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celestie0 · 1 year ago

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gojo satoru x reader | college au [18+]

kickoff ch.5 these feelings are hard to find

ᰔ pairing. college au - soccer player! gojo x film major! reader

ᰔ summary. gojo satoru is the most popular guy on your college campus. he's tall, funny, hot, not to mention he's the most talented soccer forward the school has seen in years. but he's also a frat dude, which puts him in a world very different from your own, as he spends most of his nights partying & drinking while you spend most of yours working on your annoying film major assignments. but when he reaches out to you for a favor, you realize that helping him out might have something in it for you too.

ᰔ warnings/tags. 18+, fem reader, fluff, angst, smut, college au, fraternities, sororities, partying, drinking/alcohol, mentions of weed, romance, jealousy, pining, slow burn, opposites to lovers, friends to lovers, she falls first he falls harder, gojo being an idiot

ᰔ chapter. 5/x (probably 12)

ᰔ words. 10.4k

a/n. aaaa this chapter took me a while because i was having some pretty bad writer's block. i seriously can't believe it crossed over 10k words, i very poorly planned how much i wanted to get done by this chapter, but i didn't feel like splitting it into two so oh wellll. hope you enjoy! pls excuse any typos we all live on a floating rock.

nav. masterlist

☾·̩͙꙳ moodboard no.1

♬.*ﾟplaylist

“I really don’t understand why I’m here…” you’re grumbling as you, Mina and Todo make your way up the pavement of the driveway leading to the house party. You glance to your right where Mina and Todo are holding hands, arms swinging as they keep pace together.

It was finally Friday after a particularly long and stressful week, so you were extremely excited to just spend the rest of the night relaxing at home. You had already poured yourself a glass of wine when you returned from your evening class and were sitting on the couch with a blanket on, scrolling through Netflix, when Mina approached you while she was talking to Todo on the phone. She mentioned something about an SAE party tonight that she wanted you to come along for and Todo said he’d extend his other invite to you. When you politely declined, Mina slumped down on the couch and told Todo she had no interest in going unless you also came. And then Todo was bribing you with a hundred bucks. Easiest hundred bucks you’ve ever made.

“Don’t be a downer. You’re here because I think you’ve been working hard and you need to relax a bit,” Mina chirps, now clinging onto Todo’s arm, “and there’s no better way to relax than getting drunk.”

“I could be getting drunk at home,” you mumble to yourself, the night you were imagining for yourself all day being very different from where you find yourself now.

The guy that was bouncing for tonight’s party was scanning people’s phones and engaging in some small talk before allowing people inside. He was pretty handsome and you wondered if there was some sort of requirement written in the rules to the SAE fraternity that they must be good-looking to join.

“Hello, my brother,” Todo says as he approaches, smacking him so hard on the back in greeting that the man stumbles over slightly and sends an irritated glare Todo’s way before he regains his balance.

“Hey, big guy, are these your invites?” He gestures towards you and Mina, his eyes landing on yours and lingering for a moment. You blink at him.

“Yes, this here’s my lovely lady, and this here’s my lovely lady’s friend,” Todo says with a faux suave that only makes you narrow your eyes at him. The man at the entrance sighs and nods before stepping out of the way and motioning the three of you towards the entrance.

The minute you enter, you immediately realize that this party felt very different from the one you were at last week. It was slightly less crowded, but there were still plenty of people bustling around the large expanse of the ground floor with loud rap music that practically shook the walls. It was dark, much more edgy, with the only source of light being the sporadic flashing of lights over by the DJ’s booth. You felt disoriented from the atmosphere, and the smell of weed and alcohol only further dazed you.

“This is insane,” you barely hear Mina say beside you over the music as she looks around the expansive interior of the house. In between the brief flickering lights that lit up people’s faces, you register that Todo is grinning at her as though he was entirely satisfied by her reaction.

You only make it a few steps inside, trailing behind Mina and Todo, before feeling the need to excuse yourself to get away from the intense environment for a second. “Hey, I think I’m going to use the restroom real quick. Todo, do you have any idea where it is?” You feel like you’re shouting just to be heard.

He looks over his shoulder at you. “There are some downstairs but they probably have lines. You could try upstairs.”

You give him an appreciative nod and head over to the base of the staircase at the right, glancing up before making your ascent. There didn’t seem to be anyone else upstairs, which surprised you, but you figured you were just in luck and began to walk up step by step until reaching the top. The music downstairs begins to sound muffled as you turn around the railing post and make your way to the left into the narrow hallway likely leading towards the bedrooms. There's a white door somewhere in the middle of the hallway that could only be either a closet or a bathroom. You wrap your hand around the cold metal door handle and twist, satisfied that it wasn’t locked.

The mumbling noises of people inside doesn’t register in your mind until you’ve already cracked the door open half-way, and your entire body recoils in the immediate rush of embarrassment washing over you as you take in the sight of two people, a man and a woman, getting handsy with one another in the bathroom.

“Oh god, I’m so sorry,” is all you manage to squeak out, blinking dumbly at the scene.

You’re quick to avert your gaze and about to close the door, incredibly mortified by what’s just happened, when the familiar silhouette in front of you causes you to freeze. You slowly lift your line of sight from the bathroom floor until Gojo Satoru is looking you straight in the eye from where he has a girl on the bathroom counter clinging to his shirt.

“I…” you stutter, face feeling immediately hot as you let go of the door handle and look away from his shocked face. “Sorry,” you say again, this time barely above a whisper, before turning on your heel and making your way down the hallway in such a hurry that you don’t even realize you’re going the wrong way. You hear a feminine voice echo something in the bathroom like what the fuck are you doing?, and then there’s footsteps following after you that sound faster than your own. Ignoring the call of your name, you practically storm into one of the bedrooms, entirely relieved that it was empty, and can only take a couple of steps inside before a hand grabs at your wrist. A chill runs down your spine from the contact.

“Wait, y/n,” Gojo says behind you from where he’s followed you inside, sounding like he’s out of breath. His hand is still holding onto you, keeping you still and you can feel the roughness of his calluses against your skin. When you turn around to face him, he’s close to you and you see his chest is heaving, his hair is disheveled, his shirt is wrinkled at the front and there’s a crease in his brow.

Your eyes don’t stay on his for long before you’re looking away from him again. “I’m…I’m really sorry, that was really awkward,” you say with a forced laugh and an attempt to wiggle yourself free of his grip but he’s unrelenting. The image of his fingers sliding up that girl’s top was still burned in your vision and no amount of excessive blinking at the carpet beneath your feet seemed to make it disappear.

“No, I’m sorry, I was supposed to lock…” his trails off and you notice there’s a rough quality to his voice, “that was just-, we were just-”

You finally brave yourself to look up at him and he somehow seems closer than before, his face just inches away from yours and his eyes briefly flickering to your lips before he meets your gaze with a tense expression on his face. You haven’t seen him look so flustered before, and you’ve certainly never heard him struggle this much to find his words either.

His other hand rubs the back of his neck as he closes his eyes in what looks like frustration, then takes a deep breath to seemingly calm himself down before speaking again. “She’s…We’re just friends,” is all he manages to say.

There’s a silence between the two of you as you blink at him and he stares at you, his thumb pressing into the skin of where his hand was still wrapped around your wrist. You try really hard to bite back the words you’re about to say, but no amount of willpower could’ve helped you. Your chin tips up, looking at him more decisively, and his gaze is flickering to your mouth again. “Just friends…can’t say I’ve ever tried to get my friends naked in the bathroom at a party before.” You didn’t understand why your tone came off so hostile, but it felt good to criticize his choice of words for some reason.

His lips press together, gaze narrowing slightly and eyebrows furrowing further at your words. He leans in closer to the point where your senses were entirely occupied by him and it was impossible to think of anything else. “Well, you weren’t supposed to see that.” His eyes are contrite but his tone is vexed.

You relax your body language and use your other hand to forcefully slide his hand off of your wrist, encountering some resistance from him before he acquiesces. Your skin tingles from the absence of his touch and you take a step backwards away from him. His posture straightens slightly, eyes continuing to dart across the features of your face and wide in anticipation as though he was patiently waiting for you to say something that would put him at ease.

“It’s fine,” you say, trying your best to keep your voice as level as possible, “I accidentally walked in on something I shouldn’t have. You don’t owe me any sort of explanation for it.” Gojo seems to tense up even further at your words, his expression briefly contorting into one of confusion before it reverts to concern again.

You walk around him towards the bedroom door and see him in your periphery watching every step you take until you eventually exit the room. This time, you don’t hear his footsteps pursuing you from behind. It’s only when you make it past the bathroom, not even daring to take a look inside of it, and about halfway down the hallway that you unsteadily let out the breath you were holding in. Your hand takes its place over your chest in a flimsy attempt to calm your heart down as you quickly make your way down the stairs. There was a sinking feeling in your stomach and you knew you just had to get as far away from here as possible.

You’re barely able to spot Mina from where she stood with Todo in a corner near the backyard screen door, and briefly notice that Nanami, Geto, as well as a few of their other teammates were clustered there too. You politely acknowledge their pleasant greetings to you as you approach Mina, pulling her to the side.

“Woah, hey, what’s going on?” She asks, stumbling a little bit and you let go of her sleeve.

“I’m going to go home, not feeling well, I think I just got my period,” you easily come up with a lie, “Nobara says she’ll pick me up.” In truth, you were planning on just calling an Uber for home, but you knew that Mina wouldn’t let you go home by yourself. You didn’t want your confusing and heightened emotions ruining her night.

“Wait, are you sure? I’ll come with you,” she’s quick to say, taking a step towards you but you shake your head.

“No, it’s fine, stay here with Todo,” you demand, “and call me if you need me to pick you up. I’ll let you know when I’m home.” You give her a little hug and she’s standing there confused before hesitantly nodding, and then you make your way to the door. The loud music, flashing lights, and blurred faces around you were so intensely stimulating that when the cold air from outside finally hit your skin, you felt like you were human again.

The Uber comes by in less than ten minutes as you wait for it on the sidewalk. The driver drops you off at the entrance of your apartment complex and the biting chill of the air has you wrapping your arms around yourself as you wait for the elevator to take you upstairs. Glancing down at your phone to check the time, you see a message from Mina asking if you were home yet. You also see that it’s nearly one in the morning.

Finally making your way inside your apartment, you lock the door behind you and text Mina that you’re home, then slide down with your back against the front door until you’re sitting on the floor. The heat inside was so comforting that you just spent a moment to warm yourself up and just breathe.

Memories of your conversation with Gojo from just half an hour ago instantly come to the forefront of your mind and you’re shutting your eyes to try and repel the thoughts away. Still so embarrassed that you walked in on him making out with someone, your brain decides to mortify you even further by asking what if you had walked in a few moments later instead? What would you have seen then?

You squish your cheeks between your hands defeatedly before letting out a sigh and drawing your legs in towards you, hugging your knees to your chest. You didn’t understand why you were so affected by what you saw. You’ve only met Gojo twice, and you knew even before you met him that he was that kind of person. He had a reputation of being involved with a lot of women, so his rather eager desire to explain himself to you just puzzled you even further.

Standing up, you head over to your bed and flop down on it. Your wrist still burns with the memory of the heat of his hand, and all you can see behind the lids of your eyes when you close them is the sight of him so close to you, stealing glances at your lips.

Somewhere along the night as you drifted in and out of sleep, Mina called to let you know that she was on her way home. When you hear her open the bedroom door and set her purse down on the nightstand near her bed, your body finally convinces you that it’s okay to rest, and that’s exactly what you do.

---

The weekend is over in the blink of an eye, simply not enough time to mope around in bed, and you’re walking out of your last class of the day on Monday. You check your phone pretty much every other minute to see if Gojo has sent you any messages regarding their new practice schedule for the week, which you’re sure he’s received by now, but there’s nothing. The last messages sent between the two of you were before the party on Friday, and an uneasy feeling has been settling in. You spent most of last week appreciating how helpful he was being so far, but you didn’t even consider the possibility that he could rescind his help at any time too.

You head over to the Department of Communication & Journalism building, making your way up the stairs until you reach the graduate division floor and walk down the hallway to Room 212. As you make your entry, a toasty and rich scent overtakes your senses.

“Ah, y/n, hello! So good to see you, thanks for coming by. I missed seeing you last week,” you hear Utahime say as she sets down a cup of coffee for you on the conference table in the middle of the room.

“Sorry, I was just…very mentally occupied last week,” you admit to her, setting your tote bag down on one of the chairs before taking the seat where the cup of coffee was placed, the fragrance instantly waking you up as you take a sip. “Thank you. How have you been?”

“I’ve been well, thank you, just working through my thesis,” she says with a sigh and takes the seat next to you. “Just a few more months…just a few more months, and I’m free!”

You smile at her and watch as she pulls out her laptop, the start-up noise chiming before she starts clicking away at the million tabs that were open. “Did you receive the email I sent you for the newsletter shots?” You ask.

Utahime was a 4th-year graduate student in journalism and was also the head of the school’s newsletter. She has so graciously allowed for Film Club photography shout-outs in every monthly issue for the past couple of years.

She nods. “I did,” she says, resting her elbow on the table and tapping her index finger to her chin, “how come I didn’t see any of your photos in there, though?”

You sigh, sulking your shoulders slightly as you peer down into the brown liquid of your cup and watch the steam evaporate. “I didn’t really take great pictures this month.”

“Aw, well are you working on anything right now?” She returns to clicking away at tabs.

“Yeah, I’ll be taking film photos out on the field of the soccer team’s game against Osaka Uni next week. It’s for an assignment,” you tell her and watch as her face lights up.

“That’s wonderful! That’s a pretty big gig, they usually only let professionals out on the field. How were you able to secure that?” Utahime asks you as she tips her head to the side.

“Ah…let’s just say I have some sort of deal with one of their players?” You say. Your heart drops a little when you remember the lack of communication from Gojo as of recently, wondering if he was able to get that referee permission for you.

“Which one?” Utahime asks with a teasing smile, leaning over to nudge you with her elbow.

“Gojo Satoru,” you say and then she’s pulling away from you and rolling her eyes, an annoyed look making its way onto her face. You let out a small laugh at her behavior. “Okay, well now I’m curious.”

She lets out an exasperated sigh as she peers beyond the window of the room. “I was his TA when he was just a wee-little freshman. He was always showing up late to class and trying to flirt his way out of completing assignments,” she grumbles, “is he still a little brat?”

You worry your bottom lip between your teeth, thinking way harder about her question than she had probably intended. “I don’t know…I don’t really know him all that well.” You look down at your hands. Despite the fact that you’ve only known Gojo for a short while, for some reason you felt like you did know him well. You knew the kinds of things that made him smile, you knew the look in his eyes when he was deep in thought about something. You knew what the heat from his body felt like, what the fragrance of his clothes smelled like.

Utahime is silent for a moment as she studies you. “Hmm,” she’s humming next to you, “well, tell you what, send me your photos when you’re done with them. If they’re good, I’ll use your photos for the sports recap in the newsletter instead of the professional ones we get sent from the school. I can compensate you for them as well.”

Your eyes widen as you look at her, jaw dropping a bit as you blink in disbelief. “Utahime…you would do that for me?”

She gives you a smile and a wink. “Of course, talent helps talent. And it’s my newsletter, I can do whatever I want with it. Besides, you want to get into the school’s film graduate program, right? I’m sure it would look great on your application that you’ve had some of your portfolio published to the school’s official reports. The photos have to be good, though.” She points a finger at you and gives you a strict look.

You feel tears prickle in your eyes from her words, so overwhelmingly grateful for her support, and can barely whisper out a thank you before she’s rushing over to the other table to grab a tissue box and set it in front of you.

“Gosh, why do all my undergrads cry in my presence?” she complains as she pulls out a tissue and hands it to you.

You dab it to your eye. “Because you have such wholesome mom energy.”

You say goodbye to Utahime after discussing a few more things and then leave the room. You check your phone and your heart skips a beat when you see Gojo’s name in your notifications.

|| 1:43PM Gojo Satoru: Hey, just wanted to let you know I was able to get that referee permission for you for next week

You let out a tiny gasp when you read his words then clutch your phone to your chest in relief. Utahime’s offer of the prospect of getting published in the school’s newsletter gave you a large sense of purpose, and you felt like it was time to take this assignment of yours extremely seriously to secure the opportunity. And Gojo was the one with the power to help you do that.

|| 1:52PM You: thank you so much, i really don’t know how to repay you

You sigh as you make your way to the stairs, grateful that you were getting some communication from him. The big game on the 28th was next Thursday, and you really needed to practice taking photos with your film camera. You open Instagram again to ask him for his practice schedule, but you see that he had sent you another message.

|| 1:54PM Gojo Satoru: No need to repay me, consider us even. Also sorry for the late notice, but we’re having a formal practice match in about an hour with one of the teams we played against earlier in the season. Do you want to come by?

After reading his message, you quickly shuffle your tote bag open and peer inside to see that you did indeed bring your film camera with you to campus today. Excited, you type out a response.

|| 1:55PM You: yes! i’ll hesd over right now

|| 1:55PM You: *head over

|| 1:55PM You: lol

You see little bubbles indicating typing in the left side corner.

|| 1:55PM Gojo Satoru: Meet me by the art sculpture, I’ll walk you over

You blink at the message for a few seconds, starting to type out a message before deleting it, and doing that a couple more times over. When someone tries to shuffle around you from behind, you notice you were standing awkwardly at the top of the stairs so you step away and lean against the wall. You press your lips together in consideration as you realize that today would be the first time you’re going to see Gojo again after that awkward interaction that you had with him at the party last Friday, and you were really not sure how you were going to feel having to be alone with him again.

|| 1:57PM You: that’s okay, i don’t want to trouble you

His response is instant.

|| 1:57PM Gojo Satoru: Just meet me there

Once you’ve made your way across campus, you spot Gojo sitting on the concrete barrier surrounding the art sculpture by the fields practically right in front of the please do not sit on the concrete barrier sign. His head is turned away from the direction you were approaching from, arms crossed at his chest and one of his legs impatiently bouncing up and down. You notice he’s wearing the school’s colors, a teal blue shirt and gray shorts that had some highlights of a sunset yellow, as well as gray athletic soccer shin socks and cleats. He looks so ridiculously sports boyfriend that you have to shake your head to try and physically fight the effect of how attracted you were to him.

He must’ve heard you approaching as you crossed the street towards him since he turned his head in your direction. He’s wearing a black sports headband across his forehead that’s pushing the hair up out of his face and you’re startled by the intensity of his blue eyes on you. When he stands up, his arms fall to his side, making you sad that you could no longer shamelessly stare at the way his biceps flexed when he had his arms crossed.

“Hey,” he says simply, staying perfectly still where he stood.

There was only one way to dissolve an awkward situation, and that was to pretend like it never happened in the first place. You tip your head to the side, giving him a curious look before skipping right on up to him. “Hello, there,” you cheerfully say. He looks at you with a borderline annoyed expression.

“You’re in a good mood today,” he comments, his voice sounding deeper than usual. Almost tired.

“Yes, very good mood,” you chirp as you walk past him, “I just got a very good offer.”

The sound of the bottom of his cleats on the sidewalk follow after you as you head in the direction of the softball batting cages. It's not long before he emerges at your side in your periphery. “What kind of offer?” You can tell from his tone that he was trying to restrain his curiosity.

“Oh, you’ll see,” you say as you look up at him and smile. He gives you an irritated expression due to your lack of transparency but you continue to skip forward until you’ve made it to stairs that lead up to the grassy hills.

Gojo’s about a step’s distance behind you as you lightly frolic across the land, your heavy tote bag bumping against your hip with every jump. You feel something fly out of it which halts you in your gleeful stride and look behind to where your bluetooth laptop mouse has fallen onto the grass right in front of Gojo. He’s sighing before crouching down to pick it up, then takes a step towards you and extends it out to you. When you glance up at him, he’s not looking at you and his face is hard to read.

You grab the mouse from him, fingertips brushing against the skin of his palm, and he ever-so-slightly shivers at the touch. His gaze finally meets yours.

With a sigh, you toss your computer mouse back into your bag. “I’m trying really hard to not feel awkward around you right now, but you’re making it pretty difficult.” You were so used to feeling like he has the upper edge of conversation when you’re with him, but now you felt like you were the one with the power.

He raises an eyebrow at you and when you look at his hands, you notice he was apprehensively cracking his knuckles with his thumbs. “Maybe you wouldn’t feel awkward if you actually stayed to talk last Friday.”

You cross your arms across your chest, disliking his tone. “Stayed to talk? About what? How not close you are with your ‘friends’?”

He tips his head up to the sky and closes his eyes, his brow furrowing like he was entirely frustrated by you, before he looks back down at you again. “If you don’t want to believe me, that’s fine, but what’s with you always running away whenever I try to talk to you?”

“I wasn’t feeling well that night,” you mumble to him as you turn away and continue to walk towards the practice field. It was the truth, you weren’t feeling well that night, and it was because seeing him kissing another girl made your stomach drop to the core of the Earth. But that wasn’t something you were going to admit to him. It wasn’t even something you were ready to admit to yourself. “Also, it’s not that I don’t believe you, it’s that I don’t care to believe you.”

“But why don’t you care?” he’s asking you, his voice sounding desperate now as he makes his way to your side again. He’s looking at you but you’re looking straight ahead.

You roll your eyes, continuing to march forwards. “Not everyone cares about your love life, Satoru. Contrary to what you might think.”

He jogs ahead a few steps, now walking backwards in front of you and you narrow your eyes at him. His tongue is poking at the inside of his cheek and then there’s a boyish grin on his face. “Say that again.”

“Say what again?” you ask.

“My name,” he says.

You almost roll your eyes out of your head when you see his amused expression. “I seriously can’t believe this right now,” you’re muttering under your breath and walk past him down the large hill leading to the practice field, his gaze on you burning through your skin until you’re rubbing at your cheek with the back of your hand in a feeble attempt to physically wipe the blush away.

The practice field was much more crowded and busy than it was during the first practice you went to last week. Looking across to the other side, you see a group of men huddled near one of the benches, all of them wearing maroon-colored shirts with black shorts that have gold stripes running down the side of them. None of them were wearing jerseys, but you assumed they were wearing their school colors as some sort of distinguishing clothing that would help them during the practice match.

“Satoru! Where the hell have you been?” You flinch upon hearing Coach Yaga’s stern voice nearby and you look over to where he had his arms crossed and glaring at Gojo through his thick sunglasses.

Gojo walks past you towards the benches and gives Coach Yaga a salute. “Sorry, sir, personal business.” He then makes his way over to the rest of his teammates that were huddled on this side of the field. There were a few tables located on the sidelines that had refillable water stations, bottles of Gatorade, towels and all sorts of other athletic gear. You walk up to one of the tables and fix the settings on your film camera before taking a snapshot of the items laid out on it.

The atmosphere is light since this wasn’t an official match and so you spend some time fidgeting with your camera before they get started. You can only imagine how tense it must be during a proper tournament game at the actual stadium off-campus, the thought of thousands of people spectating from stands sending a shiver down your spine. Athletes were of a whole different breed, despite how wholesome and down-to-earth most of the UTokyo soccer players you’ve met so far were.

