#not sure if my point comes across well and i might change my but

[shockercoco]

Better Late Than Never

Bucky Barnes x reader

Warnings - fluff, some kissing, Valentine’s Day shenanigans, flirty!Bucky

Word count - 2167

a/n - Happy Valentine’s Day everyone, especially to all my fellow single readers! I’ve somehow ended up in my Sebastian Stan era again, so I thought why fight it. It’s been a while since I’ve written an imagine, and I’m feeling a little rusty, but I hope you all enjoy and thanks in advance for reading :)

“What’s got you smiling so much?” You ask Wanda as she sits down across from you.

It was Wanda’s idea to meet up for lunch after finding out about the rough morning you had, and she had also told you that she had some good news to share that might cheer you up. 

You had woken up late for work, couldn’t find your car keys, and when you reached the halfway point on your journey to work, you realized you didn’t have your phone. Today just wasn’t your day.

���Remember how I said I had some good news?” Wanda asks, her smile huge as she leans in and rests her elbows on the table. When you nod, she continues. “Well, Vision surprised me at work and finally asked me to be his girlfriend! He brought me flowers and everything.”

Yeah, today just really wasn’t your day.

“That’s really great, Wanda, but how exactly is that supposed to cheer me up?” you question, giving her a small smile to soften your words.

“Because you were the one who suggested that I should confess my feelings to him, and you’ve pretty much been with me every step of the way,” Wanda tells you. Her expression then turns into confusion. “Is something wrong?”

You honestly were really proud and happy for Wanda, and if this were any other time of the year, your reaction would’ve been different. But it’s not. Valentine's Day is at the end of the week and you just want the week to be over with.

While you were walking down the street on your way to the restaurant, you walked past a woman getting proposed to in the park. While you were waiting for the light to change in order for you to cross the street, you saw a couple making out. As you walked past a street vendor selling flowers, you overheard the vendor making conversation with a man who was apparently looking for the right flowers to buy his crush. Now, Wanda hits you with this.

“No, nothing’s wrong,” you quickly shake your head. “I’ve just had a weird day.”

She looks at you for a moment longer, not fully believing you. “Hmm, there’s something else. Tell me.”

You let out a laugh. “Wanda, I’m fine. It just…it’s nothing really. I’m good.”

“It’s just what?” Wanda asks. When you hesitate again, she adds, “We’re not ordering until you tell me what’s up,” she smirks at you. 

A small groan leaves you, before you speak up, “It’s just that Bucky hasn’t asked me to be his valentine yet, and this is our first Valentine’s Day as a couple. It stupid, I know. I shouldn’t even be upset.”

“No, it’s not stupid. Have you mentioned how you feel to him?”

“No, I didn’t think I had to since he’s always surprising me with gifts any other time of the year. I just figured this would just happen naturally, but nothing yet.”

“I’m sure you have nothing to worry about. After all, it’s still the beginning of the week. Who knows, he could just be waiting for the actual day to come,” Wanda says, and when you don’t say anything, she places a hand on top of yours and continues, “I’d honestly be surprised if Bucky does absolutely nothing for you. Everyone knows how obsessed he is with you.”

That makes you smile. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

“Of course I am, and when Valentine’s Day comes and he still hasn’t asked you to be his valentine, call me, I’ll hunt him down,” Wanda tells you right as a waitress walks up to the table to take your guys’ order. She catches the end of Wanda’s sentence and has a confused, yet amused look on her face. “Sorry, just relationship problems.”

The waitress laughs as she says, “Don’t worry I understand.”

Later that night when you're at Bucky’s place for a movie night the two of you had planned the week before, you can feel Bucky looking at you repeatedly while your eyes are still on the screen. You’re cuddled up into his side with his arm wrapped around you, but you still notice the constant shifting of his head.

You finally give in and look up at him. “Is there something on my face?” you ask him, your tone teasing.

Bucky’s confused with your question. “No, why?”

“Because you keep looking at me.”

“What, I can’t admire my own girlfriend anymore?”

“It feels more like staring than anything,” you tell him, and Bucky just laughs.

“Well, then I’m sorry,” Bucky apologizes as he places a hand on your cheek to lift your head up. He leans down to place a gentle kiss on your lips, a smile still tugging on the corner of his lips. When he pulls away, he still keeps the distance between the two of you small as he looks into your eyes.

“Seriously, what is it?” you whine as you playfully shove him away from you, causing him to laugh. He knows how much you hate it when he does that. “Is there something bugging you?” you casually slide in the question, slightly hoping that he would use this time to ask you to be his valentine.

“No, there isn’t,” he laughs and pulls away, turning his attention back to the screen, but keeping his arm still wrapped around you. “I’m done, I promise.” 

He misses the slight drop in your expression, but you quickly fix your face before looking back at the tv as well.

As the week goes on, you try to focus on more important things, but as Friday continues to get closer, your hope continues to diminish. You and Bucky continue to text normally throughout the week, but when Thursday afternoon comes Bucky calls you to let you know that he’ll be going on a mission the next day. On Valentine’s Day.

“I’m sorry it’s such short notice, doll, but Steve needs me,” you hear Bucky softly tell you through the phone. You’re sitting on a chair in front of your window watching people pass by with Bucky on speaker.

“Oh, no it’s okay, I understand,” you say, trying to keep the disappointment out of your voice. “How long will you be gone?”

There’s a moment of silence on the other end, before Bucky speaks, “A couple of weeks.”

Weeks? 

Your heart drops at his answer and you feel your throat start to tighten. You quickly mute yourself to clear the tears from your throat, before unmuting.

“Are you sure it’s okay?” he asks, noticing your delayed response. 

“Yeah, why wouldn’t it be? There’s people out there that need you,” you speak up.

You catch sight of your neighbor’s boyfriend walking up to her house with a bouquet of flowers in his hand. You momentarily forget you’re on the phone and unintentionally let out a frustrated sigh at the sight, catching Bucky’s attention.

“Listen, I can probably get out of it. I’m sure Steve doesn’t need me that bad, there’s a whole team of people that are available to help out.”

A sad laugh leaves you. “Bucky it’s fine, I promise. He’s your best friend and he specifically asked you because he wants you, so go.”

“If you insist,” you hear Bucky sigh “I know you’re upset, though, so I promise to make it up to you when I get back, okay?”

That makes you crack a smile. “Okay.”

When the next day rolls around, you take your time getting out of bed. Unfortunately, you had the day off today, which of course you would’ve been happy about under different circumstances. 

You decide to keep yourself busy and do some chores to pass time, but by the time you’re done cleaning every crevice and doing laundry, it’s only four in the afternoon.

At some point, Wanda calls to check up on you and asks if you wanted her and Vision to come over and have dinner with you. Vision was planning on cooking for just the two of them, but he told you he had no problem making more. Although the two of them both repeatedly insisted they didn’t mind making the drive to your place, you declined.

It felt wrong to intrude on a special night like tonight. 

After telling Wanda and Vision that you would just order in, the two of you finally end the call.

You weren’t currently that hungry so you decided to just order something later. You make yourself comfortable on the couch and decide to put on a tv show you’ve been wanting to watch. 

A couple episodes later, you finally start to get hungry, and right when you’re about to place an order, your doorbell rings. You shake your head thinking it was just Vision and Wanda coming to share their food, but as you look through the peephole to see Bucky standing outside holding a bouquet of flowers and a stuffed animal you had been wanting, your heart drops along with your jaw.

You look down at your outfit and contemplate quickly changing, but decide against it.

“Wh-what are you doing here? I thought you had to go on a mission?” you ask when you open the door.

“Surprise!” Bucky greets you with a bright smile. He leans in to give you a kiss, before whispering, “Happy Valentine's Day, sweetheart.”

Bucky can see that you’re still shocked and at a loss for words, so he just laughs as he pushes past you and makes his way inside. You close the door behind him and watch as he makes his way into the kitchen and lays the flowers on the counter along with the stuffed animal.

“As much as I’m happy that you’re here, why are you here?” your eyebrows are furrowed as you lean against the counter, your arms folded across your chest. 

Bucky sends you a smirk as he quickly puts the flowers in water before making his way over to you. He places his hands on your waist as closes the distance between you two.

“You didn’t really think that I’d miss our first Valentine’s Day together, did you?”

“I didn’t even think you remembered, I mean you haven’t said anything about it all week,” you tell him.

“Yeah, Wanda told me you were a little upset,” Bucky mentions and your eyes widen.

“What a traitor, she wasn’t supposed to say anything,” you say slightly embarrassed as you look off to the side. Then a thought hits you, and you look back at him. “Wait, did you just come here because of what Wanda told you?”

“No, I was already planning on coming here tonight.”

“But what about your mission?” you ask, still confused.

Bucky smiles. “There never was a mission, doll. I made it up because I wanted to surprise you. You really thought I would spend today with Steve instead of you?”

“...Well, he is your best friend.”

“That’s true,” Bucky nods, grabbing your hands in his and placing kisses on your knuckles, “but, you’re my best girl,” he whispers as he looks into your eyes, causing butterflies in your stomach and your face to heat up.

What were you upset about again?

A chuckle leaves Bucky as he watches you shyly smile as you look away.

“You could’ve at least said something this whole week,” you tell him.

“I know, I know,” he admits, “but I was trying to get everything together.”

“Get what together?” you ask.

Bucky stays silent for a moment as if trying to find the right words to say. Then he says, “I want you to move in with me.”

Your eyes widen and your breath hitches as you stare back at him. “What?”

Maybe you inhaled too many chemicals while cleaning.

“I want you to move in with me,” Bucky repeats. “I know we’ve been dating for less than a year and I completely understand if this is too fast for you, but there’s plenty of room for you at my place and I would be much happier if I was able to have you next to me when I wake up every morning.”

Oh. 

You blink.

“You’re serious?” you ask, even though there's no indication on his face to tell you he’s lying. 

Bucky lets go of your hands to place his on either side of your face. “Completely. Like I said, you’re my best girl.” He watches a smile slowly form on your lips. “So, what do you say?”

“Yes,” you say, and Bucky’s grin grows wider, but you hold your hand up. “Don’t start smiling yet, I wasn’t finished.”

Bucky quickly fixes his face and tries to suppress his excitement. “Of course, continue.”

“I say yes, only if you agree to never pull anything like this ever again.”

“Ever?” Bucky repeats, raising an eyebrow.

“Bucky!” you playfully hit his chest.

“I’m just kidding,” he laughs, leaning in to kiss you. Then he pulls away just enough to murmur against your lips, “I’ll just wait until you forget.”

Like what you see? check out my masterlist :)

[kikyoupdates]

Otherworldly Attraction ⭑˚🔮⭑ 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑙𝑎𝑠𝑡 𝑚𝑒𝑚𝑏𝑒𝑟

yandere!jjk x f!reader

yandere, reverse harem, isekai, jujutsu kaisen x fem!reader, slowburn, slowburn yandere

You don't know how or why, but you've been isekai'd into the world of Jujutsu Kaisen. Although your first instinct is to stay away from the plot, you've been blessed with an abnormal amount of cursed energy, and for better or worse, you find yourself sucked into the storyline. You decide that you may as well use your newfound powers for the greater good, and if you're lucky, you might succeed in rewriting some of the characters' fates. But it turns out that your presence in this world is an even bigger deal than you first thought, and soon, everyone wants to make you theirs.

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You never thought you’d be able to say this, but you’re officially a Jujutsu High student. 

It feels stranger than you can even put into words. The fact that right now, you’re living under the same roof as Itadori, Fushiguro, and technically even Gojo… in many ways, it’s a dream come true. 

As long as you don't think about the scary parts, that is.

You've finished unpacking and your dorm is now completely set up. Unlike Itadori, you didn't bring any industrial-size posters, and truth be told, you hardly have any attachment to your belongings since you've barely been in this world for a few weeks. There's a bunch of stuff you wish you could've brought along with you from the real world, but there's not much you can do about that at this point. 

I wonder if I'll ever find a way back to my old world.

Realistically, you know it's probably a lost cause. But maybe there is some kind of condition that needs to be met. Maybe if you see the story all the way to its conclusion, and once Itadori can finally rest easy, maybe your job will be over, and you'll be allowed to go home. 

Still, you know better than to hold out hope for a miracle. Your number one priority is to adapt to your new environment and survive. 

You’re sure you'll have plenty of time for an existential crisis along the way. 

It's nighttime now, and you’re just about ready to go to sleep. You finish all your preparations and change into your pajamas, but before you actually tuck in for the night, you can't help but creep out of your room and steal a peek down the hallway. 

“Itadori’s lights are still on,” you mumble. 

You know it's probably not polite to disturb him at this hour, but you decide you'd like to say goodnight and wish him sweet dreams. Gojo already told you earlier that tomorrow, you'll be picking up the last remaining first-year student—which is none other than Kugisaki Nobara, of course. 

Tomorrow is going to be pretty eventful, and you're bound to encounter some curses too, from what you recall. Just the thought of it makes your stomach clench. It won't be smooth sailing from here on out. 

Maybe that's why you want to enjoy the last bit of normalcy, while you still can. 

You knock on Itadori’s door as quietly as you can, not wanting to wake Fushiguro. At first you think he might not have heard you, so you raise your hand and prepare to knock again, but soon enough you hear the sound of his feet padding across the floors, and the door opens.

Itadori blinks, and it doesn't take long for him to sport a grin. “Oh, hey, [Name]! What's up?”

“I noticed you were still awake, so I just stopped by to say goodnight. I hope I'm not bothering you.”

“Not at all! To be honest, I'm a little too energized to go to bed right now anyway. Did you want to come in and talk for a little while?”

Hanging out in a cute boy's dorm room after hours?

Uh… hell yes.

“Thank you,” you say, smiling shyly as you step inside. His dorm layout is mostly unchanged from what you saw earlier. Like you, he didn’t really pack a whole lot. His Jennifer Lawrence posters are probably his most prized possessions, from what you can tell. 

“Can’t sleep either?” Itadori asks, lifting a brow. 

“I guess not. This is a lot to take in. I’m still in the process of adjusting.” 

Perhaps that might come across as a bit insensitive. He’s stuck dealing with Sukuna, after all. There are few things that can top becoming a vessel for the ever-powerful, malevolent King of Curses.

Well, other than traversing worlds, of course. 

It looks like you’ve got him beat in that regard. 

“Yeah, I know what you mean,” Itadori sighs, plopping down on his bed. He pauses, then smiles as he pats the spot next to him. “Did you want to sit, too? The bed’s probably more comfortable than the crappy desk chair.” 

Damn. Itadori Yuji just invited you into his bed. Not literally, but still. 

You’re grinning like a goddamn fool.

“Th-Thanks,” you stammer. You sit down next to him, reminding yourself to be cool, to be normal (yes, you can do that sometimes), and by some miracle, you manage to reign in your erratic heartbeat. 

Itadori looks over at you. “Hey, [Name]. You can be honest. Now that I’m that Sukuna’s vessel… does it make you a little nervous? Being around me?” 

No. I’m more nervous about the fact that I’m in bed with you. 

“Why would I be nervous?” you reply.

“Earlier, Gojo made it sound like he was really dangerous. This is obviously all new to me, but I think it’s finally starting to sink in. That he’s hurt a lot of people until now. You were friends with me before all this happened, so I can’t help but wonder if you feel uncomfortable now. Because things are different. And I definitely wouldn’t blame you for feeling that way.”

“But you can suppress Sukuna. Because you’re strong. I’ve always known you were strong. Not only that, but you would never hurt anyone. So, please don’t worry,” you smile gently. “There’s no way I’d ever feel uncomfortable around you.”

Itadori’s eyes widen, and his expression seems to brighten a bit as well. Maybe he needed to hear those words. As cheerful and upbeat as he always tries to be… you can only imagine how afraid and frustrated he feels right now. His body isn’t even entirely his own anymore. He shouldn’t have to worry about losing his friends too. 

You’ve already decided that you’ll stay by his side, no matter what happens. 

“Thanks, [Name],” Itadori chuckles. “I feel like you always know exactly how to cheer me up. I’m glad I have you here with me. It really helps.” 

“I can’t promise that I’ll be as strong as you are, but I can promise that I’ll do whatever it takes to make things even just a little bit easier for you.”

Right. You can’t promise anything. Even with a bit of knowledge on your side, there’s no guarantee things will go to plan—as evidenced by the fact that they already haven’t. 

But at least you can try. 

And you’re damn well going to try your hardest.

“Hm, I’m still not sleepy,” Itadori admits. “Oh, but I’m not keeping you awake, am I? If you’re tired, don’t stay up too late because of me.” 

You shake your head. “No, I don’t feel like going to bed yet either. You brought your laptop, right? Do you want to maybe watch something for a little bit? Maybe some kind of Jennifer Lawrence YooTube compilation?” 

“No way,” Itadori blinks, and he proceeds to stare at you in awe. “[Name], do you… like Jennifer Lawrence too?” 

“Yeah, I’ve seen a bunch of her movies. And she’s funny in a lot of interviews. Plus, she’s pretty.” 

Itadori continues staring at you with his mouth agape, and for a split second, he wonders if you might be his soulmate. 

“Yeah, let’s do it! One Jennifer Lawrence compilation coming right up!” 

It doesn’t take long for you two to get sucked into the black hole known as the internet, and you both lie in bed, flat on your stomachs, with Itadori’s laptop facing towards you. Every so often, you shuffle around and reposition yourself, bumping up against Itadori’s body in the process. By mistake, though—totally by mistake. Totally. 

Long story short, you eventually lose track of time, and it turns out that you’re being a lot louder than you thought, because Fushiguro eventually bursts into the room. 

“Will you two keep it down already?!” he fumes. “I’m actually trying to get some sleep!” 

You and Itadori turn around, and it allows Fushiguro to get a proper look at what’s currently blown up on the laptop’s screen. Namely, a collection of pictures, each featuring a half-naked Jennifer Lawrence. 

The Oogle search bar reads: jennifer lawrence bikini hot. 

“I-It’s not what it looks like,” you desperately insist, but of course, your efforts are in vain.

Fushiguro is already closing the door, and the last thing you see is that trademark disgusted expression of his. 

This time, you can’t really blame him. 

“...hey. I said, hey. Wake up, already. We’re going to be late.”

Your eyelids slowly lift, heavy from morning haze, and it takes a little while for your blurry vision to clear. 

When it finally does, you find Fushiguro staring down at you with his arms crossed—looking somewhat like a disapproving mother when their child oversleeps for school.

“G’morning,” you mumble groggily. A quick glance down at your slightly damp pillow tells you that you were drooling in your sleep, and you hurry to wipe your face and fix your bedhead, mortified to have been seen in such a disheveled state. 

Fushiguro sighs. “I’m sorry for barging into your room like this, but you really need to start getting ready. I had to go wake up Itadori earlier, too. Being late on your very first day of school sets a terrible precedent, doesn’t it?”

“Sorry. I’m… not really a morning person.” 

“I figured as much,” he sighs again. There’s a pause, and his gaze briefly flickers down to the front of your pajama shirt. One of the buttons must have come undone in your sleep, and the fabric is hanging off your shoulder a bit, revealing perhaps a bit too much cleavage. 

It only takes a second for Fushiguro’s face to turn bright red. 

“A-Anyway, just hurry up,” he splutters, quickly turning away from you. “We seriously need to get a move on. I left your new uniform by the door.”

Fushiguro leaves in a hurry, nearly tripping over his feet in the process. You feel a bit embarrassed that he had to see you looking all sloppy like this, but it certainly wouldn’t be the first time he’s judged you. 

Pressed for time, you finish getting ready as quickly as possible, but you make a point of stopping to look back at your reflection in the windows. Now that you’re all decked out in the Jujutsu High uniform… it feels even more real. You struggle to reel in your excitement, but ultimately fail, and out in the hallway, Fushiguro can hear you happily giggling to yourself. 

“So ridiculous,” he scowls.

Yet again, he can’t fully bring himself to admit that you’re absurdly cute. In kind of a stupid way, but still.

Eventually, you and Itadori both finish getting ready, and the three of you head down to Harajuku Station, where you’ll be picking up the last addition to your group, Nobara. Itadori buys some popsicles while you wait for Gojo to show up (Fushiguro refuses to have one, of course), and you suck on the iced treat while glancing all around, eagerly searching for a short-haired brunette. 

“I still feel like four people is way too little for a first-year class,” Itadori absently remarks. 

“Other than [Name], have you ever met anyone who could see curses?” Fushiguro points out.

“Well… I guess not.” 

“That’s just how much of a rarity jujutsu sorcerers are.” 

You bite into the last chunk of your popsicle, briefly shuddering from how cold it feels against your teeth. Right as you’re finishing it off, you hear a familiar voice, and you turn your head towards the station’s entrance. 

“Sorry for the wait,” Gojo greets, lifting his hand in the air. He tilts his head as he walks over towards the three of you. “Oh. Looks like the uniforms made it on time. How are they? Comfortable?” 

“Mine’s a perfect fit,” Itadori nods. “My uniform looks different from Fushiguro’s, though. It’s got a hood, for one.”

“You can put in requests to have your uniforms customized,” Gojo explains. 

“I’m pretty sure I never requested that.” 

“That’s because I did it for you, of course!” Gojo proudly sticks his thumb in the air, and his grin gets even wider when he turns towards you. “Yours too, [Name]. I wasn’t sure what you’d like, but I did my best to come up with a cute design. How is it? In my opinion, it suits you really well.”

“Does that mean you’re also calling me cute?” you gape incredulously. 

“Sure, sure,” Gojo laughs. “You look super cute. I guess I’ve really got an eye for this kind of thing, huh?”

You press your palms to your flushed cheeks and somehow manage to bite back a squeal. Meanwhile, Fushiguro’s expression turns to his disgust yet again. It’s practically a superpower at this point.

“Sleazeball,” Fushiguro mutters. 

“Who, me?” Gojo points. “What’d I even do?”

“You started hitting on a high-schooler.” 

“Hey, now. I was just complimenting one of my students. I’m being a supportive teacher. You know, positive reinforcement and all that.” 

You nod enthusiastically. “The positive reinforcement is definitely working. Keep it up, sensei. I can feel myself getting stronger already.”

Fushiguro shakes his head in disbelief. 

“You’re all a bunch of idiots.”

Since Nobara specifically requested that you meet up in Harajuku, there are plenty of shops to hit while you wait for her to show up. Itadori holds your hand as he excitedly leads you through the crowds. Fushiguro refuses to partake in anything fun, of course, so you and Itadori treat yourself to yummy crêpes, needlessly complicated drinks, and try on silly accessories like comically oversized sunglasses and animal ears.

“Itadori, you’ve got some whipped cream on your cheek,” you say. 

“Huh? Oh, shoot. I didn't even realize.” Itadori pauses, then leans closer to you and smiles. “Would you mind getting it for me?” 

“S-Sure,” you reply, and even though the gesture is innocent enough, your face feels ridiculously hot as you gently swipe your finger across his cheek, picking up the leftover whipped cream. The deranged part of you briefly considers licking the cream off your finger, in true clichéd anime fashion, but you ultimately wipe your finger with a napkin, proud of yourself for not giving in to your fangirl urges. 

Fushiguro grimaces. “They’re basically just on a date. And we’re being forced to watch. Also, why didn’t she just use the napkin to wipe his cheek in the first place? I swear she’s got a few screws loose.” 

“Ah, young love,” Gojo muses. 

You finish off the last of your treats then throw away your garbage, and apparently, just in time to watch a familiar scene unfold. 

“Excuse me, do you have a moment?” a suited man asks, smiling politely as he approaches a woman walking on the street. “You see, I’m looking to scout potential models. Here’s my business card. Would you be interested, by any chance?” 

“I’m busy right now,” the woman curtly replies, clearly not willing to give him the time of day. 

“Please, just hear me out. Even a short chat would be more than enough—”

“Hey, you.” 

The man is roughly grabbed by the shoulder and pulled back, and he turns, coming face to face with the girl you’ve been waiting for this whole time. 

“Forget about that woman. What about me?” Nobara asks, with the sort of confidence you can only dream of having. 

Panic immediately seeps into the man’s expression, but naturally, Nobara doesn’t let up. 

“For the modeling gig, duh,” she continues. “I’m asking what you think about me. I’m pretty, aren’t I?” 

“Oh, um… e-excuse me, but I’ve got some urgent matters to attend to, so if you don’t mind, I’ll just be on my way…” 

He tries to escape, but she forcefully pulls him back again, and her tone of voice becomes significantly more confrontational than it was just a few moments ago. 

“What the hell, man? Don’t run from me. If you’re got something to say, then come right out and say it!” 

“We’re about to go talk to her?” Itadori blinks. “That’s kind of embarrassing, not gonna lie.” 

“You of all people shouldn’t be talking,” Fushiguro mutters. 

“Hey, hey, over here!” Gojo calls out, waving his arms so that Nobara spots him. She turns around and catches a glimpse of you through the crowd, giving that poor man the chance to finally run away. 

Nobara approaches the group, one hand resting squarely upon her hips. “So, you’re the other first-years. I’m Kugisaki Nobara. You should feel honored to be able to spend time with me.” 

She’s very self-assured, no doubt about it. Well, you already knew as much from watching the anime, but actually meeting her is a whole different story. You almost feel a little bit intimidated by the sheer magnitude of her presence. Some might go as far as to call her arrogant, but you know that deep down, she cares deeply for her friends and is willing to risk her life for them.

“I’m Itadori Yuji,” Itadori introduces with a grin. “I’m from Sendai.” 

“Fushiguro Megumi,” the other boy says—and that’s it. Full stop. 

Nobara narrows her eyes as she looks them over. Even without her saying it aloud, you already know exactly what’s going through her head right now. Based on first impressions alone, she thinks Itadori is dorky and unsophisticated. The type who ‘definitely ate his own boogers as a kid’, to quote her word-for-word. As for Fushiguro, she seems to think that he’s stuck up and considers himself superior to others, based on how blunt and unenthusiastic his response was. 

Anyways, since she judged them so harshly, right from the beginning, you fear to imagine what she must think of you. 

“I’m [Last Name] [Name],” you introduce, bowing politely and offering a small smile. “It’s really nice to meet you. I’m from Sendai too. Itadori and I went to the same high school. It was only for a little while, but we kind of know each other from before. Also… I think you could definitely do it. The modeling gig, I mean. That guy from earlier was clearly blind.” 

Nobara blinks, visibly surprised, and suddenly, her haughty expression does a full one-eighty. 

“Aw, you really think so?” she grins, latching onto your arm and pulling you into a hug. “Right? That’s what I’m saying! I swear most people can’t recognize talent even when it’s staring them right in the face. Thank god there’s another girl in the group. I don’t know what I’d do if it was just me stuck with those stinky boys.” 

“She just randomly called us stinky,” Itadori gapes. “But… we don’t even smell bad. Right, Fushiguro? Right?” 

Unsurprisingly, Fushiguro ignores him. 

“Are we going somewhere from here?” he asks. 

Gojo chuckles. “I’m glad you asked. Well, since I’ve finally got all of my students together, and it just so happens that most of you are from the countryside… there’s really only one thing to do. We’re obviously going to go sightseeing in Tokyo!” 

Cue a wave of excited cheers from both Itadori and Nobara. They’re dancing around Gojo and yelling out all the different places they’d like to see. In this world, you started off in the countryside, yes, but back in the real world, you’ve lived in big cities pretty much your whole life. There’s not really much appeal here. 

Besides, you already know that Gojo’s letting them get their hopes up for nothing. 

“I will now announce our destination,” Gojo says, and you watch as Itadori and Nobara both drop to their knees in subservience. “We will be visiting none other than… Roppongi!” 

The pair of fools stare back at each other, eyes all glossy, wide, and hopeful. Poor things. They’re in for one hell of a disappointment. 

You pout. “Sensei, are we really going sightseeing? Are we actually going to get to do fun things?” 

“What do you mean?” Gojo hums, feigning ignorance, of course. “What else is there to do but let loose and have fun? Look at how excited your classmates are!” 

“Uh-huh…” 

For obvious reasons, you don’t trust a word he says, and when you arrive in front of the abandoned building that’s teeming with cursed energy, Itadori and Nobara can only wail in desperation. 

“I knew it,” you say, pouting again. “Sensei, you’re a liar. I saw this coming from a mile away.” 

Even though I technically used cheats, but still. 

Gojo crosses his hand over his heart and pretends to look hurt. “You wound me, [Name]. Weren’t you just saying the other day that you trust me completely? I didn’t expect you to doubt my intentions.” 

“I can just tell,” you shrug. “Good luck lying to me. I’m pretty sure I’ll know.” 

“Hm. Is that so?” 

Gojo’s lips pull into a smile. You’re incredibly perceptive, it seems. Fushiguro’s known him for a long time, so it’s no wonder he’s not surprised with this outcome, but he was expecting you to be convinced, just like how Itadori and Nobara were. 

Perhaps he’s reading into things too much, but he wonders if this perceptiveness of yours has anything to do with how you knew Itadori was supposed to eat Sukuna’s finger. How you had full confidence that he’d survive. Maybe this is just a stretch, and it might just be that he’s not as good of a liar as he thought he was, but still. 

He’s got his eye on you, and from now on, he won’t let you out of his sight. 

More chapters are available on Quotev and Ao3!

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[thcrnedhearts]

caitriona isn't used to this. the "this" she's thinking of now is everything and anything related to the current situation she's found herself in. the loss of titles, of lands and the uncertainty hanging over her future and the futures of all who bear the name karstark, she can deal with it all. she's no stranger to losses, she knows how to find the few rays of sunlight on a cold snowy day and bask in it. how to turn mournfulness into usefulness. she'd consider herself an expert in quick changes such as these but there's only so much one person can adapt to and time helps, gods does it help and this bloody war and these sides and all the loss yet to come...there's not enough time in the world to adapt to that. and because there's no adapting to the greater picture then she might as well be here trying to adapt to the sorry company she's willfully thrown her lot in with. if only westeros wasn't so fucking vast and filled with such characters.

character, lorent tyrell certainly doesn't lack from that much she can tell by the way he sets his cup on the table in a way that almost comes across as deliberately dramatic if not for the pause and the lack of force. too little time to drag on, too softly to startle, and yet the man clearly isn't subtle. two quickfire questions leave his mouth and she isn't sure whether he means for them to rush out of his mouth this way. there's the briefest urge to push the cup aside if only for something to do other than stand so open, soft belly exposed facing this stranger whom she knows and yet doesn't. here's the heart of the issue she understands in a fraction of a second, lorent tyrell is ill-defined to her. not an enemy, not a friend and certainly not an ally by any metrics. he is a question mark. and she doesn't need question marks right now. he does not fit. won't fit. it's a wonder why she had decided to approach him at all, except she did not. she was wandering and he was there and now she has another thing to deal with, and standing won't do but sitting any nearer will not either. and so her arms are crossed resolutely and a nod is given, proof that she is listening. she did choose to open her mouth she might as well open her ears as well.

the words spoken by the blond aren't entirely idiotic but they're off. off enough that she considers whether he is missing the point on purpose or simply daft. a raise of her highbrow signified just that and as she dusted off an unruly bit of lint from her overcoat. "i was not referring to your actual performance in a bed, my lord. i am not shocked however that you'd jump to the vulgar interpretation of my words given your reputation." there's a pause of her own there, not dramatic but deliberate. she finally deigned to look at him too and her eyes darted first to the table and the cup, for a fraction longer again as if his is the last thing oceanic hues want to rest upon in all of the room.

he's drunk and spoken again in the amount of time it took her to gather up answers to his first questions. rhetorical she understands now as he spoke and spoke and by the gods is it the wine or did he simply love the sound of his own voice? she thought and shook her head. a useless motion to dispel the words somehow. the sounds, the contradictions of it all the petulance more befitting a young boy than a grown man. all of it was grating and yet she stubbornly refused to react. she had only so much energy to waste on this conversation she had so thoughtlessly entered. fingers finally found a resting place on her hips as she appraised him, thinking over her words and reminding herself she had no real skin in this game. and yet. he had been proclaiming rather loudly his disapproval of lyanna stark's actions. how terribly inconvenient it all was for him and although lyanna herself wasn't high on her list of priorities she was still a friend. still kind, still steadfast and still a thousand times easier to understand than this one was. perhaps she did owe him some anger after all, on the lady of winterfell's behalf and her own for disturbing already precarious peace of mind. "i've not called you a villain," she said an edge of impatience in her voice. "i've called you fickle because your history with the lady stark seems riddled with incomprehension, with words not spoken or directed to the wrong person entirely. i've called you a child because you are acting as one. whether you are sulking in a corner nursing your wine or bemoaning your oh-so-terrible lot in life for the whole of driftmark to hear makes no difference really only you've managed to do both at once. know that i would not care for the intricacies of your relationship with lyanna even if she is my friend had you not decided to make her proposal to you a matter to be discussed so carelessly. there is a difference between such an offer confined to that fucking room and this."

she gestured to the whole state of him, hoping some semblance of shame would come over him if only for a minute. "you're making a spectacle out of yourself and have you spared even a single thought to her in all this? have you no notion of the difference in your statuses. especially now that our names are rendered useless. tyrell. stark. it's all leaves in the wind now. women. men. that is what matters now. and you will always wield more power than she does in this world. not value, gods no. power. you have more than she does now and no one is asking you to martyr yourself for her happiness. i at the very least am not but to do this? to intentionally display yourself this way." there was that disdain again. "no, i wouldn't call you a villain, lorent. you'd need some kind of forethought to be called that." and he seemed to be devoid of any. no doubt he hadn't even planned where he'd puke the rest of that wine he was gulping down like a fish. "and that's enough of that." she snatched away the pitcher sat on the table, quickly and poorly as wine spilled down her sleeve at the motion. better there than down another gaping maw she thought and smirked, her first true smile in a little while now.

lorent had little he could truly pride himself on, but what he did have, he flaunted down to the last drop. as it was, the tyrell, now ostensibly not even a lord by decree of the dragon queen they had all broken with, could swing a sword, win a tourney, and fuck as if his coin purse depended on it. the insinuation that the latter skill could in any way be construed as fickle, was preposterous. "a fickle bedfellow? i beg your pardon?" grave enough he set his cup down for a prolonged moment. "who told you that? i want names." she was a northerner herself, he now remembered. she'd be a pain in the arse, they all were. a lesson learned late, but learned, at last. when he lifted his wine to his lips again, it lacked the perfect sweetness from moments ago, something bitter souring his pleasure. "suit yourself, at least this manchild knows what he desires and what he very much wishes to avoid. how many men and women lie to their spouses? to themselves? how often do eyes and hearts wander, when love and fidelity were promised? and to paint an honest man a villain... well, the lady stark would applaud your nonsense, i'm sure."

