#save me cold ramen save me

[disc80s]

x

[diamonddaze01]

Love: Best Served Hot

pairing: chef! kmg x gn!reader genre: tooth-rotting fluff, established relationship, slice of life wc: 2.7k

summary: even when he’s exhausted, mingyu wants to care for you. 

a/n: this was supposed to be a 300 word drabble idk what happened // i love chef mingoo!!

The door creaks open, releasing a gust of chilly air that carries with it the rich, savory aroma of sautéed garlic and fresh spices. The warm glow of the kitchen lights flicker to life as Mingyu steps inside, his cheeks flushed from the cold and his hair slightly tousled from a long shift. He kicks off his shoes, leaving them haphazardly by the door, and stretches his arms overhead, letting out a dramatic sigh that echoes through the apartment.

“Guess who’s here to save your taste buds!” he announces, though the weariness in his eyes and the slight slump of his shoulders tells a different story.

You look up from your phone, a grin spreading across your face. “Don’t you ever get tired of cooking, Gyu?” you tease, leaning back against the counter, arms crossed, the familiar warmth of the kitchen enveloping you.

He feigns offense, placing a hand on his chest as if you’ve just insulted his entire culinary career. “For you? Never. I’m making you gourmet ramen from scratch. The kind that makes you forget your ex. Trust me; it’s a glow-up for your palate.”

“You said that yesterday about the ribs,” you point out, watching him glide across the kitchen with practiced ease. The overhead lights cast a soft halo around his figure, and the way his hair flops into his eyes adds an adorable charm to his focused expression. “And the kimchi jjigae last week, and the burgers the time before that.”

“Shhhh.” He reaches around you for a cutting board, dropping a soft kiss on your lips to silence you. The warmth of his lips lingers as he pulls back, a playful spark in his eyes. “I’ve never met someone who complains so much about getting wined and dined.”

You roll your eyes, crossing your arms with a mock pout. “I’m not complaining; I’m just keeping you accountable. I need to know if your cooking is really as good as you claim.”

Mingyu laughs, a rich, warm sound that fills the kitchen and dances around you; it makes your heart sing a little, like a schoolgirl with a crush. “If you’re so worried about it, maybe you should just let me cook in peace.”

As he focuses on the task at hand, the slight sheen of sweat forming on his brow catches the kitchen's light, his movements slowing just a fraction. His fingers are steady but the small tremor in his hands gives away just how long he's been on his feet. He brushes his hair back with a frustrated tug, eyes closing briefly as if savoring a second of relief before diving back into the task. It’s in these small, unguarded moments you realize just how worn he is—the dark circles under his eyes, the set of his shoulders that normally stand so proud, now sagging ever so slightly. But even through the exhaustion, there’s a determination in him, the same kind you’ve come to recognize every time he puts your needs before his own.

“Hey,” you say, your voice softening. “Are you sure you don’t want to take a break? You’ve been on your feet for hours.”

He glances over his shoulder, a smirk playing on his lips. “And what, exactly, have you eaten today, hmm?”

“Uh…” You falter, feeling a familiar flush of embarrassment creeping in.

“Here, let me help you.” He sets down the knife and taps his foot expectantly, whisk in hand. “Knowing you, you probably just subsisted on iced lattes all day because you were too busy to get a real meal, right?”

You huff, your indignation flaring. “I’ll have you know that I had a Pop-Tart and a bag of Skittles! Those are major food groups, you know.”

Mingyu bursts into laughter, but you catch a glimpse of concern flickering behind his playful facade. “Riiiiight,” he says, amusement dancing in his eyes. “So now, you’re going to shut up and watch your gorgeous, incredibly talented, hot chef boyfriend make you a meal that has an actual vegetable in it.”

He gets like this sometimes, when he's frustrated that you don't take care of yourself. It’s been a cause for many an argument in the past—his insistence that you need to eat and your stubbornness that you know how to take care of yourself. Those conversations often swirl around the kitchen like a storm, but there’s a gentleness in the way he brushes off your concerns that tells you he cares deeply, even if he masks it with humor.

You watch him chop vegetables, let yourself get lulled into dreamlike trance with the rhythmic sound of the knife against the cutting board. He moves with precision, his brow furrowing slightly in concentration as he glances over to check your expression. His dedication tugs at your heartstrings, a reminder of how he loves: by placing food in front of you even when he’s on the brink of falling asleep standing up. You’ve learned that his love language isn’t just about the meals he makes; it’s in the way he basks in the glow of your compliments, how your smile lights up his tired eyes like a spark in the dark.

You take a step closer, your fingers absentmindedly grazing the cool countertop, the warmth of the kitchen offering little comfort against the concern gnawing at you. It’s moments like these that make your heart ache —the way he pushes himself, never stopping until he’s done taking care of everyone else, even when he should be the one resting. A small, tight knot forms in your chest as you watch him, the way his brow furrows with each precise chop, his body moving with a practiced ease that can’t fully mask the heaviness of his fatigue. You wish you could stop him, take over for once, but you know he wouldn’t allow it. Still, you try to lighten the mood. 

“You know, you could just let me make dinner once in a while,” you offer, though your voice softens with unspoken worry.

He shakes his head, a grin breaking through his feigned annoyance. “And ruin my masterpiece? Never.”

The way he leans into the task, the sheer determination on his face, makes you fall in love with him a little more each day. It’s not just the food—it’s the way he pours his heart into everything he does, even when it means sacrificing his own comfort for yours. You can see it in the way his shoulders relax when you compliment his cooking, how he laughs more easily when you’re around, and how the corners of his eyes crinkle with joy when you taste something he’s prepared.

“I just want you to eat something real, not just sugar and caffeine,” he continues, a hint of worry creeping into his tone, finally letting his humorous facade fall for a second.  “I can’t have you turning into a human-sized Skittle.”

You can’t help but laugh at the image, feeling the tension of the day slip away. “I’ll have you know that I’d be a delicious  human-sized Skittle, thank you very much.”

He rolls his eyes playfully but then yawns again, the gesture drawing your concern back to the surface. “See? That right there—no more yawning until you’ve eaten something substantial, got it?”

He feigns a mock salute, but you can see the hint of exhaustion etched across his features. “Okay, okay, Captain Concerned. I promise I’ll eat something as soon as this ramen is ready. Just… give me a minute.”

You nod, the sincerity behind his words warming you. As he stirs the bubbling broth, you can’t help but admire the way his brow furrows in concentration, how he occasionally glances your way to ensure you’re still there, still watching.

“Alright, but you’d better not fall asleep in front of the stove,” you tease gently, your voice light but your heart heavy with concern.

He nods, the corners of his lips twitching into a smile. “No promises,” he retorts playfully, but the warmth in his gaze tells you that he appreciates your worry, even if he’d never admit it outright.

“Just keep your gorgeous, incredibly talented hot chef boyfriend awake, alright?” he says, a teasing lilt returning to his voice.

You can’t help but smile, feeling your affection for him grow in the warmth of the kitchen, surrounded by the scents of his hard work. “Deal. But you’d better make that ramen quick, or I might just have to find a way to fuel you with caffeine and Skittles.”

The kitchen hums with quiet, the only sounds coming from the bubbling broth and the soft scrape of Mingyu’s knife on the cutting board. You don’t need to fill the space with conversation; just being there, your silent presence, is enough. It’s always been enough for him. After a long day of being barked at on the line, of rushing orders and chaos, this is what he craves—your calm support, your quiet companionship. You don’t need to ask him how his day was; the tension in his shoulders, the way he brushes his hair back in frustration, tells you everything.

You watch as he works, each movement slow but precise, his exhaustion barely hidden beneath the surface. And still, even in his fatigue, there’s a quiet grace in how he prepares your meal—chopping vegetables, whisking broth, his fingers moving with the kind of ease that only comes from years of practice. He flicks the pan to stir the ingredients and adds garnish with a flourish—and looks over at you for validation.

Even though you’ve seen him do this hundreds of times, you still smile when he meets your eyes.  It’s a dance you’ve perfected: him cooking, you watching, the back-and-forth that fills the space between you. It’s more than just food—it's the way he pours himself into each meal, hoping to see that spark of happiness in your eyes, that subtle nod of approval that tells him, once again, that he's done well, that you love what he’s made. And it never fails—you always smile, and in that moment, it’s like he’s won an award.

“That was slick,” you murmur with a grin, watching his tired eyes light up like you’ve just given him a standing ovation. 

In return, he leans in to press a kiss to your forehead, gentle and warm. “Only for you,” he whispers, but you know it’s true. It’s in the way he offers you spoonfuls of broth to taste, holding the spoon up to your lips, watching carefully for your reaction. When you hum in satisfaction, the tension in his shoulders eases, his tiredness momentarily forgotten.

Every compliment you give is met with a kiss—sometimes on your lips, sometimes on your nose, sometimes just a gentle press to your forehead. You know that this is his love language, this silent back-and-forth of care, and it’s how you love him, too. Just being here, watching him, letting him unwind at his own pace. You don’t need to talk for him to know you’re there, supporting him. He knows you’re here, watching him, feeling the weight of his exhaustion, without needing to say it. It’s in the way you linger nearby, always close but never overbearing, allowing him to move at his own pace. Sometimes, just your presence is enough to ease the weight of the world on his shoulders, the sound of your breathing in sync with his, the gentle hum of the kitchen filling the gaps. 

You sit at the counter, content to let him work in silence, knowing he’ll fuss if you hover too much. But, true to form, he turns around every now and then, his eyes narrowing like he’s assessing the situation. “You’re going to eat, too, right? Not just stare at me?”

“Obviously,” you tease, though the warmth in your chest says otherwise. He’s tired, you can see it in the way he brushes his hair back, but still, his concern is always you—making sure you’ve eaten something other than sugar and caffeine all day. “I had a Pop-Tart, remember? And Skittles,” you add.

He rolls his eyes, not even trying to hide his amusement. “Yes, of course, the epitome of gourmet food. You need actual food, not whatever sugar rush you’ve been riding on.” There’s a playful tilt to his voice, but beneath it, the care is genuine, the worry etched into his furrowed brow. He doesn’t have to say it, but you can feel it in every movement, in the way he insists on feeding you something real, even when he’s on the brink of exhaustion.

When the ramen is finally done, the kitchen smells like a cozy hug, and he brings the steaming bowl over with a satisfied smile, his usual swagger dimmed slightly by the long hours he's endured. But instead of sitting down at the table, you slide onto his lap. His arms wrap around your waist without hesitation, pulling you closer, his body melting against yours in a sigh that carries all the weight of the day. You can feel the tension leave his shoulders, the stress ebbing away as you press yourself against him. 

“Eat,baby,” he murmurs, pushing the bowl toward you. But when you don’t immediately take a bite, he reaches for the chopsticks, bringing the noodles to your lips himself.

You chuckle softly, but he’s serious, his eyes fixed on you as you take the first bite. “Good?” he asks, as if he isn’t already sure of the answer.

You nod, chewing slowly, savoring the warmth that spreads through you. “Perfect.”

Satisfied, he presses a kiss to your shoulder, but before he can relax completely, you grab the chopsticks from his hand and lift a bite of ramen to his lips. “Your turn,” you say, watching as his expression softens.

He laughs under his breath but doesn’t protest, taking the bite with a small nod of approval. “Good,” he hums, his voice lower now, sleepier. But as tired as he is, he still won’t stop fussing, making sure you take another bite, and another, before he lets himself have one too.

The silence between you is comfortable, filled only by the occasional murmur of approval or the clink of chopsticks against the bowl. Every time you compliment the ramen, he preens a little, leaning in to press another kiss to your cheek, your nose, your lips. And with every bite, you fall a little more in love—not with the food, but with him, with the way he cares for you in the smallest, quietest ways. Even when he’s exhausted, even when he should be the one resting, he’s still making sure you’re taken care of, that you’ve eaten, that you’re loved. And that’s how you know he loves you—because he can’t help but put you first, even when his eyes are heavy with sleep.

You sit there, nestled in his lap, feeding him and being fed, the two of you wrapped up in the warmth of the kitchen. This is how you love him—by just being here, letting him rest in the silence, your presence enough to soothe him after a long day. And in return, his way of loving you is by feeding you, taking care of you even when he’s exhausted. No words are needed; the quiet between you speaks volumes.

“You don’t have to always do this, you know,” you whisper, your fingers gently tracing the edge of the bowl. The ramen is long gone, and he’s running his fingers up your arm, goosebumps erupting in their wake. “Take care of me, I mean.”

Mingyu’s chuckle rumbles in his chest, the vibration sending a warm ripple through your body. “It’s not about having to. I want to,” he says simply, his voice low and sincere. “Besides, you’re terrible at taking care of yourself. Someone has to make sure you eat.”

You can’t help but laugh, even though you feel a lump forming in your throat. His love is always like this—quiet, unspoken, wrapped in the warmth of small actions rather than big words. It’s in the way he insists on feeding you, the way he pulls you closer when he’s tired but still makes sure you’re taken care of.

“I love you,” you whisper, almost instinctively, the words slipping out before you even realize.

He doesn’t respond right away, but you can feel his grip tighten ever so slightly, his arms drawing you closer as if he’s pulling you into the very core of him. Then, softly, so softly you almost miss it, he presses a kiss to your hair and murmurs, “I love you, too.”

[kanmom51]

Jikook in bed - Part 3

Are you sure?! Episodes 4 and 5

Before we get started, a little reminder of parts 1 & 2.

Let me start by saying that the occurrences in this post directly follow the whole ramen convo saga.

After speaking ramen and showering (notice how I haven't added the word "separately" there?🤣 ), and spending some time together downstairs all cozy and everything, they both decide to go to bed.

Let's talk about the pre-sleep coziness for a sec before moving on.

Watching the SNTY choreo and talking about it. JM loving the choreo.

Nothing new here folks.

We also got to learn, once again, just how 'informed' they are of each other's business. That's a nice way of saying they know shit about each other even if we don't tell us they do. Like, JM knowing that JK hasn't slept since NY, including on the flight. And if we're on the sleep talk already then funny how JK didn't know his 'husband' 'is struggling with sleeping lately.

And then, as we got to learn throughout the show, the two, once again, make a joint decision to go to bed.

Enough of that.

Let's get to the juicy part of this post, why don't we?

We start it off the two entangled.

JK has zero issue with JM's feet basically in his face.

Well, he did say JM's toes are cute, so...

Do we notice how JK goes for JM's ankle?

Now holding on to JM's foot with both hands (his mobile in his left hand).

And then letting go.

Reminded me of this moment.

And this one too.

JM going for the hug and JK pulling his hand in.

And they stay like that.

We don't know for just how long.

Discussing sleeping together.

It's not about "are you sleeping with me here?" or "where are you sleeping?"

It's "don't hit my nose today... if you do I'll hit you too..."

No questions asked.

Just facts!!!

How long were they just laying like that, calm, intertwined, BEING?

And they clearly do fall asleep together both laying over the covers.

The editors making sure to let us know that the two were sleeping on that one bed.

That angle of the lone empty third bed. Was it really necessary?

But you'll say: JK moved at some point to the third bed. Yes he did. And why? He already fell asleep on the bed with JM.

There is a purposeful omitting of JK waking up and moving to the third bed. They cameras were rolling, and they clearly could have shown us what happened. Makes you wonder why they didn't show us.

My uneducated guess would be that he moved to the bed on the floor because he was cold at night, and didn't want to wake up JM (they fell asleep over the covers and getting under the cover might have woken JM up). We do see JK covered in the morning. A guess, no more.

That was night 1 of Jeju.

Night 2 is a little different. This time they automatically split into 2 beds. Question I ask is why? Were they told to? Did they think it was better that way?

Either way, we see how JK insists on taking the bed on the floor.

And no, that flimsy excuse of preferring the less soft bed doesn't stand with me. I'm going to go with JK not wanting JM to sleep on the floor. Where Tae was supposed to be sleeping, btw. Funny how that worked out...

And yes, they didn't share a bed for the night, but JM sure couldn't go without his morning cuddles.

Understandable.

Notice how we never see JM getting up? We have zero idea just how much time they lay on JK like that cuddling him. Sob sob. I'm going to go with it not being short lived, which is why they cut the footage.

Ok, so that basically wraps up the 4 nights. 2 in CT (the actual night they spent together in bed the whole night we got zero footage of) and 2 in Jeju.

But how can I end this post without JM's wake up alarm for JK? Waking up is still about bed, right?

When I first saw this I didn't get what was going on... and why JM thought it was so funny.

Well, until I saw this.

Those two...

🤣🤣

[jmstoesblog]

Fallin’ into the trap

Pairing: mafia!Stalker!JK x fem!reader

Summary: You unknowingly walk right into your stalkers trap. (I’m so bad with summaries 😭)

released: 18.08.24

Warnings: manipulation, mention of the word “rape” and “rape toy”, oc nearly gets raped. Not proofread!!

Word count: 1,9k+ (1,969)

Note: I tried making him manipulative, but i didn’t so good so excuse me. I’m aware there are many mistakes and grammatical mistakes, I’ll proofread later!

Masterlist

————

It is late at night when you suddenly feel very hungry. You grumble as you get up from your bed and walk towards the kitchen, you open the cabinets to find nothing.

You sigh and open the fridge.

Nothing.

You look at the wall in your living room, where the clock is hanging. 2 am. You quickly grab your keys, phone and your wallet.

There is a store that is open 24/7. It’s just a 5 minute walk from your apartment. Usually you go with your car, but it broke down a few days ago and is being repaired at the car repair shop (?).

You pull the hood of your hoodie over your head and start walking towards the store. Once you arrive, you open the door, the bell chimes indicating someone entered the store. You pull the hood down and walk to the aisle which you know too well. You grab a few packs of ramen and something to drink and head to the checkout to pay.

You pay and put the food in a white plastic bag. “Thank you. Good bye.”

You shudder when you feel the cold wind, putting your hood over your head and checking the time—2:10 am—you start to walk.

When you pass the dark alley you don’t think anything of it, but scream when somebody pulls you into the alley. The person quickly covers your mouth to prevent you from screaming.

Your back bumps into the front of the person and you can immediately tell it’s a man. The man tries to lift you up but you keep trashing around and screaming against his hand, but they get muffled.

The man kicks the back of your knees, causing you to fall. You yelp in pain as the hard ground scrapes against your knees.

The man clasps his hand over your mouth again and drags you further into the alley. It is very dark but you can still make out the face of the man.

He harshly pins you against the wall. And that’s when your heart stops beating for a second.

Oh no

There are multiple man….

There’s not only one but fucking three man.

And god knows what they wanna do with you.

Are they’re gonna murder me? Rape me?

No this cannot happen. The other two man are leaning against the wall, opposite of you. And only one man is standing in front of you.

You take one second to look at the man, he doesn’t have anything in his hands, nor do the other two. In his pockets also seems to be nothing in.

Weird.

“Fuck!” The man cries out, crouching down, clutching his dick, “get her! She cannot escape!” He yells as you take off, the other two man immediately run behind you.

You’re breathing heavily, running to gods know where. You’re mine is clogged with so many alarms going off.

“Shit!” They’re close you, but not too close.

You get your phone out, almost dropping it in the process due to your trembling hands.

You go to the contacts and without hesitation call him.

“Baby! What a sup—“

“Jungkook! Save me!”

——————

It had been spring 2020 when he first saw you.

You were looking so beautiful. A simple top with baggy jeans, minimal makeup on your face. Oh and that smile of yours. A true natural beauty.

He felt a weird emotion while looking at you

He didn’t know what it was. All he knew is. He wanted you.

That’s when the stalking and following you around started. He’d follow you around everywhere you went. Everywhere.

He knows everything about you. Absolutely everything.

——————

You suddenly hung up.

Jungkook chuckles, “oh, baby.” He mumbles, “if you only knew….”

He stands up, grabs his phone and makes a call to his man, “Make sure you don’t hurt her. Just scare her a little, yeah?” He instantly hangs up, not waiting for a response.

Jungkook makes his way outside, towards his car. Starting the engine, he starts to hum along to your favorite song.

_________

You breathing starts to pick up on its normal pace. You clutch your hoodie with your hands and breath in and out.

You’re hiding behind a trash can in an (?) other alley.

You didn’t expect to be a victim of sexual harassment after him.

Him as in Jeon Jungkook. The most powerful mafia.

As days go by he grows more obsessed with you. And your hatred towards him also grows each day. How can you be with someone that kills people for a living?

You noticed a man wearing all black was everywhere where you were. You’re not stupid, you knew he was stalking you.

One day you confront him, but to your luck it wasn’t Jungkook. It was just a man working under him. Jungkook instructed him to follow you everywhere. And update him of each and every thing you do.

He even installed some cameras in your home, but you didn’t know that. You didn’t need to know.

The train of thoughts in your head are cut off when you notice someone breathing on your neck from behind you.

Before you can think about your next action, you get grabbed from behind and blindfolded, harshly you’re thrown against the hard wall.

“NO! STOP IT!” your hands are pinned above your head, something hard pressing against your thigh, “Leave me!” You scream, but it is all falling on deaf ears.

“Shut up!” The man slaps you, tears start rolling down your eyes. All of these rapists start laughing, mocking you. The pull the hoodie over your head. Luckily you’re wearing a bra.

Before the man can undo your bra, you hear a loud thud.

The hand on your back is gone. Another thud and a groan. The hand holding your wrists is gone. Another thud.

Suddenly, the blindfold is taken off and you gasp at the sight in front of you.