Eventually, Coach Yaga and the other coach from the opposing school blow their whistles, both acting as referees for the match, and the players scatter themselves across the field. You notice Gojo is at the center of the circle in the middle, his foot on top of the ball as he scans his eyes across the field to each of the players with a focused look in his eyes. He draws his foot back, and just when you think he’s about to kick it forwards to where he was looking, the back of his heel makes contact with the ball instead and it’s sent swiftly behind him towards Geto. Instantly, all the players begin to move across the field, some of the offensive opposing side charging towards Geto as he shuffles the ball between his feet before kicking it way ahead of him to another one of their teammates. You bring your camera up to your face and take a snapshot when one of the opposing team’s defenders makes an attempt to steal the ball.

The play continues further, both teams playing a push-and-pull with the ball. Gojo makes an attempt at a goal before the opposing team’s goalie lunges for the ball that was flying in the air straight towards the net, catching it in his arms and then crashing down onto the ground. Somewhere along the intense match, the coaches call half-time and you’re shocked by how fast the first half went by.

Some of the players retreat to the benches to quench their thirst and wipe the perspiration off their faces with their towels, while others remain on the green expanse to pace around while catching their breath. Your attention is drawn to Gojo who stood at the center with his hands on his hips and breathing visibly heavily. He leisurely shuffles the ball between his feet with an innate rhythm before passing it off towards Geto who stood a few feet away from him. Gojo pulled his headband off of his face, his hair falling over his forehead onto the sheen layer of sweat above his eyes. With each breath, his chest rises and falls, lips parted in a display of exertion, and then he grabs at the hem of his shirt to lift it to his face, exposing his toned torso, as he wipes away the sweat at his temples. Your eyes widen at the sight, almost entranced as a wave of arousal suddenly consumes you, before he releases his grip on the fabric and it falls back down. He pushes his hair back up out of his face with one of his hands, the other securing the headband back onto his forehead with a snap, and the muscles of his arms tense fluidly with every motion.

You quickly look away from him, afraid he'll catch you staring, and blink at the grass as you notice the fast beating of your heart. Coach Yaga's whistle blows, causing you to look back up again. Players were making their way back onto the field and Gojo found his position at the center again. His eyes darted across the field, making their way onto the faces of each player, and then they eventually landed on you. There’s a glimmer in his eyes, the corner of his mouth twitching upwards slightly into a small smile before he's looking back down at the ball by his feet. And then they start the kickoff.

UTokyo ends up winning 3-1, and by the end of the match the sun is starting to set, painting the sky beautiful hues of purple and orange. You lean over to pick your things up off the grass as the players make their final retreat to the benches, and you gently place your film camera back into its case when Gojo’s voice next to you makes you jump.

“Hey. Please don’t run off,” he says. When you turned to look at him, he was still breathing a bit fast and he had a flushed, almost serene, look across his face. “Give me your phone.” He extends his open palm out to you.

“My phone?” You ask him, reaching for where it was located in your back pocket and pulling it out. He nods without any further explanation. You place it in his palm and he’s tapping away at it before handing it back to you. When you look down, you notice he gave a random number a call.

“That’s my number. Save it,” he says. You blink at him. His expression is soft for a moment and then he’s turning around and away from you, heading over to where his teammates were crowded around one of the tables and giving each other pats on the back.

You tip your head to the side to watch him as a couple of his teammates sling their arm around his neck and smack his chest, masculine laughter and jokes filling the air. You can’t help but smile before you pick up your things and start making your way up the hill away from the field, back towards the heart of campus.

---

The following days of the week where you don’t see Gojo play soccer seems like a waste, because why weren’t you spending every single day of your life watching him play soccer? You sigh to yourself at the question as you use clothing pins to hang up the film photos you took up onto a wall in your school’s photo lab. You finished developing the photos from Monday’s practice match, only to realize that you accidentally took them on one of your black-and-white rolls instead of full-color. You step back to take a look at all the images you had clipped onto the string pinned to the walls, snapping a shot of the collage with your phone, before pulling them all back down and stuffing them into a Manila folder.

The only time the photo lab wasn’t bustling with other film & photography majors was usually after sunset, but by the time you finished having dinner with one of your friends on campus, you had made it there around 7PM. By the time you leave and make it to your parked car, it’s pitch black outside. As you step inside your car and turn the key to ignite the engine, the windshield wipers automatically swiping as the control lights inside come to life, the clock on your dashboard reads 10:37PM.

The GPS for some reason prompts you to take an alternative route back to your apartment that avoids the freeway in an attempt to save you from twenty minutes of traffic, and you consider what to do for a moment before the exhaustion in your bones convinces you to take the allegedly faster way home.

As you begin to head in the unfamiliar direction, the excitement you had to make it home as soon as possible slowly starts to dwindle more and more as the streets morph from well-lit and bustling with people to dark and surrounded by trees instead. What used to be a three-lane street turned into one, and you count the seconds between every passing car you see coming by in the opposite direction. You’re worried when your counting makes it past sixty seconds.

You turn your music up in your car to distract yourself from the fear of driving down the secluded and dark road. There was a slight fog settling up ahead in front of you to where you could only see clearly about thirty feet ahead. You spot something on the road, blinking rapidly to focus your vision, and then your eyes widen when you realize what it was. Rocks.

You’re instantly swerving your car to the side, attempting to deftly avoid the scattered rocks but unfortunately you drive over a few of them, causing your tire to pop and you let out a scream when you lose handle on your car. One of the rocks flies up and hits your windshield, cracking the glass, and suddenly you’re driving up over the curb to the right before you finally regain control of your car and swerve back onto the road, slamming on the brakes.

Your heart is beating fast in your chest, adrenaline rushing through your body, and you grip onto the steering wheel while you try to regain your breath. Your windshield had a large crack in it, large enough to where the cold air from outside was whistling its way inside your car, and you were slanted in your seat due to the punctured tire at the front. As you took deep breaths, you noticed how alone you were on a dimly lit street where you hadn’t seen a single car in more than five minutes, fear and anxiety surging through your body. Your hands reach for your phone, shakily turning it on and exhaling in relief when you see that you have reception, then call the emergency telephone line.

“Hello, how can we help you?” a feminine voice on the other end of the line says.

“Hi, um,” you say, voice sounding shaky, “I just got a flat tire on Musashi road, about five miles from the Main Street intersection. I don’t have a spare on me, and my windshield is cracked too…could you send roadside assistance?”

“Yes, absolutely,” the woman says kindly and begins to take down some information from you. “Thank you, ma’am. Unfortunately, there has been a big accident on the freeway, so many of the tow-trucks and officers have been dispatched to that area. It may take about an hour for help to arrive. Are you able to call someone to come stay with you as you wait?”

“Oh…” You press your lips together in thought. “Yes, I should be able to.” After working out a bit more logistics with the woman on the other line, you hang up and then you’re scrolling through your contacts. You first call Mina’s line, which goes straight to voicemail, and then you remember that she was out of town for tonight and half of tomorrow visiting her family. You call Nobara, who also doesn’t pick up, and then a couple of your other friends who go straight to voicemail as well. You start to panic slightly before calling your friend Maki who lives two hours away.

“Hello?” You hear her voice say when she picks up.

“Maki! Oh my gosh, thank you for picking up,” you say to her through the phone, your hand on your chest as you sigh. You explain your situation to her and she’s instantly providing you with soothing words.

“Is there no one that can come stay with you? I feel awful that I’m so far away,” she says.

“It’s okay, they said that help will be here in maybe fifty minutes now…I just really wanted to talk to someone,” you say, peering out into the darkness of the night. You’re still shocked you haven’t seen a single car drive by in the past ten minutes. You pull your phone from your face to check the time and see a notification on your phone that says 5% battery remaining. “Oh, shit.”

“What?” Maki asks worriedly.

“My phone is running out of battery…” you say with a defeated tone. Your anxiety starts to rise in your chest again. “I don’t know if I can stay on the line.” You scroll through your contacts again, finger halting the screen when your eyes land on another name. “I…I think I have someone else I can try calling.”

“Good, try that. I don’t want you to be stuck out there with a dead phone and a flat tire. Let me know if this person doesn’t pick up, okay?” She’s saying to you and you send her your location before hanging up.

You’re breathing heavily from fear when a particularly harsh gust of wind pushes more cold air through the crack of your windshield. Pulling your phone from your face, you click on the name in your contacts and bring your phone to your ear. It rings once, twice, almost a third time before you hear a click and then a voice.

“Y/n?” Gojo’s voice calls out, sounding surprised.

Hearing his voice immediately causes a wave of relief to wash over you and you lay back in your seat, having to muffle the abrupt sob that threatens to erupt from the tightness in your throat. “Hi,” you whisper.

“Hey, is everything okay?” he asks.

“Mm…no,” you admit to him, sniffling slightly and swiping at the stray tear that rolls down your cheek with the sleeve of your shirt. “I’m just a bit scared right now.” Your voice cracks towards the end of your sentence and you silently berate yourself for not mustering enough emotional strength at the moment.

“Tell me what’s wrong,” he says, his voice starting to sound uneasy.

“I was driving down this road, it was dark, I couldn’t really see much…but I ended up driving over these rocks and my tire punctured. I called for roadside assistance and they said it would take about an hour for help to arrive,” you ramble, “I tried calling Mina, and some of my other friends to come and wait with me, but-” You run out of breath to finish your sentence and you’re sniffling again.

“Send me your location, I’m heading over right now,” he says and you hear what sounds like keys jingling in the background along with some other shuffling noises, “can you stay on the line?”

You pull your phone from your ear and see that you’re at 3% now before sending him your location. “No…my phone is running out of battery.”

He’s silent for a second on the other end. “It says I’ll be there in twelve minutes. Just…hang tight, okay? Make sure your doors are locked.”

You nod before remembering that he can’t see you, so you say I will. He’s hesitant to hang up on you but when your phone flashes from 3% to 2%, you tell him you don’t have much of a choice and then he’s giving you another word of caution before reluctantly hanging up. You’re all alone to your thoughts in your car again, shaking from the anxiety and blinking tears away.

The twelve-minute wait felt so long, and eventually Gojo texts you that he’s one minute away when your phone is at 1% battery. You see headlights approaching behind your car in your rearview mirror, the first sight of another human being you’ve seen in probably the past thirty minutes stepping out of the driver’s seat and you immediately recognize his silhouette. He walks up to the passenger side door and tips his head down so he’s visible through the window. At the sight of him, you finally release the breath you were holding in before opening your car door and stepping outside. You both look at each other across the top of your car and you notice him letting out a deep breath of his own as his shoulders relax at the sight of you.

He makes his way wordlessly around the front of your car to you and he’s studying your face intently. You look away from him when you realize he could probably tell that your eyes were puffy and that you had been crying. From your periphery, you see the back of his hand reach out when he’s right in front of you, hesitating slightly before it briefly brushes against your cheek, dabbing at a tear that you must’ve missed. His hand is warm against your skin and the sudden desire to hug him consumes every single fiber of your being, but when you look up at him, the soft expression on his face renders you still.

“Thank you for coming,” you’re whispering to him.

He lets out a short comical exhale through his nose. “I wasn’t going to not come. What kind of person do you think I am?”

You shiver as another gust of wind passes through, crossing your arms across yourself. Gojo slips the jacket he was wearing off, revealing a beige sweater underneath, and then he’s circling around you to place it over your back. It’s cozy and it smells like him.

You’re about to voice your concern for him but his voice behind you cuts you off. “I run warm, don’t worry.”

He walks around to the front of your car, bending over to the side to assess the flat tire at the front, his hands shoved into his pockets. You pull his jacket around you tighter. “Damn, the tread on your tires is horrendous. No wonder. You should really check on them more often.” He straightens himself up and peers at the crack across your windshield. “And that’s definitely not gonna be cheap to fix.”

You sigh in annoyance, his casual tone causing your eye to twitch slightly, but when you noticed your heart was calm and your breathing was normal again, you looked at him with the realization that him just being here managed to soothe you.

He looks back over at you with a considerate expression. “Do you want to sit in my car? It’s chilly out here.”

You press your lips together before shaking your head. “I feel like I need the fresh air.”

Gojo’s walking over to the patch of grass on the pavement at the side of the road and sits down on the curb. He pats the spot next to him with an awaiting look on his face and you make your way to him, sitting to his left. He looks down at the distance you’ve put between the two of you, almost three feet, and he’s sighing before scootching closer to you. “Don’t be greedy with your body heat. I said I run warm, not that I’m a furnace.”

His shoulder brushes against yours and his knee bumps against your thigh as he gets comfortable. You bring your legs closer to you and wrap your arms around them, resting your chin on top of your knee. Gojo was leaning back onto his outstretched arms behind him, legs extended in front as he tipped his head back up to look at the sky. You look over at him. His gaze slowly shifts from one point in the sky to the other, and you wonder what he’s mapping with his eyes.

“Thank you for getting the referee permission for me,” you say, realizing you never thanked him in person. “I’m excited to take photos out on the field next week.”

“Sure thing, my freaky little photographer. I’m sure you are,” he chimes.

You stick your bottom lip out in an annoyed pout. “So, we’re even now.”

He looks over at you and smiles. His blue eyes were a bit darker underneath the starry sky with less light to reflect off of them, and the quality made them look gentle. “No, you’ve gotta make sure Mina stays interested in Todo.”

You can tell he’s just joking, but you respond as if he’s serious anyways. “That was never part of the agreement,” you say, “besides, I don’t really think that’s necessary. She seems to be pretty taken with him already.”

He laughs. “And you’re not worried about that?”

“What’s there to worry about?” You ask.

“I don’t know, the fact they hit it off so fast?” He shrugs and you feel the friction of the movement against your shoulder.

“Hmm, no. Mina’s a smart girl, she’s good at sniffing out those red flags,” you say assuredly before lifting a suspicious eyebrow at him, “should I be worried? He's your friend. Enlighten me.”

Gojo shakes his head musingly at your concern. “Todo’s a good guy,” he says in a soft voice.

“He’s not on the soccer team, right? I didn’t see him the past couple of times I was on the field,” you say with realization.

“Nah, he’s just a mad lad I met in my freshman year econ class. We’ve been friends ever since,” he says, swaying his knee from side to side. “He’s the one that got me to join the frat.”

You two are silent for a moment, listening to the noise of the wind through the trees and crickets chirping in the distance. The previous anxiety you had from the night completely dissipated into peacefulness instead, and the man beside you was responsible for that shift.

“Can you tell me what that offer was that you were so excited about earlier this week?” he asks.

You look up to the sky briefly, trying to remember what he was talking about. “Oh. I might be able to publish the photos I take of the game next week to the sports recap in the school newsletter,” you say.

He turns his head to look at you, eyes widened. “Woah, seriously? That’s so cool. Can you make sure I look hot?”

You roll your eyes and go back to resting your chin on your knees. “Sure.”

A comfortable silence settles before he’s speaking again. “What inspired you to be a film photographer?” He’s turning his body so he’s facing you a bit more directly.

“Well, the end goal is film movie making…but my professor says that it’s important to understand the art of film photography before that,” you say, twiddling with the zipper of his jacket. “He says that ‘if a filmmaker cannot master the single frame shot, then how can they possibly put together a film composed of a million of them’?”

Gojo is humming beside you and nodding in agreement. He turns away from you to face forward again and he starts tapping his foot on the pavement of the road. “Huh. That’s kind of similar to something coach says during drills.”

You glance over at him, a little surprised. He continues to stare forward with a somewhat innocent expression on his face, and then you can practically see the moment another question pops up into his head.

“Why don’t you make your Instagram public? Your photos would probably get a lot more views or likes that way,” he says in an excited tone, like he’s cracked some code.

You let out a small laugh and bury your face into your knees, your voice sounding muffled when you speak. “I did have it public for a while. Until a troll spammed a bunch of hate comments on my posts and I quickly switched it to private after that.” Saying it out loud, you felt a bit silly. You’re apprehensive as you say the next few words. “I guess I’m scared that I’m not good enough to be acknowledged or successful, and that somehow other people will see that truth before I can.”

“Oh come on, y/n,” he’s saying beside you, gently nudging your arm with his elbow. The contact causes your breath to catch in your throat. “You just have to go for it. You can’t accomplish anything if you don’t face your fears.” When you watch those words leave his mouth, you notice he now has a thoughtful expression as he stares ahead to the other side of the road.

Another beat of silence goes by. “Why did you start playing soccer?” you ask.

He’s quiet for a long time as he blinks, to the point where you’re unsure if he even heard your question, but then he finally answers. “My dad used to play in college. He introduced me to the sport when I was younger and I fell in love with it.” Your perk up slightly and tip your head to the side in curiosity. He’s looking down at his lap now.

“That’s really wonderful, Satoru. Was he also center forward in college?” When you ask him this, you don’t miss the way his eyebrows pinch together for a split second before his expression relaxes again.

“Yeah, he was,” he responds, “he got injured in his last year, though. Never got to play after that.” There’s an inflection at the end of his sentence that makes you think he’s about to say more but he doesn’t.

Your face softens when you see him stare down at the curb with a slightly troubled expression. In a moment of tenacity, you place your hand on his thigh and his eyes widen when he sees the movement before he’s looking over at you.

“I’m sure he’s really proud of you,” you say softly, your hand reaching up to brush a few strands of his hair away from his eyes. Both of you are shocked at the intimate gesture and you’re quick to withdraw your hand.

Your faces are close, his side still pressed against yours, and neither of you break eye contact. You take a moment to study the handsome features of his face and your heart aches a little. The cold air has you licking your lips and Gojo’s eyes dart to them, gaze lingering, and you blink slowly when he leans forward slightly. Blue eyes find yours again and he stills himself, searching your face for something, and when he doesn’t see it he continues to lean forward and you lean towards him too. And then his lips press against yours, so chaste and so light that it’s possible you could have imagined it, but just when you feel his warm hand cup your face and he’s about to deepen the kiss, a loud honking noise startles the two of you and you both jump, pulling away from one another. You see Gojo’s face illuminated with bright golden lighting as he winces and holds up one of his hands in front of his face to shield himself from being blinded by it.

You turn your head to the left towards the source of the light and see a tow truck approaching. “Hey! Is this the flat and windshield crack?” you hear the driver shout out from where his head was stuck out the window.

You’re speechless, cheeks feeling flushed from the realization that Gojo had just kissed you, and you turn to look at him. He silently stands up with a weary exhale and a calm expression on his face and then shoves his hands into his pockets. “Yeah, it is.” He makes his way over to the tow truck and you hear him make conversation with the driver as well as the man in the passenger seat. You’re still sitting stunned on the curb, bringing your fingers up to gently touch your lips that were still searing from earlier. Gojo’s suddenly standing in front of you and you’re staring at his legs before you tip your head back up to look at him.

“Do you have any valuables in your car?” he asks, jerking his head in the direction of your car.

“Ah…my phone and my tote bag,” you say. He crouches down in front of you, earnest eyes level with yours, and his hand reaches into the pocket of his jacket where you had stashed your keys. He removes only your car key from the ring, handing the set of other keys back to you, and then he’s unlocking your car to get your stuff out of it.

You remain on the curb, watching as Gojo handles the entire interaction with the tow truck helpers. When they’ve successfully anchored your car to the tow truck and one of the men comes around to shake Gojo’s hand, you see him reach into his pocket, pulling out his wallet and handing the man some cash. You stand up in a bit of a panic and head over.

The tow truck is already pulling away with your car from the curb when you make it in front of Gojo. He hands you a business card with the towing company information on it and then looks down at you with a mild demeanor, letting out a long exhale. “Ready to go home? You’ve had a long night.”

Exhaustion suddenly consumes your entire being and you hesitantly nod.

The interior of Gojo’s car is nice. It’s clean, smells like him and pine, with nice leather seats that have warmers. You’re still wearing his jacket, clenching it tightly around you, as he inputs your apartment address into his GPS and starts to drive you home.

Neither of you say a word to one another during the ride. You watch his hand tighten its grip at the top of the steering wheel occasionally as he drives. He turns his car into the entrance of your apartment complex and parks in the loading zone. You watch as he makes his way out of the car to the passenger side door, opening it for you. You step outside and thank him.

“It’s okay, I’ll head inside from here,” you say, already feeling like you’ve caused him enough trouble. You abruptly remember that Mina isn’t home and the realization that you’ll be all alone tonight creates a hollow feeling in your chest.

He raises an eyebrow at you. “Come on,” he says, walking past you to make his way to the elevator and pressing the up button. It dings before immediately opening and he walks inside like he’s the one that lives here. He places a hand out to hold the door sensors when he sees that you don’t follow him inside. You jump out of the mild trance you were in and quickly rush in before he withdraws his hand and the elevator door shuts.

“Which floor?” He asks, finger hovering over the control pad. You tell him three.

Once you reach the third floor, you step out into the hallway and he follows suit. Your apartment was just seven units down towards the right and the two of you eventually made it to the door. You turn around to look up at him. His expression becomes slightly distressed and when you don’t say anything to him, he shoves his hands further into his pockets and sways back and forth slightly.

“Alright, mission accomplished, I got you home,” he says with a forced jovial tone, a hand rubbing the back of his neck. You notice he does that when he seems nervous about something.

Your mind recalls the kiss from earlier, the feeling of Gojo’s lips on yours, the heat of his body pressed up against you in the cold, the tender way his hand held your face still so he could have more of you, only for it to be cut short. Your heart is beating fast in your chest and your cheeks flush with warmth. He’s looking down at you intently and you’re looking up at him pensively.

You didn’t want to admit it to yourself. Not yet.

Your hands reach into your tote bag to pull out the keys to your apartment. “Yes, home.” He watches you jingle the metal in your hands. “Thank you.”

“Anytime,” he says and he takes a step back. Turning around, you push your key into the keyhole with shaking hands, turning it, and open the door to your apartment, letting yourself inside. You look at him from the entryway with the door still ajar.

“Good night, take it easy,” he says to you.

“Thanks, you too.” And then he’s out of your sight as you shut the door.

You lean back against the front door, letting out a sigh and biting down on your lip, the thumping of your heart pertinent throughout your entire body. There was a lingering truth to all of the emotions that you’ve been having recently. It followed you in the early hours of the morning, it followed you as you tried to fall asleep at night, it was present in the silence, lurking in the dark, and it was there with you tonight for every second that he was by your side.

You had feelings for Gojo Satoru.

a/n. thanks sooo much for reading and i hope you enjoyed aaa idk this week felt off for my writing for some reason but i heavily edited it so i hope it came out okay in the end.

➸ take me to chapter six!

tag list: @who-can-touch-my-boob @getitsatoru

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calcifiedunderland · 5 months ago

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Holidays in Clock Town~

— snapshots during the time you spend in Clock Town with Deuce for the holiday season.

Note: this was written for @the-banana-0verlord’s Secret Santa event last year! This fic was for @thekitchenywitch, and I edited it for length/flow to post it. Enjoy!

i. Invitation

You couldn’t deny that you were excited. After one insane year of dealing with overblots, you could finally rest, and if that wasn’t relaxing enough, you were personally invited by none other than Dylla Spade to spend the winter holidays with her and Deuce. Earlier on, the blue-haired boy had knocked on your door the day before Winter Break, beaming at you.

“C’mon, (name)! It’ll be fun with you! Plus it’ll beat spending the break at Ramshackle!” He put his hand on his chest, smiling, “Mom said she didn’t mind! She really wants to have you over!” It didn’t take you long to agree. So, you and Grim packed up your things. One step through the Mirror later, you were enveloped in Dilla’s arms in welcome. “I’m so glad you came dear!” Over your shoulder, she smiled at her son, who looked at you softly. “We’re both glad you’re here.”

ii. Decorating

The next few days were sheer bliss.

