#like you’re gonna come into my space like that

[sturn777]

fb!chris meeting dealer!reader for the first time . | ( female!reader ) wc 0.7k ( library ) + ( request )

꒰ა " you got me high, you got me high, and i ain't coming down . " ໒꒱

the bass thumps so loud you can feel it in your chest, rattling your ribcage like a warning. the frat house reeks of stale beer, weed, and cheap cologne, the air thick with sweat and bad decisions. you weave through the crowd, the thin material of your top brushing against sticky red solo cups and the occasional wandering hand. you don’t stop, don’t even look back, just give them a sharp elbow or a glare over your shoulder. they get the message — you’re here on business, not pleasure.

chris notices you the second you walk in.

he’s leaned up against the kitchen counter, beer bottle dangling from his fingers, looking like sin in a backwards cap and a hoodie. he’s laughing at something nate said, the sound low and careless, like he owns the world and everything in it. and maybe he does. at least, this world—the frat house, the party, the girls who keep brushing against him, pretending it’s an accident.

but then his eyes land on you, and the smirk slips just a little.

you don’t notice him at first. or maybe you do, but you don’t care. you’re too busy scanning the room, looking for your buyer, the weight of the little baggies in your pocket pressing against your thigh. it’s not until you hear his voice, lazy and dripping with confidence, that you turn around.

"yo, yeah— you. y'gonna sell me sum stuff or nah?"

he’s closer now, standing right in front of you, and you have to tilt your chin up slightly to meet his gaze. his usually icy blue eyes are dark, hooded, like he’s already bored with whatever game he’s about to start.

you raise an eyebrow, crossing your arms over your chest. “depends. you got cash, or are you just here to waste my time?”

his smirk returns, sharper now, like he wasn’t expecting you to bite back. most girls don’t. “damn. y’got some bite, huh?” he steps closer, crowding into your space, testing the waters. you don’t move, don’t flinch, just hold his gaze with a steady calm that throws him off. “i don’t bite unless i’m paid extra.”

he huffs a laugh, low and rough, taking a slow sip of his beer while his eyes rake over you. “yeah, a'ight. let’s see what you got.”

you don’t break eye contact as you pull a small baggie out of your jacket pocket, holding it up between two manicured fingers. the overhead light catches on the powder, making it shimmer like something expensive.

he leans in, close enough that you can smell the beer and weed on his breath, the faint trace of something minty. “this the good shit, or you tryna scam me?” you tilt your head, a challenge sparking in your eyes. “best around. can y'handle it?”

his jaw tightens, just for a second, before the smirk’s back in full force. “y'cold, ain't ya?" he mutters, shaking his head like he’s impressed. you shrug, slipping the baggie back into your pocket.

for a moment, he just stares at you, something unreadable flickering in his eyes. then he steps back, pulling his wallet out of his back pocket. “how much?”

you name your price, and he doesn’t even blink, just tosses a couple of bills onto the counter like it’s nothing. you hand over the baggie, your fingers brushing for half a second before you pull away. “pleasure doin’ business,” you say, already turning to leave.

but his voice stops you, cutting through the haze of music and voices like a blade. “what’s your name?” he calls out. you glance over your shoulder, one eyebrow raised. “why? planning on writing me a love letter?”

he laughs, the sound warmer than it should be, and for a second, you almost believe it’s real. “nah. just wanna know who i’m gonna be thinkin’ 'bout later.” you roll your eyes, shaking your head as you walk away. but you don’t miss the way his gaze lingers, following you through the crowd like a promise.

[maruflix]

YOU ARE SO GORGEOUS (IT MAKES ME SO MAD!)

𝜗𝜚 synopsis: hoshina is unfamiliar with the concept of personal space. unluckily for you, the huge crush you have on your vice captain is the least of your worries when he keeps catching you absolutely losing it. / REQ.

contents: female reader, reader is an officer in the third division, fluff, stoic reader, reader cannot express her feelings, not-so-oblivious hoshina, kissing

word count: 2.0k

When any kind of problem arises, the Third Division knows three things for sure:

Go get Captain Mina Ashiro to solve the problem for you.

If she’s busy with other important stuff, Vice Captain Hoshina Soshiro will do.

Should the Vice Captain be unavailable as well, look for Platoon Leader Y/N instead.

You don’t mind being busy— you’re happy to know that your fellow soldiers look for you in times of need. The thing is, sometimes people look for you to ask you where the Vice Captain is.

... and you hate Hoshina Soshiro.

It might surprise people to know that you’re able to feel emotions as strong as hate. You’re a naturally stoic person after all.

No noise readies you, no words shake you out of yourself, no person makes your emotions fluctuate — but Hoshina Soshiro is the only exception.

When other people would get discouraged to get close to you because of your lack of emotions, Soshiro is always at ease near you, like the two of you have been friends for a long time.

The way he smiles, the way he runs a hand through his hair, the way he stands— he’s so gorgeous it makes you so mad.

Like right now; the sound of blades clashing against each other rings in your ears as you try hard not to gape at the glorious display in front of you.

Kafka, huffing and puffing with sweat all over him as he desperately tries to keep up with his opponent, while Soshiro moves around with grace, delivering blows that seem so elegant and yet is enough to make Kafka stumble around like a puppet.

You watch, unsurprised, when Kafka falls down ungracefully, butt planted on the floor. Soshiro’s mouth starts moving (probably giving him some pointers) but all you can think about is how perfect he looks as a bead of sweat trails down his neck.

“Hey, it’s your turn.” Kikoru elbows you rather hard, making you snap out of your trance. Your face falls in an immediate deadpan as you stand up, passing by a dejected Kafka.

Soshiro smiles at you, seemingly unaffected by his earlier spar. “Oh no, I’m gonna have to open my eyes for this.”

He says it loud enough for everyone to hear and your heart leaps.

The spar lasted longer than the one with Kafka, but it still ended up with you losing. Well, there’s a reason he’s the Vice Captain and you’re the Platoon Leader.

As a competitive person, you should be angry for losing— but how could you, when Soshiro pulls you up and pats you in the back?

“You’re a great fighter. I might hafta to sit down and take a break.”

The poker face you successfully maintained should’ve given you a goddamn Grammy.

Soshiro spots you in the cafetaria and immediately makes a beeline to your table.

“’scuse me, coming through!”

The surprise in your eyes is gone as quickly as it appears. The entire table greets him warmly while you continue to eat. Soshiro smiles, sitting down next to you as Kafka scrambles to get out of his way.

Reno is trying to strike up conversation, but his only focus is on you. You seem so unconcerned about everything. He likes that about you too, but he wishes you’d let down your guard with him. How could he know whether you liked him or not? — not that he’d stop trying to get your attention.

Soshiro eating the rest of his apple while he watches you slurp down the last remains of your soup. Even when you eat, you look absolutely divine.

Just then, a lock of hair falls down your face, hanging dangerously close to your food. He instinctively reaches out to brush it out of your face.

“Whoops, wouldn’t wanna get that in the soup.”

Soshiro is aware of the stares he got from his subordinates, but seeing those beautiful eyes of yours look at him makes it worth it. Shocked, he watches as your eyes flash through different emotions before finally returning to its usual calm state.

“E-excuse me.” You didn’t give him time to speak before standing up and walking away.

“Wait!”

Did he just hear a stutter?

You walk fast, but Soshiro managed to keep a comfortable distance away from you. He lets you put away the tray of food and is about to call your name when you disappear inside the toilet.

He halts, opting to wait for you, resting his back against the wall. Then he hears something weird.

“AARRGGGHH!!!”

Posture immediately straight, his body involuntarily jerks to the sound of the scream, wanting to check out if you’re okay. Because it’s the sound of your scream.

He doesn’t have to, because at that moment the door swings open and you walk out of the toilet.

Red-faced.

He’s still standing in stunned silence when you slap a hand to your mouth and run away.

If Soshiro wasn’t worried before, he’s definitely worried now.

You keep avoiding him throughout the rest of the day. When you cross paths, you would refuse to look at him in the face. You’d only give him a halfhearted salute before fleeing.

The thing that bothers him is how hot and bothered you look. Are you feeling under the weather? Soshiro knows how hardworking you are, so he’s worried that you’re forcing yourself to work even though you’re sick.

“Platoon Leader, come here for a sec.”

You begrudgingly make your way to him, still not looking at him in the eyes. Fidgeting, sweating, and looking very, very bothered.

“Platoon Leader, are you sick?”

“No, sir.”

“Excuse me.” is his only warning before he presses his palm against your forehead.

Surprisingly, your temperature is... normal?

“W-what the-” Flinching, you make a big reaction and jerk away from his hand. Still, your face is calm. “If that’s all, I’ll take my leave.”

Soshiro sighs as you speedwalk away. Temperature aside, he’s 101% sure that you’re sick. After all, why else would your face be so red?

Unless...

You’re dreaming. You’re dreaming. You’re dreaming. Because there is no goddamn way Soshiro just touched your face.

You have no clue where you’re walking. You just wanted to get away from the only person who’s able to make you lose your cool. So you head outside, to the gardens. You pass by Haruichi on the way there.

“Hey, have you seen the Vice Captain around?” He calls out after you, making you want to scream in frustration.

Can people stop making you remember the existence of the drop dead gorgeous Hoshina Soshiro?!

“I don’t know! Maybe China!”

Haruichi looks very confused. You brush past him.

Full of nerves and unsure what to do, you finally sit down on a bench to catch your breath. You can still feel his fingertips on your forehead and see the worried expression in his handsome face.

He’s worried about you. You’re about to bury your head in your hands and squeal when you catch sight of the very same man walking towards you.

Like a cue, the mask is back on. You wanted to pat yourself in the back for how quickly you’re able to gather your composure. You’d rather die than embarrass yourself in front of your crush... although you just did that when you walked out to a surprised Soshiro.

He didn’t hear you scream, did he?

Did he?

You stand up as Soshiro stops next to you. He’s smiling his usual smile, but something is eerie about it. Like he knows a secret.

“Can I test something?”

You blink once. Twice. Then you nod.

“Walk with me.”

You follow him, puzzled.

Suddenly, he loops a hand around your shoulders.

Your heart misses a beat and you nearly stumble, but you catch yourself with sheer willpower. The stoic expression is getting harder to maintain, the smile on your lips itching to blossom.

“What... why?”

There are chills running down your back when you look up at Soshiro. His smile is wider now, like he absolutely knows a secret.

He absolutely knows.

You break free and run for your life.

Soshiro feels kinda guilty now. He didn’t mean to fluster you so much; he just felt so happy and flattered that he actually managed to make you blush.

That’s why he’s making his way to your quarters, hoping to apologize for teasing you too much today. Soshiro has loved you for many months now; he has no problems taking it slow until you’re ready to trust him with all your emotions.

The door is slightly ajar, so he pushes it open quietly, not wanting to alarm you. He’s about to knock on it to signal his presence when he sees the state you’re in.

Facing away from the door, your body is half slumped on the floor and half on the bed. You’re clutching a giant pillow to your face.

“AAARRRRGGGMMMM” Without warning, you scream, the sound drowned out by the pillow you’re burying your head into.

His mouth drops open but it quickly stretches into a smile.

You raise your head, revealing your blushing face, before slamming it down on the pillow again. A string of unintelligible noises follow soon after.

He clears his throat.

You pause mid grumble and the air is still. Slowly raising your head, you turn your head to the door. The two of you lock eyes.

“Vice Captain! Get out!”

Instead of getting out, Soshiro lets himself in and closes the door behind him. He chuckles at your terrified expression, finally seeing an emotion other than complete indifference.

“So you’re really not sick? Just blushin’ around me?”

You gape, looking very offended but unable to counter him.

“Oh, good. I thought my crush was unrequited.”

Your eyes widen.

“Hey, can I kiss ya?”

“Wh-what?!”

“Sorry. You just look so cute right now. Is that a no..?”

Soshiro moves closer, now kneeling down in front of you. A teasing smile is still present on his features. Gently, he strokes his thumb down the right side of your lips. Gauging your reactions.

You didn’t want to give him any, but even a great actress needs her breaks. A shy smile breaks through your cold facade, and Soshiro beams.

“Oh, this is so cute. I must kiss ya now.”

You don’t know where to look, eyes flitting everywhere but him, but you let him lean into you until you can feel his breaths against your skin.

“W-wait,” you gasp meekly. Soshiro’s other hand is around your waist now. “I’ve never kissed anyone before.”

Soshiro shivers in anticipation. “That’s okay,” he whispers and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, “just follow my lead.” And he presses his lips against yours.

It’s so cute how shy you are, so much so that you’re trembling under his touch. He’s pretty sure he heard a whimper when he tightens his hold on your waist. It takes everything in him to control himself when you tilt your head back, parting your lips a bit further for him.

You don’t know how long time has passed because your head is still in the clouds even after he pulls away. It’s embarrassing how a simple kiss leaves you a mess; your breaths ragged and cheeks flushed.

You, who’s usually so stoic, calm and composed, looking like this under him—

“I want to say that I’ll stop teasing you, but I would be lying.” Soshiro grins when you bury your face in his chest.

You’re sulking a bit now. How dare he make you look like a complete idiot. “Whatever. You won’t get another reaction out of me anyway.”

“Is that a challenge?”

After that, he tries to get your attention every time you’re in the same space as each other. He’ll tease you, praise you, sling an arm around your shoulders, hold your things out of reach, all that just to get a rise out of you.

Of course, everyone knows he’s down bad. He acts like a schoolboy trying to get attention from his crush in all the wrong ways. So now even more people ask you about Soshiro; where he is, what he’s doing, like they’re completely convinced you two are an item.

Well, you are.

But with so many people teasing you about your relationship, it’s getting hard to hide behind a calm face. You smile a lot more often, especially when he’s around. Your reputation as the division’s most calm and composed soldier quickly fades into memory. At least you got yourself a hot boyfriend...?

Oh well. You win some, you lose some.

taglist: @bgyuus, @plsmarrymehioriyo, @o-sachi, @vashyuu, @moon-cakiie, @17020, @eeiternity, @ryescapades

[sturniolocafe]

star shopping

summary: making music has been chris' passion for years, but is that passion enough to keep you to stay? (based off star shopping by lil peep) pairing: rapper!chris x feminine!reader warnings: angst, talks of depression, weed use, arguing a note from lilah 𐙚: hey so i'm sorry for this. (lowercase intended!)

chris sighed, throwing a green celtics cap over his hair and sliding on his sneakers. he knew you were going to have something to say about this, but right now, he couldn’t risk the loss of this new beat. he’d been hitting a wall with making his beats fit his lyrics for weeks now, hence why he was getting ready to go meet with his producer at 11:30 pm, spurred on by the “dude, i swear to god i just hit the fucking jackpot” text.

you raised your brows as you stepped out of the bathroom, towel on your head and plush robe wrapped around your body. “where are you going?” you asked, watching as chris grabbed his wallet and keys. 

“they need me in the studio,” he mumbled. “i’ll be back in the morning.”

“whatever.” you hummed coolly, brushing past your boyfriend (if you could even call him that) to get to your vanity. 

“c’mon baby, don’t be mad. this is the one.” chris insisted, trying to smooth things over. 

“i’m not mad,” you said flatly, smoothing your moisturizer over your skin. “just go. i’ll probably be gone for work when you get back, so i’ll see you tomorrow evening.”

“baby,” chris practically begged, standing near your vanity, but not in your space so he didn’t upset you. “i know i fuck up. i know that i haven’t been a good boyfriend lately. i know you probably don’t want to end up with me, but i love you. you are so much more than gorgeous to me. i want to be with you for the rest of my life. please don’t doubt how much i love you.”

“chris, not tonight. just go.”

“i know i’m not worth your time right now; trust me, i know that. but i also know that i can work on it if you give me time. i can make this album and then we’ll be set, baby, i swear. just let me work on it.”

“you’ve been saying that.” you pointed out, trying to swallow the lump in your throat at the brunette’s words. 

“you’re losing your patience, and i don’t blame you.”

“chris!” you sighed, unintentionally slamming your eye cream down on the vanity. “i’ve been waiting for you to work on it for over two years. two whole rotations around the sun. i believe in you and i believe in your art, but i feel like i’m waiting for something that won’t come. it’s not paying our bills!

chris bit his lip, knowing you had a point. art couldn’t be rushed, but he had been in the process of writing this album for over two years, all while you single handedly paid the bills. the only time that the two of you truly had a connection was when you had sex. you’d look into chris’ deep blue eyes, allowing your hormones to take over and make you feel like maybe everything was okay, despite the fact that you two only had about one true conversation per week. 