[poisonedfate]

curious. what do you think would have *happened* if gaius actually died in 4x07 ^^

woof. now that's a question.

i really had to sit down and think about this question because there's both so much and so little that i can see his death affecting.

first of all, i want to say that the show is notoriously 'bad' at dealing with deaths. if gaius were to die in 04x07, i'm sure that the implications i'm about to discuss wouldn't actually be addressed - especially because i can't see them killing off gaius for any other reason than the actor wanting to leave the show. his death would be unnecessary, an emotion-pulling sacrifice at best. they would probably do one of two things: use his death as a way to bring more danger/betrayal into the show (something similar to 'a remedy to cure all ills') or simply replace one with another, essentially giving merlin someone similar to gaius. i'm personally more inclined to lean towards option one, though merlin would still need someone who knows his secret and that someone would need to have some sort of knowledge that could be helpful to merlin, as well as a similar quality to gaius - a way to question merlin's decisions. i think it would be…too on the nose to simply replace gaius and this being set at the second half of s4, i think merlin could be more than capable of doing most things he usually does without a physician on his side.

that sounds harsh, but know that i'm currently referring to the technicalities and not the emotional side of things. i think he'd be fine sneaking in and out and using his magic to heal if necessary etc etc. i also want to add that i cannot see merlin becoming the court physician either. i don't think it would really cross arthur's mind, and even if it did, i don't see merlin wanting that position. kid's got enough going on as it is. overall, there are quite a few different options as to how the show would deal with it, but it's neither here nor there. so let's move on to the actual implications of his death. the first thing to point out here is that merlin would absolutely blame himself. it could, potentially, drive a wedge between him and arthur, but at the end of the day, he would know gaius was only in that position due to morgana wanting to find emrys, and thus would have no real reason to blame arthur. however, this is where one of the bigger issues comes in - agravaine. at the end of 04x07, merlin and gaius have the little exchange about agravaine, merlin wanting to tell arthur, despite arthur having ignored his attempts earlier in the episode. not only would that exchange not happen, but merlin's emotions would be about 10 times more intense if he had lost gaius. now, that could drive a wedge between arthur and merlin, however, again, arthur has enough mind to understand the loss of a parental figure, and although he might dislike the accusation, i don't think any real harm would come from it. i also can't imagine merlin going after agravaine. admittedly, s4, especially the second half, shows merlin as a darker character, so the potential for some genuine rage is there, but i want to believe he'd act as his own voice of reason in that moment - all is not yet lost, and the memory of gaius would not be easily overshadowed.

again, as far as the show goes, i don't think the emotional aftermath would be as pronounced, but as i see it, merlin would, of course, struggle with it greatly. gaius was his one ally, his parental figure, someone who he protected and cared for immensely. and, just to highlight it once more, gaius was the voice of reason. he wasn't always right, but he often made merlin see the other side of things. so i think the simple answer here is that merlin's arc of becoming a 'darker' character would simply come to reach its climax much sooner. a loss such as this is about as heavy as they come.

another point i want to make is that merlin and arthur's relationship would change eventually. arthur does eventually find out agravaine was the one who betrayed him and would then know gaius wasn't the traitor. again, this is playing on the point that i don't actually think merlin would continue pressing the agravaine issue, despite gaius being labelled a traitor (although, this also depends on when in the episode gaius dies). arthur would feel powerful guilt, both for gaius himself and for merlin.

overall, i think gaius dying would, mostly, have an impact on the emotional side of things and not so much the actual main sequence of events. he's an important character in merlin's story, but he isn't a key person in the storyline itself. i want to believe merlin would find someone else to put his trust into (and i can't see it being arthur), even if it would only bring a fraction of that same back and forth him and gaius had. if not, again, he would perhaps make worse judgements, but he was never one to listen to gaius very often, especially later in the series. he'd put himself in more danger, and he'd have to battle a lot that he shared with gaius alone instead. merlin would run himself dry quicker than you could count to ten, and it would reflect in his character. he would no longer have the helping hand and that anchor to ground him. the very fundamentality of merlin would suffer greatly.

[tender-rosiey]

from me to you — gojo satoru x f!reader

a/n: this takes place in chapter 268, soo sort of spoilers ahead? also long live gojo satoru; gojo leaves you a letter 🙏

“y/n-sensei, there is a letter for you as well!”

that catches your attention, and you look up at the first years. you tilt your head slightly, and yuuji hands you an envelope.

you gently take it from him, and the first thing you notice is “wifey” written on it then the doodle of satoru with his blindfold on. you feel your throat tighten, and your hands shake slightly.

you let out a small breath then shakily open the letter.

hey, honey!!

it first reads.

I feel like there is still much I didn’t tell you in our last meeting, so here I, your beautiful and handsome husband, am writing them down.

you swallow lightly, and a small smile appears on your face as you imagine satoru saying that, then you continue to the next line.

first, I changed all your computer passwords to variations of “satoruisthebest” at one point. your confusion was so cute!!

you quirk an eyebrow at the admission, but when you rack your brain, you remember that one day when you couldn’t log into your computer.

what you vividly remember was satoru being sat beside you the whole time, and now that you think about it. he was smiling so widely the entire time, letting out small chuckles every now and then. oh, that sneaky man.

“satoru, I am telling you it’s broken!”

“sweetheart, we spent over 2000$ on that. if it broke, then we could easily sue the company,” he chuckled, arm wrapping around your shoulder and pulling you closer.

“2 year guaranteed top performance my ass!”

you smile at the memory. it was pretty satoru of him to do that. your eyes then move to continue reading.

second, there are times when I would tell megumi that you would be coming with me, then he would turn and leave me when he found out I was tricking him.

your eyes glance up at said boy who is sat across of you. he made it out alive, despite everything. he suffered so much, but he made it.

it makes you relieved, and you can imagine satoru being bloody proud of him and saying something along the lines of ‘you handed sukuna’s ass to him, very cool!’

no matter how much megumi had frowned and grimaced at satoru’s presence or antics. it rooted itself as something—safe and familiar.

you can’t count on your hands the times when you and satoru would visit the siblings, and nobody really said it, but these meetings did all of you a favor, a chance to kind of wind down. maybe act like death might actually not be looming tomorrow.

it feels like just yesterday when megumi would cling to you when he got really sad or nervous, after so much time spent getting comfortable with each other.

he grew up well, you think, eyes gliding to next.

third, I hid your uniform every two to three weeks, so you have to stay with me.

at that, your eyes widen a bit. satoru’s schedule was pretty packed, but he somehow managed to squeeze time for quality time between you two.

it tugged on your heartstrings, and you made sure he knew how much you appreciated it, not a single space on his face left without a kiss. however, finding out that he went out of his way to make you rest and stay.

satoru’s care really showed in his actions, and you feel like this is the biggest proof of it.

“satoru, have you seen my uniform?”

“nope! maybe, it is a sign to stay home today? you’ve been working so hard, wifey!”

you cupped his face, pulled him down to your height, and kisses his cheek, “you’ve been working harder, ‘toru. let me take off some of the load at least.”

“we could both stay!”

“you’re kidding, right?”

“I already told yaga; I miss you!”

you try to stop the reminiscing further and try to compose yourself before reading the rest.

fourth, I’m the one who kept adjusting the thermostat. I just wanted an excuse to cuddle.

a fond yet melancholy smile appears on your face. you kinda figured that one out. satoru’s favorite pastime was cuddling, so it’s no surprise that he would go out of his way to create the need for it even further.

add to that, once you went to get some green tea and saw him from the corner of your eye teleport to the thermostat, click something, then teleport back to bed.

you figured that the room being chilly that night was not an exception in the middle of july.

“babeeee, it’s so cold! let’s cuddle!”

“maybe the problem is with the thermostat?”

“I checked! I think cuddling is the best solution.”

you giggle as you recall the moment, one of many similar. your heart feels a bit lighter as you go through the letter. something satoru managed to always do even in person.

he would plaster sticky notes, get you trinkets, and even pull pranks on other just to see you smile. feeling more encouraged, you keep on reading the letter.

then you feel your chest constrict so tightly that you might just throw up.

fifth, I am really gonna fucking miss you.

you read the line over again, and you purse your lip in hopes of silencing any noise that may come out as you feel the lump in your throat return, even worse than before. your breathing starts getting more difficult.

your grip on the letter tightens, and you find yourself thinking back to the good times. memories of late nights spent in each other’s arms, thinking about everything and nothing at once.

hushed whispers of confessions and quiet giggles as you reminisced on your highschool days. tight hugs when recalling the sad moments and the departure of a certain someone.

“you know, y/n, I think we might just be made for each other,” he said one night. you hummed and looked him in the eyes.

“three am thoughts?”

“three am admissions,” he grins slightly, “I am made for you, and you’re made for me.”

you remember him pulling you closer and kissing your forehead, while you teased, “and what would you need little old me for, so much that I got made?”

he feigns thinking then closes his eyes, burying his face in your shoulder, “grounding me.”

I love you. I really do, but you should know that already, right?

your eyes drift down to the corner of the paper, and that is when you feel your tears start free-falling. there is drawn a chibi satoru besides a chibi you and between them is a heart.

the chibi satoru is giving yours a big smooch, while she laughs. you never thought that the day your jealousy burns would be because of drawings, and drawings of you and your own husband, nonetheless.

“but wow, gojo-sensei is shit at writing letters,” you hear nobara remark.

megumi responds with a small chuckle, “I am fine with mine.”

“what about you, y/n-sensei?—”

the trio becomes silent as you let out a sob. a watery smile makes its way up your face as you kiss the letter gently and murmur, “so shitty.”

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[sadesluvr]

TEETH.

Sergei Kravinoff might be a villian, and you a hero; but at the end of the day you're both animals.

A/N: First fic in a while so my bad if it sucks. You already know this movie was basically ass but we only watched it for ATJ anyway - I'm changing some of Kraven's character so he's similar to the comics/Spider-Man 2 game, so be sure to read the tags bc he’s a lil dark…

Word count: 2.3K

Tags: SMUT / DUB-CON / Spiderwoman! Reader / Breeding / Unprotected + rough sex

Kraven feared nothing. 

It simply wasn’t in his blood; not his staunchly machismo upbringing, nor in his DNA, quite literally having that of a lion. Fear made one weak. Fear made you less of a man. Fear was what killed his mother. 

If anything, fear was just another animal; ready to be captured, killed and conquered, ultimately destined to be draped across his chiselled body or mounted on a wall.  

You were simply no different. 

He never really understood why people were afraid of spiders, but he knew that they were a nuisance, having haunted him since he was a boy. Spiders weren’t savages like lions or bears, but they were sneaky; crawling around in the dark and waiting to strike, with a face so obscured that you’d never really know what you were looking at...what they were thinking.  

But now, with your mask off, he could see you clearly. Fear; clouding your eyes and consuming your lungs as you heaved, choking on the intensity of the emotion itself as your pupils darted between the beige, bloodied teeth on his necklace and a crossbow pointed right at your heart. 

“So, you’re the insect causing me all this trouble?” the man mused; legs crossed upon a desk as he eyed you. “I should’ve known.” 

“Should’ve known what? You know nothing about me.”  

“You’re a girl.” 

“Sexist, much.” 

He chuckled. 

“Far from it. My father, however, was quite the traditionalist. He would’ve done much worse by now.” 

There was a heavy silence as you swiped at your bottom lip. Much to your dismay, blood had begun to dry, and you were left with a salty, scratchy throat. Liquid, some of any kind, would’ve been appreciated, but you knew all too well that Kraven wasn’t one for showing mercy. Like all the villains you’d encountered, you’d had a push-pull relationship with the Hunter since the very beginning. He created a plan; you foiled it, sometimes you’d get your ass beat but the ending was almost always the same – with you safe from harm's way, and a bloodthirsty ego chipped away, but momentarily put to rest. 

On this occasion you’d slipped up, your Spidey-senses failing you and placing you right into harm's way, shipped into the back of a van and somehow escorted to a somewhat uncharacteristically lavish mansion.  

You'd always found Kraven to be a man of contradictions; whether he realised it or not. He was the best and worst of both worlds, a hunter with all the grit of someone who’d been fighting their entire life as a poverty-stricken rogue, and yet you’d come to learn that he was a Russian aristocrat, hence his rather extensive knowledge and unrelenting desire for control. Still, nothing took away from the fact that he was a brute, not even his strikingly good looks. 

“Just shoot me and be over it,” You continued, watching as he lowered his feet from atop the desk and strolled over to you.  “You didn’t need to drag me all the way here.” 

He looked even bigger than usual, but perhaps it was because you were perched uncomfortably on a chair, arms bound behind you as you craned your neck to look up at him. Your mind couldn’t - no, didn’t - want to fathom what he was thinking of you from this angle. 

“Don’t get me wrong, I care nothing about your secret. I just wanted to look you in the eye.” He mused, rummaging through his back pockets. Your breath hitched in your throat as he slid a knife from its sheath, finely carved and sharpened and lowered it to his side before pacing around you, stopping as his firm torso pressed up against the tip of your neck. Squeezing your eyes shut, you braced for your neck to be split open, only to be released from your bounds.  

Instinctively, you went to shoot some webs, hoping you could at least catapult yourself across the room, but he tightly grasped your wrists, steadying your arms in place.  

“I wouldn’t try anything if I were you,” he sneered. “These are antiques.” 

You rolled your eyes. 

“Fuck you.” 

“Get up,” he announced suddenly, almost dragging you to your feet. Hesitantly, you began to shuffle out of the room, overwhelmed by the seemingly endless walls and corridors, all framed in ivory and the finest mahogany. “Keep walking until I tell you to stop.” 

You continued down the hall, opting for a straight line. It seemed to be the correct way as once you passed into the threshold of a room that had a velvet chaise lounges and a dresser, he dropped his hands from their grip on your own, closing the door behind you. Oddly enough, you never heard the click of a latch. 

Without a word, he walked past you to open the drawer, rummaging through the contents. It utterly baffled you why you didn’t feel the urge to protest, or even fight. The entire ordeal was feeling more like a glorified house tour with a side of intimidation rather than a future crime scene. 

Was it because he was handsome? Wild? Filthy rich? Whatever happened to your values? Perhaps Jameson was right.  

Your thoughts were interrupted by the man placing something in the desk, curling his finger to beckon you towards him.  

“See this? This is what keeps me going,”he said, rolling a vial of florescent liquid in his fingertips.  “You and I are more alike than you think.” 

You scoffed, trying to ignore how close he was to you. He had an earthly musk that invaded your senses, sending tingles down your spine… and to your core. 

“I don’t need a drug to do what I do.” 

“Never mind the drug. It’s our blood that makes us strong.” 

You cocked a brow and he ignored your confused look. 

“You know, I’ve always hated spiders…” he began, rubbing his beard in contemplation.  “Too itchy; unpredictable. You never really know where they’re going to show up. If I ever saw one, I used to pop them like a zit.” 

There was a clear disgust in his words and vacant look in his eye that sunk you into a pit of fear for perhaps the first time since regaining your consciousness. You knew that it was just about you (surely), but perhaps a weird extension of your being; something bigger, far more innate than a girl in a spandex spider suit. 

“But then I realised that for their size, they’re deadly. Powerful, even. Recently I’ve wondered what it would look like if I harnessed it myself.” 

You swallowed, suddenly conscious of your dry throat once more. 

“A drop of blood usually does the trick.” 

He tutted. Perhaps you were being too fickle. 

“No, любимец [darling], not that way. I crave something more.” 

Your eyes darted to the lounge. Since when did Spider-Woman lack composure? Kraven’s impenetrable gaze followed your own, and he chuckled knowingly. 

“With your arachnid abilities and my strength, we could create something truly unique. Nature has its ways, you know.” 

“You’re sick,” you replied, your chin held high but your bottom lip wobbled. “I’ll never join you. What you do is immoral.” 

Kraven furrowed his brows. 

“You killed a man, and you talk about morality?” 

“He was a bad man.” 

“He was my brother.” 

The word humanised him a bit. The Chameleon wasn’t your most imposing foe, but he was still a challenge you’d been rather glad to conquer. It was all too often that you’d fallen into the trap of thinking that the world was black and white; good and bad, when occasionally it was grey. Kraven was allowed to grieve his brother, but at the end of the day they were both bad guys. 

Then why did he turn you on so much? 

“You don’t have to resist,” the man grinned, strolling towards you. He stopped, glancing down and reaching a hand up to cup the sides of your face, caressing your cheekbones and sides of your lip with his thumb, threatening to penetrate your mouth. “I’ve never been this close to you before…I can smell you.” 

You were both superhuman, but he had the thirst of a predator. Quite literally. Breath hitched in your throat as he angled his lips to your ear, whispering a few fatal words. 

“Give in, маленький паучок [little spider]. Your body yearns for me.” 

One large hand was wrapped around your neck as he kissed you, his wild beard scratching against your face as his other hand snaked down your suit, down to between your thighs. The latex did nothing to offer you safety, his callouses prodding at your wet slit and beginning to rub in small circles, oh-so internationally slow, making sure he pressed against the hood of your clit. 

He had you as soon as a small moan escaped your lips. It’d been a while since you’d been touched, let a alone by someone who was as well-travelled as The Hunter himself, and every kiss, nibble and squeeze was sending you into a deeper spiral of lust and guilt that you could barely fathom that you’d already made your way to the lounge. 

You pulled away as your calves collided with the frame, lips wet and parted as you glanced up at him – wholly helplessly. His hand remained firm on your face, angling his head as he smirked at your shielded demeanour, a far cry from the flashy superhero you’d been but an hour ago.  

“Kra—“ 

“Don’t call me that,” he said through gritted teeth. “Call me Sergei. I need to hear you say it.” 

The name rolled from your lips as a cry as he bunched the sides of your suit in his hands and tearing it apart, exposing your bare pussy and ass, with strands of fabric shaping your legs like a makeshift garter. He grinned, large hands frantically groping at your thighs and ass, spreading your cheeks apart and exposing your hot core to the cool air. 

“прекрасный.” [Gorgeous] he moaned, swatting at your ass before dipping his fingers inside you, rubbing your folds between his fingers as you coated him in your juices. Grasping your hands around his thick neck, you clung onto what you could as he explored your body, lowering you down onto the smooth velvet. 

It wasn’t long before he straddled you, holding your body down with his pelvis as he removed his jacket, giving you an eyeful of his crafted torso. Unsurprisingly, he had the body of a God, with a prominent v-line and happy trail pointing down to between his legs. Even through his heavy trousers you could make out his bulge, mounded and ready for you. 

You gasped in anticipation, watching as the man withdrew his cock from his briefs; red and girthy, with precum spilling from his tip. Skilfully, he spread your thighs, making sure they were safely by your sides (he’d seen how flexible you were, your ankles touching your ears was nothing) and lifting your lower back slightly off the cushions, pushing into you with a deep sigh. 

At first, his intrusion was a dull ache, but as he began to move his hips against your own you felt utterly fulfilled, moaning and writhing as he wasted no time in daggering your wanting pussy, making sure you felt every inch.  

“Sergei...” you cried, eyes fluttering shut as you flung your head back in pleasure. “Please...” 

“Say it again.” 

Words evaded you. 

The man grinned, flashing his canines as he tightened his grip, compelling him to fuck you harder. The whole ordeal was obscene; New York’s most treasured hero being bent into submission by the villain of the week, a scene so heinous that it was all the more endearing, and with every thrust you knew you wanted him more. Sergei didn’t care whether his combat boots scuffed the fine upholstery, or if his grip on your waist would leave a few bruises – he just wanted to own you. 

He huffed as his heavy balls slammed repeatedly against your crack, beginning to bottom out in you with every hit, so much so that it looked like you were conjoined.

Even through the strain in your legs you could tell you were close, knots in your stomach slowly beginning to unravel as your walls clenched around him, earning a delighted rumble from deep within his chest. 

You knew that he wasn’t one for talk, but you would’ve appreciated the warning that he was about to come. Every guy you’d been with tended to get sloppier, but he grew stronger, the literal animal in him taking over as he began to ramble and curse through gritted teeth in Russian.  

Sergei threw his head back as he held you down, hands pawing your breasts and strands of hair sprawled in a beautiful mess across his face as he came, ropes of hot white cum spilling into your pussy just as you dressed his cock in a silky sheen. Your chests heaved as you desperately tried to come down from your high, glancing down at your messy nether regions as his seed began to seep out of you.  

There was no going back. Nine months began now. 

Would it really be all that bad? 

It all went back to fear, really. In the back of his mind the thought of a spider still troubled Sergei, but at least he’d conquered it. Even if it was temporary. 

FIN. 

[catchastarorten]

—100 loaves of bread.

Pairing: the salesman/recruiter x bakeryowner!fem!reader

Summary: it started with a few visits from him buying 100 loaves of bread each time from your little bakery, but overtime the two of you started to get familiar, little did you know about his ‘work’ and how he should’ve given the card to you but didn't...

Content: fluff, aggressive stomping on bread, him having a soft spot for you, trying to convince himself that he doesn’t care about you (it doesn’t work lol), a bit of reader's backstory, self-conflict and a bit of change of heart from him, English isn’t my first language, mistakes should be present, not proofread, sorry!

Word count: ~ 2.1k

You were wiping down the counter when the familiar chime of the bell above the door jingled. It was late in the afternoon, and the bakery was quiet, except for the soft hum of the refrigerator and the faint scent of freshly baked bread and sugar lingering in the air. You glanced up, already knowing who it was. He was here again—the man with the sharp suit and the briefcase who bought bread in quantities that always left you baffled.

“Afternoon,” you said, watching as he walked in with the same calm, measured way as always. He almost looked too friendly for someone who carried himself so formally.

“Afternoon,” he replied, stepping up to the counter and resting his briefcase at his feet. “I’ll need the usual. A hundred loaves.”

A hundred loaves of bread. It was such a ridiculous request, and yet, he never failed to make it.

You’d asked him once, early on, what on earth he did with all that bread. Selling it somewhere else for a profit? Feeding a small army? Storing up for an apocalypse? He had only smiled at you then, the corners of his eyes crinkling, and said, “Something like that.”

It had been weeks since his first visit, and by now, the routine was familiar. You’d load loaf after loaf into paper bags while he stood patiently, sometimes asking about your day, sometimes quietly observing the modest little bakery. Today, though, you felt compelled to ask again.

“Are you sure you want all of it?” you asked, sliding the first bag across the counter. “That’s… a lot of bread.”

He smiled faintly, reaching for the bag and setting it beside him. “You ask me that every time.”

“Well, it’s not everyday someone comes in and buys out half my stock,” you said, tilting your head. “It makes me curious.”

His expression softened, and for a moment, he seemed like he might answer—really answer. But then he only shrugged slightly, reaching into his pocket for his wallet. “Let’s just say it goes to good use.”

You frowned, unsatisfied but unwilling to press further. He always paid in cash, crisp bills that he counted out with precision. You noticed, as you often did, that he never left without dropping a generous tip into the glass jar by the register. He offered you a warm look as he slipped a few bills into the tip jar again.

“Keep up the good work,” he said. “Your bread’s the best in the city.”

You weren’t sure whether to be flattered or suspicious. He seemed genuine, but there was something about him—something you couldn’t quite put your finger on.

Still, it wasn’t your place to pry. You handed him the last of the bags, and he left with the same polite nod as always.

The next time he came in, it wasn’t for a hundred loaves of bread.

You were behind the counter again, rearranging a tray of pastries, when you heard the door chime. Glancing up, you saw him standing there, his briefcase nowhere in sight.

“Not the usual today?” you asked, half-teasing.

He smiled slightly, stepping up to the counter. “Not today. I was thinking I’d try something different.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Like what?”

He scanned the display case, his eyes lingering on a slice of strawberry shortcake near the center. “That,” he said, pointing.

You wrapped up the slice for him, and when you handed it over, he didn’t leave right away. Instead, he took a seat at one of the small tables by the window—a seat no one ever seemed to take—and unwrapped the cake with a kind of deliberate care. You watched, unable to help yourself, as he took a bite.

“It’s good,” he mumbled, almost to himself. “Really good.”

A flicker of amusement crossed your face as you watched him eat. He wasn’t as neat as you’d expected—a bit of whipped cream ended up on the corner of his mouth, and he licked it away absentmindedly, his gaze drifting to the shelves of decorative knick-knacks you’d lined the walls with.

“I never really noticed these before,” he said, gesturing toward a small ceramic cat perched on one of the shelves. “Did you make them?”

You shook your head. “No, those were my parents’. They used to run this place before me. They had a thing for collecting stuff like that.”

He nodded, his expression thoughtful. “It’s nice. Feels… homey.”

You didn’t know why, but his words left you oddly self-conscious. The bakery had always been your parents’ dream, not yours, and while you’d taken it over out of necessity, you’d never thought much about how it felt to anyone else. But hearing him say it was homey made you feel a faint sense of pride.

“Thanks,” you said softly.

He stayed longer than usual that day, finishing his cake and ordering a coffee to go with it.

You found yourself talking to him more than you normally would with a customer. He asked about the bakery, about your favorite thing to bake, about whether you’d ever considered expanding. You didn’t ask about him—not directly—but you couldn’t help but wonder what kind of man he was.

By the time he left, it was dark outside, and the bakery was empty except for you. As you locked up for the night, you found yourself thinking about his smile, the way it lingered even after he was gone.

One day, as he was paying for a loaf of sourdough, he looked at you, his head tilting slightly. “Do you ever think about getting out of here?” he asked.

You blinked, caught off guard. “What do you mean?”

“I mean… this place is great, but don’t you ever wonder what else is out there?”

You hesitated. It wasn’t that you hadn’t thought about it—leaving, starting fresh somewhere new—but the bakery was all you’d ever known. It was safe, familiar. And after your parents passed, it felt like the only thing that tethered you to them.

“Sometimes,” you admitted. “But I don’t know. This place… it’s home.”

He nodded, his expression unreadable.

For a moment, there was a silence between you. Then he smiled again, that warm, almost disarming smile, and slid an extra bill across the counter. “For the tip jar,” he said.

You watched as he walked out the door, his briefcase in hand, and wondered—for the hundredth time—what kind of life he led.

...

The bell above the bakery door chimed familiarly.

He stepped inside, brushing imaginary dust off his jacket, his polished demeanor there as always. But inside, his stomach churned. He had made a decision today—a decision that, for once, made him feel something like guilt.

He scanned the shop. You were at the counter, hands dusted with flour as you arranged freshly baked rolls on a tray. The soft glow of the afternoon light spilling through the window caught on your hair, and the faintest smile tugged at your lips when you saw him. That smile… It was a problem.

“Afternoon,” you said, just as you always did. Your voice was warm, even though he could see the slight tiredness beneath it. That smile didn’t reach your eyes as much these days, but you still tried, didn’t you?

He nodded, keeping his face neutral. “Afternoon.”

You weren’t supposed to matter to him. That was the rule. He had a job to do, a system to uphold, and people like you—drowning in debt—were just part of the equation. It shouldn't have mattered how good-hearted you were, how hardworking you were.

You weren’t special... at least, that’s what he kept telling himself.

He first started coming to your bakery for convenience, but as time passed, the lines started to blur. The bread looked good, better than most places in this part of the city, and you didn’t ask too many questions.

The loaves weren’t for eating, of course. They were for a little ‘social experiment’.

“Bread or lottery?” That’s what he’d ask them—the desperate, homeless souls he scouted in the park. It was always the same. He’d hold out a loaf in one hand, a lottery scratcher in the other. The bread could fill their stomachs. But the lottery ticket? That promised a chance. A gamble. A way out.

They always chose the ticket. Every time.

He knew what came next. The moment they realized it wasn’t a winning ticket after all. They’d just stared at him, some cursed out loud, some were just disappointed, their hopes bleeding out onto the pavement.

And the bread? He destroyed it. Stomped it into the ground until it was unrecognizable, crumbs scattering across the concrete.

It was dramatic, yes, but it served its purpose. It showed them the choice that they had made, the food that they had thrown away and destroyed, not him. It was necessary. Or at least, that’s what he told himself.

But the bread came from you.

That detail had started to bother him more and more. You put your heart into every loaf, every pastry, every crumb that came out of your oven. He saw it in the way you worked, the way you carefully packed the loaves into paper bags for him, the way you smiled when he left a tip. He had started tipping more, as if that would excuse him of the guilt of what he was doing with your work—it didn’t.

He had been keeping tabs on you. He knew about your debts, the ones you and your brother had racked up trying to keep the bakery afloat after your parents passed. He knew how hard you worked to stay above water, how you barely made enough to cover the bills some months.

You were exactly the kind of person he was supposed to recruit.

He told himself that’s why he started coming more often. He needed to assess you, to figure out the right moment to offer you the card. But the truth was, he liked being in the bakery. He liked the smell of fresh bread and sugar, the hum of the old refrigerator, the quiet way you moved behind the counter. He liked your voice when you asked him how his day was going, even though he never answered honestly.

And he hated himself for liking any of it.

The card was in his pocket today. He had been carrying it around for a while now, waiting for the right moment.

Today, he had decided, would be the day. After all, you deserved it, right? The games were brutal, yes, but they were also fair. A chance for people like you to escape the crushing weight of debt.

That’s what he told himself as he walked into the bakery. But when you looked up at him, your flour-dusted hands resting on the counter, and said, “So, what are you getting today?”—he froze.

He could feel the card in his pocket, its edges pressing against his fingers. All he had to do was pull it out, slide it across the counter, and say the words. But he couldn’t do it. Not to you.

Instead, he cleared his throat. “I’ll take another slice of that cake,” he said, his voice steadier than he felt.

You looked over to the display. “The strawberry one?”

“Yeah.” He nodded, his finger gently tapping the display glass that caged all the pastries. “It’s… good.”

You smiled faintly, wrapping up the slice and handing it to him. “Anything else?”

He hesitated, the card burning a hole in his pocket. But then your eyes met his, and something in them—something warm, something real—made his resolve crumble.

“No,” he said softly. “That’s all.”

As he ate the cake at the small table by the window again, he told himself that letting you go was the right thing to do. You didn’t belong in the games. You didn’t belong in his world. And yet, he felt something close to longing as he watched you work behind the counter, your movements quick and precise, your expression focused.

For the first time in a very, very long time, he felt human.

When he left the bakery that day, he slipped a few extra bills into the tip jar. He told himself it was just another gesture, another way to balance the scales. But deep down, he knew it wasn’t enough. Nothing would ever be enough to make up for what he did—what he was.

And yet, he didn’t offer you the card. He didn’t bring it the next time he visited, or the time after that. He told himself he’d do it eventually, that it was inevitable. But the truth was, he didn’t have the heart to drag you into the darkness he inhabited every day.