The day after you arrived, Dylla drove you all to a local tree farm in Clock Town. It was easy to say, between the scent of pine and greenery, you could’ve gotten lost in the farm easily. Luckily, Deuce took it upon himself to escort you, looping his arm through yours and taking his job of ‘finding the holiday tree’ very seriously. You chuckled to yourself.

He had the same serious face when he was busy studying. When you both found one, he insisted on hitching the tree to the car roof himself. Dylla chuckled to herself at her son being ‘a true gentleman’ but when the tree almost fell on top of Deuce, you decided to intervene.

After wrestling the tree inside the house, you, Deuce, and Grim pulled out every single box containing decorations that Dylla had. You looked inside, suddenly smirking. “Aww, is this you?” You asked, taking out a small frame ornament that had a younger Deuce (missing teeth and the without the spade over his eye) and his mother, grinning at the camera. Deuce turned pink, grabbing it from you. “N-no…” A small crash interrupted you both, and you looked over at Grim, looking sheepish with a broken glass ball ornament on the ground. “Nya, it was shiny! S’not my fault…”

iii. Gingerbread

By now, the entire house was decorated. You and Deuce lounged on the couch, while Grim snored softly on an armchair pillow. Dylla had gone out to do a few last-minute deliveries for work, so the two of you decided to make some hot chocolate while you waited (not forgetting to make her a cup, too). “Y’know, it’s against the rules to not have cookies with these,” you say distractedly, stirring the marshmallows.

Deuce’s eyes widened, “w-what? I don’t remember that in the rule book!” He muttered to himself, “I should’ve memorized them better-“ you laughed, cutting him off. “No, no, not literally,” Deuce visibly relaxed. “I just think it’d be nice to have some,” you gazed fondly into your mug. Deuce thought for a bit, then said “who says we can’t?”

Deuce’s eyes widened, “why? If anything I should thank you, I almost put salt instead of sugar. I just did what you told me to, you understood the recipe.” You giggled, “no, not about the cookies, but I couldn’t have lifted that bag of flour without you,” you gazed at him softly, when the front door opened.

“I’m back!” Dylla walked in, shaking off her coat while Grim stirred awake. “Nya, is that…!” Eyes sparkling, he bounded to the kitchen. Dylla walked behind him, taking a cookie, “you two made gingerbread? It tastes wonderful!”

You nodded, “I couldn’t do it without Deuce. He learned a lot under Trey at school.” You didn’t miss Deuce’s proud glow at impressing his mother. Deuce picked up a cookie in both hands, offering one to you with a grin, “Eat up, (name)! We’ve earned this!”

iv. First snow

You threw on your warmest clothes quickly. You opened the door, calling out “Deuce! What’re you doing up so early?! The sun’s not even up!” He huffed, breath clouding, “my mom has to go into town today, n’ the driveway’s blocked. I thought I’d start early.” You sighed, but felt touched at Deuce’s thoughtfulness. “I’ll help you, then.”

You took to scraping the ice and snow off of the car while Deuce shoveled the rest of the snow away. Finally, you both rested on the porch, shoulders pressed together, watching the sun slowly rise. Your breaths turned to misty clouds in the cold as you both breathed heavily after the work. Some time later, you pulled him up and were well into making a snowman when Dylla finally woke up, opening the front door. “What are you-“ Dylla stopped, watching the two of you continue without noticing her.

Deuce was carrying a large ball of snow while you were poking rocks and sticks into the snowman. Dylla leaned on the doorframe, and couldn’t help but smile as the two of you laughed, now running around in the now-clean driveway and throwing snow at each other. She could guess what happened.

v. Mistletoe

“The Town Square is fully decorated now,” Dylla said as she slid you your breakfast plate. “I saw it during deliveries yesterday. And they’re having the lighting festival tonight.” Deuce munched on his bacon, eyes wide, “oh! I remember those! It’s been a while since we’ve been. They light the tree, and have holiday drinks and snacks.” Deuce swallowed his food, turning to you, “we should all go, it’ll be fun!”

Grim cheered at snacks. “Sounds good to me! Let’s go now!” Dylla hummed, stirring her cocoa. “I won’t be able to go until after my deliveries for today, but it won’t take too long.” She patted Grim on the head, “how about you come with me Grim? We can ride around the town, and we’ll get there later. I’ll even take you to get local tuna,” she sing-songed. Grim’s eyes lit up, and he nodded rapidly.

Dylla chuckled, “Alright. Deuce, you should take (name) out,” Dilla smiled at Deuce. An hour later, the two of you were out on Deuce’s blastcycle, while Grim and Dylla stayed back. The wind ruffled Deuce’s hair, and you nuzzled him softly from behind. Soon enough, you two reached a clock tower with a large arch, and Deuce parked, helping you off. “Such a gentleman,” you teased, and he flushed.

You could see the glow of lights up ahead, probably the small holiday town gathering Dylla mentioned to Deuce. As the two of you walked, Deuce grabbed your arm, looking straight up with a blooming blush. “What?” You asked, slowly looking up until you saw some red berries and green leaves hanging from the arch. Oh. Oh my.

“I- um…” Deuce gulped, “W-we don’t have to, if you don’t want to, Prefect, um-“ you grabbed his hand. “Well, it wouldn’t be good to break the rules, right? Riddle will be extremely upset, after all,” you tried to joke, if only to get Deuce to ease up.

You bit your lip, “Yknow, I don’t mind if you don’t. But, only if you want to too.” You softly put your hands on his shoulders, trying for a smile to relax him. Poor Deuce looked so flustered.

Deuce’s eyes widened, but a small dorkish grin spread on his face. He gently wrapped his arms around you, pressing his forehead to yours. “Only if you’re sure, Prefect.” You responded by pressing your lips against his. You felt him smile against lips, and you couldn’t help but smile too. Around you, you heard cheering as the lights in the Town Square lit up. You and Deuce gently separated, and you couldn’t help but giggle at his flustered face.

“Happy holidays, Deuce.” You softly kissed his cheek, hugging him. You heard him laugh softly before hugging you back tightly, “Happy holidays to you too, Prefect.”

Reblogs and comments are forever appreciated!!

Happy holidays everyone!! Xoxo, ~Calci

#twisted wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #twst deuce #twst deuce spade #deuce spade #deuce spade x reader #clock town #dylla spade #twst dylla spade #calcified writing

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fandom-lover2 · 4 months ago

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Deep In The Woods, Something Lingers In The Trees

Chapter Six - Trees Are Taller Than You Think

Word Count - 1767

-image not mine-

Chapter Five - Scientists Always Spoil The Fun

Chapter Seven - Storm Clouds On The Horizon

“Why… am… I… doing… this…” I panted, slowing down.

Really, there was no valid explanation as to why I was doing it. No one was forcing me to.

Overhead, I heard him leap to another tree.

Chasing Caesar through the forest was fun, years ago.

Sprinting on the ground, leaping over branches and rocks, racing him around the trees, it was all fun and games. But that was years ago.

I was 18 now, nearing my last few weeks of high school.

No 18 year old wants to be running around just for fun. Especially not in weather this cold.

Usually we wouldn’t come out this early in spring, but Will was getting tense about his father’s worsening condition and Caroline thought it would be good for us to get out, leave them for a few hours.

I sat down, taking deep breaths as I leaned against a tree, my breaths coming out in great puffs of steam.

Why do we have to grow up?

One minute you’re playing board games in your best friend’s bedroom, and then next you’re lying awake at night wondering which clothes will get you noticed by the boys in college.

College, I hadn’t even applied for any courses and the cut off was last week. My parents had said I could take a gap year, as long as I got a job.

Doing what? I couldn’t image myself having to deal with people all day, could barely make a sandwich without burning down the kitchen, didn’t sit at a desk longer than 5 minutes unless necessary.

Caesar grunted as he landed before me, and then rose to his full height.

He’d grown in the two years we’d been friends, now taller than me. And not only that, he was more intimidating, his presence larger.

He had grown up. We both had.

He didn’t watch things with a child-like wonder anymore, didn’t play silly games anymore or joke around as much as he had before.

Now he was so serious, analyzed instead of observed.

This spontaneous desire to race was out of the blue, and not at all common anymore.

“I envy you.” I blurted, looking down and avoiding his gaze. Why did always have to watch me so intensely? Those hazel eyes staring into my soul.

“Why?” he signed.

“Because you don’t have to worry about university, or jobs, or how you’ll fit into this world. You can just be you.”

He was silent for a while. He had started doing this, thinking before he signed some nonsense that had us both giggling. He was getting older, wiser, more grown up. It was annoying that I was still the idiot who cracked jokes all the time and he’d toss me an unamused glance before continuing with his previous task.

Instead of finally answering, he held out his hand. I reached up and took it, letting him pull me up.

“I have so many options, so many opportunities, but they all feel so far out of reach. It’s like the rest of the world is spinning and everyone else knows what they’re doing in their lives and I’m just stuck. I know I need to start making plans, doing something, but I don’t know what to do, how to move on. I don’t- what are you doing?”

Caesar had turned his back to me, and was just standing there, facing the tree I had been resting against.

He looked over his shoulder at me, then jerked his shoulder, and faced the tree again.

“Ok, whatever that means. And I just don’t think I can find my place, you know? What if I never do? What if I study something I hate, or study something stupid and can’t get a job? What if my parents kick me out? Then I’ll have to get my own place, my own food. I can’t cook my own food! I can’t even- ok, seriously what are you doing?”

He was still just standing there. I knew he wasn’t ignoring me, because he tilted his head as I moved around, pacing as I ranted, but he still wasn’t looking at me. If this was one of his sulking moods again, I was gonna hit him on the back of his head with a pine cone.

And I was contemplating it too, looking at the ground for a pine cone when he finally turned and signed, “Climb on.”

“Well you’ve officially lost it.”

He took offense in that, frowning at me. “How?”

“I’m not getting on your back Caesar. This isn’t human piggy back. And why the hell would I do that anyway, so you make take me up the stupid tree?”

His no answer was all the answer I needed.

“No!”

Caesar didn’t flinch at my outburst, or even bother to change his expression of looking at me like I was an annoyance.

“Dude, no. I will die, and I’m way too heavy! And… and… well, you know?” I was running out of things to say.

I mean, just no. What the hell was he thinking? Why out of nowhere did he want me to do it? Years of friendships, months of coming out here, and now he wants me to climb onto his back and let him drag me up a tree?

We stood, tiny compared to the trees around us.

Caesar gestured to the tree again, then turned his back to me once more.

“I can’t climb. If you drop me or if-”

“Never drop you.” he interjected, reaching out to stop me from pacing anymore. “You will be safe with me.”

Caesar pulled me close to him, pressing our foreheads together. “Trust me.”

Of all the stupid, thoughtless things I had done with Caesar, this took the cake. And that includes the time we tried to make cake, with the Bunsen burner Will let out one day. I was still promising Will I’d get the stain off the kitchen ceiling, even though it’d been months.

“If you even pretend to let me fall, I swear.” my warning went unfinished as I stepped closer to him.

Caesar spun, a smile on his lips as he turned and faced the tree.

Oh god this was ridiculous. But then again, so was our whole friendship so this wasn’t new.

I stepped up behind Caesar, and wrapped my arms around his neck before jumping up, securing my legs around his stomach.

I knew he was strong, I mean come on he was a chimpanzee. He was insanely strong. But this strong? Right now, I just had to hope he was.

Caesar readjusted me a little, then stepped toward the tree.

I didn’t mean to, but I closed my eyes. His arms moved, his legs climbed, I held on tightly and prayed. After a few seconds, I thought he’d stop. But we were still going.

“Ok, that’s high enough.”

He did not answer.

“Caes, we’ve gone high enough. You can stop.”

He grunted, but didn’t stop.

“Caesar!”

He was going to kill me. Not intentionally perhaps, but this would kill me. And he’d better pray I did cause if it didn’t, I’d kill him.

Then, we stopped going up, and Caesar stepped sideways before reaching backwards, and wrapping an arm around my hips.

He pulled slightly, encouraging me to let go.

“What? No.”

With my eyes still screwed shut, I could not see if he signed anything to me, but I did hear him hoot and tug harder again.

“This was a mistake, this is a mistake, this was a mistake, this is a mistake.” I whispered over and over again as I stiffly uncurled my legs, letting my feet find purchase on whatever he had.

When my feet were securely planted, he took my arms, holding my hands as he stepped aside.

I clung to his fingers, my own hands shaking as my entire body trembled. Why had I thought this would be a good idea?

Caesar grunted, and I shook my head.

“No way.” If I opened my eyes, that meant looking down. Looking down meant seeing how high up I was. Seeing how high up meant knowing how far down I’d fall before dying.

Caesar grunted again, harder, and nudged me gently.

“I hate you.” I shakily whispered, forcing my one eye to open just a crack. And the air knocked from my lungs.

The city, the entire city, looked so small from out here. How had it felt so big and suffocating before?

Now I got why Caesar spent so much time up here. The city was so far away, the confines of our lives a problem so distant we couldn’t even see them.

Out here, up here, he was free. He had the entire forest.

So high up, all the problems I had were staying in the tree. That was it. That was all I had to be, all I had to worry about.

Up here, life was simple.

“Out there, is a whole city.” Caesar signed, using one hand. “So many opportunities. You will find your place.”

“And why can’t my place be to stay beside you?”

Caesar took a deep breath in, and released it as a sigh. “Only two of us need to be trapped.”

I could try to convince him otherwise, give some words of encouragement, tell him he wasn’t. But it would be a lie.

For years I had not only been living for myself. I had been living for him too. If I stopped now, hid away from the world, it would be a lot more than just my life I was wasting.

Caesar couldn’t change his life, wasn’t able to be overwhelmed by all the decisions he had to make. Everyday would be the same for him, over and over again. Always only looking out that window as the world passing by while he stayed stuck. Trapped.

I had been selfish. I wasn’t living for myself alone, not anymore. I hadn’t been for a long time.

If I stopped moving, I was damning us both to a life of imprisonment.

For Caesar, I had to move on. Find a new path, start a new chapter of our lives.

He would always be right there, across the street, ready to hear about my day, the people I met, the places I’d seen. He would be there.

“When we get home, you wanna help me look at some online courses?”

From the corner of my eye, I saw Caesar look over at me with a smirk.

Damn smart ape.

“Ok, but how do we get down? I have to pee.”

#pota caesar x reader #pota x reader #pota caesar #rise of the planet of the apes #planet of the apes #pota will #pota caroline #pota charles

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writer-in-theory · 1 year ago

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a splash of color (like no other) — zukka.

Chapters: 1/? Fandom: Avatar: The Last Airbender Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Sokka/Zuko (Avatar), Aang/Katara (Avatar) Characters: Sokka (Avatar), Zuko (Avatar), The Gaang (Avatar) Additional Tags: Soulmates, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Slow Burn, Bad Parent Ozai (Avatar), Mutual Pining, Canon-Typical Violence, Angst and Feels, Good Parent Hakoda (Avatar), At least hakoda tries his best, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, Idiots in Love, Other Additional Tags to Be Added

Summary: When Sokka's soulflowers bloom red, he's sure the spirits have gotten something wrong. There's no way the spirits would match him with someone from the people who took away his parents. When Katara's soulflowers bloom grey, he's even more sure that the spirits are full of shit. How could her soulmate be from the Air Nomads when they were killed a hundred years ago? When Zuko's soulflowers bloom blue, he knows he'll be lucky to last until adulthood. Soulmate AU where flowers bloom in the color of your soulmate's nation.

Excerpt:

It was supposed to be a special day—the day a person turns ten years old and their soulmark finally blooms. It’s the day that the soul connection becomes fully formed, when someone can begin to find the person who’s meant to be their other half. Usually the people of their tribe find their marks quickly; most of them never being destined to leave the comfort of the Southern Water Tribe. Their marks all come in the matching blue of the water tribe—an almost certainty that Sokka was supposed to have followed.

His parents were doing the thing where they talk without words, simply staring at each other above him as if that’s all it takes to understand each other. Sometimes, Sokka wondered if it might’ve been possible, considering the shared flowers he knew his parents bore.

“Why’s it not blue?” Sokka demanded, his little heart beginning to flutter with the building tension of the room. “What’s it mean, Dad?”

The sound of his title broke Hakoda from his silent conversation with Kya, his expression falling under his control once more. Sokka called it his ‘Chief look’, when his face fills with seriousness and determination.

“Do you remember what we told you about these marks, son?” Hakoda asked him, his hand replacing Kya’s to cradle Sokka’s wrist in the air. The movement revealed the blue-colored freesias curling around Hakoda’s wrist and forearm. Sokka had spent a long time tracing along the petals of them, demanding his dad tell him the story of how he and Kya met years before. No matter how many times he’d told the story, his father never failed to smile and retell it.

The moment you first meet your soulmate is like seeing the world in color for the first time. There’s nothing like it.

“It’s my soulmate,” Sokka answered, studying the red (and distinctly not blue) petals carefully. They stood out among the whites and blues of the water tribe’s clothing, among the blue of his parents’ own flowers.

“It’s a fire lily,” Hakoda explained then, waiting with all the patience in the world as Sokka processed the information himself.

Red. Fire. He’d never seen them in person, but everyone in the tribe knew the stories of the Fire Nation raids, when they’d stolen every waterbender for the sole purpose of weakening the Southern Water Tribe. Red meant danger, badness . It shouldn’t be swathed against his skin now, not in this flower, not where there should be blue.

#zukka #atla #avatar the last airbender #zuko #sokka #atla fanfic

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kathanglangit · 2 years ago

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The Sixth Blade - ... - Fear Itself

Last two days! Gubat Banwa launches on Kickstarter on October 10, and we need your help to get the word out! Silence your fear- stifle it if you must. Harness it if you can. Fear begets hesitation, Kadungganan, and when rivers bleed, and skies burn, and blades dance to the rhythm of cannonfire- Hesitation is death. Let the Sword Isles of Gubat Banwa paint your stories in its thousand colors, inspired by the intricate cultures of Southeast Asia. Carve your legacy into the world by blade and smoke as warrior Kadungganan in this tactical martial arts TTRPG.

Not long now until the long-anticipated KS launch, and I've been posting the weapons I've drawn for the game as a sort of countdown. These were supposed to be Swordtember drawings, but the launch got bumped back a little bit. 6/7 blades! The penultimate entry goes to the CORDILLERAN AXE

Some time in June 2020, a certain weapon was intercepted in Australia entering the country from the United States. An ancient terror-weapon, which brought low the conquistadors of old, and drenched the soil of the pine mountains such that the ground remains the color of rust. In November the following year, the ax was returned to the Philippines. Strap in- it's about to get really convoluted.

(Photo from the Philippine Embassy in Australia) You may be wondering why I referred to this blade as a "Cordilleran Ax" rather than using a native term like in the rest of this series. That is mostly because the ax comes in many forms, and bears many, many names. Seriously, you wouldn't believe how many names there are for these things.

(Photo from the collection of Nonoy Tan) They are commonly called "head axes" (we'll get to why in a minute- but you can probably guess), referring to a collective of different blades of a more-or-less similar shape, used by the peoples of the Cordilleras. "Igorot" is a general term used to refer to these peoples of the mountains of north Luzon.

(Diagram by Lorenz Lasco)

You will recall from the thread on the hinalung that Spain never took the Cordilleras, allowing the peoples there to more easily preserve their traditions and cultures. These axes belong to some of those same cultures. These- too- were preserved from way back.

(Figure from The Tingguian: Social, Religious, and Economic Life of a Philippine Tribe by Fay-Cooper Cole) It's easy to forget that these objects- all of the blades I've been posting about- are very deeply embedded in cultures that still exist today. These peoples have their own names and stories and knowledge of these blades that I simply do not have access to the way they do. It's all I can do to try and deliver accurate info without misrepresenting anything.

(Photo from the National Museum) And try I have. This is a diagram I tried to make as a reference, way, way back.

I know a bit more now, I'm not sure if I still stand by this, I am sure that it will need some updating. Due diligence is the bare minimum we can do, to respect the knowledge of people who are still around. Allow me to try again! The one I drew in the image at the start of this thread is called the SINAWIT. This is the Kalinga variant of the axe. From what I can tell, those with the curved/concave cutting edges tend to belong in this category.

(Photo from Pinoy Blade Hunter) Supposedly, the protrusion on the handle is also indicative of a Kalinga origin.

(Photo from Ursulo of Filipino Traditional Blades)

(Photos from Global Inventory of Filipiniana Artifacts) Here's some close-ups of another example, featuring ornamentation in the form of copper/copper-alloy "staples" along the handle, which may have also aided in providing grip.

(Photos from Lorenz Lasco) Variations in size are common across all the axes we'll be looking at, some are short and fit well in one-hand, others are large enough to accommodate two. The biggest ones I've seen are sinawit.

(Photo from Christian Vasquez of Filipino Traditional Blades)

(Photo from Ron Zambarrano) Next up is the GAMEN or GAMAN. This is the Bontoc variant of the axe. Here's a gamen (top) compared to a sinawit (bottom) of similar size. Notice the difference in the shapes of the blades.

(Photo from the collection of Zel Umali as shared by Filipino Traditional Blades) Another term that gets thrown around is "pinagas", though I believe this is a general term referring to all "head axes" rather than one specific variant. I could very well be wrong on this, as the word pinagas has to come from one of the many languages in the Cordlieeras- I'm just not certain which. This one was labelled "Bontoc pinagas".

(Photo from Zel Umali) The thickness of the blade tends to vary as durability requires. In particular, the spike on the back tends to be thicker overall. Portions of the blade closer to the handle appear to be thicker as well.

(Photos from Lorenz Lasco) Examples of the gaman as I have seen them tend to have more straight or sometimes convex blades. I am uncertain if the convex shape is a unique feature, or a product of happenstance, or just how whoever used this blade liked to sharpen it.

(Photo from Pinoy Blade Hunter) They also tend to be "taller" than sinawit I've seen, with blades that are almost like squares with spikes on the back, as opposed to sinawit that are more rectangular. Still following so far? Good- it's going to get more complicated soon.

I am not- by any means- formally educated on Philippine blades, so always take my words with a grain of salt. This ax inherited by a blacksmith in Baguio is something that might be gaman, but I can't categorize it with certainty without knowing more. The profile is not exactly the same, the spike is considerably longer and more curved.

(Photo from HanYan Blades) But that's the least of our worries! The ALIWA, BINARAWAD, BADAN, BADON, BINAROY are only some of the terms used to refer to the Isneg variants. Remember when I said it would get convoluted?

(Photo from Nonoy Tan; Identified as binarawad-badan-badon in that order) The binarawad in the previous photo looks- to my very untrained eye- to be similar to the gaman in many respects. Whenever I think I've identified a distinction, a different specimen shows up.

(??? from Rob Miller)

(Gaman(?) from Hearst Museum) Remember when I said the protrusion on the handle was uniquely Kalinga? But I also said taller/squarer blades were common in gaman? But the swept shape on the back looks emblematic of the Isneg variants we just saw? Identify that topmost blade for me, real quick.

(Photo from Pinoy Blade Hunter) Material exchange of culture makes a mess of categorization. The peoples of the Cordilleras regularly interacted- by trade, union, or warfare- and the influences clearly went all ways. Perhaps that blade above was made by a smith who took influences from a variety of sources. Perhaps the blade itself has worn out its old handle, and the new owner replaced it with this one There are a lot of ways this could have come about, it's difficult to say. Blades tend to make their way around. This sinawit- a Kalinga blade- has been passed down through generations, and was found in Sagada.

