#sky high movie imagine

[aconflagrationofmyown]

Prima Nocta (or the right of the first night) Part 1

Warnings: so so so so many for thematic material. This is dark. Quite dark. This is freshly divorced and verrrrrry bitter and disillusioned Elvis helping himself to the bride of the newest Memphis Mafia initiate. Hugely unreliable narrator, belittling and objectifying of women, dub con because of that, sanctimonious chauvinism, reference to his marriage going very south. no actual sex yet but definitely 18+.

Notes: this got so long from just lead up that I figured it was worth publishing on its own and seeing if there’s interest for a part 2. Sorry for going bonkers on this one, sometimes you just gotta tap into the villain side of yourself. Also, this was inspired by many talks with my previous mutuals about THAT picture of Elvis holding a gun to George Klein’s head at his own wedding…I’m using it for solely for vibes, sorry George

Series: Sky High Lovin -reading Honeymoon might make this even better but not necessary

Dedicated to: Sweet Christi with the wayward mind and all my thanks to Ally and Jane and Elise for spitballing this into existence.

There was a time, not so long ago, when Elvis enjoyed life affirming events like weddings, believe it or not. He enjoyed facilitating days to celebrate love and loyalty and vows before God, promising everlasting devotion. That is, until he learned that “till death do us part” meant about as much to most as a “bless you” did when someone sneezed.

It makes surveying the pink and white festooned hotel ballroom something of an eyesore for him as he lounges back, dressed in black velvet, a sore thumb of ominous derision amidst the pastels, viewing the merry reception through moody, tinted lenses. The familiarly charming table accents of champagne and flowers and paper mache hearts twist his own into something a little furious and decidedly bitter.

A man’s wife betraying him and leaving him and stripping him of his pride and his joy and all his best intentions for her and your child will do that to a man.

Couldn’t even make it a whole decade before she found fault and spread her legs for another and turned his child against the father that loved her.

Sorry for being away so much baby, I was just singin’ myself hoarse to buy you that fuckin ring and car and hair and face and keep you in the style you’d married me for.

Cause it was obvious as all hell that honoring and obeying hadn’t been first and foremost in her mind when she promised forever. Forever to riches and fame, maybe, but not forever to him. She has those now, and he hasn’t got the family he’d prayed an Old Testament God for.

Rather like the pretty lady currently allowing her rodent of a groom to feed her their wedding cake, fake giggles and batting lashes adding to the nauseating act of pretending she can stand being in his company for longer than a couple hours.

Forever, my ass.

Elvis watches her through his shades and with each passing minute the anger burns brighter and his justification steadily builds for the liberty he’s about to commit.

The groom is here for Elvis’ paycheck, the lovely bride is planning to suck that idiot's cock till death doth them part (or a good four years) for the status of being a Memphis Mafia wife, and even the guests now stuffing their faces with pasta and alcohol are here for what Elvis’ money buys.

Loyalty is dead and what’s left is the goddamn food chain, like they’re the animals school tells them they’ve evolved past. In the recent months since his divorce, Elvis has felt a near Devine calling to bring this wicked devolution of morals and motivations to light, to humiliate these homosapiens until some level of shame is regained by mankind. If this is a pack of animals that surrounds him, he is King of the Jungle, and it is a careless and heartless king who lets his subjects run amuck.

He has no appetite for pasta, the hours of frivolity pass him by and he remains aloof, crouching in wait in his chair, running off righteous indignation and primal sufferance. Good things come to those who wait.

That’s what the bride is thinking, Elvis suspects, as the reception winds down and her luxurious honeymoon full of sunbathing and spas, good food and rich wine and the obligatory playing hooky to get out of sex draws nearer. Just a little more time letting fuckin’ Ronnie feed her cake and paw at her, then she’ll be on her way, securely locked into her future of privilege. He’s got nothing against Connie, uh, Sandra, -oh hell what was her name? he consults the gold embossed invitation at his elbow,- He’s got nothing against the newly minted Mrs. Kemp, nothing in particular, except that she’s a woman. And Elvis has a bone to pick and a point to prove with the whole, whorish lot of them.

Elvis opens the limo door for the bride himself, gallantly ushering in the happy couple before joining them as arranged, the whole merry band of his boys piling in after.

The new Mrs. Kemp, unlike some of his boys wives, had had the good grace not to whine about the lack of privacy and alone time to be found in and around Graceland’s inner circle. As a result Elvis allowed her to choose the more expensive flowers and gold embossed invites and french vintages, even if he knew why knew she’d been disgustingly eager for any chance of her intended husband being distracted from her. Elvis is certain, thanks to first hand accounts from fuckin’ Ronnie himslef, that the groom has sampled the bride already. It’s the way of things in this decadent decade, and she’s no fresh outta the nest baby chick. The fact Ronnie could give no further details about his encounters with his betrothed beyond the mechanics of thrusting above her till he blew his load, made Elvis despair of humanity and suspect Mrs. Kemp had a serpentine pragmatism about this entire arrangement.

Oh my buddy my pal, he thinks to himself as the limo flies through the never dark streets of Las Vegas towards the airstrip, I gave my wife everything and that wasn’t enough, how can you compete? God gave Eve the whole of Eden ‘cept for one measly apple tree -and what did the mother of all mankind do? She took, she ate, she damned them all with her disloyalty.

Ronnie is a damn fool, and while Elvis’ warnings were not needed during the engagement and this marriage has progressed to a limo ride and honeymoon, Elvis is not to be thwarted in his determination to save Ronnie the slow disillusionment, the slow death of any pretense of love in his wife’s eyes, the crumbling of all faith in anything such as Elvis has endured. Better to rip the bandage off now, five years is a long crucifixion.

As the limo parks on the tarmac and the gleaming hulk of the private jet looms over them in the night sky, no doubt Ronnie harbors some pathetic hope Elvis has forgotten his promise.

Elvis proceeds his guests up the jet bridge, cane thumping and carefully harnessed excitement radiating through him as he enters the opulent space, watching with benign magnanimity as the newlyweds board his jet, the boys providing a rollicking group to ferry the new couple to their honeymoon destination.

This was Elvis’ treat, he had insisted the jet drop them off before he heads back to wherever it is he’s supposed to be tomorrow. He’s not lost his appetite for spoiling folks. Only this time, he is gonna get repaid in currency a little more tangible than ephemeral, transient, fleeting loyalty. And Ronnie, kiss-ass, weak-spined fuckin’ Ronnie wasn’t man enough to hold out more than a few minutes when Elvis told him his new bride was the price for being inducted into the inner circle, the intitiation to prove his loyalty to The King.

Predictably, after some pathetic and scandalized objections, some monetary threats by Elvis and some judgmental snickers by the guys, fuckin’ Ronnie had caved and betrayed his loyalty to his own wife before he’d even walked down the aisle to marry her.

“B-b-but d-did the rest of t-the g-guys h-h-have to do this?” Ronnie had protested while they were shootin some pool, leaving the gals the other rooms to wedding plan, “Is it a-a-always this w-way?”

It hasn’t always been, no. Because Elvis hadn’t always been so astute. He had allowed his taste for pleasure and innocence and childish notions of fidelity to cloud his perception of women and the men they married. Elvis once was blind, now he saw, and now there was a currency of wedding nights established in the jungle.

“No one’s forcin’ ya to stay in this group.” Elvis had pointed out while lining up his pool cue with the ball, “you’re mighty welcome to go right on out that door, never receive another check from me or a glimpse of Vegas again, you’ll lose that girl, too, cause she sure as hell won’t be stickin around when all your bells and whistles fall off and it’s just you she’s left with. She don’t want ya Ronnie, she wants what I give ya, which makes me her provider, don’t it?” he reasoned before making his shot, the clatter of the balls deafening against the green felt as the older members of the mafia held their breaths in sick fascination with this new form of hazing. “And now, if I’m her provider,” Elvis had straightened up his posture to watch Sonny mark the score on the board, “that makes me a husband of sorts, an authority, a protector. A sugar daddy. Don’t it? You gonna tell me I should throw you guys a damn weddin’ and honeymoon, buy ya the house you live in and the cars you drive, the clothes she wears and the food you eat cause you hang around me an’ promise to protect me if the time comes? Bodyguard my ass, I could turn anyone to chopsticks before you even woke up long enough to realize a threat. Face it Ronnie, there’s a totem pole in this here life, and no one blames ya for bein’ a few notches down than most in the scale of things, but it don’t give ya much leverage bein’ down there. I give you that leverage. And I’d like to compensate myself for my generosity with a lil marital privilege. Jus’ once, just first night rights.” he took a swing of his coke and watched Ronnie closely, licking the sugar off his lips with deliberate swipes of his tongue, “Or would ya prefer I just wait and fuck her in six monthes when she comes knockin’ on my door sayin’ she just got lost in this big ole place?”

Fuckin’ Ronnie was a coward and a cad and he essentially agreed that he’d rather Elvis fuck his wife on the wedding night and be done with it than always be watching his back, suspecting her of carrying on an affair. Ronnie was a little bitch, Elvis surmised. Gone was any protest that he couldn’t do that to her, that she was a good gal, that Elvis wouldn’t do that to a friend.

Kings had no friends. And tonight Ronnie was oh so close to being officially inducted into the Memphis Mafia, he’d do nothing to jeopardize that . Elvis figured he’d wait until the plane took off to sample the goods, make her husband squirm guiltily over it while his new bride puzzled over why he was so tense.

Out of consideration for her downer of a groom, Elvis handed her a drink, playing the gracious host and taking her mind off her husband's stiff bearing and sweaty pallor.

“Don’t mind him, honey,” Elvis whispered hot and wet in her ear as he handed the drink off, “Ronnie boy here’s just scared of flyin’. You’re not scared are ya, honey?”

Honey….he couldn’t recall her name, Mrs. Kemp’s name, his fatigue and apathy too strong. He stood straight and dug in his pocket for a pick-me-up as he watched her smile and blush under his attentions,

“No sir, Mr. Presley, I’m not scared.” she smiled, “One could think we’re sat in a living room, it's so spacious here.” she added a compliment.

“I’d like to show ya the rest.” he says sitting down next to her, his arm heavy and warm around her shoulders and his gaze intent on her, knowing the effect this has on an ignored woman.

He recalls using that same line on his young bride during their honeymoon, eager to show his own new wife everything he had to offer. Beauty and luxury and care and a damn good fuck in front of the mirror back there. And it wasn’t enough, it wasn’t enough.

He can feel Ronnie tense further against the back of his hand where he clasps the bride’s shoulder, knowing that the “rest” of the plane beyond this lounge is a conference table, a toilet and a bedroom. Ronnie has had the privileges of being part of the TCB and now he’s about to pay his admission fee, and Elvis smirks at the thought that the man will never ride aboard this jet again without thinking of getting cuckolded by his boss.

The Bride is trying to make sense of Elvis' sudden shift of mood along with her husband’s. Both of them seeming to have swapped bearings, changing from the reception as if the jet’s air pressure had doused Ronnie’s merriment and finally revitalized Mr. Presley from the rather sullen attendee he had been. Elvis can feel her hesitancy to agree in her body language and the way she keeps looking over to Ronnie, as if to figure out his nervous ignoring of her and the way Elvis makes up for it in touches and attention. Beneath them the jet rumbles and takes flight, her little gasp at the heart swooping feeling of take-off a taste of what’s to come, of what he’ll pull from her body, willing or not . He’d rather lure her, try that first, the other can always be resorted to.

There’s an unspoken agreement to wait on this lil tour till the jet reaches cruising altitude, and Elvis spends the wait rubbing her arm and watching her try to make conversation with her groom who finds discussing the latest baseball stats with Red far more interesting than recalling the beauteous memories of the last few hours with his now introspective and mildly panicked bride. It’s funny to hold a woman whose mind is racing, Elvis can almost feel the frantic thoughts and conflicting emotions battering her frame from the inside out like a caged bird against its bars.

Elvis allows the minutes to trickle by and work for him, the soothing sweep of his hand slowly melting her rigidity, the continued abandonment of her husband's attention going from hurtful to frustrating, the innocuous chatter of the fellas talking and laughing around them, the cool air of the jet’s cooling system kicking on, and his warm and broad chest already pressed against her, now beckoning like a little haven for her to cower inside until the confusion passes. He clocks all these developments as the minutes go by, fully aware the boys are making small talk with their minds as preoccupied as Ronnie’s about when Elvis will make his move, their anticipation mounting while her guard drops, finally accepting his closeness without question. The jet rumbles and her drink kicks in and with the wedding fever abated it leaves her drowsy, unmoored.

Elvis waits for the perfect moment to pounce and is rewarded for his patience. The cool blast of the AC has made her begin to curl towards him and he’s met her halfway and it’s not till her head almost nods weakly to lay on his shoulder that her sensibilities prick her and she jerks it back up, another little gasp. It makes his repeated,

“Lemme show ya round, honey, got all sorts of remarkable stuff up here”

sound like a gallant cover for her lapse of decorum. Predictably, she shakes herself upright and gives him a polite nod of thanks, their first mutual, unspoken communication acknowledging something the rest of the room isn’t privy to. Her loyalty is slipping and all it took was a few minutes of heating her up with his embrace, a few whispered teases and buying her a whole damn lifestyle. To her credit she looks to Ronnie as she rises, asking him to come along in a coaxing voice Elvis knows is her trying to get her new husband to even look at her.

Elvis watches her try and fail at this from the curtained doorway leading to the back of the jet, thinking it makes a striking picture. A bride still dressed in white, bending over to try to catch her husband's eyes as he watches TV in his rumpled tux, the entire plane’s worth of masculine attention directed on her, except for the man who swore to worship her. Perhaps the disillusion will go both ways tonight, maybe women aren’t all merley bitches in heat, maybe some start out intending to be faithful and good and content.

Elvis has yet to meet a woman faithful and good and content once he puts his mark on them, they spend the rest of their lives day dreaming and closing their eyes when their husbands are in them and clogging his phone lines, kidding themselves that they’re special. He’s saving her the sin of coming to his room in a couple of months or years and saying she got lost while dropping her silk nightwear down her frame, an old and familiar expression of invitation on her face. She might not know that’s in her future otherwise, but he does. And he’s gonna save her the wait. When she wants something she’ll come to him now, not her husband, and he will have the discipline to make the right choices for her.

Elvis holds the curtain aside and beckons her with his fingers, and she would be angrier that he has the nerve to summon her away from her husband if she weren’t so humiliated at being ignored by the man. Frustration at their man makes women very susceptible to comfort, Elvis knows this intimately, and in their strong desire to be understood and soothed, they’ll spread their legs for the first person who tells them they deserve that attention.

She ducks under his arm, into the shade of the conference room with an attitude written on her face. Elvis drops the curtain behind them, the prey corralled. Nothin so easy as a woman scorned, nothin’ quite so hungry and quite so fierce. He hopes she’ll take out some of that miffed little ‘tude out on his back with those fancy nails his money bought her. It makes him smirk in anticipation and he can tell she finds that unsettling, her huffy bearing faltering once she notices him just watching her move round the glossy table top, suddenly aware of their seclusion and the fact she left her groom behind for a tour of the jet. She’s beginning to doubt her choice, doubt her loyalties.

Honeymoon off to a damn good start, she thinks sourly.

It’s innocuous, standing at opposite ends of a conference table with a man who is your husband's closest friend and at whose house you’ve eaten multiple dinners. There’s nothing wrong with it, but she feels her skin prickle none the less like she’s in danger, like those eyes observing her through shaded lenses are not fully human, not fully beneficent. She curses Ronnie for humiliating her, for his weird mood these past weeks making her feel isolated, for her past making her paranoid of this assessing male gaze.

She’d met a panther in the woods on an Appalachian bike ride once. They’d stared each other down as he had crouched and observed, his eyes fathomless and intent, the muscles of its body undulating in readiness beneath sleek black fur. Her mouth had dried out exactly the same as it does now when her shy smiles aren’t met with anything besides those assessing eyes and that crooked smirk that holds no fondness for her, no pride in his jet, no amusement at her awe of his wealth. A smirk of pure and smug knowingness.

Then he calls to her and the warmth of his voice melts her fear. “Check out this icebox, honey”

Her face lights up like a kids in the yellow glow of the refrigerator light as she bends over to look inside, white stain skirt hugging her perfectly and he gathers that all that athleticism has done her good, she could probably ride a man for hours without tiring, judging by the firm curve of that ass.

“See anyhtin ya’d like?” he asks her casually, laying a light hand between her shoulder blades as she reads rows and rows of labeled refreshments.

“Oh, uh, no, no, the drink was enough for now. Thank you Mr. Presley.”

He used to correct folks when they called him that, and used to punt the honorary title to his father. But nowadays he finds “Mr. Presley” might be closer to “your majesty” than mere “Elvis” -in which case he’s stopped putting little floozies at ease by asking them to call him by the name his mama gave him. That’s a name used by a wife back when he was happy and respected and alive.

“C’mere, I wanna show ya this television back here.” he beckons again, removing the heat of his hand from her back and she breathes easier with him taking the lead, she’s able to watch his imposing figure unobserved as he leads her past the conference table and into a small hallway with a large, showbiz style mirror.

Elvis swaggers right on by the marvelous monstrosity with its low counter and doused bare bulbs, but she can’t help herself. A flicker of childish glee taking over as she flips the switch on the wall and makes the bulbs buzz to life, brilliant as a spotlight in the inky gloom, illuminating them from the knees to the ceiling in a gaudy reflection. The sudden blast of light makes him pause on his trek to the bedroom and he joins her in looking at their reflection.

“Hell, honey,” he drawls amused as he takes in her fresh little wedding set and his decadent black suit, “we look like cake toppers.”

She laughs at that, a sweet unaffected thing that is music to his ears, and no doubt a screech to Ronnie’s. Elvis finds his grin growing at that thought and she mistakes it for joy. She laughs again, aborted little chuckles tapering out.

“There’s a tv back here, too?” she asks, embarrassingly at ease with entering a bedroom in the company of Elvis Presley.

Interestingly she doesn’t even glance at the bed when he ushers her in, she’s peering at the walls and the built in furniture for a peek of a screen.

“Mhmm, keep lookin, it’s hidden.” Elvis follows her and shuts the door behind him, a quiet click she doesn’t hear as she’s got her back to him, busily creaking open dresser doors and clapping in commendation upon finding the tastefully camouflaged TV set.

“How wonderful!” She praises and his heart does something funny and nostalgic over unpretentious enjoyment of what he has to give her.

One day it’ll be old hat to her and she’ll be like all the other wives, naggin’ and bitchin’ over keeping up with each other, forgetting about what it was they ever wanted, consumed with one upping each other and dominating the pecking order, spending Elvis’ money not for pleasure but for bragging rights. For now he watches this young woman bounce in her heels over a hidden TV set and makes a pact with himself to be nice, to gentle her into this ruination.

Then he recalls she married Fuckin Ronnie, and that twists his gut in reminder she’s a practical gold digger like all the rest. And he doesn’t mind that about her, he just hates the dishonesty of pretending she’s in it for more, and her ignoring him for a tv irks him as disingenuine.

“Wanna kick back and watch somethin, doll?” he asks her and sees the exact minute his words make her back and shoulders stiffen beneath white silk.

“Uh, on this one?” she’s scared to ask, scared to sound like she’s accusing him of suggesting it, scared to suggest it and give him ideas.

“They got the damn game on the other.” he answers her smoothly, coming up behind her and reaching round her to power it up.

“Elvis.” she dares to sound reprimanding when all he’s done is stand behind her and punch a button, she’s the one who walked into a bedroom with a man who isn’t her husband.

“Gonna be a long flight, three more hours I reckon.” he is patient with her.

“Y-yes.” she hesitantly agrees, watching the screen flicker to life, “And I wanna spend it with Ronnie, exc-“

Liar! He doesn’t let her turn around, he puts his hands on her shoulders and keeps her facing the TV, keeps her away from the closed door she’s not yet noticed, he nuzzles his nose into the crook of her neck telling himself, gently, gently, tempt her, tempt her. “Doesn’t seem like Ronnie is eager to spend it with ya.” he mourns low and sympathetic in her ear and she gasps at his brutal honesty, at the fact he’d have no tact to pretend he didn’t notice.

“Elvis, t-this isn’t right.” she parrots her mother or her favorite tv show or some rote set of rules she doesn’t really embrace.

“What ain’t right, honey?” he rumbles, keeping his hands on her, moving them from her shoulders down her arms, then swooping them up again and fingering at the sides of her neck, delighting in the shiver her body yields up to him.

If he hadn’t been so aloof before, she figures she might not feel so electrified by his sudden, all consuming touch. But it’s not just that, he’s kept his distance from her since she started dating Ronnie and in her star struck insecurity she’d made no move to become friendly with him.

Now this, this intentional hovering and the petting that tastes like something she’s only ever heard about. It’s Elvis, Elvis petting her in her wedding dress on the way to her honeymoon destination and that’s simultaneously about as predictable and uncredible as can be. Elvis, who’s been the ephemeral host for countless of lovely parties, Elvis who’s been the presiding specter over all their schedules since she became part of the group, Elvis who has been the magical name on the credit card used for everything she ever wanted. Elvis Presley, the man who achieved all there was in life by 21, and has been bored by it ever since. What did she expect him to be, a fatherly figure?

“Did you like your weddin’ honey?” he asks her after her raging thoughts consume the time she should have spent answering and protesting him.

The hands descending to her hips and squeezing there hint a warning prompt even as his gentle tone reminds her of all he has done for her, his inexhaustible benevolence -which it seems something has finally exhausted. She begins to panic, no need to see those panther eyes when the heat is radiating off of him, sexual intent potent from his aura alone, no need to feel a crude gesture or have it spoken out in clunky declarations of desire. Ingrained self doubt takes hold of her for one brief moment before the scratch of his sideburn rubs against her cheeks and the hot press of his lips against her neck tells her it is not vanity making her project on him, Elvis Presley really is trying to seduce her mere hours after her vows, a few yards away from her new husband and his friends.

“Mr. Presley!” she resolutely stiffens in his embrace and tries to turn and leave his hold of her and he lets her so far as she’s spun round and facing him, her stern tone wobbling out when she’s met with the hypnosis of his expectant stare, “Y-yes it was lovely, thank you.” she stammers out, fear and primal instinct kicking in and guiding her to cower and simper her way out of this, her boldness having bounced off him like shotgun shells off cement. Nothing but damaging to her. “T-thank you for all you did.” she tries again, her tone unsure as his face remains unreadable, his eyes burning and unblinking behind his shades, lit with white hot something in the glow of the tv screen. “You’re very generous.” she admits, tacking on every obeisance she can think of while resolutely ignoring the feel of being held to his chest, near eye level with the gap of his shirt and the chains glittering on his skin. “I need to rejoin my husband, sir.” she begs, begs that she doesn’t want this, denies she’s ever hoped for this.

Idly he wonders if she’s being honest, then he watches her swallow thickly as she catches a whiff of his scent.

Suddenly he crushes her to him, her mouth smashed to the metallic, skin warmed nest of his chains, pinning her there with a hand to the back of her head as his other reaches for the hem of her skirt and drags it up and over her ass, palming it even as she shrieks in shock, “Tell me, Mrs. Kemp,” he growls in her ear, “did you go after Ronnie cause he was near me, or did ya come for the money and stay in the hopes I’d pay attention to your little self? Was you countin’ on me gettin lonely some night an’ sendin’ your husband on an errand so I could get my fill of his wife? Is that what keeps ya from gaggin when he’s on top of ya? Is that the hope?”

Elvis’ fingers find the band of her lacy panties -honeymoon lingerie his money bought her- and he snakes his hand in, down the warm curve of her ass and along her crack, dipping between clenched thighs to rake through predictably sopping wet folds. She gave the whole resistance act a good try, but her womanly body responds to dominance, and Elvis is dominance incarnate. It’s in her weak nature to drip for him, plain and simple, and so he swipes and dips and drags his fingers through her as she fights against his chest, pounding her fists impotently against the velvet of his coat.

“Shhh, shhh honey, I know, it ain’t your fault.” he is magnanimous, gracious as King Solomon. “This, honey, this is what hope tastes like.” he brings his glistening fingers to her snarling mouth and shoves them in against her tongue, savoring the way her choke distracts her from the obvious defense of biting him, “Taste that? That’s how hope tastes, and there ain’t anyhtin’ more harmful than hope. Makes a purgatory of your life. Doesn’t let ya be satisfied with what ya got, won’t let ya get dissatisfied enough to wanna change anythin. You just hope and hope and your life goes by, while you’re hopin.”

She whimpers around his fingers, wilted white silk in his arms, dress bunched up obscenely in the screen-lit room. He strokes her cheek with his spit wet hand, the ring faces of rubies and diamonds and priceless gems caressing her tears away, lulling the creature back to her basic instincts, hypocrisy and futility purged away beneath Elvis’ healing hands. “I ain’t gonna let you go on hopin for years and years,” he enchants her with whispers, rocking her now as she whimpers in catatonic fascination, “I’m gonna gift ya with knowledge.”

Everything she’s given up while fighting to get herself on a jet like this, married to a man of means, with a house and a steady future and a predictable timeline stretching out before her -security at last! -all of it crowds her mind, the devil and the angel on her shoulders whisper in a traitorous debate. Of course life isn’t how she wanted at eighteen when she expected to marry for love, yet of course her mature self is pleased with this match. Those can both exist, and she planned for them to exist in a tidy world where Elvis Presley wasn’t an option, because he’s not. He’s not offering himself, doesn't even have enough dreams of his own to bother with lying about it to buy them both a minute of reprieve from the disillusioned hellscape that is life in one’s thirties when you comforted your starry eyed twenties by telling yourself it gets better. Then to no one’s surprise -it didn’t. The one last insupportable piece of this maturing puzzle that would cement her growing up forever is tasting this then going back to Ronnie. It’s out of the question and she doesn’t give a shit what he’s going through right now, or what Ronnie thinks about her angering his boss, what she needs is the peace of mind that comes with not knowing.

“You can take your knowledge and shove it.” she snaps out of the pliant heatstroke his embrace caused her and shoves him away, only succeeding at making room between them because he’s so surprised by her sudden surfacing out of the trance.

One final thrash of the prey and he watches with amusement as she stumbles in haste across the flickering room, yanking open the closed door and steadfastly booking it to the front of the jet. Headed to the shelter of a man who promised to protect and defend her and cherish her and swore it all while counting his bonus for selling her out.

Elvis watches her till she and her crumpled white dress fly past the brightly mirrored hallway and disappear from his vantage point through the doorway. He picks at his nose and thinks about what he might like to take on this little experiment, and having procured a few items of use saunters after her at a leisurely pace. He sets them on the conference room and table and watches as she pulls back the curtain and steps into the lounge, her whole being vibrating in a way that is not subtle or discreet about what just occurred between them.

It’s warmer in the lounge, just pulling the curtain back wafts warmth into the ice box chilled areas of the plane that Elvis frequents, it makes her tremble with relief. She’s back in public, back where he won’t try anything. Ronnie, to her angry bewilderment, is still glued to watching the TV like he didn’t even register her absence. But his mere existence will still work for what she needs. She needs to belong to someone and sit beside that person for three hours while his boss cools off.

She is not prepared for the way everyone in the lounge spins round to look at her once registering her presence, looking with absolute surprise as if her reemergence was the surprise, not the lengthy plane tour to the back bedroom. It makes her seethe inside, they thought she’d go through with it, damn animals that they are, all “what happens on the road stays on the road” and carefree chauvinism inherited from their boss. She has to remind herself why she wanted this life in the first place, has to recall the perks and the wages and lavish reception.

Red and Joe now flank Ronnie and her seat beside him is taken up by those two manspreading oaf’s. Desperate, she decides to play at being cute and makes to sit on her husband’s lap, spinning round to find Elvis watching hehe from the curtained doorway as she tries to lower herself down to perch.

“Babe, I can’t see the damn screen with you like that.” Ronnie has the churlishness to complain and she wants to scream at his denseness, the way pushes at her lower back to tip her out of his lap.

To save herself the humiliation of face planting on the plane floor she chooses to stand of her own accord and catch herself from the shove. She sees Elvis’ lush mouth frown behind the cigar he’s lighting up.

“Don’t be an ass to her Ronnie, she’s your wife.” he reprimands and she gets a funny feeling of appreciation for being defended in all this. Her loyalty teeters towards the man she has to remind herself she needs to escape from. “Or have ya forgotten, ya unchivalrous bastard?”

That’s a little harsh but the memory of Ronnie not giving a damn about the fact she was almost assaulted -that’s harsh word for that too, her traitorous mind supplies- reminds her that she isn’t happy with him at all. But in fact, come to think of it, she isn’t pleased with any one them, and there’s no where to go on this damned plane. It starts to make her skin crawl, the realization that she’s surrounded by men who would either not believe or else not care if Elvis went through with the forceful attentions he was showing her back there. Who would believe her if she said he forced her?

“Ronnie I’m tired and my seat’s been taken!” she argues with him, “I just wanna sit down. Lay down, even!” she begs, thinking of how best to clear the couch of anyone but him so that no one takes liberties and sits down beside her.

“Then go lay down in back where there’s a fuckin’ bed? Why’d you come out?” he snaps.

“Cause-“ because Elvis Presley tried to take liberties, that’s why, but she feels strangled watching how all the men await her answer with a little too much investment, the way Elvis is still watching her behind tinted shades and a haze of cigar smoke.

“You get all bitchy when you’re tired, go lay down and take a nap, honey. I’m watching the game.” Ronnie suggests her worst fear and it infuriates her how he’s changed just since he slipped a ring on her finger.

“Ronnie please-“ She whimpers and would give anything to know why Joe is leering up at her with a sly grin. There’s no time to think on it as Elvis’ ringed fingers close around her elbow and tug her back towards the curtain.

“C’mon honey, ya heard your husband, let’s get ya situated.” he coos and her fingers turn to ice from the shock of it all.

“I don’t wanna!” she protests, “Ronnie!” she tries one more time while being backed away from her husband by his boss.

“Oh for fucks sake just do what he wants!” Ronnie begs with something akin to frustration but the red hot blush sweating up his neck suggests he’s humiliated to be caught saying it.

“Beg your pardon?” she hisses in disbelief, feeling Elvis’ hand clamp on her arm just a little more, maybe to keep her from marching up to Ronnie and smacking him.

“Just, just give him what he wants. Just tonight.” Ronnie spills the beans far sooner than needed and Elvis wants to roll his eyes at how fast they went from taking her for a nap to admitting to something far more sinister.

The bride’s head swivels from viewing her husband to Elvis and back to her husband and the room full of men who’s thrumming interest in her makes her wanna bolt straight out of the plane now she knows why. It’s sickening yet so strongly in character for them she doesn’t waste many moments in disbelief, it all makes sense in a horribly predictable way. Every one of these fella’s grinning at her discomfort are pathetic in her eyes, as pathetic as men who’d prefer to watch naughty movies than better themselves as lovers. Somehow in the mess of it all, Elvis alone stands out as something a little less deplorable. Even if it’s just his brash and demented honesty she admires.

“Y’all planned this?” she asks dully, scanning each lip licking face, ending with her husband’s sullen one, “This was all planned out? You offered me up? You goddamn, two faced bastard-“

Elvis loops his arm around her waist to prevent her from launching at Ronnie and clawing him to shreds. His chest is searing her through the silk on her back and his hands grab at her more than they need to in order to restrain her. It makes her pulse pound and fury swirls inside her, battling with the cold dread of weakness and helplessness.

“Ronnie made a little deal with me.” Elvis is drawling in her ear in so soothing a way it almost counteracts the nauseating confirmation, “And now, we can watch you runnin’ round this plane for hours to get away from me like a Junebug in a bottle but that ain’t gonna change how this night ends. How bout ya just be sensible, hmm? Just cause he’s a lyin’, no good sunnuvabitch don’t mean you gotta turn bad yourself, ya know? He gave ya instructions, ya can still be a good lil wifey and honor and obey him, can’t ya?”

“Why?” she persists, but feebly this time, not knowing if she’s asking her husband who keeps his face averted towards the screen or the man whose hands are mapping out her body in full view of his friends. “Why y’all gotta do this?”

“I told ya honey,” Elvis murmurs, rucking the hem of her skirt up passed her knees, “hope’s a dangerous thing. I don’t allow it in my house. An’ you’re part of my house now, ain’t ya?” he pets at the damp plushness of her inner thighs as the men stare and she struggles to find a way to empower herself while caught in such a feeble position. Hurting Ronnie, twisting the knife a little more like he’s done her is all she can think of at the time. “Don’t you belong to me, sweetie?” Elvis is prodding once more and his cheek is clammy and hot against hers, the cigar smoke pungent around them.

“Yes sir.” she agrees while sneering at Ronnie’s reddened face.

“That’s more like it.” Elvis’ voice gentles to something a little less frightening than before but all the more terrifying for how sure and smug it sounds. His hands grab at her breasts and she can’t help the whimper she lets out from the presumption, no doubt it’ll only get worse. “Since you’re so eager to stick close to ole Ronnie and include e’rbody in our private business, I reckon it’s only fair we conduct this lil interview on the conference table, hmm?”

When she cranes her neck to look behind him and past the curtain, she can see the shiny table top littered with items it didn’t hold when she made her hasty exit passed it; scarves and a strange sort of plastic wand, that stupid police flashlight and a box of cigars are clumped at its foot in an ominous hodgepodge.

Admitting to being frightened by it would strip away her last bit of autonomy in this and so in a bid to act unbothered she slips out of Elvis’ hold and walks on her own two feet into the room, turning her back to Ronnie before shifting herself to sit on the cold, hard surface of the table.

“Is this what you had in mind, Mr. Presley?” she asks him meekly and makes sure to let her legs fall apart just so. She thinks she’s going to have some control in all this, the silly little thing, thinking he’s a man with regular tastes and base preoccupations, easily distracted from the purpose of this like any other. And the purpose is not pleasure -though he intends to draw it from her till she is broken from it- but purity of intention and nature. A lie dressed in white no more, but a wanton woman giving in to her true nature. Only he has the power to bring this out in every one he meets, and to purge it all the same.

Elvis Presley eyes her, as do all the men in the lounge just past him, until with an approving little hum and smile that is almost pleased, he steps towards her, yanking the curtain closed behind him and leaving them (somewhat) alone together in the dimly lit room, full of anticipation.

And maybe dread.

[thetimelordbatgirl]

Girl not the director of Sky High actually saying he'd be up for a sequel if it was made by Marvel.

[mist-the-wannabe-linguist]

Hot take

Night furies are actually perfectly evolved for hunting and killing other dragons and the only reason they aren't a dragon-hunting species like the death song or deathgrippers are is because DreamWorks couldn't have their adorable main character dragon be a "cannibal"

(below I'm gonna try to summarize what we've figured out in a convo with friends on discord)

(also tw animal death via predator)

First of all yes I'm aware that pretty much every decision made about their design was with consideration of the effect it would make on human audiences but hear me out

Night furies are most iconically known as dive-bombers. They are built for speed, high maneuverability, night-time camouflage and for striking targets from above. If we remove human settlements out of the equation (which would not have existed long enough to actually influence night fury evolution, come on), what does that leave us with?

They aren't built for catching fish for sure, they aren't very hydrodynamic and their head is round, wide, and their teeth are dull. Honestly, the monstrous nightmare is much better suited for catching fish, with its long neck, almost pelican-like jaw and rhamphorhynchus teeth

Compare to

Yeah the jaws look kinda like a porpoise of some sort but for that the whole body would have to be a lot more aquatic imo. The light fury looks a lot closer to an aquatic diver, it has a sleeker body, rounded fins instead of spikes, and a long neck.

I don't really see them hunting land animals either, they just don't look like they're adapted for that minus the resemblance with large felines and even then, they're too large to effectively hunt in forests.

The one thing I can kinda imagine them hunting is large mainland megafauna, but we're working with a setting that takes place pretty much exclusively on islands. And overall, dragons are the only abundant species there with the exception of fish and human-bred sheep and chickens.

In general, night furies have duller teeth, smaller claws and are smaller than most dragons. Disregarding the movies making Toothless weirdly OP, a night fury would be disadvantaged against most dragons in a 1v1 fight and besides, it has four huge weak spots that would highly discourage it from a direct physical fight - the primary and secondary tail fins. One unlucky rip in the membrane and the night fury is fucked.

The night fury however noticeably resembles falcons, given their dive-bombing ability and high maneuverability.

Falcons too have smaller beaks and weaker claws compared to most birds of prey, and for that they compensate by simply picking up speed, balling up their talons and Punching. Really. Hard.

And they use that ability to kill other birds, even much larger ones, by knocking them right from the sky.

Here, the night fury's plasma blast works the same way as a falcon's punch. Dragons are fire-resistant, so what the plasma blast does is really just a densely packed bolt of energy that has the effect of either stunning or outright killing prey by damaging its spine. And what the plasma bolt doesn't do, rapid contact with the ground would finish. And if even that doesn't do it, the night fury's wide jaws and dull teeth are just fine for simply clamping around the unlucky dragon's neck and strangling it, like a lion or a pitbull.

The night-time camouflage allows the night fury to soar for extended periods of time perfectly unnoticed in the night sky, and by the time it strikes, the dragon wouldn't even know what's coming.

Unless

Say the hunting night fury is aware of other dragons sleeping under the trees, as most dragons probably would at night (village raids aside, most dragons seem to be diurnal), so how does the night fury get them in position where it can use its signature attack? Well, there's That Iconic Screech Of Death. Since in the movies it tends to appear not just during dive-bombings but also when charging up a blast, I imagine it's something the night fury is able to control to some degree. So by simply fake-diving in close proximity to sleeping dragons, it can effectively terrify them into leaving their hideout and fly out into the open where it can easily take them out.

