#now i’m trying decide which one shot i should write next

[hellobykittys]

𝐒𝐇𝐘 𝐁𝐎𝐘 ✦ 𝐎𝐏⁸¹

SUMMARY: You are Lando Norris’ twin sister and were completely obsessed with your brother’s teammate, but he was always avoiding you. NOTES: English is not my first language, so there might be some writing mistakes. I apologize for that, and feel free to point out any improvements. PAIRING: Oscar Piastri x Reader! Lando Norris’ Sister. WARNING: Hot scenes, but not explicit; use of Y/N; Oscar is very shy. WC: 4.7k

MASTERLIST | THE (IM)PERFECT PLAN SERIE

“You need to go a little easier on him,” Lando said as soon as he entered the small room, throwing his backpack onto the chair with a tired sigh. “Oscar’s shy, and you’re scaring the poor guy to death.”

You, leaning against the desk with your legs crossed and your eyes glued to your phone, ignored the first part of the comment. But the last part caught your attention.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you replied, feigning disinterest.

“Oh, come on, don’t act dumb,” Lando shot back, crossing his arms with a smirk. “You’re cornering Oscar. I was going to let it slide because, honestly, it’s hilarious. But look, you’re going too far, and he clearly doesn’t know how to handle it.”

You realized denying it would be pointless. Lando knew exactly what you were doing, and probably the whole paddock did too. Maybe it was time to turn the tables in your favor.

“Did he complain about me?” you asked, now genuinely curious, a mischievous smile tugging at your lips. “Because, seriously, I don’t get it. Sometimes it seems like he doesn’t care, but then, in the next minute, he acts like I’m the personification of chaos.”

Your voice carried a touch of frustration. Ever since you met Oscar last season, you had done everything to get his attention. Flirting, glances, little touches. But he always pulled away or acted like he didn’t notice. His shyness, which once seemed charming, was now starting to feel like an impenetrable barrier.

Lando laughed, clearly enjoying himself at your expense. “You know what’s funny? You think you can melt anyone with that smile and some games. But let me tell you, Oscar’s different. He’s more… reserved.”

“I know that,” you shot back, crossing your arms. “And that’s exactly why I’m trying harder. He’s not like the others. It just makes it more interesting.”

Lando shook his head, incredulous. “You’re impossible, you know that? But look, if you keep this up, he’s gonna start running away from you. Like, literally. One day, he’s gonna abandon the car in the middle of the track just to escape.”

You laughed. “He already runs, just in a way less obvious than that. But he’ll get used to it. It’s just a matter of time.”

“Or a restraining order.”

“Funny,” you replied, giving him a sharp look.

After a brief silence, you decided to change tactics. “You could help me out!” you asked, in an exaggeratedly sweet tone.

“No way. Stay out of this, Y/N,” Lando responded quickly, as if he already knew where this was going.

“You’re so heartless!” you retorted, with a theatrical touch. “I come every weekend to support you, and this is how I’m treated? You should, I don’t know, compensate me for always being by your side.”

“Support? You’re kidding, right?” Lando laughed. “The whole team already figured out why you’re always here. And the only person who might not have noticed is Oscar himself.”

“What slander!” you snapped, placing a hand on your chest as if deeply offended. “I come because I like my brother. And I thought he liked me too, but apparently, he doesn’t care enough to help me with something so simple.”

Lando just laughed and raised his hands in surrender. “Alright, alright. What exactly do you want me to do?”

“Simple. Find out if he likes me or not. Easy, right?”

Before you could continue the discussion, someone knocked on the door, interrupting the conversation.

“Come in!” Lando replied casually.

The door opened to reveal Oscar. Your excitement was immediate. He, on the other hand… didn’t seem as thrilled to see you.

“I didn’t know your sister was here,” he said to Lando, hesitantly. “I didn’t want to interrupt. I’ll come back later.”

Before he could leave, you rushed to his side and lightly placed your hand on his arm, still covered by his racing suit.

“You don’t have to leave, Osc,” you said softly, your fingers purposely brushing against the fabric of his suit. “Lando and I weren’t talking about anything important. Feel free to stay.”

Oscar hesitated but eventually gave in. “Alright, if you say so…”

Oscar tried to pull away from your touch without being rude, and you, noticing his discomfort, decided to ease the tension and let him slip away.

“Well… I just wanted to ask about the car adjustments for tomorrow. But I guess I interrupted something…” He seemed genuinely uncomfortable, which only made you want to tease him even more.

“You didn’t interrupt anything,” you replied with a calm smile. “Actually, I’ll just sit here quietly while you two chat.”

With that, you sat down in a chair lost in the room, pretending to fiddle with your phone while you took the opportunity to observe Oscar. The way he spoke, gestured, or even furrowed his brow when something seemed confusing… it was fascinating.

The two of them spent a few minutes discussing technical adjustments for the car when they were interrupted again. This time, it was someone from the PR team, rushing in to inform Lando that they needed him for an urgent photo session.

“I’m on my way,” Lando said, standing up. But before leaving, he gave you a calculated look. “Oscar, can you stay here? Y/N was feeling a bit nauseous earlier, and I didn’t want her to be alone.”

Your heart skipped a beat. It was obvious he was making it up, but the feigned concern in his voice was flawless. You knew you owed Lando a big favor now, but it was worth it. For Oscar, everything was worth it.

“Seriously?” Oscar looked visibly surprised, casting a suspicious glance from you to Lando. “Alright, if she needs anything…”

“Thanks a lot, buddy,” Lando replied with a mischievous smile, giving Oscar’s arm a friendly squeeze before walking toward the door. “I’ll be back soon. Wait for me here.”

As soon as the door closed, you jumped up and practically ran to the couch, pulling Oscar down to sit next to you before he could even react.

“Thanks so much for staying, Osc,” you said softly, as if you were truly vulnerable. “I wasn’t feeling too great, you know?”

Oscar tensed next to you, clearly uncomfortable. He looked around, as if searching for an escape route. “Is everything okay now? Do you want me to get some water or something?”

“No, no, it’s fine, it’s passed,” you replied, placing your hand on his arm. “I just needed some company. I feel better this way.”

Oscar let out a nervous, short laugh and looked away, clearly trying not to acknowledge the closeness between you two.

“You look cute when you’re nervous, you know?” you remarked, a mischievous smile appearing on your face.

He opened his mouth to respond but seemed to lose his words. Finally, he muttered, “I’m… not nervous.”

“Oh, really?” you teased, leaning in a little closer, until there was almost no space left between you on the small couch. Oscar seemed even more restless, the blush on his face now impossible to hide.

“I think… we don’t need to be this close,” he managed to say, awkwardly trying to pull away. But, poor thing, there was nowhere left to escape.

“Osc,” you started, in a fake hurt tone, looking down at your hands. “I think you don’t like me very much.”

He seemed surprised, the tension in his shoulders easing for a moment. “Why would you think that?”

“Because every time I’m around, you try to get away.” Your voice sounded almost like a lament, and you took the opportunity to glance at him before looking down at your legs. “Did I do something to you?”

When you looked back at him, your face was perfectly molded into a sad expression, your eyes slightly glistening, as if you were truly upset. It was almost impossible not to believe it.

Oscar hesitated, looking genuinely puzzled. “No… of course not. It’s just that…” He stopped, clearly trying to find the right words.

“It’s just that…?” you encouraged, tilting your head.

“You’re… too intense, Y/N,” he finally confessed, his voice low. “I don’t know how to handle you, that’s all.”

A triumphant smile threatened to appear on your lips, but you held it back, keeping up the act. “Intense? I just… like being around you, you know? Is that really so hard?”

Oscar rubbed the back of his neck, visibly uncomfortable. “It’s not that. I’m just not used to… attention.”

“So, you’re saying I make you uncomfortable?” you asked, leaning slightly toward him, closing the space even more.

Oscar looked away, his ears turning even redder. “I didn’t say that.”

“Then what are you saying?”

Before he could answer, the door suddenly opened, and Lando walked into the room with that typical mischievous smile you knew so well. “Did I interrupt something?”

Oscar practically jumped off the couch, creating visible distance between you two. It was almost comical, but at that moment, you could only curse your brother. He had ruined the perfect moment. You were so close to getting what you wanted!

“No, no,” Oscar quickly denied, the words tumbling out almost in a rush. “Now that you’re here, I… I think I’ll head out. See you before the next practice.”

And without giving anyone a chance to react, he practically bolted out of the room, as if running away from a fire.

You let out a loud sigh, crossing your arms and shooting a deadly glare at Lando, who was still standing in the doorway, clearly enjoying your discomfort.

“You did that on purpose!” you accused, frustration clear in your voice.

“Me? No way,” Lando responded, feigning innocence as he closed the door behind him. “But you should’ve seen his face. Poor guy, he looked like he was going to pass out.”

“He wasn’t going to pass out!” you retorted, throwing a pillow toward your brother, who easily dodged it.

“Alright, alright. But seriously, Y/N, you’re being way too hard on the guy.” He threw himself onto the couch, taking the spot Oscar had just vacated. “Don’t you think he’s nervous enough already? Every time you get close, it’s like he forgets how to breathe.”

You huffed, sinking into the couch next to him. “Maybe he just needs to get used to me. It’s not that hard, right?”

Lando raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. “For you, maybe. But for him? Oscar is… different. He’s not used to someone like you.”

“Someone like me?” you repeated, intrigued.

“You know,” Lando explained, gesturing vaguely. “Someone who’s not afraid to say what they want and go after it. Oscar’s more… reserved. Doesn’t mean he doesn’t like you, he just doesn’t know how to react.”

You were silent for a moment, processing Lando’s words. Maybe he was right. Maybe Oscar just needed a little more time. But giving up wasn’t an option. Not now.

“Okay,” you finally said, a mischievous smile appearing on your lips. “I’ll go easy on him. For now.”

Lando laughed, clearly amused by your determination. “Good luck, sis. You’re going to need it.”

The next day, you positioned yourself strategically in the garage, waiting for the right moment to find Oscar. When he finally appeared, talking to one of the engineers, you calmly walked over with a relaxed smile, pretending you had no agenda in mind.

“Hey, Osc,” you greeted, your voice light and carefree. “How’s everything after yesterday? You seemed in a rush.”

Oscar turned to you, and it was almost funny how hard he tried to appear casual, even though he was clearly uncomfortable. “Oh, yeah… I was just running late for something.”

“Of course, of course,” you responded with a soft smile. “Well, I hope things are calmer now. Maybe we can chat after qualifying?”

He hesitated, shooting a near-pleading glance at the engineer beside him, as if he was hoping they could save him. But this time, something different sparkled in Oscar’s eyes. It wasn’t fear or discomfort. It was curiosity, though still shy.

“Yeah… maybe,” he finally replied, his voice softer than usual.

You smiled, already considering that a small victory.

Unfortunately, finding Oscar after qualifying turned out to be impossible. Lando secured pole position, and you stayed to congratulate him, while Oscar, with a disappointing P5, was swept into endless conversations with engineers and mechanics.

By the time it was late, almost time to head back to the hotel, you went to Lando’s room to grab your things while he wrapped up the last commitment of the day. That’s when fate decided to be kind.

The door next to your brother’s room opened, and who stepped out but the exact person you’d been hoping to see.

“Osc!” you called out cheerfully, a bright smile on your face.

“Hey.” His response was much less enthusiastic. The tone of defeat and frustrated expression clearly showed that he was still upset about the qualifying result.

“Bummed about P5?” you asked, trying to start a conversation.

“It wasn’t what I expected,” he admitted, crossing his arms. “But I’ll make up for it tomorrow.” There was a forced confidence in his voice that you didn’t miss.

“I’m sure you will! And look, I’m calling the podium: Lando in first, and you in second. What do you think?”

You stepped a little closer, almost unintentionally, trying to minimize the distance between you. But for Oscar, there was nothing subtle about your approach. He clearly noticed.

“You’re optimistic,” he commented, trying to ignore how you seemed to invade his space without hesitation.

“I’m not optimistic, I’m realistic,” you shot back, a mischievous smile playing on your lips.

Oscar looked away, clearly looking for an escape route, but you weren’t about to let him slip away so easily.

“Look, Osc,” you began, your tone softening as you leaned in slightly. “I really think you underestimate how good you are at what you do. You’ve got everything to be at the top. You just need to believe in yourself more.”

He blinked, clearly caught off guard by your change in tone. You saw the tension in his shoulders ease slightly, and that was enough for you to close the gap just a little more, your smile now sweeter than mischievous.

“You really think so?” he asked, his voice low, almost hesitant.

“I know it,” you replied, sincerity shining through.

Oscar still seemed hesitant, but he didn’t pull away when you placed a light hand on his arm, your fingers resting casually. “You just need to learn to relax more. Maybe I can help with that,” you said, your voice almost a whisper.

Oscar swallowed, his eyes finally meeting yours. For a moment, you thought he was going to give in. He seemed torn between wanting to escape and something he clearly didn’t want to admit. You leaned in a little closer, feeling you were on the edge of success.

“You’re really hard, you know?” he murmured, the words practically floating between you two.

Oscar opened his mouth to respond, but no words came out. And just as you were about to close the distance even more, he took a step back, almost stumbling into the wall behind him.

“I… I need to go,” he said quickly, his voice shaky but firm. “Good night, Y/N.”

Before you could react, he was already halfway down the hallway, walking so fast it was almost a run.

You let out a frustrated sigh, but deep down, you couldn’t help but smile. Little by little, Oscar was starting to give in, even if he still resisted at the last second. It was only a matter of time.

And you knew very well that you had all the patience in the world to wait.

The paddock was a well-organized chaos, with mechanics, engineers, and drivers moving around frantically as the grandstands filled with enthusiastic fans. You, of course, were there, strategically positioned in Oscar’s team’s garage, pretending to be just casually walking around but with a very clear goal in mind.

He was there, adjusting his gloves while listening carefully to an engineer. He seemed so focused, he could have blended in with the rest of the team. Almost. You, however, always managed to spot him in the crowd.

“Hey, Osc!” you called, walking into the space without any hesitation.

Oscar quickly turned, his eyes widening slightly when he saw you there. “Y/N? What are you doing here?”

“I came to wish you good luck, of course,” you answered with a sweet but mischievous smile.

“Good luck?” He seemed suspicious, clearly aware that you rarely did something that simple.

“Of course!” You tilted your head slightly, looking at him as if his question was absurd. “You know I’ll be cheering for you too, right? First Lando, and then you!”

Oscar opened his mouth to respond but closed it again, a blush already creeping up his face. He looked around desperately, almost as if hoping someone would save him from the situation. But, as you’d already noticed, no one was paying attention to you two.

“You’re kind of tense, Osc. It won’t go well like this, you know?” You stepped a little closer, lowering your voice slightly, but still clearly teasing. “Are you nervous because of me?”

“No,” he quickly replied, although his tone and the blush on his face said otherwise.

“Hmm… funny,” you murmured, pretending to think. “Because it seems like every time I get close, you get a little… uneasy.”

“Y/N, we’re in the pit… in public,” he whispered, almost as if trying to make you stop.

“So what? No one’s listening, and we’re not doing anything wrong, are we?” you shot back, a smile mixing sweetness and mischief on your lips. “I’m here to support you, Osc. And, speaking of that, I have a proposition for you.”

He squinted his eyes, clearly suspicious. “What kind of proposition?”

“If you get on the podium today… I’ll give you a special gift,” you said, leaning slightly toward him, your voice low but filled with mystery.

“What gift?” He looked at you, nervousness clear on his face, but at the same time, unable to hide his curiosity.

“It’s a surprise,” you replied, winking conspiratorially.

“Y/N…” He sighed, clearly trying to keep his composure. “You know you didn’t have to come here for that, right?”

“I know,” you answered, your smile growing wider. “But what’s the fun in cheering from a distance? Besides, you might not know, but I’m great at picking out gifts.”

Oscar seemed like he was about to say something, but one of the engineers appeared out of nowhere, calling him for the final pre-race meeting. He sighed in visible relief, almost grabbing the opportunity to escape.

“I have to go,” he said quickly.

“Good luck, Osc,” you replied, not hiding your satisfaction. “I’ll be waiting on the podium. And after the race… the gift is all yours.”

He didn’t reply, just nodded quickly before disappearing toward the engineer. You watched as he walked away, even more flushed than before, and let out a soft laugh.

This time, he had no way of backing out of the promise. And, knowing Oscar, the thought of a “special gift” would be enough to keep him thinking about you the whole time—on or off the track.

The end of the race was electrifying. You, as usual, were glued to the screen, following the final minutes with the anticipation of someone on the track. The last lap was a mix of tension and excitement. Lando crossed the finish line in first, and you couldn’t hold back your shout of joy. But what really made you jump out of your seat was when Oscar secured third place, holding off a fierce battle until the final flag.

“Yes! I knew you could do it, Osc!” you murmured to yourself, smiling proudly as you watched the celebration on the screen.

Soon, you were following the team toward the podium. The paddock was a party, with team members rushing to celebrate their drivers. You blended in with Lando’s engineers and mechanics but kept your eyes fixed on Oscar as he got out of the car, exhausted but visibly satisfied.

The celebration on the podium was contagious. Champagne flew from side to side, and Lando’s smile was so wide it seemed to light up the entire circuit. But your gaze never left Oscar, who looked more shy than ever as he raised his trophy. Even amid the celebration, he shot furtive glances at you in the crowd, which only made your smile grow.

As soon as the ceremony was over, everyone went back to the garage. The team was euphoric, celebrating the incredible result of the race. You found Lando first, who came running toward you with his trophy in hand.

“So, what did you think?” he asked, still sweaty and covered in champagne.

“You were amazing! Doesn’t even seem like my brother,” you joked, laughing as he hugged you and got champagne on your clothes.

“And Oscar, huh?” Lando commented, winking at you. “Are you proud of your favorite driver?”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t stop smiling. “Don’t start, Lando.”

After the initial excitement, you began preparing to leave. Lando had some team commitments to take care of before heading back to the hotel, so you walked through the paddock, waiting for him. You bumped into Oscar, who seemed more relaxed, still talking to a few engineers.

“Congrats, Osc!” you said, with a genuine smile.

He quickly turned his head, as if he hadn’t expected you to appear there. “Oh, thanks,” he replied, a shy smile forming on his lips.

“I told you’d make it to the podium. Now you know what that means, right?” you teased, leaning slightly forward.

Oscar turned bright red, looking away at anything that wasn’t you. “I… think so?”

“Great.” You winked and walked away before he could respond, knowing exactly the effect you were having.

After a while, Lando finally appeared. “Ready to go?”

“More than ready.” You smiled, following him to the car that would take you back to the hotel.

Back at the hotel, the exhaustion from the race still lingered, but the excitement pulsed even stronger. Lando was sprawled on the couch in his room, talking nonstop about the race and, of course, the party that was about to happen.

“I need to get ready. What, you’ve got about 30 minutes before I drag you to the party?” you teased, grabbing your bag.

“Thirty? You’re being way too optimistic,” he laughed. “You wouldn’t be able to get ready in 30 minutes even if Oscar asked you to.”

“Oh, Lando…” You smiled slyly as you walked toward the door. “For Oscar, I’d do it in fifteen.”

Lando’s expression was priceless, but you didn’t give him a chance to respond. You walked out laughing and went straight to your room, already imagining how you’d make the night unforgettable. After all, a P1 for Lando and a P3 for Oscar was more than enough reason to celebrate in style.

You chose a stunning black Versace dress, fitting just right, and paired it with high heels from the same brand. But the special touch was in the details that no one would see—or rather, that almost no one would see: a papaya-colored lingerie set, matching the team’s colors, chosen especially for the occasion.

The team had reserved a table in the VIP section of a luxurious club. The atmosphere was pure euphoria—champagne, loud music, and laughter filled the air. As soon as they arrived, you made sure to sit strategically next to Oscar, who seemed out of place, unsure of what to do with all the attention around him.

“Osc, relax,” you murmured in his ear, smiling as you noticed he seemed more nervous than he had been during the race.

“I’m relaxed,” he replied, but the hand holding his drink was trembling slightly.

The conversation flowed with the team, but you made sure to provoke Oscar in little moments. You brushed your leg against his, made comments about how well he did in the race, and, of course, mentioned the “special present.”

“If I knew a P3 would make you this happy, I would’ve tried harder earlier,” he joked, trying to appear more confident.

“Oh, Osc, you have no idea,” you replied, smiling with an enigmatic tone.

As time went by, more people started to drift away from the table to dance or talk in other corners. Before long, it was just the two of you. That was your cue.

“So, Osc…” You leaned in a little closer, the loud music muffling the conversation. “About my present… do you want to know what it is?”

Oscar blushed instantly, looking away as he always did when he felt uncomfortable. “I… I don’t think I should ask.”

“Oh, you definitely should.” Your voice dropped low, almost a whisper, as your eyes challenged his. “I did something special to celebrate your P3. And maybe to encourage you to get more podiums in the future.”

He swallowed nervously. “I need… to go to the bathroom,” he said quickly, standing up before you could react.

You smiled to yourself. “So predictable,” you murmured as you followed him with determined steps.

Oscar looked genuinely surprised when you appeared in the hallway, blocking his escape route. “Seriously, Y/N? I just wanted a minute of peace.”

“No chance.” You took a step forward, cornering him against the wall, a mischievous smile playing on your lips. “I followed you to show you my present.”

Oscar looked at you, clearly uncomfortable, but his curiosity won out. “I don’t know if I want to see that,” he said, trying to keep his voice steady, though the sparkle in his eyes betrayed his curiosity.

You laughed softly, almost amused, and slid the strap of your dress down, revealing a glimpse of the papaya lingerie, the color of the team. “See? Something special for my favorite driver.”

For a moment, Oscar was speechless, his face turning a deeper red than usual. But something seemed to have shifted in him, as if the provocation had awakened something. He took a step forward, closing the distance between you. The look he had now wasn’t shy, but challenging, almost provocative.

“You like to tease, don’t you?” His voice was low but filled with a newfound confidence that you didn’t expect. “But you know what, Y/N? You can’t last three minutes when the roles are reversed.”

The smile on his face made you hesitate for a second, and he immediately seized the opportunity. Without saying another word, he pulled you closer, his hands firmly gripping your waist. The warmth of his body against yours made your heart race, and before you could say anything, Oscar’s lips found yours.

It was an intense, heated kiss, as if he had been swept away by the wave of provocation you had started. Oscar's hands glided over your skin, as if memorizing every part of you, while you couldn't think clearly anymore.

When he pulled away slightly, his eyes glowing in a way you didn't recognize, you were speechless, your body still burning from his proximity and touch.

He leaned in again, whispering in your ear:

"Lost your voice, baby? Always knew you were just talk."

Your breathing was uneven, but you could only stare at him, completely lost.

He grinned to the side, satisfied with the effect he was having.

It didn't take long for him to attack you with even more intense kisses.

You were getting addicted to the taste, to the feeling of being touched by him.

One of his hands slid up your thigh, slowly rising inside your dress. He squeezed your butt firmly, and you couldn't contain a moan. He played with the waistband of your panties, starting to pull them down.

"What are you doing?" you asked, breathless. "Someone might see."

"Now you're afraid of being seen?" he continued, dragging the fabric down your leg. "You never cared before."

He knelt down, completely removing the piece of lingerie.

"But don't worry, baby!" He stood up, pressing his body against yours again.

"I'm not going to do anything here."

He kissed you quickly and pulled away, looking into your eyes while slipping the piece into his pocket.

"If you want it back, find me in my room later."

And just like that, he was gone, leaving you there, completely speechless and hungry for more.

[osarina]

ᡣ𐭩 HE'S THE SERPENTINE, HE'S MY COLLAR!