(Photo from Pinoy Blade Hunter) It certainly doesn't help when blades are found far from home and are labelled with confusing specific terms or useless general terms or just different terms entirely.

[Author's Note: Apparently there's a 30 image limit per post? I'll continue this in a reblog, I think.]

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elizabethwritesmen · 2 years ago

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Notice - Part 4

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Curvy!Reader

Warnings: Smut 18+, Mature Themes, Self deprecation on both sides, Body image issues, Self hatred, Angst (That's basically all this chapter is sorry love you guys), Slow burn, Mutual Pining

Summary: Dean is gone. Until he's not.

Word Count:

AN: Hey guys! I'm so sorry it took so long for me to put this out. This past (almost) year has been ridiculous, and I haven't had much time to even think about writing. But I'm back at it now with lots of fresh ideas and chapters! And I snuck in a little something as an official apology (;.

The next chapter will be the last, and I might do a short epilogue.

Thanks so much for the continued support and enjoy!

╔══ ❀•°❀°•❀ ══╗

She pined after Dean left, just as she knew she would.

Every time she saw a man that looked like him at a bar, or a store, or anywhere, she fought the urge to say something. She knew deep down, though, that if Dean ever came back, she's the first person that would find out. He would knock on her door and let her know how long he was staying for, and maybe he would even spare her a kiss this time before disappearing.

She waited for that knock. A month passed and she waited, then two, then three. Eventually she grew cynical, her inner demons possessing her and her insecurities winning.

"Come on, Y/N. Please. If you want to wait forever for that guy to come back, more power to you, but can you at least rejoin the human race in the mean time?" Evelyn asked, her voice heavy through the phone speaker.

"I don't know, Evvy. I don't really like the whole bar scene anyway, I never have fun like you guys do."

"Yes, we've been over this. Ashley and I have tons of men all over us and you never have anybody. Did you ever stop to think that maybe that has nothing to do with how you look? Seriously, Y/N. You're hot. But you're quiet, and reserved, and you hang out in corners and read or peel labels off bottles. It's intimidating and off putting. What you need is to come out with us tonight and let your hair down! Have a good time!"

"I like corners and books and peeling labels," Y/N huffed.

"I know you do, but why don't you just take a break from the norm? You might have a good time, and it'll get your mind off of Dean."

The mention of his name was enough to make her second guess her decision. She did want to forget about him, at least for the night. She wanted to remember what it felt like to be human.

"Okay, fine. But you're driving. Come get me."

Evelyn cheered on the other line and hung up, leaving Y/N to wonder if she'd made the right decision. She shrugged off her doubt and wandered to her closet, picking through clothes until she found an outfit she was happy with.

An hour later, there was a knock on her door. Evelyn and Ashley stood on the other side, both with giddy smiles plastered onto their faces.

"Stop looking at me like that," Y/N furrowed her brows, letting them in and shutting the door behind them.

"Like what?"

"All smiley and weird. You look like the doodle bops. You're creeping me out."

The girls giggled, and Ashley explained, "We're just so happy to see you. It's been so long! It's like you forgot that we're all best friends."

"It hasn't been that long. Besides, I'm sure you guys have more fun without me, I am the lame one."

Evelyn huffed, "No you're not. You're like the coolest of all three of us. You're the funniest, and the smartest. It's not the same without you. We don't even really go out much anymore since you stopped coming with us."

"It's true," Ashley nodded, "You make us whole. I'm glad to have you back."

Y/N was taken aback. She always thought she was extra. She never realized how much she mattered to them.

"And by the way," Evenlyn raised her brows and blatantly checked her out, "You look hot."

Y/N blushed, smoothing out her yellow mini dress. Her white heels complimented it perfectly, and she paired the outfit with assorted gold jewelry and curled hair.

They walked into the bar, and Y/N let out a sigh when she noticed how packed it was.

"There are so many people here," she cringed.

"And you're about to flirt with one of them!" Ashley exclaimed, much to her dismay.

"I don't think she's gonna have to make the first move, either, with that dress on," Evelyn smirked.

They found a booth and Y/N volunteered to go to the bar and order them all drinks. Three beers.

"I love a girl in a good sundress," a voice came from behind her. She turned around to see a man, tall and handsome, but not quite Dean.

"Oh," she awkwardly spoke, "Thank you?"

"You're welcome," he laughed, "Why don't you let me buy you a drink?"

"I already ordered one, but thanks."

"Okay, then why don't you hang out with me while until you finish it and I'll buy your next one?"

He was persistent, she had to give him that.

"Okay," she sighed, figuring she had nothing to lose. At least it would be a short-lived distraction.

"Here you go, ma'am," the bartender handed her three bottles.

"Thanks," she smiled, grabbing them and turning to the man she'd been talking to, "I'll be right back."

She brought Evelyn and Ashley the beer and told them about him.

"Go for it, girl! He's been staring at you since we walked in, he totally wants some," Ashley spurred her on.

"Yeah, but I don't want some," she frowned.

"Okay, but he doesn't know that yet, so there's no harm in flirting. Just something to get over Dean and boost your self confidence," Evelyn inputted.

Y/N let out yet another exasperated sigh and silently agreed, walking back over to the man.

"There you are, hot stuff!" he smiled at her, all teeth.

"Yeah, sorry, I just had to bring my friends their drinks."

"No problem at all, sweetness, I knew you'd come back for more."

Internally, she was cringing. This dude was disgustingly cocky. He looked like a former frat boy who peaked in college.

They talked for a while, but she really wasn't interested at all. Even a conversation with him was a chore, and her energy levels weren't high enough to inflate his ego further.

"Listen, Jordan, I'm gonna go back to my friends but it was nice to meet you," she interrupted him in the middle of his sentence, not caring what he had to say.

"Excuse me?" his confusion showed all over his face.

"Yeah, I'm sorry, I'd just rather be hanging out with them. There are a lot of other girls here you could talk to," she smiled politely, ejecting herself by turning away from him.

He grabbed her arm and pulled her back into him, growling through gritted teeth, "But I'm talking to you. You know, you big girls are good in bed but you're really all fucking bitches."

She tried to yank herself away from him, but it was to no avail. She yelled, "Let go of me!" He didn't listen, holding tighter and reaching down to her ass, giving it a squeeze.

"It's ok, hot stuff, I can take care of that. This ass needs me behind it, huh? Get rid of your attitude real quick."

She didn't even have time to respond, or spit on him, or punch him, or whatever else she planned to do because she was ripped from his grasp. It was a whirlwind, and she felt like she was spinning, but when she grounded herself, she was behind a solid wall of leather.

She recognized him by his smell alone. It was Dean. Her Dean.

"She told you to let her god damn go," he deadpanned, his voice low and deadly.

"Who the fuck are you, her dad? Get the fuck out of here, she's just some whore," Jordan huffed.

That was all it took for Dean to swing, sharp and quick, his fist landing square in the center of the other man's face. Jordan's nose instantly started leaking blood behind the hand he'd put over it.

"She is not a whore. She just doesn't fucking want you, asshole."

He grabbed her hand and lead her out of the bar before the owner even had a chance to kick them out. Evelyn and Ashley followed closely behind.

"Are you okay, Y/N?" Evelyn asked, concern written on her face like a book.

"I am," the girl meekly assured, rubbing her arm where the creep had grabbed her.

"Um," Ashley started, glancing between Y/N and Dean pointedly, "We're gonna go. We'll call you later to check on you."

"Yeah," Evelyn agreed, sensing the mood. She turned to Dean as they walked to her car, "Get her home safe."

"Always," he promised, waving goodbye to the girls and turning to his favorite. "What the hell were you doing, talking to a guy like that, sweetheart?"

"I..." she stuttered. She didn't want to lay all her cards out on the table just yet. "I don't know. I liked him."

Dean cocked a brow, "Him? Really? See, I just don't believe that."

She rolled her eyes and stomped her foot petulantly, "I thought it would be a distraction, Dean."

"From what?" he asked, as if he really didn't know. Her eyes averted to the ground and she pursed her lips awkwardly. That told him everything. "From me?"

"I think about you more than I should. I just knew you would come back, so I've been waiting for you, but I didn't know when, so I wanted a distraction."

"How many distractions have you looked for?"

"He was the first one. And I didn't plan to sleep with him or anything. I just thought the conversation would be good for me. Turns out it wasn't."

"Well you don't have to answer to me, sweetheart. But you should know, I've been thinking about you, too."

"Really?"

"I've been trying to get back. It's just been impossible. We've been so busy with hunt after hunt, and there haven't been any here."

"If there's not a hunt here, then why are you here?"

"There was an easy one close to home. I sent Sam on it alone for a couple days and I drove here."

Her eyes met his, and she saw how worn down he was. The innocence in his eyes was dwindling every day. Her heart ached for him, wishing she could lighten the load. Wishing she could take some of it away for him.

"Take me home," she demanded, her voice sweeter than her words. He nodded, leading her to the impala and opening the passenger side door for her.

The car ride was silent. As was the walk up to her apartment. Neither of them knew what to say. All of the feelings from before were still there, in fact they were stronger than they'd been the first time.

They stood awkwardly at her door for a moment, and she cleared her throat to ease it, "You can stay here tonight, Dean. You don't have to find a cheap motel."

"I actually already have one. But I'd still rather stay here, if you're sure it's okay."

She let him in and he sat on her couch as she walked to her bedroom to change. She threw on a tank top and a pair of spandex shorts, rushing back to his side. She didn't want to be away from him for too long. Really, she didn't want to waste a moment of the time she had with him.

"How long are you here for?" she asked.

"Until tomorrow afternoon."

She couldn't stop the sorrow from creeping into her smile, "Well at least we have a little bit of time."

"I need more with you."

"I know," she sighed, "But this will do. Are you hungry? I'm gonna make something to eat."

"I'll help you," he offered, following her into the kitchen.

They threw together some burgers and fries, and she handed him the remote, instructing him to find a movie. He did, The Untouchables, mumbling something about it being his favorite of all time.

Before they knew it, they were sitting next to each other on the couch, plates empty and discarded, movie almost over.

"You were right. The movie was good," she mused as the credits began to roll.

"I’m always right,” he smirked, turning the TV off and carrying the plates to the kitchen, washing them before she could protest.

A loud yawn burst from her lips as she joined him, placing the newly clean plates in her cabinet.

“You should get some sleep, sweetheart. I’ll still be here in the morning,” he told her.

“I’m not ready to go to bed yet, I don’t want to let you out of my sight,” she whined in protest.

He chuckled, pulling her into his chest and squeezing. She took the moment to breathe him in,

“Hey Dean, why’d you go to the bar when you got to town instead of to my apartment?” she’d been wondering for hours but hadn’t had the chance to ask yet. Finally, she said fuck it and went for it.

“I came here first. You weren’t home, and it’s a Saturday night. I figured the bar was a good place to start looking for you.”

Her heart warmed, swelling in her chest.

“Let’s just have a living room sleepover and watch movies til we fall asleep,” she suggested, pulling just far enough away to look at him.

“Or, and feel free to say no or slap me or whatever you think is appropriate, I could sleep with you tonight? We don’t have to do anything. I just want to be next to you.”

And he meant it. He’d never been so eager to simply sleep in the company of a woman in his life. He wanted more, sure, but he was fine with just holding her. She was warm, and she smelled of vanilla and strawberries. She was comfort and she felt like he’d found a home. Hunting didn’t really allow him one of those, so he savored her.

“Come on,” her voice was barely over a whisper as she pulled him by his hand to her room.

He had to fight the urge to inhale as he walked in. Her scent was so heavy in the room he could wrap up in it like a blanket. He felt like he was becoming addicted, and he dreaded leaving the next day. She was just as perfect, if not more so, than he remembered, and he didn’t understand how she came so easily to him when nobody else ever had.

“You’re welcome to shower before you go to sleep. I have some extra boxers that I think might fit you,” she hummed as she flitted about, cleaning up as much as she could. She wasn’t expecting him, and her stomach was in knots, butterflies fluttering in there like she’d never felt.

“Why do you have boxers laying around?” he asked, brows furrowed, a twinge of jealousy tainting his voice.

“Evelyn stayed over a few months ago with her ex boyfriend and they forgot to bring his boxers, so they went to the store and got some. He only used one pair out of the pack, the other two are still in there. I’m pretty sure he left a T shirt too, but I’d have to look for it,” she explained. She felt empowered by his slight jealousy; it made her feel wanted.

“Just the boxers will do,” he smiled, and she reached into one of her dresser drawers to fish the package out for him.

He went to shower and while he was gone, her nerves got the best of her. She paced, almost frantic, heart beating out of her chest. What if he made a move? What if he didn’t make a move? She hadn’t become less insecure since he’d last been there, and she worried about whether or not he even liked her. Maybe it was just a friendship thing for him. Maybe it was a pity thing. Maybe he didn’t want to see her at all, and just stumbled into her at the bar by accident.

“You okay, sweetheart?” he asked, drawing her out of her panicked state. She stood frozen when she laid eyes on him, his hair wet and his chest bare. The boxers fit perfectly and her eyes widened when she noticed what they were hiding. It was…. intimidating, to say the least.

“Yes!” she squeaked out, jumping under the covers, willing the flush to leave her cheeks.

He climbed in beside her as she turned on her bedroom TV, putting on an old movie and turning the volume down for background noise.

“I can go to the couch if you’re uncomfortable,” he offered. His concern for her was evident.

“I’m not,” she said, all too quickly. “I just… I can’t believe you came back. Why did you come back?”

He sighed, heavy and thoughtful, “You’re all I’ve thought about since I met you. I talk about you all the time. I didn’t send Sammy on that hunt alone, he went without telling me and called me on the way. Told me to drive here and see you before he goes crazy.”

“Why are you so interested in me?”

“I guess for the same reason you’re so interested in me. It’s not something I can explain. It’s just something I feel.”

“Yeah,” she paused, “Tonight is the first night I’ve gone out since you left. I’ve been waiting for a knock at my door like an idiot. You’ve.. you’ve vexed me.”

“You vexed me first.”

She met his eyes, startled by how close he was to her.

“Close your eyes,” he whispered.

“Why?”

“Trust me. Close your eyes.”

She did as he asked. She hoped he’d kiss her, but she was only half expecting him to, doubt gnawing at her like a dog with a bone.

It let go of her, though, the second his lips met hers.

It was the kind of kiss a girl doesn’t forget. Heavy, and soft, and passionate, and desperate. And sweet. So sweet. His taste was burned into her memory and if she was ruined before, she was much worse for wear now.

He slipped his arms around her and pulled her into his chest, embracing her like he’d wanted to since the moment they met. She whined, needy and pliant, and he had to fight the urge to groan. He’d never felt want like he did with her. She made him feel like he could do anything.

She arched her back into him, wanting to be closer. She thought she’d die without more of him right that second. His bare skin taunted her, warm and hard and inviting. Her nipples hardened through her thin tank top, pushing against him, creating the most beautiful friction. She couldn’t hold back her moan when his tongue brushed against hers, and her leg found it’s way over his hip, her core meeting his in a fit of need.

The groan he’d been saving came out full force, his hand sliding over the curve of her ass, pulling her closer, wanting…. wanting…. wanting. Only then did the kiss slow, coming to a sweet and breathless end.

“Maybe we should wait,” he suggested.

“Did I do something wrong?” she asked.

“I’d rather work for you, sweetheart. I don’t want this to be something you regret. I want it to be perfect, like you deserve. And I just don’t think I deserve you quite yet.”

“Dean..” she breathed out, unsure of what to say. He was so… careful with her. It turned her into a puddle. “We can wait. But you deserve everything.”

“You are everything.”

╚══ ❀•°❀°•❀ ══╝

Tag List: @stoneyggirl2 @winchestergypsy90 @hazel-eye-coffee-shop-girl-blog @deansbbyx @siospins2 @gatorgal94 @classyunknownlover @jbcalway @djs8891 @mishapocalyse @justrealizedimmascifygurl @ellie-andthemachine @sassy-pelican @tmb510 @superwholockisdabest

#dean winchester smut #dean x reader #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader

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saikokirakira · 2 years ago

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Part 1 of 2: Pagtingin (Feelings) [Steve Harrington x Reader]

a/n: let's pretend this hasn't been sitting in my completed list since ferbruary. it was initially a 3-parter, but i decided the 3rd one to be part of the sequel. guess who's the dumdum who doesn't have a title for it? i'm using the Ben&Ben song I listened to while writing this chapter. it was either this or "baka sakali (Maybe, just in case)". it also annoyed me because "pagtingin" means "look; gaze" but in its context it means "(hidden) feelings," so it's neither wrong or right. language, ammarite?

summary: based on this blurb on a hanahaki au/flayed!reader

word count: 2.1k (brace yourself because the next chapter is almost 5 times long. yep. you heard me.)

warning: steve is an oblivious himbo; unrequited feelings / pining; minor violence; implied underage drinking (it's season 2, ykyk?); stranger things season 2 canon

You had a crush on Steve “The Hair” Harrington. Then again, who didn’t have a crush on King Steve?

Growing up with Steve, albeit shy of two years from the senior, had you following him around like a puppy. You watched him jump from one girl to the next before he surprisingly settled with Nancy Wheeler last year. “She’s different,” he had said before asking you for help on how to woo her.

Stop flirting with other girls around her. Actually listen to her and try to be interested in what she says. Get to know her instead of treating her like another girl. Surprisingly, he listened to your advice – everything you wished he would do for you – and got the girl.

Steve always got the girl.

However, something strange happened when Nancy’s best friend, Barbara, went missing, not much later since Will Byers as well. With your overprotective parents dropping a curfew on you, you barely hung out with Steve anymore. You knew nothing good will happen when you left him too long with Tommy and Carol, and you were right.

Much to your surprise again, Steve and Nancy lasted until his senior year. You couldn’t argue that being with her made Steve want to better himself. You even got to know Nancy for a bit, and for someone quite reserved, you actually liked her.

“Haven’t you ever considered dating?” she had asked you once.

You hummed for a bit, pondering on your answer. “Steve knows most of the nitty gritty on the guys on Hawkins High,” you explained. “He scares the bad ones away, and the ones that are decent are too intimidated with him being my friend since forever.”

“You never thought of dating Steve?”

You laughed lightly. You had a crush on Steve, but you didn’t like him enough to act out on it. “What an odd question from his own girlfriend,” you pointed out, and interestingly enough, it made her uncomfortable. You guessed a lot of Steve’s exes were also pretty intimidated by your friendship with Steve.

“Nope,” you lied smoothly. “Steve never asked me, and we never had the conversation on crossing that line in our friendship.” Still, the pinched look on Nancy’s face remained, and you began to wonder if it was more than just jealousy… or if she was hiding something else.

That inkling you had took form in Jonathan Byers half-carrying a wasted Nancy during a Halloween party. You asked around for Steve only to find out that he also ditched you. You aggressively poured yourself a glass of spiked punch before catching yourself, pouring the contents back in the bowl.

“Smart move.”

You didn’t need Steve to tell you that Billy Hargrove was bad news.

“Harrington ditched you, pretty girl?”

“What do you think?” you shot back. You walked out of the kitchen to find a house phone, only to find a couple making out right against it. “Seriously?”

Billy snickered right next to you.

“You’re still here,” you sighed in exasperation to show your annoyance. “Why?” You narrowed your eyes at the blonde.

“Oh, please, no need to be short with me, pretty girl,” Billy said, flashing you what he probably thought was his charming smile. “Harrington isn’t here for you to be his loyal lapdog.”

“What are you talking about?”

Billy stepped closer to you, and you were overwhelmed by the smell of beer and cigarettes from his person. “From what I saw earlier, Wheeler and Harrington seem to be over,” he whispered in your ear, “so you might actually have a chance this time.”

Rage quickly filled your veins, and you shoved his bare chest, pushing him away from you. Your reaction only amused Billy further. “You don’t know anything about me,” you spat out.

“As a matter of fact, I know everything just by looking at you,” Billy retorted, giving you a once-over. “I don’t often help out girls like you, but you’re just pitiful. Pathetic even.” He continued, “Guys like Steve don’t stay single for long. Takes one to know one, pretty girl. Best make your move soon.”

You hated how you knew Billy was right. Nancy clearly had feelings for Jonathan, and it wouldn’t be long before Steve would be looking for a rebound. Maybe if… maybe if he could see how you and him worked so well over the years, Steve might also see you as someone worth long-term. Even longer than Nancy.

For the next two days, you muddled over how you would tell Steve how you really feel. You settled for simplicity. Just give it to him honest and straightforward. With a motivated resolution, you drove to his house and caught Steve just in time as he was leaving his house.

“Oh, perfect timing,” Steve smiled, pulling his keys out. “Come with me. I need your help picking out something. I’m driving.”

Ten minutes later, you and the florist locked eyes, seeming to have an understanding with each other, while Steve fawned over the bouquet that you chose for Nancy.

There’s just something fucked up over choosing a bouquet you want for your crush to give as a reconciliation gift for his ex.

Mysteriously enough, Nancy wasn’t at her house, but Dustin Henderson, a friend of her younger brother’s, was. You observed how the boy dragged Steve over to the car, where you were waiting, and talked about “a baseball bat with nails.” Steve succumbed to Dustin’s demands and opened the trunk of his car.

“Why the hell do you have a baseball bat mace, Harrington?”

Dustin directed his attention to you. “Are you good with pets?” he asked randomly.

“I used to have a cat and a dog?”

“Perfect. You can come with us.”

For the next three hours, you and Steve followed the boy in his storm cellar, finding a tunnel dug by an animal too big to be a dog. Dustin explained to you about a monster he cared for as a baby, until it ate his cat. Now, he made plans that you and Steve would come back the next day to find it before it was fully grown.

By that point, you simply indulged Dustin and his games. It was all just bad unskippable side quests on your way to confess to Steve. … right?

When morning came, Steve picked you up, telling you that Dustin called him to buy meat to bait his rogue monster pet. Again, you indulged them and came along. If Steve was losing his sanity over his breakup, so were you by still trying to confess in these conditions.

“Why are you still friends with me?” Steve asked all of a sudden, his eyes were focused on the road to the way to Dustin’s house. “I’m no longer popular. My girlfriend broke up with me. I’m currently hanging out with my ex’s brother’s friend finding a cat-eating monster.”

Tell him. It’s the right time. But what if it’s not? Of course, it is. What if he’ll think I’m only taking advantage of his situation? What if he’ll think I’m only friends with him for that reason?

“Don’t be full of yourself, Steve,” you snorted, picking at your chipped nail polish. “I’ve known you since you were a loser. It isn’t so different now.”

“You’re such an ass.”

Your heart mellowed at the sight of Steve’s soft smile. Maybe I don’t have to tell him. These quiet genuine moments didn’t have to change. You loved it as it was.

“You kept something you knew was probably dangerous in order to impress a girl who... who you just met?”

“You have to admit, Steve, that’s pretty metal,” you commented, bumping Steve’s shoulder.

“What does that even mean?” Steve asked while still tossing pieces of chopped meat along the abandoned train tracks.

“It means it’s an awesome gesture,” you said, patting Dustin on the back. The boy smiled at you, preening from your support. From the past hour, you held a soft spot for Dustin who lacked in confidence but still put himself out there for a crush.

He’s younger but definitely had more guts than you.

“I just feel like you’re trying too hard,” Steve admitted.

“Hey,” you elbowed your friend in the side in warning.

“Well, not everyone can have your perfect hair, all right?” Dustin said quite glumly.