I dunno, the possibility of night furies as predators to other dragons just makes so much sense to me, I really don't know what other reasons there would be for them to evolve these particular adaptations.

And one more little headcanon to add to this whole rant - since night furies are significantly smaller and less equipped for dragon vs dragon fights and are primarily speed-based predators, I imagine there is this very likely scenario:

There is one dragon who resembles a hyena, a lil bit

Ok, rant over

[in-the-multiverse]

HotGuy is the bravest, sharpest, most handsomest hero in all of Hermit City. That’s what he’d tell you, anyway. Nobody can agree on what HotGuy is. A hero to some, villain to others. There’s a universal agreement he’s a wanna-be show off of some kind. Him and that pesky bird…

Scar is determined to win over the citys’ hearts (and charitable diamonds) so who better to face off against than King Cleo? With his charming smile, trusty bow, and sidekick CuteGuy, nothing can go wrong!

Coming soon to a theater near you /j

(but these are screenshot style pieces for what I imagine an animated hotguy movie would look like. More ramblings about this au below)

[trailer] / 1

King Cleo would IMMEDIATELY put them in their place like a teacher lecturing the entire class on how they’ve been misbehaving. But that’s no fun right away, so why not let them learn their lesson? >:)

HotGuy and CuteGuy are an iconic duo in Hermit City. King Cleo and Entropy (Cub) are another iconic duo. Whether each team is heroic or villainous depends on who you ask. Even the city residents are split on opinions

Except Bdubs. He runs a podcast spilling conspiracy theories and dragging almost every “hero” name into the mud (his attitude is very inspired by J. Jonah Jameson from Spiderman). He believes they’re menaces and should stay out of the city’s local problems because 9/10 they somehow make it worse. He’s very critical of these 4 in particular, and it doesn’t help that they all like to personally mess with him for the fun of it

Far off in the city outskirts, a living folktale hides in the forest. An amalgamation of creatures that make up one giant monster, and coming across their path is…certainly an experience. They speak in poetry and think out loud, peering deep into the soul of their visitor with just a few words. Sightings are few and far in between, but each interaction is memorable- to say the least. Their name is Joe Hills. A very close friend to King Cleo (but nobody else knows that)

And! an explanation to HotGuy’s mobility aid

With the best high-tech, Scar’s wheelchair can reshape into a mechanical griffin with the press of a button. It lets him take to the sky and hotguy targets! Griffins also have conflicting symbolism, which reflects his persona

Good and Evil. Light and Dark. They’re said to be harbingers of chaos. Mischief certainly seems to follow HotGuy wherever he goes. Be wary of his smirk

They’re also said to be gentle protectors. He shows up to help citizens and tiny creatures alike. With a voice so soothing, any trouble they face is wiped off like nothing (or, ends up feeling a little easier to handle)

Griffins are one of the most remarkable creatures in mythology, their stories told and twisted through generations, but how does the griffin tell his own story?

[satoruhour]

UNDERCUT

a/n: based off a tweet that said gojo would purr if u touched his undercut. listened to peace piece while writing ✶

there is something about lying on sheets that match gojo satoru’s hair, while the gentle breeze of the autumn morning filters through your blinds. there are both birds singing in the trees and butterflies in your stomach from merely having your lover close to you; it’s second nature to wake up and crave his warmth.

undercut’s getting long. we’d have to trim it soon.

and when your silence and thoughts are interrupted by someone’s morning groans and hums from the glare of the tokyo sky, a smile naturally graces your lips. even now, your hand hasn’t stopped brushing through his locks.

“good morning, my love,” the expression he gives matches yours exactly: his chest immediately feels tight when he sees you, morning breath and all, he gets giddy and tingly and wants to kiss you all over. you’re wondering why he hasn’t done it yet.

slow like the morning, slow like these words, satoru props himself up with his elbows, easily reaching for your face before you both sink into a gentle, slow kiss. it’s so sweet that you’re sure it could turn (faux) insult into ardour and you don’t even notice you need air until the both of you break away and giggle softly at your flushed faces. 

“your undercut is growing fast, y’know. we’d have to cut it soon,” the tips of your fingers run over the short strands of hair subconsciously, mouth gaping open a little when satoru closes his eyes and hums at the feeling.

“do it again.”

you laugh, “okay,” and you do, softly guiding your hands over the fuzzy hairs and gaining content sighs and soft moans from the man. gojo has to hide in your stomach, needing to be closer to you as you continue your hypnotising gesture.

“like it when your hair’s touched, huh?” the other hums yet again.

“only when my baby’s doing it.” there’s a ghost of a smile in your stomach, possibly from hearing the flutters of the butterflies in your tummy.

his embrace tightens around you when he sits up, towering over you now as the sky turns dark for a morning shower. fickle-minded weather, satoru would say, click his tongue and shake his head and you grin harder imagining it; your lovers asks why.

“nothing, just thinking.”

“of me? you better be, darling,” gojo thumbs your waist under the shirt you’re wearing, sleep still evident in his voice in the way he slurs his words — it could also be that he’s terribly, deeply in love with you and is simply high off of your presence.

and if that wasn’t the case before, it is now when he leans in again for a rougher kiss, moaning into your mouth as you continue to stroke his undercut. he can taste the sun on your mouth and the imminent rain to come all on you.

“i love you like how poets write,” satoru whispers against your lips in between kisses, and he runs hot, the back of his neck heating up from how much he adores you; it almost burns like flames licking at paper. “how the rain chases the sun.”

gojo tears a little because how the fuck would he have gotten this much love under the home of one of the most powerful clans? essentially nothing — and now he has the closest resemblance of a deity in his arms who knows exactly how many spoons of sugar he likes in his tea and how kikufuku is made from one of his rambles.

“you’re okay, i got you.” you mumble, fingers prepared at his eyes (you heard him sniffle). “i love you too.” 

gojo’s heart is full when you reply to his confession, kissing you again (favourite thing in the world) and stifling smiles as the rain makes its first fall in the serenity of your room. he thinks of declaring his love, but is certain his love would overflow later at breakfast, at reading hour, at movie night.

satoru merely settles for calling you his sweet, sweet girl in between saccharine pecks and making sure he loves you louder than that morning downfall and every other downpour that’s sure to come.

if you know me i think you’ll know i have a problem with this gojo obsession

[calumfmu]

sugar coated melting.

Being assistant to the famous Steve Harrington wasn't an easy task, he was demanding as ever and made sure he was nice to everyone but you. But a job was a job, and it was the cost of working in Hollywood.

Famous!Steve Harrington x Assistant!reader (modern!au, with 40's Steve) 7.5k+ words

cw: older Steve Harrington, smut, loss of virginity, inexperienced!reader, AFAB reader, angst (what's new), mentions of death, swearing, 18+, mdni

Working with one of the most famous actors in the world was draining, exhausting, taxing, everything you could negatively describe. He was such a high maintenance person, he made your job seem like a constant boot camp run for the Navy Seals. Your best friend had cackled at that supply of information.

Steve wasn’t a bad person, no. He was handsome (obviously, he had been voted most handsome of the previous 2 years in a row), kind (to most people—who weren’t you), and compassionate (he let you eat his leftovers that one time you had gotten stuck on set for 16 straight hours). You were getting paid to say nice things about him if anyone had asked.

Life working as his head assistant was just a drag. It was everything you had dreamed of doing when you were a kid, working in Hollywood with big A-listers, attending red carpets, seeing the way movies worked. The job wasn’t the problem, it… was him.

A script was shoved into your hands as you thought of giving it to the man. The look on his face was burned into the back of your mind, irritation crossing his features as you imagined giving him the bad news. He always took things out on you, attitude forward as he said some slick remark.

Last minute script change, typical of productions like these. Something that anyone could expect while working on these things. Anyone with a normal level of patience would handle it well, take it with stride.

Your fingers rapped against the trailer door, aluminum warm to the touch from the sun beating down on it. Movement sounded behind the door, mumbling a few words out at you.

The door swung open, Steve rubbing at his eyes with his hair sticking in every direction. Fuck, he was asleep. It made it so much worse delivering the news.

“Heyyy, boss,” you beamed, voice raising a few octaves. You held out the script to him, cringing slightly. “Nothing too crazy, just a sliight chan-”

“No,” the door slammed in your face, your eyes closing as the bright reflection shone on you. Your smile immediately dropped, the reflection of your face on the white aluminum door looking back at you.

Red seethed through you, frustration prickling at the back of your neck. You knocked again, this day becoming even longer with each passing second.

“Mr. Harrington.” You were met with silence, ear pressing to the door to hear any movement. You waited a beat, knocking more urgently.

“Don’t want it, tell them no,” he grumbled behind the door, his voice sounded across the trailer, muffled through the closed door.

You took a deep breath, trying to find the patience to not go off on him. You were his assistant, not his agent, not the director of the film, not anything else. What did he realistically think you were going to do about a script change?

“‘M just delivering it, Mr. Harrington.” Your voice was level. “I don’t even think it’s your lines that changed.”

A faint note of music came through the door, Steve deciding to tune you out. Looking towards the sky, you squinted, finding prayer between the clouds.

“Mr. Harrington!”

Another PA walked by you, speaking into the earpiece she had with a clipboard in hand. You raised a hand to greet her, faux smile crossing your lips as you pretended everything was okay. She waved back, making her way in between the trailers and out of your eyesight.

As soon as she disappeared, your fist came up to bang at the door, louder than before.

It opened in the middle of your fit, you nearly stumbled into the trailer. You cut your eyes at your boss, biting your tongue at the swear words that threatened to come out.

The man was well past 30 years old, but still acted like a spoiled brat.

“Fine,” he said through his teeth, grabbing the stack of papers from your hand. He barely glanced at it before tossing it on the small couch behind him. Your eyes followed it, noticing the mess of bottles on the floor around it.

He followed your gaze with his own eyes, stepping into your eyesight as he closed the door slightly.

“Anything else, Yn?” A pinch of attitude at your name. Typical.

You smiled at the man, frustration disappearing as you were just grateful this episode of his didn’t last as long as it did last week.

“No, sir, that would be it for me,” you gave him a slightly bow, clasping your hands in front of you before swiveling on your heel. Descending the mini set of stairs, you rolled your eyes, back to him as you descended. “Fucking twat.”

“I heard that!” His voice was far behind you, your feet moving fast across the blacktops. You smiled back at him, waving as confusion crossed your features.

“Sorry sir, I said it was fucking hot!” You lied straight through your teeth. “Outside, you know? Pardon my language.”

You rolled your eyes once more, turning back on your mission to get back inside the building. You and him both knew what you said, but you didn’t have it in you to care. Nothing you did would get you fired, trust, have you tried.

It was like you were in your own personal Purgatory. You assumed Steve liked you, he wouldn’t fire you even on your worst days. You had fucked up many times, forgetting things, slipping up on his to do list, calling the wrong people for the wrong events. More recently, he had heard the rude nicknames you had for him, and he just didn’t seem to care.

You had heard him one time, whisper under his breath about “best help in Hollywood”. It was sarcastic of course, his eye roll you’ve been well acquainted with to follow.

The last few weeks have been more of a hell for you, Steve becoming more temperamental and moody, you becoming the worst employee on planet Earth. You begged to be fired at this point, your shot at unemployment looking more and more appetizing.

A sudden ring cut through the air, your back pocket buzzing. Pulling it out, you nearly ripped your hair out, Steve’s contact popping up on the screen. I could ignore it, you thought. This could finally be my chance at escaping him.

Your thoughts were cut short, the phone ringing again as Steve's name popped up. He didn't even let the first one finish before trying you again.

"Oh, Mr. Harrington," you breathed, hand pressed into your brow as you answered. "Hi, sorry, sir. Did you need me?"

"Need you to come back," you heard him say, voice muffled as he seemed to be doing other things on the other side of the line. Your feet responded before your brain did, autopilot in motion. "Script's not fucking working, and I just-"

Something fell in the background, and your footsteps faltered. You ignored it, rolling your eyes yet again at his antics.

"Are you okay, sir?" You asked, seeing his trailer in the distance. One of the trailer windows had its blinds half up, he paced back and forth.

You approached it, listening to him as he rambled on the phone, speaking about how much he hated this director and his damn agent for giving him these roles. Fighting back laughter, you cosigned with him, not choosing to mention that this stupid role was worth $13 million.

You raised your fist to knock at the door, it swinging open before you could even make a noise. The three dial tones of the phone call ending rung in your ears, Steve grumbling at you to enter.

"A-are you sure, sir?" Hesitation filled you, you weren't used to stepping into his trailer. You think you'd been in it once during the last seven months of production, grabbing his left behind cell phone before they traveled to location.

Steve didn't look at you the whole time, just muttering words under his breath as he held the brand new scripts in his hand. He was pacing, feet burning holes in the carpet of the trailer.

You slowly stepped in, apprehensively closing the door behind you. Hands clasped in front of you, you stood in close proximity to the door, eyes shifting over the large trailer.

He had clothes thrown over one end of the vehicle, previous scripts sitting on the makeshift table, and a half full glass of a dark colored liquid next to it. You eyed it, brow furrowing as you swore this man had been sober for the past few years--or at least, that's what the news outlets said about him. Not like you kept up.

"Sir," you interjected his thoughts, causing him to stop in place. He still didn't look at you. "Why am I here?"

Curt answers were the easiest way for you to pretend to be nice to him. You knew you couldn't be outright rude, this was your boss after all. Saying stuff under your breath and if he accidentally heard was another thing.

He ignored you.

"How is this supposed to be the Oscar nomination when they have me acting like this?" He exhaled a small shout at the end of his words, your eyes squinting at the volume. "Does this make sense to you? It's like they want me to make a fool of myself, no?"

You shifted uncomfortably, glancing at the floor. "I'm not sure how you want me to answer that, sir."

He waited a moment, sighing loudly as he collapsed on the couch, arm thrown over his eyes. You looked at him then, seeing the way his chest heaved as he shook his eyes. The sun was setting now, golden hour lighting inching through the windows over his figure. His bed head was still wild, even more messy than it was previously.

"W-what would you like me to do, sir?" You asked, arms crossing over your chest as you felt the awkwardness creep into the air. This was the longest you had been in a room with him, at least, with no one around.

Glancing at the watch on your wrist, you took note of your 'shift' being almost over. It was a quarter to seven, your freedom lingering in the distance.

"Sir?"

"Enough!" He cut out, breaking his silence. You jumped at the words, ducking your head as his outburst came. This was the Steve you knew, the short tempered boss who was always so moody whenever things didn't go his way.

You opted for silence, not daring to speak as you awaited his next choice of words.

His arm left his face, palm running down his features as he stared into the ceiling of the trailer.

"Sorry, I just," his voice was significantly lower. He sat up on the edge of the couch, his palms resting on his thighs. "I just need you to take me home."

Your eyes closed briefly, irritation quickly crossing you as you realized this was going to be a longer day than you imagined. If Steve had needed you longer than you were scheduled, then so be it.

"Why?" The word wasn't supposed to come out, replacing the 'okay' that sat on the edge of your mouth.

His gaze cut to you quickly, searching your face as you stood there. Eyes burning slightly, you felt tears prickling. The pint of Ben & Jerry's ice cream, and Friends rerun marathon looking further away from you could bring you to tears.

"Because I employ you, do I not?" The harshness in his words did nothing but fuel the 'Hollywood Tell All' feature you planned for the day you quit.

"You do, sir, yes," You muttered, hands dropping to your side in defeat. "I just thought you'd drive yourself like normal. You know, day ends, and I'll see you here the next day, eight sharp like normal."

"I can't--no," he answered, standing up as he gathered his things. "I don't have to explain myself to you. You just need to take me home. You can drive my car."

The words to protest him were lost in your throat. You complied with his actions, eyes to the floor as he finished gathering his things. Following him out of the trailer, you sighed, feeling like you were walking into a lion's den.

The walk to the private lot was silent, Steve grumbling to himself as he texted someone on his phone. You noticed his phone ringing several times, his thumb finding the red button to end it each time. Curse words came out of his mouth every few seconds, a few from your own mouth being added to the mix as you thought of ways to leave.

As the two of you came across an old school beemer sitting deep in the parking lot, he threw the keys at you, settling into the passenger seat. Reluctantly, you slide in the driver's seat, feeling the leather interior beneath your fingers.

"Nice car, boss," You whispered, checking out how the car didn't even look a day out of 1985. Steve side eyed you, nodding at the compliment before returning to his phone.

"Get us there in one piece, yeah?"

You sucked your teeth as his comment, shaking your head before starting the car. It was like it was impossible for him to be a decent person. Here you were, doing something for this man which may or may not be in your contract, and he couldn't even say thank you to a compliment about his car.

The ride was silent save for an old tape that played in the car. Some band from the 80's you noted, a little too old for your taste. Steve's fingers tapped away at his phone, not focused on the LA traffic you sat in for most of the drive. He gave you directions to his swanky high rise, ignored you as you struggled to keep up with him.

You pulled into an underground garage, valet men coming immediately, opening the door for you as they took the keys. Everything happened in such fast motion, you barely noticed he was half way to the elevator. Jogging to catch up with him, you turned your own attention to your phone, thumb hovering over the Uber app.

Steve took a call, fingers rapidly pressing the elevator button as he spoke (yelled) at the person on the other end.

"No, Robin, I'm not doing that, okay?" He said, voice gruff as he glanced at you. You heard the static voice of the person on the other line, seeming to be yelling at him too.

The elevator dinged, the two of your bodies stepping in as the doors opened. The transportation app on your phone lagged, loading bar stagnant on your screen.

"No, I get it, it's been years. Fine, I-" Steve groaned in frustration, eyes repeatedly shifting over to you as you tried to tune out the phone call. You stared at the numbers the elevator passed, the first floor blinking by before you could say anything. Your phone remain in your hand, screen dimming as it began to time out.

"Robin. I know."

The voice on the other line picked up, the woman's voice growing even louder. Steve pulled the phone away from his ear slightly, grimacing at the volume. The elevator stopped at a floor labeled 'P', doors opening to a mini lobby that ended in double doors. He went over to unlock them, key fob in his hands as a beep sounded through the empty room.

As he stepped through them, phone balanced on his shoulder with his ear pressed to it, he looked at you. You stood right outside the elevator, doors closing behind you as you didn't know what to do.

He held open his front door, hand waving at you in frustration. "Well, are you coming in?"

You pressed your lips together, another wave of irritation pulling at your teeth. Eyes half rolling, you nodded, entering the doors as he closed and locked it behind you.

Steve moved fast, throwing his jacket over a couch that lay in the middle of the giant room, toeing off his shoes by its side. You stood in place, not sure what to do as your boss made his way around his home.

You took note of the place, not picturing that he would live in a place like this. It was modern, with a touch of old school fashion. Retro furniture, expensive nonetheless. Floor to ceiling windows, overlooking the city. However, not a touch of life, no personal pictures, no sign of family, or anything personal that may shine light on what type of person he truly was.

You stepped in further to the place, watching as Steve made his way to a cabinet in his kitchen. Observing him over the breakfast bar, you saw into the open kitchen, watched him as he grabbed a rocks glass and a bottle of something pushed far back into a cabinet.

He continued on the phone, placing it on speaker as he began to open the bottle. He struggled at first, face turning up as his hands twisted on the cap.

Slowly making your way around the room, you glanced around, expecting him to yell at you for even being here, despite inviting you in.

"Steve," you heard the voice on the other line say. His eyes drifted towards the phone, pouring a hefty shot. "All I'm saying is, I miss you. And care for you. I love you. I want you to be okay today, alright?"

Steve grunted in response, not noticing your proximity to him. You cleared your throat slightly, wanting to gain his attention.

The woman on the phone waited for more of a response. Once it was clear she wasn't going to get one, she sighed. "If you change your mind, you know where to find us."

"Yeah sure," his tone was rude, eyes boring into the glass of dark liquid that sat in front of him. His fingers danced at the rim.

"Eddie would've wanted you to come."

Steve's body language immediately stiffened, finger moving to hang up the phone before throwing back the shot of liquor. His face grimaced at the taste, slamming the glass back on the table.

You didn't know what to say, looking anywhere but at your boss.

"Fuck, I forgot you were even here," he suddenly said, hand running through his hair. His hand was on his hip, eyes glossy as he looked at you. You chewed at your bottom lip, nodding as he stared at you. He pointed to the alcohol, shrugging. "Drink?"

Declining, your head shook. "I don't drink, sir."

"Ahh," he said, grabbing the glass and bottle as he headed towards the couch. "Good girl."

He threw himself down on the furniture, exhaling loudly as he stretched out. His eyes were closed as you stood across the room.

"Hey, I-I think I'm gonna go," you said, beginning to walk towards the exit. "I'll see you tomorrow."

As you crossed the room, Steve's voice called out to you. Your movements stopped, turning on your heel to look at him.

"Stay?" He asked you, eyes huge as they looked in your direction. You took note of his features, blinking at him as he awaited your response. Your boss was approaching his 40's, however, in this moment, he looked just like a little kid. Pictures of him in his teen years you had seen on the Internet were pushed to the forefront of your mind.

"I don't think that's a good idea, Mr. Harrington," you muttered, wanting to leave the scene.

His eyes fell to the floor briefly before he spoke out, "Steve."

"Huh?" You were confused, this sudden change in his attitude.

"You can call me Steve," he said, shifting his body as he relaxed into the couch. "We've known each other for a few years now, figured we should might as well be on a first name basis."

Fighting back the eye roll, you were reminded in the ways your boss had made your life into chaos.

"I bet you a million dollars, you don't even know my name, sir."

His gaze softened, laughing out loud as your hard exterior slowly came back.

"Yn." He muttered, smile dancing at his mouth.

You didn't know what to say, stuck between dashing out of his apartment or staying and seeing what type of Steve Harrington you were going to get today.

"I figure I should apologize for the way I've acted today," he said, turning forward as his gaze left your way. You didn't know why, but your feet followed it, walking closer so you could sit next to him. Lowering your self on the couch, you felt self conscious, like he was going to snap any second.

You snorted, "Today?"

He was staring at the bottle of alcohol in front of him, smile still on his face. Laughing at your comment, he shrugged.

"I have been a dick, haven't I?" He whispered, shaking his head as the smile slowly dropped from his face. His voice dropped to a whisper, eyes unfocused as he stared in front of himself. "Such a fucking dick."

You didn't know why, but you felt the need to comfort the man. He was clearly going through something at the moment, if the look alone on his face was any tell.

"Hey, not too bad of one," you wanted to reach out to grab him.

"Don't lie," he laughed, head turning your way. His eyes met yours, deep brown staring into the color of yours. You noticed moles dotting his face, slight lines of aging covering his features. He was still youthful, his eyes telling the tale of a once young boy who was within. "I've been terrible. And you don't deserve that."

A pang hit your heart, feeling the weight of his words. You didn't really deserve his treatment. No matter if he paid you or not.

He continued his words, eyes staring past you. "And yet here I am, sitting here with my assistant. Drinking for the first time in years." A laugh bubbled out of him, hands running down his face as he leaned further back into the couch. "You know I'm supposed to be in Indiana right now?"

You shook your head, not wanting to interrupt him. Making yourself comfortable, you took off your shoes, slipping your feet underneath yourself.

"Well, I'm supposed to be in Indiana, it's the 20th anniversary of, uhm," his voice cracked, eyes welling up with a tear that was blinked back. "It's the anniversary of one of my friend's dying, and I'm not there."

Breath catching in your throat, you didn't know what to say.

"I'm sorry, sir," you muttered, hand reaching out to rest at his thigh. The touch was inappropriate, but so was this interaction you could say.

He looked down at your hand, watching your thumb as it brushed over his jeans.

"It's okay," he responded, eyes finding yours again. "It's been so long."

You nodded, eyes scanning his face as he forced the corners of his mouth to be turned into a smile. You saw right through it, recognizing the pain of a lost loved one straight through. "I don't think that matters."

His face dropped, sincerity crossing his features as he dipped to glance at your hand once more. Silence over took the two of you, the faint sounds of the streets of LA below you, Steve's staggered breathing as he willed himself not to cry. You were patient, finding comfort in the air as he found his words.

"We were all so young, and it feels so long ago, almost like it doesn't exist anymore," he finally said, voice even. "But I know it does. I just have to face it, I've been running from it ever since it happened."

He gestured to his surroundings, and the puzzle clicked into place. This fame and jerk persona that Steve carried himself in, hid the real him. He ran from all of his problems, like anyone else would, especially when dealing with something as traumatic like he had.

You didn't know the details, didn't care to ask, since it seemed to affect him so much. All you knew was that person who had passed so long ago did matter to him, in ways that you couldn't imagine.

Letting him continue his mumblings about the person he used to know, you found out that his name had been Eddie, the one you heard on the phone before. Robin, long time best friend of his, was trying to get him to come out to reconnect with everyone, he hadn't seen much of them since the 'accident', as he had called it. He kept in touch with everyone over the phone, but seeing them in person was a whole different story. It opened up old wounds that he was afraid of what it might bring out.

The story was slightly confusing, him mentioning something about how they all had nearly lost their lives, details that would leave you wondering what this man had gone through. None of this information was available about him in the public, his childhood always being a vague story that never connected.

"So you have kids then?" You questioned, confused on how you never picked up on this detail. There had to have been at least five of them, names you had never heard before now.

Steve laughed suddenly, shaking his head as his hand rested on your own thigh. The two of you were much closer now, as his story unfolded. Your thighs were touching, each other's hands on resting upon each other, mere inches away from your faces.

"No, I don't have any. I guess, I should stop calling them kids now, you know?" His laugh was low in his throat. "They have kids of their own at this point, so they're far from it."

"Oh..." You were dumbfounded, all of this information being at a loss to you. You weren't here to understand, just here to listen.

"You know what, I'm sorry," he suddenly said, removing his hand from your leg. You wanted to whine at the absence, cold replacing his warm touch. "Maybe you should go, actually. This is pretty, uhm..."

"Unprofessional?" You supplied, inching closer as your boss sat there, wide eyed looking at you. In the dark light of his apartment, you could see the way his brown eyes glimmered at you. "I guess we're even then, me calling you a twat earlier."

Steve cackled, pinching the bridge of his nose as he thought of the events earlier.

"I knew you said that!"

You blushed, fighting back your own smile.

"It's not my fault, you were acting like one." Your lips pursed together, observing the older man in front of you.

Silence crept over you, the first break in conversation since his phone call ended earlier. Steve stared at you, eyes darting over your features as his teeth scraped over his bottom lip. You felt shy under his gaze, not knowing what to think of the moment as your boss was closer in proximity than he had ever been in your life.

"Can I make it up to you?"

His voice was low, and you were nodding before you even knew what he meant. Grabbing your cheek in his hand, the man leaned forward, capturing your lips into his. The gasp in your throat was lost in his mouth, a shuttering moan coming out instead.

His lips were soft, slightly chapped as they moved against yours. Fluttering your eyes closed, you leaned into the kiss, moving your hand so it rest at the curve of his hip, belt loop curling in your fingers.

He tasted of whiskey, the remnants of the few shots he had earlier lingering on his tongue. Steve pulled away slightly, muttering, "This okay?" against your lips as you nodded, pulling him in by his hair with your other hand.

Your breath grew more shallow as the kiss continued, leaning back as Steve began to tower over you. He shifted in his seat, covering your body with his own as he began to push you back into the couch. His figure was large over yours, scent of vanilla and cedar nearly suffocating you.

With your back flush against the couch, Steve removed himself from your lips, pressing a slight kiss against your jaw. You arched into the touch, palms running over the tight muscle of his back.

"S-steve," you moaned, squeezing your eyes shut as his lips kissed over your neck. Each press of his mouth sent fireworks down your spine.

He returned his lips to yours, moving with a passion that was lacking previously, confidence replacing the apprehension he once felt.

Your legs spread, inviting him to nestle in between, the thick material of his jeans rubbing against your own. A bulge was present, the thought of what lay underneath sending goosebumps over your skin.

Steve was lost in the kiss, his mouth nipping at yours as he reached down to unbutton your pants, slipping a hand to run over the front of your panties.

"W-wait," you muttered, grabbing his wrist as you pulled away from the kiss. He was confused, mouth red and swollen. His fingers pressed at your covered clit, a small shot of pleasure running through you.

"What's wrong, Yn?" The hand connected to his elbow that propped him up, ran through your hair, tucking a strand behind your ear. Concern crossed his features, searching your face as doubt crossed it.

"I just, uhh," you felt shy, avoiding his eye contact as the words stumbled out. "I've never really done this before?"

His eyes bulged out, sitting up suddenly as he leaned over you. Closing your eyes in embarrassment, you pressed the palm of your hand to your forehead. Way to ruin the moment.

"Oh," he breathed, eyes wide as he scanned you. "We don't-- fuck, sorry. I'm so, uh, wow."

He stood up suddenly, leaving you laying on your back as embarrassment colored your cheeks. You didn't know what to say as the older man panicked.

"Maybe, uh, maybe this was a bad idea," he shook his head, hand reaching down to palm at the front of his pants. Your eyes followed his hand, noticing the prominent bulge.

You spoke out, shaking your head as you didn't make any effort to move. The turn of events tonight made you realize how much you did want the man who stood before you.

"No, we can, it's okay," you said, reaching out to grab his hand that hung by his side. He looked down at your grasp before bringing his eyes to meet yours. "It's alright."

He hesitated, sputtering over something to say.

"Steve, it's okay," you pulled him down, his knees straddling the sides of your hips as he reluctantly settled into the couch. His eyes ran over your body, lingering at the spot where your pants were unbuttoned, cotton panties exposed.

"A-are you sure?" He questioned, moving to lean back down over you. You nodded, leaning up on your elbows to press a chaste kiss to his lips. His tongue darted out, wetting your bottom lip.

A breathy moan escaped your mouth, palm caressing the front of his shirt.

"I want to, it's fine."

You knew it was now or never, this moment with your boss being an opportunity that you couldn't have passed up. You always had a crush on him growing up, the face of Hollywood you would see in your teen magazines, posters covering the room of your friends. Working for him would've never had you imagining that it would lead to this moment.

Steve took control of the situation, kissing down your neck as his hand returned between your legs, pants thrown across the room somewhere. It had happened so fast, you barely noticed the cool air that pulled goosebumps from your skin.

"Tell me if you want to stop, okay?" He muttered, freshly shaved stubble prickling against your chin. You could barely get out a moan as your underwear was pulled down your legs, catching at the crook of your ankles.

You felt his fingers brush over your folds, pressing lightly at the slick entrance. His thumb rubbed in small circles over your small bundle of nerves, an eye-rolling feeling that spread your legs apart. His fingers pushed inside, his own moan coming out over yours.

The feeling of the intrusion had you panting, spreading your legs wider while his thick fingers worked you.

"M-more," you begged, throwing your head back as his fingers found a rhythm. He stretched you out over two fingers at this point, thumb collecting slick as it rubbed over your clit.

Steve's fingers curled inside of you, brushing against your sweet spot deep inside. The look on his face was one of admiration, mouth slack as he looked down at you falling apart under his touch.

"That's okay?" His voice was husky, deep with arousal as your hips began to move in time with his fingers. Your orgasm was approaching, hips moving on their own accord as you chased that high.

"God, yes, Steve."

Pushing your shirt up past your bra, Steve gaped at the sight before him, your fingers dipping inside your bra to toy at your own breasts.

"You look so perfect, angel," he muttered, leaning down to capture your lips into his as you fell apart. That white blinding of your orgasm crept in, starting at the base of your spine and blossoming through your entire body. Against his mouth, you shouted out, squeezing your eyes shut as he fingered you through the high.

It took a minute for you to catch your breath, legs spasming from the shocks of the orgasm. You hissed at the over stimulation, Steve pressing into your clit one last time before removing himself from you.

You felt shy suddenly, the haze from the orgasm clearing as you realized you had just done unimaginable things with your boss. Seeming to read your mind, Steve pressed small kisses around the perimeter of your face.

"It's alright," he said, hovering over you. Against your thigh, you could feel his bulge rub against you. "How are you feeling, good?"

You nodded, words at a loss in your throat. You reached up to place a hand on his neck, the other at his waist as you played with the hem of his shirt. His eyes fluttered close briefly before glancing down at where you were slightly tugging his shirt up.

He made eye contact with you, chewing on his bottom lip. "I need words, angel. Gotta make sure everything is 100% okay, okay?"

"I'm alright, Steve," you gasped, looking down where your own hand rubbed at the exposed part of his abdomen. You needed more, wanted to feel him all over you. You began to pull his shirt over his body, watching as he glanced down at you with hooded eyes. "Just need more of you."

He slowly nodded, sitting back on his knees as he unbuttoned his own pants and slid them down his legs. You giggled at him as he struggled to get them off, the smoothness he had previously disappearing as he nearly toppled off the couch.

You pulled your own shirt and bra off of you, dropping them on the floor next to the couch. "Nice own, old man," you laughed, returning to your spot against the couch.

He frowned at you, lip jutting out in an over exaggerated pout. "Heeyy, I still got it."

You were left breathless, the laughter disappearing at the tip of your tongue as his figure returned to cover your body. The tip of his cock nudged at your entrance, the wetness pooling at the head leaving you gasping.

Steve reached down to rub his cock against the length of your cunt, spreading the slick all over as you arched into him.

"Fuuckk, Steve." You hooked your ankle over his hip, warmness pooling in your belly at the thought of him being inside you. His eyes raked over you, lingering on your nipples as they shook with each moan you gave.

"You sure about this, Yn?" He asked, leaning down to dart his tongue over the skin of your breast. It sent shivers down your spine, another wave of heat rushing to your core. "I don't want to do anything you'll regret."

"'M not gonna regret this," you gasped, feeling the way the head of his cock slightly pushed at you. It burned, fuck, he was big.

The slight intrusion had you gripping at his back, leaving crescent moon marks in the skin. Your breath came out ragged, a whine scratching at the back of your throat.

Steve grunted at you, pushing in slowly as he buried his head into your shoulder. He stopped every few inches, hips stuttering slightly as he fought back to urge to fuck back into you full force.

Being an all new feeling, you couldn't help but mewl at every burn of the stretch, a fullness you had never experienced before.

He pressed to the hilt, hips flush against yours as Steve gasped for air in tune with you. He pulled his head back to make eye contact with you, forehead resting against yours. You felt the slight grinding of his hips against yours, the fullness becoming too much as you were stretched over him.

"You gotta bare with me, baby." The nickname had you moaning, fingers reaching down to dig at the plumpness of his ass. You could barely keep your eyes open, senses overwhelmed with Steve. "'S been a while for me."

Nodding, you gasped as he reared his hips back before they stuttered into you again. The movement sent a wave of slick between your thighs again, pleasure blinding you.

He found his rhythm, hips fucking into you slowly, languidly as you fell apart beneath him. You rocked with every movement of his hips, hands running over the tan skin of his body above you.

Finding his lips, you moaned against his mouth, savoring the feeling that was building up in your abdomen as the two of you moved in sync.

Steve gave you words of affirmation, hips drilling into you over and over as his cock brushed over your deep bundle of nerves. Bliss approached you once more, wetness dripping all over him as you were brought to that high again.

"Gonna cum, Steve," you whispered against his mouth, back arching into him. He reached down between you, fingers toying at your clit as they began to rub in small circles.

"Cum for me baby," he breathed, voice low as your eyes rolled back. His voice brought you over the edge, high shout escaping your lips as that pleasure took over you again.

As he fucked your through your orgasm, his own approached, hips losing their rhythm as you felt his release deep inside you. A low groan of his came out, a breathy fuck being the last thing you remember before you closed your eyes.

Your body felt light, head foggy as you came down from your orgasm. It was pure bliss what you felt, heart pounding in your chest as sleep took over you.

You shot out of bed, frantically searching for your phone as you realized the sun was creeping through the curtains. Crisp, white sheets were pooled around you, swallowing you up whole.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," you muttered, trying to search for your device in the darkness of the room. The dark curtains were drawn, only allowing a sliver of light in, but enough for you to realize how late in the morning it was.

As your eyes adjusted to the darkness, anxiety crept over you, realizing you weren't in your room. A tossing figure lay next to you, his body half covered as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes. In that moment, everything from last night came crashing back, embarrassment flooding your cheeks.

"Hey, Yn, what's wrong?" Steve's voice was groggy, as he blinked in the darkness of the room. He glanced towards the curtains and then to you, noticing the way you covered your frame with the corner of the sheet.

"What time is it?" You half shouted, looking on the bedside table for your phone. Steve was no help, slowly stretching out his limbs as he yawned.

"Too fucking early for you to be that loud," he muttered, sitting up on his elbows. The sheet pooled around his waist, exposing his bare abdomen and a deep V that cut below his waist.

You quickly looked away, blush deepening on your face. "We have to go, Ste-Mr. Harrington. We're gonna be in so much trouble."

You heard him chuckle at you, sighing as he relaxed once again in the bed. His arms circled your waist, pulling you down into him as you continued to panic. He lay behind you, your head resting on his chest as he buried his face into your shoulder.

"Shhh," he whispered, tightening his grip on your waist. "Called in today, came down with something apparently."

You shook your head, resting your hands on his where they rested on your stomach. "Can you even do that?"

"What are they gonna do? Fire me?" He laughed, pressing a light kiss to your shoulder. The anxiety that built up in your spine disappeared at his touch, the familiarity of his body replacing it. You turned in his arms, now chest to chest with the man.

His eyes were closed, sleepiness still evident over his features.

"Are you going to fire me?" You whispered at him, watching as his brow furrowed before he squinted open his eyes at you.

"What? No, what are you talking about?" He seemed genuinely confused at your question, hand rubbing at your waist. Relief took stake in your chest.

"I slept with my boss last night," you laughed at yourself, voice dropping even lower as you saw a smirk cross his face. He was smug, shaking his head with laughter as you playfully slapped at his chest.

"Pretty sure I'm the one with a lawsuit pending if anything," he said, laughter dying as you placed a small peck to his lips.