“i know.” he mumbled quietly. 

“maybe,” your voice trembled as you began to argue. “maybe my friends are right. maybe i should break up with you. i can’t keep doing this, chris. i’ve worked my ass off to make sure we’re taken care of, and the way you pay me back is by leaving at almost midnight? seriously?”

“ma, you know i’m gonna make it happen one day,” chris pleaded. “as soon as this album comes out, i’m taking you overseas. we’ll go wherever you want, baby. we can smoke and stay in luxury hotels and-” chris was cut off when you interrupted him. 

“that’s what you want, chris. not me. i don’t give a fuck about weed or being overseas. all i want is for this, for us, to be a partnership.” you said, tears rolling down your cheeks. 

for some reason, despite what your instincts were telling you, you didn’t protest when chris pulled you into a hug, burying his nose in your freshly washed hair. “i’m sorry, baby. i know i’m nothing like what you or your family or anyone else wants me to be. but at the end of the day, i would give up my life for you. you’ve given up yours for me. you’ve taken care of me during my bad days, you’ve supported me through everything. i understand if you don’t want to anymore.”

“chris…” you croaked out, voice thick with tears. “i love you, i do love you. i just…miss you. i feel like you’re never home. i miss us.”

the brunette felt like he’d just received a blow to the gut. how could he have been so caught up in some dumb album that he had ignored the most important thing in his life? “i know, baby. i am so, so sorry. i…” chris pulled out his phone, fingers flying over the screen, before he shoved the device back into his pocket. “i’m yours for the rest of the night. shoutout to everyone making my beats, but you’re more important. music’s what helped me when i fell to pieces, so now it’s my turn to do that for you.”

you simply nodded into his chest, not quite forgiving him, but not having the chance to argue anymore either. you didn’t even protest under chris grabbed your hips, lifting you off the vanity stool and carrying you to the door that led from your master bedroom to the balcony of your chicago apartment. like any large city, lights were still aglow on the tall skyscrapers and traffic honked below you, but by some miracle, you could faintly see the stars in the velvety blue nighttime sky.  

“all of those stars have a reason they’re here,” chris mumbled. “i hope i find that reason for me…for us.”

you hummed quietly against in his chest in your robe. things weren’t okay right now, they probably wouldn’t be for a long time, but you were too exhausted to argue. you knew chris loved you, you knew you loved him, but you also knew that you couldn’t spend the rest of your life waiting around for what he might do. 

a/n: yeoWCH....thank you for reading bbys!

[ifyesterdayistooheavy]

Here are my thoughts from a person who watched arcane 1 when it came out, but never entered fandom spaces:

1. Agree

2. Depends on what you mean (pretty gold lady: forgive I forgot most of their names lol) really felt unfinished. So much so I was shocked when I heard there wouldn’t be a series 3

3. I did notice that. I thought it was intentional. Most of the characters didn’t really know here besides jinx, who wasn’t gonna talk about her. But still. Not cool

4. I agree kinda, it felt natural for the conflict to abate but them coming in later to help didn’t feel earned/wasnt impactful

5. I didn’t really care about the j/c/v hate triangle, and I never really got jinx’s hatred of her. The jealousy was flat and uninteresting. Didn’t mind when they kinda dropped it. Yes I agree their ending was not satisfying, but I can’t even imagine what a satisfying resolution could look like

6. Completely agree

7. Sevika is silcos guard right? Ah she was always the broody top henchman character. Her boss was gone and her main rival didn’t want to play ball. No other characters she interacts with are interesting. So I don’t know what she would be doing

8. Maddie was a filler character to enhance the background in different. The only reason you care about her is because she dated a main character and had a betrayal scene. If you’re saying the betrayal scene wasn’t impactful enough to exist then ya know true.

9. All of the silco introductions were… a bit jarring. But I like his voice sooooo I’m cool with it. Catvi sexy times were unnecessary, but so was the Herero version back in season 1 so I don’t think it’s a valid complaint. I don’t know what you’re talking about with their ending scenes being fanfiction. Every time vi calls her cupcake I cringe. This also started in season 1

10 I think they just wanted cait to have a permanent viewable injury after a war. To show lasting damages. Limbs ripped off is a bit gorey and eyepatches are sexy.i think you’re looking too much into the significance. If Alfred loses an eye in the telltale Batman game, they’re not trying to tell you Alfred is less observant now, except literally. It’d be cool if the injury did do this tho, I see why you would want that.

11. For someone to sneak past vis guard to get her to join up with them? I don’t get it either. Maybe there was a dropped plot or something

12. I think Maddie was supposed to show ambessa as being a fox. Along with those magical spell tags. She could have been a better fox tho

13. Mel! That’s the pretty gold lady right? I was glad there was a mage character buttttt like I said earlier it feels unfinished

14…… I did like this season less than season one.. that’s probably a main reason why. The show talks like it’s political but this season definitely didn’t feel like it

15. I have never played lol so I don’t agree.

1. Nope. Not a fan. Cupcake cringe. The Rachel and Ross of the series. Really not my thing.

2. See it should’ve been but all I could think was I’ve already seen this with madoka Magica. And just like in madoka, it didn’t hit hard. The Astro stuff is just… too magical girl? I can’t take it seriously

3. Yes

4. Did they? It didn’t feel like they did. Isn’t Warwick victors scientist teacher?

5. What was occ? The suicide? The team up with echo? The second suicide or her rachenbach falls moment?

6. I have no idea what you’re talking about lol the prison scene? The end scene? Again not my fav so ehh

my head's a bit clearer, some thoughts about act 3

-my biggest gripe is episode 7- cool idea, love the concept of peaking into a different universe and seeing what our characters couldve been under different circumstances, but a WHOLE episode. when you only had 9 episode in this season, that already feel like theyre moving at a neck's pace. for a universe that ultimately doesn't matter to the main universe where the story takes place. the fact it had timebomb made it feel extremely fan service-y.

-no emotional resolution to a lot of characters. viktor and jayce are the only ones i can think of that felt like they got the screen time and care for an actual emotional closure.

-isha wasn't even mentioned in this act. in general she was already a martyr for jinx's character development but guys can you make it less obvious.

-it started in act 2, hence why i was so jaded on it, but it continues here: just where the fuck the political drama between 2 cities go? the conflict between zaun and piltover took a back seat since episode 4 and never came back. the resolution to it isn't bad per say, but when u got so little focus on it in the finale it just feels rushed.

-i loved the cait and jinx scene. but like, that was the resolution to it??? after act 1 thinking about it disappoints me. im not against a conversation being the climax to a story, but that is, and im not joking, the ONLY conversation these 2 have in the show one on one. in general the jinx\cait\vi arc ends with 1 conversation per duo (well caitvi got one fight and one very steamy sex scene but u won't catch me complaining). and after act 1, idk i think i wanted just a little bit more. im biased though- the jinx\vi\caitlyn dynamic is my favorite part about arcane. the teasers for s2 always had them front and center so i assumed it'll play a bigger part in the story???

-i felt like what the show was at its core, which is the conflict between the sisters and the cities, was completely sidelined this season. in general i can't really tell what the main theme of the show is anymore. but yeah look at the resolution to the jinx and vi story.did it feel like it had the emotional impact u expected? cause i felt like it was underwhelming.

-sevika?? didnt speak since episode 4???? huhh???

-maddie was pointless. why was she there?? i don't understand the point of that character. i dont understand her motives. she ended up not mattering at all to caitvi's story. the only thing i got from her inclusion is "caitlyn fucks" but is it that THAT important??? of a character trait??? to add to caitlyn of all people?? in THIS season??? this belongs in the realm of fanfiction.

-a lot here felt like fanfiction actually. every silco inclusion (except of him in the cell with jinx), the whole "nobody dies au" they threw in the middle, even the caitvi sex scene (IM NOT COMPLAINING THO). the caitvi scene at the end was dialog out of fanfiction, wtf was that.

-why did caitlyn lose her eye? im not like against the idea on a base level but losing an eye is very symbolic, and im not sure what its supposed to represent here. caitlyn is an observant person, its a big character trait for her. so youre basically saying she sees less now? that she's more laser focused? i sure hope not. wasnt her whole arc with giving up of revenge about seeing the "bigger picture"? her sacrifice didn't feel in character, because caitlyn is not really a "fight to the death" type of character like ambessa is. if she made that sacrifice for something like love, or for the betterment of other people, that would be more in line. idk, you couldve made me on board with it but im just very meh on it. also caitlyn only really emotes through her eyes, it sucks that we get even less of it now?? though i guess it doesnt matter at this point.

-what was the point of the enforcer that looked like vander?

-ambessa was so wasted in these last 2 acts its crazy. where's the "you have to be the fox and the wolf" mindset from her? she felt like she was wolfing only with no wit anymore by the 3rd act.

-mel????????????? it was. uhhh. maybe you shouldve saved it for another series, riot. but in this show, waste of time. the fight she had with caitlyn against ambessa was cool tho.

-i sound like im a hater but u have to understand. s1 of arcane was a political drama and a character study show. seeing all this discarded for magic and time travel shenanigans on like 4 different fronts was so jarring it took me out of the show multiple times.

-cant believe im saying that, but i wish they'd try to stick closer to the characters' current state in the source material (the cursed game). someof it felt out of left field and done for shock value, which isn't why we love the story or these characters to begin with.

good stuff:

-caitvi sex lmao ill take it babyyyyy

-jayce and viktor's scenes at the end were powerful.

-as usual, the visuals were phenomenal. the animation is gorgeous. fortiche u made this show what it is and youre still its saving grace.

-thank god they dropped the warwick\vander plot

-i liked the implication of the conclusion to jinx's story, even if it felt a little inconsistent with the character.

-the ending to jinx\vi\caitlyn was poetic and i did love it, even if it was rushed and didn't really hit the emotional highs i wanted it to.

[lucimaaie]

under the stars ✧.* spiderwoman au

pairings - ellie williams x fem!reader

summary - you and ellie go stargazing for your first date, only it ends in a way she couldn't have expected.

warnings - fluff and angst, a little angst as usual, i was watching spongebob while editing this to cope with finishing arcane so i blame all mistakes on that

playlist | spidey masterlist

Thinking of your first date had Ellie reduced her to her sixteen-year-old self again. She could run into a burning building yet the thought of messing this up scared her more.  

She’d never considered herself a romantic. Her relationship with Dina was the result of losing Joel and in the end that didn’t work because of the mask. Or what she used it for rather. This thing with you had to be built from the ground up and she couldn’t let Spiderwoman ruin it. 

The familiar screech of your apartment building door alerted her of your presence. She’d tried to dress up more than usual, ditching her usual hoodie for an olive open button down, white t-shirt, and jeans. Still basic, but she was trying her best. “Hi.”  

“Hi yourself.” You stopped right in front of her, pulling her from the wall.  

“You haven’t told me where we’re going.” Ellie couldn’t help but glance down at your connected hands. You kept her close that way as you strolled to who knows where.  

“And you didn’t let me pick you up.”  You pivoted your body to give her a playful glare. “Or bring your camera.”  

“I don’t think subjecting you to my apartment is a good start to a first date.” Ellie tucked her other hand in her pocket, enjoying the natural sway you two fell into. Her eyes darted around the cloudy sky. “So, we’re going somewhere picture worthy?”  

“I didn’t say that, did i?”  

“If I don’t know where we’re going, how are we gonna get there?” She looked around at the nearby building to get a hint of where you’d take her, but there was none.  

“Lucky for us, it’s within walking distance.” 

“You planned it all out, huh?” 

“Before I even asked you. You didn’t think I would come unprepared, did you?” You asked, teasing. “I always plan.” 

“I don’t.”  

“That's okay, I love that about you.” Your words came out softer than expected. Hadn’t even gotten to the official date part of it and you were already laying words on her.  

Ellie hadn’t even noticed you’d slowed down until everyone else on the sidewalk seemed so far ahead. She couldn’t think of anything to say to that, but she didn’t have to as you continued to pull her along, mumbling about being late. 

You, as devious as you were, had Ellie close her eyes as you even approached the building. She did despite her grumbles about not being able to walk with her eyes closed. she managed.  

“You know you’re scaring me, right?” Ellie continued to complain as you led her through a crowded space and upstairs. She was starting to get impatient but she felt compelled to humor you.  

Imagine her surprise when she opened her eyes to a projected burst of stars against a black sky. She blinked as her eyes darted around the big screen. her excitement softened into admiration as you started explaining yourself. Though you didn’t need to. 

“I wanted to go stargazing,” You blurted. Ellie had never seen you look any bit stressed. Well, except for the night she saved you “Y’know but this is, like, the worst city to see stars in so I thought next best thing was bringing the stars to you-” 

“No, I love it,”  

“You do?” 

“I do.” 

“I'm glad,” You breathed in relief. “That’s good. I'm worried you think I was cheesy or something.” With your confidence restored, you grabbed her hand and headed up the stairs to look for the best seats. 

“I like cheesy.” 

“You complained the whole way up here.” 

“Okay, mystery scares me. but I like cheesiness.” 

“Okay, I like it too for future reference.”  

Her heart stuttered at the word future. You really thrived on her desperate need for love. Was she really that removed from people? She had jesse and the cat lady in the apartment across from hers. And you, she hoped. “Future reference, okay.”  

For a while, you watched and talked each other's ears off about nothing at all, sometimes nothing relating to space. Any anxiety she was having before was nowhere to be found next to you under some fake, though beautiful, stars.  

“Tell me about you.” You said suddenly. You and Ellie leaned back as much as the cushioned chairs would allow. As you turned to look at her, the violet hue of the screen illuminated your relaxed expression. 

“What do you wanna know?” Ellie turned her body to mirror yours. 

“I’m gonna be cheesy if I say everything, but..everything. Like, what’s your biggest dream?”

Ellie hummed, running the blunt tip of her fingernail across the arm rest you shared. She was quiet, sifting through the details she could tell you. Everything was a hefty order. So, she’d start with something simple. She pointed to the screen. “I’d, uh, want to visit space. Not necessarily talk to aliens or anything.” That would be cool. “I’d wanna study it. Find out everything.” She glanced at you, your attentive gaze making her self conscious of her answer. “I used to wanna be an astronaut, some time ago.”

“I could imagine that.” You grinned. “You’d be a hot astronaut.”

She burst out laughing. “That’s what you took from that?” 

“No! I was listening, I promise! Have you ever looked into it?”

She shook her head. “My dad was on my back about choosing something realistic.” She froze. It was the first time she had talked about him with getting the urge to cry. Granted, it was still painful, but she could be reminded of the good times without dwelling about how they ended. She shook the thoughts away. She didn’t need to bring her baggage on a date. “Plus, I’m too lazy to be an astronaut.”

“Really? Cause you look pretty active to me.” You squeezed her arm. She hissed as if it hurt a great deal and swatted your hand away. “Aw,” You cooed at her imaginary suffering. 

“Y’know what, it’s time for you to talk about yourself. What’s your dream, life story, all of that?” 

“You didn’t talk about your life story!”

“You didn’t ask.”

“It was encompassed into the everything question.” Your voice naturally got louder in the otherwise quiet theater-like space. Ellie snickered at your brief embarrassment. “Whatever, I’ll lead by example.” You dramatically cleared your throat. “I’ve been in New York all my life. I’ve got..one insanely annoying little brother. My dad’s a cop. My mom’s a paralegal. And, to be honest with you I have no idea what I wanna be as long as it’s not a cop or a paralegal.” You huffed as you finished. 

“Stand up example.” Ellie nodded. “Your family sounds..” 

“Annoying?”

“I was gonna say good, but okay. They sound like they really care about you." If only she still knew the feeling.

 “You say that, but you won’t think so when my dad’s grilling you.” 

“I hope you mean that metaphorically.” She thought about how stubborn your father had been in putting out a search for her. How it had taken a whole bunch of saving to prove to him she wasn’t causing harm. She couldn’t imagine having to deal with him as herself, dating his daughter. 

“I don't.”