FEATURING: dazai osamu

SUMMARY: you're finally back in yokohama after spending three years abroad dealing with mori's foreign business. the last person you want is to see dazai osamu, the wounds of his abrupt betrayal still too fresh for comfort. unfortunately, he decides to take matters into his own hands by showing up at your office in the middle of the night.

(wordcount: 7.1k; ņsfw; fem!reader; port mafia executive!reader, f!receiving oral, gunplay, knife play (ish), spitting, pussy drunk!dazai (as always), light choking, overstim, office sex, semi-public/public sex, unprotected sex, switch!dazai, switch!reader, undertones of angst (happy ending). lmk if anything is missing!)

AUTHOR'S NOTES: guys. GUYS. i had so much fun writing this, this is finally usurping in paper rings and picture frames as my fav fic that i've written. HAHAHH. i hope you guys like it too!!

You hear the door to your office swing open, and you press your lips together tightly, irritation swimming through your head as your grip tightens on the pen you’re using to fill out your paperwork. It’s already late—you’re tired and your head hurts, but you can’t leave the building until Akutagawa comes to hand you the report for his failed mission so you can pass it up to the boss. And you know that whichever subordinate this is, it’s definitely not Akutagawa because the boy would rather claw his own throat out than walk into your office without knocking. 

Which means it’s some upstart new recruit who has no manners and is likely going to make your night worse. You think being away for so long did some real damage to your reputation—three years ago, the lower ranked mafiosos avoided your floor like the plague, they didn’t barge in like they owned the place, but then again, you also had a certain dark-haired executive (ex-executive now, you remind yourself bitterly) lurking around your floor constantly trying to get your attention, and if people weren’t nervous enough about you, they were definitely terrified of him.

“Five seconds to explain why you came into my office without knocking or I’m putting a bullet through your fucking skull,” you say, voice acerbic, not even bothering to look up, the fingers of your free hand closing around the gun you have holstered at your side. 

“There’s a few too many cameras in the hall for my liking to stand out there and wait for you to open the door.”

The fact that he manages to dodge the bullet shot in his direction is testament to his skill, but you’ve known Dazai Osamu long enough to know that when he dodges to the side, nine times out of ten, he dodges left, so you drop your pen as soon as you pull the trigger and swipe the knife laying haphazardly on your desk, launching it in his direction. You watch as his eyes widen just a bit when it impales the wall right next to his ear, just barely nicking his skin—both a warning and a threat.

“My, my, bella, you’ve gotten faster the past few years,” Dazai grins, unperturbed, smile as reckless and lazy as the day he left four years ago as he plucks the knife from the wall. “I’ve missed you too.”

“What the hell are you doing here, Dazai?” you ask, voice cold and sharp as your finger rests against the trigger of your gun. “How did you get up here?”

“Security’s gotten lax since I’ve been gone, I guess,” Dazai shrugs, but his eyes dance with mirth as he makes his way over to your desk. “You should probably do something about that.”

“Dazai,” you say, keeping your voice low and trying to reign in your temper. There are no cameras in your office, but the hall leading here is littered with them, hidden ones that were recently installed that he wouldn’t know about, if any one of them caught his face and it’s reported to Mori… “You think I won’t drag your ass to Mori myself? What the fuck are you doing?”

You’d have to, or it would be your head on the line for betraying the Port Mafia—you know better than anyone the treatment that traitors get, considering you were the one that dealt with them up until you were sent abroad three years ago to handle Mori’s foreign politics. 

“I don’t know, will you?” Dazai counters, head tilted to the side as he takes a seat on top of your desk next to you, a smile on his face that makes you think he knows something that you don’t.

“Maybe,” you answer, finger twitching on the trigger as you keep your gun pointed in his direction. 

Dazai is completely unbothered, leaning down until his nose is nearly brushing yours, lips tugged up in an unbearable smirk. 

“Then do it,” he challenges, and you glare at him, jaw tight and eyes hard. He reaches out, fingertips brushing your skin, and you feel like you’re on fire beneath his touch. You hate that your body still betrays you to him. “Don’t look at me like that, bella. I won’t even resist, I promise, as long as you promise to be the one to put a bullet through my skull, so your face can be the last thing I see. Ah, that would be a lovely death, wouldn’t it?” 

“You’re a fucking freak, Dazai,” you spit out, but make no move to get up or grab your phone. “What is wrong with you?”

Dazai doesn’t respond, only winking at you. Instead, his gaze shifts to the side and his hand drops from your face to his lap again. You hate even more that you miss his touch immediately. 

“You still have my couch,” Dazai notes to himself quietly, an odd tone to his voice as he stares at the dark couch in the far corner of your office, where he’d bundle himself up under blankets to avoid Chuuya, because Chuuya used to avoid your office like the plague when the three of you were younger.

“It’s my couch,” you say tightly, even though you know no one has touched it since Dazai left, and the ugly orange blanket he liked so much is still draped over the back of it, and it probably still smells like him. Your throat feels swollen, and you steel away your emotions and continue with, “I’ve hardly been back here since you left, anyway. What do you want, Dazai?”

“I heard you were finally back in Yokohama,” he says. “I wanted to see you.”

“Fuck off,” you say roughly. “So you decide to break into the main base of the Port Mafia and come all the way up to my office? You know where my apartment is, you could’ve shown up there. What do you really want?” 

“It’s the truth,” Dazai says easily, and his dark eyes meet yours—both of them, you note, and wonder when he decided to shed the bandages that covered his right eye. “I was at your apartment for a bit, I got impatient and came here instead.”

He’s telling the truth.

Oh, you realize—the clogged feeling in your throat is coming back, you force it away again and lean back in your chair, looking away from him to turn your gaze to the window. It’s well past midnight already, the moon is high in the sky and the stars are glittering above. In the distance, you can see the Ferris Wheel of Cosmo World glowing a bright purple color and a string of flashing red and blue lights as the police chase after someone.

“Why?” you ask finally, breaking the heavy silence that had settled over the two of you. 

“I told you,” Dazai says quietly, and your eyes turn back to him. He looks… happier, you can’t help but note. A sick part of you feels jealous—you’re not sure if you’re jealous because he’s free and you’re still stuck in this place, or if you’re jealous because he’s happier and he’s happier in a life without you. You think it might be the latter. “I miss you.”

“Don’t give me bullshit, Dazai,” you snap, still trying to push away all of the feelings you’ve repressed for so long. “Get out of here before you find yourself killed. I’m not going to turn you in, but I’m not saving you if you get caught.”

“It’s not bullshit,” Dazai tells you, voice sharp in a way that it only ever is when he’s starting to get annoyed. “I-”

A knock at your door cuts Dazai off mid-sentence. Both of you freeze, Dazai looks at you as if waiting to see what you’re going to do, and you can so easily finish this now, let whoever is at your door in and drag Dazai back down to the torture room where he belongs, but instead you find yourself reaching for him. Your hand intertwines with his hair roughly, and you revel a bit in the hiss that escapes his lips as you yank him off the desk and roll your chair backward, kicking the back of his knee so that he crumples to the ground and you can push him beneath your desk. 

You lower your gun to your lap so you can keep it pointed at him and then glance down at him—he looks caught off-guard and disgruntled at being manhandled, but you think it's a bit funny how cramped he looks under there. 

“Not a single word,” you warn before fixing your chair and raising your voice. “Come in.”

Akutagawa wastes no time stepping into your office, nodding his head in respect as he makes his way over to the chair on the opposite side of your desk, a bundle of papers in hand. He doesn’t hand you the pile right away and he looks uncharacteristically nervous, and you raise your eyebrows, wondering what the issue is. 

“I am… unsure how to fill out some of the report,” Akutagawa says, unable to meet your eyes as he stares at the windows behind you. “The operation was… not a failure but not a success. The whole mission was in disarray, I do not know who was doing what at certain points.”

You stare at Akutagawa. “What do you want me to say to that?” you ask him, leaning back in your chair. “It’s your job to know that as the field officer for the mission. If you can’t handle that, Hirotsu will take back the position on the next major operation.”

Akutagawa bristles. “I can handle it,” he says, voice clipped. “This mission was just more chaotic than-”

“Than usual?” you ask idly, watching as he stiffens as your interruption. “This was child’s play, it’s unlike you to make excuses, Akutagawa.’

“I’m not making excuses,” he says immediately, “but…”

Akutagawa continues talking, but your attention is ripped away when you feel Dazai shift beneath the desk. You press your lips together tightly, stiffening as his hands rise to your thighs, spreading them a bit so he can settle between them. You glance down, he’s already peeking up at you, dark eyes glittering in a way that has you on edge. 

Don’t you dare, you warn silently, but Dazai only takes it as further encouragement, pressing his lips to your clothed inner thigh, you can feel the warmth and wetness through your slacks. It takes all of your self-control to not inhale sharply when he starts trailing open-mouthed kisses up your thigh until his mouth is hovering right above your cunt. 

You press the muzzle of your gun against his temple. 

He smiles. 

Your jaw clenches as he licks a long stripe between your legs through your slacks, making sure to press his tongue down hard over where your clit is hidden through your clothes. Akutagawa is still talking, oblivious to what’s happening beneath your desk as he airs his complaints about the mission. You could stop Dazai, place your foot on his shoulder and push him off of you, but you don’t, notably—you don’t want to acknowledge that though. You only vaguely hear Akutagawa’s issues, something about interference from a third party—the SDUP? What the hell were they doing there?— and Kajii blowing up an escape route. 

“Give me the report,” you say, cutting him off mid-sentence, and holding out your hand. You’re grateful that your voice comes out steadier than you feel with Dazai trying to tongue fuck your through your pants. 

As you lean forward to rip the papers from Akutagawa, you tense, feeling something sharp press against your inner thigh. Sitting back in your seat and glancing down, your eyes cut down to Dazai, who still has the knife you’d thrown at him and is using it to cut open your very expensive slacks.

You have half a mind to drive your foot into his face, but you refrain. If only barely.

It’s a miracle that you can keep your breath steady, because as Dazai cuts your pants, he kisses every inch of open skin that’s revealed to him. His lips are warm, wet, familiar—so familiar that your legs are instinctively spreading for him, giving him more room to work.

Your eyes scan the report but the words are just jumbled letters and not making any sense. Every time you try to understand, you feel Dazai’s teeth graze your thigh as he marks up your skin. You tense when you feel him bring the knife much closer to your cunt, to finish cutting off the material—you press the muzzle of your gun harder into the side of his head, warning him to be careful. You glance down only to see a hazy smile on his lips as he winks up at you, as if he’s drunk just off of the idea of what’s about to happen.

He works efficiently as always, freeing your lower body of your slacks and panties as quickly as possible, and he wastes no time burying his face between your legs. Your lashes flutter and the grip you have on your pen tightens dangerously, you think it might snap. Dazai’s tongue slides between your folds, lapping up the slick that had begun to pool—you know that if Akutagawa wasn’t sitting a few feet away, Dazai would be making a snide comment about how he knew you wanted him.

Dazai’s tongue flicks over your clit—you can feel him staring up at you, watching for every little reaction, the way your lip tightens as you bite back moans, the way your eyelids unconsciously start to slide shut, the way your breath is just a bit heavier than it usually is. 

This is so dangerous, you think to yourself desperately. If Akutagawa of all people figures out that Dazai is here-

You nearly choke when Dazai shifts a bit underneath the desk to kneel at a better angle, grateful that Akutagawa seems to be too busy wallowing in his own mistakes to notice your struggle. Your gaze  snaps down again, his eyes have fluttered shut as he buries his face deep into your cunt, nose pressed to your clit as he pushes his tongue into your hole and you can feel the way he lets out a silent, but shaky breath, barely holding back a moan.

You notice his free hand slide from where it was propped on your thigh down to his beige pants, fingers fumbling with the button as he desperately tries to slip his hand beneath his waistband to touch himself. You kick his wrist hard, using your foot to pin it against the side of your desk, watching him wince and withdraw his hand, looking up at you with those big brown eyes you can never say no to. 

God, he’s pathetic, his lashes are wet and his cheeks are flushed, eyes glossed over with pleasure as he looks up at you and you know you’ll let go of his wrist if he looks at you like that any longer, so you turn your gaze back up to Akutagawa, who’s staring at his lap and waiting for you to finish the report.

“Get out,” you tell him, voice sharper than you intended. Akutagawa’s eyes snap up to you, brows furrowed in confusion. “Go, I’ll handle this.”

“But-”

“Your job is to take orders, not question them,” you bite out, watching frustration flash across the boy’s face as he rises to his feet. You’re not usually this harsh with the kid, but you’re not sure how much longer you’re going to last and Akutagawa cannot be in here when you cum. You can feel the heat pooling in your stomach and that familiar hazy feeling clouding your mind. “Out, Akutagawa.”

Akutagawa inhales sharply but nods, turning stiffly on his heel to leave your office. As soon as the door to your office clicks shut, Dazai is pushing the chair backwards until the back of it hits the windows behind you, shifting into a more comfortable position as he resumes fucking you with his tongue in earnest. 

He moans into you, wanton and shameless, any restraint he had because of Akutagawa’s presence is long gone. While he was careful to not make noise before, now the sloppy sound of his tongue dragging in and out of your cunt drowns out any other noise in your office, he sucks and slurps, he’s so disgusting, like he can’t get enough of the taste of you, a man who’s been starved for years.

The knife clatters to the ground as he reaches up with both hands to grab your thighs, sliding them over his shoulders so he can push his tongue even deeper inside of you. Only sheer pride drives you to push away the creeping fog as Dazai’s tongue slides back up between your folds to draw figure eights around your clit.

“I should pull the fucking trigger, pulling this shit when he was in here,” you spit out, head falling back as a breathy noise escapes your parted lips when Dazai sucks gently at your clit. He moans again, as if the idea itself turns him on—it probably does, he’s always talked about wanting to die between your thighs. “You’re a fucking freak, Dazai.” 

He lets out a puff of air, you can’t tell if it's a laugh or another moan, maybe a mixture of both, but he’s too focused on drowning in your cunt to respond. Four years without him and you’ve forgotten just how good Dazai is with his tongue, working your body as easily as he did when the two of you were eighteen and seeking each other out before meetings and between missions for a quick fuck. You hate it—you hate that he’s treating you as if nothing has changed and you hate even more that your body is this responsive to him. 

Betrayal, you think, your own body betrays you for him. Again.

“Fuck,” you gasp the word out when Dazai rolls your clit between his teeth gently, sending a jolt through your body that throws you off just enough for that fog you’ve been fighting off to finally win. You choke over a moan, head pressed back against your desk chair, forearm coming up to press against your forehead as your eyes slide shut. Your free hand finally finds its place in his hair, tightening around his dark locks, he lets out a whimper against you, tongue flicking over your clit. “Like that. Just like that.”

You can hardly keep your head on straight as he traces letters around the sensitive bud, you try to figure out what he’s spelling but you’re too far gone. Your head is light and your chest is heaving. You’re barely able to bite back moans as your thighs tighten around his head, hips rocking against his face. You don’t even know if he can breathe, you don’t think you care, so close to the edge that your entire body is tingling and trembling; you don’t think he cares either from the way he’s moaning into you.

It takes one last suck, one last swirl around your clit, and you’re crying out his name, spots dotting your vision as your grip on his hair tightens, pushing his face impossibly deeper into you as you grind your hips against his face. God, it feels never-ending, a noise too close to a sob nearly escapes your lips as Dazai ardently laps up all of your cum, not letting a single drop go to waste. You can’t remember the last time you’ve cum this hard—with him, probably, you realize bitterly. None of the one-night stands you’ve had over the past few years have ever compared to him.

You’re still reeling even as you force yourself to straighten in your seat, not willing to let him know just how badly you’re thrown off by how intense your orgasm was. Your head is still spinning, vision still blurring, but you lift your leg and press your foot to Dazai’s shoulder, kicking him back and forcing him out from his position between your thighs. 

He grunts, looking thoroughly disgruntled as he falls back on his ass, pouting up at you as he tries to catch his breath. He looks debauched, lips swollen and wet, your cum smeared on the lower half of his face. His cock is straining against his beige pants and his eyes are still glazed over; he’s looking up at you with an expression that’s nothing short of reverent. 

God, he’s gorgeous. 

You hate him. 

You’ve missed him. 

You shift in your seat and Dazai is lifting himself to his knees, immediately leaning closer, a hazy smile on his lips as he angles his face up and pointedly parts his lips, sticking his tongue out. You know what he wants and the heat that had been slowly dissipating returns with a vengeance, breath catching as you look down at him.

“You’re gross,” you tell him, watching the corner of his lips quirk up even as he keeps his tongue out and waiting.

You don’t deny him. You never can. 

You shift forward, rising to your feet and reaching out to grab his chin, angling your face down. Your grip is too tight, it’ll leave bruises behind and you think that’s the least he deserves so you only tighten it a bit more as you lean over him. You don’t give him what he wants, not right away, letting the saliva gather on your tongue as you observe him, the way his pupils are blown wide and his chest is hardly rising and falling, as if he can’t even let himself breathe in anticipation.

Disgusting, you think again, but it’s fond this time, much to your displeasure.

You decide to put him out of his misery, letting the spit dribble from your mouth down to his. His eyes roll back as soon as it hits his tongue, and your hand slides from his chin to curl around his neck—not tight, just firm enough to feel the way his throat bobs as he swallows.

He lets out a shaky breath, eyes fluttering back open as he looks up at you, entirely blissed out. Your hand slides down more, curling around the ugly bolo tie he’s wearing in place of the black one you’re used to. You tug it hard, beckoning him to his feet; he acquiesces, albeit on shaky legs. 

Immediately, his hands find your hips as he pushes you against your desk, spinning you around to face it before his hand presses between your shoulder blades, pushing you down to bend you over it. Your eyes widen at the sudden change in demeanor, something you’ll never be able to get used to no matter how many times you fuck him; it always caught you off guard back then, it still catches you off guard now. He pulls off the remnants of your destroyed slacks and immediately is grinding his bulge against your ass, a low moan spilling from his lips. 

“How many people have you been with?” he suddenly asks, and you can hear him fumbling to unbutton his own pants. There’s an edge to his voice that you don’t like—something caught between jealousy and possessiveness, and you nearly want to scoff at it.

“What the fuck, Dazai?” you spit out, appalled and not expecting the question. “None of your damn business.” 

You turn your head to the side to rest your cheek on the desk, looking back at him from the corner of your eye. His eyes are still a bit hazy but there’s a tight expression on his face, reminiscent of the one that would be directed toward you whenever he stumbled in on you entertaining anyone other than him years ago. 

“Humor me,” he says, voice cold and eerily familiar. If you weren’t looking at him and if you couldn’t see the tan coat and bolo tie, you’d think you were talking to Dazai Osamu, Port Mafia Executive, and not Dazai Osamu, Detective. 

“A lot,” you finally tell him, feeling the way he stiffens behind you. “I don’t keep count. You?” 

You think he has some nerve asking when he’s probably slept around t-

“None.”

“Bullshit,” you snarl immediately. “How many? Don’t fucking lie to me, Dazai.”

“None,” he says again, gaze lifting from your back to meet yours, his eyes are dark—too dark, too still. Maybe he hasn’t changed as much as you assumed, because the way your chest swells with a confusing mixture of fear and arousal is far too familiar. “You’re the only one allowed to touch me.”

His gaze drags back down, with his pants unbuttoned, he lifts his free hand to caress the swell of your ass, a contemplative expression on his face as he stares down at you, his other hand still pinning you down to your desk. If your heart wasn’t thudding in your ears from sheer anticipation, you’d be irate over the fact that you were letting Dazai Osamu fuck you over your own desk in your own office, but you can’t bring yourself to care now.

“They never made you feel like this.” It’s a statement, not a question, and you want to scoff at his arrogance, but you can’t because he’s right. “They don’t know your body like I do.”

This time you do scoff. “You don’t know shit, Dazai. It’s been four years.”

Dazai’s eyes flicker back up to you, the way his lips curve up into a smile is dangerous.

“No?” he questions. 

A challenge. You never back down from one, not from him. 

“No.”

His smile sharpens.

“I know that after you cum for the first time,” he murmurs, rolling his hips forward. You bite back a moan when you feel the tip of his cock slip between your folds. “The second time comes right after.”

True to his words, your jaw falls slack and your entire body seizes as Dazai thrusts into you, splitting you right open on his cock. The moan he lets out is pornographic, and you wish you could see the way his head falls back and his eyes roll into his skull, but your own vision is white and you’re choking over a sob as you feel the familiar stretch of his cock against your walls.

“There you are.” Dazai has the nerve to let out a breathless laugh and another groan as he stills with his hips flush to your ass, feeling your walls spasm around him as you cum just from the feeling of him pushing inside of you. The hand he has placed between your shoulder blades slides up to curl around your throat. With a firm grip, he pulls you up so only your thighs are pressed against the edge of your desk, back flush to his chest as you gasp, reeling from the suddenness of your second orgasm. You can feel him smile as he nudges his nose against the side of your head, lips pressed to your ear. “The third time takes a bit after the second, but I’ll fuck you through it. Maybe a fourth too.”

“Dazai,” you gasp, eyes blown wide as your head falls back against his shoulder. You don’t know what you’re trying to say, maybe hold on, or wait, because you know you’ll embarrass yourself if he doesn’t give you a second to recover.

He hums in response, and the slow rolls of his hips, the drag of his cock against your walls, it has your head in the clouds, body trembling. Your lips part to speak but no words leave them, and right when you think you can finally force the words out, Dazai draws his hips back and snaps them back against yours hard. Your lips part in a silent moan, only the hand around your throat and the one pressed to your lower belly holds you up as Dazai fucks you at a brutal pace. 

His face drops to the crook of your neck, he moans into your skin, teeth scraping hard as he kisses recklessly up and down every available inch. He’s going to leave marks, you realize, and that’s dangerous now that you’re back in Yokohama because you don’t need any of the other executives to get suspicious, but even if you wanted to tell him not to, you don’t think you’d be able to. Whatever little coherency you had left in your thought process does not translate when you try to speak, the only things leaving your lips being shaky moans and gasps of Dazai’s name.

“Made for me,” Dazai groans. His grip on your throat tightens just enough to make the air you breathe in shallow, your head feels light and you’re not sure if it’s because of his grip or if it’s the feeling of his cock bullying so deep into you that you can feel his tip pressing up against your cervix. “Waited so many years for this, feels even better than I remember, pussy’s made for me, isn’t it?”

Dazai babbles into your ear as he fucks you, tongue just as filthy and unbridled as the day he left. Shameless. He’s so shameless. Doesn’t even care that anyone could walk into your office and catch the two of you; doesn’t care that if anyone does, he’ll end up executed. He’s fucking you in a building full of people that want him dead and all he cares about is how your cunt feels wrapped around his cock.

Your breath hitches as Dazai shifts you to bend over just a little more, still keeping your back flush to his chest but fucking you at a new angle—one that nearly sends you spiraling over the edge for a third time. 

“Gonna give me your third now?” he pants. His hand on your lower stomach slips down, lithe fingers dipping between your folds to search for your clit—your back arches against him when he finds it, a sob spilling from your lips, vision swimming with tears. Dazai laughs again, this one is strained, catching over a moan as your walls convulse around him. “Oh, fuck. Fuck, you’re so tight.” 

Unconsciously, his grip on your throat tightens, cutting off even more air. You can hardly breathe, you can hardly think—each thrust of his hips has your head spinning, ripping the little air you can inhale right out of your lungs. The tip of his cock rubs against that spongy spot inside of you every time he snaps his hips against yours, the quick circles he rubs on your clit are electrifying. 

Your cheeks are wet, breath ragged, vision spotty. One last thrust, one last circle, and you’re wrecked, sobbing out his name as your legs give out, only held up by the way he has your thighs pinned to your desk and his hand on your neck. You cum all over his cock so hard that you think you black out for a second, your mind fuzzy and pins and needles pricking all over your body.