As you pulled away, he leaned into it further, tongue darting out to lick at yours. A wave of arousal pooled in the pit of your stomach.

He towered over you, mouth nipping at you as you sighed into the kiss. The two of you moved in sync, you moving onto your back as Steve leaned over your figure. A breathy moan escaped your lips, only to be cut off by his phone ringing.

"For fuck's sake," he grumbled, separating himself from you as he reached for it on his side of the bed. He answered it quickly, realizing it was his publicist as he placed it on speaker. "What d'you need, man?"

His lips returned to yours briefly, before kissing down your neck. The sheets were slowly pulled off of you as he made his way down, nipping at your chest, then your nipple, and soft kisses pressed to your stomach.

Your mouth fell open in a silent moan, trying to stay as quiet as possible as his publicist droned on about some appearance he had to make in the next week. Steve was staring up at you, making small confirmation 'mhm's' in response to the phone call. A coy smile was on the corners of your mouth as you looked down at him wide eyed.

'Stop' you mouthed through gritted teeth. He nipped at your hip bone in protest, shaking his head at you.

You couldn't tell if it was Steve's mouth pressing to your heat or the next word's of his publicist that made your stomach drop.

"While we're at it, Steve, how about we talk how Page Six has pictures of you with a mysterious somebody in your apartment building?" They grumbled, voice staticy as it came through the phone. You felt Steve smirk against you, tongue lapping between your legs. "Aren't we a little too old to bring people back to your own place like that?"

A moan escaped you as you gripped at his hair. Steve looked up at you, wide eyed as he reached up to slap a hand across your mouth. 'Shhh', he mouthed, his own laugh threatening to spill out as his publicist's voice faltered at the noise.

"St-steve?" It said, apprehension in the tone. "Are you doing what I think you're doing? Really, man?"

Steve laughed as his hand remained over your mouth, muffling the sounds of your own laughter. They would recognize it if they heard it. He grabbed the phone from where it lay abandon, speaking into it as his thumb hovered the 'end call'.

"Something came up, gotta take care of it," he grimaced at you as you licked his hand. "Bye!"

He hung up right as the voice protested, tossing his phone aside as he leaned over you once again. His long hair hung in his face, eyes raking over your naked body.

"Now... where were we?"

an: I had to sneak in a line from All of Us Strangers because that movie was so moving. If you know, you know. I promise one of these days, I won't make Steve an asshole right off the bat, he'll be lovable.

masterlist. inbox and requests are open!

[bookished]

( a collection of fun and adventurous dialogue prompts. adjust phrasing as necessary.) feel free to make edits to better suit your muse, but please don’t edit or add on to the original post <𝟑 if you like, please consider supporting me through tips, it's highly appreciated.

"Want to try sneaking into the movie theater?"

"There's this exclusive sky bar on the top floor. I bet if we act confident enough, we could just walk right in. Ready to blend in with the high rollers?"

"You know the 'Staff Only' areas in aquariums always look so intriguing. I've got an idea involving lab coats and clipboards. Interested?"

"There's a secret passage in this art gallery that leads to a hidden exhibit. I overheard the curator talking about it. Shall we go exploring?"

"I've always wanted to see a movie from the theater's projection room. I've got a friend who works here – you get what I mean?"

"So, that exclusive restaurant is fully booked for months, but I may have 'borrowed' a couple of names from the reservation list. Feeling adventurous?"

"The old amusement park's been closed for years, but I know a way in. Imagine having all those rides to ourselves under the moonlight."

"I heard there's an underground speakeasy in this library. Apparently, you need to whisper a password to the librarian. Wanna try our luck?"

"Remember that fancy pool party we weren't invited to? I've got two waiter uniforms and a brilliant plan. You in?"

"There's a secret rooftop garden on top of that skyscraper. I bet we could talk our way past security if we pretend to be lost interns."

"I know this sounds crazy, but I found a hidden door behind the museum. Want to see where it leads after closing time?"

"The local TV station does live broadcasts from that studio. I bet with the right timing, we could sneak onto a set during a commercial break. Ready for your 15 seconds of fame?"

"I discovered a hidden hot spring in the woods just outside town. It's a bit of a hike, but imagine a midnight dip under the stars."

"There's a secret room in the library that's usually locked. I copied the key while volunteering. Want to see what forbidden books they're hiding?"

"Remember that fancy cooking class that was full? Well, I may have found a way for us to observe from the kitchen's back entrance. Hungry for some culinary espionage?"

"I know how to get onto the roof of the tallest building downtown. The view of the sunset from up there is incredible. Shall we?"

"There's a masquerade ball at the governor's mansion tonight. I've got two masks and a wild idea. Care to crash a high-society party?"

"My friend works at the zoo and says we could help feed the penguins after closing time. Interested in a secret animal encounter?"

"I heard this old theater is supposedly haunted. Want to sneak in after hours and do some ghost hunting?"

"There's a secret beach hidden behind those cliffs. The catch? We'll have to climb down a rope ladder to reach it. You up for it?"

"I found an old map of the city's underground tunnels. Fancy a subterranean adventure date?"

[gammasnippets]

[CHANNEL_9] fromis_9 '채널나인' EP59. Spotlighting 🐰 Part.2

fromis_9 Park Jiwon

13,150 words (Co-edited by @dr-occam)

It's been only a couple of hours since you entered the office, but after wrapping up with the prologue video to fromis_9's newest and most daring series, you suddenly feel a surge of excitement rush through your body. You thought that they only filmed something similar to popular sex comedy movies—nothing too explicit, nothing too wild. But after seeing that little teaser the previous editors added at the end of the video, you can't help but wonder just how intense things are going to get in the following episodes. Your mind begins to imagine all the things that may unfold in the next few videos, and you start to worry that you might spend more time jerking off than doing actual work.

Without hesitation, you rummage through the files in your computer for the first video that you plan to feature as the series' first episode. In your search, you stumble upon a video titled "park meg1". You have no idea who named this, but reading it makes you let out a low chuckle. You don't need to guess who's going to be featured in this video. The funny filename gives it away. But you still can't help but wonder how things will play out, given her hilariously ballistic personality.

You take a deep breath and click play, bracing yourself for the exciting events that awaits in the first episode of this series, with Jiwon as the main star.

After the intro, the video shows the entire filming complex from a drone camera as it soars through the sky, capturing the sheer beauty of the area and its surroundings. It then fades to a view of one of the complex buildings. You quickly remembered that this building is where some of the members are headed, namely Saerom, Gyuri, and Jiwon. You begin to wonder if you're going to see all of them in action, or if the focus will solely be on Jiwon for this particular episode. You don't know the answer, and it heightens your anticipation even more.

The camera then shows a hallway inside the building. It’s like any ordinary office building, with white walls and fluorescent lights overhead. As the camera pans down the hallway, you catches a glimpse of someone peeking from around the corner, a mischievous grin forming on their face—it’s Park Jiwon.

"Hello," she greets the camera, bowing, a sheepish smile on her face.

She enters the scene wearing a stylish mix of a green cardigan over a white sleeveless shirt, a plaid skirt, and white high heels. Her outfit exudes a good balance of professionalism and playfulness that suits her personality. She then gets out of her hiding spot and starts walking down the hallway, towards the filming crew.

Curiously, she's alone.

The cameramen greets her back in response. "Aren't you supposed to be with Saerom and Gyuri?" They follow up.

"Uhh... Yeah!" she replies, nodding. "But we went our separate ways since our challenges are in different places."

"So, are you ready for your challenge, Jiwon?" one of the crew can be heard asking her.

She pauses for a moment, a mischievous glint in her eyes, and replies with a smile. "I guess so. I think I'm ready."

She then proceeds to wander the hallway, looking for the place where her challenge will take place. After a few minutes of searching, she notices a door with a pink sign with fromis_9's logo in it.

Jiwon finally found the room with her name on it.

"Ah. This is it, right?" Jiwon looks at the camera crew filming at the corner of the room and asks them for confirmation. You can hear a soft voice from behind the camera, answering her question.

With her hands on the knob, she asks the crew one more time. "Can I come in?"

You didn't hear anything from the crew so they must've used gestures to tell her that she's free to enter.

"Okay. Thank you," Jiwon responds with a smile, bowing at the team as he enters the room.

Cameras installed on each corner of the room capture her every move as she pries the door open. She peeks her head inside the room, full of curiosity.

"Oh. This looks like an office—oh! Hello." Her internalized thoughts are interrupted as she sees a man inside the room, bowing at him.

The guy bows back to greet the beautiful visitor. "Hello. Are you Jiwon?"

"Yes. I was told to come to this room."

"I see. I will be your partner for today," the guy tells Jiwon in a friendly tone.

"Oh! Nice to meet you," Jiwon turns shy and bows at him one more time. Her eyes then sparkle as she scans the room as much as she can from where she's standing. "Is this your office?"

The guy chuckles. "For today, yes."

She gasps as she looks around the room. A stylish and modern-looking office decor with gray tones all over. There's a large wooden desk at the center of the room where a sleek computer sits beside a stack of papers—all in front of what looks to be a window overlooking the Seoul skyline, but is actually a series of monitors that show the stunning view of the city in real-time.

"Wow! Look at the city—wait. Is that just a huge screen?" she asks in amazement as she approaches the faux window.

The guy again chuckles at her innocence. "Yes. Yes, it is."

Jiwon exclaims. "That's awesome! I didn't know we had such a thing here."

"Pretty cool, isn't it?"

Jiwon nods enthusiastically. "Ah, yes. I hope the girls can see this room."

"Actually, there are other rooms similar to this," he tells her.

"Ah really?"

"Yes. They are quite different, though. Their purpose is to create different atmospheres while we're filming."

Jiwon just hums and nods her head in response, taking in all the information in fascination.

"We can visit the other rooms later," the guy adds.

Jiwon's eyes light up with excitement. "Really? We can do that?"

"Yes. After this shooting session, we can arrange a tour of the other rooms with the other members—"

"Wow!" she exclaims hearing the news, accidentally interrupting her partner mid-sentence. "Ah. Sorry."

"It's nothing," he smiles. "So, shall we start?"

His question suddenly makes Jiwon's face blush. She's not new to talking dirty—she always play around with her members in almost every manner possible, and seeing their response makes her excited to tease them more. However, something about the man’s subtle question has taken her aback… And she looks hesitant to respond.

"Ah... Y-yes. We can," Jiwon stammers, her voice filled with nervous anticipation.

He then gestures his hand telling her to step further into the office. "Well, after you."

She takes up the offer and walks forward. "Hmmm... So where should I..."

"Anywhere you want," he replies with a smile.

Upon hearing his suggestion, she again scans the room looking for a comfortable spot to settle into. There, the large leather chair in the middle of the room catches his eye. Jiwon starts to walk towards it and runs her fingers along the smooth surface of the chair, feeling its soft texture.

"Can I sit here?" she asks him with an excited glimmer in her eyes.

"Sure. Go ahead," he replies, his voice filled with a playful tone.

She immediately sits on the big chair, making herself comfortable and trying her best to look like she runs the place. "I wanna feel like a boss."

He chuckles at Jiwon's comment, finding her enthusiasm endearing. "Well you sure look like one."

"You think so?" she asks excitedly.

"Yes. Absolutely," he responds, admiring her confidence.

She chuckles at her response. "Oh, you..."

"I guess that makes me your… Assistant? Secretary, maybe?" he suggests, playing along with Jiwon's idea.

"Are you okay with that?" she asks.

"Of course," he replies. "I've worked in many jobs so I'm confident that I can support you in any role."

"Wow... You're amazing," Jiwon says, her voice filled with appreciation.

He bows upon hearing her compliment. "Thank you."

"So... How should we begin?" Jiwon asks him once again. "Do we kiss first? Or..."

She then follows up her question, smirking.

"Do we start undressing?"

"Whatever you want, Jiwon," he responds. "It's all about what makes you feel comfortable, so we can go at your pace."

"Hmmm..." Jiwon tries to think of an idea. "I think I'm okay with anything so long as it feels natural."

"I see," he nods. He then extends his hand toward Jiwon, gesturing to her to stand up. "How about this?"

She obliges by holding his hands, lifting her up from her seat. As their bodies move closer to each other, he slowly places his hands around her waist in a gentle embrace. It made her startle with a small gasp, feeling the warmth of his touch around her. But his gaze reassures her as if telling her that everything is fine.

Throughout this intimate moment, Jiwon finds something to lighten up the mood. "You're pretty cute."

"Thanks," he replies, giggling. "You're cute yourself."

"Oh, you..." Jiwon laughs playfully, softly hitting his chest with her soft hands.

As they share this sweet and playful banter, the air between them becomes thick with desire. His hands slowly slither lower her waist, down to her hips, until he reaches her ass. He gently squeezes it, eliciting a soft whimper from Jiwon's lips. She looks at where his hands are, before looking back at him with a mischievous glint in her eyes.

"Did I go too far?" he asks apologetically.

She shakes her head. "No. I was just surprised," she replies, smirking.

"Then if that's the case..." he leans further towards her, his lips trying to reach hers.

She then giggles at his boldness. "Well I wouldn't mind," she whispers as she tries to meet his lips with hers.

They begin to engage in a soft yet passionate kiss as they press their bodies against each other. As much of a beginner Jiwon is in this realm of intimacy, she tries to match his fervor with equal enthusiasm. It didn't take long until their kisses became in perfect sync with each other and their tongues started to slowly dance around each other's mouths, igniting a fiery desire between them.

After a few moments of intense kissing, his hands search for the ribbon that holds her skirt together, and slowly tugs it loose. At this point, Jiwon notices the intriguing activity his hands are creating behind her and parts away from his lips. Her eyes look deeply into his, filled with a mix of desire and worry.

"Are you..."

"Are we being too fast?" he asks, looking concerned.

"No," she shakes his head with a reassuring smile.

"Then why do you look like that?"

"I... I'm just a little nervous," she replies, laughing slightly.

"You don't know what to do next, don't you?" he asks again, his voice filled with understanding.

She replies with a nod.

"That's okay," he reassures her as he runs his hand through her hair. "That happens with everyone on their first time."

"I see," she responds.

"Do you want us to take it slow?" he asks gently.

"No," she tells him. "I'm fine with our pace."

"Then can you do me a favor?"

"What is it?"

"Can you help me with my shirt?" he asks, grinning.

"Oh. Can I?" she asks back, sounding unsure yet excited at the same time.

"Of course, you can," he replies, encouragingly before tugging the zipper of her skirt further down. "After all, Am I not playing with your skirt already?"

She then laughs softly at her playful response. "Yeah. Looks like you already are.”

Jiwon then starts to unbutton his shirt, her eyes focused on each button as her fingers skillfully navigate the fabric. As more and more buttons are undone, revealing his toned chest underneath, she bites her lower lip. Excitement can be spelled all over her face as she works her way down his shirt. As she's about to unclasp the last button, she feels skirt swiftly fall to the floor, startling her as the lacy purple lingerie she's wearing is now fully revealed. Her cheeks flush with a mixture of embarrassment and anticipation as she realizes the effect her lingerie has on him.

"They look absolutely stunning on you," he compliments her with a playful smirk.

Albeit being praised, Jiwon can't help but giggle at his words and playfully retorts. "My fans love me wearing this."

"Well consider me a fan," he responds, matching her playful tone.

She replies with a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Looks like this is turning into a fan event."

"You think so?" he asks with a teasing tone in his voice, his hand caressing and slowly pulling her face closer to his after successfully stripping off her skirt.

"A more... Private one, I'd say," she responds, biting her lower lip.

"Well, it's not every day that a fan gets this close and personal with their favorite idol," he adds, a flirtatious tone still evident in his voice.

"First day as a fan and you're already getting quite the treatment. Consider yourself lucky," she tells him with a seductive smirk.

"I guess I should push my luck. What do you say?" he asks her, leaning in closer until their lips almost touch.

Jiwon then responds by pressing her lips against his, giving her a short yet passionate kiss. "I say let's make this a fan event you'll never forget," she whispers in his ear, her voice filled with immense excitement and desire.

Once again, their lips met in a fervent kiss. Their passion consumes them as their hands travel and explore each other's bodies, leaving no inch untouched. She assists him in discarding his unbuttoned shirt, exposing his sculpted physique. Her partner, on the other hand, started working on the remaining pieces of clothing hindering him from bearing witness to her supple breasts. He patiently undid the shackle that holds her green cardigan and lets it fall to the ground. But his excitement got the better of him as he eagerly pulled her blouse apart, causing all the buttons of her skirt to fly across the room. With her blouse now completely open, her matching purple bra is now on full display, causing him to abruptly part from their kiss and gaze at her body in a mixture of both awe and desire.

"Fuck," he breathes out.

She giggles. "Liking the view?"

"I love it," he replies, his eyes alternating between her eyes and her chest with an undeniable hunger.

"You can touch them, you know?" she suggests in a playful tone, her eyes fixed at his with an inviting gaze.

Without hesitation and fueled by his desire, he reaches out and caresses her chest. Her soft and supple breasts molded perfectly to his touch, eliciting a soft moan from her lips. He continued to explore her body, tracing his fingers along her curves and savoring the way her skin felt against his touch. It didn't take long before his hands landed on her back, on its way to unclasp her bra and set her breasts free. As if second nature to him, he then unhooked her bra in a matter of seconds. He then watched as it fell from her chest down to the floor underneath, Jiwon's intimate glares glued at his as if she was silently challenging him to take the next step. As evident in her eyes, Jiwon sure is enjoying his gestures towards her, eliciting a series of pleasurable gasps and sighs at his every touch. This is making him want more, as would anyone caught in such an intimate and passionate moment.

Hungry for more, he relieves her from her standing position, slowly lifting her. His hands firmly grasp her thighs as support. Jiwon, enthusiastic as always, reciprocates as best she can. Her arms wrap around his neck and her legs, around his waist. Their bodies tilt against each other, ever closer than they were the entire time.

"Oh, my!" she exclaims, breathlessly. "Hope I'm not too heavy for you."

"Not at all," he reassures her with a playful wink. "I like it when I can carry you like this."

His remark elicits a mischievous smile from Jiwon. "Well, I actually want my ideal man to make me feel weightless."

"Is that so?" he responds with a soft giggle.

"Yes," the daring tone in her voice softens as she nods shyly. her cheeks flushing from the sudden question.

Seeing her blushing and innocent response, he can't help but feel captivated and flustered. "Hey. Your face is glowing red."

Jiwon hits him playfully on the chest, her flushed face turning even redder. "Oh come on! Stop that."

"Why? What's wrong?"

"Nothing," she replies. "Your question just caught me off guard."

"What's the matter? There's nothing wrong with that," he says, his voice filled with gentle reassurance.

"Yeah, you're right," she admits. "It's just that I never thought of having this topic with someone I just met."

"You're still nervous, aren't you?" he asks, his voice filled with understanding.

She only replies with a subtle nod.

"It's completely normal to feel nervous, you know?" he tells her, his forehead slowly tilting against hers. "That's why I'm here."

"I know that," she whispers. "So please take good care of me."

"As you wish," he whispers back as he plants a soft kiss on her lips.

He then gently places her down the nearby desk, a soft thud can be heard as her body rests on its smooth surface. Their intimacy rises as they continue to explore each other's bodies, their passion growing with each touch and caress. From her lips to her breasts, and to every inch of her skin, he leaves a trail of kisses, igniting her senses and bringing her to the edge of ecstasy. Jiwon can't help but let her luscious moans escape her lips as he expertly targets her weak spots and pleasures her in ways she can only imagine.

His continued exploration of her body led him down below her waist. His hands gently part her legs and knead her thighs with skillful strokes, sending her close to the height of orgasm. Her frantic moans become more and more sensuous as his methods intensify. He used this to his advantage, bringing his assault to a slower pace, teasing and prolonging the pleasure that built up inside her. The helpless lass then looks at him with pleading eyes, begging for release. He, knowing that he has eyes on him, looks up at her with a mischievous grin as he savors the anticipation he's drawing out of her.

"Hey..." she calls him.

"Yes?" he replies. "Liking it so far?"

She nods slowly. "I'm close to my limit," she gasps, her voice filled with a mixture of desire and desperation.

"But we're just starting," he teases her as his hands continue to caress her inner thighs.

"But I—hmmp! I want to..." she whimpers, as if aching for release.

"What is it? What do you want?"

She blushes, her voice barely audible as she expresses her deepest desires. "I want your..."

"Hmmm? I can't hear you, Jiwon," he tells her, looking at her with a sincere yet playful expression.

He leans in closer and retires his hand from between her thighs to gently caress her cheek. "Jiwon, I want you to say it louder," his eyes look into hers with a mix of tenderness and desire.

To anyone witnessing this exchange, it would seem like he is only teasing her. But his voice, low and intimate, makes it sound more like a command than a loving request. His intensifying attack on her senses is too much for her to handle as her inhibitions melt away. She lets out a restrained whimper as she drenches her panties, her body shaking as she’s finally giving in to her desires. She continues to moan and tremble, her now-soaked undergarment unable to contain her excess juices as it drips down to the desk.

After a brief moment of ecstasy, Jiwon slowly regains her composure, her cheeks flushed and her breath uneven. Everything at the moment is incomprehensible to her, except for her intensifying desire to experience it more. Her partner, on the other hand, relishes his masterpiece—an alluring idol bare-naked on top of an office desk, soiling the room they are in. He softly presses his thumbs against her soaked panties and rubs them against her sensitive clit, causing Jiwon to let out a gasp of pleasure. She can't help but arch her back, pushing herself further into his touch. After coating his fingers in her essence, he takes a moment to lick it. He savors her sweet nectar for a brief moment before sharing it with her, pressing his fingers against her soft lips. And like an obedient puppy, she licks it off and begins to suckle on his fingers, tasting herself most intimately.

"How is it?" he asks her.

"Good," she whispers, her voice filled with satisfaction. "I like it."

He smirks, satisfied with her answer. "That's how you taste. You know that, right?"

She softly nods for an answer.

"Do you want more?" he suggests in a playful and sultry tone.

She nods again and bites her lower lip. "What more do you have in mind?"

Satisfied with her response, he pounces on her, his lips peppering her neck with kisses as her hands fondle every inch of her body. Her sweet moans fill the room once more as he relentlessly explores and pleasures her, their intimate connection growing stronger with each passing moment. His weight then slowly pushes her against the desk, pushing every pen and paper away until most of her body covers its surface. They continue this sultry fiasco until the air condition barely keeps up with their ever-intensifying heat. Their skins start to perspire, adding to the sloppy juices Jiwon's pussy creates on the once clean and tidy table.

He breaks his hold on Jiwon and takes a step back, marveling at the sensuous masterpiece that is her naked body.

"Fuck..." he breathes out. "You look so hot."

His compliments touch her senses as if he still has his hands on her. Her body squirms as her words slowly penetrate her skin. Yet her eyes look at him, filled with unfulfilled desire, yearning for his touch once again.

"Come on. Why did you stop?" Jiwon whines.

"I just want to take a good look at you for a moment," he tells her with a mischievous grin.

"Awh... But can't you look at me up close?" She follows up.

He nods, admitting that she has a valid point. "I just don't want to forget how good you look naked."

His intimate words seep under her skin once again, and parts of her body slowly redden as her face blushes once more.

"I want you closer to me," she purrs, her eyes filled with luscious longing as her arms slowly reach for him in a gesture of warm embrace.

As any person in the world would know, such a sultry invitation is too hard to resist. He knows that he should fulfill such a request... And that he shouldn't keep a woman waiting.

Her partner reaches for the belt in his pants and quickly unbuckles it. He then bites his lip as he loosens his pants and pulls both it and his boxers down and off his skin, baring himself naked and freeing the hardened boner that he's been keeping all this time. And after taking a deep breath, he looks at her with eyes that are full of hunger, like a beast ready to pounce on its prey.

Jiwon looks back at him, amazed at his naked body as he was to hers. As she scans his entirety, her eyes slowly glance at his exposed cock as it twitches in sync with his breathing. She covers her agape mouth from the sight of his erect boner, marveling at its length and girth.

Her expression gives him another moment of satisfaction, realizing the effect he has on her.

"So? What do you think?" he asks Jiwon as he confidently poses in front of him, his back arched slightly forward, his hands on his waist and his cock standing tall and proud.

"I... Is that..." she stammers, her voice trailing off, trying to find the right words as his monolithic asset distracts her thoughts.

He follows the direction of her eyes, making sure that she's starting where he thinks she is and smirks, knowing he has her full attention. "Yes, it is. First time?"

Jiwon pauses for a brief moment, hesitating to give him an answer. "I... Y-yes... I mean..." 

Despite looking confused, she also looked cute as she tried to find the right words. Her adorable display of nervousness made him chuckle. "It's fine. I get it."

"Were you... Was it... Already like that from the beginning?" she curiously asked.

He lets out another chuckle after hearing her query.

"No. It wasn't like that when you first entered the room. But after a few minutes of us teasing each other, it couldn't resist growing like this."

Astonished, she gulps and blushes more, finding herself drawn deeper into this intense and sensual atmosphere. He then slowly approaches Jiwon. He spread her legs, revealing a full view of her wet folds. She blushes as he sees him bite his lips at the sight of her exposed pussy. He presses his length against its lips and leans his body towards hers, grazing her sensitive part as their bodies slowly make contact with each other. The closer they become, the more she mewls in pleasure. She looks at him with pleading eyes as if asking her what happens next. He didn't answer. Instead, he pecks her soft lips, teasing her of the unknown, making her shiver in excitement. As much as her body yearns to have him enter her, he keeps his hands to himself, holding back his carnal desire as he savors the moment. She whimpers, feeling that she is being deprived of what she truly wants, begging him with her eyes to take her. He slowly bites his lip again, savoring her response.

"What do you want?" he asks her, his voice deep and husky.

She only responds by closing her eyes and gasping for air, her body aching for his touch. She squirms as she tries to arch her body towards his. He lets go of her, only to feel her arms wrap around him and press her naked body against his.

"I..."

She tries to speak, her breath uneven and her face flushed. "I want you in me."

He looks at her, his eyes burning with passion. "I didn't quite catch that."

"I want you in me," she repeats.

"I want you to fill me."

"Already? Don't you want to play a bit more?" he asks, a teasing grin on his face

"But I... I want to—" Her hesitation is interrupted by his lips, giving her a full kiss. Her drive for this moment makes her respond in kind, her lips matching his every movement. And once again, their tongues lash against one another in a dance of raw lust and carnal desire. She continues to whimper as they make out, the intensity of his actions only add fuel to her flames. As the passion between them grows, her body squirms to the point that her legs wrap around his waist.

"What is it that you want, Jiwon?" he asks again, as he parts away from the kiss.

"I want your..." She stops as his fingers land on her wet folds. Her back arches and her legs part more as she tries to get her answer out. "I want you inside me."

"I see," he smirks.

He then slowly moves his hips, causing her cock to rub against her wet lips, slowly working its way in. Her whimpers become more frequent, her breathing becomes more desperate and uneven. As his length moves against her entrance, her body tenses as her voice starts to squeak. He watches Jiwon as she pants and whimpers in pleasure, her eyes full of desire and desperation. It is such a sight to behold.

"Fuck! I'm gonna cum again!" she squeals, unable to bear the pleasure any longer.

His lips curl into a devious smirk. "Then cum as much as you want," he tells her in a deep and lustful voice.

His voice became her signal to let go of her last restraint. She squirts yet again, a fountain of sweet nectar pours out of her. Her eyes close as she savors the moment, her legs wrapped around his waist and her arms held onto him. Her mind starts to go blank as her orgasm becomes more intense, her body going limp and her senses.

As she whines and writhes in the heat of the moment, she tries to grab onto the edge of the desk to steady her body as it trembles in the throes of ecstasy.

She pants as her orgasm slowly fades. Her mind is still a mess but her body still burns with desire. She looks at him, eyes full of pleading, begging for him to finish what they started.

"Oh dear," she looks at the mess she's caused on the desk, worried at the stains left behind from her arousal.

"It's fine," he reassures her. "You've done a good job, Jiwon."

"Mmmh... Thank you," she whispers, still struggling to find her words.

He grazes her cheek, trying to fix the locks that fell off her face as a result of their passionate activities. "Now... Shall we continue?"

She only nods in response. "I'll try to make you feel as good as I can..."

"You don't need to," he replies. "Let us just enjoy the moment as it is."

"Well... If you say so," she meekly nods.

Like a routine, their lips press against each other once more. They exchange kisses filled with love and lust. Jiwon's body reacts with a series of gasps and soft moans, her voice filling his ears with an enticing melody. His cock hardens even more, the tip pressing against her sensitive clit. She squirms as his slightest attempt of entry makes her shiver, the anticipation of what's about to come only amplifies her desire for him.

His hands then caress her sides, feeling the soft and smooth texture of her skin. It's like they're molded to his touch, perfectly sculpted for his fingertips to explore and please. He then proceeds to hold her ass, squeezing it gently as it fits perfectly in his palms. Exploring her body is almost second nature to him at this point, making her gasp and whimper at every touch and caress.

As they get lost in such an intimate moment, they get interrupted when the computer monitor suddenly turns on. On its screen displays a message that says "CLICK ME". Their curiosity gets the better of them as they reluctantly obey the prompt.

"Hmmm? What is this?" she asks, curious at what this message is.

"Ah, right. It's for the challenge," he tells her.

"Oh really? What is it?"

"I have no idea, to be honest," he responds. "Maybe try clicking that thing on the screen."

Jiwon reaches for the mouse that is almost about to fall off the table and presses on the pointer icon, the cursor automatically changes into an arrow and points towards one of the folders on the screen.

"You mean this one?" she asks.

He nods. "I guess so."

A window then pops up where it says the following;

"SPOTLIGHTING CHALLENGE: LOVE ON-CALL

As the "boss", you should answer calls on the nearby telephone as you have sex with your "secretary" partner.

The "boss" has to be as inconspicuous as you can during a call.

If the caller notices something odd, the call ends.

The "boss" should finish 2 uninterrupted calls within the time limit.

Complete this mission to earn your group a reward.

GOOD LUCK AND HAVE FUN!"

The screen then shows a timer. They have 3 hours to complete the mission handed to them.

"Having sex while on the phone? For 3 hours?" She reads the mission description out loud. "Oh no. Can I do that?" she whispers to herself, doubting her skills.

"Well, it's your first time doing this so it might be tough," he tells her, giving her a gentle kiss. "But I know you can do it."

She smiles. "Thank you. Just don't do it rough, okay?"

"I can't promise you that," he chuckles, before planting a kiss on her nose. "But I'll try."

She pouts at his response, looking disappointed yet excited. "You better be."

"So, shall we begin?" He asks, his hands tracing along her sides.

Jiwon gulps nervously as her eyes look back at him, as if afraid. She then nods, agreeing to his suggestion.

He then positions himself between her legs as she unwraps hers and opens her thighs wide to make room for him. As their bodies slowly and gently meet each other, the tension between them rises again as his boner makes another contact with her wet folds. This time, instead of teasing the seductive lady, he tries to penetrate her. Jiwon's body starts to react once more, feeling the tingling sensation of being filled as his cock grazes her entrance. He stops when her body tenses, her whimpers becoming more desperate than ever. She arches her back as the moment becomes too much for her to handle. He looks down at her, finding it adorable how her eyes are full of expectation and how she's trying her best to hide it. It was then that he pushed a little more, slowly and gently entering her tight tunnel.

She screams as he breaks through the entrance of her cunt, a mixture of pain and pleasure overwhelming her.

"Oh fuck!" Jiwon exclaims. "You're so big!"

Her moans are like compliments to his ears. "You like that, huh?" he asks, his voice low and seductive.

"Yes... Please, more," she whispers, her voice shaking in ecstasy.

His hands then hold onto her ass, spreading her cheeks and making her even more vulnerable. He thrusts harder, eliciting more moans from Jiwon. His thrusts are slow at first, but after a while, he starts to move at a quicker pace, his body gradually becoming one with hers.

At the height of their intimacy, the phone in the office starts to ring. They both stop for a moment, their bodies tense from the interruption.

"It's the phone," he tells Jiwon. "It's ringing."

"What now? Who's gonna answer?" she asks with a perplexed expression.

"You," he answers. "The challenge for you, so..."

"Ah, right," she nods in agreement, reaching for the telephone at the edge of the desk.

"Good luck," he tells her, smiling.

"Don't do anything sudden, okay?" she warns her with an angry yet playful look on her face.

He laughs, albeit softly. "I'll try."

She gives him another poorly intimidating glare before answering the call.

"Hello?"

"Hi! I'm calling on behalf of the R&D department. Is the boss available?" a feminine voice is heard from the other side of the receiver.

"Ah, yes. One moment, please," she tells her before looking at him, eyes wide with concern.

"What is it?" he asks her.

"Uhh... They call for the boss," she whispers back to him. "That's me, right?"

He nods encouragingly and whispers, "Yes. You told me earlier."

"Huh? Was that for real?" she asks again, surprised.

"I guess so," he chuckles. "Can you do it?"

"Hmmm," she ponders. "I'll try."

"You can do it," he whispers, giving her a peck. "You're amazing, after all."

"Thanks," She blushes, the subtle remark making her heart beat faster. "But what should I tell them?"

He shrugs. "I don't know, really. Just play it out, I guess."

"Hello? Is anyone still there?" the caller asks.

"Ah! Yes, I'm still here," Jiwon brings her attention back to the caller before pushing the speaker button on the device.

"Hi! Is the boss available?" she asks again.

"Yes. You are speaking to her," she tells her, her voice turning into a more professional tone. "How can I help you?"

She then takes a quick glance at her partner for what she has done so far. "Is this okay?"

He nods and gives her a thumbs up, "Keep it up."

"Ah, right. It's about the upcoming projects for the department," the caller then answers.

"I see. So what do you have in mind?" she asks, her tone is soft yet polite.

"We wanted to see if we could, uhh..." the voice trails off for a moment. "One second. I'm looking for the files."

As the caller is taking her time to rummage through her papers, Jiwon's partner leans back towards her and begins to tease her with a flurry of kisses all over her body.

"Ah, hey! What're you doing?" Jiwon asks him with a flustered look on her face.

"Hello? Did you say something, boss?" the caller asks, getting the attention of her partner.

"Shhh," he whispers as he pecks her lips.

"Ah! That was nothing!" Jiwon shouts, a little bit too loudly for her liking. "Um... Go on."

He then stops his kisses and moves away from her. "That was close," he whispers. "Don't get caught."

She angrily whispers at him for the small ruckus he created. "It's your fault!"

"Well we can't just answer calls and not do anything else, right?" he teases her, smirking.

"I know. Sorry," her tone immediately changes, giggling at what just happened. "You just caught me off guard."

"Then I should do it slowly, then," he continued his teasing, slowly thrusting his hips forward and back inside her.

"Oh fuck..." she moans, biting her lip as she tries to suppress her voice. "Yeah, I like it like that."

"Hmm? I didn't hear you," the caller asks, her voice showing a bit of irritation.

"Uhh... I said that you'll have to—mmmh! To try different... Methods for this," she answers her as she feels her partner move even faster. "I can't promise you an... Immediate decision."

"But I haven't told you anything yet, boss," the caller tells Jiwon.

"I... Ah right. I was just telling you things in advance," she chuckles nervously. "You want to discuss about the... The projects, correct?"

"Yes! It's about one of them," the caller says. "One of them is causing some problems for the company and the whole team."

"Mhhh... Is that so?" Jiwon asks, acting dumbfounded in the midst of her moans.

"It is. And it's what we're trying to fix right now."

"I see—nghh! W-what's it about again? I-I must've forgotten."

"I'm not sure how to tell you, but..." she says as she takes a deep breath before continuing. "One of the employees is stealing ideas from other companies and using them for your own work."

"Oh fuck..." Jiwon elicits a loud moan, her face contorted with pain. "Y-yeah, you can say that. T-that guy is a real jerk."

"Yes, he doesn't seem to be a good person," the caller tells her. "He even changed some of our programs to his liking."

As the conversation gets more and more intriguing between Jiwon and her caller, her partner's thrusts become harder and harder as well.

"Ah... You're really good at this, boss," he whispers to her a compliment.

His words tingle her ears. She squirms as her entire body feels the impact of his thrusts, not to mention that his words are giving her so much arousal. But she has to keep herself under control so that she won't get caught on the phone.

"Then... C-can you—nghh... Investigate t-this issue for me?" she asks. "I think I have myself... Full at the moment."

"We're doing our best to speak with him," the caller says.

"S-sure, good... That's good."

"But we still don't know what to do. So, boss... Can you talk to him for us?"

"I, uhh... I'll see what I can do," Jiwon answers.

"Thank you, boss. We'll call you again once we find out more about the situation."

"A-alright. That's fine with me," she says as she tries to catch her breath with every thrust her partner gives her. "W-would that be all?"

"Yes. It was just about that. Again, thank you very much."

"A-alright then," Jiwon tells her caller. "Bye."

"Good bye."

Jiwon then immediately ended the call and moaned loudly once she placed her phone back on her table.

"You're so sexy," he whispers to her. "I love watching you talk to them while getting fucked."

"Ah-hahh..." she moans. "I hope... They didn't suspect a thing."

"I'm sure they didn't," he replies as he amps up his thrusts even further. "We'd know if we failed that one."

"Ooh! R-right there!" she shouts as he strikes her sensitive spot.

"Here?" he teases, continuing to thrusts at the same spot.

"Fuck! Y-yes, that!" she answers him, her moans growing louder and louder by the minute. "I can't take much more!"

"Same here," he admits. "I think I'm gonna cum soon."

"Huh? T-then we should do it together, right?" Jiwon looks in his eyes with her own pair of pleading, lustful eyes.

"Yeah," he smirks. "Let's cum together."