"I'll manage anyway,"

A growl of her stomach had broken through the romantic atmosphere, causing you to break out into laughter. She'd have been embarrassed had it not been the cutest sound she'd ever heard. "Okay I'm hungry, so what? Give a girl a break." 

"You want a break or a solution?" Without another word, you were pulling her somewhere else. Not too many blocks down, the bell rang as you pushed through the door. Greetings were exchanged in a language she didn't understand. "I hope you like dumplings." You practically bounced on your feet as you paid. "and have no allergies." 

Ellie thought she had been imagining the constant glances from the old couple behind the counter until you spoke. "Don't worry about them, they're just sussing you out. I don't usually come here with anybody." 

Ellie turned around, giving an awkward wave to which she got a friendly smile from both. that was before they retreated to the back, probably to gossip. "You seem like you know everybody and everything here." 

“I had to get out, talk to people otherwise I'd go crazy. If my dad had it his way I’d still be at home.”

“My dad, he..um. trust me, he tried.” She swallowed. "Every time I came home it was 'where we you?' and 'who were you with?'" She let out something of a nervous chuckle, hoping talking about Joel wouldn't be the think to tank this date. She hoped nothing would tank this date.

“Hey, are you okay?” You placed your hand on hers, face frowned with concern.  

Ellie blinked. She was surprised but the interruption from her thoughts was exactly what she needed. She placed her hand on top of yours. “Yeah, i’m fine.” 

You didn’t believe her. she couldn’t blame you, she was a terrible liar. Plus, lying on the first date wasn’t a wise move. “My dad died a few years ago.” Trauma wasn’t dumping either, but she was hoping she’d get points for honesty.  

You squeezed her hand. “I'm so sorry,” Your hand moved from under hers to intertwine your fingers.  

“No, you didn’t know. It's fine.” She sighed deeply, eyes glued to the web of your fingers together. It didn’t take her long to become accustomed to the feeling of your hand on hers.  

“You know you don’t have to say it’s fine every time you don’t wanna talk about it.” You looked straight at her with genuine care.  

“Well, what do you want me to say?” Ellie began swiping her thumb over each knuckle. She hadn’t even noticed a server coming over to bring your food. the girl’s eyes seemed to linger at the way you and Ellie's hand reconnected over the food.  

“That you don’t want to walk about it.” 

“And you’re just gonna accept that?” 

“Not all the time but, it’s better than ‘i’m fine’ all the time. I like honesty” You’d disconnected one of your hands to prepare things. Ellie had to pretend not to be disappointed at the tiniest loss of contact. Instead, she watched you set everything up particularly like you worked here yourself.   

“Y’know you don’t have to do all that.” she sat back as you opened the basket of dumplings. The steam filled the air between you.  

“I want to,” You said in unison. Ellie laughed at your surprise. You grabbed the basket and turned your back against her playfully. “No! I don’t get to eat, just because I know all your lines now?” 

“Hm, maybe not.” You resisted the urge to laugh as you set them down again. Ellie held her hand over her chest in dramatic relief. She watched as you grabbed kiddie chop-sticks. “Don’t judge.” 

“I’m not.” She was definitely grinning as she watched you. It was funny, considering you seemed to come here often, but she wasn’t gonna tease you about it. “Although, I really wish I had my camera right now.” Okay, maybe a little.  

“Liar.” You peeked up at her as you happily stuffed your mouth with dumplings.  

Ellie was just about to do the same when the small TV posted up in the corner above your head was unmuted. Broadcasted sounds of panic filled the small shop. There was a pile-up on the bridge; only a line of cars were in the position to take a plunge into the water below. “Shit,” Ellie grabbed her phone and was already up before her eyes landed on you. 

“What’s wrong? Do you have family there?” You said in concern. 

“I don’t know. I should..I should check though, shouldn’t I?” 

“Definitely, go ahead. I’ll be here when you get back.”  

Only you weren’t. By the time Ellie had been done getting everyone off the bridge and safe, night had fallen and she could only assume you had left the restaurant thinking she stood you up. Or in the slight chance Ellie was lucky, you thought she went to make sure her family was safe, but she usually wasn’t. Meaning, her first attempt to be normal after..everything that happened last year had gone exactly how she thought it would. Just great.

thank you for reading!

[cinnaleaf]

ESSENCE OF US - CH 14: HEARTBREAK ANNIVERSARY*

Please read responsibly. This fic will get hot and heavy as the story progresses, 18+ only MDNI | CH 13 | MASTERLIST | CH 15 [soon]

summary: a fleeting encounter with a mysterious Trent leaves you wondering if fate is playing a bigger match. your paths continue to cross in unexpected places as the fragrances around you mirror the growing tension between you. maybe it's just a coincidence..or maybe its destiny in the making.

warnings: drama, angst, fluff, smut, language, short smau, [redacted] wc: ~10.9k (sry lol) song inspo: Sweetness x Elmiene ft. Leon Thomas (fav song rn! so underrated) 💌: heavens gates are closed for me full stop no comma

“You’re gonna bite right through the pen cap if you keep chewing on it” Trent teased, breaking through the silence in the car. He glanced at you from the driver’s seat with his eyes crinkling in the corners as he caught you with the pen cap clutched between your teeth. You quickly pulled the cap from your mouth and held it tightly in your hand instead.

“Sorry..” you muttered, embarrassed. “I just..ugh. This whole thing feels weird. I just wanna do the creative stuff, y’know?” You glanced down at the folder in your lap. “This other stuff is...just not for me.”

Trent quietly chuckled as the soft pops of his gum filled the space between his words. “You sound like me when I’ve got media duties. ‘I just wanna play football’” he mimicked in an imitated complaining tone.

You slumped back into the passenger seat with your eyes drifting back to the folder on your lap like it was a ticking time bomb. “I just hate that I have to do this..” you admitted quietly. “It’s not like I don’t trust them but..” you trailed off, staring at the window while the car moved through the passing streets. 

“Baby,” Trent spoke softly, cutting through your thoughts. He moved his hand from the gear shift to rest it above your knee. “You’re not doing this because you don’t trust them. It’s just to protect what’s yours, yeah? There’s a difference.”

You nodded, gnawing at the inside of your cheek. “NDAs just feel so corporate. Like.. ‘Hi, welcome back to work. Here’s some legally binding paperwork to remind you not to gossip and spill any of my secrets.’ It makes me look like a snob, right?”

Trent laughed and shook his head. “Nah, it doesn’t. It makes you look like someone who built something amazing from scratch and doesn’t want it wrecked by somebody running their mouth. If they have any sense then they’ll sign the paper without a fuss.”

“Maybe” you sighed, still staring at the folder that held the paperwork. The weight of it felt heavier than it should have for something that was light enough to blow away with the wind. “It’s not just about the store though... it’s everything. My life, my family...you. And if they’re leaking stuff…”

Trent gave your thigh a gentle squeeze, sensing your spiralling thoughts. “And that’s exactly why you’re doing this. If Ziggy didn’t catch them it could be way worse by now. First it’s believable rumours, then it’s ‘Trent’s secret baby mum spotted in Liverpool.’”

You snapped your neck at him, eyeing him with annoyance. “Out of all the things to come out of your mouth...why would you say that? That’s not even funny Trent..I’m sure there are girls lining up for that opportunity.”

“I’m just saying,” he added, laughing softly. “Better to nip it now than deal with stuff like that later. It’s not like you’re firing them or anything. You’re being smart about your business.”

Maybe he was right, but that didn’t stop the feeling of your stomach twisting from anxiety. You tilted your head back, staring at the roof of the car like it could give you some sort of divine intervention to avoid this whole mess. “This is going to be so awkward..” you groaned with your dread evident. 

Your thoughts drifted to your assistants who had become such a big part of daily life at Les Notes d’Amour. Tara always had an infectious energy that made the store feel a little brighter. She was bubbly, and sometimes way too chatty for her own good. It wasn’t hard to picture a LFC loving uni student spilling something to someone without realizing how far it could spiral, whether it was accidentally or not. Ember was the complete opposite of Tara, and was often sharp, calm, and systematic. Her precision was one of the reasons you hired her in the first place. It was always like she was two steps ahead of everyone else, and you liked that since you were an overthinker. You knew you could always count on her to get things done while you were away. She didn’t seem like the gossiping type, but you didn’t really know much about either of them outside of Les Notes.

“Maybe I should’ve done this when Camille mentioned it” you quietly acknowledged as the storefront came into view. “Or maybe I should’ve just let her dad handle the hiring process. That would’ve saved me from this headache.”

Trent steered into a parking spot in front of the shop and cut the engine. “Nah. It’s better coming from you. Your store, your rules.”

His optimism was appreciated, but your mind was already racing as you wondered how the conversation could go. Would Tara burst into tears and make it more awkward than it already was going to be? Would Ember cross her arms and roll her eyes over something so trivial? Or even worse, would one of them get offended enough to quit on the spot?

You chewed on your lip, staring at the folder as if it could detonate at any second. You didn’t know what to expect, despite trying to come up with every possibility in your head. The uncertainty was the worst part of it. They weren’t just assistants anymore; Tara and Ember were an essential part of your business now. The thought of finding someone else to fit into your carefully built world felt exhausting if they took this upcoming conversation the wrong way.

“I don’t know if they’re going to take it well…” you trailed off, not wanting to open the car door and go inside.

Trent leaned over and unbuckled your seatbelt for you. His fingers brushed against your arm as he spoke softly. “You’re overthinking it baby,” he said. “It’s just to protect yourself and what’s yours.”

You nodded, but the thought of Tara breaking into tears or Ember giving you the cold shoulder made the knot in your stomach tighten. You were supposed to be teaching them how to make batches of Rêveur today, but the little folder in your lap could completely derail your plans for the day. With a sigh, you stared at the Les Notes d’Amour gold lettered sign through the car’s window before stepping out of the car, gripping the folder tightly against your chest. Trent followed a few steps behind you, giving you the space you needed to handle things on your own. When you walked toward the store, you could hear the faint sound of humming coming from inside. The sound of Tara’s bubbly energy already made you feel like your heart was about to beat out of your chest. It really wasn’t that all that deep, but in your mind it felt like the world was about to crumble beneath you.

The door jingled as you stepped inside and Tara stood at the counter, arranging a set of fragrances into neat rows, her glasses slipped down her nose slightly from the concentration. She glanced up when she heard the door and her face lit up with her usual bouncy enthusiasm. 

“Oh! Hi, Y/N! Morning, Trent!” she chirped. “You’re early today!”

Ember was across the room, sorting through email requests for custom fragrances. She glanced over briefly, nodding in acknowledgement. “Morning” she said in her usual direct tone before returning back to her task.

Trent nudged your shoulder gently before wandering toward your workstation. He picked up a few of your scent vials and held them to the light, inspecting them like they were a puzzle he was trying to solve. He opened one and gave it a sniff, frowning curiously as if he was mentally cataloguing the notes of each vial. A boutique filled with delicate glass and the constant hum of creativity wasn’t his world, but somehow he fit in perfectly. It comforted you, even if the pressure of the conversation ahead felt heavier than ever.

“Tara. Ember..” you said, clearing your throat awkwardly as you gestured toward your office in the back. “Can we talk for a few minutes?”

Tara immediately froze with her hands hovering over a glass bottle. “Oh.. yeah, of course! Is everything okay?” Her voice was chipper, but you could sense the nervousness creeping into her tone. Ember pushed back her chair and stood up with her usual composure. “Sure,” she said simply, but her gaze flicked between you and the folder in your hands before she followed Tara to the back. You caught Trent’s eye as you passed him and he gave you an encouraging smile.

“You got this baby” he mouthed before turning his attention back to the vials.

The air felt suffocating as the three of you settled into your office. Tara sat down immediately and folded her hands nervously in her lap, while Ember leaned into her chair with her arms crossed. She had an unreadable, but not unfriendly expression. You set the folder down on the desk and took a deep breath, trying to find the right words to say while both girls stared back at you.

“Sooo. Umm..” you began in a shaky voice. Your hands were clenched together in your lap as you tried to will yourself to stay calm. “First off..I just wanted to say how much I appreciate both of you and everything you do. Both of you are an important part of this place. I mean that.”

Tara smiled nervously and Ember tilted her head, studying you like she was waiting for you to get to the point. 

“But..” you continued in a hesitant voice. “Something happened recently. There’s been some information about me that’s been leaked online these last couple of months. Nothing huge..but enough to make me feel like I should probably set some boundaries..okay?”

Tara’s nervous smile disappeared as she fidgeted with the bottom hem of her top. “I– I swear I didn’t mean for anything to happen.” she stammered in a trembling voice. “I didn’t think it was a big deal at the time! I never wanted to hurt you or anything. I’m so sorry.”

Ember glanced at the folder in front of you, curiously. “What kind of boundaries are we talking about?” she asked in a calm but direct tone.

You opened the folder and slid two copies of the NDAs across the smooth surface of the desk. “It’s not about anything specific, really” you said, trying to sound as neutral as you could be, even if you were kind of lying.

“It’s more about making sure everything that happens here stays here. I just need to know we’re all on the same page and that anything you hear or see working here doesn’t leave these walls.”

Tara’s eyes darted to the papers in front of her and then back at you. “Oh my god. This is because you’re pregnant isn’t it?” she blurted out. “I only mentioned it in my group chat! One of my friends messaged SpillTheBeans after I said not to. I really didn’t mean for it to –”

“Tara I’m not pregnant” you cut her off with an awkward laugh, trying to diffuse the tension. “The only baby I have is this place. Which is why I need you to sign this paper.” You pulled out a pen, tapping the ballpoint against the signature line. “Just sign here and we’ll be good.”

Tara’s eyes went wide as she bolted upright in the chair. “Oh my god, I thought I was getting fired!” she blurted out, clutching her chest like the words were exhausting her. “I’ve been waiting for it to happen for days. I even texted my mum and asked her if I could move back in…she said no, by the way!”

Her rambling spilled out so fast you could hardly keep up. Even Ember gave her a side eye.

“What? I’m not…no. You’re not fired Tara” you reassured, trying to keep your tone calm despite her dramatics. “It’s not that serious. We can just move forward from it, okay? Just don’t let it happen again.”

Tara reached for the pen so fast she almost knocked it off the desk. “Yeah, sure! I’ll sign whatever you want girl!” she exclaimed while scribbling her name on the line. “You could tell me you’re actually secretly dating Jude Bellingham right now and I’d take it to my grave.”

“Um, no. That’s definitely not happening” you replied, trying not to laugh at the thought of you dating Jude in some twisted alternate reality. 

Ember leaned forward next when Tara handed her the pen but her movements were slower. She picked up the pen and twirled it between her fingers to read through the paperwork before signing her name. “Yup. Seems fair” she replied plainly, sliding the paper back toward you. When you reached to pick it up, Ember’s phone vibrated against the desk surface. She snatched the phone quickly, trying to silence the buzzing noise.

“Sorry. Just my boyfriend making dinner plans,” she muttered before placing her phone into her pocket.

“Okay...I’m not that strict, Ember. I don’t care if you use your phone.”

Ember shrugged and brushed her fingers against her pocket to make sure her phone was tucked away. “He’s just.. really big on planning. Always wants everything figured out ahead of time.”

You smiled to try and lighten the mood. “Oh! He’s like me then? I always need to plan for everything.”

“Yeah something like that.”

Tara leaned forward to chime in eagerly. “My boyfriend is the total opposite. He’ll text and ask to grab a drink and then suddenly it’s a whole night out. Spontaneous dates are the best though!”

Tara was a yapper. You didn’t know why she was suddenly oversharing. Maybe it was to compensate for leaking rumours about you, but either way, your eyes were glazing over from her talking so much.

“Oh! Since we’re all booed up, we should do a triple date sometime!” she added, looking between you and Ember with excitement evident.

You raised your eyebrow and gave her a deadpan look that made her backpedal immediately. “Okay..okay. Too soon. Got it!”

“Very” you replied while laughing and shaking your head. “But speaking of planning things out…Trent and I are going away for a bit so I need to make sure everything’s running smoothly while I’m gone.”

“Oohh, it’s giving holiday vibes” Tara chirped with a smile. “Where are you going? Somewhere boujee like Dubai I bet. Be careful though. I heard the girlies go there to–”

“Yeah, no. Dubai’s not on the list. Definitely somewhere sunny though” you smiled back, keeping it vague because the last thing you needed was people leaking your location, even if you did just make them sign an NDA. “We just need some time to recharge for our anniversary. That’s why I’m gonna teach you how to make Rêveur today.”

