#school and band takes a lot out of me

[girlatrocity]

I was thinking what if her hair looks different because of toga's blood transplant which makes no sense scientifically but actually guys it's possible w the power of love ☝🏻

[spirirsstuff]

hear me out. connor murphy but musically educated

[krash-8]

ok so I get the schools football team is great and you can afford to spend thousands of dollars on signs that glow when they play and shit but can you go back to not charging kids for pads. or at least stocking the dispensers that do

[pinkcadillaccas]

Anyone else feeling the relentless march of time on this Saturday night

[35gofbeansprouts]

💭.

[strawberrymochin]

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 ☀︎

Rockstar!gojo x art student!femreader

synopsis- satoru gojo fell in love with you when he was 17. He tried everything to gain your attention—joining the student council, participating in every extracurriculars, performing well in academics yet nothing worked. That was until high school. In college, having been forced into a band, he needed to find a new artist for their posters which he requested shoko to take care of. What he didn't expect was shoko to bring you as a volunteer—

warnings- college!au, satoru being heads over heels for you, he’s so damn in LOVE save my boy, friends to lovers, misunderstanding, SEMI PUBLIC SMUT, fingering, oral fem receiving, PUSSY DRUNK GOJO, dirty talk, creampie, BALL OF FLUFF, ANGST, mentions of smoking and alcoholism, super cute ending

w.c- 8.2k (have faith)

a/n's note- i'd poured out my heart in this (especially the smut). i hope you all do like this. your comments and reblogs are highly appreciated as it helps motivating me for writing long ass fics. taglist is open you can ask me to join. love ya' all!!

When satoru met you for the first time, he was 11 years old. 

You were the daughter of his mother’s friend whom he heard of so many times. Though the accidental reunion in the mall while grocery shopping was the first time satoru ever had the opportunity to meet you face to face. 

It was a totally random encounter, coincidental even, you can say when your mother recognised satoru’s mom and both squealed like teenagers. They'd a lot to catch up with, thus having their kids entertain each other in the play section was convincing enough for them to chit chat in a cafe.

And this is how satoru ended up being stuffed, hand in hand with you, to go enjoy in the play section as his mother patted his back, asking him to be good to you. 

“Don't leave her hand, okay toru?! Make sure you both stay together.” His mom said before scooting herself with your mom. 

Satoru looked at you, his hand locked in yours as you made eye contact with him before shying away, looking in the other direction. He stood confused before pulling you to the gaming section, without any word. 

He scanned amongst the box of video games, before pulling out one which caught his eyes with his unoccupied hand. He gave a side look to you, reluctantly asking “you want to play this?” 

You gaze down at the video game he held in his hands, eyes sparkling a bit, if satoru wasn't seeing things, then raise your head to look at him again. “It has vibrant colours.” 

Satoru nodded, feeling a little giddy that you liked his preference. “It's called mario kart.”

“Oh.” Your eyes widened as he revealed the name. 

“Do you know how to play it?” You shake your head at his question. “Then I can teach you!” 

“Really?” 

“Yeah, let's go and install it on the playstation.” 

By the time satoru’s mother returns with your mum, they find satoru giggling along with you, hands still locked with each other, as he points to various stacked video games. 

That day slowly came to an end and satoru didn't get to see you for the next two years till your giggles became a distant echo and your face a blur. 

By the time he was 14, he almost forgot you. 

Until that one day when he noticed you, sitting alone with your lunch staring at the sky at the campus of his high school. 

You were biting on your chopsticks with dreamy eyes as recognition drew in satoru's mind. 

Y/n— he thought. His brows frowned, thoughts slowly going in a muddle. How are you here? eating lunch in his high school campus unless— you're a student over here too! Satoru felt foolish, his lips slowly curving in a smile lifting one hand, abandoning the basketball in the other to greet you. 

However, before he can get his words voiced out to you, gaining your attention, a brown haired girl comes up to you dragging you along with her in a hurry. 

Satoru's hand froze in mid air, awkwardly stretching it above his head before bringing it down and turning towards his friends. He sprinted back to his group resuming the game, yet his mind stayed with you and your dreamy eyes. 

He wanted to say ‘hi’ and watch your eyes grow wide before nodding your head just like you did back then. He wanted to show you the basketball he was holding and maybe teach you how to play ball just like he did back then. 

“Oi satoru! Why are you missing the catch?!” one of his friends shouted, breaking him free of his daze. “sorry…taking a break!” He said, excusing himself, before going and plopping himself down on a nearby bench. 

He recognised the brown haired girl—Yura. She often came to him asking for little favours. Did she know you? A friend? You studied in the same school and yet he only saw you today. Where were you all this time? Satoru was the same age as you. So you were bound to be in the same class, maybe different sections but he knew students from the other sections too. How come he didn't notice you yet?

The recess was over soon and he ran back to his class. Before entering the class, he noticed you again, hurrying to the class next to him. 

Class 1-2.

Satoru felt silly as he read the classroom name in his mind. 

As the final semester rolled on and a new semester started, satoru found out class 1-2 changed to class 2-2 and this year he was in the same section as yours. 

He was excited to finally be able to talk to you without any awkwardness. After all, you were in the same classroom now— which means you will know him when he introduces himself on the first day of class. You will see him, introducing himself aloud and clear and recognition will draw on your face as you remember him. 

That's what he initially thought the night before the first class. Until satoru felt the urge to perfect his speech and kept on practicing it, holding the crumpled sheet in his clammy hands, past midnight. 

As a result he woke up late and by the time he hurried himself to school, the self introduction was half-over. He mumbled his apologies to his homeroom teacher, before hastily introducing himself and going to his assigned seat. 

With that his perfect speech plan of gaining your attention bombed miserably. He raised his head in the direction of your seat—first row second desk, way far than his— fourth row last desk. 

That's when he decided with the determination inclining in his heart to get your attention and make you remember that it's him. 

The plan was simple. He just have to wait till recess and watch his chances closely. Once you're free and alone he will go make a move saying ‘hello’! Maybe even ask for your number. 

Recess hour came by and his plan chose to bite the dust with girls and boys swarming around him to get his number and be friends with him. The group kept him occupied for the entirety of the recess and by the time he was done you were no where to be found in class. 

Similar things happened the next day and the next day and the next day, never ceasing to leave him alone. 

Satoru eventually came up with another plan— excelling in academics. The more he's good in academics, the more are the chances for you to come up to him wanting his help to understand a problem. And the plan worked exceptionally well with girls frequenting him with a doubt in their lesson— except for you. 

This time satoru came up with his active participation in extracurriculars and sports. The more he active he is the more is the chance of you joining the same activity or maybe seek his assistance for the upcoming sports day.

This plan too, was indeed prodigious and did attracted a lot of attention except yours. 

His last option was of joining the student council. As the spirited member of the top student council, you might come up to him with a problem you're facing or anything you want to change. 

So, without thinking much he did joined the student council, hoping to finally gain your attention. However the following week, concerns and requests for changes decreased promptly. The other council members sighed, few scrutinizing satoru. After all no one in the entire school would want their so very handsome, energetic and popular Satoru Gojo to have a heavy work load after school. 

“Since we don't have any work to do now, thanks to gojo-kun, I'd gladly like you all to only maintain the regular class desk arrangement.” the student council president announced before leaving the council room. 

Satoru sighed, this isn't what he thought. He just wanted your attention not the entire school’s. Everyone looked at him, when he walked, when he sat, when he ate, people always turned around to take a second look. Yet you never laid your eyes on him. Even being in the same class you never came up to him to chat. 

Back slouched, with his tie undone, he slammed the door open of his classroom to pick up his bag. 

You flinched. 

Hand covering your mouth, a dust wiper on the other, you looked at him as he froze. 

One entire year, was how satoru spent to gain your attention, to get you look at him, and when it finally happened the time seemed to halt. The sun rays pooled into the room with slow breezes messing up your bangs and satoru couldn't mutter a word but stare.

Conscious about him gaping, he tore his gaze away from you before shutting the door, this time gently. 

The council president asked them to take care of class desk arrangements. However, the desks in his classroom have always been arranged, even before he joined the student council.

“you…um arrange the desks everyday?” He said fixing his tie, slowly walking up to his desk, wiped clean by you. “Yes.” 

Satoru accompanies you cleaning and arranging for the rest of the time in complete silence. Soon you take your leave, and so does satoru but this was the time he was happy like really really happy. 

He didn't exchange any words of recognition with you, from the day at the mall. He didn't talk. Yet he was beaming radiant, for just being with you, momentarily alone, in peace. 

That day soon came to an end and another year passed by. Satoru did nothing but admire you from afar. This was the only way he felt the closest to you. He saw how you wiped and arranged the desks everyday; help people without even letting them notice; lend the only pencil you have without a word; and care for the garden whose garish flowers were disregarded by others. 

The more he saw, the more he knew you. And the more he felt his heart slipping away. 

You were kind, gentle and soft. You noticed people behind their masks. You regarded the smallest of the things with such care. And your delicate hands, often smeared with paint, held the responsibility of others without complaining. 

He often saw yura asking favours from you, shoving her cleaning duties to you, sending you to get her lunch from the 7-eleven nearby and never once you said 'no'. You were so so precious. 

He knew he’d to stop; the way you engrossed him, linger on his mind all day to the point that he was unable to think of anything but you was straight up creepy but his eyes never stopped searching for you.

Even in the midst of the crowds on a random road his eyes would unconsciously seek for you. 

And by the time he was 17, satoru was hopelessly, absurdly and miserably in love with you.

Another year passed by and he could do nothing but stare. And the fact that you often looked at him too made things even worse. 

He was so down bad for you that he couldn't keep on going like this anymore. He was so sure he'd confess to you on the day of graduating the high school, not caring about rejection. 

Satoru stayed up an entire night, perfecting his confession. But by the time the graduation ceremony ended and he went to look out for you, you were nowhere to be found. 

He asked yura about you, to which she replied that you went back home early and satoru had his heart broken at 18. 

He couldn't move on easily but giving you up was the only option left. Unwillingly, satoru made his devastating decision of giving you up. He never thought he would see you again until a few years later in college, shoko brought you right in front of him. 

“We need a new artist to cover up for this concert.” said geto suguru, stuffing his phone back in his pockets. “Why? What happened to ren?” 

“Got himself into an accident and fractured his right arm.” Geto plops himself back down on the couch beside satoru, before pulling on the fretboard of his bass. 

“Should visit him then.” 

“Forget it.” 

“Why?” frowned satoru, geto suguru—his best friend, the one he went to middle and high school with, was not the type to feign indifference. His behavior indeed had satoru confused. 

“Nanami informed he got drunk at the last concert before getting himself into the accident. Drunk driving it is.” 

“Did yaga find out about this?” 

“Fortunately, he didn't. Nanami covered the case before him finding out,” geto brought his hand, swiping back his string of bangs, “if it reaches yaga, he will ban us from using the campus stadium.”

“lucky I'd say…so what now?” The next concert is in 3 days and the band poster is still incomplete. 

Shortly after satoru joined his college, suguru started a band along with two other guys. The band was doing well but due to a disagreement they decided to split up. Suguru then suggested satoru join the band and the following year they gained another member named nanami kento. 

They used to hold performances at random pubs but as its popularity increased, the college decided to give them the campus stadium to hold their concerts. Something they did extra was hiring an artist to do their band poster— hand-drawn. It'd become a little tradition— a lucky charm says suguru, and now that their artist had broken his hand right at the eleventh hour before the concert they will have to— 

“Find a new one.” 

“nana—” geto shuts him before he could finish his sentence. “Nanami is trying his best, so am I. So, you try finding one too.”

“How am I supposed to?” 

“Well I'm sure if you go with a face like this to the art department, people would volunteer in a line.” 

“Same goes with you, why don't you go and ask. I'm sure if you could wear your shirt a little loose you can surely get your clingy ex find a good one." Gojo says in a mocking tone, grabbing his guitar and looping it around his back before leaving the club.

He was sure annoyed, but he will have to find one, geto wasn't in a mood to joke earlier either. Rather than going by himself, he decided to ask shoko get it done for him; he was sure she'd agree for a few packs of cigarettes. 

Walking on his way to the parking lot he texted shoko to meet at their regular cafe. 

“Sup!” 

Satoru smiled knowing shoko could never fail him, even if she didn't agree right away a little guilt trip will do. 

“All good?” 

“Yeah, what do you need?” 

“Just a little favour.” 

“And what that might be?” 

“Get an appropriate artist from the art department. Ren broke his arm and suguru's so down about going himself, ya’ know about his ex,” shoko started grabbing her cup of iced coffee to retreat when gojo slammed two packets of cigarettes on the table. “I've two more packs to offer.” 

Shoko returns to her seat, a big smile on her face. “Okay! Since I'm your empathetic, gracious and compassionate friend, I will try and see what I can get done.” 

“Yes please…” 

“I'm not doing it for cigarettes ya’ know.” 

“Mhmmm” satoru nods his face dramatically.

“Get the other two packets out.” 

“Sure.” 

Satoru knew four packets would get the job done as he parted away from shoko, driving his way back home. 

And the next day when shoko texted him that she got a volunteer and is bringing her to the club, he didn't expected it to be you.

Shoko looped a hand around your shoulders “so this is the club,” chewing a gum, “and this is satoru gojo.” 

“Hi…” you said looking at him, before taking a look at those instruments laying behind. 

It’s you. It's really you. He couldn't believe his eyes yet stood unblinking as if you were some mirage and will fade away once he closes his eyelids.

“Gojo?” Shoko waved a hand infront of his face and realizing he didn't respond to you, he bent his torso bowing to you. 

“Woah,” shoko’s face scrunched up, cringing at his behavior, “when did you start being all formal?” 

You giggled at her comment while satoru hushed her with a series of ‘shut ups’. 

“I'm—” 

“Y/n.” satoru whispered almost as if reminding himself the way your name sounded in his lips. “Y/n, i know.” 

You chuckle at his words, tugging a strand of hair behind your ear. 

“You know her?” shoko tilted her head at him, not expecting you to be acquainted with him. 

“We went to the same high school.” You say when satoru does nothing but gape at you with dreamy eyes. 

His heart did a whole somersault at your sentence. You remembered him; you remembered his name; you remembered he was in the same high school as you. The fact that you regarded him made him so giddy that he was practically ready to throw his hands up in the air or kiss the floor on which you walk.

“Kay’ I'll leave you guys to talk then.” She smirked before raising a cocky eyebrow at satoru, excusing herself from the club. 

“So…you're the only one?” 

“Huh?”

“In the band— i mean…”

“Oh no” he dragged, “there are two more members along with the back musicians…” 

You humm, taking a proper look at the club. 

“You like it?” 

“It has vibrant colours.” 

Your words echoed in his ears, the same which you said to him at the mall. Oh how bad had he wanted to hear those.

“The jazzies,” you read the name of their band aloud, “why jazzies? You only play jazz?” 

“No…we play all sorts of music…it's just a name suguru chose for the band.” 

“you do originals?” 

“Both originals and covers. Anything suguru comes up with.” 

Your mouth forms a little ‘o’ as satoru explains to you. 

“geto seems to be doing all the stuff, what do you do?” 

“You know him?” satoru’s brows furrowed. “Whom?” you ask.

“geto…geto suguru.” 

“Ofc, he was in the same class as us.” 

“Oh.” 

Ofcourse. Both he and geto were in the same class as you. It was no big deal for you to remember both of them. However, accepting that he wasn't any special was bitter. 

Satoru’s eyes followed your figure as you went out to reach for his guitar, mindlessly drawing your finger on its printed patterns.

“You didn't answer my question…”

“I guess I found you for our band.” 

When none of you says anything, satoru breaks the ice, clearing his throat.

“You know how to play?” 

“Err…no.” 

“I can teach you.” 

He slided his index among the few string instruments before pulling out an acoustic one, bringing it to you. 

“Hold the fretboard with your left hand,” satoru pulled the strap over your shoulders, “and bring your right hand over the body, fingers near the sound hole— yep that's right,” he turned your back to him, gently holding the back of your palms. 

“Now, pluck the chords for me,” his chest was against your back as he guided you through the strings. 

“Like this?” you ask him.

“Yes, you're doing very well.” 

The guitar in your hands, played smoothly as satoru guided you through it. 

Just like when he taught you how to play mario kart. 

Satoru looks down at you smiling in excitement. Oh how cute you looked like that. He could admire you twenty-four seven, never wanting to tear his gaze away, for you're that ineffably eesome in his eyes. 

Time almost ceased when you looked up at him, eyes crinkling with a smile that soon died as red creeps up your cheeks. 

Satoru’s face was mere inches away from you, his eyes wavering down to your lips. 

“SATO—RU— oh,” geto bursted in along with nanami causing you both to flinch. 

He quickly leaves your hand. 

“Y/n??” Geto dragged out your name, looking at you with his eyebrows knitting and lips forming a silly smile. 

“Hi,” you pull the strap over your shoulders abandoning the instrument on the nearby couch. “I'm here to volunteer.” 

“You do?” 

“Yeah…” 

“That's great! I can't believe satoru even managed to talk—” satoru smacked him mid sentence. 

Nanami, for some reason, found the ceilings very interesting today, totally ignoring his two seniors.

Geto explained to you about their little tradition of hand drawn posters and showed you the posters they used for the last concerts. You, then, asked them to send them a group picture of the three and their preferences for colours and themes. 

“For that I might need your number—” 

“I- i can send it to her…” Geto passed a suggestive smile at satoru, which he ignored and awkwardly forwarded his phone to you. 

“Yeah that sounds fine. Here's my number, save it and text me later.” 

“Kky!” 

You pull the sling of your tote bag up to your arm, giving them a little nod, before turning your back to leave. 

“Wait!—” satoru held your arms frantically pulling you back. He hurried to the back near the couch you plopped the guitar and shoved it to you. “T-take it.” 

“Ah— no I can't do that.”

“Take it. You can learn how to play and I- I can teach you.” he tried not to stutter yet failed miserably. 

“No i rea—”

“consider it as a gift— from me.” 

You frowned a bit but agreed anyway. 

“That's really sweet of you satoru! I will wait for your text! Bye!!” 

He waved back to you. 

“What was that?” Geto implies in the direction of the exit door through which you just left. 

“nothing.” 

Later, You sent the photo of the finished banner to satoru. It took you 42 hours to finish it. 

Satoru on the other hand was practicing really hard, totally different from his half hearted performances from the previous ones which wasn't unnoticed by the other members. 

He has to be the best. After all, this concert will be different from the previous ones. This time you will be there to see him, cheer for him, and notice him. 

You soon bring the banner rolled up to the club. “Woah! You really did a great job.” 

“This is much better than ren’s.” says nanami before going back to his drum set, giving you a thumbs up.

“Satoru?” 

“Y-yes.” 

“You liked it?” 

“I loved it. It has vibrant colours.” You giggled at his answer, shifting your direction to his gaze. His fingers seemed to flake off any dust on the surface of your work, handling it so gently. 

It wasn't his fault he felt so overwhelmed. All these years he'd yearned for one kind word from your lips yet he was left starving. 

And now you'd drawn him with such precision, that it was as if you were accustomed to drawing him for the hundredth time. 

His heart fluttered at the thought. 

“I will be there at your concert,” you say, turning your back to him. “All the best!” 

The campus stadium was full with a bunch of students and hippies, it was really hard for satoru to try locating you amongst the sea of crowds. 

The music rang loud, brisking fiery cheers from the crowd, full of vim and vigor. The spotlight shone on the three— geto with his vocals and string of bass; satoru with his acoustic guitar; and nanami with his drum set. 

The crowd roared in excitement as music coursed through their veins. 

Will you be cheering too? 

Satoru raised his head from the guitar, plucking chords effortlessly, to his audience. 

And as if it was fate that drew both of you together, his eyes found yours. You were there in the vip section, along with shoko and another girl. You were moving with beats, swaying your arms in rhythm to their music. 

His eyes locked in yours as you waved a hand at him. Oh how, how pretty you looked. Everything except you was a blur to him. 

The crowd goes even more wild, seeing satoru blush, not sensing it was you who caused it. 

The concert continued till past midnight as the vibrations thrumming around the air slowed and wrapped up with their ending song: “Where Our Blue Is.”

As the applause slowly start to dissipate, satoru pulled off his instrument, running to the edge of the stage, and hopped down the raised platform. 

The college girls shrieked baffled, some even reached out, grabbing on his wrists and clothes. He politely got out of their grip making his way to the vip section, geto and nanami following him. 

The still air felt electric as he approached you. 

“you liked the show?” 

“Ofc it was amazing!!” The girl beside you answers in your stead, whom he now recognised as yura.

“It was really good.” you say swallowing a laugh bubbling up your throat at his huffed out appearance. 

“Thanks to your banner, it even attracted more audience.” geto remarked, placing his arm around satoru’s shoulders.

“Thank you.” 

“You should thank me for bringing her in.” Shoko reclaims, looping her hand around your arm, “let's go steal some shots.” 

“Oh no i can't— i don't drink. And I need to hurry back home it's late.” 

“Kyaahh— you've let me down y/nniee. Only two packets of cigarettes can get my mood uplifte—” 

“I will bring it tomorrow.” You say shutting up her whines. 

“kk bye and text me when you get home the rest are joining me right ?”

“Count me out. I'll be driving her home tonight.” Satoru says sheepishly, ignoring the smirks and exchanged looks of his bandmates, a slight blush creeping up his cheeks.

“No but I was about to go home with her —” yura interrupts.

“Satoru’s fine. You're coming with us.” Shoko dragged her along with geto and nanami, which satoru was glad of. 

Finally he'd be alone with you.

He guided you to the parking lot from the back of the stage, before getting his car keys out. 

It's metallic jingle echoing softly as he presses the button on his key fob. The car responds with a soft beep unlocking as satoru opens the passenger door, holding it open for you. 

“Here,” he gestures with his other hand, “get in.” 

“Sure.” You say gulping thickly.

The thick smell of your cologne mingling with the leather scent of the car.

He closes the door before sprinting to the other side, getting himself in. “Don't— ” he stops you when you reach out for your seat belt. “Allow me the honor” his finger brushes against your skin as he reaches out for the seat belt. 

Your heart practically jolts at his action. 

The click of the seat belt buckle echoes softly in the quiet car, as he straightens back to his former position. 

“Where do you live?” He clears his throat, starting the car engine and flicking on the headlights before pulling out the car into the driveway. 

“In the downtown.” 

“That's quite far from the campus, how bout I drive you everyday back home?” His eyes suggestive, making you chuckle.

“I can't let you do that.”

“Why?” 

“Since it's far from the campus and you won't be visiting often.” 

“Who knows, I might be visiting your place often.” 

You turn your face from the window to look at him. 

“What?” 

“I will have to— to teach you guitar.” 

You crack up at his silliness, finding yourself melting again.

“Okay fine. But that still doesn't counts.” 

“Why not!” 

Since that day, satoru did visited you often, sometimes barging in with shoko and sometimes alone teaching you how to play guitar, plucking on chords and notes. 

And you attended all of his concerts. Their previous artist has recovered now and has resumed his work, so you no longer work with them. However they insist you tag along each time and it's not like you complain. 

You liked satoru’s company. He was handsome, charismatic and popular. You'd watched him your entire high school. He was the one of most popular students, good in a millions of things, starting from academics to being athletic. He'd win every sports competition and even participate in all the extracurriculars. You'd admired him for he could do the things which you didn't had the courage for. 

You liked how he didn't judge people, helped them in their need, and even took care of those garish flowers nobody seemed to double take.

You'd previously met him before high school, though he never brought that up. You wondered if he even remembers the day at the mall. You wanted to ask him so bad, however—

Your world was only limited to papers and paints.

So you painted. 

You painted him so many times that you'd have more than five sketchbooks with paintings full of him.

You wanted to be friends, maybe even more than friends.

But that didn't matter now. He was near you and you would do anything to keep your thumping heart in control and not have satoru cut you out of his life. 

But how can you?

How can you control it when satoru so gently, so lovingly, takes your hand in his. When he smiles so sweetly at you. When he teaches you how to pull chords and other instruments. When he drops you home from college almost everyday. When he hugs you and tells you to take care. 

How are you supposed to be just friends when he's so overly affectionate to you?

Or maybe it's just your overthinking.

Satoru was always polite and sweet, he'd always been sweet to others and you were no special. 

“What are you thinking baby?”

You come out of your daze, rolling your eyes at the nickname.

“How many times do I have to tell you not to call me that…” 

“Not my fault you aren't paying attention to me…” he pulls you closer to him, resting his face on your shoulder. 

“Have you always been this hungry for attention?” you ask, getting yourself comfortable abandoning the guitar beside you on the couch— of the club.

“I've been starving.” 

You cringe at his words. Satoru has another concert today and they just finished practicing an hour ago and now they are taking a break. 

Geto and nanami and other back artists wanted to get some fresh air so they left you and satoru alone to entertain each other. 

“Are you really skipping on me?” He looked at you with puppy eyes. 

“I've a gallery exhibition tomorrow.” You need to scoot back home to get ready for it. It's a big event for you to showcase your arts. 

Satoru hummed, nuzzling his face on the crook of your neck, “I'll be there. You're going to do great.” 

An uncertain lump forms in your throat, hard to swallow, you say nothing. Your heart was in a conflict again, no matter what you can absolutely not—

“I will be going then. All the best for your concert.” 

You push satoru away, reaching for your tote bag from the side of a random arm chair. “Wait I will drop—” 

“Who's leaving?” shoko barges in with yura and others. 

Satoru points at you. 

“I just got here. You can't leave already.”

“Yup! Yup! Please stay a little longer, baby. I'll drop you back home, no worries.” 

Shoko exchanges suggestive glances with geto and they somehow persuade you to stay a little longer.

They start practicing for another round when shoko pulls your head closer, “what do you think about gojo?” 

“Huh?!” You shout over the music, unable to hear her. 

She grabbed your hand and pulled you outside, with Yura following closely behind you both.

“What— “ 

“What do you think of gojo?” 

A burning sensation hits you slowly as shoko’s question registers in your mind.

You ears turn red. 

“Eh…um h-he’s a nice guy. A nice musician…and—”

“And?” Shoko wiggled her brows at you, a sly smile on her face. 

“A-a nice friend.” 

“Just a friend?” You nod at her, seemingly more embarrassed at her implications. 

Shoko's face literally radiated disappointment. It was as if someone told her that cigarettes are now banned in the country. “I think he's interested in you,” you choked on air at her remark. “No?” 

Yura shrugged. 

The music slowed down and then paused, bringing your conversation to a momentary halt. 

Satoru rushed outside, complaining about why you left in the middle of his practice.

“Bruh, chill, I'm not trying to steal her away from you. We're just talking!” Shoko jokes as you laugh all flustered. 

Just when you were about to leave one of his fangirls suddenly appeared from nowhere and threw herself into his arms, wrapping hers tightly around his neck. He stumbled back a step, surprised, before regaining his balance but he didn't put her down rather he spinned her around before setting her back down, with a polite smile on his face. 

The other members just saw the scene unfold with amusement. Nanami was surprised at the fan’s boldness and geto simply observed the scene as shoko rolled her eyes, finding it hysterical.

“What do you think of shoko’s remark?” said yura, looping her hand around your arm. 

“What?” You say suppressing the slow tinge of jealousy. 

“About gojo being interested in you…” 

“I-i don't think so.” 

You try to laugh it off.

“Yeah, he's just polite. To pretty much everyone.” 

Her words felt like a splinter to your heart. You shouldn't feel like this. It'd happened before— not now again. 

Yura’s right, satoru is just polite and will do the same for everyone what he does for you— because he's kind. And you're no special.

The entire ride was silent. Satoru kept asking you if anything was wrong but you just guised a smile at him, insisting it was nothing.

The next day at the gallery event, you behaved oddly. You smiled at him but  didn't reach your eyes, your answers to his question were of one word, even avoiding his touch. 

“Did I do something wrong?” he asked warily.

“No.” 

Days passed by and you distanced yourself more from him. 

Satoru, on the other hand, was almost losing his mind. His world turned upside down. You stopped coming to his concerts, ignored his texts and even refused to let him drop you back home. 

It was yesterday you’d allowed him to teach you the guitar yet today you behaved as if you'd long forgotten him. You were cold and distant, leaving him puzzled by his own thoughts upon your sudden change in demeanor. 

He couldn't help but wonder whether he'd done something that made you this upset? 

You'd said it was nothing.

Then why?

What the fuck did he messed up?

Satoru missed you terribly and violently.

He eyed you from the inside of his car parked a bit far from your department. Today was another day you refused his offer to drive you to class. ‘I'm kinda sick so I won't be going.’ This was what you'd texted him the morning and yet there you were getting off your uber. 

You lied to him. 

“Come with me to their concert today.” Shoko urged you, her lips pursed in a thin line. 

“I'm sorry—”

“No you're not so sorry. Tomorrow’s Saturday, come with me, gojo’s getting mad without you.”

You suck in a breath at the mention of his name.

“What's wrong?” shoko says sipping the last of her drink before plopping it on your tea table. 

“Nothing.” 

“Then come.”

You agreed eventually. Attending the concert won't be a big deal. 

And it wasn't, except for satoru’s piercing gaze burning holes in your back. You accompanied Shoko backstage and casually greeted everyone— including him. 