Jungkook the scariest, most powerful mafia (and also your stalker) standing in front of you. His eyes are holding so much love and concern for you. Taking a look behind him you notice the man on the floor, blood oozing out of their noses and mouths.

You flinch when you feel him wiping away your previous tears. In need of comfort and reassurance, you hug him.

“It’s okay. You’re safe.” He murmurs, kissing the top of your head, “I’m here now.” His grip tightens.

“T-thank you, Jungkook.” You stutter out. Tomorrow you will definitely slap yourself for stuttering and hugging him like that. But you are in need of comfort right now, and if he is the only source where you can get it. Then so be it.

“Come on, let’s go home.” Without thinking much about his words, you nod.

—————

After yesterday, he did more than just comfort you. He made you food and after you refused to eat it because you weren’t in the mood, he fed you. He run you a nice, warm bath. He laid out clothes for you to wear (his clothes🤭) he massaged you and let you cry out in his embrace.

You appreciate it all but now it’s time to go.

You quietly walk down the stairs but get confused when you see Jungkook’s bodyguards Setting down boxes with different writings on them , in the living room.

Different writings as in… clothes, jewelry, hygiene and so on..

You shrug it off and walk towards Jungkook, who is sitting on the couch. He is engrossed in his laptop, but once he feels your presence, he immediately closes it, putting his attention on you.

“Morning baby. How did you sleep?” He sweetly asks, his eyes sparkling.

You swallow the lump in your throat, “Jungkook I appreciate everything you did for me, but…. I need to go home…”

“Why?” He sighs out and you’re taken aback by his response, “what do you mean why? I have a life, I have a home, I have a job. I can’t stay here forever. I really appreciate everything you did for me, for saving me, for making me food and all that, but like I said, I can’t stay here.”

You narrow your gaze at him when he doesn’t answer, “wrong.” He stands up, “you almost got gang raped. It is dangerous for you out there, baby.” He pulls you closer by wrapping his arms around your waist.

“You can live with me. I will take care of you, you will never have to work again, everything you want will be provided by me.”

“What if….. something like that will happen again? What will you do? You can’t even defend yourself, y/n. You don’t even know the basics. You need me, baby.” His nose touches your nose, his lips hovering above yours, “and I need you.” He kisses you, passionately.

He suddenly picks you up, “wait! What ar—“ you gasp, Jungkook shakes his head and places his finger on your lips, silencing you, “shh, just relax. I’m not going to do anything, just wanna show you something.” He softly pecks your lips.

He sets you down, gently holding your hand he nods. He takes you upstairs to his bedroom. Once he opens the door the first thing you notice is a few boxes laying on the floor.

They were in the living room……. no?

“Look,” he points his finger in the direction of the walk- in closet, “here are your clothes.” He turns around, “and there is the bathroom.” He gently says while pointing at a door, “there is also everything you need such as a towel, a bathrobe, a toothbrush and for your menstrual cycle, pads”

“You have everything you need here, including me.” He looks at you, “you won’t even have to lift a finger to get what you want.” He pulls you closer, “No, I don’t want that.” You honestly tell him while trying to take a step back.

Jungkook keeps holding you close, not letting you move a single muscle, “no?” He repeats, “you don’t want that? You don’t wanna live with me?” He tilts his head, clicking his tongue.

Oh

He is mad.

There’s pin drop silence. You’re pretty sure everyone left already, even the maids. It’s just you and him. Alone. In this mansion.

You gasp when he suddenly throws you over his shoulder and (gently) throws you on the bed. He hovers over you and tightly grips your wrist, pinning them above your head, manhandling you like he wants.

“Wh—“ you shut up when he glared at you, “be quiet, don’t say a single thing, got it?” He firmly says

A few tears escape your eyes. You’re so scared. Scared of him.

“You know what disgusting men here are, especially in this part of the city. If I let you go, they’re going to haunt you down and gang rape you, they might even kill you. Do you want that? How are you going to defend yourself, baby? They will not sit still until they have you, so let me take care of you and protect you. They won’t even look at you. Once the country knows you’re my girl they won’t look nor touch you.”

“You won’t have be scared anymore after every night you have to walk home alone at night.” He inches his face closer to yours.

He softly kisses you lips, “unless you want that?” He gets off you, “if you wanna be a rape toy for them, then it’s okay.” He sets your wrist free and pulls you up.

“Go on, go. If you’re so desperate.”

You look back at him with glossy eyes, “n-no.”

“I wanna stay safe. Wanna stay with you.” You hug him and he smirks when he hears those particular words from your mouth.

He engulfs you in his embrace.

“Good girl.”

————

Do NOT copy or translate

[noira-l]

𝐓𝐰𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐄𝐝𝐠𝐞

⋆ ★ '𝐘𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞' - 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬

chapter summary: Satoru faces the terrifying possibility of losing you because of someone else’s reckless mistake, but he manages to save you, bringing you back from the edge. Every touch, every word is filled with tenderness, his relief palpable as he steadies you, feeds you, and ensures you feel his warmth beside you.

warnings: near death experience from reader, description of wounds and limbs, blood, first aid (more or less adequate), "hospital" experience, Satoru is a menace (in general and to someone), hurt/comfort (a lot), a lot of caring from Satoru, full blown princess treatment for reader, pet names (princess), he is still teasing but worried.

author's note: This chapter is a little longer than I expected, but I hope you will still enjoy it c:

You lay sprawled on the floor.

Your breaths coming in ragged gasps, the taste of blood sharp and metallic on your tongue.

The ground beneath you felt warm.

You couldn't move your arm, you totally lost contact with the torn tissue. Your non-dominant hand tried to plug the hole that had formed at your abdomen.

Blood pooled around you, thick and dark, clinging to your skin and clothes, spreading beneath your body like ink on paper. Coldness began to creep in, sinking through your muscles, and with it, an unbearable heaviness.

Everything hurt you, it hurt so much.

You were so tired, sleep clawing at the edges of your mind, whispering promises of release.

You knew you didn't have much time.

You glanced out of the corner of your eye one last time, far away, to the exit of the domain that you made so that everyone could escape. Not everyone made it, you didn't have enough strength to hold the way of escape. People screamed and fled deeper into the dark, chased by the curse - leaving you alone.

With a quivering hand slick with blood, you managed to grab your phone, its surface smudged and smeared from your grip. Your thumb trembled as you unlocked the screen, the faint glow casting pale light onto your weary face.

You dialled the first number from your recent calls.

It's worth a try, maybe this domain is still weak enough that the phone signal will manage to get through.

Even the phone seemed heavy to you. You could feel yourself slowly choking as blood rushed to your throat from internal bleeding.

The call connected, and his voice filled your ear, casual, warm, blissfully unaware.

"Hey~ Relax, I know what you're calling for. I can cook that ramen. Got the recipe right here. I've got it all under control!" in the background, you could hear the shuffle of kitchen utensils, the clinking of pots and pans. There was comfort in that sound, familiar, so ordinary.

"Sato…ru.." you rasped, your voice barely more than a breath, your mouth filling with blood as you struggled to speak.

The noise on his end stilled in an instant. Silence fell, tense and sharp.

"Where are you?" his voice was hard, worried, so different from the playful tone he’d used just seconds before.

You tried to answer, but your throat was full, each breath a struggle against the liquid heat rising up, drowning your words.

You managed to roll onto your side. You hissed as you shifted, pressing weight onto your injured arm. Blood escaped from your throat, allowing you to speak a little.

“Civilians... inside the domain..." you whispered, voice thin and fragile, every syllable a labor of will "Two curses.... the other still... lives..." you could hear a sharp clatter from his end, something falling, maybe a knife or a spoon, maybe something heavier, but it was all blending into the haze.

"Where are you, answer me (Y/N)!"

But you didn't listen, trying to gave him important information before your gone.

"Hit the mirror..." you coughed ".. when your done, it's outside."

"Damn it! Answer me!"

"I'm.. not gonna make it.." you paused, feeling your consciousness slipping away "I’m so sorry, ‘toru…" you whispered, dropping your phone on the floor.

Darkness closed in, thick and final, but just before it claimed you, you thought you heard him calling your name, his voice taut and desperate, reaching through the static

★ --

"Shoko! Get over here, now!"

The hospital doors flew open as he appeared, and he didn’t bother to hold back his voice, shouting Shoko’s name with a force that echoed down the sterile hallways

The intensity was enough to scatter anyone who dared cross his path, medical staff and sorcerers alike stepping back, wide-eyed and fearful as Satoru strode forward, not slowing, his face an icy mask of resolve.

"Get out of my way!" he snapped at anyone lingering in the halls, his voice sharp and carrying a barely controlled fury.

Despite his quite controlled exterior, his mind was racing, worry clawing at him like he’d never known. His thoughts clung to the what-ifs, the questions he never let himself think but now couldn’t ignore.

Had he made it in time?

He looked at you.

You looked like a small, battered doll. Your eyes almost lifeless, your expression petrified. The cursed energy in your body barely glimmered. He hugged you tighter to himself, pulling your limbs tighter to hold you even tighter.

"Hold on, please - we're almost there." he murmured, more to himself than to you

Please, please, please stay with me.

He turned to the left corridor.

He found her, and relief mingled with his urgency. Shoko took one look at you in his arms, the blood trailing from your side, the limp, lifeless way your arm hung by a thread, and her face paled, a steely focus settling into her gaze.

"Put her down here." Shoko ordered, snapping out of her shock.

She had no time for questions, no time for explanations. She turned to her assistants, barking orders with a precision born of experience "Prep the room. I’ll need blood transfusions - check her chart, sutures, cursed energy patches - everything we have."

Satoru laid you down on the nearest examination bed, his movements almost mechanical, though the tremor in his hands betrayed the turmoil within him. He stepped back only enough to allow Shoko space to work, his jaw clenched as he watched her assess your injuries.

The assistant returned with everything Shoko had ordered.

"Do you know how much blood she's lost?" she asked hurriedly, putting on gloves and a face mask.

"A lot" was all he could say.

She began with your shoulder, examining the nearly severed arm hanging grotesquely by a strip of muscle and skin. Blood soaked through her gloves as she lifted the limb carefully, eyes dark with concentration.

“Her arm is barely attached,” she muttered under her breath, reaching for a clamp to stem the blood flow “The wound is extensive, torn straight through muscle and tendons.”

Shoko’s assistant hovered nearby, their faces set in grim concentration as they handed her the tools she needed.

"Stop the bleeding in the lower abdomen." ordering one of the astists, she turned to the other "And you start the transfusions."

Satoru stayed silent, his gaze fixed on you, his body taut as he watched her work.

Shoko’s hands moved deftly, sealing off the worst of the blood loss with a cursed energy barrier, pressing her hands to the wound as she worked to restore circulation to your arm. Her reverse cursed technique glowed faintly, a steady stream of healing energy pulsing through your battered shoulder as she mended the torn tendons, weaving muscle fibers back together with meticulous care. The procedure was painstaking, every inch of the damage requiring careful attention, but Shoko’s focus was unshakable.

She had to stabilise you - that was the priority.

Then her hands took care of your stomach.

It took maybe 5-7 minutes, however, for Satoru everything lasted like hours. He had to stand and watch as a group of people covered the view of you.

"How bad is it?" his voice broke through the silence, rough and strained. He wanted any information. Any confirmation that he had made it in time.

Shoko glanced up, her expression guarded. “She’s lost a lot of blood. The damage is severe." she was specific and gave facts. As usual. There was no point in lying to him.

“This..." she traced the torn flesh of your shoulder carefully "It’s so close to major arteries. We’re lucky she made it this far."

Satoru’s fists clenched, his gaze dark as he watched her press a gauze pad to your side, the blood staining it immediately.

"I got here as fast as I could." he murmured, barely more than a whisper, his voice laced with an emotion he seldom showed.

He drifted away in thought for a moment.

Slipping into his mind.

The room seemed too bright and the blood everywhere too dark. The noise of the medical machines was disturbed by the sound of his pounding heart.

His gaze lingered on the trail of blood just below his feet, leading directly to your bed. He watched the small spots on the floor, and observe as they getting bigger, literally growing before his eyes, consuming his shoes.

The sight of your body in a pool of blood flashed through his mind.

Over, and over, and over.

And over again.

Shoko's voice snapped him out of his thoughts.

To her, Satoru simply stood with his head bowed down, stone-faced.

"Gojo. Her condition is stable. Please wait outside, I will take care of everything now."

Satoru noded, his shoulders slumping.

He moved closer to the bed, he put his hand on your palm, squeezing it lightly, before turning to Shoko.

"Thank you, Shoko." he murmured, his voice barely audible.

He glanced at you again before leaving the room, watching you disappear again behind a curtain of people who were trying to keep you alive.

He knew what he had to do now.

★ --

Satoru appeared after a while in the corridor, his footsteps echoing against the polished floor as he walked.

An energy pulsed off him in waves.

The air around him felt charged, almost volatile, his usual lighthearted demeanor replaced by something colder, something that made those nearby shrink back. His gaze was concealed behind the bandages, his expression was unreadable, a stone mask that gave nothing away.

From her spot by the wall, Shoko watched him with a wary gaze, a cigarette still held between her fingers as she blew out a last puff of smoke.

Her hard work has paid off - she has stabilised you.

She took in the scene as he approached - the smears of blood staining his jacket, the dark flecks of cursed energy lingering in the air around him, and the deep, cold set of his jaw. She could only imagine the wreckage he’d left behind, the remnants of whatever curse had dared to harm you.

As he neared her, he drew a white handkerchief from his pocket, unfolding it with calm precision. Shoko’s eyes followed the movement, noting the slight tremor in his fingers as he began methodically wiping away the purple blood splattered across his hands.

He moved slowly, almost obsessively, wiping each knuckle, each crease, as if trying to erase every trace of what he’d done.

"Did it suffer?" she asked.

Satoru finished wiping his hands, folding the bloodstained cloth neatly before pocketing it. He didn’t answer immediately.

"More than enough." he replied after a while, his voice like steel.

The famous Gojo Satoru getting his hands dirty.

He glanced back toward your room, his shoulders relaxing ever so slightly. The fury that had burned in him faded, replaced by the exhaustion.

"Can I… see her?" his voice was low, uncharacteristically tentative.

Shoko nodded "Yes, the worst is over, she’s sleeping now."

"Thank you - again." he gave her a nod.

Without thinking, he approached the door and pulled gently on the handle, entering the room quietly.

Shoko saw that for a moment, he was the man who'd rushed to your side, not the sorcerer who’d torn through curses with cold precision.

★ --

The soft hum of teleportation barely registered as Satoru reappeared in his own home, the familiar surroundings both grounding and jarring. The scent of something burnt hit his nose first, and then he noticed the plume of smoke curling up from the kitchen. His stomach sank. He’d left the ramen on the stove, the pot now emitting a dark, acrid smell.

"Do you have any idea what you almost did!?" Megumi yelled, his tone sharp "You left the ramen on the stove - almost burned down the kitchen!"

Satoru opened his mouth to respond, maybe to offer a laugh or a joke, but the words died as Megumi's gaze softened, his expression changing as he took in Satoru’s face. The stone face, the faint streaks of blood on his collar, the tension that lingered despite his attempts to relax. Megumi’s scolding faded, and worry took its place. Tsumiki who appeared next to him had the same look on her young face.

"I’m sorry about the ramen, kiddo. I was… distracted. Something happened." Satoru’s tone shifted, calm and steady, though a note of heaviness remained "There was an accident. Your mom... she got hurt pretty badly, but she’s in good hands now. She’s being taken care of."

Both kids froze, their faces mirroring an all-too-familiar look of fear. Tsumiki’s hands flew to her mouth, and Megumi’s normally composed demeanor broke, his eyes wide "Is she going to be okay?" he asked, his voice soft.

"Can we see her?" Tsumiki asked, voice barely above a whisper.

"Yes." Satoru assured them, placing a gentle hand on each of their shoulders "She’s stable now. She’s safe." he paused, his voice softening as he added "You’ll be able to see her soon. I’ll take you both to visit her in a day or two, once she’s rested a bit. Or maybe she'll even be home by then."

The kids nodded, though their expressions were still clouded with worry. He offered them a head pat and reassuring smile, one that felt fragile even as he gave it, before excusing himself to gather a few things for you.

Satoru went to your shared room, pulling together a bag of things you’d want with you. He packed the essentials - clean clothes, hygiene products, a book you hadn’t finished yet with the worn bookmark you always used. His hand lingered over his softest pair of socks, slipping them into the bag because he knew how cold you got in clinic rooms. He added a few of your favorite snacks, the ones you always reached for on the top shelf, and finally, a small cushion from the couch that still held a trace of your favorite scent. He knew these were just small things, but they felt like tiny comforts he could offer to make you feel a little less alone when you wake up.

After he’d packed everything, Satoru paused in the quiet of the apartment. The kids had gone to bed, their lingering glances filled with worry and questions they hadn’t voiced.

He took a deep breath, trying to quiet the aftershocks of fear and anger that had burned through him. His fingers curled around the strap of the bag, as though anchoring himself in the thought of seeing you again, of bringing these small tokens of home to you.

He tried everything to prevent his mind from racing again.

With one last glance at the quiet apartment, he teleported back to your hospital room.

★ --

Light, more brightness.

More noise.

And more pain.

Your eyes flutter open, everything slowly coming into focus. A heaviness settles over your body, a dull ache throbbing in every limb. As you shift slightly, you catch sight of the IV needle taped to your hand, a soft bandage wrapped around the other, the skin numb, likely due to the strong meds they’d pumped into your system.

You exhale, bracing yourself as you slowly rise into a semi-sitting position, feeling the stiffness in your muscles protesting with every movement.

You made it through.

You're alive.

He saved you.

You knew it, you didn't see or feel him coming for you, yet only he would be able to get to you so quickly. No one else would have been able to help you.

Gratitude wells up inside you, mingled with the lingering haze of exhaustion. You don't know how to thank him. You would like to repay him in every bit of your existance.

You feel like you could lie there for hours, let the heaviness of sleep pull you back under. But, despite it all, you can’t ignore the small flicker of relief that you’re still here.

You survived today to die tomorrow.

It’s been an hour or maybe two when you tried to be awake - time’s hard to gauge in this half-dazed state.

The thought crosses your mind - just how long did you sleep?

You squint at the dim light seeping into the room, but there’s no sense of time here.

You start to egzaminate yourself.

Your dominant hand feels strange, disconnected - it’s there, resting on the blanket, but no matter how much you try, you can barely move it. The faintest twitches respond to your will, but there’s almost no control, like it’s not quite part of you. It’s unsettling, a reminder that your body has been through more than it can comfortably handle.

You pull the duvet, taking in the scattering of bruises and scratches that color your legs, each one a map of the recent battle. Carefully, you place your other hand on your hip, fingers brushing over a new scar, raised and raw, but without the sharpness of stitches. You can touch it, sure, and yet your senses are muted, dulled under the weight of painkillers coursing through your system. There’s a heaviness in your head too, a sluggishness, that made you almost sloppy.

It's not so bad - you need to thank Shoko. You could feel that she's not finished yet, she probably didn't have the strength anymore, so she made what she could.

At least you had an arm, right?

A glance around the room brings your eyes to the chair beside the small cupboard. On it sits a familiar black bag, half-zipped, with the fabric bulging slightly from the careful packing. Resting on the cupboard is your book, its cover worn, your favorite bookmark peeking out from between the pages. A small smile tugs at your lips despite the discomfort.

You reach toward the bag, tugging it closer, the weight of it almost too much as your fingers dig into the straps. With effort, you haul it onto the bed, wincing as the motion tugs at sore muscles. Slowly, carefully, you unzip it, peeling back the top to reveal neatly folded fabrics inside. Clean clothes, hygiene products, snacks, a big sweater that’s unmistakably Satoru’s, and a pair of warm socks - those oversized ones you’d always borrowed.

You smile, the simple sight of them lifting your spirits just a little. Satoru’s little touches are everywhere in this moment; he’d thought of every detail. With a bit of effort, you tug on the socks, feeling their warmth, thanking him for thinking of your poor, cold limbs.

You looked at the sweater.

Your gaze shifts to the doorway, lingering a moment to ensure no one is around. The hall outside is empty, and the door to your room is slightly ajar, but not a soul is passing by. Satisfied, you turn back to Satoru’s sweater, drawing it closer, letting your fingers sink into the soft fabric, drowning in the scent of his cologne mixing with something unmistakably him - a warm, comforting aroma that always brings you a sense of calm.

It’s not your fault he smells so perfect; you’d picked out that cologne yourself, after all, and it suits him like nothing else.

You allow yourself a quiet smile, eyes still closed, feeling both comforted and amused at how easily his scent seems to chase away the chill of the room.

Gritting your teeth, you try to sit up, sliding your legs slowly toward the edge of the bed. A hiss escapes your lips as the pain bites sharply, sending a wave of discomfort through your side. You pause, steadying yourself, breathing through the sensation. You see that he brought you disposable flip-flops, that were lying next to this side of the bed.

You’re just getting used to the discomfort when Shoko enters the room, her expression composed, professional, her posture radiating a calm authority. There’s a brief flicker of warmth in her eyes as she sees you awake, but it’s quickly replaced by her focused, clinical gaze. For a moment, you’re not her friend lying here in a hospital bed but her patient.

She steps closer, her eyes sweeping over you with that practiced precision, assessing every visible sign of injury.

"How are you feeling?" she asks, her voice soft yet purposeful, each word measured, carrying an undercurrent of genuine concern.

"I’m… here." you manage, letting out a weak chuckle "Can barely feel my hand, though. Just feels… dull. Heavy, I guess. Thank you for saving me."