Jiwon's partner then pistons her begging pussy with the fastest pace he can muster, the wet, squelching sounds of their genitals slapping against each other grows louder by the second. As if an unrestrained beast, he mercilessly fucks Jiwon as hard as he possibly can. The pleasure is at their highest level yet and they knew that they were both nearing their climaxes. The feeling of her lover's member plunging into her velvety soft walls makes Jiwon writhe in pleasure.

When the telephone rings once more.

The both of them are so shocked that they are rendered unable to speak for a moment. Their eyes met with each other before the both of them scrambled for the receiver.

"Fuck!" Jiwon curses in a hushed tone as she pants.

"Should I?" her partner suggests to answer the call as he continues to pick up the pace and give them that much-needed release.

"N-no! Let me..." she scrambles to reach the telephone, the receiver almost slipping out of her grip.

The voice answers. "Yes? Oh, hello. I would like to—

But before they can speak any further, Jiwon's partner interrupts the call as he groans out in a wave of pleasure. "Oh fuck! I'm gonna go!"

A few more thrusts from her partner is all it takes for him to spurt one massive load inside her womb. He cums with such force that Jiwon's body trembled and her eyes rolled to the back of her head as she herself reaches her climax. Her orgasm was just as powerful as his, and she let's out a deafening scream filled with ecstasy.

"Aghh! I'm cumming! I'm cumming!" Jiwon yells as she squirts a large amount of her cum all over the table. The pressure was so strong that it pushed his cock out of her pussy, but he continued to pump his semen all over her abdomen and breasts.

Like a fountain, their sexual fluids burst out of her pussy and splattered all over their laps, her desk, and the floor, forming a big puddle. As her partner feels Jiwon squirt all over his limp cock, he lets out a deep growl of satisfaction. They rode their climax together, bodies moving in sync, and with their eyes locked on each other, they basked in their simultaneous orgasms.

"Ow fuck..." he says as he slowly walks backwards and into the chair behind him.

"Hahh... Hah... Mnhh..." she pants heavily. "I can't think of anything right now."

"Same here," he chuckles. "My head kinda hurts."

Jiwon looked at the cum that was all over her desk and her crotch area. "Oh dear. You came a lot."

"So did you," he replied, smirking.

She takes a small amount of his semen on her fingers and licks it off. "Mmmh. You taste good."

"You taste good yourself," he shoots the compliment back. "Especially your lips."

Jiwon blushes. "You're too much. But thank you."

"By the way," He brings his attention to the now unattended telephone. "What about that call?"

"Call?" she then notices the telephone that she was gripping hard the entire time. "Oh shit!"

She inspects if the caller is on the line.

"Hello?"

A long dead beep then came from the telephone.

"Hello? Hell... Hello?"

She looks at the receiver. "Ahh... I don't think they're there anymore."

He grimaces at their first failure. "That's too bad."

"Yeah," she sulks. "I guess we have another try."

"Right. And besides..." he gives her a playful smile. "It's their fault that they called just as you were getting fucked."

She chuckles and blushes as she remembers what the two of them just did. "As if you can be stopped."

He smirks. "And neither can you."

"Well... You can say that," she shrugs as she tries to sit properly on the desk, giving him a great view of her body covered in their shared fluids.

Her tactic is effective. In a matter of seconds, his cock is rock hard once again. He looks at her with a renewed lust and hunger in his eyes, and she looks back at him the same way. Despite the intense debauchery they just engaged in, the two are still fully capable of doing it again, if the way they were looking at each other right now is any indication.

"So? Shall we do it again, boss?" he asks her with a playful tone in his voice.

Jiwon gulps before answering his question, not being able to hold back the naughty thoughts in her mind. The experience he just gave her is still fresh on her mind and it made her even more aroused and excited for the next round.

"I don't think I can deny my secretary of his request," she bites her lip as she tries to caress his cock with her slender legs. "Just one more time."

His eyes twinkled, his lust growing even greater. He smirks before he pounces at Jiwon, giving her a sloppy kiss that makes the both of them moan. His tongue was inside her mouth, swirling and tasting every bit of her oral cavity. Their hands roamed all over each other's body as they tried to remove each other's clothing. It was a tangle of tongues, fingers, and naked skin. They can no longer stop themselves. The pressure of their tryst has finally exploded.

Their hands and mouths moved down to the most sensitive parts of their bodies, savoring every inch of the other's skin. Her partner takes the lead as he pulls her off the table, causing more of her liquids to spill onto the floor. He then quickly lifts her up and grabs her firm ass cheeks, kneading them with his large hands. Jiwon, as aroused as ever, quickly wrapped her legs around his waist. Her crotch met his, grinding their privates against each other's as if it were the last time.

His hard cock throbbed underneath him, desperate to enter Jiwon. She mewls at his slightest attempts of entry, her entire body shakes as he attempts to get inside her. But as he gets more eager to go further, she lets go of her hold on him. And as if by some sort of telepathy, he immediately understands what she wants to do next. He gently lowers her body until her feet can touch the floor. She stumbles slightly from the impact of their latest act, and he quickly catches her and places a hand on her waist.

"You good?" He asks her, his voice filled with concern.

Jiwon nods in response, her voice still shaking a bit. "I'm fine. Thanks."

They can't keep their eyes off of one another. Their gazes were locked and as if still full of lust and desire. Their lips meet once again, sharing the most passionate kiss they have ever had. And as they savor their intimacy, their hands explored their bodies with passion, wanting more of each other. Jiwon's fingers began to play with his hard, throbbing cock. She can feel him pulsate in her palms, his desire for her growing stronger as the moment progresses.

As the tension between them rises again, she kneels down before him. Her face is now eye level with his shaft that stands tall and hard, still freshly covered in their mixed fluids. She looks up at him and smiles, licking her soft, luscious lips before making eye contact once again. His cock twitches in response as if telling her what to do next. She giggles at his response and smirks. And as she grabs ahold of his length with her small, delicate hands, her partner looks at her with wide eyes.

"So... Are you gonna..." he asks with a sly grin.

She nods as her fingers explore every inch of his thick, swollen cockhead. "Mhhh... You're big."

She slowly moves her hands down the length of his shaft, making sure that her hands cover every inch of his throbbing member. She gently pumps his cock with both of her hands as she presses her soft, pink lips against the tip of his cock, smearing their fluids all over the sensitive area. Her tongue then playfully peeks out and teases him by flicking his tip in a teasing manner.

He gasps at the sudden stimulation. His entire body tenses up and he has to resist the urge to push his cock deeper into her mouth. She continues to kiss and lick the tip of his penis with great care, trying her best to savor every bit of their mixed cum. Her tongue then flicks and swirls against the tip in an attempt to satisfy him. She closes her eyes as she begins to suck on his head, feeling every part of his cock against her soft, luscious lips.

Her partner releases a deep, lustful growl from the back of his throat.

"Owh, fuck..."

Her cheeks then blush, as if his groans are like a praise to encourage her to do better. She takes his member inside her mouth, her soft, warm tongue moving around his cock, sucking and licking the area where his cockhead meets the shaft. He moans again as he watches Jiwon, mouth wide open and tongue swirling against his shaft. His fingers then tangle themselves into her hair, and he grabs a handful of her beautiful locks as he slowly pulls her towards him. He seems to enjoy watching her perform such an act that he just can't keep himself from thrusting his cock inside her mouth, but he decided to be gentle at the moment. And with the soft and sensual moans she made, he can only imagine the lewd thoughts that are in her mind as she bobs her head up and down his cock, making her look even sexier in his eyes.

His hand then gently pulls her hair backwards as if wanting to make her release her mouth off of his cock. Strands of semen and spit connect from her lips to his member. And with the slightest touch, she looks up at him, her eyes looking back at him as she releases him from her lips.

"Did I do good?" she asks him.

"That was great," he tells her, his voice full of desire and lust.

She blushes and smiles at his comment. "Thank you."

"Do you want to have another go?" he asks her, his hand softly caressing her cheek.

"C-can I? Are you sure?" she asks, surprised by his request.

"I know it's your first time," He then smirks. "But I know you'll do well."

Jiwon blushes once more at the compliment. "You're too much."

"So do you want to do it again?" he asks her again, his cock twitching in response.

She gulps and looks down.

"Yes... I do."

"Then, please..." Her partner smirks, knowing that she wants this just as much as he does.

"Go ahead."

Jiwon looks up at him with a mischievous smile on her face. She wants to please him. She wants to give him back the favor of the pleasure he's been giving him all this time. And that's exactly what she's going to do. She takes her hands and pumps her partner's shaft with a more sensual touch than the one before. She licks the tip of his cock once again before sucking his entire cock back inside her mouth. His length goes deeper and deeper into her warm cavern as he softly moans, enjoying the pleasure of her sucking. She licks and kisses the length of his shaft before stopping and pushing it inside her mouth once again. She bobs her head up and down the shaft, licking and sucking his cock every now and then. Her lips lock with the head of his cock, her tongue licks his underside, and her hands pump the remaining length she can't fit inside her mouth.

Her eyes slowly glances at him and their gaze locks with one another. And as she continues her blowjob, she feels his hands guide her hair back once more. He groans as she continues to move her head back and forth his cock, encouraging her to move even faster and harder.

As the blowjob progresses, Jiwon starts to become more confident in what she's doing. Her hands pump his cock faster as she moves her head forward and back. His groans of pleasure grow louder and louder by the minute, his cock getting more sensitive by the second. She slowly works on putting more and more of his cock inside her mouth. As his groans become more intense and more frequent, Jiwon finds herself to be more aroused from his noises of pleasure. And as her partner becomes even more vocal, she lets out muffled, gurgling moans.

"Oh fuck," he yells. "I'm close!"

She then sucks his cock even more, hoping to give him the most pleasurable experience he's ever had. As he reaches his limit, he grabs onto her hair and thrusts his cock deeper inside her mouth. Its tip touched her throat, causing Jiwon to gag. He worries for a moment about her situation. But the determination in her eyes, along with the gentle squeezes on his shaft, let him know that she is still up for the challenge. And like a good girl, she closes her eyes and relaxes her throat, allowing her to take him even deeper.

"Oh shit, Jiwon," he cries out. "Here I come!"

The sensation of Jiwon's throat was too much for her partner to bear. He thrusts his cock inside her mouth one last time before unloading his cum, shooting a massive amount of semen down her throat. As his load fills up every space inside her mouth, her body squirms in delight. He continues to thrust his cock inside her mouth as he empties his balls inside her mouth. Waves of pleasure hit Jiwon once more as her throat wrings out his shaft, squirting yet again and creating a bigger puddle of her sweet juices. The thick, creamy fluids spill out of her lips, down her chin and onto the floor, a mixture of their cum forms a big pool on the floor.

His load then comes to a halt as he slowly pulls out of her. The two of them pant heavily as they are still overwhelmed from their climax. With his legs weak, his body again retreats to the office chair behind him. He looks at the distraught Jiwon with a look of satisfaction before pulling her closer to him.

"How is it?" he asks Jiwon.

She nods, before making a gesture that her mouth is still filled with semen.

He understands what she meant and smirks. "Let me see."

He holds onto her head as he pulls her closer towards him. Jiwon opens her mouth to reveal that its full of his semen. He can't help but elicit a smile at such a sight. His cock again throbs to life in response, twitching at the sight of her mouth being full of his cum.

"Good. You can swallow it now," He tells her, a commanding tone in his voice.

Like an obedient puppy, Jiwon closes her mouth and tries to gulp down the immense amount of semen that's in her mouth. The salty taste of his seed fills her mouth and she begins to gag once again. Her eyes widened in surprise as she tried her best to swallow the cum that's in her mouth. Her partner watches her closely as he tries to help her swallow his seed, softly caressing her cheek as if encouraging her. After a few more tries, she swallows it all, a big gulp can be heard.

"How was it?" He asks, smiling. "Did you like it?"

She smiles and nods. "It... It's good."

He chuckles before patting her head. "Glad you like it."

"It tastes..." she ponders for a bit. "Hmmm... Weird?"

"Weird, huh?" he lets out a hearty laugh. "You think so?"

"W-why? Is there something wrong?" she asks him, looking confused.

"No, it's not wrong," he chuckles. "I just never knew you can taste that."

Jiwon looks at him with an awkward look on her face. "Was it supposed to taste like that?"

"I guess so," He laughs at her comment, a hearty laugh that makes Jiwon look confused yet also happy at the same time. "Everyone I've worked with all say the same thing."

"Well... I quite like it," She chuckles and smirks.

"Thank you," He smiles at her response. "I like how you taste too."

Jiwon blushes as she feels her body heat up from his words.

"T-thank you."

The both of them chuckle in unison as they bask in the afterglow of their intense sexual encounter. He then picks her off the floor and onto his lap, their faces then met in another sloppy kiss. Their tongues swirled inside each other's mouths once again. She can taste herself on him and she savors every moment of this kiss. His arms then wrap around her waist, pulling her body close to him as they continue to make out with each other.

As their tongues make contact once more, his hands start to caress the curves of her body another time. His fingers gently move along the contour of her body, tracing along her spine, before gently massaging her ass. Jiwon moans at the pleasure as he does this, enjoying every touch he gives. He then pulls her closer towards his lap, pressing her sensitive breasts against his body. Her soft boobs squished against his hard torso, eliciting another wave of pleasure from Jiwon. He can't help but give in to his urges, and his hands then gropes her perky breasts before sucking on her nipple.

"Ahh fuck... Yes... That feels good," Jiwon mewls as he starts to play on her sensitive nipples.

He then moves his lips upwards, giving her soft, pink lips a kiss as his hands knead her breasts.

"Mmmmh... Please, more!" Jiwon lets out a small moan as she reciprocates the kiss, giving him a deeper one than what they have shared before.

His hands then slowly move down from her breasts, towards the dripping slit between her legs. Her body then shudders in delight as she felt his fingers brush against her sensitive clit, sending shockwaves through her entire being. His finger gently rubs against her clitoris in circles, stimulating her pussy in a way that he knows she loves.

Jiwon's moans are all the confirmation he needs as his fingers explore more of her privates. Her back arches in pleasure as his fingers make contact with her hole, teasing and stretching her inner walls. She begins to move her hips, slowly grinding his cock with her pussy as she moves back and forth. Her movement becomes more urgent and desperate by the second as she is now more than ready to fuck him once more. Her partner can see her growing impatience, so he decided to help her out by inserting his index finger inside her pussy, followed by a second one.

"Ooohhhh... F-fuck!" She cries out, feeling the sudden pressure of having his fingers inside her.

"Liking that, Jiwon?" he asks.

She nods, biting her lip in an attempt to stifle her moans. "Yes. I love it!"

He smirks, a proud smile plastered on his face. "You look sexy when you're like this."

"Yeah? You think so?" she asks, smirking back.

"Of course..." he responds, his hands and fingers pumping inside her cunt with the slowest pace he can manage.

"Oh shit! I want you to fuck me again," she mewls, grinding her pussy against his cock with more intensity.

"I'd be happy to," he tells her in a sly voice. "But you should say please."

"Do I have to?" Jiwon giggles at his proposal, she softly hits his shoulder.

"If you want to complete the challenge, that is" he grins before planting another kiss on her lips.

"Hmmm. Wait a second," Jiwon then thinks for a bit, pondering what to say next.

"What is it?" he asks, curious.

Before she does anything else, she looks back at the timer that they both almost forgot out of the debauchery they've done all this time. "01:24:00" is shown.

"Oh. We still have more time to spare," She tells him, a little bit of relief in her voice. "That's good."

"Oh yeah. You're right," he chuckles at how forgetful they are. "I guess we can take it slow."

She giggles before answering, "I don't mind."

"So..." he smirks as he continues to finger fuck her. "What's it gonna be?"

She bites her lip as she stares deep into his eyes, an excited expression on her face. "I want..."

"Yes?" he asks, his voice oozing with lust and anticipation.

"You... To..."

“Go on…”

“Fuck me, ple—”

Before Jiwon can finish her request, the telephone rings for the third time.

The two of them are shocked by the sudden interruption. Their bodies are frozen and stiff for a moment. And as if having a telepathic conversation, they both look at each other as they know what to do next.

"Fuck!" she screams, slightly frustrated.

"There's the call," he answers, slightly amused.

"What timing!" Jiwon exclaims before retiring from his lap and walking towards the desk where the telephone is.

He chuckles at the situation they're currently in. "I can't believe that's just the third call we've had."

"Right? But how could we know?" she replies, looking back at him with a lustful gleam in her eyes. "We were having fun, weren't we?"

"Can't say you're wrong," he gets up from his seat and walks towards her, immediately grabbing her waist with his firm hands. "But how about we have some more?"

She smirks. "I'd like that."

"But..." he whispers to her, a smirk on his face as his fingers glide over her hips. "The magic word?"

"You gotta be... Ugh," Jiwon sighs, looking helpless before picking up the phone after a few seconds of ringing.

"Hello?"

"Hi. I'm calling on behalf of the HR department," a male voice on the other line says. "Is the boss available?"

"Yes! You're speaking to her," she replies.

"Hello. Thank you for taking my call. I'd like to speak about our new hires," the man's voice says, a professional tone to his voice.

"Oh, really? Go ahead."

As Jiwon immerses herself in the impromptu call, her partner is left to himself. In order to sate himself while she's speaking with her caller, he resumes to play with her body using his hands. He leans forward and goes for her ear, nibbling at it. His sneaky fingers move down to her belly, making her squirm as it grazes past her navel and down to her mound. As if knowing where she wants him to go, he starts to play with her slit using just one finger, sending more shockwaves of pleasure to her.

"As of the previous month," the caller continues his speech, "we have a record high number of—"

"Ah yes!" Jiwon interrupts her caller with a sudden yelp, as if something suddenly tickled her.

"Excuse me, boss?" the man asks.

"N-nothing," she tells him, chuckling nervously. "Is this about the... P-performance rating?"

A long pause then follows from the other line.

Tension then builds inside her.

"Hello?" Jiwon calls for the person on the phone.

"Yes!" the voice answered back, albeit slightly frantic. "You are correct, boss,"

"Whew," she lets out a deep sigh of relief. "I thought I lost you."

"Apologies. I believe the signal here is not that good."

"That's too bad," Jiwon responds. "Can you continue?"

"I would like to, but wouldn't we have a hard time in this situation?"

"Uhh... I..." she thinks for a moment.

Her partner then grabs her attention once more by grabbing her ass. As she slowly loses her composure from his naughty advances, she looks at him with a perplexed look, giving him a sly smile.

"What now?" she whispers to him.

"The magic word?" he smirks, raising a brow at her.

Jiwon then gives him a pouty glare, turning her eyes at him. She then turns her attention back to the caller.

“About that, do what you must… Please,” she speaks, as if referring to both of them.

"Sure thing, boss!" her caller replies enthusiastically.

"With pleasure, boss," her partner responds, grinning.

"So, within the last month," the caller continues to speak, but the reception is still quite poor. "We have a recor... Umber of peop... Applying fo... The company."

At the same time, her partner begins the main act of their next attempt to make her finish her task. He slowly pushed his finger inside her pussy, his other hand gently playing with her pussy’s lips.

"Ugh! It's really... Hmmm..." Jiwon struggles to maintain her composure.

"It's really good news. I agree," the caller replies.

Her partner then inserts a second finger inside her hole. And as he moves his fingers in and out, his other hand continues to caress her pussy, teasing her clit and rubbing against her clit in small circles. Jiwon's breathing becomes erratic, her moans get louder by the minute. She tries all her best to muffle the sensuous sounds that escape her lips during their conversation. Her body starts to shake, the intense sensations they've made her experience for the past half an hour is starting to be too much for her.

"Ah! Yes... I see... I-is there a... Hnng!" she struggles to keep her voice steady.

"Is there a statistic about the applications, you mean?" the caller asks.

"Y-yeah... T-that's it... The statistic," Jiwon answers him, her mind clouded with lust and pleasure.

Jiwon slowly loses control of her body as her partner's fingers move inside her in a faster pace. Her juices drip down her legs at his every touch. He notices this and grins. He leans over to her as his fingers continue to move in and out of her hole, hitting her most sensitive areas.

"You look so hot, boss," he whispers in her ear.

She looks back at him with her eyes full of lust and pleasure. "Stop with the teases," she orders him with a shaky voice.

"I have the full analysis of the statistics, boss," the voice on the phone tells Jiwon. "But it seems that I forgot to include the revisions I made recently."

"Oh... It's fine," she mewls, the pleasure overtaking her body. "C-can you... Tell me t-that... N-next time?"

"Will do! When would you like for us to speak again?"

"Uhh..." Jiwon quickly tries to think up an answer. "L-let me check my... S-schedule. One moment..."

"Do I now have the permission to fuck my boss one more time?" he butts in, whispering, as he nibbles on her ear.

Jiwon bites her lip to suppress her moans as her body begins to quake. Her nipples are stiff as a rock and she can feel her pussy spasm. Her partner can see that she's ready to explode at any moment, so he pulls his fingers out and grabs a hold of her waist.

"Fuck!" Jiwon softly yells, a look of surprise in her eyes.

"What, boss?" her partner asks, acting coy.

"Why did you stop?" she looks back at him, looking frustrated and defeated.

"Why... Because we're just about to start," he grins as he props his cock between pussy's wet lips.

"Huh? What? A-ah!" she cries out, a mixture of shock and pleasure in her voice.

He then slowly rubs his shaft against her pussy. Her body suddenly convulses as the sensation sends her into another blissful release, making her squirt on the floor once more. He watches as her orgasm overtook her body and as her fluids spread all over the floor beneath her. She's so aroused that she couldn't even form a sentence to say.

"I haven't even put it inside yet, boss," he teases her.

"O-oh my god..." she gasps for air, her legs buckle as she loses her balance.

"Is anything wrong, boss?" the caller asks. "Should we reschedule?"

"N-no," she answers back, her voice filled with lust and pleasure. "I-I'll be fine."

"Are you sure, boss?"

As Jiwon again has her attention occupied with the telephone, he moves his shaft back to her pussy and slowly penetrates her. Her wet pussy swallows every inch of his cock until he hits her most sensitive spot.

"Oh yes!" she mewls, her hands holding on to his arm.

"Yes?" the caller asks.

"Oh, y-yes," she pants as he slowly pounds her pussy.

"I thought I lost you there," the caller laughs.

"Fuck... That's good..." she gasps.

"Then will we expect a call from you anytime soon?"

"I-I don't know—nggh! I'm so... Full... At t-the moment!"

"You're full?" the caller asks.

"Y-yeah. My s-schedule is... Oh shit," she replies, her voice cracking. “I-I have... Big t-things... T-to tend to right n-now.”

"I understand. If you want to know more about that, you should contact us again."

"O-of course... Yes," she responds, still panting heavily. "I-I'll make sure to do that."

"Thank you very much, boss," the caller says. "Have a good day!"

"Y-you too—mhhh!" she says as she's overwhelmed by the sensation of her partner's cock inside her pussy.

The call then ends. And as Jiwon places the receiver back, the timer on the screen stops. The number 00:09:00 then shows up, along with a message that says 'CONGRATULATIONS' on top.

They both stop to look at the screen.

"Did you... Get it?" her partner asks, still buried deep inside her pussy.

She looks at him with a confused look on her face. "I don't know. D-did we?"

"I guess so," he replies, shrugging. "But aren't we still fucking?"

"Yeah. I thought we should finish at the same time as the call."

Despite their assumed victory, the two of them continue to wonder about the challenge. The timer on the screen then disappears, followed by a message that says the following:

"Congratulations on completing the challenge! The pair should then proceed to the final area after a signal after a few hours. For the meantime, you can do whatever you want together area. Have fun!"

"So we did complete the challenge," she says, smiling.

"Yeah... We did," he smiles back at her. "But... What do we do now?"

Jiwon wiggles her hips, causing his cock to slightly move inside her pussy. She looks at him with a teasing gaze before leaning closer to his face, her breath ghosting over his lips.

"How about we finish what we started?" she asks, her eyes gleaming with lust.

"I think that's a great idea, boss," he grins in response as he kisses her with extreme passion.

Their tongues once again made contact as their kiss deepened. His hands then move down to her ass, gripping and groping it with such ferocity. Jiwon's moans at his actions and moves her body against him, wanting him even more. She kisses him back with just as much intensity, as if wanting to make up for the lost time of their conversation with this impromptu make-out session. He then resumes to pound her pussy with an animalistic intensity. He slams his cock becomes deeper and harder inside her pussy. She arches her back and moans louder, the pleasure building up inside her with each powerful thrust.

Her moans escape her lips and he immediately responds by shoving his tongue inside her mouth to shut her up. With no more restraints, Jiwon opens her mouth and welcomes him in. Her legs wrap around his waist as if to let him know that she's more than ready for more.

Her body arches in ecstasy as the thrusting of his hips becomes even more intense and powerful. He grabs onto her ass with both hands as he picks up his pace even more, plunging deeper into her wet cavern. He moves her body like a rag doll, trying to fit into every inch of her pussy as he can. Jiwon screams are becoming louder and more primal, reverberating through the room as their bodies collide in a symphony of raw desire.

"Oh fuck! Your cock feels so good!" she cries out, breaking the kiss for a moment.

"You like it? Do you want more, boss?" he grunts as he continues to thrust inside her.

"Yes! Fuck your boss, Mr. Secretary! Fuck me harder!" she mewls, her eyes gleaming with lust and ecstasy.

"I'll give you all you need, boss," he replies with a wide grin. as he moves his hips forward.

Their bodies start to move in unison, synchronizing the way they fuck. The only thing that matters at the moment is to satisfy each other. Their breaths are ragged as their movements become even faster, their bodies now wet with a mixture of sweat and cum. He grunts as he begins to fuck Jiwon even harder, his cock hitting her sensitive areas. Their bodies are on the verge of reaching their climax and the fact that they've had three orgasms in the past few minutes is enough to make them ecstatic.

Jiwon's back arches as she feels her orgasm building up once more, her walls clenching around his cock. She then lets out a long moan that fills the room.

"I'm... I'm Gonna... Agh!" she yells, her voice filled with euphoria.

"Yeah? I think I'm close too," He grunts as he feels her pussy convulse around him. "Owh fuck!"

"Fill me up again! Fill my pussy with your cum!" she yells as she feels another orgasm hit her.

"Fine! Here it comes!" he screams, his thrusting now out of control. "Agh... Fucking take it!"

He gives her one last, deep thrust and finally releases his load. He grunts as he attempts to to fill her womb with his seed. The two of them moan as their bodies shake in ecstasy. Waves of pleasure hit her entire body as he continued to shoot his semen inside her. Jiwon's hips spasm as her body trembles in ecstasy.

"Oh fuck! You're filling me up with your cum—oh fucking shit!" she yells, her eyes rolled to the back of her head.

His cock throbs as he continues to shoot his white stuff inside her. He gives Jiwon another deep thrust, causing her to moan. Her pussy then reaches its limit as huge amounts of cum flow out of her. It spills on the floor, adding to the huge puddle of their mixed fluids. He then gives her another deep thrust, releasing another huge load.

"Owh shit," he groans, his eyes fluttering. "You're milking my cock so fucking good, Jiwon."

"Yeah... Give it all to me," she moans, her eyes shut tightly. "It feels so good."

He gives her one last deep thrust, as if trying to keep the cum inside her. She lets out a long, sensuous moan, her body twitching in ecstasy.

He finally pulls out his cock and as he seems to be out of stamina, falls to the floor. Jiwon's body collapses soon after, landing on top of his, cushioning her fall. As they both look exhausted and drained, the two of them pant heavily as they catch their breath. Their bodies are completely spent and tired. But even so, their eyes meet once more and a smile forms on their faces.

"So," he breaks the silence. "How was it, Jiwon?"

"How was it? Hmmm..." Jiwon ponders for a moment before answering, snuggling on his chest. "Well... I'd say it was amazing."

"Really?"

"Yeah," she giggles. "You know, I've never had anything this satisfying. Thank you."

"No problem," he chuckles, his arm wrapped around her body. "Glad you liked it."

"How about you? Did you like it?" she asks him, looking curious.

"Me?"

"Yeah. Was I good?"

He smiles and plants a kiss on her forehead. "You were great."

Jiwon's face blushes, "You think so?"

"Definitely," he nods. "It's not everyday that I get to work with someone as amazing as you."

"Oh stop, you flatter me too much," Jiwon giggles, hiding her face with her hands.

"I mean it," he chuckles, gently caressing her cheeks. "For an idol, I didn't expect you to be this good sexually."

"I see..." she replies. "Thank you very much."

"You're welcome."

They then stay silent for a moment, just smiling and staring into each other's eyes.

"So what do you want to do now, boss?" he teases her, grinning.

"Really?" Jiwon chuckles. "You're still gonna call me that?"

"What can I say? Being a boss seems to fit you," he answers, a sly grin on his face.

"Oh stop it!" she then laughs, smacking his shoulder playfully.

"Alright, alright," he laughs as well. "Do you want us to stay like this?"

"Yes. That sounds good," she answers, hugging him tight. "Maybe just a little longer."

He chuckles as he gives her a soft pat on the head.

"Great. Fine by me."

As the two of them are busy enjoying the aftermath of their intense sex, the video fades to black and ends.

You've just witnessed an incredibly intimate and passionate moment between Jiwon and her partner. Their connection and chemistry were undeniable, resulting in a victory and a truly unforgettable experience for both of them. You wish that it was you who could experience such a connection with Jiwon. Who knows? Maybe they'll let you have your way with her after a promotion. But for now, you'll have to satisfy yourself with the fantasy of it as you close the video and move on to the next.

= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =

Author’s Notes:

Here is the next chapter of the my "Spotlighting" series starting with Park Jiwon.

Why did I start with Jiwon? Hmmm... No idea. I just went with it and eventually, I had fun writing about her. Her 50-50 personality of half cutest girlfriend/half tazmanian devil really gets me. But I kinda leaned on to the former because I think I made her too submissive. 😅 Maybe I can write her being full-on ballistic next time.

A huge thanks to branfics/@braaan for another great poster and to NoLeafClover/@dr-occam for helping edit this fic. You two made this one possible. 🫂

Again, thank you very much for reading! 🙇

[shookuna]

m. fushiguro x gn!reader - "would you still love me if i was a worm?"

a/n: another lil piece for a moot!! the loveliest ever @meguemii !! emiiiiiii i know u have been feeling a lil down recently so i thot a lil fic might cheer u up !!!! take this silly drabble w/ ur husband, pls enjoy him !!

just some dumb bf megumi, established relationship, megumi is a little mean in this but he doesn't mean it <3 cw: slight angst :(( bc megumi does not know how to Emote. but ends happily :))

wc: ~1.4k

"would you still love me if i was a worm?"

you ask out of the blue, rousing your boyfriend from whatever he was looking at on his phone. it's a typical night in for the two of you - take-out from your all-time favorite restaurant, cuddles, and a movie. it was his turn to pick tonight, and with no better ideas, he settled on some high-budget action flick that gojo-sensei had recommended.

"...pardon?" megumi asks slowly, his voice barely audible over the sound of swords clashing on the tv. he's facing you now with the most dumbfounded stare on his pretty face. surely, he must have misheard you. over the course of your relationship, you've asked him some pretty fucking stupid things ("if you were starving, would you eat me? like, what if i said it was okay.") but this might take the cake.

"you heard me. would you still love me if i was a worm?" you repeat, undeterred by the way he balks at the question. you could have just as well told him you thought the sky was green with the way he's looking at you like you have three heads.

"is this some sort of test?" megumi asks, furrowing his brows at you in mild frustration. he was still reeling from the time you asked him if he thought water was wet, which sparked an hours long debate. the sensible answer of "yes? it's water?" was not satisfactory for you, apparently, as you took it upon yourself to consult yuuji and nobara for their opinions. by the end of the night, all four of you were embroiled in a heated argument, with no one showing any signs of backing down. it was only when megumi suggested a truce that you all begrudgingly agreed, and the discussion finally ceased. having witnessed the extent of your stubbornness firsthand, megumi was in no hurry to see it again.

"no," you respond, stretching out the last syllable. "it's just a question. one i expect you to answer. would you still love me if i were a worm?"

megumi stares at you for a bit longer, his mouth opening and closing as he processes your inquiry. he'd gotten used to your weird antics, for the most part, but there were still times where you left him speechless, for better and for worse. he eventually settles on asking you "are you a worm?" in an attempt to assess your sanity.

"no, 'gumi," you roll your eyes, puffing your cheeks out at him. he could be so difficult when it came to providing reassurance, even in this roundabout way. "in this scenario, i'm asking you whether you'd love me if i was a worm. like, imagine i just got turned into a worm, all of a sudden." you clarify, which only serves to make megumi look even more hopelessly confused.

"i mean..." he starts, before hesitating when he sees the gleam of hope in your eyes. with his next words, he sees it die before his very eyes. "...no? obviously not?"

"obviously?!" you cry out indignantly, making megumi's brow furrows further. "what's so obvious about it?"

"i mean... i'm still a human in this... scenario, yes?" he asks, to which you grumble, "assuming you're human now, yes."

"okay, so i'm human, and you're a worm." he deadpans. when you still look at him expectantly, he adds, "that speaks for itself, really." the casual indifference in his voice wounds you even further.

"well, so what? i get turned into a worm, and that's it? you just stop loving me?" you protest, growing more animated as you speak.

"i don't foresee you turning into a worm anytime soon," megumi mumbles boredly, turning his attention back to his phone. he was prepared to dismiss the discussion entirely, to get on with your night and continue to ignore the laughably bad movie on the screen in front of you. when you actually pause the movie, he realizes that's not happening anytime soon. "what'd you do that for?"

"like you were even watching it," you scoff, before rising from your seat on the couch, "i just, i can't believe you would stop loving me just because i was a worm."

"just because you were a worm?" megumi parrots, raising his brow at you as he sits up straighter. "you can't say it so casually, like you're just getting a new haircut, or something." he attempted to reason with you, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "you'd be a worm. we couldn't even communicate."

"i never said that!" you huff exasperatedly, and megumi just stares blankly at you. "i could, you know, spell messages out for you with leaves, and stuff..." you mumble under your breath, making him roll his eyes. "what?!"

"isn't it enough that i love you now?" he sighs deeply, attempting to appeal to your logical sensibilities. his words make your heart catch in your throat, and you can't help but avert your eyes away from his always piercing gaze. you knew it was stupid, to get genuinely upset at his answer to a question that had started as just a silly hypothetical. but sometimes, even though you knew megumi loved you deep down, you found it hard to reconcile his true feelings with his outward actions towards you. maybe he didn't have to love you if you were a worm, fine. but sometimes it felt like he might not love you now.

when you remain silent before him, megumi's eyes widen. shit. he didn't mean to hurt your feelings. how many times had this exact scenario happened before? where you were left to reassure yourself about megumi's love for you, when the man couldn't do it himself? you didn't deserve that. megumi knew it. "you... you do know i love you, right?"

more silence.

and then, even worse. tears.

your tears, sliding down your pretty face even as you attempt to blink them away. "i-i know, 'gumi," you let out a shaky breath, your voice scarcely above a whisper. "i know you love me. sometimes i just... i don't feel like you do." you say honestly, attempting to convey the depths of your feelings to the at times emotionally constipated man. luckily, your emotions in this moment require no further explanation.

"i... i know." megumi whispers out, in a voice so defeated that you can feel the little piece of your heart as it breaks for him. "it's just... hard, for me, sometimes, to..." he shifts in his seat, searching for the perfect words to put your mind at ease and coming up empty. "...to be honest with you, i guess. or, rather... to be honest with myself. about what i feel for you. about how much.. i love you.

"to admit that i'd... love you no matter what. even... even if you were a worm," megumi pauses and chuckles quietly when your face lights up, before continuing, "...it would force me to confront the fact that... yes, i would always love you. no matter what. and if one day, you woke up and fell out of love, if you realized you can do better than being with me, if you left... when you walk out the door..." he trails off, his eyes getting glassy as he casts his gaze down to the floor. "...you'd be taking a piece of me with you. a piece i don't think i could ever get back."

the air is heavy with the weight of his confession, and now it's your turn to stare at him with wide, dumbfounded eyes. you'd been dating for a while now, and he's told you he loved you before, but you'd never seen him like this. so vulnerable, his emotions spilling out as he threatened to come apart at the seams.

megumi wouldn't blame you if this was the moment that pushed you to walk out. after all, now, you had seen him at his lowest. his most weak. he certainly didn't expect you to fall in love even deeper after witnessing him in such a state.

but that's exactly what you did.

he nearly jumps in surprise when you throw yourself into his lap, draping your arms around his neck. "oh, 'gumi," you mumble, and the tenderness with which you say your little nickname for him has his heart racing in his chest.

"...i knew you'd love me if i was a worm."

© shookuna ! plus megumi header edited by me <33

[just-jordie-things]

[epilogue] to build a home - gojo satoru

word count: 25.4k warnings: swearing, drinking. reader has absent parents summary: just a handful of events that transpired after the conclusion of to build a home.

to build a home series masterlist

[epilogue] : "For You, For Me"

___

[ cause i built a home, for you, for me ]

Maybe it was just the beautiful stretch of summer into early fall, but the days had seemed lighter.  As though the sun’s rays lasted a little longer each day, as though the great bright star couldn’t bear to part with the day too soon.

Or maybe (y/n) was just so sickeningly happy all the time that she finally noticed the sunny days when they came around, and learned to properly appreciate them.  If the sun was shining, she was dragging the two kids out of the apartment and anywhere else- as long as they were outside.

Summer vacation was mostly spent at the park, or at the public market, when Megumi was in a good enough mood to go, anyways.  Tsumiki loved going to the market with (y/n), especially since she’d get to pick out all of her favorite fruits and veggies for the upcoming week.  Megumi mostly clung like a shadow behind (y/n), hating the busy space and strangers who were too friendly.  There was the rare occasion that he’d want to look at the stalls of old books, and (y/n) found that with the promise of looking for a new book, he would relax a little more in the high traffic area.  Was it bribery? Maybe.  But didn’t all parents have to bribe their kids at some point? 