Dazai doesn’t stop. He fucks you through your third orgasm, relishing in the way your body twitches and trembles, too sensitive for his touch. 

“Your fourth will come quick,” he gasps. His pace is erratic now, chasing his own release. Your ears are ringing, heartbeat thudding in your ears, the wet, sloppy sound of his cock driving in and out of you resounding through your office. “I don’t think I’ll last for five. Shit, shit, I’m close.”

You have to force yourself to move. You want to see him when he finishes. Your hand wraps around his wrist, nails digging into his skin to try to get his attention. It takes all of your will power to push the two words from your lips: “Flip me.”

He does. Without any sort of hesitation, his hand drops from your throat to your waist. His cock slips out of you for a split second and your cunt aches at the loss, but Dazai is immediately pushing himself back into you as he hoists you up by the thighs, sitting you down on your desk and wrapping your legs around his waist. 

Even through your blurry vision, Dazai is a fucking sight. His dark hair is matted to his forehead, pink lips swollen and wet, cheeks flushed. His eyes glazed over and half rolled back as he chases his high. God, he’s stunning. You’ve missed him. You’ve missed him.

You’re not thinking as you lift your hand to cup his cheek, sliding around to the back of his head to pull his face down to yours, moving on pure instinct. You drag him down to press your lips against his and Dazai is gone. The moment your lips touch his, he’s moaning into your mouth, hips stuttering against you as he spills his cum deep inside of you, and he’s right, because the moment you feel his cum filling you up, warm and thick, so much of it that you can feel it dribbling around his cock, the stickiness smearing against your thighs and ruining your desk, you’re pushed over the edge for the fourth time.

This one is weaker than the rest, not a single noise escapes you but your jaw goes slack and Dazai whimpers into your mouth when he feels your walls tightening around him again. But he takes advantage of your pliancy, pushing you back gently so that your back is flush to your desk. He follows you down, keeping his chest pressed to yours as he maps out your mouth with his tongue. He rolls his hips against yours, slow and deep, fucking his cum deeper into you as the two of you slowly come down from your highs. He slants his lips against yours to deepen the kiss, hand coming up to cup your cheek, his other sliding up and down one of your thighs. 

It’s too intimate. You tell yourself that you only let it happen because you’re reeling from overstimulation but you know it's a lie.

You don’t even know how long you stay in that position with him. It could only be a few seconds, a few minutes, it could’ve been an hour for all you know, laying on your desk with him pressed on top of you, kissing you so passionately that it makes your head spin as much as the orgasms did. 

Finally, you press your hand against his shoulder, signaling for him to get off of you. He does, albeit with a reluctant sigh. You stare up at the ceiling as Dazai shakily rebuttons his pants, making his way over to the closet where you still keep your spare clothes from when you have to stay over at the office to work. 

What did you do?

You’re hyper aware of how swollen your lips are, of the marks littering your neck, of the cum dribbling out of your cunt, staining your desk. 

If anyone finds out about this-

You don’t get to finish the thought, because Dazai comes back over to you. Neither of you speak as he takes a tissue to clean up his cum from your thighs and as it dribbles out of you, nor do you speak when he shifts you into a sitting position, helping you pull on a new pair of panties and a new pair of slacks.

He stands in front of you, dozens of indecipherable emotions rocketing across his face as his dark eyes search your expression for something. You don’t know what, and you don’t even want to look at him but you can’t draw your gaze away from him.

After what feels like forever, he finally speaks.

“I missed you,” he says, voice hoarse as he lifts a hand to cup your cheek. 

You turn away from his touch, ignoring the hurt that flashes through his eyes. 

“Why don’t you believe me? You think four years has changed how I feel about you? I thought you knew me better than that.”

“It’s been four years,” you say, and you hate that your voice wavers a bit. You blame it on still being hazy after your orgasm but you know it’s a weak excuse. You hate that he still has this effect on you after all these years. You hate that you always give into him, and you hate that you know you’ll never get enough of him. You want to hate him, but you can’t. “Knowing how to fuck me isn’t the same as knowing me as a person. I barely know you anymore. You barely know me. And it’s not like you were open with how you felt four years ago. So, forgive me if it’s a bit hard to believe, Dazai.”

“You wear the same perfume. You still shoot with your non-dominant hand for some god forsaken reason. Your lips still twitch whenever you get annoyed even though you do your best to stop it. You-”

“Stop.”

“You still talk to me like you hate me even though your eyes are all soft and you’re leaning in toward me.” Dazai doesn’t stop, and to your horror, he’s right—you had begun to lean in to him instinctively as he spoke. You try to shift away from him, but he follows, fingers grazing your cheek, chest brushing yours. You don’t pull away this time. “I still wear the same cologne you bought me for Christmas because it reminds me of you—I spent two months trying to figure out where you bought it when it first ran out. I don’t carry a gun around as often, but when I do, I still try to do that stupid flipping trick you tried to teach me when we were seventeen—I still can’t do it, almost shot myself in the knee last time I tried.”

The laugh he lets out at the last sentence is hollow. He hesitates, as if he wants to continue but isn’t sure if he should. You can feel his blunt nails scraping gently against your skin, his palm warm against your cheek. You want to pull away but you’ve missed him, no matter how much you try to convince yourself otherwise, and you find yourself sinking into his touch. You’ve always questioned why Mori sent you away for so long, angry because you figured he thought you were weak when it comes to Dazai and he didn’t want to risk anything. 

Only a few days back in Yokohama, and you’re already proving him right.

“I’m not the same person,” you tell him, something desperate edges at your tone. Desperate to convince him, or yourself, you’re not sure.

“I still love you,” he rasps, voice quiet as if he’s scared to admit it even to himself, and your heart is suddenly lodged in your throat as you stare up at him with wide eyes, the words he refused to tell you back when you were teens ringing through your head over and over again. “I’ve always loved you. Thought about you every day. I missed you so much.”

“I should hate you,” you say, swallowing thickly, unshed tears blurring your vision. “You didn’t even say goodbye. When Mori said you defected in the middle of a mission, I laughed in his face. Not because I didn’t think you’d never betray the Port Mafia, but because I didn’t think you’d ever leave me without saying anything.”

“If I said goodbye to you, I never would have left,” Dazai tells you quietly, the admission echoing in your years. “And I had to leave. I had to.”

“I should hate you,” you repeat, voice a bit weaker now, and you feel pathetic for falling apart like this in front of him. But it’s Dazai, he’s always had this effect over you. You suppose some things haven’t changed, because that certainly hasn’t. 

“I know,” he murmurs. 

You inhale deeply, shaking your head as you push yourself off your desk and straighten out your clothes, trying to get your head back on straight. You should’ve known better than to think you’d be able to come back to Yokohama and pretend that Dazai Osamu didn’t exist, for better or for worse, the two of you would always find your way back to each other. Mori was right to send you away, although you suppose the man is rarely wrong anyway.

Dazai doesn’t say anything, watching you with an unreadable expression as you search through the ruined piles of paper on your desk for the report that Akutagawa had handed you. Your eye twitches when you realize that it’s stained, realizing that you’re going to have to rewrite the whole thing because you can’t submit a cum-stained report to Mori.

Dazai snorts behind you, as if realizing your predicament. The look you give him is lethal, he silences himself quickly. 

“Don’t get yourself killed on the way out,” you tell him, grabbing your black jacket off your chair and swinging it over your shoulders as you look back at him. “If you make it out of here alive, I’ll see you at my apartment later. Then we can talk.”

His face twists. “What? Wait, don’t leave me here,” he panics, nearly tripping over his feet and your desk chair to follow after you. “Help me sneak out.”

“You got in here yourself,” you say dismissively. “Get out yourself.”

The noise he lets out is pathetic. “You do hate me,” he accuses. 

“No, I could never,” you admit quietly. His expression softens a bit, but you give him a sharp smile. “But I’m definitely not going to make things easy for you. Akutagawa is still out here prowling around. So is Chuuya, actually. Said he’d be at the office all night today. Good luck, you’re gonna need it.”

[angel-sweets666]

Barbarians can’t be gentle

Barbarian bakugo x reader

A/n HEYYYYYY, I did a poll to see what I should write about and right now, this was winning! So this is a one shot for you guys

barbarians can’t be gentle, that’s was literally every other person said when you told them you were getting married off to the barbarian tribe to strengthen your clans forces. They all looked at you with concern, pity, worry and for some even fear. The rumour spread quick that our leaders decided to marry you off, and people weren’t happy. Three days before the wedding, you were called by the leaders. They made you pack your backs and leave in the middle of the night to marry you off.

which brings you to now sitting inside a tent while many people fidgeted with your hair, clothes and face makeup. You sat emotionless, staring off at the wall “what’s wrong?” One of the people ask “huh? Nothing… nothing…” you said, trying to shake off the look of misery you had on your face “he’s very nice” one of the women said as she applied a white stripe to the left side of your cheek “no he’s not, he’s rude.” The man next to her said as he put stuff in your hair “shush you’ll make them scared!” The woman next to the both of them tried to shush them “who is nice or rude or whatever! Who is it.” You snapped at them, they all stopped bickering and turned to look at you “you… you don’t know who you’re marrying?” One woman asks “no!” You replied, and their faces said it all. Shock, surprise and mostly pity. This happens alot, people from other tribes and clans are Brought in to marry barbarian however this doesn’t end well and often results in the death of either partner, or someone running away. It never goes well.

people were surprised to see you when you left the plain tent to go to the wedding ceremony, you were very attractive by barbarian standards. They were hoping that your future husband would keep you around long enough, you still didn’t know who your future spouse was. All you knew was he was loud, and blonde, with a good sense of how to train a dragon (movie reference??). As you were ushered up the alter, you looked up to see a very angry looking young man, maybe 20 years old or maybe a little older? They placed you to be adjacent of him. The officiant was a short man who obviously has seen better years, probably around 70 years old. “Blah blah blah bakugo!” The man said, your husbands name was bakugo.. nice to know. “Do you take *name* to be your wife/husband/spouse” he smiles to bakugo like this was a love marriage “uh..” he said gruffly, and looked out at the crowd “yeah whatever i do” he tried to hurry it up “uh.. okay… *name!* do you take bakugo katsuki to be your husband?” You gulped and looked at him then at your feet “y-yeah I guess” “is that a i do?” “I do, I do”

that night you found yourself in the bed next to bakugo, he looked cuddly. But you knew he probably wouldn’t let you cuddle him “katsuki?” You called out to him “what?” He grumbled and pushed his face into some pillows “I know you don’t like… know me” “damn well I don’t know you” “okay let me finish.” You scoffed “I know you don’t know me, but to try and make this marriage a little more uh…. Tolerable.. can I try like… affection with you..?” You asked gently, to try and get him comfortable “no fuck off” “katsuki I’m trying to make this work” “UGHH FINE” he yelped like an annoying little baby. Gently you pulled him to lay in your arms, and ontop of you chest. His body between your legs as you played with his ash blonde hair; giving him a little head massage. “Comfy…?” You cooed and all you got was a raspy grumble back. You giggles “I’ll take that as a yes”

over the next few days he wasn’t that bad, while he was mostly gone during the day, at night it was just cuddles and late night talking. You learned he didn’t get along with his mother, his father was a submissive and not helpful during his childhood, that he was a good hunter, he believed in keeping smaller partners safe ect. This night you found yourself being his little spoon, his strong arms wrapped around your waist as he mumbled stuff with his face buried into your shoulder “my spouse……” he mumbled “yeah.. I’m your spouse” you said to him like he was a baby learning to talk. He giggled and then kept burying his face into your shoulder. “Maybe I do like you… just a little….”

who said barbarians can’t be gentle?

[gojoidyll]

There is No Law that Emperors Must be Fair

Emperor ! Jing Yuan x Princess ! Reader

Chapter 2 | A Plan Fails

Summary | You are set to marry the Emperor, Jing Yuan. In order to break the engagement, you stage an accident and fake having amnesia. But now, your own cruel, cold, and distant fiancé, who seemed to not want anything to do with you, is now acting all lovey dovey!

Warnings | reader is referred to with she/her pronouns, grammatical errors, etc.

want to be a part of the taglist? then pls go to taglist ^-^

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When you opened your eyes, you noticed how your ceiling didn’t look at all like your room. Not to mention that everything hurt. Which was understandable, you did fall down a long flight of stairs after all in hopes of-

Wait, you can remember everything!?!?!?

Despite the pain, you shot up from the bed. Your hands gripping the sheets as you panicked. You were no actor in one of those fancy plays that you would sneak into every once in a while, and Jing Yuan, as you have heard from others, was a sharp individual. If you wanted to hide something from him, then you would basically have to write to him in letters in hopes that he doesn’t come see your lying face in person.

What am I going to do?!

Looking around, you finally took notice how you were laid up in the infirmary. No one else was around to see your outburst and no one outside was alerted that you were awake, well, until you heard bustling footsteps coming right to the infirmary door.

Even though I don’t have amnesia, I’ll just have to fake it! I’m in no way an actor, but Jing Yuan has barely said two words to me since I got here, so I highly doubt he knows what I look like when I am lying! I’ll just have to take the chance and fake it till I make it!

Hurriedly, you laid back down and tried to straighten out your sheets before closing your eyes. It was a dangerous game that you decided to play, but you wanted out of here. You already threw yourself down the stairs, faking amnesia should be easy compared to that. (Though, you were still a bit angry that the amnesia thing didn’t actually happen…)

And just as you calmed your racing heart and turbulent thoughts, the infirmary door was slammed open, “where is she?!”

You couldn’t stop your eyebrows from furrowing at the sound of Jing Yuan’s voice. You didn’t expect him to be the one to be waltzing in here.

“She’s over here, Your Highness.”

You had to force your eyes from popping open. That voice was unmistakenly Blade’s. But how was he that close to you? Was he in the room this whole time?! Did you just not notice him?!

Jing Yuan walked over to where Blade was, “have you been guarding her this whole time?”

“I have.”

You died a little on the inside. Your soul shriveling up as the seconds passed. This is unbelievable! Out of all the times you don’t notice Blade being in the same room as you and NOW is one of those times.

“Has she woken up at all?”

Jing Yuan turned his gaze to you, and you tried your best not to quiver in your bed. Since Blade most definitely saw you wake up and shoot out of your bed in a panic, then he will definitely tell the Emperor that-

“No, she hasn’t.”

If you weren’t trying to act like you were sleeping, you would have given him the most bewildered look imaginable. Blade. Emperor Jing Yuan’s right-hand man and general. Just lied.

You felt a light yet firm hand caress your face, calloused fingers gently moving strands of hair out of your face, “I see,” Jing Yuan muttered, “well, when she wakes up. Please have someone inform me but stay by her side.”

“Understood.”

You thought that was the end of it, but immediately felt a pair of lips press against your forehead before the presence was gone altogether and you heard a door closed.

“You can open your eyes now, princess.”

Cracking your eyes open you were met with Blade crossing his arms over his chest, “care to explain yourself.”

It wasn’t a question, but more of a demand.

You sat up whilst grabbing your sheets again, “I…I wanted to get out of this arranged marriage. So I thought if I got amnesia then I could leave and go back home.”

“And how did that work out for you?”

You frowned, “terrible. I didn’t get amnesia. Instead, I’m hurting all over. Which reminds me, why did you lie back there? You obviously saw me wake up and panic.”

Blade shrugged, “I wanted to know what you were up to. Besides, I’m not the only one who saw you.”

“What do you mean?”

“During your little staged incident, the one who caught you before you could tumble down even more stairs was Dan Heng.”

“He told me he saw the whole thing. How you perfectly timed the maids, to how you fell, and how you tumbled down the stairs. He said it all looked intentional.”

Dan Heng, also known as Imbibitor Lunae, was even more dangerous than Jing Yuan. He was a high elder and a Vidyadhara. Not much else is known about him, but apparently he is a great strategist who can take down anyone and was praised many times by Jing Yuan himself.

“Great…,” you muttered as you let your head fall. Your eyes staring holes into your hands as you tried to come up with a solution of what to do. Your plan was falling apart before it even began it seemed.

“Great indeed.”

You were brought out of your thoughts when you felt Blade take a hold of your chin, his fingers gripping onto your cheeks as he forcefully made you look up at him. You didn’t even hear him move.

“So since it seems your great plan is falling apart, I and Dan Heng would like to make a deal with you. It’s quite simple that even someone like you would be able to do it.”

You didn’t like where this was going one bit.

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[ohbueckers]

HEART OF A WOMAN. you always end up under me. you know how it goes, don’t be crazy, don’t play dumb with me.

04, CHAPTER FOUR. ONE IN THE SAME / BLAME GAME.

ju speaks. let me finish out my sparks dreams with this fic… hopefully this cures our full on dallas crash outs cause i worked my ahhh off to finish it today. also paige’s view is so much more fun to write lol. pairing. wnba!paige bueckers x fem!oc. warnings. sexual content (filth but war is over).

present day, may 2025.

i knew she didn’t deserve it. i was biting back words i should’ve just swallowed, and she didn’t even flinch. i almost wish she had. instead, she just looked at me, the disappointment clear as day, like she expected no less of me. no type of change. i knew it the second the words left my mouth—i wanted to pull her back, hold onto her and say whatever she needed to hear. it’s always like that. but it was too late. she left, and now it feels like i’m walking a tightrope again, waiting for the next time she’ll decide to speak to me.

that’s probably why, when i see her walk into this bar tonight, i’m done listening to whatever rickea and cam are rambling on about. it doesn’t matter that i’m here with them, celebrating a win. it doesn’t matter that maya’s been trying to make a place for herself in my life, or that i should be trying to figure out if that’s what i want. because the second nai steps in, it’s like she’s the only person here, and we’re right back where we started.

i’m nursing a shirley temple, pretending it’s something stronger, while rickea and cam talk about the game, looking like they’re about to float right off the barstools. i try not to, but i notice the way nai shakes her head, shoots one of those tight little smiles our way, like she’s already clocked the situation—cam, halfway to tipsy and clearly not ready to leave. she sighs, sliding next to her, which inconveniently places her way too far from me. two seats, really. still too far.

kea greets nai happily, and i force myself to acknowledge her with a raise of my eyebrows. cam pulls her into the conversation all effortlessly, and i think this is the most bubbly i’ve seen the blonde. “nai! you should’ve been here sooner. you saw that blowout, right?” she exclaims, her voice a little too loud.

nai humors her with a smile, but i can tell it’s half-hearted. she’s tired, probably came just to pick cam up and call it a night. i’m sure she’d be getting comfortable if it weren’t for me though.

“aw,” she pouts. “they put up a good fight. you ready to—“ i’m wrapping my lips around a cherry when the bartender comes around to nai, grabbing her attention from her main priority. she slides a napkin in front of her, all thirty two teeth on display, looking her in the eye like she’d fuck her. or worse, she already has.

“oh, i’m not drinking tonight,” i hear her say politely, and i almost break my neck to catch a glimpse of the interaction. it’s stupid. believe me, i know, but i can’t stop.

“cutting back? let me just get you a water then,” she chirps, and i try to make sense of the treatment she’s getting. friends? i don’t care. i know all of nai’s friends. i see the bartender’s eyes flicker to me just for a moment, like she’s measuring the situation despite there being two other people here with us. between us. i look down to her name tag. ana. then, with a smile that doesn’t reach her eyes, she’s rounding the same corner she came from.

i follow her figure as she leaves, and cam is the first to say something. “man, this feels just like ‘girlfriend of the week’ all over again.” she laughs, reaching for her half-empty vodka cranberry. the second one she’s had tonight. how many shots were in that thing? nai immediately pushes the glass away from her, and her face tightens just a bit, enough for me to catch it.

girlfriend of the week.

i raise my eyebrows, taking my sweet time as i lean back, swirling the straw around in my shirley temple. nai’s sitting back in her chair too, giving me the perfect opportunity to look straight at her. “girl of the week, huh? sounds like you got a whole rotation set up, nai,” i say, just vague enough to leave room for deniability.

she narrows her eyes at me as she adjusts her posture up off the seat, and i change my position too. “yeah,” cam pipes up, giggling like a school girl, “not that it’s any of your business though, paige,” she jokes, pointing an accusing finger at me. i suppose even through blatant confessions she’s still gotta protect her friend. “i mean, what’s it been, a month?“

rickea, sitting beside me, cringes and looks over, her eyes wide with something like regret. she mouths a quiet “sorry,” tilting her head toward cam like he’s apologizing for her, like she knew this was coming before she even opened her mouth. i squint back at her, barely nodding. i don’t want rickea’s silent apologies, i want an explanation.

nai’s lips press into a thin line, and i can see her fingers tapping rhythmically against the counter. she’s holding herself back, probably biting her tongue. it’s almost impressive, but i can’t resist pushing it just a little further.

“well, don’t leave us hanging, cam,” i urge, resting my chin in my hand, eyes glinting. “elaborate.”

cam’s head whips toward me, then back to nai, who’s gone from tense to downright glacial, her eyes shooting daggers at me like i’ve hit a nerve. cam laughs nervously. “oh, i really shouldn’t,” she says, giving a small, forced chuckle that’s more about backing away from the topic than anything else.

i open my mouth, but rickea seizes the moment, standing up and pulling cam off the stool with her. “come on, you’re due for a refill. let’s go check out the line, huh?” she says quickly, steering her toward the bathroom with a not-so-subtle look back at me, like she’s trying to pull them both out of the blast radius. cam stumbles along, protesting with a, “there’s no—“ that i catch before she’s far enough that i can’t hear her slurred words.

i shift, turning fully toward nailea. my elbows rest heavy on the bar, my hands clasped in front of me like i’m calm, but we both know better. she looks ready to up and leave. “so, what’s good? who is she?”

nai’s brows furrow, and she looks at me like i’ve lost it. “what are you talking about?” she asks, her tone clipped, like i’m wasting her time.

“you heard me,” i press, my eyes locked on her. “ana or whoever the hell else—how many it been? ‘cause you clearly left some stuff out.”

she glares at me a second longer before turning her head away, like she’s done with this conversation before it even started. “you don’t get to ask me that, paige.” i can tell she’s trying not to give me any more than that, but it’d never work.

i tilt my head, pushing myself to the edge of the seat, letting the words roll off. “nah, i think i do,” i say, keeping my voice low, licking my lips. “you can’t give me hell ‘bout maya and then act like i’m outta pocket for asking this. how many, lea?”

she whips her head to me, finally, eyes all annoyed and fiery. it’s clear i’m treading thin ice with her, and i’m completely oblivious to the breaking point. “you don’t want to know,” she argues. “and even if you did, it wouldn’t change a thing. we’re not together. remember?” she reminds with this petty ass shrug, and it makes me wanna—

the bartender, ana, strolls back over then, her timing so bad it feels intentional. she sets the water nai had clearly ordered out of politeness with this heedless smile, as if she can’t read a room. i sit back, biting back whatever i want to throw out next, letting the silence speak for itself.

nai thanks her, avoids eye contact, and she glances between the two of us like she’s trying to figure out the vibe, and i know she feels it, but she doesn’t take the hint. of course not.

“yo,” i say, tilting my head up in her direction, and maybe i shouldn’t have said anything at all. “we’re kinda in the middle of something.” i gesture between nai and i, and she scrunches her face up, probably at the mention of ‘we.’

ana blinks, her smile faltering, but instead of backing off, she has the nerve to look at nai, like she’s trying to gauge if she needs saving or some shit. “you okay?” she asks, her voice all soft, like i’m not sitting right here.

the audacity.