She nods, her brow furrowing as she shifts to examine your hand. Her touch is careful, her fingertips pressing lightly along your arm, tracing the lines where numbness blurs into sensation.

"No problem. You’re feeling dullness in the hand?" she repeats, more to herself than to you, her mind clearly already analyzing what’s needed.

"Yeah, like I know it’s there, but it’s not exactly responding the way it should" you explain, trying to move your fingers slightly but finding only minimal response.

Shoko mutters something under her breath, her gaze fixed on the IV as she reaches to adjust it.

"Alright, I’m putting this drip on hold for now." she announces, her tone shifting briefly into one of practiced command. She carefully unfastens the line, leaving the cannula still in place "I don’t want to remove this completely yet. I’ll need it again tomorrow. For now, though, I want things to stabilize a bit on their own."

You watch her work, noticing the subtle exhaustion in her movements "So… you’ll take care of it tomorrow?" you ask, curiosity slipping into your voice.

Like, you want to have an a functioning arm - if it's avaiable?

She nods, her gaze softening for a moment as she steps back, folding her arms and glancing at the IV "Yes. Your arm should start feeling more normal by then, but I need to let things knit together a little first. And, honestly…" she pauses, rubbing her eyes briefly "I don’t have the strength right now. I’ll be more useful tomorrow, after I get some rest. I'm sorry."

You thank her and study her, seeing the weight of her own exhaustion etched faintly in the way she holds herself, the way she sometimes blinks a little longer than usual. Her commitment to her work is unmistakable, but you catch the signs that even she is running low.

"How long did I sleep, anyway?" you ask, breaking the silence.

"Almost two days." she replies, her voice calm, matter-of-fact. Her gaze shifts back to you, assessing your response as though you might suddenly react to the news.

Your brows rise "Two days? That’s… a long time."

Shoko shakes her head slightly.

"Not really. Honestly, after the state you were in, I thought you might be out for a week." she crosses her arms, her gaze steady "You lost a lot of blood, and you nearly lost a limb. Two days is impressive recovery for you."

You nod slowly, absorbing her words, realizing how close you must have come to something worse. The weight of it settles on you, a quiet reminder of just how lucky you are to still be here.

"So… Satoru’s out on a mission?" you ask, hoping to change the subject, if only to lighten the mood a bit.

Shoko reaches up, twirling a strand of her hair thoughtfully "He left a few hours ago. But he should be back later. He sat by your side the whole time." her gaze flickers to the door, as if expecting him to walk in at any moment.

You nod, a small, relieved sigh escaping you "Understand."

You wonder what the kids must feel. They probably know about your condition.

Shoko settles into a chair beside your bed, glancing down at her notes, then back up at you. There’s a hint of something in her gaze - frustration mixed with lingering concern. She takes a breath, her voice soft but firm.

"It's a miracle, really. You almost didn't make it." she says, her tone steady, but her eyes hold a fierceness that surprises you "All because someone couldn't do thier job correctly."

Your brows furrow as you try to recall the details of the mission, piecing together what you remember. Everything comes back in flashes.

Endo Kyō, the assistant who was assigned to you and participated in that mission with you.

By your arrival, his job was to secure the area and assess the threat. According to his analysis, there was a grade one curse in the domain.

In fact, there were two curses in the domain. However, you had no idea about this.

One was trapped in the domain of the other - the one that attacked you first inside, wasn't responsible for the domain. You knew something was wrong when, after killing this one, the domain didn't start to disintegrate. You thought it was a matter of place or vail that the assistant should apply. Through the effect of the domain, you were unable to effectively sense the presence of the other one on time.

You were outclassed.

The second curse emerged just as you were making a hole in the shell so that civilians could safely leave the area.

You got hit, unable to dodge the attack.

"He seemed fine as a person, maybe a little weird. He's new, mistakes happen. Like... I remember my beginnings. He'll learn." you sigh resignedly.

Shoko’s expression sharpens, a seriousness in her eyes that makes you pause "He’s not new." she says flatly.

"Huh?"

"He originally worked in Kyoto. He was transferred here after a similar incident, a really similar case." you listened in disbelief, looking at Shoko with wide eyes.

"And..." she continued "Because he has connections with higher-ups, it was decided to transfer him disciplinary to our grounds, rather than dismiss him for his apparent negligence." her words sink in like a stone, leaving you in stunned silence.

You stare at her, the shock sinking in like ice. Your fists clench at your sides, the dull ache in your hand momentarily forgotten as your fingers press into your palm. You are livid.

What a fucking asshole.

Shoko watches you, her own expression dark.

"Well... Gojo had an even worse reaction." she says quietly, glancing down as if recalling the scene.

"What do you mean?"

"Gojo found out what Endo did not long after you were brought in." she begins.

Oh no.

"I don’t think I’ve ever seen him like that. He marched right up to Endo and tore into him. It was… intense." she stated "He didn’t even gave him a chance to speak before he cornered him, demanding to know if he had any sense of care at all. Told him that as a assisnant, he should take his comrades’ lives as seriously as he takes his own and that his failure is just as spectacularly dumb as he is."

She goes on, eyes narrowing "He pointed out every mistake and every omission to him as if he had no filter. I guess he controled himself a little at least, because he looked like he was fighting not to snap. The guy nearly passed out there."

You couldn't believe what you were just hearing.

"In the end he said something along the lines that if he saw him near his wife again - he won't hold back and won't care if someone is watching, he'll just kill him on the spot."

★ --

After some time a pang of hunger twists in your stomach, and the uncomfortable reminder that you’ll need the bathroom soon follows.

You try to get up again, struggling with the same discomfort as before.

"Oh no~ The sleeping beauty is already up and I missed the wake-up kiss." you heard his voice behind you. You chuckled weakly. He goes around your bed.

Despite his lighthearted words, you can sense the undercurrent of concern beneath them. You can see it more when he comes closer a heaviness, a weight that’s hard to miss.

"You really shouldn’t be getting up, princess." he murmurs, his fingers gentle and lingering as they steady your shaking body "Wouldn't want you losing a glass slipper on the way to the bathroom, would we?"

You roll your eyes, managing a faint laugh "Wrong princess, you dork. You don't have to help me, I'll manage somehow, you did enough for me." you try to be polite, but a hiss escape your lips, when you stand for a first time.

"Consider it royal decree: this dork is helping you, no arguments." he replies, slipping his arm more firmly around you despite your protest, his playful tone does little to mask the concern in his eyes as he holds you steady.

Together, you make your way out into the corridor, Satoru guiding you carefully, matching his steps to your slower pace. His hand never leaves you, and he keeps glancing over, checking on you, asking if you’re alright, if anything’s hurting more than it should. You answer quietly, pointing out the sharper aches and the duller bruises. The warmth of his arm around you, his attention, feels steadying, grounding you in a way that’s as comforting as it is unusual.

But of course he had to tease you a little bit.

"You know, for a princess, you’re not exactly gliding gracefully down the hall. Need me to summon some royal attendants to carry you on a velvet throne?"

You scoff, wincing slightly as another sharp ache flares up "No throne required. I’ll walk, thank you very much."

He chuckles, adjusting his hold on you "Brave as ever. But if you start fading from exhaustion, I’m totally picking you up. Wouldn’t want you fainting and having to explain to the entire staff how their little Sleeping Beauty managed to end up on the floor."

You roll your eyes, his teasing both comforting and mildly embarrassing "They’d have to call you Prince Charming in that case, huh?"

Satoru grins, dramatically flicking an imaginary cape over his shoulder "I knew you saw it in me. But don’t worry, I’m perfectly fine with just ‘Your Highness’ for now. ‘Prince Charming’ can wait for special occasions."

The faint murmur of clinic activity surrounds you, and as the two of you walk through the corridor, you catch a few people glancing your way, their expressions a mixture of curiosity and surprise. Satoru doesn’t seem to notice, or maybe he just doesn’t care. He’s focused on you, steadying you with each step, his hand firm yet gentle on your side.

His words are teasing, playfull as ever. But his touch is delicate, caring - and it's making your heart flutter.

When no one’s around, you feel his fingers subtly adjusting the back of your hospital gown, and though he doesn’t mention it, you know it’s his quiet way of looking out for you.

When you finally reach the bathroom, he stops just outside, his arm slipping away but his gaze fixed on you with an almost exaggerated seriousness "Now, don’t go pulling a Cinderella and sneaking away, alright? I’ll be here if you need me to hold your royal gown or anything. Very dignified service - I’m quite experienced."

You chuckle despite yourself, finding his lighthearted support surprisingly pleasant "Yeah, sure, I’ll call my ‘knight in shining armor’ if I need any bathroom assistance."

He smirks, leaning casually against the wall "Good. Because a princess should never have to face a hallway alone."

You linger in the bathroom a moment, catching your reflection in the small, unflattering mirror. Your face stares back, hollowed with exhaustion, skin pale and dull under the fluorescent light. Your hair clings in greasy strands, reminding you just how long you’ve been out. It's strange seeing yourself this way - vulnerable, worn down, every bruise and shadow a testament to the last ordeal. Your outfit must be pretty ridiculous too with his oversize sweater, hospital gown, oversized socks and slippers.

Your look is not very princess-like.

You wonder if you should talk to him about what happends now.

However, you conclude that it is better to wait until you return from your meal so that you can talk to him in peace, unless he is called away on a mission.

When you step out, Satoru’s waiting right there, his hand reaching out to take yours. The familiar warmth of his touch steadies you, grounding you once more.

"What else does my princess need?" he teases softly, his tone light yet gentle "A breakfast feast? A little pampering session?" you pass him a tired smile, there’s still a glint of mischief in his tone "How about I whisk you off to your favorite ramen place? I could get us there in two seconds flat."

"As tempting as that sounds, I don’t think I could handle being teleported just yet. And I don't like it that much." you laugh, shaking your head. You wouldn't go anywhere in this outfit anyway.

"Right." he nods, pretending to think it over "Hmm. Guess the royal express is on hold today. "he says with a mock sigh of disappointment "Alright, we’ll go with the classic approach - school cafeteria it is. Nothing but the finest cuisine for you."

It's been a long time since you ate food from the school canteen. You wonder if it's as dull and bland, as it was back in your school days.

With a reassuring squeeze, he guides you down the corridor, his arm firmly around you as you both navigate to the a small room. A tiny, cramped and bright room, with a few tables, coffe maschine and a microwave, where the medical assistants usually take their meals. The antiseptic smell is a sharp contrast to the warmth of his arm and his steady presence beside you, as though he’s somehow blocking out the cold, sterile atmosphere.

When you reach the cafeteria, he gently seats you on one free table. He gently steers you into a seat, his hands lingering for a moment as if making sure you’re settled.

"Now, stay put." he commands lightly"Can’t have the princess fainting. I’ll be back in a flash."

You take a moment, resting your head back against the seat, allowing the gentle hum of the cafeteria to settle around you. It’s oddly peaceful here, the faint murmur of voices blending with the rhythmic clatter of dishes.

It’s only a few moments before he’s back, a tray laden with food and drinks balanced effortlessly in his hands. He grins, setting it down with a flourish "Behold, a feast fit for a princess." he declares, gesturing grandly to a couple of steaming bowls of soup, a small pile of rice, orange chcicken and some kind of dessert.

You raise an eyebrow, but you smile a little anyway "I think you might be confusing 'princess' with 'army,' but thank you."

"Look, every princess deserves options. You don’t know what royal cravings might strike once you start eating." he starts to lay everything out on a small table.

You laugh, the sound softer than usual but genuine "Well, I appreciate the royal treatment."

His gaze softens, the usual teasing glint tempered by something warmer "You deserve it." he says, his voice barely above a murmur.

You're looking at him, your eyes a little wide, you're holding on a little blush.

You give Satoru a grateful smile as he hands you the cutlery, and you gave each other quick "Itadakimasu" before digging in. Satoru starts eating right away, taking his first bite with his usual relaxed ease, but as you reach for your chopsticks with your non-dominant hand, reality sinks in quickly.

After a few frustrating tries, you reach for the spoon, hoping it’ll be easier, only to watch a scoop of soup drip right back into the bowl.

Well.. this is embarresing.

Satoru’s gaze flicks to you, catching the small, defeated sigh you let out as you set the spoon down. Quietly, he puts his chopsticks aside and shifts his chair closer, his expression warm and amused as he leans in without a word.

You glance at him, brow raised in surprise "What are you doing?"

"What’s it look like?" he murmurs, reaching for the spoon and swirling it through the soup with exaggerated elegance "Need a hand, princess?"

You raise a brow, a mix of embarrassment and exasperation flooding through you "Satoru, you don’t have to - "

"Oh, but I’m honored to assist." he interrupts, holding the spoon up with a little flourish "A princess deserves only the finest dining experience, after all." his grin is maddeningly playful as he offers the spoon to you "Now, I believe it’s customary for royalty to accept help gracefully."

Heat rises to your cheeks, but your stomach growls in agreement, much to his amusement. He raises an eyebrow, clearly delighting in your hesitation "See? Your stomach’s on board. Now, let’s get you to eat."

Reluctantly, you lean forward, taking the spoonful he offers, trying to ignore how closely he’s watching you. You know it, even if you don't see his eyes, you could feel them on you. The warmth of the soup is comforting, but his actions - soft yet mischievous - truly catches you off guard. He scoops up another spoonful, waiting patiently. You feel the gaze of everyone in the room on you. Satoru seems to ignore it.

"This is ridiculous." you mumble, cheeks flushed.

"Oh, hush. Have some table manners, will you?" he teases, holding the next spoonful right in front of your mouth "It’s rude to speak with your mouth full, you know. Now, aaa~"

★ --

Shoko steps into the room, clipboard in hand and a focused look on her face. She pauses mid-step, though, taking in the sight before her.

There you are, on the bed, head resting peacefully on Satoru’s shoulder, breaths slow and steady in sleep. Your healthy arm is entwined with his, fingers curled against his sleeve as if holding onto him even in your dreams. A soft, well-worn book rests in his lap, open to a half-read page, hinting that you two had been reading together until sleep claimed you.

Satoru glances up as Shoko enters, catching her eye and lifting a finger to his lips in a silent request to keep quiet. There’s a surprising gentleness in his expression, something soft and protective that Shoko rarely sees, especially in him. He gives her a slight smile, nodding subtly toward you as if to say - Let them rest a little longer.

Shoko raises an eyebrow but doesn’t make a sound. She’d always known Satoru had a soft spot for you, but seeing it here, so unguarded, speaks volumes. She makes a note on her clipboard, then gives a little nod and steps back, closing the door softly behind her.

Satoru watches her go, his hand shifting slightly to adjust the blanket over you and brushing a strand of hair away from your face. He glances down at you, a faint smile tugging at his lips as he returns his attention to the book, careful not to disturb you, content to sit in this rare moment of peace.

He is so glad that you are here, with him.

© noira-l 2024 | all rights reserved. do not copy, translate, modify, or redistirbute my work without permission

tl: @kalopsia-flaneur, @dainslumi, @syneyam, @idiotgojo, @itachiiwrites

[sashi-ya]

東京 NIGHTS mini event

𝑨 𝑫𝑹𝑰𝑵𝑲, 𝑨𝑵𝑫 𝑹𝑨𝑴𝑬𝑵 𝑻𝑶𝑶 ㅤㅤ 𓂃 ࣪˖ trafalgar law x f! reader

⤹˚ synopsis. would you invite your work colleague Law for ramen after some drinks at the bar?

requested by: @leftladyluminary ➡ May I request Law + A drink after work in a little bar of Shinjuku Golden Gai with a fem reader maybe a little nsfw (or completely lol) tw: MNDI. alcohol usage. nami x vivi heavily implied. abusive coworkers. law saving the night. smut with a "lot" of "plot". mutual pinning that both realized about it just now. oral. nipple play. vag sex. unprotected sex. creampie implied. did they eat the ramen? who knows. The bar does exist! it's the Bar Coo at Shinjuku Golden Gai! same as the train station (Yamanote Line, from Shibuya to Ueno) wc: 4.7k (sowwy) masterlist

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤI need sleep. I need sleep. I need sleep “(Name), come with us to the izakaya! Let’s have some beers!” ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤI just want to go home… “Law is coming too, it’s a miracle!” ㅤLaw? Law? I think I can afford yet another night of barely three hours sleep…

ㅤ“I’ll be there in a minute, let me turn off my computer and grab my coat!”

It’s not new information that your jobs are overexploiting you, working for such big company as the Don Quijote chain requires a lot. It is also not new information that once in a while -almost every time- you need to go have some drinks with your colleagues and bosses… because if you don’t, you aren’t engaging enough in that “work family” nobody likes, but everyone pretends to love.

There was a certain colleague, however, who always finds ways to sneak and never get to the bar with you… and that man, precisely, is the man of your dreams. He doesn’t know, and you are sure you shouldn’t tell him, as him is no other than the boss’ nephew.

Trafalgar Law, a tall man with an unfriendly façade but definitely handsome features. Or more than that, you could say. His eyes sometimes shine golden like the earrings he wear, and sometimes silver like the winter lights in Roppongi. He is covered in tattoos, a pretty unique characteristic for being an employee but a lot more logical if you think a little further about his Uncle. Nobody can say it out loud, but all of you know… they are most probably part of the Yakuza.

Despite that, you couldn’t care a less… Law has been your crush since the day you watch him walk into the office so carefree.

It’s a cold night, winter is coming faster than expected. It always does. November ends up quickly, and the first snows begin to tint everything in pristine white. Your long coat covers your body up to your ankles, as well as Law’s black one. You watch him walk, in silence. Most of your coworkers always try to rip words from his mouth, but he is not really interested in engaging in any conversations.

You watch his tattooed fingers scrolling through his phone, as all of you walk the streets of Shinjuku. The Golden Gai awaits for you in their little old Izakayas, all packed within a narrow passage of warm lights, and flickering signs.

“You are staring way too much, (Name)” Nami, one of your coworkers whispers.

You widen your eyes… “Is it that noticeable?”

“It is, but don’t worry… we all think the same, he is hot but also out of reach. I mean, maybe not for you, that is. You are more than beautiful but remember where he is coming from… be careful” she says, being pure honesty with you. She is only trying to protect you. And Nami is completely right, you should be careful with Law.

You smile at her, and both cuddle in each other’s arm grabbing until one of your colleagues chimes and ask the rest if it would be ok to try for nothing a certain bar that looks a little… secret -suspicious, too-.

“Coo bar? It looks weird… but the painting on the door makes it look pretty interesting” you think, waiting for them to knock on that painted wooden door that reminds you somehow to Van Gogh’s style.

A little window slides open, and a pair of black slanted eyes scan you all. They close the little gate and immediately after the door opens welcoming all of you inside.

Law allows everyone to walk pass first, while his eyes scan the surroundings. You, of course, are not the exception.

“Please, girls” he says, paying special attention to your burning cheeks. Nami, who is not really interested in men, simply smile, and walks inside the bar. You, remain a little bit more lost in his golden eyes, but ultimately walk inside too.

You were mostly sure he wouldn’t even put a foot inside, and rather walk away once all of you were unaware. But tonight, it was different, he stayed.

The inside of the tiny bar looks more like an old Japanese living room transformed into a restaurant. The walls are made of wood, and there are many random things hanging from them. Old maps, old posters, photographs, even a big hamster plush that looks as old as you.

The scent of yakiniku fills the ambience, and your stomachs growl with the simple thought of tasting that salty and sweet meat grilled right in front of you.

All of you get into the biggest table you could find, but the tight will be fit nonetheless. You, who always chose to sit last, this time had to move a little to the side. The man of long legs, and tattooed hands decided to sit right next to you.

“Are you comfortable, Law-san?” you ask, trying to make enough room for him to be sitting comfortably.

“Yes, thank you (Name)-ya” he says, kindly than you have ever listened him spoke.

You smile, softly, looking down at your fidgeting fingers.

Soon enough a friendly waitress comes ready to take your order. Of course not before putting the so awaited portable grill in the middle of the table.

The more meat, the better. All of you ask for it, and a beer each… that you are sure it will turn in more than three.

The conversation bases in gossiping about the office, nothing really deep and most of the topics all end up in laughter. Law, however, doesn’t really laugh and you are sure he is not even listening… he is just pretending to.

You take swift looks at him, glancing with the side of your eye at the tattoos of his hands; at how his phone screen shines constantly with more and more notifications. He must be a very required man, and most probably has a lover already if not more than one.

Of course, you are not an unpopular woman either. And most of your male coworkers always try their -non efficient, and pretty cringey- seductive tricks with you the moment a drop of alcohol reaches the tip of their tongues.

“(Name)! here, I grilled this one for you!” one of them say, using the clamps to pass you a piece of meat.

“Oh, thank you…” you murmur, receiving the food in your plate. A thing you shouldn’t have done as that -simple smelly monkey- man, thinks you want everything from him for just accepting a piece of tiny meat. -as tiny as his dick, probably-

Most of them also offer you to serve you more alcohol, as ordering for a glass turned into “bring us the bottle, it’s faster and cheaper”. They were right, it was cheaper. But annoying.

Nami, whose blood began turning into bubbly alcohol, throws to Vivi’s arms. Yet another sweet coworker, who is married, but her eyes-only shine for the redhaired coworker that’s always by your side. The moment they indulge in alcohol, their inhibitions are set free, and what’s meant to be… it’s meant to be.

And that means a sudden trip to the women bathroom, where you were not clearly invited -unless you were into it, in which case they were more than pleased to welcome you in-. But that also means you are sitting all by yourself now. Surrounded by idiots who, as well as the ladies, wanted to end up their night on a love hotel or maybe just the bathroom of the bar with you.