Most nights were spent relaxing, a luxury that (y/n) wouldn’t give up for all the treasures of the world.  

Gathering in the living room to watch a movie with snacks covering the coffee table had become a weekly ritual.  They took turns picking out a movie, and the rule was always that if they could compromise when it’s a movie one of them isn’t interested in, then snacks were on her.  Of course a certain Six Eyes user tended to drop by not-so-at-random with a backpack full of sweets and long limbs that took up most of the couch.  Megumi would bring a pile of blankets to the floor when Satoru joined them for movie nights, claiming that he and (y/n) would hog all the cushions.  It was mostly Satoru, as (y/n) would try to cling to one side of the sofa, but her attempts were to no avail.  Satoru always found a way to crowd her until she was practically curled up under his arm.  Megumi would stick his tongue out in Tsumiki’s direction, disgusted by the abundance of physical affection that Satoru demanded to give to (y/n).  Tsumiki, however, always found it sweet.

Other nights they’d spend in comfortable silence, the three of them in their favorite cozy spots as they read to themselves.  (y/n) often sprawled across the living room sofa with whatever she was reading.  Tsumiki liked to read in a little nook she’d made in the corner of her room, complete with a string of twinkly lights and a big bean bag chair.  Megumi would join (y/n) in the living room, sitting in the oversized chair that matched the living room set.  He was so small in the large cushions he could lay any which way he pleased, but he most often sat crisscrossed with his new favorite book in his lap.  Sometimes (y/n) would convince him to read to her, even when he was halfway through a story she hadn’t been familiar with.  She enjoyed the peaceful quality time, even if it was spent in hours of silence.

And then there was her favorite way for the kids to spend their evenings- coloring.  It was a simple activity, one that she’d indulged in as a child often enough, but hadn’t thought much about until she’d randomly picked up a big pack of crayons on a grocery trip.  It must’ve been a good choice, because Megumi and Tsumiki got right to work on their imaginations.  Now their rooms, and the refrigerator, were covered in their artwork.  Tsumiki liked to draw flowers, sometimes full meadows complete with a sunny sky and rainbows, and sometimes she’d practice different petals with different colors, always trying to learn new things.  Megumi liked to draw his shikigami, giving each one that manifests it’s own name.  He also liked to draw characters from his favorite books.  (y/n) helped him to carefully tape them up on his bookshelf to display properly.  However she had hand-picked a few of their drawings to go on the fridge- which held the same honor as a knight being sworn into duty.  There were a few of Tsumiki’s flowers, and a few of Megumi’s favorite scenes from his books- even the darker ones that held a touch of blood and gore (y/n) would have to talk to him about before he went back to school- but there was one in particular that outshined them all.

It was a drawing they’d done together, on a larger piece of cardstock, of all of them.  There was a carefully drawn out scribble that resembled her, in her signature uniform- black collared jacket and matching black pants- her hair was meticulously thought out, the crayon color carefully chosen, and the strokes of length determined while the pair of kids studied her closely, making sure that their drawing resembled her true form perfectly.  On either side of her stick figure self was one of them, Megumi identified by the sea urchin he’d drawn on top of his head, and Tsumiki by the smile that took up her whole face and the big pink bow in her hair that she wore religiously since (y/n) had gotten it for her.  Lastly, and maybe (y/n’s) favorite part, was that Megumi had chosen to add his dogs to the family portrait.  Sitting right beside each other with little squiggles around their tails to show they were happily wagging, and complete with the red markings on their heads.

As soon as they’d presented this drawing to (y/n), she’d almost burst into tears at how sweet it was.  They laughed at her teary eyes while she smiled and gazed fondly at the picture, taking in every little detail and committing it to memory.  She deemed it the greatest gift she’d ever received, and marched it right to the fridge, clipping it up with magnets.  It took up most of the freezer door, but it would stay there until it was time for it to be moved to a new fridge.

When back to school season rolled around, (y/n) dragged them off to the mall, proudly displaying her earnings from the assignments she’d picked up over the summer.  Now that she wasn’t a student anymore, getting paid to exorcize demons had become a great source of income.  Of course in the midst of Megumi and Tsumiki ogling all the new backpacks with bright colors and anime characters, their favorite special grade sorcerer showed up with a black card that seemed to hold boundless funds, as he paid for every little thing either one of the children picked up.

“They’re going to grow up with a bad understanding of how money works, Satoru” (y/n) had scolded him while Megumi and Tsumiki watched a cashier ring up hundreds of dollars worth of supplies they ‘needed’.

“Nah, I’ll buy them the best tutor in Japan so they don’t” He’d replied, sticking his tongue out at her.

(y/n) rolled her eyes, but as she turned her head away to ignore him, she couldn’t help the small smile that graced her face.  She’d been making enough money to support this small makeshift family, but having Satoru around to help was still appreciated.  Of course, she could never tell him that.  His ego was big enough for the both of them.

Once school was back in session, a decent routine was established.  (y/n) picked up as many assignments during the days as she could, so that her nights could be spent helping them with homework, making dinner, getting chores done, and all the other little things that eat away at your free time when you’re an adult.  Not that she could complain, she adored every minute of the new life she worked to maintain.  However there was the occasion where an assignment too good to pass up would be on her radar in the evenings.  It only took one mention of this to Satoru for him to enlist himself as a babysitter.

It wasn’t often that she’d be gone in the evenings.  She liked to be present at all times when Megumi and Tsumiki were home.  They’d spent too much of their lives being alone, and while they proved to be self-sufficient, it made (y/n’s) heart sink at the thought of purposefully leaving them home alone.  So when Satoru showed up on the evening she’d been offered a well-paid assignment to hunt down a Grade Two cursed object, she let him stay to watch the kids.  Not before giving Tsumiki all of the emergency numbers she could think of, and reminding Megumi of the pendant she’d given him, also in the case of an emergency.

“It’s like you don’t trust me, sweetheart!” Satoru had laughed when she spent too long saying her goodbyes at the door.  He hastily began pushing her out, making sure her weapons were secure in their holsters on her back.  “Go! Go! Have fun! We’ll be fine here!” 

“Okay, just don’t forget they go to bed at-” 

“Nine o’clock, I’ve got it” 

“And they need to brush their teeth-” 

“I’m capable!” He barked at her, all but closing the door in her face while he wore a massive grin.

Long story short, Satoru had given the Fushiguro kids twenty bucks if they promised not to tell her that they’d been up long past their bedtime watching an anime with him that was probably less than appropriate for their age.  But they’d just loved it so much he’d insisted they binge half the series.  It was the closest thing to quality time with Megumi that he was going to get, as the kid begrudgingly sat on the couch next to him with his eyes glued to the screen.  Satoru did his best to cover their eyes when an unsavory scene played, which Tsumiki appreciated, but Megumi always pawed the man’s hand away so he could see what was happening.

“If you get nightmares, (y/n’s) going to kill me” He scolded, clamping his palm over the kid’s whole face to ensure he wasn’t going to catch sight of any true horror.

“I don’t get nightmares!” Megumi argued, trying to claw the hand off his face, but his efforts led nowhere, and he only found himself more annoyed as the man-child laughed at the attempt.

It was nearing the middle of the night when Satoru finally turned off the television and sent them off to brush their teeth.  Worried (y/n) would return soon and catch them in the act of disobeying her few rules, he rushed them with hurried claps and chanting to get them into their pajamas and under the covers.  It was Megumi who’d attempted blackmailing him, reminding him that (y/n) was going to know they were up late.  With an amused grin he’d given the boy a fiver.

“Five dollars?” Megumi gave him a bored look, remembering that shopping day with the magic black credit card that paid for his and Tsumiki’s back-to-school haul.  (And a few things for (y/n) too, no matter how much she protested)

Grimacing, Satoru smacked a twenty on his nightstand with the warning that any more, and he’d tell (y/n) he acted up all night and should be punished.  Megumi stuck his tongue out at the man as he flipped off the lights and shut the door for the night.

Joke’s on him, the boy thought bitterly as he settled into his blankets.  (y/n) would believe me over that grown child any day of the week, he thinks with certainty.  He wasn’t wrong.  If it was Satoru’s word against Megumi’s, the liar was evident in his charming smile and flashing eyes.

Satoru had just come back to the living room to clean up the small mess of blankets they’d made when the doorknob rattled with the familiar sound of a key unlocking it.  (y/n) dragged her feet as she made her way inside, a bit surprised to see Satoru awake and alert, her collection of throw blankets draped over his arms and shoulders.

“How’d the assignment go?” He asked as she kicked off her boots, flinging them towards the door with lazy movements.

“I completed it, let’s leave it at that,” She says, and he’d take concern in her words if they weren’t followed by a chuckle, and a small smile sent his way.  “Thank you for watching the kids, Satoru, I really appreciate it” 

He thinks back to this night often, as it was the beginning of (y/n) putting some trust in him as a caretaker.  

Every few weeks now he’d show up in the evening to put the kids to bed while she was out exorcizing curses.  Babysitting slowly morphed into him inviting himself over for movie nights, or even for no reason at all.  The kids- yes, Megumi too- grew used to the man showing up unannounced, before school while (y/n) made breakfast, or during pickup time right by her side, seemingly just as excited to greet them as she was.  He just seemed to be around, sometimes.  Tsumiki loved it, as it usually meant spoiling with toys and ice cream and whatever else (y/n) would let him get away with.  Megumi… tolerated it.  But at least he didn’t despise it anymore.

There was a morning (y/n) had gotten a call from Jujutsu Tech just as she was prepping their lunches for that day, and to her luck Satoru was there and happy to make their lunches for them so that she didn’t have to ignore what could potentially be an important call.

“Okay, just, do you mind making them a little drawing or note, too?” She’d rummaged through a messy cabinet drawer to produce a pack of post-it notes and a pink marker.  “I always leave them a message, or a doodle, or something” 

With her phone pressed between her shoulder and ear as she intently listened to whoever was on the other end, Satoru grinned as he accepted this mission, and got to work.

It wasn’t until she picked them up from school that (y/n) realized her mistake.  Megumi was clutching his stomach as he hobbled towards her in the courtyard, while Tsumiki was skipping along beside her brother, happier than ever.

“What’s wrong? Tummy hurt?” (y/n) knelt down before the boy, her hand resting over her forehead to see if it was a fever.  He groaned and practically fell against her.

“Carry me” 

It wasn’t like him, so she had to laugh as she slung his little backpack over her arm before lifting him up, hearing him groan and moan as all the sweets in his stomach sloshed around like poison.

“Gojo gave us candy! And cookies!” 

(y/n’s) head swiveled down to where Tsumiki was walking- well, still skipping- at her side. 

“What did you say?” 

“Gojo gave us sweets for lunch,” Megumi grumbled as his head slumped into her shoulder, his eyes squeezing shut as a particularly painful knot wound itself up in his stomach.  “And money” 

“What!?” (y/n) snapped, louder than she should have, as the other parents at pick-up gave her a mix of shocked and dirty looks.  Not that she cared.  Her kid was sick and it was because that idiot didn’t know what a vegetable looked like!

“I got fifty dollars!” Tsumiki cheered.

“I got a hundred” Megumi whined.

(y/n) gave the boy a few children’s tums as soon as they got back to the apartment, before tucking him into bed so he could hopefully sleep off the tummyache.

“You just rest, don’t worry about your homework, I’ll call the school if you can’t get to it tonight, okay?” 

Megumi only grumbled and groaned in his gratitude as he curled in on himself.  (y/n) frowned.  The poor kid was squirming around in discomfort and there wasn’t much else she could do about it.

Well, there was one thing…

“Hey sweetheart,” Satoru’s grin could be heard even through the phone.  “To what do I owe the pleasure of this call~?”

“Gojo Satoru, you get your ass to this apartment right now!” 

From her spot at the kitchen table where she’d been studiously doing her homework, Tsumiki perked right up at (y/n’s) hollering from the living room.  Her eyes went wide as she grinned with excitement.  She’d never seen (y/n) mad before, not like this anyways.

Just as she’d summoned him, the man himself stood before her in the living room, grinning as though he hadn’t just been screamed at.

“Pretty early in the day for a bootycall-” 

“Satoru!” (y/n) barked at him, her arms flying out as she placed her hands on her hips.  “Did you give the kids sweets and money for their lunch!?”

“Yeah, they loved it, right?” He looked proud, and she swore she could strangle him.

If she had a nickel for every time she didn’t strangle him…

Tsumiki couldn’t even pretend to do her homework while (y/n) went on a long rant about how much of an idiot was, followed by something about not knowing how to make a sandwich, and then the grand finale of her grabbing him by the wrist and yanking him down the hallway so he could see the effects of his unhealthy meal for Megumi.  Even as (y/n’s) scolding took on hushed whispers so as not to wake the sleeping boy, Tsumiki could still hear the harsh tone from down the hall.

When she was dragging him back towards the kitchen again, the young girl quickly picked up her pencil and kept her eyes on her paper.  She wasn’t fast enough, as Satoru noticed and stuck his tongue out at her.

‘Tattletale’ he mouthed at her.

She grinned back at him unapologetically.

(y/n) spent the next fifteen minutes giving Satoru a full tour of the kitchen, pointing out each and every item each of the kids loved, and then she dragged him through it all again to show him what they each disliked.  Tsumiki worked on her studies the whole time, and not once did she see the white haired man complain.  He certainly didn’t look pleased about spending his afternoon being scolded like a misbehaving pet, but he didn’t make a peep about it.

He even stuck around the rest of the afternoon to help out with any other chores (y/n) needed done, and he helped make dinner, too.  Well, (y/n) was the one instructing him on what to do, but Tsumiki found the meal to be edible, and actually semi-okay!

(y/n) let him get off easy, as long as he apologized to Megumi when he woke up.  Which he did, and which Megumi begrudgingly accepted.

He’s given the chance to completely redeem himself a few weeks later on a morning (y/n) made pancakes for breakfast.  He made the Fushiguro kids the perfect lunches as he’d called them, and he insisted only a heaping scoop of chocolate chips in his pancakes, not theirs.  (Though he did sneak a handful into Tsumiki’s grabby hands when she caught him dumping the entire bag into the batter).  He even added his own notes in their lunch bags, even though (y/n) had already put her own doodles in them.

Have a good day! Don’t forget to participate a lot so the teacher favors you and gives you good grades! He’d written for Tsumiki.

Make sure to tell (y/n/n) that this lunch was made extra special for you so i get some brownie points <3 Was Megumi’s note.

He rolled his eyes as he crumpled it up and threw it back into his lunch bag without a second thought.  When he’d brought it home that day and put it back in it’s spot in the cupboard he’d completely forgotten it.  So it sat there until the next morning when (y/n) was preparing their lunches again.

When she unzipped the bag to see the small piece of trash, she’d almost made the mistake of scolding Megumi for not throwing it away.  But for some reason curiosity got the best of her as she smoothed out the creases of the pink post-it, only to be gifted with a nervous swell of her heart.  She couldn’t explain why, but she tucked it away in her pocket and went about the rest of the morning with a smile on her face.  Megumi and Tsumiki were just glad to see her in a good mood, and didn’t question it too much.

The subject of the note didn’t come up again until the night of (y/n’s) twentieth birthday.

With it being such a big milestone, Shoko insisted on taking her out for the night.  She’d been twenty for a few months longer, and had been biting at the bit to have her best friend share nights with her on the dancefloor at the bar she’d been frequenting mostly alone.  Satoru would go with her sometimes as well, since he was of age too, but Shoko claimed it was no fun when he wouldn’t drink.  (y/n’s) birthday was a big deal.

So naturally and per Shoko’s demand, Satoru was set to babysit- as much as the Fushiguro kids hated the word- while Shoko took (y/n) out for the night.  And it went…

“Would you take the damn shoes off already? You’re going to break an ankle” Satoru’s arm shot out to stabilize the giggling, wasted girl stumbling beside him as he tried to guide her through her building’s lobby.

“No,” (y/n) shook her head defiantly before swatting his hand at her waist with the same attitude.  He didn’t move it, and she didn’t try to push off his help again.  “I loooove these shoes!” 

In an eager display she kicked her foot outwards, showing off the strappy heel that was already starting to untie at her ankle and droop a bit off of her foot.  To Satoru’s surprise, she actually kept her balance perfectly fine on one foot.

“Keep your feet on the ground,” He reprimands anyways, just as she goes back to walking normally.  “Don’t make me teleport you up there” 

“Don’t you dare!” She shouts back at him, and he has to fight off a laugh as he shushes her.

He’d seen (y/n) drink before, on the occasion Shoko or Suguru had managed to get their hands on anything, but he’d never seen her like this.  Although he’d been slightly annoyed when he’d been called to play designated teleporter and bring both girls home from their celebration at a club he’d never heard of.  The annoyance only increased tenfold when after the initial trip, (y/n) had warned him she was bound to be sick if he did it again.  Which led them here, with Satoru trying to corral her into the elevator at two in the morning.

He’d rought Shoko straight to the spare room, where she’d passed out on top of the covers without so much as a goodnight.  She’d wake up feeling like she’d been struck by a bus for sure, but at least she had no issue with the effects of teleporting.

She continued to grumble about her offense to his threat.  Satoru chuckled as he all but pulled her into the elevator.

“I’m not, I’m not,” He assured her, making sure she was steady leaning back against the wall before pressing the button for her floor.  “You’re not gonna get sick in here, are you?” 

She shakes her head, but her eyes are closed as she cranes her neck all the way back, grinning at who-knows-what.  Nothing amusing had happened- besides her own drunken antics- but Satoru finds himself infected by her, and he’s smiling as well.

“It was sooo m’ch fun,” She answered his unspoken curiosity.  “Shoko’s a realllyy good dancer, I had n’ idea” 

“I’m glad it was fun,” He tells her, and he means it.  Even when he has to guide her off the elevator and to her door like it was her first time there.  “You’ll have to take me dancing with you next time, I could show you some moves” 

Normally she rolls her eyes at his flirting, or hits his shoulder in that silent motion she always does to remind him that they were friends and she’d drawn a thick line in the sand just to prove it.  Tonight, she giggles like she couldn’t have kept her humor and joy contained if she tried.  Her teeth flash as she grins from ear to ear, her eyes crinkle and they smudge some of her mascara against her skin as they do but she doesn’t seem to care.  She doesn’t seem to notice.  She just smiles and laughs at him.

His heart warms, so much he worries it might melt completely if he leaves it there in the palms of her hands, but he lets it remain in it’s place anyway as he pauses at the door of her apartment, lingering in the hall for just a moment longer so he could admire her like this.

Happy.  Happy with him.

Satoru might be delusional, but her head tilts to the side, almost dropping to her shoulder from how heavy it feels, and he thinks from the look in her eye, that maybe she could be admiring him, too.

Reality is cruel and reminds him that even if she was, she wasn’t in the right state of mind, and she very well could have been lost in her thoughts.  So he pushes his sunglasses back up the bridge of his nose before unlocking the door and making sure she walked in okay.

“You’re home!” 

The excited cheer from Tsumiki is quickly drowned out by Satoru’s scolding.

“What are you both doing up?” He asked, uncharacteristically irritated with them.

“You left,” Tsumiki shrugged innocently.

Megumi, who sat beside her on the sofa, seemed to have fallen asleep against the armrest, his arms wrapped around his head for a better cushion as he continued to slumber, even through his sister’s loud shriek.

“And we wanted to give (y/n) her birthday present” The girl finished sweetly.

“It’s two in the morning, it’s not even her birthday anym-” 

“Awww!” (y/n) cooed as she clasped her hands over her mouth in shock.  “Tsu that’s so sweet of you! I can’t wait to see it!” 

It took some arguing, but Satoru eventually convinced (y/n) to get her ridiculous heels off while he put the kids back to bed.  Megumi didn’t fuss once when he picked him up off the couch.  He didn’t even bat an eye.  Tsumiki was a bit more upset with the trip back to bed.

“But she wants her present!” 

“You can give it to her in the morning,” Satoru told her.  “It’s late.  She’s going to crash.  Trust me, she’ll be far more excited about it tomorrow” 

Tsumiki pouted as she begrudgingly climbed into bed, but didn’t argue again after Satoru tucked her in and shut her door for the night.  She even gave him a small goodnight.

“Sweet dreams, kiddo” 

“Is (y/n) going to be okay?” She asked before he could shut the door all the way.  He laughed to himself, nodding his head.

“Nothing to worry about, she might just have a tummy ache.  She’ll sleep it off,” He assured her.  Tsumiki nodded back at him as she settled back into her feathery pillow, overwhelmed by her sleepiness rather quickly.  “Just get some sleep, I’ll take care of her” 

Tsumiki seems satisfied with this answer, as she nods and starts to drift off to sleep.  What Megumi lacked in faith in Satoru, Tsumiki made up for tenfold.  For starters, she seemed to actually like him.  She was always happy to have him as company, always trying to climb up to his shoulders and demanding he piggy back her anywhere they went.  Megumi tended to cling to (y/n’s) side, knowing she’d protect him from Satoru’s physical affections.  But secondly, Tsumiki could pick up on the sweet little things that her younger brother didn’t.  She noticed the way that Satoru listened when (y/n) was talking.  The way his eyes never lost focus when they were on her, the way his teasing picked up, as did the pet names.  Honestly, Tsumiki wasn’t sure if Megumi didn’t notice, or if he was completely ignoring it, because it was hard to miss.  

Satoru was very sweet on (y/n).

So when he said he’d take care of her for the night, Tsumiki believed him.

Before Satoru can make his way back to the living room where he’d left the plastered birthday girl, he could hear her across the hall, a soft voice through the open door opposite of Tsumiki’s.

He peeks his head through the crack in the door, about to chastise her for waking up the sleeping eight year old, but the scold dies in his throat as he catches sight of them.

She’s perched on the side of his bed, one leg tucked under herself as she hums a gentle, melodic tune.  One hand is combing through the mess of Megumi’s hair that’s grown tangled from his tossing and turning, and he doesn’t seem to stir or be bothered at all from the action like he usually is when someone touches his hair.  But even more out of character than that, when (y/n) reaches her free hand to grab the one that Megumi had hanging off his mattress, he lets her hold onto it for a lingering minute after she carefully sets it on a more comfortable place over his covers.  A few lyrics slip past her lips in a murmur of a lullaby amidst her humming.  She gives his hand a squeeze, just a gentle little affirmation to remind him that she was there.

Even from the doorway, Satoru can see the boy’s small fingers wrap around her hand, squeezing back, and then keeping his hold on her.  His initial surprise melts away into something softer.  A warm feeling washing over his chest from knowing that Megumi found a comfort in the woman’s presence, and while he was often too reserved to tell her outright, like his sister would, it was still known that (y/n’s) care for these kids was mutual, returned by the both of them greatly.

With a small smile, (y/n) glances over to Satoru in the hallway, as though to silently ask if he’d seen the small action.  He nodded back at her, before beckoning her to leave the room and let the boy sleep.

“Sleep tight, ‘gumi,” She mumbles softly, giving his head an affectionate scratch before pulling her hand from his hair.  “Love you” 

It was small, but undeniably heard when the half-conscious child mumbles back, “Love you too” 

(y/n) pauses as she’s standing from his bed, her eyes widening with soft surprise at the whispered words.  It hits her then that in the few times she’d casually bestowed them upon the kids it was never quite returned.  Megumi had drifted off to sleep just as her weight had shifted off his mattress, but still, she stood over him with a look on her face as if she expected an explanation.

Not that she needed one- the words spoke for themselves.  Her lips curled into a smile and the alcohol in her system wasn’t the only thing making her chest feel warm.  She gave his hand another squeeze before carefully letting go, making sure it stayed in a place where it wouldn’t hang off the bed again.

On the tips of her toes she leaves the room to join Satoru in the hall.  He makes sure the door is silent as he closes it behind her.

Her small smile breaks into a grin as she gazes up at him, unable to contain her excitement from hearing those silly little words.

“Did you hear that?” She murmurs as her hands grab the front of his shirt.  The quick motion almost has him stumbling as she bounces eagerly.  “He’s never said that to me before!” Her whispered squealing has Satoru mirroring her grin.

“I heard.  I’m happy for you sweetheart,” He tells her, trying to guide her to her room so she could finally crash for the night.  She stumbles along much more pliantly than she had before.  “Not that you needed him to tell you, of course the kid loves you.  They both do” 

A bashful shade of pink dusts her face as they enter her bedroom.  She falls back onto her bed with a content sigh, despite Satoru trying to get her to change into something more comfortable than the fitted little thing she’d called a dress that she’d gone out dancing in.

“I guess I knew that, but, still, it’s nice to hear,” She murmurs up at the ceiling as she stretches her arms across the length of her bed.  She’s bent over it, her toes barely touching the floor as her legs dangle off the side, but in her stupor she seems comfortable enough.  “Makes me feel like I’m doing something right, yaknow?” 

She pats the spot beside her with her hand, and Satoru drags his feet a bit as he wanders over and sits next to her.

“You don’t need to be told that either,” He muses.  

He rests his palms behind him as he lets himself get comfortable in her space.  When they still lived in dorms, he spent just as much time in her room as he did his own.  Now that he thinks about it, he was probably in hers much more than anyone else’s.  It hadn’t seemed weird back then, but now, it feels personal.  Intimate.  He wonders if she feels that way, or if the invitation into her most private space had been extended without a second thought.  Satoru pulls the shades off his face and tosses them to the side, between the two of them.

“They know you love them, too.  Always have,” He reassures her.  “You’ve done right by them.  You gotta know that” 

(y/n) tilts her head back against the covers, peering up at him from under heavy eyelids as he gazes down at her fondly.  Her room is only lit by the hallway light that’s peeking in through the crack in her not-quite-closed door, and the soft yellow hue paints over his face in a way that somehow makes him more alluring.  Her lowered defenses had her eyes wandering his features longer than she would have had her sober mind worked correctly and reminded her to shut down that curiosity.

That is, she stares at him until the heat in her face and the rapid beating of her heart overstimulates her and she makes herself look away before she says or does something she might regret.

When she does break her long stare, her eyes land on the familiar round shades that happen to be in arm’s reach, and she grabs them and pulls them over her face without a second thought.

Without permission, her mind wanders off to wonder what would’ve happened between them had they gone on that date all those months ago before they graduated.

It’s harder to make out her face with his oversized sunglasses covering her eyes, but Satoru can see her lips tug into a frown.  He’s about to ask her what’s on her mind when she speaks first.

“Would you stay the night?” 

Her fingers are wound into the soft fabric of her covers, fisting it tightly as though it kept her anchored.

“Shoko’s in your spare room already,” He chuckles as he reminds her.  “And she’s hogging the whole bed.  I think if I wake her up she’ll mur-” 

“You can stay in here,” She’s mumbling, half incoherently, but he hears her just fine.  “Like… before” She adds as an afterthought.

He can’t deny the way his heart lurches in his chest at the offer, and the reminder.  The nights he spent sneaking into her dorm to coax her into at least a few hours of sleep, until she’d learned again how to sleep through a night on her own, he’d hold onto forever.  He’d sworn to commit them to memory.  The way she’d melt into his arms, as though she’d only know comfort and solace when embraced by them.  The way she felt against him, against his chest, with her legs wrapped around his, with her face in the crook of his neck, with her hands gripping onto his shirt for dear life, with her heart beating against his.  Satoru had overindulged himself back then, he’d gotten too much of a taste of what domesticity with her could feel like.  Now he craved it, he desperately yearned for it.

The last time they’d even slept in the same room had been the night before their meeting with the Zen’in Clan.  And she’d been far from him, curled up on the floor with that damned letter in her hands.  Satoru wondered now if she still had it.  He wondered if she still slept clutching onto something.  He wondered if she was able to sleep soundly without him now.

He’s sure that he shouldn’t dip even a finger back into this addiction.  He doesn’t think he’ll be able to stand it when she inevitably tells him this is the last time, and pushes him away, again.  

Just like she had done when he’d tried to make them something more.

It’s just one assignment, sweetheart, he’d told her over the phone, knowing fully well that she was all done up on the other end, waiting for him to pick her up at their agreed upon time.  We’ll rain check, promise.

She’d taken in a shaky breath, he could hear it even through the phone, even with the downpour of rain in Yokohama.  He always wondered if she’d cried that day, over him, over the failed attempt at a date, over his failure at showing up for her.

I don’t think it’s a good idea, ‘toru, she’d spoken as evenly as she could, even though it made her voice quieter.

How ‘bout tomorrow, hm? You can pick the place this time, anywhere you want, s’on me- He’d tried to convince her before she could put an end to this thing before it’d even started- hell, they’d barely even had a chance, hadn’t they? 

But her mind had already been made up.  And with a breaking heart, she’d shut him down.

I don’t just mean tonight, she’d said.  I don’t think this is a good idea.

God, he should’ve just stood his ground to the higher ups like he usually did and made someone else take on this stupid assignment.  He wanted to blame them for ruining his one perfect chance with this girl, but at the end of the day, he’d let her decide.  He let her be the one to end it before it really began.

I just… I just need to think about the kids right now, she’d sighed through her words.  As far as excuses go, it wasn’t necessarily a bad one.  They need to come first to me and… and your future should come first to you, too.

He should’ve called bullshit.  He knows that now.  He shouldn't have sat there and agreed with her because he didn’t want them to fight.  Fuck.  He should’ve argued, even if it had meant fighting with her.  As long as it also meant he could’ve seen what she’d chosen to wear for their date, how she’d done her hair, her makeup, then it would’ve been worth it.

I know you’re favored far more over me, but we’ll both always have assignments, she’d explained it like he didn’t already know what this chapter of their lives would look like.  Then again, he’d sat there in silence and let her pour out reason after reason as to why they couldn’t do this.  

Satoru still wasn’t sure if it was him she was trying to convince that day.

And I… and I wouldn’t forgive myself if things didn’t… work… you know? She’d finished shakily, nervously.  For the kids’ sake, Satoru, she’d told him.  For your sake.  For my sake.

He’d agreed.  He’d stupidly agreed.  They never talked about it again after that phone call.  For the most part, nothing had changed.

Except that first time he’d seen her afterwards.  She had a hard time looking at him, and shifted her weight between her feet when he stood too close.  But over time they got back into the groove of their friendship.  He remained abundantly affectionate, and she remained oblivious to the less-than obvious advances.

It was a surprise to him now that she was blurring the lines between them- the lines she’d drawn.  Would it be reckless of him to indulge once more? Would it be painful in the morning when she shooed him away before anyone could know he stayed here, with her? 

Probably.

But what he says is, “Yeah, if you’re sure” 

He does manage to convince her into changing into the comfiest pair of pajamas she could find, so that when she woke it was one less discomfort added to the long list of grievances her hangover would have in store.  Somehow, he gets her to put on a change of clothes and brush her teeth before she’s crawling into her bed with a lazy smile.  It’s almost three in the morning at this point, but worrying about the time is far from Satoru’s mind as she settles into his side like it was still second nature.

Long after she’d dozed off tucked under his arm, he laid there awake, wondering how different things could have been, had he plucked up the courage to say no.  To say this will work, because we want it to work, because I want it to work, because I’ve wanted nothing but to be yours.

But tonight, the only one in this apartment with any guts is Megumi.  Only Megumi was strong enough to articulate how he felt with those special little words that were too heavy for Satoru’s tongue.

With bags under his eyes and sluggish muscles Satoru gets out of bed as soon as he awakes to make breakfast for the full house.  Megumi and Tsumiki are up first, eager for the breakfast buffet Satoru had managed to give them without the smoke alarm going off.  Shoko drags herself out to the kitchen not too long after, downing a full cup of water before bidding them good morning and snagging some of the potatoes before Tsumiki could dump them all on her plate.

Satoru and Shoko tell unflattering stories about (y/n) with great excitement for gossip to the kids while their missing caretaker slept in as late as possible.  Satoru had made sure to bring a cold face mask to her every fifteen minutes or so to keep her headache at bay and hopefully let her sleep as long as she could.  Once she awoke she was in for a world of hurt.  Each time Satoru left the kitchen to do this for her, Shoko turned to the kids with a knowing look and a snicker.

“They were in love in school you know,” She indulged in a more interesting piece of gossip during one of these times.

Tsumiki’s eyes widened as she grinned.  Megumi’s brows furrowed as he pressed his lips together tightly.

“He’d follow her around like a lost puppy, it was hilarious” Shoko shoved a forkful of carbs into her mouth with a fond smile at the memories of lovesick Satoru.

“He still does that” Megumi mumbles, staring down at the remainder of food on his plate.

Shoko beamed with her cheeks full, not at all surprised by the behavior, but endeared to know it hadn’t worn off in time.  Satoru had changed a lot in the last six months, although some might have a hard time noticing, those close to him could see the heaviness he carried on his shoulders with little mannerisms and micro expressions that even he might be convinced aren’t there.  To Shoko and (y/n), who knew the boy like the back of their hand, it was clear.

However she should’ve known that the feelings he’d held for (y/n) since they were fifteen weren’t the kind of feelings that could be worn away.

Satoru’s back in the kitchen attempting to make pancakes in the fun shapes that (y/n) does, desperate to impress everyone- mostly Megumi- but they come out a little more lumpy than hers do.  He complains about it the whole time.  Megumi and Shoko are indifferent.  Tsumiki reassures him that they’re delicious, like the sweetheart she was.

(y/n) joins them for a brief minute, dragging her feet, and a blanket, into the kitchen on a journey to get a big cup of ice water.  The plastic face mask that Satoru had just brought her was velcroed around her head, although loosely, as half of it stayed on her forehead and the other half slipped over one of her eyes.  She made no efforts to fix it.

Shoko’s giggling with great amusement at the state of her lightweight friend.  The blanket cape, the messy hair, the smeared mascara on her exposed eye, it was all too humorous.  She started to pull her phone out to take a picture, but knowing what she was up to, Satoru snatched the device and pocketed it discreetly.  He gave her a sour look, to which she rolled her eyes and went back to breakfast.

He’d fussed over her right away, asking what she was doing up, that he could’ve brought her anything she needed and that she should’ve just hollered.  The three at the table watch as he adjusts her mask for her, reattaching the velcro to fit her snugly, keeping the cool parts of the gel-filled plastic against her throbbing forehead.

Shoko cackles not-so-discreetly behind her hand when he asks her if she was alright for a fourth time.  After a solid minute of insisting that he’d get everything for her, she shuffles back to the comfort of her dark room.

Satoru is quick to fill a cup to the brim with ice and then water, and rather than walk the ten feet to her door, he teleports it to her.  Shoko rolls her eyes and shares a smile with Tsumiki.

“Yeah, nothing’s changed”

It takes a few hours for (y/n) to feel rejuvenated enough to take a shower and join the group lazing around the living room.  Shoko had stayed for the day, so Satoru insisted they take turns picking movies.  (y/n) appears like a woman brought back to life halfway through the second film.  Satoru and Shoko cheer for her revival as she plops on the couch between Tsumiki and Satoru.

“Can we give you your present now?” Tsumiki asks, to which (y/n) eagerly accepts, so she and her brother rush out of the room to retrieve it.

With the kids gone, Shoko can finally give her friends the interrogation she’d been dying to all morning.

“So, you still sleep together, huh?” She raises a curious eyebrow.

(y/n) sighs, dropping her head back against the couch cushion, still feeling too light headed for this conversation.  Satoru doesn’t say anything either, though (y/n) can’t tell if he’s avoiding the conversation, or just didn’t know how to explain himself.  It doesn’t matter, Shoko doesn’t have any more questions, and shortly after, the Fushiguro kids are running into the room again.

They each have a hand on the brightly colored gift bag as they hand it to her.  (y/n) beams at their excitement as she eyes all of the tissue paper they’d stuffed into the bag.

“You help with this?” She muses to Satoru, who shakes his head, looking just as curious as she was.

“We did it all ourselves!” Tsumiki said with a proud grin.

(y/n) pulls out wad after wad of tissue, placing them all on the coffee table as she digs for her gift.  When she finally does get to the bottom of the bag, her lips morph into an ‘o’ as she lifts the piece of art out from the bag.

Shoko’s eyes widen, and Satoru begins to laugh while (y/n) carefully holds the small clay sculpture in her hands.  It couldn’t have been bigger than her hand, but the details were made of delicate pieces of clay, and she worried that if she didn’t handle it with care, it could crumble at her touch.

It was two blades, intersecting to make a perfect X.  The handles sculpted and painted to look quite familiar.

“It’s your swords!” Tsumiki cheered, holding her hands to her face to contain her excitement.

“Wow, this is amazing,” (y/n) admired the sculpture further, taking note of every detail, from blade to hilt, it was a damn good replica.  “You both made this?” 

Tsumiki and Megumi each nodded.

“Tsumiki did the clay, I painted it” Megumi explained.

“We got extra credit in our art classes for it too!” 

Satoru’s laughter grew louder, and (y/n’s) eyes widened with realization as she looked back at the kids.

“You… you made this in school?” She asked, trying not to wince.  “Did you… get in trouble?” 

Sure, the piece was perfect, and their collaboration did deserve some bonus points, but had no administrator gotten upset that an eight and ten year old made a weapon for their art project? 

“I told our art teacher it was from an anime character” Megumi said sheepishly.  (y/n’s) posture relaxed with her relief.

“Smart call,” She chuckles, before setting it down and reaching out to them both to pull them into a hug.  “Thank you.  I love it.  I love that you made it together” 

She sets it on a shelf in the living room with a few other pieces of art and picture frames, making sure to have it be front and center.  Throughout the rest of the movie watching day, her eyes keep wandering to it, wanting to admire the thoughtful craft a little longer. _

Over the next few months, Megumi had been pouting a lot more often.