Tara clapped her hands together excitedly while Ember scribbled down things in her notebook. “Finally! I’ve been dying to learn. It’ll be so fun to say I helped make Rêveur. Iconic.”

“Uh, yeah...fun. We have to get everything exactly the same every single time though. No shortcuts. If one thing goes wrong the batch will be ruined and people will notice, trust.” 

Ember glanced up from her notebook with her pen mid air. “No pressure or anything, right?” she laughed. “Is there anything specific we should know?”

“Not trying to scare you,” you began with a reassuring smile. “But the oils can burn if you’re not careful so just keep an eye on them, okay? It’ll turn the whole batch rancid and you don’t want to smell that.”

Ember moved her pen across the paper, noting everything down with focus. “What’s the safe range?”

“Maybe 70 or 80 degrees” you recited, getting into your own element. “Anything higher and it’ll burn. Anything lower and it’ll separate. Just don’t turn the heat off completely unless it gets really out of hand.”

Tara was listening with wide eyes, but she looked confused as hell. “Wait..do we just..guess if it’s too hot or not? This is exactly why I switched my major to public relations. I’m more of a vibe person.”

“That...definitely explains a lot honestly” you joked. She cringed, catching your shade about the leaks. “Just follow Ember’s lead. She seems like she’ll be good at this.”

Just as you led them to the other room to start, Trent casually strolled in and gave you a quick kiss on the lips to which Tara let out a dramatic ‘aww’.

“So cute,” she cooed.

Trent leaned in close to your ear, whispering. “Fancy a train ride after this?” He pulled out his phone, showing the date at the top of his home screen, which featured a photo of your smiling face. 

“Maybe” you dragged the word out, trying to push him away from you because he was starting to distract you. “Go stand over there T. Every time you distract me I mess something up. Move.”

“Damn” Trent drawled, stepping back with a grin with his hands up in defeat. “Didn’t know I was a hazard.”

You rolled your eyes and turned back, refocusing your attention on the task before you. “Okay!” you said, clasping your hands together while looking at Tara and Ember, who were now watching you closely. “Starting with the base note blend…”

Both girls nodded as you continued to speak. Ember jotted something down in her notebook and Tara leaned in, determined to follow along closely and learn despite her initial confusion earlier. You grabbed the first vial and smiled to yourself.

After this, I can really relax. Seriously this time.

The lesson went a lot smoother than you expected. Ember was quick to learn and caught on easily. Tara was a little slower but seemed to be enjoying herself and asking questions to make sure she understood correctly. You had original apprehension, but everything felt like it was under control this time. Once everything was cleaned up and instructions were finalized, you dismissed your assistants for the day. Tara waved with enthusiasm and promised to remember everything she learned. Ember gave you a quick nod and smile before heading out as she typed away on her phone and disappeared through the door.

An hour later, you and Trent pulled up to an area that looked nothing like Lime Street.

“T…I thought you said we were going on the train?” you asked inquisitively. “This is just a building. I’m confused.”

Trent looked smug as he parked the car. “I said train ride, yeah? I didn’t say where or how.”

You gave him a side eye while unbuckling your seatbelt. “Nuh uh. This feels like a set up. What are you up to?”

Trent laughed as he got out of the car and jogged around to open the door on the passenger’s side. He extended his hand out to help you. “Baby relax. You’re gonna love it.”

You took his hand and creased your brows while narrowing your eyes at him. “I’m not convinced. This looks like a place where someone would pull off a heist or something.”

“Nah. Nothing like that,” he reaffirmed while leading you to the building with your hands intertwined in his.

The moment you stepped inside, your skepticism turned into curiosity. The space was dimly lit and the faint sound of train wheels clicking on tracks played in the background. You adjusted your eyes and took in the sight of a perfectly crafted train interior that somewhat mimicked the train you took the day you ran into Trent for the first time.

Your jaw dropped. “No way…”

Trent squeezed your side, pleased with your reaction. “It’s an escape room.”

You spun your face at him, confused all over again. “An escape room? What does that have to do with–?”

“Look closer” he said, gesturing to a seat where a hoodie and a pair of sunglasses were carefully placed. “Ring any bells?”

The realization hit you like a freight train. “No. You didn’t…”

“I did,” his grin widened. “I figured it would be more fun than just taking the train again. Thought we could relive the day with a little twist, y’know?”

You looked around the room, your heart swelling with affection. “You had them recreate our meet cute? This is…”

“Romantic?” he finished your sentence smugly, proud of his accomplishment. 

“Cheesy as hell” you corrected him, but you couldn’t stop smiling. “But I love it.”

“Thought you might” he said, tugging you toward the seat with the hoodie. “Let’s see if we’re smart enough to get out of here.”

The first clue was tucked into the hoodie pocket. It looked like the same hoodie Trent wore the day you met him. A slip of paper read: 

What starts with the sun but ends with the moon?

You groaned, holding it up for him to see. “Okay..what does that even mean? The sky?”

Trent smirked and leaned against the seat like he knew the answer, but didn’t want to give it to you just yet. “Nah baby. Just think about it.”

You glanced back at the clue, still confused. “Um, I am thinking about it..I really don’t know. A sunset? Time?” You threw out ideas, suddenly remembering the cheeky comment you made about his hoodie and sunglasses that day. “Wait..is it an eclipse thing?”

“Close. Think simpler.”

Your mind churned before it finally clicked for you. “A day!” you blurted out. “Starts with the sun and ends with the moon.”

Trent nodded, grinning as he reached into a luggage rack to pull out an envelope. “I knew you would get it eventually.”

You snatched the envelope from his hand, rolling your eyes. The second clue had a small calendar drawn on it with a single number circled – 22. The day you first met. 

“Okay. Too predictable Trent..”

“Is it?” he asked. “Could just be the start of a combo…”

The two of you scanned the fake train car, piecing together the rest of the lock combination from the small details that were hidden throughout the room. There were train tickets tucked into a seat pocket, coordinates of London and Liverpool printed on a travel map, and a tiny key taped underneath a windowsill. After solving each clue, you ended up with 2206 as the final code.

“2206. What’s the 6 from?” you wondered out loud.

Trent smiled as he punched the code into the lock box near the door. “That’s the platform the train left from. London to Liverpool..platform six.”

Your jaw dropped again as the lock box opened. “How do you know that? You didn’t even get on at that stop.”

Trent shrugged and pulled you into a quick kiss. “That day is burned into my brain forever. Had to do my research.”

You shook your head and ran your fingers along his jawline lightly before opening the next compartment. “You really went all out for this. Kinda scared of what you have planned for our official anniversary.”

Inside the compartment was a miniature bottle of a fragrance. “Musk” you said, sniffing the vial thoughtfully. “This was in the escape room? T, did you take this from–”

“Nah, I had nothing to do with that one.” he interrupted, holding his hands up. “Just the universe messing with us again.” He took the bottle out of your hand and sniffed it. “Maybe we could add it as one of the last ingredients? And make it unisex so anyone can wear it..”

His suggestion made you smile while you watched him analyze the scent in a similar way he did with bergamot that fateful day on the train. “That’s...actually not a bad idea. But we need one more to balance it all out.” You didn’t have your notebook with you, so you quickly pulled out your phone to type it into your notes app. You reached for Trent’s hand to intertwine it with yours to pull him along to the next clue. “I can’t believe you had them do all of this for us..”

As you turned the corner, the scene shifted to a football themed section. There was a goalpost, a whiteboard, and lockers lining the wall. Trent’s eyes lit up instantly and you knew you lost him to his competitive side.

“Aight” he began, cracking his knuckles and stepping forward. “My time to shine.”

You stifled a laugh. “Baby you’re not on the pitch. It’s just an escape room.”

Trent smiled as he took in the sight of the room. “Doesn’t matter. I’m still gonna win.”

Amused by his determination, you egged him on. “Okay vice captain. Lead the way.”

The football themed section had Trent written all over it. The lockers were labelled with Liverpool legends like Gerrard and Dalglish. On the whiteboard, a series of Xs and Os formed a tactical setup with a question written above it:

What year did Liverpool win their first European Cup?

Trent snorted and crossed his arms, like the question was something ingrained in his memory. “Easy. 1977. Rome. Borussia Mönchengladbach.”

The board beeped as a hidden compartment clicked open and revealed a small key. You scoffed at him in disbelief. “How do you know that? You weren’t even born yet.”

“History baby,” he replied. “Can’t wear the badge without knowing where it came from.”

You handed him the small key, shaking your head. “Nerd.”

“Maybe. But I’m a nerd who just unlocked the next step.”

Trent slid the key into a lock on the side of a locker and the door swung open to reveal a small podium holding a mini golden football. Another note was propped up beside it that read:

Score a goal, but don’t forget to hit the crossbar first.

“Oh here we fucking go” you muttered. “They’re really feeding into your ego now.”

Trent grinned as he pulled you in for a kiss. “You could be supportive like a normal girlfriend…”

You laughed and cupped your hands around your mouth to slip into your best commentator impression, mocking him with your support. “The man with the golden touch..stepping up to the challenge of a lifetime.”

“Keep it up and I’ll miss on purpose.” he teased, setting up the ball.

“You won’t” you shot back. “I’ll boo you…”

Trent lined up his shot and took a few steps back. The ball sailed into the air and struck the crossbar with the only type of ease your boyfriend could accomplish.

“WOW WHAT A HIT!” you yelled, jumping up and down like you were in the Kop. “Alexander-Arnold with a stunning strike!”

Trent turned, grinning ear to ear as he pointed at you. “You’re not bad at that…but it’s not good either. Gotta work on the commentator voice.”

You stuck your tongue out at him and moved over to the makeshift goalpost. “Okay. Let’s try this then. I’m the keeper now.”

Trent gave you a curious look, wondering if you were serious, but when you didn’t move, his look turned into amusement. “You gonna try to stop me? Alright. No mercy baby.”

You clapped your hands and bounced on your toes like you saw keepers do on match days. “I’m channelling my inner Alisson Becker. You’re not getting past me T.”

Trent set the ball down again and shook his head at your antics, but he was enjoying every second judging by the smile that hadn't faltered from his face. He took a few steps back, focused and ready while you spread your arms dramatically across the goal.

“And it’s Y/N L/N in goal!” you yelled in your best – yet below average, commentator voice. “Can she keep Trent Alexander-Arnold from clinching the game?”

“Not a chance,” Trent whispered under his breath, smirking. You really thought he would take it easy on you but he didn’t. He didn’t have to try too hard and the ball flew into the net easily. You lunged for it, trying to make the save, but your foot did something weird, making you tumble to the floor and land on your side, groaning. Trent jogged over, trying and failing not to laugh as he crouched beside you.

“You okay baby?”

You rolled onto your back, squinting up at him while rubbing your hip. “Fuck. How does Ali do this? He makes it look so easy.”

Trent reached out a hand to lift you to your feet. “You have the heart for it..I’ll give you that.”

You took his hand to let him pull you up as you brushed yourself off. “Next time I’m saving it.”

“Next time, huh?” He wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you close. “We’ll see. It’s game over for now, though.”

The final compartment snapped open with a thud, revealing a small envelope. Trent grabbed it, beaming as he opened it up. Inside was a handwritten note:

Congratulations on finding your way out! Here’s to your next adventure together.

Alongside the note were dinner reservations on the date of your official anniversary. You weren’t familiar with the restaurant, but the name sounded familiar – Lovebirds. Next to it, an itinerary to go to St. Barts, featuring photos of a private villa with direct beach access.

You blinked at the papers in Trent’s hand, struggling to process the details. “Wait..what is this?”

He turned the envelope toward you so that you could see it better. “Dinner plans for our anniversary. And St. Barts.” he confessed with a smile, still not faltering. “Private villa, just you and me. Direct beach access and no distractions.”

“You planned all of this?”

Trent laughed and folded the papers to tuck them back into the envelope. “Well I had some help, but yeah. Thought we deserved something special.”

You threw your arms around him and gave him a kiss. “I don't even know what to say. You’re too sweet.”

“Don’t say anything,” he murmured into your hair. “Just show up in your bikini.”

You laughed, pulling back to look at his face. “I love you..and I’m really glad you sat next to me on the train that day.”

Trent’s eyes softened as he played with the necklace around your neck. “Same here. I can’t imagine living life without you baby. I love you too.”

The two of you made your way back to the car, hand in hand as the sun started to set over the horizon to create a cotton candy sky. “What's next?” you asked.

“Let’s go eat and figure out where the night takes us?” He recommended. “Unless you wanna make another perfume note in the car..”

You burst out laughing and swatted at his chest. “You’re such a boy.”

---

The next few weeks passed by way too fast, but they were filled with happy milestones. When Ezzie and Ziggy’s 16th birthday rolled around, it was celebrated with Trent’s family instead of your parents. His mum and dad took over hosting duties and transformed their home into a comfortable space that was overflowing with kind heartedness and laughter. Celebrating with them felt more natural than it ever did in the cold confines of your parent’s picture perfect home. Trent’s parents took your siblings in without any hesitation, and treated them like they were their own children.

The day of their birthday kicked off with Ziggy’s signing day. He officially joined Liverpool’s U18 team. The dimpled grin on his face was infectious as he showed off his new kit. The back of his shirt proudly displayed “L/N” in bold lettering and the number he chose: 16. You assumed he chose it because he signed on the day of his birthday, but you really didn’t know for sure.

“Sixteen huh?” you mocked as he spun around in the room to make sure everyone could see. “Let me guess...some deep meaningful choice about this being your year or something?”

Ziggy was enjoying the attention and smirked. “Nah, not everything has to be deep. I just like the number.”

“He’s lying!” Ezzie interrupted. “It’s because Trent wears 66. He just changed one number.”

Ziggy glared at her and flung the kit to lay on his shoulder. “Damn. Just let me have this.”

“Bubby..” Ezzie said sweetly, tilting her head as she used a childhood nickname that always wound him up. “You can have it. Just not without me calling you out first.”

Before your brother could retort, Dianne’s voice floated in from the living room. “You two..let’s save the bickering for later. We’re celebrating, remember?”

Trent’s dad popped his head into the kitchen, tongs in hand. “Z, you think you have what it takes to make first team one day? Come outside, let’s see if you can get past me.”

“You? You’re too old.. I don’t wanna embarrass you at your own house.” Ziggy scoffed, heading toward the garden in disbelief. “You’re not even the best defender in this house right now.”

“That would be me,” Trent chimed in, leaning against the fridge while smiling.

“Nah, it’s me.” Tyler cut in, walking in the room with Marcel trailing behind him. “I’d be out there instead if I didn’t give it up for you.”

Marcel snorted. “Bro you haven’t defended anything since I was a baby.” 

You stood next to the counter, slicing a piece of cake. “A family full of stars here, huh? Football, fashion...and whatever Tyler is claiming these days.”

“Aye” Tyler interjected. “I’m a dad. And I work.”

“Do you? Because the girlies are saying PLG is a money laundering scheme” you raised your brow, genuinely asking and not trying to throw shade...or maybe you were throwing shade.

The whole house burst into laughter, Marcel’s being the loudest of all despite not doing much more than Tyler. You took a bite of the white chocolate raspberry birthday cake, savouring the sweet flavour while everyone scattered around the house to do their own thing. Your anxiety still existed, but seemingly melted away once you were surrounded by the people you cared about the most. You took another bite of cake, surveying the warmth and love filling the house.

I could get used to this. This is nice.

The days following the twins birthday were a blur of activity. Ezzie’s modelling career was in full swing, and her first campaign with Miu Miu took off. Your sister’s face now adorned billboards and screens in New York, Paris and London. She was kind of iconic for someone who had just turned 16, and you were living for it. Your mum had definitely ate her words, rightfully so. 

Meanwhile, Camille was splitting her time between Manchester, Paris, and Barcelona. Her relationship with Jules grew stronger with every passing day and the two of them were officially the most fashionable couple you knew. Camille’s voice hummed through the phone one day as you shuffled around your newly expanded wardrobe in you and Trent’s home. You were partially listening while you went through your clean laundry, trying to place everything in their new spot.