“she good, bro,” i cut in before nai can even think about answering for herself, my words quick and clipped. i throw in a tight smile for effect, but it’s not doing much to hide the clear attitude i’d just given her. “appreciate the concern, though.”

ana’s face shifts, her smile completely gone now, and she stares at me for a beat too long before nodding awkwardly, fingernails tapping against the counter. “alright, uh, just let me know if you need anything else,” she mumbles, finally walking away.

i don’t feel any better watching her leave. i clench my jaw, that sharp burn in my chest flaring up again. nai’s silence digs into me. why isn’t she saying anything? yelling that it isn’t my place?

i glance over at her. she’s not looking at me. not even at the glass of water sitting untouched in front of her, and then she moves. quiet and deliberate, she stands, slinging her bag over her shoulder without so much as a glance in my direction. i furrow my eyebrows in confusion. she’s leaving? she’s leaving.

“nai.” my voice is low but filled with enough stern to catch her as she turns toward the exit. she doesn’t stop, doesn’t pause, doesn’t give me anything.

i shouldn’t follow her. i know i shouldn’t. i should’ve just left it at that. but theres several parts of me that can’t leave her alone no matter how hard i try to respect her wishes. it’s a continuous thing. a bad habit, really.

but the second she pushes through the door, i’m up. the chair scrapes loudly against the floor as i shove it back. i drop a twenty next to my drink, and before i can think better of it, i’m heading after her.

the air outside feels no less suffocating than it did in the bar, warm and sticky like its clinging to my skin. nai’s halfway across the lot already, her pace quick and determined as she beelines for her car. my legs are much faster than hers though. her keys are clutched tightly in her hand, the sound of the fob unlocking her door breaking through the quiet.

“nai,” i call, my voice on the rise as i stride toward her. she doesn’t stop.

“nai!” i know her well enough to see it—the way her shoulders stiffen, the slight hesitation in her stride. she hears me. she just doesn’t want to. it says everything: leave me the fuck alone, paige. i can even hear her voice say it in my head.

but i’m not gonna listen. obviously.

“i wasn’t done talking to you,“ i say, the frustration etched across my entire face.

she stops and exhales sharply, jaw tightening as she drops her keys to dangle loosely from her fingers. her other hand is gripping the strap of her purse like it’s the only thing keeping her upright. she’s quiet, just angling her body toward the car like she’s going to keep pretending i’m not here.

not happening.

“aight.” i nod, lips pressed into a thin line. “the hard way?” it’s less of a question, more of ‘i know how this is about to go.’ i shift, stepping in front of her car door, my lanyard swaying out of the pocket of my sweatpants with the motion.

she glares up at me, and her head tilts just slightly, like she can’t believe i’m doing this. again. “get out the way,” she says flatly, though she knows those four words won’t do much to get me to do what she wants.

i’m not letting it go this time. “can you stop tryna’ leave when things get tough? you love walkin’ out on me instead of talk—“

“i left because i don’t want to do this again! i’m done trying to figure you out, and i’m done listening to you lie to me, paige,” she yells, and i swallow down the stern cut-off i planned to give her. “i can’t trust you.” she emphasizes every word, and i know there’s no quick fix, no easy answer. she’s right. i’ve given her every reason not to trust me.

i wish i could take it all back—the lies, the bullshit, the nights i wasn’t what she needed. but i can’t. and now i don’t know what to do, what to say, to make her believe that i wouldn’t do it again if i was given another shot.

“i know i messed up,” I finally say. it’s not the defense i’m used to putting up, not the sharp rebuttal i usually throw out. but i can’t fight her on it, it’ll only make her put both feet out the door.

she scoffs, shaking her head. “you can’t even fucking help it either.” she isn’t holding back. “you’re stubborn, you think shit is a game half the time, you don’t ever follow through…”

she’s rambling now, telling me how much of a piece of shit i am. she’s doing it so effortlessly, like she’s been rehearsing this in her head for months, years maybe, and somehow, someway, it doesn’t effect me when i hear her say it. not in the way it should.

i already know these things. i’ve heard it all before—hell, i’ve told myself most of it. but hearing it from her? the way she’s spilling it all out in dim light of this parking lot like she’s trying to exorcise me from her life for good? it should for the least bit sting. should make me feel guilty. but all i can think about is how good she looks when she’s angry, how her eyes flash and her chest rises and falls.

how she’s putting all her energy into this argument because she cares.

i run a hand down my ponytail, exhaling through my nose. “you done?” i interrupt.

she lets out a humorless laugh, shaking her head again, her hair falling into her face before she pushes it back with a sharp motion. “no, i’m not done, paige,” she snaps, and i nod my head, crossing my arms over my chest as she continues. “i’m so fucking tired of this—of you. of us. you don’t get it. you never get it. and i could leave you alone. block you, never speak to you again, but—“

i shift on my feet, licking my lips. “but you don’t wanna,” i finish for her.

she quirks a brow at me. “don’t tell me what i do and don’t want.” i want to laugh, because of course that’s how she’d respond. it’s probably how i would too. the irony isn’t lost on me.

“we’re the same,” i say.

her head jerks back slightly, confusion flashing across her face. “what?”

“we’re the same,” i repeat, meeting her gaze head-on. “that’s why we keep coming back to each other, nai. why we can’t let go. what are the odds we found each other again in la? you know it just as much as i do.”

she stares at me, lips pressing into a tight line, her eyes narrowing as if she’s trying to figure out whether i’m full of shit or actually making sense for once. she doesn’t say anything, doesn’t move, but i can see the wheels turning in her head, the way she’s trying to process what i just said.

“i’m not saying i’m perfect,” i add, stepping closer, lifting my body up off her car as i drop my voice lower. “i’m not. i fuck up. a lot. but i’ve always come back to you. always. and you? you always been there too, even when you’re mad, even when you’re hurt. we keep coming back because we don’t wanna lose this. each other.”

her lips part, her breathing uneven as she shakes her head again, though there’s less conviction behind it now. “don’t—” she starts, her voice trembling just slightly. “don’t do that. don’t make it sound like this is some… fate bullshit or whatever. it’s not. it’s messy, and it’s fucked up, and you—”

“me what, nai!?” i yell, and i think i’m just tired of her singling me out in all this like it hasn’t been a two-way street this entire time.

she squints at me, stepping closer, but i don’t back down. we’re closer now. too close. “you don’t get what it feels like to keep trying to love someone who doesn’t know how to love you back.” fuck. “you say all the right things, and then you fuck it up every single time.” her voice is calm, almost like she’s sick of yelling.

i feel my jaw clench involuntarily, and she’s getting me heated without trying. “that’s not true…” i start, but she doesn’t let me finish.

“shut up,” she snaps. “you think chasing after me, spitting a whole bunch of nothing about how we’re meant to be is gonna be the bandaid for all of this? you don’t even care about how much you’ve hurt me, paige. you never did.”

“that’s not fair, you know it,” i fire back. “and stop barkin’ at me like that.”

“or what? what are you gonna do?”

my hands are on her. her hips more specifically, guiding her over until she’s pinned against her the metal of her civic. she doesn’t fight it, even though she can’t with the way i’m handling her. her body flattens against it. “you know what i’m gonna do, nai?” i glance over her head, my eyes scanning the parking lot. still empty, just like when we got here. no headlights. no newcomers pulling in to park next to her car, not at this time of night.

her expression doesn’t waver. chin raised. lips tight. eyes locked on mine, daring me to follow through and say something that’ll only piss her off more. but i’m not giving her that. instead, i move my hand up under her jaw, forcing her head up to look at me. she whimpers, not expecting it.

i lean down, lips ghosting over her cheek. “i’m gonna remind you why you always come back.” her eyes have stayed on me, and she looks furious, hands glued to her sides.

but i’m not the one to initiate the crash of our lips, the sloppy spit exchange, she is.

her hands move to my shoulders, pulling me closer, pressing her body into mine as if she’s trying to meld with me, trying to make this real again.

“you’re so…” it’s rough, a collision of teeth and tongues as she pulls me deeper, her body pressing me harder against hers. “fucking annoying,” she breathes. i tighten my hands around her hips, guiding her to move in sync with me, and she lets out a, “fuck,” finalizing her frustrations that only pushes me further.

“okay,” i nod, tugging at her bottom lip as i pull away, just enough to look into her eyes. “you can talk all the shit you want in this backseat.”

without waiting for a response, i take a few steps and pull the car door open, the interior lights flickering on over a whole area practically ready for us. begging us to fall into it. she hesitates, glancing inside and then back at me.

she smiles, a slow, knowing grin, and that’s all i need to see. without another word, she moves around me, slipping into the car. i lick my lips, smiling to myself as i follow her in, the door shutting softly behind me.

the lights are off just as quick.

we’ve done this enough times that she knows the drill. she slides the front seats up, making room for me to stretch out, spreading my legs wide to take up the space. i get comfortable, resting my head back, and my hands have already found her hips again, pulling her to straddle me.

she takes her time, teasing me in a way i’m starting to crave. when she finally settles over me, i waste no time pulling her closer until our bodies are flush, and i can feel her against me—the warmth of her cunt through the thin pair of panties she’s wearing.

the worst part? i’ve been thinking about what’s under this jean skirt since she walked in that fucking bar.

i grin like an idiot as my head lolls to the side, my lips pulling into a smirk as she leans down to cup my face with one hand. our lips crash together again, more sloppy than the first. it’s desperate, and feels so good. there’s something else there, too—something that makes me want more. every inch of me is focused on the way her mouth moves against mine, how she’s making me lose control all over again.

braaking away from the kiss, i trail my lips down her neck, sucking and biting gently. she grinds her hips against me, and all i don’t think about claiming her with a few marks just to be cheeky, i do.

“tell me how bad you want it,” i whisper, breath fanning over the now sensitive parts of her skin. i pin her hips in one spot, and she whines slightly, not being able to do anything to get herself off.

“don’t make me, p,” she mumbles all seductively, and my eyes meet hers in the way that normally mean i’m not fucking around with her.

she realizes, and her tongue darts to the corner of her mouth. “want your fingers…” she trails off, eyes trailing down to where my crotch is. she brings her own hand down, and i shift, sucking in. “inside of me,” she finishes. “please, paige… make me come.” she presses deeper, and i swear she’s just about the only one who knows exactly how to keep me on my toes.

“mmm.” i roll my head back to her, biting down on my lip as i hike her skirt up over her ass with both hands. i let them roam before placing one right underneath her, pushing her panties to the side. i find her wetness quick, pressing my middle and index finger through her folds. “here?” i tease as i start stroking.

she nods, arching against my hand, and i can already tell she’ll be struggling to stay upright. she throws her head back instead, letting her pants fog up the windows. “i’ont think i heard you, baby,” i taunt, biting down on my lip and circling just a little slower.

her hand wraps around my wrist, practically pushing me deeper into her. “yes, there, you ass,” she mumbles all breathless. i chuckle, feeling my body getting hot as i slip both fingers in, lips parting at the squelching sound that begins filling the car. she grinds down, making me dig even deeper.

i’ve hooked my other arm under her thigh, keeping her from going too far as i pick up a rhythm that has her losing it. her body moves like it’s made for this, like it knows how to follow my lead without even thinking about it. her pretty eyes flutter shut, and i feel her tighten again, clenching around me like she doesn’t wanna let go. she can’t.

“so fuckin’ tight. you like when i stretch you out?”

with her acrylics digging into the side of my neck, she begins bucking her hips, licking over her plump lips with a whine. “love it, p. feels s’good—shit,” she gasps, her normally doe, wide eyes all blown out from the pleasure.

“mhm? that good?” i bite on my lip so hard i swear it might bleed, moving my fingers all the way out and ramming them back in repeatedly. her breaths are shallow, uneven, and we’re doing just about the same amount of work. “show me how good, ma. show me you’re mine.”

i follow her gaze, looking for her eyes before she drops her head with a pathetic whine, picking up the pace of her hips, and the way her tits bounce in that top have me physically refraining from getting her more messy than she already is.

her hands start to trail up my body, and i feel the fabric of my shirt shift as her fingers slide underneath, her palms warm against my skin. she pushes it higher and higher, her movements unhurried, leaving the end of it bunched up in her hands, resting on my chest. i can’t help it—i flex, my muscles tightening under her touch, and her eyes drop, watching the way my body reacts to her.

her forehead leans further into my neck. “paige…”

i adjust my grip, sliding deeper, and she reacts instantly, her nails scratching at the back of my neck like she’s trying to hang on. my hand moves slower now, but with more purpose, every little motion driving her higher. “yeah,” i mumble gravelly, right against her ear. “c’mon, talk to me, baby. lemme hear you.”

her body jerks, like my voice alone is messing her up, and i can’t help the smirk that spreads across my face. my lips find her jaw, then dip to her neck, dragging open-mouthed kisses down her skin that are more-so like licks, tasting her. i want her to feel this everywhere—every touch, every word, everything i’m doing to her right now.

i scissor my fingers wider, and her hips grind against my hand faster, chasing it like she’s got no choice. “don’t stop,” she whimpers, her voice cracking, and it makes me damn near lose it. “please. fuuuck.”

i lean back just enough to make her look at me, my fingers not letting up for even a second. she’s completely wrecked, her lips parted, breathing all over the place, and it’s a sight i’ll never forget. “aight,” i say, my grip tightening on her thigh as i furrow my eyebrows, chewing on my lip for some relief. “i got you. you almost there, pretty? c’mon, you know you wanna come.”

nai nods feverishly, and i can already see some of her wetness spilling out of her with every thrust, seeping into my sweatpants. she screws her eyes shut, a loud moan spilling out of her mouth, and it fuels me, my fingers working her just right.

“this?” i growl, curling right up under that deep sticky patch that’s gonna send her right over the edge. “that’s me. you feel that? nobody else. just me.”

“paige. shit. stop that—“ she gasps again, and i can tell she’s right there, hanging on by a thread. my thumb presses harder against her clit, my fingers curling deeper, and i lean into her ear again, my voice coming just over the sex sounds. “say it. say you’re mine, baby. don’t act shy now.”

her eyes snap open, locking onto mine, wide and glossy, like i’ve pulled something raw out of her. “i’m yours,” she chokes out, and it’s all she manages before her body locks up, trembling hard as she falls apart in my arms, completely wrecked.

i hold her through it as her breath stutters against my neck, my hands steady, my lips brushing over her temple as i mutter, “that’s my girl.”

her breathing slows, and she stays close, like she’s tethered herself to me, and i let her. my hand pulls out of her, moving to soothe the small of her back in lazy circles, my head tilting to press my lips to her hair. her scent clings to me—sweet, familiar, and i wouldn’t want it any other way. it’s dangerous.

“you good?” i ask, a little quieter now, dipping into something softer, something i don’t let just anyone hear. only her.

she nods faintly against my shoulder, and i can feel her heartbeat slowing down, her chest rising and falling as she tries to steady herself. her hands grip my shirt like she’s afraid i’ll pull away, so i stay, holding her just a little tighter, letting the silence stretch between us.

finally, she pulls back, just enough to look at me. her face is flushed, her lips graced with this small smile, and her eyes are still shining.

“44.2%,” she whispers.

i blink, knitting my eyebrows together as i smirk slowly. “what?”

“the odds,” she says, rolling her eyes as a grin pulls wider across her flushed face. “that you got drafted here. that we found each other again in la.”

i smile. not because she looks stupid for remembering that or even because it’s the first thing she thought of after everything we just did, but because it’s not fate, it’s us.

[weird-addiction]

'Targ is gonna Targ' you're so right for that 😭 obviously you don't have to write this if it's too much! <3

Daemon Targaryen x Nephew!reader where reader is Rhaenyra's brother/twin (you can choose if they're twins or not) and gets jealous of all the attention she is getting from Daemon and begins to become bitter about it. Reader wants to be the favorite and tries to win his affection so much that it starts to become noticeable. You can choose how it ends I don't mind whatever outcome, obviously doesn't have to be smut but I just need some Daemon x male reader there's just so little 🧎🏻

All the Attention

Pairing: Daemon Targaryen x Nephew!Reader

Genre: Neutral

Warnings: Targcest, Uncle x Nephew relationship, childbirth death, kind of rushed writing, suggestive themes

A/N: I got super busy lately this should have been a while ago

The day he was born was also the day his mother died, Queen Aemma could not survive the twin as it was unexpected and her body had failed. 

Viserys had fallen into grief while Daemon had his attention on his older sister Rhaenyra. He had no one. 

Growing up was just a pain for him as no one paid any attention to him. Even though he was his father’s heir, he still paid more attention to Rhaenyra than him. He only called for him for lessons on their history and stories. He was in small council while his sister was the cupbearer, he hardly listened as no one even paid him any thought.

It was not until his father remarried to the Lady Alicent Hightower that he started to pay attention. He may not listen during the council meetings, it did not mean he did not hear the whispers around the castle. He knew Otto was the snake, he knew Daemon knew, but yet, he did not know how to approach his own uncle about it.

He decided it one night when he could not sleep.

Knocking on his uncle's door, he entered when he heard the voice on the other side to allow permission. 

“Uncle. It’s me.”

Daemon turned to look at him over his shoulder from the couch he had. The Rogue Prince’s hair was short, it being cut when he was in the stepstones. 

“Nephew. What has you seeking me at this time of night?” He took a sip from his wine goblet. 

“I believe you know best of the Hightowers. Father would not have married Alicent out of duty, he only loved mother you have always told. So why did he-”

“Otto Hightower is a cunt.” Daemon cuts him off, his words harsh but he did not care. 

Y/n smiled at his words. “So you know as well as I do.” 

Daemon shot him a look. “Come. Sit by me.” Which Y/n did as his words had told. 

They were quiet for a few seconds before Daemon turned to his nephew who looked so alike to him, which he himself had told since Y/n’s birth that it was wrong. 

“The Hightowers want power. And now that bitch queen has your half-brother, no doubt she will push your father to put him on the throne instead of you.”

“Father won’t let that happen. I’m his first born son.” Y/n retorted, he was so sure of his words. 

“Power hungry men will do anything they can to get what they want.” Daemon states, there was truth in his words and Y/n knew it. 

But then he thought about it, there was something that tied into Daemon's own actions. 

“Aren’t you the same.” Y/n rolled his eyes. 

Daemon scoffed when he heard that, meaning he agreed. 

“You are around my sister all the time, you just want her for yourself. I can see it. The maids and servants whisper it. I may not listen to the council but I do hear the whispers that echo in the halls.” Y/n held his own authority and ground, he did not back down. 

Daemon threw the now empty goblet onto the table before gripping his nephew’s neck, pinning him to the backrest of the couch.

“Do not mistake me, nephew.” They locked eyes. “If you wanted my attention then all you had to do was ask.” 

Y/n smirked, it seemed like his uncle knew him better than himself. Within the next couple of seconds, their lips connected, their eyes closed as they felt each other. His hand went under Daemon’s shirt trying to pull it off. 

But they pulled away before it went too far. The night was still far too young for them to do this. Y/n’s mood turned bitter and Daemon saw it clear as the blood of the dragon that burned through his veins. The air around had changed, just waiting for one of them to make the move.

“Careful nephew, your father may take me for treason.” Daemon teased.

“It’s not treason if I am the crown.” Y/n countered. 

“Your bitterness is showing. Are you that jealous that I gave your sister the attention and not you?” 

Y/n sneered as he heard that. “My father doesn’t pay attention to me unless it’s for lessons. My mother is dead, my sister is always elsewhere, you only have eyes for Rhaenyra, my new stepmother is awkward to talk to, and my half-brother can’t even talk. Any more questions?” He smiled mockingly.

Daemon was amused by his nephew’s words, though he nodded nonetheless knowing that was the reality and truth. 

“Then I can give you the attention you crave, but only if you ask.”

“You better. Otherwise I am going to tell father to exile you again.”

“Don’t be bitter dear nephew, you have all my attention now.”

[desideriumwriter]

hi! i saw you opened your requests and i have one :) i love fred, and i love angst even more. however, most of the angsty fred fics rotate around his death, which yes, it definitely hurts, but i'm looking for something else. i'm a sucker for unrequited love, maybe the reader could be pining after fred and he doesn't reciprocate the feelings or something along those lines. the only particular i'd like is hufflepuff!reader, other than that it's all up to you.

i love love love your writing, thank you in advance 💖💖💖

YES god yes, we all know i'll be on my hands and knees for any sort of angst, plus i've been thinking of writing one of these for awhile now. anyways, i hope you enjoy this lil blurb <3

wc: 682

“Something on your mind?” Fred’s voice ripped you from your daze as he began to walk beside you.

“Nope, nothing.” You shook your head reassuringly. Hoping he wouldn’t be able to see through your facade.

He did.

“Come on, you’ve been staring off into space.” He nudged you playfully, a small smile appeared on your face.

“Just thinking.” You shrugged and shook your head.

“Just thinking about what?” You mimicked your mumbled tone.

“It’s nothing!” You let out a breathy laugh, Fred stopped and stood in front of you.

“It’s something.” He grabbed your shoulders, his touch made it feel like there were fireworks bursting in your stomach.

“And you’re going to tell me.” He squeezed, tilting his chin down slightly to look you in the eyes. 

You sighed as you tried to decide if you should tell him the truth or come up with a lie he wouldn’t believe. It was a shitty shot in the dark, and you were going to take it.

“You.” The word came out muttered, yet Fred was still able to catch it.

“Me? Why me?” He smirked, removing his hands from your shoulders and crossing them over his chest.

"Because you're funny, and you know how to get me out of a mood." You fiddled with your yellow tie, not knowing what to do with your hands. “And you’re super smart and talented, you know how to make all these insane potions, you don’t care how others see you or if you get in trouble,” Your eyes darted around, looking everywhere but his face. You didn’t know where you were trying to go with this, but you continued on. 

“You’re charismatic and super handsome.” You sighed, you should quit talking now and cut this conversation short.

“And I just really like you Fred…I’m in love with you.” You scoffed in disbelief at yourself, by the time you were able to finally look at him, the smile had ranaway from his face. 

He said your name softly, pitfully. You both knew what was coming next.

“Look, I like you too. You’re a really great friend, you’re brilliant even.” He began, your gaze fell to the floor. 

You felt like an idiot, you felt humiliated.

You’ve been pining after him for so long, and now it feels like a moment of confidence has just ruined it all. You wanted to do so many things at this moment, you wanted to run, you wanted to kiss him, you wanted to slap yourself, you wanted to burst into tears.

Fred bit down on his bottom lip as his brows knit together, he was searching for the words.

“You’re talented and smart. And it’s kind of you to think of me like that, but...” He let out an awkward sigh, it felt like the ground was crumbling beneath your feet. 

 "I'm sorry, I just..I don't see you that way. I can’t say that I feel the same.” He gave you a tucked in smile.

A small, barely audible “oh” escaped past your lips. You nodded and tried to blink away the tears that were building up in your eyes.

It was quiet. So quiet and the look of sympathy on his face only made you feel worse.

“Well, uh, I better get going.” Your voice wavered, you tried your best to collect yourself. “I’ve got some papers to finish.” You sniffled and pushed past Fred, your steps speeding up as you walked down the corridor.

Fred called out your name once more, causing you to stop, you took a deep breath before you turned to face him.

“I really am. Sorry. I didn’t mean to lead you on.”

“No, it’s not your fault. I shouldn’t have misinterpreted our friendship.” You gave a weak smile through watery eyes, turning away and continuing down the corridor.

Fred stood there, rubbing the back of his neck in guilt as he watched you quickly escape. George came out of his hiding spot from behind one of the stone pillars, giving his brother a rough pat on the back.

“Congrats mate, you’ve broken her heart.”

tell me what you thought!

[nhlclover]

drunken | rutger mcgroarty

summary: after going over your limit, your boyfriend has to come and pick you up.

request: yes / no

warnings: drinking, teensy tiny bit of angst

a/n: wrote this instead of studying for my exams... also I'm testing out writing from a different pov not sure how i feel about it

word count: 0.9k

The night started with a promise to yourself that you would stick to your limit of at most four shots and a beer or two. However, with the excitement of it being your friend's birthday and free drinks coming left and right, you had well exceeded that limit.