Law seems unfazed, and keeps eating, drinking, and reading something on his phone. Why is he there, after all, you have no idea.

As soon as Nami and Vivi’s spot are free, the guy who offered meat slides right next to you. Thinking he is sleek, only to hit the table and make most of the drinks to spill on top of it. Yet, he is not even worried about it; he is just interested in one thing, you.

“More?” he asks, coming closer and closer, forcing you to consequently graze Law’s arm with yours.

“Uh.. I’m full thanks” you lie. You aren’t even half full, but you don’t want shit from him.

“I meant in your glass, let me serve you…” he whispers, grimacing. The bottle lets its liquids pour into your tiny glass, with the strong intention of getting you as wasted as possible.

You swallow, you won’t drink that up. Not all of it. But he keeps coming closer, and by now, your leg also touches Law’s. And then your back, until it is too noticeable for the tattooed pal to stand up in a violent, quick motion.

“How much are you going to insist on her? She is practically sitting on my lap from how much you are bending over her” Law says, looking at him with eyes on fire and disgust on his voice.

“Traf- Trafalgar-san, I-“ he stutters, he is not worried about you but about his job continuation after this.

“Get the fuck away from here, I don’t want to see you anymore” Law spits, he is not interested in fighting. He has had enough. You are not sure if it was because your body touched him, or because he was trying to defend you… but in any case, you are grateful he did.

You look to the ground, knowing your position wasn’t safe either. This will have consequences, and misogyny always finds the way to win.

Law sits back down, as the rest move away from the long wooden seat to let the bastard go away. But right before he stood up, he whispered at you disgusting words you were already waiting to hear…

“You are a little whore, and you know that. You are probably sucking his dick, aren’t you… slut. Be very careful when you walk home alone tonight”

You chose to keep quiet, as everybody else did. Because nobody would stood up for a woman, not in a men’s world.

You watch him go, drinking almost all the glass in one chug. You needed something to drown the fear and disgust you were feeling right now.

“Are you ok, (Name)-ya? Don’t worry, he has his days counted” Law suddenly says, grabbing his phone again.

“I am… thank you so much, Law-san” you shily and respectfully appreciate his help. “I am sorry for ruining the night…” you whisper, finally.

“It wasn’t your fault, at all. Men like that don’t belong in our organiz- company”

You swallow… and soon you realize what he meant when he mentioned the man had his “days counted”. You try to think of any words to spare the life of the abuser, but soon you chose to stay silent. You didn’t force him to do anything, after all.

Nami and Vivi leave the bar, without saying much. You didn’t want to tell them about the “situation”; you didn’t want to ruin their -lustful- end of the night.

As for the rest of your coworkers, most stood up to smoke outside, while others already took their leaves. Law, remained on his seat until one of the guys invited him to go smoke with them.

There is no point in staying; that drunk bastard won’t probably fulfil his threats against you as he is most probably passed out somewhere else due to the alcohol. Therefore, you pay your share, take your coat, and get outside the bar.

You try to leave without alerting anyone, but it is impossible to do so as one of your coworkers wave goodbye at you.

“Oi, (Name)? are you leaving already?! See you on Monday!” he screams; a scream that catches everyone’s attention, including Law’s.

You wave at them and begin to walk away with your keys in your hands and praying to reach for Shibuya as fast as possible to take the JR towards home… hopefully safe and sound by the end of the night.

A sudden pull in your wrist scares you and wasn’t for his fast reaction one of the keys would have ended carved somewhere on Law’s body.

“Oi, calm down. It’s me. I heard what he said on the bar, let me accompany you”  Law says, putting down your hand slowly so he doesn’t get hurt by your keys.

You sigh, relived. Law is still a stranger, but if you had to die you would prefer doing it by the hand of a hot killer…

“Thank you, Law-san. But do you think is it ok? What are they gonna think? Plus, I live in Ueno” you ask, worried for future -unfortunately fake- rumours.

Law lifts his shoulders. “I personally don’t give a single fuck about that. I do, however, care for your safety”

You scoff sweetly, he doesn’t seem like one… but he is, indeed, a gentleman. A real man.

“If you don’t mind, then let’s go. I will repay the favour with some delicious ramen if you allow me. Right in front of my apartment we have the best convenience store of all Tokyo”  you chime, happily. Perhaps you mistaken this by a date, but at least for some seconds you indulge on the happy thought of it.

Law nods. “The best one? What makes it so special?”

“It’s special because I spent many nights studying there late at night having the best instant ramen” you inform, proud of it.

He scoffs, and a little smirk appears on his lips. “Good, I wanna try the ramen there. As long as it doesn’t contain bread, I’m good”

You notice he can be a lot more interesting than what you thought; despite keeping the mysterious aura, he is a very talkative guy when he feels comfortable. And, apparently, he does with you.

Most of the conversation turns into a nerdy talk about his favourite comic series, that it is surprisingly the same as yours. And you couldn’t be happier, at least a dreadful night ended up better than expected.

Getting to Shibuya was easy; but the last train was about to part. Therefore, both of you, a little dizzy from the drinks -specially you- found the running a lot more challenging than expected. Yet ultimately, grabbed by Law’s hand, you were able to reach the train just in time before doors closed.

“I am so relieved we made it in time!” you sigh, sitting on one of the empty seats. “Same… I mean you could have taken a taxi but…” Law murmured, stopping his words midway. He realized that sending you home in a taxi would be the end of the time together… and he didn’t want that.

Law then proceeds to sit right next to you, crossing his long legs in such way it makes you bite your lower lip. He is a tease by total nature, he doesn’t even try. And he probably knows that too well. As the girls right in front of him gossip and giggle while looking at him.

The train ride is a little long, and the exhaustion suddenly hits you. You remember the fact that sleeping had been rather scarce the last few days of the week, plus the alcohol in your system…

The next station is Ueno. Doors will open on the right

“(Name)-ya… I think this is our station… wake up”  Law’s soft voice whisper in your dreams, and your comfortable pillow suddenly takes the form of what it really was; his shoulder.

“Oh my, sorry! I didn’t mean…” you apologize, quickly brushing off the sleepiness. You notice he is not mad at you, but his façade has relaxed a lot more since the beginning of the night.

“It’s ok, you’ve been working a lot more than the rest lately. You are always the last one to leave the office” he says, helping you stand up and walking to the doors of the train.

You rub your eyes… he knows? That means he’s been watching you… but for how long, and why?

Ueno is as pretty as Shinjuku. The trees that will turn pink in the spring, now hold flowers made of silver flickering lights. There is a considerably less amount of people compared to the big city, though.

The cold air that hits your cheeks wake you up almost instantly, and you are back at having enough energy to eat that instant ramen that you promise Law.

“So, are you still up for the ramen?” you ask, shy and still ashamed for falling asleep on his shoulder. You wonder if snore or even worse… drool on him.

Law nods with a smile on his face and his eyes closed. He is also tired, but he doesn’t want to leave, and you can tell.

You guide him, and after walking a few blocks, the convenience store appears in the corner of a calm neighbourhood’s street.

“Come on, follow me” you chime, pulling from his hand inside the store.

Law follows, and for the first time both grab each other’s hands tightly. Despite gasping, you keep squeezing it… it feels like a dream…

perhaps it is, and I’m still sleeping on the train?

The cashier greets you both, and immediately after recognizing you she informs that the water boiler won’t be working until Monday in case you were there for ramen.

“We can have it in your place if you are ok with it” Law suggests, and your stomach gets full of butterflies… is this like the korean “would you like to come home for ramen?”, is this your “Netflix and chill”?

You nod. After all he did for you, there is no point in letting him go back to Tokyo with at least nothing warm to eat.

Soon he buys two packets of ramen, two sticks of cheese and two cans of sakura edition Monster. And without much conversation you two cross the street to finally reach for your apartment.

The ride on the elevator was as silent as the very beginning, apparently none of you had something further to say… both were absorbed into your own thoughts; what type were the ones inside his head, you begin to wonder.

“Here we are, my room might be in shambles. But the rest I think looks fine” you joke, opening the door and turning on the light.

You were to lie if you said you weren’t lucky; your department is tiny but still has beautiful looks towards the city. Nothing fancy, but decent and exquisitely decorated.

Law smiles, pleased. He enjoys spaces like yours.

“I like you…r place…” he whispers, right behind your back while you walk towards the open kitchen.

“Thanks…” you whisper back, biting your lower lip; sensing the high tension in the air like little zaps of energy, like counter shocks.

You receive the bag with the food from his hands and put a pot of water on the stove. It is necessary for a good instant ramen to boil the water before putting the noodles in. Or so that’s what you always thought. In any case, you needed your mind to be anywhere else but the idea of pleading him to fuck you against the counter.

“(Name)-ya, are you single?” he suddenly asks, after the last crumble of noodles fall from your hands into the bubbly water.

You turn around, slowly. Your ponder whether you should lie to him, or not. Perhaps a taken woman would be a lot more interesting to chase than looking like a lonely girl.

“Because I haven’t seen any man around you…” he continues, sitting on one of the stools and letting his elbows on the counter.

Busted. You can’t lie.

“I am single, yes. What about you, Law-san?” you ask, it is proper -and necessary for you to know-.

Law bends forward, his chin rests on his hand and his golden eyes fix in yours. You realize there has to be a hint of eyeliner on his waterline, and the dark circles intensify under the low light of your kitchen.

“Would you prefer to listen I am?” he asks, straightforwardly and so sexily.

You swallow; what…. the fuck?

“It depends, honestly. I wouldn’t like to be the other woman if you weren’t single” your words sound bigger than yourself, your eyes widen because you don’t even know who is talking right now… but it is definitely not your normal you; this is most likely, your horny you… the “you” that can’t keep hiding how much you are into your boss’ nephew.

Law stands up, walks around the breakfast bar and dominantly -yet, very, very slow- takes his fingers to your chin. You move slightly to the side, allowing your butt to hit the counter behind.

Your fingers clutch to the cold stone surface, your hips feels like magnets being pulled, attracted against the other’s.

“Is that so, (Name)-ya? Well… I am single, indeed” Law whispers, coming closer, so dangerously closer to your lips. His thumb, inked with the letter D, grazes your lower lip ever so softly. And you pout, just enough for him to be able to play with it.

Your sloppy eyelids, your separated lips, your head barely tilted to the side… like feverish, in need of medicine... Law’s lips medicine.

“I’m glad you are…” you moan, opening your mouth just enough to trap with your front teeth his thumb right after. The tip of your tongue follows, wetting his finger. And then, so that there are no more doubts, you suck on it so deliciously lustful.

Law takes a big breath, and sighs right after. He is smirking, so dark. Like you never seen him before. Like you always wish you did.

He lifts you up, helping you sit on top of the counter. Your legs, spread, allow him to come closer.

“You are glad I am gonna fuck you tonight, too?” he asks, leaving you breathless… continuing with the lack of oxygen, as his lips crash on yours.

His tongue, disrespectfully sexual, violates your mouth in pure impetuous need. With gasping and moaning in between, with heavy breathing, with desire for your flesh that seems to be unleashed after being trapped like a beast for so long.

The more he kisses you, the more he wants more. And you do, too.

His playful hands, lift the blouse that seemed to be so enticing to his eyes all through out the night. His delicate fingers crawl from your belly to your chest, squeezing your breasts with no modesty, with no decency.

When he lets your lips free, you feel them swollen, aching for more. You open your eyes, meeting his and a shiver runs through your back. The most handsome man in the earth is right in front of you, wanting to devour you… so desperately.

“So, are you glad… (Name)-ya?” he asks, again. This time with his hand on your neck, squeezing on the right spot to make you dizzy and horny.

“Mhj… yes… please, fuck me” you beg, so weak for his touch.

“Heh” he smirks, ripping your blouse, making the buttons pop and fly away. He doesn’t mind, he doesn’t care… “This damn blouse… you always wear it on Fridays, don’t you? it was making me so hard to see the way your nipples barely peeking through them with the air conditioner… heh…” he moans, with his lips pressed on the commissure of your lips.

For how long have you been watching me in silence, Law? …

Law kisses you one more time before going down to your neck and breasts. The nipples he mentioned were once and for all right before his eyes, hard because of him and not because of the a/c.

Desperately, he cups your right breast, trapping your hard sensitive button with his front teeth. Sucking, twisting, licking. Your body quivering, spasming. Your nails pulling from his messy onyx hair in response to pleasure.

A few more minutes, where you barely reached for the stove to turn it off, are enough for him to want more and more of your body.

“And then, this damn black tight skirt… were you doing it on purpose? Letting your paperwork to fall to the floor, for me to see right when you bent to pick them up, your panties through your pantyhose…? Mh? (Name)-ya?” he asks, kneeling in between your legs, sliding your skirt up, grazing the nylon tights with his teeth.

Why lie? If he was completely right? You did. You did so many times. And yet, never once you thought he could see, he could notice… you remain silent, because silence speaks louder than words…

“You did it on purpose, didn’t you?” he scoffs, carving with his middle finger a hole on your thighs, ripping violently down to expose your core. The view is pure art to him… to see your dripping wet panties, and the flesh of your thighs protruding from the indentations and ripped places of your panty hose...

He kisses those patches of free skin, and then bites them too. He enjoys the way the nylon material gets wet around with his own saliva; you quiver to the sensation, the cutting sharp edges, the kisses, his teeth grazing, the wetness increasing.

And those kisses, that keep going up and up, reach your core for the first time. “How much I wanted to taste your sex… you got me wanting to do it so bad” he grunts with his lips on your wet panty. The warmth of his breath against your sex, makes you flinch… a sting on your clit that felt like a bullet.

A kiss, a lick. Fine fabric getting drenched. Eyes turning white, his nose buried, inhaling your scent. Curious fingertips, moving lace away. The moment his tongue reached for your folds; your heels carved in between his shoulder blades.

Eating you out, you throw back your head, moaning loud, loudly. But you want even more… And almost like if he could read your mind, he stands up. Law uses his inked, veiny hand to clean -or rather spread- the mess you’ve made on his mouth and chin.

“You want me to fuck you, don’t you… you are insatiable, I’ve always knew it” he growls, perhaps ignorant to the fact you are insatiable but only for him.

“I want you” you simply babble, ripping his yellow shirt off to discover his inked chest. The heart on his pecs that goes down until his belly button, pointing to his hardness fighting against his jeans… “I want you so bad…” you whine again.

“Then let me fuck you the way you deserve, (Name)-ya” he moans, biting your lower lip. You help him to get free from his clothes, desperately. You want it now; he wants it more than you.

Soon, his hardness blesses you with his imponent presence in between his fingers. Drippy, slightly veiny, pinkish tip that turns redder the second it passes. He pumps just enough to spread the precum all over, perhaps in an attempt to lubricate… as if it was really needed… you are sure your juices have dripped to your kitchen floor.

With not much, but only pure passion, he lifts one of your legs up until your whole sole is touching the counter. Well spread, enough for him to fit perfectly in, he pulls you closer to the edge.

“I am dying to try your walls clenching around my dick, (Name)-ya” he huffs, with his forehead pressed against yours.

“I want you inside of me, please…” you beg, taking your hips closer to his drippy gland.

Law kisses you brutally, to impale you equally after. He drinks your moans; you breathe off his grunts. His hands land on the small of your back, moving in an out of you with strong pace. While your nails carve on his shoulders, leaving marks of love.

The sound of skin slapping skin flood the kitchen, mixed with the pleasure song of your throats.

Law carries you to the table, and your body lies there until he can bend completely over you to keep fucking you while kissing and biting everything he has in front. You do the same, pulling from his lip, biting his neck, his shoulders… trapping him against you, with no way out, with your legs snaked tightly around his waist.

Nothing matters the most, than him never leaving your insides. Nothing matters the most that being bound to the other, mixed in one and only.

Filled with his release, he keeps on going. Reaching for one, two, three times the maximum climax… more, more and more…

“We can eat the ramen tomorrow… right?” “Y-yes…”

[woozvc]

shifts.

(part of my seventeen first love series!) [m.list]

synopsis - working at a 24/7 hypermarket and thinking you're about to get killed is not fun...but the dude you meet is beautiful so hey worth it?

pairing — jeonghan x gn!reader (reader is called pretty once)

genre/s — fluff, jeonghan is a menace, friends older brother troupe if you squint, reader works at a hypermarket late at night

cw— mentions of dark streets and getting followed (but like not really because he thought you were someone else), one direction is mentioned for a second (yes this is a cw), a lot of cursing

w/c - 1k ish

it's 11:03pm when your shift is finally over. it's a quiet friday night, the 24/7 hypermart you're working at is pretty empty which is perfect. most of your shift was spend in just organizing the shelfs and listening to music. that's why you love working here, it's easy money and it's near your house so why not?

“y/n! thank you so much for covering my shift today!”

“hey haein, how was your meeting?”

“um..it was fine haha, I know you like your 11-4am shift more but i had no choice, hope I'm not ruining your saturday”

“it's fine, I was free today anyway”

“let me get changed and you can log out” haein gives you a small smile.

haein is a year younger than you, you first met her when she randomly once ran into the shop at 1am in dire need of ramen. it looked like she was on the verge of tears. that told you enough, she was definitely your type of person.

“is it really that cold or are you dramatic?” haein chuckles looking at your large comically hoodie. you got it matching with her a few weeks ago. she wanted to thank you for putting up with her antics at early hours of the morning. you didn't refuse, a free hoodie is a free hoodie.

“it's December and I'm cold." you give her a glare (affectionate)

"don't leave the store until mark comes in and please dont put your headphones on, if someone walks in your need to greet them” haein gives you a small laugh with a salute and hugs you.

walking through this neighborhood has never been a problem. you know this place like the back of your hand, nothing could go-

“huh?” you turn around. there was something. you swear you felt someone walk behind you.

you look around for a minute, no ones around. that's when you decide to book it. taking a deep breath you start to run and crash into something, or, someone.

“haein chill out why the fuck are you running”

“who the fuck are you??”

you stare at the boy in front of you. long hair, lean frame and beautiful eyes-

“you're not haein.”

“last time i checked no I'm not” you quip back at him. being good looking does not excuse being a bitch.

“oh my god I'm so sorry” he extends his hand out to you which you take and pull yourself up.

“you have the same hoodie as my sister so i thought you were her.. I was planning to scare her so that i could ask why she was out so late I'm really sorry. it's just that usually her shifts ends right now and she takes this street home and”

“jeonghan?”

"you know me?"

it made sense. haein would come in sometimes and rant about her menace of a brother who she loved but sometimes was hard to deal with. for someone who has so much shit talked about him, damn does he look good.

you spend the next 5minutes telling jeonghan about how you know haein, the matching hoodies and why you were leaving the store at her shift time.

“she had a meeting with a club? she's not in any clubs?"

"I don't know I don't interrogate your sister"

“maybe you can” he hands his phone out and you give him a confused look

“put your number in, I'll ask you for sister updates. you can be my spy”

“that's creepy”

“I'm just concerned for her”

“still creepy”

“okay how about you give me your number because I think you're pretty”

you're so glad the street has barely any lights or he would've seen you red as a tomato right now. you quietly take his phone and put your number in, no further words needed.

jeonghan smiles at you and saves your number.

“I'll go meet haein now but I'll text you, you have good taste” and he walks away laughing. you stand there confused. what does he mean by good taste??

you start to walk home when it hits you. he pointed at your bag. a bag with a one direction badge on it that you put on when you were 12 and forgot about it.

“definitely a menace.”

a/n - I'm still on hiatus but I wrote this at 4am when I was sad and needed something to do sorry if it's not my best work :/

[misasimagines]

dating hcs / reader x Ren (Tokyo Debunker)

included characters: all about Ren (much like the rest of my blog sometimes...)

rating: SFW, nothing NSFW here I prommy.

warnings: he's just a menace. Only thing assumed about the reader is that you are smaller than him in one bullet point. These are also much more casual and not as polished as I try to make my normal fics so sorry if that bothers you!

I can't promise there won't maybe eventually be a part 2 or a NSFW version of this. genuinely someone save me please im being held hostage in my own brain.

Level 10 clinger but he won't admit it. He's just like Where are you going :/ when you get up and it's like bro I've been here 4 hours? And he's like …. whatever you can leave …. And that obviously means he does not want you to leave.

But it's somewhat okay! Because he actually gives really good hugs. Just only to you, everyone else gets the stiffest and most uncomfortable hugs that result in him shoving them away and groaning and complaining about harassment. With you, you get a nice snuggly hug and he groans and complains if you try to wiggle out too soon. give and take.

You can go make yourself some ramen and he's like hanging off you, arms wrapped around your waist, resting his chin on your head or shoulder like, are you making me ramen too? And you give in because he's being uncommonly cute. And then he's immediately giving demands like don't cook it too long and it gets mushy, that's gross, and don't add the seasoning packet on top like that because it gets all clumpy and gross like BOY do you want your ramen cooked for you OR NOT? No matter how you make it, he's going to make a face and be like “This is trash…no I'll eat it…it's whatever…” it's not trash, he's very touched, he's just insufferable.