“I think Jules might be my soulmate” she gushed with her voice tinged with dreaminess that was very out of character for her. “I’ve been planning out outfits for the next month and he just gets it Y/N. He even coordinates with me sometimes. Who is this man?”

You froze mid fold, barely believing your ears. “Camille? Camille Saint-Clair??” you said slowly, dragging out her first name and surname for emphasis. “Is this my best friend? Soulmates and coordinating outfits with a man is crazy.”

She groaned but the dreaminess in her voice was still unmistakable, the girl was in love. “Shut up. I just– I may be falling for him a little. But I’m still me.”

“Anyway,” she added, trying to switch the subject back to you. “What about you and your lover boy? Where are you two going for your anniversary?”

You filled her in on Trent’s surprise escape room debacle and the upcoming trip to St. Barts, to which she simply responded:

“Don’t get pregnant. Use your butt..or mouth. Seriously. There’s an epidemic out here and the world doesn’t need anymore Aquariuses or Pisces.”

You giggled and shook your head. “Isn’t your dad a–” “Yeah, he is.. so trust me when I say that. Use your butt girl.”

Before you could fully recover from Camille’s out of pocket advice after ending the call, Trent walked into the bedroom shirtless with a towel slung over his shoulder from just getting out of the shower.

“What’s so funny?” he asked, stretching his arm behind his head as he sprawled out on the bed. 

You made your way to the bed and sat on top of him. “Camille,” you smirked, grazing your hands over his toned abdominal muscles. “She gave me some interesting advice for our anniversary.”

“Should I be worried?”

“Nooo” you sang, leaning over to kiss him. “I think we’ll have enough time for me to use all three holes.”

“Three holes? Huh??”

Before you could explain, Trent’s phone rang with a FaceTime call. You glanced at the screen to see Jude’s name flashing across the screen. You groaned and picked up the phone to answer, turning the phone toward Trent’s face, but Jude started talking before either of you could speak.

“Aye! What’s good bro? What are you up to?” Jude’s smile filled the screen.

“Just chilling,” Trent replied, sitting up slightly with his hand palming over your thigh, gently massaging your soft skin. “Why? What’s up?”

“Mate, I’m scheming. Me, Jobe, Toby – lad’s night out at the club. You down?” Jude waggled his eyebrows for emphasis, already sold on his own plan.

Trent shook his head. “Nah. Not tonight man.”

“Bro come on,” Jude groaned, throwing his head back in annoyance. “It’s been ages. Don’t do me like this. I’ll keep the girls away so Y/N won’t get mad.”

You cut in with a pointed tone. “Jude..he’s not going anywhere tonight.”

Jude squinted at the camera, trying to figure out where your voice was coming from, but he didn’t realize you were the one holding the phone until you turned the phone back to your face. “Y/N don’t tell me you’re one of those girls. He’s a grown man..let him have some fun.”

“Jude it’s the night before our anniversary” you noted firmly. “Fun doesn’t include babysitting you lot.”

“Babysitting? I’m not a child” Jude protested. “Well..maybe Jobe is but I’m capable of looking after myself.”

“The child in question can drive and cook..you can’t.” you quipped, turning the phone back to Trent. “Tell him, T.”

Trent laughed and shook his head. “Sorry man. Boss has spoken. You understand.”

Jude sighed dramatically, acting like somebody had just broken his heart into a thousand pieces. “Fine, ditch us for Y/N. But don’t come complaining when you realize what you’re missing. Proper memories being made without you, for sure!”

Trent smirked, raising his hands higher on your thigh which made you erupt into a fit of giggles. “I’m good with the memories I’m about to make. Next time though.”

“Ah, fair. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do. Happy anniversary by the way!”

At Les Notes d’Amour, things had fallen into a pleasant rhythm that you were comfortable with. Ember and Tara managed to keep the Rêveur production on track without any hiccups. There were no other unexpected leaks, no missed steps, and no drama – just the way you liked it. There were a couple of moments when Tara’s bubbly personality led her into long tangents about footballers or her latest obsession with matcha boba. You occasionally had to step in with a gentle “Tara.. focus,” but overall, the shop felt stable in their hands. 

With your anniversary creeping closer, you found yourself balancing preparations for your trip to St. Barts and figuring out how to celebrate with Trent before your flight. You hadn’t given him the watch yet, saving it for the perfect moment. 

But today was the day.

You stood in front of the mirror that night, adjusting your dress. As you zipped it up halfway, you heard Trent’s footsteps behind you.

“Need a hand?” he asked in a low voice.

You turned a little to look at him through the mirror. A flashback of him fucking you while you watched in the mirror flashed across your mind. “Are you offering to help or to undo it? Because last time you said you were going to help…”

“Both” he replied instantly, stepping behind you to slide the zipper the rest of the way up. His broad hands caressed your sides and he scanned your figure in the mirror. “We’ll just save the other part for later. Or we can have a quickie…”

The warmth from Trent’s breath tickled against your neck as his hands lingered on your waist to pull you flush against him. The smell of Rêveur and your perfume wrapped around you to create the most perfect, intoxicating scent that paired amazingly well together. His eyes met yours in the mirror and darkened, filled with a mixture of love and carnal desire.

“Don’t” you warned, swatting his hand playfully. “We have all night and next week for that.”

“I’m just appreciating the beautiful view” he said smoothly, running his hands up and down your sides. He leaned in closer to the crook of your neck, inhaling softly. “You smell so good. What did you decide to name this one?”

You smiled and adjusted the petaled drapes falling across your shoulders. “It’s called Vanille Étoilée.” You caught his gaze in the mirror and continued. “It means starry vanilla in French. Sweet like honeyed vanilla, warm like amber, but soft enough to stay on my skin for a long time like the stars in the sky. Thought it was fitting because it compliments Rêveur pretty well..”

“Vanille Étoilée” he repeated. Surprisingly the French words rolled off his tongue with ease despite his scouser accent. “I like it.” Trent dipped his head down to kiss the corner of your jaw and trailed the kisses down to your collarbone. “Smells…” He paused and placed another kiss on your skin while inhaling you again, “so fucking good.”

You turned around to press a hand to his chest and stepped back. “Okay..enough. You can’t just jump straight to dessert. Have some decorum.”

Stepping into Lovebirds felt like stepping into an ethereal fairytale. The outside world was replaced with an atmosphere that was enchanting. Golden lighting pranced off lush greenery that framed the private alcoves scattered throughout the room. Each one was designed to give diners a sense of secluded romance. There were ornamental branches stretched above with interwoven leaves and lights to give the ceiling a romantic glow. You could hear a subtle twine of acoustics playing a gentle tune to add to the ambiance.

Trent’s hand rested on the curve of your back and his fingers grazed the exposed skin. “This place is nice” he murmured in a whispered tone as his gaze shifted from one part of the room to another.

“Yeah, it is. The name is really fitting innit?” you replied, glancing up at him with a smile. The place truly did feel like it was designed with soulmates in mind. There were multiple details that echoed the love and connection shared between lifelong partners. You followed the host as they led you to a table nestled beside a trickling indoor fountain. 

The table may as well have been a piece of art itself. There was a delicate feather motif that ran along its edges and two menus were placed neatly on top of silky soft cloth. Both menus were embossed in gold lettering with your names, which caught you by surprise. Trent definitely had used up all his creativity with the escape room idea, so there was no way in hell he had any part in the decor for the table. But if it wasn’t him..who did?

The waiter approached minutes later with a carefully balanced tray of artfully crafted drinks.

“Good evening” he began with a warm smile. “To start, we have two cocktails inspired by our esteemed guests.” He set a golden hued drink in front of Trent first.

“This is the Golden Hour. It has a blend of whiskey, ginger beer, and a touch of citrus, topped with golden edible flakes. It’s got strength and finesse, much like Mr. Alexander-Arnold’s touch on the pitch.”

Trent tilted his head, amused and curious as he lifted the drink to inspect it. “Golden Hour?” he mused, swirling the drink slightly to watch the edible flakes diffuse across the liquid. “Can’t argue with that.”

“And for you” the waiter continued, placing a glass in front of you. “We have the Moonlit Muse. It’s a delicate mix of lychee, vanilla vodka, and champagne served with an iridescent shimmer. Sweet and complex, inspired by your work and artistry as a perfumer.”

You took a sip, feeling the sweetness of the lychee and fizziness of the champagne intertwine to create a perfect start to the evening. “This is incredible” you complimented with a smile. “Thank you!”

The food was just as impressive. Trent opted for a ribeye steak that was charred to perfection and served with truffle butter, garlic mashed potatoes, and seared shrimp. Your dish was a salmon fillet plated with saffron and champagne cream sauce that rested on a bed of wilted spinach and buttered baby carrots. There was a garnish of edible flowers on the plate, making it almost too pretty to eat. 

The chef approached your table shortly after you both finished eating. She was dressed in a cleanly pressed chef’s coat with her name embroidered elegantly on the chest. She clasped her hands in front of her.

“I hope the evening has been everything you hoped for lovebirds” she cheered in a joyful tone.

You blinked, staring at her for a minute before you realized she was the same chef from the private cooking class you had with Trent the day you made things official. “Wait..you’re the chef from the class we took last year!”

Her smile widened and she nodded. “Yes, that’s me. I didn’t think you would remember.”

“Of course I remember!” you exclaimed, feeling a wave of nostalgia wash over you. “We nearly burned down your kitchen with our nonsense.”

“Best date we ever had so far. Hands down.” Trent added, smiling back at the chef.

“I can’t thank you two enough” The chef spoke proudly. “The night the video went viral I started getting all sorts of requests for catering, private events, cooking classes and it just snowballed from there. When this space became available.. I couldn't resist it.”

“Wow” you breathed, glancing around at the beautifully curated space with new appreciation. “That’s really amazing. This place is stunning.”

“Thank you” she responded sincerely. “I owe you two more than you know. That night wasn’t just a turning point professionally. It reminded me of why I love what I do. Seeing the joy on your faces that night..even covered in flour, was a reminder of what food can bring to people. I just wanted to say thank you..for everything.”

The waiter appeared again, carrying two perfectly risen soufflés. The delicate tops were dusted with powdered sugar and you could smell the faint aroma of chocolate wafting through the air. The chef grinned as she set the desserts in front of you. After taking a quick photo with the chef, you could finally dig into your soufflés.

“Enjoy lovebirds! Happy anniversary!” the chef cheered, holding a hand over her heart dramatically as she walked away to head back to the kitchen.

You scooped your spoon into the airy dessert. “Mmm, finally! This was so worth it. Best soufflé ever.”

Trent nodded in agreement, savouring his first bite. “Third time’s the charm, huh?”

After finishing dessert, you turned to Trent with a sly smile and reached into your clutch to pull out a carefully wrapped box. You slid the box across the table toward him. “This is for you..”

Trent’s curiosity piqued as he grabbed the box and unopened it with care to reveal the watch with the midnight blue dial and moon phase indicator. “Damn. This is nice!” he excitedly yelled out while clasping the watch onto his wrist. “What’s this thing on here?”

“It’s a moon phase indicator. So you don’t have to google when the full moons are anymore.”

Trent looked up at you, his brown eyes filled with adoration. “Not gonna lie. This might be the best gift I’ve ever gotten.”

You rolled your eyes, assuming he was doing too much over a silly little watch, even if it was expensive. “T..it’s just a watch. I don’t think–”

“Nah. Not just a watch” he corrected you, calibrating the moon phase indicator with his hand. “I feel like I’m always buying gifts for everyone else..so this is nice. I love it. I love you.”

You bit your lip, trying to hide your smile and stop the happy tears that were threatening to spill over your lash line. “Aww baby. Don’t make me cry in public. I love you too.”

Trent leaned over to give you a tender, soft kiss on your lips before pulling back, both of you smiling like idiots at each other. You giggled awkwardly and looked around.

“Sooo..um..where’s my gift?” you questioned him jokingly. “Not that this dinner wasn’t amazing but..”

Trent smirked and leaned back in his chair. “It’s at home. It’s being set up as we speak.”

After another hour of conversation, you finally headed back home to see what Trent had planned. When you made it back to the house, you hopped out of the car before Trent could even put it in park mode.

“Close your eyes,” Trent instructed you as you made your way into the house. You closed your eyelids while he led you up the stairs. “Don’t look yet.”

“I’m not looking!” you yelled, but you were willing your pupils to see through the thin skin of your eyelids.

“Alright, ready?” Trent spoke softly into your ear and positioned you in front of the bedroom door.

“Yes..” you replied impatiently, itching to open the door yourself. “Can I look?”

Trent nodded but he forgot your eyes were still closed, so you both stood there awkwardly for a minute before you spoke up again. “Umm..Trent??”

“Oh shit! I forgot.” He laughed, opening the door. “Yeah, open your eyes baby.”

When you opened your eyes, your breath caught. The bedroom was decorated with balloons that hovered near the elevated ceiling. Illuminated candles softly flickered and danced across the wall to cast shadows that felt alive, like they were celebrating along with you. The bedside table had a rose bouquet that was so large it was almost falling over. On the bed, a collection of gifts were neatly arranged in wrapping paper of your favorite colors, topped with curled and tied ribbons.

Your hand flew to your mouth and your eyes filled with tears. “Trent…”

He leaned into you to kiss you on your cheek. “Happy anniversary baby.”

As the scene washed over you, you traced your fingers over the silk ribbons on the gifts. “I only got you a watch and you did all of this? T this is way too much..”

“Nah, it’s not. Just showing how much I appreciate you.”

Smiling, you sat down on the edge of the bed and grazed your fingers over a smaller box that was tucked behind the others. “What’s this one?” you asked, reaching for it.

Before you could lift the lid, Trent’s hand shot out and snatched the box away from you with a quickness that caught you off guard and made you frown. “Nah! Not that one. You can’t open that yet.”

This box in particular was the engagement ring he was keeping hidden away for another year or two. Whoever was responsible for the setup must’ve accidentally mistaken it for an anniversary gift, nearly ruining the night all together.

You creased your brow and stood on your tippy toes to reach it. “Why not? What’s in it? Let me see!”

“Nope” he laughed as he moved it further out of your reach and nestled it into a drawer. “You’ll ruin the surprise.”

“What surprise?” you questioned him, trying to reach toward the drawer without him realizing, but he was faster than you. He gripped your hand mid air and pulled you into him. You instinctively put your arms around his shoulders and his lips found yours to silence anymore of your protests. You pulled away from him, grinning as you bit your bottom lip. “You’re trying to distract me from that box…”

His face nestled into the crook of your neck and he nibbled on the skin above your collarbone. “Is it working?” 

Your hum of approval melted into a soft sigh as Trent’s lips continued to brush against the delicate curve of your neck. With each kiss, he trailed down slower to map out coordinates of love. His hands trailed up from your hips to the bare curve of your back under the silky fabric of your dress. He thumbs padded massaging circles on your skin that made it hard to think about anything other than the feeling of him against you.

“Maybe…” you mumbled in a quiet voice.

“Good” Trent continued peppering you with kisses. “Let me finish distracting you then.”

Trent’s hands traced over the zipper of your dress, slowly unzipping it until the silky fabric was tossed to the floor. “You’re so fucking beautiful” he muffled against your skin, brushing over the laced trim on your panties.

“You’re talking too much” you whined, arching into him to silently beg for more than what he was giving you at the moment.

“Yeah?” His fingers hooked under the lace trim, pulling them down to reveal your slick core. “You want more?”

You nodded, “Please.”

Trent kissed his way down your stomach, nibbling on your skin with his hungry lips. When he finally reached your pussy, he paused, glancing up at you with a cocky look while licking his lips. 

“Trent” you panted, gripping the sheets as his breath fanned over where you really wanted him. “Don’t tease me. I need you..”

“Ah..so impatient” he smirked, kissing your inner thigh. He flicked his tongue out, licking a stripe between your pussy that made your back arch off the bed. “Let me hear you baby.”

“Shit” you gasped, gripping his head with your hands as his tongue started working against your clit in a slow, intentional pace that had you squirming and arching underneath him.

“Stay still” he commanded, gripping your thighs to pin you in place. You tried to comply, but you couldn’t stop trying to push your hips against him to chase your high. 

The flicks of his tongue and pressure from him lightly suctioning your clit made you moan his name loudly and buck into him. Just as you were about to reach the point of no return, Trent’s phone rang loudly on the bedside table, cutting through your bliss immediately.