At 1 am Camilla, the most sober of your group, decided that you guys should go home and get a head start on sobering up. She dragged you and your other drunk friends outside, planting you on the curb. Camilla grabbed your phone, calling your top contact.

Rutger was awoken by his phone ringing from the nightstand, his screen illuminating the whole room. He looked at it, seeing your contact photo on the screen. He pressed the answer button, only for his ear to be filled with shrieks and laughter, followed by a scolding voice.

“Hello?” He asks.

“Rutger?” A voice asked.

Rutger furrowed his brows at the unfamiliar voice coming in the place of what should’ve been his girlfriend’s. “Who’s this?” He asked.

“It’s Camilla!” She shouts. Rutger connects the dots, now recognizing the voice of your friend. “Don’t worry, y/n is fine she just — bitch I told you to sit on the curb we are not going back in the bar!”

Rutger chuckles to himself, knowing she was probably yelling at you. “Sorry, um she just had a little too much to drink and she was supposed to take an Uber home but I don’t want to send her alone. Is there any way you could come and get her?” Camilla asked.

Rutger was out of bed in an instant. “Yeah of course. Can you guys stay with her till I get there?” He asked. Camilla says of course, as Rutger pulls up the location of your phone.

15 minutes later, Rutger’s familiar car is pulling up next to the curb in front of you. He hops out of the car, seeing you sitting next to one of your friends, your head resting on her shoulder. When you spot him, your head shoots up and you scramble to your feet.

“Hey babe.” He chuckles, catching you as you step off the curb.

“What’re you doing here?” You ask, your words slurring together.

“I’m gonna drive you home.” He says. Rutger spots your heels and purse on the ground, grabbing them as you were about to forget them. “Babe, can you put your heels on I don’t want you to hurt yourself.”

You keep trying to walk to the car, despite your lack of shoes. Rutger grabs a hold of your waist, picking you up off the ground. You squeal, gripping his shoulder and kicking your feet. “Y/n, baby, stop squirming.” Rutger said, tightening his grip on your hips.

“Byeeeeee!” You shout over his shoulder to your friends who await their own Uber.

Rutger opens the passenger door, placing you in his passenger seat and handing you your belongings. He thanks your friends before climbing in the driver's seat and pulling onto the street. You crank the volume of the radio, The Weeknd filling the car and rattling the base. Glancing over at your boyfriend, you looked at him adoringly. His face was briefly illuminated by passing cars and streetlamps.

“God you’re so pretty!” You shout over the music. “I am so so so in love with you.”

He chuckles, shaking his head at your drunk rambling.

“I think we should just go to Vegas and get married, right now.” You suggest. Rutger looks over at your face, which indicates that you’re serious, causing him to let out a loud laugh. “Rut, I’m serious.”

“I think that you're really drunk right now and I don't think you're going to remember any of this.” He says.

“I'm not drunk.” You pout, crossing your arms over your chest. “You're just super blurry right now.”

He laughs once more, causing you to laugh as well. A few minutes later, you guys pull into the driveway, Rutger getting out immediately to come to help you inside the house. He grabbed your shoes and your purse, taking you by the hand and walking inside.

“Let’s go get ready for bed, hm?” Rutger suggests.

As soon as you get into your bedroom, you flop down on the bed. Rutger grabs you a t-shirt from his drawer and some sweatshorts, urging you to change into them.

“Did I tell you how much I love you?” You ask him, taking the clothes.

“You did.” He nods.

Rutger helps you out of your mini-skirt and out of your mesh top. He slips his shirt over your head, a bit of makeup rubbing off on the hem, and helps you step into the shorts. You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him in for a kiss, albeit a sloppy one due to your drunken state. He pulls away a little quicker than normal, putting you on your side of the bed.

You frown at this. “Am I annoying you?” You ask him.

He turns to you a small smile on his face. “Not at all, baby.” He says, planting a soft kiss on your cheek.

“Are you sure?”

“100%.” He reassures you, climbing into his side of the bed. He removes his glasses and puts them on his side table

“I feel like I’m being annoying though.” You frown, pulling your knees into your chest. “Are you sure I’m not annoying you?”

“If you keep asking I’m going to get annoyed real fast.” Rutger said under his breath, but loud enough that you heard it.

Small tears began to fall down your cheeks. A small sniffle made Rutger flip over and face you, seeing your eyes welling with tears.

“Baby, baby, I’m sorry.” He said. He snakes his arms around you, pulling you into his torso. “That was mean. I’m sorry love.”

He kisses the side of your head, resting his chin on your shoulder

“So I wasn’t being annoying?” You ask again.

“A little.” He admits. “But even when you’re annoying me I still love you.”

[cutestbow]

Notes: this blurb is apart of an au

:finally continuing their time at the lake house since I stopped to write about them when they were younger!!

Warnings: suggestive, slight cursing, unedited

Penelope didn’t know how many drinks in she was, she lost the girl she was dancing with hours ago, and she was on the verge of blacking out in the middle of the room

Luke and some of the other umich boys decided to go to party one of their friends were hosting, Luke had begged Jack and Quinn to just have one at their house but of course he was immediately turned down by both of the brothers

and who was he to say penelope couldn’t come along, so that’s what led you up to this moment, Everytime she closed her eyes she felt like they wouldn’t have opened again

She vaguely remembered mark telling her to go easy after her second drink, did she listen, obviously not

Penelope stumbled into a random room not even bothering to knock, looking back she should of because she walked right in on a guy leaning over the sink, obviously not being able to picture who it was she walked over to him deciding it was the best choice

“Are you ok?” She asked putting a hand on his shoulder

Luke had been beer drunk which rarely happened because he was always a light drinker, but when your with someone like Ethan, drinking lightly isn’t a option

he groaned wiping a hand over his face, he was supposed to be the DD.

he hoped mark or someone had drank lightly because he didn’t think he’d trust himself behind the wheel

he didn’t even pay attention to the bathroom door barging open, assuming it was Ethan trying to force him back out into the mosh pit he had created

so of course when he a felt a hand slide onto his back his eyes shot open

“Penny?” he slurred in a confusing tone

“oh Luke it’s you” she laughed, sliding her hand to his bicep

“Why’s your face red” she asked furrowing her eyebrows

“Ethan” he said leaning against the wall

“I’m drunk too, I think?” she nodded turning to stand infront of him

silence took over for a moment, Luke took that as a time to examine her, she wore a strapless top that rarely covered anything, something luke noticed before they had left the lake house

“Is this new” he asked reaching out messing with the fabric of the top

“How many times are you gonna ask that Hughes?, you trying to buy it for your girlfriend” she said, the words “girlfriend” slipping out before she could stop them

Luke furrowed his eyebrows at that, “girlfriend?” He questioned

Penelope felt her self sober up just the slightest by her slip up, “that girl you were with the other day at the lake house?” she spoke

“that’s not my girlfriend Penny, she was just some girl a met weeks prior to that, I didn’t want her.” He shook his head pushing himself off the wall

Penelope had never been a bold person, but the alcohol coursing through her body in that moment said other wise

“Then who do you want?” she asked in a quiet tone

if you were to ask Penelope she’d say it all happened so fast, one minute Luke standing infront of her the next he was wrapping his hand around the back of her neck smashing their lips together in a kiss so rough she almost melted, and the twisted thing about it was that she was kissing back

Luke’s hand had traveled to the back of her thighs lifting her up onto the counter they had backed into

Penelope gasped when he bit her lip, giving him a chance to slide his tongue past her teeth

Luke’s had slid up her torso cupping her breast and messaging the hardened bud through the thin fabric of her top, earning a breathy moan from her

Luke grinned burying his face in her neck now leaving kisses there

the door barged open for the second time that night revealing a very drunk Ethan causing both Penny and Luke to pull away quickly

Ethan gasped pointing in their direction, “Luke and Penelope are making out in the bathroom!” He yelled

“Hey Luke we’re leaving now, marks driving”he slurred leaning on the door

Penelope and luke still being to shocked and flustered to comprehend what was going on still stood in there previous spot, so even if theytried to lie they couldn’t

“Oh- ok” Penelope stuttered, hopping off the counter stumbling past Ethan

Luke watched her leave, his mind obviously being to fogged up to even react to what just happened

“I fucking knew it” Ethan said once Luke walked past him

Luke shoved ethans hand away that patted his back, the seven beers Luke had finally catching up to him randomly, giving him a pulsing headache

[cosmitton]

seeing a cute boy outside of a restaurant at night

Johan Seong x F!Reader (foreigner)

A/N: I haven’t written in so long and this is the first thing I’ve ever written for Lookism, so I’m nervous lol. The reader in this is described to be a foreigner, but I don’t describe what she looks like, so I hope that’s okay. She’s based off of one of my Lookism OCs but I thought it’d be better to write it as a Reader instead. I also won’t be using (Y/N) or anything like that bc I think it takes away from the flow of the writing/dialogue. Also, I think this takes place a little after the God Dog arc where Johan’s on his own again.

It’s not really romantic in this, but I’m thinking of making this a sort of series of one shots with this Reader specifically. Please lmk if Johan is OOC, bc I’m not confident in writing him haha. Anyways, hope you enjoy! c:

The nights are still cold at this time of year in Seoul. Not that you can really feel it at this point from where you are, starting the process of cleaning up and closing the restaurant. After having been cooped up in the small kitchen in the back of the hole-in-the-wall building you work at, finally done cooking after several hours, the space is well and truly stuffy by now. You were even a bit sweaty, in contrast to the people you can see pass by the windows outside that are trying to stay bundled up against the wind chill.

“Alright,” your boss walks into the back to join you, “you’ve been holed up in here long enough, I’ll take care of this. You go deal with the front.”

As if it’s ingrained in his mind as instinct, he swats at your back with the hand towel he grabs before you can protest that you can do it yourself and he should rest. You laugh slightly at the older man, deciding that you’re too tired anyway to argue with him right now.

You leave behind what you were working on to go out into the front of house in order to count down the register and go about cleaning and packing up the floors and tables. You work silently, comforted by the sound of your boss cleaning in the back and the distant hum of life filtering in from behind the windows and locked door.

“Mr. Terrence,” you call as you walk toward the back doors, “I’ll take the trash out now.”

“Thanks, kid.” He replies as you grab the black bags in both hands.

It’s as you walk outside, hit by the cold and slightly regretting not grabbing your jacket first, that you see him. A slim, brown-haired boy sitting by the mouth of the alley between your workplace and the building next door. He’s curled up like he’s trying to hide, in a way, with his knees drawn up tight and facing slightly away from you. When you glance over at what he’s looking at, you see two small dogs not far from him.

You try not to stare as you pass by, but it is weird to you. There’s not usually anyone out here, especially at this time of night and in this weather – and if there is, they’re usually not here for any good reason. It’s not your business, you try to remind yourself, and you can’t afford to be getting caught up in anything bad that might be happening.

Although, that doesn’t seem right, either. This boy is just sitting alone on the ground, watching – presumably – his two dogs and still hasn’t even looked up at you. He doesn’t seem the type to be here for any salacious reason, which makes the only other conclusion that comes to your mind much more heartbreaking – he’s here because he has nowhere else to go. You could be wrong, but the way he was dressed (yes, he had a jacket, but not thick enough for this cold) and had only his dogs and a single backpack sat at his side just hit your instincts in a certain way. You couldn’t see his face, but he looked slim – probably not starving, but clearly not eating as much as you preferred for a young person to be eating. (Distantly, you think about how Mr. Terrence would make fun of you for thinking this despite the fact that you are also a “young person”.) His dogs also looked skinny, and even if you didn’t care about this boy, you couldn’t in good conscience let animals go without food.

With that thought, you made up your mind and quickly threw away the trash and made your way back into the restaurant to head straight toward the kitchen.

“Mr. Terrence,” your boss jumped as you burst back into the room again, “sorry. I was wondering if you finished packing everything up?”

“Nearly there,” the older man watched as you scuttled about the kitchen to grab a to go box from under the counter and start filling it with food. “Oh, no,” he scoffs lightly, “not another stray. If you keep feedin’ ‘em, they’ll keep comin’ back expectin’ more.”

“A stray and his strays, yeah.” You continue, ignoring his scoff because you know he could stop you if he was really that bothered by it.

“What?”

“Some guy and his dogs.”

“Ohhh~” you don’t need to look up to face him, because you can hear the smug smile in his voice, “a boy, huh~? No wonder you’re so eager.”

You resist the urge to fling some of the food at him, “shut up. You know it isn’t like that.”

He’s already stopped listening to you, having made up his mind about your intentions, “uh-huh, sure.”

You don’t bother to reply, finished with packing up the to go box now and not trying to play his games. You make your way back toward the doors, hoping the boy and his dogs hadn’t left already. He’s still there, thankfully, when you get outside – again regretting that you forgot to grab your jacket, but somehow remembered to grab the dog treats you keep in your bag for any stray you might come across – and still not looking up. You make your way over to the boy with your shoulders hiked up in a weak attempt to shield yourself against the wind, trying to walk around into his sight so that you don’t sneak up on him.

One of his dogs notices you first, a little thing with pink ears, and seems to watch your approach cautiously. The boy notices and whips his head around immediately, as if he was trying to catch you, and you pause for a moment at the way he looks at you like you might be a threat. He looks to be around your age, with a pretty face and puppy eyes, but he scowls at you in a way that makes him seem older – weathered and weary from past experience. Oof, you think as you try to figure out how best to approach him, a standoffish one, then.

“Hey,” you greet lightly, “sorry to bother you. I work at this restaurant and I was wondering if you wanted to take these leftovers off my hands so we don’t have to waste them by throwing them away.”

You don’t actually have to throw away the leftovers, of course, but you’re banking on him not knowing that because he seems like the type to not take handouts unless it’s phrased as if he’d be doing you a favor instead. Before the boy can answer, though, the dog with pink ears walks up to you first. You kneel down to its level, putting your hand out to let it sniff you before you try to pet it.

“Hi, puppy~!” You can’t help the high-pitched baby voice you use to talk to animals, it’s instinct at this point and you refuse to feel embarrassed about it.

The other white dog that’s wearing a sweater is still hanging back, looking like it’s shivering, but you can’t tell if that’s from the cold or if that’s just natural. You set the to go box down beside you, petting the pink-eared dog with one hand while you wrestle the dog treats out of your pocket with the other. The pup is fully excited now, tail wagging so hard that it’s almost throwing the dog off its feet, while you feed the treats to it, eagerly.

You realize that you pretty much forgot about the boy when his voice makes you jump, “her name is Miro.”

You look over, and he doesn’t seem to be scowling at you anymore, just watching you interact with his dog – still cautious, but not threatened.

“She’s cute,” you smile, “and your other dog?”

“He’s Eden.”

“Can I give him some treats?”

“He doesn’t like strangers much.”

“Well,” you shift slightly, waiting for permission to approach, “I’ll give them to you and you can give them to him, then.”

“Why?” He’s suspicious again - not in the same way that others here are when they see your face and know you’re an outsider - and you recognize it and it breaks your heart for him. (It seems a bit ridiculous for you to hurt for him, given that you don’t know him at all, but you do because you’ve seen it before and you know it at your core.)

“Because they deserve it. They all do.” You mean his dogs, specifically, but you also mean him and every other person like him.

He watches you for a moment more, and you let him, but he doesn’t respond verbally – just shrugs and makes the smallest movement of his head to nod. You grab the to go box again, dog treats in the other hand, and rise to move toward him. He rises too, probably more comfortable with being at eye level than sitting – just in case. Miro is following at your feet, and you stop with a bit of distance between yourself and the boy. You hand him the dog treats first, glancing at Eden shaking a bit behind him, and he stuffs them into the pocket of his jacket. You try to hand him the to go box and that’s when he becomes suspicious again – obvious when you look him in the eye.

“I know it might be an inconvenience, but it’d really help if you could take these. It just seems like such a waste if we have to toss them.” He doesn’t believe you, you know he doesn’t just by how he looks at you, but neither of you are going to say it aloud.

He stares at you for a moment again, seeming to battle in his mind over whether to take it or not, but the hunger that you’re sure he’s feeling seems to win out. He takes it from you and, despite how reluctant he was to accept it in the first place, he immediately holds it close to him and slightly away from you as if you’re going to snatch it back.

You want to say more, but you’re not sure what and you don’t really have any more reason to since you accomplished what you came out here for. You think to ask his name and give him yours, but you feel like you might be pushing him with that. So, with nothing else that you can come up with, you start to back away.

“Thanks,” you smile at him again and look down at Miro and Eden, “bye puppies~!”

You think anything else would bother him, so with one last glance at the boy – who seems to be waiting for you to leave before he goes on with whatever his plans are – you fully turn back to the restaurant and go inside. You wish you had gotten his name, or had some way of checking up on him and Eden and Miro again just to make sure they’d be okay, but you just have to accept that it’s left up to fate now.

Who knows, you might meet him again one day.

[ratmonky]

Devoted Innocence

word count: 9.2k

warnings: manipulation, gaslighting, bullying, stalking, alcohol, corruption, jealousy

ao3 link

chapter 1/2

finally it is here, nanami's coi sequel! i hope you guys enjoy it I'm so excited!! let me know your thoughts!! this chapter is a bit tame since it's the base of the story but i hope i did good!!

“What are you doing out here this late, Nanami?”

Nanami gazed blankly up at Gojo’s face. He exhaled the last bit from his cigarette before speaking, “Same goes out to you.”

Gojo scoffed and stood next to Nanami who was sitting on a bench by their old dorm. “I just got finished with work,” he answered. 

 Nanami reached his pocket to grab a cigarette but he had already finished his last packet. Shit. He had to sit here just talking then. Lame. “What do you want?” he asked, trying to sound dismissive. 

“Brings back memories,” Gojo abruptly said, swaying his head back towards the night sky. “We would all hang out here and smoke.”

Nanami hummed, he did remember. Their smoke corner was here, the bench was put up here after they all had graduated. He used to smoke standing or sitting on a large rock here with Geto and Shoko and also…

“I wonder what she’s doing,” Gojo sighed with a dreamy smile, watching the moon. “I miss being young and careless.”

“You are still careless,” Nanami said but he didn’t comment on what he said. As if he was waking up from a nightmare, he saw a memory abruptly pop up in his mind. He crumbled the cigarette packet in his hands.

Gojo must have noticed this because he was grinning. “You could also still be careless.”

“We’re not kids anymore,” Nanami sighed audibly. 

“We weren’t kids back then either,” Gojo said. 

That was true. It didn’t matter how much Nanami wished the opposite. There was no need for him to frown and curse at his coworker. However, he was different from them. Gojo and Geto were the ones at fault.

Nanami was quiet for a while.

“Anyway,” he groaned while stretching his arms over his head, getting ready to get up from the bench. “Need to head back home soon. My nurse is waiting for me.”

Nanami was still surprised about that. The school nurse in Kyoto was pretty but it was hard to believe that Gojo was moving on from the past.

“I’m taking her out this Wednesday.” Gojo stood up, stretching his legs now, getting ready to teleport. “You should come.”

“No, thanks.” Nanami had his eyes on Gojo’s face, studying his expressions. 

“Your loss,” Gojo snickered and waved at him. “Goodnight-”

Nanami didn’t bother to say it back as Gojo’s body disappeared from in front of him. He shoved the crumbled cigarette packet into his pocket and decided it was time to go home.

It was unfair that he was still living in the past. Everyone was moving on but him. He had heard from Gojo that Geto…

Nevermind.

~~~

Today he ordered a double-shot espresso while he was reading through the documents he was assigned. The place was never crowded, naturally, the only noise would be coming from the coffee machines and the cutlery, which was the perfect white noise for him since he enjoyed doing his work at this coffee shop. However, with each page he turned, the more complicated the paperwork became and he found himself drinking his second double-shot espresso. Rubbing the bridge of his nose, he slowly lifted his head from the paperwork and stared out of the cafe window. 

The street was cozy to look at, and watching the people walking past was fun. There were so many differences between each person, whether it be their style, face, or hair. It was just so fascinating that the world was full of so many people yet he could only imagine the face of someone he met in Jujutsu High.

He clicked his tongue and took a sip from his coffee to ease himself. His eyes then landed on someone who was sitting outside in front of his table. You were holding a big book, he could see that you were moving your hand on it. Maybe you were writing? He had never been a nosy person but he found himself moving his head to see what you were doing.

The first thing he noticed was that you were drawing. The second thing he noticed was that you were drawing the person sitting a little further at the front. Nanami looked up from the drawing to the man, he was an ordinary salaryman but there was a flyhead on his shoulder. He returned his gaze to the drawing and tilted his head just right to see the entire drawing.

The flyhead was in the drawing too. 

Nanami chuckled to himself, it wasn’t every day that he met random people who could see curses. He wanted to ignore you but you put your sketchbook down and walked inside. At first, he got a little surprised and had a small moment thinking that you had noticed him but you were here just to order another drink.

Without realizing he got up from his table to order something too, standing behind you and watching you drool over some strawberry cake that was on display. He wasn’t earning enough to offer to buy you a cake and nevertheless, you were a total stranger. He was only observing you right now, watching your eyes read through the menu to find something to order. When the person in front of you in line finally moved, you smiled at the worker and Nanami felt like someone threw boiling water on his face. He got hit with flashbacks of the past, the same smile he had seen so many times yet not enough times was right in front of him right now. The same bright innocent smile.

He could hear his own heartbeat and feel each droplet of sweat forming on his forehead, he could only see you in his world. With anticipation, he watched you open your mouth to speak. He was all ears now.

“I’d like to have today’s special with this-” You pointed at the strawberry cake on display. “Please!”

The worker asked about the usual stuff, things like if you would like extra syrup or cream in your coffee. You shook your head instead of talking. You had this cute aura oozing out of you, someone so sincere and innocent-

Nanami balled his hands into fists, stabbing his palms with his nails to snap out of it. When the worker asked him what he would like to order, he mumbled his words. “Filter coffee with cream.”

“It’ll be served right there,” he informed and Nanami moved to the small counter to pick up what he ordered. You were standing next to him, gently bouncing on your heels. He heard you humming very softly to a song he had never heard before. It took him every single rational thought he had to not stare you down and keep quiet. 

He wasn’t a kid anymore.

He wasn’t a kid back then either…

No, he was a grown man now.

This wasn’t like back then, he was a grown man now. He was at that age where every one of his actions had consequences, he was responsible if someone got hurt. He wasn’t a stupid eighteen-year-old like before.

Yet he knew he was still seeking that thrill of being able to control someone fully. Every time he closed his eyes, he remembered a certain person, someone who was so gullible yet sweet, someone he knew to be his only obsession. 

Ever since he had graduated, he had been looking for someone similar, someone to be corrupted by his sinful hands. Sins that were overflowing from his hands would paint their bright future black, he would rip off their wings so they could never escape. 

Unlike what he did back then.

Thankfully, he got his order first and was able to leave you alone as soon as he could. He was going insane. Was he even himself? Gojo had gotten to his head that night. How dare he move on? He was the one who had forced him into the whole thing and then as soon as they graduated it was gone. They left Nanami. He knew they were still toying with her after they had graduated, he knew that they continued to share her for as long as they could before it ended.

He never asked and he didn’t want to know. But he was angry. He never got to f- He never managed to say goodbye. He never even got to see her smile.

Today, he did.

No, that wasn’t her. 

You had the same bright smile. The same joyous tone in your voice and the same adorable gestures. 

Nanami’s thoughts got interrupted when he saw you take your place on your table again. The salaryman was gone but your drawing was finished. You looked around as if to decide what to draw.

That was when you looked behind and locked eyes with Nanami. He was caught off guard. You beamed at him and waved as if to apologize for the awkward eye contact. He wasn’t sure what he looked like to you at that moment but he felt his blood run colder as he smiled back. He could feel the connection.

To you, it had been a simple momentary glance, he knew because you turned around like nothing happened and started drawing a couple sitting on a bench across the street. He tried working and the more he forced himself the more worried he got that you would leave when he wasn’t looking. 

You were there every time he looked up. Your sketchbook got fuller and fuller with sketches of random people. He smiled and got a refill, hoping to watch you a while longer. When he was back, you were gone.

That night Nanami couldn’t sleep. 

He let his hand move under his boxers like he did every other night when he couldn’t sleep. Stroking his cock slowly, he closed his eyes. The scenario was always the same. He was in his room with her and drinking. They were smiling at each other and she was being all cute. He would tell her something that would make her blush, she would get shy and stutter like she did when she got flustered. He would grab her by the chin, kiss her hard, and undress her. She would put her hands on his chest, and try to push him away because “It’s embarrassing, Nanami.” He would move his lips to her chest, kissing and sucking on her tits until he could feel the wetness of her panties. She would press her legs together because she was always so shy about having sex. She was so pure. He would fuck her hard until she cried until she could only mumble out his name, and until he made her his. He wanted to mark her as his so nobody else could have her. He would look at her face and... And- 

Nanami opened his eyes, he didn’t remember her face.

He got all hot and sweaty. 

Closing his eyes, he forced himself to remember and continued rubbing his cock hastily. He was close but he would go into the bathroom to finish soon. 

Her face was all blurry, her smile was the same and her voice only got cuter. Her face formed into yours. Your half-lidded eyes filled with tears looked up at him, your lips parted, “Nanami, please.”

Nanami came abruptly, he was out of breath as the image of you was burned into his mind. He couldn’t even worry about getting his sheets and boxers dirty, all he could think about was you. He knew he would never see you again and he hoped that would be the case because he didn’t know what he would do if he saw you again.