“The key with girls is just…” Steve trailed off, while you cut in, “Oh, I’d love to hear this.” He continued, “… just acting like you don’t care.”

And you burst laughing. You laughed for a good minute with tears leaking from the corner of your eyes. “Oh, for goodness’ sakes,” you said, “stop giving the boy bad relationship advice, Steven.”

“Are you telling me you never chased after a boy who didn’t show that much interest?” Steve asked, but just as he shot the question, he immediately followed with, “Don’t tell me. I don’t want to know.”

“I wanna know,” Dustin piped in.

“Just one boy,” you whispered in the boy’s ear but still loud enough for Steve to hear. “It doesn’t matter because he doesn’t like me that way.” Before anyone could catch your hidden meaning, you added, “Besides, I only go for guys who genuinely adore me.”

“As they should!” Steve exclaimed, pointing a finger at you. “Remember what I told you: Never take less than what you deserve.”

“As I was saying,” you emphasized, pointedly looking at Steve for interrupting, then crouching to meet Dustin’s eyes, “just be true with your feelings and yourself, and the right girl will come around for you.”

“I mean, that works too,” Steve mumbled. “Some girls are just special.”

“Like Nancy?”

… and that was your cue to walk ahead of them. You should’ve known that a wholesome moment wouldn’t last. Unfortunately, it would only go downhill from there.

In the next few hours, you were being chased by reptilian dogs, rendezvoused with Chief Hopper and the Byers, and met a punk kid who had mind powers. If you weren’t constantly fighting to stay alive, you would’ve demanded context from Steve. And now, you were in a tunnel under a pumpkin patch farm that led to an evil alternate dimension.

Some side quest for romance.

Steve led the group while with you last in case something snuck from behind. You were all careful not to breathe too hard, and you made sure to avoid touching anything on the walls, keeping eye on the kids as well. Doing so proved more difficult the further you went down the tunnel looking for what Mike called “the hub.” The vines and plant bulbs for some reason looked aware of your presence in the tunnels. In fact…

“Dustin, watch out!”

You shoved him to the side only to be sprayed with spores from the flower bulbs. Coughs and wheezes broke uncontrollably from your mouth as you tried to expel what seeped through your kerchief mask. You just hoped that you managed to get most out when you did.

After the little mishap with the flower, your group – much more carefully this time – finally succeeded in setting fire to the tunnels. You ignored the burning in your lungs when it did, especially when you ran back for Mike who got caught by one of the vines as its last resort. Running on instinct, you snatched Steve’s bat and rushed over to the boy.

“Grab him!” you barked at anyone. You stomped the offending vine with the heel of your boot and swung over and over. You screamed and cried out, not knowing whether it was out of aggression or from the burning in your lungs, until Mike was freed and the rest of the vines retreated back to God knows where.

Steve stared at you in awe and slowly approached you, retrieving back his bat but keeping his other hand locked with yours. “That was awesome,” he chuckled, squeezing your entwined fingers.

Unfortunately, the moment didn’t last because a pack of demodogs came barrelling down the tunnels in pursuit of us. Interestingly enough, one of them still managed to listen to Dustin – D’Art. So, he was real... Their reunion and goodbye were enough time to escape to the opening of the tunnel.

Steve climbed out into the farm first, and you began hoisting them up, saving yourself last. You barely managed to get Dustin out, who was putting up a fight to see D’Art until his last moments. Then the strangest thing happened…

The demodogs just stared at you.

It remained that way until they dropped dead, signalling the gate finally being shut.

You were frozen and was only pulled out of your stupor when Steve hoisted you out himself.

The way those monsters clicked and growled at you felt familiar. As if they knew you. Yet you didn’t have to worry about it anymore.

It was over.

#steve harrington x reader #stranger things fanfic #hanahaki au #flayed au #flayed!reader #hanahaki!reader #stranger things angst #steve harrington fanfic

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joonsytip · 2 years ago

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first of all i love ur pfp and tsd and PHEW- selfish indeed! Your writing is amazing so i hope you dont take this as a critique of that bc it's just the Characters i wanna gossip abt heheh. I'm the anon from waaaay back who was team dk and now ive decided....im team OC. maybe in the future when reader has a chance to properly look at dk then yes but hannie is NOT it for her oh my gooooood like i felt like i was rlly watching a drama like, jeonghan 😭 how did you make this poor girl suffer for 2 years bc of ur own complex. Reader wasn't faultless bc she did keep approaching and shoulve put her foot down sooner but tbh jh was too wishy washy with his actions and made it seem like he purposly was trying to go out of his way to hurt her and then oh a week later, he's in love???. I like the cheol part when he gave advice like cheol and jihoon were the MVPs along w chae but srsly. The cheol part gave us more insight into jeonghans side but bro just bc u have some deep hidden repressed feelings doesnt mean u get to treat oc like that thinking its cute. Tsundere is cute, straight up rudeness isn't. Cheol was so right when he put things from reader's perspective like how are u gonna treat reader like a bug for 2 years then turn around and say u love her. Noooooope, its a no from me 😭. I respect what jihoon said the most like reader can be persistent as much as jh wants to get his redemption. Reader hit the nail on the head when she said he doesnt love her, he only loved being pined after, because thats exactly what it is from her perspective because jeonghan seriouslyyyyy fucked up instead of being honest to his feelings or aware. At this point im so pissed off w jh (the fictional one hehe) and i just want reader to be happy. The friendship dynamics in this are the absolute fucking best !!!!!! Seriously the office culture and dynamics in this MADE the story and i lived for it. I just want reader to transfer and live her hot girl life while jeonghan pines and lives in a puddle of regret. He's gonna need to show a lot more sincerity. Right now he's just trying to prove himself, as jihoon said he's just trying to redeem himself by doing all these flashy things that are just making reader question him more and make her feel like shes being mocked. As cheol said, he needs to put himself in her shoes like the underdeveloped eq jh has in this 💀. Goes from i hate you to i love you in a week and wonders why his sincerity didn't reach. i sweaaaaar he frustrates me like nobody else ughhhh the way you made his flawed character was so good like u had me feeling so much anger over a fanfiction 😆. It balanced out so nicely like the cluesless jh and cheol who sees the bigger picture and wants his friends happiness and then reader who is passionate in her love and jihoon who is really mellow but sees everything for what it is. Then we got the trouble makers and office clows along with the dependable friends and bff hao. Hsjsjs soooo many good character, this was such a good cast!!!

I like healing loves and loves that complete you, jh feels more like a puppy crush that makes ur heart race, the kind love that breaks ur heart and u have to learn from- and thats ok! For example, she has a great attraction to jeonghan and went crazy when he wore the red top (goddamn i would too, that chic office wear????) Like jh excited her but a love like dk feels more like home, you know? What i would tell reader if i could is that life is sooo much more than that boy you think is ur first and last love. Sometimes what u really need is ur friends and to enjoy your youth bc this aint it and in my humble opinion jeonghan is not it for her. I know they'll end up together bc its a x jeonghan and this is a fictional world but i took this way too seriously bc i got invested LMAO. Felt like i was in the damn office with soonyoung fighting the copy machine and texting boo seungkwan from the rival office next door about all the drama just to hear his hot takes 😂 I wanna have a sad bitch party with reader and chae and just blast 'you're not sorry' by taylor and then bust her out in a hot outfit for a revenge type plot LMAOOOO the way im sucked into this fanfic you would not believe hahahha. Like reader shows up at the og office after her transfer looking like jeonghans dream girl and she gives him the same treatment he first gave her 😤 the reversallll!! Oh my god and she brought her new coworker, hottie kim mingyu who anyone can see from a mile away is a literal 😍 around her like theyre giving puppy gf x puppy bf and jeonghan is feeling the heat hehehe. As u can see im fucking delusional and ive continued this scenario like its my own life in my head for so many different scenarios LOL.

Thank u for writing and listening to my ramble<333

Gosh. First of all, ANON WE SERIOUSLY NEED TO TALK???? I really loved how you laid out your perspective about the storyline and the character, specially the protagonists.

I do get where your thoughts are coming from and tbh it's a real tough deal to make Jeonghan get his redemption arc coz redem. arcs have always been difficult.

And the way you continued the storyline after the part 2, it's so satisfying actually???

Thanks for dropping by and please keep rambling on me from time to time, I love it! 😂🫶

#the selfish dilemma #joonsytip ask

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thekitchenywitch · 1 year ago

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Package delivered: Secret Santa!

Deuce Spade Edition

i. Invitation

You couldn’t deny that you were excited. After one insane year of dealing with overblots, you could finally rest, and if that wasn’t relaxing enough, you were personally invited by none other than Dilla Spade to spend the winter holidays with her and Deuce. “C’mon, (name)! It’ll be fun with you! Plus it’ll beat spending the break at Ramshackle!” It didn’t take you long to agree. So, you and Grim packed up your things. One step through the Mirror later, you were enveloped in Dilla’s arms in welcome. “I’m so glad you came dear!” Over your shoulder, she smiled at her son, who looked at you softly. “We’re both glad you’re here.”

ii. Decorating

The next few days were sheer bliss.

The day after you arrived, Dilla drove you all to a local tree farm in Clock Town. It was easy to say, between the scent of pine and greenery, you could’ve gotten lost in the farm easily. Luckily, Deuce took it upon himself to escort you, looping his arm through yours and taking his job of ‘finding the holiday tree’ very seriously. When you both found one, he insisted on hitching the tree to the car roof himself. Dilla chuckled to herself at her son being ‘a true gentleman’ but when the tree almost fell on top of Deuce, you decided to intervene.

After wrestling the tree inside the house, you, Deuce, and Grim pulled out every single box containing decorations that Dilla had. You looked inside, suddenly smirking. “Aww, is this you?” You asked, taking out a small frame ornament that had a younger Deuce (missing teeth and the spade over his eye) and his mother, grinning at the camera. Deuce turned pink, grabbing it from you. “N-no…” A small crash interrupted you both, and you looked over at Grim, looking sheepish with a broke glass ball ornament on the ground. “Nya, it was shiny, s’not my fault…”

iii. Gingerbread

By now, the entire house was decorated. You and Deuce lounged on the couch, while Grim snored softly on an armchair. Dilla had went out to do a few last-minute deliveries for work, so the two of you decided to make some hot chocolate while you waited (not forgetting to make her a cup, too). “Y’know, it’s against the rules to not have cookies with these,” you say distractedly, stirring the marshmallows. Deuce’s eyes widened, “w-what? I don’t remember that in the rule book!” He muttered to himself, “I should’ve memorized them better-“ you laughed, cutting him off. “No, no, not literally,” Deuce visibly relaxed. “I just think it’d be nice to have some,” you gazed fondly into your mug. Deuce thought for a bit, then said “who says we can’t?”

So now, your hands were covered with spices and flour, and the entire house smelled like gingerbread. You and Deuce were no Trey Clovers, but you both did a good job following a recipe, at least. While you removed the tray to let the cookies cool, you smiled at Deuce. “Y’know, I wanted to thank you.” Deuce’s eyes widened, “why? If anything I should thank you, I almost put salt instead of sugar. I just did what you told me to, you understood the recipe.” You giggled, “no, not about the cookies, but I couldn’t have lifted that bag of flour without you,” you gazed at him softly, when the front door opened. “I’m back!” Dilla walked in, shaking off her coat while Grim stirred awake. “Nya, is that…!” Eyes sparkling, he bounded to the kitchen. Dilla walked behind him, taking a cookie, “you made gingerbread! It tastes wonderful!” You nodded, “I couldn’t do it without Deuce. He learned a lot under Trey at school.” You didn’t miss Deuce’s proud glow at impressing his mother. Deuce picked up a cookie in both hands, offering one to you with a grin, “Eat up, (name)! We’ve earned this!”

iv. First snow

The morning after, you woke to a strange crunching sound. You rubbed your eyes, looking out the window, and your jaw dropped. “How did it snow so much outside?” You mumbled to yourself, shocked. It had to be about a foot high - and to your surprise, you saw a bundled-up Deuce shoveling it out of the driveway. You threw on your warmest clothes quickly. You opened the door, calling out “Deuce! What’re you doing up so early?! The sun’s not even up!” He huffed, breath clouding, “my mom wants to go into town today, n’ the driveway’s blocked. I thought I’d start early.” You sighed, but felt touched at Deuce’s thoughtfulness. “I’ll help you, then.”

You scraped the ice and snow off of the car while Deuce shoveled the rest of the snow away. Finally, you both rested on the porch, shoulders pressed together, watching the sun slowly rise. Some time later, you pulled him up and were well into making a snowman when Dilla finally woke up, opening the front door. “What are you-“ Dilla stopped, watching the two of you continue without noticing her. Deuce was carrying a large ball of snow while you were poking rocks and sticks into the snowman. Dilla leaned on the doorframe, and couldn’t help but smile as the two of you laughed, now running around and throwing snow at each other.

v. Mistletoe

“Deuce, you should take (name) out to the town square,” Dilla smiled at Deuce. An hour later, the two of you were out on Deuce’s blastcycle, while Grim and Dilla stayed back. The wind ruffled Deuce’s hair, and you nuzzled him softly from behind. Soon enough, you two reached a clock tower with a large arch, and Deuce parked, helping you off. “Such a gentleman,” you teased, and he flushed. You could see the glow of lights up ahead, probably the small holiday town gathering Dilla mentioned to Deuce.

As the two of you walked, Deuce grabbed your arm, looking straight up with a blooming blush. “What?” You asked, slowly looking up until you saw some berries and green leaves hanging from the arch. “I- um…” Deuce gulped, “W-we don’t have to, um-“ you grabbed his hands. “Well, it wouldn’t be good to break the rules, right?” Deuce’s eyes widened, but a small dorkish grin spread on his face. “…guess not, huh?” You responded by pressing your lips again this.

Xoxo, ~your Secret Santa!

Jzhzbshsbdjdbfbxbdbdjjfdjdbdjjddb THANK YOU!!!!!

HAPPY HOLIDAYS SECRET SANTA

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haylorinthewoods · 2 years ago

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Girl, Taylor wrote Question in 2022. He was dating Olivia, and had been for two years. It’s “what’s suitable” because she was a mature adult with two kids.

She wasn’t thinking back of the feeling she had in 2015. She was thinking about him in 2022, like she did in 2020 when she wrote The 1 about him. She fully wanted him to make a move and he didn’t, so she went for Matty, her old rebound from him instead.

There are multiple songs on Midnights that hint at her being in a bad spot with Joe. If Harry had called her up she would’ve jumped, but he didn’t. Things with Joe were over, and Matty had been pining for her for years, so she took the chance and is now desperately trying to convince herself that she’s happy and this is what she wanted all along, which is why she tried to make question about him (and other Harry and Joe songs).

Idek if she actually had feelings for Harry last year or now or if she was overwhelmed by the relationship she thought she’d be in forever (Joe) crumbling, and looking back at Harry.

The thing about Taylor and Harry’s relationship, is that even though it was long, it never lost the lavender haze she loves so much. That period of infatuation. Because they could never be a proper couple for long, they would come in and out of each other’s lives so the level of intensity and passion was high throughout. Taylor is someone who loves love and loves that feeling and chases it. She also is very insistent about avoiding therapy, so how would she learn emotional intelligence?

When things get tough in her long term very real relationship, looking back at the one that was always good, at the one that ended because of outside sources, at that one guy that was still pining for you years later, and wondering “what if we could get it right now? What if he could get me out of this relationship that’s run its course and I could avoid the heartache that comes with separating from a serious partner by focusing my attention on someone else? And who better than HIM?” makes perfect sense.

And then for whatever reason he just doesn’t. So she looks for the next best thing. Whether Harry realized that’s what the song was for or not, idk. Maybe he did but decided it wasn’t smart. He’d alreddy been that person for Olivia AND for Camille. And Harry is actually in therapy so I would hope he can realize that the next person he dates needs to have their shit sorted before going into a relationship.

Taylor hasn’t grieved Joe. She was mad as hell singing Better Man and Should’ve Said No one day then saying she was the happiest she’d ever been the next. She’s trying to fool us (for why?!) AND herself. I really hope this whole thing ends soon and she finally does some therapy because it’s seriously not healthy.

This must be the fanfic that the Matty fan was talking about.

I disagree 100%. With everything you said.

#this is just……TOO MUCH #you’re thinking about it too much

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kazumist · 2 years ago

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TAKE A CHANCE WITH ME .ᐟ

✩ — childe had always told you he liked you, but you never took his words seriously and dismissed them as his antics. however, after seven years of pining, can he prove to you that he's actually serious about his feelings? (or in which childe wants you to have a chance with him.)

✩ — childe x gn!reader. best friends to lovers trope. fluff, and uhm angst if u squint. no cws. wc: 784. reblogs and feedback are appreciated !!

✩ — zhongli was mentioned for no reason at all tbh. reader isn't oblivious btw it's more like indenial i think idk theyre complicated lol but yea you'll get it once u read it,, a proper drabble for this ramble i did back then :]

childe had told you numerous times that he had liked you for as long as you had known him. he always slips it into the conversation, even if it's completely off-topic. if you could get a penny every time childe says he likes you, then you'd be pretty rich right now.

it's not that you doubted his words (well, okay, maybe you do have a bit of doubt); it's more like you always thought that it was just another one of his antics. though you don't actually know if he's serious with what he says on this matter, you just dismiss it as childe teasing once again.

you and childe had this thing on fridays where you’d watch movies together. it’s a new movie every week unless you both agree to rewatch something. and while sitting on his couch, it isn’t any different. childe has said that he likes you about two times now, both with that cheeky grin he usually wears when he's teasing you.

(you wondered about it at some point—what if it's all true? maybe the reason he confesses in this way is to make it less awkward, and he could take it back if he ever gets rejected? you wouldn't really know, not when you can't keep count of the "i like you"s that childe has told you the whole time you have known him.

but one question always stuck in the back of your mind: who are you to childe? or rather—who is childe to you?

if you were to ask that of someone else, they’d say that you’re his best friend—the most obvious answer. you two have been inseparable ever since you met. however, the term best friend for him didn’t sit well with you.)

the movie was paused due to your quick bathroom break, and as you were going back, you were telling childe about the time zhongli forgot his wallet while you two were out buying materials for your project. but by the time you sat back down, childe looked troubled—agitated, even.

you called his name once or twice, yet there was no response. it wasn’t until you snapped your fingers in front of childe’s face that he snapped out of his thoughts.

"hey, you look pretty bothered; should we ditch the movie for this week?" you asked him.

but he didn’t answer; instead, he asked, "i know this is sudden, but... did you at least believe me once?"

you were speechless. what did he mean by that? surely he isn’t referring to that, right? (even if you wanted to not believe it, deep inside you knew what he was talking about.) you knew this would be a topic between the two of you sooner or later, but you didn’t expect to have this conversation now, of all times.

however, if you were to answer yes, you did believe it. you did, you did, you did—you believed all of it.

despite your lack of response, childe continued on. "i guess you didn't. i mean, it's okay. i guess my confessions didn't really seem sincere to you which is understandable."

"childe." you called.

"i mean, who would actually believe a guy who randomly confesses in the middle of a conversation? and the fact that i did it countless times? god, why did i do that? i'm stupid, aren’t i?"

"childe."

"i'm sorry, i really should've been more sincere at least once—"

"childe!" he shuts up immediately.

before you could actually say anything else, childe spoke up again.

"i love you."

in the seven years that he has loved you, childe has never felt this impatient. he never felt this suffocated from all the feelings he kept for you this whole time.

he expected the silence you gave him again, but his chest felt lighter now that he managed to say those three words. although the silence stings and now there’s a tense atmosphere between you both, childe has never felt any better.

on the other hand, you were still processing it all. you were asking yourself again: who is childe to you? he’s your best friend, of course. you love him—

oh.

you love him. you love childe, and he loves you. but it was no ordinary love between friends; it was a love that was more than friends could ever share. and it all came crashing to you that, truly, a universe without childe by your side would be mundane.

"i love you too," you finally replied.

"take a chance with me?"

a small nod is all what childe needs as a sign to kiss you.

there’s really no one else in the world with whom you’d rather fall in love except for him.

#( writings )#astronetwrk #favoniuslibrary #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin imagines #childe x reader #childe fluff #childe #I HATE HOW I STARTED THE CONFESSION SCENE GOD #but idk how else to write it im so sorry #i didnt do my delusions any justice #i hate this post so much actually but here i am posting it anyways #i cant bring myself to delete it bc after a month i finally finished the draft like ?#im not letting my hard work be wasted by myself LOLLLL #pls do send some feedback pls pls pls i need to know how was the impact from others

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crowleesi · 3 years ago

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Take On Me | Eddie Munson x OC | Part Three

♡ part one ♡ | ♡ part two ♡ | ♡ part four ♡ | ♡ part five ♡

summary: Blake Walker and Eddie Munson are worlds apart, but when she finds herself in detention with the high school “freak”, she realises that he isn’t the monster people had always made him out to be.

word count: 3k

warnings: some explicit language, but an overwhelming amount of mutual pining and fluff :)

author’s note: thank you to everyone that has read parts one and two! i'm loving writing these two together <3

⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻

Blake had spent the weekend on a high, and by the time Monday morning rolled around, she’d woken with a spring in her step and butterflies in her stomach. She couldn’t wait to see Eddie again; there was barely a moment over the last two days in which she wasn’t thinking about him, and the weekend had felt far too long without him.

She’d looked for him after getting to the parking lot at school that morning, but other than his van parked up in the corner, there was no sign of him. Disappointed, she’d headed to class, willing time to go faster - and finally, when the bell rang for lunch, she headed to the cafeteria and there he was: brilliant, beautiful and vibrant at the head of the Hellfire table. Her heart started racing, and she felt a blush crawl up her neck as she neared the table. She tried to play it cool, but damn near lost her composure when his eyes found her and a smile slowly spread across his lips. God, she’d missed him.

It took her a moment to realise she’d stopped in her tracks, and quickly pulled her gaze away from him as she turned to her usual table, taking her seat beside Nicole and opposite Carole and Tommy. They stopped talking as she sat down, and she eyed them suspiciously.

“What?” She said, and Carole and Tommy looked at each other.

“Steph saw you at the movies on Friday night.” Tommy says, and Blake shifts in her seat. "Since when do you hang out with the freak?"

"Seriously uncool." Carole said from across the table, and Blake sighs.

"Can you not call him that?" She says, frowning at them.

"What else do we call him? Look at him," Tommy says, looking over to the Hellfire Club table, where Eddie was telling a story and had the others in fits of laughter with his wild gesticulating and dramatic voices. Blake smiled.

"He's so weird." Nicole says, and Blake's smile falls.

"Seriously, what if he did something to you?" Carole says, and Blake sighs.

"Like what, exactly?" She asks impatiently.

"I don't know what kind of weird, culty shit he's into." Carole says back, and Blake stares at her.

"He wouldn't do any-"

"Don't get defensive," Tommy cuts in. "We're just looking out for you."

"Yeah, and you hanging out with him? Not a good look." Nicole says, and Blake frowns at her.

"He's actually a really great guy once you get to know him." She says, and they scoff.

“Careful,” Carole says, setting her fork down on her tray and leaning her forearms on the table. “You wouldn't want people to think you're a freak too, would you?” Blake blinks at her, swallowing thickly and looks down at her food, pushing the corn around with her fork.