You weren’t like him. And he wanted—no, needed—to keep it that way.

[perpetuallyfive]

God, I'm so happy with what they did with Maddie Nolen.

I'm sure there will be plenty of people mad because obviously there was a weird backlash over a character who has sex with one half a ship, so I'm sure some people worry this will lead those people to feel justified in their initial response.

But ignoring people who can't emotionally regulate for a second, because those childish impulses aren't worth dictating the fun things a narrative can do: Maddie is SO INTERESTING as a character and she fills in a lot of the questions people seemed to have about the rest of the season.

Consider for a moment that it wasn't Caitlyn who convinced Vi to be an Enforcer. It was Maddie.

I know that some people took this line to be about Zaunites, a sort of obvious connection to the very racist idea of "one of the good ones," but since Maddie is talking about Marcus and his betrayal of the Enforcers just before this, I'm pretty sure her framing here is something else. The point she's making is specifically targeted at Vi's own beliefs and weaknesses, her desire to protect. That seems clear to me now with all we know about Maddie's capacity for manipulation.

She's not saying, "You're good, for a poor."

She's saying, "Wow, I agree with you, the Enforcers are really bad; it's so upsetting. I think you might be the only one who can change it, but only if you join us." This is what convinces Vi to do something she never thought she would.

Well, this and the fact that Caitlyn believes in her so much which, again, is information she gets fed to her directly from Maddie. It even seems like Maddie seeks her out just to say this, which on first viewing felt oddly convenient. Wow, Vi just happens to meet this naive girl who just happens to say exactly what she needs to hear to do something so out of character.

Except obviously none of it was coincidence. Everyone already knew how much Vi meant to Caitlyn and getting Caitlyn under control would require either controlling Vi or removing her from the equation. This was a push in that direction.

Then there's her more obvious role as the spy in Caitlyn's bed, there to reassure her that the Noxians are only trying to keep all of them safe. Then when Caitlyn expresses larger doubts, she's immediately ready to lay out an alternative. You could just give up, Maddie seems to whisper gently in her ear. Just reestablish things as they were before.

But she knows Caitlyn isn't going to go for that. She's not going to go back to the council as it was, because it's only going to remind her of the empty place her mother left behind. Maddie knows that Caitlyn isn't going to take this offer, which is precisely why she suggests it. She frames quitting as the only clear alternative to going along with everything Ambessa wants because she knows that Caitlyn will refuse, which leads her right back into alignment with Ambessa. She makes continued obedience into an active choice that Caitlyn affirms she's making.

Even Maddie's comments that suggest direct opposition to Ambessa — "you're our leader... I follow you" — are designed to frame herself and her true leader in direct opposition, just as Ambessa's own warning about entanglements is there to further that point. They both make a point of reminding Caitlyn that they are her true ally, isolating her further from anyone who isn't the devil and (other) devil on her shoulders.

This way Maddie and Ambessa can both tug at Caitlyn, pulling in what feels to her like opposite directions, all so that she lands precisely where they wanted her all along but with the illusion of active agency.

And look, I'm not saying my read on her is gospel, because I think they intentionally gave us enough room to really speculate and wonder about her, someone who could have been just a background nothing character but ends up being such a huge part of the second season. That's so interesting!

I especially love that she comes across as really naive and innocent, just some poor little thing swept up in the fervor, when in reality she's a true believer who has been manipulating things to go her way from the start.

[uzurakis]

hi hi it’s me again!! (yes I’m the nonnie w/the stalker request + ‘my friend thinks ur cute’ request :3) I’m here to request again!! reckless!reader with jjk men (yuta n Megumi yk the deal 🙏🙏) + bonus points if reader hides their injuries too! maybe reader was on a mission; got injured and didn’t tell jjk men, or reader was playing around on a frozen lake not giving af and it begins to crack, or reader straight up doesn’t look both ways while crossing the street n act like they have 9 lives (yuta ptsd fr 😭), or anything you wanna come up with :3 do what you like!

HIDING YOUR INJURIES FROM THEM?

featuring: gojo satoru. fushiguro megumi. yuuta okkotsu. itadori yuuji.

n. i sure know the deal my beloved meguyuta nonnie (imma call u dat instead). i decided to go with the first idea of yours, i hope that’s okay!

FUSHIGURO MEGUMI. you returned from a challenging mission, your body aching with every step. despite the pain gnawing at you, you plastered on a smile as you entered the room where megumi was waiting. he looked up, concern etched across his features.

fushiguro megumi has the term ‘worry’ in his vocabulary. he immediately called out, "you…” without saying any ‘hey’s or ‘hi’s, you were able to cut him off with your response. 

"it went alright, just a few scrapes," you replied, trying to downplay the severity of your injuries

but megumi wasn't fooled. his brows furrowed as he approached you, his eyes scanning your form. “you’re lying,” megumi grabbed your wrist firmly as he looked straight into your eyes. "those 'scrapes' look more like serious wounds," he said, you could literally hear him edged with frustration.

you swallowed, guilt creeping into your chest. "i’m fine," you confessed, avoiding his gaze and breaking free from his grip.

megumi sighed, running a hand through his hair in exasperation. "you're injured, and you’re still trying to hide it from me? seriously?" he scolded, frustration becoming more evident.

“fine then.”

he looked away, and you felt a twinge of regret at the way he responded. but then there was a change in his attitude. as he reached for the first aid kit, his demeanor softened and his irritation vanished. silently, he whispered, "let's get you patched up," megumi’s voice was soft yet stiff.

as he tended to your wounds in silence, the tension in the room dissipated. his touch was tender, his movements careful as he bandaged your injuries. when he finished, he looked up, green pupils meeting yours.

"you make me worry, you know that?" 

ITADORI YUUJI. you stumbled through the door, trying to hide the wince as pain shot through your side. itadori was waiting, his eyes lighting up as he saw you, but then furrowing with concern as he noticed your slight limp.

"baby, you're back! how did it go?" he asked.

you forced a smile, trying to brush off the pain. "good, thank god it was just a second grade curse," you replied, hoping he wouldn't see through your facade.

your boyfriend, though, remained unconvinced. "are you sure you're alright? you’re limping.”

you hesitated, but his genuine concern melted away your resolve. you felt bad for keeping it from him, but at last you said, "well, there might be a small injury, but it's nothing serious." 

instantly, itadori's expression softened, and he wrapped you in a tight hug that made you let out a small ouch. "don't hide these things from me," his breath warm against your ear. “let me help you tend your injuries, baby. do you need shoko or just an aid kit?”

GOJO SATORU. the mission had been tougher than anticipated, but you knew gojo would worry if he saw how badly you were hurt. so you played pretend and hoped it would be enough. gojo was lounging on the couch, one arm draped over the backrest, his usual smirk playing on his lips. his eyes, hidden behind his pitch black glasses, seemed to twinkle as he looked up at you. "oi, you're back earlier than i expected."

you nodded, keeping your movements slow and controlled. "yeah, managed to wrap things up quicker than i thought." he tilted his head, a curious glint in his eye. "really? no trouble at all?"

"none," you lied, forcing a laugh. "just the usual."

gojo's smile faltered, just for a second, but you caught it. he stood up and sauntered over to you, his gaze never leaving your face. "hey, you know," he began, voice dropping to a lower, more serious tone, "i can see right through you, babe. you're hurt."

"i'm okay, satoru. really."

he reached out, gently but firmly taking your arm. "don't lie to me." his fingers brushed against a particularly sore spot, and you winced despite yourself. “look?”

"satoru, i didn't want you to worry—“

he cut you off, his grip tightening just enough to keep you still without causing more pain. "hm, too late for that, baby," he said with a mix of irritation and concern. "let me take care of you."

you sighed, realizing there was no point in hiding it anymore. "okay, but just... be gentle, alright?"

he led you to the couch, his touch surprisingly tender as he helped you sit down. "i'm always gentle," he teased, but his eyes were serious as he examined your injuries. "you should've told me right away."

YUUTA OKKOTSU. he eyed you for a moment, his smile fading slightly. "babe, you alright? you seem a bit... off."

"just tired. it's been a long day." you waved a hand dismissively, nothing to worry, you wanted to tell him that.

yet, yuuta's gaze still lingered on you, eyes narrowing slightly. "alright," he said slowly, "if you say so."

you made your way to the bathroom, trying to move naturally despite the pain. you thought you had managed to convince him, but as you stood in front of the stall, trying to remove your clothes without aggravating your injuries, the man appeared in the doorway.

"let me help you with that," he said softly, moving to stand beside you.

you blinked, surprised. "yuuta, really, i'm fine. you don't have to—”" then he gently took your hand, eyes full of concern. "please, let me help you tend your wounds, babe.”

thinking again, you hadn't said anything about being hurt, but somehow he knew. "how did you..”

your boyfriend smiled faintly. "i could tell. i know you too well." his fingers brushed lightly over a bruise that was starting to show through your shirt. "you don't have to hide it from me."

you sighed, feeling a mix of relief and resignation. "i just didn't want you to worry."

yuuta shook his head, his expression tender. "i worry more when you try to hide things from me. so don’t do it again, you hear me, babe?”

@uzurakis

[sc0tters]

Loved You Forever | Luke Hughes

summary: four times you and luke knew you both wanted more, the one time a move was made, and the one time you both actually remembered it.

request: yes/no

warnings: underaged drinking (if you're american), minimal swearing.

word count: 6.16k

authors note: happy February loves! I realised that this might have been a better valentines day piece but too late? I am actually in love with this piece though and it was seriosuly so much fun to do another 5+1 thing and I'm pretty sure that this is my first proper attempt at it. I am nothing but a slut for best friends to lovers with Luke! After the loss tonight I think we all deserved something sweet so I also think this might be one of my first attempts at tooth rooting of sweet?

Luke had been in your life for as long as you could have remembered. 

The two of you met during a day at the park, you had been desperate to be on the seesaw but as your siblings got caught up with Jack and Quinn it left you alone, sat on the one side all by yourself “can I join?” Luke asked pointing at the seat that was in the air. 

A grin spread across your face “you wanna sit with me?” You asked almost not believing him “yeah you seem sad.” It seemed that it was all it took for your friendship to be formed. 

Hours were spend on that seesaw over the autumn months as you got to know him. You were no longer the sad lonely girl to him, now you were the fun and chatty one who had a dog. 

𝟏

You had been a bundle of nerves the entire week. 

In the week leading up to prom your dress was in need of alterations and your date had decided that going with the captain of the cheer team was far better suited to his taste than you. Your curling iron had also decided the morning of prom that it was going to stop working.

So while you felt like the world was against you, Luke decided to step him. He had gotten Ellen to drop off a brand new one courtesy of him of course, with a note saying that he couldn’t want to see you that night. 

The moment that he learnt about you no longer having a date he changed his own plans, well first he actually did a happy dance because now you were single which he appreciated. But then he told the hockey boys that he was breaking from the pact of going as a group. At first they all gave him stick, but when they learnt it was for you they understood. 

Because even if you were totally off limits and so clearly Luke’s girl, they all had eyes as a hormonal teen boy. And you were a total package. 

So that was how Luke ended up on what was a date but didn’t feel like it because he felt like your second choice, even if he had never been the one to ask you in the first place. Gosh he had seen all of the cringey proposals online but he knew you would have loved one of those. Something to laugh about afterwards that could be cherished as a memory forever.

Jim placed his hand on Luke’s shoulder pulling him out of this thoughts “you okay bud?” He asked cocking his head as he furrowed his eyebrows “I’m good.” Luke nodded “just worried about the time.” It was a lie but it was enough to take the attention off of him and his thoughts.

Your mom looked at her watch “y/n are you coming down anytime soon!” She called up the stairs fearing that you’d end up late and miss the limo that your friends had arranged after pictures. 

You turned down your music as you rolled your eyes. In your opinion you weren’t late, just pulling everything out of your drawers because you couldn’t find the perfect earrings to go with your dress “yeah, yeah I’ll be down there!” You yelled back focusing on what you were doing. 

Luke stood between his parents and yours “sorry about her.” Your mom apologised as she softly shook her head, knowing that this was how you were “it’s okay I mean she’s.” Luke was lucky he was cut off because it meant that he didn’t have to come up with an end to his statement. 

“I’m ready!” Your words traveled down to the group causing all of their heads to turn to your bedroom door. You were right by the top of the staircase so there wasn’t much of a walk for you before your dress was revealed in all its glory “wow.” Luke thought he had said it softly enough for nobody to hear. But the smile on Jim’s face said it all, he knew his son was in love as he watched you twirl all excited for him to finally see the dress.

The red dress hugged every part of your body that you wanted it to. And now with the alterations your slit showed the right amount of leg, it was enough to look hot but not enough to the point where the dress wouldn’t have been appropriate for a high school prom.

Luke felt his throat grow dry seeing you at the top of the stairs, with a smile painted on your face. You looked gorgeous, in every sense of the word as you radiated this glow that encapsulated your body. 

His hands grew sweaty, gripping at your corsages packaging. Watching you walk down the stairs, the sounds of your mom in awe with your dad taking pictures turned to background noise. Luke couldn’t understand how you were panicking about your hairstyle to him at lunch all week, because it seemed like it was made for you. 

You stopped on the final step holding your hand out to Luke, enjoying the moment of him in his navy blue suit. It was easy to see that he had just had his hair cut, but you weren’t going to make a comment about it as you appreciated the effort. 

Sure you wouldn’t have cared if Luke showed up in jeans and his crocs, but he knew how important the night was to you so he made it important to him. His hand was soft against yours as he helped you down the final step “you look-” he cut himself off, opting to take the chance to bask in your beauty once more. 

It made you rub your lips together nodding in agreement “you too.” The sight made Ellen place her hand on her heart. Her youngest son here stood tall and all cleaned up, in front of the girl that his parents wished he’d date. 

Luke let out a soft gasp remembering that he was still holding your corsage “this is yours.” He scratched the back of his neck nervously, hoping you’d like it “it’s so pretty Lukey.” You held the plastic container in your hands pulling out the pink arrangement. 

You handed it back to him “put it on f’me will ya?” You asked watching him nod “sure.” He obliged your request seeing how pretty it looked with your manicured nails. 

Your eyes shone looking at it “it’s perfect.” You confessed leaning up to kiss his cheeks “thanks, Lukey.” You gave his arms a squeeze before you settled back in front of him. 

He prayed his cheeks didn’t betray him as they felt warm “anytime.” Luke honestly would have done anything to bring that smile out and for you to kiss his cheeks again. Even as he hoped he’d be lucky to kiss you properly one day, he prayed that this wasn’t the last time he’d get to feel one of your kisses. 

𝟐

Your high school graduation was not what you expected it to be. Sure you expected to be a little emotional leaving the place that had helped shape you into the person you were set to become. It was the place where Luke cemented his life long place as your best friend. 

You held your diploma in your hand as you searched through the crowd for him “y/n!” Luke cheered causing you to whip around. 

His smile matched yours as you let out a squeal before you ran into his arms. You almost knocked him over as you laughed “someone’s excited ‘eh?” He let out a soft laugh settling you back on your feet. 

He had spent a portion of his afternoon wishing he told you how pretty you looked “I mean how can I not be we have like properly graduated.” If you looked back at the memory now you would have laughed, you felt so prepared for the big world when in actuality you were still so young with so much more growing to do. 

Luke smiled “I mean we always knew you were going to.” Brains had always been your thing, much more than Lukes at least.

You looked at the athletics band around his shoulders “and you got this.” You toyed with the ends of it in your hands “I think we both should be proud today.” You had succeeded in your own fields, reminding each other why you did so well as friends because you were so different.

Luke could see that something else was on your mind “what is it?” He asked, seeing that there was a glimmer of excitement like you were trying to hold back a bomb of importance. You felt like a child who had been trying their best to hold off on telling the secret they promised their parents that they would keep to themselves. 

You pulled the grad cap off of your head as you took in a deep breath “remember how I told you that I wasn’t sure where I was going because of those scholarship applications?” You were the more academically inclined out of the two of you, to the extent that you did have a good chance to get some scholarships. 

This was why you hadn’t decided where exactly you were going, so Luke hadn’t been told of any of the places that had accepted you. This was the first and last time that you were ever going to be holding a secret from him, the last few weeks felt like your very own definition of torture “so you remember how we applied to some of the same schools?” You asked, reminding him that three schools appeared on both of your lists. 

He nodded, raising his eyebrows and urging you to continue, “well one of those schools was UMich, and I got in.” Luke let out a gasp, knowing exactly where this conversation was about to go “yes?” He urged you to carry on so he didn’t celebrate prematurely. 

You rubbed your lips together “well how do you feel about getting an apartment roomie?” It had been a conversation since you were both eight years old, if you went to uni together, then you were going to be roommates to some degree. 

Luke finally allowed himself to cheer as he pulled you into a hug. He spun you around as he let himself celebrate the news “I can’t believe that we are staying together.” He was honestly in shock as he finally placed you back on the ground. 

In the distance stood your mom and Ellen, who watched the interaction unfold in front of them “I wonder if this is what they need to take a step forward.” Everyone but the two of you knew about the undeniable feelings between you both. They knew it was asking for a lot, though, because you two had been around each other for so long that maybe it just wasn’t meant to be and maybe that was okay. 

Ellen smiled as she watched Luke grab your hand before he pulled you into a group of people “I think that maybe they are only going to be friends.” She let out a sigh as the words left her lips. Boy did she hope that the two of you proved her wrong.

𝟑

Luke had yet to come down from the high that was being drafted to the same team as Jack. He was absolutely ecstatic and having you there too was the perfect moment for him. His family had all come along and they mixed with his friends, every one of his supporters were in that room. 

He almost got emotional when he thought about it because none of you had to come, not to the bar afterwards and not to the draft itself either. But when his name was called by the New Jersey Devils Luke just remembered pulling you into this hug as Jack hit his back in excitement.

You were his absolute best friend and world so it was never a surprise that Luke hugged you first but still fans had been going on about how Luke basically blanked his future teammate at first. People who followed Luke’s days at Michigan knew who you were, if someone listened to Luke talk for long enough you were brought up in a conversation. And it wasn’t that it was weird for him but it was because you did everything with him so away from the ice, you were attached to every memory.

But for the people who hadn’t paid attention, you were the mystery girlfriend in their eyes. So you were also now the new target of everyone’s Instagram searches. Their comments to you saying they wished they were Luke’s girlfriend made you laugh, because you felt the same way. His name had been circled with hearts in the corners of your notebook pages. They were left in the math and English books because you knew that was where Luke would never have looked.

Luke would never have admitted it aloud but he knew whenever you weren’t in a room. The sound of your laugh burning at his ears, how you seemed to radiate this sense of light and warmth that could be felt through the room. He had been caught up in a conversation with his parents friends when he had lost that feeling. 

It was clear to them that Luke had his mind somewhere else, or well they knew it was with someone else so they let him go. You were nowhere to be seen as his eyes scanned the crowded bar “she’s out front I think Lukey!” Jack slurred his words clearly drunk but still knowing all too predictable his younger brother was. 

Luke felt his cheeks grow warm as his eyes went wide “relax dude, just go to her.” Jack laughed as he rolled his eyes, not caring about it before he went off again. 

He tried to make it subtle to anyone who watched but Luke headed straight for the door where he of course found you. You were still in his devils cap as he put it on you when he finished his media interviews. An awful attempt at a joke was made when he said that you could be a player now too.

It looked so good on you as he smiled “there you are.” It was like a weight off of his shoulders when he found you. 

You were in your own little world before you looked at him “shouldn’t you be inside?” You asked as you cocked your head “this is a party for you after all.” Luke rolled his eyes, turning the cap around so that he could see your face not covered by the lid of the cap. 

He leaned against the wall next to you “I wanted to be with you though.” You blushed at the words, your hand reached for his “I just wanted a bit of air is all.” You explained putting his mind at ease as he had worried that you were overwhelmed. 

You licked your lips “I’m proud of you tonight.” The confession made his ears ring as his head felt fuzzy “all I did was get drafted.” Luke always was one to downplay his achievements, but you never let him succeed.

A laugh escaped from you lips “Lukey you were drafted fourth and to your brothers team.” You reminded him in a duh tone “you’re actually gonna be an NHL player now.” It had been his dream for as long as he could speak, from the moment you turned seven it even had a space on your vision board cementing itself in the right hand corner. That’s how much you knew he was getting into the big leagues.

Luke looked up at the night sky before he let out a sigh “god everything is going to change isn’t it?” He chewed at the inside of his cheek feeling your eyes piercing into his soul.

The words echoed in your ears as you pushed off of the wall before you stood in front of him. Things didn’t need to change, in fact you didn’t want them to. 

You smiled as you held your pinky out to him “what is this?” He asked mimicking your movements “a promise that I will always be with you.” Your voice was sweet as you nodded. 

Luke knew he was wrong but part of him thought about how beautiful you looked in the light, how kissable your lips looked too “forever and ever?” Luke cocked his head letting a grin spread across his lips. 

Your heart throbbed at the thought, you wanted Luke around for all that time and more “forever and ever.” You agreed locking your pinky into his before you both kissed your thumbs. 

The gesture seemed small but it was something that you both could agree on. For you and Luke, it meant that the promise was written in the stars as if you had written it on sand. With every passing wave that came in with the tide, the message still stood. 

𝟒

Luke hated the fact that he was leaving soon. He knew that his time with you at university was always going to have an expiration date, but he never thought it was going to come so soon. 

You two spent all of your life together, often moving within six months of the other. So now if he really was leaving you then it felt like this was the last time. 

Your paths had always been one of the same, with both of you never straying far away from the other. Luke had gotten so used to you being around that the only person who he was worried about leaving was you. 

Life had always been the y/n and Luke party that he didn’t know how you were going to react if he left you “what’s going on in that mind of yours?” You asked finding him sat by himself. 

He smiled seeing you stumble in his direction “I am just thinking.” He confessed watching you sit on his lap, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. 

A giggle escaped from your lips “ain’t that dangerous.” Those words made him scoff as his eyebrows furrowed. 

You seemed so care free in that moment, it made him envy you. How did it all seem so easy for you as he felt like his head was barely above water, drowning with worry “I am kidding.” You rubbed his cheek against your thumb “what are you thinking about?” You asked urging him to let you into his thoughts. 

Your hand squeezed his cheek reminding him that you were there for him “what if I don’t make the right call going.” Luke felt that a weight was lifted off of his shoulders letting that confession slip “I think that the universe is going to put you in the best position for you long term.” You truly believed that everything happened for a reason, so if the agent did come and ask Luke to join the devils like you knew they would, then it was the right thing for him.

It seemed that you always knew what to say to him “and what do you think I should do-” Luke hugged you not taking a chance to let him finish “you are going.” You stopped him from trying to hug you. 

He raised his eyebrows “I am?” Your tone made him think you were going to be forcing him onto that plane if you had to. 

Luke ran his fingers through your hair “y’know I’m happy that you’re going.” Your confession made him furrow his eyebrows “you are?” He cocked his head as he had of course told you all about the possibility of being signed the moment he learnt the agents were coming to Florida. 

You nodded sending him a smile “I mean this had been your dream like forever and Jack will be happy to have you there.” Your explanation calmed his heart, practically brushing the worries from his mind “and how do you feel about it?” The two of you were feeling a little more open tonight as you had a bit too much vodka sprite in your system to think clearly. 

A sigh escaped your lips “honestly I’m gonna miss you.” It was the first time you actually admitted that “but it makes me so happy that you get to live out your dream.” Your hand ran along his shoulder. 

A smile formed on his face “I love you.” He blurted out unaware of the ramifications it could have had “I love you too.” You mumbled kissing his cheek. 

Luke frowned knowing that you didn’t acknowledge what he meant, he was in love with you. 

𝟓

Christmas with the Hughes family was something that you had always loved. It seemed to be a family tradition for you too as you always seemed to crack a nod to the event. 

Selfishly you loved that it was in Michigan, the short drive from campus meant that it was where you spent the first half of your Christmas break. Your parents came down to them and then brought you back home afterwards and it was the perfect little routine. 

This Christmas felt particularly refreshing as you had missed Luke, it was the first Christmas since he made the move to New Jersey and it meant that you two were forced to pack everything into the days he had off. Years of perfectly crafted Christmas traditions forced into three days that you usually put into two weeks. 

The days felt jam packed not that you or Luke cared, the only time you weren’t with each other was when you went to the bathroom. Nights he had home were spent talking to you until the sun played peek a boo in the curtains. 

Christmas night was by far your favourite highlight though, matching sweaters with Luke and eating so much that you were in a food coma. But this year something felt different, you couldn’t put your finger on it and part of you didn’t want to acknowledge it. 

You were never one to push out of your comforts and you just assumed that Luke would share the details of his life if he wanted to “will you excuse me for just a sec?” You asked cutting off one of Quinn’s old friends as you saw Luke heading up the stairs. 

The boy shot you a smile and motioned to you to go. Nobody ever needed to look hard into the relationship, you looked at Luke like he was the man who made the moon and the stars that sprinkled around the universe. It may not have been the case but he was the light of your universe and the stars of your eyes. 

Jack and Quinn couldn’t help but watch, softly elbowing each other as they knew it was only you and Luke up there “think they’re finally gonna do it?” Jack asked sipping at the eggnog from his cup. 

Quinn pursed his lips together “I think it’s been a little too long for that.” The captain craved to be proven wrong, this was probably the first and the last time he touch of that really.

You saw Luke on his phone “hey,” your voice was soft wanting to check up on him “oh hi.” Luke smiled turning around to see you. 

His phone got tucked into his back pocket “thought you were going to still be downstairs.” He added, having had watched you talk away with that boy most of the recent hour. 

But you shook your head “I wanted to check on up on you.” The act was something meant to be innocent, like it always was. Because you cared for him, this was the what you were meant to do, and what you had always done.

It made him smile “look if you want a quiet day tom-” you were almost immediately cut off “I actually just want to spend time with you alone.” Luke explained making your heart feel so full. 

You loved the way that he had with words even if you envied him, it made it so much easier falling in love with him “so you wanna stay up here for a bit?” The request made you nod, taking his hand with a squeeze as the two of you took the three step walk to his room.

His door opened letting the mistletoe drop from the frame that was only seen when the lights turned on, causing your eyes to go wide “shit.” Luke grumbled as it sat between the two of you. It was like a sign from the universe, begging for one of you to put it out of its misery. 

The mistletoe stood above the two of you, shining like it was sent from the gods to put you both out of your misery “we don’t have to.” Luke felt his jaw go slack, not wanting to make you uncomfortable as you stared up at the leaf fixture “Jack thought it was funny to put it there.” He added remembering how he was actually planning on removing it the night before. 

Oh how different that night would have turned out if he had. 

A dry laugh left your lips “who are we to go against an age old tradition?” You asked letting your eyes lock onto his “are you sure?” Luke studied how plump your lips were and god he just wanted to kiss them. 

You ran your fingers over the knitted fabric that was your Christmas sweater “I feel like I should be asking you that?” You shot back slightly raising your eyebrows as you felt that he was trying to tell you something in a softer way. 

Oh god no, he thought to himself shaking his head “I do wanna kiss you!” The panic escaped in his voice, doing little to help his nerves as his heart and mouth betrayed his brain “but only if you want to kiss me too.” The boy straightened his shirt with a cough attempting to block the embarrassment that  came over his cheeks. 

You smiled with a nod “I wanna kiss you Lukey.” Your head buzzed as you drunk one too many vodka cranberries that night.

His hand cupped your cheek as he nodded “and we agree that this won’t make anything awkward right?” His words made you roll your eyes. Sure you knew he was being cautious and you should have appreciated how much he cared for your feelings, but god you just wanted to kiss him.

So that’s what you did, you wrapped your arms around his neck so that you could bring him down to you. The move took the boy by surprise as he steadied himself placing his other hand on your hip. His lips were rough against yours, reminding you that you needed to buy him a chapstick he’d actually like. 

Luke always knew that your lips were going to taste good, but he never could have predicted that you could have taste that sweet. It caused this buzzing sense in his head that only stopped when you pulled away just as the sound of footsteps came from the stairs “oh good mom you found it!” Quinn called out going back downstairs. 

You drank in the sight of Luke, your lip gloss shone on his lips as he fiddled with his hair “I guess we should go back down?” Luke asked with a shrug as you nodded “maybe just-” you brought your thumb to his lip. Brushing your finger against his lip to collect the product from his lips “there.” You took a step back with a smile seeing that there was now no evidence of the fact that you had kissed him. 

The only issue with this kiss was that neither one of you would remember it. Well you both it, but because it was what you had longed for, it felt like a dream. And with the fear of rejection creeping up your neck like an uncontrollable rash, it was best to keep it all to yourselves. 

Because after all how does one ask someone if they really did kiss last night?

+𝟏

The crackling noises of the burning wood echoed in your ears as you stared at the campfire “you should talk to her.” Quinn’s voice was soft, somehow still startling Luke who stood by the cooler. 

His hand gripped at the new beer can “why would I do that?” Luke asked, adjusting his gaze to make out that he wasn’t looking at you “are we seriously going to do this again?” Quinn couldn’t help but let out a laugh. 

He had spent what felt like Luke’s whole life watching the both of you dance around your feelings. Luke’s lips turned upright into a smile at the sound of your laughter, which made his heart bloom with joy, but that was short-lived when he saw Jack being the cause of what you found so funny. 

Luke’s lips were quickly forced into a thin line as his hand tightened around his drink “Luke, Jack is the last guy that she would ever go for.” Quinn reminded his brother, placing his hand on his taller brothers back. 

It made the Devils player furrow his eyebrows “you don’t know that.” Everyone in fact knew that, Jack was the kind of man that you would have ended up killing if you had to live with him for the rest of your life. Hell even Luke knew it, but he was willing to forget about the logic. He never seemed ready to acknowledge that there was a chance you could like him back.

A whine escaped your lips “y’know lying is just mean right?” You sunk back into your chair “yeah well I ain’t lying.” Jack shot back rolling his eyes. 

You clearly didn’t believe the boy as your arms crossed “fine look at them right now and if he isn’t then I will shut up.” Jack clasped his hands together as if a lightbulb had turned on above him. You sighed sending him a nod as you turned your body back to the porch, allowing your eyes to scan the area for Luke. The boy cut himself off in the conversation with Quinn when your eyes locked with his “this means nothing.” You mumbled still in denial. 

It honestly should have been so obvious to you both, I mean everyone around you both noticed but the two of you.

The night carried on with you trying to ignore Jacks comments as Luke did the same. Cole let out a yawn as he blinked “I think it is time for bed.” He announced placing his hands in his thighs as he got up watching a few of the guys agree with him.

As the last two besides for you and Luke, Quinn patted Jacks shoulders “why don’t we head up to bed too?” He asked, barely giving his younger brother a chance to say no. Jack was pulled up as he sent you both a salute “don’t stay up too la-” his tease was cut off when Quinn slapped his hand over Jacks mouth. 

Luke watched Quinn and Jack walk back into the house before he turned back to see you smiling at him “what?” Luke asked pushing his curls out of his eyes. 

He worried that he had something on his face “why don’t you come sit with me?” You offered, patting the camping chair next to you. It felt weird having him sat on what felt like the other side of the fire, he was way too far away from you for your own liking “do I have to?” Luke let out this dramatic sigh letting you know he was messing with you as he got up. 

It was nice just being alone with him away from just your bedroom. Since he moved to New Jersey you really did appreciate the one on one time that you got with him “I’m glad you came this year.” Luke confessed finally taking his place in the chair next to you. 

You rested your head against the back of your chair “I’ll always come for you.” Your hand reached for his wanting to reassure him “unfortunately for you the return policy on this friendship is long expired so you’re like really stuck with me.” You spoke in a serious tone that made him laugh. 

Luke squeezed your hand “darn I was just figuring out how to write my reason for returning ya.” You reached out to hit him “and what was that going to be?” You cocked your head running your tongue along your teeth as you smirked. 

He felt his heart pound sitting closer to you “don’t think it makes a lot of sense yet.” Luke shook his head, not having an actual answer for you. 

The crackle of the fire served as the perfect background noise “well you’ve got to speak now or else you might really be stuck with me.” You pointed out sticking your tongue out at him making the boy grin as he shook his head. 

Truthfully he was never going to return you, hell it was going to have to be you returning him if anything. Even then he was not going to leave you without a fight to stay.

Luke ran his fingers along your jaw “I think coming to Jersey would be good for you.” He knew it was one of your options for what you’d do after you graduated “oh god are we gonna be those friends who end up living next to each other and raise their kids together?” You laughed opting to cover the nerves that coarsed through your veins. 