“Fuck me” you groaned, pulling a pillow against your face in frustration.

“We’re getting to that part…” he joked, already pulling back from your core to glance at the screen. “It’s Jude.”

“I really don’t care who it is,” you snapped, pulling at his arm to bring his attention back to you and the orgasm you desperately needed. “Do. Not. Answer.”

He pondered for a second like he was torn, but then the phone started ringing again and you could see the gears turning in his head. “I’ll just tell him I’m busy real quick.”

“Trent,” you warned in a dangerously low voice. “I swear if you answer that fucking phone right now…”

“Alright! I’m not answering it” He declined the call, tossing the phone aside. “Happy now?”

“Ask me again after you make me c– oh my god, yesss” your words quickly turned into moans of pleasure as he dove back in, tongue on your clit and fingers curling and thrusting inside of you.

“You taste so fucking good” he whispered, still lapping against your clit with vigor. “Cum for me baby.”

You whimpered his name when his tongue danced against your clit faster. You felt the pressure build and snap all at once before you could warn him, but he didn’t remove himself from your clit and kept licking until you were squirming from overstimulation.

“Mmh, T..I can’t” you begged, pushing against his shoulders. When he finally rose from your core, he licked his lips and trailed kisses back up to your lips.

“You good?” he asked, kissing your neck. “Tell me what you need.”

“I need you to fuck me” you replied, pulling at one of his belt loops so that he would get the hint to take his clothes off. His clothing quickly joined your dress on the floor and he stroked his dick a few times before pushing into your slick folds, slow and steady so that you could adjust to the girth before he started moving.

“Goddamn” he muttered through tight teeth. “You’re so fucking tight. Relax baby.”

“I can’t” you moaned back, gasping for air in between thrusts. “F-fuck. I’m gonna cum again.”

The desperation you had for him made him laugh, stroking his ego as he stroked into you, but it quickly turned into a groan when you rolled your hips to meet him thrust for thrust.

“Yeah, yeah. Keep doing that.” he stuttered, gripping your hips to guide you. “Fuck, baby. Just like that....good girl.”

The wet, slick sounds of your bodies moving in tandem filled up the room, dramatized by your breathless moans of pleasure. The tightness in your core threatened to snap and Trent’s movements became more frenzied as his fingers gripped deep into your skin.

“I love you. I love the way you fuck me” you needily moaned, trying to push him over the horizon. “Cum in me. Please Trent? Fill me up.”

“Shit” he hissed, faltering his hips for a split second to force himself to slow down. “I can’t baby. We said–”

You rocked up against him so more of his cock filled you. The way his jaw clenched in concentration and the way his body shook let you know he was fighting against the inevitable. “Pleaseee. I want it.”

“Fuckkkk” he groaned, holding you in place as he tried to gain control. He moved his hips more slow and shallow. “You’re squeezing me.”

You whimpered and raked your nails down his back as your pussy began to flutter and milk him. “Oh my god, I love you” you moaned over and over again as you came undone around his dick. He filled you up shortly after, his control shattering like glass with one last groan.

“I love you too” he muttered between a kiss attack on your lips. “You’re my everything..my forever.”

“Is that so?” you cooed, wrapping your arms around him to cherish the moment.

While you were enjoying your alone time with Trent, both of your phones were being bombarded with calls and notifications. The internet was set ablaze once again. A little too literally this time around:

SpillTheBeansUK 🚨 Y/N L/N, girlfriend of Liverpool star Trent Alexander-Arnold, is at the center of chaos tonight after her boutique Les Notes d’Amour burned to the ground in suspected arson. Arrested? None other than her assistant Ember F, and her EX-BOYFRIEND Aaron C – a shady ex-businessman who’s now dating Ember. 😳🔥 Coincidence? We’re not so sure… 👀

astrologychica99: omg remember when that tarot reader mentioned the tower card in the comments? THEY WERE RIGHT!!

PerfumeObsessed32: does this mean my bottle of rêveur isn’t coming?? i’ve been waiting!!!

BaddieFromBrum: not y’all worried about your rêveur order when her shop just literally burned down.. you’re so unserious

ELovesChaos: whoever’s writing her life needs to chill. give her a break i beg!

EauDeGossip: imagine finding out your ex and your assistant are plotting against you? i’d be in jail!

FragranceFanatic89: does anyone know if she’s okay? is she safe?

MadMadness: so ember went from assistant to arsonist?? girl.. seek help!!

DidUCatchIt: can we talk about the name ember? the signs were there people! 

scousergirl4lyfe: if I was Y/N i’d never trust a single soul again..like ever. not even trent

IconicAndTired: not STB becoming the BBC of mess 😭 i live for this page

WriterPlsChill: WTF?!?!

4AMTHOUGHT: end of an era 💔😭

-

What was supposed to be a peaceful and quiet night before a romantic holiday, was cut short by frantic banging on the door. Trent froze and looked around, not expecting anyone at this hour. “What the fuck?”

“Who is that?” you asked, startled by the sudden noise.

“No fucking clue. Did you order something?” he asked back, taking a quick glance over his shoulder.

“No...”

Both of you quickly sat up to get dressed in more comfortable clothing but the banging didn’t stop. While descending the stairs, muffled voices became clearer – more familiar to the ear. Trent unlocked the door cautiously, only for it to fly open with Camille and Jude barrelling in.

“Are you okay?!” Camille’s voice cracked as she reached for you, wrapping you into her arms tightly.

“Huh? I’m fine! Why are you acting so weird?” you asked with a pounding heart.

Jude’s usual playful personality wasn’t there and was replaced by a serious expression instead, like he took pity on you. “Mate..she needs to sit down” he whispered to Trent, who was looking increasingly tense.

“For what? What’s going on?”

Before Jude could answer, headlights and blue flashes from a police car flooded through the windows in an ominous pattern. 

When the uniformed officer arrived at the door, he stood solemnly in the doorway. “Is Y/N L/N here?”

Your mouth went dry. “Um..yeah. That’s me” you said softly, stepping forward despite Trent’s attempt to hold you back.

“Sorry to inform you Miss L/N..but your store was destroyed in a fire tonight. It’s been ruled as suspected arson.”

The words hit you like a bus. You weren’t able to process the sentence the officer just delivered. “My store?” you whispered, repeating as if that would make the truth hurt any less. Your knees wobbled and Trent’s arm shot out to steady you. “No…” you added, voice trembling. “That’s not possible. I was literally just there the other day.”

The officer glanced at Trent, hesitating before continuing. “I’m sorry Miss L/N. There’s no saving it. The building is completely gone.”

The moment he ended his sentence the air was knocked out from your lungs. You felt nothing. Suddenly your legs couldn’t support you anymore. You collapsed into Trent’s chest and a broken cry tore from your throat. You felt your heart shatter into sharp shards that could never be repaired or mended. “No, no, no” you repeated, clinging onto Trent to keep you tethered to reality, but his presence didn’t do much to stop the slurry of cruel, twisted dark thoughts emitting from your brain.

“Baby breathe” Trent coached in a low, shaky voice. “I got you.”

You couldn’t do that. Every breath suddenly felt like you were inhaling smoke, suffocating under the weight of words that just kept getting worse the more the officer spoke. Les Notes d’Amour – the place you poured your entire heart and soul into – was reduced to nothing more than a pile of smoky, pulverized ash. All thanks to a series of carefully crafted events that was supposed to be your ‘serendipity’.

It didn’t seem like that anymore after the officer said the names. 

“Aaron Caldwell was arrested at the scene, along with Ember Flanagan. Your other assistant, Tara, was found safe at home.”

Your body immediately went rigid. “Aaron?” you croaked, pulling away from Trent.

The officer nodded with a grim expression. “Yes ma’am. It appears he and Miss Flanagan conspired on this together.”

He wasn’t supposed to be able to get to you again, or so you thought. Camille told you she made sure of it. His name carried so much pain that you vowed to never say it again, but this whole situation caught you off guard.

“He wasn’t supposed to..” you whispered in a broken voice. “He wasn’t supposed to be able to get to me again.” You turned to Camille who was now frozen with tears in her own eyes. “Camille you promised me!”

Her face looked guilty, but she had nothing to be guilty for; it honestly wasn’t her fault.

“I didn’t know about Ember,” she stammered. “I didn’t know they were together. I’m so sorry.”

Her apology didn’t register in your ears. Nothing did. Your chest heaved up and down as the panic finally set in fully. Every bad memory, every moment of manipulation and betrayal crushing you all at once. You couldn’t see nor could you hear. All you felt were the walls of life encasing you in misery now that your dream had erupted in flames. You heard distorted voices of Jude, Camille, and Trent trying to comfort you, but their voices barely registered over the one screaming at you in your mind.

Camille crouched in front of you with tears streaming down her face. “Y/N..you’re not alone, okay? We’re here.”

Of course her words were meant to be comforting, but it only made things worse as the ache in your chest grew tighter. “I don’t care!” you screamed, yanking your hands away from hers. “None of this matters anymore! He ruined everything! This would’ve never happened if I never–”

“Baby stop” Trent’s voice was breaking now too. He pulled you into him again, whispering against your ear. “He can’t hurt you anymore. He’s arrested.”

You pulled away, tears streaming down your anguished face as you stared at Trent with a broken, jaded expression. “I’m not talking about Aaron” you choked out, raw and heavy.

“I’m talking about you.”

thank you for reading! please leave thoughts in my inbox 💋🤍

song inspo:

[onestrangechild]

What your fav Legion says about you, from some nerd on an app

Ultramarines:

I like to think of you guys like Glock owners. Yes, on paper, you guys are the least creative but that means you guys are the most reliable. Guilliman was probably the best primarch to come back to the setting because he was the most stable, and it shows in his marines, who don’t have trauma for the sake of plot. You admire the other legions, but it’s the no nonsense approach they bring to battle that you respect the most.

For honor and glory.

Blood Angels:

You think Vampires are dope as Fuck, and you’re right. Your favorite TV show is probably season 1 of Netflix’s Castlevania (same) or HELLSING, and play the Vampire Counts in the Total War Warhammer games. You go into a seething rage at the merest mention of the WarMaster, and probably wanna rip Erebus’s hearts out and lay them before sanguinius’s feet. You’re probably a bit annoyed with people hiding their gear from you because they think you’re a Blood Raven, but you’ll forgive them in time.

Dark angels:

You think Medieval Knights are dope as Fuck, and you’re right. You dig the chivalry and honor they embody at all times, think dark green and gold looks drippy (it does), and think the Lion is an absolute badass (he is). You also probably grieved for what the honored 1st could’ve been before GW wrote them to all be paranoid douchebags, and can’t wait for the returned Lion to make some changes around his legion. Also, you’re extremely tone deaf, please learn to read the room yall

Salamanders:

OUT OF THE FIRE, AND UNTO THE ANVIL!

Whilst I’m more of a Blood Angel or Iron Hand myself, I have Immense respect for the sons of Vulkan. You think blacksmithing is cool as fuck and probably watch clips of Forged in Fire, or any of the various Blacksmith YouTubers there are. You also think Fire is cool, and think that Astartes should be nicer to Guardsmen in lore.

Imperial Fists:

As an Iron Warrior simp, suck my toes you Imperial Favorite. Now that that’s out of the way, the Imperial Fists is an entire legion of Engineers including you (probably). You think Emotions only make Simple things Complex and thus think as logically as life will let you, fair enough. Youre as tired of the “Imperial Fists are as cold as their home world” about as much as you are of Perturabo’s complaining, miss your genefather, and can feel the happy chemicals SURGING in your brain looking upon a reinforced defense manned by soldiers who’s only concern is holding the line.

Iron Hand:

As an Iron Hand myself, I know the “daddy issues” joke is fruit hanging lower than Ferrus Manus’s head rolling around on the floor, so I won’t. You’re a lot like an Imperial Fist, critically logical and as stalwart as Iron, but unlike imperial fists you’re allowed to have a personality! Unfortunately that Personality is tempered by a healthy dose of Trauma! Your hatred for the Emperor’s Children is just as violent as the Blood Angels and the Sons of Horus, and you pray Fulgrim gets a model so you can personally shoot him in the mouth.

White Scars:

You’re a vehicle guy, and you like going Fast. You also have a great appreciation for cultures like Feudal Japan, Ancient China, Mongolia, etc. idk what else to put here since I’ve never really… looked into their lore… (-(

Raven Guard:

You’re a quiet person, maybe you’re emo/punk, maybe you like dressing up gothic, but you’re definitely the quiet type. Whether that’s social anxiety or just a person of few words doesn’t matter too much, you vibe with the sad raven boys cuz they’re badasses. Unfortunately I cannot take those beaked helmets seriously.

Space Wolves:

I heard an explanation that I agree with once. You guys have such a rich history, a badass primarch that’s probably gonna return (eventually), and a very well developed Viking aesthetic that Is appreciated by those willing to dig into it… but to everyone on the outside you’re just a furry. And it’s kinda tragic…

Anyways, this is all just my opinion which means obviously this is Fact and should be Definitely taken as such

[custom-emojis]

Drags my corpse in here.

Hi obviously, I’m not dead. Just insanely burnt out. My boyfriends gonna be visiting me and I’m on new meds so I think by the end of the year I’ll be more normal. I plan to just not even attempt emojis until next year. This has just been a hard year for me art wise okay.

Next year I’ll try to actually be filling the queue again, but some things regarding emoji style will change and I can’t promise I’ll ever be able to deliver daily new content again. My OCD likes to pick up on habits like that way too easily and 2023 was really bad for me with the emoji queue in terms of absolutely obsessing over needing one to be posted daily at exactly the same time Or Else to the point I was missing sleep and food to fulfill it etc. I just can’t let that shit happen again and honestly daily content is an insane expectation from one person anyways.

So yeah, just a little update. I’m still active on my server but the tumblr will be just used to promote my other art until next year when I can stand to try emojis again.

Thanks for the understanding and support!

[wander-wren]

so anyway

obviously some people are using programs that are not chatgpt, or might be referencing the ai but not actually using it to write, but let’s say for a moment that there are about 500 ai-generated fics on the archive. which i think is a lowball, but we’ll see.

my official stance is that if you’re using ai to help you write due to a disability, different native language(s), or what have you, that’s fine. it is a tool. i have also seen artists use ai to generate backgrounds or buildings and draw a comic around that—that sort of thing is neat! as long as you’re building on what the ai gives you and making it your own, cool.

what i take offense to is things like this:

(the final two are from the same fic. i took out identifying info bc i don’t actually want to attack anyone here, just explain my side.)

so the main theme i keep seeing is people complaining about the ai-written fanfiction….that THEY are choosing to upload! you don’t like that it’s inaccurate or poorly written or too short, but you aren’t going to put in any effort to fix it? at all?

i understand wanting to experiment. i understand that writing your own stories is hard and can be daunting at first. but it feels gross, frankly, to fling works that took you very little effort, that you know are subpar, at an audience. you don’t think there’s enough content for your ship/fandom? WHY would you try to feed your fellow fans with something you think is bad?

it’s content for content’s sake and i do not like it.

the way this works is, if you want more content, you make it yourself. even if you’re not a good writer, even if you don’t have the best english or whatever language you’re writing in. how, pray tell, are you supposed to improve if you don’t do that?

who is this content even helping? i sorted the fics by hits to get a sense of popularity; the fic with the most hits that is completely ai-written (not using it as a tool) has 2816 hits. about half of the fics have less than 200 hits. there are real writers who might have similar stats, due to writing unpopular ships/fandoms/tropes (some of my fics do!) but across the board it’s clear ai fic isn’t drawing a lot of interest.

sorry i found this while looking at hit counts and i just. you’re not going to subtly demand content from your fellow fans in the SAME breath as admitting you are also not a content farm, but it’s fine, we’ll just have ai do it??

no. no. fandom is not about content. fandom is about community. and if you’re using ai to post fics without editing or sometimes even reading them, that tells me you’re much more interested in the former. putting aside the ethical dubiousness, putting aside the debates about “real art,” you have no courtesy.

and chatgpt can’t write.