If you're sleeping in the same bed as him and get up in the morning before he does, there is a non-zero (and by non zero I mean incredibly high) chance he's just grabbing you around the waist, pulling you back down, and complaining that it's too early. Okay? I have a job??? He will just hold you tightly and whine at you that he was warm and comfortable and you can't just leave him, he doesn't sleep as well without you. He's too tired to really realize what he's saying and will deny this later, instead being like ugh whatever you take up too much room in my bed, you're lucky I sacrifice so much for you… (wait don't go back to your room tonight, take me with you-)

On sleeping, you probably go in thinking that sharing a bed with him will be just sleeping on opposite sides as separate as possible. Not true. He's the big spoon and you are no different from a body pillow now the way he's laying half on top of you. If it's too hot though, then yeah, get out of his bed….I mean don't really, he'll complain if you leave, but he's sprawled out and doesn't want you to touch him at all.

Really doesn't want to go on dates. He's like we can just stay in, right? ….watch a movie and play games…. going out sucks and it's expensive and we could run into people we know and they'd ruin it anyway… but when there's a new movie that he wants to see, he's like we Have To Go. We Have To. But when it was YOUR ice cream shop he's like….it's too cold out to get ice cream why do you want to go there?? Just buy a popsicle at the convenience store or smth….

He will give in and do things you want, though. You just have to be clear with him that it should be fair and equal, where you go and when. You stay in with him one day, he goes out with you another. Equality. This doesn't stop him from complaining. He's true to himself there.

Really though he's just embarrassed about going out and being perceived as Guy Who Goes On Dates because that's just. Too much. So if he's ever really apprehensive, he's probably just overthinking and overstimulated by it and you should probably just accept it's a stay at home night.

Like if someone starts poking fun at him for being your boyfriend or something he's like instantly kind of freaked out and bothered. Not because he doesn't want to be your boyfriend but because having it pointed out and being a part of his identity just kind of scares him. He'll be off and probably a bit avoidant for a few hours at least because of this.

He DOES use you for excuses though. Haru walks in and Ren's like nope can't do anything today look, they're laying on top of me, can't move, would ruin their day, you don't want to ruin their day right? If you want them to suffer, you can make me leave and do work but that's on you then. And of course Haru is like 😭 I could never do damage to your lovely partner 😭 

Your own participation doesn't matter here. You could be standing up and the second Ren hears Haru's footsteps, he's yanking you down on top of him so he can make that excuse. 

As awful and selfish as he is, he can be sweet, he just can't have it acknowledged. He'll bring you stuff from the store if he thinks/knows you like it and he'll pick out movies you'd like and he would 100% follow you around in a mmo he made you start and just murder all the enemies for you so you can progress easily. + He's throwing high level gear your way because he doesn't need it and he would grind for the cute pet you wanted so he can give it to you.

If you want to vent and complain and bitch, he's your man. He's like yeah fuck that guy (never met that guy in his life) he sucks. He's your biggest supporter for being a hater. If you're like I hate this person - when he meets them? He hates this person too. They don't have a chance here.

Coworker or peer who's mean to you? He meets them and is immediately like [disgusted face] I see what you mean. And the coworker is like??? See what??? Bro???? And he's mean! He's not nice to them. He's not actively insulting them, but whenever they talk he's making a face and sighing like he's never been so disgusted before.

He also holds grudges for you. Someone bumps into you in public and doesn't apologize? Permanent spot on his shit list. Friend argument that makes you upset or, even worse, cry? That friend is dead to him and he will not forgive them on your behalf. Doesn't matter if you don't care or you forgive them, he is not letting it go.

Will put on actually scary horror movies to watch so when it's time for you to go home/send him home, you're like……um I don't want to be alone, I'm scared. And then he can be like ugggh fine I guess I can stay, you're so needy (LETS FUCKING GOOOO)

Doesn't really do pet names, but if you call him a pet name like babe, honey, sweetie, etc he's blushing and he'll basically do anything you want because he doesn't know how to Think right now.

If you're upset about something, he's not great at advice or comforting words, but he'll cuddle you and let you relax and he won't complain about it. He'll even go pick up a comfort meal for you or make you some tea/coffee/etc. He'll be like, You like this movie right? We can watch it. - even though you know, for a fact, he cannot stand that movie. 

He'll just hold you and pet your head and listen and stay quiet for once.

Mostly, he doesn't like attention being brought to any of the sweet or generous things he does, and he has to ruin most of his own shows of affection by being selfish or whiney. It doesn't mean that he didn't have good intentions when he did the nice act, he just can't have them like super focused on because he gets embarrassed. Say thank you or give him a little kiss on the cheek and don't gush about it and he'll be okay. Maybe a little blushy but okay.

Also he's a drama queen. I don't think I even need to elaborate on this because it's so evident but he just reacts intensely to some things even if he tries really hard to be Too Cool to look more than just annoyed. Good Luck Fellow Soldiers.

Actually please pull the most basic “jump out and scare him” pranks because he screams every time and it's hilarious and he hates it but it's payback for all the bad horror movies.

Also payback because he'd let you borrow his hoodies, and the sleeves would be too long for you, and when you're not paying attention, he'd pull the loose ends behind your back and tie them together and then pull the hood over your face so you're trapped and can't see. This is because he is evil. And he does it whenever he thinks you've forgotten that he does this, and even if you remember and fight back, it's a losing battle. He deserves all the terrible things that happen to him 🫡

He looks so smug when he does this and mostly just uses it for leverage to make you stay with him longer than you planned to or if you were being bratty or something. 

If you Wise up and try to avoid this, he'll just come up with new methods. He's stubborn and you're basically challenging him so… best of luck, soldier 🫡

[cloudcountry]

hELLO THERE <3 i would like to perhaps request a reader that has a weak immune system with Leona, Jamil, Idia?

- Reader is weak frequently and gets sick easily, while viruses or illnesses are incubating in them they’re overly tired. They get fevers often and when they’re sick they’re prone to hallucinations and delusions- like one night they can hear colors and green tells them to eat cake (this happened 2 me <3 i’m sick rn)

they wander around at night a lot bc they’re delirious when sick and it’s a lil silly

they also apologize a lot for burdening s/o when they’re sick bc they’re sick so often

i hope u don’t mind the details ;; have a great

day night evening 🌽

SUMMARY: Leona, Jamil, and Idia with a S/O that has a weak immune system.

WARNINGS: None!!

COMMENTS: i hope you feel better soon!! :C <3 i didnt mind the details at all <33 i hope your day/night is lovely as well, thank you!!

When Leona learns about your weakened immune system, he suggests you join the Savanaclaw dorm for their daily exercise with a mocking grin on his face. He isn’t doing it to be mean, he’s just teasing in his typical Leona way.

Hell, you’ll even be invited to Spelldrive practice since he heard exercising can help with your weakened immune system. If you’d prefer to stay in his room and keep the lights off, however, he’ll accept that as well. After all, nobody besides Ruggie is going to enter his room.

If you apologize for being a burden he’ll shrug it off. If you were a burden, he would have thrown you to the wolves a while ago. He takes care of you because he cares about you. You’re not forcing him to do anything.

He makes you balanced and healthy meals when you’re sick (and if you ask nicely, he might feed you hehe.) Sometimes Kalim will burst into your room and try to, ahem, help, but Jamil always shoos him away.

If you ever thank him for taking care of you and imply that it’s hard work, Jamil will sigh and tell you that he’s here because he wants to be. You’re not forcing him to do anything against his will.

And because he hates a lack of freedom, you know he’s being genuine. (Although he will get a bit teasing when you talk about colors talking to you.)

Idia, oh Idia. He has absolutely no idea what to do. He'll offer you some of his shitty packaged ramen noodles with a shaky hand and a soft voice. Also, his room is deathly cold because of his computer systems so you’re going to have to heap on the blankets if you want to stay cool!!

Ortho is your saving grace, looking up recipes and helping Idia come up with home remedies to help you feel just a little bit better.

Idia’s still a bit shy when it comes to you, and honestly the day when he’ll finally open up may be far off, but when you complain about being a burden he just mumbles something about how you’re not and not to worry.

[moonbeamwritings]

making a house a home

inspired by this post *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ

pairing: hawks x gn!reader

wc: 1.3k

There’s a loneliness that clings to every surface of Keigo’s apartment. It lingers in the slight dip on one side of the couch and not the other. It stakes its claim in the one chair at his dining table that's always pulled out while the others remain unoccupied. His bed is much too big, too; cold and empty, and like so many other spots in his home, untouched on one side.

His walls are bare, save for the odd photo here and there; one frame in his bedroom, a few in the hallway, one or two on the wall in the living room. It’s a feeble attempt to prove to himself that there are people in his life, though when he racks his brain, Keigo struggles to conjure the names of anyone he considers a true friend, anyone he considers family. At the end of the day, the pictures scattered about are just that — pictures. His apartment is still empty; his heart still yearns.

Every night, with exhaustion weighing him down and a soreness in his joints, Keigo comes home to near deafening silence, to dark rooms and cold spaces. And every night, despite the ache in his ribs, he calls out a chipper, “Honey, I’m home!” A call he knows will go unanswered, like the final, resolute trill of a species on the verge of extinction.

Everything changes when he meets you.

It’s a typical morning in the middle of January, and the streets are packed despite the chill that clings to the air, despite the threat of snow, and Keigo takes the extra time to walk to the coffee place down the street from his agency instead of fly. It kills a little time, and it’s nice to let the cool air gently fill his lungs instead of whip into his face in flight.

And just as he rounds the final corner, he slams into your smaller frame. You stumble, bag toppling off your shoulder, contents spilling out and onto the sidewalk.

“Oop,” he says, steadying you on your feet before stooping down to help you collect some of your things. “Sorry about that. Wasn’t watching where I was going.”

You smile, a casual, sweet thing that makes Keigo’s face feel warm. You’re pretty. “No harm done. I wasn’t looking either.”

With the last of your stuff thrown back into your bag, you offer him one more of those pretty smiles and a kind “thank you” before you’re disappearing up the street.

Keigo lingers for a moment, watching you until you get swallowed by the crowd before he, too, turns and continues on his way. By the time he orders his coffee and his day begins in earnest, he’s forgotten all about his earlier encounter.

That is, until he’s on his lunch break. His stomach, and the ice that clings to his bones despite his jacket and thick gloves, has guided him to the nearest ramen shop, on the hunt for something warm to fill his belly. And once he’s in line, he catches sight of a familiar face — you.

“You again,” you tease, fixing him with that same, friendly grin. You lean a little closer to whisper, “Am I on some watchlist I don’t know about?”

A smirk graces his features as he ducks to whisper back conspiratorially, “Oh yeah.” He pats the pocket on the left-hand side of his coat. “Got your wanted poster right here.”

“Damn,” you mutter, lifting your free hand in mock surrender. “You got me.”

“But I’m a nice guy,” he reminds you with a resolute nod. “So I’ll at least let you eat lunch first.”

You sigh dreamily, batting your lashes at him dramatically before dropping a warm hand against his shoulder. It damn near burns a hole through his jacket, and he can feel the heat from it travel up to the tips of his ears. “You’re so kind.”

A smirk. “I try.”

The conversation lulls for only a moment as your order number gets called, and his follows shortly after. You stand shoulder to shoulder as you both scan the restaurant for an open table. It’s the lunch rush, so the place is jam-packed with patrons.

You steady your tray in a firm grip. “It looks like that’s the only table open.” Keigo follows your eyes over to a small table nestled in the corner by the window. “Do you wanna, maybe, sit together?”

Keigo knows that he should probably refuse. He can imagine the headlines and social media threads now — No. 2 Hero on a Quest for Love, Has Pro-Hero Hawks Finally Been Snatched Up? — but as he watches you shift your weight from foot to foot, eyeing him with what he can only describe as a sheepish smile, he can’t bring himself to deny you.

“Sure, lead the way.”

After that, one chance encounter leads to a dinner date one weekend and a movie date the next. Before suddenly you’re spending nights at his apartment and he’s cooking you breakfast in the morning.

It’s tough at first. Guys like him don’t usually date. They hide and work and yearn until they’ve given the universe all they have. Until there’s nothing left. Keigo’s line of work doesn’t allow him the luxury of relaxation, the comfort of being... normal. It’s a delicate balance, protecting you and spending time with you, one that takes weeks to find. But when he does, Keigo starts to feel a little less lonely. Slowly, he starts to realize just how easily you’ve wormed your way into his life, into his heart.

Your shoes fit so perfectly next to his, right by the door. You snuggle into his side on the couch, perching yourself in the chair across from his at the dinner table. Keigo finds that he sleeps so much better with you nuzzled beneath his chin, even if you try to hog the sheets. You’re occupying spaces that have never been occupied before, exploring uncharted territory.

You leave your mark on his home when your clothes start to join his in the closet, when your toothbrush sits next to his in the bathroom. You place your succulents on his windowsill and buy a fresh vase of flowers for the dining table every two weeks.

Walls that were once barren fill, and they fill quickly. “It’s sad, Keigo,” you’d told him with a pout, staring at the blank canvas that he calls his living room wall. “You deserve better than this.”

His chest floods with affection when he comes home one evening to see that you’ve set up what you call a gallery wall. A collection of different artworks and prints and photographs litter his wall, their sizes and frames varying to draw his eye to each one. They fit together like puzzle pieces.

You were right, he’d always deserved better than those barren walls, than his cold, lonely apartment. And now that you’ve shown him what warmth feels like, Keigo knows he’ll never stop clinging to it.

His favorite thing of all, though, is getting to come home to you.

“Honey, I’m home!” Keigo calls, and almost reflexively he braces for silence, one he’s grown so accustomed to, but that cursed silence never comes. Instead, the sweet, familiar sound of your voice is there to greet him.

“‘M in the kitchen!”

The smell of food wafts through the air, radiating through every corner of his apartment as Keigo approaches you. He wraps his arms around your waist and squeezes before pulling you back towards his chest.

You stop what you’re doing to lean back into his hold, curling a gentle hand under his jaw and leaning up to capture his lips with your own. When you pull away, Keigo can feel your grin against his lips. “Welcome home.”

And, oh, how his heart soars at the sound.

You’ve made his house a home, your home, and Keigo’s certain that he’ll never be able to repay you for what you’ve done for him, for how you’ve changed his life. But with you in his arms, staring up at him with adoration glimmering in your pretty eyes, Keigo decides that a gentle kiss and a soft, but earnest, “I love you” is as good a place to start as any.

[seeingivy]

new year's day

actor eren x f!reader

**part of my method acting fic, masterlist here

content: reader mentions insecurity, connie and reiner teasing you, smooching, levi being a dad for ten minutes straight, sukuna cameo

an: I MISSED YOU POOKIES SO MUCH. SO SO MUCH. war (my 9-5) is over. this ended up at 9k, I hope it can compensate for the wait. ALSO VERY IMPORTANT WE'VE REACHED OUR FIRST TAYLOR SONG OF THE FIC. you can listen to new year's day from reputation before reading - it'll make the end part make more sense <3 (me furthering my turning people into swifties agenda, I saw her last night and my brain chemistry changed)

previous part linked here

--

“Go outside and look at the moon.” 

“No. I’m really comfortable in my bed.” 

“Oh, come on Y/N. Just go outside.”

You grumble some nice profanities at Eren over the phone as you shuffle out of your sheets, pushing open your window to stick your head out. The breeze in the air is cold, the frigid atmosphere invading your already freezing room.

Erwin won’t justify turning on the heater. There are only four people in the townhouse right now - you, Levi, Hange, and Erwin (which is totally not your worst nightmare) - and apparently, that doesn’t justify heater use at all. Luckily enough, Eren and his very convincing angry face will arrive tomorrow to save you from your eternal winter. 

“S’cold, Jaeger.” 

“Yeah, yeah. Do you see the moon?” 

You crane your head up, twisting back in the window to look at it. A small crescent pressed against the sky, just slightly hidden beneath the clouds. 

“Yes, Eren. I see the moon.” 

“Okay. Now look to your right.” 

“Are we playing Simon Says?” 

“STOP SASSING ME AND JUST DO IT.” 

You’re thrown off by the irritation in his voice, and you turn over, peeking your head entirely out to look to the right. 

“Very exciting views, Eren. It’s literally pitch black.” 

You don’t see much, just the tandem bike you set out for tomorrow - when Eren would be here and not berating you through the phone - and the small patch of flowers that are by the front door. 

“I meant your other right, Y/N.” 

You shift your head to the left and see Eren standing there, his green hoodie pulled over his head and a cheeky smile pressed into his face. 

You drop your phone flat on the floor, running (falling) down the steps out into the cold air, your socks against the cold pavement as you run out to greet him. 

He’s already holding his arms open, which you run into, as you burrow your face into his shoulder, his warm arms squeezing around your frame and his laugh in your ears. 

“You were supposed to come tomorrow, Eren.” 

“And yet I’m here today, Y/N.” 

“Shut up. You know what I meant.” 

“Flight got moved up. And maybe I just wanted some time in the house where it’s just you and me - you know, without Mikasa interrupting us every two seconds.” 

You laugh as you and Eren sling your arms around each other’s shoulders, trudging out of the cold and into the kitchen. 

Before you can even mention it, Eren’s pulling out two bowls, and you’re grabbing the ramen packets, the two of you leaning against the counter as you watch the water boil. As excited as you are to see him and actually to be near him, there isn’t really much to talk about. 

You guys literally talk every single day. 

“How’s the song coming?” 

You groan, leaning into his shoulder as he laughs, his hand coming around your shoulder to rest in your hair. But it’s better. Because you can see him with your own eyes, hear him with your own ears, feel him with your own hands. 

“Bad. I’m never going to finish it.” 

“You’ll finish it. Plus, Armin’s coming soon, and he knows how to rhyme and stuff.” 

“That’s not the problem. I feel like the lyrics work when I can figure out the backing tracks and the music. But I keep getting tangled up because I can’t figure out the piano.” 

He reaches forward, opening the packets of noodles and dipping them into the water as you start chopping up the vegetables on the side. 

“I play piano, Y/N. I can help you if you want.” 

“No. That would just be more embarrassing. I get super frustrated when I’m writing. It would be infinitely worse if you were there watching me fail.” 

He rolls his eyes as he takes the knife from your hand, lightly pushing you to the side to watch the noodles. 

“You’re not going to fail. Let me help you. No one gets a hit on the first try, stupid.” 

“Don’t call me stupid, idiot.” 

“My bad, dumbass.” 

“Language, Eren,” Levi says from behind you two. 

You watch a smile spread across Eren’s face as he moves, running past the side of the counter to give Erwin, Hange, and a now-annoyed Levi a hug. Hange and Erwin are ruffling his hair, Hange cooing about how their little stars are back together again. 

Eren joins you again at your side as you're dishing out the food, Erwin pulling out a stack of papers as you and Eren start eating at the counter. 

“Business.” 

“Go ahead, Erwin.” Eren says, handing you the hot sauce before you can even reach for it. 

“So. Final scripts. As you’ll see, there aren't too many big scenes for you this season. It’s mostly focusing on this whole Utgard Castle arc, which you’re both not in.” Erwin explains. 

“Okay, that’s-” you say. 

“That doesn’t mean you both can slack off. There are more scenes for the rest of them because we need you two to nail the scenes you are in. Eren - this whole Colossal Titan reveal, you need to put everything you’ve got into it. If you think I’ve pushed you hard before, you’re in for a whole different playing field this season.” Levi says, glaring at Eren. 

You watch Eren roll his eyes, grumbling under his breath as he agrees and starts flipping through the script. 

“And you too, Y/N. This whole “Thank You” scene at the end - the majority of the dialogue falls on you. But you need to deliver in all ways. You better be acting with your eyes, your mind, your entire being. This is the type of scene you both could get nominated for as awards that’ll get you more roles. Take it seriously.” Levi continues. 

At the mention of awards, you and Eren both perk your ears up, flipping to the end of the script to the scenes tabbed at the ends with your name on it. You quickly run your eyes through the scene and the staging and feel your throat constrict at the staging lines right in the middle, bolded. 

Y/N leans forward, grabs Eren by the collar, and presses the softest kiss to his lips. It’s not overly passionate or sensational, but to the two of them, it’s a simple message. One they’ve known all along, maybe since they first met - in that cabin all those years ago.

I know how you feel. You don’t have to say it. 

You feel your eyes widen as you look up at Hange and Levi, the words spilling out of your mouth. 

“You want us to kiss?” 

“Huh?” 

At your words, Eren’s leaning over into your space, reading the line marked, and suddenly your cheeks are both burning pink. You both give each other a glance, which only makes it more awkward, as you shuffle as far away from each other as possible. 

“Yeah. It’ll fit the scene. It’s just one kiss, maybe two if we don’t get it on the first take.” Hange says nonchalantly as they start flipping through the rest of the highlighted script. 

As Erwin, Hange, and Levi start milling through their own conversations - discussing sets, costumes, that scene - you squeak out something that stops them in their tracks. 

“I’ve never kissed anyone before.” 

Hange’s eyes light up as they nearly jump to your side, taking your cheeks into their hands and teasing you. They flip you around so you’re facing Eren, which you’ve been avoiding this entire time, and start whispering into your ear. 

“Aw, isn’t he so sweet? It’ll be so nice to have your first kiss with your best friend, someone you trust.” 

“Uh, I-” 

“Cmon. Eren won’t bite now, will he?” 

Eren awkwardly pads to the other side of the room, shoving his face into his script, as Levi comes over and yanks Hange by the hair, muttering something about how they need to stop teasing you. 

“Another thing. While they’re filming the Utgard Castle scenes, you’re both not really in, you’re both going on a press junket. We’ll all be there as well.” 

“The rest of the cast too?” 

“No, just you two, Eren. They’re all going to finish filming so we can maximize time and all that. You’ll return on New Year’s Day to film that last scene.” 

“Can we come back earlier? Y/N’s birthday is on New Year’s Eve. She should be here to celebrate with everyone and not on a stuffy plane.” 