It made the boy shake his head “can I tell you something?” He asked sucking at his teeth “you know you can tell me anything.” You nodded ignoring how close your face was to his. 

Luke could hear Jack and Quinn in his mind screaming at him to finally stop being such a baby and just tell you how he felt “and it can’t change our friendship.” You now grew worried at words “you’re scaring me.” That was also what Luke didn’t want. 

So before he dug himself into a hole he just decided to jump off of the decision cliff he was on “I like you.” The words escaped from his lips “so when you talk about us living next to each other with our families it’s not nice.” He shook his head watching you listen.

But he didn’t stop there “and it kills me that you don’t feel the same-””you think I don’t like you?” You asked letting out a laugh as he nodded. 

You threw your head back shaking your head “oh god Luke I’m mad about you.” The words were meant to be innocent but they lit a fire under his ass “but then why do you talk about us raising separate families together?” Luke scoffed almost thinking that this was a dream and you were joking. 

But still it was your turn to explain to him “I thought that it was all I’d get.” You shrugged feeling your cheeks grow warm. 

Under the moonlight as the fire illuminated your face, you looked beautiful “can I kiss you?” The question was something you had wanted to hear for such a long time now “yeah.” You nodded with a grin dropping your head as he cupped your cheek so that you could kiss him. 

The kiss had you swearing that fireworks should have been going off around you guys. The boy was sweet letting the taste of whatever lipgloss you wore make him feel drunk. Was it vanilla? Or maybe even cherry? Well he didn’t really care, it taste good and he was getting to kiss you.

Jack and Quinn stood in the kitchen watching with smiles on their faces “who would have thought that it would take them this long to finally get together?” He laughed shaking his head “I am just glad that we don’t have to put up with another summer of these two and their puppy dog glances.” Quinn shuddered at the thought, mentally cringing at the idea of having to listen to Luke psych himself out of telling you how he felt. 

But what both boys forgot, was that when you have been in love with someone for so long, when you finally get them you enjoy it “oh god.” Jack slapped his hand over his mouth watching Luke pull you onto his lap. 

His hands cupped your ass, deepening the kiss as you were addictive to Luke “and just like that it got weird.” Quinn announced listening to Jack agree as they shut the blind of the kitchen window, opting to finally give you both some privacy. 

[minarisplaything]

Loyalty

hanni x male reader (ft. background Danielle, Minji, and Haerin) word count: 3,335 a/n: back from the grave with a topical one-shot. newjeans never die... disclaimer: this is a work of fiction and does not represent any individuals, situations or real life. summary: After a shake-up at Ador the whole staff were let go. You were brought in as part of the new hires, specifically to be one of the managers for NewJeans. Weary from the last regime, the members want to make sure that they can trust you, inviting you to a private meeting to see where your loyalties lie.

The last thing you expected when you were hired by Ador to be part of the new management for the global sensation NewJeans was to be called in for a meeting by the members themselves. You had expected you'd introduce yourself at some point, after all, you'd be one of the core managers after the staff turnover, but what you hadn't expected was for it to feel so formal.  

You shifted in your seat, feeling slightly anxious as you waited for...whatever this was, to begin.  

"Oppa, you don't have to be nervous," Danielle said, her voice as sweet as her appearance. 

From the outside looking in, Danielle had always struck you as the sweetest of the bunch. The type of woman who would comfort anyone and brighten their day with kind words.  

"Yeah, we just want to make sure everyone is on the same page" Minji added, seated to Dani's left. Her voice was soft, but more firm than Danielle's. Where Dani offered you a sweet, reassuring smile, Minji looked far more serious in her expression. It was hard not to be nervous.  

"That's good to hear," you chuckled, trying to dispel the nerves. "When you four said you wanted to meet I was a little uneasy." 

To call it unusual was an understatement. Yet here you were, in a chair seated across from four of the five members: Danielle, Minji, Hanni, and Haerin. 

"It's been really hard to figure out who we can trust," Hanni chimed in. Her voice was sympathetic. As if she was finding the middle ground between the prior two. "With all this turnover, we just want to make sure the new staff has the right priorities."  

You swallowed thickly. Why did that feel like a threat?  

Your eyes turned towards Haerin, expecting her to chime in. But she merely continued to stay at you silently with her cat-like gaze. You shifted again in your seat slightly, trying to dismiss any feeling of discomfort and remain professional. You hadn't felt nearly this anxious during your initial interview for this position.     

"I-I see. Well, that is understandable. It's a big change after all," you said. "Whatever I can do to help ease any concerns you might have, I'll do it." 

"I knew you'd understand," Dani clasped her hands together, her smile beaming. 

Minji, however, seemed less convinced. "We'll see." 

Hanni folded her hands on the table that was situated between the four of them and you, her eyes compassionate. "The one thing we're most worried about is loyalty. The last staff was loyal to HYBE. We want to make sure that you are loyal to us. That you won't do anything to hurt us. That you'll listen to us." 

Her voice lowered an octave at the last part.  

"That sounds...reasonable."  

Honestly, it sounded complicated. You hadn't exactly signed up for being part of some corporate politics when you submitted your resume. But, you supposed you could understand where they were coming from. They had been hurt and wanted to make sure they could trust you. Fair enough. "How can I prove myself?" 

"Meow," Haerin spoke up.  

You blinked, confused. "Um, excuse me?"  

"She said she wants you to take off your pants," Minji provided.  

"My...pants...?" 

Had you heard her right? Surely you must have misheard. Yet you looked at each woman; the subtle glint in Minji's eyes, Hanni's lips curved in the hint of a smile, Dani's soft encouragement, and Haerin with her un-blinking feline gaze. There was no hint of this being a prank or a joke. They were serious. You felt your blood rush a bit quicker at that realization. 

“It’s just a little request. You said you'd prove yourself, right?” 

It was Dani's sweet voice that broke the tension. Her question leads you toward the answer she wanted to hear. 

You felt heat rising to your cheeks. This was insane. Unhinged even. And no doubt not covered under any HR guidelines. You could get up and walk out that door. You'd probably lose your job but at least you'd keep your clothes on. Then again, you'd also prove you weren't someone who could be trusted. And, quietly, the idea of standing before them with fewer clothes stirred something inside of you. 

Wordlessly you stood, your fingers moving to the button of your slacks as you undressed. It was hard not to feel a little self-conscious as you stripped down but you got on with it, eventually standing before them in just your boxers and shirt. 

You could feel their eyes devouring you.  

Hanni leaned over to Minji, whispering something in her ear. Dani continued to smile, while Haerin's expression remained unreadable. 

"Is this good enough?"  

"Meow." 

You looked over at Minji for a translation. 

"And your boxers." 

"What?"  

Your eyes widened. She was fucking with you, surely. You looked back to Haerin to see if that was a mistranslation. She, however, stared back at you, waiting for you to fulfill her request. Your cock twitched, another shiver running down your spine. 

"Not now, dammit," you muttered at your cock but to no avail. 

"Not now?" Hanni repeated, misunderstanding, "So, you don't want to work with us, oppa?" 

"No, that's not what I meant --"  

"I told you we couldn't trust him." 

"Guys, just give him a second!" 

You could only sit there as Minji, Danielle, and Hanni broke out into disagreement over your participation. Your gaze drifted towards the far end of the table where Haerin sat with her same stoic expression and feline gaze directed right at you. It was as if the chaos around her didn't matter, she was waiting for you to fulfill her request. It was hypnotizing and slowly you found your hands drifting towards the waistband of your boxers.

You swallowed thickly, hesitating for a moment. The bickering between the members was growing louder, but all of it seemed to fade into the background as Haerin's stoic gaze practically dared you to go just one step further. 

This is insane, you thought. There was no HR manual in existence that could prepare you for this situation. And yet, you felt a dangerous thrill coursing through your veins. You were here, in a room with four of the most influential idols in the industry, and they had made it clear: you were either with them or against them. 

"Oppa?" Dani's voice snapped you out of your trance. They had apparently caught on to your subtle movement and the discussion had briefly stalled. There was still a gentle sweetness to her voice but there was something else to her tone. Almost like a hopeful plea. 

Hanni leaned back in her chair, her expression shifting to one of disappointment. "I think Minji is right, he can't do it." 

You could feel the situation slipping through your fingers. If you didn’t act now, there’d be no recovery from this. You'd be out of a job and you'd have lost all their trust. For some reason, the latter felt more painful than the former. Without another word, you hooked your thumbs into the waistband and pushed your boxers down, stepping out of them with as much composure as you could muster. 

The room went silent. 

Dani's eyes flickered down, her mouth slightly agape in shock. Hanni let out a quiet giggle as she leaned forward onto her elbows, peering at your cock from over the table. Minji’s stoic facade cracked just a bit, a glint of approval in her eyes. But it was Haerin who captured your attention the most. Her gaze slowly roved over your exposed body, her expression unreadable. Then, she leaned back, finally breaking eye contact to glance at Minji. 

“Meow,” she said again, her voice low and even softer than before. 

“What’s she saying now?” you asked, your voice cracking slightly, betraying your nerves. 

Minji leaned forward with her elbows on the table, her chin resting on her intertwined fingers. “She says you’ve passed the first test.”

"I knew you could do it, oppa!" Danielle cheered clasping her hands together. 

“The...first test?” you repeated, your heart sinking as you realized what that implied. 

"Did you think this was it? You wanted to prove your loyalty, didn’t you?” 

You swallowed thickly, your eyes darting from Danielle's happy expression to Minji's business-like demeanor and Haerin's unreadable disposition. All the while Hanni's gaze seemed completely focused on your hard cock. 

"Alright," you nodded, steeling your nerves a bit. You had come this far, how much worse could it get? "If that's what it'll take. I'm ready for whatever you have to put me through."  

"Oh, can I do the next one? Please?"  

It was Hanni who spoke up with a newfound excitement, breaking from her trance.  

"We agreed it'd be Minji who handled it," Danielle whispered.  

"So?" 

Minji looked over at Hanni, one eyebrow raised, “Fine. Go ahead, Hanni. Just remember what we talked about.” 

Hanni's face lit up at being given the green light. She quickly pushed her chair back, practically bouncing on her feet as she made her way over to you. The rest of the members leaned back, watching her with varied expressions — Dani with her usual supportive smile, Minji with a calculating gaze, and Haerin, as always, unreadable, though you thought you detected a flicker of interest in her eyes. 

You tried to hold your ground, but it was hard not to feel a shiver of anticipation as Hanni stopped in front of you, her eyes sparkling with a mixture of mischief and something else you couldn’t quite place. The way she was looking at you made your skin tingle and your cock twitch. Despite the uncertainty of it all you still managed to be horny in the middle of it. It was a fact you tried to push aside lest your embarrassment get the best of you. 

“Oppa,” she said, her voice sing-song and dripping with excitement, “you said you’re ready for whatever we put you through, right?” 

You nodded, your throat dry. “That’s right.” 

Hanni’s smile widened, and she reached up, her fingers brushing along your jawline in a surprisingly gentle touch. She tilted her head, almost as if she were examining you. “You’re really cute when you’re nervous,” she teased, her voice a whisper meant only for you. 

She took a step back and, without breaking eye contact, dropped to her knees in front of you. Your breath hitched at the sight, the tingling anticipation intensifying tenfold. What was she planning? 

“I’ve got a little game for us to play,” Hanni continued, her fingers tracing down the side of your thigh. 

"A game?"  

"Mhmm." 

Dani giggled behind her hand, while Minji leaned forward slightly.  

Hanni leaned closer, her hands now resting on your hips. You could feel the warmth of her breath against your skin, and it took everything in you not to shiver. She looked up at you through her lashes, her sweet smile taking on a devilish edge. 

“You proved you can follow instructions already, but can you show self-restraint?" 

Your heart pounded in your chest as you nodded. “I -- yes. I can."  

“Let's find out,” she purred. Then, without breaking eye contact, she slowly dragged her nails down your thighs, the sensation sending a shiver through your entire body. “I want you to close your eyes and hold still. And no peeking!” 

You hesitated for a brief moment, but the way she was looking at you made it impossible to refuse. With a deep breath, you let your eyes flutter shut, trusting her completely, even though you knew you were stepping into uncharted territory. 

“Don’t move a muscle, oppa. Not unless I tell you to.” 

You opened your mouth to confirm that you understood her instruction when you felt Hanni's fingers wrap around your engorged cock. You hissed, breathing in sharply and resisting the urge to arch into her touch. Had she lost her mind?! Then again, as much as you might've wanted to morally grandstand at that moment, the thoughts were quickly washed away by her other hands beginning to fondle your balls.  

"You can do it!" Danielle said supportively. 

She's right, you thought. You just had to focus. A simple handjob was nothing you couldn't handle. Hell, with your eyes closed you could  just pretend it was no different than getting yourself off.  

Just when you were beginning to feel confident about your chances, you felt something soft press against the sensitive head of your cock followed by something warm and wet. No, not something. It was Hanni's lips and mouth enveloping your cock while her hand held your shaft steady. 

"Oh fuck..." 

You let out a moan, doing your best to remain still, your toes curling in on themselves as Hanni sunk lower and lower onto your cock until you were hitting the back of her throat and even then she continued. You resisted the urge to tangle your hands in her hair as her nose came flush against your groin, swallowing your cock whole and deep-throating you for a long moment. What you wouldn't give to be able to open your eyes and look down to see the sight kneeling in front of you. To see Hanni Pham with your cock buried down her throat as she looked up at you with those pretty eyes.  

"Go Pham Hanni!" Dani cheered on her group mate.  

After a second longer, Hanni began to slowly pull off your cock, letting out a slurping sound before finally coming off it with a pop.  

Unbeknownst to you she had a glazed-over look in her eyes, her gaze thick with lust.  

"So far so good..."  

She said, almost sounding distracted. You had a feeling she was enjoying this more than simply being a test but swallowed down the thought as you felt Hanni suck the tip into her mouth, her tongue grazing along the underside of your shaft. She licked down your shaft, taking your cock deeper into her mouth again as she started to move her head with short, quick bobs.  

She relaxed her throat, taking you deeper, faster, and all you could do was curl your fingers into your palms and force your eyes shut with considerable effort. The rest of the room was noticeably quiet outside of the sounds of Hanni mouth-fucking herself on your cock and the occasional encouragement from Dani. Whether they were enjoying the show or simply watching with studious gazes, you hadn't the slightest clue. What you did know was the thought of them watching as Hanni swallowed you down greedily again and again had you aching between her lips. 

Hanni came off your cock once more, her breathing ragged. "D-did he fail yet?" 

"Not yet."  

It was Minji who answered.  

"Good." 

Hanni gave a long lick over the thick vein on the underside of your cock, going from base to tip. You shivered but remained in place. Her tongue teased the slit at the tip of your cock, swirling around it before taking your length between her lips once again. Her hands braced herself against your thighs as she began bobbing her head in earnest.  

"It feels good doesn't it?" 

"You have no idea." 

"I can tell. I bet you want to grab her head and fuck her mouth, don't you? You want to thrust your cock between those pretty lips until you finish." 

You felt Hanni moan around your cock, sending reverberations along your shaft.  

Minji continued, her hands folded neatly with her elbows propped up. "This is why we need this test. Self-control is crucial. There will be people who try to sway you—bribery, favoritism, or worse. They might offer money, promise promotions, or even tempt you with something... a bit like what Hanni’s doing right now.” 

You felt Hanni's lips smile around your cock at that. 

"Meow." 

Danielle glanced at Haerin, then turned back to you with a reassuring smile. "Haerin's got a point. We just want to see if you can handle this. You get what we're asking, right, Manager-nim?" 

Some part of your brain was recognizing the importance behind their words. The logic behind. Unfortunately, whatever part of your brain wasn't overloaded with pleasure sensors as Hanni played with your balls while continuing to suck your cock was too busy doing your best not to blow your hot load right down the singer's throat.  

Your throat felt dry, and you're head was spinning. All you could do was nod quickly, forcing out the words, "Y-yes, I understand." 

All the while your entire body trembled as you stood there, eyes clamped shut, hands balled into fists at your sides. You felt your toes curling against the cold floor, desperately trying to ground yourself as you fought to maintain your composure as Hanni continued to suck your cock. It was almost too much, and you could feel yourself reaching the breaking point. 

“H-Hanni, please…” you managed to gasp out, your voice strained, but you bit your lip, trying to hold back a desperate plea. You knew better than to give in now. Not when you were this close. 

"Meow." 

Danielle's lips spread into a smile. "I think you're right, he's getting close. You've done so good holding back, manager-nim!"  

Dani's praise fell on deaf ears. Your mind was gone at that point, focused only on holding onto whatever shred of control you had left for as long as possible. Amidst the pleasure and internal struggle you were experiencing there was a shuffling of feet and then silence, only filled by the lewd sounds of Hanni's lips around your aching length. You waited, every nerve in your body on edge. Finally, Hanni pulled off your cock with a long slurp and a pop, her hand still stroking you as she spoke up.  

“Alright, oppa. You can open your eyes now.” 

You exhaled sharply, almost in relief, and slowly let your eyelids flutter open. The sight that greeted you made your breath hitch. 

Hanni was still there, her delicate fingers stroking your aching cock. Her lips were red and swollen with evidence of her efforts, a bit of saliva spilling at the side of her mouth. However, she was no longer alone. She was now joined by Danielle, Minji, and Haerin, all kneeling next to her on the floor, the four of them lined up in a row before you. It was a sight that felt like something out of a fever dream — four of the most sought-after idols in the world, on their knees before you, gazing up with expressions that ranged from sweet to stern. 

“Oppa, you did so well!” Danielle was the first to speak, her voice filled with genuine warmth and excitement. 

“You didn’t break. Even when we pushed you. You listened to us when it mattered the most,” Minji said.  

Her tone was even but there was a hint of approval in her soft eyes.  Haerin, as always, remained the most unreadable. But you took the fact that she was there kneeling next to the others as her approval. 

"T-thanks, ah, this would be a lot easier if..."   

"Oh!"  

As if remembering the obvious the four girls leaning in close, looking up at you as Hanni stroked your cock faster.  

"Manager-nim, you can cum right now." 

The sultry words left her lips and that was all it took. The pressure valve was released and your cock twitched in her grasp, painting the faces of all four members with your seed. From your balls to the tip of your cock you felt it washing over you. A feeling so intense that you nearly blacked out from the experience.  

As you regained your composure with deep breaths, you looked down at the sight before you. "Shit..." 

And what a sight it was. 

"Manager-nim, welcome to the family," Hanni said, wiping some of your cum off her face and licking it off her finger. "We'll be counting on you!" 

"Meow!" 

You could only chuckle, drained literally and metaphorically. "I look forward to working with you all." 

[acid-ixx]

I have a question, well 2 questions to be exact that’s been rattling around in my head since I started reading platonic yandere batfam fics, why would reader stay in Gotham? I’d be sneakily stealing as much money as I could without getting caught as soon as I reach a “fuck these guys” mentality. Like, asking to have some money for groceries or something and just pocketing it so that I could get a bus ticket and leave the city. Would you do it if you were reader? It just makes sense to me “this place sucks, these people suck, I’ve gotten enough to leave”, this is with me assuming that reader has the means of course, if the reader doesn’t then okay, yeah that makes sense

And my second question, do you ever feel resentful towards Alfred when you read batfam photonic yandere content? I do sometimes, especially when the reader is neglected. I know this might sound odd but when I read these fics I recognize that Alfred could do more, out of everyone in the manner, I think Alfred’s word carries the most weight, especially with Bruce due to him raising Bruce. I also notice in some batfam fics that the reader doesn’t get mad at him due to him giving them attention, but idk it feels kinda like a slap to the face, knowing that I don’t have the power but he does and yet not exercising it until I’ve burned every last tie to that family.

I know my thoughts are a more “well you’re on the outside looking in” type takes, but idk, it hurts my heart knowing that if reader stays in that city, it will be far more easier for the batfam to find them, where if they were outside the city, they’d have a fighting chance to make a new life for themselves

On a side note, I think we are underutilizing the angst potential of reader legally changing their name and the batfam not knowing until months or even years later when reader leaves. Like Bruce and the fam would just have to sit and realize that reader hates/dislikes/doesn’t care about them enough to legally change their name from Wayne to whatever reader chooses. Jason was Batman’s greatest failure, but Reader would be Bruce’s greatest failure, and what a delightful public failure it would be if the tabloids were to somehow find out that one of Bruce Wayne’s biological children changed their legal name

I’m loving your batfam content btw, like it makes me want to create one of those “screw therapy, I need to fist fight my dad” tiktoks and tag Bruce Wayne, that’s what I can phenomenal writing!! And sorry for making this so long! Hope you have a great existence!

slight spoilers for future chapters.

this is one of my favorite asks... anon, you are so brilliant because your two questions tie into the reader's character so well and the flaws that they (you) conjured from years of neglect, so i hope my answers would suffice (i am answering based on the perspective of the reader from my series: again & again with a bit of my own perspective). tysm for sending this in, i actually really enjoy long asks and appreciate it when people take the time to send me these things!

why would the reader stay in gotham?

chapter one wasn't all the detailed about why they stayed in gotham. firstly, their self-worth had them reason that in no way, shape, or form would their family that basically estranged them would come running to them, especially not when the only time the reader could even stumble across them is by some miracle of coincidence. this also ties into their lack of knowledge about their family. sure, they know that babs is the oracle but do they know just how much access she has across gotham? not really. they know tim, like bruce, has a tendency to collect information about other people, but they don't know that they have contingency plans to be creeped out enough to get away from gotham and from their reach.

"it's not like tim or bruce or barbara considered you important enough to be stalked. hah, as if!"

and the third point is, despite bruce being a billionaire of some sort, it was stated that the reader was too well-behaved and quiet. how does this make sense? as you've stated, they wouldn't simply have the means to get out. seeing as they were sheltered by alfred and never really explored the concept of traveling far away, they never asked for money; the only advantage of being a wayne is having quite a lot of things served on a silver platter.

they have this sort of toxic bond for staying with the people who have hurt them and it materialized to them physically staying despite knowing it would only cause more pain than anything else, and they don't know that. plus, they'd rather not have the wayne name associated with them and getting money from cheques or credit cards would be too risky for the reader's safety.

they've only realized just how shitty their family is after more than 10-13 years of staying in the manor, and saving up to move to an entirely different place would be difficult, alongside college and the jobs they have to take. so the next best thing they could do is rely on any means of advantage they could get whilst also moving on to the path of self-discovery and recovery.

but that doesn't mean they're staying in gotham forever, definitely not. the moment the reader realizes that dick gained some sort of interest towards them, they're booking it out of gotham. preferably to metropolis or central city or even somewhere far, far away— they're naive, but not stupid. sudden interest towards them means danger rather than anything else. and they're aware that alfred is capable enough to pull strings, so that's why spoiler alert: they have a secret stash of money hidden somewhere and like any children of bruce, they inherited the capability to be smart enough to already back up their contacts and everything on their phone, buy a burner phone and even change their entire identity in one quick go right after they move into an entirely different city or country.

gotham is merely their practice course.

do you ever feel resentment towards alfred?

quite frankly, yes. the reader in the fic feels resentment towards everyone for a reason actually, but alfred's part was stated vaguely as to not spoil a future chapter that focuses on his perspective. they know that he has the more power inside the manor more than bruce has. everyone, and i mean everyone respects alfred, and it doesn't take a genius to know that if you mess with him, you're messing with an entire family of crime fighters.

it's not obvious, but the reader's narrative in chapter one is them trying so hard to delude themself into thinking things can be better until it's too late. so in a sense, there's false narrative coming into play.

"alfred would be too busy sometimes to attend your school ceremonies because he had to assist bruce with missions. of course, you understood his priorities. after all, he tried his hardest to make you feel less lonely inside the mansion, it wasn't enough but he was there at least."

at some point in time, alfred had also neglected the reader emotionally with the same reasoning as the others; he was busy with their father. and this all could've been avoided if alfred had tried to confront the entire family about it. i'm not delving deeper into this to really avoid spoilers other than pointing out some details in the first chapter.

just know that alfred relishes in your newfound favoritism towards him, and that he may or may not have pulled some strings himself from helping you become closer to the family.

the part about reading changing their name from (name) wayne to (name) (last name) is what made me so drawn to this ask. you have pretty much predicted one of the chapters that explored (name) wayne to the public eye. they're not so much of an internet celebrity because of their rare appearances in public, but that's what causes immense curiosity about their identity to uprise in gotham, and their fame was one of the means to get to you.

there was one news article published that was the reason that made bruce distant towards you.

but let's focus on what yan! bruce would've felt once he turns a full 360.

because the first thing he would do once he has you in his grasp is to change your last name back to his. you are not the child of a (last name), you are a wayne first and foremost, bruce's third child and his greatest mistake, quite literally. you were a product of a one-night-stand, and because he was drowning in despair from jason's death, he had failed to notice you. all his years of neglect, and he doesn't even know a single thing about you, simply because he refused to acknowledge your presence.

and you rightfully hated him, he should've accepted that. but your diary entries and the way you innocently thought of him destroyed any sliver of hope for a peaceful reconciliation. he hates how you were experiencing the same type of despair as him when it comes to battling your own monsters— you truly are a wayne at heart. he couldn't afford to let you get away any further. just like dick, he needs to fix it now or further sever the already broken ties you have with him.

it's not batman now, but rather bruce. bruce wayne had failed to save another one of his children, not as a vigilante, but as a father.

knowing bruce, he's quick to take into action and search for you.

holy shit, this is a really long post but i hope it does answer the questions ! im so grateful that you like my writing enough to write a really long ask, and i hope to see your messages more once the new chapters are published <3

[wriokitty]

part one ; office mate! gojo ; company heir! gojo ; female intern! reader ; fluff ; pre getting together

Satoru is good at getting things he wants. It’s not because he’s spoiled (although he’s that, too) but rather, it’s because he’s persistent. Annoyingly so. Persistent in that way where he doesn’t necessarily earn what he wants, but scores it just because the other party is tired enough to cave for the sake of some peace.

Case example: you.

You sit across from him as he happily sips on his excessively expensive coffee from all the extra syrups.

“How can you have that much sugar?” You cringe.

He raises an amused brow as he hums, “Because I don’t choose to be miserable. You should try it sometime.”

Glaring, you roll your eyes before taking a sip of your own coffee. Satoru is at least nice and chivalrous enough to pay for your coffee—although, knowing what you do now, it’s not exactly as though he can’t afford it. You’re pretty sure being the heir to the company you intern for means he’s loaded in enough money that a simple iced coffee isn’t too much of a dent in his pockets.

You give him an unimpressed frown before getting to the heart of the matter. “Why didn’t you tell me your dad owns the company?”

“Does it matter?”

“Yes,” you hiss, “I’ve been passive aggressively calling you a lazy asshole for two months!”

“Do you change your mind about that?” He asks infuriatingly calmly.

“No,” you admit. You take a long look at him before nodding in confirmation as you repeat, “No, I don’t.”

He pouts a little at that, still cute and aggravating at the same time. “Hey,” he says, only a little wounded and a whole lot excessively dramatic. You can tell he didn’t get a lot of attention growing up with the way he pulls theatrics. Something about the psychology of unmet emotional needs as a child from your one semester of psych in college comes back. “You don’t have to say it so condescendingly.”

“Well, you are lazy,” you point out. He shrugs because…well, it’s a fair point. “But now I know why.”

“So what, if you knew my old man was our big boss, you’d be nicer to me? Is that it?”

You crinkle your nose and give him a look of disbelief. “No,” you say—it’s almost amused. The first ounce of humor you’ve shown around him at all. “But I wouldn’t have wasted my energy caring that you’re a deadweight in the office.”

“Ouch,” he pouts, “I bought the coffee machine on our floor!”

“It’s getting rather faulty,” you hum, “You should consider investing in another one for us.”

Satoru likes that about you. You’re interesting. Interesting not because you’re exceptionally smart or all that impressive—not that you’re bad by any means. Being accepted as an intern here must mean your resume has a degree of prestige to it, but you’re just like any other person in the building. Except, instead of shrugging off his bratty, obnoxious self, you seem to care a great deal about what he does.

It greatly amuses him enough that you’ve sparked his interest.

“You’re fun,” he chuckles, “I like you. You’re not boring.”

“Just what every woman wants to hear,” you bat your lashes, sarcastically giving him a dreamy sigh, “Not boring. How charming of you.”

He grins wider, and something in your heart does a little bit of a clench. It’s so…pretty. Everything about him is pretty. The clean, pristine button down with perfectly ironed pants. The soft, messy hair that somehow adds to his expensive look rather than take away. Those bright, piercing blue eyes that feel like you’re lost in infinity when you look into them.

He’s pretty. Pretty annoying, too—but pretty all the same.

“I’m working on it,” he murmurs.

“What? Your manners?” You snort.

“My charm,” he corrects.

“We might be here for quite some time then,” you tease. You don’t know what it is. Falling into a bantering back and forth with him is so easy—so amusing and, if you’re honest, a tiny bit exciting.

Maybe a background of wealth and fortune makes a man appealing like that. Or maybe he’s just likable. You’re not sure yet.

“You’re saying you’ll be here waiting for me to get there?” He raises a brow, winking as he adds, “So maybe you’re charmed after all.”

“That’s a stretch,” you pretend to scoff. Nevermind the hardly hidden smile on your face—that means nothing. “I just want to watch you fail, that’s all.”

“And if I succeed?” He challenges, looking at you expectantly.

You roll your eyes, deciding to indulge him in whatever petty games he has going on. “In what, being charming?”

“Yes,” he nods, “What if I succeed in being an irresistible dreamboat of an office neighbor?”

“I doubt that’ll happen,” you bite your lip in an attempt to fight back a large, dimpled grin. It’s funny, you think—just up until a few hours ago, all he ever managed to do was pull your lips into a scowl. Now, it feels like it’s impossible not to stretch them into a smile. “But, if it does, I suppose I’ll eat my own words.”

“No,” Satoru shakes his head, lips curled into a serious, unsatisfied frown, “No that simply won’t do. I need better than that.”

“Okay,” you finally laugh. It’s radiant. It comes from your belly and vibrates through your chest. He’s somehow good at it—just one coffee grab during your lunch break, and he’s already managed to earn the sound of your joy so easily. Something about that tickles a weird, unfamiliar spot under your ribcage. “Lay out your terms.”

“You have to be my girlfriend if I manage to make your eyes turn into hearts over my handsomely unbeatable appeal.”

It’s cheeky, his grin. Wide, confident, and still boyishly hopeful. You start to wonder why you ever disliked such an easy to fall for smile.

“That’s pretty bold,” you note.

“I’m bold about the things I want.” You pretend that those words don’t make your heart do a helpless flutter.

“Okay,” you nod, agreeing as you take a final sip of your coffee and hand him the empty cup, “I’ll agree to these unlikely terms. You can start by bringing me another coffee.”

“You got it, boss,” he salutes before doing a giddy little jog to the counter and ordering you another coffee. It’s cute. It has your heart in a scarily fast chokehold.

Somewhere in the heat of the moment, as you watch him fumble over his wallet and almost drop his card while he goes to pay, you think he may have already won the terms to this ridiculous agreement.

But you won’t tell him that, you think. Just to drag out the eager, hopeful look in his eyes that dart over at you and shoot you a sly wink.

———————————

here is part two as promised for @enyathedrakaina bc they sent me cat pics

[potatoplace]

Can't Help Falling In Love

The Afterthought: Chapter 6 | series masterlist

ACOTAR x Archeron!Reader

chapter 5 | chapter 7 | ACOTAR x reader masterlist

Story Summary: Your gained independence has brought you more friendships, a companion, and, surprisingly, a new romance.

Warnings: shitty Feyre, very mild drinking, iiii honestly think that's it? I cannot think of anything else, let me know if I missed something pls

Words: ~11.8k

Author's Note: omg so I'm tired so there might be mistakes BUT everyone let me know what they think!!!!!!!!!! IM SO EXCITED TO HEAR WHAT YOU THINK CAUSE OMG IVE BEEN SO EXCITED FOR THIS MOMENT. Also. Peep the fun lil cameo I made (I am sure you all will guess it easily lol it's p obvious imo. Also. I will share pictures if people ask 🤭) I hope you all like this chapter!! ps the title is from an Elvis song but I know it from Fools Rush In but that's what they dance to at the end

18+ only pls

🤍🤍❣️🤍🤍

Mor returned just a few minutes after you finished getting dressed, in a soft, thick navy cotton nightgown, your feet clad in soft, fuzzy white slippers.

You had already set the table- another purchase from the secondhand furniture store that you had made yesterday, coming with four matching chairs. The scuffed walnut wood matched your bed frame, which had been a good enough reason for you to choose it.