“God, haven't seen you in so long.” geto side hugged you as nanami gave you a nod of acknowledgement before running off to the stage for some last minute preparations. “Satoru missed you like crazy.” 

You attempt a weak smile in satoru's direction, darting a hesitant glance his way. His gaze was fixed on you, but his expression was unreadable, almost giving shivers down your spine. 

One of the other members suddenly hurried over to Geto, urgently speaking about some issue, he politely excused himself and exited the room, closely followed by Shoko. Now, you were left alone with Satoru, the only two remaining in the room. 

“I should go and check what's the proble—” you try sprinting your way out the door, “wait—” when satoru stops you. 

His hand on your arm, preventing you to go any further and when you struggle to get out of his grip, he tightens his grip even more slamming you to the wall,  pinning you caging your body. 

“What's wrong with you?” 

“Gojo you're hurting m—” 

“Gojo?” His voice cracked, grip losing before letting your arms go, “why? Why must you do this to me?” 

“Do what?” You drift your gaze away unable to look at satoru, who's this close tearing up.

“This— why must you do this? Why must you ignore me? Why must you be distant from me? Why must you lie to me so that I won't bother picking you up or dropping you home? Why must you reject my affection?” He sucks in a breath “You know I can't live like that—” 

“why?” 

“Don't pretend like you don't know…” 

“no no don't say it,” you throw your hands up in the air frantically, “don't— I can’t fall again…no— I know you're just being polite and you will do this for anyone, but I can’t help it if I don't—”

“I love you—” he whispers, bringing your hand up, placing the palm flat to his chest.

“No you don't.” 

“Yes I do— what do you mean you can't fall again,” he suppresses your struggles of wrenching free your hand from his grip. “You have no idea how crazy I'm for you. I love you and I've loved you since I was 17. I was about to confess to you on our graduation day but you just disappeared leaving me alone. And now that I have you I'm not letting you go— make no mistake baby, if there's anyone I’d ever kneel for— it'd be you.” 

Thick silence covered the entire room, except your heavy exhales. Satoru gojo was inches close to you, your hand still laid flat against his heaving chest. 

“B-but I wrote you a note confes—” 

“What note? I never….” confusion twisted on his face bitterly. 

“You threw it in the dustbin— the one I wrote to you the day before graduation.”

His face told the truth, as he shook his head denying it. He never received any note from you— nevertheless having the audacity to throw it in the trash when he'd been hopelessly in love with you all these years.

“Yura told me—” you shut your mouth as the realization hits you. The person whom you considered as a friend backstabbed you long ago. 

She lied about him discarding it while it was actually her who had stolen it off his desk before satoru even noticed.

Your head raised in embarrassment, ready to apologize for the misunderstanding when suddenly, Satoru's lips met yours in a tender kiss. The kiss was filled with such affection and tenderness that you felt as if you might melt in his embrace. His arms held you close, firmly yet gently, as he deepened the kiss. Your heart pounded in your chest as you responded to his kiss. All thoughts of the misunderstanding were forgotten in that moment of pure intimacy before satoru pulled away with frowned brows and a dazed smile. 

“Tell me, would I kiss anyone the same way I kiss you?” he pulled you again, smacking his lips on yours as he snaked a hand around your waist, the other, still firm, holding your palm. 

You could feel his heartbeat going rapid the more he deepens the kiss, sucking on your upper lip. 

He pulls away again.

“Tell me, would my heart beat the same way as it beats around yours?” He smacks his lips again, this time pinching your waist making you gasp as he slips his tongue in.

His hand fumbles with the hem of your dress, pulling away again, a string of drool connecting both of your lips. “Would I be breathless the same way as I'm now?” 

His hand travels up your inner thigh, till it reaches the wet blotch of drenched silk. You grasp his shoulders, when he starts drawing circles over the fabric, smirking before nuzzling his face on the crook of your neck. 

“Satoru, what if someone walks in—” your body jolts, nails digging into his back as he pulls the fabric to the side, plunging a digit in without any warning. “Let them…” he goes back to sucking your skin while rubbing his thumb over your swollen clit. 

Your teeth sank on your bottom lips, his finger slowly plunging in and out of you. “Nngh ‘toru, you’re—” small trembles quivered through your body as he plunged with a faster rhythm. 

“Shh baby! Let me take you” he inserts another digit as your teeth dug even deeper into your lip, stretching you and filling you so well. 

He was stroking you, curling his fingers inside until hitting your most sensitive spot. Sweat beaded your forehead as your trembles gave way to full body shudders, shutting your mouth with your hand not wanting to be loud. 

Satoru drew himself back from your neck, satisfied marking and suckling, withdrawing his digits, slick from you as you wince at the loss of his fullness. 

He brings them up and sucks your essence off his fingers with a pop. “I want to eat you out.” 

Before even you can make out his words he kneels down bunching up the fabric to your hips pulling your panty down properly and latching onto your swollen clit. 

“Fuck ‘toru.” he lapped his tongue on your clit, drawing circles, tasting your sweet before drawing himself back, “I am fucking you baby.” He says, licking a fat stripe on your vulva, his rigid tongue swiping back and forth over your clit sending sensations that make your body jolt. “Here and raw” he hummed against your pussy, his breath warm and hot sending vibrations to your core, before vacuuming on your clit. 

Your hand grasping his hair, as he worked on your orgasm.

He plunged his digits again, rhythmatic with the little pants escaping your mouth, along with the slick sounds of your hips buckling down his fingers. 

He smirked internally at your enthusiasm.

“So fucking nasty for me huh?” He said against your pussy, licking and sucking till you were nothing but withering in mindless pleasure. You were taking it well, suppressing your moans into breathless pants until he sucked, fingers pressing the most sensitive spot inside you. 

A shriek fell past your lips, knees buckling, followed by a string of moans and whimpers. “Oh— fuck..” you try closing your thighs which he prevents with his iron grip of one hand, forcing it open till he has better access. “Don't even dare closing on me…” 

The wet sounds of his fingers, plunging in and out of your gummy walls, echoed throughout the empty room.

Something coiled hot and fuzzy in the lower pit of your stomach. You clenched hard around his finger, when the bass-heavy beats of the band's concert began, causing you to involuntarily shove satoru’s face deeper into your cunt as you heard voices from the stage outside. 

Geto's unmistakable voice rang out, accompanied by the heavy drumming of nanami. They had started performing without satoru. 

“Nn’toru they start—” your voice died down into a breathless gasp as you felt your pelvic muscles clench, tension looping around your entire body as fiery sensations erupted. You arch your back against the wall, unable to stop your toes curling at the intensity of his tongue lapping, finger fuckin' you, as your vision gets blurry. 

“Yeah…cum for me baby” his velvety murmurs were all it took for you to turn into a mess of sensations, your body erupting as your high came down bursting, dripping and spilling down your thighs, his chin and his neck. 

Satoru lapped up the drops carelessly strewn about your skin, his tongue tracing a path along the droplets splattered on your inner thighs as he savored everything with anticipation.

“Tell me, would I kneel infront of anyone and let them cum this hard on my fingers?” He straightened himself up, “and then drink it up like a pussy drunk male whore?” his gaze never left yours, wiping the leftover slick from his chin with the back of his hand before licking it clean.

The music from outside has now gained its intensity, thrumming even louder.

No— you mouthed. 

Satoru’s gaze was still fixed at you, when he unzipped his pants, his aching cock sprang out red, already leaking precum. 

You gape at his girth. 

It was big.

And fucking thick. 

Leaning in, Satoru brings his lips close to your ear, his voice clear over the blaring music from outside, “Like what you see—”

You didn't get to answer him before he slammed right in. 

A cry of pleasure tore from your throat, as you loop your hands around his neck, nails digging on his back.

He hissed out a breath, restraining himself from moving till you adjusted to his size. 

Only then did he slowly pull it out leaving only the tip inside. You grimace at the loss of fullness until he slams back in causing you to clench around him. 

He let out a low guttural moan which was almost inaudible to you over the roar of music if you weren't so close to each other, feeling the raw desire of his voice vibrating on your skin.

“Tell me— hahh- would I let anyone clench this hard on me if this weren't you?” 

You were at a loss for words. 

The kind, polite, sweet satoru you knew was gone. In his place was someone who fucked hard. 

When you don't answer he pulls out and slams right back in harsh, eyes gleaming with wicked intent. 

Satisfied, satoru guides his one hand to tapping on your thigh suggesting you wrap your legs up around him. 

He repositions his dick on your entrance, before supporting your weight with one hand, pinning your body completely to the wall, while the other hand grabs your neck, choking you before giving you a sloppy breathless kiss. 

“You like it don't ya’ hmm fuck— so tight—” 

Your cries came out choked as he pounded into you, in an insane manner, desperate and primal.

“Tell me—” 

Thrust 

“do you—” 

Thrust 

“still think I'm just being polite?”

Thrust.

The roar of geto's voice singing out aloud different notes masked out the filth of your moans. 

The sensation was in again, hot and uproar, coiling beneath the core of your consciousness. Satoru sensed you being close to your climax, continued to plow into your pussy, now supporting your weight with both hands against the wall. 

Your toes curled again, nails digging down his back almost scratching the fabric, “yes that's it love,” your eyes rolled back as you arch your neck unable to handle the pleasure, “cum for me…” 

Your mouth forming a little ‘o’, mind blank as your eyes saw stars. The only consciousness left in your body directed you to the burning of your heat, till it came crashing down.

You came hard letting your head fall on his shoulders too spent for anything.

Satoru too chased his high, thrusting into your swollen pussy, his cock twitching inside you, till you felt him getting sloppy and tense before cumming into you.

The music was still very loud, beats thrumming your flushed veins. 

None of you said anything, remaining in the same position. Satoru pulled himself out, his cum dripping out your vagina, before walking over and placing you on a nearby chair. 

He cleaned you up gently tugging your clothes back and fixes himself before cleaning the mess near the wall. 

“They— they started performing without you…” you huff out, drained still in the very euphoria of your pleasure satoru showed you. 

“I told them to do so…” he shouted over the noise. 

You remain stunned for a while, letting out a breath. “I'm sorry…I avoided you.” 

“Here I thought you were giving me a thousand kisses as an apology.” 

You chuckle at him, back to his normal self— your sweet, kind and maybe not so polite satoru…

He came over to you, lifting you effortlessly before plopping himself down on the chair with you on his lap. 

“I missed you.” 

“I missed you too.” 

“No but I missed you like crazy…” he pouted. “y/n be my girlfriend…please.” 

Tears start forming in your eyes, overwhelmed, you never thought the satoru gojo you met at the mall, the satoru gojo you loved your entire high school would someday ask you to be his girlfriend.

To paint his heart with your love.

“I will.” 

“no wait— marry me instead!”

You dug your face deeper into his chest, laughing at his playfulness. And satoru just smiled.

Finally he would be yours. 

you and Satoru started dating since then and things couldn't have been any better for him. He practically announced to the world that you were his girlfriend, always picking you up and dropping you off from campus, and claiming a kiss as his reward. You’d also cut Yura off, not wanting any more negativity in your life. Satoru was yours, and you were his. And He couldn't be any happier.

Tags: @cccandynecklaces @secretfankoala

© strawberrymochin 24 | plagiarism won't be tolerated |

[utvarpcity]

just saw a neat little trio of sweden’s best bands live

[solelifauna]

Yandere Batfam & Neglected Reader Prt. 2

Okay, so I didn't realize how much building I was gonna do around (Y/n's) social life so this chapter is honestly about knowing (y/n). Anyways, the next chapter will be from the batfam's pov and focus more on the yandere bits! Hope you enjoy this chapter tho!

Tag List!: @sitepathos @ferakillia @uknowimdumb @shycreatorreview @niggrrooo @dhanyasri @cantfindmelol @space1crow @earth-to-mee @rosecentury @yuyuzi-ling @simpingfor-wakasa @bat1212 @sheepintherain @person-from-daaaa-voidddd @resident-cryptid @cupids-pretty-boy @danni1323

The change started slowly on a normal evening, an evening like every other. It was a football season game day, the big match between the Gotham City High Bats and the Gotham Prep Knights. For the rich prep kids, this was nothing more than another game, but for your school, this game was everything. This would help your school get the recognition and funding it deserves, and allow some students to be scouted and rewarded for their talent.

Not only that, but Gotham Prep always, every season goes to state, beating out all the other public schools in the city. They haven’t lost a game since the early 80s so there was a lot riding on this game. 

Your role, funnily enough, was representing the school as one of the Gotham City High school cheerleaders. Turns out that the gymnastics classes you took before were actually useful for purposes other than trying to impress Dick. You surprisingly took to cheerleading like a fish to water, liking the competitiveness and sense of belonging that came from joining the team. 

Anyways, you, the cheer team, and the football team were on a bus headed towards the bigger, better Gotham Prep football field. The bus was loud with music and schoolmates hyping each other up for the big game. Ethan, a friend of yours on the football team was nervously shaking his leg and squeezing his helmet so hard you thought it would crack.

Both you and your friend Arya noticed.

“Ethan, the game hasn’t even started yet and I already see a crack forming on your helmet.” You said jokingly, a gentle arm on his shoulder.

He startled, “Jesus Christ (Y/n) warn a guy next time.” Ethan spoke, offering a nervous smile.

“You need to stop freaking out bro. When you do, it freaks out the others on the team.” Arya gently said.

“I know, I know but— but there’s just a lot riding on this game. For a lot of us, this is our only way to get out of Gotham, and if we screw up the finals, we’ll be stuck here forever.” Ethan said solemnly, looking around at all his teammates.

“Well then good thing you guys aren’t gonna lose. Y’all have spent two years training to make this comeback, to make sure that Gotham City High finally gets this win. I promise you’ve worked harder than those assholes at Gotham Prep, so just go out there and put your training to use. Don’t let your nerves get to you, you have no reason to.” You calmly said.

“Yeah—yeah, we have trained harder, haven't we? Yeah, you’re right! We've just gotta go out there and play like we've practiced.” Ethan exclaimed, as if suddenly realizing why he should have confidence in himself and his team.

“Exactly!” Arya said, matching his enthusiasm and hitting Ethan playfully on the shoulder. 

The rest of the bus ride to the stadium was louder than ever, the coach and other teammates taking turns to hype up the more nervous members, to get them confident for the field. Everything was about normal once everyone made it to the stadium. The band was set up, and people were flooding the bleachers. It wasn’t until the last ten minutes before the game when normalcy died.

“Hey (Y/n), isn’t that your family?” A girl, Maya, says.

Lo’ and behold, Bruce Wayne and his entire gaggle of children were sitting on the home side of the bleachers, sporting Gotham Prep t-shirts. 

“What—oh, you’ve got to be fucking kidding me. What the hell are they doing here, they don’t even like football like that!?” You shout in frustration.

It was then when you remembered a conversation Dick, Bruce, and Damian had at the dinner table. Something about how it would help Damian out if he started going to school events and games, getting him acclimated to what being a normal teenager was like. That was all fine and dandy, but you didn't think the entire damn family was going to show up. Oh, the gossip columns are gonna have a field day with this. You could already imagine the headlines, “Bruce Wayne openly isolates daughter (Y/n) Wayne” or even, “The Wayne Family once again publicly shows dislike for daughter (Y/n) Wayne.”

You rolled your eyes at the thought, you had bigger things to worry about right now.

“Are you good (Y/n)?” Arya questions softly. 

She was one of the only people who you spoke your sorrows to, one of the only people who actually knows of just how lonely you were. Of course everyone knew that Bruce Wayne and his family didn't really like you very much– thank you Vicky vale– but nobody but Arya and Ethan really understood the crux of your situation. 

“Yeah, I'm all good bro, don't worry about it. Just focus on the game.” You said dismissively. It didn't bother you anymore, sure it hurt a little bit, but this was expected.

“Alright, its time to shake hands with the other team, everyone line up!” the football Coach, Coach Daniels, all but yelled.

You sighed, moving to the front of the line for the cheerleaders; you were team captain after all. Both the football teams and cheerleaders made their way to the center of the field where they met. You looked back at the rest of your team, you all knew that this was going to be an unpleasant interaction, it always was. The Gotham Prep cheer captain walked up to you, disdain and poorly concealed disgust on her face. You all quickly shook hands, trying to get this exhausting ordeal done and over with, but of course the other captain had to open her mouth.

“You lower end city girls sure have your own sense of style.” Darla, which was basically code for calling you and your team sluts. Wow, how original.

“You should see what’s underneath the jacket.” You replied, giving her a sharp smile.

She floundered, clearly expecting her insult to rile you and your team up. 

“Ugh, as expected of Bruce Wayne’s biggest embarrassment. You sad Daddy doesn't like you? Or maybe she’s just glad she gets to mooch off of him before he ends up disowning her.” Another girl pipes up, drawing mind grating giggles from the rest of their team. You recognized her, she was the daughter of some hot-shot CEO.

You just tiredly look back at your team, a few of them getting angry on your behalf while others looked to you in concern. 

“What, not going to say anything?” The other captain haughtily questioned. 

“I mean, what exactly is the response you’re expecting? Yeah, Bruce Wayne doesn't like me, but at least I didn't have to buy my way into the cheer team or have my daddy pay to make sure I wasn't held back.” You stated boredly.

She was silent in shock, right before the anger came bursting through.

“You whore! I’m going to fuck you up, take you to court and sue you!” She shrieked.

“You’re going to sue me? You mean sue Bruce Wayne?” You snorted, “Like that’ll ever happen. And bitch, you couldn’t fight if your life depended on it, so next time you threaten me remember–I can and will beat the ever-loving shit outta you.”

That must have sparked some fear in her because she just turned around and led her team back to their side of the field. You’re sure others noticed your altercation, obviously having no idea what was being said, but it was clear to both sides of the field that nothing good was said. You’re ready to turn back to your side when you accidentally make eye contact with Tim. The cold, calculating look in his eyes has you shifting in discomfort, you quickly look away as the cheer team and football players head back to their respective sides.

The players took their place onto the field while your team got into formation.

“Aright guys, this’s the big one! Give it all you got, just like we practiced!” You yelled.

Just like that, the whistle blew signaling that the game started. 

By the time you reach half time, Gotham Prep is fifteen points ahead of Gotham High. Your school does its low budget halftime performance which pales in comparison to the extravagant Gotham Prep performance. Your side of the stadium grows louder, louder in support of the football team. Before you know it, the boys are lining up for the second half of the game. Thankfully, Gotham High shoots up in points, the score now becoming 34 to 29. The issue is, the game is starting to come to an end with only two minutes on the clock. The crowd is loud, but everyone knows it'll be damn near impossible for Gotham High to win now. The only way to win would be to score a touch-down, which would bring Gotham High to 35 points.

It isn't until the 36 second mark when Ethan sees an opening and makes a run for it with the ball. The crowd is booming, your own voice adding to the mix of cheers and shouts. 

“Come on Ethan! Come on!” You yell, voice undoubtedly hoarse.

There's 5 seconds on the clock when Ethan dives over an opposing player and rolls into the other team's touchdown zone. The score board changes, the numbers now showcasing 34 to 35. Gotham City High with 35. Everyone goes crazy. You and Arya are holding each other jumping up and down. Holy shit, yall won! The football team was celebrating on the field, as they’re announced as the winners, a big trophy being handed into Ethan and his team's hands. And by tradition, you, Arya and the coach go grab the large gatorade barrel and proceed to soak the football team with it. There are yelps and laughs but everyone knows what it means, it means “you’ve won”. You and Arya run up to Ethan launching into him, uncaring of the gatorade now soaking your uniforms. 

It was a good day, a happy day. Everyone started loading up into the buses, starving for the victory dinner at Taco Bell. You honestly, truly forget that the Bats were even here. Shit hits the fan however, when you're in the middle of messing up a chalupa and Bruce Wayne and the rest of his brood walk in, making awkward eye contact with you. You promptly proceed to choke, Arya hitting your back to get you to stop. You do, but holy shit was that embarrassing. Also, what in the ever-loving fuck were they doing here!? 

Before you could voice your utter disbelief, another familiar face barrels into your table. Oh great.

“Hey ladies, how’d you like the game? Betcha I looked good on the field.” The voice of Adrien, a freshman player on the team, made itself known. 

He even made it a point to flex his arm muscles, hoping to impress you and Arya. You both just looked at each other before bursting out laughing. This poor freshman has been trying to get with y'all all year, despite you and Arya being sophomores. His god-awful attempts at flirting were absolutely adorable and downright hilarious. 

“Guys please don't laugh, I promise I have better pick up lines.” he begs, his demeanor that of a kicked puppy.

“I'm sorry man, you're just too adorable, we can't take you seriously.” Arya says amused.

“Why don't you go talk to one of the freshman cheerleaders? I'm sure I heard Hiba and Darla talking about how good you did on the field.” You pipped in.

“No way! Are you serious!? Oh-uh, gotta blast ladies! See ‘ya around!” Adrien stutters, excitedly scrambling off to go find the girls you mentioned.

You and Arya broke off again into a fit of laughter.

“Were you guys teasing Adrien again?” Comes a lighthearted scold from Ethan.

“Not anymore than usual. Plus, I think we finally got him to pursue girls in his own grade.” You responded, a smug smile on your face.

Ethan just chuckled before sitting down with you and Arya. You all talked and laughed some more, your mood only being slightly soured by the Wayne family’s presence at the table across from yours. You did your best to avoid their not-so-casual glances in your direction. Why they were here is a can of worms you had to marinate on later. But for now, you'd just enjoy the rest of your night.

It didn't take long before everyone started getting ready to leave. Some students had their parents come pick them up, probably to go celebrate the school's victory with their families, whilst everyone else was getting ready to load back up into the buses and head to the school where parents would be waiting for their kids. You, however, would be biking back to the manor on your own. Sure both Arya’s and Ethan’s parents had offered you a ride, but you had declined. There was no need for them to go out of their way for you, especially when they should be spending their time celebrating with their children. You’d honestly just ruin the mood with your shitty circumstances.

So as you threw away the last of your trash and started walking to leave the restaurant, you were not expecting to be stopped, let alone stopped by Bruce Wayne. You froze, not knowing what to do. What did he want?

“(Y/n),” He started, voice lacking any tell-tale emotions, “no need to get on the bus, you’ll be riding home with us.”

You noticed immediately how he didn't really give you a choice, just an order meant to be followed. You swallowed nervously, you did not, under any circumstances want to be in a car with any of them.

“There's no need for that Bruce, I–um actually left my bike back at the school and I can't just leave it there so…yeah. I’ll–I'll see you back at the manor.” You said nervously. You weren't used to talking to him and to be quite frank he scared you.

Bruce of course took note of the fact you had not called him “dad” or “father” and had called home, “the manor” instead. This is when Dick decided to chime in.

“What, you're not going to bike all the way back home, are you?” Dick jested sarcastically.

“Uh, yeah? It's how I get back home everyday.” You mention abashed. Did they seriously not even know how you got home? Whatever, you’re too tired for this.

Bruce and Dick glance at each other, their shared look holding a meaning you couldn't understand.

“Well, it doesn't matter. You’ll just ride home with us from now on.” Dick stated, faux cheer in his voice. 

“Wha–what? Hold up, I can’t just leave without my bike! It’s gonna get stolen or–”

“We’ll get a new one, now stop fussin' and get a move on,” Jason grumbles, cutting you off.

You just sigh in defeat. Why the hell are they doing this? Why now? In the end, your questions don't matter as you get marched over to the waiting Rolce Royce Limo. That was when Arya and Ethan noticed you walking away from the bus, not even noticing the Waynes in their hurry to catch up to you.

“Hey (Y/n), why are ‘ya–oh.” Arya yells out before going silent after noticing the intimidating figure of Bruce Wayne and the even more intimidating figure of Jason Todd.

“Oh, hey guys. So–uh, I actually have a ride back to the manor now so I'm all good.” You say awkwardly.

“That's–that's great! But, what about your bike bro?” Ethan questions worriedly, the awkward and almost tense energy affecting him.

“I'm just going to pray and hope that it's still there when I come back for it tomorrow.”You answer tiredly.

“Damn, well, get home safe and get some sleep. We’ll see you soon girl.” Arya says, hugging you.

You hug her back.

“You too guys, get home safe. And Ethan, good job on the field bro, we’re all super proud of you.” You voice, a small smile on your face while you give him a hug.

“Thanks (Y/n), couldn't have done it without y’all hyping me up.” He says.

“Alright, alright no more sappy, corny lines. Now get on the bus before Coach Daniels pops another blood vessel.” You joke.

“Shit, I didn't even realize that was him yelling! Ethan, we gotta go! See ya (Y/n).” Arya exclaims, practically dragging Ethan to the bus with her.

You wave at them, your smile slowly disappearing as you realize you're about to have the worst fifteen minutes of your life on this car ride. The staring you were trying to ignore when talking to your friends was more prevalent now, making you anxious as you entered the car, squirming and fiddling uncomfortably in your seat as everyone else piled in.

You internally sighed as you heard the door shut and the car engine start. Perhaps it’d be better if you drank acid and died instead, but alas, it was too late for any of that. 

You’d just do your best to stay quiet and avoid the eyes boring into your very being.

[hellfirenacht]

Candygram

Summary: It's Valentine's day and you shoot your shot with Eddie by sending him a Candygram.

Tags: Eddie Munson x Reader, fluff, sfw

4.8k Words Master List

“Just do it.”  Robin said, following your line of sight to the booth in the corner of the Hawkins cafeteria. It was a simple table with a red cloth thrown over it and a handmade banner that read ‘CANDYGRAMS $1’ and was decorated with tacky hearts. 

Every time you glanced over at the booth, your heart would start pounding and your stomach would twist in knots. You had never considered yourself to be shy before, when you first moved to Hawkins a few years ago, Robin had joked that you didn’t need a welcome wagon because you had thrown yourself into band and had introduced yourself to everyone with ease. 

You had masked your anxiety over being the new kid with an overinflated sense of confidence and it had worked out really well for you until you caught feelings for the freak who sat next to you in remedial science. 

“I think... I would rather chug formaldehyde.” you said slowly, staring so hard at the offensively pink and red booth that Robin was sure it was going to catch flames. 

“Either go up there and buy a candygram or I’m going to do it for you.” Robin said. “If I have to hear you waffle about this for one more day I’m gonna rip my hair out.” 

“But if I send him one, then he might actually acknowledge me and realize I might have something resembling a feeling for him, and that’s just not really cool, you know? Goes against my chill and mysterious personality.” you said, leaning back on your chair with a cocky grin. 

“Last night I saw you and Steve cry over Bambi.” Robin deadpans. 

“Okay, so we were drunk and also shut up.” you snorted, rubbing your face. 

“How are you going to know if there’s anything there if you don’t even take the chance?” Robin scolds. “Come one, I’ve seen the way you look at him. I’m surprised the whole school doesn’t know-”

“Again, cool and mysterious personality.” you tried again. 

“Plus I know he’s just as weird as you.” Robin continued, ignoring you. “I mean, last week I saw him get Jason Carver to back off one of the freshmen by pretending to exercise a demon out of him!”

You stared at Robin for a beat before thunking your head on the lunch table. “I’m going to marry him. Holy shit, he actually tried to expel the demon lurking in Carver?” You were laughing at the thought. 

During your first senior year and his second, Eddie Munson had caught your eye when you had the same lunch period. He was loud and energetic and so fucking weird you couldn’t help but to be drawn to him. Had your parents not forced you to stick with band, you would have considered joining Hellfire. Unfortunately even with this last go-round as a super senior, they still made you stick with it despite your senioritis reaching terminal levels.

You never had a good opportunity to talk to him, and the more time passed the harder it became to justify just randomly approaching him. This semester you finally had your opportunity when you’d been put in the same class and sitting next to each other no less. Still, the most you’d been able to say was “yeah, sure” when he’d asked you for a pencil once. 

Four weeks sitting next to Eddie, and you had barely spoken to him while noticing every little thing about him. He read a lot in class when he could get away with it, and doodled in his notebooks constantly, especially dice and dragons seemed to be the biggest theme. His school notebook wasn’t nearly as filled in as his Hellfire notebook, and he was always fidgeting in class. He also didn’t talk much, and at least once a week he’d end up falling asleep in class with his head in his hand. 

“There’s not gonna be a wedding if you can’t even talk to the guy.” Robin said. “He’s not even scary! Dustin comes in to talk to Steve all the time about Hellfire. He’s just a dork.”

“I know and that’s the problem.” your voice was a strangled laugh mixed with a groan. 

“You showed up the first day of band and introduced yourself to everyone, even if they weren’t in your section. What is the hold up with you talking to Eddie?” Robin pried. 

“Because back then, it didn’t matter.” You looked over at Robin, poking at your mystery meat. “When I first got here it didn’t matter if anyone liked me or not. I was only supposed to be in this school for a few months and then graduate. Then I didn’t. I could handle it if someone didn’t like me. None of you were really supposed to matter to me. No offense.”

Thankfully, Robin didn’t seem offended. “You were just making nice with the inmates until parole.” she joked and you nodded. 

“Yup, and then when I realized that I was going to have to actually have a full other year of school, that meant that I was going to have to care if I was ever gonna graduate.” You continued. “Luckily you saw through all my bullshit bravado and started dragging me to movie nights with you and Steve.” 

“Yeah yeah, we love friendship. So what does any of this have to do with Eddie?” Robin said, not needing you to explain the backstory that she had been present for. 