[sleevebuscemii]

tmi

[housewifebuck]

I thought you were a lesbian

Still don't know if you are

Don't ask me why I thought this

I just kinda saw you and just went LESBIAN 🫵

PLEAAEHEKDHDKDJ this is so fucking funny. Everybody I’ve ever met in my life has clocked me a mile away

[overheaven]

i wish i could share my original art & writing here but i don’t wanna cross the streams of my Real Life Art vs my Fandom Art you know what i mean

[sahkuna]

LET'S KEEP IT PROFESSIONAL — GOJO SATORU

synopsis: the end of your contract with GS Holding Corp. is coming to an end. well, your contract working for the company's founder and CEO, gojo satoru, as his personal assistant is ending since you no longer would work directly under him. but gojo will be damned if he lets that happen without trying to change your mind.

content warning(s): fem! + afab reader, plot-ish → eventual smut so 18+ mdni, office au, risky workplace relationship, oral (m→f), unprotected, semi-public sex??? (it's in an office), pining gojo satoru bc that's my fave to write

word count: 6.7K+ holay molay...

a/n: wanted to post this bc 1) its been a millineum since i last posted & a fulfilled req and 2) mentally rejecting that manga leak/ending -_-

“I’ll miss you.”

You stand in front of the photocopy machine unmoving. The soft buzz of ink etching itself onto paper is the only sound that floats through the air beside the voice of the persistent CEO you work under. 

Had you known that he would be following you around the building, bugging you as you tried to complete the tasks that he assigned you to finish on his behalf, you would’ve straight up told him to do it himself. 

You contribute much of your time and effort to this company, and you’re highly recognized for your work. …But you absolutely didn’t need the recognition to come in the form of being under constant surveillance from your boss.

Assuming you might’ve not heard him the first time when you don’t respond right away, he leans in closer and rests a comfortable arm on your tense shoulders. “I said, I’m gonna miss you—”

“I heard you the first time, Gojo.”

When the machine stops whirring indicating that it has finished the job, you don’t hesitate to snatch the sheets of paper from the printer and slap them onto Gojo Satoru’s chest, decked out in a baby blue button-up. All too soon, you’re sidestepping around him and heading out the door toward your office right down the hall.

“Hey!” he exclaims at your sudden early departure.

Hot on your tail, Gojo trails after you clutching the papers close to his chest. “Where are you going?” Gojo asks when you take an unexpected sharp left turn from the usual route to his secluded workroom. 

Despite your best efforts to leave him behind, his tall stature annoyingly reminds you that he can keep up with you just fine.

“Y’know,” your boss starts, catching your attention as you practically speed-stomp your way down the halls of his corporation, “Ijichi would never treat me like this!” 

You could practically hear the way he pouts from behind you. When you briefly glance back to confirm your suspicions about what expression he could be wearing, you’re not surprised to see he’s throwing a wistful gaze above your head. His soft, pink lips are downturned and tacked with his snow-white brows all bunched together, probably wishing you’d be more graceful with him.

Or take pity on him at the very least, you know?

You turn back around and continue your path toward your own office space. “Well, it’s a good thing he’s coming back next month then, huh?”

Pity denied.

Gojo swore he heard the wry smile in your voice as soon as you finished your sentence. You’re willfully teasing him and playing with his emotions. But that’s why he’ll miss you— none of his employees would dare talk to him or give him the same flack as you do.

When you step into your office, so does he. And Gojo, either painfully oblivious or simply choosing to ignore the blatant act of you purposefully and almost slamming the door shut in his face, swings it wide open and ambles toward your workstation, a smile creeping onto his lips.

“Extend your contract with me,” he starts, carelessly tossing the sheaf of paperwork onto your tidy desk once he’s within arms reach of it. He peeks at you over his shades and returns your unimpressed stare with an innocent smile. “I’ll raise your salary a reasonable amount once you do.”

While that did sound nice on paper, realistically speaking, dealing with Gojo’s antics for the foreseeable future was less than ideal for you. God forbid you start getting grey hairs at such an early age. Or a raised blood pressure. And besides…

“I still work under and for Utahime’s department though,” you say matter-of-factly, once you’ve crossed the space of your room to sit behind your desk. Your lips twist into a soft pout as you shuffle the scattered sheets together and place them into a neat pile.

Ah, right.

After Ijichi had filed for a paid sick leave after an unrelated work injury several months ago, you graciously covered your colleague’s position as the personal assistant to the founder and CEO of GS Holdings Corp., for the time being.

Pushing away the urge to roll his eyes into the back of his head at the namedrop of his top leading director, Gojo deflates onto your desk.

Utahime has been on his case for the past few weeks to hurry up and file the paperwork so that you’d be back in her good graces as soon as your term with him expires. He’s been procrastinating on filing out the paperwork, mostly because he hates doing tedious work, the other half of him flat-out does not want to see you go so soon.

To say Gojo has thoroughly enjoyed you operating as his aide would be a huge understatement. 

Wherever Gojo was in his grand office building, it wouldn’t be unusual for your co-workers to spot you too far off. Outside of work is the same story, especially considering you’d be the one driving him home from work since Ijichi acted as both his assistant and driver. 

“Just switch to mine!” Gojo whines. He joins you at your desk and sits his ass right on the documents you had printed and stretches his limbs against the surface, nearly eating up all the space on your desk. He ignores your strained quips at him to get the hell off. 

“Utahime’ll be fine, let her find someone else. The job market’s already bad as is, so let another person take it and come be with me.” 

There’s a double meaning if you dig deep, and Gojo prays and hopes you’d take the time to digest what he really means. 

However, it seems like you’re not in the mood to be an excavator today.

Pushing his antics and sweet-talking to the side, you arch a questioning brow at him and lean back into your chair. There was nothing explicitly charged behind that reaction of yours, but it shook Gojo to the core realization that his attraction to you was unnerving— though not unnerving enough to have him stay away from you.

“What about Ijichi? Where’s he gonna go if I stay?”

Gojo visibly perks up at your usage of the word ‘if’, because in his mind he’s already imagined the situation to be quite likely. You see the way he sits a little taller, a little higher on your desk at the proposed question.

But alas, you dash his hopes by adding, “Which I won’t. But if I did, what then?”

“Then you guys can make it a two-person job!” he proclaims as if it were the most easy and obvious answer in the world. Gojo rests his feet on either side of your hips and the heels of his dress shoes press into the leather material of your rolling chair, prompting you to squeeze your thighs together due to the lack of room. “You know I need all the help I can get around here.”

Now it’s your turn to roll your eyes. “You’re being ridiculous, Gojo.”

With the wheels on your chair, your boss uses it as leverage to roll you impossibly closer to him than you already were, angling your face centimetres away from his lower torso. You will your eyes to not drift down his body and toward his lap.

Lord knows the field trip the man would have with that if he were to catch you blatantly checking him out right before him. 

“Why’s it so hard to convince you to stay, huh?” he asks, knocking a soft knuckle against that stubborn head of yours. “Why? You don’t like me or something?”

Your heart stutters in your chest at his question. 

Insufferable as he can be sometimes, you’d be lying if you said you didn’t feel some magnetic pull towards him. 

Losing control of the situation a bit, you grab the reins again. Clearing your throat you ask, “Do you talk to all your employees like that?”

He shakes his head. “Nah.” Gojo props an elbow onto his knee and presses his cheek into the palm of his hand. His smile grows warm and gooey when his blue eyes clash with yours from where you sit a few inches below him. “Just you.” 

You’ll die. You swear you can die right now from the way he’s looking at you— which is no way a boss would ever look at their employee. Let alone assistant. 

Keep it professional.

“Wow! I’m flattered,” you reply, your tone laced heavily with dry sarcasm. You brush his legs away, successfully bringing his feet to rest on the floor and scoot back from your desk. The heated tension that once lingered in the air clears out a bit as you rise to your feet.

Soft cerulean eyes watch as you stand before him, a bit more guarded as you cross your arms across your chest. Whatever you say next is completely lost on him because unlike you, as subtle as he may be, Gojo allows his eyes to wander.

He swallows thickly. You shouldn’t do that. His gaze inconspicuously slides down to the low neck of your blouse and zeroes in on how your arms press against your chest, deliciously squeezing your breasts together and—

“Satoru!” you hiss.

Shit.

Maybe he wasn’t as discreet as he thought.

Quickly flitting his attention back to your face, Satoru offers you a half-assed apology but it’s too late for that. Your face is screwed tight with abashment and bafflement after having caught him in the act. It’s an emotion he hasn’t seen you wear lately. He wants to see more of that. More of you.

Before you could get a word out, ready to rip him a new one about how your eyes weren’t ‘down there’, he hurriedly rushes out a proposition— changing the subject and bringing you both back to the original reason as to why he’d been following you around this past hour. “If I get you to like me, will you work past your term?”

You rest your arms at your sides, completely forfeiting your motion to scold him. Now that’s new. “I never said I don’t like you.”

Satisfaction settles in his chest, warm and heavy at your statement. Gojo liked the sound of that. 

“Then how about this,” the tall CEO moves from his seat on your desk toward you. With each step you take back, he matches you in stride until he’s got your back up against a wall. Quite literally. 

“If I get you to like me more than you do now, you stay. With me. Deal?”

The gentle scent of fabric softener and sandalwood cologne wafts around you. This proximity made you squirm with anticipation. “Do what you want,” you say, craning your neck up to stare at him resolutely. “It won’t change the fact that I’ll be in a whole new department next month.”

The smirk on Gojo’s lips stretches wide as he meets you stare for stare. His voice drips heavy with confidence and a brazen spirit as he asks, “Yeah?”

You only manage a stiff nod, not trusting yourself to speak lest it comes out as a fucking moan from the sexual tension alone.

Content with your compliant state, Gojo finally backs off from you and makes his way toward your door. “Don’t forget that meeting we have with the executives this Friday.”

“I know,” you tumble out, sinking back onto your office chair, miffed that he's got you in such a tizzy. It's a miracle that you don’t melt into it right away under his gaze.

You pick up a new batch of paperwork and begin filing them into their respective folders. When you finish with the first set, Gojo’s still lingering by the doorway, watching you.

“Yes?”

“Nice top, by the way.” His hand rests on the wooden frame, eyes half-lidded with intent. “It really does bring out your eyes.”

As expected, you did not forget about that special executive meeting on Friday. Nor did you forget about the many others you’d have to host and coordinate after that, too.

Essentially, you didn’t let what had transpired the week before deter you from your respective duties as Gojo’s personal assistant. As his right-hand… woman.

But you didn’t entirely forget about what went down either. 

Whether you adhered to his “deal” or not was completely up to you. However, after that day, every personal meeting or time alone together seemed to bristle with tension, heavy with a delicious sort of pressure of the unknown. 

When Gojo would catch your eye or you’d catch his during prolonged meetings that stretched over the initial run time with the higher-ups, there would be a brief moment of shared glances. One recent instance stuck with you to the last few weeks of your contract.

You remember how he would roll his eyes sarcastically as if he were being forced against his own will to attend these kinds of things— which technically he was, but that’s the reality of being a successful founder and CEO of your own company— and his actions would rouse a stifled giggle from you, which in turn prompted an easy smile of his own.

But it was through these shared glances, these brief moments of humour that it would slip into something a little slower, a little more sweet the more you two held eye contact like dripping honey until you broke it off, hurriedly directing your attention back toward the front of the room.

It’s only a matter of time until this bundled ball of emotions displayed through knowing glances and brief moments of heated exchanges finally snaps.

You both wonder when that’ll be.

“This is crazy.”

You slide your gaze away from swirling your cup of iced cappuccino to Shoko who sits beside you. She leans her head back against the cushions of your office sofa— a complimentary gift from Gojo two weeks ago(you suspect it was his last-ditch effort to get you to stay).

“What is?” you ask.

Sitting up, Shoko crosses her leg over the other and fixes you with an exhausted look. “This!” she exclaims, gesturing her hands around the vicinity of your room. There are moving boxes scattered everywhere, which is a bit absurd considering you’re only moving one level downstairs to your old space. 

“I can’t believe you’ve only got a week left until you switch departments,” she says. “Suguru’s gonna lose his head the moment you’re gone and Satoru’s already started with the theatrics.”

Trust and believe that you already know. It’s hard not to when you’ve got the Chief Operating Officer, Geto Suguru, knocking on your door for an offer you ‘don’t wanna turn down’. But once you’d told Geto that you were still going ahead with filling out the documents to head back to Utahime and her team, it led to a hefty chunk of your lunch being taken up by him asking (begging) you to reconsider when your contract end date drew closer. 

“I just worry for Ijichi is all,” you say, shrugging as if the situation were already out of your hands. “Gojo’s been very temperamental and… well, bratty these past few days.” 

Shoko’s brown and neatly trimmed brows shoot up with interest at the disclosure.

You think back to a few days ago when you told Satoru to take it easy on Ijichi. You told your white-haired superior that he’d have to patiently reintroduce him to the new tech and procedures that Ijichi would work with as it would be his first week back. You couldn’t believe your ears when he straight-up told you, “I don’t care about a man’s hardships. He can work them out by himself!”

“Satoru’s always tormented the poor guy,” Shoko says, shaking her head at her friend’s show of obnoxious behaviour, “but he does mean well. I think.”

And speak of the devil… 

Over the curve of Shoko’s shoulder through the open blinds of your clear, glass window you spot Gojo. Noticing that he’s caught your attention, he waves incessantly at you through the glass before you hear him twist the knob of your door open.

“Which reminds me,” your friend continues, drawing your sights back on her, “the rest of the team and I were thinking of heading out for drinks later to celebrate with you one last time. Wanna come?”

“Oooh,” Gojo drawls once he’s within earshot. 

He’s looking extraordinarily handsome today, wearing black slacks and a buttoned, linen navy blue top. He’s smiling boyishly from ear to ear when he catches you twisting your lips in a tight purse as if you were trying to stifle a smile of your own. “A celebration, hm? Can I come?”

Shoko scrunches her face at the sudden question and self-invitation. She throws a bewildered look in Gojo’s direction when he settles himself onto his signature spot in your office. Your desk. “Why?”

Huh?

What kind of question was that? Why else would he want to spend an evening out with everyone? With you especially.

White brows bunch together, tight with confusion. “To celebrate with you guys?” he responds as if Shoko had just asked a one-dimensional question. 

“You’ve been a moping mess this past month after you’ve learned that she—” Shoko points her finger into the flesh of your cheek, “—wasn’t going to extend her work contract with you. So, if anyone’s gonna be celebrating, it sure as hell isn’t you.”

Yeesh! Tell him what you really think.

Knowing Shoko didn’t mean any harm by her words, you still felt inclined to soften the blow of her statement just a tad. “Plus, you don’t drink alcohol, Gojo.”

“And you don’t drink,” Shoko adds, raising her arms in exclamation as if to thank you for bringing that point up.

“Well,” pushing himself off the edge of your mahogany desk, Gojo stops a bit before the sofa you and Shoko both occupied. “I don’t need to drink to have a good time with my team!” he defends, directing a pout-induced glower at his colleague.

You’d think he’s done, but with the touch of Gojo’s large hand grabbing your wrist and pulling you off the couch that you realize he’s far from over at stating his point. “And neither do you,” he says, he pulls you behind him, steering you both toward the door. “We’ve got plans.”

Puzzlement crosses over not only yours but Shoko’s features as well.

“We do?”

“Since when?”

Gojo nods at you and Shoko’s questions spoken in tandem. “Emergency meeting. She and I’ve got important matters to discuss.” You feel the faint brush of his hand find the small of your lower back and maneuver you out the door and away from Shoko’s view. “You wouldn’t get it.” Is the last thing he says before he pokes his tongue out at the woman and ducks out of sight.

“Oh, really?” She says, rising to her feet but making no moves to follow you both out the door.

“You don’t even put your own two cents during our regular team meetings! There’s literally nothing for you to discuss, Satoru.” You hear her call after him as he guides you down the hall, past the elevators and toward his big office.

If only she knew how true that statement would be.

Gojo hates meetings. They always happen at inconvenient moments and eat up way too much of his precious time. It’s time that he could be spending doing something else… or someone. 

Which is why this “emergency meeting” was different.

If someone had told Gojo Satoru several months ago that his favourite employee, his darling assistant would be seated pliant for him on his expensive Birch Lane executive desk he would have laughed in their face with a furious blossoming blush nipping at his neck.

But right now, there’s nothing to laugh about.