She pushes down the anger she felt bubbling inside, hearing them say such awful things about Eddie. She began to wonder why she hung out with these guys - Steve Harrington didn't even hang out with them anymore, and he was once the most popular guy in school and had been friends with Tommy for years. He spent most of his time with Robin Buckley now, who Blake adored - she was funny, witty, expressive and uncommonly kind. Blake always enjoyed hanging out with them, far more than the likes of Tommy, Carole and Nicole - but found herself sitting with this group for lunch every single day, through habit more than anything else.

They'd had some good times over the years, sure; countless parties, trips to the shopping mall and gatherings at Lover's Lake. Sometimes they'd get together with the basketball team, where she'd stick with Chrissy who was by far the sweetest and kindest of them all. She often wondered why Chrissy hung out with them at all, but would rarely dwell on it too long without having to look inward.

Once senior year hit, Blake had started spending more time with Steve and Robin outside of school - they were fun, down to earth and genuinely good people. She found herself glancing around the cafeteria, then, in hopes of spotting her friends but they were nowhere to be seen. She sighed again, wishing she could just head out to the parking lot, where she’d no doubt find Steve and Robin sitting on the hood of his car.

But instead, she remained seated, and didn't say another word.

From his seat at the head of the Hellfire table, Eddie had been watching, jaw clenched and arms folded tightly across his chest. Gareth had taken over the conversation, and Eddie had turned his attention to Blake and those assholes she called her friends. He didn't understand why she associated herself with such shitty people, and he watched as her spark dulled and she shrank into herself, his blood damn near boiling. She should be happy, full of laughter, her eyes sparkling like they were at the movie theatre; not sinking under the weight of their judgement.

♡

A short while later, Blake was out in the field running track. It was a cool day despite the clear skies and sunshine, and although she tried desperately to push away thoughts of the cafeteria - of the ugly things that were said about Eddie - she couldn’t help but go over the conversation again and again. She pushed herself to run harder, faster; she was frustrated, confused. She didn’t know what had come over her, why all of a sudden her friends left a bad taste in her mouth; it felt as though something had shifted and there was only one reason why.

Eddie Munson.

As she ran by the bleachers, loud raucous laughter caught her attention, and she slowed to a jog when she realised Eddie and his friends were seated at the top. She made her way over to the railing, climbing up onto the bleachers, trying to catch her breath.

“Blake,” Eddie announced from where he sat, legs spread in front of him as he leaned back on the next bleacher. “Hey.” She stood, hands on her hips, breathing heavily.

“Hi,” Was all she managed, and Eddie tilted his head, lips curling up.

“Guys, you know Blake,” He says, and they nod. “Blake, this is Gareth, Jeff and Grant.” He gestures to each of them, and Blake waves a hand.

“Hey,” She says, and Eddie sits forward, leaning his forearms on his knees.

“Now, don't worry guys, Blake’s not a complete asshole like her friends.” He says, and she crosses her arms over her chest.

“They’re not that bad, Eddie.” She says as though on autopilot, and he snorts. Gareth and Jeff snicker from either side of him.

“I beg to differ.” He says. "Last week, Tommy shoved Grant into his locker for no good reason." Blake shifts on her feet as Grant nodded.

"He pushed my tray off the table last month." Jeff says, and Blake swallows hard.

"Carole and Nicole are really mean." Gareth says, and Eddie holds up his hands.

"See?" He looked at her with challenging eyes. "You look me in the eye and tell me they're not a bunch of total assholes." She stares at him, clenching her jaw, and Eddie grinned.

"I rest my case." He says, and she tuts.

"Smug's not a good look on you, Munson." She says, and he smirks.

"Baby, everything is a good look on me." She rolls her eyes and smiles, finding herself blushing. She turns to lean on the railing and Eddie gets to his feet, stepping down off the bleachers and leans against the railing at her side.

"People are gonna talk, y'know." He says, looking out over the track. She looks at him.

"What?"

"You keep hanging out with me and people are gonna talk." When she doesn't say anything, he looks at her. "They'll find out you're a freak like me, if you're not careful." She laughs.

"Is that right?" He grins.

"Afraid so." She hums.

"They had to find out sooner or later, right?" She says, and he chuckles. She nudges his shoulder with hers, then ducks under the railing and hops back down onto the track.

"See you later, Munson." She says, calling out to the others. "Bye, guys!" They all wave and she starts walking down the track.

"Hey, Walker!" Eddie calls, and she turns. He grins. "Love the shorts." She looks down at the little green shorts she was adorning, and blushes. She looks back up at him and he winks, leaving her weak in the knees. She flips him the bird as she starts to walk backwards, and he pretends to catch it and put it in his pocket.

She turns away and starts jogging, a wry smile on her lips.

Eddie watches her, licking his bottom lip and biting it, tapping on the railing before turning back to step up the bleachers.

"She's nice." Gareth says, and Jeff and Grant nod.

"Yeah," Grant says. "She seems cool."

"It's weird, right?" Jeff says, and Eddie raises an eyebrow at him.

"What?" He asks, and Jeff gives him an incredulous look.

"You don't think it's weird that someone as popular as Blake Walker is so nice to us? Nice to you?" He asks, and Eddie shrugs.

"She's not like the others." He says, and they all look at each other. "Shut up." He says, and Gareth frowns.

"We didn't say anyth-"

"Shut up." He says again, taking a seat and looking out over the track, watching Blake running on the far side.

♡

The next week drags by slowly and Blake barely sees Eddie, let alone speaks to him. They pass in the hall, sharing knowing smiles and she hates to admit to herself that she is starting to ache with how desperately she misses him. She couldn't believe how badly she wanted to be with him, all the fucking time.

On Monday afternoon, she left her last class of the day alone, headphones firmly over her ears. She unlocked her car, threw her bag into the passenger seat and took her headphones off just as she heard her name being called. She turned to find Eddie jogging towards her, and she positively beamed at him.

"Eddie, hey," she says, and he breathed a little heavy as he reached her.

"Hey," he says, hands on his hips. He simply smiled at her for a moment, a little breathless, before asking, "How you doin'?" She looked down at the keys in her hands, twisting them between her fingers.

"I'm good," she says, and looks back up into his big, brown eyes. "You?" He licks his lips, nodding, chest easing somewhat.

"Yeah, I'm good." He was smiling so brightly at her, dimples and all; she completely and utterly melted.

"I feel like I haven't seen you in forever." She says, and he ruffles his hair.

"I know," he says. "It's been a busy week." She nods. Silence fills the air between them, and he chuckles nervously.

"Listen, I've gotta get to band practice, but, uh," he licks his bottom lip. "Can I call you later?" She smiles, feeling heat fill her cheeks, and she nods.

"Sure." She says, trying desperately to play it cool as she turns to her car, reaching for her bag and rifling through its contents for a pen. "Give me your hand."

Eddie tried to ignore the way his heart skipped a beat when she gently took his hand, her skin as soft as he'd always imagined. He couldn't take his eyes off her, only looking down when she stepped back, offering him a smile. She'd written her phone number on the back of his hand, adding Blake :) underneath. He chuckled.

"Alright," He says, stepping back and saluting her. "I'll call you."

All she can do is smile as she tries to maintain her composure, watching him walk away.

She was ashamed to admit she waited by the phone that night; unable to focus on her homework without checking the time, fidgeting through dinner and glancing at the clock, when he finally called just before 8pm. She calls out to her parents that she's got it and grabs the phone in her room, answering quickly.

"Hello?"

"Blake?" Eddie's voice sounds, and she beams.

"Hey," She could hear the smile in her voice, and hoped he didn't pick up on it too much.

He did.

"Hey, you." He says. "How's it goin'?" She sat on her bed.

"Good…" She trails off, glancing at the untouched homework on her desk. "You're actually saving me from biology homework right now." He chuckles.

"I'm glad to be of service."

"How was practice?" She asks.

"It was great-" he says, cutting off to a sudden loud crash. "Ah, shit." She giggles.

“You okay?”

"Yeah, fine, just tryin' to do shit one handed isn't workin' out so well." She smiles, picturing him clumsily trying to navigate his kitchen. "Hang on a sec," he says, and she can hear him fumbling with the phone, another crashing sound and some muffled cursing, then the phone being picked up again. "Alright, I'm back."

"What are you doing?" She asks bemused, and he chuckles.

"Trying to cook some noodles. I'm fucking starving."

"You're not supposed to destroy your entire kitchen in the process, Eddie." She says, and he snorts.

"Yeah, no shit." She giggles, and lays back on her bed. "Where were we?" He asks.

"Band practice." She says, and he hums.

"Right! It was great. We've been working on a new song and it's sounding pretty good."

"You've been together for a while, right?"

"Yeah, since middle school." She smiles, a core memory hitting her suddenly.

"Corroded Coffin." She says.

"Yes!" The excitement in his voice makes her laugh. "You remember."

"Of course I do! How could I forget Eddie Munson totally shredding his guitar on the stage of the talent show?" He laughs. "You were so different then." He hums.

"Yeah, I didn't have this majestic head of hair yet."

"Don't forget the tattoos."

"Of course," She smiles.

"How many do you have now?" She asks.

"Uh," he pauses. "Five."

"Really? I think I've only seen a couple." She muses, thinking of the bats tattooed below his elbow and struggling to picture the one on the inside of his forearm.

"I'll give you the full tour next time I see you." He says boldly, and she blushes. Was he flirting with her? She lets out a giggle, and he smiles, scooping some noodles into his mouth. "I fuckin' love noodles, man." He says between chews, and she snorts.

"They're alright," she says, and he makes a noise of protest.

"Walker!" He scolds. "Noodles are so much more than just alright!"

“If you say so.” She teases, and he scoffs.

“I’m just gonna have to take you to my favourite place in town, show you what you’re missing.” He says. “It’ll rock your world.” She snorts.

“I look forward to it.”

Eddie sits on the floor, phone sandwiched between his ear and his shoulder, eating his noodles straight out of the pan.

"Hey, I wanted to talk to you about something."

"What's up?"

"Your friends." He says. "How did that happen?" She laughs.

"What do you mean?"

"It's just," he pauses. "You're nothing like them. It doesn't make sense, y'know?" She sighs gently.

“I met them through Chrissy,” She says. “We’ve been friends since we were kids, and I guess I just ended up hanging out with whoever Chrissy hung out with.” He hums, and she can hear the fork hitting the pan.

“Chrissy seems nice.” He says, and something twinges in Blake’s heart. She pauses.

"You could argue that we don't make sense, either." She says, and he's quiet for a moment.

"I guess," he says. "I don't believe that, though." She smiles.

“Neither do I.”

Blake doesn’t know how many hours go by as they talk about anything and everything; she comes to realise that nobody has ever made her laugh the way Eddie does. She also discovers that nobody listens to her the way he does, and when she finds herself yawning, snuggling into her bed and cradling the phone, he tells her to get some sleep and her heart sinks.

"Can I be honest?" She asks quietly, and he hums. "I don't want to hang up." Eddie smiles, and is quiet for a moment. "Eddie?" She says.

"I'm here." He says, and she bites her lip. "I don't want to, either." She closes her eyes, picturing his face, wishing he was right there with her. Then, she yawns again, and he chuckles.

“Get some sleep, Blake.” He says affectionately. “I’ll see you in the morning.” Reluctantly, she forces herself to sit up.

“Fine,” She says, swinging her legs over the side of the bed. "Night, Eddie."

"Goodnight, sweetheart." He says, and her heart absolutely leaps in her chest at his use of a pet name. She doesn't hang up, desperate to hear his voice just one more time.

"Goodnight." She says, and he chuckles.

"Go on, hang up." She smiles.

"Okay."

"Sweet dreams." He says, and she bites her lip.

"You too." And with that, she ends the call, holding the phone to her chest for a moment. She sighed, placing the phone back in the receiver, and flopped back onto her bed, his voice still ringing in her ears.

Eddie set the phone back onto the receiver, leaning against the wall. He smiled at the phone for a moment, before turning to the empty living room, a sinking feeling in his stomach. Being alone never bothered him; his uncle had worked nights for as long as he could remember, but after hanging up the call, everything was suddenly so quiet without her sweet voice and soft giggles.

He heads into his room, kicking the door shut behind him and pulling off his clothes. He lazily tosses them on the floor, sinking into his bed and staring up at the ceiling with a sigh.

⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻

Tag list♡ @eruroraiito @magicalchocolatecheesecake @eddington-munson @bitchynicole @unluckyopossum @munsonmadness @sassycomcbook @captainkidd929 @stardancerluv @eddiemsrings @maryan028 @arkhamasylumpatient-blog1

♡ lmk if you want to be tagged in the next part!

#eddie munson #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x oc #eddie munson x reader #stranger things fic #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #stranger things fluff #take on me

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izziebeex · 3 years ago

Text

My nerd of a neighbour {chapter one} || e.m

summary: Eddie really needs to get his priorities in check if he wants to graduate this year, but he’s in need of someone who is going to keep him accountable. So, he asks the smartest girl he can think of. Although hesitant at first, she soon agrees. But she’s nothing like what Eddie had imagined. pairing: Eddie Munson x fem!reader word count: 2.1k ish genre/tropes: unknown mutual pining, straight A student x freak. warnings: use of y/n, not exactly following plot so just ignore that lol, nothing else really but next part will have more warnings. NOT PROOF READ!! author’s note: this is my first fic and I really hope that you enjoy it. I’m still grieving and I think we all are, so maybe I can provide a sort of comfort in this time of deep sadness :(

{chapter two}

y/n was walking through the darkened halls of Hawkins High. It was after hours and she had just finished researching in the library for a horrid english midterm she had coming up. The school was eerily calm for that particular day of the week. She knew that the Hellfire Club always met on Thursday nights, but as she walked the hall where the drama room resided she couldn’t help but wonder where the members were… not that she cared or anything.

Y/n looked through the window on the art covered door. She couldn’t see anything except for a large table covered in papers and knick-knacks, as well as a large throne seated at the end. The odd environment was enough to catch her attention, so she decided to go in. The dim lights and cluttered shelves around the room gave it a creepy nature, and y/n couldn’t help but feel as though she was being watched; although she couldn’t see anything lurking in the shadows. She stepped over to the table in a cautious manner and took notice of the small figurines decorating the surface. Characters she assumed. There was a folder standing up near the end with the throne and y/n couldn’t help but wonder what was behind it. She was curious enough to walk around to the end of the table. But you know what they say; curiosity killed the cat…

“It’s not cool to snoop, y’know?”

Y/n shrieked as she turned toward the unexpected voice.

There, standing in all his glory, was Eddie ‘The Freak’ Munson. Long, dark, unruly hair draping his shoulders. Leather jacket and denim vest hanging from his figure. Not that she was particularly interested in the way he looked… Y/n was just observant.

Okay, that was a huge lie. She absolutely thought he was attractive. He was very handsome, and equally as beautiful. With his big puppy-dog eyes and shit-eating grin, he was the most visually appealing man y/n had ever laid eyes on — although she would never admit this. She had a reputation to uphold. She was a straight A student, plowing her way through the rest of the student body and on her way to becoming Valedictorian. Y/n would never tell about her crush on Eddie Munson. No matter how insignificant and minute she thought it was. She had better, more important things to focus on.

She would never end up like her parents. Ever.

“Shit! Were you seriously watching me that entire time!?”

“Pretty much,” Eddie replied, unfazed by y/n’s outburst. “What are you doing here anyways?”

“I was in the library working on my English midterm. Why are you here alone? Don’t you and your club meet here on Thursdays?” y/n questioned the boy.

“Everyone else left already. We finished our campaign 20 minutes ago. Why ya wonderin’, sweetheart?” Eddie teased with a playful grin.

She countered with a displeased look.

God, she hated when he called her that. At least that’s what she told herself. In the very few real encounters they’d had, he had already reserved her a nickname.

“Sorry I interrupted. I’ll leave you to your devil worship,” y/n said in a sarcastic tone. In return she only got a smirk.

Y/n scoffed and marched to the door. She tugged the handle and walked out, only stopping when she heard him speak again.

“Wait!” he yelled from inside and she turned to show him her unimpressed look.

Eddie just stood there unsure of how to continue. Y/n raised her eyebrows as a sign for him to start talking.

“You’re smart, right? Well, of course you’re smart,” he shook his head. “It’s just that-” he paused.

Now y/n was just plain confused.

Eddie sighed, then continued. “Look, I’m failing almost all of my classes. I just can’t seem to understand any of it, even though I’ve taken all the classes before. But I need to graduate this year. Finally get out of this shithole,” he laughed. “I need someone to help me. I’m not one to admit defeat, but AP English and Spanish 1 have been kicking my ass for three years now,” he lifted his head to look at her. She was losing patience and he knew it. He took a deep breath and finally popped the question. “What I’m really trying to ask, is will you be my tutor for the rest of the semester?”

The expression on her face was blank. So blank that he almost cowered. But in her head, everything was a jumbled mess.

He wants me to be his tutor?

Out of every decently intelligent in this school, he thought of me?

Is this some sort of joke?

Is he poking fun at me because I’m a killjoy who never had any fun?

“Why me?” was all y/n could come up with.

“Cause you’re the smartest person at this school and I kinda need all the help I can get,” Eddie said matter-of-factly.

Y/n stood there for a second, soaking up what he had just asked of her. She was unsure if being Eddie’s tutor was really a good idea. It really didn’t seem like it. But, on the other hand, he seemed desperate to graduate. Let’s face it, he was a triple-senior. Oh sweet Jesus, here we go.

“Okay,” y/n replied blandly.

“That’s okay, I get it. You have other- wait! Did you say okay!?” Eddie seemed surprised. Did she really come off as that rude?

“Yea I said okay,” she said, a little disheartened if she was being honest.

“O-okay. That’s great! Thank you! You won’t regret this, I promise,” Eddie said excitedly. Although y/n was close to certain she would regret her decision.

“I guess I’ll see you tomorrow then, Munson,” y/n said, seemingly very tired.

“Y-yeah. Yeah, I’ll see you tomorrow,” Eddie replied, still in shock.

Y/n walked to the door, turning to throw Eddie a small smile when he wished her a goodnight. And with that, she walked down the hall towards the exit of the school. She went home to lay in bed, only to fall asleep to worries of what the next few months would bring.

——————————————————————————

The next day at school was mind-numbingly uneventful. But hey! At least it was Friday. Morning AP English classes and Advanced Functions didn’t really pique her interest, no matter how much the people around her thought it did.

Lunch was boring, as always. Y/n’s nose stuck in a book, Return of the King to be exact, oblivious to the pair of eyes staring at her from across the cafeteria.

“Hey. You okay, man?” Dustin Henderson asked from his spot to the left of Eddie.

“Yeah, I’m good,” Eddie replied, disconnected from the conversation.

Dustin could see clearly who his Dungeon Master was gazing at. And I’m all honesty, he wasn’t surprised. He had seen Eddie looking in y/n’s direction before, though he would never bring this up in conversation.

“Why are you staring at her like that?” the kid questioned.

“At who and like what?” Eddie said, acting clueless.

“At y/n, like she’s Princess Leia in a gold bikini,” Dustin replied, although he knew full well Eddie knew what he was talking about.

This statement caught attention of the remaining members of the Hellfire Club. They all looked between Dustin and Eddie with the utmost curiosity.

“Y/n? As in straight A student, on her way to becoming Valedictorian y/n?” Mike pondered, surprised yet confused.

“What you got a crush on of somethin’?” Jeff asked, laugh.

“Holy hell! Just imagine that! The freak and the priss!” Gareth added dramatically, beginning to cackle as well.

“Don’t call her that,” Eddie said, obviously frustrated by what was going on at his table.

“Come on, man. You know I’m not wrong. She’s a total priss,” Gareth said chuckling.

“Shut it, man! Okay? Don’t talk about her like that,” Eddie said, defending y/n.

“Jeez, chill out, dude,” Gareth told him, quite frankly a little frightened by Eddie’s outburst.

Eddie gave him an incredulous look. He needed to blow off some steam, and he knew the perfect spot not too far into the woods.

Eddie sat down on the bench of the picnic table, opened his metal lunchbox, and fished out a joint he had rolled the previous night but never smoked. Lighting it up, he brought it to his mouth and inhaled. The high came fairly quick — this stuff was good — and Eddie sat in the clearing until he heard the school bell they always listened to at the end of last period.

Had he really smoked all through the last three periods of the day?

Yeah, he finished the first joint, and had to roll two more before he felt satisfied. But, man, he had really lost track of time. Not to mention he used the pot he had planned on dealing out. Oh well.

Then he remembered. He packed up his drugs and hauled ass out of the woods, across the parking lot, and into the hallways of Hawkins High. He didn’t know which locker it was, so he was looking every which way trying to find what he was looking for.

He had to catch her before she left.

Rising up to stand in his toes, he saw her at one of the last lockers on the right. She was grabbing books from inside, stuffing them into her book bag. He was rushing through the crowd, shoving students out of his way, in an effort to get to her before she went home.

To say the least, y/n was surprised when she saw Eddie. Distressed and out of breath, standing next to her locker.

“Hey,” he said with an awkward smile.

“Hi?” y/n responded. She was a little confused to why he was at her locker.

“So… umm, uh. When are we- uhh, gonna do this? Y’know, study?,” Eddie stuttered, obviously nervous to ask.

“Oh, um, well I’m free tonight if that works for you,” y/n responded in a small voice, almost embarrassed that she was actually his tutor.

“Alright, yeah! I’m free tonight, that works. But, uhh, my uncle is having some buddies over for beers, sooo… can we do it at your place?” Eddie hated himself for asking. He was the one who needed the help, but he was asking her to study at her place? He felt like an asshole.

“Yeah, sure. My place is fine,” y/n told him, soft and quiet.

“A-alright, awesome. That’s great,” Eddie said, chuckling.

But what he didn’t know, was that while he was beating himself up for asking her to study at her place, she was having a mental war. Weighing her options. On one hand, she didn’t want anyone anywhere near where she lived. She didn’t want to reveal what her life was really like. But on the other, he really needed the help. He’d been repeating the same classes for the past three years, and he was desperate to graduate. Of course she said yes. She couldn’t resist his pleas.

With all the courage and dignity she had left, she reached into her locker to grab a piece of paper and tore off the corner. Using her pen, that was running out of ink, she wrote her phone number and address. Then shoved the folded piece of paper into Eddie’s hand.

“That’s my phone and address, be there by 5. If you need anything just call, okay?” y/n said, compromising all privacy in her home life.

With that, she booked it to the exit and out to her car, wanting desperately not to see his reaction to the note she handed him.

Back inside, Eddie was taken aback by her hurried bluntness. But at least he was getting the help, right? Curious to where he would have to take his van after school, he unfolded the piece of torn paper.

Property number 14, Forest Hills Trailer Park

Beige trailer, with a red Chevy Cavalier out front.

260-478-9107

Eddie couldn’t believe his eyes. There was no way in hell she lived in the trailer park. But was she really the type of person to lie like that? Surely not.

“I guess I’ll find out at 5,” Eddie whispered in a hushed breath.

Then he headed to his van, mind clouded with confusion and… fear?

——————————————————————————

!!PLEASE READ!!

author’s note 2.0: gonna make this a series. Turns out I get carried away and end up writing too much. I’ll still write other fics while working on upcoming chapters, but the issue is, I don’t know what to write. So I’m gonna allow requests. I’ll write for quite a few fandoms. So just request something if you would like. I really hope you liked the first part of this series!! Idk when the next chapter will be out bc I’m on vacation, but I’ll try to get it out by Wednesday :))

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #joe quinn #joseph quinn #stranger things #st5 #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fanfic #eddie x reader #eddie stranger things #eddie my beloved #eddie the freak munson #eddie x y/n

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edwardskhakipants · 4 years ago

Text

Forks, Washington. August 2004.