“It means that with Mr. Munson, I unfortunately, care so fucking much what he thinks of me.” you relented. “He’s the biggest freak in school, and the dorkiest loser, and if I try and talk to him and he’s not interested in talking back I won’t be able to take it. Robin, I will simply lay down and be dead for the rest of my life.”

“That’s not how that works, you can’t be dead for the rest of your life.” She shook her head, her brows furrowed. “Because if you’re dead then... you’re not alive”

“Schrodinger's corpse then. Alive and dead at the same time.” 

“Look, just send him the stupid candygram. The worst he can do is say no.” She stood up from the table and grabbed your hand. “Let’s go.”

And that’s how you ended up at the booth, jotting down Eddie’s name on a piece of paper and shoving a few quarters in the till with Robin looking smug. “I doubt he’s ever gotten one anyway, if anything he should be thrilled that someone wanted to send him one.”

“If this kills me, Steve’s in charge of the music at my funeral.” you sighed. 

---

Candygrams were being handed out and delivered through the week. You weren’t paying attention to what period they were supposed to be handed out, and so when two students in obnoxious heart shirts and fake wings burst into your science class with Eddie right next to you, you were about ready to throw yourself out a window. 

No one was surprised when Janet and Charlie were tossed a few candygrams, but everyone’s head whipped around when the red heart shaped lollipop and card was set on Eddie Munson’s desk. Eddie himself seemed more surprised than anyone. 

He had the lollipop in his mouth before he even opened the note attached and you were seconds away from bolting out the door. With any luck, maybe he didn’t know your name even after weeks of sitting next to each other. 

“Who’s it from, freak?” asked Patrick, the basketball jock who sat a few rows ahead. That earned a few snickers from the class. 

“It’s from your mom.” Eddie said without missing a beat and taking out the lollipop. “Tell her I say thanks.”

More laughter from the class as Patrick stood up as if ready to fight, but the teacher quickly told him to sit down. 

Shit, this wasn’t supposed to happen. You felt a bit guilty that your candygram had kicked up a fuss, but at least Eddie didn’t out you as the person who sent it to him. In fact he wasn’t looking over at you at all. 

You watched him out of the corner of your eye as he flipped the card around, as if looking for something. All that was written was his name and “YOU’RE SWEET!” written in cheesy font and his name scribbled in your handwriting. 

And nothing else. 

You didn’t know if you should laugh or cry at your stupidity. You’d been so jumbled and nervous that you’d forgotten to sign the damn thing. Robin was gonna have a field day with this one. 

Eddie kept fidgeting with the card through the rest of class, twisting it and bending it until it was as crumpled and torn as your heart felt. He shoved it in his pocket and didn’t even glance at you as the bell rang and he stood up and tossed the eaten lollipop stick in the trash. 

It’s not personal. You told yourself. He has no idea who sent it to him.

That’s when you had a horrible idea, so stupid it might actually work. 

---

“Explain how this is going to work again?” Robin asked. “You’re going to keep sending him lollipops this week until he notices you?” 

“Sort of.” you said, buying another candygram. “I’ll just send him a few joke ones as a feeler and if he responds positively I’ll come clean. If not, I keep my dignity. It’s a win-win.”

“Since when do you care about your dignity?” Robin sorted. 

“Since I caught feelings for the least dignified guy in school, I guess.” You knew it was stupid, you knew it was ridiculous, but you already messed up once so you might as well lean into it. You scribbled his name down, this time signing it with a satisfied giggle. “This is so dumb.”

Oh, but it was so worth it. You had bought it before school started, guaranteeing that it’d be delivered the same day, handing over a crisp dollar to Nancy Wheeler who had volunteered for the booth. If Eddie had been surprised the first time, he looked almost shocked now.

Eddie, sorry I forgot to sign the first one! This card said, once again not giving away any sign of who it was actually from. You saw his eye sparkle in amusement as he ate his lollipop, and this time the card was read over a few times before being carefully tucked into his dungeon master notebook. 

By the third day, the novelty of Eddie Munson getting candygrams had worn off with the rest of your class, but Eddie’s grin only grew wider each time. 

“Anything for me, Cupid?” Eddie asked as the student council members walked back in to hand out more lollipops. 

He whooped as another one was dropped on his desk and he snatched up the card quickly and you had to cover your face and bite your lip to stop yourself from giggling at his excitement. 

Eddie, sorry I’m so bad at remembering to sign these things! I just get way too excited about sending them out that I lose focus. So anyway this card is actually from-

You had carefully spaced out your writing on the small rectangle of paper so that it left absolutely no room for you to sign your name. Eddie looked downright giddy as he read the note over and over. Seeing him so happy made your stomach burst into butterflies and even if he decided after this he wasn’t interested, this was enough. Knowing that he was smiling because of you was enough. 

Someone said your name and you looked up, surprised to see one of the student council members standing next to you and handing you a candygram. Your eyebrows shot up as you took it with a thanks and opened up the card. 

Who had sent one to you? You’d been so wrapped up in your little scheme you didn’t even consider that someone would try and send you one either. 

A smile tugged at your lips as you saw your name and a small drawing of what looked like an egg in a nest as the sender. Robin, of course. Probably making fun of you for sending candygrams to Eddie without signing either. 

You tucked the candygram in your own notebook safely and dared a glance over at Eddie again. You hadn’t expected for him to be looking back at you, and your heart jumped in your chest. He unwrapped his lollipop and lifted it slightly as if he was trying to toast. You held yours up as well to him, an off sense of camaraderie between two people who had their day temporarily disturbed for commercialized love. 

Thursday came around, Valentine's day proper, but they’d be doing one last day of candygrams on Friday as well. This was a fundraiser after all, and capitalism trumps any semblance of real sincerity. Well, you said that but that wasn’t exactly going to stop you from continuing your little plan. 

Today was the day you were going to pull out the big guns. You handed over a full $5 to have a carnation sent to Eddie, as well as a return to sender card to Robin for being a good friend. 

“Shouldn’t he be the one sending you a flower?” Nancy asked, handing you the card to write on. You wondered how Nancy had time for all of the extracurricular activities she had going on, working with the student council and the school newspaper. 

You just shrugged at the question, not realizing how wide you were smiling or how obviously warm your cheeks were. To anyone with two eyes, you were glowing and to anyone with one eye, you were phosphorescent. 

The disinterest that your classmates had from the last two rounds perked back up with a flower was delivered to Eddie that afternoon. 

“For little old me?” Eddie said, batting his eyelashes at the delivery boy as he took the carnation. You giggled to yourself as he opened the card again. 

Man, I’m bad at this aren’t I? Don’t worry, this time I’m writing very small so I have room to sign this card. Seeing you light up when these get delivered has made my whole week, and totally worth it. Anyway this is from- 

To be fair, you had actually signed your name this time. However this time you had made an attempt to erase it with one of those erasers. The horrible stiff ones that only made big smudges and made the mistake worse and nearly tore through the paper. You had carefully looked at your smudged signature for a long time before deciding it was illegible enough to send. 

Eddie faked a swoon in his seat, nearly toppling over onto the floor. “Come on!” he laughed, pushing himself back upright, smiling with his whole face. He looked over the note again, something clicking in his brain and you quickly looked down at the book you were currently pretending to read. 

“It’s someone in here.” you heard him mutter to himself and your heart started pounding in your chest. You focused on your breathing to try and stop yourself from giggling and giving yourself away. 

“Stop sending yourself stuff, Munson. It’s pathetic.” Patrick called out. 

“If you wanted me to be your Valentine, sweetheart, all you had to do was ask nicely.” Eddie said, but he sounded distracted as his eyes scanned the room for any hint of who this mysterious person is. “And next time, I’m more than happy with just the lollipop, it’s saving me on smokes.”

You didn’t even notice the lollipop on your desk until class had started back up. Unfolding the card you smiled to yourself, seeing that it was from Robin again. This time the egg in the nest had a crack in it and seemed to be hatching. You’d ask her about it later. 

Nothing said during the rest of class even registered with you, every word was in one ear and out the other. This had been a fun week sending Eddie all the lollipops and flowers but tomorrow was the last day to have something sent to him. 

Were you going to sign your name? That’s the million dollar question. You had told Robin that you would if Eddie seemed interested, and he had made it clear he was enjoying the attention. 

But would he still enjoy the attention if he learned it was from you? You two weren’t exactly friends, but not complete strangers either. He didn’t seem to dislike you, after all he’d raised a toast with you with your lollipops the other day. 

Well, if you were gonna put yourself out there, you were gonna do it on your own terms.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Robin said that Friday morning as you dropped a handful of ones on the table for one last hurrah. 

“Nope, I’ve committed.” you said, taking the small stack of cards and getting to work. 

“I’m going to have you committed.” Robin shook her head. “I mean, this is actually insane, you know that right? There’s no reason to go through all this trouble, when you could just talk to him.”

“Oh, but where’s the fun in that, Buckley?” you asked, as you added one letter of your name to each of the cards. “Gotta make him work for it.”

“So you’re gonna give him a Valentine's themed word jumble as your big sign off?” 

“Yup.” you confirmed, adding his name to each of the cards. He’d get them all in one go and then it’s up to him to unscramble your name and figure it out. 

After that... well, the ball is in his court. 

Besides, if he liked the lollipops enough that he’d reach for one instead of a cigarette then that’s good enough. 

“You’re such a weirdo. You deserve each other.” Robin went on. “The Weirdo and the Freak. It’s like Beauty and the Beast except.. Not.”

“Robin, don’t you know three languages?” you snorted finishing up your stack and handing them over to be sent. “You are so much smarter than me, but this is where you lose words?”

“It’s Friday and I haven’t had coffee.” she pointed out. “Oh, thanks for sending me one by the way.”

“Yeah, of course. I mean you sent me one so I wasn’t gonna leave you hanging.” you nudged her playfully. 

“I didn’t send you one.” Robin looked at you, confused. 

“What?” You reached into your backpack and pulled out the notebook where you had placed the card and handed it to her. “But that’s a robin’s egg...?”

“It’s an egg, probably.” Robin agreed. “But I’m broke. I didn’t send any out.” 

You stared at the card with new eyes. If she didn’t send it, then who did?

---

“Holy shit.” Eddie muttered as a bag of lollipops was dumped on his desk with no rhyme or reason, earning a round of laughter and snickers from the class. The teacher had long since given up on trying to keep the class’s attention when the Cupid’s showed up. 

He sorted through the cards, a puzzled expression on his face as he looked at the different letters on the cards until he found one that had real words on it. 

Figure it out, Sucker <3 Eddie’s face was a wonderful mixture of amusement, bewilderment, and mild offense. 

One of the Cupid’s handed you another two lollipops as well. One was actually signed by one of your friends in band, and the other had another doodle of an egg. This time the egg was completely hatched and there was some sort of weird bird flying off. 

Not a robin. You decided, trying to figure out what it was supposed to be. 

You barely paid attention in class for the rest of the hour, your attention split between the three egg Valentines you received and the man next to you. Eddie had pulled out his Dungeon Master notebook to try and decode your message. You felt flattered that he was using his favored notebook to try and figure out your puzzle. 

Eddie was sucking on one of the lollipops diligently as he scribbled down random letters. Now that you thought about it, you’d never seen him look so studious in class before. You wondered if this is what he looked like when he was working on his campaigns and your brain decided to give you a treat of a daydream where the two of you were sitting around in your room while he explained his campaign and how he’d love to have someone like you join Hellfire-

It was three minutes before the bell, and that meant just a few minutes until your last period and the weekend. With Valentine’s day falling in the middle of the week, most of your friends were going to be off doing things with their partners. Maybe you, Robin, and Steve- no wait, Steve actually got dates. Robin worked on the weekend. 

Maybe Eddie- NOPE. Not going there, you were not about to get your hopes up for this. 

You glanced over at him again, looking at his notebook to see if he was anywhere close to decoding your name. Eddie had the worst handwriting you’d ever seen and so you would be surprised if he could even figure out his own notes. Between unjumbling your letters, he had started doodling in the margins. You assumed that they were D&D monsters from the look of it, since none of them looked like actual animals except for the bats in the corner. 

The only other thing you recognized was a dragon, drawn in a larger scale on the side of the page. It’s wings were expanded and it was flying off, and from this angle it looked like a weird...

It looked like some bird

Some sort of weird bird

Your head snapped back down to the card in front of you. This wasn’t a weird bird. It was a dragon. A dragon hatching from an egg. An egg that hatched a dragon. A dragon that was drawn with the same pose as the one in Eddie’s notebook. Eddie’s notebook had your dragon no wait, your card had his dragon-

Eddie Munson had sent you the cards. 

Eddie had-

“Oh.” You said out loud. You were nearly fighting back hysterical laughter at this, and you pressed your hands against your face, with your shoulder shaking with repressed laughter. 

Why the hell had Eddie sent you those cards? The two of you had barely spoken to each other!

 You did the same damn thing, dipshit. You reminded yourself. In fact you had gone way harder than he had. But what did this MEAN? 

The bell rang and everyone scrambled to get out of the classroom, and before you could say anything, Eddie was off and running out of the classroom at the speed of light. 

What was that about?

Robin was right. If you were ever going to have a chance with him, you were going to suck it up and talk to him, even if it meant possibly embarrassing yourself. Plus, finding out why he sent you three candygrams was currently trumping any fear of rejection. Curiosity killed the cat, but at least he died satisfied. You’re pretty sure how that saying went at least. 

You knew that Eddie had Hellfire today, it was Friday and he and all of his friends had been running around in their club shirts. With a deep breath you...realized you had no idea where the hell they actually met. 

This whole thing could have been planned better, actually. 

You started walking around the school blindly for any sign of the signature baseball tee that they all wore. If you found one of them, they were sure to lead you to Eddie. God, you felt like a stalker. 

There. Long dark curls against a stark white shirt with black sleeves. Your heart leapt in your chest, and you had to make the choice now. 

“E... Eddie! Wait up!” you called out, walking quickly towards him. 

When he turned around to look at you, you felt the air disappear from your lungs. How was it possible for him to be so beautiful and why the fuck did no one in this school seem to notice? 

Eddie pulled the lollipop he’d been sucking on out of his mouth, surprised to see you. 

“Hey.” he said. “Uh... you sit next to me in class.” 

He was either playing dumb, or you were about to make an ass of yourself. But, like Robin asked, since when do you care about dignity?

You reached into your bag and pulled out the candygrams that had been sent to you and holding them out. 

To your relief he gave you a bashful smile. “Guess you caught me, huh?” he asked. “You solved my Valentine’s puzzle.” 

“I have a pretty high intelligence when I apply myself.” you said, which only made him grin wide. “But I gotta say, Munson. I’m actually a little disappointed. I mean, sadistic and scary dungeon master of the Hellfire club, and this is the best puzzle you could come up with?”

He crossed his arms and took a step towards you. “Well, I don’t know you as well as I’d like.” he said, and your stomach erupted into butterflies. “Had to start somewhere.” 

“I guess I had to be sneaky and pay attention to you to figure it out. You’re hard not to notice, you know.” you admitted, crossing your arms as well to mimic him. 

“Being The Freak means I fail most stealth checks.” he shrugged. 

“High charisma though.” you threw out there, hoping that line would land and to your delight it did.

“It’s the Munson Magic. I come by it naturally.” Eddie’s smile was so wide it was cheesy but shit, it was working on you. 

“Not great intelligence though.” you smirked at him. 

“Oh? And how do you figure that?” He looked a little offended now, and you saw his shoulder stiffen as if he was waiting for this to suddenly go south. 

“Spell my name, Eddie.” 

You could see the lightbulb go off in his mind and his eyes widened. 

“You- wait, you were the one who kept sending me the cards?” Eddie looked nothing short of bewildered and ecstatic. You had a feeling that if things went well, you wouldn’t have to worry about ever knowing what he was thinking as he wore every emotion on his sleeve. 

“Surprise?” you asked, playing with the strap of your backpack. 

Eddie licked his lips, chasing the last of the flavor of the sucker he’d been eating. He looked at you, as if searching for something, and you cut in before he had the chance to find it. 

“Do you want to hang out sometime?” you asked, a little louder than you meant to. “Like, just us.”

“Do you think you can handle a date with The Freak?” Eddie asked, standing a little straighter. “I’m sure you’ve heard the rumors, and I promise the worst of them are true.”

“Don’t threaten me with a good time, Eddie, I’ve always wanted to join Hellfire.” you smirked. “I’m sure there are worse things for a first date than sacrificing someone to Satan, or summoning demons, or joining a cult.”

“I’m a gentleman, I would never ask a lady to summon demons on the first date. That’s at least a third date activity.” Eddie held his hand to his heart and raised a hand as if making an oath. 

Oh yeah, you were going to marry him. You were already picturing proposing to him and taking him away from this town. 

“Then how about dinner at Benny’s?” you suggested. “Burgers and shakes on me and you can tell me more about Hellfire and dragons and I can give you a spelling lesson.”

Eddie ran his ringed fingers through his hair and you giggled as the rings got snagged and he struggled to untangle them. 

“It’s.. a date then.” he said, but it came out as more of a question, as if he was asking if this was really happening. 

“A date.” You agreed, handing him your number, having come prepared. 

As you began to walk away, he called out after you. 

“Wait! You said you wanted to check out Hellfire, right?” Eddie said and you turned to look at him. “I’m... I’m actually running a one shot tonight. Kind of beginner friendly enough. I don’t often do this in the middle of the semester but one of our usuals dropped out because he had a date so... we have an open seat at the table. If you think you can handle it.”

Your smile widened as you walked over to him. “I think I’ll take you up on that.”

Eddie offered his arm to you, as if he were a gentleman which you took eagerly. 

“So... how do you actually spell your name?” 

---

Dear Reader, I hope you have the easiest name to spell because that would make this fic at least 3% funnier. Also, I'm proud I got this done before Valentine's day because I never even finished my Halloween or Christmas fic. Be proud of me.

Please reblog if you enjoyed it <3

Tag List: @gagasbee, @ihaventgotaclue-really @tastefullyferal @anonymouskiwi @hellfiredarling

[lavenderangeltarot]

𝓌𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝑜𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓇𝓈' 𝒻𝒾𝓃𝒹 𝑒𝓃𝒸𝒽𝒶𝓃𝓉𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒶𝒷𝑜𝓊𝓉 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝒶𝓅𝓅𝑒𝒶𝓇𝒶𝓃𝒸𝑒 🪞🪷✩ // pick a card!

hey angels! 👼🏼 this will be a general pick a card reading on what people find enchanting about your appearance/how people view your appearance (physically & generally- usually these things naturally overlap). It's of course, not healthy to fixate on these things, however I think it can be uplifting to hear the nice things people might've thought of us. It's natural to be a bit curious! Pick the image you're most drawn to, proceed to your reading & take what resonates! If you're interested in a personal reading from me, check out my Etsy Store :) // https://www.etsy.com/shop/LavenderAngelTarot

#1 #2 #3

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#1 - the Moon, Page of Swords & Knight of Wands 🌙

With the Moon card coming out first, I see people being heavily captivated by a sense of mystery surrounding you- you come across as introverted or at least, initially reserved. In your presence people are not so sure what you are thinking, but your demeanour remains peaceful and possibly very feminine. Dreamy & vaguely moody too, but with the Moon card it's like everything is a little concealed. I think for some of you, people can sense you're going through something heavy right now too since the Moon relates to psychological turmoil in some cases, but you hold yourself very gracefully. Physically I feel like you have very immediately pleasant features, people might find there's this 'beautiful darkness' to you- maybe some of you dress in a sort of gothic inspired aesthetic, or perhaps it's this mysterious/contemplative look in your eye.

With the Page of Swords (especially combined with the Moon) people immediately see you as intelligent. Very sharp minded and skilled at communicating (even if you're not a big talker, your speech or vocabulary is clear). Since in this reading we're focusing on appearance, despite the softness illustrated with the Moon card, you may also have some features that are slightly sharper. Like for example, having a very soft, rounded face but a sharp/edgy haircut, or piercings. Pages are also associated with youth, so people may see you as youthful in your appearance. A lot of you who picked this pile are very young too I'm getting- not sure if it's the reading, or just me talking but I have this urge to remind you guys to be safe online!

Finally, the Knight of wands to me shows that people see you as healthy, athletic or just generally physically capable & attractive! You may look strong or agile- I'm getting some of you are dancers (or you look like you would dance, especially ballet!). Despite your calm, intellectual energy, you come across like you live a very active and adventurous lifestyle in some way. I also see that while you might not lead with it when you meet people (initially people noticing that mysterious, intellectual, perhaps shy aspect of you)- you have a very spontaneous and passionate nature that people reallyy love :)

2# - 3 of Pentacles, The Star, 9 of Wands 🌿

Immediately, this group is really emanating 'it girl' energy to me.

With the 3 of Pentacles, I see people being quite in awe of you and viewing you as a very hardworking, competent person. You inspire others in some way, people feel they have something to learn from you. Since the 3 of Pentacles is traditionally related to collaboration & learning, you could be someone who's always around other people, or maybe are a positive representation of your school/work out in public (like for example, often being out and about in your uniform, or being seen as part of a collective like a band or a certain friend group). Appearance wise, to me the 3 of Pentacles feels as though there is something artistic & skillful about your appearance- maybe you're really skilled at makeup, or your clothing is very beautiful and well coordinated.

The Star card speaks for itself! You stand out appearance-wise and garner attention whether you realise it or not! The Star card to me, especially combined with the 3 of Pentacles tells me that you inspire people a lot with your appearance alone but also in other ways. People feel there is something aspirational and 'untouchable' about you- it's sort of Gossip Girl 'Serena Van Der Woodsen' adjacent lol. Again, it could be that there's something about the way you dress that's very skillful and others are in awe of, it could also be that you're very popular or seem as though you would be from the way you carry yourself. A lot of you are very talented or just 'different' in some way and people notice that. (I wish I could specify a bit more but since it's a general reading it could be a variety of reasons people view you this way, follow your gut) :)

The 9 of Wands to me shows that you come across brave and ready for anything, very resilient. Maybe slightly wary or mistrusting too. It also shows that people can tell you're tired/exhausted- not necessarily in a bad way but it's like people can sense in the way you carry yourself that you're trying to keep strong despite struggles you are facing. Maybe you're not getting as much sleep as you need, or just work super hard. For some of you, it's as though people can sense in your expressions/posture/etc that despite being this abundant, inspiring person; you're not totally happy right now and there's something or many things getting to you. I see for some, what's going on is that you have a lot of expectations on you to be this 'perfect', skilled, hardworking, 'golden girl/boy' aspirational person and it is wearing you out deep down. I definitely do see things getting smoother for you with time 🤍

#3 - King of Cups, The Chariot, The Hierophant 🌊

The King of Cups as the first card tells me that you appear to people as somebody who is very in touch with their feelings & emotionally authentic. I don't see an obnoxious person who is always bawling their eyes out (lol), but I see someone who is very warm, welcoming and jovial. When you laugh, you laugh for real. When you smile, it is genuine and sweet. You may not always feel relaxed, but overall you do come across as a very relaxed and mature person and it's really attractive to people. The way you move could be very flow-y and sensual, you might prefer to wear flowing fabrics/styles rather than stiff or sharp ones. Whatever your age or gender is, I see you also come across very parental in the sense that people immediately feel they can trust you, like you're the person a little kid would want to come up to for help if they were lost 🥹

The Chariot tells me that something about the way you appear has a very positive and change-agent energy about it. It could be that you dress very bohemian, or wear very bright colours, or perhaps you do something different with your hair that really subverts expectations and inspires positivity in others. It's as though you stand for something- a certain cause or mentality that shines through in your demeanour. You come across very confident in your style, who you are and what you stand for- you're not afraid to look unique or be 'over the top' and that really makes people happy to see whether you notice it or not! As though you're the one person who wears a beautiful colourful dress/shirt in a sea of people wearing black and grey + looking 'done' with life. Again I'm seeing that the way you move stands out as attractive! While many walk kinda sluggish & dispassionately, you have a bit of a spring in your step, or appear very in command and in tune with your body.

Finally, The Hierophant tells me that you appear spiritual, religious or just having a very strong moral conviction in some way to others. For some of you it could be your facial expressions & the way you react to your environment that leads people to think this. For others, it's more overt things like perhaps adorning yourself in religious or spiritual symbols. The Hierophant also speaks of traditionalism, so you could be someone who prefers slightly more traditional dress styles and values in a way- for a lot I'm seeing dressing in vintage fashion :)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thankyou !! 💞🔮

[thecoochiefairy]

lovesick. toji.

𑄽𑄺 warnings 𑄽𑄺 17.1K. word count. blackfem!reader, toji fushiguro, countryboycoded! toji, sweet!toji,dominant!toji, makeup sex, drunk sex, balcony sex, black woman, vaginal penetration, rough sex, lil bit of sweet talkin’, creaming, squirting, oral [f], choking, praising, LOTS of dirty talk, condom-less sex, kissing, spanking, minors aren’t welcome!

━━ 𝒄𝙤𝒐𝙘𝒉𝙞𝒆𝙛𝒂𝙞𝒓𝙮 𝙩𝒉𝙤𝒖𝙜𝒉𝙩𝒔 .ᐟ listen, don’t cuss me out. it seems like most of y’all didn’t really fuck w/ the snake wrangler, but i did. so this is for the people that did love it, and wanted to tie up the loose ends. :)

𝓐ᥫ᭡ :: song is switch a nigga out, by summer walker.

A PROMINENT FLORAL AROMA WITH A MIXTURE OF GRAPE HUGGED HER NOSE. It was entirely too early for her to be drinking, but she was dying to know her sister’s opinion on the new wine she’d bought, mixing it with orange juice to create her own customized mimosa. 

She dropped a pink hibiscus flower within the tall glass, turning with a small smile as she handed it out, “Here you are, madam—I trust your tongue on the taste of Moscato—don’t fail me now.”

“Tuh, I got this!” 

She took the glass delicately, bringing it to her lips. Drinking a bit of the orange and pink liquid, she swirls it around her tongue before swallowing it down, letting the flavors sink into her taste buds. She smacks her lips together a couple of times, twisting the glass around in her hand fancily. 

“Mm, I can taste the floral tinge from the hibiscus with a dash of grapes. It’s a nice balance of both bitter and sweet. You ate that!”

“I told you it would taste good!” Stoney gives a smile, taking her piece of avocado bread, biting down into it as this was her breakfast. 

She then asks, “Now, remind me again why you aren’t participating in Sai’s career day at school, Ms. I Bake Decorative cakes for a living?”

Serena took another drink of her Mimosa before letting out a sigh, biting down on a piece of her own Avocado bread. She let out a soft hum before speaking, running a hand through her hair as she leaned back in her seat. 

“You know I hate talking in front of people. What about you, bitch? You own a whole pottery studio! Don’t you think that would’ve been cool to show the kids?”

“Do you know how expensive a pound of pottery clay is? I love Sai’s lil’ besties, but I’m not wasting my shit on some bad ass kids,” she shakes her head, “You’re just lazy. Could’ve made them kids a damn Paw-Patrol cake and let them smash it. God don’t like ugly.”

“Well I don’t know how he had our mom birth you then, extra terrestrial. Don’t piss me off— where’s your daughter at before I smack you?” 

Stoney holds back her laugh as she teases, “Ooh, you’re mad. But she’s upstairs, getting herself ready. I did her hair and stuff, I told her she could be responsible for picking her outfit, I just hope she doesn’t come downstairs with two left shoes on and her shirt backwards.”

Serena snickered at the thought, shaking her head as she drank her mimosa again, glancing at the stairs.

“You know if she does, that’s on you for letting her pick out her own outfit.” 

“That’s fine! That’s my baby, and she tried!” 

As she was finishing her sentence, the sound of footsteps came down the stairs towards the kitchen, both women turning their heads to see Sai. She actually hadn’t done bad at all, it was an event at school, so they were told to dress up. Her soft midnight black hair was slicked back into miniature pigtails, edges swirled along her forehead and finger curled ponytails in between the rubber bands beneath her alabaster bows. She wore a shimmering pink dress, glittered at the top, tulle starting at her chest and to her ankles, her ballerina flats matching her bows, socks having ruffled lace along the ankle part.

Stoney gasps, pressing her hands against her face as she greets, “Hi, baby!” Smiling from ear to ear at her five year old, “You look so pretty—You dressed yourself so well!”

Sai grins to herself, giggling softly as she does a little spin for her mom, showing off the pretty tulle of her dress as it swayed around. 

“You think I look pretty, mommy?”

Stoney goes over to her, picking her up and placing her along her hip as she usually did, “So good, my love. Such a good job, hm? I’m so proud of you.”

Sai grins from ear to ear, wrapping her tiny little arms around her mother, nuzzling her face against her shoulder. She lifts her head up to look at her aunt Serena, waving a hand at her. 

“Tee-Tee ‘Rena’—did I do a good job?” She questions, Serena chuckling and approaching the two. Just like an aunt, she had her camera out, recording her niece in awe, snapping a thousand pictures. 

“Tee-Tee’s baby did so well! You’ll be the prettiest girl there.” 

Sai then turns, her big doe eyes—something she’d definitely gotten from her father—blinking at her mother as she conveniently questions, “Is daddy still coming today?”

There it was, the question she wished she could avoid. Her and Nathaniel had been divorced for about six months, separated even before that, and she constantly tried to shield Sai from the absence of her father—she had the unfortunate job of reminding her child what disappointment was. 