(y/n) wasn’t sure what it was.  She and Satoru would make his favorite meal for dinner, and he would eat it with a bored expression.  Even with a trip to the library, more practice with his Divine Dogs, extending his bed time for reading purposes only, the boy just seemed to be in a bitter rut.

At first she was worried for him, but Tsumiki had confirmed that nothing was happening at school, he wasn’t being picked on, and his grades, as always, were exceptional.  (y/n) didn’t know what that could possibly leave.

“I just don’t get it,” She huffed as she slumped down into the couch beside Satoru, who had been spending most of his free time at the apartment now.  Some nights he even stayed over, but he always took the guest room.

The night of (y/n’s) birthday had proven to be too much for him.  So when she offered him to stay the night, he made a beeline for the spare bed.  (y/n) never pushed him on it.  But sometimes when they parted ways in the hall, she’d stare at the back of his head, and wonder if he could tell that she’d rather he stayed with her.

Satoru is also caved into the couch cushions, legs spread out wide before him and his arms crossed over his chest.  He looked tired.  He’d spent the whole evening giving Megumi tips and tricks to summoning and befriending his shikigami, hoping to lift the boy’s mood, and maybe score some brownie points, but to no avail.  The boy seemed to have more of an attitude with him than usual, and Satoru wasn’t the best with kids, so he’d given up, and pushed the responsibility back onto (y/n).  Megumi had less of an attitude with her, but his annoyance was still noticeable.

“Do you think we did something?” She mumbles, turning to Satoru with wide, worried eyes, and pinched brows.  Then, she scoots closer to him, until they’re sharing one of the cushions.  He doesn’t flinch at her closeness, unless you count the small hitch in his breath.  “Do you think I did something?” She rephrases her question in an even more haunted whisper.

“No, no of course not,” He shakes his head at her, pushing his sunglasses to the top of his head.  “He’s a kid.  Kids are just jerks sometimes” 

“He is not a jerk,” (y/n) says with narrowed eyes.  Satoru shrugs back at her, tilting his lips into a smirk.  “But… he is a kid.  I guess he could just be… acting out” 

“I acted out all the time when I was his age” Satoru nods as he starts to understand some of Megumi’s behavior.

(y/n) rolled her eyes at him.

“You still act out,” She says, and he wants to act offended when he turns to her again, but it’s too cute when she’s pretending to be annoyed with him, so he finds himself smiling at her, almost proudly.  “You’re the jerk, you know” 

“Me?” He holds a hand over his chest, and she giggles quietly to herself at the act.  “You break my heart, Little Hex” 

Again she rolls her eyes as she leans her head back into the couch cushion, letting out her frustration and exhaustion from the day in a quiet sigh.  It had been a while since Satoru had called her that, a nickname he’d coined back in high school.  She could still remember the first time he called her that, with that saccharine smile and shining eyes, like he was waiting for a reaction.  Boy, did he get one.  Somehow with his predictable flirtations, he still managed to make her blush and fluster.  Even now, she felt her face warm at the fond nickname.

“You’ll get over it, Gojo,” She muses in response, letting her eyes fall shut.  “Hey…” She starts to speak again, but trails off, and her eyes are still closed when he looks over at her to give her his attention.

“Hm?” 

“Do you think… he misses his dad?” 

The question hangs between them for a minute.  (y/n) gnaws on her cheek as her eyes glaze over, getting lost in her messy trains of thoughts that were all beginning to collide.  It was no secret that Megumi held a resentment towards his father, more so than his sister, but (y/n) couldn’t help but wonder if a part of him, the part that was growing up, was starting to feel hurt by the space Fushiguro Toji had left behind.

“He might,” Satoru answers honestly, quietly.  (y/n’s) brows fall as her lips tug into a frown.  Of all the things she could fix, all the questions she could answer, that was one thing she had no control over.  “It’s probably complicated.  He might not think he does, you know?”

(y/n) nods absentmindedly, her teeth digging into her bottom lip now as she worries for the young boy.  

What was she supposed to do? All the love and support in the world wouldn’t make up for the man that was supposed to look out for them walking out.  His mother was one thing, he couldn’t even remember her.  But he had a face to his father’s name.  He had memories.  Maybe even love that he’d buried.  The thought makes her stomach twist with guilt.

“I barely remember my parents,” She whispers, and despite the fact that she’s staring at the ceiling with a hardened, fixed gaze, Satoru turns to her when she says this.  “They’re not gone… but they may as well be.  After I was enrolled at Jujutsu Tech…” 

She didn’t need to explain any further.  Satoru already knew the heartbreak she’d gone through as a young child, having non-sorcerers for parents that looked down upon jujutsu society.  She’d shared her story with him once, when they were no older than fifteen, and Satoru was certain he’d never shake a single detail out of his memory.  She held the same look in her eye now that she did back then as she recalled how she’d been shunned for not following a more ‘honorable’ path.

It wasn’t often she thought of her family- she hardly considered those people family anyways- but now they cross her mind as she empathizes with Megumi.

“It’s not the same, I know,” She sighs, shaking her head as though to erase their faces like an etch-a-sketch.  Even after all these years, she hasn’t quite forgotten them.  “But… losing family at a young age sticks with you,” 

Finally, she turns her head to one side, meeting his watchful stare.

“Whether you want it to or not” 

Satoru frowned.

“Missing people is hard like that,” He sighs.

Neither one of them have the strength to talk about him though, so he glides over the topic and brings their focus back to Megumi.

“But he’s still a little kid.  You give him a lot of credit for being so mature, it’s spooky, but he’s going to process things like a little kid,” He reminds her.  “You’re not doing anything wrong.  Neither is he.  He’s just…” 

“Processing” (y/n) mumbles softly.

He nods back at her, bringing his elbow to the top of the couch so he could prop his head in his hand.

“Have you ever…” Satoru trails off, deciding mid sentence if it was a good idea to ask her this question.  She waits patiently for him to continue, in need of any kind of advice on the situation.  “Have you ever thought about opening up to him? You know like… relating to him?”

She blinks, but the rest of her expression doesn’t change.  Not a single movement.  Satoru thinks he might have suggested the wrong thing, but before he can take it back, she gives him a small smile.

“You know, that’s actually not a bad idea,” She hums, and she can see he’s shocked that she thought so.  “You’re almost getting decent at this parenting thing” 

He chuckles, dropping his hand from his head to stretch his arm across the length of the couch, beckoning her to come closer.  She huffs in defiance, but doesn’t have any further protest as she slides closer to him, until their legs are pressed together and her head leans into his shoulder.

“I’m learning from the best” He chuckles like it’s a tease, but his words couldn’t have been more genuine.

It took some time for (y/n) to approach the subject with the boy.

But it was one night while they were walking home late together that just felt like the right time.  It was just the two of them, (y/n) had brought him to a secluded place in the woods they found where it was safe for him to practice summoning his shikigami, while Satoru stayed at the apartment with Tsumiki.

It was late, the sun had gone down an hour ago, and the streets had cleared enough to give them a bit of privacy as they made their way back to the apartment.

So she figured, here goes nothing.

“Has something been bothering you, Megumi?” 

At first he drops his head, staring down at the sidewalk as he mulled over the question.  If (y/n) focused enough, she could see the gears in his head turning, weighing his options, the pros and cons, thinking through the possibilities of where this conversation could go.  Had she not been worried about him, she might have giggled at how cutely the eight year old processed any question asked of him.

“You don’t need me to remind you that you can tell me anything,” She tells him honestly, glancing up at the stars beginning to shine through the night sky.  “You’re allowed to be upset about things, you know” 

“I know” He finally mumbles out, kicking a stray pebble in his path. 

On uneven edges, it rolls awkwardly onto (y/n’s) side of the path.  She gently kicks it back to his side.  They play this little game in silence for a few minutes, until Megumi kicks it with too much enthusiasm and it’s sent into the storm drain.  Teasingly, (y/n) tells him she’s won.

“I feel bad for being upset” 

She looks down at him upon this confession, tilting her head curiously, wondering what it could be that he’s been carrying that’s making him feel so lost.

“That happens sometimes,” She treads lightly.  “As long as you know that you shouldn’t.  You can’t help what you feel, you know” 

Megumi sighs, his shoulders slumping forward with a restlessness he was far too young to feel.

“I guess,” He replies, because he knows she’s right.  Still, it was hard to be comforted when there was a loom of guilt hanging over his head like a storm cloud.  “I don’t think I like love” 

(y/n) hums as she takes in the statement.  It was heavier than he’d realized, and it took her a minute to really think about it, about what he must be feeling.  She had a sneaking suspicion that this was about his father, after all.

“Love is complicated, isn’t it,” She sighs, and it’s not a question, moreso a statement of fact.  Megumi doesn’t say anything.  “The world will tell you it’s unconditional.  When in fact… people don’t work like that, do they?” 

He looks up at her, his eyes round with shock, like she’d told him a great secret that he shouldn’t have been allowed to hear.  Santa isn’t real, or this is all a simulation.

“Individual people are so different, and they’re meant to be, aren’t they?” This time she waits for his response, but Megumi can only muster up a nod.  She takes it.  “Everyone has their standards, their conditions.  Even you, right?” 

“I don’t like it when people are mean for no reason” Megumi comments, and (y/n) smiles as she nods at him, affirming that he understood what she was saying.

“Exactly,” She muses.  “It’s just… some people’s conditions… well, they’re unreachable.  Impossible.  Sometimes they’re outright dumb” 

Honestly, Megumi’s not sure where this little rant is coming from, but he finds himself hanging onto her every word anyways.  It intrigued him, the way she described love.  He’d never heard someone speak about it with such… distaste.

Usually adults tried to tell him that love is the ultimate happiness.  Romantic love, familial love, platonic love, whatever it may be.  He was always reminded that love was powerful, beautiful, transcendent.  To hear (y/n) speak of it now like it was a trick to be wary of was confusing to him, but he was intent on learning more.

“I’ve never talked to you about my family, have I?” She asks, and again, it’s less of a question, and more of a prompt, a catch for him to realize that no, she’d never mentioned anything about a family.  She only ever spoke of her classmates and colleagues at Jujutsu Tech.

Megumi shakes his head, feeling his guilt hovering over his head again as he realizes he’d never even thought to ask about the subject.

“Well, there’s a reason,” (y/n) says, easing some of his anxiety.  “They had conditions to their love.  Ones that I couldn’t meet.  Or, refused to, is more like it” 

“Really?” Megumi’s eyes widened with surprise.

“Yep,” She affirmed.  “They didn’t want me to be a jujutsu sorcerer” 

Now he looked like a deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming car.  His mouth dropped open and his eyes grew impossibly bigger.

“Why?” 

“They weren’t gifted like you and me,” She explains.  “They were non-sorcerers, had never even heard of jujutsu society.  So you can imagine their surprise when their kid started teleporting all around the house.  I was a handful, you know,” 

Megumi lets out a little giggle at the idea, and (y/n) smiles warmly that he’s starting to break down the walls he’d been building up around him in his seclusion.  

“I was no older than you when my cursed technique manifested,” She tells him.  “And it wasn’t long until someone from the school found me” 

“Just like you came to us?” Megumi asked.

(y/n) tilted her head from side to side.

“It was a bit different,” She admitted.  “They wanted to enroll me at the school, train me to properly hone my technique, teach me about the real world of jujutsu, it was a big ask.  A big change” 

“But your parents didn’t want you to go?” Megumi’s brows furrowed.

(y/n) nodded down at him.

“They forbid it” 

The boy shook his head, trying to understand, but he was struggling, too puzzled by this story.

“But, why?” He asked.  “Jujutsu sorcerers are good! You have cool powers- that- that can help people,” He looked up at her with his face contorted by his confusion.  “Why didn’t they understand?” 

(y/n) gives him a sad smile.  She’d asked herself that same question for years after she’d left her home in pursuit of something greater than it, greater than her.

She looks forward as they continue their walk, not too far from the apartment building now.

“They were so worried about losing their kid, that they didn’t think about the damage they’d do by keeping them from following their passion,” She told him the truth, as harsh as it sounded.  “And they ended up losing me anyways” 

It’s quiet for a few beats, until Megumi let out a soft, “Oh” 

“Megumi,” (y/n) calls, reaching down for his hand.  

He lets her grasp onto it.  They stop in their tracks, and he turns to face her.  She still has that small, sad smile on her face.  He recognizes this smile.  She wears it when she’s trying to make him feel better, when she’s trying to convince someone, or herself, that things are alright.  He’s seen this smile so many times now that he wishes she would just frown, but he knows she won’t.  He knows that until the day she leaves this earth she’s going to be the strong one, the one that protects them, no matter the cost.  He’d learned this shortly after meeting her, but he didn’t come to really understand it until the day he was almost taken away from her, and from his sister.

Megumi is a child.  And while (y/n) had grown older in age, and quite a bit in maturity, she really wasn’t that much older than him, in the grand scheme of things.  She’d given up more than just a summer vacation after graduating in order to take in him and his sister.  She’d never talk about it, but Megumi has picked up on the fact that if she wasn’t so busy playing caretaker, then she would have been able to pursue more of her real passion, exorcizing curses.  Sure, she still took plenty of assignments, but it was hard to take the big ones overseas, or the higher grade curses, because she couldn’t leave the two of them alone for too long.

(y/n) crouches before him now, his hand still in hers, and that melancholic smile still present on her lips.

“I believe that your dad loved you, so, so much,” 

His brows furrowed together.  My dad? He thought to himself, as if the words didn’t translate to his language, as if he couldn’t quite remember what they meant, or who they referred to.

“I believe that he did the things he did because he wanted to do what he could for you.  I know it doesn’t make sense now… and honestly it might never make sense.  But I think he was trying to do right by you both he just…” 

She trails off, and for a split second, that false smile falters, and falls into a sad expression that he’d rarely gotten to see on her.  Something snags in Megumi’s chest, an uneven beat of his heart, a pain in his ribs he wasn’t familiar with.

“He just didn’t know how,” She finishes softly, and just as quickly she’s crafting her face to be gentle and comforting again.  “But I’m sorry that he’s not here” 

Megumi tilts his head at her curiously, trying to speculate on what it was to make her say these things to him.

“That’s okay,” He says in a tone that has (y/n) feeling a bit confused too.  Her hand loosens around his, and he pulls away, about to continue their walk.  She quickly stands to walk beside him.  “I don’t really think about him anyways” 

“You don’t?” She asks.  Megumi shakes his head.

“No, he doesn’t really matter, does he?” 

Wow, (y/n) thinks.  What an emotionally mature child.  But if it wasn’t his absent-now-dead father bugging him, what had been on his mind?

“Hey (y/n),” Megumi calls before she can ask him her question, and she gives him her attention.  “What are your conditions?” 

“My conditions?” She repeats, although she knows what he means.

“Yeah” Megumi replies in a small voice.

“Silly kid,” She giggles and ruffles his hair, much to his annoyance, but he doesn’t swat her hand away, just glares at her as he fixes the messy raven locks.  “I’m the exception to the rule of course.  I have no conditions when it comes to loving you two” 

“Corny,” He mutters with fake malice.  “But what about Gojo, then?”

With a raised brow, (y/n) looks down at the boy, waiting for him to complete the question.  Megumi just stared up at her expectantly, his head cocked towards one shoulder.

“What about Gojo?” She repeats with a tilted inflection, wondering what he was getting at.

Megumi huffs with more annoyance than she could’ve thought his little body was capable of holding.

“Well, don’t you love each other?” He asks, exasperated, like he’d been holding onto this fact for too long, like it was heavy, and he was tired of lugging it around.  “Isn’t that why he’s around all the time? Isn’t that why he never leaves anymore?” 

(y/n’s) lips part in surprise, ready to say something, anything to deflect, or excuse, but she can’t think of a decent enough argument, and she finds herself remaining in silence as they approach their building.

“He’s so obnoxious,” Megumi continues, and (y/n) watches him with a strange curiosity as he goes on to speak.  “He’s loud.  And annoying.  And too touchy,” 

She chuckles fondly to herself, as she couldn’t help but agree with all of Megumi’s grievances with the man.  Of course these were all traits she’d found some way to appreciate.  

He was loud, but he spoke up for others, and had he not done so on her behalf, she might not be here with Megumi now.  He was annoying, but he made it known that he enjoyed spending time around her, and he’d remember all of the things she said she liked or disliked.  He was touchy, but it was just the way he showed affection, every touch, whether it be to hug her goodbye, to pull her to sit closer to him, to comb her hair with his fingers so she could fall asleep peacefully, it all just meant that he cared.

Thinking about it now, her face began to heat up, and her heart began to beat erratically in her chest.  Had Megumi figured it out for her? Had she really grown to love all of those things?

“He doesn’t ever stop talking about you,” Megumi goes on, drawing her out of her thoughts and back to his rant.  “Especially when you’re not around.  He just goes on and on.  About high school, about how cool you are, how pretty you are, how strong you are,” 

Despite his irritation, Megumi’s cheeks begin to burn too, a little embarrassed to be passing this information on.

“And when he makes my lunches, even his notes are about you.  And they’re stupid.  But he’s stupid,” He rolls his eyes between complaints.

(y/n) thinks back to the little post-it she’d snagged from his lunch box a few months ago.  There had been others? She was curious now about what they said.  Did he do it every time he made their lunch?

“And Shoko said you were in love once,” 

Her attention returns to the boy again, eyes round and lips still parted, still waiting to say something that wasn’t coming to mind.  Shoko said that? 

“Are you not anymore?” 

He looks up at her just as they approach the front doors to their building.  (y/n) swallows the lump in her throat as she pushes it open, letting him inside first.  The warm air in the lobby is welcoming, and she pops open the buttons to the light jacket she’d worn to help keep warm during the chilly fall night.

Megumi was still staring at her as they made their way through the lobby to wait for the elevator.  She knows he was expecting an answer, a real one, but truth be told, (y/n) wasn’t sure what the answer even was.

“We were young,” She sighs out eventually, shaking her head as she struggles to come up with the rest.  “Did we have feelings for each other? Maybe, but I don’t know about love.  We were close friends.  Still are” 

She thinks this is a good answer.  It’s the truth, and it’s enough of an explanation to quell Megumi’s curiosities.  She thought wrong.

“Well, what about now?” He asks, stuffing his hands into his coat pockets.

“You’re nosey tonight,” (y/n) chuckles, trying to nonchalantly brush him off and leave their conversation at that.  But Megumi continues to stare at her with furrowed brows.  “What?” She laughs nervously at him, raising her hands in mock defense.  “What more is there to say?”

“Shoko said you were in love,” He deadpans, and (y/n) makes a mental note to cuss out her friend for gossiping with literal children about her love life- or more accurately, lack thereof.  “So what was the condition that you don’t anymore?” 

“I never said I didn’t-” 

“So you do?”

They stare at each other in silence.

There’s a ding! And the elevator doors before them slide open.

(y/n) ushers Megumi in without a word, and he excitedly pushes the button for their floor.  (y/n) crosses her arms as the doors close again.  Her foot taps anxiously on the floor.

“Is this why you’ve been upset lately?” She finally speaks as the elevator begins to move.  Megumi looks up at her, but her eyes remain focused on the changing numbers on the panel as they pass each floor.  “Satoru’s been around more and you don’t like him?” 

“I didn’t say I didn’t like him,” Megumi mutters, annoyed at having to admit such a thing.  (y/n) lets out a small chuckle.  “He’s just annoying.  I don’t know why you do,” He explains.  “You’re cooler than him” He adds in a smaller, more bashful voice.

“Can’t argue there,” (y/n) hums in amusement, smiling down at him fondly.  “But you don’t have anything to worry about, ‘gumi,” She says, and seeing as he’s trapped in the small space, when she reaches down and snatches him up with the excitement of finding a stray toad on her path- he can’t do anything but squeal and thrash his arms in protest.  “You’re the only one for me, Fushiguro Megumi!” She cheers in a loud, lovesick manner.

The elevator doors open, allowing anyone on their floor to hear the boy’s screams of torture and giggles of delight when (y/n) tosses him over her shoulder to tickle him relentlessly.

“(y/n)!” He screams her name in choked up pleas of mercy.  “Stoooop!” 

His hollers fell on deaf ears as (y/n) cackled the whole way to the door.  She didn’t let up until she had to fish for the keys in her pocket.  Megumi huffed, hanging limply over her back, panting as he caught his breath, his laughter finally dying down.

“You’re a jerk” He muttered in defeat.

(y/n) cackled as she got the door open, and Megumi’s body was practically swinging behind her back as she hauled him inside.

Much to the delight of Satoru and Tsumiki, who had been sitting at the kitchen table, having a little spa day.

So while they were laughing at Megumi’s distress, (y/n) was laughing at the sight of Satoru with a big fluffy pink headband, the one Tsumiki used for the couple of times that (y/n) would let her do face masks with her.

His hair stuck out in every direction under the big bow on top, and there was a green substance smeared all over his face that (y/n) could only hope was from the rejuvenating face mask tube that she kept with her things in the bathroom.  And better than that- Tsumiki was halfway through painting his names.  He had one hand flat on the table, the polish still drying, while the ten year old held his other hand to carefully apply the color.

“Oh my god,” (y/n) couldn’t help the string of giggles that escaped her, and she finally set Megumi back on the ground so that he could also appreaciate the entertainment.  “You girls have a nice day to yourselves?” 

“Yeah!” Tsumiki cheered.  “We watched a romance anime and Gojo’s letting me paint his nails and we were talking about boys and we’re doing face masks!” 

(y/n’s) still laughing as she kicks off her shoes, before neatly setting them on the small rack by the door with the other smaller pairs of shoes.  She shrugs off her coat and drapes it over the couch before making her way further into the room so she could see what color Tsumiki had chosen for Satoru’s manicure.

“She said we were doing facemasks,” Satoru deadpans as (y/n) peers over the girl’s shoulder.  “But she chickened out” 

“Did not!” Tsumiki argued.  “I just only have one headband.  I didn’t want to get any in my hair” 

(y/n) continues to giggle when she finally gets a look at Satoru’s hands.  Tsumiki had all of her polishes on the table, so each finger was a different color.  Mostly variations of pink and purple, but there was one green and one blue in there too.  When she meets his gaze, he’s silently pleading with her, but her mouth twists into a grin that tells him she was not here to bring him to a merciful end.

“Very good job you’ve done here, Tsumiki,” She praises the girl instead.  “Satoru has never looked prettier!” 

He should’ve rolled his eyes and quipped back some sarcastic remark, but Tsumiki was finally painting his last fingernail and it would all be over soon.  So instead he grins from ear to ear, taking her half-insult as a compliment.

“Why thank you, (y/n/n).  Finally, I’m appreciated for my beauty” 

(y/n’s) the one who rolls her eyes.

Once Tsumiki applies the last stroke of glittery pink polish on Satoru’s pinky nail, (y/n) tasks her with cleaning up the mess on the table.  It appears she’d been ready to give the man a full makeover, looking at all the makeup, nail polish, and hair supplies littered over the surface.

“Come on pretty girl, I’ll get the mask cleaned off your face,” (y/n) beckons for Satoru to follow her towards the bathroom.  “We can’t have you ruining your pretty manicure” She snickers as the pair disappear down the hall.

Megumi helped his sister gather her things back into the boxes she kept them neatly organized in.

“How did it go with your dogs?” She asked curiously.

“Good,” He answers.  “(y/n) is in love with Gojo” 

His sister stares back at him with wide eyes, and a slow grin creeping over her face.

Meanwhile, (y/n) is sitting Satoru down on the lid of the toilet while the sink water runs until it’s warm enough that it won’t be a shock to his skin.  Once it’s ready, she wets a corner of a washcloth and carefully begins to wipe off the creamy face mask.

“I can’t believe you let her do this” She murmurs, bringing the rag back under the running water to rinse away the excess paste.

“(y/n), as a dear friend, I need you to be honest with me,” He says, and her eyes lock on his, her hand stalling in it’s ministrations, holding the rag to his brow as she gives him her undivided attention.  His expression looks grave.  “Is this going to absolutely fuck up my pores?” 

His eyes are wide like he’s never been more afraid of anything in his life, and (y/n) can’t help but burst into laughter as she goes back to cleaning away the cream on his forehead.

“Well, it shouldn’t,” She says, and Satoru visibly relaxes.  “But I don’t know what she was thinking putting so much on your face” 

“Maybe she just wanted to be close because I’m so devilishly handsome” He smirks up at her, and she lets out another laugh, turning back to the sink again to rinse the rag.

“I think she just wanted to play dress up with you” (y/n) mused.

“I think she just wanted to have girl talk,” Satoru replied.  “Which apparently I’m quite good at.  If you’re ever interested” 

Another giggle escapes her as she gets to work cleaning away the cream on his cheek, being careful as she drags the rag slowly under his eye.  She’s focused on her work, but Satoru can’t draw his attention away from her.  He couldn’t remember the last time she stood so close to him, and right now her face hovered just a few inches away from his.

It was hard to keep his hands firmly planted on his knees, and not hold her by the waist and draw her into the space between them.  But then he’d ruin his manicure.

“I didn’t realize she was getting so interested in boys,” She hums thoughtfully.  “Any juicy details?” 

“Not really,” Satoru shrugs.  “I told her to start playing hard to get if she really wants to get someone’s attention.  She said she didn’t want their attention.  She just likes making friends with the cute boys in her class” 

(y/n) laughs softly and shakes her head, but she can’t help but smile proudly to herself.

“That’s my girl,” She praises, even though Tsumiki wasn’t present.  “She doesn’t need boys right now.  She’s doing great in her classes” 

Satoru shrugs a shoulder.

“You enjoy girl talk, hm?” She asks.

Admittedly, she could have cleaned his face of all this face mask cream by now, but she couldn’t help her slow movements.  The longer she dragged this on, the longer she could stand right in front of him and stare at his pretty features.  Her conversation with Megumi was still on the front of her mind, and while she’d brushed off the boy’s questions about her feelings minutes ago, standing before Satoru now, she wasn’t so sure she could deny them.

She’d known for a long time that she harbored strong feelings for him.  While at first she’d squashed them down because she refused to admit she’d fallen for an arrogant fool like him, over time, she’d come to understand him better, and soon he’d become one of the greatest people she’s ever known, and she wasn’t so sure she’d ever meet anyone like him again.

But things got messy. She got involved with the Fushiguro’s, [redacted] defected, and now that they’ve graduated and are trying to lead their own lives, it just got too complicated.

It didn’t help that when he’d tried to take things to a more than platonic level, she’d shot it down as soon as things got tricky.  As soon as he got called into an assignment the night they were going to go out, she’d closed herself back up, rebuilt the wall around her, and told him it was never going to work, so they may as well never try.

She’d done the right thing, right? 

Trying not to stare too long at him now, she wasn’t so sure.

“Oh, I quite love girl talk,” Satoru grinned.  “No wonder you and Shoko always snuck off.  Hey, you ever talk about me?” His grin turns into a smirk as his bright eyes try to catch hers.  She pretends to be too focused on clearing the green goop off his nose.

“Only when I needed to complain,” She muses affectionately.  “I’m sorry to say most of our gossip involved Ijichi” 

“That kid that’s a manager?” He asked with a furrowed brow.  “That’s your type?” 

He sounded annoyed, and confused.  (y/n) chuckled, turning back towards the sink for another rinse.

“No,” She shakes her head, and Satoru readjusts his posture, sitting up a little straighter with his confidence returned.  “But he was always smitten with Shoko.  I think eventually he was so into her she couldn’t help but take an interest in him, too,” 

Satoru nods, pursing his lips as he thinks back on it.  There were a few times that she’d blown off plans to twirl her hair at the younger boy.  He’d always thought she was just messing with him, now he wonders if anything ever came of it.

“I think they hooked up a couple times,” (y/n) indulged in a quieter voice, her eyes meeting his with a curious excitement he hadn’t seen in a while.  “She never admitted it.  But I’ve seen the hickeys.  That’s all I’m saying” 

Satoru laughed with delight.  He really did enjoy girl talk.  He also enjoyed seeing (y/n) this happy.

“Well geez.  I guess I’ll have to hit her up on that.  What’s she got on you, huh?” 

Her brows pinched together as a scoff of a laugh escapes her, her lips stretching into an awkward smile.  Her eyes meet his and they’re prodding, eager to hear more of this juicy content.

(y/n) shakes her head as more nervous laughter bubbles up.

“Afraid you’ll be rather bored, ‘toru” She hummed, going back to scrubbing the cream off of his other cheek.

“What, no time for boys?” He leans forward, making her stall in her movements, and bringing her gaze back to his.  Her eyes flicker between his for a moment, trying to figure out why he was asking this of her now.  He knows the answer to this question.  Why was he even asking it?  

Her head tilts at him in a small movement as she thinks through her answer, her eyes never leaving his.

“That’s private” She murmurs, just to gauge his reaction.

It was a pleasant one indeed.  Only because she got an up close look was she able to see the twitch in his brow, the slow locking of his jaw before quickly relaxing it.  So the notion that she did have something to tell bothered him.  Interesting.

“So you have a little time for boys, then?” He asks, and the grin that stretches on his lips is anything but eager.  It’s counterfeit.  And almost poisonous.

“Why the sudden interest?” She hums, straightening her posture and going back to cleaning his face.

“Why the sudden need for privacy?” He asks, leaning forward again, seeing as she’d tried to put a few inches of distance between them.  Her eyes briefly catch his, but she’s quick to return her focus.  “I thought we said no more secrets” 

A humorless laugh escapes her throat as she shakes her head at him.

“Satoru, how many times are you going to assume I’m hooking up with someone when I’m not?” She asks, only half-teasing.

“Hey, that’s not all on me, you were the one sneaking around in the middle of the night! A bootycall was the only logical answer” 

“Except it wasn’t, and it isn’t” (y/n) reminds him.

“I’m still not totally convinced” He grumbles, rolling his eyes away from hers as he mulled over the scraps of evidence in his head.

“I can’t tell if you’re being nosey or completely jealous” She muses.

“Can’t a guy be more than one thing?” His eyes are on hers again in an instant as he grins up at her, this time with his usual charm that he tried to pull.

“Sure you can,” She grins back at him.  “And you’re predictable” 

His grin falls, but not completely.  His lips are still curled into a soft smile as he stares up at her.  It’s quiet for a moment, and there’s still some green mask left on his chin, but it’s momentarily forgotten as she gets lost in his stare.

She supposes she’d get jealous, too, if he started talking about seeing someone else.  Someone else, she thinks to herself, a small crease forming between her brows.  And that wasn’t fair of her to think, was it? He wasn’t hers, she’d made sure of that herself.  But fuck, if the idea didn’t make something nasty twist in her gut.

“I’m not seeing anyone,” She blurts out, as if it wasn’t already clear to him that this was the case.  “If that’s what you’re getting at.  I don’t know why, you know I-” 

She stops herself before something she doesn’t want to say out loud.  He tilts his chin at her, curious to hear the rest of what she was going to say, but judging by the way she presses her lips together in a small smile, he gets the feeling that she’s swallowed her words.

Silently, she wipes the last patch of green cream off of his chin, and turns around to rinse the wash cloth thoroughly.  After working out all of the mask from the cloth, she rings it out and drapes it over one of the towel bars to properly dry.  When she turns back to Satoru, he’s raising his hands to pull the headband off.

“Wait,” Her voice is soft but it still stops him as she reaches out towards him.  “I’ll get it,” She tells him as she loops her fingers through the fluffy band.  “I was serious about not messing up your nails” 

A small giggle escapes her as she slides the headband off, letting his hair fall around his ears and over his forehead.

“I appreciate that you care about my manicure” He half-teases.

Absent-mindedly, she brings her fingers bag to his hair, sweeping a few loose strands away from his eyes.  She doesn’t even realize what she’s done until her eyes meet his, and suddenly she’s retracting her hand and staring back at him with wide eyes.

“I- sorry-” 

“Don’t be,” Satoru smiles at her as he stands from the seat, stretching his tired limbs after sitting there for the last fifteen or so minutes.  “You want help making dinner tonight?” 

Just like that he’s strolling out of the bathroom with her in tow, telling her all of the ideas of things he wants to learn to cook.  A lot of his list is baked sweets, but she listens to him ramble on anyways.  It’s a good distraction for her to calm her racing heart. _

It’s a horrendously chilly day in december when paths cross that (y/n) would have never expected.

She, Satoru, Shoko, and the Fushiguro kids had been out for the day.  It had started with a breakfast that they’d tried to make happen weekly, but had quickly turned into strolling around the shops in Tokyo so the kids could make their christmas wish lists.  This of course was more or less a grocery list of things that Satoru was bound to buy as soon as he received this list, but it was fun for everyone nonetheless.

They’d just walked out of a pet shop, despite (y/n) making it clear that there would be no pets for christmas, claiming Megumi’s dogs were enough.  She was reminding Tsumiki- and Satoru- of that fact as they walked out.

“What do you need a hamster for? Isn’t Megumi feisty enough?” She’d laughed as she’d pulled her hat over her head to keep her ears safe from the nippy cold breeze.  Megumi gives his sister a wide grin, maybe out of pride, even.

“Because they’re so small and cute and fluffy-” 

“Not helping, Satoru,” She swatted at his arm to stop him from getting Tsumiki’s hopes up, before turning her attention to the girl.  “We’re not getting a hamster” 

Just as Tsumiki’s pouty face was almost starting to work, (y/n) catches sight of an old familiar face, and her attention is quickly ripped away from the present as a beam stretches over her mouth.

“Nanami!” 

He’s across the street, so she has to jog to get to him and catch his attention, leaving everyone else without much more of an explanation.

“Been awhile since I’ve seen Nanamin,” Shoko’s the first to speak, as the rest of them are staring at (y/n) as she catches up with the blonde man.  Megumi and Tsumiki watch on with surprise, and a little confusion.  While Satoru’s eyes narrow into a glare behind his shades.  “He looks… good” 

This turned his glare towards the woman, who pursed her lips and shrugged a shoulder.  “What?” She asked innocently.  “The haircut suits him” 

When Nanami Kento finally hears his name and sees (y/n) making her way to him, he lights up.  Recognition turns to delight as she approaches him, and when her arms open wide, he steps closer so that she can throw them around his neck and hug him like he was an old friend, and not just a past acquaintance that had shared trauma.

“Don’t remember them being so close” Satoru huffs, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his coat so that no one could see the way they ball into tight fists.

Hearing the odd seriousness in the usually overly-cheery man’s tone had Megumi looking up at Satoru out of curiosity.  He wore a grimace, even with the shades covering his face, it was perfectly clear.  When the boy glanced back towards where (y/n) was animatedly talking with the man he sort of recognized, an idea brewed in his head.

Tugging on the puffy sleeve of Tsumiki’s coat, Megumi gave her a look, making her follow his line of sight from Satoru’s evil eye, to where (y/n) and her supposed friend from high school were reconnecting.  Tsumiki looked back and forth a few more times, noting how Gojo’s brow furrowed particularly harder as (y/n) grabbed the man’s arm and began to lead him back towards them.

As Nanami and (y/n) grow nearer, Satoru does his best to relax his features, but with the way she’s talking to him so enthusiastically, smiling and gesturing with her hands, he can’t help but have some intrigue.

Questions like when the hell did they get so buddy-buddy? And since when did Nanamin know how to smile? Flooded his mind.  He was dying to know what it was that you were talking about that had you both looking so… engaged.

“Your jealousy’s showing,” Shoko snickered, knocking her elbow into Satoru’s.  He sent her a half-playful scowl, which only made her grin in amusement.  “And here I thought you grew out of that?” She teased.

Meanwhile, and as oblivious as ever, (y/n) had been filling Nanami in on all of the excitement she’d endured since graduating.  He congratulated her, and asked all of the appropriate questions about the kids and the beginning of her career as a jujutsu sorcerer.

“You have to come properly meet the kids,” She’d told him, gesturing back to where the oddball looking group stood outside of the pet shop.  

Nanami glanced over, briefly catching Gojo’s nasty gaze before he smoothed it out into something more friendly.  It didn’t look remotely authentic, but it didn’t help that Shoko was cackling and knocking her arm against his, as though calling him out for his behavior.  He supposed some things would never change.

(y/n) was linking her arm through his and walking with him back towards everyone before Nanami could find a way to politely decline the offer.  It was nothing against the Fushiguro kids, (y/n) made them out to be pleasant little angels, but he had a feeling that Gojo wouldn’t be too keen on her inviting him over.  Especially not arm in arm.

“So you and Six Eyes finally made it work, huh?” The blonde asked, semi bitterly, semi curiously.

(y/n) ducked her head to hide the blush dusting over her cheeks.  Although she supposed it was cold enough outside she could play it off as a chill, she had a feeling Nanami would see through the lie.

“Uh, not exactly.  I mean- not like you mean, anyways.  He helps with the kids a lot” She stammers over her explanation, not knowing the proper way to define their relationship.  Friend seemed too informal and broad to describe what they shared.  Partner was… well, there was a certain connotation there, wasn’t there? Rather than try to find a label for it, she decides instead to shut her mouth.  

Nanami chuckled.

Some things really would never change.

“Still got him to settle down though, hm?” Nanami hums, watching as Gojo ruffles up the hair of the little boy, who then proceeds to turn around and growl at him, smacking at his hand.

This was (y/n’s) little angel? Nanami wondered as the two began to bicker like they were both children.  He couldn’t hear what they were arguing about, but from what he could see, he had a feeling the boy was in the right.

“So he’s… good with the kids?” Nanami asks, and the pair watch as Satoru’s solution to end the bickering was to lift up the kid by his ankle, dangling him in the air.

(y/n’s) eyes momentarily widen, and she jolts as if she’s going to run at the two- probably to scold Satoru and cradle Megumi in her arms like he was younger than he was- but she just as quickly relaxes as Satoru plops the boy on his shoulders.  Megumi is still scowling, but appears to relax and let's Satoru hold him by the ankles while he sits.  (y/n) makes a mental note to take a picture of them later when they’re not paying attention.