Esme and Carlisle stood in the middle of their grand living room, waiting for their five vampire children to arrive. Alice arrived first—prompt as usual. She settled herself gracefully onto the tufted sofa Esme had recently acquired, only to be immediately jostled by Emmett who heaved himself onto the cushions. A breath caught in Esme’s throat—she had lost many pieces from her beloved collection by that action—but it looked like this one was still in one piece. For the moment. Jasper took Edward’s normal spot in the only armchair, forcing Edward to wedge himself between Alice and Emmett.

“What?” Rosalie grumbled as she perched on the armrest of the couch beside Emmett, “Are we having another one of those How to Respect the Telepath in Your Life meetings again?”

“No,” Edward answered, fully aware of the intent of this meeting since it hatched in Carlisle's mind two days prior. “But there’s never a bad time to bring that up. Christ, Emmett, if you’re going to have a song stuck in your head for over seventy-two hours, the least you can do is learn the correct lyrics.”

Emmett’s eyebrows knit together, asking his brother a silent question.

“It’s ‘mulatto, an albino, a mosquito, my libido,’” Edward answered.

Emmett’s brow furrowed doubtfully.

“No.” Edward shook his head, answering Emmett’s thoughts. “Why would he eat a beetle?”

Emmett grinned playfully and tilted his head towards Edward.

Edward wasn’t amused. “You know what it means.”

A silly grin plastered on his face, Emmett elbowed Edward in the ribs, silently egging him on.

Edward’s eyes darted to Carlisle, then Esme, and he shifted in his seat. “Sexual desire,” he muttered.

Emmett howled with laughter and clapped his hands once, “Wow, Eddie! You’re just going to say that in front of Esme!?” Edward scowled as Emmett’s bouts of laughter echoed through the room.

Esme ran a hand through her youngest’s ginger hair. “Boys,” she warned, and Emmett sucked in his laughter.

“Our meeting today has to do with all of you,” Carlisle began.

“We simply wanted to go over the rules of attending school with you kids before you start your second year at Forks High School,” Esme explained, unfolding and re-folding her hands in front of her. “There are already whispers, and we don’t want those whispers to turn into rumors.”

“I thought the only whispers about us at school were whether or not Edward liked girls,” Rosalie said, earning an eye-roll from Edward.

“No,” Alice chirped,” Some kids think we’re a cult.”

Jasper leaned back heavily in his chair. “We haven’t heard that one since the Seventies.”

“Kids are getting more creative these days.” Emmett nodded appreciatively.

Esme held up one, delicate finger. “Which is why it is best to take preventative action.”

Carlisle took the floor. “We thought a few reminders would be helpful before you started your first day of your second year,” Carlisle said. “We don’t want another incident like the one we had at the end of last year.”

Every head in the room turned towards Emmett.

“What?” Emmett threw up his hands in exasperation, “The water gun fight was the senior prank—I wasn’t the one who brought them to the school. Hell, I wasn’t even the only student who got suspended!”

“That’s true,” Carlisle agreed, “but you were the only student to shout, ‘Sit down, kids! Daddy’s gotta tinkle,’ and shoot the stream of the gun from your crotch.”

Jasper snickered—the sound was immediately silenced by a single raised eyebrow from Esme.

“I still don’t see the problem,” Emmett continued, “That’s not necessarily a vampire thing.”

Edward—who often mistook himself as the third vampire parent rather than the youngest son—sighed, “Yes, but it brings unnecessary attention to the family. Which is the first rule: do not bring attention to yourself.”

Esme ran her fingers through her son’s hair once more, “Yes, darling, you are especially good at keeping to yourself.” Edward’s eyes widened, despite Esme’s gentle touch, already aware of where her point was headed. “So much so, that I have been given the names of several child therapists to help my son through his depression. One was recommended for his exceptional work on spotting and treating the early signs of sociopathic behavior.”

Esme grabbed her son’s chin and forced him to look at her. “You have to talk to other people.”

Knocked off his high horse, Edward flinched back from Esme’s hand. “Friendship with humans never bodes well for us.”

“We’re not asking you to create lifelong friendships with humans,” Carlisle clarified, “We are simply asking you to be likable.”

“A nearly impossible feat for Edward.” Rosalie grinned. The comment went unnoticed, save Edward’s slight flinch. But the quick, little tick was satisfying enough for Rose.

“Look at your father,” Esme gestured towards Carlisle, “At every hospital he works at, he goes out of his way to ensure he is well-liked among his colleagues. He forces down countless lunches and coffees, solely to make sure they’re comfortable around him.”

Carlisle took over. “And your mother, a beloved member of her gardening club and a prized member of the PTA.”

“And neither of us have rumors started about us, and do you know why?”

All five teenagers grumbled the ingrained response. “Humans don’t want to spread rumors about people they like.”

“Exactly.” Esme nodded.

“I try!” Alice whined, “But Edward never lets me talk to any humans.”

“That’s because every, single thing that is about to come out of your mouth is incriminating. You might as well walk around with a neon sign that says, ‘I’m a psychic vampire’.”

Alice scoffed, “Is not!”

“You wanted to tell Nihal Howard not to audition for the musical.”

“And he broke his leg on opening night,” Alice challenged.

“You were going to tell Christiana Ward that pink was not her color.”

“And she lost prom queen to Ashley Kirby.”

Jasper put a comforting hand on his wife’s knee. “Maybe try not to meddle so much, darlin’. Natural relationships, first.”

“They would have been!” Alice wailed, “I would have played it cool and casual and made friends and you all would have seen it! But everyone’s hurt and I have no friends at all because Edward won’t let me try!”

Edward rolled his eyes.

Carlisle suppressed a heavy sigh. “You have to let your sister try, Edward.”

Edward’s mouth fell open. “You cannot seriously be siding with her on this!”

But Carlisle stood his ground. He and Edward stared at one another for a few seconds, engaged in a silent conversation. In the end, Carlisle tilted his chin and Edward slumped back. Victorious, Alice used both pointer fingers to jab Edward in the side several dozen times at vampire speed.

Rosalie flipped her golden locks over her shoulder. “I don’t know how you all struggle so much. I have no issues with becoming well-liked at school while remaining inconspicuous.”

“Oh yeah, you’re so inconspicuous,” Edward grumbled, now extra-petty that he had been called out two times in one meeting. “You dress like you're on your way to brunch at your second husband’s country club in Beverly Hills and you make out with your foster brother. The perfect picture of discretion in Forks High School.”

“At least I don’t dress like a sad, old man.” Rosalie grimaced, disappointed in her comeback. The light, humorous insults that were required in family situations were Emmett’s forte; Rosalie’s insults were meant to emotionally cripple a person.

Edward sat up in his seat on the couch and turned to face Rosalie. “I think you missed the main takeaway in that you make out with your foster brother.” Edward turned back. “I can read your minds, and I still don’t understand what made either of you think it was okay to bring your relationship to school?!”

Emmett smiled, unperturbed. “It’s hot.”

“It’s disturbing,” Edward disagreed.

Esme frowned, “You kids don’t really do that, do you?”

“Would it help if Jasper and I became an official couple too?” Alice suggested. Jasper perked up at the idea of being able to hold hands with Alice in public again.

“No!” Edward yelled at the same time Emmett and Rosalie muttered their acquiesce.

“It wouldn’t seem as weird if there were two couples,” Emmett agreed.

Edward dug his fingers through his hair. “Oh my god!”

“...maybe not, kids,” Esme intervened, but was ultimately ignored.

“So should we come out today like it happened over the summer, or make a little show out of it?” Alice asked Rosalie.

Rosalie waved a hand in the air. “Oh, it’s way more fun if you play up the theatrics.”

“A little more realistic, too,” Emmett agreed.

Alice looked to Jasper for his opinion. “It might be better if we were discreet about it,” she said. “Like we knew it was wrong, but we wouldn’t let anything stand in the way of our love.”

Jasper scooted forward to the edge of his seat. “Or we could let it be quiet and drawn out. Let others see our mutual pining, and root for us to be together.”

Gazing deep into the golden eyes of her soulmate, Alice sighed, “I love that.”

“If people wanted us to get together, it would normalize Emmett and Rosalie’s relationship.”

“Or Rosalie and Emmett could stop,” Edward suggested, bitterly. “That would be normal, too.”

“Oh, Edward,” Alice patted his shoulder, “You’ll find love someday, too.”

“That is not at all what bothers me about the situation.”

Carlisle made the decision for everyone. “Rosalie and Emmett, break up at school. Alice and Jasper, remain friends and siblings.”

Disappointment filtered into the room through Jasper.

“I heard that,” Edward grumbled at someone’s thoughts.

“You were supposed to,” Rosalie shot back.

“We are also initiating a new rule,” Esme brought the room back to the conversation at hand, “No more correcting your teachers.”

A chorus of complaints rang from the couch.

Esme clicked her tongue, “I’m tired of defending you all from entirely preventable issues. I have emails from curious teachers wondering why my foster daughter is taking French 101, when she already appears to be fluent.” Esme looked at Rosalie, who immediately tucked her bottom lip between her teeth. “Or why my son, at the tender age of sixteen, could not only deadlift three hundred pounds in his first weightlifting class, but also give his coach tips on improving his posture.”

Emmett glanced over at Edward before he realized Esme was, in fact, addressing him. “What!?”

Jasper snorted. The sound was a mistake, for it brought Esme’s wrath onto him. “And not to mention the emails from not one, not two, but three teachers warning me that my foster son has an intimate understanding of the mechanics of a point fifty-eight caliber rifle-musket.” Esme held out her hands, almost pleadingly, “How does that subject keep coming up, Jasper?”

A noncommittal grunt was the only answer Jasper had for that question.

“No more,” she commanded. “You can get good grades but keep your extra knowledge on any subject to yourself. Whatever your teacher teaches is all you know. Understand?”

“But what if we—” Edward started.

“Understand?” Esme repeated.

The five teenage vampires understood, even if they didn’t want to.

“I believe that all five of you will graduate from Forks High School!” Esme cheered.

The kids stared back, unable to muster the zeal Esme had over the prospect.

“Meeting adjourned!” Carlisle announced, and faster than fast vampire speed, the kids bolted from their seats.

Esme was able to get in a few more reminders as her children flitted around the house and filed out to the silver Volvo. “Remember to buy lunch with cash and not your credit cards. Emmett, please do not joke about being mauled by a bear. Do not address your teachers by their first names—I don’t care if you’re older than they are, Edward. Alice, please wear something a bit more causal, pet.”

When the house was finally empty, Carlisle pulled Esme backwards into his chest and began massaging her temples. The gesture wasn’t needed, but any touch from her husband was always welcome.

“Do you think they’ll listen?” she asked her husband.

“Not a chance.”

#this bad boy had been swimming around in my head for awhile #please enjoy #my other fics havent been cullen centric enough for me lately #so i had to do something #twilight fic #twilight fan fiction #and thank you to the editing queen edwardsmate4ever for beta'ing for me #youre a queen

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90stvshowgoth · 4 years ago

Text

—WORTH THE WAIT

summary: over the years it’s become easier to keep your feelings for your boss quiet but when he asked you to pose as his date during a mission your facade becomes much less convincing.

w/c: 7569

tags: mutual pining, exhibitionism, closet sex, excessive use of pet names

notes: jesus chriiiisst this took a million years. totally worth it tho. this was a request from @ddarker-dreams so thanks for the idea u jerk ily.

The Yul National Treasury was one of the most renowned institutions the world had ever seen, reopening as the new pride and joy of the nation of Yul. It was a small province that had just come into some serious money after its two neighboring countries had gone to war, profiting from both sides.

Its ruler, Markus Ano, was drunk on the power that had evaded him all his life, wasting away royalties on lavish parties to flaunt the wealth he’d accumulated. Tonight would be the biggest one yet, as the country’s fearless leader had just signed a contract meant to expand Yul’s borders and planned to celebrate accordingly. But, unlike his other galas, it wasn’t being held at his mansion. It was being held at the treasury.

You almost hadn’t believed Chrollo when he told you. Why would the supreme leader host a party there, where priceless artifacts and deeds of cash flow would be so ripe for the taking?

“It’s a brazen act of confidence,” Your boss had explained, “a flimsy attempt to make himself seem credible to the other world’s leaders. He’s daring any mercenary groups to crash the party.”

Shalnark’s eyebrows furrowed, his expression clear from the glow on his phone screen in the decrepit building, “Why would Ano want that?”

“To be taken seriously. If his military can fend off any attackers he believes it will increase his social standing with the other government officials.”

That made you confused. Chrollo had specifically called the Troupe’s recon members to Yul but from what your boss said it sounded like they were expecting a fight. Looking across the dimly lit building you saw the silhouettes of Machi, Paku, and Shalnark all wondering the same thing.

Your boss, insightful as ever, answered that unasked question, “We won’t be getting in there by force. If we try to barge our way in they’ll relocate the goods far before we find them. Our only option is to infiltrate the gala,” Chrollo held up four envelopes to the moonlight, each sealed in a garish purple wax, “Shalnark will provide support from here and the rest of us will pose as guests,”

His gaze focused on the blonde manipulator, “Can you access the hunter website to find out who the captains of the security team are?”

“Consider it done.”

“Excellent. Pakunoda will track down the captain and learn where they’re keeping our target. It’s either stored in one of the safes below the ballroom or somewhere else in the building.”

He called back the attention of the two women in the back of the room, “Machi, Paku, you will both arrive together. I assume your nen will be enough to restrain the guard silently?” He asked, gesturing towards Machi specifically. She didn’t say anything, just gave him a curt nod.

You willed your voice not to break as you spoke, “Um.. boss?” Keeping a level gaze with Chrollo when his wide, dark eyes flickered over to yours was more than a challenge, “what are we stealing?”

He smiled, and your treacherous heart skipped a scattered beat.

“The last physical copy of a greek play hand-written by Homer himself. The Illiad. Some collectors would pay billions for just a chance to see it and it’s by far the supreme leader’s most priceless artifact at the treasury.” Everything started to click into place and you had to fight off a grin at the mention of your boss’ favorite thing to steal. Old books.

You nodded, bowing a bit further than necessary in an attempt to avoid his stare, “Understood.”

“Oh, and one other thing..” The sound of Chrollo saying your name was something you never heard often enough, the rarity only making it sweeter on your ears.

“Yes, sir?”

“You’ll be posing as my date for the gala. You and I will retrieve the play by ourselves.” If you weren’t turned to stone under his scrutiny you’re sure the panic would’ve been much more evident on your face.

It was immature to say you had a “crush on your boss,” but you absolutely did. Ever since you joined four years ago you couldn’t help but find him fascinating, and just a tiny bit attractive. But despite everything you were loyal to the Troupe first and foremost, you couldn’t let yourself get caught up in your emotions like some kind of schoolgirl.

Heart racketing against your chest, you found the nerve to speak, “Understood, sir.”

“Alright, we’ll leave for the party tomorrow after sunset. Meet me back here well before then so we can go over the details.”

The four of you all turned to leave, but the sound of Chrollo saying your name froze you mid-step, “Stay a bit longer. I need to discuss your plan for tomorrow now, if you don’t mind.”

Mutely, you nodded, and once the other three spiders had left the abandoned building you both stood in felt much smaller. A wisp of a smile fell over his face as he turned away from you to walk over to the hotel closet, the paneling chipped off from years of neglect. With a slightly dramatic flourish he drew back the door, watching the way your eyes widened.

A slim, black dress hung on a satin hook, layered with some kind of velvet lace at the ends that would trail to your thighs. You looked from the dress to Chrollo then back again, stuttering out a quick, “Thank.. you? Sir, I—“

“You don’t have to call me that, you know.”

You stayed silent, head a bit tilted in confusion, “Call you what?”

He nimbly took the dress from its hook, his approach towards you slow, the floorboards underneath him creaking with each hesitant step, “For this mission I’d be best if you called me Chrollo.”

The blush that wracked your cheeks was so prominent it was hard for Chrollo to not pity your embarrassment as you tried to string the syllables of his name together.

His fingers deftly grazed your shoulder as he held up the straps to your collarbone, humming in approval once he saw he’d matched your right size with what he bought, eyes and touch wandering over your skin a bit too long before pulling away, leaving the dress clutched in your hands.

Unwittingly, your eyes flickered towards his lips, indulging in your weakness briefly before looking away and stepping a few feet back, the distance between you far too close for comfort.

“Thank you, bo— Chrollo,” You corrected, trying to stare at anything but him, “I should.. should get going now,” Your grip on his present was tight as you sped past him, the hurry in your steps not lost on him as you fled, a smirk you couldn’t see lacing his face as you scurried away.

The Yul National Treasury was three stories high, five if you counted the two floors of hidden safes tucked into the earth below. You’d seen places that had taken your breath away as you travelled with the spiders, your recon skills making you more suited to this kind of espionage, but the luxury never failed to catch you off guard compared to the conditions you were used to.

This one might leave them all behind. The walls were a peachy stone all lined with silver plating and gilded archways. Balconies were filled with smiling socialites spilling their champagne as they laughed. The entryway was illuminated by hanging lights that draped from window to window, all along the branches and archways. The lights even strung around the armed guard towers clearly manned with machine guns, illuminating the polished weaponry for all to see.

‘You can do this, It’s just a mission,’ You drilled that thought into your head as you toyed with the ends of the pitch fabric.

You had arrived at the venue with Paku, the two of you going your separate ways as she reconvened with Machi, leaving you at the entrance to the party to wait for your boss.

Whenever he himself participated in a mission he sometimes arrived fashionably late, so you weren’t all that concerned. The night was peaceful, a waning moon barely illuminating the dark foliage that surrounded the pathway towards the party and it was easy to get distracted in the lull of the evening.

“You look beautiful,” The voice made your head shoot up, looking to see Chrollo, a soft smile on his face and arm outstretched towards you, “are you ready?”

As you locked one hand around him you clawed your fingernails into the other, desperately hoping the pain would distract your body from the pounding of your chest. The walk to the front door felt longer that it was, your doubts eating away at every inch of your nerves, each step somehow felt inadequate to your self-sabotaging brain.

Before you could follow that rabbit hole any longer you had arrived, the opened doors to the gala manned by about thirty guards, all using normal guns as far as you could tell. Chrollo handed one of the soldiers his two wax-dipped invitations, cracking the seals and glancing over each of their credentials. They must’ve been legitimate invites or damn good forgeries because the soldier stepped back, giving his man the go-ahead to let you both through.

If the outside was impressive the interior was even more so, with curved marble staircases leading away from the main ballroom and those same strings of light connecting to the ceiling like webs. The other attendants had clearly dressed to impress, with pearls and expensive silk all bleeding from their gowns and suits. Ironically enough, although both you and Chrollo had worn relatively simple black numbers for the event, the two of you had stolen enough wealth over the years to buy whatever these aristocrats were wearing twenty times over, but none of them suspected a thing.

The silence between the two of you was deafening, especially under the chattering voices of the crowd, only broken when your boss nodded towards your 3 o'clock, “There.”

In the far back of the room was a man wearing a golden coat adorned with countless medals and pins that you suspect he hadn’t actually won, his arms slung around two girls who were both clearly feigning interest in whatever the man had to say.

You recognized him from the debriefing immediately to be Markus Ano, the supreme leader of Yul.

“Go.” Chrollo whispered that last part into your ear, a shiver going down your spine.

Once you were away from your crush it was far easier to keep a clear head, taking a few deep breaths and fully summoning your nen as you strode towards your target.

When you joined the Troupe all those years ago Phinks had joked how your abilities were, in his words, “A man’s worst nightmare.” As soon as you entered the building your En had begun to slowly spread throughout the entire room. In simple terms, once your En had filled a room you could activate your ability on anyone, simple eye contact being all it takes to make them ever-more perceptible to your will. The caveat being that if they looked away from you, your influence over them would slowly fade away.

‘Its effects should be strong enough by now,’ You decided, the distance between you and the leader’s not-so-secret bodyguards disguised as nearby guests growing smaller by the second.

“Hold it,” One of his guards stopped you, his grip tight on your upper arm before slacking as you gave him a doe-eyed look.

“Please sir, I’d love to meet the Supreme leader, if it’s alright?” It was admittedly funny how fast the guard nodded, guiding you gently over to his boss’ side.

The ruler was watching the two of you from his gilded couch, interest piqued as he glowered over your body, “And who might you be?”

You gave him the most polite bow you could, the custom common in Yul, leaving him unabashedly staring at your chest; the gross sensation it inspired in your gut all too familiar by now. You’re not even sure he heard your fake name when you told him.

Locking your gaze onto his, he was done for, going so far as to shove the two girls off of him, though they didn’t seem unhappy at having an excuse to leave.

“I’m new in Yul, sir, It’s an honor to meet you, I’ve heard so many stories...” The flattery worked like a charm, Ano patting the now empty spot beside him and you were sure not to break a moment of eye contact even as you sat down.

“Tell me, who are you with?” He obviously didn’t recognize you among the crowd of his aristocratic friends.

You gave him a forlorn sigh, nodding your head towards another corner of the room, “My date was the minister of Targon, but he’s gone off somewhere, leaving me all alone...”

“What an idiot he was, then, for leaving a lady like you,” You’d decided your nen had been in effect long enough for you to drop the charade if the lovestruck glaze in his crinkled eyes was anything to go by, merely leaning to briefly whisper your suggestions into his ear to keep up appearances for anyone watching.

“Send your main forces to the west back gate, there’s been a disturbance... but ask for the captain of the guard to meet you by the second left exit, alright?”

“But... what about—“ He must’ve had at least a little mental fortitude to achieve his position, enough to repel your abilities for about three seconds. Not bad for someone who didn’t know about nen.

You slid you hand to his cheek, tilting him forward to look at you, each second making the breathing in his chest more ragged by the second.

As you blew a soft kiss towards Ano it was apparently his breaking point, ripping out his phone and quickly calling up his captain. While your new lapdog was busy barking out your orders you shrugged off his side, pretending to spot someone among the crowd.

“Oh, there’s my date now! It’s truly been a pleasure, Mr. Ano, thank you for keeping me company!” Hopping off the chair, you gave him a quick bow for the witness’ sake and left your spot on the couch. He was about to call out for you to wait only to realize he had completely forgotten your name. By the time he’d fallen from your trance you were long gone, one face among many.

Your part had gone off without a hitch, Pakunoda and Machi should be restraining the guard captain any second now. All that was left is for him to spill where the greek play was being kept and it would be up to you and Chrollo to retrieve it.

“Quite a show,” Speak of the devil.

Chrollo took his place in step behind you, a strange energy to him that wasn’t there before, just as you were growing comfortable around him, “Any word from Shal?” You asked.

He shook his head, discreetly checking his earpiece to be sure the device was still on, “Not yet.”

“Well, what should we do in the meantime?” You were only half curious, expecting a simple command to stand by like usual.

Instead he outstretched his hand, the steel of his eyes softer than you’d ever seen before, “Dance with me.”

You blinked, waiting for the punchline, only to be met with silence and an open invitation to the main floor.

“But you...” It was nearly impossible to find the right words with him, each question sounding wrong, “why?”

The corners of his lips tilted into a smile, heat blooming from your chest at the rare, honest sight, “Why not?”