~~~

“Oh, and Suguru says hi!” Gojo chirped as Nanami organized the paperwork on the desk. He had been aimlessly talking and talking even though Nanami was refusing to talk to him. “He wants you to come over sometime! Like a reunion, you know! Shoko was there this weekend and it was fun.”

No answer. 

“Pipsqueak asked about you.”

Nanami’s body froze, hands trembling. “What did she say?” he asked in a calm tone.

Gojo smirked, “I lied.”

There was a violent silence that filled the office room. 

“But it would be nice to see her again, in your dorm room, right? Just like the first time?” Gojo’s voice was distant.

Nanami glared at him, where did this idiot get the confidence to talk like this?

“Admit it, you wish you could have been a part of it for longer. If only you weren’t on such a high horse, she’d give you the attention you sought.” Gojo grabbed Nanami by the shoulder, “Maybe even forgive you for all the times you hurt her. Maybe if you took me and Suguru’s advice and learned from us, you could have gotten away with anything you did to her.”

“Shut up,” Nanami hissed, his eyes were wide. He could feel his body heat rising, he was getting angry and he could hurt someone. Specifically Gojo.

“You ruined everything for yourself by trying to ruin it for us. What did she do in the end? You remember?”

Nanami abruptly stood up and grabbed Gojo while raising his fist to punch him but before his fist could come in contact with his smug face he jolted awake in his bed. He was out of breath, his jaw hurting from possibly when he was clenching it during his sleep, and sweaty. 

With a soft curse spilling from his lips, he sat up on his bed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. What a way to start another miserable day. 

~~~

The heavy door of his office room opened with a loud creak, turning all of Nanami’s attention to the expected guests. He got up from his desk and fixed his suit to greet Ijichi coming in to introduce his new Jujutsu Sorcerer partner.

“Ijichi,” he greeted but his composure almost faltered when he saw a shorter figure behind him. It was…

“Hi!” you bowed, giving him a polite smile. “I’m (name).”

Ijichi smiled, “Mr. Nanami, (name) will be in your care.”

Nanami’s mouth felt dry as he tried to school his brain back online. He wasn’t sure as to what to do or act like. You of all people… You were going to be his-

“Let’s get along well,” you chirped, reaching your hand out to him.

He looked at your hand and then up at your face before giving you a handshake. “Nice to meet you.” The handshake lasted longer than a regular one but he made sure to keep it professional, he had been caught off guard but it wouldn’t happen again. 

You were still smiling, nodding at whatever Ijichi had to say about you and your sorcerer grade. Nanami’s eyes didn’t leave you for a second, staring at your smile was enough to make him sweat and shiver in anticipation all at the same time.

“That is all,” Ijichi bowed, “I’ll be leaving now, please don’t work too hard!”

“Bye-bye!” you smiled, waving him goodbye as Nanami collected a file from his desk. “So,” you turned around on your heels, still grinning, “Nanami, what do you say to giving me a tour around Jujutsu High?”

He paused for a moment and put the file down instead of checking if the report was complete. That could help the two of you warm up to each other, he could do that. “Sure. Jujutsu High is close to us.”

You clapped your hands together, “Amazing! I’ve never been to the Jujutsu High in Tokyo. I’ve heard so many great things, you’ve gone to school here, right?”

Nanami led the way, walking in front of you and out of his office. “Yes, I have.”

“How was it?” you asked, catching up to him and walking beside him. 

Not a second passed but Nanami got lost within two years of his youth. The second year was full of her and his third year had been- “Well. Principal Yaga is an exceptional teacher.”

“Oh, I see!” you smiled, eyes looking around the garden he led you to. 

The campus was huge and he gave you a wonderful tour. Showing inside the classrooms and even the large library. 

He was done with the tour in an hour, his stories of the place were short and only about the classes. This was where he first executed a curse, that was the first cursed tool he used and there was the training dummy he had broken. Memories of his academic years.

“What about that building?” You pointed at the large building with two floors. 

He looked at the building and his lips formed a frown. “That’s the student dormitory.” 

“I’d like to see it too!” You started walking by yourself and didn’t look behind you to see if Nanami was following you.

He stood where he was. He didn’t want to go inside. He didn’t want to walk those hallways again and he didn’t want to see the traces of his youth there.

“You coming or what?” You turned around, beaming at him with such bright joy. 

He found himself unable to resist your smile, your peppy personality, and he wanted to corrupt any joy you had ever felt and would ever feel. 

He took a step forward and your smile only got brighter. “Don’t make a lady wait, Nanami.”

He scoffed at that, shaking his head. You were ridiculous but not as much as Gojo. He could tolerate you.

You waited until he was next to you and then started walking again with a proud puff of your chest. The dormitory was empty when you two got inside.

“Students are on a field trip with their teacher, I think the tour will be faster this way.” Nanami walked inside the common room, it didn’t look any different from what it looked like before. The TV was a newer model and the broken coffee decanter was gone. Now they owned a better one. He showed you the small library and the laundry room. 

Then the pictures on the walls of the common room. Every single graduation picture was taken at the end of the school year. 

“Where’s yours?” you asked, smiling as you looked around. 

He felt a tinge of sorrow as his finger tapped on a picture frame. 

Your smile faltered momentarily as you looked at the picture of Nanami and him only in the graduation picture. He was the only graduate from his class and he looked dreadful in the picture, glaring at the camera while holding a bouquet and a diploma. 

“That’s horrible, didn’t you have any friends or classmates?” you asked with genuine sympathy. 

“My classmate passed away during our mission in our first year. My other classmate repeated the first year. I had my upperclassmen but we weren’t exactly close.” He tapped on the picture frame that came before his picture.

It was a picture of the golden duo. Gojo and Geto. Shoko and she was there too. The girl was between the two guys while Shoko was lying on the ground in front of them all with the bouquets. She was grinning from ear to ear while she was showing off her diploma to the camera. The other girl was making peace signs with a hand and she was holding her diploma with the other. Gojo and Geto both had an arm draped over the girl. Gojo had his diploma folded in his school jacket and he was kissing the girl’s cheek next to him while he was holding his sunglasses up. Geto was squeezing the girl’s cheeks together with his free hand and his diploma was tucked under his arm.

“They look very close,” you said, eyes on the girl in the middle, taking all of the attention. “Sad that you didn’t get to graduate with them.”

“Yeah,” he mumbled. “They are all very close.”

You must have realized he was drowning in misery because you moved on. “Show me your old room!” you giggled.

He stumbled on his words but didn’t refuse. He led you down the hallway of the first floor of the dormitory and opened the door to an empty room. Nobody was staying in this room right now so he didn’t feel like he was intruding. 

You gasped, “It’s bigger than I expected!” Walking up to the bed, you sat on the mattress and grinned while looking around. 

“I spent most of my time in here, reading and studying.” He realized your eyes were fixated on something.

“What’s that?” you asked, still smiling.

He followed your stare and found himself looking at a blood stain on the tatami floor. The traces of his sins.

“I don’t know,” he replied because it was the best you didn’t know how he used to have his hand around his cock on the bed you were sitting and stare at that stain to relive the moments of that night.

“Creeepy~” you giggled and stared at him. “Thanks for the tour, I feel like I know you better now, Nanami!”

He nodded languidly, “Sure.”

“Ugh,” you sighed, “Let’s not be so formal, I’d hate to work with you if we don’t become friends. It would definitely make us hate coming to work!” Getting up from the mattress you stood in front of him. “Let’s make sure to get along well!”

He forced a smile, eyes on your beautiful face. “You’re right,” he relented. “Let’s get along well, (name).” 

~~~

Today’s task was to finish the paperwork. This task had always been Nanami’s favorite since as soon as he was finished he could go home but also this meant Gojo piling all of his paperwork on him. 

Yet today he had you. You were excellent at helping him finish all of the reports and check for any mistakes without complaining and instead enjoying the work. 

“Would you like some coffee, Nanami?” you asked as you got up with your empty cup. 

He gave a slight nod and watched you take his cup from the desk before walking out of the office. When he was sure you were out of the room, he leaned back on his chair and sighed, you were so overwhelming in the most beautiful ways. He found himself staring at you when he should have been doing his work, watching your eyelashes flutter and eyes follow the long trail of words printed on paper.

He couldn’t help but notice the small things. The small taps of your finger to fidget and the way your brows furrowed before you lifted your head to ask Nanami something you didn’t quite understand. 

He was lost in it all.

When the door opened again he turned to greet you but Gojo’s stupid face greeted him instead.

“Why are you here?” he grimaced. “I’m too busy, Gojo. Come back tomorrow.”

“I’m not here to see you,” Gojo whined and looked around. “Where’s the fresh meat?”

Nanami’s jaw clenched, and he raised his eyebrows. “Don’t speak like that.”

Gojo scoffed as he closed the door and walked further inside. “Oh, you’re calling dibs?” He let out a chuckle, “That’s a first Nanami~!”

“Knock it off and leave if you-”

“Calm down, I have a clingy girlfriend,” Gojo sighed, shaking his head dramatically. “I’m just joking with you! When did you get all serious?” He paused and grinned, “Ah, you were always serious. My bad!”

“You should leave,” Nanami argued.

Gojo smiled again as he nodded slowly. “I’ll leave after I’ve seen the new pipsqueak,” he said, before breaking into a laugh.

Nanami glared at him but before he could say anything you walked into the room with a tray.

“Ah, you must be the new girl!” the tall man chirped. “I came here to say hi!”

Nanami felt his hackles rising.

You were dumbfounded as Gojo approached you with a grin. “Hi, I’m (name)! And you must be Satoru Gojo.” 

He continued smiling, “Guilty!”

Your brows rose and you stared at Nanami, nervously chuckling, “Is he always this friendly?”

Gojo responded instead, “Only when they’re pretty.”

You blushed faintly and finally moved towards the desk to put the tray down. “Would you want to have something to drink as well?” you asked with a smile.

“He’ll leave soon. We all have work to do,” Nanami’s tone was cold and it made you look at him in question. 

“Yes, how could I forget,” Gojo hit his forehead jokingly, “I need to work! I left the students back in Osaka. I should leave.”

“Travel safe,” you joked. 

“Nice to meet you and see ya! Promise to visit the Jujutsu High a lot!” He let out a laugh and waved at you before disappearing.

As soon as he disappeared you let out a sigh, “He’s way too overwhelming.”

Nanami didn’t look at you or stop reading the file in front of him for a moment. “Exactly, that’s why I don’t like him disturbing me.”

You chuckled, “Do I fall into the same category?”

“It depends,” he shrugged and looked up to take his coffee cup from the tray. He saw that you had brought some pastries too. He took a small piece. “Will you annoy me more than a curse?”

“Sorry, Nanami,” you sighed, grinning. “I’ll be your curse. The worst burden you’ll ever have.”

Nanami rolled his eyes but a scoff escaped his lips. The rest of the passing hours were calm and filled with work. Neither of you complained and he found that peaceful. When it was time to go home he felt a bit sad about it. Yet he still laid awake at night with his hand around his cock, eyes closed while imagining shoving his cock down your throat.

~~~

You were only a coworker. You didn’t ask to drink coffee after work or ask to go to a bar. You always left for home as soon as the work was finished. You didn’t even take Ijichi’s car which made it impossible for Nanami to be able to talk to you. You had your car and you had your things to do in your private time.

Nanami was going insane. He needed to spend more time with you. Outside of work.

~~~

“What are you eating?” you asked with a grin, taking a seat in front of him in the kitchen.

“Curry and rice,” he replied as you were opening your bento box. 

“Hmm, do you cook yourself?”

“I’m able to cook for myself, so yes.” He spoke only after he was done chewing his first bite.

“That’s good! You should cook for me,” you chuckled. “I’m tired of cooking every day to eat. But buying lunch is too expensive so I have to cook.”

He shook his head, “It’d be irresponsible for me to cook for you. It’s your responsibility.”

“Have pity!” you giggled and showed him your plain bento box. “This is the third day in a row I’m eating veggies and rice!”

He snickered at that, lips curling up to a smile as you whined. 

“What is it with men and refusing to help women?” you sighed, speaking to yourself. “You are more than capable to cook for two.”

“Are you incapable of cooking for yourself?” It came out cold but he had been going for a flirty tone. 

“I’m just lazy!” you huffed and returned to your food. “I’ll get a boyfriend and he’ll cook for me then.”

“It’s better to learn how to be a responsible adult,” he said and you shook your head, refusing to listen to his advice. “I don’t cook for others.”

“I’ll eat my shitty meal outside, maybe that will give it some flavor!” you declared with another grin, “I’ll also check if Shoko is up to trading her lunch with me.”

“You’d rather go there?” He let out a disappointed sigh as you left. This building of the professional sorcerers was close to the Jujutsu High because they were sharing paperwork with the school. Gojo didn’t do his paperwork so it was Nanami’s job at some point to write his reports or send them to Kyoto when it became too overwhelming. 

Curses were all at bay nowadays, nothing too dangerous. Especially with Itadori being a sorcerer himself. Gojo was keeping the balance with Geto as always.

Nanami?

He was seen as a kind person. He had never shown a weak side to others, he was pretty stoic but there were certain emotions he could never let out.

He didn’t want the pity of others. 

He liked being seen as a selfless and hardworking man. He didn’t want people, more importantly his coworkers to see his vulnerable self. The selfish alter ego. The one that wanted everything for itself, wanted all the attention on himself. 

His mind tended to remind him of the exact moment when he joined their game. He remembered how that was the only time he felt like-

Nanami wanted to be useful to others to cleanse himself from his past mistakes. He made sure to be a good mentor and a good sorcerer so everyone around him would smile and live a restful life. 

Nevertheless, deep down he was nothing but a mess. 

Nanami was a mess even before he met you but you fueled his fire somehow. He wanted to have you but you didn’t look like you wanted to with him.

Nanami was no good to anyone anyway. He knew that. He was a burden. A curse. He didn’t deserve their attention or time. He was a nobody.

For another ten minutes, he stood in front of the sink, collecting his thoughts while washing the dishes. 

"Up to wash my container?" you asked, walking into the kitchen. 

"No," Nanami said, moving away from the sink. “You are not a kid.”

You pouted and put your dirty container in the sink, glancing at him. “Shoko said you used to help her with cooking. So you do cook for others!”

He paused. 

You noticed the sudden pause and raised a brow, “Caught in a lie, huh?”

Shaking his head, he walked towards the coffee machine. “I’m just surprised she remembers all of that.”

“Oh, was it a long time ago?” you hummed while turning on the sink, grabbing the clean sponge to wash your dishes. “It’s never too old to relive the past, you know!” 

He was quiet for a single moment. He used to help Shoko cook only because Geto and Gojo threw him in the middle. To him, those were just simple memories, not something he would bring up in a conversation. Was Shoko telling you about the past? If so, how much did you know? Did you know about-

“If we can start the fieldwork today, I’ll get you something.” 

You turned off the sink and glanced at him over your shoulder, grinning in mischief, “Cook me something, you mean?”

That broke his composure, he let out a breath through his nose and smiled. You almost made him snort! “Yes, I’ll cook you something,” he replied.

"Let’s finish the paperwork then!" you laughed, the day had barely started but you were too pumped up to get back to work.

"Finish washing the dishes and get to work then," Nanami poured some coffee for himself. 

You turned to the sink and hurriedly washed your dishes. He took this moment to stare at your back, watching the way your shoulders moved and how you stood. You were leaning on the counter and you wouldn’t stay still, shifting your weight from one foot to another. That made your hips move in a way he found hypnotizing. He was now staring at your pants and how well they hugged your ass. 

He broke out of his trance when Shoko entered the kitchen. He could guess that she walked you here. She liked the company of others.

“Hello,” she greeted, an unlit cigarette between her lips. She grinned at Nanami, “The new girl said she was gonna make you cook for her to save money.”

“Hey!” you laughed, “I told you to keep it down!”

Nanami sighed, “I’ll do it once. To be a kind mentor.”

“We’ll see about that,” you mumbled.

“I like this one,” Shoko put her hand on your head, petting your hair. “She’s got quite the personality. I think she’ll brighten you up in no time, Nanami.”

“This is a work environment, we need to keep things professional.” He took a sip from his coffee, “We don’t need another Gojo.”

Shoko scoffed, “Whatever you say. (name) could beat Gojo.”

“I could?” you froze, dropping your clean dishes back on the sink. 

Chuckling, Shoko lightly shoved you in the arm. “She’s so gullible too. You remind me of my best friend.” She had a gentle smile on her face as she looked at you. “God, I wish she was here right now, she was the only person who made Nanami laugh.”

You beamed, “Really?” As you turned your head to look at Nanami, you found him already looking at you. He had a tense look on his face. “Ah, I can imagine him laughing but how did she do that?”

Shoko looked at the ceiling to think, “She was just so gullible. Came from a clan where they kept her away from the real world so she was easy to mess with. I think the boys loved making up things for her to believe. They once convinced her that Turkey was in Africa.”

Your beaming smile died down slightly, “That’s… sad. Did she really believe them about everything?”

“Yeah,” Shoko nodded. “I guess. She didn’t mind them messing with her anyway. She was this cute little pipsqueak. Everyone’s favorite. I think that’s what makes her special. She was so innocent when she came here.”

“That’s enough,” Nanami interfered. “We need to get back to work.”

“He’s right,” Shoko let out a sigh. “We should go somewhere after work. Could be a better option for you to get to know everyone.” She was talking to you and you were nodding with a smile. 

It was decided.

The next hour, you finished all of the paperwork and headed out together in Ijichi’s car since you decided the three of you would go to the bar together. Ijichi was keen on taking the driver role for the sake of letting everyone else drink. You thanked him for his sacrifice and rode in the car with Nanami.

He was happy enough to sit next to you during the entire ride towards the woods. At the location of your first job with Nanami, Ijichi put down a veil while the two of you observed the place.

It was an abandoned and unfinished building. 

“What do you think this curse is?” you asked, stretching your arms and legs. Ijichi approached you to give you your cursed tool from the trunk of the car. It was a sword.

“It is a first grade, maybe a special grade but nothing we can’t handle.” Nanami paused, “Besides, haven’t you read the report? We had all of the information there.”

“I like the way you already count us together,” you chirped, ignoring the last part.

He shook his head.

“I’ll be waiting here,” Ijichi said, bowing his head.

Nanami nodded in acknowledgment and you bowed your head, thanking Ijichi for the ride. When you stood again, you noticed Nanami was already headed towards the building. To catch up with him, you had to jog a little.

“You didn’t even wait for me!” you whined, out of breath.

“You are wasting time, I don’t want to work overtime,” he mumbled as he opened the large metal doors for you and let you walk into the building.

You walked past him with a smile, “Thank you!”

He walked in after you, “I’m surprised you managed to finish all of the paperwork today. Did you really do it for a meal?”

“What do you think?” you winked at him, grinning.

Before Nanami could say something else, a shadowy figure bolted out of the dark corner of the building and forward at full speed toward you. 

He reached for his cursed weapon in fear of your safety but you were able to draw your sword and stopped the blow of the shadow figure. Your sword clashed against the thick skin of the curse with loud ear-scratching noise as if its skin was made of something more solid. 

Nanami jumped back and held his cursed weapon tightly, only for you to attack the curse in full force once again. You managed to slash its flesh and the curse let out a scream. You continued your attack, driving your sword further inside the curse and fueling it with cursed energy to exorcise it. 

You were doing a good job and Nanami was watching you from a safe distance just in case you needed help but you exorcised the curse by yourself. As you were putting your sword away, he smiled, “Good job.”

“Be honest, did I look cool?” you were smirking.

“Should you be looking cool while doing your job?” he asked.

“Ugh!” you whined, rolling your eyes. “Can’t you just have some fun?”

“We’re working,” he sighed. “It’s not exactly fun.”

You groaned in frustration.

“So, are we really done?” you spoke while the two of you began heading out of the building to meet up with Ijichi. “Are we going to the bar now?”

“I would guess so,” he said, cracking his neck. “Good thing we finished early.”

You had a proud smile on your face, “All thanks to me!”

“Yes, thank you,” he smiled.

“I made you smile!” you excitedly pointed at his face, still grinning. “This is great!”

He rolled his eyes. “Did you make a bet with Shoko?”

“No,” you replied and gently poked his arm. “Just with myself!”

Ijichi opened the car door for you while Nanami paused for a second to enjoy the meaning behind your words.

“To the bar?” Ijichi asked once everyone settled into their seats.

“To the bar!” you confirmed.

Although Nanami hated after-work gatherings, he didn’t miss this one. 

The two of you had finished all of your paperwork and started the fieldwork. Shoko had worked overtime because the students getting injured frequently during their training lectures. Gojo had recently gotten a girlfriend. 

It was time to celebrate getting all the work done and more.

The bar Shoko chose was close to the school and was a regular hangout place for sorcerers like you. Ijichi and Akari sat together while chatting, the two didn’t drink any alcohol as the designated drivers. Shoko was smoking while Gojo had all of his attention on you. Nanami sat next to you, observing your manners and wishing Gojo to drop dead. 

“Would you like more sake?” you asked, offering to pour some for Nanami as the waitress came into the private booth with more bottles of sake. 

He let you pour more sake into his cup while Gojo sighed. “I wanna drink too!”

You turned to him, “You told me you didn’t drink earlier?”

He pouted, looking at you over his sunglasses. “I can’t drink in public. Need to be on guard at all times.”

“Boring!” you laughed and poured more sake into your cup. 

“You’re so full of life!” he laughed with you and grinned from ear to ear. “It’s such a shame you’ve been attended to him!”

You shrugged, “I’m pleased to work with Nanami.” You poked his arm, “How about you?”

Nanami was caught a bit off guard, he nodded slowly while lighting his cigarette. “You’re a good partner.”

Your stare stayed on him and after Gojo finally moved on to annoying Ijichi, you spoke to him.

“Is everything alright, Nanami?” 