She tried not to allow her face to drop as she said, “No, baby. Daddy said he had to work today, so he won’t be coming, okay? I’m sorry.”

Serena awkwardly rubbed sisters shoulder, knowing she hated the face her daughter made each time she was given that news. This was a normal occurrence now, everytime Sai asked about her father, he’d be busy. 

“Who the hell wants to see a weak ass fuckin’ stock broker anyways. What he gon’ do? Teach the kids how to rob, cheat, steal their money?” Serena smacked her lips, Stoney giving a warning as she briefly murmurs, “Serena.” 

Serena pushes off her anger at her ex-brother in law, “My bad. But hey, my lil’ Sai-Sai. Me and your mommy will be there with you and all your friends, and I made cupcakes with extrraa sprinkles!”

“And, Daddy will be here this weekend to pick you up so you can go Christmas shopping with him, yeah?” Stoney adds in, kissing her daughter’s soft cheek multiple times to cheer her up.

Sai was now back to her excited and happy self, giggling when her mother showered her with kisses. The thought of her daddy bringing her shopping was exciting, the thought of spending time with him in general, made the young girl happy. 

 “Can we get presents for you too, mommy?”

“Yeah. Tell the bastard I need thirty bands in the bank right now,” Serena says, Stoney flicking her arm as she interrupts that, “Of course, baby. A little card with your name on it would be beautiful for mommy. You’ ready to go? We don’t wanna be late!”

Sai nodded her head enthusiastically, a sparkle of excitement in her eyes. She hopped down from her mother’s arms, putting her tiny hands in her mom and aunts palms, walking with the two to the front door. This was all Stoney needed—the happiness from her daughter.

 It didn’t matter if she had to be the only one that created that for her—almost having to be the mother and father, essentially—but it didn’t matter. She’d always work twice as hard to provide for Sai. Even if that meant taking her business and turning it into a small pottery studio, having classes three times out the week, allowing people to learn the creations she taught herself. It worked for her. 

They placed the cupcakes for her class within the trunk, Stoney’s Lexus NX 350 pushing down the road as she made her way towards the school building.

“What did that dumbass nigga come up with as an excuse this time?” Serena questions, turning the air up on her side of the passenger seat, not wanting to ask the question, but she was always curious. 

Stoney keeps her hand along the wheel, glancing at the mirrors beside her as she switches lanes, “Said he had a client. I didn’t say too much after that.”

Stoney’s lips form a thin line, sighing to herself. It was always the same thing every time he said he wouldn’t be able to make it with Sai. Work, clients, clients, meetings, meetings. She honestly wondered when it would just stop. It was always some excuse, always something more important than her. Always. 

“I bet the bitch still wanna play house with you. He probably misses you.”

“I wouldn’t care if he offered me the entire world to get back with him,” Stoney briefly says, turning the wheel with one hand, “I just want him to be there for Sai, even if that means explaining what stock-broking is to a bunch of five-year olds. It would’ve been boring, but it would’ve meant something for her, y’know?”

Serena nods her head, crossing her arms against her chest. She turns in her seat, looking back at her niece, who was preoccupied with Bubble Guppies on her mini IPad, eyes glittering in a mix of childish happiness and innocence.

“She’d be way better if she didn’t have a sorry ass dad like him. She’s got you though, you’re doing an amazing job. And you have me. That nigga could turn into a dry-ass Popeyes biscuit.”

“You’d still eat him, huh? Hungry ass.” 

“…Maybe. Actually, damn right! And I’d take three days to shit him out, you know I be’ constipated.”

“You’re stupid,” Stoney sighs, a soft laugh pulling at that. 

“That’s fine, better than the biscuit man. Not that you need a man, but a step-daddy for Sai wouldn’t hurt.”

And at that comment, Stoney decides to say nothing at all, pulling into the school's parking lot. She can see other parents with their children, some of the children dressed in different uniforms from firefighters, chefs, to even small suits, their parents looking to be dressed in their actual work outfits. It was a full on event.

They were guided towards the Kindergarten wing, a door that separated off into an entirely different section that was a lot smaller than what the other grades had to deal with. Stoney and Serena greeted Sai’s teacher, placing the desserts they’d made for her class in the back where everything else sat, Sai giving her mom one last hug as she sat on the carpet with her friends. All the other parents began piling in, a couple unfamiliar faces also standing in the front of the class. It was a man dressed in scrubs, a female police officer, and another man who seemed to be some type of military profession.

Stoney picked up the bright yellow paper that titled the event of today, looking up as she said softly to her sister, “Hm, I didn’t know they’d have extra guests come and speak today. I guess you didn’t have to sign up for it.”

“I guess not,” Serena shrugs her shoulders. She looks around the room, her eyes landing on the unknown men. She then turns to her sister, a sly smile pulling at her lips. 

“Some of them are pretty cute, you have your pick. The doctor, the police officer, or the military? Who’d you choose?” She teases, lightly shoving Stoney’s shoulders with a laugh.

Stoney shakes her head, “Who would you pick, desperate?”

“I’m not desperate,” Serena exclaims quietly, rolling her eyes. She looks at each one of the men again, biting her lip as she tries to decide. After a second, she points at the doctor with his clipboard.

“I love a nigga in scrubs. Mhm, although I’m sure he’ married. Honestly—If he puts me up in a condo, I might be able to get over his wife and kids.”

“You’re terrible, you know that?” 

“Terrible? Meh. Smart? Correct,” Serena grins, watching the teacher as she begins speaking. 

The teacher smiles at the room of parents and kids as they all sit quietly, a small giggle leaving her lips. Each child was going to get the chance to talk about their ‘dream job’ and what they wanted to be when they got older. The special guests would also have an opportunity to explain their job, educating the children in addition to that. As the presentation begins, each kid around the room holds a paper, showing a drawing of what they wanted to be and why. It was an adorable sight, some of them saying fairies, ninjas, assassins, jobs you’d expect a child to say. Then, it was Sai’s turn.

Stoney was easily emotional, she knew that. She told herself she wasn’t going to cry when her daughter stood up there to present her career choice, Serena holding up her phone to record as the five year old held what looked to be her butterfly shaped pottery dish she’d made. 

“My name's Sai, and I wanna be like my mommy when I grow up!” 

The little girl held up the dish—which had pink butterflies, along with the letters ‘S’ and ‘S’ drawn on it—with a smile on her face, showing it off to the rest of the room as she continued, “My mommy makes all these pretty plates and other cool stuff. It makes people happy, so I wanna make people happy. My mommy is like a superhero!”

The teacher smiled at her, “That’s wonderful, Sai. Your dish is beautiful.”  

Stoney’s heart had nearly melted inside of her body, and she wanted to crocodile cry. She loved nothing more in this world than her baby girl.

“All right, we’ll now be moving onto our guests—“

A knock on the door interrupts the teacher's words, the door opening before she could make her way over to it. As Stoney turned her attention like everyone else, it seemed like time stopped—Just to her unamusement. Just to laugh in her damn face. 

He almost had to hunch to come within the classroom, as the ceiling was low, but he was big—his shoulders broad, flexing muscles stretching along his back under the dark long sleeve he wore. His full and dark pink lips, scar cutting through his mouth dangerously, scarily straight teeth made by the devil himself. Dark eyebrows that furrowed as he walked in, sable hair all complimenting his cream skin, littering in tattoos that she knew he had.

 She could imagine the serpent that slithered around his arm, the same one that clutched her hair within his veined palm. And then—those eyes. Those grey eyes poured into her senses, picking up her melting heart and having it drop completely out of her body. 

Toji fucking Fushiguro. 

Her sister's phone that was previously held up slowly dropped down, looking towards her younger sister who could’ve gone into cardiac arrest at this very moment.

 She muttered, “Oh hell.” 

Has he gotten bigger? Taller? Sexier? Why couldn’t he have just become ugly all of a sudden? 

His voice was almost unrecognizable to her, deep, assertive as his first words were, “I’m sorry. Did I miss the special guest presentation?”

Stoney’s eyes were practically popping out of her sockets at the sight of the man—who she thought she’d never see again. And yet, there he was. Toji Fushiguro, standing in all his tall dark glory. She was practically about to have a heart attack. 

The teacher smiles, shaking her head and waving a hand, “No, not at all. You’re actually just in time. Come on up. Class, this is another guest of ours, this is Mr. Fushiguro, he’s a Snake Wrangler.”

The kids cheered at the title—snake wrangler was such a unique and thrilling name to them. But to Stoney, it was like hearing her worst nightmare. She hadn’t seen this man in two months. Since he’d helped her move into her house, since he’d fucked her, cared for her in ways a man in years couldn’t care for her in the way he did in one night. 

And to her luck, Sai instantly recognizes the tall man, running up to him as she wraps her arms along his leg, squealing, “Mr. Snake Man!”

She wished at this moment that Sai wasn’t so damn outgoing—or that maybe this was her personal hell, and it was only a nightmare. Her dark brown eyes widened, her jaw almost dropping open. 

A blind person could sense how attractive he was, even the teacher giving him a look. She collects herself, smiling at Sai, “You know him, sweetie?” 

“Uh-huh! He’s mommy’s friend!” Sai exclaims, her little tiny hands wrapped around his thick, muscular leg.

In that instant, it’s like the entire class looks back towards Stoney, which causes him to look at her. Yup, she was going to faint. She was going to black out.

“Hey, pretty girl. I missed you,” Toji picks Sai up for a moment, pulling her into a hug that makes the small child giggle before placing her back down. 

Stoney was red. Her brown skin was flushed at the situation, unable to even speak. Her heart was racing. He was staring.

She was practically unable to move, unable to function, unable to breathe. Her dark brown eyes staring back into his storm grey ones, unable to break contact. What the hell was he even doing here? This was not the place to run into your one night stand after two months of disappearance. 

The teacher’s voice came in again, “It’s wonderful to have you here, Mr. Fushiguro. Why don’t you find a seat until it’s time for your presentation?” 

He gives a nod, politely smiling as she guides him to a small stool they’d brought for the guests to sit out in front of the group. He sits there now, sitting in that damn school-sized-stool that looked like it would break at any second, his palm clutching what looked to be a travel terrarium.

Nothing was louder than Stoney’s thoughts. She now felt extremely insecure in the top she wore, showing off her midriff, her cargos and fuzzy boots, jade green glasses perched atop of her freckled nose, straight hair lazily pulled behind her face in a matching claw clip.

Serena was having the best time out of anyone there, watching as her poor sister looked like she was going to burst into tears. Stoney knew if she looked next to her, she was going to punch Serena in the face. He couldn’t help but stare at her—she was the prettiest thing to him. Something in his scar twitched at the sight of her glasses, and those freckles he seemed to memorize all those months ago. 

He looked over her body once more, watching her bite at her brown lined lips, how her cheeks were naturally blushed. 

God, he missed her.

“And for our final presenter, everyone give a warm welcome for Mr. Fushiguro!” The teacher ignites clapping throughout the classroom, women gawking, men watching his every move. He was like an alien that’d just come down to earth.

The children cheered and clapped, their eyes looking up at him as he stood from the stool, which was somehow holding up his 200+ pound ass. He stands there, intimidating aura practically surrounding him without needing any effort.

“Well, I’m a Snake Wrangler, or a snake catcher, meaning I help capture reptiles that might be in places they shouldn’t be. In your neighborhood, your backyard, maybe even in your toilet,” which makes the class giggle, but nothing was funny to Stoney at this moment.

A kid within the front of the class raises his hands, speaking anyway before he is called to ask the question, “Have you been bitten before?”

Toji chuckled, the question amusing him, but he answered anyway, “I have. Quite a few times actually. Mostly from smaller snakes. It’s not that bad, just uncomfortable and a little scary if it’s from a bigger one.” 

The class ‘ooed’ at the answer. Another kid spoke up, “Can we see?” 

He smirked, holding up his arm, where there were indeed a few circular shaped scars on his olive skin. All of them seemed shocked, like it was some cool thing. Except Stoney. Who knew what those scars felt like on his skin.

He then places the terrarium on the desk, his broad back facing the classroom for a brief second—making Stoney’s insides throb,imagining her fingers clawing at his back, whining into his ear. 

She blinks, wanting to bang her head against the wall to knock sense into herself, hearing his voice as he asks, “Now, who wants to hold a snake?” 

Maybe Stoney wasn’t alone in the fear that struck against the classroom, but her fears were entirely different. She expected at least one child to volunteer, yet they all sit with wide eyes, seeing as a yellow reptile slithers around his arm, finding comfort in the material of his top.

“This is Lily,” he introduces, “She’s a ball python. Her color might look a little scary, but she’s the sweetest. She loves to cuddle, and she says her favorite show is SpongeBob,” which makes the class giggle, the parents amused at his words. 

A student calls out, “She can’t talk, she’s a snake!”

“She talks to me all the time!” He defends, “She’s just nervous to see all you new people, takes her a while to get comfortable enough.”

The kids laugh at the statement, even Stoney having to hold back a weak laugh, watching how easy he was with them. He allowed the snake to slither up his arm, up until she made her way to his neck, locking around his throat as he adds, “This is her favorite place to sleep. They like where it’s warm.” 

Stoney was more focused on the way that damn snake slid across his muscular arm and shoulders. It unfairly fit him—made him look even hotter somehow. 

But the thought of the snake touching her—it made her shiver. The fact that she was still standing here watching, it was definitely a sense of growth, something she might’ve been able to thank him for.

The kids seemed intrigued by the animal, even more when Toji carefully picked one child to hold the snake. The girl was clearly nervous, but when she was holding the reptile, she had the biggest smile on her face. 

“The main thing I want you guys to understand,” Toji continued his presentation, “Is that snakes are just tryna’ survive. They’re more scared of you than you are of them. They just want to eat and lay down somewhere warm, nothing more.”

She could feel his eyes on her, and she knew that the second this presentation was over, he was going to come over there to talk. 

Not gonna happen. 

So the moment she heard the teacher say, “Thank you so much, Mr. Fushiguro, you’ve been amazing!” She beelined for the bathroom as everyone began clapping, hiding within the stalls until Serena confirmed that he was already gone. 

She nearly had to fan herself, giving her baby girl a kiss before making her way out of the building with her sister, wanting nothing more than to hide under the covers of her bed and scream.

When they got into the car, Serena held a hand over her mouth, giving her sister a couple of minutes as she said, “Can I laugh? I’m finna’ laugh. I’m so sorry, shawty.” 

“Shut up,” Stoney grumbles, her fingers gripping the steering wheel tighter as she sped back to her place. 

“And you rushed to the bathroom like you were gonna throw up. That’s a damn shame.” 

“Shut up,” she repeated again, rolling her eyes as her sister continued laughing, “I was embarrassed.”

“Why you’ being weird anyways? Y’all not fucking or something?”

Stoney blows out a breath. She then admits, “I haven’t spoken to Toji in two months.”

Serena’s jaw practically drops to the floor of the car. She’s shocked into being speechless for a good thirty seconds before blurting out, “Two months? Ain’t no way you haven’t tried to reach out.”

“I thought it’d be letting him down easier that way.”

“For someone who says they hate when people just cut them off without any explanation, you sure went and did the same. You know how lame you look?”

She narrows her eyes, “I have my reasons, Serena. I didn’t just stop talking to him for the fuck of it.”

Serena gives her, “Oh yeah? Then what’s your reason?” She turns her whole body to look at her, her arms still crossed, waiting to hear what she says. 

Now thinking of the reasons she was going to say, maybe she was starting to feel a little stupid. The moment Toji left that morning after, he asked about seeing her again and she told him she was busy— she stopped picking up his calls or even responding to his messages. 

She exhaled as she responded, “I’m busy with the studio and Sai. I don’t have time for some kiddy ass puppy crush.”

Serena looked at her in disbelief, “You can’t be for real. You spend all of your time with Sai if she isn’t at school, you work from home, and the studio is open three times out of the week. This heartless front you’re tryna’ put on? Doesn’t suit you.”

“Well how would you feel if the man that helped you move your stuff into your ex-husbands house listens to your sob story, makes you feel like you matter, and then fucks you so good that you tell him to cum inside of you after only knowing him for forty-eight hours? I feel stupid. Maybe I was just vulnerable, and he was just horny.” 

“You let that man cum inside you?” 

“That’s not the point of what I just said, Serena.”

Her younger sister's eyes were an expressway to her heart, she could never lie about her emotions. She seemed to have built a wall between herself and everyone. Her hands gripped the wheel tighter, her knuckles white and trembling, her lips pursing. 

There were a million things Serena could say to her at this moment, but instead she asked, “Why do you feel stupid?”

She pulls into her driveway, parking as she sits on that thought. She knew why, maybe she just didn’t want to admit that to herself. She hated being as emotional as she was, wearing her entire heart on her sleeve. 

She pulls her hair behind her ear, “I let him in too quickly, I didn’t even know him, Serena. I have a daughter, and I’m a grown ass woman. I can’t just be fucking niggas and thinking they’re in love with me.”

Serena looked at her, almost seeing herself in her younger sister as she said, “Love at first sight seems like a fairytale, I’m well aware of that. I know you’re an adult and you have a daughter, but you ain’t dead, girl. You can live a little—you should live a little more.” 

 Serena reaches out and places a hand on Stoney’s shoulder, saying, “You haven’t been yourself since you and Nathaniel’s split. So what’s really the deeper issue?”

Goddammit. The question makes her eyes turn away from her sister, looking forward to her condo, the sight of it becoming blurry in her eyes. 

She quickly sniffles as she drags her palm along her cheek, hating that she was crying. Her voice was hoarse as she admitted, “I just feel stupid. A man I knew for two days showed me an affection I never got from my own husband…” She presses her hands to her face, “I just…I’ve been wasting so much time…and I h—hate myself for it…”

The sound of her crying hurt Serena in ways she couldn’t describe. Seeing her younger sister like this, knowing how much emotional weight she carried, it didn’t feel fair to her. No one should have to feel that way. 

“Dammit bitch, got me crying too,” she lightly laughed while sniffling, her own tears forming in her eyes, “You’re not stupid for falling a little too hard. That dumbass baby daddy of yours never deserved you in the first place. Fuck that meat head. The only good thing that came from that was Sai, this condo, and your booming business. You’re blessed, baby girl. Know that. And now you have a man trying to fill that emptiness you don’t need, but deserve. Let him show you a love you didn’t have in a place you should’ve. Give him that opportunity.”

She takes in her sister’s words. She didn’t need any man’s love, but if it was genuine, it didn’t hurt to open herself up again. She sinks deeper into her older sister, needing her comfort as she says softly, “I love you.”

Serena smiles against her skin, holding her close as she says, “Ahh, you’re always a little cry baby when you’re sad. But I love you more. And if this man breaks your heart, Imma’ break his skull. So stop crying. You’re ruining my makeup, and I have a date tonight.”

She pulls her head up, “Wasn’t you just saying you wanted that doctor's number at the Career Day? Now you got a date?” 

She smacks her lips, waving it off as she says, “Do you doubt me as a bitch who can get any nigga she wants? That’s my date, girl! I got his number. Foine ass doctor, let me tell you.”

Here we go again.

Stoney felt a little better as the next day came. It was one of her favorite days out of the week, being within her studio and helping others enjoy a session. She had different packages—Pottery and Paint, Pottery and Pot/Smoking, Pottery and Sip— she enjoyed each session, and always was received well by her customers. She loved her studio, SAI’S, sign illuminating pink at the top of the building. It was minimalistic within the inside, honey pine wood tables and walls, plants hung along the ceiling, easels and workstations scattered within the workshop. This was her second home. 

Today in particular was a children’s birthday party, having the children all along the table with mats, mushing their creations into anything they wanted and painting over it. She had Sai participating with them, as she was in the studio with her today to be picked up by her father for the next week or so, spending time with him before Christmas. She knew her daughter was excited, but she wasn’t exactly looking forward to him coming to her place of sanctuary.

A small smile came along her face as she continued to lead, “Okay, so you’re gonna take your clay and roll it into a little burrito—but don’t eat it! It’ll make you very sick,” she dramatically rubs her stomach, making the children giggle, “Can I see everyone make a burrito for me?”

This was her peace of mind, being surrounded by all things she loved. Her baby girl’s giggle, the sound of clay, paint brushes and paint. It was all something she could immerse herself in.

As the session came to an end, she said her goodbyes to the children and parents, beginning to clean off the tables and unused supplies, feeling herself becoming a bit tired from the day.

“Alright, muffin. I need you to go and clean up in the bathroom, so you can look all nice and pretty for Daddy, okay?” She says to Sai, pulling her out of the chair she placed her in, “You need any help from mommy?”

“I’ll be okay!” 

As she continued to clean up the supplies, she heard the bell atop of her door jingling, and inhaled a deep breath.  Her eyes met with her ex-husband, caramel skin, hazel eyes, waves upon his head. He was wearing a suit, assuming he was coming from work. 

When she goes to politely greet him, the first thing he does is look around, raising an eyebrow as he says, “So this is where all my child support money is going, huh?”

And just like that, her good mood was ruined. She reaches over to grab the Hello Kitty duffle that had all of her daughter’s necessities, reaching it towards him as she dismisses, “Your daughter has her Christmas list in her bag, Nathan. She also needs new shoes, she’s beginning to grow out of her old ones.”

He reaches for the bag, his hand touching hers for a moment. His eyes drift down towards her tattoos on her forearms, before they look down towards her chest, as she wears a soft green tracksuit set, where her zipper was dipping a bit low. 

“You’ still fucking that mover?”

Her neck nearly broke as she was taken aback by the question, her face remaining stoic and unwavering. Instead of getting upset, she pulls the bag back towards herself as she dismisses,  “Do you know what shoe size Sai is?”

He doesn’t seem phased by her not responding to the question, leaning himself against the wall as he shoves a hand into his pocket, “She’s a ten in kids, I’m well aware of my daughter’s shoe size.”

His eyes once again stroll down her body, “Small feet like her mom.” 

“Congratulations on knowing that,” she flatly says, “Sai’s just washing her hands. She’ll be out in a second.”

He pushes himself off of the wall as he walks towards the table, sitting himself down, “So this is where you spend the money you got from the divorce, huh? Painting mugs and ashtrays?”

“It’s a good profit to take care of Sai,” she tells him, “She enjoys it here just as much as I do.”

He laughs, leaning back into his chair, “Well at least she’s enjoying it,” He says, before adding, “Because I know I’m sure as hell not paying for you to sit around and play with clay all damn day.”

She blinks at him, before she turns around and goes back to her cleaning. She really didn’t give a fuck about his conversation right now.

 She then hears his mouth open again, “I’ll be bringing Sai back a day early, me and my fiancé are going out of town for Christmas.”

That however makes her halt. She turns her head as she frowns, “What?” 

 “I’m taking a trip with my girl for Christmas. Gonna show her a nice time. We’re gonna be in Florida, in the keys.”

“You’re engaged six months after our divorce?” Her frown becomes deeper, “I haven’t even been out of the house for three months.”

He rolls his eyes, “We’ve been separated since last holiday. I’ve been with her since before you moved out, and I proposed to her three months ago. She’s my future. What, you expecting me to be pining over your miserable ass?”

She could take a lot of his beatings. But this particular conversation was viscerally pissing her off. She turned to fully look at him, raising an eyebrow as she questions, “Who the fuck is miserable?”

He stands to his feet and crosses his arms, “You’ve been sulking over being a single mom since we’ve been separated. I’d actually be surprised if you kept the next nigga you’re fucking on. You’re pathetic. Why do you think you’re here, playing with paint and clay in a tiny ass studio?”

His words were hitting her harder than she expected them to. Saying these harsh things to herself was one thing, but hearing them from the person that caused most of her misery was deafening. She hated that she was about to cry. But this was anger, and she wanted to become violent.

 She takes the duffle bag that holds her daughter’s items, chucking it at him as she spits, “You can wait for Sai in the car. Get the fuck out.”

He catches the bag, the items in it falling out in the process. He laughs, “It’s like you never even left the house,” He walks closer to her, “You think you’d be less of a miserable bitch after two months on your own.”

“You sound like an ignorant ass nigga right now. I’d advise you to back up before I put you in between this fuckin’ table and work station,” she threatens, uncaring if tears were coming in her eyes. Her hands were shaking. 

“Your new nigga gave you some balls or something? Now you’ can talk to me crazy?” 

She was entirely too angry to see anything else at this moment. So angry that she didn’t even hear the bell jingle atop of her studio, Nathaniel in the way of the door.

Her eyes peer into the doorway, seeing Toji standing there, eyes immediately narrowed, clutching his fist along the bouquet of flowers he holds. 

“You’ good?” 

The question echoes in her mind, almost like a replay of a situation they had before. She blinks in between the both of them as she says, “I’m fine—“

“You know I wasn’t asking you, Stoney.” 

He tries to be as respectful as possible when it comes to her ex-husband for the sake of Sai, but walking in to see him standing over her, he couldn’t hold his mouth this time. 

Before she can give a reaction, Toji drops the flowers within his hand, his face nearly able to burn the skin off of Nathaniel as he continues, “Nah, fuck that.” 

He’s fast, incredibly fast as he’s already making his way towards Nathan, which makes Stoney’s eyes go wide, panicked as she flies around him to grip Toji’s arm, not expecting him to have this reaction.

 She holds him as she confirms, “I’m fine, okay? I’m fine,” she confirms, only wanting to diffuse the situation. 

Toji knocks his head down to look at her. He looks back up at Nathaniel, who’s still standing there with a look of annoyance on his face, but something else within his eyes. Hesitance. 

His jaw clenched as he relaxed a bit, her touch feeling like it’d been forever, almost wanting to thank himself for the cause.

“I’m good.”

Thankfully, Sai appears, seeing her father as she greets, “Daddy!” Excited to see him, jumping up within his arms.

Toji looks down at the child, his features instantly softening as he sees the girl in her father’s arms. Seeing her cheerful smile, she had no idea of the tension in the room.

Nathan gives her a soft kiss on the head, “Hey, baby girl. You’ ready to do some Christmas shopping?”

“Yeah!” Sai says with a big smile, her arms going around his neck for a hug. 

Stoney clears her throat as she gently pulls Sai in to kiss her cheek, leaning down to quickly pick up her stuff that's fallen out of the duffle she’d chucked at Nathaniel, “Let Daddy take pictures of you, okay? I wanna see you having fun with him. And call me if you need anything, okay?” 

Sai smiles at her mom, and nods in reply, giving her a little wave, “Okay, mommy! Love you!” 

Toji watches as Stoney gives her daughter attention, seeing her pick up the items on the floor. He leans down, picking the stuff up with her, taking the bag out of her hand as he reaches it out to Nathaniel.

Nathaniel is still just glaring at Toji, who was waiting patiently for a reaction. Nothing. No talking goes into Nathan taking the bag from him. 

Sai’s sweet voice waves, “Bye, Mr. Snake Man!” as they exit out of the studio.

Toji gives the kid a little wave, and puts on a small grin. When they exit completely, his jaw finally unclenches, taking in the sight of Stoney. It was like seeing her again for the first time.

“You okay?”

He looks down at her fingers, watching how they shake from the previous situation. She’d been crying. Toji brings a palm up, grabbing her hand, unable to stop himself from just wanting to comfort her. 

“I’m fine.”

“Quit lying to me.”

She pulls her hand away, “What’s with the flowers? How’d you even know about the studio?” 

He wants to re-clench his jaw from her pull away. This was his second time seeing her in two months, and she still had her walls up. 

“You ran off on me at career day. I didn’t know Sai went to school there.” 

“Well—you know now,” she dismisses, turning as she begins cleaning up the rest of her studio. She can feel him following behind her, even beginning to pick up items himself to help her clean. 

He continues, “Serena told me about the studio before I left career day. I ended up asking Sai if she needed more flowers in her garden, she said you had pulled some of the Hibiscus’. So—I thought you needed some more,” he takes the bouquet off the table, reaching them towards her. 

Her eyes narrow down at the flowers, “Fucking Serena. Of course,” she presses her tongue within her cheek, turning away to gather the mats off the table. 

His dark grey eyes don’t leave her, watching as she walks around, trying to keep herself composed. When she refuses to take the flowers, he takes them back, setting them on the table, but not taking his eyes from her. 

“You gonna cut your sister off for giving me the name of your studio?”

“Serena couldn’t hold water in a bucket if a gun was to her head,” she retorts, scanning his attire, his overalls and wife beater showing he must’ve been at work, “I don’t need the flowers.”

“Are you upset about what I said to Nathaniel?”

She sighs, halting her steps, “Toji. I didn’t need you to play bodyguard. I can fight my own battles with him.”

Toji leans his forearms down on the table, veins flexing as he watches her pause her steps, finally looking him in the eyes again. 

“I know you can handle your own battles with him. I know. But he’s a fuckin’ prick. Needs his fuckin’ skull bashed in, I see the way he makes you feel. He hurts your feelings.”

She crosses her arms over her chest, raising an eyebrow at him. He then says, “I’m sorry. I wasn’t tryna impose.”

“Well you did. Why are you here, Toji?”

“I miss you.”

She now raises both eyebrows, “You had two months to get over me. I think you’ll survive.”

“I can’t. So now what?”

She looks up at him, tilting her head slightly as she says, “Look, you did your big one, okay? Let me give you my sob story about my past relationship, fucked me, but we’re both grown as fuck. You don’t know me, and you enjoyed yourself. Why can’t we just leave it there?” 