And, that you'd been able to carry it home. Slowly, but you had, and you'd returned for the chairs promptly, each time apologizing to the seemingly annoyed shop owner who had said nothing each time, only stared at you over the top of his book.

You let Mor in after the first knock, giggling when you saw everything she was carrying. She had a small duffel bag, a bag filled with food, and another bag filled with... well, you weren't sure yet, but it was stuffed to the brim.

"Did you bring enough stuff, Mor?"

"Oh, hush you," Mor said, breezing past you to deposit the food on the stable, her other bags deposited next to your bed. "I brought pasta! There's a creamy one that has a seafood blend, and some good old spaghetti with meatballs. Plus-" Mor pulled another, smaller bag out. "Breadsticks!"

"Did you get anything healthy?" You asked, taking the breadstick that she handed to you and taking a bite.

"Nope," Mor said through her own bite. "I mean, unless you count tomatoes being a fruit. Which I totally do. So actually, yes."

You shook your head and laughed as you sat at the table, Mor following right after. "As long as there's tomatoes, then. What's all the other stuff?" You asked, pointing your breadstick at her other bags.

"Well, one is my clothes for tonight and in the morning, and the other is full of housewarming presents!"

You let out an exasperated sigh, but you couldn't help the smile that spread across your face. "More housewarming presents? I don't know how much of this I can take."

"Oh, you will take them happily," Mor said sternly. "They're just some small things that I thought you might need, nothing big. Though I would love to help you find a couch tomorrow, if you're up for it?"

You looked at the bag, and back to Mor. "That depends on how much you got me, Mor."

Mor smiled brightly. "Ahh, so you can be convinced. Do you want to know what they are now, or food first?" You glanced down at your breadstick, and quirked a brow at Mor. "I mean the pasta, silly. So?"

"Uhh... Presents first, I suppose, as long as the food won't get cold."

"That should be no problem, if we keep it in the bag. I'll go change into my pajamas really quick, and then you can see what I got you!"

A few minutes later you were sat on your bed, Mor beside you, pulling your first present out as you held your eyes shut.

"Go ahead and open!" Mor said after placing something that felt like a book in your outstretched hands.

It was a book- and upon opening, you saw that it was filled with handwriting exercises, and beginners words. Meant for a child, yes, but...

"Mor, thank you," you said tearily, pulling your friend into your arms. "This is- oh, this is so amazing. Thank you, thank you, thank you!"

Mor giggled beside you. "You're welcome, Y/N! I know that glass Nuala and Cerridwen gave you is helpful for understanding letters, but I also know you'd prefer to do it yourself. Now, close your eyes again!"

The two of you repeated the process over and over again, until you'd received every present Mor had picked out for you.

She had gifted you a beautiful quill set, with a selection of colored inks along with a larger inkwell filled with the standard black. A diary, in a delicate shade of pink, along with matching letter paper and envelopes, a small kit to do wax seals for when you decide to send letters. Mor had also picked out a few lovely bars of hand soap, along with two cute crystal dishes to hold them. And Mor had brought you two new blankets, one a dark blue, and the other in a dark purple.

"You can never have enough blankets, Y/N. Never," Mor said seriously as the two of you moved back to the dining table, each of you having a blanket wrapped around your shoulders.

"I agree with you completely, Mor. And really, thank you for everything," you said sincerely, squeezing her hand.

"It's my pleasure, Y/N. I'm always happy to go shopping! Now- do you want some of both dishes? Cause... I do," Mor admitted with a grin as she pulled the to-go boxes out of the bag.

"I'd be happy to have both," you giggled, grabbing another breadstick from the bag, this one slightly cooler than before. "So- tell me what's been going on with the Hewn City? Unless you want to avoid work completely."

Mor sighed as she dished out some of both pastas for both of you, onto the pretty clay plates you had bought two days ago, with painted flowers decorating its surface. "Well, Keir has been a pain in my ass, using every available connection he has to try and stop the upcoming election. He's been holding these stupid little rallies at the nightly revels, trying to convince the citizens to stage a coup. Though why he thinks that would work when Rhys or Feyre alone would be able to shut it down, I don't know. Just... He's being a pain in my ass!"

"I'm sorry, Mor. Isn't there anything that Feyre or Rhys would be able to do? Or maybe... Maybe remove him from power, imprison him for attempting to overthrow their rule?" You suggested, then took a bite of the seafood pasta- absolutely delicious, the creamy sauce complimenting the scallops, shrimp, and shellfish well, the pasta tender.

"I've tried telling them that it may be the only way forward, but they don't seem to understand how bad it's gotten as of late. Azriel's been busy in Autumn or Illyria for the past few months, and Cassian's been monitoring Windhaven specifically as of late. And Feyre is pregnant, meaning Rhys is unlikely to send her to the Hewn City without him, which would leave only Amren in Velaris. So..." Mor took a dejected bite of a breadstick.

"So you're stuck there?"

"Pretty much," she sighed. "Though I made Rhys promise to give me at least one day off every week, so I'll be able to come back home, and I'll be able to see you!"

You smiled. "Good, I'm glad. I missed you a lot over this last month, Mor."

Mor's expression matched your own. "I missed you too, sweets. Now... Tell me how everything's been going with you?"

It was your turn to sigh after you swallowed your bite of spaghetti- also delicious, with the slightly spicy sauce and meatballs.

"Things have been... They're looking up now. Now that I've moved out, at least. And working has been really nice. Things around the River House... Besides Azriel, they've been really tough for me. Nesta and Elain... They make me so uncomfortable, and they hate me for no reason. At least, that's what it feels like. And Feyre doesn't seem to care, either..." You shoved another bite of food into your mouth, letting the flavor soothe your pain.

"I'm sorry, Y/N. I really thought that Feyre would have tried to make them stop, especially after how rude they were dress shopping for Starfall," Mor said. "But I'm glad to here that things are looking up for you- And that Azriel has been sweet. And working at Sevenda's! You've done amazingly for yourself, love, all on your own. If..." Mor paused, considering her words. "If you decided to not have them in your life anymore, I wouldn't blame you. Feyre I would give another chance, but Nesta and Elain... They're taking their anger about their own situation out on you, I think. And that's unforgivable, seeing as they know how much it's hurt you."

Tears had welled in your eyes at her words, at how well she understood your feelings. "Thank you, Mor," you managed to choke out before the tears fell.

"Oh, sweets... Come here," Mor said, standing from her chair and pulling you up and into her arms, squeezing you tightly, a hand stroking your hair soothingly. "How about we do a face mask and eat chocolate? Does that sound good?" Mor asked after a while, pulling away from you a bit. You nodded your head, not trusting your voice quite yet.

"Let's do it, then."

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The next morning was lazy, with you and Mor sleeping in and laying in bed for an hour, talking about everything and nothing. You felt like you were sharing hushed secrets together, like you had so long ago with Feyre when the both of you laid awake at night, your other sisters sleeping the night away as the two of you dreamed of a life you wanted to live, not just an existence of scraping by.

Eventually, you were dragged from the cocoon of your bed by your bladder, and after you had washed your hands you jumped on the bed, right on Mor.

"It's time to get up," you sang as you laid on top of your friend, giggling when she half-heartedly tried to push you off of her. "You said you wanted to go couch shopping, right?"

"Yes, but not this early," Mor groaned beneath you.

"If you want any chance of paying for it, you've got to get up now!"

"Okay, okay! You've convinced me, you're impossible to give things to unless I've already bought them," Mor laughed, and this time you let her push you off of her- not that you doubted her ability to do it if she truly wanted to. The two of you made your way into the bathroom, going through the steps of washing and moisturizing your faces. "We're stopping for breakfast in a café, though, I'm dying to have a muffin and some coffee."

"That's fine by me Mor," you laughed. "You can change in here, I'll change in the main room."

"Okay, just let me know when you're dressed so I don't accidentally peek on you," Mor said after she had grabbed her bag and returned to the bathroom. That left you to quickly strip out of your nightgown, down to your underwear. You slipped on a simple peach brassiere and into a clean, black woolen dress, in a similarly modest fashion to the one you had worn yesterday.

"You can come out, Mor," you called out, and a moment later the bathroom door swung open.

"Let's get going, I'm starving," Mor complained as the two of you slipped on your boots and outerwear, you of course wearing all of the items Azriel had bought for you. "Oo, I like these," Mor said, stroking the cape with an ungloved hand. "Did you buy it recently?"

A blush spread over your cheeks against your will. "Oh, uhm. Azriel gave the set to me, for Solstice."

A smile spread across Mor's face. "Oh? Azriel bought it for you?" Mor asked.

Your cheeks heated further at her actual question. "It's not like that, he's just being nice..." You mumbled.

"And what if he wasn't?"

You blinked at Mor for a moment, dumbstruck by her suggestion before you laughed. "No, no. I don't... That's not a possibility, Mor."

Mor shook her head. "But you want it to be- and it is. Any male or female would be lucky to have you, Y/N," Mor said gently, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. "Now. Let's go get breakfast."

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Three hours later, you and Mor were carrying a couch through the snow covered streets of Velaris, the legs dragging through the white powder. Its pink velvet fabric was a near match to the chair you had already bought, and had a low enough back to allow winged individuals to sit comfortably.

Not that you'd taken that too much into account, it was just a nice benefit for when Azriel came to visit.

Which he would be, tonight. The two of you had agreed to have dinner tonight, as your way of repaying him for your bed. It was the one night he would be in town this week, and since you had the day off it had seemed to work perfectly.

Mor was going out with some friends tonight at Rita's, an activity that you were fine not being involved in, and she had to return to the Hewn City early in the morning.

The two of you said goodbye in the late afternoon, a long hug and promises to coordinate time together and write to each other- you would even attempt to tell her about your week, if you were able.

You spent the time before Azriel turned up cleaning your apartment some, washing the dishes that you and Mor had used last night and putting away the gifts she had given you.

Then? You collapsed on the couch, a blanket spread over you as you enjoyed how soft the cushions were.

A shadow tangled in your hair moments before a knock landed on your door, and you shook your head at the silly little thing.

"Hello, Azriel," you said as you opened the door, face to face with the Shadowsinger, a round, covered dish in his hands. His shadows seemed antsier than usual, a few of them breaking away to swirl around your feet, a tiny smile creeping onto your lips.

His eyes tracked them, tightening for a moment before they met yours, hazel softening as he looked at you. "Good evening, Y/N."

Your smile grew. "Come in, you need to choose a recipe so that we can go shopping," you said brightly as you opened the door further, letting him into your apartment. "You didn't need to bring anything, you know."

"Thank you. I just brought dessert, and it was my pleasure. And I'd be happy to have anything you make, Y/N," Azriel said as he followed you into the kitchen, where you had two of your cookbooks set out on the counter. The ones that Nesta and Feyre had gifted you. He set the dish to the left of them, and you were tempted to peel back the foil covering it.

"None of that, you're going to choose a recipe that you want," you demanded, fully aware that you are being more assertive than you'd been with him... Well, ever.

But he seemed similar to you, in the way that you never liked to accept much of anything from others.

Azriel stared you down for a moment before sighing, a small smile creeping onto his face. "Okay. But you have to let me know if it's a recipe you wouldn't like," Azriel said firmly, waiting to open a cookbook until you had nodded your agreement. "Good."

He flicked through the pages until he settled on a dish you both thought sounded good- chicken and dumplings. "It was my favorite when I was younger," Azriel confessed as the two of you walked to the Palace of Hoof and Leaf, his shadows clearing your path as they had taken to doing over the past month.

"I can't imagine you younger, somehow," you giggled as you looked up at him, trying to imagine him as a gangly teenager. But the image never came, leaving you staring at the very masculine male next to you.

Azriel let out an amused snort. "That's fine by me, I was... I was awkward, back then. But, so were my brothers."

"You? Awkward?" You shook your head. "I don't buy it. You're too calm, all the time."

"That's now. Back then I was a nervous wreck," Azriel admitted, rubbing the back of his head.

"Well, if you're ever nervous now, you do an amazing job of hiding it," you said as you picked out the vegetables you would need, handing over your bank card to the stall owner for a moment, thanking them as you left. The vegetables were placed into the cloth bag you had brought with you, which Azriel plucked from your arms despite your protest.

"If you're paying for everything and cooking, the least you can let me do is carry the ingredients," he insisted. "Now, what else do we need?"

You looked down at your list, squinting at the poorly printed ingredients that you had written down before leaving. "Uh... Chicken, obviously."

"Right. There's a butcher shop just a few stalls down," Azriel said, leading you gently with a hand on the small of your back.

The intimacy of his touch made your breath stutter for a moment, before you reminded yourself that Azriel is your friend, nothing more.

Shopping flew by, easy, light conversation flowing between the two of you while you were in the outdoors.

Azriel carried everything for you, prying every item out of your hands after you had paid for it. But you didn't feel patronized by it, rather... You felt touched, that he wanted to carry the groceries back to your apartment, that he wanted to help out in some way. It was nice.

His helping hands attempted to extended into the kitchen, at which point you fixed him with your toughest stare, demanding that he stayed still.

"Just sit there and let me cook! Enjoy your wine!" You said to him as you dropped the dumplings into the pot. "This is me repaying you for my bed in the one way you would let me- so let me!"

Azriel sighed, but you could almost hear the smile he was wearing. "I cannot believe my shadows are siding with you."

"What?" You asked, turning away from the pot to stare at him, laughing at the sight you were met with. "Oh my- that's hilarious!" You giggled at seeing Azriel, covered in his own shadows as they held him to the chair, even lifting his glass of wine up for him.

"So you say, I find mutiny much less amusing," Azriel said, shaking his head with a smile on his face. "It smells amazing, Y/N."

Your smile grew, nose scrunching at his words. "Thank you, it should only be a few more minutes."

"I'm fine right here, no matter how long it takes."

🤍💞💙💞🤍

Azriel had left your apartment near eight in the evening last night, after he had insisted upon doing the dishes, of course. Dinner had been such a pleasant affair, with Azriel telling you about his work in Autumn and Illyria, and you talking about the small dramas of your fellow kitchen staff.

You could confidently say that you were friends now. Even better, you had gotten Azriel to agree to have dinner with you when he had a rare evening in town that wasn't taken up by court matters or inner circle dinners, though it hadn't been tough to convince the male. The next time you would see him would likely be on Saturday, though he had promised to send a note with one of his shadows if something came up.

Currently though, you were at work, nestled between Josi and Torma.

You'd woken up with an ominous feeling pooling deep in your stomach, one that you still hadn't shaken. But, you'd gotten yourself out of bed and to work; for that, you were proud.

Josi and Torma were going back and forth about where they should go for drinks that night.

"I think we should go to Rita's. Then we can dance!" Josi said excitedly, even doing a little jig, bumping her hip lightly into yours which drew a giggle from you. "See! Y/N thinks it's fun!"

"Dancing would be fun, that's true Josi. But I'm feeling more like sitting and talking a bit tonight, which is why Blue Bar would be a much better choice," Torma explained, giving Josi her best puppy dog eyes as she looked over your head.

Josi sighed. "What if Y/N comes dancing with us? Would you go to Rita's then?"

Your eyes widened at the suggestion. "I don't think-"

"Oh, please Y/N?" Torma begged, setting down her knife and putting her palms together. "Please please please? You haven't gone out with us yet!"

You scrunched your face at the idea. Drinking, dancing, and being near so many people... Was not your idea of a relaxing evening. "I'm not sure... I don't really drink," you said quietly.

"But you don't have to drink! You can just watch us be silly and bad at dancing," Josi enthused, setting down her own knife. "Come ooon, you know you want to see us make fools of ourselves!"

The thought of them stumbling around together on a dance floor did bring a smile to your face. "As long as you guys don't abandon me," you decided, your words resulting in enthusiastic high fives from your coworkers, only making you smile wider.

"Yes! Okay, we can either pick you up from your apartment at seven, or you can meet us at Rita's at the same time," Josi said.

"Uhh... Pick me up from my apartment, I think. Otherwise I might just stay home," you admitted sheepishly.

"Then we'll pick you up at seven o'clock sharp," Torma declared.

The rest of your shift passed quickly, with you leaving around five. You bid goodbye to your coworkers, promising them that you would be ready and enthusiastically awaiting their arrival in two hours.

You walked home, enjoying the slightly warmer weather that Velaris was having today. The sun was shining brightly, even as it began its descent below the horizon.

Still, even the lovely weather couldn't shake the feeling in your bones that something unexpected would happen today, good or bad.

And you were proven right when you arrived to your building, Feyre standing outside of the locked door, looking...

Angry.

Furious.

Your heart picked up in your chest, beating rapidly as you tried to assess why she would be angry... The only reason you could come up with was, well... Why you were standing outside of an apartment building.

"Hello, Feyre," you said, as neutrally as you could with your heart hammering in your chest.

"Y/N," Feyre said coldly, her hands pointing to the doorknob. "Let me in?"

Your brows scrunched together, but you unlocked the door, letting Feyre pass through before you. You led her upstairs, pausing before your door. Should you let her in...? You sighed and unlocked the door, allowing Feyre to enter your apartment. Your safe space.

You only hoped it continue to feel that way, after this visit.

"So... You moved out without telling me? Do you have any idea how dangerous that is? How worried I've been?!" Feyre growled at you once the door was shut behind you.

"Worried?" You asked with a mirthless chuckle. "You've been worried? I was gone for a week, Feyre! A week, and you couldn't be bothered to notice until Mor did!" You yelled at her, your own anger at your situation bubbling up. "Besides, it's not like I could leave the fucking city without your approval anyways, so what do you have to be worried about?! That I'm making my own life, with people who actually care about me?!" Feyre opened her mouth to respond, but you didn't give her the chance. "I felt like nothing but a burden, an annoyance in that house," you hissed. "And if you had actually cared about me, you would've noticed I moved out last Wednesday. And you would've noticed when I got a job. And you would have remembered that I cannot. Read." Tears filled your eyes as you brought up that little tidbit, the sting of it fresh whenever you thought of it. Water had begun pooling in Feyre's eyes, and you knew that if she spoke you would forgive her, even if you didn't want to. "Now get out, Feyre, unless you've decided that my apartment is now your property as well. Come back when you actually realize why I moved out," you said coldly as you opened the door, staring expectantly at her.

She did as you asked, passing through the doorway mere minutes after she entered. Feyre turned to you, her eyes sparkling with unshed tears. "I do care for you, Y/N. But you've got to stop acting like living at the River House was torture."

You scoffed and rolled your eyes, slamming the door in her face and locking it tightly.

Not that it would stop her, if she really wanted in...

You spent the rest of your time before your coworkers showed up curled in your bed, pillows piled around you and blanket pulled over your head. It was only when you peeked at the clock and saw it was ten to seven that you pulled yourself from your cocoon.

Hair brushed out and a small amount of eyeliner and pale pink rouge and lipstick applied, you quickly changed into a different dress. Your cozy black cotton dress was changed to a flowing, sapphire blue silk gown. The sleeves were loose, wider once they met your forearms, and the modest cut and floor length skirts left you feeling secure and covered. You felt pretty in it, one of the few nicer gowns you had taken from your closet in the River House.

You had just pulled on your boots and cloak when a knock fell on your door, Josi and Torma waiting outside.

"How did you get in the building?" You asked with a laugh as you locked up.

"Well, one of the other tenants had just walked in when we arrived, so we slipped inside!" Josi explained, locking arms with you as the three of you left the building.

"Ahh, that explains it."

"Yes. Now, let's get to Rita's! It's cold as balls out here," Torma groaned, taking your other arm and dragging the two of you along faster.

The air in Rita's was hot, a welcome reprieve from the winter chill outside. Josi went to order drinks for the three of you, while Torma led you over to a booth in the back of the bar.

The two of you had just settled in when Josi came back, four drinks in her hands. She set two in front of you, one was water, the other was pink and sparkling, smelling of strawberries and a hint of alcohol.

"I know you said you don't drink, but I thought I would get you something just in case! I had the bartender make it less strong for you. And if you don't have it, I'll drink it anyways," Josi giggled as she slid into the booth next to you, already sipping her own drink.

Normally you wouldn't have dared to touch alcohol, but your conversation with Feyre earlier... You could use a distraction. And, you were with your trusted coworkers.

You took a small sip of the drink, delighted at the way the liquid was fizzing in your mouth. It tasted as it smelled, primarily of strawberries with the slightest hint of alcohol- champagne, you thought.

"Thank you, Josi, it's delicious."

"I'm glad you like it! Oh- Torma, we have to dance to this one!" Josi squealed, setting her drink down and sliding out of the booth, pulling Torma along with her.

You watched them dance, sillier with each song as Josi had said they would, sipping your drink. You started feeling light, tipsy like you had at the one party you'd drank at, when you still lived in the human lands.

Maybe that was why you hadn't noticed him, until he was standing directly in front of you, wings tucked in behind him.

"Oh- hi, Azriel," you said quietly, a flush on your cheeks as you smiled at him.

"Hello, Y/N. I didn't expect to see you here," Azriel replied, sliding into the booth across from you. "You look like you're having a nice time."

You bobbed your head to the beat of the music. "I am. Josi and Torma convinced me to come out tonight. And I am glad they did, otherwise Feyre would have ruined my day," you giggled, the sting from your interaction with her not present with the alcohol running through your veins.

"You spoke with Feyre?" Azriel asked, a curious look on his face.

You sighed heavily and took another small sip of your drink. "Yeah, she was at my place when I got off work, and was mad that I moved out without saying anything. But really, it took her a week to notice!" You vented. "Not to mention she didn't even remember that I couldn't read... Nesta and Elain I understand since they hate me but..." you trailed off, a frown on your face.

One of Azriel's hands slid over your own, grasping it gently. "I'm sorry that you've been let down so thoroughly by your sisters, Y/N. I am happy to know that you're still living how you want, and making friends too."

You smiled dreamily at him. How was he so nice to you? "Thank you, Azriel. I'm glad that you're my friend, you're really nice."

Azriel smiled softly at you, his hazel eyes crinkling at the edges.

One of his shadows tangled itself in your hair, rubbing against your neck and drawing your eyes away from Azriel's. "Your shadows are so silly," you giggled, tickling the shadow with a finger.

"They seem to like you a lot," Azriel remarked, watching as more of his shadows nuzzled themselves against you. "By the way, I wanted to ask you if you're up for a surprise on Saturday, before we have dinner."

You blinked at him for a moment, your thoughts coming more slowly with what you'd drank. "Uhm... Is it a fun surprise? Or like... dragging me to a family dinner surprise?"

Azriel's lips pressed together, the corners of his mouth still tilting upwards. "A fun surprise, I promise. And if you don't like it, we can leave right away."

"Mm... Sure, I don't see why not," you said, trying to come up with what kind of surprise he would plan.

"Good," Azriel smiled. Josi and Torma had wandered back over to the table, fresh drinks for themselves in hand. "I'll let you spend time with your friends," he said, sliding out of the booth.

"Thank you for saying hi, Az," you said sweetly, smiling happily at him. "I'll see you on Saturday!"

Azriel nodded, a slight flush on his cheeks as he turned away, going back to whichever table he had been at.

"Oooh," Josi said from beside you, elbowing you gently in the side. "Someone has a crush on the Shadowsinger!"

You scrunched your face at her, but couldn't get the smile to slide off of your face. "No I don't," you whined.

"Oh yes you do," Torma joined in, poking your leg with a foot. "And I dare say he has one on you as well."

You blushed further at that idea, shaking your head. "No, no, we're just friends!" You insisted, but both of them gave you a knowing look.

"Uh-huh," Josi giggled from beside you. "Just let us know when you start dating, hmm?"

"It's not like that!" You giggled, gently slapping her on the arm. "It's not!"

Torma rolled her eyes playfully at you from across the booth. "Sure, Y/N. Now, do you want to dance with us?"

You looked out at the dance floor. You'd never been one for dancing, since you'd missed out on the years of lessons that Nesta and Elain had gotten. But...

You drained the rest of you drink, about a third of it, and scooted into Josi. "Let's go dance!"

🤍🤍💙🤍🤍

The next morning, you'd woken up with a slight hangover, which had been easily cured with a large glass of water, some dry toast, and a long bath.

Josi and Torma had grinned at you the whole day, talking about how they needed to take you out more often now.

You wouldn't say yes every time but... It had been nice spending time with them, and dancing had been more fun than you'd thought, with a bit of bubbly running through you.

The five days before you would see Azriel again- when you would know what surprise he had planned- passed by quickly at work, but dreadfully slow while you were alone at home.

You had taken to filling out the handwriting book that Mor had given you, your letters improving with every time you wrote them. And you felt you were nearing the point that you could attempt to read children's books, perhaps the book of fables that Rhysand had given to you for your birthday.

Feyre had yet to visit again, something you were grateful for. If she couldn't understand that being trapped and kept here like a forgotten pet, or worse, a chew toy for your sisters, was your problem? Then you didn't want to see her.

You were lonely while you weren't at work, but you could handle that. After all, you had time with Azriel after work today, and you and Mor were having another sleepover tomorrow night.

You had just started washing up to leave work when a shadow snuck into your hair, alerting you to Azriel's presence, likely in the dining room. You giggled at it, gently poking it with a wet finger before you dried off your hands. Sure enough, Azriel was stood in the dining room, talking with Sevenda in a hushed tone, both of them quieting when you walked through the curtain separating the kitchen from the front of house.

"Ah, Y/N! Someone came to pick you up," Sevenda said with a smile, winking at you when Azriel had his head turned.

You rolled your eyes at her, turning your attention to Azriel. "Come to take me to the surprise?"

"I am, in fact," Azriel nodded, extending a hand to you.

You took it without thinking, letting him lead you out of Sevenda's restaurant and into the snowscape of Velaris. His hands were soft, even with the scars that you knew covered them, and the calluses that you knew he should have, being a warrior and all.

His shadows were buzzing around the two of you excitedly, mirroring that of their master. Something about where you were going had Azriel as close to giddy as you could ever see him getting, a slight smile stuck to his face, his wings twitching every now and then.

Soon enough you came to a stop in front of a large building, various magical creatures painted onto the sign above the door.

Velaris... Animal... Shelter?

You blinked at the sign, confused. Surely you hadn't read that right.

"Come inside, I think you'll like it," Azriel said, gently tugging you into the building. Once inside, your ears were met with so many different sounds: meows, barks, bird trills, growls, hisses. There were a few rooms, all separated with glass walls and doors, filled to the brim with animals.

You were instantly drawn to the room housing felines- there were so. Many. Kittens!

"Oh my gods, can we go in?!" You asked Azriel, your face flushed from excitement and the cold as you met his hazel gaze.

"Of course we can, we just need to keep all of them inside the room." Azriel opened the door for you, letting you pass through first.

"Oh, they're so cute!" You squealed, approaching a pile of kittens, all conked out. You sat on the floor next to them, petting all of their fuzzy little heads and milk filled tummies, delighting in the squeaks they let out.

"This is an amazing surprise, Azriel," you told him once he sat down next to you, his wings drawing the attention of some of the active kittens.

"Being here isn't the only surprise," Azriel said. "If you'd like, you can take one home. I've already picked out some possible furniture you might like for the little one, if you decide to have one."

You gaped at him, completely shocked. "I can... I can take one home?" You asked, looking back at the kittens with new eyes. You could have a companion... Someone just for you.

"You can," Azriel said warmly, a smile on his lips when you looked back at him.

A grin spread across your face and your launched yourself at him, wrapping your arms tightly around his neck. "Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you!"

His arms wrapped around you for a moment before you pulled away. "You're welcome, Y/N. I thought you might like to have a companion at home."

"Well you were right," you said giddily, turning back to the kittens. All of them were so adorable, so sweet while they were sleeping. But you would want one that was calmer while awake, matching your energy levels.

You and Azriel stayed in that room for two hours, playing with kittens and talking about what you'd both been up to over the past five days.

"The elections are heating up, and thankfully Rhys and Feyre sent me to the Hewn City to help protect the candidates going against the current leaders," Azriel told you as he let four kittens climb over him, even onto his shoulders and head. "Mor sends her love, by the way."

You smiled, both at the sight and the mention of your shared friend. "That's sweet of her, we get to have a night together tomorrow, which will be even more fun with my new little one," you said. "I still don't know which one I want, though."

"Take your time, you want to get one that you'll bond with well," Azriel suggested.

You looked around to room, trying to find any kittens that you hadn't interacted with yet. There, on one of the shelves... Mostly hidden behind a fluffy bed stuffed onto the shelf was a tiny kitten with glowing green eyes, her beautiful silvery coat shimmering even in the slight darkness of the shelf. You crawled over to her, extending a hand back to let her sniff. She hissed softly at you once, but let you run your fingers across her head, purring at the first touch.

Oh yes. This one.

She seemed slightly afraid of everything, hissing gently when you plucked her from her spot and cradled her in your arms. She was so tiny, and her fur was so soft and puffy, you wouldn't be surprised if she turned out to be a total fluff ball. Her tummy fur was the palest pink color, absolutely adorable. And her silvery fur had streaks of light tan running through it, along with slightly darker streaks of grey.

She was perfect. And the way her eyes closed as you pet her was so comforting to watch, you knew that you had found your fur child that you wanted to take home.

"I want her," you said to Azriel, tilting her in your arms so he could see her better. "She's so cute, and she seems nervous, like me."

Azriel laughed softly. "She's very cute, Y/N. Do you know what you'd want to name her?"

You looked down at her, trying to think of something that would suit her. At the same time, she let out the tiniest little squeak, that sounded like a soft 'eek.'

"M'aiq. Cause she's mine, and she made a little eek noise," you said, nodding your head at the name.

"M'aiq... That's a cute name for a cute little Starfall kitten."

"Starfall kitten?" You asked, wondering if that's why her eyes glowed green.

"Yes, every year, in the two months after Starfall, about one in every litter is born with a Starfall spirit inside of them. Or, at least, that's the explanation I've heard for why their eyes glow," Azriel explained, beginning to place the kittens that had climbed onto him back on the ground.

"Awe... You're even more special, my little M'aiq," you said cheerily, nuzzling your nose against hers.

Azriel led you out of the glass room and to the counter, where a fae took M'aiq and put her into a small carrier. He then led you into the shelter's store, where they had plenty of furniture, toys, and anything else you would need in stock.

You picked out a tall, carpeted structure that had a few platforms that M'aiq could rest on, as well as four different beds meant for small felines. A magically cleaning litter box and several food and water dishes also came home with you, as well as many, many toys.

His shadows sent everything to your apartment besides M'aiq in her little crate, which Azriel picked up for you. You tried to pry it out of his hands, but instead he slipped his free hand into yours and began leading you back to your apartment. Along the way you stopped in the Palace of Bone and Salt, picking up the things you would need for a simple pot roast dinner, seeing as you would be distracted for the rest of the evening.

Once you were inside the apartment, you immediately snagged M'aiq's crate from Azriel and pulled her out of it and into your arms.

"You're so cute," you cooed to her, petting her tiny head slowly.

You felt Azriel's eyes on you before you saw them, glancing up and smiling warmly at him. He looked away, the slightest blush on his face.

He is, too.

You placed M'aiq into one of the many cat beds now decorating your apartment, this one placed at the foot of your bed. "Stay there, sweetie, while I make dinner," you told her, her nervous green eyes on you. "I'll make you something, too, don't you worry."

Azriel was smiling softly at you when you turned to the kitchen, the expression making his face even more beautiful than normal.

You'd never understood how a male could be pretty, until now. But now you knew why Feyre called Rhysand the most beautiful male she had ever seen, because you thought that might be true of the winged male in currently in your kitchen.

"Did you need help with dinner?" He asked as you approached the bag of food he had placed on the counter.

"Hmm... I suppose since this isn't me paying you back for anything, you can help this time," you decided, setting out two cutting boards and handing him a knife. "Cut the potatoes into halves then quarter the halves, slice the carrots half an inch thick, and the onions into eighths please."

Azriel nodded and began rinsing the potatoes and carrots, while you grabbed some chicken from your cold box, dicing it after you started a flame under a pan with a bit of oil in it.

You balanced cooking the chicken for M'aiq and braising the roast while Azriel cut all of the vegetables, finishing at the perfect time, right when you needed them all to be added to the pot.

Azriel took over seasoning the roast while you fed M'aiq for the first time, grinning from ear to ear as you watched her devour half of the chicken that you had cooked for her. You'd get the portions down in no time.

With the roast in the oven, you and Azriel relaxed on the couch for a while, M'aiq in your lap.

After a little bit, Azriel had his shadows bring him a few reports after he made sure you would be okay with it, quietly filling them out with the scratch of his quill on the paper.

You decided, since you had tipsily told him that you were illiterate at Rita's anyways, that you would work on your handwriting in the book Mor had given you again, fighting the blush that had overtaken your cheeks.