Nanami took an inhale of his cigarette smoke. “Yes,” he mumbled.

You put a hand on his arm, beaming up at him. “Am I that boring?”

“No.” He was quick to shake his head. 

“You should loosen up,” you declared.

Grumbling under his breath, he took a sip of his drink. It was already his third one. “Are you ready for more fieldwork?”

“Yes! Can’t wait to impress you with my skills!”

He glanced at you and you looked exactly as he had imagined. So bright and full of joy. “Are you trying to impress me?” he asked out of nowhere.

“Well,” you started, eyes trained on his outfit. “You are my mentor and I’d like to leave a good impression.”

Nanami raised a brow. You reminded him of Takuma Ino. He liked it when he was respected and you were so full of hope. He could imagine you looking at him like he was a hero, admired and respected. 

“Ah! Listen to this!” Gojo laughed, eyes shining even behind his sunglasses as he looked at the screen of his phone. “Suguru is coming!”

Shoko raised her glass with a chuckle, “Told you he’d be down to meet the new girl!”

Nanami’s shoulders tensed, and he looked at your expression. You were practically smiling so hard that your cheeks were puffing. How excited…

“It’s always a pleasure when Geto joins us,” Ijichi said, Akari nodding dreamily to agree.

“You’ll love him!” Gojo assured you, “He’s my best friend!” His toothy grin and sparkling eyes indicated that he was telling the truth. “He’s one of the teachers, helps me a lot with the students since we have so many first years this year.”

“Mimiko and Nanako are also graduating,” Shoko added, smiling. “Time flies.”

“Yes, they’ll either continue to Jujutsu College or they’ll get to working!” Gojo pointed at Nanami, “You promised to take them in once they graduate!”

“It wasn’t a promise, you told me to do it.” Nanami took a sip from his sake. “They had to repeat the third year twice now. I’m not sure if they’re dedicated.”

“The third time is the charm!” Gojo laughed at pointed at Ijichi, “He repeated the first year thrice! That’s why you were all alone in the second year and graduated alone!” 

Ijichi let out a nervous chuckle, “Am I supposed to take that as an insult?”

Your eyes kept following whoever was talking, you tried keeping up with the conversation but it almost felt impossible.

“Nonetheless, sure,” Nanami sighed, “I’ll take them in when they manage to graduate.” Whether it be how puzzled you looked or the guilt of leaving you out of the question, Nanami leaned down to whisper in your ear. “They’re Geto’s adopted daughters.”

“Wow, isn’t he too young?” you asked, even more puzzled.

“He was. He saved the girls from a village during a mission gone wrong after he graduated. The curses eradicated the village and he only managed to save the girls.” Nanami watched as you took notice of his empty cup and poured more sake for him. He could feel his tongue loosening, he could also feel himself getting more confident. 

“Aww…” Your sad eyes looked up at him and you pouted, “I hope the girls are doing better now.”

“They are!” Gojo said and pulled out his phone, “They’re a part of our family. Here!” He held his phone out to your face to show pictures of two beautiful young girls with him and Geto at what looked like a crepe shop. He then moved on to the next picture where they were all in school uniforms in front of the Jujutsu High garden. “They’re growing up so fast!”

You smiled, eyes softening, “Having kids so early on must be nice, but also expensive…”

“You’re so right! They want designer stuff and beg me to take them to places. It’s not like Suguru doesn’t have the power to fly them over to any city!” he feigned annoyance and shook his head.

You were laughing. 

Nanami continued drinking.

“You live in Tokyo?” Gojo said.

“Yes, I moved here about a few years ago,” you smiled, making the move to pour more sake into your cup.

“Are you single?” 

“That’s private, Mr. Gojo,” you forced out a giggle, still smiling politely. “What about you?”

“Well,” Gojo winked, “Unfortunately, I’m not.” 

“Unfortunately?” Shoko asked, taking a long whiff of her cigarette. “Already?”

“Yeah, something like that,” he shrugged.

Shoko rolled her eyes, “Gojo and his love life never fails to amuse me.”

“But it always fails, huh?” you joked. 

“Exactly,” he sighed and took a sip from his coke. “It’s hard to find the one.”

“Oh, I think we all know you’ve already found the one,” Shoko scoffed, “You’ve missed your chance and now you’re asking for pity.”

Gojo pouted, “There’s always the one that got away.” His stare found Nanami, he winked again and it made the blonde one glare at him.

Shoko let out a soft sigh, exhaling the smoke of her cigarette.

You raised a brow but didn’t question further.

Then Gojo and you started talking about your hobbies. You mentioned drawing and writing poems. He made a joke about how you should draw him. 

“I actually can’t draw that good,” you said.

Nanami didn’t know what came over him but he found himself objecting. “I think-” No, that would be a little creepy if he told you he had seen you before. It was a coincidence but still, it felt a little odd to mention to a new coworker. “I believe you can draw well. Art isn’t all about talent, it’s about expressing yourself and your emotions.”

You smiled at him, “That’s nice of you to say,” you softly spoke. “If I have to be honest, I’ve drawn you, Nanami. You’re pretty easy to draw.”

Gojo laughed but his existence was a background noise now. Nanami was baffled, he hadn’t seen you drawing anything since the two of you started working. 

“You see,” you started, a bit nervous and shy. “I’ve seen you a couple of times in the city where I hang out and drawn you a couple of times. Or enough times to make me mentioning this to you creepy.”

Nanami chuckled, “That’s interesting.” 

“I can bring them to work tomorrow, I’d love to show them to you,” you said and although it was merely to make small talk, you had no idea how happy that made Nanami.

“I’ll be looking forward to that,” he said. He was. 

“I’m gonna get more drinks,” Shoko announced, getting up from her seat, “Does anyone else want anything something other than sake?” Almost everyone started talking at once. She scoffed and shook her head, “I’ll get everyone beer, that’s all.”

“Ah!” Gojo raised his hand but Shoko slapped it away.

“I’ll get you something non-alcoholic.”

With that, she left. 

Nanami watched you finish what was left in your cup while Gojo was busy texting. There was a comfortable silence between everyone until the door to their private booth opened again. 

It hadn’t been long enough for Shoko to return so that only meant-

“Good evening,” Geto greeted everyone with a smile, closing the door behind himself.

“Suguru!” Gojo cheered, “You made it!”

Some collective greetings were being said to Geto as he sat next to Gojo, the two poked each other while smiling. They were speaking to each other when his eyes landed on you. “You must be the newbie.”

Gojo smirked, “Yes, she’s Nanami’s new partner.”

You bowed your head, “Nice to meet you, I’m (name).”

Geto stared at Nanami, squinting his eyes ever so slightly, “Is Nanami treating you alright?”

Chuckling, you nodded, “So far, yes!”

A smirk plastered on Geto’s face, “That’s good to hear, he can be pretty dense at times.”

“That never happened,” Nanami spat, rolling his eyes. “Could you stop badmouthing me in front of me?” It was more of an order.

“Well someone can’t take a joke,” Gojo laughed, raising his hands to surrender. “You see, (name)? He’s so dense.”

They were trying to turn you against him, make you dislike him and it was working. He hated that they were making a fool of him and how he took the bait every single time. He was tired of the constant state of fighting.

“I’m going out for a smoke,” Nanami abruptly said, getting up from his seat. 

Geto followed him. Then Gojo. 

Nanami groaned softly when he noticed them following after him and hurried outside. The cold night air caressed his face as he pulled out his packet of cigarettes. Without having the chance to put his cigarettes away, the packet got snatched from his hands. 

“She’s pretty,” Geto said, taking a cigarette from Nanami’s packet and handing it back to him. “Any plans?”

“What plans?” Nanami said, patting on his clothes to find his lighter, Geto was faster again, he pulled out his lighter to light Nanami’s cigarette first and then lit his own.

“The plan where you apply the things we taught you to get the girl.” Gojo walked to stand in front of the two guys. “I mean, it’s obvious that you find her attractive.”

“This isn’t high school and nor am I horrible people like you,” he spat coldly.

"Let me break it down for you," Geto said out of a sudden, exhaling his smoke at Nanami’s face. “You are in denial. We weren’t the ones who hurt anyone. It was you and your obsession. Satoru, did we ever make anyone cry?”

Nanami could feel his blood boil, anger was taking over him.

“Nuh-uh,” Gojo smirked while shaking his head. “Pipsqueak maybe? Tears of joy when we were giving her the time of her life before the graduation ceremony?”

Nanami glared at the white-haired guy, his eyes were sharp enough to cut him into pieces. “I never made anyone cry.”

Geto started walking around Nanami, inhaling from his cigarette. “Really? From what I remember, you don’t know how to handle a woman. You always waited for us to invite you and then acted like we were the worst. In your head, since you are madly in love with whoever’s the next victim, it makes everything you do out of love, right?”

“Don’t be so mean, Suguru.” Gojo folded his arms over his chest, “Nanami loves making us the bad guys because that’ll justify everything. We dragged him into everything, right?”

Geto scoffed, furrowing his brows. “If that’s what happened, then why do I remember him knocking on my door? Begging to be let in? Begging to be a part of it? Did we also force you into that?”

Gojo shook his head. “I don’t even remember asking him to go into Pipsqueak’s room late at night, do you?”

Nanami bit the sponge butt of the cigarette hard enough for it to break and fall, he spat out the half that ended up in his mouth. “Don’t you dare,” he warned.

Lifting his hands, Gojo’s lips curled up in a devilish grin, his eyes were wide and crazed. “I remember that she came to us. She sought the comfort of the horrible people because of-”

“Satoru,” Geto softly spoke, a smile in his voice. It made Gojo stop immediately. He offered a satisfied nod to his best friend and a soft, kind smile to Nanami who was on the verge of losing his composure. “No matter how much you try to act like you’re better than us, we all know the truth. We know. If you want to make enemies with us, then we will be your enemies.”

“What do you say, Suguru?” Gojo walked up to his friend, draping an arm on his shoulder. “Wanna go halfsies on (name)? Like the old times?” 

Geto’s smile turned sinister, eyes still on Nanami, watching him get riled up wordlessly. 

The blonde one clenched his jaw and kept quiet, staring at the ground. His whole body was tense but he felt helpless like a mouse caught in a trap, he didn’t know how to react, what to do or say.

“Should we do the overly friendly guys?” Gojo chuckled, “Or the mysterious guy and the funny guy? Or the best friends who are rivals?”

Nanami’s lip started twitching. 

“Nah,” Geto waved his hand, his playful tone returning. “Leave that to Nanami.” He turned around with Gojo, slowly walking back into the bar. “She’s not my type.”

“Yeah, your type’s more…” Gojo jokingly hummed in thought, acting like he was trying to decide. 

“Innocent,” Geto filled in with a sigh.

They left Nanami alone in the cold, crisp night air.

To calm his nerves, he decided to take a walk.

On the way, Nanami vomited thrice. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, ignoring the strong smell of acid, and grabbed onto his pack of cigarettes instead. He couldn’t believe he had been humiliated by those two idiots. 

They were careless, as always.

They were horrible, as always.

He was hopeless, as always.

Nanami felt a sort of sorrow in his gut, maybe they were right? Maybe he had been too blind to see himself honestly. He wasn’t sure what made him this way. He remembered liking those two until they became third years. Perhaps it was the reality of the situation settling in. Maybe because he knew he would never be able to continue what they were doing once they were gone. Or perhaps because he wanted everything to last forever but they had to grow up eventually to become a part of society. To become adults.

He remembered that day he saw the new transfer student visiting Jujutsu High and immediately told Gojo about it. It would be their one last game. One more before they became part of society.

Yet, it had ended so soon. 

What?

Did he want it to last?

He felt his legs get heavier, so he sat down on a bench, inhaling from his cigarette. 

He wanted to believe that he was a good man.

He wasn’t.

A chill went down Nanami’s spine. His throat felt dry. He let out a deep breath and pushed a hand through his silky hair. 

No matter how much he played this character of being a responsible adult, he was still tainted with these dark thoughts and urges that he couldn’t get rid of. He wanted to be able to act careless, be something so precious and big in those hopeful eyes of yours. To make you feel like he was your God and your savior. He wanted to play the game one last time. 

He wanted to play with you. 

Nanami wasn’t a good actor, or maybe he was. He had been playing a character for over a decade and it had worked for so long. He could do it.

The mischief started to bleed through his composed expression and his lips curled up. 

Gojo would have been so close to you, practically sticking to your side and putting his hands on you while pretending to be this over-friendly coworker.

Geto was calmer. He liked how Geto was able to sweep women off their feet with just his words. He kept this mysterious aura around him and spoke only when he needed to. He would say things that weren’t true but since they came out of his mouth, they would become true for whichever pitiful girl was the next victim.

Nanami knew how they played this game. 

He knew the first thing they did was to decide what character they were going to play. 

Nanami wasn’t good at that.

He was good at being a bystander.

The one to comfort you when he knew you needed it.

The one you would trust because he was the good guy.

Nanami was good at that.

[sweatervest-obsessed]

I Should Probably, Probably Not

Pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader

WC: ~2.3k

TW: swearing, mentions of sex, making out, definitely pg18, mdni, poor decisions, bar bathrooms

A/N: this song is so Steve post breakup and I legit couldn’t not write it. Hope y’all enjoy it!!!!

Haven't heard from you in a couple of months But I'm out right now and I'm all fucked up

“Robin. Robsssss.” You tugged on her sleeve. Your shirt revealed a bit more cleavage than usual, and your hair had been done up for just one last hurrah before you became a senior in college. The gang had all decided to go out, bar hopping, but after the first bar, you all ended up going to your favorite bar and staying there anyways. You were sitting in your usual booth, all six of you, well would be seven, enjoying the last night of summer together. 

Steve opted out of the night, which you were more than happy about, really. Steve had broken up with you at the start of summer, citing his internship as taking up most of his time and distance would be too hard, as if your almost two year relationship meant nothing to him. But whatever, it’s fine, who cares about him anyways. You do.

“What babes.” Robin took another sip of her beverage and looked at you, cheeks flushed with tequila and rum. 

“I have to pee and I don’t really wanna crawl under the table or go alone..”

Robin giggled slightly. “I was just gonna ask if you wanted to come with me!” 

“Fucking mind melded we are.” The two of you touched your foreheads together before bursting out into laughter. 

“Stop, stop I’m gonna pee my pants.” You were trying to catch your breath, Robin looking anywhere but you because if she did, she’d laugh again. 

“Bathroom Robin! Go go go.” The two of you hopped up, grabbing your phones and heading towards the bar's bathroom, doing your best to keep your laughter to the occasional giggle. It wasn’t gross in there, but you tried to touch minimal surfaces.The two of you sat in the stalls next to one another, talking about whatever came to mind, and when you went to wash your hands, your phone in your skirt pocket buzzed. You pulled it out to look at who was texting you. 

And you're callin' my phone, you're all alone And I'm sensing some undertone

“Oh my god.” You said, unable to stop the gasp you let out.

“What what what.” Robin leaned against you, peering over your shoulder. 

“Steve texted me.” You whispered. 

“What did he say.” Robin answered back in a whisper. 

Your phone started ringing and you dropped it on the sink. “FUCK. Robin. What do I do??”

“Don’t answer him.” 

“But—“ 

“Don’t do it.” 

“You’re not my mom.” 

“Don’t—“

“Hello?” You had picked it up on the last ring. Robin shot you a glare, peppering her hand along with your mouth, making fun of you. Her face made you giggle a bit. You heard him exhale your name. 

“You picked up.” 

“Is everything okay?” 

“Yeah baby.” 

You rolled your eyes, trying to pretend like the nickname didn’t make your mouth a bit dry. Robin assumed it was for her and stuck her tongue out at you. 

“What’d’ya want Steve?” You hummed, 

“I‘ll text you my new apartment’s address. You should come over.” 

“I’m drunk, not stupid Steve. If you wanted to see me then maybe you should’ve come out with all of your friends tonight.” You hung up, giving Robin a small little smirk before the two of you headed back to the table. 

“What a douche.” She muttered, holding the door open as she left. She missed the way you bit your lip and looked down at your phone. 

And I'm right here with all my friends But you're sending me your new address

Steve texted you his address anyways, and you liked it, telling him that you’d be there in twenty. 

It was only a three minute walk, lucky you. 

You were sitting at the table, now on the edge of the booth, listening to Jonathan’s new ventures while Nancy was telling Robin about some cute girl that came in while they were in the bathroom. 

You sighed, content, finishing up your drink, enjoying the company of your friends, but fifteen minutes passed by painstakingly slow, and Robin watched as your interest drifted away. 

She was correct in assuming the text from Steve had made you reel into your own mind, but she was wrong when it came to how upset you were about it. 

“I think I’m going to call it first guys.” You smiled at them, slamming down five, five dollar bills—leaving first meant you paid the price for it. 

Robin gave you a quick smile and handed you your coat. 

Your goodbyes were quick and filled with promises of seeing everyone tomorrow since you saw each other almost every single day anyways. 

As soon as you were out of the bar, you took in a breath of fresh air before sending the text. 

“omw” 

And I know we're done, I know we're through But, God, when I look at you My brain goes, "Ah" Can't hear my thoughts (I cannot hear my thoughts) Like blah-blah-blah (blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah)

This was not your smartest moment, but you were drunk, you were horny, and you were still in love with Steve Harrington. 

And Steve doesn’t do distance well, you knew that, but you weren’t expecting him to ask you for a break over the summer since you thought Steve loved you the same way you loved him.

Steve. 

Steve. Steve. Steve. 

Nothing but Steve. 

Not a single thought in your head was about anything other than Steve. The ways his eyes would rake over you, that stupid infectious laugh of his, his easily pullable hair, the kisses on your forehead, his fingers grabbing at your soft thighs, the pretty little sighs that left his pretty little lips—your body shivered the more you thought about him.

You chalked it up to the cooler air outside since it was almost midnight. 

Should probably not I should probably, probably not I should probably, probably not

One singular moment of doubt entered your head as you made it closer to his apartment. Only one moment. 

“This has to be such a bad fucking idea right?” You mumbled. But no one answered.

Seeing you tonight It's a bad idea, right?

“Think of the consequences here babes.” You sighed, pulling out your phone, realizing you missed a text from Robin:

"let me know when you get home babe!"

You sighed and liked the text before opening your notes app, a pros and cons list has just got to help...right?

Seeing you tonight It's a bad idea, right?

Pros would include:

Sex. Obviously. If one person was good at making you feel like a goddess, it was Steve Harrington. That man knew how to work your body like a violin, just to get you to make the sounds he wanted. You hooked up with someone a week after the breakup to try and get your mind off of him, but not only did you not orgasm, this bitch was a minuteman. 

Steve’s Arms. No explanation needed. 

Seeing Steve after a couple of months. You missed him, of course you missed him. Falling out of love is a difficult process and while the post breakup glow up is real, and beautiful, you couldn’t help but wonder how it affected Steve. He was one of the prettiest people you had ever met, so why wouldn’t he get even hotter? 

Steve’s Hair.

Being able to see Steve and be held by Steve. God you were desperate, it felt embarrassing. 

Seeing you tonight It's a bad idea, right?

Cons:

Seeing Steve. Obviously. That was going to wreck you. If you go and see him right now, you might never be able to get over him, and while you wanted to be under him, this might be a bad idea. 

Learning to not settle for good sex because making someone else make you cum is clearly more difficult that you truthfully wanted to deal with. High expectations for sex is technically good, but not when your ex was an Adonis who literally was addicted to eating you out…that’s something you might never be able to let go of again. 

….

Seeing you tonight Fuck it, it's fine

More Pros than Cons. Clear winner in your eyes. 

Yes, I know that he's my ex But can't two people reconnect? I only see him as a friend (The biggest lie I ever said)

It’s not like he said to come over and rekindle your relationship. You’re just…hooking up, friends with benefits. God you were a booty call for him. 

You haven’t seen him since May, since he broke up with you. At least he had the decency to do it in person, before he left. What a great guy. 

You're not sure who you're trying to lie to, but it doesn't stop you anyways.

Now I'm gettin' in the car, wreckin' all my plans I know I should stop, but I can't And I told my friends I was asleep But I never said where or in whose sheets

You double checked the numbers on the brownstone with the text he had sent you, confirming you were standing outside the right place. 

You shot Robin a quick text, hoping she wouldn’t notice that you got home too quickly this time. 

“About to get in bed! Kiss kiss bitch” 

“Sweet dreams babes ;) <3” 

“You have no idea.” You mumbled, walking into the apartment complex once you had been buzzed in. 

And I pull up to your place on the second floor And you're standing, smiling at the door And I'm sure I've seen much hotter men But I really can't remember when

“Missed me Harrington?” 

“How could I not, gorgeous.” 

“Who let you get hotter. Certainly wasn’t me.” You smirked at him, still feeling the liquid courage you had downed earlier. He looked good. You could spend all night eating him up, and you were going to. His tan was back, freckles along his face, and probably arms and back--you were surprised you weren't drooling when you looked at him.

“I could say the same for you. That’s a good look on you, how come you didn’t dress like that for me.” 

He was looking at you and you simply couldn’t decipher which emotion he was feeling. You saw lust, front and present, but there was a wave of something that kept flashing through. 

“You never asked.” You crossed your arms, grateful for the shirt you had chosen for the night, watching as Steve tried to give you the decency of pretending like he wasn’t staring at your chest. “Gonna make a girl stand in the hallway Harrington or…?” 

Seeing you tonight It's a bad idea, right?

Steve took one step forward and pulled you into him, lips on yours. You could melt right then and there, letting out a soft moan into his mouth. He tasted like bourbon and smoke and chapstick, plus something you never could figure out—Steve. He tasted like Steve. 

Your hands were around his neck, yanking on his hair, earning a moan matching your own. 

His hands on your waist, pulling you flush against him, as much contact as possible. Sparks flew off your skin when his fingers pushed your shirt up slightly, giving him the skin to skin contact he desired desperately.

Seeing you tonight It's a bad idea, right?

After about thirty seconds of making out like teens in the hallway, you moved your hands to his chest and shoved him lightly, making him stumble back a bit. His grip on you tightened, causing you to stumble into his apartment with you. 

“Feisty.”

You rolled your eyes at his antics, but your mouth betrayed you curling into a slightly smug smile. 

You were enjoying this, maybe too much. 

Seeing you tonight It's a bad idea, right?

You kicked the door shut with your foot, kissing Steve again, wanting to get as much out of this as possible because you don’t know what comes after this. But that’s a later, sober you problem.

Steve moved his mouth down to your neck, swearing up and down how beautiful you were, how he couldn’t get enough of you, how much he fucking missed you. 

He lightly bit your neck, sure to leave a bruise in the morning, but you didn’t care, not even remotely. He sucked on another spot, knowing it would elicit the sigh he wanted. 

You felt a finger tap your ass and you took your cue, hopping up onto his kitchen counter. You’ll make it to the bedroom eventually. 

Seeing you tonight

You pulled away for a second. Steve’s eyes were lust-blown, lips kiss bitten and puffy, hair messed up from your hands tugging at it. 

“Should we…” You mumbled, watching the way his eyes flickered up and down from your lips repeatedly. “Do you…”

“Y/N. I swear to god. Just kiss me.” He mumbled, lips back on yours, sparks cascading to the floor. 

You got the memo.

Not a single bone in your body regretted your decision. 

Fuck it, it's fine

[cumulo-stratus]

Trypanophobia

Request- yes/no

Pairing- Spencer Reid x FtM!reader

Summary- spencer helps you with your T shots because your fear of needles is getting in the way <3

Warnings- Needles, discussions of fear of needles, Spencer being a pookie bear 🫶

A/N- thank you so much for the request lovie!! We love a good ftm reader ☺️🫶 and thank you everybody for all the love recently, I've had a lot of fun writing more often!!

wc- 1.1k

This wasn't supposed to happen. 