“That’s what you think? That I just wanted to fuck you?”  

She shrugs, “I don’t know. But I have a life to make for myself and my child, I’m not tryna bring you into my bullshit. Seeing what just happened was enough to understand that.”

He comes even closer to her, feeling his body temperature rising, his eyes not leaving hers.

“You think I’m gonna let you write me off that easily? You think I can’t handle whatever you throw at me? Like I’m weak or some shit?”

“I never said you were weak.”

She feels her own body wanting to pull closer to him. Her heart thumps in her chest as she tilts her head up to look at him, able to smell his scent. 

He then says to her, “My birthday’s coming up.” 

She gives him a fake smile, patting his arm as she says, “Hm, Happy early birthday then. Hopefully you can find some girl to bounce her ass on you,” she goes around him, focusing back on picking up the work mats.

“I’m cool off that, I’d rather you be the one bouncing your ass on me.”

She scoffs, huffing as she turns towards him, “Why are you still here?”

“I want you.”

“Okay?”

He moves as she moves, refusing to let the space between them become too much. His eyes follow her as she tries to go around him, his scarred lip twitching. 

She raises an eyebrow, “Is something funny?”

“You’ not even gonna ask me what I’m doing for my birthday?” 

She sighs, pausing her movements again. 

“What are you doing for your birthday, Fushiguro?”

“Taking you wherever you wanna go. You deserve a real date.”

“Toji.” 

He raises an eyebrow as she says his name like that, clearly frustrated with him. 

“What? You’ done being stubborn now?”

“I’m tired of playing chicken with you.” 

“So tell me where you wanna go then.”

She squints, letting out a sigh as she begins to walk past him, sarcastic as she says, “I’ve always wanted to see Rome, Italy for Christmas. It looks beautiful there.”

“Rome, huh?” 

His eyes watch her ass as she walks past him, wanting to follow her anywhere she went.

 “I’ve heard the food is good as fuck, too. I’ll book the tickets tonight. You’ got three days to pack.”

Her entire body halts. She turns towards him as he begins walking out of the studio, “I was joking, Toji.”

When he’s still walking, she begins following after him, feet scrambling to catch up with his large strides as she alarmingly repeats, “I was joking!”

He then turns back to her, jaw clenching as he says, “I’m about to be thirty-three, Stoney. Imma’ grown ass man. Do you think I’m playing about you?”

She steps back a bit, hearing the seriousness in his tone. She then says, “I think you’re hard headed as fuck.”

“You can cuss me out on the plane. You’ need my card to go shopping?” 

She quickly says, “No,” as he’s already pulling it from his wallet, ready to hand it to her.

He raises an eyebrow in response, “What, money scares you too? Damn, I thought it was just snakes.” 

“Funny, jackass,” she snatches the card from him, “Now you’re finna’ go bankrupt.”

He leans in closer to her, his jaw clenching as he smiles down at her—the bastard was sexy. 

“I got more money than I need. I’m greedy as fuck, you know that.” 

“Goodbye, Fushiguro,” she finalizes, lightly pressing his chest, backing him out of her studio.

“You sure you don't want a goodbye kiss?”

“You can kiss my ass,” she tells him, quickly pulling away as she closes the door to the studio, waving at him through the glass panel.

He raises his hand up, doing a little wave back, knowing she can see the smirk on his face through the window. She has to hold back the small smile that comes to her face as he looks almost like a child, nearly tripping as he makes his way back to his truck. 

She trips as she makes her way over to her phone, going to her emergency contacts as she immediately dialed her sister's number.

“You better be dying, Stoney. I am laid up playing General Hospital, and I do mean that in the nastiest way.” 

“You’ll be dying cause imma’ kill you! He’s taking me to Italy, Serena.” 

“WHA—HUH?!”

                          𝓐ᥫ᭡

THREE DAYS OF PREPARATION WAS OVERWHELMING. She bought mostly black attire, flimsy, sexy, but she refused to admit that any of it was to get his attention. She’d even had Serena take out her sew-in—wash her hair, blow it out, and replace it with all new bundles. New makeup, shoes, even new scents of perfume. She felt ready. 

She watched as he placed her two suitcases in the back of his truck, “Think you packed up your whole house?”

She sighs, “Well one is my clothes bag, the other is my hair and makeup bag.”

“Hair and makeup bag?” He repeats, “You didn’t need a whole bag full of that. You look good enough already.”

“Quit flirting. Oh—“ she pauses, pulling the dark green 

Telfar off her shoulder as she reaches in, “Um—I got you your cigarettes. Thought you might’ve needed some. But you can’t smoke them on the plane, okay?” She raises the box in her hand, “The guy told me there’s organic tobacco in these.” 

His eyes run up her form, taking in her frame dressed in a black hoodie and sweatpants set, matching Toji’s attire accidentally. Her edges swirled along her forehead as she had in an orchid claw clip, freckled face covered by her glasses, skin coaxed by the cloying scent of her vanilla perfume. 

He slowly grabs it from her fingers, inspecting the label, “Organic tobacco?” He says with a smirk, “You tryna make me healthy, now?”

“Maybe,” she says softly, “You’ ready to go?”

He looks back to her, seeing an almost doe-eyed look within her face, genuinely concerned for his health. She was cute. 

“Been ready for three days, baby,” he grunts, reaching for her hand, “Come on,” opening the passenger seat of his truck, “Sure we don’t need to add your ass as a third check bag?” 

“Boy, hush.” 

She leans her head along the window, watching out as they pass the city. The nervousness she had was gone, but she felt…hesitant with him. 

Her head came up as she saw them pulling behind the airport, raising an eyebrow as she questions, “We aren’t flying with the airport lines?”

“Nah, I chartered a private plane. Caught an alligator out of a client's backyard, said he could give me the hook up—gave me a decent price on a jet.”

Her eyes glanced at the cream colored jet, seeing as workers began making their way towards his truck as she questions, “And how decent was the price of a jet to Italy, better yet—how big was the gator?” She frowns, blinking in surprise.

He watches her eyes gaze up at the jet, looking to the workers as they approach, “Big enough. Don’t ask too many questions.”

She rolls her eyes, watching as he pulls a cigarette from the box she’d gifted him. She gives a polite smile to the workers that begin unloading his truck, opening the door as he steps out to smoke. 

She comes around as she almost pouts like a child, “You said you wouldn’t smoke on the plane.”

He takes a hit from the cigarette, releasing the smoke from his mouth as he leans against the side of his truck, “Never said that shit. Plus, I thought these were supposed to be healthy for me?” 

She sighs, “I shouldn’t have told you that.”

He wraps his arm around her neck, pulling her forward with a chuckle as he blows out the smoke. She wasn’t used to a man being so…playful with her, making her feel like she didn’t have to be so aware and parental. She could relax.

He blows the smoke into her face to tease her, watching as her nose crinkles up and she waves a hand in front of her, attempting to disperse the toxins. 

“You’re cute as fuck when you’re annoyed.”

“And you’re annoying when you’re…annoying.” 

He raises an eyebrow, “That’s what you came up with?”

“I’m going to the plane!” 

She begins making her way towards the jet, waving politely to the workers as they open the door for her, ignoring Toji as he calls, “I hate to see you go, but I love to watch you leave!”

Pulling through the small door of the jet, the size of it made her nervous, this being her first time in one. The seats were big and luxurious, wine glasses and fruit along the small section they had holding food and drinks. She felt a bit overwhelmed at the effort he’d put in.

She sat with a space between Toji as she wanted to lay down, having her arms wrapped around her legs. But the moment they began takeoff, she frowned lightly at how fast the jet was moving, scooting herself closer to him, her anxiety now a bit on the higher scale.

“Scared?”

“What, are you gonna make fun of me cause I’m not a big fan of planes?”

“Why would I do that?” he questions, solemn to his voice. It makes her feel almost embarrassed, like she assumed something out of him.

She exhales, “My bad,” pulling her hands along her arms, feeling herself becoming colder.

“Don’t start that apologizing bullshit. You could’ve just came closer,” he mutters, grabbing her waist and pulling her close to his lap, her head now resting along his legs, his palm almost too warm as he rubs the skin between her thighs and ass.

It makes her take in a bit of breath, still trying to get used to his touch all over again. The minute he pulled the blanket from behind the chair while still rubbing her cold skin, her eyes felt heavy, and she felt extremely comforted by his touch. It wasn’t long before her lashes met with her cheeks.

He looked down at her—the way the sunlight from the window streamed off her face, her long lashes, freckles igniting from the light around her head, cascading along the skin of her shoulder, her breathing a melodic tune. 

Fuck. He was becoming addicted to her all over again.

She didn’t realize how long she’d been asleep. When her eyes opened again, she noticed as her arm pulled around his stomach, face deep within his abdomen as she slept. His hand had instinctively made its way to the back of her head, stroking the back of her neck, rubbing lightly at the skin.

“You’re always so warm,” she says softly, burying her face back into his lap, “Like I have two blankets,” she hums.

He chuckled, letting his hand go from the back of her neck to her waist, his hand now rubbing her ass through her sweats as he looked down into her now opened eyes.

“You’ still tired?”

She shakes her head, “No,” then looks up, seeing as his eyes are focused along his phone, a video playing as she asks, “What you’ watching?”

 “NFL highlights. I put money on the Eagles to win today. They’re losing. I’m about to flip the plane upside down.”

“Oh god, you’re already starting to act your age. Checking sports at random times of the day. Should I start calling you Grandpa?”

“You could call me something else.”

“Never mind. You’re still a child,” she rolls her eyes, “How far are we now?”

“We’re still about an hour out,” he looks back to his phone, “Why? You’ got somewhere else to be?”

“Mmm, maybe. Might find me a sexy ass Italian man and run off with him—“ he’s already leaning his face down close to hers, making her giggle as he grunts at her words, “Yeah, okay. You can run off with him if they find his body.” 

The last hour before they land, he can see her becoming more comfortable with him. It’s a side of her that he hadn’t gotten to see before. She sits up, changing her entire position as she straddles his lap, pressing pecks along his jaw, wanting to touch him in any way she could. His eyes were still along his sports as she used him as her own personal playground, allowing her to pull the hairs off his arms, scratch the scalp of his hair, even plucking his eyebrows at one point. He didn’t mind any of it. 

The moment they hear the pilot go over the intercom of the jet, Stoney leans over at the window, peering down at the overhead of their destination—Rome, Italy.

The sight of the overhead lights of the city, the way the sunset beamed through the sky, he could see the way her eyes lit up in awe. The moment they land, they’re met with the chauffeur as he places their bags in the trunk of the Cadillac Escalade, making their way out of the airport. 

She peered out the window as they drove into the city, the roads small, bricked cement along the ground, pastel buildings and infinite amounts of greenery everywhere she looked. The vehicle glides through the crowded streets, the sounds surrounding them in a buzz. Horns were going off constantly and people walking along the sidewalks, their voices blending into a constant hum. 

When they pull into the driveway of what essentially could be a villa, Toji tips the chauffeur, hopping out of the truck as he pulls their suitcases onto the ground. Stoney looks up at the Mediterranean styled home, glancing down at the stained glass double doors.

The moment they make it inside, a beautiful marble and hardwood space is made up of open-concept. The living room is surrounded by large windows able to see out into the streets. The kitchen is made out of a beautiful white stone, a large island sitting in the middle with a dining room table in the next room. Two doors lead into the bedroom, a vintage look to it, champagne comforter set with a fancily carved headboard, long golden curtains high along the ceiling, leading to a spacious balcony.

Stoney’s eyes couldn’t find one place to look. She’s so distracted by the beauty of this house, she’s pulled away as she feels a pair of arms sneak along her hips, feeling his breath along her neck, holding her close to him. 

She sighs, rubbing the skin of his arm as she tells him, “How are you trying to impress me on your birthday?”

He chuckles against her neck, the feeling of his lips against her skin sending shivers down her spine as his chin rests along the curve of her shoulder. One of his hands slowly travels over her hoodie, gently tracing the skin of the side of her abdomen.

“Don’t gotta impress you, baby. Just trying to make you comfortable. You’ comfortable?”

She nods her head as she breathlessly replies, “Mhm,” before she then adds, “You should go shower. You still haven’t told me how you wanna celebrate tonight.”

He hums against her skin, his lips slowly caressing her neck in an open mouthed kiss, “You’re tryna avoid me.” 

The laugh that comes from her lips is forced, awkward even. It was as if they hadn’t already been together on the drive there, the plane ride, all of it. But they were here now, in this intimate space, and maybe that intimidated her a bit. 

She squeezes his arm tighter as she lies, “No. I just take forever to get ready and think you should go first. Womanly shit. And—I’m hungry,” she adds on, turning towards him, lightly pulling away as she gives him a smile.

He could see the unease in her eyes, and that familiar shyness that would always take over her. He nods his head as he lets her pull away, keeping a hold of her hand, a subtle understanding in his eyes, “What do you want for dinner?”

“I’d ask you that, birthday boy,” she brings her arms around his neck to make sure she wasn’t being awkward, “What are you in the mood for?”

“You really wanna know what I’m in the mood for?”

The question seems innocent, but she knew it wasn’t. She was blushing hard enough. When he chuckles at her slow blinking at him, she sighs out, “Toji…” hearing his amusement as he brushes his nose against hers, finally allowing her to breathe as he pulls back to go shower.

He turns to make his way down the hall to the bedroom, calling over his shoulder,  “I’ll be done in twenty minutes, don’t set the house on fire while I’m gone.”

Her eyes follow him, the way his back muscles flex as he peels the hoodie he wears while walking towards the bathroom, nearly tilting her body to follow him with her vision. 

She mindlessly replies, “….Okay.” 

God.

It was starting to become a game of cat and mouse. The only thing was, Stoney wasn’t sure which part she played. He came out of the shower with a towel wrapped along his hips just begging to fall, his large arms reaching up as he dried his dark hair, muscles flexing along his stomach with every move he made, tattoos almost moving with him.

All of the thoughts she had smacked her upside the head like a brutal fight, driving her insane. She moved around him as she went into the bathroom. 

She took her time on her hair and makeup, wanting to look as good as possible. Her dark hair was pin straight, layers prominent within the dark shine of her tresses. Her lashes create a cat-eye, dark liner in her bottom lid, a mauve and a dark brown mixture along her lips. Even if she’d gotten the approval from her sister, she felt…strange in her dress.

 It was sexy, purposeful to catch someone's eye. The black silk somehow clung to her frame, but still had a flow to it, spaghetti straps along her shoulders, lace clutched along her breast, nearly showcasing the brown of her nipples if you looked close enough. The left side of it had a slit all the way to her hip, giving the illusion that she wore nothing under. She pressed her lips together as she pulled her hair behind her ear, tilting to the side as she checked herself out. 

Her eyes then follow over to the open door, seeing as Toji’s frame now stood there, suit clutched to his figure as it fit him perfectly. His tie was still loose, buttons open from the top as he was getting himself ready. In all of that, his jaw visibly tightened at the sight of her. 

“…Is it too much?” she softly asks.

He walks up behind her, his hands trailing over her hips, watching her face in the mirror through his darkened gaze. His eyes roam over her frame, taking in the lace along her chest, the skin of her neck. 

“Turn.”

She turns towards him with a breath, the sound of his voice making her want to vibrate. She squeals as he places her along the counter of the bathroom, holding him as if she would fall. 

“Please say something else before my brain explodes.”

He chuckles, his hands clutching the skin of her legs, fingers running along her thigh, going under the silky material of the dress. He could practically feel her skin trembling underneath his palms as he looked over her.

“Christ, baby,” his voice comes out raspy as his eyes roam over her body, his fingers gently squeezing her thigh. “Shit is almost criminal at how good you look.”

She exhales at that, “You okay with the dress?” Her eyes glance back and forth, seeing that the question almost confused him.

“If you’re asking whether or not I give a fuck about you showing your body, the answer is I don’t. I know how to fight,” he tells her, his words making her giggle a bit as he gives a kiss to her neck, trailing up her jaw.

The moment she feels him close to her lips, she pulls his mouth back as she questions, “Need help with your tie?”

He lets out an amused huff as she pulls his mouth away, trying to distract herself. He smirks a little as he answers, “I’m grown as fuck. But yeah, do it for me.”

She wraps her fingers along the silk as she begins tying it around his neck, rolling her eyes as she says, “I’m aware, you’re six years older than me. That’s like fifty-thousand years.”

“Very funny.”

 He watches intently as she ties the tie around his neck, her fingers touching the silk, making sure it was proper. 

He smirks a bit as he asks, “You’ gonna be a smartass all night long?”

“Anyways, I couldn’t find much on the restaurants close by, the more local places seem to not be searchable. It also looks like we’ll have to walk a bit to see all the pretty stuff. Ooh! I see the Colosseum isn’t too far away, and apparently around this time they have a big Christmas tree next to it! I wanna take a bunch of pics for Sai to see,” she smiles, “And then there’s this beautiful church with all these paintings of angels on the ceiling, and you can take pictures of it!” She’s rambling, buttoning up the top he wears beneath his suit jacket. 

She halts herself a bit, pulling back her fingers as she says, “Sorry. We can do whatever you want first, of course.”

He watches her ramble on, a small smile on his face as she listed out the things she read about and that piqued her interest. 

“I wanna go wherever you wanna go, baby,” he tells her, his voice coming off a bit softer than usual, “You’re the one excited to see this stuff, so let’s do that first.”

God, she hated being soft with this man. To hear him sincerely tell her that, she closes the final button on his suit, trying to hide her smile as she girlishly replies, “Okay.”

“We gotta go soon before we don’t leave. You look too fuckin’ good in this dress right now.”

“Down, boy,” she giggles, watching as he pulls on her Christian Louboutin ballet heels, giving a kiss to her feet as he ties the satin along her ankles. He pulls her off the counter with a smack to her ass, grunting as he kisses her forehead with a, “C’mon.” 

Seeing the sun set along the city was a sight. It seemed like the night made it wake up from its daily slumber, bodies crawling along the brick ground as she led the way. Her eyes traveled along the pastel colored buildings, the smell of food, music strumming from musicians along the street, windows freely open from neighborhood apartments.

It’s almost as if love fills the air. She watches as people sit on the outside, kissing and touching one another in romantic forms, continuing to pull him past a lit up flower shop—she can’t help but slow down. Her eyes fall along the pastel pink petals, yellow within the middle of it.

She gasps softly, “They’re Lotus flowers…”

He stops as soon as she pauses, his eyes going to the flowers that caught her eye. The petals looked pristine and vibrant, so much as if they’d been grown out of magic. Seeing how she carefully touched them, almost as if she’d break them in two, they looked like the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen. 

“You like them?”

“They’re pretty,” she smiles gently, “Sai would love these in our little garden.”

“They’re yours, then. Take as many as you want.” 

He’s already at the register, propping a cigarette in between his lips, beginning to exchange the cash he carried for euros with the cashier as he pulled out his wallet.

She tilts her head, pursing her lips, “Don’t be funny, Toji. How am I supposed to get flowers across the country?”

“I’ll hire an entire fuckin’ army to deliver them if you need me to.” 

She sighs lightly, holding the bouquet close to her chest. She thanks the cashier as he smiles, standing against her heels as she presses a kiss to his cheek, “You’re such a sweet bean. Sai will love these.”

He huffs a bit at the kiss on the cheek, her lips feeling impossibly warm against his skin.

“Yeah, okay,” he mutters within her ear, kissing her cheek back, “Let’s go.”

As they continue walking farther down, she spots a restaurant across the bridge. Christmas decorations hang all along the tent of the building. She clutches his hand a bit tighter, using her other hand to hold her bouquet as she turns to him, “Can we go to that one?”

“We gotta get on a boat to get to that one,” he mentions.

Her eyes fall down into the water, seeing a man sitting on the end of a thin canoe, swaying the paddles idly. She raises her eyebrow as she says, “Boat? That shit is small as fuck. How isn’t he flipping on that?”

He chuckles at her response, “You never seen a gondola?”

She narrows her eyes, “Oh, so you think you’re better than me? Why you’ know what that is? You fucked a bitch from Italy or something?”

He blinks slowly at her, playing along as he replies, “Yeah, my passport’s stamped as hell.” 

“Oh, well how about you call your lil’ foreign hoes to come celebrate your birthday? I’d rather swim than get on a canoe with you!”

“Gondola.”

“Whatever the fuck!” 

She waves politely at the man, taking his hand instead of Toji’s as she steps down onto the navy blue boat. Her heel makes her wobble a bit, the feeling of the water making her tense as she sits along the bench, taking a deep breath as they become situated. 

The moment they began moving, she could feel everything beneath them, including the water swaying. These moments seemed romantic enough in movies, but right now, it was kinda terrifying. The moment the paddle had the entire boat sway, she placed her flowers along Toji’s lap, gripping the end of his suit jacket as she exhaled. 

“Don’t make fun of me.”

“Even after you were just talking shit?”

She goes to talk more shit, the boat teetering, her mouth clasping shut as she grips him tighter, laying her head against his shoulder as she nearly whimpers, “Toji.” 

He sighs, wrapping his arms around her, pulling her even closer, “You’re good, momma. Sai will still have a parent by the end of this boat ride.”

She nods her head, keeping her eyes fluttered closed. He then says, “Unless…”

“Unless what?” her head peaks up. 

“Every night in my dreams—I see you, I feel you…”

She blinks, “You are not singing the Titanic song right now. You’re not funny. You’re just not,” she pouts, hiding her face within his shoulder. 

They finally arrive along the other side of the street, Stoney beginning to walk faster until she makes it to the restaurant, finally accepting Toji’s hand, following the host who sits them down.

“I’m not talking to you for like five minutes,” she huffs, placing her flowers against the extra chair, “That was mean.”

“I see where Sai gets that pouting shit from. It’s cuter when she does it.”

Stoney rolls her eyes, taking the menu and smacking his palm with it, “Say you’re sorry.”

He rubs his hand where she smacked, “Damn,” he mutters, before letting out a sigh, “Apologies for scaring you on the gondola, my lady.”

She smiles, “It’s okay. And stop smoking,” she reaches over to pull the cigarette from his mouth, his entire body conveniently moving back, opening his legs a bit as he manspreads along the chair, continuing to puff his cigarette. 

She hated how good he looked in a suit. The moment he orders a whiskey as she orders a crown and Coke with lime, her eyes glance over him again, patting her fingers against the table.

“I had some questions for you,” she says, her slender eyes sparkling under the lights.

He shifts in his seat, taking another drag of his cigarette, the smoke slowly leaving his lips as he raises his eyebrows, listening intently. 

“Go ahead.”

“Mmm…well, where are you from?” 

He places the cigarette in between his fingers, bringing the whiskey glass to his lips as he takes a small sip, his eyes never leaving hers. 

“Tokyo,” he simply says, his voice coming out a bit huskier than usual.

“Why come to the states? Were there no reptiles to wrangle out in Tokyo? Or someone that needed help moving?” She questions.

He chuckles a bit at her words, shaking his head as he answers, “No one was willing to pay me what I wanted. Started helping a friend move boxes, and decided I wanted my own company. Ended up helping a family get a snake out their house, it piqued another interest. Is this an interview?”

She rolls her eyes, “This is a date, we have to get to know each other!”

“My fault. You’re right, pretty. Continue.”

“Hm…so Japanese was your first language?”

He hums as his eyes roam over her, watching her take sips of her drink, seeing the way the lights in the restaurant made her skin glow gently. 

“Yeah,” he confirms, setting his glass back down onto the table, “Didn’t learn English until I was thirteen. Took a while to learn, shit was hard.”

“Tell me something,” she asks him, leaning more forward on the table, “Japanese is pretty. Wanna hear it from your mouth.”

His lips curve up as she leans forward on the table in front of him, her eyes looking intently. He doesn’t hesitate in his response, his voice coming out deeper, the language sounding more intimate, almost as if it were being spoken only for her to listen to. 

“Anata to sekkusushitai,” he murmurs, his eyes locked on hers.

She blinks as his voice lowers, tilting her head as she questions, “Gonna say it in English now?”

“Tell me what you think I said,” he offers, his tongue running along his lip before he grabs his cigarette, taking another puff.

“Something you ain’t have no business saying,” she squints, “I knew you didn’t like me. Cause you don’t wanna tell me! I’m not your type. Do you even like black women?”

He raises an eyebrow, “So that’s what we’re doing now?”

She crosses her arms, “Well, yes! I mean, do you? How do you know how to handle a black ass situation? What you’ gonna do if you’re fucking me, and you’re pulling my hair too hard that my wig comes flying off? Cause that can happen!” 

“Shit, guess I gotta start pulling at your braids then.”

She presses her hands over her face as she squeaks, “Ah! Nooo. You did not just say that. I’m about to faint,” she fans her face, ignoring the full on laugh that comes from him.

“That’s not what you wanted to hear, huh? That I’m gonna grip—“

“Please stop. I beg.” 

“Well, don’t question how I feel about you then. You should know that shit by now.” 

They then order their food, Toji noticing as Stoney constantly checks the flowers beside her, gently touching them every few seconds. 

He raises an eyebrow, “Think they’re gonna fly away?”

“I’m just tryna think how I could preserve them for Sai. She’ll be so happy.”

His jaw clenches a bit at the sight of her beaming,  wanting to be as close to her as possible. Instead, he keeps his hands to himself as he then states, “Talk to me about Sai.”

She blinks, “About Sai?”

Taking another puff from his cigarette, his eyes don’t leave her face as he nods in response, “Yeah, your face lights up every time you say her name. I wanna keep that up.”

The sentence makes her a bit warm, but she knows how happy the thought of her child makes her. She says, “Well, she’s been doing really good since she started school. She gets along with the other kids, and she’s inviting them to have a sleepover for her birthday. I’m not sure what theme she wants, I think Minnie Mouse but then she said that all the girls at school right now like BRATZ, which shocked me, considering that was the thing when I was younger. She likes Hello Kitty too, but I think she might’ve outgrown her a bit. I’m tryna get her to like Strawberry Shortcake, cause I love that brand and want an excuse to buy a bunch of shit.” 

She heard herself talking and talking, pulling herself back a bit as she lightly laughed, “Yeah…but she’s—she’s great. She’s happy to be with her dad for Christmas, even if he isn’t my favorite person in the world.”

She slows down on her continuation, noticing the way he stares at her. She raises an eyebrow, “What?”

“Nothing.” 

He takes another drag from his cigarette, his eyes never once leaving hers, “Just seeing how long I could keep you talking. Your voice is prettier than fuckin’ angels singing.”

Her heart flutters a bit, eyes pulling away as they place the pasta with meatballs along the table, the large heart shaped pepperoni pizza making Stoney want to dreamily sigh like a princess. She watches as Toji digs the spoon within the plate, swirling the utensil in between the noodles and placing it towards her mouth. She immediately opens in response, pulling the food in, humming as it tasted delicious.

She groans, “Either this is too good or I’m just starving.”

“Probably both. You were too busy acting like you didn’t fuck with me to have a meal before we got here.”

He takes his thumb to wipe a bit of pasta sauce from the corner of her mouth, “You’re making a mess, momma. Don’t need you crying that your dress is ruined.”

As she feels him wiping sauce off the side of her mouth, the buzz of her cocktail creeps its way in. It’s like all of her alcohol had suddenly shot down between her legs. She was a lightweight, unfortunately. 

Otherwise, she wouldn’t have leaned forward, grabbed his finger, wrapped her lips around it and began sucking the sauce off herself. Her feline eyes see his jaw tighten, blinking innocently as she questions, “Am I clean?”

“Chill. I’m tryna’ be good.”

She giggles, pulling herself back, her eyes becoming low as her voice is more smooth, “Think my little drink is catching up to me.”

There’s that damned laugh again. 

He groans as she pulls back, her voice going a bit lower, a new sultriness to it that makes his pants a bit uncomfortable. He runs a hand through his hair, shifting in his chair before muttering, “You’ good, pretty? Need some water?”

She shakes her head, “Mmm, no. Just want your hand, like when you rub my leg.”

He lets out another soft chuckle, his lips curving into a smirk. Taking another drag from his cigarette, he puts it out in the ashtray on the table, watching the smoke slowly leave his lips. Instead of putting his hand on her leg from under the table, he lifts her heel from beneath it, placing it along his lap as he begins rubbing the skin. 

“Like this?”

“Mhm,” she nods, “You’re such a sweetie to me. Look so handsome in your suit.”

“Nothing in comparison to your dress. You’re tryna kill me.” 

He looks around, seeing on the opposite side of the tables that a group of people stand around, dancing to the relaxing music a band plays not too far from the restaurant. 

He then asks, “When’d you open up that studio?”

“Not too long after we stopped talking,” she replies, playing with the straw in her glass, “My ex-husband always said my pottery business would never become more than chump change. So, I made myself a studio. Make decent money, too. I’ve never been so happy.”

“He‘s a fuckin’ idiot,” he comments, his voice coming out rougher. “Should’ve never doubted you. I’m proud as fuck of you, baby.” 

Something in his words makes her eyes twitch. It was like a damn breaking within a River, a sentiment she hadn’t felt before. Her eyes glance over to the people that dance, turning back as she reaches out for his hand, “Come dance with me?”

Despite having two left feet in his mind, there’s no universe in which he would ever turn down an offer to be close to her.

“Drink some water, then we can go,” he pulls the cup towards her mouth.