But he said nothing about what you were doing, only giving you one curious glance before returning to his own work.

He was thoughtful like that. He thought about what would make you uncomfortable.

Your heart thumped in your chest at the feelings you were developing, ones that you had been fighting so hard to keep at bay.

But you were failing.

You were failing because this sweet, caring, thoughtful male did nothing but make your life brighter, Shadowsinger or not.

Doing your best to keep your attention on your workbook, you passed the rest of the time until the roast was done in a comfortable silence, the scratching of quills, crackling of logs, and M'aiq's soft purrs the only sounds in your ears.

Azriel checked the roast for you, after you had complained about having to move M'aiq when she was so comfortable and sleeping... And then he brought a bowl over to you along with a napkin, eating his own on the couch as well.

You felt so comfortable near him, even sitting so close, unaccompanied by anyone else. Two and half years ago you would have balked at the idea, the impropriety of it. But Azriel had been nothing but gentlemanly toward you, even when he had flown you up to the House of Wind.

And really... You would never be the whore that Nesta claimed you to be, after all you had never even been kissed in your twenty years of life, let alone had relations with someone. Just the thought of that sent anxiety through you. No, you would not have sex with someone until you were married, as you had been raised to do. You even... You even found it romantic, to save yourself for your future spouse.

So, being alone in your apartment with Azriel? That was an impropriety you were willing to overlook.

Azriel left your apartment near eleven at night, having spent extra time with you while you helped M'aiq settle in to her new home.

When you shut the door behind him, your heart fluttering from his presence, and now absence.

You turned your attention down to the fluffy ball in your arms. "What do you say, M'aiq? Are you ready for bed?"

Her soft squeak was enough of an answer for you. You settled her on the bed, next to your pillow while you washed your face and dressed for bed.

You laid down next to her, covers pulled up to your shoulders, with a hand poking out so you could pet her as you went to bed.

You didn't feel quite so lonely, laying in the dark now.

🤍🤍❣️🤍🤍

As soon as you exited work, you were assaulted by way of an aggressive hug from a bouncy blonde. Mor swung you around, giggling.

"I'm so excited to see you!" Mor yelled, squeezing you tightly.

"I'm excited to see you too, Mor!" You giggled after she set you on your feet again. "So, what's the schedule like for tomorrow?"

"Well," Mor started as the two of you began walking to your apartment. "I have to be back in the Hewn City by noon, and... I have a family dinner to go to tonight," Mor said with a sigh. "So I won't be with you for dinner, but I'm planning to book it out of there and have dessert with you!"

You nodded in understanding. "That's fine, Mor, but you should come to my apartment first! I have something to show you."

"Oh?" Mor asked, quirking a brow at you. "What is it?"

"If I told you now, it wouldn't have the same effect!" You insisted as you let her into your building, following her up the stairs. Your door swung open, and you heard the skitter of claws on wood. "Oops, I think the door spooked her."

"Her?" Mor asked, looking around before her eyes locked the far wall. "She's under the bed."

"Oh, M'aiq!" You called as you pulled off your boots before crawling next to the bed. "Come on out, sweetie, Mor is your friend," you said softly, rubbing your fingers together to draw her out. No luck, though, especially when Mor kneeled down to peer under the bed. M'aiq actually hissed at her, spitting and everything. You hated that she was distressed but... She was so cute.

"Awe, she's adorable!" Mor whispered. "And she's a Starfall kitten, oh that's so sweet. You know, they tend to bond strongly to their owners, some are even able to communicate with them. Not talking," Mor giggled when you gave her a wide eyed look. "More like... Their emotions can be shared with you, similar to daemati, but it's just a connection between them and their person. Maybe your little M'aiq will do the same."

You looked back to her, where she was now sitting, pressed tightly against the wall but no longer hissing. "That would be so cool," you whispered.

Four hours later and Mor was back in your apartment, lounging on your bed with you, M'aiq laying inbetween.

"So, besides the kitten, what else is new?" Mor asked you, popping a chocolate into her mouth a moment later.

"Well..." You blushed. "I... I like Azriel..."

Mor grinned at you. "I knew you would! And honestly, I don't see why he wouldn't like you. The two of you are so well suited for each other."

You shook your head. "I don't think so Mor, I'm... I'm human," you whispered, your eyes stinging.

"And what does that have to do with anything?" Mor asked seriously, tilting your chin back up so you would look at her. "So, you're human. Why does that matter?"

"Well, because... Because I won't be around for long, and it's cruel to shackle someone to me when I'll be old and grey in such a short time," you admitted, finally giving voice to your doubts.

"Who says you'll get old and grey?" Mor asked. "Maybe there's a way for you to not age, we just haven't found it yet. And besides, it's Azriel's choice if he decides to pursue you, he would know the possible outcomes. You deserve to be happy, Y/N," Mor said softly, her own eyes shining with tears. "I know that you're stuck here, and you would prefer to be in the human lands, but you still deserve to have happiness here, and if that means having a partner? Then that's what you should do, sweets."

You sniffled at her words, willing your tears to not fall as you stroked M'aiq. "Maybe... Maybe you're right... But I still don't think he likes me in that way," you said quietly.

"Well, I think what you think is wrong. I've never seen Azriel smile as much as he does when he's with you," Mor giggled, causing you to do the same. "And the two of you look so cute together!"

"Mor, stop," you laughed. "I don't want to get my hopes up..."

"Okay, okay. I'm just saying..."

You scrunched your nose at her. "Different topic. Tell me how things have been going with the election?"

"Well..."

🤍💙💘💙🤍

Friday night you and Azriel had planned to spend the evening together, but you were surprised to see him on Wednesday evening, after knocking on your apartment door.

"Hello, Azriel," you greeted. "What are you doing here?" Your eyes darted down, seeing his shadows swirling around his legs, a few darting out to brush against your legs. But more interesting was the box in his hand, pink with a matching ribbon tied in a cute little bow wrapped around it.

"I, uhm-" Azriel stammered for a moment before taking a breath. "I came here today because I want to ask you on a date, Y/N."

Your breath caught in your throat, your heart stopping. "I- what?"

Azriel's mouth tilted up in the corners. "I want to take you out on a date. I want to spend time with you, have a chance to court you. I like you, Y/N. And I was thinking we could go out for dinner on Friday night, if you decide to say yes."

Your brain short circuited. He- he likes you?

"I- Is this a joke?" You asked in a small voice, your heart bracing for the answer you were dreading.

Azriel's eyes saddened for a moment, his hands twitching where they were holding the box. "No, Y/N, I would never joke about this. I like you, very, very much. And I would very much like it if you joined me for dinner Friday night at seven," Azriel said softly, his eyes locked on yours. They shone with nothing but the truth, soothing your worries and sending heat to your cheeks.

A small smile slid onto your lips. "I... I'd like that very much, as well."

Azriel's smile at your words set your heart ablaze, the fire of your feelings stoked by the knowledge that he shared them as well. "Good, good. This is for you," Azriel said, placing the box into your hands once you held them out, his fingers brushing against yours. Just that little touch sent flutters through you, your blush deepening. "It's Elain's recipe, the white chocolate raspberry cake that you love," he explained. "I thought, even if you did not share my feelings, that you might like something sweet anyways," Azriel admitted, rubbing a hand against the back of his head.

"Thank you, Azriel," you said softly, touched that he would still care for you, even if you'd rejected him. "I'll... I'll see you at seven on Friday?" You asked shyly, still in disbelief.

"I'll see you then, Y/N," Azriel said, raising one of your hands and pressing his lips to the back of it. "Sleep well, dear."

Your heart thumped in your chest, hard enough you thought it might beat out of your chest. "You too," you said quietly, watching as he smiled once more at you, before disappearing down the stairs.

You shut the door, leaning against it after you locked it.

Had that really just happened?

Your eyes drifted down to the box in your hands, proof that Azriel had visited, had brought you it, had... Had...

Oh gods, you had no idea of what to do for a first date!

You set the box on a kitchen counter, opening it to see an adorable, heart shaped cake, decorated with pretty pink swirls of icing. It made you giddy, knowing that the cake was a present from a suitor. From Azriel. You cut a slice for yourself and grabbed a fork, taking the plate over to the table.

The cake was as delicious as you remembered, and M'aiq jumped onto the chair next to you, watching as you ate.

"If only you could give dating advice, little cutie," you mused, having another bite. No, you'd have to go see Mor for help.

🤍🤍❣️🤍🤍

The next morning, you knew that Mor was in town, visiting the River House to give a report on the upcoming elections to Rhys and Feyre- early, too, before you started your work day.

You bundled up early, your nerves getting the better of you. You needed her advice, and you needed it before Friday. Which meant this morning was your only option, even if it meant going to the River House...

You entered your former home, filled with anxiety. There was no way to tell how this would go, given your last encounter with Feyre, but you were determined to get what you needed, and that was a conversation with Mor.

Luckily for you, she, Feyre and Rhys were sat at the dining table, having breakfast. Mor was chugging coffee until she saw you, setting her cup down and rushing out of her chair.

"Oh, Y/N! I'm so happy to see you!"

"I am too, Mor, I was-" You looked at Rhys and Feyre. "I was hoping I could talk to you, if that's alright?" You asked nervously.

Mor glanced back at the two of them before nodding. "That's fine, sweets, what did you need?"

"Uhh... Can we go outside, to talk?" Mor nodded and followed you to the front door, slipping on her coat before leaving the warmth of the River House. You walked a little bit away before talking, you didn't want anyone besides Mor to know. "Okay, so... Remember how you said that Azriel might like me...?"

"Oh mother!" Mor exclaimed. "He asked you out, didn't he?!"

You blushed and nodded your head. "Yes, last night, and for tomorrow night. But I- I've never been on a date before," you confessed, wringing your mittened hands together. "I don't know what to do, I don't know what's expected. I've never- I've never even been kissed!"

Mor placed a comforting hand on your shoulder. "Oh, hon! Nothing will be expected except for you to give it an honest try, and to be yourself! And as for never being kissed, I could change that," Mor offered, wiggling her eyebrows at you.

You swatted her arm, shaking your head at her. "You're very pretty, Mor, but I don't like you that way," you giggled. "But... But what if he... What if he doesn't understand that I'm... saving myself," you whispered, "For marriage?"

"Y/N, if Azriel is in any way demanding sex from you, then he doesn't deserve you. I also don't think Azriel is that kind of male, he seems like a true gentlemale, in my opinion."

Her words soothed the anxieties in your chest, calming you down. "I don't think he would either," you said shyly. "But I... I also don't know what to wear."

Mor's eyes lit up even more, and she clapped her hands together. "Oh, oh! We can go shopping when you get off work today! I'll make sure I can stay in town until eight tonight, okay? And I'll see if I can come over tomorrow evening before you leave and help you get ready, if you'd like?" Mor asked.

"Really, Mor? That would be lovely," you said, hugging your friend. She squeezed you back. "Thank you, I'll see you at five, yes?"

"Yes you will, sweets. Now, you get to work, and I'll get back to that meeting. See you later!" Mor said with a wave, turning around the way you came.

Your shift passed incredibly slowly, your mind drifting to every way that the date could go right- and also wrong. You had nearly driven yourself crazy by the time you had washed up and left the building, Mor waiting by the door with two steaming cups of tea in each hand.

"Let's get shopping, sweets!" Mor said brightly, handing a tea to you and leading you to a dress store in the Palace of Thread and Jewels. It was a different one than you had gone to for your Starfall dress, for which you were thankful.

Mor lead you through the store, showing you dress after dress in styles and colors that you loved. All the while, she gave you little tips of advice, most of them along the lines of "be yourself and know that he is just as if not more nervous than you are."

After trying on ten different dresses, you settled on a rose pink silk dress with a modest neckline and floor length skirts. The sleeves billowed out before coming in at your wrists, the silk laying across your body in a flattering fashion. You could safely say that your body had filled out over the past month, what with you eating a small lunch at work and having dinner most nights. Your curves were more pronounced, a bit closer to how you had been before being taken to Velaris.

Mor had also insisted on buying you heeled boots in a matching shade of pink, a gold heart buckle keeping the strap in place. They were cute enough that you didn't fight her on accepting them.

She walked you home, parting with a strong hug and a promise to come by a bit after you got off work tomorrow.

But for tonight? You had another slice of cake, then snuggled up with M'aiq under the covers, using her purrs to chase away your racing thoughts.

🤍💙🤍💙🤍

"You look gorgeous, Y/N!" Mor squealed as she stood back, having put the finishing touches on your makeup. "What do you think?"

You looked in the mirror, taking in the very light blush on your cheeks, the softly glittering pale pink eyeshadow on your lids, brown eyeliner complimenting your eyes, making them look even softer than normal.

"I agree! You do an amazing job every time, Mor," you praised, standing to hug your friend tightly. "Thank you so much for helping me get ready, today and yesterday."

"Oh, sweets, it's no trouble at all! In fact, it's been so long since my own first date that it's bringing back this memories, how fluttery your stomach gets when you see them..." Mor sighed happily. "Well, I should get going, otherwise Keir will riot."

"When are the elections over, again?" You asked as you walked her to the door.

"In two weeks, thank the mother," Mor groaned. "Then I get a nice, long vacation for three weeks."

"Just two more weeks, you can do it!" You encouraged, wishing there was something you could do to make it shorter.

"Yes, I know... And you had better tell me everything that happens tonight!"

You giggled at her words. "I will, Mor!"

"Everything!" Mor yelled as she went down the stairs.

You shut the door looking at the clock. Half past six. That was plenty of time for you to feed M'aiq her dinner and get dressed. And luckily for you, cooking something would keep your mind occupied enough to not panic about Azriel's impending arrival.

Your little child was fed and your dress pulled onto your body, pink boots slid onto your feet. All you had left to put on was your cloak, mittens and scarf, but that could wait until right before you left. Five minutes passed dreadfully slowly, and at 6:57 you pulled on your winter gear and descended the stairs after saying goodbye to M'aiq.

Waiting for you just outside the building door was Azriel, a bouquet of roses- red, lavender and white- in his hands.

"Hi, Azriel," you said, a blush instantly coming to your cheeks at the sight of him in a fine black shirt and pants, a change from his normal Illyrian leathers. The shirt clearly showcased his physique, something that you could appreciate. He had no knife belt on him tonight, his waist looked a bit barren without it.

"Good evening, Y/N." He pressed a kiss to the back of your mittened hand before pressing the bouquet into your hands. "I thought you might like some flowers," he said with a small smile, one that you easily returned.

"I love flowers, and these are absolutely beautiful," you said, raising them to your face to smell them. "And they smell lovely as well."

"I'm glad to hear it. Would you like to take them upstairs, or my shadows can, if you'd like?"

You bit your lip. If you went back upstairs... You might chicken out. "If your shadows could take them, that would be nice." In the next moment, the bouquet was out of your hands, whisked away by his shadows to the vase in your apartment. "So, where are we going for dinner?" You asked, locking your arm with his after he held it out, your hand holding onto his muscled forearm.

"It's an Illyrian restaurant, I helped the owner and his cousin leave the camps sixty or so years ago, and I've found that, except for your cooking, it's my favorite restaurant in all Velaris," Azriel explained as you strolled towards the Palace of Thread and Jewels.

"Really? That's so amazing, that you're part of the reason their dreams came true," you said, even more enamored with the male beside you. "You're going to have to recommend things to me, I wouldn't know where to start," you giggled.

Azriel smiled down at you. "How about we share a couple of dishes? That way you can try whichever ones catch your eye."

You met his eyes, a smile on your own lips. "That sounds perfect, Azriel."

His eyes sparkled as he opened a door for you, a hand on your lower back guiding you through, sending a renewed flush to your face.

You were seated a moment later, in a cozy booth near the back of the restaurant, two menus placed on the table. Azriel ordered a pot of tea for the two of you to share, which warmed your heart.

He already knew you so well.

"Now, what sounds good to you, dear?" Azriel asked, the pet name sending your heart into overdrive.

You looked down at the menu, but with your excitement and still somewhat illiterate eyes, you were lost. You bit your lip for a moment before deciding what to do. "What if you order your favorites, because I am overwhelmed by choice?" You asked, relieved when Azriel nodded his head.

"That would be their beef stew, made with Illyria native vegetables and their roasted Illyrian trout with roasted vegetables. Do those sound good?" Azriel asked. You nodded your head- both of those sounded fantastic, and you were excited to see what he enjoyed most.

When the server returned with your tea, Azriel ordered the food before returning his attention to you, the weight of it making your breath catch in your throat.

"So..." You started, entirely unsure of what to say.

"I'm glad you decided to come out with me," Azriel said, his eyes soft as they met yours.

"I am too," you said shyly. "I'm still... Shocked that you asked me to come out, though."

A soft frown slipped onto Azriel's face, and you wanted nothing more than to wipe it away. "Really? I'd thought..." Azriel's own face heated a bit. "I thought that I was rather obvious with my affections. I might be the spymaster of this court, but I'm woefully inept at hiding my own feelings, at least... When it comes to you," He admitted, voice low and gentle.

"So... We both like each other... And thought we were bad at hiding it?" You giggled.

"I suppose so," Azriel chuckled. "But truly, I am very happy that you're here tonight, with me. Now, tell me- How is M'aiq settling in?"

Now that was a subject that you could go on and on about, with only having her for a week now.

You had covered how she was doing wonderfully at your place by the time your food arrived, with Azriel dishing your plate for you. The gesture made you smile, all the little ways he took care of you already.

The food was absolutely fantastic, flavor bursting along your tongue. Both of the dishes were spicy, but not so much that you couldn't handle it.

Conversation flowed between the two of you as you ate, just as it always did. You talked about your dreams for the future, the few that you did have at this point, your brain already working Azriel into them- not that you admitted that to Azriel, it was a bit early for those sentiments. Azriel told you a bit more about his upbringing, glossing over the parts of his life before he had befriended Rhysand and been taken in by his mother. You didn't pry, but you were a little curious to know every part of his story, everything that had shaped him into the male you cared for.

Soon enough you were stuffed full of warm, delicious food, the plates in front of you empty. More than that, you were filled with joy from Azriel's company, from how he clung to your every word.

He led you from the restaurant, his hand placed on your lower back once more, the warmth of it radiating through the fabric of your dress. You walked along the Sidra slowly, leaning your head against Azriel's arm, trusting him to keep you from falling.

You were almost halfway home when you heard the most beautiful music, coming from two musicians playing next to a bar, one with a violin and the other with a cello. You slowed your pace, Azriel's arm tightening around you as you did so. Listening for a moment, and gazing up at the brilliantly shining stars above you, you had an idea.

"Azriel, would you dance with me?" You asked him quietly, tilting your head to look at him.

His eyes met yours, a smile glowing within them as well as covering his lips. "I'd be honored, Y/N. So long as you call me Az."

You smiled brightly at him. "It's a deal, Az." You let him turn you in his arms, clasping your right hands together and placing a light hand on your waist. Your other hand came to rest on his shoulder, grasping it lightly.

The two of you swayed together in a small circle to the lovely music, the light of the stars shining down on you.

It was the date of your dreams, if you were being honest. Lovely conversation and food, and such a romantic partner, willing to dance in the snow with you because you asked.

So when you finally arrived at your apartment, you were a bit sad the date was ending. But more than anything, you were excited for everything that lay in the future for the two of you.

Azriel smiled down at you softly, his eyes warm despite the cold temperatures. His wings twitched behind him, just before he leaned in a bit.

"Can I kiss you?" He asked as one of his hands came to cup your cheek gently, so, incredibly gently.

You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak. He leaned in further, allowing you to close the last, tiny gap between your lips.

And when you did, you knew that you would never be the same. His lips were so soft against yours, so gentle and sweet that it stole your breath away.

Your mouth followed for a moment when he pulled away, your eyes fluttering open- you hadn't even realized you'd closed them.

"If it's fine by you, I'd like to see you when you get off work tomorrow," Azriel suggested softly, gaze flicking between your lips and eyes.

"I'd like that," you whispered into the space between you, the tilt of his lips more than worth having to speak so soon after such a life changing kiss.

"It's a date," Azriel said with a smile. "Goodnight, Y/N."

"Goodnight, Az," you breathed, unlocking the door of your building. He waited to leave until you were safely inside, the door locked behind you.

You just managed to get into your apartment before you collapsed against the door, overwhelmed by just how perfect the night had been. How perfect Az had been.

🤍💙💝💙🤍

General Taglist: @daughterofthemoons-stuff @lilah-asteria @meritxellao @twismare

The Afterthought Taglist: @darkbloodsly @angelbunny222 @uniquedreamsblog @romantasyreader28 @that-one-bibliophole @idkmyoldonewasembarassing @deathtopistachios @saltedcoffeescotch @sleepylunarwolf @babypeapoddd @kingshitonly @bravo-delta-eccho @bluebries81 @liahaslosthermind @deepestmentalitypersona @historygeekqueen @hermajestysworld @marina468 @esposamultifandom @astrokitty18 @larissa01-blog2 @acourtofbatboydreams @angel-graces-world-of-chaos @thelov3lybookworm @weekendlusting @dxjaaaa @thejediprincess56 @casiiopea2 @butterfix @sirenpearldust @marrass @satiresunflower @mae-foster @boo-shalala @optimisticbabydreamer @sttvrdustt @bunnybella186 @demon-master-zero @jaybbygrl @goodvibesonlyxd

[erwinsvow]

𝐬𝐮𝐢𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐥

summary: you were a pogue, and now you're a kook. just like how once you were no one's, and now you're rafe cameron's.

author's note: here it is!!! imagine like s1 rafe with the s2 hair, and basically just having a former-pogue girlfriend through out the whole season. i just think rafe would actually be such a good boyf, he just needs someone to settle him down when he gets a lil crazy. follows the sequence of s1 until about 3/4ths down, where i just started making stuff up. you might read this & think no one would act like this.. and that's fine, i know they wouldn't, but this is a self indulgent story for rafe <3 part 2 of the other seasons maybe? enjoy!!

now spinning: black beauty by lana del rey (soooooo rafe coded! he just needs a hug and some pussy!)

word count: 13.5k

warnings/tags: wheeze is a toddler for no reason. reader isn't the biggest fan of the pogues at this point in time. smut: oral (f receiving), fingering, degregation, use of daddy, rafe calls reader kid because <3, lemme know if i forgot something!

“So that’s it? Really? Your mom is marrying a Kook and you’re moving across the island… just like that?” John B speaks to you as if you had any choice in the matter. You look at him sadly, but you’ve cried so much the last few days, it’s hard to find any more tears.  

You want to tell him, want to explain everything. The way your mom has been so lonely for years, ever since your dad passed away. The way she would pull double-shifts every week just to make sure you had the nice, trendy shoes and hot dinner every night. The way you grew up in the cut but it never felt any different than growing up in figure eight, because she took care of you.

And now it was your turn, to take care of her. Blake Richards was rich, and he wanted to take care of your mom, which meant for the first time in a long time, she would be the one being taken care of. And you owed that to her, you owed that much.

“I-I don’t really have a choice, John B. I mean, this is my mom. And she’s getting her chance to be happy. I can’t ruin it for her.”

“Yeah, I get all that but, like, does this mean you’re gonna go full-Kook on us? Because I think that would just be disturbing,” JJ says, and you crack a smile, even as you feel a tear spill down your cheek. 

“I don’t think I could ever go full-Kook.” It comes out quietly, a notch above a whisper.

“Hey, hey,” you hear John’s voice again, as he stands up to get closer to you. You feel embarrassed, the way your cheeks flush and heat up when he’s only a few inches away from you. He wipes the tear away with his thumb. “No crying, okay? Nothing has to change.”

The way he says it, you almost believe him.

“Right,” you say, still quiet. There’s a sob stuck behind your throat, and you don’t want the boys to know how upset you really are. You’ve stitched up these boys more times than you can count, set shoulders and bones and nursed bruises for them. “Nothing has to change,” you repeat, trying to convince yourself. Everything was about to change, starting with your relationship with them.

And that’s the one thing you wish could stay the same. Deep down, no matter how many times you were teased and laughed with, there was a part of you, buried away, that thought you would end up with one of these boys one day. Sweet John, funny JJ, smart Pope. Well, maybe not Pope. You’ve seen the way he stares at Kie, even when no one else notices.

But John and JJ, the possibility of being with one of them always lingered in the air. Even when they’re flirting with tourists or cracking so-called boy jokes that you just wouldn’t understand, you always thought they were your endgame.

If only you knew. 

Pope and Kiara drive up, just as you’re wiping away another tear. You’re dreading repeating everything to them, shedding more tears. 

౨ৎ

“Who is that?” Topper asks, eyeing some girl entering the club. Rafe was getting sick of Topper crying over every pretty girl he saw on the street when he was supposedly dating his sister. He hardly cared about Sarah, daddy’s favorite, but that was his family, and he wouldn’t tolerate disrespect to his family. 

“She must be fresh meat,” Kelce says, “I’ve never seen her before.”

“Tourist?” Topper questions. Rafe downs the rest of his drink. 

“Nah, man, see that guy ahead of her? That’s Blake Richards. My dad works with him, he’s a big finance guy. He’s a widower, but I guess not anymore.” 

“Step-daughter? Jesus,” Topper says. “It’s like a cheesy porno. But I wouldn’t be surprised if he married her mom to tap that, I mean-”

“Enough,” Rafe snaps. “Shouldn’t you be in a fight with my sister?” Topper blanches. 

“I mean, look at her Rafe. That is something special,” Kelce says, and then finally, Rafe lifts his head to look at you.

You look… confused. Your head is turning, taking in everything about the club, like you’d never been there before. A waiter comes up to your family with tall glasses of water, little pieces of cucumber and lemon floating around in them with ice cubes. Richards—your step-father—takes a glass and hands it to a woman who can only be your mother, with the same hair and complexion. Before he can take a glass to hand to you, you take it from the tray yourself, smiling and saying thank you. The waiter, some teenage Pogue, blushes at your affection.

When you start walking, continuing the tour, the waiter turns to look at you walk away, gawking like men do when they see something pretty. Rafe feels an overwhelming urge to punch the kid, and cover you up with his jacket. 

You’re not in anything too immodest, compared to what he’s seeing girls at the club walking around in, but it feels like it’s too much for the leering eyes that follow you. Your jean skirt comes down a little less than half-way to your thighs. Your shirt is white, with puffy sleeves and little buttons that tighten around the chest.

He sees a glimpse of cleavage, which makes his chest tighten uncomfortably, not in the way he’s used to when he sees a pretty girl. He wants to take his shirt off his back and slide it onto you, buttoning it up all the way and making sure no one else looks at you the way he’s looking at you right now.

“Rafe?” his friend calls, and he’s not sure which one. In your glancing, you turn towards Rafe and you lock eyes for a second. You must have noticed him staring. You probably think he’s crazy, but he doesn’t seem to care much at the moment. Your mother must have beckoned you, because you turn away in a second, walking towards the older couple, trailing behind them again.

“Be right back,” he says, leaving a confused Topper and Kelce behind him at the table. He cuts through the tables near the bar, entering the walkway where your family is already, but coming out of the other end. He gets there just in time to run into Richards, who’s leading the little group.

“Hi, Mr. Richards, right?” he says, holding his hand out. “Rafe Cameron.”

“Oh, Rafe, hi,” the older man replies, shaking his hand. Rafe grips hard, making sure Richards doesn’t think he has a wimpy handshake. Otherwise he’s never gonna agree to what Rafe has in mind. “I haven’t seen you in years, I mean you were half your height last time I was over at Tannyhill.”

“Crazy, right? Well I just wanted to say hi since I ran into you. How’s, uh Benny and Brax?” 

“I can’t believe you remember them, they haven’t been to Kildare in years. They’re good, yeah, Benny’s in California now, and Brax is out at law school, at Oxford.”

“Oh yeah, international law, right?”

“Yeah,” Richards says, smiling wide. “You’ve got quite a memory, son, I’ll have to tell Rafe when I see him.”

“Oh yeah, he’s around here somewhere.” Then, he makes his move. He turns his gaze to your mom first. He thinks about it briefly, but if he addresses you before her, your mom will be on guard. He knows how their minds work. “I don’t believe we’ve met before, I’m Rafe,” and he shakes your mom’s hand, but turns back to Richards for the introduction—something else in his little cheat-sheet of rules. Let dad do the talking, so he feels like he’s in control. 

“Rafe, this is my wife, Anna-”

“Nice to meet you, Rafe,” your mom smiles at him sweetly, and he smiles back. 

“-and my step-daughter.” You smile, and hold your hand out. He shakes your hand, gently, and looks at your face, because he can tell the smile is forced. He wonders why. 

“Nice to meet you.” he says, and you smile that forced way again.

“You too, Rafe.” You let go of his hand, and it’s good, because if he held on any longer, the adults would get suspicious.

“First time here?” he questions, still looking at you.

“Yes,” your mother answers, laughing, if not a little uncomfortably. “Is it that obvious?”

“Nah, it’s a lot to take in, I remember that much.” Richards smiles at him, almost beaming. He knows Rafe has been coming here since he could walk. That means the old man appreciates him trying to comfort his new family. Another step closer.

“It is,” Anna says, looking at her daughter. She has those worried eyes, the one Ward’s new wife won’t stop looking at him with. 

“Well, it’s the perfect place to be all summer. I mean, pretty much everyone our age is at the pool or the courts.” At his mention of the both of you, you look up from staring at your shoes quickly to looking right at him. He smiles. You don’t smile back. 

“Really?” Richards asks, still openly friendly.

“I mean yeah, Mister R, I remember Benny on the golf course, like, everyday. And Brax, I mean he practically taught half of us how to swim.” Richards nods and laughs, continuing small talk about his sons. Rafe sneaks another glance at you, and you look back knowingly, like you can smell his intentions from a mile away. 

“Honey?” your mom asks quietly. “Do you wanna go with Rafe?”

“What?” you reply quickly, surprised. You weren’t listening, and he tries hard not to laugh.

“Well, I can take you ‘round, introduce you to everyone. I’ll finish the tour if you and Mrs. Richards are heading up to the course?” He nods at the golf clothes your parents have on, that you are lacking. 

“I think that sounds great, right, honey?” Anna presses, and after you lock eyes with her, you nod in agreement.

“Yeah, sure,” you say quietly. Rafe smiles again.

“Great, great, yeah. Well, it was great to see you Mister R. Missus R.”

“Thank you, Rafe. Kiddo, you can ask for the car to go home when you’re ready, okay? Your mother and I are going to get dinner here.” Anna looks up confused, probably wondering how they’ll get back.

“I’ll call someone to bring the car back, honey,” he explains, and your mom smiles.

“I can also take her back,” Rafe interjects. “Tannyhill is the same direction, and I’m headed back anyways. If you wanna leave the car here.”

“Really, Rafe, that would be great, thank you.” You look even angrier than before, but the plastic smile spread over your face doesn’t faze them.

“Right, thanks, Blake. Bye mom,” you say, and then lean over to kiss her on the cheek.

You watch them walk away, chewing your cheek and turning back to Rafe with anger splashed all over your pretty features. 

“I can’t believe that worked on them,” you tell him quietly, smiling when your mom turns back to look at you before they turn the corner. Your parents were too gullible sometimes.

“Yeah, me either, kid.”

“Don’t call me that,” you reply right away. “And despite what you think, I’m not touring this place with you. I’m probably never coming back here after today.” You start walking away, in the opposite direction of your parents, when he chases behind you.

“Y’know, I don’t get you. Every girl your age lounges around here all day, and everyone else wishes they could.”

“Well, you know what they say,” you start, smiling sweetly, though he sees through it again. “Idle hands are the devil’s workshop.”

“Really?” he shrugs. “Never heard that before.”

“Yeah, you wouldn’t have.” 

“Come on, you’re not even giving me a chance. You don’t even know me.” You laugh at that.

“Yes, I do, Rafe, you just don’t recognize me.” You continue your brisk pace, looking for the exit and getting closer. He reaches out to grab your forearm, holding you back for a second. He guides you into the corner, between the hallway where there’s no one else around.

“Yeah, that so?” Rafe is almost caging you in. He’s so close you can smell his cologne and the scotch on his lips.

“I’m from Kildare, Rafe.” You try to break free of his grip, but it proves even harder than you thought. He holds you in place without even breaking a sweat.

“No, no, no, because I know every pretty girl in Kildare. And you’ve definitely never been here before, so-”

“Really? Even the ones from the cut?” You thought that would be enough to get him to drop your arm, but he doesn’t budge.

“Huh. So that’s why you’ve never been here. Old Man Richards married a Pogue and made her daughter into a Kook? Did I get that right?”