It wasn't supposed to go like this. 

Spencer was supposed to be there with you. 

The needle shook between your fingers, you could barely hold it with how intense your hands trembled. You tried to ground yourself by focusing on the cold tile of the bathroom floor, the perpetual sound of the whirring fan above you. But the shaking wouldn't stop, you even tried your other grounding strategies, recommended by Spencer's bubbly coworker, penelope. But you couldn't get the needle straight- and you probably wouldn’t. But you had to try. 

Ill tell you, trying didn't work- you couldn't stop spiraling at the idea of a sharp object piercing your skin. And now you were left with a still full of testosterone needle on the floor next to you, tear stained cheeks, and a boyfriend who wasn’t supposed to be home for at least another four or five hours. It was a sticky situation and you were left reeling at the fact that this would have to be done at some point. You didn't want the little testosterone you could afford to go to waste, after all, the FBI is not as lucrative of a career as one might think, and you don't get paid to go to university.

You were so caught up in your own thoughts, and doubts to hear the sound of the door to your apartment opening and closing again. 

Spencer. 

Your saving grace Spencer, as he always was and always would be found you sitting on the floor of the tiny bathroom, leaning against the toilet and crying with a needle in your hand. Spencer's mind immediately went to the worst, his own fears and experiences flooding his memory- but then he saw the little bottle labeled ‘Testosterone’, and lots of other little labels he couldn't read. 

“Oh darling what happened? come ’ere.”

Spencer opened his arms and invited you to lean into him, just as you often did. but today you needed it more than most days. 

“I- I i’m sorry- i shou-“

“don’t apologize- we all have hard days, just tell me what happened okay love?”

you nodded, knowing there was no arguing when he shuts down your apologies like that. his hands started rubbing up and down your back in a soothing motion, trying to calm the occasional sob that still bubbled up. You took a breath before responding, trying not to let your voice crack when you spoke. 

“i tried spencer- i tried so hard to do it on my own- but I can't. And I know I should, it's just a needle it's not that big a deal! but- but-“

Words tumbled from your lips so fast that your brain could barely keep up, but you were interrupted again by Spencer pressing his lips to yours, effectively stopping you from rambling any further. When he pulled away there was a smile on his face, and you couldn't stop the small, sorrowful smile that slipped onto your lips when he kissed you. Spencer's kisses always did that, they always made you smile.

“slow down handsome, i'll do it for you it's okay,”

Spencer's tone was soft and caring, his voice never failed to quiet your thoughts. But you still couldn't bring yourself to look in his eyes- old habits die hard and accepting help from others, especially when you were vulnerable like this was a hard drug to kick.

“Are you sure? you don’t have to if you don't want to- don’t feel like you have to,”

Spencer just chuckled and picked up the needle from its fallen place on the white tile, his encyclopedic knowledge coming in handy, allowing him to know how to properly clean and handle the needle.

Spencer decided to lead you from the bathroom and onto the large, plush couch which offered much more comfort than the bathroom floor. He made sure your left leg was hanging off the couch and that your shorts were pushed up so he had access to it your upper, outer, thigh. All his motions were gentle and intentional, carefully trying to make the experience as comfortable as possible despite your fear of needles. 

Spencer could still sense the doubt in your eyes at the notion of him doing so much for you, but he put that to rest by taking your hand in his and placing a kiss on the knuckles and reassuring you, “You know i don't mind taking care of you, you know- i actually enjoy it. You're my prince, I'm gonna treat you like it-” Spencer had an almost bashful smile on his lips when he spoke, causing you to blush.

“i know- i just dont think im ever gonna get used to it,”

Your comment made Spencer chuckle as he did the final preparations for your injection, he was honestly more giddy then you were for your first shot. But Spencer had always been one of your biggest supporters in your transition.

“Alright I'm gonna count to three, and do the shot on three, ready?”

You nodded and steeled yourself, turning your head the other direction so you wouldn't have to look at it. With everything set, spencer began to count.

“1…2…3…”

Spencer poked you with the needle on two.

You yelped and turned to Spencer with an incredulous look on your face, mouth agape at his perceived betrayal. Your boyfriend smirked, leaving a peck on your cheek before saying, “ baby your muscles were gonna be tensed and it would’ve hurt more if I did it on three- I did it all out of love,”. The playful tone of Spencer's voice matched his expression, and you mirrored it- all notions of betrayal forgotten for Spencer's soft touch as he pulled you into his arms for a bone crushing hug. 

“I'm proud of you, you know. Trypanophobia affects 1 in 4 adults, and you have to do this everyday now! you’re so strong, even if you need some help sometimes..”

Spencer punctuates his statement with a meaningful kiss to your lips, holding your hands as he does. His palms radiate heat into your own slightly chilly extremities. Spencer was practically a human heater, and you always took advantage of it in times like this. 

You eventually pulled away for air with a smile, but it fell again and you leaned your head back with a groan. Immediately spencer was worried he’d done something wrong, but his worries dissipated when you spoke again,

“I'm gonna have to do this everyday! for the next who knows how long,”

You punctuated your complaint with a groan, your head flopping back forward to smush your face into your boyfriend's shoulder, muffling the groan. Spencer just chuckled and placed a small kiss on your scalp, and mumbling,

“And i'll be there for every one of them.”

The End

[hypersonic04]

scrolling through pinterest hungover in bed this morning, and decided that this is so teacher Ross coded.

imagine it’s a saturday night, you’re out with some of your friends celebrating a birthday or something, a bit tipsy and having a good time. you go over to the bar and wait your turn, just admiring all the people and listening to the loud laughs of the girls stood next to you, minding you own business until you look across the bar and spot him. he has the biggest smile on his face when he sees you and immediately makes his way over to you. he complements your outfit, says you look lovely.

“what are you doing here?” he asks with a grin, and the two of you are all smiles and blushes as you make friendly conversation, talking about work for a bit and asking who you’re with (secretly relieved when you say your friends).

I think maybe he pays for your drink, and his friends find him at the bar with an unfamiliar young woman and immediately assume he’s trying to pull. he throws an arm around you and is like ‘no, no - this is y/n!’. they all like ‘ah we’ve heard so much about you!’. his cheeks go pink, rolling his eyes a little and avoiding your gaze as you look up at him.

and for a while you’re pulled into the comfort of Ross’ side (as pictured above) and you’re laughing at the jokes he tells and getting to know his friends, and it feels so natural.

“I should probably get back to my friends, they’ll think I’ve got lost.” you giggle and he nods in agreement, a bit disappointed if he was completely honest.

as if like magic, they suddenly appear at the bar to get their own drinks and asking where you’ve been, and that quickly turns into introductions between Ross and your friends. one of them nudges you and raises their eyebrows as if to say ‘I get it now’, making you laugh a little bit as they dreamily shake his hand and introduce themselves. he’s a gentleman as ever, making sure his friends are introduced to yours and offering to buy drinks, which they gladly accept.

before you know it, you’re all stood together and chatting away like you’ve known each other for years. it gives you that warm, fuzzy feeling in your stomach, and when Ross pulls you into his side again unannounced, you realise that there’s no way you’re going to be able to hide this crush anymore. he’s so tall as he stands next to you, and his aftershave smells stronger than usual. it’s almost comforting to see him in clothes other than a shirt and tie, and you think about how even if you didn’t know him, you’d still have been staring at him from across the room because he just looks so. bloody. handsome.

I think that as you’re leaving, he gives you a hug and it’s so warm and lovely and his arms feels so gentle around you.

“see you monday!” you smile up at him when he pulls away and your friends start to drag you out, watching as he waves with a smile, eyes creasing at the corners.

the whole time he’s at the bar after you’ve left, you’re all he can think about. his friends say they get why he’s obsessed with you, and he protests that he’s not obsessed (he totally is obsessed). he has this smile on his face that he just can’t get rid of, and when he’s walking home at 1am, hands shoved into his pockets and head down, you’re still on his mind. I think it’s this night that makes him realise it’s not just a work crush, and maybe he decides to ask you out the week after. he’s lying in bed, room pitch black, and he’s wondering what you’re doing now.

A/N: I’m planning on writing an extra long one shot about when he asks her out, so this was kind of just the epilogue for that. I’m so glad you all love teacher Ross as much as I do and thank you for all of the lovely comments and reblogs, it truly is so kind of you all <3

[oddballwriter]

Catfight

꒦꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦

Summary: You’re out on a bar date with your boyfriend and some girl isn’t taking the hint and you get a bit too possessive.

Warnings: The reader is drunk and so is the other girl. Mentions of a fight (a slap is mentioned and it’s said that reader and the girl get physical but nothing in actual detail). Jake is still sober enough to break up the fight. There’s one use of “Y/N”

Author’s Snip: This kind of sucks and I kind of hate this. But I’ve been trying to write something all day for at least one of the moon boys so forgive me please.

Notes: I didn’t proof read this cause I’m kind of over putting time into this one shot.

I’ll shut up now. Enjoy! And don’t be afraid to request.

꒦꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦

  Jake was a handsome man. You knew that very well. And you knew that some people try to flirt with him, but usually they backed off when he said that some one, you, already had dibs on him. But this bitch sure wasn’t even though you’re right here.

  It wasn’t every date night that you and Jake went to a bar, but it was a common thing. Usually it was after eating somewhere else and deciding to hit up a bar he knew was in the area. Which he always knows when there is one without looking up any directions. It’s like a bloodhound smelling a fox, he just knows. Anyways. You usually watched how much you drank since you weren’t much of a drinker. But your work week was shitty and full of something going sideways  and just needed to get it out somehow, plus, Jake was perfectly fine with carrying you home and taking care of you the next day in case you over do it a little. 

  You already had a good amount of drinks in you. You weren’t completely gone, but you definitely weren’t sober either. You excused yourself from the spot at the bar counter that you and Jake were to go to the bathroom. It wasn’t that long but when you came back you saw a girl talking to Jake. You didn’t think much about it. You did think that she was a little too close to him, but then again some people are really friendly when they’re drunk and also don’t have much spacial awareness. 

  You were about to sit back on the bar stool that you were previously sitting at. But as soon as Jake saw that you were back he got up. “Hey, beba. Let’s sit somewhere else, yeah? The stools aren’t that comfortable.” he said as he lead you towards some where else. You didn’t have much time to respond and just went with it. You manage to find a spot on a leather couch that was tucked in a corner in the back of the bar. Hardly anyone was on it so you two were able to take up as much space as you wanted. 

  After a while of talking and enjoying the rest of your drinks you nearly forgot about the girl until she showed up again.

  “Why did yo leave? I was talking to you.” she asked Jake in a somewhat whiny voice before giggling. It was now that you noticed that she was wearing a tight dress that didn’t show that much to be honest, but still looked like it was more so for being at a club than a bar. You could now see that she did look pretty drunk. 

  “Sorry. I just wanted to move spots. The stools were uncomfy.” Jake said to her. “Then you should have just told me, silly!” she giggled again. 

  “Who are you?” you budded in and asked. The girl looked at you for a moment with this look that read like yo were inconveniencing her or bugging her. “I’m Skylar. Who are you?” she questioned back. “My name’s Y/N. I’m his girlfriend.” you respond back trying not to sound rude. “Oh,” she remarked. Skylar looked like she was thinking for a moment before turning back to Jake. “I’m with a bachelorette party. Do you want to hangout with us for a little? We’re bar hopping.” she asks Jake, almost ignoring you. “We’re on a date.” you cut in. Skylar looks at you with an annoyed look again as if she didn’t care. “I wasn’t asking you.” she remarked. 

  “Why are you looking at me like I’m being a bitch?” you said, now annoyed with her attitude. “Because you are.” she comments. You stand up so that you can talk with her better. “Listen, Skylar. You came over to my boyfriend and are acting like I’m not fucking here. Why don’t you just go back to your party and leave us be?” you rely in an aggressive tone. 

  It was about this time that Jake decided to come in because as hot as it is you see you get possessive over him, having his drunk girlfriend fight another drunk girl in the middle of a bar full of people didn’t seem like a good thing. 

  “Okay. Calm down, beba.” he says as he gently grabs your forearm to pull you back down on the couch. 

  But Skylar decided that she didn’t like your tone either and made the first move by throwing her drink at you. To which you took the freedom the slap her. You manage to get a few more hits on each other before Jake got up and threw you over his shoulder and leave the bar. That didn’t stop you from yelling nasty things at each other and Jake left out the door and Skylar’s friends, including a girl looked to be the future bride, held her back so that she couldn’t follow you two to continue the fight. 

  “Okay. Enough.” Jake said as he put you down and held your shoulders in case you tried to run off back to the inside of the bar. “She started it. That bitch threw her drink at-” you defended but Jake cut you off. “I know she threw her drink at you. I know. But you can’t just fight people in a bar. You at least wait till they’re alone and out of the bar.” he said as he tried to walk to the car with you. “And that was very hot of you to stand your ground. But if you’re going to kick someone’s ass for me, make it someone putting their hands on me and not some drunk lady.” Jake continued. 

  “Now hurry up and get in the car before someone calls the cops and you get in big trouble.” he adds as he starts to walk after upon seeing his car in the parking lot.

[babydollmarauders]

LABYRINTH — JACK HUGHES

jack hughes x fem! reader

summary: y/n goes through the 3 stages of falling in love with her best friend; realization, fear, and relief. based on the 3 “i’m falling in love” lines in Labyrinth by Taylor Swift.

notes: most of this was written when i was sleep deprived and it’s not proofread, so i apologize in advance! i’m still still trying to decide if i like writing in 1st pov or 3rd pov more tbh.

gif not mine.

REALIZATION

i felt like my fingertips may freeze off. and the longer i sat in the glass seat in Prudential Center, the colder they got. i’d been to too many of Jack’s games to count, but it never failed that i always forget how cold it really was sitting directly by the ice.

“i’m freezing my tits off.” i looked over to Luke Hughes, who occupied the seat next to me.

“Luke, you don’t have tits to freeze off.”

“what are you talking about? mine are bigger than yours, eh?” he jokes. i let loose a mock gasp and hit his arm.

“how rude!”

with two minutes left in the third period, i was grateful the game would be over soon. i was less grateful, however, that it was looking like the Devils would be breaking their six game win streak tonight. they’re currently down by one, with the Panthers having four goals against the Devils three.

i had my eyes glued to the puck, mumbling to whatever higher entity would listen, praying for a last minute game tying goal. luck was on our side tonight because with ten seconds left on the clock, Dougie managed to slap shot the puck straight past the head of Bobrovsky and into the net. i shot to my feet, clutching onto Luke’s arm as he stood beside me, both of us with wide eyes and our jaws dropped open.

we settled back in our seats a few minutes later to watch the additional five minutes of overtime, both of us hunched closer to the glass, my hands fidgeting in anxiety. i watched as Jack, Nico, and Dougie skated to the center of the ice for puck drop. Dougie gains possession of the puck quickly, skating it into the Panthers zone before dropping it back to Nico, who tries for a one-shot, which is knocked away by Bobrovsky. Jack gains control of the rebound puck and makes quick work of snapping it into the goal.

Luke and i once again raise to our feet, cheering for his brother and my best friend. Jack skates around the glass bordering the ice, arms up in the air in celebration before skidding to a stop in front of us. our eyes lock and he lifts his hand against the glass. heart fluttering, i place my hand directly against the glass to match his and he mutters out two words.

“for you.”

a low simmering arises in my gut and i feel my heart skip a beat, or three, as he skates away to hug his teammates. what was that? am i having heart palpitations? should i be going to see a doctor?

i catch Jack’s eye once more as Nico taps his helmet and he flashes a smile my way. in return, my heart flips again. my mind whirls through thoughts faster than a hummingbirds wings before settling on the only real explanation.

uh oh, i’m falling in love.

now i meet Luke’s gaze and he wiggles his eyebrows suggestively, though his reason for it, i’m not too sure. i’ve been friends with all of the Hughes brothers since elementary school, it’s not as though he should suspect anything between Jack and i.

FEAR

it’s been 2 months since i came to the realization that i was falling in love with Jack, and now i’m leaned against the doorway leading into his bedroom, watching him pack for a roadie. the heart fluttering and stomach butterflies have long since vanished, leading me to believe that my traitorous heart got the memo that he and i will never be more than best friends.

“you’re sure you don’t wanna bring a friend out to the game? you can bring Luke if he can get away from UMich for a weekend.” Jack’s voice snaps me out of my thoughts and i give a slight shake of my head to clear my thoughts.

“i don’t know, i’ll let you know. i already talked to Luke but he said he has his own games this weekend. maybe i can find someone to come out with me, but you know i’ll be there regardless.”

“i would be sorely disappointed if you weren’t there. you know how happy it makes me to see you in the crowd.”

and as if a flip switched, the heart flutters were back.

“i’m your biggest fan Jacky, of course i’ll be there. no matter if i have to go alone or not.” i moved my way fully into the bedroom and picked up his messily packed bag, flipping it over and scattering the clothes on his bed before idly folding them and placing them right back into the duffel bag.

“you know you don’t don’t need to fold my clothes, right? i can do it myself.” Jack folds his arms and hits me with a half smile.

“obviously not, you still pack like a teenage boy. you’re gonna end up with wrinkles in all your shirts.” i roll my eyes and sit on the edge of the bed as i continue to fold.

“you love me.” he retorts, finally joining into the folding. my heart skips a beat once again, and i know that he doesn’t mean it in the way that i do, but my hopeless romantic side doesn’t seem to understand that.

**

after dropping Jack off at Prudential Center to catch the bus to the airport with the rest of his teammates, i’m laid in bed on the phone with my friend, Emma.

“the game is on Saturday, if you wanted to fly out with me. Jack is willing to pay for your flight so that i won’t be alone. but if not, that’s cool. i can go on my own.”

“yeah, i can go! although, i’ve gotta say; you’re really sure this guy is JUST your best friend? i mean, what “just friend” is willing to pay for someone to fly out to one of his games JUST so you won’t be alone?”

“that’s just the kind of person Jack is. he’s exceptionally sweet. and he has this protective nature. he doesn’t like the idea of me going to games alone because he knows how people can be. he’s so thoughtful and always prepared to help in any way he can.” i can feel the smile gracing my lips but no matter how much i try, i can’t will it away. i always get happy talking about my best friend.

“you’re in love with him.” Emma singsongs and i can hear her smirk through the phone. “i can tell by your voice. you get the same airy lilt that my sister gets when she talks about her husband. like you would do anything for him. like he hung the moon in the sky just for you.”

“he’s my best friend, Em. i’ve known him since i was an awkward little girl with lopsided pigtails and gap teeth. obviously i would do anything for him. just being his friend makes me immensely happy.”

“but you want to be MORE than friends. you can’t fool me. i’ve been where you are right now. you love him, but you don’t think he feels the same way. but i can tell you right now that any guy that would go through the lengths that he does to make sure you feel happy and safe, definitely loves you in more than a friend way.”

oh no, i’m falling in love again.

my sigh is loud and clear. rolling onto my side, i place my phone on speaker on-top of the pillow next to me.

“you need to tell him how you feel. or better yet, just kiss him.” Emma speaks again.

“it’s not necessarily just that i don’t think he feels the same way, although i do think that observation is wildly inaccurate. it’s the fact that it could ruin everything if i made a move and i was wrong. he’s my best friend and i can’t afford to lose him.”

RELIEF

the off season has officially arrived, and the thought of having Jack to myself for a few months has me more excited than i’d care to admit. we arrived at the Hughes lake house yesterday, meeting Luke who was already here, and Quinn and Trevor both arrived this morning.

We were all sat outside around a fire now, the guys all drinking beers and reminiscing on past summers spent here.

“oh, remember when Jack was dating that Stacey girl that was renting that house down the street a few summers ago? god she was awful.” Trevor’s voice was a few octaves higher than needed, due to the alcohol in his system, but it mattered little to the others because Quinn and Luke laughed along with him.

“oh c’mon you guys, she wasn’t that bad!” i could spot the red tinge to Jack’s cheeks from my spot beside him, the firelight sharing an orange glow to admire him in.

“uh dude, yeah she was! she was so jealous of y/n that she pushed her off the boat!” my eyes get wide and i start shaking my head at Trevor, dragging my hand in front of my neck in a stop motion, but he just kept talking. “and don’t you remember all those nasty things she said about her? girl was just plain awful!”

i look back up to Jack just in time to see the frown that takes place. he looks towards me with furrowed eyebrows.

“wait what? why did you never tell me any of this?”

“oh shit did you not know?” Quinn’s laughter cuts off and he looks genuinely concerned. “y/n, i thought you told him when you told us.”

i shake my head and avert my gaze down to my feet but Jack has other plans. grabbing ahold of my chin, he moves my head to look towards him again.

“i didn’t say anything because i didn’t wanna ruin your relationship or sound like a jealous bitch. and you guys eventually called it quits anyways, so what’s the big deal?”

“the big deal is that you didn’t tell me sooner, y/n. the big deal is that i would’ve tossed her to the curb immediately if you had told me she was acting that way. YOU wouldn’t’ve been the one ruining the relationship, SHE would’ve.” his voice is sharp and kind of daunting, contradicting his soft gaze pointed on me. i can see the worry in his eyes and know his next words before he says them. “are you okay?”

“i’m fine, Jack. it was a long time ago. can we please just forget about it?” i sigh and muster up a smile before turning back towards the fire. “do you guys remember the time we saran-wrapped Luke to his bed while he slept?”

“YOU WERE IN ON THAT?! I THOUGHT YOU WERE MY FRIEND!” Luke’s words make the other three guys all burst out in laughter.

“who’s idea did you think it was, Moosey?” Quinn is hunched over in laughter at the memory and i’ve slowly started scooting forward in my seat in preparation for what i know will come next.

“oh i’m gonna get you for that!” Luke shoots to his feet and that’s all it takes for me to set off like a race horse.

i can hear his footsteps not far behind me, chasing me into the house. i shut the back door behind me, in order to save me a few precious seconds and i run straight into the living room, leaping behind the couch and settling into a hiding spot between the sofa and the wall. i can hear Luke bound into the room before he moves onto the next room, but then i also hear the footfall of the other three coming in from outside as well. no longer than ten seconds pass before Jack’s head pops up above me, a large grin spread across his face.

“hello there.” the shock makes me jump and i laugh and poke his nose.

“shhh, don’t let him find me.” Jack pretends to think, nodding his head and tapping his chin with an index finger before-

“LUKE! SHE’S HIDING BEHIND THE SOFA!”

i let out an incredulous gasp and pop back up into a standing position, ready to run once more, but Jack wraps his arms around my midsection, keeping me planted in the spot.

“i thought you were my best friend! how could you betray me like this?! our friendship may never recover! i don’t think we can ever be friends again after this!” my mockery and jokes come to an abrupt pause when he takes a seat on the couch, pulling me down to fall into his lap. i can feel the blood rushing to my cheeks and i look away, hoping he can’t see my blush from this angle.

“you can’t get rid of me that easily. we’re soulmates, y/n, remember?” and cue the butterflies once more. “you said that when we were 10. i didn’t really understand it at the time, but now i think you might’ve been right.”

oh, i’m falling in love.

i can feel his breath fanning my ear, and i peek over my shoulder to look at his face. our eyes lock and i know my entire face must be red and spotted from my blushing, but the look in his eyes makes me feel like the most beautiful girl alive right now.

his eyes flicker down to my lips once. twice. and one final third time, before he starts to lean in. and with a mind of their own, my lips follow until they graze his. the kiss is light at first, nothing more than a peck, before he finally captures my lips with his. his arms loosen around my middle and his hands trail to settle onto my hips, turning me mid-kiss to fit better on his lap. i pull back, leaning my forehead against his, and a wide and breathtaking smile graces his lips.

“i’m falling in love with you, y/n. i think i have been for the past eleven years.”