She waves him off, “I’m fine, Fushiguro. Jesus. I just feel a lil floaty, a cocktail did not put me on my ass. Everything just feels better at this moment, so I’m happy. Dance with me,” she repeats, standing as she yanks the larger man by his arm.

He doesn’t budge from his seat. With a sigh, she reaches for her water, sipping it heavily, watching as he then stands with a grunt, “Hard headed ass,” now pulling her to where the other couples stand, wrapping his fingers along her waist, satisfied with the way she brings her arms around his neck.

She can feel the way she presses all of her weight against him, so comfortable in his arms that his grip is the only thing keeping her from falling backwards. 

She sighs, “So, thirty-three—how do you feel about that age? Do you feel…accomplished in life?”

“Thirty-three’s cool,” he answers, his voice coming out lower, “I’m more interested in thirty-five. But at the moment, I got everything I need.”

“What’s everything to you?” 

The soft hum of music surrounds them, but all he can do is focus on her hair brushing against his skin, looking more captivating in the lights of the restaurant.

“I’m a business owner,” he replies, “Got a roof over my head, support in areas I need it. The only thing I’m missing is my stubborn ass woman to share that with.”

That sentence makes her clutch his suit a bit, unable to let the tipsiness that battles the sobriety of her mind ask questions she usually wouldn’t. 

She then asks, “Why do you want me, Toji? I mean—I have a kid, a shitty ex-husband to constantly deal with. Your life seems…nice. No turmoil, no one else’s baggage.”

“That’s your fuckin’ problem. You don’t see yourself the way I see you,” he grunts, his eyes looking almost darker as he continues to speak, “The way you ramble when you get excited, the way you laugh, the radiance you spread regardless of the shit you’ve gone through. You’re under my skin. You’ll be adding years onto my life.”

She blinks up at him, a sharp inhale quiet in her mouth at his words. She had been trying to push this man away all this time, and he wasn’t giving up. He had shown her an affection in close range that she’d never experienced before— there was no reason to be afraid of him. 

“…Solaya.”

She sees him raise an eyebrow, continuing as she says, “That’s…my real name. I don’t usually give it out—it’s a rarity,” she rubs her finger over his jaw, giving him a vulnerability she hadn’t given anyone else. 

Her words sink in, her name falling from her lips. She was giving him a part of her. He leans down to take in her scent—a mixture of the flowers surrounding them and that intoxicating vanilla. 

“I want you. I’ll chase you to the ends of the fuckin’ earth, Solaya.”

He grips her up more, her heels now coming along his shoes, twisting her around so that it makes her giggle, it being filled with so much sincerity. She leans her head up, pulling him down closer as she admits to him, “I want you too,” brushing her mouth along his jaw, her breath hitching at her own actions.

The moment he lowers his face, his mouth engulfs hers, trapping her within a kiss that made her feel like her head had been ducked in a bucket of water. His lips move with hers in a way that overpowers her mouth, kneeling her head back as he practically claims her within his actions.

Their lips move in sync, his hand gripping her jaw as he tilts her head back further, his tongue running along the flesh of her mouth. The air seems to suffocate them. 

She pulls him back, her face warm, pressing her forehead against his as she breathlessly giggles, “We’re in public, Fushiguro.”

It almost made him growl like an animal as he’s brought to reality—but he didn’t want to push. And to see the rush of blood on her cheeks, he pulls his mouth up to kiss her forehead as he grunts, “Let’s finish eating.”

Her comfortability now opened tenfold, talking his ear off in ways she’d never done before. He was there to listen to all of it. They’d finished their food, traveling back across the water where their villa met. She was now back to being full on tipsy, considering she had drunk some of his whiskey, knowing that the mixture would create an entirely different personality within her own. She was bold, talkative, and relaxed. Though, her feet did hurt. 

Toji had given her his socks so she wouldn’t walk along the ground barefoot, holding her heels and flowers in his free hand, his other holding hers. 

She grumbled as she took another step, “Ugh—fuckin’ expensive shoes should be comfortable.”

He stops walking, chuckling as the villa wasn’t too far ahead, “C’mere, pretty.”

“I’m fine—“ once again, she squeaks, unable to fight as he’s already swooping her up in his arms, now carrying her bridal style. 

“You don’t listen.”

He finally makes it to the door of the villa, tossing the keys along the nightstand close to it. She pressed herself back on the ground as she tossed the socks off her feet and took off, squealing, “I wanna see the sky tonight!” 

“You just wanted me to carry your sneaky ass, huh? Talking about your feet hurt.”

She finally gets to the balcony, pulling the doors as the cool night air brushes along her skin.  Night had come, the stars above illuminating the stars, and the moon glowing so beautifully that it was almost hypnotizing. With soft waves in the water, the breeze was just perfect.

She feels a clutch along the back of her dress, his voice husky as he states, “You’re gonna fall.”

“I’m fine,” she repeats, “Look at the moon!” She wraps his arms along her hips, wanting to feel his touch, “Isn’t it pretty?” She hums, leaning herself back against him, almost in the same position they were in earlier within the day.

“Ain’t as pretty as you, momma,” he mutters, nuzzling his face into her hair, taking in her sweet scent again.

“Being corny comes with the old man syndrome?” She questions, lightly laughing to herself, falling deeper into his chest.

He murmurs, “Being a smartass comes with that young woman syndrome?” His thumbs lightly caress against her skin, his breath fanning just beneath her ear.

She goes to answer—but the way his hands trail under the slit of her dress, wrapping his fingers along her inner thigh, she can’t seem to focus. 

The alcohol within her system has her trail her hand up behind herself, wrapping it to the back of his neck and pulling him down to where his lips meet her throat. 

“…I like when you kiss me here,” she says, her voice soft, quiet. 

He lets out a sharp inhale, his lips skimming along the skin of her throat, not yet making contact, “Where?” he asks, his voice low, “Here?” 

He presses his lips gently along the side of her neck, right along the flesh that she pulled him to. It makes her clutch him a bit tighter, the throb going in between her legs as her skin now feels sensitive to the touch. 

She nods her head, biting her lip lightly as she exhales, “…Yeah.” 

His lips continue to trail against that same spot, sucking and kissing against her neck lazily, leaving spots of red along her skin. He murmurs between kisses, “Talk to me. Tell me where else you’ want my mouth.” 

His touch was like no other, and the desire for him was aching at this point. It had been so long. She pulls her hair along one side of her shoulder as she leans forward a bit and whispers, “Lower…” 

His lips attach to the skin of her back firmly, “Yeah?” he asks, his voice low, “You want my mouth all over you, huh?”

Her body shudders as he presses his hand along her lower body, pushing her forward a bit so she has to lean against the balcony’s architecture. The straps of her dress are falling off her shoulders, revealing more of her back to him, her body almost tantalizing, moving like sultry choreography.

It’s almost as if something in her clicks, and she realizes that she’s along a balcony, the fear of someone seeing them giving her a reality check. It makes her face warm, her eyes fluttering open a bit as she turns back to him, “Toji—“

Her mouth clasps shut, his palms moving like fire as he pulls her dress up to her hips, yanking the lace of her thong, dragging his tongue up the entirety of her. She latches her palm along his hair, nudging herself forward as she stands on her toes, gasping all the air she had in her chest. She was speechless.

Her face screws up at the rush of pleasure that comes through, the feeling lost as she hadn’t been with anyone in months. She whimpers, “F—fuck. Wait—” 

“Been patient as fuck, baby. Just take it,” he tells her, his tongue slurping in between her folds, lapping her up like she was the last thing he’d ever eat. 

He groans deeply as his tongue delves between her thighs, savoring her taste and scent. He grips her ass firmly, kneading the supple flesh as he laps at her clit, growling against the heated skin.

Her back arches into him, her brain going fuzzy as her eyelids come together, the gasp that pulls from her lips nearly deafening, trying to push his mouth away as she whimpers, “We’re on the balcony, Fushiguro…” 

The sound of her whimper sends a jolt straight to his dick, already hard and straining against his pants. He doesn't care about the balcony; all he can think about is making her feel good. He continues his assault on her pussy, licking and sucking recklessly.

"You're fuckin’ drenched," he growls against her soaked folds, "Relax. Need you to gush in my fuckin’ mouth," His hands move to her hips, pulling her harder against his jaw as he devours her. 

He doesn't stop, can’t stop, his tongue swirls around her clit before sucking it between his lips, giving it a gentle tug.

Arousal drowning him within the ocean of her doesn’t feel like enough. He needs more. He spreads her apart, dipping his tongue deep inside her, the intrusion making her walls clench, Stoney slapping her hand along her mouth as she trembles out a moan. She feels him hold her thighs apart as he exposes her to the cool night air. The contrast only serves to heighten her arousal, and she cries out, her other hand flying deeper into his hair to keep him in place even as she tries to pull away. 

"Toji... please..." 

Toji's growl rumbles deep in his chest as he drinks in every drop of her, coating his tongue in her arousal. Her pleas, begging for release, only fuel his hunger for her. 

“Take your hand off your mouth,” he grunts in between, knocking his head side to side, his nose practically burying in between her legs. He’s almost drunk, intoxicated by her scent, loving the way she drips all over his face and jaw, wetter than she’d ever been for him.

She slides her fingers in between her lips, shaking her head as she whimpers, “Gonna be too loud.”

"I don’t wanna hear that shit," he snarls, his breath hot against her pussy as he sucks her clit back into his mouth, “Ride my fuckin’ face,” the vibrations sending shivers through her trembling body.

She bites down on her fingers, muffling her moans as best she could while still trying to ride out the intense pleasure coursing through her veins. Her thighs begin to quake, her toes pressing harder as she stands on the tips of her feet,  pushing her hips further onto his face, grinding herself against his eager mouth. 

His words are filthy, crude, but there's no mistaking the desperation in them. He needs this, needs her, more than anything. And judging by the way she's trembling, the way her juices are still dripping down his chin, she needs it too. But covering her sounds was starting to piss him off. 

He pulls his mouth back, Stoney feeling as he raises himself up, the intensity of her state keeping her body humming regardless of his missing touch. She’s too floaty to realize him wrapping his large arm around her neck, trapping her almost within a gentle headlock. She thought he was trying to kill her. 

His mouth is against her ear, heavily breathing within it, the sound making her heart pound in her chest. She’s unable to see but could feel the monster between his legs, her thighs immediately wanting to tighten as his pink tip nudged at her folds, stretching her out before he was even close to being inside. 

She’s already protesting, wanting to claw out of his hold, clutching her hand around the arm that holds her in place. He uses his free hand to slam his palm against her ass, Stoney shuddering out a gasp as she drags her nails against his skin, Toji tugging her even closer as he tsks, “Nuh-uh, quit all that,” sinking himself within her, bruising her walls in seconds, the sensitivity sending her in overdrive. She can feel her eyes welling with tears all too pleasurable, feeling as he locks his hips forward, dragging her ass back to clap against his abdomen, the sounds of her gushing like a faucet shocking to her own ears. She inhales deeply for seconds, shuddering out the craziest whine she’d ever heard come from her lips as tears fall down her face, feeling herself going into shock as she pushes back against him, squirting as if they’d been fucking for hours.

“Yeah? You’ cumming like that already?” 

He’s holding her in place, her eyes rolling to the back of her head, nearly breaking skin as she drags her nails down his arms, crying in repetitions, “I’m c—cumming, oh m—god,”  nearly wanting to be mad at him for the arrogant laugh that drops out his mouth. 

He growls into her ear, "You’re makin' a fuckin’ mess,” The wetness seeping down his dick making every thrust slicker, allowing him to plunge deeper each time he pulls his hips back, rocking them forward. 

He coos in her ear regardless of the loud noises she makes, “You’ cumming, baby? Yeahh, I hear it,” He grips her ass tighter, spanking her hard enough to leave marks, determined to keep her babbling.

She’s completely out of her mind. She thought about it often, having this pleasure again— it was embarrassing to see how much she needed it. Needed him. 

“Pussy missed me, baby,” he grunts in her ear, her eyes tightly shut as she groans, her skin bouncing against his hips sharply echoing within her mind, the cream of her arousal stickily spreading each time he thrusted in. It was creating more and more, she felt like she was going blind.

“Tryna’ keep her from me, who else is gonna fuck you like this?”

He’s in her brain, punctuating his words with each thrust. He leans in, capturing her ear as he kisses it, her whimpers and moans high pitched. He can feel her pushing back, sucking air into her mouth, her face caught into a frown from how good this all feels. He tightens his arm along her neck, coaching her through as he talks, "Doing good as fuck, momma. Take every inch.” 

His grip on her hips tightens, using the leverage to piston into her harder, faster. 

She reaches her free palm behind herself, pressing it along his hip and squeezing, whimpering immediately as he catches it, pulling the hand behind her back. She’s panting at that point, but giving no actual responses. He spanks her again, which drops a pleading moan from her mouth, rougher in fucking her as softly cries, “Baby…”

She’s just trying to get through the movements he gives her, feeling like she can’t. It’s too good. But it’s also unfortunate how badly he wanted to hear her voice. 

He releases her from that jail of a position, now possibly putting her in a worse one. He’s holding her upright as she now faces him, one leg draped over his shoulder, the other foot barely touching the floor. He’s got her pinned against the railing, her chest pressed against his, her throat constricted between his palm, needing her attention. 

“Put it in,” he grunts. 

Maybe she was right—he was actually trying to kill her. She attempts to pull his mouth down to kiss him, face warm as she didn’t want to keep seeing the stoicness of his expression. The scar on his lip twitches, as if he's amused by her shyness. He’s already slapping his tip against her clit, making her jump as she’s trying to catch her breath. 

She wraps her fingers along the tip, exhaling as she sinks herself down onto him, clutching the back of his hair as she pouts, “…You’re tryna make fun of me.”

He smirks at her accusation, enjoying the way she clutches his hair as she sinks down. He can feel every inch of her enveloping him, her walls clamping around his length as he arrogantly huffs, "Nah, just looking at your pretty ass face," pulling her hips back, tugging them forward, chuckling within her mouth, swallowing her desperate pleas as he tells her, “Fuck me. Take my dick however you want it.”

She’s breathless as she grinds herself against him—eyes fluttering shut, unable to handle his reaction to how she whimpered and whined for him. She was mewling at this point, her body pliant within his grip.

Her inhales are almost concerning, clasping him as if she feared that he’d let go of her. She rocks her hips down, pulling him up by his hair, pressing their foreheads together as she whimpers, “Nobody’s…ever made me feel this good…” 

Her words almost wreck him. 

Toji groans against her, his touch almost brutal as she pulls him closer. He feels the urge to have her all to himself, to be the only one to make her feel this way. To be the only one to take her apart.  

“Yeah? How good?” 

“So good,” her words are soft in cries as he latches his lips along her neck, “S—so good,” she repeats, mouth coming back up to his, breathless in her responses. 

Their lips press together gently, his hands moving to grip the back of her thighs in a possessive clench. He then takes her other leg to lift up, placing them both over his shoulders, Stoney quickly latching her arms around his throat, holding her fingers together in her palms. 

The sounds are filthy as he’s dropping her onto his dick, eyes rolling inside her mind to search for her sanity as they were in this tapout position, listening to the sound their skin makes together, Stoney’s mouth dragging out a desperate moan. 

“You heard me fuckin’ talking to you.”

 He circled back to his words earlier, balls becoming drenched with her arousal, squelching between their skin as the back of her thighs clap along his abdomen. 

He repeats, “Who is else is gonna fuck you like this, huh?” 

A hard thrust comes at the emphasis of his word, bottoming out inside of her, holding her close as she claws to be freed from him. She drags her nails within his back, pitiful in her sounds as she breaks,  “Ohshi— fuck, baby—” she’s gasping, “I don’t know.”

"Don't know?" He mocks, punctuating each word with even more hard, deep thrust, “You know.”

He leans in, his hot breath ghosting over her ear as he growls, "Pussy been mine, you’re too fuckin’ hard headed,” Another brutal thrust, his hips snapping up to meet hers, "And you love it, don't you?"

She’s sobbing at this point, too full of a deadly pleasure he fills within her veins, knowing just how she wanted to be fucked. She cracks, shuddering out whines as she nods, “Love it so much, baby, f—fuck. Take your pussy, baby. Fuck me. Please. Please…”

She pulls him closer, pressing their foreheads against one another as she softly says, “Missed you so much, Toji…” she’s hiccuping, her tears fluttering her eyes, seeming like they came from more than just pleasure. They were honest.

At her whispered confession, something shifts in Toji's expression. The lust is still burning in his eyes, but there's an underlying tenderness, a depth of emotion he rarely allows himself to show. He cups her face, thumb brushing away a tear as he murmurs, "Missed you too, momma. More than you know,” His voice is rough with unspoken feelings, the admission heavy in the air between them, tension being cut each time her clit gets a rush of pleasure from how deep he plunges inside of her. 

He holds her gaze, the intensity of his emotions palpable. Then, without warning, he captures her lips in a searing kiss, pouring all those hidden sentiments into the passionate embrace. His tongue delves deep, claiming her mouth as thoroughly as he claims her body. 

"I'm never letting you go again," he declares, his voice thick with conviction.

She gasps at his words, clinging back to his hair again, pulling him lower as she sighs, “I’m so sorry, I…” Her abdomen tightens, fighting against her words, “I’m cumming, I need you…”

At her desperate plea, Toji's resolve crumbles. He knows he should slow down, savor this moment, but the urgency in her voice is too powerful to resist. With a primal growl, he reclaims her mouth in a bruising kiss, burying himself so deep within her, she screams, attempting to cover her mouth, Toji snatching her palm, clutching her jaw back into his mouth, allowing her to fall apart against his lips.

As she gushes against him, Toji loses himself entirely, his own release rushing in a way he didn’t expect. He pounds into her, chasing his own pleasure with low moans as he drinks in her cries of ecstasy. The sound of skin slapping against skin, their ragged breathing, and her broken moans fill the room, creating a symphony of raw, uninhibited passion.

Toji finds his peak, his vision going white as wave after wave of pleasure crashes through him. He buries his face in the crook of her neck, muffling his moans of release against her skin as he pours everything he has into her. His eyes meet hers as she finally opens them, a look of vulnerability that shows the craving is mutual. His hips jolt, still pulsating inside her, prolonging their shared climax as he reaches up to clutch her hair in his fingers, pulling her mouth against his, forcing her into a nasty kiss. He wasn’t planning for her to go anywhere, and she wasn’t planning on going anywhere. He was gonna fuck her as many times as she wanted it, adore her as many times as she needed it—she was his. And so he did. 

Again, again, and again. 

[incorrectbatfam]

One thing I rarely see in injury and chronic pain fics is the grief that comes with missing out on stuff you love because you can no longer do them without hurting yourself. Writers who have been disabled their whole lives (or at least a long time) tend to forget that not all disabled people are used to being disabled. For able-bodied characters, especially athletic ones like vigilantes, a serious injury could mean a jarring change that includes giving up the things that mean the most to them.

I was physically fine until I was 18. Back then, my sense of self was entwined with interests that required a lot of movement and dexterity. I started doing MMA in middle school for self-defense. I loved parkour and even had a few hundred subscribers on my old YouTube channel. I learned to shoot and was gifted my first gun when I was 16. I took up multiple instruments. You get the idea.

My motorcycle accident fucked up the joints on my left side—my knee and shoulder especially, but also wrist to an extent. When it first happened, I thought I'd be on crutches for a bit but things would eventually get back to normal. The pain didn't go away even after I got rid of the crutches but I figured it was just residual and I should do what I'd been doing before. It's why I turned to substances—to block the pain and do what I love, but that's another topic. I didn't recognize my injury as a disabling thing until the end of the pandemic, when I put my parkour channel on an indefinite hiatus because it was seriously wearing my body down. It might sound silly to you but I was devastated. It's like if Spider-Man wasn't allowed to swing from buildings. It took me a long time to make peace with losing that part of me.

Another piece of that grief is even when you can do stuff, it's not the same because you have to exclude certain aspects of it for your own health. It's like the Robin that died and came back wrong. I can't use certain gym equipment and I have to tell my sparring partners what to avoid. I don't go to the shooting range much now because I can't extend my arm and hold a rifle for the amount of time it takes to aim without it starting to hurt. I'm a drummer, but I need breaks throughout the setlist and I can't do anything too fast or complex with the pedals, which means I can't play some of my favorite songs and my band is limited in what we write and perform. I can't take my motorcycle on road trips without frequent rest stops. Making accommodations helps physically, but emotionally, they're not always easy to accept because that means accepting the pain as a long-term disability rather than a temporary setback.

This got super long because I think it's unexplored in fics so some tips for creators:

First, learn how the body works and how stupidly fast and easy it is to get hurt. Mine was on a residential road because I didn't pay attention for 0.2 seconds

Learn the difference between internalized ableism and being upset over becoming disabled. I think a lot of writers skip over the feelings someone would naturally experience because it can be construed as ableism. Let them be in denial, sad, angry, etc. upon finding out because acceptance almost never happens right away. That's different from being a dick to themselves or others based on disability

Also, not everyone uses the same labels or has the same vocabulary to describe themselves. Different characters will have different ways of describing depending on their personality, level of knowledge, where they come from, and their relationship with their disability. I still don't really call myself disabled since I don't have it as bad as others so I tell people what happened instead (anyone who says "differently abled" will receive a different ability from me in the Denny's parking lot)

Think about how they cope with their new disability. Do they realize it's a disability right away? Do they talk to someone? Search desperately for a cure? Numb the pain? Turn to alternative methods? Do they worry about something else first, like money? Do they develop something else because of it, like a mental illness? Again, coping poorly is not ableism

What stays the same and what changes? I think about the difference between Forrest Gump and Lieutenant Dan after they were both wounded in battle

If they have a passion they can no longer pursue, it doesn't make much sense for them drop it so readily. Maybe they find a way to continue with accommodations (a good place to get creative!). Maybe they try and push through anyway. If they do ultimately resign, include the thought process and internal conflict behind it

[morganbritton132]

Adding onto Steve's crime spree from this (and this and this)

Eddie has determined that he's not asking the right questions in life.

Is he questioning the man? Yes. Every day.

Is he asking Wayne for help when his van shits the bed on Thursday? No. When his van is still unusable come Saturday, did he ask his friends if he could catch a ride to band practice? No.

Did he ask if he could get a ride home? Also no.

It's raining and Eddie regrets his life choices so hard, he doesn't notice the Porsche 928 until it blows through the crosswalk he was about to step onto. He's hit with a tidal wave of frigid early November street water because, of course, he is.

"Fuck's sake," Eddie swore, pushing his wet hair out of his face. In his perphery, the Porche slams on its breaks and rolls back into the crosswalk beside him, but he barely notices. Talking to the driver, the world, or god, Eddie does not know when he rants, "Thanks! Thanks for that, I really need pnumonia. Thanks for bestowing-"

"Sorry, man," Steve says, an apologetic wince sticking out of the open window of the Porche. "Wanna ride? I can take you where you're going."

Eddie looks at the car, then at Steve, and then back at the car and signs, "...Fine, but only because this car is beautiful and not to expunge your guilt."

"Dude, I don't think a sponge is going to help."

Eddie rolls his eyes but sticks his guitar in the trunk before sliding into the passenger seat. He has to physically stop himself from touching everything. He's never even seen a Porche before, wow.

Steve's in the driver's seat looking like he's dying for Eddie to ask about the car so he can talk about it. Honestly, Eddie wants to ask about the car. He probably should have asked about the car but instead, he shakes the water out of his hair like a dog as payback.

"C'mon, man," Steve complains, wiping the water off his face. "Watch the leather."

Eddie gives him directions and then bites the bullet. He asks the wrong question, "You trade in the Beamer?"

"No way. That's my baby," He says. "I'm just borrowing this lady."

The conversation is actually nice. None of Eddie's friends know anything about cars but Steve seems to know a lot. He can almost forgive the guy for being a jock and the psychological warfare he's bestowed onto Eddie's brain the past week and a half, but then-

“It sounds like - shit," Eddie says, echoing the same sentiment as Steve at the sight of flashing red and blue lights in the rear view. A question he should've been asking all along occurs to him, "Did you steal this car?"

Steve gives him an annoyed look and then rolls down his window, smiling that All-American smile, "Heya, Hop. Didn't think you were working today."

"This car was reported stolen."

Eddie swears, sinking into the leather with the hopes that it eats him. Steve doesn't even hesitate, "Let me guess, Mrs. Woolledge? Crazy she knows what all her neighbors are doing but not that her kid's on dope."

Hopper doesn't say anything and the silence is loud so Steve adds, "It's not stolen. It's my dad's car. I have permission."

"From your dad?" Hopper asks, getting an annoyed nod from Steve. "Same dad that's out of town?"

"Well, Hop. There's this thing called a phone."

"You get that MRI...right? Throw the keys out the window," Hopper says. Eddie's mentally preparing on how he's going to explain this to Wayne when he calls from jail. Steve protests. Hopper demands, "Throw. The keys. Out. The. Window. Now."

Steve seems to realize that he's pushing his luck because he does just that. He even gets out of the car when Hopper tells him to. Hopper tells him to get in his truck and Steve straight up lies, "Hop, I'm taking my friend home. We're working on a school project together. At his house.”

Eddie curses Steve's entire bloodline from start to finish when Hopper lookings directly at him still in the car, "That true?"

Say no. Say you don't know him. Say you know nothing. Say anything but, "Yes."

"What subject?'

"History," Steve says at the same time Eddie says 'Art' and then rolls his eyes, "Art history, yeah?"

Hopper nods like he thinks they're full of shit and then tells them both to get in his truck.

Steve protests but more about leaving the car on the street than anything else while Eddie briefly thinks about the psychic his mom used to know. He wonders if she could curse someone for real. Maybe he can call her from jail.

He's fully ready to see the police station that he fails to realize where Hopper's going until they’re in Forest Hills. He turns and looks at both of them and says, "I'd like to know what grade you get on this project."

"Aye, aye, Captain," Steve says with a salute, pulling Eddie out of the car. Once they're inside, Steve peaks out the blinds like, "Yeah, he'll sit there for a while. He thinks I'm lying. Wanna smoke?"

Eddie is baffled, "No."

"Okay," Steve shrugs and flops down on the couch. He pulls a set of keys out of his pocket and adds, "Spare key. We just gotta wait until he's gone and can circle back for your guitar."

The only thing Eddie can think is, “what the fuck” and he doesn’t even know which part he’s talking about.

[kingofthewilderwest]

Viola is the most gorgeous-sounding instrument on the planet, but how I became a violist in music school is one of the dumber sets of circumstances I’ve had in music life. You’ve heard of the violinist to violist pipeline? Get ready for… another level beyond THAT.

Guys, I’m a flautist.

And I’m not, like, a slouch on flute? I’m no queen toot toot but I know which end you blow out of. In high school, I was competitive. Nothing extraordinary, but I did all the honor ensembles and made first chair flute All State Orchestra. Ahhh, the memories! XD

I came into my freshman year of college as a philosophy and linguistics double-major, then quickly realized I NEEEEDED formal music again. I was crawling up the walls. I was writhing on the floors. I was ready to eat wallpaper. I was prepared to do anything to get back into the music world.

So in my sophomore year I added music composition as a degree.

I auditioned in with piano and flute as my mains. In addition to the private composition lessons, I was signed up for private piano lessons (flute slots were limited to people getting a degree in flute - understandable enough).

But then came ensemble requirements. Something you’d think would be the easiest and most flexible thing to take care of. This was a good school. Please, not Curtis or Julliard or a conservatory or something, but a good school. We had LOTS of ensembles. Easy peasy lemon squeezy, grab an ensemble and go, right?

Naw.

To graduate, we had to enroll in one ensemble every semester. You couldn’t double up to complete the requirement faster and it had to be on your primary instrument. I was already at a disadvantage because I was doing the degree in three years. Thankfulllly, thankfully, the administration gave me an exception and allowed me to double up for credits.

Didn’t solve all my issues, though. Because here’s the thing: everyone in the flute studio could play circles around me. A composition major without flute instruction is not going to be able to compete with a performance major learning from some of the best people in the country.

So. By their own rules. I could neither get lessons on my primary nor would I have the chance of auditioning into a single ensemble on my primary.

This meant the only ensemble I could get into was the non-audition, lowest tier band. And because there was marching band during fall semesters, that meant the lowest tier band only met in the spring. So that gave me… 3 out of the 8 ensemble credits I needed on my primary.

And I’m looking at the administration, like, “Dudes, you have to work with me. Not getting my degree because I can’t get a few 1 credit ensemble courses is bat guano.” But my other primary, piano, was even more limited for ensemble credit options. What to do? What to do?

Well. In high school. I had a viola teacher. Sort of. I mean, I dated her. She offered to teach me viola during the summers, I paid her a little cash, and we more often than not paid attention to the viola before paying attention to other matters.

Humorous description aside, we were classmates in the same grade. We just happened to make a viola lesson arrangement within our broader relationship. This wasn't the only time we made such arrangements; I later taught her younger sister flute. And like, lessons were a convenient way to meet regularly without our families cuing in on our non-viola relationship.

We had a nasty falling out. So nasty. We were dumb. I was dumb. Don’t need to get into details. But I got two summers’ worth of viola lessons out of this and I owned a cheap@$$ viola I bought secondhand for $100 USD.