“Fine. You’ll come back that day. And then the scene is the day after.” 

Hange, Erwin, and Levi give the two of you a curt nod as they pad back upstairs, leaving you, Eren, and your two bowls of ramen in the kitchen. You and Eren take the bowls and place them on the table, eating silently. 

It’s still hanging in your mind. In a little less than a month, you’re going to be kissing Eren. 

“Y/N.” 

“Yeah, Eren?” 

“I haven’t kissed anyone either.” 

“Oh. Okay.” 

“I just mean, it doesn’t have to be awkward. We’ll just…figure it out together. And it’s you and me, so it won’t be weird.” 

You smile, watching the last of your noodles swirl around the bowl as his words seep into your head. Right. It is just you and Eren. You’re best friends. It’s just one kiss. Or maybe two. It’s not a big deal. 

“Yeah. You and me, Eren.” 

He smiles in response, the awkwardness lifting off of you as you both finish eating. 

- 

The second Connie, Reiner, and Ymir make it back on set, their incessant teasing starts. They read the scripts. Kissy faces, smooching sounds, purposely pushing you and Eren into corners together just so they can tease you. 

“Eren. Are you excited to kiss, Y/N?” 

“Shut up, Connie.” 

“Is this your first kiss together? You must be sooo excited, Y/N.” 

“Okay, Reiner. Are you excited for your weird pervert lines about Historia?” 

The entire room laughs, Historia and Mikasa coming over to yank you out of the corner and sit at the table with them as you all catch up. Armin’s going around - taking pictures of everyone for our first day of filming with his Polaroid - as he starts labeling them all. 

There’s one of Reiner and Bertholdt - in their iconic fists to each other’s back poses - labeled “pervert and giraffe” by Connie. 

Another one of Sasha sleeping face first on the table from her jet lag while Connie and Jean are spraying whipped cream into her hair, labeled “connie springer, ultimate menace” 

And another one of you and Eren, fist-bumping each other, labeled “l/n-jaegers, season two” 

Connie films his first incriminating video ten minutes after that. It's Eren tucking your hair behind your ear. 

- 

You yank your earphones out as you crunch the pebbles under your feet, rubbing the sleepiness from your eyes. When Armin walks up next to you, he’s immediately leaning his head on your shoulder, his eyes sleepily shut as you wait for everyone else to join. 

It’s five in the morning. And you really, really hate Hange for this. 

You’re all supposed to be filming a scene two hours away, in the snowcaps. It’s meant to be a flashback scene, primarily for Ymir and Historia, which is why you’re pissed that you had to wake up this early anyways. The light is barely peeking into the sky, the hues still a dark navy as everyone strolls out of the townhouse. 

Jean’s grumbling profanities, Mikasa’s dragging Connie out, and Sasha's the only one who’s really awake. Erwin slides open the bus door, and you trudge in, sliding into the first seat. 

You're leaning your head against the glass, ice cold, as you try to flutter your eyes closed again to rest a little bit on the drive over. You feel a shifting in the seat next to you and two hands on your head, moving you through space. 

You peek your eyes open to find Eren, placing your forehead against his shoulder instead of the glass. 

“Huh, what-” 

“Sorry, Y/N. Didn’t mean to wake you. Just figured it would be more comfortable this way.” he whispers, lightly pulling the hood of your jacket back over your head. 

You nestle more into his shoulder, letting the weight of your head fall entirely onto his shoulder as he readjusts under you, his arm splayed across your back. You feel his head resting on top of yours, your breaths in tandem as you both shut your eyes and drift off to a very unrestful and bumpy sleep. 

You wake up two hours later to the flash of a camera. And when you open your eyes, Armin and Connie are smirking at you, holding up the Polaroid of you and Eren sleeping in front of your face and then running out the bus. 

You frown as you rub your eye sockets with your knuckles, readjusting your hair and cracking out your neck. 

"Fuck Erwin for getting Armin that camera." 

“I really hope they’re not there when we have to kiss each other, Eren. They’re never going to let us hear the end of it.” 

“You and me both.” 

He holds his hand out, helping you up from the chair as you both pull on your jackets and join everyone else in the snow. 

“Sleep well?” 

You and Eren turn your heads to find Marco standing beside you, a shy smile on his face. You and Eren both reach forward, pulling your arms around him as you start talking at the same time, shocked at his presence. 

“Marco. What the fuck? What are you doing-” 

“You didn’t even tell us you were coming! That’s so messed up. You bitch.”  

He pulls back, a hand resting on both of your shoulders as he smiles, the look soft. 

“Sorry, guys. I wanted it to be a surprise. I’ll be here after you’re back from the press junket, too, Y/N. For your birthday.” 

You smile at him, giving him one more hug as he ruffles your hair, the two of you linking arms as you wait to film the scene at hand. After you film the aforementioned extremely short scene - which just makes you more aggravated at Levi and Hange because why the hell did you have to come out here for that - the lot of you head into the cabin, peeling off your snow coats and settling into the seats. 

Armin and Eren settle at the window, the two of them teaching each other card tricks while Bertholdt follows Sasha to rummage for snacks. Mikasa and Reiner run off to explore the upper level of the cabin as you and Marco sit flat against the wall, watching everyone walk around. 

“How are you, Y/N?” 

“Okay, Marco. How are you?” 

“I meant. Regarding everything we talked about last time and all that.” 

“Oh. Right.” 

The last time you saw Marco was when he came to visit you and stay with your family for a week. It was an impromptu trip after you mentioned to him that things weren’t going so great. Granted, he was only an hour away from filming a short film and had the time to spare, but it still meant the world. 

He places a hand on the top of your knee as you look over at Eren, his eyebrows scrunched in concentration as he starts talking. 

“You doing okay? Seriously?” he asks. 

“It feels better when I’m here. With you guys. Especially you, now that you’re here. I feel most normal here and wildly out of place when I’m home.” 

He sighs, squeezing your knee as you watch Eren place his card down, a victorious screech leaving his mouth as Armin rolls his eyes. 

“I can’t say I understand. We all went to the SHWA when we were so little, and I guess there was always some understanding that we’d be…in the spotlight. Scrutinized. No grocery stores or going to the beach, or any of that. Those things wouldn’t be normal. There was really no…normal to go back to.” 

You reach down, holding his hand, as you tilt your head back on the wall. 

“I don’t know. It’s weird. Sometimes it feels like I can’t even be normal without people picking apart everything I do. I knew this was something I wanted badly but never figured it would be like this.” 

“Yeah. I know the feeling.” he responds. 

Eren looks over from his spot on the windowsill, eyebrows scrunched together in frustration now as he mouths the words. 

You okay?

You nod, albeit halfheartedly, as Marco pulls you up, the two of you scooting into the kitchen. 

“Did you tell him about any of this?” 

“No.” “Don’t be silly, Y/N. The first thing they say at the SHWA is to rely on the people around you. The ones who understand.” 

“I do rely on the people around me. I’m talking to you right now.” 

He reaches forward to flick your forehead, the spot stinging.

“Ouch, asshole.” 

“I’m not a series regular anymore. And he’s the person you should tell. He’d want to know.” 

You roll your eyes at him as Sasha comes up, splitting half of her chocolate bar with you. Armin and Eren amble in a little while later, the lot of you all standing in the kitchen, watching Connie shove as many marshmallows as he can into Reiner’s mouth. 

Armin takes a picture. Labels it “chubby bunny gone wrong” when Reiner’s choking over the sink.

- 

The press junket is insane. You and Eren are spending three days, all at the same convention, doing panels together. All while trying to memorize the lines for your kiss scene. Levi and Erwin said to meet as many people as the two of you could socialize as much as you can. Answer questions about the show for fans without letting Eren spoil the show. 

The first interview was a get-to-know-the-actors test. You and Eren are tasked with asking each other simple questions and talking about them. It should be easy. As the camera beeps red for recording, Eren turns to the side and starts. 

“My name is Eren Jaeger, and I’m one of the cast members of Attack on Titan.” 

“And I’m Y/N L/N, and I’m also from the cast of Attack on Titan. We’re going to be doing an interview today for you to get to know us better!” 

Eren leans forward, giving you a warm smile as you talk. He reaches forward, reading off the question on the first card. 

“Y/N. Did you take anything home from the set?” 

You turn to the side, making a fake warning face into the camera. 

“Levi, if you’re watching, stop.” 

Eren laughs as you turn back to him, trying to ignore the lights blaring in your eyes. 

“Um. I totally accidentally took one of the scarves home. But that was an accident. Did you take anything?” 

“I stole one of Armin’s polaroids from the wall. I keep it in my wallet. And I totally stole one of the ODM gear swords.” 

“Huh? What do you even do with that?” 

“Threaten my brother.” 

“Oh my god, Eren. Jesus. Which polaroid did you take?” 

“I have it, actually.” 

Eren smiles at you as he yanks his wallet out of his pocket, handing the shiny white Polaroid over. You smile as you remember the day, the picture being of you and Eren with your ramen bowls. Armin’s inscription says, “sosuke and ponyo.” You hold it up to the camera before handing it back to Eren, making a mental note to steal one of Armin’s Polaroids too. 

“Okay, Eren. Your question is…who is the first person you call when you get good news?” 

His cheeks turn pink as he pinches the bridge of his nose, rolling his eyes at the camera. 

“This is kind of cheesy.” 

“Huh, Eren?” 

“The person I call is you.” 

You smile, twiddling with the end of your braids as you respond. 

“My answer is you too.” 

He smiles back, the two of you getting through the rest of the questions and thanking the crew team in the filming room. As you and Eren swing out of the door, he pulls the tiny little sheet Levi had made for the two of you out of his pocket, looking where to go next. You’re leaning so close into his space to read the little sheet that you can smell his minty gum, the smell filling your nose. 

You’re going to the networking event. 

You and Eren slide into the hallway, a big expensive conference room filled with people milling around. Almost everyone is nursing a glass of red wine in their hands, all adults talking over and around you as you both awkwardly stand at the front. You instinctively reach down for Eren’s hand, the two of you locking fingers as you move forward. 

You both naturally lean against the wall, watching everyone walk around as you enter the room. All men. Well, almost all men. But from what you can tell, the only other women in the room are actresses - the producers, directors, screenwriters - they’re all men. 

“Does it feel weird to you here, Eren?” 

“Kind of. I can’t really place what it is, but it doesn’t really feel like we’re allowed to be here.” 

You’re both significantly younger than almost everyone in this room. And they’re all drinking. Talking about god knows what. You try to scan the room - looking for Erwin, Hange, or Levi but come out dry from your search. Eren must be sensing your unease because he’s leading you toward the doors, ready to yank the two of you out of the situation. 

But before he can, a man stops him, tapping him on the shoulder to talk to him. You both stop in your tracks, half turning around to look at him. He’s extremely tall, looming over the two of you, and you feel infinitely small in front of him. He looks at Eren, a self-assured smile pressed on his face as he introduces himself. 

“Scott Clarkson. I’m a producer for Stone Studios.” 

“I’m Eren Jaeger. This is-” 

“I know who you are, Eren. I was invited to see one of the first cuts of the latest movie you just filmed and-” 

Before you can even understand what’s happening, he has his hand on Eren’s shoulder, and they’re walking down the length of the hall, the end of their conversation lost to you. Eren looks back, and you give him a halfhearted smile as he tries to turn back before getting stuck in a larger group of people. 

You make your way back against the wall, sliding into one of the farthest chairs and swirling a cup of lemonade in your hands. You watch the pulp of the lemon dissolve into your cup as you aggressively swirl, the drops landing on the black of your skirt. 

It’s moments like this where you feel like you don’t belong. Marco’s words swirl through your mind, that this type of stuff is normal for them because they have no normal to return to, but you can’t help but feel other to them even if they are where you feel most comfortable.

Eren’s on the other side of the room, now stuck in a big group and laughing with producers and casting directors and talking about movies he’s filming and what he has lined up next. You’re on the other side of the room, sulking against the wall - you’d be shocked if they even knew who you were. 

You’re not jealous of him. If anything, it’s everything Eren deserves and more. He’s always been phenomenal. But that’s just the thing, he’s everything and you’re not even on the same playing field. 

Sometimes, it feels like Eren’s too good to be your friend. Your co-star. Someone you’re around. You can feel your knuckles turning white against the plastic of the cup, crushing against your hand. 

“You know, if you do that any harder, you’re going to spill it all over yourself. Then I’ll have to take my pants off so you don’t look like an idiot.”  

You look up to find Sukuna smiling at you, with Nobara and Maki rolling their eyes at him. You hop up, crushing Nobara and him in a hug and physically feeling the unease untangle in your chest. 

“Hi. I’m really glad you’re here I-” 

“This shit always sucks. I have no idea why we’re forced to come to these things.” Maki says, sliding into the seat on your left. Sukuna sits to your right, his arm resting across the back of your chair as the four of you whisper, well, more like the three of them explaining who all the producers in the room are, as you sit there. 

“Hey Sukuna.” 

“Hm, doll?” 

“That guy. The one talking to Eren. Who is he?” 

He squints his eyes as he cranes around the room, trying to find where you’re pointing at Eren. And when he does, you watch his eyes widen before he talks again. 

“Ah. That’s Clarkson. He’s kind of an asshat.” 

“What? Why?” 

“No, he’s just a dick. A really great producer makes super cool movies, but he’s…not the best. All that shit you hear about the industry running people dry, taking advantage of people. They’re talking about him. And his lot.” Nobara explains, glaring daggers at him. 

“Not his entire lot, Nobara. His daughter is fine.” Sukuna says, reaching over to you and Maki to flick her cheek. 

“She’s a bitch. You’re just saying that because you’re dating her.” Nobara responds, flicking him back. 

“Who's a bitch?” 

The four of you break apart, still leaning over each other, to find Eren, Levi, and a short girl with brown hair staring at you. 

“No one, Hyla.” Nobara says, grumbling as she and Maki stand up. Levi gets side-swiped into a conversation. He looks like he’d rather be five feet under than whatever he was talking about as the six of you stand up. You hold your hand out, introducing yourself to Hyla. 

“Y/N. It’s nice to meet you.” 

“Hyla Clarkson. Your dad was the one who acted in Interstellar, right?” 

“No. That’s Historia’s dad, but I get the confusion. We’re just from the same show.” 

You watch her eyebrows pinch up in confusion as she crosses her hands around her chest. 

“Oh! Was your mom the one in Moonrise Kingdom?” she asks. 

“Nope. I-” 

“So what film were they-” 

“My parents are dentists. They’re not really in the industry like that.” you ramble out, trying to spare yourself from any more embarrassment. 

She smiles, the expression not meeting her eyes, as she reaches down and links her hand with Sukunas. 

“That’s really sweet, actually. Humble beginnings and all that,” she says. 

“I think it’s pretty cool. Like yeah, we all land roles because our parents kind of help us get them in some way. But, Y/N worked her way to the lead of the show, sans famous parents. It’s a testament to true talent. ” Eren says, his voice firm.

“I agree. L/N has always been badass, especially on the screen.” Maki says, glaring at Hyla altogether. 

She rolls her eyes as she reaches into the pocket of her dress, taking out a shiny silver card and handing it to Eren. 

“Eren. This is my dad’s card. He wanted me to give you another one unless you lost it.” Hyla says, giving Eren a hug before she walks away. 

You both wait outside for Levi to join you, quietly standing against the wall. You watch Eren turn over the card in his hands before ripping it up, slashing right through Scott Clarkson’s shiny name in the middle. 

“That’s a bit harsh, Eren. He’s a really good producer from what I’ve heard,” you say. 

“Don’t care. We’ll get there on our own - we don’t need leg-ups from guys like that.” 

You smile as you lean your head on Eren’s shoulder, the anxious feeling still tingling in your chest. Levi makes his way out, giving you two a smile as you both get dragged to your next panel, individual interviews. 

You go first. The interviewer is a pale blonde girl with a stack of cards in her hand. 

“Y/N. Who's your favorite male co-star on set?” 

“Oh, um. That’s a hard question to ask, we’re all friends.” 

You can tell she’s not satisfied with your answer by her uptight posture, the irritation rolling out of her mouth. 

“Oh, don’t pick a cop-out answer. Who's your favorite male co-star? Is it Eren?” 

“Um, sure? He’s my best friend on set. But I like everyone.” 

She smiles, switching to her next card. 

“Fans have picked up on matching bracelets you and Eren have been wearing during this press tour. Can you comment on the story behind them?” 

“Oh, sure! It was last year, at the Savant Awards TV show awards. A pair of sweet fans gifted them to us.” 

She doesn’t comment any further on the story, switching to the next card as you swirl the bracelet around on your wrist, concealing Eren’s name on the beads against the inner part of your wrist. You have a feeling that what you just said will already get twisted into something it’s not, which in the worst way, distorts the entire thing for you together. 

“Okay, well, that’s all I have for you.” 

You give her a smile as you switch seats, taking Eren’s previous seat. Hange places a hand on your head, and you watch them share a look with Levi as Eren takes the seat.  

“You’re a phenomenal actor, Eren. What gets you in the zone on set?” 

“Thank you so much! I usually have to take a second before I start filming a scene just to get in the right headspace. Especially for scenes that I film with Y/N, I usually need her to be right there next to me just so I can…feel the scene before we film it.” 

The interviewer smiles, sliding to the next card as she asks Eren the questions. She couldn’t be this cheery and enthusiastic for you?

“Do you have any pre-filming rituals before you get on set and start filming?” she asks.

“I need to eat a bowl of ramen with Y/N before we start. It’s not like a good luck thing or anything, but we’ve just always started our day like that and now we just have to do it before we go on and film.” Eren responds, looking over to give you a smile. 

You give him a thumbs up as he keeps going, trying not to pay too much attention to the fact that all of Eren’s questions are about his upcoming roles, his acting techniques, his favorite parts of acting, and how yours were all about him. Granted, Eren somehow brings you up in almost every question he answers - even if it’s not explicitly related to you - which only makes the entire thing fester in your mind more. 

What are people going to say about it? This would just make what everyone says about you guys worse. 

Not that it’s bad, but they just…say things. Granted, everyone had been saying things since the start, but you’ve always chalked that up to the fact that you and Eren are closer than everyone else is. And you know how the two of you are, but everyone else seems to have their own opinions about it. And maybe you should try to stop it? But if that’s how you are, who are you to change and-

“You okay?” 

Eren’s taken the seat next to you, leaving Erwin to get interviewed next. You’re both slumped into the chairs at the back, Levi and Hange whispering in hushed voices in front of you. You can’t help but wonder if they felt this way when they were filming La La Land, but then again, they had no reason to deny anything that anyone said. They were actually together. 

“Yeah. Just want to go home.” 

He frowns as he brings a hand to the top of your head, leaning it to rest on his shoulder again. His cold fingers are in your scalp, pressing against the pulsating headache you’d been ignoring for the past hour, soothing the feeling. 

Should you guys really be sitting like this if there are cameras five feet away? And what if-

“Do you want to take a walk? We can go look for lemonade or something.” 

You nod as you both stand up, giving Hange and Levi a wave as you walk off. You’re slowly ambling behind Eren as he looks around for the drinks, the entire day replaying in your mind. 

You just want to go back to set. Have Mikasa tell you goodnight, eat breakfast with Sasha, play cards with Armin. None of this press junket, stupid interviewers, uncomfortable producers business. 

You feel a tugging on your arm, and you look back to find two girls looking at you. They can’t be much older than you, maybe eighteen or nineteen, with matching Attack on Titan shirts. With your face on it. 

“Hi. We’re Sarah and Sofia. We’re really, really big fans of the show. We were wondering if we could get a picture with you?” 

“Oh! Yeah, of course. I’d love to.” you respond. 

You take a few pictures with them before handing them their phones back. 

“Are you guys enjoying the panels?” 

“Yes! We’ve gone to every single one of yours, you’ve been doing really well.” 

You can feel your cheeks burning at their praise, reaching forward to hold both of their hands as you talk. 

“You guys are too kind. And I really, really love the shirts. Did you make them yourselves?” 

“Yeah! We also drove down two hours just to come watch, it’s been such a good weekend. We really, really admire you for what you’ve done. It seems like we hardly ever see “normal” people in the media. But every time we watch you do an interview, you always bring up our favorite songs and slang that we use, it just…makes it feel like there’s someone like us on the screen.” 

You squeeze their hands, the tears welling in your eyes as you fight them down while responding. 

“I promise, I’m a thousand times more like you than any of them, in more ways than you’d think. And…you could do it too. It’s like you said, we’re one and the same.” 

They’re smiling so brightly at you that it’s making your heart squish in your chest, the feeling all warm and gooey and self-soothing. Right. You can do it. Who gives a fuck if a stupid reporter or these people think you’re lame - the people who watch your show are the ones that matter. 

“We love you so much. You’re so, so sweet. You’re literally the nicest celebrity we’ve ever met. I’m sure you have to run soon - I can see Eren back there staring bullets at us - but we hope you have a really good birthday tomorrow, and we can’t wait to meet you again.” they say. 

You wrap your arms around both of them as they both run off, excitedly talking, as you see Eren coming up to join you. He has a cup of lemonade in his right hand, the left hand reaching forward to wipe away the one tear that escaped your eyes. 

“Sure you’re okay?” 

You look over at him, green eyes looking into yours, and reach down to take his hand. 

“Yeah. I’m okay.” 

“Let’s go home, yeah?” 

You nod, the two of you shuffling off to where you came from. 