Gojo’s watching you closely in the shaded dark of his room, tracking every subtle shift in your body language for any indication that you may be uncomfortable and change your mind at the last minute. But when you wrap an arm around his neck, slotting him closer in between your legs, he realizes he couldn’t have been more wrong.

Something in the air felt different. It was thicker. Electric. 

Gojo knew in an instant he wouldn’t last when your lips ghost the words, “This doesn’t mean I’m changing my mind,” on his mouth, before tipping his head to the side, giving you the space to slot your lips with his.

Game fucking over.

Sure, maybe he wasn’t able to completely get you to change your mind about working with him and his department.

But this?

You whimper into his mouth when his hands skim down back and cheekily resting right above your ass. Your body warms underneath the palm of his hands with every touch and how he kneads your hips tucked away beneath your business casual attire.

Gojo Satoru had won in his own right.

Your breaths come quicker as he steals them from you, his left-hand squeezes your side while the other slides across your lower belly and traces the hem of your blouse.

“Take this off,” he commands, his voice wrecked with reckless abandon. His forefinger hooks on the band of your pants, in a pathetic attempt to pull them down despite not having undone your button and zipper. His air of frustration is not lost on you when you see the slight furrow in his brows, the more he pulls but to no avail of getting you in a state of undress.

Not wanting to lose the momentum you both have, you unhook your arm from his shoulders to give him a helping hand.

“Relax,” you say, softly nudging his hands away from your clothing. He hungrily eyes how you pop the button of your dress pants and shuck them onto the floor. 

Once that was off though, everything came into sharp focus, and Gojo’s breath caught in his throat. 

There’s almost a crazed look in his eye the more he stares at your clothed cunt unblinking, unmoving. His breathing’s gone a bit ragged, and every so often you feel the twitch of his fingers dig into the skin of your thigh.

It was a bad idea, considering how the sight of your panties alone had him this rigid, this excited. But he still grits out a rough, “Lemme see.”

Slowly, you pull your laced underwear to the side and Gojo's teeth dig into his inner cheek at the sight. His hands mark a slow path from your thighs down to your knees, pushing them wide apart so that he could see more of you. 

The delicate spread of your folds had your boss entranced. Gojo has seen and salivated over the various outfits you wore to the workplace, always wondering what was underneath before he deemed such thoughts as inappropriate and immediately started thinking about something else. But now that he sees it for himself, it was all too tantalizing. He wanted to see all of you, taste all of you.

The tuft of snow-white hair that once obscured your vision is now gone, sinking lower to your lap.

“Oh!” you exclaim loudly at his sudden movement. Shocked by how quickly he came down to eye level with your pussy.  “You don’t—” you stammer, swallowing hard as all the blood rushed to your head. Instinctively, you snap your legs shut in a weak attempt to shield yourself from his intense, unwavering gaze. “You don’t have to do that!” 

Having one of Japan’s richest, self-made men drop down to his knees staring fervently at your cunt through you in for a loop. You’re sure by now the expression face was no less than gobsmacked right now.

Gojo’s hand grasps one of your calves, his thumb rubbing smooth circles over your warm skin before he hooks it over his shoulder leaning closer to you. “What do you mean?” 

Pulling you closer to his face, you’re forced to plant your other foot onto the ground for stability. “This!” you hiss out, tone laced with embarrassment and arousal as your finger points between his face and your body. “It’s unbecoming, you don’t have to do that to get me off. Really!”

“Why not?”

You don’t have to say what you’re thinking out loud. You were his assistant for fuck’s sake! 

You’re sure what you two are doing would be an issue with some legal policy with the company. But then again… Gojo Satoru is the founder and CEO of said company so he can technically get away with one or two things. But—

Sensing your hesitancy, Gojo’s eyes soften when he looks up at you. “Just… forget the formalities for a sec, will you?” he implores, strong hands grazing up to your knees again hoping you wouldn’t be stubborn with him this one time. “Please? I want to do this for you.”

You look searchingly into his eyes before you finally mellow out. Feeling you relax in his hold and your thighs lose that tension, that was enough of a green light for Satoru before his mouth skims along the mound of pussy. Each kiss he pressed lovingly against your skin, left you shivering in their wake. 

It wasn’t long before his tongue, firm and slick, pokes out and licks a long, slow stripe up your slit which has you keening. You feel his lips twist into a smug smile when he hears the broken sound of his first name from above him.

“Hm?” he hums, still mouthing at your pussy which encourages another ragged moan from you. “Am I doing good so far?”

You don’t know why he even bothered asking, considering the sheen shine of your arousal coating his mouth and chin. Nonetheless, you give him the answer he patiently waits for.

“Yeah,” you breathe, moaning again when the tip of his tongue circles your sensitive clit. 

And it all becomes too much when his hand abandons supporting your leg on his shoulder, to skate its way up your thigh and toward your pussy. The combination of his forefinger rubbing tight, intricate shapes on your clit and his mouth working you open have you yelping from overstimulation. 

You press your palm against Gojo’s forehead when the heat in your lower belly runs hotter, successfully pushing his face away.

“Not like this,” you protested weakly, your hand smooths down from his face to grip his shoulders. There’s a light flush that peaks beneath the collar of his shirt. He looks absolutely debauched right now. “I want you.”

With the cuff of his sleeve, Gojo wipes your arousal off the bottom half of his face. Unhooking your legs from him, you're left to shakily stand on your own, with nothing but the support of his desk to keep you upright.

“Alright,” he breathes, smiling at how your eyes follow the way his hands undo the expensive black Ferragamo belt on his waist. “How do you want me then?” 

“Um…” You look around the place for feasible places for you to get fucked on. Crude, but true. 

Behind Gojo is his office chair rolled back, looking vacant and lonely. “We could do it on the chair?” you suggest, eyes twinkling at your proposal. “If you want?”

“You want to ride me?” he asks, a proud smirk twitching at the corner of his lips.

Your air of confidence softens into something more breathless and vulnerable which has his heart surging with reckless affection. “Don’t make it weird!” you yelp, giving his shoulder a light shove.

Dragging the chair closer, Gojo chuckles at how quick you are to change moods. “Come,” he says once he has sat down, patting his lap with one hand while the other pulls himself free from his boxers and slacks. “Ride me. Make yourself feel good.”

You don’t know what turns you on more: A) the way he’s speaking so dirty, so obscene with you right now or B) the sight of Satoru’s cock smacking against the pale, creamy space of his exposed lower abdomen. You stare at it for too long, the build-up of saliva gathering in your mouth the more you stare at his thick and hard shaft, occasionally bobbing on its own under your intense glare.

You could die and go to heaven right now.

Gojo’s hands grab your waist and pull you closer to him. Running your tongue along the inside of your cheek, you twist around so that you’re back is now facing him as you prepare to take him all in.

“No, no, no, no,” he rushes out when you’re about to sit down on his lap facing away from him. Within seconds, Gojo has you facing him. He grasps the back of your knee and tugs it to his side, pushing the armrest out of the way and does the same with the other. 

Oh! You didn’t know it could do that. 

“I wanna see you,” he murmurs, once you’re now straddling his lap and hovering mere inches away from his erection. His free hand moves between your bodies and grabs the base of his cock and angles it toward your slit.

“Oh.” You feel giddy. The noticeable brush of his tip stroking along your slick folds only adds to that dizzying sensation. “Yeah, I’m—”

When the head of Gojo’s cock slowly starts to push inside of you, your sentence is cut off by a broken moan emitted from the back of your throat.

With his eyes closed, there’s a lazy smile that spreads across Gojo’s mouth as he breathes out a heavy groan once he’s all the way inside you. “Yeeeah,” he whispers, the pads of his fingertips pushing tight against your bare skin.

You bite your lip and experiment with this position. Lifting your hips slightly before you sink back down, Gojo buries his face into your neck and breathes, ragged and heavy.

So much for wanting to see you.

“Shit,” you hear him hiss, as he blindly gropes at your ass, working your body to continue to slide up and down his hard cock. The heat of you had him seeing stars as searing pleasure tore through him.

Whimpering, you clench onto firm biceps, enjoying the shallow strokes he pushes into you.

It’s incoherent at first. However, when you tumble out a dazed huh? so that you could hear him repeat whatever he had said, Satoru's lips parted in ecstasy. “I forgot,” he choked out, voice raw and unhinged.

Gently tugging him away from your neck, your core tightened at the fucked out expression on his face. Curious eyes trail down to his stomach and how with each pump inside you, his muscles involuntarily spasm.

“The condom,” he states, slowing down his fevered pace. “I forgot…”

If it were anyone else, you would’ve hopped right the fuck off their lap with panic, body tense over the fact of how careless you were being.

But surprisingly there were no alarm bells and no flashing red lights in your mind. If anything your blood ran a little hotter, the need and tightness in your core taking over.

You don’t know you have it in you to completely stop everything in a search for a condom you don’t even know he might have.

“Pull out then,” is all you say before you begin to ride him again.

Gojo can definitely get behind that. He’s not complaining if it meant he got to have you completely raw.

Your pussy swallows his cock, and Satoru gathers up the bottom of his shirt— wrinkling it in the process— so that he could see the way he disappears inside you over and over.

When he shifts his gaze back up again so he can take in the expression you might be wearing, Gojo’s surprised to see you already looking at him.

There’s an adorable tinge to your lips that has Gojo flitting his gaze back to them every damn time he tries to make eye contact with you as he fucks himself sweetly into your pussy.

He’s overcome with the strong urge to kiss you. To cross the small width of space between your mouths.

So, he does.

His brow bumping yours, Gojo’s hands return to your ass and he stands up with you in his embrace. The cold press of his desk accosts you as he uses his weight to push you slowly onto your back. 

“Satoru,” you sigh your boss’s name blissfully once his lips leave yours to press them along the curve of your jaw before pulling away.

“I wanted this to be nicer,” he says, brilliant blue eyes glittering down at you through the sex-soaked shadows. His hips don’t stop pistoning in and out of you, and he exhales a particularly harsh hiss when he feels you squeeze around him. “Nicer than here.”

You drag in a breath at his sentence, its implications not lost on you. He’s thought about this before. “It's okay, there's always another time.” 

Satoru hums appreciatively, seemingly pleased with your answer. After leaning in for one last kiss, he brushed his mouth from yours and announced in a voice you barely recognize, “I’m gonna come.”

Propping yourself onto your elbows, you nod at him. “Pull out then.”

“Are you sure?” 

 Stuck between the incredulous look painted across your features and how your nails press a little tighter into his skin, Gojo listens. Not without hissing out a disgruntled, “Fine.”

Pulling out from your wet pussy, Gojo’s hand wraps around his dick and he strokes it fast and hot. He growls with sharp relief when you reach a hand down to massage his sac. He thinks he may come all over you if you continue doing that.

“Fuck,” he snarls when your fingers graze the base of his cock. 

Cracking his eyes open, he messily knocks your hand away from him before intertwining his fingers with yours and grabbing himself with his free hand, stroking hard and fast. Every so often his tip would intentionally rub up and press against your nub, successfully stimulating the sensitive bundle of nerves with the main goal to climax.

With every pent-up thought he’s had about you, Gojo finally comes with you in tow. His cum dribbles out from his slit and lands on your skin— mostly between your inner thighs and folds.

“So,” Gojo starts, his hands wandering up to the middle of your back after a few moments of comfortable shared silence between you two. As much as he wanted to relax in your post-sex session and bask in its warm glow, he had to address the elephant in the room.

You hum in response as you work the buttons of your blouse, waiting for him to continue. “When you said ‘next time’, did you seriously mean t—” 

The two of you abruptly jump apart at the telltale sound of heels clicking down the hall drawing closer and closer to Gojo’s office door. In a panic, you leap off his desk, sending a flurry of sheets flying down to the floor into a sorry pile. 

“Nice going,” Gojo remarks with a sly grin, as you hurriedly shimmy your pants up your legs. The sheen layer of sweat— among other things— makes it a bit difficult for you to easily slip them on.

Once they’re settled at your hips and you tend to the zip, you cast a withering glare his way, you’re relieved to see that he’s already tucked himself away into his pants, already looking presentable by the time the door opens.

With the click of the lock giving way, you hear a woman starkly ask, “Why are all the lights off?”

You could pinpoint that voice from a kilometre away. 

Turning on your heel, you see the shadowy figure of one of your closest colleagues in the dark of the room. “Utahime!”

When the head director steps into the room and flicks on the lights, the sudden brightness has you squinting your eyes a bit. Upon catching your gaze she offers you a sincere smile, visibly lighting up at the sight of you.  

But it doesn’t last long because seconds after her smile morphs into a displeased scowl when she spots Gojo lounging boneless in his office chair a few feet away.

“And why’s it so…” Utahime fans a delicate hand in front of her face, casting a weary gaze at you two from across the room. “Warm in here?” she questions no one in particular.

Her eyes take in the setting before her, and she pauses in her tracks. You could only imagine what thoughts were racing through her mind.

“What hap—”

“—It’s warm?! I couldn’t even tell!” you respond, a bit too chipper as you cut her line of questioning off. A bit too fast. 

From behind you, you hear Gojo’s stifled laughter that’s covered by poorly by a ridiculous attempt at a coughing fit.

“Well,” you wring your hands together subconsciously, “what brings you here?”

Noticing your off demeanour, Utahime fixes you with a puzzled look that reads as if she were asking you "are you okay?" as your plastered smile only grows more strained by the second.

“I came here to grab your reports and documentation from Gojo’s outbox, but somebody,” cue Satoru slipping on his signature shades to deflect the icy stare Utahime was housing, “forgot to put them there. Hence why I’m here.”

“Oh, right!” Gojo hums, rolling back from his desk as he reaches down to gather the scattered sheets that had fallen to the floor. “They’re all here.”

You both watch in shared silence as he flips through each page, meticulously setting each one aside that wasn’t labeled with your name on the header. 

Thrown off by how long he’s deliberately taking in smoothing out the crinkles on each page, the older woman stomps up to Gojo and unceremoniously slaps her hand on the wooden table. “Give me that, will you?!” she exclaims, snatching and wrestling the papers out from his hands.

“Ah! Wait—”

Scanning the pages your department leader seems content that everything’s in order.

Until it's not?

The woman’s once sunny and bright disposition suddenly flips on his head, as there seems to be something written on that page midway that makes her freeze.

“Go ahead and hand me a new copy,” Utahime says, practically tossing the sheets of paper back onto his desk without a second glance. She smooths her hands down the silky expanse of her long skirt, once, twice, then three times for good measure. “I want it in my inbox by next Monday.”

She nods curtly at you before she turns and practically books it to his door. You don’t know why but you swear you saw the faintest hue of pink tickling the apples of her cheeks. There was also an expression that couldn’t quite put your finger on that highlighted her features. 

If you were to say though, her emotion looked between the mix of detachment, embarrassment… wait, no. It was mortification.

But what was there to be mortified over?  

“What’s wrong with the copy you gave her?”

Gojo presses his lips together in a sad attempt to keep his smile at bay as he hands it over to you to see for yourself.

Eyebrows furrowed, you skim each sheet. You don’t get it. What’s the problem with—

That’s until you notice that some of the pages are sticking together. It’s on the third page you see it and understand why Utahime was in such a rush to leave. Why she kept wiping her hands onto her clothing.

Right there among the printed hiragana and kanji was a few small white streaks of fluid covering bolded characters and numbers. 

Oh no.

“Y’know…” The sleeve of his dress shirt rests along your neck as his hand squeezes at your shoulder. Delicate fingers slide against your bare skin and pull at the strap of your bra, successfully tucking it underneath your blouse again. Had that been poking out the entire time?!  “I knew it would’ve been a good idea to finish inside.”

Horrified that you’d have to deal with the information of going back to Utahime next week knowing that she knows what you guys did, has you burying your face into Gojo’s chest and letting out a muffled scream.

“Just saying!”

FIN

i don't know how to stay within the maximum word count for the life of me... i'm not sorry!

[to-dance-beneath-the-diamond-sky]

love when you tell a person on tumblr dot com you’re done engaging in a repetitive back and forth conversation that’s going nowhere with them and yet they continue on trying to win and argue you into admitting they’re right. Like okay guess I’ll just be using the block button then lmao

[pettygods]

god i cannot WAIT to move out of an apartment complex and into a house…. one day

[exopelagic]

fuck R <3