So. With my grand total of less than a year of “formal” [cough] viola instruction, where I could barely aim my bow at the correct string, I suggested This Great Music College should accept viola for my ensemble credits. Then I could enroll in the non-audition orchestra. Which, unlike its band counterpart, DID meet every semester. So, between the 3 ensemble credits for band and the 6 ensemble credits of orchestra, I COULD get my required 8+ credits acquired.

This plan was agreed upon.

So now I’m a flautist officially turned violist. A viola-approximate pestilence they can’t get rid of. Every semester they have to hear my yowling and know this is the grave of their own making. We must lie in it. I am second desk viola, not because of merit, but because I’m a music major, and I guess that meant I got preference. I did their optional chair auditions, they accepted that as "good enough," now here I am near the front. I am not where I should be. At all. Last year I was playing the flute solo of Dvorak's Eighth. Now I'm on Dvorak's Eighth near the front of the violas. What.

My problems were ended, though, right? I got what I wanted, right?

Well. There’s one final stupidity in this venture.

You see..... my “viola teacher.” My ex-partner. My now-turned-enemy. Had also enrolled in this college.

And was our section leader.

[00valentina-writes00]

On and Off the Ice

Synopsis: Dating Violet had always felt like a whirlwind—an exhilarating mix of confidence, chaos, and heart-stopping tenderness. As the star hockey player of Piltover High, she’s used to being the center of attention, both on and off the rink. But beneath her cocky grin and varsity jacket is someone fiercely protective, painfully loyal, and quietly vulnerable—someone who surprises you every day. From stolen moments in the locker room to after-hours skating dates under dim lights, being with Vi means navigating the highs and lows of teenage love: defending each other from bullies, learning t o trust in moments of vulnerability, and realizing that love isn’t just about grand gestures—it’s about the quiet ways you hold each other up when no one else will.

Warnings:

• Mild violence (fistfights, hockey injuries, tense confrontations)

• Flirting from third parties and minor jealousy themes

• Brief language (Vi has a mouth on her)

• Lots of softness hidden under layers of teen angst

• Sexual content

(Note: This story includes fluff, a pinch of angst, and a whole lot of protective girlfriend energy.)

•||——————————————————————||•

The roar of the crowd is deafening as you sit perched on the edge of your seat, your hands clenched around a steaming cup of hot chocolate. Piltover High’s rink is alive tonight—students packed shoulder to shoulder in the stands, stomping and chanting Vi’s name like it’s the only word they’ve ever known.

And there she is.

Violet. Your Violet.

She’s a blur of magenta hair, sharp turns, and calculated aggression as she skates past two opposing players, juking them out so hard one of them stumbles and eats ice. The puck is a silver streak as it sails from her stick and past the goalie’s outstretched glove, slamming into the back of the net.

GOAL.

The crowd loses it. The band strikes up the school fight song. Vi skates backward with her hands raised, smirking up at the stands until her eyes lock on yours. She points at you with her stick, then taps the tattooed “VI” on her cheek for emphasis. Your cheeks burn, and you’re grateful for the chaos masking how flustered she always makes you.

“She’s so damn cocky,” a voice mutters next to you, but it’s laced with admiration.

You glance over to find one of her teammates’ sisters sitting nearby, shaking her head with a grin. “Tell me about it,” you reply, but you can’t help smiling. She’s earned it.

When the game ends in a crushing victory for Piltover High, you find yourself waiting by the locker room doors, holding a paper bag of her favorite post-game snack: a massive soft pretzel covered in salt and cheese. It’s something you’d started bringing her after her first win during your relationship, and now, it’s practically sacred.

The door swings open, and Vi is the first one out, still in her pads but missing her helmet. Her grin stretches from ear to ear, damp strands of magenta hair sticking to her forehead.

“There’s my good luck charm,” she says as soon as she spots you.

“Good luck? Please. You were already a badass,” you tease, handing her the bag.

She takes it and immediately pulls out the pretzel, ripping a bite with her teeth. “Badass or not, I play better when I know you’re watching.”

Her teammates file out behind her, laughing and jostling each other, but their teasing stops when they see the two of you.

“Aw, Vi’s got her snack date,” one of the guys calls out.

“Careful, she might actually start smiling like a normal human,” another chimes in.

Vi flips them off without missing a beat, her mouth still full of pretzel. “Jealous much? Your girl bring you a snack? Oh wait.” She feigns an exaggerated look around before smirking at the teammate who’d made the comment.

The guy groans, waving her off, and they all shuffle away, leaving the two of you alone.

You and Vi walk home together, her arm draped loosely over your shoulders. She’s still buzzing from the game, recounting every play in vivid detail, her energy practically radiating off her.

“—and then did you see that block? I thought that asshole was gonna nail me into the boards, but nope! Too slow. And the look on his face when I scored after? Priceless.”

You laugh, tucking yourself closer to her side as the wind picks up. “I saw, Vi. You were amazing.”

“‘Course I was.” She winks, but there’s a soft blush on her cheeks that has nothing to do with the cold.

As you pass under the glow of a flickering streetlamp, she notices the way you shiver, your jacket pulled tight but still not enough to fight the chill.

“Shit,” she mutters, stopping in her tracks. Before you can ask what’s wrong, she shrugs off her varsity jacket and drapes it over your shoulders.

“Vi, you’ll freeze,” you protest, though you don’t try to give it back.

“Please,” she scoffs, flexing her arms with a smirk. “You think these guns can’t handle a little cold? I’m fine. You, on the other hand, look like you’re about to become a popsicle.”

You roll your eyes, but the truth is, the jacket smells like her—a mix of leather, sweat, and the faintest hint of mint gum. You can’t help but pull it tighter around yourself, and Vi grins like she knows exactly what’s going through your head.

“You’re ridiculous,” you mutter, shaking your head.

“And you’re adorable,” she shoots back without missing a beat, leaning in just enough to make your breath hitch. “But you knew that already.”

The walk back to your place is filled with banter, her teasing keeping the mood light. As you reach your door, she leans casually against the frame, her tank top clinging to her skin from the cold.

“You gonna invite me in, or do I have to freeze out here?” she asks, a playful lilt in her voice.

“You’re the one who gave up your jacket,” you point out, unlocking the door.

“Yeah, because I’m chivalrous like that,” she says, stepping inside after you. “And because I can’t let my girl turn into an icicle. Can’t have that on my conscience.”

Inside, she collapses onto your couch, sprawling out like she owns the place. Her long legs stretch across the cushions, and she watches you with that same cocky grin as you set her pretzel bag on the coffee table.

“You’re way too comfortable here,” you tease, plopping down next to her.

“Should be. It’s basically my second home,” she says, pulling you into her lap like it’s the most natural thing in the world. Her arms wrap around your waist, her hands resting on your hips. “And you… you’re my favorite part of it.”

Her tone is playful, but there’s a flicker of something deeper in her eyes—a softness she rarely lets anyone see.

“Wow, that was almost romantic,” you tease, brushing a stray strand of hair from her face.

“Almost?” she asks, her voice dropping an octave as she leans closer.

“Yeah, you’re gonna have to try harder if you wanna impress me.”

“Oh, I’ll impress you,” she murmurs, her lips brushing the shell of your ear. “I’m already planning on scoring my next goal—you just tell me what the prize is gonna be.”

Her words send a shiver down your spine, but you roll your eyes, refusing to give her the satisfaction of a blush. “How about bragging rights?”

“Bragging rights?” she repeats, mock-offended. “Nah. I want something better. Maybe a kiss. Or two. Or ten.”

Her hands slide down to your thighs, her touch firm yet gentle as she gazes up at you with a crooked grin. “What do you say, babe? Think you can handle rewarding me properly?”

You bite back a laugh, shaking your head. “You’re impossible.”

“And you’re stuck with me,” she counters, leaning in to press her lips to yours, soft but insistent.

~~~

The cafeteria at midday was a zoo. The roar of chattering students echoed off the linoleum floors, and the acrid smell of reheated spaghetti filled the air. You navigated the crowd carefully, tray balanced precariously in your hands. Across the room, Vi lounged in her usual spot—a corner table near the window where the hockey team had claimed dominion. She looked every bit the queen of her domain, legs sprawled out under the table and arms slung casually over the back of her chair. Her magenta hair was still damp from her morning workout, strands sticking up in unruly spikes.

Her laugh carried over the din, a low, rich sound that always made your stomach flip. You caught her smirking at something one of her teammates said, the sharp edge of her tattoo catching the sunlight streaming through the window. As you approached, Vi’s light gray eyes locked on you, her grin spreading wide.

“Well, if it isn’t my favorite distraction,” she drawled, scooting over and patting the empty space beside her on the bench.

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the smile tugging at your lips. “That’s one way to greet your girlfriend.”

Vi leaned in, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “I could think of other ways, but I’m trying to behave. For now.”

You huffed a laugh, nudging her with your elbow as you set your tray down.

The moment you sat, one of Vi’s teammates—some freshman you couldn’t remember the name of—leaned forward, blatantly checking you out.

“Damn, Vi, how’d you snag someone like that?” they asked, flashing a toothy grin that made your skin crawl.

Vi’s smirk dropped instantly. Her sharp gaze shifted to the offending teammate, and her voice cut through the air like a blade. “Careful, rook. That’s my girl you’re talking about.”

The freshman raised their hands in mock surrender, laughing nervously. “Alright, alright. No harm meant.”

Vi didn’t respond, but her arm slid around your waist, pulling you closer. The possessiveness in the gesture was clear, but there was also a quiet reassurance in the way her fingers traced idle patterns on your hip.

You glanced up at her, catching the flicker of irritation still simmering in her eyes. “You know you don’t have to defend me every time someone’s an idiot, right?” you murmured.

Her lips quirked into a softer smile, but her voice was firm. “Yeah, well, I don’t like idiots thinking they can talk to you like that.”

You sighed but leaned into her touch anyway, letting her protectiveness wrap around you like a shield.

Later, as you were walking to class, another girl—a sophomore with a reputation almost as bold as Vi’s—sidled up to her.

“Hey, Vi,” the girl cooed, twirling a strand of hair around her finger. “You coming to the party on Friday? I heard you’re single again.”

Vi didn’t even break stride, her hand finding the small of your back as she guided you through the hallway.

“Not single,” she said, her voice clipped but polite. “And not interested.”

The girl blinked, clearly taken aback. “Oh. Well, if you ever change your mind…”

Vi cut her off with a sharp laugh, glancing down at you with a wink. “Not happening. I’ve got everything I need right here.”

The girl scowled, muttering something under her breath before stalking off.

You raised an eyebrow at Vi. “Everything you need, huh?”

“Damn right,” she said, grinning as she leaned down to brush her lips against your ear. “Though, if you wanted to sweeten the deal later, I wouldn’t complain.”

You shoved her playfully, but your cheeks burned all the same.

The tension hit its peak during lunch a few days later. You were sitting beside Vi, absentmindedly picking at your food, when a particularly smug classmate decided to make their move.

“Hey, Vi,” they called out from the next table over. “Didn’t know you were into charity cases.”

The words hung in the air like a slap. Your stomach twisted, and you felt the heat rising in your cheeks. Before you could even process what was happening, Vi was on her feet, her chair scraping loudly against the floor.

“What the fuck did you just say?” she snarled, stalking toward the classmate.

The smirk on their face faltered, but they held their ground. “Relax, it was a joke.”

Vi didn’t relax. If anything, her shoulders squared, and her hands curled into fists at her sides. “Say that shit again, and I’ll make sure you’re eating lunch through a straw.”

“Vi!” you hissed, grabbing her arm. “It’s not worth it.”

Her jaw clenched, but she allowed you to pull her back, the fire in her eyes still blazing.

The classmate muttered something under their breath, but they didn’t push their luck any further.

By the time the final bell rang, Vi was in detention, and you were still fuming. When she showed up at your house that evening, her usual cocky demeanor was noticeably absent.

You opened the door to find her standing there, one hand clutching a hastily assembled bouquet of wildflowers and the other holding a pack of your favorite candy.

“Before you say anything,” she started, her voice unusually soft, “I know I fucked up.”

You crossed your arms, trying to ignore the way your heart softened at the sight of her sheepish expression. “Vi…”

She held up the bouquet like a peace offering, a small, self-deprecating smile tugging at her lips. “Look, I know I shouldn’t have lost my temper, but they were talking shit about you. I couldn’t just stand there.”

You sighed, stepping aside to let her in. “It’s not about standing up for me. It’s about knowing when to pick your battles.”

She nodded, setting the flowers and candy on the kitchen counter. “I know. I’m sorry. I’ll do better.”

Her sincerity was written all over her face, and it was impossible to stay mad at her.

“You’re lucky you’re cute,” you muttered, a small smile breaking through your stern expression.

Vi’s grin returned in full force. “Damn right I am.”

She closed the distance between you in a few quick strides, her hands finding your hips as she leaned down to kiss you. The kiss was slow and deliberate, a silent promise of her devotion.

When she finally pulled back, her gray eyes were warm and full of mischief. “So… am I forgiven? Or do I need to beg a little more?”

You laughed, swatting her shoulder. “You’re forgiven. For now.”

“Good,” she said, scooping you up into her arms with ease. “Because I’ve got a lot of making up to do.”

As she carried you to the couch, you couldn’t help but feel grateful for the wild, fiercely loyal girl who’d stolen your heart.

~~~

The faint hum of your desk lamp cast a warm glow over the cluttered surface of your bedroom, illuminating a scattered array of hockey gear, notebooks, and half-written essays. Vi sat cross-legged in your chair, a pen stuck behind her ear, and her signature smirk plastered on her face like she wasn’t teetering on the edge of failing her English class.

You leaned over her shoulder, scanning the barely legible sentences she had scrawled out in her rough, jagged handwriting. The title at the top of the page read: The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzjerald. You bit back a groan at the misspelling and turned to look at her, raising an eyebrow.

“Fitzjerald?” you teased, your lips twitching into a grin. “I know English isn’t your strong suit, but come on, Vi. You literally had the book right there to copy from.”

She shrugged, leaning back in the chair and propping her feet on your desk with zero shame. “Hey, close enough, right? My teacher’s too busy drinking coffee to notice shit like that. Besides, it’s not like I’m writing the damn thing for an award.”

“You’re writing it to pass,” you reminded her, plucking the pen from behind her ear and playfully tapping it against her forehead. “And if you fail, you’re benched for the next game. You really wanna sit there while Ryan screws up every shot?”

Vi winced at that, letting out a groan of protest. “Ugh, don’t remind me. The last time she tried to take a slap shot, she nearly took out the water cooler.”

“Exactly,” you said, shoving her feet off your desk and sliding into her lap without a second thought. Vi raised an eyebrow at your bold move, her hands instinctively landing on your hips.

“You know,” she began, her voice dropping into that familiar low, teasing tone, “I think this is the kind of motivation I needed. Keep sitting like this, and I might actually start paying attention to what a metaphor is.”

You rolled your eyes, even as your cheeks warmed. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

“And yet, you like me anyway,” she shot back, leaning in close enough for her breath to tickle your neck.

You tried to ignore the way her lips brushed against your ear as you refocused on her paper. Her handwriting was a mess, but you managed to decipher enough of it to see where she had gone wrong. “Okay,” you said, shifting your focus to the task at hand. “First of all, it’s ‘Gatsby,’ not ‘Gaspy.’ Second, your entire first paragraph is just you ranting about how you think Daisy is annoying. That’s not exactly analysis, Vi.”

“But she is annoying,” Vi argued, her hands tightening on your waist as she tilted her head back to look at you. “Seriously, she spends the whole book whining about how hard her life is.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at her blunt honesty, shaking your head. “Fair point, but you still need to back it up with evidence from the text.”

“Evidence, huh?” Vi’s gray eyes sparkled mischievously as her fingers started to trail up your sides, dangerously close to distracting territory. “Maybe I need some hands-on tutoring to really get the hang of it.”

“Vi,” you warned, though your voice came out more amused than stern.

“What?” she asked innocently, her lips ghosting over your jawline. “I’m just saying, you’re really good at motivating me. It’s practically a public service.”

You tried to keep your composure, but it was a losing battle. Vi knew exactly how to get under your skin—literally and figuratively. Her hands slipped down to your thighs, squeezing gently as she leaned in closer, her lips brushing against the sensitive spot just below your ear.

“Vi,” you repeated, your tone a mix of exasperation and affection. “We’re supposed to be working on your paper, not—”

“Not this?” she interrupted, her voice a low murmur as her lips trailed down your neck, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake.

You let out a shaky breath, your resolve wavering as her hands slid under the hem of your shirt, her touch warm and teasing. “You’re such a distraction,” you muttered, though you made no move to stop her.

“And you love it,” she shot back, her lips curling into a smirk against your skin.

Her hands drifted lower, slipping beneath the waistband of your pants with a confidence that sent a shiver down your spine. You tried to focus on the stack of notes in front of you, but Vi’s touch was impossible to ignore.

“Vi, seriously,” you said, though your voice lacked any real conviction. “If you fail this paper, I’m not bailing you out.”

“Relax,” she said, her tone laced with amusement. “I’ve got this under control.”

You raised an eyebrow at her, clearly unconvinced. “Oh really? What’s a symbol, then?”

Vi paused, her lips hovering just above your collarbone as she considered your question. “Uh… like… a thing that stands for another thing?”

You groaned, smacking her lightly on the shoulder. “You’re hopeless.”

“Hopelessly into you,” she countered with a grin, earning herself another playful smack.

Despite her antics, you couldn’t help but smile at her. Vi might have been a pain in the ass sometimes, but she had a way of making even the most mundane moments feel electric.

“Alright, fine,” you said, leaning back just enough to look her in the eye. “If you can write a halfway decent paragraph about Gatsby’s green light, I’ll consider forgiving you for being such a pain.”

Vi’s eyes lit up with determination, and she reached for the pen you had been holding. “Deal. But don’t think I’m letting you off the hook either,” she added, her voice dropping into a playful growl as she pressed a kiss to your jaw.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” you replied, unable to keep the grin off your face.

As Vi turned her attention back to her paper, you couldn’t help but feel a surge of affection for her. Sure, she was a handful, but she was your handful—and that made all the difference.

~~~

The hallway is loud and alive with the buzz of students between classes—shouts of friends across lockers, laughter, and the occasional clatter of someone dropping their books. You’re standing at your locker, minding your own business, when it starts.

“Hey, heard you’re dating Vi,” a sharp voice cuts through the noise.

You glance over your shoulder to see them—three of them, to be exact. The self-proclaimed queens of drama, all armed with smirks and matching sneers. You feel the tension in your shoulders immediately, a gut feeling telling you this won’t end well.

“Is that even a thing? You know, dating Vi?” another one pipes up, twirling a strand of overly straightened hair.

You roll your eyes, shutting your locker with a deliberate slam. “What do you want?”

The tallest one steps forward, crossing her arms. “Just trying to understand what’s going on. She’s not exactly… girlfriend material, is she? More like someone you hook up with and then pretend didn’t happen.”

The others laugh like it’s the funniest thing they’ve ever heard, and your hands curl into fists at your sides. You know Vi’s reputation precedes her—a bad girl, a player, a bit of a hothead—but they don’t know her like you do.

“Maybe you should keep her on a leash,” another one snickers, leaning against the lockers like she owns the place. “You know, so she doesn’t find someone else to mess around with.”

“Say that again,” you snap before you can stop yourself, voice sharp and full of anger.

“What’s going on here?”

The voice behind you makes your heart drop and rise all at once. Vi steps into view, her presence like a thundercloud rolling into a sunny day. She’s wearing her hockey jacket, the collar popped, hands stuffed in her pockets like she’s daring someone to test her patience. Her gray eyes are locked on the group in front of you, a dangerous glint sparking to life.

“Oh, look, it’s Vi,” the tall one says, her smirk faltering for a second before she doubles down. “What, here to play hero for your little—”

“Finish that sentence, and I swear to god, you’ll regret it,” Vi growls, stepping closer.

The girls shift uncomfortably, glancing between each other, but their leader doesn’t back down. “What? You’re gonna hit me? Right here, in front of everyone?”

Vi’s jaw tightens, and you can see the way her hands twitch in her pockets, itching to do something. “Maybe I will. Might finally shut you up.”

“Vi,” you say softly, reaching out to touch her arm. She doesn’t look at you, her eyes locked on the group like a predator stalking prey.

The leader rolls her eyes, feigning confidence. “What’s your problem, anyway? We were just talking to your little plaything here.”

And that’s the moment. That’s when Vi snaps.

She pulls her hand from her pocket and slams her fist into the locker next to the girl’s head. The sound is deafening, metal denting under the force, and the entire hallway goes silent. Gasps ripple through the crowd that’s gathered to watch, and the girls stumble back, faces pale.

“Next time you say something like that,” Vi says, her voice low and full of venom, “it won’t be the locker.”

“Alright, alright!” one of them stammers, grabbing the leader’s arm and tugging her away. “We’re going!”

As they scurry off, you exhale a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding. The hallway slowly returns to normal, students whispering and casting glances your way as they disperse.

Vi turns to you, her hand still clenched into a fist, her knuckles already swelling. “You okay?”

“I’m fine,” you say, voice softer than you mean it to be.

She nods, her jaw still tight, and you know better than to push her right now. “Let’s get out of here.”

Back at her place, the tension in the air is thick. Vi’s pacing, her fists clenching and unclenching at her sides, while you sit on her bed with the first aid kit open beside you.

“Sit,” you say firmly, and she finally stops, collapsing onto the edge of the bed with a frustrated groan.

She doesn’t look at you as you take her hand, turning it over to inspect the damage. Her knuckles are red and raw, already bruising, and you can’t help but wince.

“You’re lucky you didn’t break anything,” you mutter, grabbing a clean cloth and some antiseptic.

“Don’t care,” she mumbles, staring at the floor.

“Clearly,” you shoot back, dabbing at her knuckles gently. She hisses but doesn’t pull away.

The silence stretches between you, heavy and awkward, until she finally speaks. “I’m sorry.”

You pause, looking up at her. “For what?”

“For… losing it. For embarrassing you. For not being able to keep my shit together,” she says, her voice low and full of guilt. “I just… I can’t stand it when people talk about you like that.”

You set the cloth down and cup her face, forcing her to meet your eyes. “Vi, you didn’t embarrass me. And I’m not mad at you. I’m… I’m grateful, okay? For standing up for me.”

Her eyes soften, the storm inside them calming just a little. “I just hate that they think they can say shit like that. About you. About us.”

“Let them talk,” you say with a shrug. “They don’t matter. You do.”

Her lips twitch into a small smile, and she leans into your touch, her forehead resting against yours. “You’re too good for me, you know that?”

“And yet, here I am,” you tease, pressing a soft kiss to her cheek.

Her hands slide around your waist, pulling you closer until you’re practically in her lap. “You’re the only good thing I’ve got.”

“Don’t be so dramatic,” you say with a laugh, but your heart flutters at her words.

“Not dramatic,” she murmurs, her lips brushing against your neck. “Just honest.”

Your breath catches as her hands wander, and for a moment, all the tension, the anger, the hurt—it all melts away, leaving just the two of you and the quiet promise of better days ahead.

~~~

The faint hum of fluorescent lights buzzes overhead as Vi leads you through the back entrance of the rink. You’re not sure what you expected when she showed up at your place with that crooked grin and her car idling in the driveway, but the last thing on your mind was this.

The arena is quiet, a far cry from the deafening chaos of game nights. The chill in the air seeps through your jacket, making you shiver as Vi flips on a row of lights, flooding the empty rink with a soft, golden glow. The ice glimmers, smooth and untouched.

Vi turns to you, her hands jammed into the pockets of her oversized hoodie. “Figured you’d get a kick outta this,” she says, her voice casual, though you catch the flicker of nervousness in her eyes. “It’s kinda my second home, y’know? Thought I’d share it with you.”

You blink at her, a little caught off guard by the gesture. “You broke us into the hockey rink? Is this supposed to be romantic or just mildly illegal?”

She smirks, that signature cocky expression slipping easily onto her face. “Why can’t it be both?”

“Fair point,” you concede, fighting the grin tugging at your lips.

She bends down, pulling out a pair of skates from a duffel bag she’d brought along. “Hope you’re ready to bust your ass, though,” she teases, tossing you a pair of skates. “You can skate, right?”

You hesitate, holding the skates like they might bite you. “Define ‘can.’ If it involves flailing around like a baby deer on a frozen pond, then sure, I’m a pro.”

Vi barks a laugh, the sound echoing in the empty arena. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’ll catch you if you fall.” She winks, her gray eyes sparkling with mischief, and your stomach does a little flip despite yourself.

Minutes later, you’re on the ice, and you weren’t kidding—you’re terrible.

Your legs wobble uncontrollably, your arms flailing as you try to stay upright. Vi skates backward in front of you, one hand on your hip, the other gripping your hand firmly to keep you steady. Her movements are fluid and effortless, the years of practice evident in the way she glides across the ice like she was born to it.

“Relax,” she says, her voice low and soothing, a stark contrast to the usual cocky tone you’re used to. “You’re too stiff.”

“I’m on ice, Vi,” you snap, though the panic in your voice undermines the bite. “Being stiff is the only thing keeping me alive right now.”

She laughs again, the sound warm and rich, and it annoys you how much you love it. “You’re fine. Just trust me.”

You shoot her a dubious look, but her grip is steady, her touch grounding. Slowly, reluctantly, you let her guide you, her hands shifting as she maneuvers you across the ice.

“See? Not so bad,” she murmurs after a while, her breath puffing out in little clouds in the cold air.

You’re about to argue when your skate catches on something, and you stumble forward, yelping. True to her word, Vi catches you, her arms wrapping around your waist as she steadies you.

“Careful there, Bambi,” she teases, her breath warm against your ear.

You groan, mortified, as you clutch at her shoulders. “I hate you.”

“No, you don’t,” she counters, her grin smug. “You love me.”

She says it like a joke, but there’s something in her tone that makes your heart skip. You look up at her, and for a moment, the teasing fades. Her gray eyes are soft, her usual bravado tempered by something quieter, something vulnerable.

Your breath catches, and suddenly, you’re very aware of how close you are, the heat of her body a stark contrast to the chill in the air.

“Vi…”

“C’mon,” she says quickly, breaking the moment. She takes your hands again, pulling you back upright. “Let’s try that again, yeah?”

By the time you’re done, your legs feel like jelly, and you’re pretty sure you’ve pulled muscles you didn’t even know you had. Vi helps you off the ice, her arm slung casually around your shoulders as you hobble toward the bench.

“You didn’t do too bad for a newbie,” she says, handing you a water bottle.

You glare at her, still catching your breath. “I fell six times.”

“Yeah, but you only face-planted twice. That’s improvement.”

You snort despite yourself, shaking your head. “You’re impossible.”

She grins, leaning back against the bench. “You love it.”

You roll your eyes but don’t deny it.

For a while, you sit in comfortable silence, the stillness of the rink wrapping around you like a cocoon. Vi leans forward, her elbows resting on her knees, and you catch her glancing at you out of the corner of her eye.

“What?” you ask, your brow arching.

“Nothing,” she says, but there’s a faint flush creeping up her neck, barely visible under the golden light.

You tilt your head, studying her. It’s rare to see Vi flustered—usually, she’s all cocky smirks and bold one-liners. The sight of her like this, vulnerable and uncertain, tugs at something deep inside you.

“Vi,” you say softly, scooting closer to her. “What’s going on?”

She exhales, running a hand through her magenta hair. “Look, I know I can be…a lot,” she admits, her voice quieter than usual. “But I—” She stops, her jaw tightening like she’s struggling to find the right words.

You reach out, your hand covering hers. “Hey,” you say gently. “Take your time.”

Her eyes meet yours, and for a moment, she looks like she’s about to bolt. But then she sighs, leaning back against the bench.

“I just…I really like you, okay?” she blurts out, her cheeks turning an adorable shade of pink. “And not in the ‘hey, you’re hot, let’s make out’ kind of way—though, you know, I wouldn’t say no to that either.” She smirks, though it’s more nervous than cocky. “But, like…you’re different. You make me wanna be better, y’know?”

Your heart swells, and you have to fight the urge to tackle her right then and there. Instead, you lean in, resting your forehead against hers.

“Vi,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper. “I like you too. A lot.”

She blinks, clearly surprised, and you can’t help but laugh at the expression on her face.

“What? Did you think I’d come out here in the middle of the night and risk breaking my ass on the ice for just anyone?”

Her grin returns, brighter than ever, and she closes the distance between you, her lips brushing against yours in a kiss that’s equal parts sweet and electric.

When you finally pull away, you’re both grinning like idiots, the world outside the rink forgotten.

The moment Vi’s front door slams shut behind you, her hands are on you, pulling you in with a hungry, primal urgency. Her lips crash against yours, and the taste of mint gum and adrenaline courses through your mouth. Her teeth graze your bottom lip—a small tease that sends a shiver down your spine. You stumble backward, but she steadies you, her strong arms wrapping around your waist as she deepens the kiss.

“Christ, you’re fucking addictive,” she mutters against your lips, her voice low and rough like gravel. Her hands slide up your back, fingers fumbling with the clasp of your bra. She growls in frustration when it doesn’t give way immediately, and you can’t help but laugh into her mouth.

“Impatient much?” you tease, tugging lightly at the silver hoop in her ear.