- 

When you get on the plane, your impending panic of the “Thank You” scene comes back. You’re both landing on set on New Year’s Day - which is your birthday, so you won’t be filming. Levi and Hange granted you the night off, and Eren says the two of you can go get slushies when you land. But then you’re filming the scene the next morning. You’re both still stuck on the plane for another seven hours running through the lines. 

“Listen, you’ve always been at my side...thank you.”

You drop the script onto the table and groan loudly, to which Eren laughs in response. 

“It-it’s falling flat. This scene is too serious, I-we’re going to have to do a million takes.”

“It’s fine- we’ll just practice a lot.” 

You switch seats so you’re right next to Eren, the two of you looking down at your scripts and switching. You read each other’s stage notes - you both have a habit of writing notes to help remember lines and blocking - which you’ve found helps reading each other's notes helps you stay in line. Like you’re in each other’s head. 

You read through his little scribbles - keep eye contact, start crying here, practice this. 

“Eren.” 

“Hm?” 

“When you say practice this, you mean…” 

He leans over, eyes going wide as he snatches his own script back, face burning. The arrow saying “practice this” was pointing to the line referring to the two of you kissing.

“Were you going to practice kissing in the mirror?”

“Shut up.” 

“I think a pillow would be more sanitary. Maybe you could find a video of it on the internet or-” 

“I was going to ask if you wanted to practice with me,” Eren responds angrily. 

You can feel your throat drying, eyes met with Eren’s burning stare. 

“Um.” 

“I just thought it-it would be worse if we did it wrong. And had to keep trying, and you know that everyone’s going to come to watch us and-” 

“I guess, but-”

“You don’t have to, Y/N. I was just thinking about it, and I was going to ask. Just so we don’t…have to do it for the first time in front of cameras.” he mumbles, turning his head away to look out the window. 

You sit there for a second and think about it. Eren does have a point. Having Ymir and Reiner stand there while you kiss Eren, or anyone, for the first time would be horribly embarrassing if they were actually standing there. And it would be weird to have your first kiss for the first time in front of someone, maybe it would be a better memory if it was more isolated and someone else. 

“Okay, Eren. That actually makes sense.”

He turns back, a shocked expression spreading across his face. 

“Really?” 

“Yeah, just…don’t be weird or something if it’s bad. I’ve like never really done this before, Eren and-”

“It’ll be fine. We can figure it out together. It’s just…kissing. Can’t be rocket science.” 

You nod, albeit apprehensively, as Levi and Hange join you and Eren in the seats across from you. 

“You guys doing okay?” Levi asks, pushing bottles of water toward the two of you. 

You both nod as you take in their expressions, the two of them more stern or serious than normal. Well, Hange being more stern - Levi has resting serious face. 

“We wanted to talk to you about something,” Hange says. 

“Okay. Is everything okay?” you ask. 

“The press junket. You both were exposed to many different things you really haven’t been to before and we just…want to give you our own advice before we let you go on and about in your careers.” Hange says.

“We care about you both, and there are just some things you should know. We don’t care what you do because you’re your own people, but we just want you to be warned about things you…might see.” Levi continues. 

You and Eren give each other a weary look, halfheartedly nodding at the two of them. 

“There are some producers in the industry that don’t have your best interest. I’m sure you guys have heard rumors before of what the industry is really like and what it can do to someone - we’re trusting you both to keep your heads when dealing with situations like that.” Hange says. 

“I don’t give a shit if it ruins your reputation. You don’t let them ruin you, control you, whatever. Your safety and what you’re comfortable with comes first.” Levi says. 

“Have you guys ever been....near stuff like that?” Eren asks

Levi and Hange give each other a weary look before nodding. 

“Yes. That’s why we’re telling you because no one ever told us. They’ll make you do things you don’t want to, make it feel like they control you, and take away the things important to you so they’ll know you’ll stay. Some of them are also very deep in some very, very illegal shit, so again. If you value where you are, you won’t interact with them.” Levi says. 

You both nod, reaching for each other's hands as Levi and Hange study you with their eyes.

“Eren. Y/N. Did you notice anything weird about the press junkets we did today? Or what the media says?” 

“Not really,” Eren responds. 

You look down at your hands, focusing on the way your knuckles look when they’re flexed, from clenching so hard, as they all wait for your response. But you guess your silence is enough of an answer because Hange takes that as their sign to start talking. 

“I had a feeling. What have you been thinking?” Hange asks. 

You can feel your voice getting tangled in your throat and the tears coming to fill your eyes when it comes time to explain, to tell the three of them something they might entirely reject. Or just not understand. 

“I just-the press junket was weird. It seemed like the interviewers were all asking me questions about Eren or Connie, or my other co-stars while they were asking Eren questions about his acting and what he does to get ready on set. It just feels like-that’s the only thing they care about when it comes to me. How I interact with other people.” 

Eren’s squeezing your hand - three times - as the tears are freely spilling out of your eyes. Right with the words because now that you’ve opened this can of worms, it seems like you won’t stop until they’re all out on the floor. 

“And. At the networking event, everyone wanted to talk to Eren and not to me. And it’s not that I’m jealous of him because I want Eren’s dreams to come true just as much as mine, but it…just feels like I’m less than. Like I’m stupid for even trying because my parents are just dentists in a small town, and the only acting I’ve done before this was in a very shitty small-scale production of Hamilton at my middle school.” 

Hange and Levi scoot into the seats at your sides, Hange’s arms around you on your left and Eren’s around you on your right. Hange and Eren are squeezing your hands, Levi’s hand softly running through the strands of your hair as you sniffle through all the tears. 

“I’m sorry, kid, but this part doesn’t go away. Especially because you’re a girl, something about that makes people think they have the right to the most heinous things about you. They’ll criticize anything and everything you do. You’ll learn to roll with the punches because, at the end of the day, you’re here to make art. Let that do the talking for you.” Hange says. 

“I know. I just have to ignore them. Plus, there are nice people out there who really care about the show and what I do so-” you respond.

“More than just care about it, Y/N. People love you. The ones around you and people out there.” Eren says. 

“Another thing. Eren, the type of scrutiny you’ll face is nothing compared to what she’s going to face, just on principle. It’s your job to not be the asshole who turns a blind eye to that and it’s your job to defend her if it calls for it. And if anything, it should infuriate you enough anyways that-” Levi mentions, looking over the tops of your heads to look at Eren. 

“It already does infuriate me. Who gives the people the right to say anything about her when she’s one of the best ones on the show?” Eren responds, the anger spilling out of his mouth.

Levi and Hange give your hands one last squeeze before walking away, muttering something about how you should just focus on enjoying your birthday tomorrow and the scenes, leaving you and Eren in the seats again. 

“What were we talking about before?” you ask. 

“Everyone is stupid. You know that, right?” 

You sigh, leaning against the chair so you’re looking up at the top of the airplane, the white lights shining on the two of you. 

“I know that logically. But sometimes, it just kind of sits in my head. Repeating, and I try to convince myself it’s not true, but-”

“I’ll convince you.” 

“What?” 

“Just tell me. I’ll convince you. You could have told me before too and whenever you want. I’ll drop whatever it is I’m doing for you if this is what you need me to do.” 

You nod, thinking of the best response. Because how do you tell him that he’s the best person you’ve ever met, and this only furthers the fact that he’s just too good for you. Because you’ve never had someone defend you or be so ready to come to your aid before that you don’t know what to do with it? 

“I know how you feel. You don’t have to say it, Y/N.” 

You laugh, rolling your eyes at him. 

“Are you quoting the stage directions from our kiss scene?” 

“Maybe. But it’s true. And also, that’s what we were talking about before. Practicing kissing.” 

“Maybe after we go to get slushies for my birthday later?” 

“Yeah.” 

You both smile as you dig your noses back into your scripts, waiting for the plane to reach back to set. 

- 

You guys land on set the next day, around three pm. Eren and Levi woke you up on the plane with a little mini-cupcake and a candle to surprise you. Hange then smashed almost all of the frosting onto your face, which just earned them a good amount of scolding from both Eren and Hange. When you land, you and Eren head to the townhouse together, to change before getting slushies. 

“Why do you have your phone out, Eren?” 

“What? I always have my phone out.” 

“Not when you’re like…walking somewhere. And there isn’t even any wifi outside the townhouse, so I don’t even know what you’re doing on that.” 

“Can you just walk into the house, please? Do you have to question everything I do?” 

You pretend to scratch your temples, like you’re pondering his questions, as Eren rolls his eyes and lightly pushes your head, gesturing you into the house. And when you walk inside, they’re all waiting for you - the foyer of the townhouse decorated for your birthday and little party hats on all of their stupid little heads. 

They’re all singing Happy Birthday off cue - Reiner singing opera again, Connie screaming cha-cha-cha off cue, and Historia singing like she’s the next contestant of America’s Got Talent. Mikasa and Sasha bring over a cake with seventeen green candles, each of them giving you a tight hug as you blow out the candles. 

“Surprise!” Armin says, flashing the camera in your face. 

“This is so sweet, you guys. Thank you,” you say. 

“We have gifts. Come on, let’s open them.” Jean says, grabbing you by the hand and leading you to the center room. 

They each hand you their gifts, excitedly watching you rip off the wrapping paper. And you get why because it seems like everyone put so much thought into their gifts that it makes your heart squeeze. Mikasa gives you a nice, leatherbound notebook so you can stop writing song lyrics on napkins, and Armin compliments her gift by buying you a nice set of green guitar picks. 

You take the time to squeeze everyone in a hug and press a kiss to Ymir’s cheek, much to her dismay, because she writes you the sweetest little birthday note that makes you cry, and Reiner buys you a vinyl player to use for when you make your own record. And when you go all around the circle, you end up back at Eren, who is seemingly empty-handed. 

“Did you get me something? You don’t have to, I just-”

“Shut up. Of course, I had to. I just can’t really wrap my gift.” Eren responds, grabbing you by the hand and leading you to the closet near the front door. 

The rest of them all follow suit, watching you guys from a little distance. 

“Wow, Eren. I love it. I’ve always wanted my own closet.” 

“Shut up and open it.” 

You reach forward for the handle and swing it open, only to be met with your brothers - Colt and Falco - springing out of the closet and wrapping their arms around you. You’re squeezing the both of them so hard, so excited you’re crying because it’s literally been months on end since you’ve seen them, and you never dreamed they could even be here. 

“What are you doing here? Coco, you literally have class in like two days, and Colt so do you and-” 

“Eren flew us out for your birthday.  We’re leaving at the end of the day tomorrow.” 

You turn around, and you know you’re all teary-eyed and pink in the face, but you reach forward and squish Eren into the tightest hug known to man, eliciting cheering from the rest of them still watching you - that you entirely forgot about. 

“Eren. I love you so much. Thank you. I’ll pay you back for the plane tickets, but this really means the world to me, and I-” 

“You don’t have to pay me back. This was a gift for you, birthday girl,” he says, pinching the side of your cheek. 

- 

Nine hours later and the whole new year in the flesh, you’re scribbling lyrics into the little book Mikasa bought you. The party they threw you - fully set with games, karaoke, and a pinata that Bertholdt procured out of thin air - turned out to be so tiring that they all passed out in the foyer, sleeping on top of each other on the couch and the floor. 

“Writing a song?” 

“Yeah. I think it’s done, actually, I just need to go play it now,” you say. 

“Want me to come? I can help with the piano.” Eren asks. 

“It’s three in the morning. Aren’t you tired? And I don’t even know where the key to set is where we can access the piano.” 

Eren reaches for the closest drawer, pulling out a shiny black key and dragging you out by the hand. You both pull on jackets and run out into the dark to the tandem bike, pushing towards set while shivering in the cold air. 

And when Eren opens the set door and turns on the lights, you immediately scream and duck behind him. 

“What the fuck is that?”

“Ymir’s prosthetic titan.”

“God. Do they need to leave it at the front door? That literally scared the shit out of me.” 

He laughs, locking his hand in yours as he drags you to the piano near the back of the set. You yank your hoodie off your head, placing the lyrics on the front of the piano. 

“Okay, so. Sing it. I’ll see what chords make the most sense after.” 

You nod, going through the first verse. 

There’s glitter on the floor after the party  Girls carrying their shoes down in the lobby  Candle wax and Polaroids on the hardwood floor You and me from the night before, but

Eren starts playing the piano around the chorus, a light piano tune filling the air. And he’s watching you so intently as you sing the lyrics, change words around with your messy handwriting, and he thinks at this moment, with your forehead all scrunched up in concentration and your sweet voice in the air that you might be his favorite person to be around. 

Don’t read the last page But I stay, when it’s hard, or it’s wrong, or we’re making mistakes I want your midnights But I’ll be cleaning up bottles with you on New Year’s Day

And when you finish, he’s wrapping his arms around you, his voice so soft when he whispers in your ear that it makes the hair on your skin stand up. 

“You are…amazing. You know that?” 

“Eren. You’re so-” 

He cups your cheek in his hand, his thumb rubbing back and forth as he looks into your eyes, the look so warm, so sincere that it makes your chest tingle and your heart pound. Any denial of the fact will be met with pushback, so you drop it. 

“Thank you, Eren.” 

He smiles, dropping his hand to play the chords again and write them in the book. 

“Hey.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Is this song about me, Y/N?” 

“What?” 

“Well, the line. You squeeze my hand three times in the back of a taxi? Isn’t that kind of our thing? Squeezing hands three times.” 

You can feel your cheeks burning as you focus on the lyrics. And god, maybe the song is about Eren. You didn’t intend to write it that way, but he’s right. The candle wax, and the polaroids are mentioned in the song.

Those are all things you associate with him. 

“I guess so. I mean, I didn’t mean to really write it that way, but I guess that’s how it came out.” 

He smiles, a smirk on his face as he starts teasing you. 

“Am I your muse?” 

“Shut up. You’re so fucking stupid, Eren.” 

“You and me, forevermore huh?”

“Eren. Stop.”

“I’m teasing, Y/N. I like the sound of that. And the entire song, it’s really good. You should submit it to perform for the Savants.” 

“No. I could never do that.” 

He rolls his eyes as he shuts the book, swinging on the other side of the piano bench to lean against the now-closed piano. You’re both sitting silently, taking in the set when it’s so empty. Everyone’s ODM gear is labeled in the closet with their names, Eren’s prosthetic titan arms lying nearby, and Levi’s cleaning supplies. 

Eren clears his throat, breaking the silence. 

“We-um. Were supposed to get slushies yesterday.” 

“Oh. I’m sorry, I just got so distracted.” 

“Yeah. And.” 

“And?” 

“Weweresupposedtopracticethekiss.” he mumbles out, rubbing his hand against the back of his neck. 

You feel your eyes widen as the recognition hits you. You’re supposed to kiss Eren tomorrow morning. 

“Oh, shit. That’s literally tomorrow.” 

“Yeah.” 

The silence hangs between the two of you as the pit in your stomach starts burning. 

“Do you want to practice now? Just so we’re good for tomorrow morning?” 

“Oh. Yeah, I guess.” 

You both awkwardly shuffle on the piano bench facing, splitting your legs between each side so you can both scoot closer to each other. And you can feel your heart beating really fast at being this close to him, all alone. 

He must sense it, because he puts his hand in yours, squeezing three times, before talking. 

“You okay? We don’t have to.”

“No. We should. I-I want to.” 

He nods, lifting his hands in the air as confusion spreads across his face. 

“You can put your hands wherever. It’s okay.” you say

“O-okay. Right, Y/N. Sorry I-” 

“Don’t worry. I’ve never done this before either.” 

He settles for cupping the side of your face with his right hand and leaving his left hand resting against the side of your waist. You place your hands against his hoodie, crumpling the fabric in your hands as you try to limit the sweat gathering on your palms. 

“Okay.” 

“Okay, Y/N. You ready?” 

“Yeah.” 

He leans forward and presses his lips to yours, the sensation so strange that you forget to move your lips and freeze up against your face. You both stay there for three seconds - but it feels like an eternity. And when he pulls away, you can feel the embarrassment rushing to your face when you realize what just happened. 

You just kissed him wrong. You forgot to kiss him back. 

“Oh my god, Eren. Oh my god, I’m so sorry. I was so thrown off by it, and I just made your first kiss wrong, and I-” 

“Y/N.” 

“Oh god. We’re going to fuck this up so badly tomorrow. I’m going to fuck this up so badly tomorrow. And we’re going to-” 

“Y/N.” 

“Ymir is never going to stop making fun of me. And then I’ll probably-” 

He drops his hands and reaches for your wrists, squeezing hard as he talks. 

“Y/N. Stop.” he says, his voice so soft, so earnest that it stops you in your tracks. 

“It’s okay. You didn’t mess anything up. I think you’re just…thinking about it too hard. This isn’t the kiss we’re doing for tomorrow or the show. This is just you and me, kissing here and now. So just…relax. It’s just us.”

You groan as you put your hands on your face, murmuring through your fingers. 

“How do you always say the right thing like that? It pisses me off.” 

He laughs, grabbing your wrists and placing them back on his shoulders where they were before. And when he secures his hand around your cheek and your waist again, his green eyes are shining in the set light and you think he might be your favorite person to be around. 

“Ready, Y/N?” 

“Ready.” 

And when he leans forward this time, you move your lips too, taking notice of how soft, how warm his lips feel against yours. How the sensation tingles all the way down to your stomach, makes your cheeks burn and your brain prickle. You instinctively lift your hands off his shoulders, feeling the softness of his hair between your fingertips and how his hand is only guiding your mouth closer to his like he’s pushing your lips together more than they already are. 

And when you both pull away, you’re both staring at each other - dilated eyes and swollen, pink lips. Your hands in his hair and his hands around your waist, breathless. 

When he cracks a smile, you can feel your entire resolve shattering. You make no effort to stop beaming at him the way you are, because you know you couldn’t even if you tried. 

“Hi Y/N.” he whispers.

“Hi Eren.” you whisper back. 

And you both laugh so hard that it makes your chest hurt. 

“Listen, Y/N.”

“Yeah?” 

“You know. We’re practicing. And doing it one time doesn’t mean it’s perfect, so-so we should try again. You know, for method acting purposes and-and.” 

You smirk, reaching forward to pinch his cheek.

“You want to kiss me so bad.” 

“Shut up. We don’t have to, I just want to make-” 

“We can.” 

He smiles, leaning forward to press his lips against yours again, his breath tickling the tip of your nose and his lips pressing against yours again, this kiss better than the last. You’ve committed it to memory - how his lips fit perfectly against yours, where his hands feel the best. 

For acting purposes, of course. 

- 

You and Eren are ready bright and early to film the scene. Seconds before you start, Levi comes over and drops a key piece of information that leaves you and Eren pink in the face.

They’re cutting the kiss from the script.

--

--

next part linked here

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[typingdyslexiaisathing]

Hidden Under Blankets (Obey Me!) fic

Leviathan had left his room to head down to the kitchen and grab himself a snack of some kind. having spent the past five hours on his newest video game to finally find a suitable save point. All but inhaling the last cup of instant ramen to then use the bathroom and rinse off his face. Taking his time to think on if he should keep playing his game or just call it a night and sleep. He was really into the new game and wanted to find out what the story had lined up. But a yawn had him sigh to decide he should keep playing later. Since it wouldn't do to find out a plot twist when he was barely awake.

So the Avatar of Envy walked back to his bedroom. Only to find that the door was slightly open. Leviathan had been sure he had closed it when he left. So he knew it wasn't because he had forgotten to. His mind going into overdrive to ask dozens of questions. Was Mammon breaking in to ransack his stuff again?! Had Belphegor mixed up which room was his while sleepwalking?! What if some kind of alien species had decided to teleport into the Devildom and into the hallway to wait in ambush for him?! Or worse, steal all forms of otaku culture?!

Leviathan was instantly awake and alert enough to press his back against the wall and make a strategy. His tail gently easing the door open all the way to then wait for incoming hostiles. Yet nothing happened for Leviathan to wait a few moments. So the demon ever so slowly inched his way to the doorframe to peek inside his room. No one was there. Not a pesky Mammon or weird alien or even a wizard waiting to send him to a new world on a quest to save a kingdom. Just his room with the computer he left on humming and the fish in his fish tanks. But Leviathan knew better than to let his guard down. So he prepared himself before stepping into the room to duck down behind his bathtub. His gaze going to the closet to then look towards his desk. No signs of movement or anyone hiding in the closet or under the desk. Nothing but a few manga volumes and DVD cases.

But soon Leviathan did hear something. A shifting that was coming from inside his bathtub to also give a sigh of air. Making him tense before he blinked a few times. His brain wondering if aliens slept in bathtubs before he shook his head to clear it out better. So he leaned up to then see there was several blankets in the bathtub that weren't his. The lump under them moving as if turning over. So Leviathan used his tail to carefully lift the blankets and see who was in his chosen place of sleeping. There in the bathtub was you. Currently snuggling his anime body pillow and looking very lonely. Leviathan piecing things together for him to sigh in relief. So he reached over to poke you in the cheek a few times. Which had you openly grumble before you opened your eyes to look up at him. Leviathan took a second for you to blink the sleep out of your eyes. Then he leaned his head on his hand to ask, "Were you planning on kidnapping me to your room or are we going to share my bathtub?"

The fact Leviathan was being so casual over this made you smile. "I was going to leave that up to you. Since I only brought the blankets due to it being so cold and Lucifer not wanting to turn the heat up. But you might have to convince me to give you a blanket to use. Or just share both of them with me." Leviathan openly squeaked to blush from head to toe. Yet he soon smiled to actually lean down and lift you into his arms. Carrying you bridal style out of his room to head for your room and your much comfier bed. "I say we share a bigger bed and all the pillows you keep getting from us. Maybe if we wish hard enough, we'll wake up to snow in the morning. I know I'd be glad to get snowed in."