“Sometimes,” She finally answers Nanami’s question.  “Tsumiki loves him.  Megumi won’t admit it… but I know he likes him more than he lets on” 

“So you’ll raise kids together, but you won’t put a label on things?” Nanami chuckles.

She looks over at him with a half smile and a raised brow.

“You sure care a lot about my love life, Nanamin~” She points out.  “So what is it? You got a special someone that’s got love on your mind?” 

He laughs again, not because she’s right, but because it was so like her to deflect like her life depended on it.  She had gotten better at it since the last time he’d seen her, too.

When they do approach the rest of her group, Satoru’s line of sight is firmly set on the place where (y/n’s) elbow is hooked around Nanami’s, and it stays there while she introduces the kids to him.  He doesn’t look up, or even force a polite smile, until Shoko is stepping forward and making them split up as she hugs Nanami.

Then, and only once (y/n) stepped closer to Satoru, putting some distance between her and the ex-sorcerer, does he relax.  Megumi groans and kicks his feet out of Satoru’s hold, annoyed by the way he’d gripped his legs.  During the pleasant small talk (y/n) and Shoko makes with the man, Satoru remains silent.  Behind his shades his eyes are piercing and although Nanami can’t quite see it, he certainly feels it.  It’s a bit unsettling, but just like in high school, it was more irritating than anything else.  

Despite barely speaking to him, before the blonde man goes to part ways, Satoru scribbles something down on a receipt he’d found in his pocket, and passes it off to him.  Nanami’s surprised to see it’s a phone number.

“For if you ever want to get back out there,” Satoru said with a nod.  Nanami blinks as he stares at the Six Eyes user, and then back at the receipt.  “I’d get ya back on the field in a jiffy, no questions asked” He continued with a grin, before making a point to sling an arm over (y/n’s) shoulders.  She stumbles as he pulls her against his side, caught off guard by the sudden affection, but she relaxes just as quickly, and doesn’t appear upset by the action at all.

“Thanks” Nanami settles with a small nod of his head.  He doesn’t think he’d ever go back into the world of jujutsu sorcery, but the proposal was still a thoughtful one.  Especially so when he thought he’d been on the man’s shit list for merely talking to (y/n).

They say their goodbyes and part ways with a weak promise of brunch sometime.

Shoko is dragging Tsumiki into the next boutique, saying something about hair accessories that should be on her wish list.  Leaving (y/n) and Satoru to follow behind, with Megumi still perched on Satoru’s shoulders.

(y/n) tucks her hands into the pockets of her coat, stepping out from under his arm, but still walking closely by his side.

“You really think he’ll come back?” She asks after a beat passes, too curious about his thoughts to wait until another time to bring it up.

“I don’t know,” He answers honestly, shrugging his shoulders, although the movement is stiff and awkward with Megumi resting on them.  He giggles a bit at the movement.  “But he looked… bored, didn’t he?” 

When he looks down at her to gauge her reaction, she gives him a small nod.

“Figured a change of pace would be good for him” Satoru finished.

“Maybe you can train him again (y/n),” Megumi pipes up.  He leans over Satoru’s head, resting his arms across the white locks before setting his chin against the puffy sleeves of his coat to rest.  “Like me” 

She smiles up at him sweetly, and nods her head again.  Truthfully, Nanami’s abilities nearly surpassed hers back in the day, but she had no problem with letting Megumi believe she was stronger than she was.

“Maybe then I’ll get good at teaching,” She said, eyes flickering down to Satoru, who beamed at the idea.  “Jujutsu Tech always needs more teachers” She shrugs a shoulder at the thought.

But for now, she tables the idea, putting her focus back into entertaining the kids for the day.  As long as they had a good holiday season, full of the spoiling and love they so deserved, she’d be content.

___

On the third day of February, Gojo Satoru shows up at the (y/l/n)-Fushiguro apartment like a madman that evening.  He appears out of thin air in the living room, and his worried state only escalates when he finds the room empty.  It’s late enough that without the lights, the room is dark, but early enough in the evening that there should have been some form of life in the apartment.

He’s quick to scour through the hallways.  He finds Tsumiki asleep in her bed, and carefully closes the door behind him.  When he turns to Megumi’s room, the boy is still awake, happily reading with the clip-on light on the cover of his book- a gift he’d gotten from (y/n) this past holiday.  When the man practically barges into the room, he’s not as alarmed as he should be.  Satoru appearing out of nowhere had become such a regular occurrence that it would be silly if he still flinched at his sudden presence.

“Sorry, kid, shoulda knocked,” Satoru apologizes sheepishly.  “(y/n/n) here? She didn’t go on a mission, did she?” 

It wouldn’t be like her to take on an assignment and leave the kids alone at the apartment.  Then again, it wasn’t like her to ignore his texts and calls all day.  Eight texts, three phone calls, to be exact.

She’d ignored Shoko’s, too.  Hence is panic and instantaneous arrival at her residence.

Megumi shakes his head, tucking his bookmark into the page he’d been on before setting it down.  He climbs out of bed wordlessly, and walks out of the room, leaving Satoru to follow after him.

He’s a little embarrassed when Megumi takes him towards (y/n’s) room, where her door has been left ajar.  He points through the crack, before looking up at Satoru with a small frown.

“She’s been out there all night,” He says softly.

Satoru furrows his brows, before pushing open the door a little more so he could see for himself what Megumi meant.  Sure enough, her bedroom was unlit, and the window on the furthest wall was slid open.  The curtains surrounding it blow gently with the breeze that creeps into the room.  He can just barely make out (y/n) sitting on the small patch of roof just outside of the window.

“Is she okay?” Megumi asks, his voice even smaller.

He’d never seen her the way she’d acted today.  There had been a ghostly pale look on her face this morning, and then again when she’d picked up him and his sister from school.  Most of the afternoon was spent focused on chores, and then preparing dinner.  Any attempts made by him or his sister to get her to open up, or even smile, had failed.  

And then, once dinner was finished and the dishes were done, she’d excused herself to her room.  After two hours, Megumi and Tsumiki had peeked in to see if she was alright, only to find her sitting on the roof outside her window, alone.

Satoru lets out a sigh, his heart sinking as it finally clicks for him why she’d been so dodgy.  He should’ve figured it out sooner, he realizes that now.

“She’ll be alright,” He answers Megumi, pulling the door shut to give her her privacy again, even though she didn’t seem to notice the onlooking presence behind her.  “Come on, you should get to bed” 

Megumi hesitates, wanting to know more, out of worry for his caretaker that worked so hard to make sure he was content and happy every day of his life.  Now she was struggling and he felt helpless.  But he was just a kid, what was he supposed to do?

“You’ll make sure?” He asks.  It was the closest to asking the man for help that he’d ever gotten, but desperate times call for desperate measures.

Satoru smiles, patting the kid on the head before pushing him gently back towards his room.

“Course I will,” He says, and it seems genuine, so Megumi complies and begins walking back to his door.  “Sweet dreams ‘gumi” 

“Goodnight” Megumi calls, rather than roll his eyes like he wants to.  Well, at least he waits until he’s in his closed room to do so.

Once he’s out of sight and presumably settling back into bed, Satoru opens the door he’s lingered by and slips into the room quickly.  Even as he climbs out of the window- which was a great struggle because it was a small opening and he was all limbs- (y/n’s) attention remains on the sky.

She has her knees pulled to her chest, and now he’s close enough that he can smell the cigarette held between her fingers.

“Thought you quit” He hums as she crawls awkwardly to where she’s sitting.

(y/n) doesn’t flinch at his presence.  He wonders how long she’d realized he was there.  She doesn’t look at him, either, much to his dismay.  She’s still focused on the stars, as though they’d been in the midst of an important conversation.

“Yeah, well,” Her voice is a murmur as she brings the cig to her lips, taking a short drag.  After filling her lungs she exhales, sighing for longer than she had smoke to disseminate.  “Guess I couldn’t help it today” 

Satoru nods in understanding, his attention catching on a small plate beside her.  The tiniest of smiles quirks on the corner of his lips as he sees a lone cupcake sitting on it.  It looks positively delicious, thick vanilla cake wrapped in a colorful paper, topped with a generous amount of frosting, curled over itself in a perfect mountain, and then covered in rainbow sprinkles.

If this was any other cupcake, on any other day, he’d be pushing her off this roof right now just to steal a bite of it.

But this cupcake wasn’t meant for him.

“I know you’re going to worry,” (y/n’s) speaking again, and his eyes drift away from the ominous treat and back to her, even though she’s still refusing to look at him.  “But you don’t need to.  You can go, if you want…” She trails off for a moment, taking in a shaky breath before finishing her thought.  “If you need to grieve… in your own way” 

Amidst the solemn memories that are flooding his mind of this day in past years, Satoru thinks it’s one of the kindest things she’s ever offered to him.  Pushing him away so that he can process this day however he needs, rather than sit here and comfort her while she processes her way.

And it’s not that it’s easy for him, because it isn’t.  He’d woken up today knowing exactly what day it was.  And not just Friday.  Today the weight of the world felt heavier on his shoulders than usual.  His coffee, pumped full of cream and sugar, tasted bitter.  The sun seemed to disappear behind a patch of clouds every time he stepped outside.  The day dragged and dragged, and given the fact that (y/n) had ghosted him for the day hadn’t helped.

But he couldn’t exactly blame her.  Because even he was a reminder to her.  A reminder that their group of three had once been four.  That when he’d met her all those years ago, he’d come as a matching set.  His heart sank for her, knowing there was nothing he could do to ease her mind of pleasant memories now covered in a haze of darkness.  

Guilt.  Regret.  Longing.  

“No, sweetheart,” He murmurs to her, sliding himself over the shingles to be closer to her.  Her hair is down, and it covers her side profile, so it’s still hard for him to see her, but for once he’s patient.  “No, ‘m not goin’ anywhere” 

It’s quiet for quite some time.  (y/n) continues puffing on the cigarette until the taste turns sour in her mouth, and then she’s stumping it out on the shingles, only half smoked.  Satoru hopes this means she really has quit the nasty habit, and tonight wasn’t a backslide on an old addiction, but instead a small escape towards nostalgia.  While she fiddles with the dead cig in her fingers, he notes it was the brand that Shoko always picked up.  The very brand that back in high school, she’d made smoke buddies out of (y/n), and Suguru too, smoking those exact cigarettes.

“D’you think he’s celebrating?” 

Her voice catches in her throat, but she swallows the lump as soon as she voices her question.

No, Satoru thinks.

“Maybe,” He hums in response.  “Probably not as hard as you did” He adds, trying to lighten the mood with the memory of her own twentieth birthday.  (y/n) lets out a small sound that was meant to be a hum, but it sounds choked, like someone has a hand around her throat, strangling her pipes until she had no more voice left.

She stares at the cigarette in her fingers, her eyes hard, desperate to stay dry, but this leaves them without emotion.

“I didn’t think today would be this hard,” She admits.  “I thought I…” 

Satoru watches her carefully, his eyes darting from her hidden face to the cigarette that was trembling in her delicate hold.  As if the day alone wasn’t hard enough, his heart breaks over her further.  Being the strongest didn’t mean shit at this moment.  There wasn’t a damn thing he could do to ease this pain for her, but fuck, if he could take it all away, and carry it for her himself, he would.  

“I thought I’d already cried as much as I could over him,” Her words wobble, thanks to her burning throat and quivering lips.  “But I… I just…” 

She shakes her head, a humorless laugh escaping her throat in one harsh sob.  It sounds exactly how she feels.  Angry, forlorn, exasperated.

“Satoru,” 

She turns to him, finally.  The stumpy little cigarette falls from her shaking hands as she moves quickly.  As if his heart wasn’t hurting enough, now he sees the tears streaming down her face.

How long had she been out here crying? He worries.  How long had she been carrying this alone?

Before she can continue he’s surging forward.  Both hands raising to her face in order to make quick work at drying her tears.  It’s no use, they won’t stop flooding and he knows it too, but still, he wipes them away with diligent, loving thumbs.

“I can’t bear this,” She mumbles, watery eyes flickering between his.  

It’s a damn vulnerable thing to admit, and maybe tomorrow she’ll regret this moment of fragile exposure, but right now all she feels is a weight on her chest, pressing harder and harder until it’s left a gaping wound, and she’s so desperate for relief from this pain that she brings her walls down.  Even if it means she takes them down completely.

“It hurts too much,” She continues in a strained whimper.  “I don’t want to miss him anymore, I don’t want to think about him anymore,” 

Satoru’s brows fall to furrow together as she makes her pained confession, and if it wasn’t for the way she spoke, he could see it on her.  In the way her body shook as she cried, her hurt seeped out of every orifice, until she was made nearly unrecognizable.

Since Geto Suguru’s defection, she’d done a bang up job keeping her feelings on the matter to herself.  Minus the day he left them, she’d barely even spoken a word about it, and in fact, she hadn’t talked about him at all.  Until this very moment.  It appeared that she’d kept it packed up so deep inside that today was the last straw, the final blow to her unprocessed grief.  Denial was a wonderful thing, but it could only do the trick for so long.

Satoru cradles her face with the gentleness of feathers on her skin.  He doesn’t say a word, there’s not enough words in the world to bring an ounce of comfort to her now.  Nothing could fix the situation, believe him, he’s tried to find the miracle cure.  But this disease that was their shared trauma, their haunted past, was terminal.

So instead he sits quietly with her.  He brushes away her tears with the pads of his thumbs, over and over again, and he’s bound to this very spot to continue to do so until it’s enough.  Until he’s enough to carry all of her sorrow, all of her strife, and anything else.

Satoru’s throat begins to burn the longer he watches her fall apart at the seams before him.  This wasn’t the first time he’s seen her at her lowest, he’d been there once or twice before to try to pick up her pieces, and hold her gently together until she feels whole again.  But it doesn’t matter if he’d done this a thousand times before, it always feels unfamiliar, and it always wounds him.

He tries his hardest to push down the feeling, to be present as the strength that she needs of him.  But tonight is different than the other times he’s calmed and comforted her.

A shaky exhale escapes him, and the movements of his thumbs on her cheeks grow rushed, and erratic.

“Oh sweetheart,” Satoru means to speak in a murmur, but his voice wavers as much as his breath.  It’s littered with an emotion that makes (y/n’s) stomach churn and knot.  “You know I hate seeing you cry” 

His eyes follow the constant flow of tears as he prods carefully to wipe them away.  His heart weighs heavy in his chest, sinking all the way to his stomach.

Slowly, (y/n) inches forward, her eyes flickering between his for a moment, before her hands rest on his shoulders and she leans in to embrace him.  It’s stiff at first, as if they were unfamiliar with hugging one another.  But she sinks into him after adjusting, and wraps her arms around his neck completely while holding on tight.

His own arms encircle her waist, before resting cheek atop her head.

“I wish I could just hate him,” She mumbles into his shoulder, the fabric of his tee shirt growing wet with her tears pooling into it.  “It would make it easier” 

Satoru nods.  One of his hands pressed flat against her back as he started to move it in soothing circles.

They sit quietly for a few minutes, until her crying has calmed enough that she’s not shaking anymore, and his eyes have fallen shut with fatigue whilst he’s holding her close and rubbing her back.

“D’you want to go inside?” Satoru hums, tilting his head to press her lips into her hair.  “Get some rest?” 

She doesn’t answer him right away.  Not in words, at least.  Her arms tighten around him in the slightest, tensing up as she makes sure her hold on him is firm.

“No,” She whispers, followed by another squeeze, and this time he feels the pads of her fingertips pressing into the material of his shirt, against his skin.  “I want to stay here a little longer,” She admits while she pushes her face into the crook of his neck.  “If that’s okay?” She asks in a smaller voice.

“Of course that’s okay,” Satoru agrees, his free hand reaching up to cup the back of her head.  He gently pets her hair as she settles back into him again.  Best case scenario, she’ll fall asleep, and he can tuck her into bed and hope that the rest brings her more comfort than he’s capable of.  “Whatever you want, sweetheart,” His lips graze over her head as he murmurs, “Just let me know.  I’ll do whatever you need.  I’ll get you whatever you need.  Just tell me” 

Again, her hold stiffens on him, and she’s got him so snug in her arms now that breaking away would prove to be difficult.  Strongest be damned.  No hold on Gojo Satoru has ever been more binding.

And then she’s pulling away.  Her arms loosen and slide away, only for her hands to find purchase at his forearms, tethering herself to him with a gentle grip.  Even still, this has him locked to her, chained, bound.  

He lifts his head to look at her properly, meeting her wide, panicked eyes.  There’s a few tears left, clinging where they could.  They hide in plain sight at the corners of her eyes and on her cheeks.  Satoru has the thought to clear them away, but her hands begin to shake as she clings to his arms, and he doesn’t have the heart to pull himself from her grip.

No hold on Gojo Satoru has ever been more binding.

“Then I need you to promise me something,” She speaks with urgency, although he could already see the fright in her eyes.  He doesn’t get a chance to nod in agreement before she’s speaking again.  “You can’t ever go” 

Satoru blinks, taken aback by the request.  He’s quick to reassure her with a small chuckle, not out of humor, but from the irony that she feels the need to ask such a thing.

“Of course I won’t-” 

“I’m serious,” She speaks over him, eyes unblinking as she moves her hands to clutch onto his shoulders.  Her hold is softer now, but it carries the same weight.  “Please, promise me,” She whispers.  “Promise you won’t go anywhere,” 

She sucks in a breath as she fights more tears from pooling in her eyes.

“Promise me I won’t ever lose you, too,” 

Satoru’s brows pinch together as he nods back at her in a small motion.  With his arms free, he cups her face in his hands again, tilting her head forward so he could seal his promise with his lips pressed against the crown of her head.

He lingers there for a second, before kissing her in the middle of her forehead once more and leaning away so he could look at her.

“I just can’t-” She tries to speak but her tears are choking her up again.  “I can’t lose you, okay?”

He’s nodding at her, his expression gravely serious as he agrees to her terms.

“I’m not going anywhere, sweetheart,” Satoru tucks a loose strand of hair carefully behind her ear before continuing.  “You’ll never lose me,” He gives her a sweet, comforting smile before he’s cupping her face again, fingers splayed across her cheeks, catching the last of her tears and drying them off.  “I need ya too much, yaknow?” 

A faint smile quirks at the corners of her lips, her eyes filling with relief, and something bashful.  He can feel it in the warmth of her face.

Softly, she murmurs, “I need you, too,” 

It’s a difficult thing to say out loud, there’s more weight to those words than she thought there would be, but it’s the truth, and she needs him to know it.  She needs him to know that while there’s still things she can’t bring herself to admit, at the end of the day he had her complete trust.  And right now, that seems more important.

“I…” Her voice gets caught in her throat, but this time it’s not because of the burn of tears.  She swallows hard anyways, and musters up the courage to continue.  “I don’t know what I’d do without you, ‘toru” 

His smile grows warm and syrupy.  It might not have been the confession he was holding out for, but it still made something fluttery and ticklish dance around his inside.  His heart swells.  His eyelashes grow heavy.

“Miss me, hopefully” He murmurs, gently pinching her cheek between his thumb and index finger, then smoothing over the skin with the pad of his thumb.

Her mood is significantly lifted by his familiar and affectionate teasing.  Her pain still lurks around the corner, but right now her back is turned, and all she can see are his bright eyes and tender smile.  All she knows is that his hands are warm against her face, and it turns her to putty having him this close.

Her head tilts to the side, cheek pressing further into the comforting warmth of his hand.  He regards her with a fondness so intense it almost makes her nervous.  Sometimes she had to re-learn how to get used to this look.

“Then…” Her voice is merely a breath.  “Stay” 

He’s smiling again, even though he knows she’s not asking him to spend the night in the spare room- which he’d already done five days out of this week without being invited, he didn’t need an invitation to crash there, he just did- but asking him to stay here, with her.  He shouldn’t be smiling, he shouldn’t feel that skip in his heart beat as he preens with pride and adoration.  Because the last time he’d stayed with her, it had been too hard.

It was too domestic.  Too intimate.  And all too difficult to pretend that it was normal, or casual.  The feelings that she plants in him blossom like uncontrollable wildflowers, and Satoru had realized he was far too weak to ever put himself through it again.  He cared about her too deeply to jeopardize it all over a shared bed.  Maybe it was childish of him, but he’d sworn he wouldn’t do it again.  When she’d made it so clear where they stood with one another, it wasn’t fair to her to gaze at her long after she'd fallen asleep in his arms and ache for more.

But Satoru is a fool.

He’s carefully helping her back through the window while she holds the cupcake in one hand and his in the other.  Before he heads to the spare room- where he has left quite a few drawers worth of extra clothes- he gives her hand a squeeze.  A silent promise that he’ll be quick.  She leaves the cupcake on her bedside table while she sits at the edge of her mattress and waits.  He is very quick, back in her room after barely two minutes have gone by.  When he closes the door, he does so as silently as possible.  When he sits beside her, his movements are slow, almost calculated with how carefully he moves.

“We should eat this cupcake,” She tells him, her eyes focused on the treat with an unreadable emotion behind them.  “It would be a shame… if it went to waste” 

He lets out a chuckle, which has her attention shifting to him.

“I couldn’t agree more” He says with a wide grin.

Her brow furrows.

“Were you just waiting for me to-” 

“Yes, yeah I was, hand it over”

He’s already reaching across her to snatch the plate off of the table.  There’s a plastic knife residing beside the cupcake, and after carefully peeling off the paper wrapper, Satoru cuts the cake down the middle as evenly as he could.  (y/n) almost laughs at his eagerness to eat the treat.  She supposes she could have let him have the whole thing if he was so eager for it, but he’s already handing her a half, and it does look delicious.

When she’d wandered into the bakery earlier that afternoon, before the Fushiguro kids were out of school, she hadn’t really planned on picking out a dessert to celebrate the birthday of someone she was trying to forget.  She wasn’t really sure what had wound her up in there, she hadn’t held a particular craving for any of the sugary sweets on display.  Then she’d seen that cupcake in the glass case, and as soon as her eyes had landed on it, she found herself getting in line to order it.  All the while telling herself this was silly, that he didn’t even have a sweet tooth, and this wasn’t at all what she would have gotten to celebrate his day had he been here.

But he wasn’t here.  And (y/n) was taking the small box home to sit on her counter where it could taunt her for the rest of the day, until she;d given in and plated the damn thing.

Now she stares at her half of it, held carefully in her fingertips.  The frosting felt heavy atop the small piece of cake, and she’s reminded that she actually doesn’t really care for cupcakes.  They were awkward, especially ones like these, where it was impossible to take a bite without getting cream smeared on your face.

She really shouldn’t have bought this.

“Well, that was the most delicious thing I’ve ever eaten” 

Satoru snaps her out of her thoughts, her head snapping towards him in a jerky movement, as if she’d forgotten he was sitting beside her.  He’s got the pad of his middle finger between pursed lips, happily sucking off the last of the sugary sweetness.  He grins at her surprise.  (y/n) looks back at her own piece, and finally, carefully takes a bite.

It’s all vanilla and sugar.  From the cake to the frosting and sprinkles, the tiny dessert is packed with sweetness.  Even after one bite she’s certain that half of the cupcake was plenty, and she never would have eaten the whole thing on her own.  Although she’s sure Satoru would have finished the whole thing without a complaint.

Just as she’d thought, when she finishes her piece, she can feel the remnants of frosting clinging to her lip.  With a crinkled nose she wipes at it with her thumb, before turning to Satoru.

“Did I get it all?” She asks.  He chuckles as he shakes his head, amused by the smear of white over her cupid’s bow.  However before she can blindly rub it away some more, he’s leaning forward.  His fingers hook under her chin while his thumb craftily swipes over her upper lip, making sure to get the last of the offending frosting.

It’s not much, and really had she rubbed her mouth again she would have easily cleared away the rest of it, but he couldn’t resist, and he was acting without thinking.

“There ya go” He hums, his voice quieter than he meant it to be, before he’s sticking his thumb in his mouth to enjoy the last of her vanilla frosting as well.

(y/n) blinks, her eyes wide but the rest of her expression blank.  She figures she should thank him, maybe even make a joke to play off the strangely intimate act that has her heart doing somersaults in her chest, but she can’t bring herself to say anything.

Without a word, she stands from the bed, placing the plate with the wrapper and plasticware back on her nightstand.  Satoru takes his time getting settled under her covers, against her pillows.  When she climbs in after him, she’s still quiet.  She tucks the blanket up close to her chin, and then glances up to him, finding his eyes already on her.

They’re not touching, but he’s close enough that she can feel his heat under the shared blankets.  He’s close enough that she’s glad it’s dark in the room, because her face feels warm with the familiar sensation of a blush.

Four years of knowing him, and his close proximity still garnered the same reaction out of her.  She wondered if he knew she was blushing anyways, if his Six Eyes were always able to see right through her.

“Can I ask you something?” She murmurs, although her eyes are feeling too heavy to start a conversation right now.

He gives her a small smirk and a raised brow, intrigued by the age old anxiety-inducing question.

“Shoot” He muses back.

“How do you do it?” (y/n’s) hand slides under her pillow, raising her head just enough to get a proper look at him.  He looks puzzled, like he doesn’t understand the question, so she clarifies.  “You know, have the answer for everything,” She says.  “I feel like I… I feel like I bombard you with problem after problem and you just…” 

She trails off, and if she was being honest it’s because she’s getting lost in his eyes and forgetting momentarily what she was even talking about.  There were times when she looked at him that while he looked back, she got the overwhelming sense of his complete attention.  And sometimes, it made her heart stutter.  Occasionally her voice would deceive her, too.  She wants to move in closer, until she’s so impossibly too close, but she snaps back to reality just as her mind had started to drift off.

“You just always know what to do.  Or say” She finishes her thought in a hushed whisper.  Maybe it was her train of thought turning hazy from the adoration seeping in, but she suddenly feels like it was a confidential thing to say, too full of emotion to put out in the open so brazenly.

Satoru chuckles, and it relieves some of the tension that’s curling up in her chest.

“It’s cute that you think that,” He replies.  “That’s just what we do, though, isn’t it?” 

Now it’s her turn to furrow her eyebrows, not understanding what he’s trying to say.

Satoru gives her a small shrug.

“We look out for each other,” He states.  “Right?” 

“I ‘spose” (y/n) mumbles back, feeling severely gutted by the realization that he looked out for her more than she did for him.  How do you have the back of someone who’s already the strongest in the world? How could she possibly be as good to him as he was to her? 

It dawns on her then that she can’t, that she could never be a semblance of a person he deserved to have in his life.  Not just due to his strength and status, but because of who Gojo Satoru was as a human.  He was far too good, too kind and caring and patient for the likes of her to be involved with him.  She was messy, at times reckless, and most of all she lived too much in her own head.  Overthinking every situation, and every word, most days it felt like it took her ages just to find the right way to respond, to find the right words, make the right face.

Like right now.

“You don’t think so?” Satoru asks, readjusting his pillow so he too could get a better look at her.  Her lips twitch into an awkward smile, nervous that he was able to read her so easily.  “What’re you thinkin’ about?”

But how was she supposed to tell him? While she lays here and feels regret and guilt flood through her bloodstream like poison, how does she explain to him that she finally understood why she’d pushed him away all those months ago when he’d tried to make something more of the two of them? Just the thought has her skin crawling with goosebumps, and her heart thumping hard in her chest with adrenaline.

“C’mon, tell me” He prods again, this time giving her a smile, too curious to know what was knotting up her pretty features with an upset expression.  Something clearly bothered her about his statement- or at least, it was clear to him.

Her mouth opens, but even still she struggles to find the right thing to say.  No set of words in her language seemed like a good enough explanation.  Or maybe she just didn’t want to admit what had been on her mind.  Because admitting it would prove to him that it had been on her mind.

“I…” Her throat feels dry.  The fingers under her pillow curl into the sheets tightly.  “I don’t think it’s fair of me to ask you to stay,” She confesses in a small voice.  Satoru’s face falls.  “I don’t think it’s fair of me to make you promise,” 

He lifts his head from the pillow, bracing himself up on his arm as he looks down at her with an expression that was somewhere between concern and peculiarity.

Holding onto her last scrap of courage, (y/n) continues.

“You’re destined for such magnificent things,” She murmurs, a ghost of a smile on her face.  “And you’re the strongest but- but it’s not just because of that.  You were always going to be destined for great things, because… because you’re you,” 

She pauses, taking in a small breath and fighting the urge to look away from him, to spare herself from the eyes that were piercing into hers with ardent focus.

“And I… I’m just…” Her lip gets dragged between her teeth as she shakes her head in a slow movement.  “You were born deserving so, so much more than…” In a lazy gesture, her free hand waves above her, fingers twitching in small motions.  She doesn’t say me, but he knows it’s what she’s trying to convey.

“Don’t say that” He mumbles, offended that she could even think such an untrue, vulgar thing about herself, about the person he cares so much more about than she gave him credit for.

“It’s true,” She says back.  “You could be doing so much more amazing things with your life, you could have anything in the world if you wanted it, but instead you’re- you’re here,” Her voice grows smaller as she speaks, the dread of what she needed to say next weighing heavy on her tongue.  “And I… I know I shouldn’t be making you promise to stay.  I should be making you go,” 

She swallows hard, trying to get the lump in her throat to smooth away, but it lingers there, and makes her breath hitch as she closes her eyes before continuing.

“But I just can’t bring myself to do it” 

She can’t see him, but Satoru’s shaking his head at her, refusing to accept any of the nonsense she’s telling him right now.

“Then don’t,” He says, his words rushed, desperate to make himself clear before actually thinking through what the right thing to say was.  “You don’t have to.  I don’t want you to,” 

She’s refusing to look at him, so with his free hand, he cups her face, and he waits until she does.  Her eyes are glossy, but she’s fighting the need to cry again.

“You understand me, sweetheart?” He murmurs, his voice softening as he gazes down at her.  The snow-white tips of his hair almost touch her forehead with how close he’s leaning.  “I don’t want to go anywhere, I don’t want to be anywhere else, with anyone else, even right now, okay?” 

She presses her lips together in an attempt to hide her wince.

“Tell me you understand,” He whispers, eyes flickering between hers.  “I need to know that you understand” 

A small sniffle, and then a nod.

“I understand,” Her voice cracks even in her whisper.  “I just-” 

“No more of that,” He murmurs, his gentle thumb tracing her cheekbone in slow, lazy movements.  “No more of that, I can’t stand it.  You can’t push me away.  Not again.  Not ever again” He’s shaking his head to punctuate every word.

A single tear drips from her eye as she blinks, and he’s quick to wipe it away, just as he had earlier, desperate to make all of her tears disappear in any way he can, anyway she needs.

This wasn’t the first time she’d done this, but it gutted him all the same, recalling the last time she’d tried to force him away.  She’d nearly gone and gotten herself killed by the hands of the Zen’in Clan.  And before that was their fight, in the halls of Jujutsu Tech, when she’d told him that she didn’t need him.  He nearly shudders at the memory.  Of course he knew now that she hadn’t meant it, that it was her desperate attempt to keep him from prying into her life where she’d thought he was going to wind up hurt.

Now it was different.  Now it was real.  It was raw ache and fear before him.

“I promised you I’m not going anywhere,” He tells her.  His eyes trailing down to her lips on their own accord.  “I need you to promise me the same,” 

There’s a pause as his words hang between them, and then she gives him a shaky nod.  Her wide eyes don’t leave his, they remain searching, needing to be sure that he means it.  There’s not a bone in her body that tells her otherwise, but she’s so terrified of the fear of losing him that she just needs to be absolutely sure.

“I’m the one being unfair,” Satoru murmurs, his eyes following the movement of his thumb over her cheek.  “I know that, I know that you don’t want more and I overstep anyways because… because I can’t help it” 

There’s a shift in the mood, she can feel it, how it lightens the pressure on her chest before slamming it right back down.

He leans closer, and her breath hitches in her throat at the prospect of him closing every last inch of distance between them.  She should stop him, she should put her hands on his shoulders and push him away until he’s at a safe distance from her again.  But she doesn’t.

She pulls her hand out from under her pillow, and it blindly slides over the sheets until it finds his.  Her movements are slow, almost frightfully so as her fingers slot between his.  She tries to calm her breathing but it’s hard to focus on it and him so she settles for keeping her focus on him.

With her fingers fully tangled with his he squeezes her hand, maybe tighter than he should have, but having her so close is intoxicating, and he just wants to savor it for as long as he can.

(y/n) takes in a deep breath.

“I never said I didn’t want more,” She whispers, peering up at him from beneath heavy lashes.

His heart is beating so quickly he’s certain she can hear it.  It pounds heavily in his ears, almost louder than her hushed whispers.  Was he understanding her right? 

“I was just… afraid” She admits it softly.

Satoru furrows his brow, but his lips curl into a smirk that had her regretting saying anything because she knows he’s about to tease her now.

“Afraid?” He repeats with a small laugh.  “You think I’d ever do anything to hurt you?” 

He’s teasing, but the thought makes him want to throw up.

“Course not,” She shakes her head, before gently pressing her face further into the warmth of his hand.  She hopes it’s an unnoticed movement, but from the way he also applies more pressure in his touch, she thinks otherwise.  “More like I’m afraid of hurting you” 

Satoru laughs louder this time, his face splitting into a delighted smile.  He’s completely amused by the idea, and (y/n) frowns at him.

“You can’t hurt me sweetheart,” He practically purrs, and then he’s leaning closer.  His chest hovers over her close enough that she feels almost caged in by him.  He’s close enough now that the tip of his nose nearly bumps into hers.  “I’m completely untouchable” 

She squeezes his hand with an affectionate roll of her eyes.

“I think you have to actually activate infinity if you want it to work” She murmurs.

It’s quiet again, the two of them smiling at each other fondly, foolishly, both taken away by a deep infatuation that had been repressed for far too long.  It seeps out of them now like an overflow, pouring out in the cracks that were their adoring eyes.

Her free hand reaches up towards his face, fingertips ghosting over the soft ends of his hair that hangs down over her eyes.  She combs her fingers through the silky strands of white before trailing downwards, her touch light and gentle as she traces his forehead, followed by his nose, then cheekbone, down towards his jaw.  Her sleepy gaze observes every drag of her fingers, as though committing it all to memory.

Satoru’s frozen above her, allowing her to explore every inch of his face if she so pleased.  It was a face she’d known for years, but she touches him now like she’s only recently been bestowed the gift of sight.  He’s not sure the last time he’s been touched so gently.  There’s a distant memory of his mother’s hand caressing his cheek, but even in a fond memory the touch is fleeting.

Being touched like this- softly, sweetly, carefully, lovingly- by her, it’s as though she has all the time in the world.

Her fingers fall still over his chin as her eyes flit back up to his.

They meet for a brief moment before his eyes are falling shut and he’s closing the space between them.  As soon as his lips touch hers she’s sliding her hand under his jaw, keeping him perfectly in place as she kisses him back.

His mouth is warm, and still sweet from the cupcake they’d shared, which seems like forever ago.  In fact everything seems to fade away.  The only thing she can feel is his soft lips, his soft hand splayed over her cheek, the soft swipe of his thumb over hers where their hands are still interlocked.

The kiss is experimentally slow at first.  They’re both holding their breath, each half expecting the other to pull away prematurely with remorseful eyes.  Neither do.

They part for a second, only because oxygen becomes a necessity once more.  Satoru smiles down at her when he sees her eyes are still shut, and he can’t help but to lean in and plant one more quick kiss on her lips.  He’s waited this long to get his chance, he might as well steal as many as he could get.

As he lays back on his side of the bed, he moves his hand from her cheek to her waist, gently coaxing her to lay closer, until she’s curled up into his side, one of her legs thrown between his, her head resting in the soft place below his collarbone.  Their conjoined hands rest over his stomach.  He’s still stroking his thumb over hers.  She’s drawn to sleep by nothing but comfort.

“G’night, ‘toru” Her words are mumbled, and a little slurred.

He plants his lips at the crown of her head sweetly.  She drifts to sleep with a faint smile.

“Goodnight, sweetheart” 

___

The next morning she’s lured out of sleep by the smell of bacon.

It smells like a lot of other delicious things, too, but the bacon is what has her peeking open an eye to check the time.  Sure enough, her bed is empty, and it’s mid-morning.

This time when she slips out of the covers to go check out the buffet of breakfast foods Satoru had been whipping up- effectively making an absolute mess of her kitchen- she’s not hungover.  Her head isn’t killing her with such a brutal headache that she couldn’t open her eyes.  As she walks quietly into the kitchen, she’s able to watch as Tsumiki pours pancake batter out of a ladle, carefully making shapes on the griddle.  She leans into the fridge while she watches Satoru talk through his bacon frying process while Megumi sits on his shoulders, leaned over the top of his head, and apparently actually listening to him.

Tsumiki flips a pancake with perfect precision and they all cheer.  Satoru reminds her to add chocolate chips to the bowl of pancake batter once she’s made enough for herself, Megumi, and (y/n).  Because I refuse to eat pancakes without them, he reminds her, even though she doesn’t need it.  He’s spent enough breakfasts with them now for the kids to realize how debilitating his sweet tooth was.

It’s Megumi who first notices (y/n’s) secretly joined them.  With a boyish grin he tugs at Satoru’s hair, who cries out and almost stumbles at the sudden and sharp pain.

The pain is eased when he sees what Megumi was trying to catch his attention for.  (y/n’s) trying to stifle her laughter from behind her hand, but she’s failing.

“Awe, the surprise is ruined now” Satoru frowns.

She drops her hand and shakes her head as she wanders further into the kitchen to see what else this mess had created.  Megumi reaches towards her in a silent ask to be let off of Satoru’s shoulders.  She lifts him up with ease and sets him on the ground.