She pulls back just enough to flash you that signature cocky grin, her light gray eyes glinting with mischief. “You try being patient when you’ve got this in front of you.” Her hands drop to grip your hips, squeezing possessively. “Now, come on, upstairs before I lose my damn mind.”

You don’t argue. Not when she’s looking at you like that—like she wants to devour you whole. The two of you barely make it up the stairs without tripping over each other, her lips finding yours again halfway up. By the time you reach her bedroom, your shirt is already off, tossed somewhere behind you, and her hands are working on your jeans.

Vi kicks her bedroom door shut with her foot, the lock clicking into place. Her room is exactly what you’d expect from her—messy, chaotic, and full of personality. Hockey sticks lean against the wall, mismatched socks litter the floor, and posters of bands you’ve never heard of cover the walls. But you barely have time to take it all in before she’s pushing you backward onto her bed.

Her hands are everywhere now, tracing the curves of your body with a kind of reverence that makes your breath hitch. She straddles you, leaning down to capture your lips again, her kisses softer this time but no less intense. Her tongue slips into your mouth, teasing and exploring, and you moan softly into her, your hands gripping the fabric of her tank top.

“God, you’re so fucking beautiful,” she murmurs, pulling away just long enough to yank her own shirt off and toss it aside. Her muscles ripple under her skin, the tattoos and scars telling stories of battles fought and won. You run your fingers along the dark gray ‘VI’ on her cheek, and she smirks, catching your hand and pressing a kiss to your palm.

“Like what you see?” she asks, her voice dripping with confidence.

“You know I do,” you reply, arching an eyebrow. “But aren’t you supposed to be doing something about it?”

Vi chuckles—a low, throaty sound that reverberates through you. “Oh, I’m gonna do plenty about it.” Her hands move to your chest, cupping your breasts through your bra before finally freeing them from the flimsy fabric. She leans down, her lips brushing against your collarbone, then lower, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. When she takes one nipple into her mouth, sucking gently, you let out a shaky breath, your fingers tangling in her choppy magenta hair.

“Fuck, Vi…”

She hums appreciatively, switching to the other breast. Her tongue flicks over your nipple, and you squirm beneath her, the heat between your legs growing more insistent. Her hands slide down your sides, stopping at the waistband of your jeans. With practiced ease, she unbuttons them and yanks them down, tossing them onto the floor with the rest of your clothes.

You’re completely exposed now, and her gaze rakes over you hungrily. “Jesus Christ,” she breathes, her voice cracking slightly. “You’re perfect.”

Before you can respond, she’s kissing her way down your stomach, her lips soft yet demanding. Each press of her mouth leaves a lingering warmth, and by the time she reaches the edge of your panties, you’re trembling with anticipation. She hooks her fingers under the fabric, dragging them down slowly, and you lift your hips to help her.

And then she’s there, her breath hot against your most sensitive spot. Her eyes meet yours, and there’s a wicked gleam in them that makes your heart skip a beat. “You ready for me?” she asks, her voice husky.

“Yes,” you whisper, your voice barely audible.

That’s all the encouragement she needs. Her tongue drags through your folds in one slow, deliberate stroke, and you gasp, your head falling back against the pillows. She repeats the motion, each lick sending sparks shooting through your veins. When she circles your clit, flicking it with the tip of her tongue, you whimper, your fingers gripping the sheets.

“You taste so fucking good,” she groans, her words muffled against you. Her hands grip your thighs, holding you open as she works you relentlessly. Her tongue is skilled and relentless, alternating between gentle licks and firm pressure until you’re writhing beneath her, desperate for release.

“Vi… please…”

She hums again, the vibration making you cry out. Her pace quickens, her tongue swirling around your clit as her fingers slide inside you, pumping steadily. The combination is overwhelming, and you feel yourself teetering on the edge, your breaths coming in short, ragged gasps.

“Come for me,” she orders, her voice rough and commanding. And just like that, you shatter, your body convulsing as pleasure floods through you. She doesn’t stop, drawing out every last wave of ecstasy until you’re boneless and spent.

When she finally pulls away, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, she looks up at you with a smug smirk. “Told you I’d ruin you.”

You laugh breathlessly, still trying to catch your breath. “Yeah, yeah. Don’t get cocky.”

She crawls back up the bed, hovering over you with a playful glint in her eye. “Who, me? Never.” Her lips find yours again, and you can taste yourself on her tongue—a fact that only makes you want her more.

“Your turn,” you murmur against her lips, your hands sliding down her toned abdomen, pausing at the waistband of her shorts. “Let me—”

She catches your wrist, her smirk widening. “Uh-uh. I’m not done with you yet.”

Her hand slides between your legs, fingers grazing your slick heat once more. You gasp, arching into her touch as she teases you, circling your clit with a maddening lightness. “Thought I told you—I’m going to ruin you tonight.”

“Vi—”

~~~

You wake up slowly, the warmth of Vi’s bicep under your head a comforting weight. It’s the kind of peaceful moment you hadn’t realized you needed. The kind where time feels like it’s been put on pause, just for a few minutes, so you can breathe. You feel her chest rise and fall beneath you, the rhythmic pulse of her heart, steady and strong. You know she’s awake; you can feel her body slightly tensing, but she doesn’t move.

Vi never moves when you’re comfortable, even if she’s stuck. Even if her arm is trapped under your weight, and her body is probably begging for a shift. She won’t wake you. Not until you stir.

Her grip on you isn’t tight, but it’s firm, like she’s making sure you’re there, as if she might lose you the second she blinks. You never thought you’d be the kind of person to fall for someone like Vi. But here you are, head on her arm, wrapped in the warmth of her embrace.

You smile to yourself, stretching your legs out lazily, feeling the way her muscles shift beneath you as you move. She doesn’t flinch, just hums quietly, her voice low and rough from sleep.

“D’you know how cute you look when you’re all cuddled up?” she murmurs, her voice thick with sleep, and a little playful. “I could just… y’know, keep you here forever.”

You chuckle softly, your breath tickling her skin as you shift, just enough to meet her eyes. Vi has the kind of look that makes you want to stay forever, too. Her hair is messy, some strands falling into her eyes, and she’s too stubborn to bother fixing it. She looks so damn unbothered, so… Vi. And it’s perfect.

“You’re not gonna wake me up just to stare at me, are you?” you tease, smirking.

Vi raises an eyebrow, her lips curling into that half-grin that always makes your stomach flip. The one she wears when she knows she’s about to say something that’ll have you questioning whether you’re about to get flirted with or threatened.

“You make it sound like I only stare at you when I’m about to do something mean,” she says, her grin turning mischievous. “I just like watching you when you look like you’re about to drift off into a world of dreams. Makes me think maybe I’ve got some kind of power over you.”

“Right,” you snort, rolling your eyes, but there’s a smile playing on your lips. You’ve never felt safer, more secure in someone’s arms. “If you have ‘power’ over me, I’m in trouble.”

Vi’s laughter is a deep sound, the kind that vibrates through your chest as she pulls you closer. Her arm slides under you, coaxing you to snuggle closer to her side, her hand gently cupping the back of your head. Her fingers thread through your hair, absentmindedly tugging at the strands. It’s a gesture so simple, but it sends a thrill through you every time.

“You’re always in trouble with me, baby,” she says, her tone low, teasing. “But I’m okay with that. You’re worth the trouble.”

Your heart skips a beat, and for a moment, you’re at a loss for words. You’ve heard Vi joke about her feelings before, but something about the way she says it now—so easy, so sure—hits you like a freight train. She’s not joking. She means it. She’s always been the kind of person to keep her feelings close to her chest, to make jokes out of everything to hide her vulnerability. But right now? She’s open. She’s letting you in.

“You know, you’re not so bad when you’re not causing chaos,” you tease, poking her in the side. Vi’s grin widens, but there’s a softness in her eyes that you’ve never seen before, a quiet kind of affection.

She shifts slightly, making sure you’re tucked comfortably against her side, not letting you slip away. Her hand rests on your hip, fingers tracing lazy circles over your skin. “Maybe I’m not so bad when I’ve got the right company.”

You shift again, this time to look her fully in the face. Vi’s eyes meet yours with an intensity that makes your breath catch in your throat. That mischievous glint is still there, but it’s softened, replaced with something deeper. Something you’ve seen before but never this raw, never this obvious.

“I’m serious,” she says, her voice barely a whisper. “I never thought I’d get to… feel this way, you know? I’m not the type for this mushy stuff, but when you’re around, it’s like everything else fades. Just you and me.”

You swallow the lump in your throat, your chest tight, emotions swirling in your stomach. Vi never says things like that. Not unless she means them.

“You’re hopeless,” you whisper, your voice thick with affection. “Completely in love with me, huh?”

Vi smirks, her lips brushing your forehead in a soft kiss. “You wish, babe.”

But even as she says it, there’s no hiding the truth behind her eyes. The way her hand tightens around you, almost protective, like she’s afraid to let go. And it hits you then, all at once—Vi’s completely, utterly in love with you. And for the first time, you realize it’s not just the kind of love that comes from adrenaline and rough edges. It’s not the kind that fades after a week or a few laughs. It’s real. The kind of love that sticks.

You reach up and cup her cheek gently, tilting her face towards yours. She doesn’t protest, just lets you guide her, her eyes softening, pupils dilating.

“You know, you can’t hide that from me forever,” you tease, grinning as she shifts uncomfortably under your gaze. “I’m pretty sure you’re head over heels.”

Vi scoffs but there’s no bite to it. She pulls you closer instead, her lips hovering near yours. “Fine. Maybe I’m hopeless. Maybe I’ve been completely wrapped up in you for longer than I want to admit.” She pauses, her eyes searching yours as if looking for something. “But that doesn’t mean I’m gonna be all sappy about it.”

You laugh softly, pressing your lips to hers in a slow, tender kiss. The kind of kiss that makes the world outside feel like it doesn’t exist. Like there’s only Vi, and there’s only you, and nothing else matters.

When you pull back, Vi’s expression is unreadable for a moment, like she’s trying to figure out what just happened. Her hand slips from your waist to the back of your neck, pulling you into another kiss, a little deeper this time. She’s not shy with her affection, not with you.

“Maybe you’ve got a point,” she mutters against your lips. “Maybe I am in love with you.”

You smile against her mouth, letting her kiss you for as long as she wants, before you pull back, eyes sparkling with that familiar mischief. “I thought you said you weren’t sappy.”

She chuckles, rolling her eyes. “Shut up, smartass. I don’t do mushy, alright?”

“Sure, sure. Whatever you say, tough girl,” you tease, your voice dripping with amusement. “But you know you’re stuck with me, right?”

Vi smiles, a genuine, soft smile that makes your heart melt. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

The moment lingers between you two, quiet and intimate, as if the world outside has ceased to exist. For once, everything feels right. You’re exactly where you need to be. And, for the first time in a long while, Vi’s walls are down. She’s not hiding, not pretending. She’s giving you all of her, every piece of her, and there’s no going back.

You’re not just in love with her. You’re both growing, changing, and figuring out just what it means to be together, and you know one thing for sure: No matter what comes next, you’re not going anywhere.

And neither is she.

[steddiewithachance]

I'm Here on Business

Wayne is a regular at the bookstore Steve works at and badgers Steve into going on a blind date with his kid.

For @extocancer Happy New Years!!! I hope you enjoy your presents ◡̈

***

It's a quiet night in the little bookstore on the corner of Brinks and Williams. Steve is sitting behind the check-out counter flicking the leaf of a potted pothos placed next to the register. Soft music plays from the radio behind him.

Steve likes taking the evening shifts at the shop just to see the place warmly lit up by all of the eclectic and ornate lamps that Amber, the owner, has collected. The store doesn't give him migraines from obnoxious fluorescent light, which has been an issue at previous jobs.

Ever since Robin moved out of their apartment for Grad school, it's been upsetting to be at home alone at night. Without her company, the couch feels longer. And without her unhinged apartment decor, the walls feel taller and colder. Consequently, Steve has taken on more work hours instead of being home.

Plus, he has kind of fallen in love with reading. It came as a shock to him that he could enjoy it as much as he does. It started when his all-female team of coworkers began ranting to each other about these romance novels they were all into. He felt a little left out and decided to give one of them a try. It turns out that reading was actually a really great coping mechanism for dealing with his temporary loss of Robin.

The nicest, and most surprising thing to come out of this job though, is probably Wayne. A one-time customer turned regular, turned tentative friend for Steve. He's got a caring, parental energy that Steve's own parents never had.

The guy looks like he'd have a gruff or standoffish personality. His face naturally rests in a frown and he's got receding grey hair. He wears a flannel every day without fail; he's got a million different colors of them and Steve has even made a game of predicting which one he'll be wearing when he comes in.

"Did ya guess right today, boy?" Wayne will ask.

"No," Steve often admits glumly. "The universe told me you'd be wearing your green and blue one."

So anyway, Wayne comes around a lot to make small talk. He often mentions how he misses his son, Eddie. He's so stiff with personal information about his kid, but one time he let it slip that Eddie was on tour with his band. Steve had a field day afterward colluding with Google to find out exactly who Wayne's son was.

Eddie Munson, lead singer and guitarist of rock group Corroded Coffin.

Steve hadn't heard of ‘em but they certainly have a following. He listened to some of their stuff, to give himself some context for the next time Wayne brought up Eddie's music. It was nice enough, the guy has a good voice.

Steve's been waiting for Wayne to come in tonight. He's later than usual and it would be ridiculous for Steve to worry about a man who probably just thinks of Steve as that one kid who works at the bookstore. He may not come in at all tonight, and that would be fine too. Steve's still holding out on him pulling up in his... yellow flannel.

Steve's about to cave and start the next book in the current series he's reading when the door jingles. Wayne pushes inside in his mother fucking yellow flannel.

"Yellow Flannel!" Steve exclaims. Wayne chuckles and drops a book on the counter followed by a receipt.

"You got me right today?" Wayne asks fondly.

"Yup. It's been a while. I was aching for a win." Steve starts returning Wayne's book for him without giving him slack this time. Wayne treats the store like a library and Steve doesn't have the heart to tell him it's not allowed.

"Was this book any good?" Steve throws Wayne's receipt back at him and starts moving around the counter to put it back on the shelf for some other historical fiction lover to purchase.

"It was just alright." Wayne follows behind him languidly, eyeing the rows of colorful book spines for something that catches his eye. "But actually I'm here on business tonight."

Steve leans on the shelf and waits impatiently for Wayne to tell him what sort of business he's on.

"I think you ought to go on a date with Eddie. I think you two'd compliment each other."

Well, that's... not what Steve was expecting to hear.

"That's business to you? You came here to set me up on a blind date with your famous kid? I think he's gonna be a tad underwhelmed by a bookstore employee, Wayne." Steve's not gonna lie, he's a little intrigued by the prospect of dating a musician. He read a romance novel about one, not that long ago. Concerts, greenroom intimacy, targeted lyrics: Steve could be into it, in theory.

And ultimately, Steve did see photos of Eddie on Google and he's attractive. He looks good holding a guitar.

"He's gonna be home for a while so I figured now's a good time. Just go on one date. He's a big softie, you'll like him." Wayne pulls a book off the shelf and squints to try and read the title. He holds it further from his eyes before giving up and pushing it back into its slot.

"What happens if he doesn't like me? Will you still come around?" Steve runs a nervous hand through his hair. It wouldn't be the end of the world if Wayne stopped showing up, but it would probably hurt a little. It might fan the flame of his fear of abandonment.

"Of course, unless you break his heart. I know where you work, young man." Wayne pats his shoulder good-naturedly.

"Okay old man, you need my number to hand off?"

***

A day later, when Steve feels his phone buzz against his thigh, his instincts already know who it is. His heart gives that anticipatory squeeze he often gets before a first date with someone he finds attractive.

The text reads:

Hi Steve, this is eddie. Wayne swears we're soulmates. Wanna get dinner on friday?

It's a funny text to receive out of nowhere. Steve doubts Wayne actually used that word, but he imagines that Eddie is probably getting more of an earful than Steve got about this whole blind date. He also wonders what kind of person calls their dad by their first name.

Hi Eddie. I'd love to get dinner on Fri and discuss our soulmate status. I'm pretty sure he expects us to be married by the end of the night. Should I bring my tux? Also do you have a time and place in mind?

The master of puppets (Wayne) suggested we go to Maggiano's, are you okay with Italian? 8 maybe??? Tux optional but I think I will not be wearing one.

Haha. That sounds good Eddie, it's nice to hear from you. I'll see you soon.

***

Steve has to ask Amber to change his shift for Friday to work in the morning instead of the evening.

"Steve has somewhere other than work to be on a Friday night? Unheard of!" She slaps her palms down on the book display she was laying out.

"I know. I'm surprised too." Steve fiddles with his lanyard and gives her a 'please say yes' smile. She sighs.

"Yeah, I'll cover you. You can take my morning slot."

"Thank you! I owe you, boss."

***

When Friday arrives, Steve has the nervous jitters. It's been about a year since his last date, it didn't go very well. He's flattered that Wayne thinks highly enough of him to set him up with his kid.

Steve picks up a few small gifts for Eddie on his way home from work. He always brings his first dates a little something. He likes to see the way their faces light up. He thinks maybe he should get Eddie something music-related. So he walks into a little music store he's never been in and asks for small gift ideas for guitarists. He walks out wearing a smile, and hoping Eddie digs what he bought him.

And he's all smiles and confidence until he pulls up to the restaurant at eight and realizes he didn't send a confirmation text this morning. That's like, a rule, right? What if Eddie doesn't show up?

Steve steps out of the car and is equally anxious and relieved to find him leaning artfully against the restaurant near the front door with his hands in his pockets.

His curls are haloed by the warm light spilling out of the restaurant window. He's wearing a dark button-down with the sleeves rolled up to reveal tattoos on his forearms. And yeah, okay, he's hot.

The fact that Steve's going on a date with someone sort of famous hasn't fully sunk in. He's not sure he needs the added nerves though. He approaches as casually as possible and smiles when Eddie looks over.

The man does a double-take when he sees Steve. His eyebrows shoot up and he pushes off against the wall to stand straighter.

"Hi, Eddie?" Steve steps up onto the curb with a little wave. Eddie gives him a thorough once over.

"Oh, damn. Hi." He pulls a hand out of his pocket to shake Steve's.

Eddie is pretty up close. He's got long eyelashes and a bridge of little freckles across his nose. Steve notices all the little details that the on-stage photos didn't capture. He wonders if Wayne described what he looked like to Eddie who was at an informational disadvantage.

"I don't know what I was expecting you to look like, but my uncle didn't mention you were model pretty." Eddie tucks one of his big curls behind his ear and then steps forward to open the door. Steve's face gets warm at being called "model pretty", but he's terrible at taking compliments. He tries to redirect the conversation.

"Your uncle?" Steve asks.

"Wayne? My uncle?" Eddie motions towards the open door and follows after Steve once he's inside.

"Oh. You know he tells people that you're his son?"

Eddie's face softens and he scratches at his cheek. "Oh. Yeah well, I basically am. Maybe I should start calling him dad, I don't know."

"We don't take walk-ins." The hostess of the restaurant announces, breaking up their small talk. Steve looks over to see a tall woman with a slicked-back ponytail mad-dogging them. She has a cold demeanor, she kills the mood with one look between them. Steve knows the look, he's sure Eddie does too.

"Good to know! I have a reservation, though." Eddie responds.

"What's the name?" The woman pulls her iPad closer to herself like a shield.

"Munson." Eddie glances at Steve nervously.

"Hm. I don't see it." She pretends, tapping around meaninglessly. Eddie is getting agitated and maybe embarrassed too. He's scratching at his arm, unsure of how to proceed. First dates are already so awkward, especially blind ones. And if there's one thing about Steve, it's that he's gonna try to lighten the mood.

"Don't you know who he is?" Steve asks offendedly. Eddie whips around to look at Steve with wide, panic-filled eyes. The hostess raises an eyebrow and looks more closely at Eddie. It makes Steve chuckle. "I'm just kidding, let's go get burgers or something." He grabs Eddie's hand and pulls him back out the door.

"Holy shit, you scared me. I didn't know you knew who I was." Eddie has a hand on his chest and a wild grin. "She definitely didn't."

"I was just messing around. She did not want to seat our gay date." Steve sticks his hands in his pockets and then remembers Eddie's gift. "Oh but hey! I got you something."

Steve pulls out a nice bar of chocolate and a little tin of black pearly guitar picks. He offers them to Eddie with an open palm.

"Oh, what? You didn't have to do that." Eddie grabs them eagerly and slides open the tin. "This is so nice! How'd you know I've been needing picks? Now I feel doubly bad about dinner falling through."

"Hey, if I'm honest, sit-down dinner dates kind of give me anxiety. Too much pressure to keep the conversation going." Steve pulls out his keys, "You like burgers?"

Eddie huffs dramatically. "My palette is far too sophisticated for greasy burgers, Steve. I'm a chicken nugget man, obviously."

"That makes sense. You look like one." Steve teases. Eddie pouts.

"I'm taking that as a compliment."

"If you want nuggets we can just walk down the street. Unless you want me to drive?" Steve points in the direction of the row of fast-food restaurants.

"Yeah, let's walk."

Steve slowly turns and starts walking, glancing invitingly over his shoulder.

"So you know me." Eddie rattles the tin of guitar picks and looks a little worried by the prospect that Steve is some sort of fan.

"Only through your uncle, really. And maybe a short Google search. Sue me." Steve holds up his hands guiltily.

"Oh yeah, Wayne's my marketing manager. I send him out to spread the good word."

"Well I don't know who you've been instructing him to market to, but he's spending all his time in my store making me read book summaries to him because he conveniently forgets his glasses every time he comes in." Steve deadpans. Eddie chuckles and shakes his head knowingly.

"Yeah, It's this new long-con form of marketing. We decided to go all in for just one new fan." Eddie's got these sweet little dimples on either cheek when he smiles.

"Kinda worked, I dunno. I'm charmed by the Munsons." Steve and Eddie are veering towards each other as they walk. They're set to collide like two little asteroids. When they do end up bumping shoulders, it's soft. They stay close after that.

Steve hears a truly horrible sound coming from a bar a few meters ahead of them.

"Oh shit! Karaoke bar!" Eddie exclaims and speeds over. Eddie stands in front of the fenced-off patio and looks in while someone butchers Guns N' Roses. He looks absolutely delighted.

"What, you want to go show off in front of these poor, tone-deaf drunkards?" Steve rests his arms on the little fence and leans forward. Eddie vehemently disagrees.

"God no, I just like hearing all the very talented Midwestern voices." Eddie wiggles his eyebrows to express his sarcasm. "In other words, I enjoy making fun of bad music. I'm only human."

They sit there and give each other pained looks at the bad voices for a few minutes until someone starts trying to drunkenly stumble over the verse to a Nicki Minaj song and then Eddie drags Steve away in anguish.

"Can't take it anymore, Steve. Spare me."

***

The two of them have a good rapport, Steve thinks as they sit on a curb and share a big box of chicken nuggets. Maybe Wayne was right. It's playful. He can see how Eddie and Wayne share a handful of mannerisms and a sense of humor.

"Let's intertwine our arms like newlyweds do when they drink champagne," Steve says with a ketchup-covered chicken nugget in his hand. He wraps an arm around Eddie's and then takes a bite. Eddie follows his lead and giggles.

"I didn't know they did that. I've never been to a wedding." Eddie swallows and reaches for his soda.

"What? Never?"

Eddie shakes his head and looks up at the night sky. It's too cloudy to see any stars, unfortunately.

"My tux is in the car, by the way, should things pan out tonight." Steve jokes.

"I think they're panning." Eddie winks and leans in slightly.

"Oh yeah? Have I lived up to Wayne's description of me?" Steve bats his eyelashes and gives Eddie a sweet little smile.

"You've exceeded it, sweetheart." Eddie picks up Steve's hand and presses a chaste kiss to the inside of his wrist. Steve's heart jumps. When Eddie pulls back, he doesn't pull back far.

"Do you ever kiss on a first date?" Eddie whispers and squeezes Steve's hand. He glances at Steve's lips.

"Mmm, I could be persuaded." Steve feels a heady rush at the fact that he has somehow won the interest of a successful musician who probably meets loads of people every day. Steve reaches forward and tugs at one of Eddie's loose curls. He twists it around his finger and looks up with big doe eyes.

The tension is cut from Eddie's body when Steve looks at him like that. The move has a pretty good success rate at this point. And it doesn't fail him tonight. Eddie rests a hand on the base of Steve's neck. He strokes his thumb back and forth against the hollow of Steve's collarbone and leans in slowly.

Eddie's warm lips press against his own gently, experimentally. Their lips make a sweet sound when the suction is broken and Eddie's immediately reseal against Steve like he's irresistible. It's been forever since Steve kissed anyone, especially anyone worth kissing. He forgot how sweet and floaty it feels.

The hand on Steve's collar slides up so it's lightly holding his neck, it feels quietly possessive. It makes Steve's face heat up. Eddie's free arm wraps around Steve's waist pulling him closer. He lets himself be pulled.

Eddie starts getting more confident and hums softly when Steve weaves a hand into his long hair.

Steve could keep this up for hours, he wants to. But as dark as it is, he doesn't love the idea of continuing this so out in the open. He pulls back with regret.

"Damn, how are you not already taken?" Eddie wipes at Steve's shiny lips with his thumb.

"How are you not already taken? You're the accomplished one." Steve counters, squeezing one of Eddie's knees.

Eddie gathers their trash around them and stuffs it into the paper bag. "Well, I'll be home for a while if you'd want to do this again sometime. I can take you to a nice restaurant next time, I promise." He stands to throw away the trash. "Damn, I don't want the night to be over..."

"It doesn't have to be, you're welcome at mine." Steve leans back on one of his hands and bats his eyelashes up at Eddie.

"My New Year's resolution was to not do first date hookups, though."

"We don't have to, just come hang out." Steve holds an arm out to be pulled up to his feet from where he’s still sitting on the curb.

"Oh, yeah okay. You want me to?" Eddie pulls him to his feet with more force than necessary. It sends them both stumbling and giggling.

"Obviously I want you to."

***

The walk back to the restaurant is much faster than it was at the start of the night. They regretfully have to split at the parking lot, each having their own ride.

"Wait, call me so we can still talk on the way there." Eddie requests before jogging off to Wayne's truck. There really isn't much need to talk on the phone since Steve lives so close, but it's kind of cute that he wants to. Steve hits the call button on Eddie's contact.

"Hello, to whom am I speaking?" Eddie asks in a formal, over-the-top voice.

"This is Steve Harrington. I'm contacting you regarding your car's extended warranty." Steve backs out of his spot and waits for Eddie to do the same before driving out of the parking lot.

"Oh wow, what a coincidence. I was just wondering if my car had an extended warranty." Eddie always plays along, he digs into all of Steve's jokes and finds his own spot to grow there.

Steve drives slower than he normally would so that he doesn't get separated from his date. Eddie doesn't appreciate the sentiment.

"You drive like a grandpa. Has anyone ever told you that?" Eddie laughs and honks his horn. Steve hears it both over the phone and from his window.

"I'm only driving slow so we don't get separated, asshole."

"There's barely anyone on the road tonight to separate us, but it's fine, Steve. I value your safety. Drive at your comfortable geriatric pace."

When they pull up to a red light, Eddie instructs Steve to roll down his window so they can stick their hands out and play Rock Paper Scissors. Steve is so distracted watching Eddie's hand through his side mirror that he misses when the light turns.

"It's green, honey," Eddie alerts him softly through the phone, and Steve apologizes.

He's smiling real big the whole way there and when Steve eventually gets out of the car, Eddie comes up and grabs him from behind.

Eddie plants a few eager kisses on the side of Steve's neck. "You're fun, Steve."

"I'll show you real fun some other time." He jokes and pulls Eddie towards his place.

As soon as Steve opens the door to his apartment, he feels self-conscious about how dull it looks inside. Eddie looks around quietly. His eye catches on a picture of Steve and Robin.

"That's my best friend, Robin." Steve clarifies, just in case Eddie reads it wrong like dates have in the past.

Eddie smiles and pulls Steve back against his chest. "She looks nice."

"Looks can be deceiving." Steve laments which has Eddie chuckling into his shoulder. Eddie rubs at Steve's tummy.

What Steve really wants, what he's been desperate for, for months and months is human touch. He just wants to cuddle so badly. And Eddie doesn't seem the type to cuddle, but looks can be deceiving, so Steve's gonna ask anyway.

"Wanna cuddle and watch trash reality TV?" Steve's shoulders rise to his ears, it's a defensive gesture and he's expecting to be rejected. Eddie looks slightly amused by his offer, but he nods.

***

"So you liked him alright?" Wayne asks smugly patting the counter. Steve nervously watches the back of the store where Amber is reorganizing. Steve shouldn't be having a conversation like this at work while she's around.

"Yes, Wayne." Steve rolls his eyes. "Your nephew is lovely."

"I told him he should come here with me next time. Maybe we'll both visit ya." Wayne looks happy. The corners of his default frown have been pulled upwards by the return of his nephew. He's a good man. Steve thinks if his kid was only home a few weeks he'd want to hoard all of his attention, surely not set him up on dates.

And that's the thing about Wayne, it seems like he puts the people he cares about first. Steve wonders if Wayne is all that lonely when Eddie's gone, or if he just comes into the store so often because he knows Steve is.

"I'd love that." Steve hopes things work out with the Munsons.