“I’m not a Kook,” you say, squirming, because you still don’t want to be trapped by him. His cologne smells good, your mind wanders and thinks, like ocean air and sandalwood. You snap out of it at once.

“Not yet, you’re not.” 

“I’m not going to be, either. A little money isn’t going to change anything for me.”

“Yeah, yeah, kid. That’s what everyone says, ‘til it does.”

“Rafe, let go of me, I said let go-” And he does let go, quickly, and your arm falls. Faint red marks appeared when he was holding on, what can only be a bruise tomorrow. He’s marked you, and you’re not half as angry as you would have thought. 

“Come on, kid, we’re finishing this tour. I promised,” he says, and the last bit is so mocking, you can’t believe mom and Blake fell for his act. 

He takes you around the entire club, shows you the restaurants, the spa, the pool. At least a handful of girls stare at the two of you walking side by side, but Rafe doesn’t look back at anyone. You don’t know how to feel about that.

The oldest Cameron isn’t a mystery to anyone in Kildare, but you don’t know anything about him besides what the boys have told you. JJ hates him, naturally, John doesn’t let you look at him in passing, and even Pope can find a few bad things to say. But right now, he’s not doing any of those things you would have expected once he found out you and your mom are from the other side of the island. The crude jokes and gold-digger comments are nowhere to be heard.

But you can’t write him off completely yet. After all, this is Rafe Cameron.

He finishes the tour on the golf course, so you can wave to your parents on the course. You’re sipping on a lemonade through a little pink straw, and he finds it hard to look away when your cheeks hollow to draw up the liquid. Your mom and Blake wave back, and you smile—genuinely—for maybe the third time that morning. 

“They’re good together,” Rafe comments, on the walk back to the front door, where his truck is waiting. 

“Do you really think that?” you ask quietly. You’re tired, he can tell, drained from trying so hard to make sure he knows you hate him. 

“Yeah, kid, I do. He’s been a widower basically my whole life. And he married your mom, so he must really love her.”

You can’t tell if he’s just saying it to get on your good side. You hope he’s not. Through all of this, all the crying and the suffering and how much you miss your old life and your friends, if your mom doesn’t at least end up happy, it’ll all have been for nothing. You feel more tears brewing.

“Thanks, Rafe,” you end up saying quietly, as you put on the seat belt in the passenger seat of his truck. His music plays softly in the background of the drive - rap, something you've heard before but can't place - back to Blake’s house. With your window down, you stare out of it and try to pay attention to the breeze in your hair rather than the entirely overwhelming scent of Rafe, which is all-consuming in his car.

Rafe turns to look at you every few minutes. You look perfectly in place in his car, leaning against the panel with your eyes closed. That means you trust him, even though every word you say makes him think otherwise.

Your eyes flutter open when he puts the car in park, outside the door to your house. 

“Home sweet home, kid,” you hear his voice in your ear, but he sounds closer than he should be. When you turn to look, he’s leaning over you and so close to you, you feel the heat radiating from his body. 

“What’re you doing?” you ask quickly, heartbeat picking up and rocketing off. 

“M’just getting the door for you, kid.” His arm flexes, only an inch or two away from your chest, pulling the handle and swinging open the door. He leans back into his seat, smirking. “Why, what'd ya think I was gonna do?”

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding in and swallow uncomfortably. Your throat feels dry and your palms are suddenly clammy.

“Nothing.” 

“Sure. Whatever you say.”

You climb out of his car, shoes hitting the ground a little too hard. He strains his neck, trying to make sure you’re okay. 

“Thanks for the ride,” you say, not meeting his eyes, closing the door behind you. 

“Anytime, kid. I’ll be seeing you around.”

You thought he would take over the second the passenger-side door was shut, but he doesn’t. He stays and watches you fix your skirt that had ridden-up on the drive, and walk into the front door, glancing behind you, just for a second, before going inside. And then you hear the roar of the engine, only after the door was closed and you were safely inside.

౨ৎ

You didn’t take it literally, that you would be seeing him again. Rafe seems like the type to play with his toys and get bored before long, but true to his word, you see him days later. And to his luck, you were feeling even worse than the first time you met him.

The morning started like any other—showering in a bathroom that’s just yours, and no one else’s, and attached to your bedroom. You can hardly remember the years when your dad was alive, but after he passed, you and your mom moved into a tiny two-bed, one-bath with your mom’s best friend. You were there for the next five years, until she got married and moved out, and it was just the two of you. But even in all the years since, you’ve never had your own bathroom until now. 

You shower as long as you want, whenever you want. Your room is in a completely different hallway than the master, where Blake and your mom sleep. You blast music at night, singing along off-tune from the bathroom, and would stay on the phone for hours with your friends. If anyone answered your calls anymore. 

It’s been three weeks since you broke the news to everyone that you were moving. Two weeks since you actually moved. One week since Rafe walked you around the country club and drove you back home, like you belonged to him. In that time, you’ve driven down to the Chateau twice, walked by Kie’s house, which is now just a few blocks away, and texted multiple times—all with no responses. At first you panic, thinking something’s happened, but then you realize this was what always happened. When you’re off on an adventure, you don’t think about who’s waiting for you back at home.

That’s what’s running through your mind when you run into Rafe again that day.

You had showered without interruption, taking your time doing your hair up just because you felt like it. There was no work to be done, no chores assigned to you anymore. Breakfast was always prepared when you went downstairs, so you took your time getting ready now. 

You missed a lot of things about your old life, but the limited time and constant rushing and anxiety were not among them. 

Your clothes were picked out with the anticipation of seeing your best friends again, your favorite overalls from the thrift store—which had been bought when you were still two sizes too small for them, and had been baggy on you until last year, but they were such a steal your mother refused to let you put them back—and a yellow shirt to match your ratty, yellow converse. They had been washed so many times they were more brown than yellow, but it didn’t matter much. 

This outfit was the old you, and it brought up feelings inside you that nothing in figure eight could change. You wore it because you wouldn’t look any different to your friends in this outfit, and for maybe a few hours, you wouldn’t be the girl in the fancy house with the country club membership anymore.

“You look nice, sweetie,” your mom says, when you head downstairs. She’s drinking her coffee at the table, your step-dad nowhere to be found. It’s eleven in the morning and she’s just woken up too, in her robe and slippers, and you smile, watching her more relaxed than you’ve seen in years.

You swing by her side of the table to give her a kiss, and steal a piece of toast from her plate. You’re relieved she doesn’t mention your clothes, not when she keeps offering to take you shopping with Blake’s money, which you keep refusing, but is getting more tempting every time you step in a puddle in these shoes.

“Thanks mom, I’m going to see the boys and Kie, I’ll be back later, don’t wait up!” and with that you’re gone, before you can discern the disapproving look in her eyes. 

Your junky old car, older than you by several years and still somehow the nicest thing you own—used to own, a voice chirps in the back of your head—is hidden around several fancy cars in the driveway. It’s intentional, you’re sure, and likely your mother’s doing. Nothing embarrassed her more than you handing out constant reminders of your old life to everyone around you.

And then you’re on the way to the Chateau, windows down and no music, since there was no way to connect your phone and the radio was busted by Pope a year ago, who claims he was trying to fix it. 

But it’s what happens when you get there that embarasses you the most—no one’s there, and no one will answer your call. You wait around for a half hour, trying to see if they come back, but they don’t. 

And that’s when it hits you. They were off on their adventures, and you weren’t just down the street anymore, which meant you weren’t invited. You get back in your car and slam the door, humiliated, tears falling down your face and probably ruining the makeup you had done, stupidly, this morning, because you wanted to look nice for them, like your old self for them. You don’t realize until later, after you were done crying, and seen Rafe again, that your friends didn’t want to bother you while you were adjusting to your new life. 

You feel betrayed, and the words that John had told you rattle through your head, because he was wrong. Everything had changed, and nothing would be the same. 

You take off, heading back home. There’s a big storm brewing and your Accord gets dramatic in the rain. It’s not until you cross the border back into figure eight that you realize two things. One, that you had just thought of your new house as home for the first time. And two, that you had never felt more alone. 

There’s not much to do about either of these feelings, besides stopping for the biggest bowl of ice cream you can reasonably carry back home, and eating it in your room, crying and watching You’ve Got Mail for the hundredth time.

So that’s what you do, pulling into the ice cream shop closest to home. Your car also doesn’t have the greatest functioning air conditioner, and you don’t need any more questionable stains in your seats, considering how many times JJ had borrowed it and returned it, promising you it’s nothing and that that spot in the back seat was always there!

In line, tapping your foot, calling your mom’s cell. Your eyes are puffy and your nose is red from crying. She’s not answering, but the unspoken rule of your little family is to always, always call when you’re getting ice cream in case the other wants something. You’ve only been gone something like two hours, and you can’t imagine what she’s doing that she can’t answer your phone. You dial Blake’s number, hoping he answers instead, and while it’s ringing you realize it’s your turn to order. You haven’t even looked at the menu yet. 

You turn to the people behind you, telling them they can go in front, but when you look up from your phone, you almost drop it. 

Of course it’s Rafe Cameron behind you. Of course. Who else would it be? Who else would keep catching you at your lowest moments? He’s with a little girl, who can’t be older than four or five, with dark hair and glasses, holding his hand patiently while staring up at you, while you stare at him and he stares back.

“Rafe, she said we can go in front,” she says, tugging on the hand she’s holding. 

“Yeah, Wheeze, I heard. Let’s go order and then thank this nice girl for letting us go ahead, right?” The little girl nods, and follows him up to order. Rafe looks back at you but then your step-dad answers, so you turn away, cheeks heating up. You don’t want him to see.

“Hi, what’s going on?” you hear his voice through the phone, sort of staticky and jumbled. 

“Hi, Blake, I just wanted to ask if you and mom wanted ice cream? I’m at the place… yeah, the one near the house.”

“Oh, yes, let me ask her, one second-” You hear him put the phone down, or cover the mic, and then, “Honey! Kiddo’s asking if you want ice cream.” 

You feel yourself soften a little bit at the nickname. And then you hear your mom and Blake talking back and forth, for what feels like ages. The girl behind the counter looks at you with a glare and you try to look back at her with an apologetic smile, but you’re a little fed-up from the emotional turmoil you’ve just endured. 

“Hi, sweetie, I’m okay, I had some at the club with lunch and twice in a day is just not a good idea-”

“Just get it, who cares? We can have it later tonight too-”

“What if the power goes out? It’ll melt, and then it’s just a waste of money-” Crap. You hadn’t thought of that.

“We have generators for that.” Blake picks up the phone again. “Hey, kiddo, get your mom her usual and make sure you use the card I gave you, okay?”

You hang up the phone, smiling, and then order. It feels weird, being oddly comforted by someone other than your mom or your friends for once. In your distraction, you don’t see Rafe and the little girl hovering near the freezer window that showcases all the ice cream they offer. When you’re reaching for the shiny black Amex, you hear him again. 

“I got it, kid,” Rafe says, pressing his matching card against the reader and pushing your wrist down and away. He does it so easily, without trying, just like he did in the country club. You look up at him stupidly, brain not registering what he just did and why he did it, and you don’t move for a moment. You don’t move until he leans down a little, close enough to smell that enticing cologne again but not nearly close enough. 

“I think the words you’re looking for are ‘thank you’. And you should probably get out of the way.” You blink back up at him, and he’s smirking again. You feel kind of stupid, the way he’s talking to you, but you also don’t mind as much as you thought you would. The girl behind the counter yells out Next! and that’s when Rafe takes you by the arm, just above where he had bruised you, and moves you away himself.

“You okay, kid?” he asks, and you feel yourself melt like ice cream left in your car for too long. You don’t know if he really means it, or if he really cares, but you do know Rafe Cameron needs to stop talking to you like he likes you, or you’re going to be in trouble.

“Fine, yeah. Thanks, uh, thanks for the ice cream.” You’re still blinking slowly, stupidly, stuck in a daze. You should really get it together around him. It’s a little pathetic if a strong grip and a couple of nice actions gets you acting like this. That’s a problem for another day right now.

“Is she okay, Rafe?” the little girl asks quietly from beside him. 

“No idea, Wheezie. Why don’t you sit and eat your ice cream?” he replies, and she sits down a few tables away, beginning to shovel chocolate ice cream with a tiny wooden spoon.

“Hey,” he says, and you begin to snap out of it. It’s raining outside now. You hear the pitter-patter of the drops on the roof. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yes. I am. I just had a bad morning. Sorry.” But you don’t know what you’re apologizing for.

“Well, are you gonna talk about it and shit? ‘Cause I don’t know you that well yet but you’re kinda freaking me out right now.”

“I-I…I just-”

“You, you, you just?” he mocks, and then when tears fill your pretty eyes and he sees one slip down your face, his own eyes panic briefly. “Hey, hey, I was just joking, kid-” He pulls out a colorful chair for you, and sits you down next to Wheezie, who is still eating ice cream at an alarming rate. Your ice cream is ready at the counter, and he brings it down next to you, holding his own strawberry cone in his hand. 

“Hold this for me Wheeze,” he says, not really asking, and the little girl shakes her head right away.

“How’m I gonna eat mine then?” 

“Wheezie,” Rafe says, in a voice that you haven’t heard him use before—and then you realize how stupid you sound. You’ve talked with him twice, you don’t know anything about the voices he uses or how he sounds when he’s talking to this girl who can only be his little sister. 

“Can I have some?” Wheezie propositions back, and Rafe nods. “Okay!” she says, taking a bite of the scoop with her front teeth.

“So, y’gonna tell me what’s going on or am I gonna have to guess everything?” 

“My friends, I just keep missing them, or they keep missing me, maybe. I just wanted to see them. It’s really lonely here, that’s all.” You’re staring into his eyes, his really, really blue eyes that are currently a little alarmed and concerned, and the fact that they’re that way for you is making you a little dizzy. 

“Yeah, I get that. Sorry, kid, that’s the lay of the land, right? Not a Pogue anymore, are you?” 

“I don’t know what I am.” You feel silly and embarrassed for pouring your heart out over ice cream with Rafe Cameron. He doesn’t know you, and he never will.

“Well, right now you have a choice. You can sit here and eat ice cream with us, or you can go home and cry about it alone. But if you choose the second one, Richards and Anna will see you, or hear you, and ask about it. And I’m not gonna keep asking if you don’t wanna talk. So pick one before this shi-stuff melts, okay?” 

You nod dumbly again. You’d like to turn your brain off and let Rafe decide for you. 

“I need a spoon.” He smiles, not smirks, for a second, before getting up to get you a spoon.

A few things float through your mind while you eat ice cream with the Camerons. First, Rafe remembers your mom’s name. Second, Rafe doesn’t swear in front of his kid sister. And third, and most important of all, Rafe Cameron cares about you.

“That’s a lot of ice cream,” Wheeze, or rather—as you’ve just learned—Wheezie, comments.

“I was feeling really sad,” you reply, shoving another spoonful into your mouth, watching the little girl eye your peanut and chocolate ice cream inquisitively. “You’ll understand someday.”

“Boy problems?” she asks, and you can’t help but crack a smile. Rafe looks up from his phone momentarily 

“Not really, but a good guess. This would also apply to that situation.”

“My sister’s always got boy problems.”

“Really?” you ask, and then look up Rafe. “You have another sister?”

“Yes,” he says, in between licks of strawberry ice cream. You should really look away when he does that, because your heart rate is picking up. “And she’s even more annoying than this one.”

You laugh while Wheezie frowns.

“If I’m so annoying, why do you always take me for ice cream, huh?”

“She’s got you there, Rafe,” and you resist the urge to look at him, even when you can feel his eyes on you. 

“Because you wouldn’t stop asking, dork, that’s why.” Wheezie shrugs in reply.

“I’m not gonna finish all of this. You want some, Wheezie?” you ask, offering her your spoon. She looks back at you smiling, and then at Rafe for permission, who nods.

She digs into the pile left, while you finally give into the urge to look up at her brother again. He takes another lick of his ice cream and you look away within a second. 

“Been eating that for a while, haven’t you, Rafe?”

“Yeah.” 

Somewhere in between Wheezie eating so much of the ice cream so quickly that she gets a brain freeze, and Rafe finally tossing his half-eaten cone into the trash, it’s time to go home. And as much as you hate to admit it, you don’t want to leave. The rain is coming down hard outside, a preview of the impending hurricane.

“Drive here, kid?” he asks, as your feet hesitate by the door. 

“No,” Wheezie answers, “I came here with you, dork.”

“Not talking to you, kid,” he replies, rustling the top of her hair with his hand, getting an ugh, Rafe, in response.

“Yeah. Yes, I drove here. But my car doesn’t do so good in the rain.”

“Huh?” he questions.

“It’s old, okay. Junky. The AC is broken. And the radio. Sometimes she just stops, y’know?” You gesture to your blue car parked out front, the rusty, tiny sedan two spots down from his shiny truck.

“No, I don’t know. Richards lets you drive around in that thing?”

“She.”

“It’s a car. Barely, at that.”

“She has a name, okay. HoHo. That’s her name.”

“Alright, well, you’re gonna have to ditch the hoe, because I can’t let you drive home in a hurricane in… that.” You turn to glare at him. “Her, sorry.”

That’s how you end up soaking wet in the passenger seat of Rafe’s truck, Wheezie secured in her booster seat and Rafe even wetter than you are. He drops you home and says the two of you can go pick up your car tomorrow—if it’s still there, he adds at the end, leaning over you again to open your door. You stare at him dumbly again, which has now become a bad habit, and it’s not until Wheezie says you’re getting her wet in the back that you finally climb out and close the door. You stand behind the front door with your mom’s melted ice cream in one hand, and your phone with Rafe’s contact saved in the other, wondering what exactly just happened. 

౨ৎ

The next few weeks pass through as quickly as they came. Your car—to your chagrin and your mother’s joy—does not survive the hurricane. Blake gives you a fancy, luxury car to drive around in that he just had laying around, which you don’t believe for one second. But, your mom is pleased when you actually start driving it, and you can actually listen to music from your phone and enjoy air conditioning and the most luxurious of luxuries—a backup camera. 

The night of the ice cream shop incident, Rafe texts you. You were completely ready to wallow in bed, waiting for the text from him that never comes, drowning your sorrow in more ice cream, but he does text you. First and right away. 

R: Is it wrong if I hope hoho drowns tonight?

that’s so mean. she never did anything to you.

R: She’s kinda ugly. And what was that about no ac?

so she deserves death????

R: The impound lot at the very least

if she dies, it’ll be because YOU manifested it

R: Never thought I’d believe in that manifesting shit, but here we are

did Wheezie eat dinner after how much ice cream you let her inhale?

R: No.

R: Ur fault. You gave her yours

you gave her yours too

and btw, I offered her a bite. she ate the rest. not my fault

R: She’s five, genius

R: I’ll come around noon tomorrow. Sleep tight kid

౨ৎ

Somewhere in between picking up your car—which entailed no less than stopping for lunch, even more ice cream that you can’t stand to watch him eat, and driving through town to see how bad the damage from hurricane Agatha was, and altogether three hours together ending with a wet, heated kiss in his truck with the windows fogged up—and today, you’ve been with Rafe more times than you can count. 

And you try hard to suppress the thought that it’s just because he’s available, that the availability is the reason for your attraction. And then you catch yourself trying to justify why you want to see Rafe so much, this guy that you had just been assuming was bad because your friends told you he was bad, without much in the way of an explanation. 

But Rafe is the furthest thing from bad. He’s so sweet to you it makes you delirious. He picks you up all the time, even when you tell him you’re just at home, and your car is right there. He pays for everything, he opens every door, the gentle but teasing way he is with Wheezie makes you even more head over heels.

But most important of all, he calls you first. He texts you first. He makes you feel wanted, and you definitely, definitely, want him, so you don’t think twice before saying yes to accompanying him to Midsummers. 

You actually don’t know what it really is, besides for a big party. It was always one of the worst nights at the hospital—litters of teens with alcohol poisoning and from car accidents— so your mom would be working. When you turned eighteen, your mom paid for classes to become a junior nurse, and so busy nights like the one of Midsummers usually was, you would get called in too. So before this week, you’d never spent Midsummers doing anything other than cleaning wounds and fetching suture kits.

You tell Rafe this and he looks at you strangely, another of his looks you hadn’t seen before, with furrowed brows, and you flush and apologize, regretting even opening your mouth. 

You know you’re deeper than you thought when he takes your head between his hands and kisses you—messy, with tongue and spit left glimmering over your mouth, so much so that he wipes the corner of your mouth with his thumb when he’s done. 

“Go get yourself a pretty dress, and we’ll have fun, yeah?” You nod stupidly again, the way you’re prone to doing around him. He must have realized you get a kick out being told what to do by him, what to worry about and what to focus on. 

You finally take your mom up on the offer to go shopping. Her and your step-dad are going to this thing anyways, but you can tell she wasn’t completely sure you’d go to something so Kook-y, maybe not just yet, and she doesn’t want to push it since your mood finally seems to have picked up. But then you tell her Rafe asked you to go with him, and the two of you smile and jump around the living room, laughing like kids. She’s happy for you and you’re happy that the two of you are happy at the same time.

Rafe sends you money for a dress—enough money to pay for a month’s rent at your old place. Your mom says your step-dad insists on paying. You feel like things are coming together for the first time.

You wander the stores, trying on different dresses and feeling like a scene out of a movie until you finally find the perfect blue dress. Blue for Rafe’s eyes and his suit jacket, because you’re not embarrassed to admit to him that you want to match for Midsummers. It’s patterned with little flowers, ruffles and lace moving in the wind when you twirl, and for once, you stop feeling like you need to pick a side to be on—Pogue or Kook—and you decide just to be Rafe’s for now.

The night of the party, Rafe offers to pick you up, but you tell him you’ll come with your parents. They’re both wearing shades of peach and salmon, the three of you together look like you’re headed to a baby shower, which you and your mom laugh about in the car ride there. 

You text Rafe to let him know you’re there, and tell your parents you’re going to walk around to find him. When you glance back, they’re talking with some of Blake’s friends, people he had invited to the wedding.

You see, what you can only think, is a glimpse of Pope, in his usual waiter get up, but he disappears before you can see where he was. His father is still there, though, and you make your way through the crowd to get near him.

“Hi, Mr. Heyward,” you say, smiling and unsure if he’ll recognize you. You don’t think he’s ever seen you in anything but your overalls or scrubs. 

“How can I help yo-wait, is that you, well I’ll be damned. You’re blending right in, aren’t ya?”

“Well, it took long enough.” You suddenly feel embarrassed, because he knows the old you, the one who wouldn’t be here in a million years. “Do you know where Pope is? I thought I saw him, I just wanted to say hi.”

“He just went off that way, but if you see him, tell him I still need his help over here, just like I did before he walked away—”

“Can I help with anything?” you ask quickly, but he shakes his head and tells you the direction Pope went in.

You follow it generally, trying to see where he could have gone in such a short time. But then you see all of them, and you can’t stop your feet from running over. Kie, JJ, and Pope, all standing and talking about something, but you don’t really care about interrupting. Kie’s all dressed up too, and you suddenly don’t feel so embarrassed.

“You guys,” you feel yourself gushing. “It’s been so long,” and you go in for a hug with each of them. 

“Wow, god, you look so pretty,” Kie says, and you hug her again. You don’t realize how much you missed her. 

“You too, Kie,” your smile is so wide it starts to hurt. “Isn’t this so weird, all of us here at this party? Where’s John B?” you ask, looking around. 

“So weird,” JJ says, and you notice the bruise around his right eye because he’s turning to look at Kie again. 

“JJ, what the hell happened to your face?” JJ doesn’t answer, he actually doesn’t say anything at all, which should have been your first sign that something was wrong. You look at him quizzically, before turning to Pope.

“Pope, your dad’s looking for you, I just went over to say hi-”

“Oh crap,” he says, heading back in the direction you just came from. “Sorry, be right back.”

“W-what the hell is going on?” you question Kie and JJ, searching for any answer, desperately hoping that it isn’t we don’t wanna tell you. Your phone goes off, twice, and you pick it up. The look on your face must have been beyond palpable to your friends.

R🧸ྀི: Come inside the house

R🧸ྀི: Got a surprise for you

“I-I gotta go inside,” you say, looking at the confused faces of your friends.

“What’s inside? I thought-”

“No, nothing, I don’t know, Rafe just asked me to go inside, and I haven’t even seen him yet-”

“Rafe? What, Rafe Cameron?”

“Y-yeah?”

“What are you, with him, or something?” JJ asks, and you feel your heart fall into your stomach.

“I-I yeah, maybe. I’m here with him tonight, he-” Your phone goes off again. “I’m sorry, I have to go find him, but I’ll come find you guys right after, okay?”

You leave the two of them there, looking at each other confused, looking at you like they don’t recognize you. And it stings, for a moment, until you get inside the mansion and find Rafe hanging out by the entrance, nursing a glass of scotch and eyes lighting up when they see you. 

Everything with him is like that scene from that movie. Lights go dim, you walk in slow-motion, the room goes quiet. He watches you walk up to him and his eyes take in everything—your pretty hair, your dolled up face, the way your dress moves when you walk, and most of all, that you’re here with him. He reaches his hand out to grab you by the waist to bring you in for a kiss. It’s not like the others, it’s chaste and soft and romantic. 

“Hi,” you breathe out, resting your forehead against his.

“Hi, kid. You look fantastic,” and he presses another sweet kiss to your temple. 

“We’re matching,” you say with a smile, taking in his blue suit jacket and the way you feel dizzy right now, and you feel his grip tighten around your waist. 

“Yeah, we are. Now get in line with me, we’re walking out together.” Your eyes are big like coins, because you understood that you were coming here together, but this is his family’s big night, if everything your mom and Blake told you was to be taken seriously.

You don’t have time to say anything, because Rafe’s nice parents line up ahead of you, and his two sisters behind you. Wheezie tugs on your dress and you turn to greet her and Sarah quickly, because then the doors open and you’re walking out, following Rafe’s lead, lots and lots of eyes on you, but only one pair of blue ones you really care about. 

You almost want to cry, the whole thing is so magical. You have a flute of champagne and a sip of Rafe’s scotch, and you are deliciously tipsy for the next two hours. Your parents come over to talk to you and Rafe, and you can see how happy your mom is in her eyes. You and Rafe dance until your feet hurt, and it’s only then, when he leaves your sight, that things seem to get back down to how they normally are. 

You can’t find Wheezie’s parents or Sarah anywhere. The little girl spilled ice cream on her dress and is crying quietly, fat tears rolling down her chubby cheeks. You want to get her parents, because you think they can help, but you end up taking her to the bathroom yourself. With a damp paper towel, you wipe as much as you can, and you promise to get her another ice cream if she stops crying.

“It’s just a stain, honey, don’t worry.” You toss the dirty tissue and grab another one, wiping the tears and then letting her blow her nose. “It’ll come out when you wash it. And no one will notice because it’s so dark now, right?” She nods in agreement. “Do you wanna go find your big brother?” Another sad nod. “Let’s go honey,” and you take her hand and lead her back out. 

You’re not entirely sure what you missed in the last fifteen minutes. Everyone’s gone quiet, staring at what you hope is a trick of your eyes—all of your friends running from the party, hooting and hollering. Kiara’s parents look hopelessly upset, Mr. Heyward downright disappointed, and your mom scanning the crowd, trying to see where you are, until she spots you and Wheezie.

Her and Mrs. Cameron come running over, and you instinctively flinch, thinking the giant headpiece she’s wearing will poke you. You hand off Wheezie and turn to look at your friends, and you think, for a second, they’re waiting for you. They are, you realize slowly, waiting for you.

And you almost take off right then and there, until you feel Rafe’s warm hand on your shoulder, and you look up to see him bleeding.

At that moment, you turn right back around and head inside to the nearest room, sitting Rafe down on the bed and scrambling to find something to clean his wound with, and something cold to help the swelling, and in your panic, you don’t realize you’re rambling.

“I mean, what the hell was all of that? I turn around for two seconds and everyone’s running from the party like there’s a fire, and destroying things and throwing punches, I mean, I get they hate the whole Kook thing, but it was never like this before, even when I didn’t know you yet, and I-” you drop the frozen bag of peas onto the floor in your sudden realization. “I just let them leave. They waited for me. I didn’t go with them.” Your eyes fill with years. That’s a betrayal, not all the stupid stuff you thought was happening before tonight. They waited for you, and you turned right back around to go inside with Rafe.

“Hey, hey hey,” Rafe says quietly, taking your head in his hands again. “Hey, it’s gonna be okay.”

“You’re bleeding, Rafe,” you say, voice trembling. Your tears are ruining your makeup. 

“I’m gonna be fine. You know why?” he asks, and you feel more tears rush down. “Hey, hey, no crying.” Rafe wipes away the tears with his hand, then he brings his hands to your back and rubs soothingly. “You know why, kid?” “Why?” it comes out a whisper.

“Because you chose me. We’re gonna be fine, okay?” 

The way he says it you believe him. 

You spend the next two days at Tannyhill with Rafe, wearing nothing but his t-shirts and doing nothing but rolling around in bed. It’s been a month, maybe a little bit more, and you haven’t even had the talk yet—the sex talk. There’s no doubt in your mind that he’s not ready for it, but you’re not ready for it, not yet. You’re working on it. He doesn’t make it easy for you, either. You’ve spent hours now, making out in his lap, grinding against each other until you make a mess all over his shorts and his hair is sticking up in every direction, and working your way up to telling him what you want. 

You’re almost there. You’re waiting for the perfect time. Which was almost right now.

“You like that? Shit-” he breathes into your ear, pressing a kiss to the tender skin of your neck right underneath. It makes you moan again, louder, until he clamps a hand—the one not three fingers deep inside your leaking pussy—over your mouth, barricading the noise from leaving. “Gotta be quiet, kid, you want the whole house hearin’ what a little slut you are?” 

His blue eyes, lustful and blown, stare into your own. You shake your head softly underneath the tight grip of his palm. You’re always obedient with him, but he really likes you like this. 

“Yeah? You gonna do whatever daddy tells you? Just so I keep my fingers in this tight pussy?” You nod compliantly, head falling back on to the pillow. His fingers are thick, and the cool of his ring rubs against your clit in the best way, in ways you didn’t even realize it could feel.

He keeps fucking three fingers in and out of you, moans muffled by his hand but not completely silenced. You must be making a mess, because it’s what he keeps talking about, rambling about your messy cunt, greedy and sucking him in, and how you’ve been cumming for him like a little princess for the last two days, but it’s never enough for you. 

It’s when he removes his hand and kisses you hard instead, tongue deep inside you mouth, the metal of his chain dangling on your chin, and you feel the similarly cool metal of his ring on you, you finish again, exploding around your boyfriend’s fingers and moaning into his mouth. He hears you, repeating his name over and over again, not Rafe, but rather daddy, and he swallows your chants into his mouth. When you calm down, he makes a show of licking his fingers off while locking eyes, and then you get flustered and bury your head into his neck. 

He laughs, because it’s so cute, but only for a minute. Then you two shower together and he makes another show, but this time out of you, kneeling on the floor of his tub while he paints your face with his cum, making sure to cover the necklace you’ve been wearing recently too, the silver, loopy little R hanging between your collarbone. 

Then you get dressed—a little pink dress that’s been his favorite recently, with buttons down the front and a pretty bow where your tits sit— and the two of you have lunch with his family like nothing ever happened.

Rafe drops you back at home later that day, gives you a kiss where he grabs the back of your head to bring you in, and then waves bye to your parents as he unlatches the door for you, in his usual way. 

౨ৎ

A week later, he does the same thing. Drops you off, drives away once you’re inside, and you’re starstruck walking back, so much so, you don’t realize there’s someone waiting for you.

It’s Kie, and Rafe’s sister, Sarah. You’re a little confused since you thought the two of them didn’t get

along,  but they look like they’re fine now.

“Hey, listen, we need you to help us. Can you come down to the Chateau later tonight, after sunset?” Kie asks, and you must look as confused as you feel, because Sarah speaks right away, before you can get a word out.

“You cannot tell my brother. Promise us you won’t.”

“Why are you asking me that? Why can’t I tell him?” Sarah and Kie exchange a look, and it’s clear to you that you are missing several pieces of the puzzle. “Guys! Come on, you-you can’t expect me to just be on board with lying to my boyfriend and showing up to help you guys without knowing what it even is, right? What’s going on?”

“We will explain everything, just please promise us that you’ll come,” Kie implores and you nod hesitantly. 

“And you won’t tell Rafe?” Sarah asks again.

“Come on. Pogues for life, right?” Kie says, and you get a flashback to your life two months

ago—doing anything for your friends and dreaming of how you’d end up with one of the boys someday. It all seems like a million years ago.