[loserlvrss]

꒰ 𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐒𝐍𝐀𝐂𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 ꒱ 이동혁

summary : you convinced your boyfriend to bring you to a convenience store at 2am because you were simply hungry

genre : fluff, haechan x afab!reader, oneshot, drabble tws : pet names author notes : in honor of the convenience store tiktok i watched (like two weeks ago now) word count : 0.6k

the streets were empty, save for the couple late night runners and drunk stumblers. you clung to your boyfriend due to the cold of late winter, burying the bottom half go your face in the oversized scarf around your neck.

you saw the familiar glow of a convenience store, growing excited at the thought of grabbing a coffee — you didn't need more of — just to keep you up while you finished studying for your mock exams. you knew you'd be sat on the edge of your bed, computer opened on your compactable desk, notes littering the area around. you didn't even have to predict haechan's arms around your waist as he would sleep peacefully. you honestly figured it might even be an all-nighter tonight, but you didn't mind. whatever to make yourself happy, and truthfully you liked being able to look out into the night sky from the wide windows of your room; it giving you some kind of peace. and tonight, the sky was clear.

he held the door open for you, and you stepped out of the darkness and under the fluorescent lights. the store was almost completely empty, only a couple other students getting late night snacks. you liked how it reminded you of a quiet life, one that you wouldn't mind having.

your boyfriend followed you to the freezer that had cups of different cut ice, you choosing one that was just a giant ball. he didn't choose one, simply because he grabbed a strawberry milk for the two of you to share over bagged hazelnut coffee. he wasn't particularly hungry, but he couldn't say no to you — especially when you looked so cute practically begging him to come with you.

you went down the aisle filled with bagged chips and assorted sweet-snacks, turning and asking the man browsing, "do you want ramen?"

he raised an eyebrow and you both laughed quietly, "whatever you want, love."

you gave him a satisfied smile and went off to find your favorite pink-packaged buldak ramen. you also found a couple slices of cheese, just to drown out some of the spice.

when he was sure you were finished getting everything you wanted, he helped carry it to the counter. the worker rang it up quickly, and before you could finish pulling out your card to pay, haechan's was already in the machine; it dinging and signaling that the transaction went through.

you looked to him, not because you were surprised but because you were annoyed, he had payed for your dinner earlier as well, and now the snacks you dragged him to get at 2am with you. but you knew that if you were to ask him if he was hungry in a couple hours, he'd pay for your fried chicken order without you even knowing. he was always generous with you — he, simply, loved you so much.

"thank you." you said to the employee, grabbing the stuff and making your way to the bar-esk table. you turned to haechan, pouting out your lip to him.

"you're not going to say thank you to me?" he laughed out, punching a hole into the foil on top of the strawberry milk with the straw. you watched as he sat down, continuing to front being upset with him for paying. "after i was so generous, can't even give me a kiss?"

"oh hush," you gave in, dropping the act. you grabbed his face with your chilled hands, bringing yourself to plant a sweet kiss to his lips. you pulled away, a dorky smile on his face. "thank you, baby."

"anything for my girl."

reblogs, likes and comments are greatly appreciated! thank u!

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[sardonic-the-writer]

𝐄𝐱𝐭𝐫𝐚 𝐇𝐞𝐥𝐩

↳ summary: you ask your distant and cold professor for some help with your thesis. good thing he seems to be an expert on fear

↳ warnings: mentions of murder, booze, guns, and some gore. canon type gotham violence. a wiff of stalking maybe?

↳ song: aleph—gesaffelstein

masterlist!

University life wasn't much different than you had expected. Television and movies glam it up to make it sound like the peak of your young adult life. A time for exceeding expectations and drinking cheap booze out of those weird solo cups in a random person's basement. But this was Gotham—where crime is the highest in the country and misfortune runs galore. The closest anyone got to walking into a stranger's basement these days was with the threat of a gun at their back.

In preparation for the quote-unquote finest school Gotham had to offer, instead of going out and buying the list of supplies your school recommended, you simply lowered your expectations. Not like there was much to begin with in the first place. You could get a protractor later.

Your thought process proved to be worth it too. Barely an hour into your first day, the campus was evacuated as a precaution for a major villain sighting in the area. Something about filling up a building with highly dangerous gas. As of weeks later, details still hadn't been released to the public. That was fine by you. All you cared about was not getting ripped away from your precious lunch again.

The campus cafeteria was drafty and smelled of mold, parties were thrown way too often, and most of your professors were stern with classes people only took so they could get their degrees.

In that case, Mr. Crane was no different from any of the other teachers.

There was certainly no lack of students in his class on the first week—the largely female percentage most likely gathered because of his pretty face. But by the end of it, over half had already dropped out.

You were not one of them. Somewhat regrettably, you had begun to think after hours of pouring over papers in just the first week. But you needed this class to fully understand your thesis topic and you'd be damned if you moved all the way out to Gotham for nothing.

That was what you were thinking about as you rounded the back row of Doctor Crane's class, staring blankly at the missed call from your mother atop your phone's home screen.

It had practically become a ritual for her to call you at least once a day since you'd moved to the city. Anytime you didn't pick up, it would send her into a frenzy—despite your multiple explanations of why you have your phone on silent during lectures. But that wouldn't stop her from constantly pleading for you to come back and finish getting your degree at home. Because even if it would take longer, and completely drain your bank account, at least you would be away from those lunatics. Or so she called them.

"You have nothing to worry about." You'd told her one time while watching a bowl of ramen bubble angrily on your stove. "Even if I was mugged or something, I'm sure the Batman would save me."

It had been meant as a half joke, said only to quell your mothers worries. Yet the more and more newspaper stands you passed on your way to the store, the more the vigilanties name came up. Often accompanied by the words HERO or SAVIOR afterward.

The sudden memory of newspapers stopped you right as you were about to cross the threshold from the lecture hall to the rest of the building. You were quick to turn around, flipping your phone back into your pants pocket loosely before approaching the professor's desk. A few more students filed out from behind you, one even tossing you a wave, before it was just you and the professor left.

Doctor Crane was nothing short of intimidating. Everything from the clean cut suit he worse, to his icy blue eyes—and even his second title as lead doctor in the nearby Arhum Asylum—was surrounded by an air of stoic professionalism.

The man hadn't even been there on the first day of school. Something that would have off-put you if not for the sudden evacuation, haulting any chance of first impressions. Instead, he had shown up the next day like nothing had happened: lips pressed into a tight line and eyes dull as he spoke to the class without really looking at anyone.

He had made it clear on multiple occasions that he was rarely available after class or for tutoring hours, but you doubted that even if he was, nearly anyone would show up for a one on one conversation.

Looks like you would have to be the outlier today.

You waited patiently as he shuffled from one stack of paper to another, eyes never once drifting over the rim of his glasses to look at you. Occasionally you would catch a glimpse of his usually devoid face break into a little frown before making a mark on a paper and moving on. You resisted the urge to peak and see if any of those papers were yours.

"Yes?" He adressed you by your last name suddenly. Packets and papers continued to shuffle. This time he did spare you a glance, a flash of something swirling in his cold eyes before disappearing. Or maybe that had been the dim light. It had been to quick for you to catch.

You cleared your throat before speaking; adjusting your bag unconsciously.

"I had a question or two for you about my thesis topic." You said with a level tone. He asked what it was somewhat dismissively, his monotone way of speaking ever present.

"I've been researching fear and its effects on the human brain for quite sometime, so I felt it was only fitting for that to be my topic."

That seemed to gather his attention. When you looked up from your examination of the plain black stapler on the corner of his desk, you were met with one raised eyebrow. His hand was writing on the stapled essay before him considerably slower.

If you squinted hard enough it almost looked like he was smiling.

"May I ask what has garnered your interest in such a subject?" He pressed. For a moment your mind went a little blank, not expecting such undivided attention from him. It was unnerving, concidering that before today he probably didn't even know your first name.

"Well, I've always been interested in how much emotions have a grip on the mind." The words were now tumbling from your mouth in a flurry of half-baked thoughts.

"It was only after moving here that I really realized how it can affect an entire city, much less just one person. Everyone knows how absurd the crime rates here are, but I don't think they've ever seen the stark contrast in the Gotham residents from, say, another neighboring city.

And not to mention there's a whole group of personas parading around the block inspiring pure fear. When the bigger crimes aren't outwardly released to the public, I'm starting to think the ones the police can cover up are being covered up. I did a quick search of specific types of crimes related to the patterns of people like the Joker, Bane, and Scarecrow, and too much adds up for it to all be a coincidence."

You reminded yourself to breathe. You knew you were passionate about this subject—hence the decision in thesis topic—but you were never this chatty with it. Something about Doctor Cranes' unwavering stare drew it all out of you in one go. He was a surgeon at the moment, prying your brain apart from the inside out and turning it over in his hands.

Or maybe you were over analyzing things again.

"And what do you think of this Scarecrow?" He had stopped grading now, plucking the clear rimmed glasses of the bridge of his nose and folding them neatly beside him. In a second, his icy blue gaze seemed to intensify in strength, pinning you in place like a specimen of his to observe. You made the brief connection between this and a lepidopterist pinning up butterflys by their wings. It was quick to leave.

Instead you thought back as news clippings and articals flashed in bold print on your mind. Pictures of the victims he had since left behind followed.

Most of them had died from shock or poison, toxins coursing through their bloodstream too fast for their bodies to handle. Not a wonderful way to go, but it was no better or worse than the dozens of mugging gone wrong that occurred everyday. If you ignored how they had all clawed their eyes out in terror, that is.

Your response came slow and methodical, words chosen with care. You were well aware that people had been thrown out of prestigious universities for speaking their minds about less, and you couldn't afford that right now. Besides. He had asked you a question. Who were you to deny him?

"I think what he's managed to make, to do, is a breakthrough in the scientific and medical field." If your professor noted the way you swallowed thickly he didn't say anything.

"What else?" It was almost like he knew every thought that crossed your mind before it even formed. As if he had been preparing for this exact moment.

You could continue. You could tell him that you'd started sitting by your thoroughly locked window at night, waiting patiently to catch a glimpse of a masked maniac. You could tell him that monster was the exact thing that pushed you to move to Gotham. You most certantly could tell him that you wanted to get your hands on that gas to do some tests of your own—see exactly what this Scarecrow had managed to create.

But instead you looked to the left and told him that was it.

"Well if that's all, I would like to continue this conversation at a later date." Doctor Cranes glasses were back on now as he stood up and began gathering his things.

"I'm not sure—"

"I'm quite interested in what you have to say." He adressed you by your last name again, shutting his briefcase closed with a chilling click. "After all, I have written some papers on this exact subject."

You know. You had read them in your search for more information on the Scarecrow's toxin.

"I'll keep that in mind, professor." You glanced at the doorway, wondering if it would be unacceptable to make a dash for it. You didn't want to be late for work any more than you were already. And if you were being honest this conversation had taken a turn you weren't prepared for.

By some grace of god he let the conversation drop. Not caring to spare another glance at him, you took to the door, planning out the route home in your head.

If he watched you go, you didn't notice. It wasn't until you had gotten home in your stained work uniform, beat up trainers grayed with labor, that you noticed your folder for his class was missing.

"Shit." You dragged a tired hand down your face, kicking off your socks as you lay next to the spread out compartments of your backpack.

You sighed. Looks like you'd be seeing Doctor Crane again sooner than you thought.

[whalesforhands]

instant ramen and friendship (satosugu x reader)

warnings: first year!SSS, satosugu ‘flirting’, gege if u hear me pls let me have my satosugu fluff, avid believer that gojo never ate any ‘instant’ food until geto

“I don’t eat peasant food.” Gojo Satoru’s crossing his arms as he stares at the pot of instant ramen Suguru and yourself were cooking.

“Then don’t eat.” Geto Suguru’s cold reply to the petulant classmate of his, stirring the contents within the boiling pot as you stood beside him, trying to fry the eggs as inconspicuously as you possibly can, nervously trying to tiptoe further away from the duo’s teetering on almost flirtatious argument.

Silence.

You peek over your shoulder only to see Gojo’s impertinent stare stuck on the back of Geto’s head, eyes narrowed in irritation with brows furrowed deep, shoulders hunching in as he tapped his foot against the ground.

You have to admit, their relationship… Has been improving lately.

From that moment the duo had come back from their mission together, Geto’s arm slung over Gojo’s shoulders whilst clutching his bandaged torso, effectively using the Six Eyes user as a crutch, hobbling to his side whenever his injury seemed to worsen slightly.

Or when Gojo would go and bother him by strutting into his room, demanding another ride on his flying cursed spirits or to show him around a peculiar area nearby.

“When you said you’d treat me for saving your life, this isn’t what I thought I’d be getting.”

“Oh, well.” He turns to look the sorcerer in the eye. “I’m so sorry, revered one. We’re just students on a measly allowance without the funds for an ultra high class luxury experience.”He ends with a roll of his eyes, huffing and tucking a strand of his free neck-length hair back.

“Ah, (last name)-san. Could you help me chop the green onions afterwards—.” You pause in your administrations with the knife, green onion already being halfway diced before you nearly nick yourself.

“Ah, I’m sorry. Please be careful.” His hand is immediately over yours, causing a restless shiver to go up your spine as you stiffen.

“It’ll be bad if you get hurt, won’t it?” Suguru is flashing you a sweet smile, one of care and concern for your well-being as you nod.

You stiffly waddle to the side as he leaves to go get more garlic seasoning, shaking your head to snap out of it.

You eyes surreptitiously take this chance to watch Gojo again, his body language… Somehow more telling than his ice cold, holier-than-thou attitude that hides an intrigued, hungry teenaged boy.

The way his eyes flicker to the boiling pot, to the fried eggs, the slight twitch of his nose as he takes another whiff of the air.

To even the way his feet seemed to nudge him forward ever so slightly, uncertain steps that didn’t know what to do. …does he want to help?

“Gojo-san.” You take a hesitant gulp, steeling your nerves for a prickly reply. “Is there anything you want to put in?”

“…”

“Cheese.”

——

Geto takes off the steaming lid, revealing the gorgeously placed in a neat manner, practically shining with promise of a gastronomical experience.

“And there you go. My special recipe.” Your eyes are lighting up at the sight, the aroma of the food doing little to sate your overpowering hunger as you watch.

“Pfft. I’ve seen it before. It’s just noodles in artificial—“

“That’s where you’re wrong, you pompous elite.” He has a proud smirk on his face. “This one’s got my special stock addition, green onions, spam, fried eggs and cheese.” A hand is proudly placed upon his hip as he closes his eyes, pleased and gratified at the result of his cooking prowess.

(Even if it was only instant ramen.)

Gojo narrows his eyes in suspicion. “There is no possible way something instant coul-“

“Just shut up and eat.”

Surprisingly, he listens. He picks his chopsticks up, muttering a quiet thanks for the food before taking a tentative slurp of his noodles, pausing in place as the broth seeped into his tongue and exploded in the most perfect, most wondrous blend of flavour in his mouth.

His eyes widen in pleasant surprise, oceanic eyes flickering between the steaming bowl of ramen and back to your two awaiting gazes.

He inhales his portion, akin to a wild beast that had been starved of prey for at least a year with the pace he was going at, you could even see how many gulps he took of the broth when he picked the rather sizeable bowl up to swallow it all down.

(It was less than 5. And Suguru made a rather large portion after noticing how much he and Satoru could eat combined.)

(“A-are you okay? You shouldn’t—“

“Let him choke, (last name)-san.”)

…

He gingerly places the bowl down, licking his lips to savour the remnants of the food.

“I want more.”

“Oh? Looks like someone’s missing a magic word.” Geto feints a pout, narrowed eyes with playful malice directed towards the spoilt teenager.

“…please.” Gojo’s averting his gaze, looking to the side as a noticeable blush is seen across his face.

“How unfortunate, that was the last pack.”

masterlist

Notes:

You are the only one who thinks their banter is flirtatious.

“Oiii, I’m back.” Ieiri calls out, kicking her loafers off as she tiredly drags herself into the common living area.

“Do you all want to grab a bite?” She’s staring at her phone as she continues in. “You can be invited too, rich boy.”

You pop out from the corner. “Ieiri…” You look frightened and stressed, a loud crash coming from the kitchen just as you flinch.

Another loud bang sounds out as you jump, the clash of pots and utensils sounding out as you practically block her passage into the warzone.

“Please do not step inside…”

“…you okay with crepes?”

“Sure…”

Gojo bought a carton full of that particular ramen brand after he squeezed it out of Geto. He asks you to help him with the stove when Suguru refuses to.

[yrthr]

☾ COLD SHOULDERS ; PARK GUNWOOK

gunwook masterlist / zb1 masterlist ; wc 0.975k

➛ genre ; angst - fluff ➛ warning ; cursing , mentions of food

🎧— sorry this took so long anddd i think i also got carried away with this one..

the tension in the living room was intolerable. the rectangle room which was once considered a safe haven turned into some kind of war-zone.

snarky remarks with raised voices and the added passive aggressiveness bounced off the four brick walls and into the emotions of the couple sitting on the couch.

“ it’s not my fault you were scolded today. “

“ and ? how does that play into this right now , you clearly knew i was in a bad mood and you still couldn’t let me cool off. “

“ i just asked you to eat the dinner i prepared. i literally spoke three words. “

gunwook let out an annoyed ‘ tsk ‘ , rolling his eyes and he stared holes into the electronic device he was suddenly so interested in.

“ no one asked you to prepare it , god you’re so naggy. “

as if his actions weren’t enough to full the bubbling anger in you , the absolute ungratefulness was the breaking point.

“ …fuck you. “

leaving the couch in a huff you grabbed the necessities for the night and threw them in the guest room , slamming the door shut.

the next day rolled around after a rather unsettling sleep. out of habit you reached out your hand to the other side of the bed before realising the person that usually greets you every morning was no where in sight.

you sighed out of frustration and a slight hint of embarrassment as well.

ding !

the rectangular device vibrated on the white sink , which almost caused it to fall off the curved edge. somehow the spidy sense in you managed to catch it in time , a sigh of relief escaping your lips.

with a toothbrush half sticking out of you mouth and toothpaste smothered around your lips you smiled at the silly conversation with your friend.

‘ y/n bbg wna watch the little mermaid today ? my treat. ‘

‘ now ? ‘

‘ starts in 3 hours , meet me for lunch at coex. ‘

‘ ight thanks sugar mommy. ‘

after putting on a comfortable outfit for the day and one last quick comb of your hair you begrudgingly opened the door dreading the thought of seeing the culprit of all your anger from the previous night.

‘ out the door at last , ‘ you thought , ‘ never have i ever been this happy to get out of the house. ‘

the day out definitely cheered boosted the once sour mood and took your mind off the problem. movie , arcade games and even a spontaneous aquarium trip also ripped that bank account. [ me fr ]

“ are you sure you don’t want me to drop you off at your apartment lobby ? “

“ nah i wanna hit the convenience store anyways , see you at school. “

“ see you , and do your homework. “

“ bye mother. “

you watched as the silver car drove off leaving you walking towards the said convenience store.

picking up the ramen package and a drink you considered getting a snack for gunwook as well.

‘ he can get his own shit. ‘ the little devil sitting on your shoulder whispered into your ear.

click click click !

ah… home sweet home.

the empty bundled up plastic bag served as a coaster for the cold drink , the seasoning scattered across the counter and the open packet of noodles , together with its consumer , waited rather impatiently for the water to boil.

“ where did you go ? “

a voice came from the hallway which its owner came crawling out of the darkness right after.

he walked into the light of the kitchen with disheveled hair and hands behind his back staring at the floor.

a spark of annoyance rushed through your veins as you fought an internal battle to not roll your eyes at the sheer sound of his voice.

ding !

saved.

saved by the water boiler of all things.

you turned your back to him suddenly being extremely invested into the process of preparing ramen.

a few shuffles were heard behind you and a small ‘ sorry ‘ before the soft sound of the door closing caused a surge of relief.

you did feel bad for ignoring him but the small grudge you held against him plus the added pettiness constantly persuaded you that ignorance was the best solution.

the next few days played out about the same way.

to you it was an internal conflict of whether to forgive him now or carry on with this silence.

but to gunwook this was his version of hell.

arguments rarely happen.

small ones , sure but they were solved in about five minutes he couldn’t bare to see you upset over his actions. [ even if it wasn’t his fault ]

he’s tried almost everything he could think of , trying to strike up conversations with dumb questions , leaving food on the table for you after a long day of school which he’d hide in the hallway and take a quick glance or two to see if you’d eat it.

bringing you water while you’re locked up in your room even organising the mess on your desk hoping you’d notice and say something.

but you were still ignoring him.

gunwook was at his breaking point.

and so once again today you came back home from a tiring day of school ready to retreat into the guest room for some much needed youtube when you were suddenly engulfed into a warm embrace.

one at you shared with a certain someone.

“ im sorry.. please stop ignoring me. “

he muttered and muzzled himself into your collarbone while practically squeezing you against himself.

“ sorry too i should’ve just let you cooled off before saying anything. “

he shook his head and you felt tears trickle down.

“ its my fault… im sorryy “

you felt his grip tighten which made you instinctively chuckle and ruffle his hair.

“ don’t cry you big baby. “

“ im not ! “

he whined but made no effort to stop or wipe his tears away.

“ yeah yeah sure you aren’t babe. “

divider by @animatedglittergraphics-n-more

©️ yrthr 2023