You didn’t trust your voice not to crack so you kept quiet as you slowly took his hand. There was something in the way he carried himself that made your lingering doubts fall away, his confidence infectious as he effortlessly lead you to the floor and let his hand fall to your waist.

“Chrollo, I don’t.. I’m not good at dancing.” Especially not whatever classical number the other guests were a part of.

He chuckled, pulling your hand onto his shoulder, “I’ll teach you,” you gripped the dark fabric of his blazer as a way to steady yourself, the violins escalating over the course of the concerto, “It’s only four steps, just follow my lead.”

He was patient with you, carefully guiding you into a steady pattern, your steps miraculously falling into sync with his. You couldn’t’ve helped the shaky laugh bubbling from your chest as you slowly got the hang of it, the proud look on Chrollo’s face just made it more surreal.

It was as if everything else began to melt away like candle wax; the judging socialites, the mission, and even your dedication to keeping your infatuation with Chrollo under wraps. Dancing with him was almost as easy as breathing.

Looking up from between the two of you and moving without his steps for guidance was as much of a reward as it was a mistake. Seeing the look on his face almost made you trip, saving yourself at the last minute from falling into his chest. If he noticed your stumble he was kind enough not to mention it. Chrollo was looking at you like you were the only person in the room, his eyes alight and hiding a million things he wouldn’t say just yet. You were too far gone to even try to hide the blush dusting across your face.

It was over all too soon, the gleam in his eyes suddenly focusing into the hardened iron you were used to.

“What is it?” He didn’t answer you right away, guiding the two of you off the dance floor until you began to make your way through the crowd.

“Machi and Paku dealt with the guard, there’s been a change of plans.”

That was never good. “What happened?”

“The Illiad isn’t being kept in any of the vaults. It’s in Markus Ano’s private study on the fifth floor.” His voice was hushed, a tone only you could hear as he tugged you close to his side, the gravity of the situation all that kept you from focusing too much on that detail.

You cursed, hoping the order Ano sent out on your behalf was enough to get most of the security out of the building so the two of you could get to the study undetected, “Does Shalnark have the upper floor plans or access to the cameras?”

Chrollo repeated your question into his hidden transceiver and nodded back after a moment, “He says there’s an unguarded stairwell in the east hallway.”

Grinning, you gestured forward, “Then lead the way, boss.”

The corridors were thankfully empty as you followed, checking each stairway before heeding whatever directions Shal was feeding into your boss’ ear. After walking down a seemingly ordinary hallway on the fifth floor you were quick to notice the two guards still stationed in front of what you assumed must be the private study. The sound of a pen clicking under Chrollo’s thumb was all it took to tell you to fall back. He’d take them himself.

One of them slapped the other’s shoulder as the two of you approached, barking out some question as they raised their rifles, taking aim when neither of you wasted a response. You made no move to block or dodge, knowing just how capable the head of the spiders could really be.

Before either of them could pull the trigger Chrollo was at their sides, the ballpoint of his pen snug in the left guard’s jugular, simply cracking the other’s neck to avoid a trail of blood. The right one crumbled to the floor and where he once stood your date held out his palm, the worn pages of Bandit’s Secret appearing between his fingertips.

“I’ll summon the Indoor Fish to take care of the bodies. You should look for the book while they work.” You nodded, slipping inside and being sure to shut the door behind you, not wanting to be seen as fair game to the conjured carnivores.

Ano’s study was filled with treasures, some framed and some propped on pedestals but all interesting in their own right. Foreign riches stolen or bought lined the shelves like an auction hall catalogue, but none of them resembled what Chrollo was after.

That is, until you noticed what was sitting open near Marcus’ desk.

The pages themselves were frail and peach-toned from age but as you tilted the parchment in the light you saw how the gold lining of the edges still reflected as brightly as it had a thousand years ago. The bindings themselves were a polished bronze, restored by some professional curator under Ano’s patronage until the golden lettering stood out even in the dim husk of the study.

Curiously, you looked at the page your host had left open, the scene of war and bloodshed drawn beside the texts so captivating you barely noticed the sound of the door opening and your date stepping through, Bandit’s Secret nowhere to be seen.

You held up the book for him, smiling once you saw the childlike gleam in Chrollo’s eyes that always shined once he made another conquest, some begotten treasure that he’d cherish for a while before selling it off on the black market. He was like a kid asking for his toy back as he reached to take it from you.

He held the book with a reverence, fingers skimming over the gold of the title, “Remarkable...” He muttered.

You couldn’t help but smile unsteadily, the dance from earlier that night playing at the forefront of your mind as you asked, “Chrollo?”

“Hm?”

“If you... I mean—” It was an awful feeling whenever you stuttered around your boss. He was always so brilliantly concise, each word perfectly in place; so whenever you were unfortunate enough to trip over your words it made you feel like your faults stood out all the more.

You looked down at your shoes, “I can’t exactly read this language. So would- I mean if you’re not busy...”

He looked up from the play, patient with your nervous disposition, whispering your name in a quiet hush, “What is it?”

Closing your eyes, you forced the sentence out of your throat, “Would you read it to me sometime? The.. play?”

He blinked, briefly silent as he took in your words, and from that you assumed the worst, frantically trying to play off your request with a wave of your hands, “Not- no, sorry, boss— that was weird, I just—“

“—It’s alright,” His voice was so quiet, just barely loud enough for you to hear, “I’d be happy to.”

“Are you sure?” You couldn’t believe your ears. Chrollo had seemed so unapproachable when you first joined the Troupe, his power an entire league of its own. Saying you admired him would be putting it lightly. And yet here he still gave you the time of day.

Your laugh was as shaky as your heartbeat, half from disbelief and half in joy, having trouble comprehending the warmth that spread down your fingertips and up your neck, dousing your cheeks red. His eyes never left yours, completely enraptured with the effect he had on you.

Your moment together was short-lived as the both of you seized up at the very noticeable sound of loud footsteps from down the hall. The footsteps were in sync, marching towards the room you took refuge in.

‘How did they find out we were here?’ You didn’t have time to speak, thoughts interrupted by the feeling of Chrollo’s hand gripping your wrist, yanking you with him towards the back of the study. He scanned the room quickly before zeroing in on what must’ve been a storage closet, doors revealing a small room stacked with cleaning supplies.

He pulled you inside with a sharp tug, the darkness of the closet overtaking you as he locked it shut behind, suddenly very able to hear even the minutia of his breathing in such close quarters. Luckily you didn’t have to focus on it for long as what sounded like a small squadron of guards entered the study.

“Sir, we insist you stay here until the intruders are dealt with,” Even in darkness the two of you locked eyes after hearing that. Had Paku or Machi been captured? Unlikely, but what else could they mean? “They’re still putting up some resistance at the west gate, it’s not safe yet.”

You immediately recognized the voice that responded, “Come now, It’s my own party! I won’t let a few terrorists ruin my good mood.”

None of the security detail made their way to the back of the study, abundantly clear that whatever they were here for, they weren’t looking for you. The connection between the diversion you’d made up and the events transpiring began to click together in your brain.

“Please, Sir, just stay here for another twenty minutes or so. They clearly weren’t prepared for our assault, we should have them cleaned up soon.” It was almost too hilarious to be true. Had another mercenary company other than the Phantom Troupe descended on Markus’ gala? Chrollo had said he was taunting the entire criminal underground with the event after all, but you had no idea they were going to come from the west gate, it had just been the first direction you thought of.

You scoffed as quietly as you could and it was almost as if Chrollo could see you smile even in the pitch black. “What a coincidence,” You murmured, careful not to speak too loud, “I can’t believe I guessed that right.”

“I should learn to trust your instincts more often then.” He joked, his voice a beguiling hush of its former self, the sound sending a shiver down your spine. Your mouth opened and closed but nothing managed to escape, his overwhelming presence in the crowded room growing more apparent by the second.

“What’s wrong?” You weren’t able to answer him for a few seconds, wracking your brain for an answer that wasn’t ‘I want to know what kissing you feels like.’

“N-othin’ boss...” Even you weren’t convinced by that one. He hummed and eventually your eyes began to adjust to the darkness until you could get a clearer look at him. The two of you were as close as you had been when he danced with you what felt like hours ago, noticing how his wide eyes never left yours.

“I thought I told you to call me by my name?” He asked incredulously, a smug smile teasing at the corners of his mouth. For the briefest moment you could’ve sworn you saw his eyes flick over to your lips, but you quickly tried to brush it off as a trick of the lighting.

You blinked, “But that’s just for the mission, right?”

“Darling,” It was surprising that he didn’t notice the almost deafening sound of your heartbeat echoing through the confines of the closet, “from now on...”

As he took a step closer you couldn’t move, your legs weak beneath you as he pressed against your trembling frame, one arm keeping you caged against the wall and reveling in the squeak it drew out of you.

“When we’re alone?” Hovering his lips over your ear as he breathed the words against your temple, “I want you to call me Chrollo.”

In retrospect, you weren’t thinking clearly before you kissed him. It was like a compulsion, your conscience having no say over your fingers as you pulled him to your lips by the lapels of his suit. Despite all your screaming nerves and lingering doubts you somehow felt that if you didn’t do this now he could slip through your fingers again for good.

In all the years you’ve known your leader this was the first time you’d seen him stunned into silence, your impulsive confidence starting to backfire on your own brain.

You hastily shoved yourself away from him, shame pooling in your gut as you scrambled to apologize, “Chrollo, I’m- Fuck, I’m so sorry I wasn’t thinki—“

He cut you off by cupping his hand over your mouth, backing you further into the wall. Your boss raised a finger to his lips, shushing you with such a fond expression it actually helped you calm down. Tilting his raven hair to the door, he gestured to the guards outside who thankfully didn’t hear your hushed outburst.

“You’re terrified, aren’t you?” That certainly wasn’t what you were expecting him to say but you hesitantly nodded nonetheless.

Chrollo’s grip on your mouth went slack, his fingertips running over the plush of your lips, “Why?”

“I’m scared that I’m crossing a line.”

It was the simplest way you could put it, words hanging undisturbed in the air for a few moments before he could respond, “If that’s what you believe, then I’ll cross it myself.”

In the blink of an eye he’d trapped one hand in your hair, the other pulling you close by your waist and into a suffocating kiss. His lips were warmer than you thought they’d be but just as soft as you imagined; turning you into a petrified mess beneath him, brain short circuiting as his tongue held on to yours.

You pulled away first as the stinging in your lungs became too much to bear. As you tried to catch your breath you saw his expression, eyes dilated and lips slightly stained with the color of your lip tint.

Worrying your bottom lip between your teeth, you looked up at him as best you could in the darkness, “So does this mean you like me too?”

“Christ,” He pinched the bridge of his nose in exhaustion, frustration lacing the way he said your name, “how could I make myself clearer?”

It was possible he could see the blush you were wearing even in the black lighting of the closet from how hot it spread. When he kissed you again there wasn’t a shred of hesitation or self-doubt left to overthink, his confession ringing in your head like the sweetest music you’ve ever heard. It wasn’t like any timid kiss of a new relationship, it was eager, raw, and long overdue.

His knee found its way between your legs, the friction everything you’d been craving and more, keening moans devoured by his lips before they could reach outside the closet door.

“Wait.. Chrollo, stop,” He froze, eerily still with an unreadably tense look on his face.

The voice that had been so laced with desire only a minute ago was gone, “Are you alright?”

“Wha- Yes, I-I’m fine, we just can’t do this here.”

He blinked in an owlish way that you’d call cute if he wasn’t being so flippant, “Why not?”

“What do you mean ‘why not?’” You hissed, pointing to the door and the entourage that awaited you beyond it.

You felt his lips curve into a smirk against your cheek, angling your jaw up until he spoke in a whisper, his hushed breath against your skin sending another wave of heat to your gut, “If they interrupt us,” Chrollo’s grip grew tighter, snapping you forward and forcing you to look at him, “I’ll kill them.”

“But... what about the escape plan? If they hear us—” He clicked his tongue and the hand that had been resting on your waist dipped between your legs, cupping you harshly through the black fabric of the dress, clasping your hand over your mouth to staunch the sharp whimper it brought out.

“Then you should try to stay quiet.” He led a trail of kisses down the curve of your neck, smiling as he felt you begin to relax under his grip, eyes fluttering open and shut from his touch.

He pulled his hand away, bunching the satin of your dress up your thighs until his fingertips ran along the soaked material of your panties.

“So wet for me, Darling,” It was all you could do to keep your voice down as he slipped his fingers under the waistline of the fabric, his breathing uneven as he toyed with the soft heat of your cunt, hovering kisses over your collarbone but keeping his gaze on yours as he asked, “how long have you thought about this? Thought about me?”

“A few months-ah—!” You were barely able to cover your squeak in time as he bit down on the vulnerable flesh.

“Liar.”

He read you like a book. At your juvenile silence that followed his remark he just sighed and started pulling his hand away, the absence of his fingertips on your clit enough to burn off what little shame you had left.

Screwing your eyes shut, you caved, “Since I joined the Troupe!” He paused at your hushed outburst, lips parted in what might’ve actually been surprise as you melted into his touch, “I’ve wanted you for years, Chrollo.”

“That long...” The blissful pressure on your clit was back and you would’ve doubled over if it weren’t for his grip holding you down. Your eyes were still shut so it took you by surprise as his next words sounded further away than the last, “I’ll have to apologize for keeping you waiting.”

Opening your eyes to see the leader of the Phantom Troupe on his knees in front of you, pulling your ruined garments down your legs with a starving glint in his irises was a sight you’d never forget. Not to be outdone when he ran his tongue along your lips, biting into your palm to hold back the whine of your voice.

“Fuck,” He cursed, a rarity for your composed boss and the raspy tremor of it only made your thighs widen. His eyes flickered to your trembling legs that didn’t seem to be capable of supporting your weight any longer, an imaginary lightbulb flicking above the darkened room. With an unnerving kind of strength he hooked his hand under your leg and locked it around his head, becoming all too aware of the heat of his breath against the soft curve of your thigh, settling it comfortably on his shoulder.

“You’re shaking,” He observed, lining a row of chaste kisses along the plush skin, “are you still nervous, Darling?”

Both of you knew he was wrong, and he proved it by leaning further closer to the ache between your legs, tongue prodding at your sensitive clit, “Or are you just that desperate for me?”

“—Chrollo, please,” The growl in your throat was almost enough to catch him off guard, lightly banging the back of your head against the wall out of bratty frustration, “For once in your life, shut up.”

He laughed faintly against your cunt, the vibrations sending shockwaves through your stomach before intoning a delicate, “As you wish.”

The first drag of his tongue had your back arching against the closet wall, the needy sigh he groaned against you sending another tide of heat into your bloodstream. He wasn’t as careful with you now, pace quickly overwhelming as his hands dug future bruises into your malleable flesh.

Your lungs hated being cooped up by your hand as you tried to stay quiet, a few honeyed pleas slipping through your fingers. There was a part of you still vacantly panicking at the compromising position you were in, the thought that one wrong move would be all it took to have the guards outside breaking down the door. You weren’t scared of them hurting you, god no, you were a member of the Phantom Troupe, a few armed guards would be nothing against you. That still didn’t mean you necessarily wanted an entire squadron of soldiers seeing you at your most vulnerable, coming undone at Chrollo’s sinful touch.

Dark strands of hair carded through your fingers as you basked in his attention, the warming knot in your stomach ever closer to snapping. His free hand dipped below the one supporting your thigh and carefully slipped two fingers inside you, curling them up and smiling at your muffled cries.

The reality of the situation was almost overwhelming, the desperation in your grip eased when he wrapped his lips around your clit, sucking the bud between his teeth. Your chest was heaving with the effort to keep still and silent even under his torture.

“Shit, Chrollo,” You whined lowly.

“Hm? What is it, love?” The new nickname was enough to make you crumble.

Even though it pained you to do so you wrenched his face away, nerves outraged at your body’s decisions. You wouldn’t admit it out loud but the stunning view of Chrollo Lucilfer, one of the most dangerous men in the entire world, below you with lips shiny and wet with your slick, was definitely giving you a power trip.

Summoning up what courage you had left, you shut your eyes and whispered, “Chrollo, Please just fuck me already.”

He didn’t move for a second, eyes black with want, but before you could beg any further he’d already rose to stand over you again while he made quick work of his belt. The clinking of metal was far too loud for your predicament but it wasn’t long before you were forgetting all about the assault team waiting outside. Once he unzipped his pants low enough to free himself from his briefs it was hard to think about anything else.

Without much effort he held your waist up to his own with one hand and lined himself between you with the other; not even his unshakeable resolve enough to completely stifle a groan as you eagerly wrapped your legs around him, trapping him closer.

He hissed as you dragged your aching walls down his cock and your pupils flared at the strained moan hot against your ear, “Look at yourself, Darling. Such a fragile little thing for me, so eager to have me inside of you...” His words trailed off as the he softly ground the leaking head of his cock onto your puffy clit.

“You’ve got quite the crush on me, haven’t you?” Chrollo’s kisses turned sharp as he bit along your shoulder and up the trembling climb of your neck.

The pleas you babbled were half illegible, teeming with the unbearable desire you’d kept dormant for years finally earning its due. As he began to push into you he took your lips in his, hiding each of your whorish moans in his mouth. It was almost surreal. You’d fantasized about this moment on and off for so long that to finally feel him pull your hips closer and stifle a groan into your tongue was shooting sparks down your spine. You eventually had to break away for air, panting madly as you rest on the wall for balance.

“Chr...oh-ah, shit, feels so good, Chrollo,” You whimpered, tucking your head onto his shoulder

When he said your name you almost came then and there, a vulnerable need in his voice you hadn’t heard before as he whispered it like gospel, “Goddamnit.. you’re so tight—“

You couldn’t wait for him any more, locking your thighs around him and drawing him flush with your waist as he audibly choked from the wet plush of your cunt. It stung for a moment but after ripping off that band-aid all you felt was full.

He couldn’t stop himself at that point, digging bruises into your thighs as he shallowly rut his hips against yours and tugged you down the wall to take you deeper.

Trying to regain his composure, he evened out his thickly voice and hushed soft praise into your ear, “Do you feel that, love? Feel me here?” He accentuated his words by curving one hand down to your stretched pussy, his palm intentionally pressing down on your abdomen as he curled precise circles onto your clit.

The sensation was unlike anything you’d ever felt, the moan it brought falling far too loud from your kiss-bitten lips. With a jolt of his wrist his hand was pressed against your mouth, head tilted towards the door.

“Wh.. Ivon, did you hear that?” A voice spoke from outside, and your heart fell into your stomach.

Blood was pounding in your ears as you waited for the guard’s response, eyes tearing up while mentally kicking yourself over the slip up.

The man who you could reasonably assume to be Ivon replied, “Yeah? James was just talking about the one of the guests. Did you hear somethin’ else?”

“No, I just thought I..” The guard trailed off, voice already muffled through the wood of the door.

Your eyes snapped open, glaring at Chrollo as he began to move your hips back onto his. Despite the nervous tremor that still wracked your core you couldn’t help but take a kind of sick pleasure in it. The fear of your enemies finding you was exhilarating your twitching body in a way you couldn’t imagine. Sparks caressed your limbs as he dragged himself inside you, igniting a fiery need in his wake.

He watched your muffled reactions with a cheshire grin, pleased to no end. His lips were parted from the friction, sweat beading under the cloth of his bandages, the lewd clap of skin on skin echoing faintly through the storage closet. You might’ve been a mess for him but the way his skin was flushed and his breathing stuttered as he snapped into you was enough to tell that he was close. You keened against his fingers, clenching tight around him and taking in the enticing way he shuddered.

Whatever cries you tried to make were gagged by his hand as he rubbed circles along your clit with the other. All at once the wall felt like it crumbled to dust behind you as you pulled him as close as It was the final push you needed to come undone, spasming and screaming into his hand as he left wet kisses along your neck.

Through the haze of your orgasm you couldn’t feel Chrollo take his hand off your mouth to dig his fingertips into your hips, desperately chasing his own release.

You heard him stifle each breathy curse and harsh groan into your neck, the oversensitivity enough to have you crying out from the numbingly hot friction. His teeth found solace in your jugular as he came, eyes pinched while he finished inside you, choking out the last fragments of his pleasure against your racing pulse.

It took you about two seconds before you realized what you’d done.

“Wait, what the— fuck?” A different voice said, the distinct sound of a magazine clipping into its holster echoing from beyond the closet.

Before you could panic Chrollo was pushing his index finger to your lips, a soft shush from your boss all it took to make you realize everything would be fine.

“I kne- hey James, get over here!” Ivon shouted, several pairs of boots crowding towards the closet door.

He set you carefully down to the ground, your legs wobbling under the weight and the sensation tingly on the undersides of your feet after being held in the air for so long, your boss pressing an uncharacteristically gentle kiss to your forehead before collecting his bearings.

“This won’t take long, love.” He assured, locking an errant strand of hair behind your ear. Chrollo hadn’t actually taken any of his clothes off, something you resolved to change the next time you did this, and was already tucking himself back into his pants and brushing down his clothes to look at least semi-presentable.

“Whoever the fuck is in there, get out here now. This area is off-limits to guests!” You scoffed from your place on the floor, a blissed out smile on your face as you enjoyed the afterglow.

Chrollo feigned innocence as he answered, cautious to keep your exposed body out of their sight as he cracked open the door, “I’m coming out, there’s no need to panic..”

From where you sat you saw him summon Bandit’s Secret in the hand still obscured by doorway, flicking to a particularly nasty ability without even craning his neck to read which page he had turned to. You almost felt sorry for Ano and his guards. Almost.

As you began hunting down your underwear the noises of blood-curling screams filled the next room, the splatter of gore and thump of fallen limbs all too recognizable sounds in your line of work. You just managed to snatch your panties off the ground right before the steadily increasing pool of blood from under the door managed to reach it, a new red stream trickling in from the study.

You pulled your look together, trying to fan down the mess of your staticky hair as much as possible before Chrollo opened the door again, not a single drop of red visible on his suit.

Both Markus Ano and his guards had all been split into pieces, their organs hacked by the unknown energy in one of your boss’ many stolen hatsu and you found yourself having a hard time matching together Ano’s face with the rest of his torso. Covered in a sea of red, they all looked the same at this point.

“Well this sucks. How are we gonna get out of this?” You echoed, tiptoeing around the carnage to not get your new heels dirty.

Chrollo chuckled, holding out his arm just like he did earlier that night. It was easy taking it this time, none of the hesitance from before. As he led you past the doorway and into the still-empty hallway he explained, “There was an attack on the Yul treasury tonight but they don’t know we were ever here. If we don’t claim to anything I’m sure some rebel faction will take credit for our work soon enough.”

As you two wove your way down the hallways you weren’t even stopped by the guards who rushed upstairs at the sounds of screaming. To them it must’ve been impossible for two bloodless aristocrats to be the culprits, as by then you’d managed to blend your way into the crowd of confused guests. The party was as lively as you left it, the band playing a particularly triumphant melody as you escaped.

You almost scoffed as you walked out the front door, each guard none the wiser that their employer was currently littered across his study in chunks because of you; none of them even recognized the ten billion dollar play tucked safely under your arm. But you couldn’t blame them. After all, your attention wasn’t on the book either, but on the man beside you, completely enraptured by even the slightest smile on his face.

He might’ve had a good point earlier. You do have quite the crush on him.

#hxh #phantom troupe #chrollo #chrollo lucilfer #chrollo lucilfer x reader #chrollo x reader #hunter x hunter #chrollo lucilfer x reader smut #adultrio

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