“Yes, yeah, yeah, I’ll be there. I won’t tell him.”

You guess that God was on your side today. 

R🧸ྀི: Hey kid. Busy with my dad today. Dinner tomorrow okay?

sounds perfect!! don’t work too hard! i'm gonna watch a movie with my mom and blake and stay in tn

R🧸ྀི: You got mail again?

you know me so well

R🧸ྀི: Have fun princess.

You set down your phone on your dresser, feeling like you could throw up your dinner. It’s just starting to get dark outside, and you’ve just lied to Rafe for the first time since you’ve met him. It feels terrible, like something’s gnawing inside you, begging you to come clean and confess, or not to go out at all. You think about it for a moment, maybe if he knows you’re with some of your old friends, it won’t be like a real lie.

Then you remember your old friends are the ones who punched him. You tell your mom you’re going to Rafe’s, and then you get in your fancy car that Rafe helped you christen the other day—in the backseat, specifically—and drive to your old life.

You park next to the Twinkie and get out, stepping into a slush of mud. Your shoes are new, and were clean, and you cringe internally at how much you started caring about these things. You don’t want Rafe to see you with dirty shoes.

The boys and Kie are sitting on the logs near the fire pit. Sarah is sitting right next to John B, looking at him how you look at Rafe, and then you realize the magnitude of just how much you’ve missed.

“Hey,” Kie says, looking up first, smiling. “You came.”

“Yeah.” You’re at a loss for words. Everyone looks the same. Everything feels so different.

A part of you wants to sink down between Pope and JJ, crack a beer, and laugh at jokes you think you would still understand. Another part wants to get into the fancy car and drive to Tannyhill. You opt for neither, standing a few yards away and letting the light from the fire cast its hazy glow over you and all your old friends.

“Did you tell him?” Sarah asks. She means it well, not in a rude way, but that’s how you feel. 

“No, no, I didn’t. He, he thinks I’m at home. With my mom and Blake.”

“Alright,” JJ says, tossing his empty beer can. “Let’s get this show on the road.”

“Listen,” John B says, getting up and sounding too sincere for your liking. “We all appreciate you coming. Because we need a favor from you, and it might not be easy.”

“I mean, I think it’s gonna be pretty easy. Unless Rafe is like, really, really crazy, like even crazier than we already know he is-” JJ says, but stops when Kie and Pope shake their heads. “What? She knows, she’s the one dating him.”

“Know what? I don’t even know what you want from me-”

“We need a distraction. For Rafe, okay?” John B starts.

“An hour, okay, that’s all we need, right guys?” Sarah asks, looking back at everyone. They nod, trying to convince you, except Jayj.

“Well, like, maybe a couple of hours. If he’s up to that, y’know, I don’t wanna assume shit ‘bout stamina and all that-”

“JJ,” Pope says, shoving the blond’s arm. “You’re not helping.”

“What?” you breathe out, even more confused than before. You start to get what they’re asking, you just don’t want to admit it.

“We need to distract Rafe, for an hour, or like two hours, and we figured you’re our best bet.” John B says, and you look at them with your mouth falling open a little.

“You want me to…sleep with my boyfriend, to distract him, so you guys can do something that you won’t tell me about?”

“Kind of, yeah. Pretty much.”

“And is, is this thing going to hurt him in the long run? Is he going to be upset? When he finds out what happened?”

“My Kook feelings radar is a little off, right now, but who knows, I mean hell, he might not ever find out,” JJ says, and you want to sit down, because your knees feel weak, but the ground is muddy and the logs are occupied. “If we do our job right, he won’t know for a long, long time, right guys?” A chorus of right, right rings around the fire. 

“And you’re not gonna tell me what this is about at all?” 

“Well, it might not be a good idea. Because, you’re dating him, and listen, we just need like an hour, and he never has to know you were a part of this, okay? I will never tell him, none of us will,” Sarah says, and you do believe her. But you can’t believe that they’re asking you to do this.

“And if he finds out, and he breaks up with me, then what?” 

“Yeah, I, uh, knew this was a bad idea. She’s not gonna do it, guys, so let’s just reformulate-”

“Oh, you knew I was gonna say no, JJ? Lying to my boyfriend? For the people who hurt him?”

“He hurt us too, y’know,” Pope says, and you feel your heart begin to race. 

“No, I don’t know, because no one tells me anything! No one answers their phone and no one’s here when I drive down. Kie, you live two streets away from me now. The first time I saw you all month was at Midsummers and then, today. Asking me to come here to lie to Rafe, to sleep with him to distract him.”

“No, no, we shouldn’t have asked you, because I knew you would say no, I told them-” and you can’t believe the words coming from your friend's mouth. “Look at you, you went total Kook on us.” 

And then you feel like they’re taking it all in. The R around your neck, the jewelry that sparkles in the light of the fire, all yellow citrine, for Rafe’s birth month. The pink dress that’s his favorite—you put it on this morning in case you ended up back at Tannyhill tonight. And worst of all, his white button up hanging from your shoulders, smelling like ocean and sandalwood and Rafe Cameron. 

“It’s like you belong to him now.” You feel a tear sliding down, but you wipe it away. 

“Maybe that’s because he was actually there for me, when I needed it. And I get it, maybe I should have tried harder. But you guys should have too.”

The group of you stand there in silence for a moment. Your phone goes off. You know it’s Rafe. They know it is too. It starts with Kie, and then a course of apologies from everyone. John B wipes away your tears like nothing has changed. JJ scratches his head, and then hugs you tighter than he ever has before. Pope tells you how much he’s missed you, how he had to start bandaging wounds in your absence. 

“I’ll distract him. An hour, that’s all you get. I’m not sleeping with him because you guys want me to, okay? So if he leaves, he leaves.” 

You take off for Tannyhill, leaving your old life behind and risking your new one all at once.

౨ৎ

Rafe’s phone goes off again, and he lets out a short, tight breath. 

Princess: are you still busy at home? i need you

Princess: please rafey

“I’ll be back,” he tells Ward, and before he can even respond, he’s out of the room, calling you. The line rings twice, and then you answer.

“Rafey?” you sound quiet, like you’ve been crying.

“Hey, hey kid. What’s going on? I told you I was working tonight,” and then he runs a hand through his hair, because he knows he’s fucked, if you’re crying and you need him, then he’s going.

“I know, Rafe, I just really need you, I had a really bad night-” “Woah, wait, I thought you were just with your parents?”

“I was, it just got really bad, I-I’m outside Tannyhill because I had to leave, and then I got lost and I was scared so I just came straight here.”

“Lost? Jeez, kid, it’s, like, down the street.”

“But I didn’t wanna bother you, ‘cause you were busy-” and then he hears a hiccup, and then a sob.

“Okay, okay, stay there, I’m gonna come get you,” and he hangs up the call. He darts outside, spotting your navy car and you inside, still in the same clothes from this morning, just wearing his shirt over it, like a jacket. He gets close and you climb out of the car yourself, jumping into his arms and burying your face into his neck, like you always do when you get like this. He can feel the way your body shakes under his arms, the wetness of your tears on his black polo.

“Okay, it’s okay now, come on, let’s go inside.” You make it up the stairs to his bedroom, when Rafe guides you inside and pulls his blinds, so no one peeks inside. 

He sits you up on the edge of his bed, squatting before you, hands in yours, arms resting on your knees. 

“You gonna tell me what happened?” You shake your head, another tear falling. You wish you could say you were pretending, but the tears find their own way when you think about the encounter you just had. You’re lying when you tell him it’s between you and your parents, but his reaction makes you regret it instantly. “Did they say somethin’ to you? Did they try something? I’ll go over there and sort it all out, okay, kid, don’t worry about a thing.” He stands up, running another hand through his messy hair, letting it fall in the moppy way it always does, over his forehead. “Stay here, okay, princess, I’ll be back.”

Then you realize he’s gonna go over there and talk to your perfectly happy, clueless parents, so you stand up and turn him back around.

“No, no, Rafe, don’t leave,” and then you melt into a hug, taking in everything about it. Rafe rests his chin on the top of your head, his arms tight around your back. He smells so good, and the way he’s taking care of you makes you realize a couple things. “Will you just…make me forget?”

Your boyfriend looks down at you, and you don’t shy away from his gaze like you often, when you get flustered. 

“Make you forget?” he questions. 

“I just don’t wanna think about anything else,” you start, undoing the bow of your dress, more cleavage revealing itself. “I just wanna think about you,” and then your fingers undo the buttons trailing down the front of your dress. It falls off your shoulders, and you stand before him, naked, certainly not for the first time but what feels like the most intimate it’s ever been. 

There’s a pretty lingerie set hidden in the back of your closet, what you had actually put aside for this moment, but you had no time to run home and get it, so you opted for the next best thing, taking your bra and panties off in the car ride here, shoving them into your purse, and hoping that Rafe was as tempted as you were.

“Just about me?” he questions, and you take his hand into yours, leaning in to press a soft kiss against his lips.

“Just you, Rafe. I’m ready, Rafey, I want you to fuck me,” and it seems like that’s all it takes. Rafe crushes his lips against yours, kissing you how he always does, tongue in your mouth and spit everywhere. He holds you by the back of your head and your hands run through his hair. You want him closer, even closer than he already is, than he possibly could be.

His hands leave your head and go down to your ass, grabbing both cheeks roughly and wrapping your legs around his waist. He drops you on his bed, head hitting the pillow, and you pull away for a second, to catch your breath. Rafe doesn’t let it happen, gripping your cheeks between his hand and bringing you back in for another kiss. You’re naked, and he’s still completely dressed, but you don’t miss the obvious way his hardened dick presses against your bare cunt.

You can’t breathe, and all your senses are overpowered by Rafe, but you also don’t really care. You keep kissing, moaning into each other’s mouths and gripping hair and skin that’s sure to leave a bruise tomorrow, until you feel him finally pull away for a second. You catch your breath, open-mouthed and heaving, eyes locked.

“‘M only gonna ask this once, kid,” he breathes, leaving another hot kiss on your neck, which makes you spread your legs further open with instinct. “Y’sure you want this? ‘Cause there’s no going back.”

You nod in that way you always have with him, telling him everything with no words at all. 

“That’s my girl,” he breathes against your neck, and you feel him bite down into the soft skin of the flesh there. You yell out, but it turns into a moan when Rafe licks his tongue over the wound. “That’s just so you can remember this night, okay baby?” You look back up at him, wet eyes, swollen lips, and flushed, sweaty skin. 

“Thank you, daddy.” He smiles, because you’re in for it now.

“You’re welcome, kid. Shit,” he breathes out, “I knew you’d like it, little freak.” He starts with more hot kisses, all the way down your neck, down your sternum, and stopping to press a kiss to each side of your ribs, before continuing down to your stomach. You whine from your position below him, one huge hand holding your hip in place and the other tracing the pattern of the kisses down, until he finally reaches where you want him to be.

“Gotta be quiet, kid, everyone’s home. You gonna let them all hear how much of a whore you are for me? Huh?” he mocks, and you shake your head fervently. “Good girl. You’re being so good, you’re gonna get a treat, okay?” You nod stupidly.

His breath catches for a second, when he gets down to your glistening cunt. He looks up at you from his position there, your chest heaving, tits bouncing with how much you’re squirming, how much you want him to do something. He moves his hands, one resting on your breast, pinching the nipple with his finger, and the other running a line down your pussy. Your whole body twitches up when he runs the metal of his ring over your clit, because he knows you really like it. 

“Rafe, please,” you cry, sounding stupid and fucked out, even though he hasn’t started yet. “Please, please,” and your hips jerk up. He pushes them down. 

“Be patient, kid. Gotta admire this virgin pussy for the last time before I ruin it, ‘kay?” You feel your walls tighten at his words, and you hope he missed the way everything just clenched, but it’s Rafe, and he didn’t miss a thing. “Like that, huh? You like being my little slut?”

You shake your head, trying to deny it, but the damage is done.

Rafe dives in, and you let out a moan that you didn’t realize you were capable of producing. You clamp your own hand over your mouth, because you know he’ll stop if you get too loud. His tongue licks you up and down, and true to what you had always thought, he does know what he’s doing.

The hand pinching your nipples doesn’t relent, and the weight of his arm holds you down when you buck up as he pushes two fingers inside you, scissoring them to stretch your walls out. It hurts, in the best way, and before you know it, he’s added a third.

His mouth stays focused on your clit, and your legs tremble, even though it’s barely been a few minutes. It’s all of it, all at once. Being naked in Rafe’s bed, his hand groping your tits, the way he holds you down without trying, the smell of his cologne and his skin and his sweat, making you lightheaded.

His fingers push in and out, and when he hits that sweet spot inside you, the one your own fingers have never been able to reach but somehow, Rafe’s have become well acquainted with, you can’t help the noises you make.

You repeat his name over and over again, and you think you’ve felt the height of this pleasure, that nothing could surpass this feeling, until your stomach tightens in an entirely new way. Your fucked out brain gets it together for a minute, to feel the overwhelming, ecstatic pressure of Rafe’s tongue on your clit, spelling out his own name. Your stomach tightens, unbearably so, that coil winding up, but before he even finishes the F, it snaps all at once. 

You let out a scream—which you think is so stupid of you. But it feels so good, there was no way around it. Rafe reacts instantly, grabbing your hand that’s pulling his hair and using it to snap over your mouth, all while he rides you through it. 

His nose presses against your clit while he slides his fingers out, your pussy walls clamping around nothing, missing him already. He laps up the mess you just made with his tongue, the noise being so overwhelming, you want to scream again. 

You use your other hand to yank his hair, pulling him up to look at you, because you know you want to see this. Rafe, your Rafe, your boyfriend, with blown, wide eyes and the entire lower half of his face glistening with your juices, with the mess you just made, and then you collapse back down onto the bed. 

Your breathing is heavy. You aren’t sure it’ll ever go back to normal.

Rafe pulls his shirt off by grabbing it from the back, yanking it over his head. Your hand floats up to

touch his chest, to make sure he’s still real and not just a vivid sex dream, but he slaps it out of the way.

“What did I say, hm?” he asks, leaning over you. His face is just an inch too far to kiss. Your limbs feel numb, and you can’t pull him down yourself. You want to cry, because you want to kiss him so badly. “I said you had to be quiet, or everyone’s gonna know what a little whore you are.”

“I tried, daddy, I did-”

“I don’t think you tried at all, kid.”

“No, I did, I swear-”

“You’re lucky that I-” and before he finishes his sentence, you pull him down into another kiss. He tastes like you and scotch, and the combination is so intoxicating, you can’t pull away. “Hey, hey,” he breathes. “I’m not going anywhere, okay?” and the soothing way he says it, you believe him.

“I’m lucky that you what?” you ask, unbuckling his belt and snaking it off the loops.

“That I love you, and I’m not gonna punish you tonight for not listening to me.” You drop the belt over your stomach, the melt part hitting with a little clink. You look back up at him, your eyes wide, you imagine, your cheeks flushed. 

“You love me?” you ask, quietly. You can barely hear yourself over the thud of your heart pounding in your chest.

“I do,” Rafe replies, running his hand to smooth over your hair, which you’re sure is a mess now. “Enough that I’m gonna fuck you now, but I had to say it first, because I’m gonna fuck you until you break.”

You’re speechless, watching Rafe unbutton his pants and kick them off, boxers going with them. He strokes himself once, twice, and you’re still staring up at his face, even though normally you would get distracted. 

He looks up again. 

“You ready, kid?” 

“I love you, Rafey,” you say, twisting your hands around to the back of his neck, pushing him into yet another kiss. You can’t pull away, even if you want to, you want him so close that you forget everything else in the world for now. While you’re kissing, he lines himself up with your leaking pussy, which has probably ruined these sheets, and pushes in the tip.

You pull back from the kiss, just to moan, but Rafe silences you with his mouth again. He pushes in more, and more, until you’re sure he’s bottomed out. Your cunt is so, so stretched, you can’t fathom this is what you’ve been missing out on, and it feels so good, like nothing has ever felt before, not his fingers, not his tongue, not any other part of him. 

“That’s halfway, kid, you doin’ okay?” and your eyes jolt up to his in a second.

“H-half?” you breathe out. “I can’t, I can’t take any more, s’not gonna fit Rafe, not gonna fit-”

“Hey,” he repeats, which always has that calming effect on you. “You let me worry about that, okay? Just relax this pussy f’me, okay?” and the way he says it, you do, because you have no other choice. He pushes in again, fast, hard, and then pulls all the way out. You’re too scared to look anywhere but his eyes, so you stay locked in on them, until he pushes all the way in again, and your eyes clasp shut.

“Oh, oh my god, Rafe-” And you don’t care who hears you this time. He pulls out again, just his lip still inside you.

“Look, princess, look down,” he urges, and you follow his instructions, because you always do. “Look where we’re connected, yeah?” He fucks in and out of you, slowly but then faster, and you do look, entranced at the way your pussy sucks him in, the way your cum is coating his dick, at the brutal pace he’s set. 

You look until you can’t anymore, leaning back against the pillow and watching Rafe above you, his face twisted in pleasure, eyebrows furrowed, mouth panting. He buries his face into your neck, and you grip the top of his shoulders, nails digging in, because you just need to hold onto something.

He told the truth, you think, in your fucked out, blissful state, that he was going to fuck you like he hated you, battering into your sore pussy over and over again. 

You repeat his name—daddy, not Rafe—until he shuts you up with a kiss, and he watches the strings of spit connecting your mouths when he pulls away.

“Just needed this dick, didn’ya princess? Just needed daddy to think for ya?” You moan in reply. “You got it then, kid, because m’never gonna stop fucking you. Y’never gonna think about anything else again.”

And then he finally does you in, because he presses down, right below your stomach, while he slams in, and you feel something inside you break, like a flood breaking through a dam. It washes out to every part of you, from your ears to your fingers to your toes. White hot pleasure runs its course through your body, cunt tightening and shaking, eyes rolling back, your spine arching forward. Through all of it, Rafe pins you down, and fucks you through it. And finally, deliriously, you open your fucked-out eyes, looking up at him.

“I love you, daddy,” and he cums before he can even pull out, messy rivulets shooting inside you, leaking out onto his expensive sheets. He moans into your neck, and his entire body slumps forward, and you giggle under the weight.

A few minutes pass by.

“Rafey, you’re gonna crush me,” you say quietly, sing-songy. You’re so happy, you’ve forgotten everything else that’s happened.

Rafe presses a kiss to your forehead and rolls off, slumping next to you. Your head lands on his chest not a second later, his arm around your shoulder and another kiss to your hair.

“Feel better, kid?” 

“So much better, Rafey.” 

You don’t know when you fall asleep, only that you woke up to the sound of your phone going on. You pick it up, trying to turn down the light so Rafe doesn’t wake up too. There’s one message.

JJ: I thought you said you weren’t gonna sleep with him?

౨ৎ

[samaraxmorgan]

Your Roommate Sukuna

“That Time We Went To The County Fair”

Modern no curse AU, Sukuna X Reader

Synopsis: This housing crisis sure is no joke huh? Rent is just too expensive to live alone, so you put out a listing for a roommate and ended up living with none other than the tattooed bad boy Ryomen Sukuna! This is part of a series of drabbles and oneshots showing glimpses into you and Sukuna’s living situation!!

Contains: pure fluff, frenemies dynamic, emetophobics be cautious (no one actually gets sick it’s just mentioned), Sukuna is trying so hard to be nice

Word Count: 2.89k

Series Masterlist - My Full Masterlist

Sukuna always tries to give off the vibe that he’s too big and bad for anything. Everything is beneath him, everyone is merely a nuisance, and this Ferris wheel in particular is just too bland and boring for his tastes.

He acts like you held a gun to his head and forced him to come with you to the fair, but you really didn’t; if anything he forced you to let him tag along. You just happened to see a flyer in the mailbox and brought up that you were planning to go and he could tag along if he wanted to, the last thing you expected was for him to immediately start lacing up his boots and stuff his wallet into the pocket of his ripped black jeans, asking you a nonchalant “You ready?” not even a minute after you suggested it.

And now here you are, a decent train ride later and you’re at the top of the Ferris wheel sitting across from each other, looking down at the colorful lights of food stalls and amusement rides below you. You wanted to go on the Ferris wheel first since the sun is beginning to set, the sky turning shades of pink and orange as a gentle breeze chills the evening air.

Sukuna’s gruff and uninterested voice breaks the peaceful silence, “You could’ve looked out the window at home for free.”

You’re scooted to the edge of your little cart, elbows perched on the rusty metal railing and your cheek rested on your palm, looking longingly between the colorful lights of the roller coasters down below and the changing hues of the sky, “The view’s not this pretty at home.”

All he can respond with is a hum, his arms stretched out across the railing behind him as he leans his back against the hard metal wall of the gently swinging cart. From the corner of your eye you’d swear you could see him watching you, but when you shift your gaze towards him his head has already turned to look down towards the carnival beneath you.

He outstretches his arm and points toward one of the rides, colorful lights spotted around the outside of its spaceship style design begin to transform into streams of light as the ride starts to spin and twirl around, “We’re doing that one next, too fuckin’ boring just sitting around.”

You turn your body towards him and give him a sarcastic grin, “What if all the spinning makes me sick?”

He scoffs, gently kicking your leg across from him with his combat boot, “If you throw up I’m pretending that I don’t know you.”

“Boo.” You roll your eyes at him and look back towards the fair as the Ferris wheel begins to spin. You reach your arm out of the cart and point at a ride in the distance, a large boat shaped contraption swinging back and forth before turning completely upside down, the passengers' screams echoing through the open air, “Would you go on that one?”

He gives you a sly grin, “Only if you go on it too, you didn't drag me along just to watch, did you?”

“I didn’t drag you here, you might as well have begged to come with me.”

“Oh fuckin’ please,” He leans towards you, propping his elbows on his knees and looking up at you, “You gave me those ‘lil puppy dog eyes when you showed me the flyer.” He mimics a dramatic pout, making you groan and press your sneaker onto his chest to push him away.

“You’re unbearable.”

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

The metal steps creak below both of your feet as you and Sukuna step into the spaceship ride; the walls are round and covered in separate metal panels for each person to stand with their back against, and in the middle of the ride there’s a booth for the operator with large buttons and levers. You and Sukuna find two open panels on the wall and stand in front of them as the doors to the ride slide shut, leaving you both and everyone else blocked off from the festivities going on outside.

The operator looks bored as they flip a switch above their head, the lights dying off before you hear the clicking sound of buttons being pushed, rainbow lights streaming along the ceiling in swirling patterns above your head. Blaring loud techno music starts to blast from massive speakers in the operator’s booth as you feel your balance start to waver. Within seconds everyone’s backs are slammed into the wall, fits of giggles and startled screams surrounding you in the ride.

You turn your head to look at Sukuna and he’s already grinning at you, he tries to yell something to you but the music is far too loud to hear him. You open your mouth to yell “What?!” but instead a yelp is ripped from your chest as your entire body slides up the wall. He points up towards you and laughs, you try to kick him in the shoulder but the pressure of the ride spinning is keeping you effectively plastered to the wall, hardly able to move at all.

Sukuna, on the other hand, is somehow barely affected by it; deciding that it’s time to show off as he plants his palms onto the wall behind him and bends his knees to be completely off the ground. He stumbles back slightly on his first attempt to push himself up, but by the second try he’s crouching completely upright on the wall.

“What the hell are you doing?!” You scream out to him, but he can hardly hear you over the loud music and playful screams of everyone on the ride.

He’s got a massive grin plastered on his face as he stands to his full height so casually, as if the pressure of gravity just doesn’t affect him, taking a broad step over your stiff body to stand with his large combat boots on either side of your hips. He takes a knee over you, wrapping one of his hands around the back of your neck and the other behind the small of your back, leaning forward and yelling into your ear.

“You’re coming with me.”

It feels like you’re going to fly back into the wall as he pulls you into his arms, his strong grip keeping your body flush against his as you try to raise your arms enough to wrap them around his neck.

“You’re insane! Put me down!”

You can feel his breathy laughter on the crook of your neck as he lifts you up to stand with him on the wall, his hands never loosening their protective grip on you even as your feet plant themselves on the wall. He’s holding you so close, you’re not sure if your head is spinning more from him or the carnival ride. Your arms are wrapped tightly around his neck, your head pressed flush against his broad chest and tilted up towards the flickering lights adorning the ceiling.

“Not so bad, see?” You can hear the grin in his voice, his lips brushing against your ear while he speaks to you, “Not gonna drop you, calm down.”

Can he feel how fast my heart is beating?

The pressure in your head starts to feel relieved, but at the cost of your balance as you stumble forward. Sukuna completely wraps his arm around your waist and lifts you off your feet, taking long strides backwards off the wall and back onto the floor as the ride slows to a gradual stop.

“Hey!” The operator is screaming over the music as the large doors slide back open, “You two! Off!”

Sukuna chuckles into your ear as he drops you onto your feet, “Oops.”

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

“I can’t take you anywhere-“

“Ugh, how was I supposed to know that guy would be such a pussy?”

“Sukuna!” You slap his arm, “You’re gonna get us kicked out!”

He just huffs and rolls his eyes, his arms crossed over his chest as you both walk side by side through the fair. You knew he was nothing but trouble, and you feel a little stupid for assuming he wouldn’t drag you down into his bullshit with him, but you’re stuck with him now; at least until your lease is up. Maybe you shouldn’t invite him out with you anywhere after this, but when you glance up at his stupid grumpy expression you get butterflies.

With a face like that it’s no wonder he gets away with anything.

He’s so… annoying. That’s what you like to tell yourself; it’s annoying that you can’t stay mad at him, that he gives you that smirk that makes your heart race, that he held you like that on the carnival ride. He drives you insane in all the best and worst ways, either waking you up in the middle of the night by being loud and obnoxious coming home drunk from a concert, or making you go crazy wishing he was home with you while he was out with his friends.

“Are you even fuckin’ listening?” He snaps you out of your trance.

“No.” You huff, breaking your gaze from his. Did you doze off while staring at him?

“Brat,” He wraps his fingers around your wrist and pulls you towards a pop up stall, the stall walls lined with balloons and stuffed animals, “You beat me in this and I’ll… behave for the next one.”

You scoff at him, “No you won’t.”

A small smile creeps onto the corners of his lips, “… Yeah you’re right.” You roll your eyes and turn away from him, but he sidesteps in front of you, leaning down to match your height, “Tell you what, let’s make a bet.”

“That’s a terrible idea.”

He smirks, “Winner picks out a tattoo for the loser.”

You laugh right in his face, “Absolutely fucking not!”

“What?” He gives you an exaggerated pout, “You don’t trust me?”

You cross your arms and glare up at him, “You would make me get some kind of gang tattoo.” You say sarcastically.

He mutters under his breath, “Shit, am I that predictable?”

“Sukuna!” You kick him in the shin.

“Fine, fine. Piercing.”

You look over at the plastic machine guns mounted onto the edge of the stall, noting a toppled over “out of order” sign next to the red gun. Maybe it’s a bad idea to humor him, but you know damn well he’d pick that red gun over the baby pink ones surrounding it, you might be able to play dirty if he hasn’t noticed the sign that fell over.

A grin paints your lips as you look back at him, “You’re on.”

His head cocks to the side slightly, “Really?” He looks genuinely surprised, but definitely not disappointed, “Shit, that was easy.”

He strides over to the stall, planting himself right in front of the red gun, exactly where you want him. You suppress your smile as much as you can as you walk up beside him, wrapping your finger around the trigger of the pink gun next to him. He’s looking down at you so cocky as the game attendant counts down for you both to start.

“Three!”

“You know…” He leans down towards you to speak into your ear.

“Two!”

“I know a guy who does eyelid piercings.” He states smugly.

“One!”

Like clockwork, you start peppering through the balloons while his gun immediately jams.

His brows furrow in frustration and you look towards him, giving him a mischievous smirk, “You’ll have to give me his number.”

As the game comes to a fast end, you learn that Sukuna is such a sore loser, grumbling about how that was “fucking rigged” and that you’re “a dirty little cheater,” but you couldn’t wipe the smile off your face if you tried. You doubt he’ll hold up his end of the bet, and you’re not really that concerned about it to be honest, that frustrated look on his face is more than enough of a prize.

“Yeah yeah,” You giggle, “I’m just the worst huh? I’m gonna run to the bathroom, how about you win me something while I’m gone?”

He shoots a glare down at you, “No promises.”

“Oh yeah, because you fucking suck at these games, right?” Your bottom lip is caught between your teeth in a futile attempt to keep a straight face, you just can’t help but smile, it’s a nice change of pace for you to be the one getting on his nerves for once.

“Such a fuckin’ brat.”

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

Something about Sukuna is suspicious when you meet him back at the games. His grin has returned once again and he’s holding one of his hands behind his back. His eyes light up when they catch yours, taking long strides to meet with you.

He leans down to be eye level with you, keeping his hand tucked away behind him, “Close your eyes.”

“You didn’t…” You look up to his eyes but his gaze flickers away from you.

“Shut up. Close your eyes and give me your hand.”

You let out a sigh, shutting your eyes and holding your hand out in front of you. Your brows furrow in confusion as something cold and squishy lands in your palm, “What the fuck…?”

“You know how you said you wanted a pet?”

You open your eyes and are greeted with… a goldfish. A little tied off plastic baggie dripping condensation onto your skin as the tiny fish swims in panicked circles, “Sukuna!”

“What?” He stands up straight, stuffing his hands into his pockets, “I thought you’d like it.”

“When I said I wanted a pet I meant, like, a dog!”

He nonchalantly shrugs his shoulders, “Well you won’t let me get a cane corso, so-“

“Because they’re a hundred and fifty pounds.” You mutter over him.

“Say hello to Brat Junior.”

“Oh you’ve got to be kidding me.”

He’s definitely not kidding if the grin on his face is saying anything, he takes a step forward and pokes the bag, watching the fish squirm inside, “He’s got your attitude.”

“Oh my god,” You rub your temple with your free hand, “We need to go get a fish tank.”

“We’ve got bowls at the house.”

“No! We are not mistreating this fish, asshole.”

“Don’t call him fish, he has a name.” He declares sarcastically, crossing his arms over his chest.

You mutter curses under your breath, “Brat Junior needs a tank. A real tank, with a filter.” You pull Sukuna by the sleeve of his shirt, dragging him along behind you, “There’s a pet store around the corner, let’s go before they close. And you’re paying.”

“Hey, why am I paying for this shit? It’s your pet.”

“It was your stupid idea!”

You both leave the loud chaos of the fair, walking along the quiet sidewalks to the pet store. The skies have gone dark now, the moon making itself at home above you as you cradle your beloved Brat Junior in both of your palms, trying to keep the water in his bag from swaying too much.

You and Sukuna bicker the whole walk there until you make it to the sliding glass doors of the pet store, quiet music playing through the speakers as you walk across the shiny white floors to the fish section. You both split up so he can pick up a tank while you sort through food, but shortly after he walked away he’s already making his way back to you.

“We’re gonna have to flush Brat Junior.” He says plainly.

You defensively clutch the fish close to your chest, “Absolutely not!”

He rests his elbow on one of the shelves lining the wall, leaning his side against it, “Then you’re paying for half of the fish tank.”

Your brows furrow in confusion, “You broke now?”

“Lady at the counter said he’ll get,” He straightens his fingers on each hand, placing them together like a prayer before parting them about a foot away from each other, “This big.”

“Are you fucking serious?”

“I wish I was joking, the tank is $600.”

You blow a raspberry, slumping your back against the wall and looking down at the goldfish in your palms. You’re silent for a moment, but then you let out a reluctant sigh, “I’ll pay half, but you’re carrying it on the train ride home.”

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

You hold your apartment door open, watching Sukuna maneuver the giant 40 gallon fish tank through the small doorway, “Got it?”

He grunts in annoyance, “A little help would be nice.”

“Ooh, about that,” You hold the little plastic baggie up in your palm, “My hands are full with the baby.”

He blows his bangs out of his eyes, carrying the fish tank into the tiny apartment, “Should’ve fuckin’ flushed him.”

You let out a mock gasp, cupping the goldfish in both of your hands and holding it up to your face, cooing at it, “Did you hear that? Your father doesn’t love you.”

Sukuna placed the tank onto a long empty table against the wall before flopping on his back onto the couch. His eyes flicker between you and the fish for a moment, a faint smile creeping onto his lips.

“I knew you’d like that little fucker.”

A/N: Fun fact did u know that those fair fish grow to be 12 inches long? Unfortunately this fic is based on true events of when my boyfriend and I won TWO OF THEM at the fair and had to spend $600 on a fish tank for them (rip my wallet). Dividers by @adornedwithlight

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