“It’s not ruined at all,” She says with a smile.  “But if you want to do it all again tomorrow, I’ll pretend I didn’t know” She adds in a tease.

“Yeah! Can we?” Tsumiki asks excitedly.  “I want to make omelets!” 

“No! French toast!” Megumi declares.

The pair break into a fit of bickering, which is quickly silenced by Satoru.

“Hey! You two are ruining this perfect morning!” He barks.  “Stop fighting and we can have both!” 

He doesn’t know how to make omelets, hell, he struggled with the bacon, so he’s hoping he can find a youtube tutorial decent enough to teach a helpless cook like him how to make some.  But his promise does the trick and Megumi and Tsumiki work together to make more pancakes.

“Do you even know how-?” (y/n) begins to question his ability as she eyes the crispy bacon in the pan he’s no longer paying attention to because she’s there now and she somehow looks so pretty first thing in the morning.  Her hair a complete mess, and donning a fluffy robe with bunnies all over it, he thinks it’s the cutest thing ever.

“Sh sh sh,” He hushes with a shake of his head, his hand wrapping around her hip as he pulls her into his side before finally looking back at the bacon.  “Oh, shit” He mutters as he darts to turn off the stove while (y/n) picks up the tongs and plucks the strips off the pan before they start to completely burn.

“Yeah, maybe tomorrow I cook,” She muses, nose wrinkling at the overcooked bacon.  But when she looks up at him again, she smiles happily.  “You and Megumi will be on french toast duty,” She says decidedly.  “I’ll teach Tsumiki how to make omelets” 

His lips curl into a smirk at the simple instruction.

“Little Hex, are you inviting me to stay the night?” 

“Ew!” Megumi grimaces, sticking his tongue out at the obvious flirt.

Tsumiki’s giggling, and starts to make a heart shaped pancake on the griddle, complete with Satoru’s chocolate chips.

(y/n) rolls her eyes, but her cheeks are undeniably warm, pink blossoming across her face.

“Only if Megumi says it’s okay” She replies, tilting her chin up at him teasingly.

Satoru turns the other way to look down at the kid that had a sinister smile on his face.  Jeez, sometimes this kid creeped him out.  How come (y/n’s) golden boy had to be such a goddamn menace?

Apparently she just had a soft spot for menaces.

Satoru meets Megumi’s ruthless stare with narrowed eyes.

“I’ll give you three hundred dollars”

“Satoru!” (y/n) picks up a kitchen towel off the counter to smack his arm with it.  “No bribing the kids!” 

“Fine,” He grumbles, catching the soft weapon mid swing before she could hit him again.  Then he peeks back towards Megumi, and in a slightly quieter voice says, “Four hundred?” 

(y/n) gasps at his blatant disregard for her rules, but before she can scold him again, Megumi gives a firm nod of agreement, and looks over to her.

“He can stay,” He says decidedly, but mutters to himself as he goes back to helping his sister with the pancakes.  “He stays over every other freakin’ night anyways” 

Tsumiki’s giggling as she whispers her own little rumors, much to the boy’s dismay, but he listens anyway.

“I think he’s warmin’ up to me” Satoru grins at (y/n).  She presses her lips together so as not to laugh too hard at the statement.

“You’ve done right by them,” She tells him, something that he’d told her not too long ago.  From the way his grin turns into a soft smile, she has a feeling he remembers.  “And besides, everyone warms up to you eventually” 

“You think you ever will?” He asks, only teasing.

She shrugs a shoulder, humming as though thinking it over.

“Maybe,” She muses, plucking a chocolate chip from the open bag on the counter.  He furrows his brow at the sudden playfulness rather than a real answer.  “We’ll see” 

[ this is a place where i don’t feel alone / this is a place where i feel at home ]

___

a/n: i just want to gush about how much i loved writing this series, and sharing it with you all. it has been my absolute passion project. sorry the slow burn was so slow but i tried to keep it as realistic to the events of the manga and just how things would play out irl. i have a couple other spin-off fics related to this series in the works so i suppose it's not over yet- i just needed more fluff related to these characters that have brought me such comfort and entertainment!! thank you all for your continued support and love for this series (and my other fics too!) having this be so well received warms my heart <3 xoxo ~ jordie

[helloheyhihowdyheya]

Movie Night

Eddie Munson x gn!reader

Masterlist

Summary: Eddie bails on your weekly movie night to go be with Chrissy. So you make plans with Steve OR Two jealous idiots in love :/

Word Count: ~4k

Warnings: Angst/unrequited feelings at first. Jealous!Eddie. Steve's a good friend. Fluff. Bad jokes.

A/n: Been trying to write this one for a bit. I might do a version of this where the reader chooses Steve instead, if there's any interest for it. Thanks as always for reading! Love to hear your thoughts <3

--

“Yeah, I’m heading to the diner tonight. With Chrissy.”

Sometimes, when you thought about your future, you’d imagine a lifetime of laughing side-by-side with Eddie. Imagine his hand clasped in yours, his body an anchor holding you to this place. Yet other times, like now, after he said those words, you feared you’d end up floating away alone.

You only barely caught his eyes on you after telling you the news, not that you were all that present anymore. Not when trying everything to focus on keeping your face neutral. Happy even, for him. 

“Oh, that’s nice,” you said, though your voice probably betrayed any facade you tried to put on. All you could do was look at the way shadows from the dipping sun dragged down his face. Maybe floating away into the golden sky wouldn’t be all that bad.

“So movie night next week, then?” you asked, unfocused eyes drifting over his shoulder and past him.

Your question came out as a precaution, a hope at normalcy to lighten the mood. Just in the entryway of Eddie’s apartment, snacks in hand for tonight’s canceled plans apparently, you were glad you hadn’t taken your shoes off yet. Inching toward the doorknob, you gave a small smile that cracked at the edges.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner,” Eddie offered, and it only made you chew harder on the inside of your cheek, savor the pain of it. Your fingers found the handle’s metal, unsure of what to tell him. He hadn’t ever canceled movie night before, and now it’s for lovely Chrissy. 

She’d sort of joined the group, becoming better friends with Eddie after high school. And you were glad for it – truly, you were. You two had more in common than you’d expected, and she was nicer than anyone you’d ever talked to. So with the nausea of jealousy rising up your throat came bile tasting of guilt, a twisting feeling of shame for wishing she’d had any other plans than with Eddie, your Eddie.

Not that he knew your feelings toward him, which you usually kept tight under wraps. Until this. So you just said, “It’s fine, Eddie. I’ll see you around, ‘kay?” You didn’t wait for an answer or dare risk a glance at his face, just in case it looked happy. 

A rumbling sigh escaped your mouth as you trudged down the building’s stairwell, your feet heavy against the steps and begging to drag you deeper. Each creak accompanied the rustling of the cookies, chips, and more piled in your arms. 

Outside, the honeyed sun dipped through the sky’s thick wall of clouds. It brought a sprinkling of rain that seeped into you on the short walk home. Maybe out of necessity, but you welcomed the chill of the wind that carried goosebumps along your body. Let it freeze your skin, your pestering thoughts, your teary eyes.

Eddie could have other friends. He could spend time with other people. You knew that. And yet, he’d flaked on your plans with no warning. But he could be forgetful sometimes, and maybe they were just friends. And yet… a sharp feeling itched in your chest, one you couldn’t shake.

The back-and-forth plaguing your mind simmered to a dull annoyance as you entered your own place, dropping all the snacks on your counter. You let your hands fall by your sides as you debated finally taking off your shoes, staring at their fraying laces while deciding what to do tonight. The alluring voice of self-pitying called your name, telling you to find some trashy movie on TV or eat the food you should have been sharing with Eddie. 

Stuck standing there, still staring at your shoes as the world continued on outside, your body finally jolted as the phone rang. The shrill noise forced your muscles tight, but that paled in comparison to the jump your heart gave. A small part of you knew it came from the hope that Eddie had changed his mind and was calling to apologize. But you wouldn’t believe it. If you did, that might just hurt worse than anything he could say.

A swallow passed down your throat as you readied your voice, a tightness refusing to go away. Grabbing the receiver, you said, “Hello?”

“Ah, hey. It’s Steve.”

Oh.

“Hi, Steve,” you answered, feeling your fingers tighten around the phone as you forced out an even breath. It was fine. You were fine. This dumb crush couldn’t last forever.

“Just filling my employee duties to remind you to return Alien the next time you’re here. I called to leave a message on your machine though, thought you’d be at Eddie’s tonight.” 

Ouch. Guess tonight wasn’t the night that crush would end then. 

“Uh, yeah,” you breathed out. “He’s busy tonight apparently. So I’m just here. But yeah, of course, I can drop off the tape tomorrow.”

Maybe Steve heard the disappointment in your voice or just was bored and free like you, because he asked, “Oh, well I’m almost done here at Family Video if you wanna swing by. Haven’t had dinner yet if you’re hungry. We could head down to the diner.”

“No! No, I’m okay,” you rushed out, feeling a chill spark through your body and up your spine. You didn’t need to witness Eddie and Chrissy dining together tonight. 

Eyeing the snacks and your small TV, you debated whether to take him up on the offer. The weight of your unreturned feelings pulled at your tired mind, but maybe taking Steve’s offering hand could be a way back up.

Though he couldn’t see, you nodded as you shifted your weight back and forth. “But I’m okay going somewhere else. If you want.”

A small pause passed before he answered. “We could go to the theater. Been meaning to see that comedy… Spaceballs, I think.”

The smile beginning to spread across your face warmed your body, loosened the cold holding on tight to you. A stupid comedy with Steve’s terrible jokes sounded like a distraction you needed. “Sounds great. I’ll head to Family Video now.”

“Wait, stay there. It looks like it might rain. I’ll come pick you up,” he said, and you imagined his hand on his hip in that way he did.

“Okay,” you said. “See you soon.”

Trying not to dwell on thoughts of Eddie while waiting for the sound of Steve’s car, you paced back and forth through the room – shoes still on your feet. Eddie had his plans, you had yours. And that was okay. Right?

Rather than answering that question, you grabbed a handful from the pile of snacks and shoved them in your pocket before making your way to the front of the building. Maybe the universe was actually on your side because you didn’t wait long before spotting Steve’s car under the dark sky and dripping rain.

But as you jogged over and began to climb in, Steve shouted, “Ah! Wait, wait, wait!” He held out an arm before you could lean back against the seat, the car door still wide open.

“What? What is it, Harrington?” You asked through clenched teeth, your body growing colder by the second as drops continued to hit down your body.

He dug through the bag he brought to work, pulling out a jacket and handing it to you. “Here. Don’t need you freezing, or getting the seats soaked.”

Glaring at him, you knew the quickest way to get this over with was to wrap the jacket around your shoulders and shut the car door. Your fingers dug into the material, hoping to keep yourself from shivering. 

“I’m starting to think you care more about your car than… well, anyone,” you muttered with a joking smile, though you couldn’t be too upset with the soft heat rolling from the car’s vents.

Steve only offered a confirmatory hum before putting the car into drive, heading toward the theater through watery roads. The street lights turning on stretched and became fuzzy past the rain-soaked windshield.

Less than a minute passed of soft drumming on the car’s roof and the quiet radio before Steve asked the question you’d been hoping to avoid. “So, uh, if Eddie’s not at your weekly movie night, what’s he up to?”

Your head turned toward the window, resting back against the seat. A sigh loosened past your lips, slowly growing into flat words. “He’s with Chrissy.”

“Ah,” was all he said. He wasn’t a stranger to your feelings for Eddie – not that you had been brave enough to tell Steve yourself. Apparently, you weren’t as good at hiding them as you thought, and he finally confronted you after the whole group hung out. You’d been “staring at him like he was freaking Rob Lowe” as Steve had put it.

He’d told you that Eddie had done the same, and you’d wanted to believe it. You did for a short while. But holding onto that seemed to just make things hurt more when he brushed you off, so you let it go. Or at least tried to.

“They’re at the diner, huh?” Steve asked, one hand holding the wheel and one combing through his hair.

If you weren’t clenching your jaw to keep from emotion rising up your throat, you might’ve laughed and cursed him for always seeing through you. But you just nodded instead, pressing your mouth tight.

Steve shrugged, giving you a sympathetic sideways look. “I know you’re gonna huff or sigh at me, but I still think you should tell him… Can’t blame him for not knowing, since both of you are equally oblivious.”

And you did sigh at that, knowing he was right. “Yeah…” Crossing your arms, you stared out the window at the world passing by until he spoke up again.

“Either way, screw ‘em. They’re missing out on Spaceballs and incredible company,” he offered, leaving no room for disagreement.

That got you to crack a growing smile again. “Are you talking about me or yourself?” you laughed out.

“That depends on who makes the funniest joke during the movie, so start preparing.”

Your brain automatically went to what kinds of jokes Eddie would make during the movie, his mouth barely shutting before making some comment that left you breathless laughing. But you shook your head, focusing on anything else.

You rolled your eyes as you answered Steve. “I think we have a different definition of funny though. Because yours always suck.”

He glanced toward you from the corner of his eye. “You know, maybe you should actually walk to the theater. Car’s feeling a bit cramped.”

Steve began to reach toward your door handle, but you slapped his hand away as you belly laughed. “See, I was going to share my bag of Skittles with you. But now? Not so sure…”

His hand reeled back to his side in an instant. Through a smile, he said, “Fine. You drive a hard bargain.”

The car pulled into the theater’s parking lot before you knew it. Your hand gripped the door handle, forcing your shoulders to relax and your jaw to unclench. Leave it all behind.

You took out your wallet as you entered the building, the jacket still around your shoulders, and asked for two tickets.

But Steve held out a hand, saying, “Come on, not letting you buy my ticket tonight.”

Letting out a long sigh, you shrugged like all you felt was indifference. But you were glad to turn back to the employee so Steve couldn’t see the disappointment on your face. Tonight, because you’d been left at Eddie’s doorstep with no plans. 

But as you had tried and failed to do all evening, you really did forget about Eddie during the movie. You covered your mouth to keep from laughing too hard and ate way too much popcorn, pushing Steve away when he whispered much too loud his terrible jokes. It all passed in a blur, leaving you feeling lighter than before as you finally walked out into the night air.

Tilting your head, you stared up into the sky now free from any clouds. Stars dotted all across the darkness, creating freckles along the universe. The rain had stopped, but you still held the jacket around your body. You shut your eyes for a second, taking a slow breath.

“I think the system jamming with raspberry jam had to be the punniest joke in the whole movie,” Steve joked, breaking you from the quiet moment.

“That was horrible.” You rolled your eyes, unable to stop from laughing regardless. It echoed into the night, all the way to the van coming from down the road.

Any effort to forget about Eddie disappeared as the all too familiar rumbling engine grew louder. The smile that had been still stuck on your face began to drop at seeing Eddie’s van drive toward you and Steve. Instead, a rising rigidness made its way through your body. 

Your steps stuttered for a moment, making Steve stop as well to wait for the van to pull alongside you. You steeled yourself to see Chrissy in the front seat, pretty smile and all right next to Eddie. But as the brakes screeched to a halt, you saw through the rolled-down window that he was alone.

“Hey, where’ve you been? I called your place,” Eddie asked, his jacket-covered arm hanging out of the van. His words sounded strained, but not quite accusatory. His eyes flicked between the two of you, and you tried to remember when you’d seen him this off.

Clutching your hands together, hoping the pressure would somehow ground you (or pull you into the ground), you said, “Uh, we, um, went to the theater. Thought you were busy for the night...” You trailed off, and the air around you three seemed to stretch thin, threatening to shatter and fall to your feet.

“We saw Spaceballs. ‘S pretty good,” Steve added, and that joking tone he had just minutes ago seemed to have disappeared. Still, you were glad for his attempt at keeping things light.

Not that it seemed to work because Eddie then let out a scoff. “Yeah, I’m sure you really appreciated all those Star Trek references.”

“Hey, I’ve seen Star Trek, Munson. I think we all know why Han Solo’s so popular, okay?” Steve told him while running a hand through his hair. 

As you tried to keep your laughing in, you asked, “Are you saying you look like the hit Star Trek character Han Solo?”

And you hated the way your chest bloomed at the sudden laugh Eddie let out, being the one that made him make the sound you loved so much.

While Steve looked at the two of you with eyebrows scrunched, Eddie rested his chin on his hands sat along the window’s edge. He looked lovelier than you’d ever admit. “So… do you need a ride home?”

His eyes never left you, bringing a heat to your cheeks with their intensity. “Uh…” you began.

“I’d already offered a ride,” Steve answered.

Eddie pursed his lips for a second, tilting his head. “But my apartment’s closer, so it’s really no big deal.” 

They both looked to you, expectant looks on their faces as if you held all the answers. And despite everything that’d happened, you couldn’t stop the pull of being with Eddie, the chance to be with him that your body never passed up.

You turned between looking at Steve, then Eddie, and back to Steve again. “Yeah, I can go with Eddie. You’ve done plenty tonight.”

“You sure?” Steve whispered, leaning closer so only you could hear. Giving you an out. But you could do this, and it did make more sense logistically. You were just being efficient really.

You nodded, offering a soft smile. Grabbing his jacket from your shoulders, you handed it back to him. “Thank you again, for everything,” you said before walking to the other side of the van. “Oh, and Harrington? Han Solo’s in Star Wars, not Star Trek.” Your laugh carried out as you said your goodbye, reveling in Steve’s groan that followed.

Though it quickly died down once you shut the van’s door behind you, the loud bang nearly breaking any confidence you thought you might’ve had up until now. Eddie just put it into drive, the van jolting forward. 

The silence wrapping around you both squeezed tight, snaking around your bodies until you thought you couldn’t take it any longer.

“So, where’s Chrissy?”

Well, that was one way to break the silence. At least you ripped the bandage off, prepared to deal with the hurt that followed. Your leg began to shake up and down at the pause, steeling yourself for the worst.

You caught his eyes glancing toward you for a moment before answering. “She drove home. Didn’t stay too long.”

Unsure of how to answer, you just nodded. Only a few drawn-out seconds passed before he continued, “Called your place after to see if you still wanted that movie night.”

Your face twisted as the different emotions flowing through you turned your expression sour. He thought of you, worried about you. But you were still his second choice plans after his dinner fell short.

“Yeah, Steve didn’t have plans tonight and offered to go see a movie,” you said, giving no further explanation.

“Yeah, put that together,” he said, letting a strained pause pass before asking, “Did you like it?”

“It was pretty funny, I think you’d like it. Especially the Star Trek references.” You gave a little laugh, passing a hard swallow down your throat. Talking with Eddie wasn’t supposed to feel like this, not with him. And yet, the next words he spoke sent your body into overdrive.

“Even with The Hair and his jacket?”

Your arms curled in, your legs hugging closer to yourself as you turned just a bit away from him. Where was this coming from?

With a hard stare ahead and a tone sharper than you intended, you said, “Yes…? Even with Steve.” At that, Eddie let out a condescending scoff, making you finally turn toward him. “And was dinner good? Even with The Queen of Hawkins High?”

The words felt bitter dripping off your tongue, unnatural and sparked by Eddie’s own prodding. Both Steve and Chrissy were friends, and they didn’t deserve this talk. But god, how could he be so infuriating right now? 

“Uh yeah, and I’m sure we had a million more interesting things to talk about than hairspray or whatever Harrington cares about,” Eddie muttered, not taking his eyes off the road.

Your hands clenched, your nails digging into the skin of your palms. You welcomed the biting pain. “Eddie, what are you talking about? I thought you and Steve were friends now. And… and at least he made plans with me and stuck to them, alright?”

As your apartment neared, the van fell into a charged silence. Your heartbeat sounded in your ears, drumming the rapid pulse into your head. Inching toward the door, your hand readied to leave the second this vehicle stopped. Maybe a future of floating away was better than one with an anchor that threatened to cut you loose at any second.

The brakes screeched into the air, accompanying Eddie’s soft voice that stopped you from leaving. “Wait.” He shifted the van into park and rested his head against the steering wheel, letting out a strained sigh. “I’m sorry.”

Seconds from asking what he meant, even maybe whispering an apology as well for the comment about Chrissy, you were cut off by a question that sharpened your body to an edge. “Can I be honest with you? And please promise to not completely and absolutely hate me.”

You rolled your eyes at him, your jaw ticking. “I’m not going to hate you, Eddie. Even if you are acting like this right now.”

Running a hand back through his hair, Eddie fidgeted with the rings on his hand as he thought about his words. “You know how we all hung out as a group last week and Chrissy forgot her jacket? Well, that’s really what today was. Returning her jacket and getting coffee. That’s all… but I made it sound worse so you’d, um…”

You raised an eyebrow at him. “So I’d what?”

“So you’d get jealous,” he rushed out, rubbing a palm down his face. “I’m sorry. I thought, for some idiotic reason, that it might make you jealous and confess your feelings. And now…”

He paused, letting out a sigh that turned into a sad, sort of disbelieving laugh as he reached behind his seat. He pulled out some store-bought and slightly crumpled flowers. “And now I’m confessing my feelings after sending you to another man and making myself jealous. And I’m apologizing for being stupid.”

At that, you laughed too. Actually giggled from deep inside. He liked you. You grabbed the flowers, brushing a finger over the orange, red, and yellow petals of the bouquet. “Eddie, that might be one of your worst ideas. Did Dustin suggest it?” you asked, leaning your face in to smell the flowers and hiding the heat rising to your cheeks.

“See! I knew it was terrible. That’s the last time I let Henderson give me dating advice,” Eddie confessed, collapsing dramatically back into his seat.

You just watched him, shaking your head. “Well, I can’t say I disagree with that… I would’ve loved to have movie night with you. Though, it’s not like I was any more forward about confessing my feelings.”

Eddie’s eyes returned to yours, the soft brown of them reaching out to wrap you in a warmth you’d missed. Tentatively, as if one word too loud would break everything, he asked, “And what exactly are your feelings?”

You tilted your head as you stared at him, unable to keep a smile from spreading. “I definitely don’t hate you. And maybe I was a little jealous of Chrissy.”

Eddie sprang forward, a wide grin on his face as he grabbed your hands. “So that’s a yes…that you like me too? Is that a yes? Sweetheart, please tell me that’s a yes,” he begged, inching closer.

Who were you to tell him no? Against his skin, your noses brushing together now, you whispered, “Yes, Eddie.”

Instantly, he pressed his lips against your cheek. And then your forehead. Then your nose. You laughed, your body shaking as he continued his lovely assault. 

He spoke between kisses. “Do you.” Kiss. “Want to.” Kiss. “Have.” Kiss. “Movie night?”

Pulling away, he watched your face. “You pick any movie, I’ll go find it. Let me try this night again, the right way,” he breathed out. His eyes glanced down at your mouth before flicking back up from under those long eyelashes.

Nodding, nearly giddy, you agreed. “Of course.”

And you couldn’t stop smiling, not when he pressed his lips to yours and made your head spin in the most addictive way. Against your mouth, Eddie whispered, “It’s going to be better than your movie night with Steve, right?”

The genuine, almost naked look he gave you nearly stopped your laugh from escaping. Nearly. “Eddie, you don’t need to be jealous anymore. You’ve got me.”

“Right?” he repeated, his fingers resting on the peaks of your cheekbones.

Pressing your forehead against his, you reassured him. “Right.”

Only then did his tense shoulders finally relax, his body melding to yours as he kissed you again. And again. And again for good measure.

You didn’t stop smiling then either. Not when pulling him all the way up to your apartment. Not when watching some movie you’d both seen a million times with popcorn sitting on your laps. And not when falling asleep on Eddie’s chest to the rhythm of his heart, silently promising a future of floating away together, hand in hand.

[popironrye]

The Lost Boys

Leisure Headcanons

💋 David 💋

Is a skilled fire arm shooter. (Loves the cowboy aesthetic)

Has his own gun hidden in the cave.

Doesn't get the chance too often, but will ride a horse when the chance arises.

Likes wood carving. Mostly non specific whittling into basic shapes or animals. It helps him relax.

Movie nut! When the boys go the Max's store to fool around, David makes sure to tuck a movie or two that catches his eye in his coat. Tends to watch them alone, all the questions from Paul would just grate on his nerves too much.

I imagine David would be like REALLY good at origami for no particular reason. He doesn't even try, just once the boys do it just because and he's just the best at it.

I don't know if vampires can emerge in water in the lost boys lore, but if they can David loves to swim. Chilling in water clears his mind.

💀 Dwayne 💀

Skater boi! Does a lot of sick tricks, but when you can levitate it's less impressive. XD

Doesn't care for guns, but likes archery. Hammers his own arrow heads. Dwayne and David like to pick a spot in the woods to shoot make shift targets.

A real book worm. Will spend a lot of time just silently reading for hours.

Takes up knitting from time to time. He prefers hand knitted blankets and throws rather then the store ones.

Likes to make jewelry. Made his own necklace.

Enjoys all types of puzzles. Cross word, jigsaw, and brain teasers.

Can sew and offers to sew up holes made in all the clothes the boys decide not to get new ones.

🌿 Paul 🌿

Can play the guitar.

Also likes to sing, and is pretty good at it. Wanted to start a band, but the other boys weren't up for it.

Has the biggest music collection and is always hogging the tabletop/cassette/cd player.

Amateur photography. Just likes to take photos randomly. Some are really artsy.

Got really into tie dye for a while. Although he might have just been high.

When he wants to relax, Paul really likes to stargaze. Laying outside the cave looking at the sky and hearing the waves of the ocean just makes him feel at peace.

When David isn't using the tv monitor, Paul enjoys quite a few video games. He also likes to take on the arcade and carnival games at the boardwalk.

🪶 Marko 🪶

Aside from pigeons, Marko will try to domesticate a number of animals to the cave, including stray dogs, cats, deer, badgers, squirrel, foxes, bats, and even a black bear once.

He in fact did NOT domesticate a black bear, but he did wrestle one.

He does his own patchwork on his jacket.

Like David, he likes to sculpt into wood, but he usually carves patterns and landscapes into more grand pieces.

He's also a skilled painter. Mostly he'll paint murals on sections of the cave David says is ok for him to paint on.

He collects sea shells on the beach.

He'll style the others hair. Especially David who he'll cut and dye in the way he likes best.

🔥Pack Activities🔥

Dart throwing. The bigger the target the better. David and Dwyane are very competitive at this one specifically.

Rollerblading. Put wheels on shoes, what more can you want?

Listening to music. The boys have very wide music tastes and sometimes they cross over and they all like the same stuff. They take turns around the player of their choice to just smoke, drink, and listen to the sounds of the music plays.

Card games. Specifically poker when they're all together. They make things more interesting when they make bets.

And of course motocycle cruising and board walk loitering.

Something that always strikes me with vampires in fiction and indeed with any immortal creature with the high and emotional intelligence of humans. IMMORTALITY IS FUCKING BORING!

I mean, think about it. Imagine you're given all the free time in the world with very little responsibility with no fear of getting sick or tired allowed to do pretty much whatever you want. What would you do? Cause I would go stir crazy. So I came up with these dumb little head canons on how I image the boys specifically would pass the time in their little vampire lives that doesn't revolve around murdering and feeding off of people.

Of course cruising on their bikes come to mind. And there's a couple in the movie we get to see like Dwayne's skateboarding and Marko's fondness for pigeons but I wanted to throw more possibilities out there. :3

[earthstellar]

Earth Music on the Lost Light: Human Music That Cybertronians Like

we know for a fact that the Lost Light has access to human media, primarily movies, TV shows, and music-- and we know they generally seem to fucking love most of it, or at least find it interesting

but what would everyone's tastes be, in regards to Earth music?

time to talk about music for a long time!!! strap in, enjoy some tunes

we already know Cyclonus has impeccable taste and enjoys some of the best jams the 80s had to offer.

I can't help but imagine Rodimus being given a media archive of Earth tunes to approve for the Earth Dance would only result in chaos

(it's not like he would say no to anything, he absolutely blanket signed it all, it's just an obligatory thing-- or Ultra Magnus tells him it is, solely to keep him away from Important Captain Things that he would rather handle himself or hand off to Megatron, lmao. the shit that really needs to get done)

and this is how Rodimus discovers the somewhat questionable yet amazing genre of "mid-90s underground techno rave mix tapes"

(somewhat related, I still think Testarossa might as well be Rodimus' theme song, although it's not a 90s track and has more of an 80s synth vibe)

Rodimus would love that "computers are the future, fuck yeah let's make Digital Cool Future Music" mid-90s shit, there is no way he would not. it has the exact energy level that appeals to him and is also cheesy and weird and chaotic. and has like 500 different sub-genres, so his selection is endless, lmao.

he would probably find it cute that this is what humans imagined to be the peak of "digital sound" at the time. like lmao this was the best humans could do when asked to create music that sounds like it was made by robots or other mechanical space future cyber lifeforms--high concept!!! he would probably find it interesting and endearing. this is what organics think non-organic music is like!!

anyone acting as DJ at Swerve's on any given night would be so, so mad that Rodimus keeps requesting shit like "DJ MASSIMO ITALO DISCO BEST RAVE TUNES LIVE FROM LONDON 1995" or "DJ ARMPIT SLUDGE FEST HOUSE-RAVE-DRUMS N BASS SET 1996" for them to play, lmao

not individual tracks. the whole album. entire mix tapes of random, somewhat questionable mid-90s techno house rave bullshit.

that having been said, that good ass early 90s trance techno might send him into a spiral depending on his mood at the time, lmao (it's been known to happen)

but at the same time I can imagine him sharing tracks like Solar Quest - Space Pirates with Drift and they'd both just sit there and jam out, but quietly, thinking about shit while sitting in a port window next to each other (this was peak sleepover party techno, Back in My Day-- many deep conversations were had while listening to stuff like this, lol)

Drift would probably find some of Rodmus' recommended stuff to be pretty good for meditation-- although once he finds out about the human drug culture involved and certain concepts of experimental consciousness etc. that surrounded techno/rave and other related genres, it might cause him to pull back a little bit

(until he finds out about kandi culture, in which case, Drift would love the idea of hand-made unique bracelets and sentimental trinkets being made and exchanged at warehouse shows purely out of Good Vibes and Love for Fellow Beings and it turns out actually he fucking loves this shit, a chill vibes based "expand your mind" kind of music subculture appeals to his Spectralist sensibilities and he likes sharing tunes with Rodimus in return)

Drift picking tracks on his own would likely lead him down more of a classic rock road, but more of the chill side of things, more of the folksy type of classic rock -- I can see Drift really enjoying Spirit in the Sky - Norman Greenbaum or California Dreamin' - The Mamas and the Papas. or like, Incense and Peppermints - Strawberry Alarm Clock.

I mean, Drift might even go Full Earth Hippie and end up liking Green Tambourine - Lemon Pipers, lmao. in fact I am fairly certain of this.

I can see Drift loving Aquarius/Let The Sunshine In - The 5th Dimension. the whole vibe would probably appeal to him.

he'd quite possibly also like I Need a Dollar - Aloe Blacc, but it hits him in a place that still hurts to think about. so it's in rare rotation.

meanwhile Ratchet would probably be fine with classic rock too, like the good Dad Rock shit, just a lot of tracks from the 70s/80s -- a couple tracks he and Drift could probably agree on would likely lean more into the experimental/psychedelic rock side of things, like White Room - Cream or something like Wheel in the Sky - Journey

Rodimus tries to troll Ratchet by recommending Old Time Rock n Roll - Bob Seger, but joke's on him because it turns out Ratchet loves it, lmao

Swerve would go all out on classic bar jams for the evening playlist. Chill, good shit like Do It Again - Steely Dan.

Megatron would love Sinnerman - Nina Simone; He'd send it to Drift in a command crew level secured data packet, and they would both feel the hell out of this song. They don't need to talk about why. They never mention it to each other.

Megs would also probably love These Old Bones by Dolly Parton (mostly due to the lyrics, rather than the upbeat tune, but he would find it relatively relaxing), as well as 9 to 5 (of course), and similar music. Country from back in the day when country music was more about the struggle of poverty and the working life of rural people. Country music from back when songs told all the untold stories. He can respect that.

He'd listen to You'll Never Leave Harlan Alive by Patty Loveless and it would get him right in the fucking spark. Megatron is the Cybertronian equivalent of an Appalachian miner, god dammit. He understands.

Megatron would also like Johnny Cash; He would overthink Ghost Riders in the Sky and it would depress him, partly because it reminds him of Seekers... sigh.

I think he'd also like Cold War - Janelle Monae. He'd be way into good lyrics; What's being said in a song matters most to him. "This is a cold war, you better know what you're fighting for..." Indeed.

anyway I like thinking about what jams Cybertronians might like from their available selection of Earth tunes

[naughtystiel]

It wasn’t raining.

For some reason whenever Dean thought of this day, he imagined the sky to be covered with heavy dark clouds. Clearly this wasn’t the case. Instead, everything seemed so lively. Spring brought chirping birds, vividly coloured flowers began to bloom and the sun shone brightly high in the sky. The few people gathered around wore light jackets so it really had to be a beautiful day. He wished he could feel the warmth on his skin too.

A priest stood on the opposite end of the deep hole and Dean grimaced. He had never been a religious man and he wasn’t going to listen to anything that was coming out of the priest’s mouth now either. Meandering between people, he walked further away. Yeah, Lord have mercy and rest in peace o’wayward son.

So, where did he go from here?

“Hello.” Somebody said next to him, but Dean didn’t even bother to look. They weren’t talking to him anyway. They couldn’t be. With arms loosely crossed over his chest, he looked skywards. It was a beautiful day.

“Dean?”

Dean looked to the side, an eyebrow raised. A man in his thirties observed him, hands tucked in his dress pants. “How do you know my name? Do I know you?”

The man nodded his chin towards the priest, “Heard him mention a Dean, so I’m guessing that must be you. Nice suit.” He smiled and Dean looked down at his outfit. Suits weren’t exactly his thing, but he didn’t really think to make a will and they shoved him in this. Did they even bury people in plaids? Probably.

“That would be me, indeed.” Dean tilted his head to the side and scanned the graveyard. Interesting. “Are you dead too? I guess you gotta be.”

The man hummed, “Mmm, you could say so.”

Dean furrowed his eyebrows. Was that a yes or a no? “So, is it just you and me or is anybody else here with us?”

“Nah, they moved on.”

“And you?"

“In the process.”

“I see.”

They both stood in silence, watching the ceremony. A few roses got dropped into the hole. A nice gesture, but it was a waste of money. They could at least put it on top once the casket was actually covered with dirt.

Low rumble disrupted the quiet. “How are you feeling?”

Dean splayed his arms and shrugged. “I mean, I’m dead. I don’t really know.”

The man turned his head towards Dean. “Okay, lemme ask you this - what’s on your mind? Anything particular?”

Now that was a good question. Nothing. A lot. First thing that came to mind was that he wouldn’t be able to see that new Indiana Jones movie he was so looking forward to. But that was just stupid, wasn’t it? Shouldn’t he be thinking of his regrets? Unfinished business? “I wish I could feel the sun on my cheeks.”

“Ah, that I can agree with. The sunset kind. Not too sharp, soft like a gentle veil that droops over your face.” The man gave him a small smile and Dean nodded.

“You see that tall guy there? The tallest of them all. My brother. Last time I saw him we argued.” Dean sighed, his shoulders slumping. “I guess it kinda bothers me that this is how he’s gonna remember me now.”

“Probably not. Usually when a person dies you remember the good things. Unless of course the bad outweighed the good which I don’t think is the case here.” The man scuffed the tip of his polished shoe in the dirt. “Grieving is complicated, it messes with your head. I bet you heard about how it usually progresses but personally I think it’s more like jumping back and forth between the steps. It does pass though.”

“That supposed to make me feel better?”

The man shrugged, his dark lock tousled by gentle breeze. He kept his gaze down, chewing on his bottom lip. “Only stating the facts. Anything else bothering you?”

just a snippet of "the art of moving on" which i might work on more in the future. and if i do, it wont be very long but i think itd be worth exploring :)

[averagewriter-inthedark]

Barbie Girl 💄 | Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin Imagine

Takes place before, during, and after the events of Top Gun Maverick

TGM Masterlist

Characters & Pairings: Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x Barbie!reader (romantic), dagger squad (platonic)

Content warnings: light profanity, fluff | female!reader (she/her) | wc: 4.3k

Requested 📨 yes/no (for @kayla-swiftly)

Premise: They say the sky is the limit and anything you set you’re mind to will be achieved as long as you’re dedicated to it. For most people that testimony is nothing but a mere fantasy. But for one woman, with too many dreams to count on her fingers, she took that statement to heart. Proving you can be anyone you want to be and maybe even a few others give or take 😉

Note: Anyone else obsessed with Barbie lately?? Omg y’all I saw the movie last week and absolutely fell in love and i had this request from around the time the final trailer dropped and knew it was the perfect time to write this. I know I know I haven’t been living up to my promise of being consistent but man they having me working my ass off at my job. Also I’ve been traveling and I saw Big Time Rush last night (i felt like a teenager again and it was amazing 😭) anyway I hope you enjoyed this and let me know what you think!

—————————

“Hi, Barbie!” The familiar greeting fills Y/n’s ears as it does every morning she arrives at the hangar. With it comes an instant smile, hand raising to wave at the person responsible for it, “Hi, Phoenix!”

“Hey there, Barbie,” winks another friendly face.

“Hiiii, Hangman,” her tone is playful like his, turning energetic for Bob when he goes, “Hiya, Barbie!”

“Hi there, Bob!”

“Hey, Barbie.” “Good morning, Barbie.” “What’s up, Barbie Girl.”

“Hello, Rooster.” “Good morning to you too, Fanboy.” “Nothing much, Pay. And yourself?”

Unlike her fellow pilots, clad in their deep green flight suits, Y/n stood out in the crowd for hers was a little unorthodox when one thinks of a naval fighter pilot's uniform.

It was pink. Completely as in her combat boots were also the bright color and the patchers were white and pink tones rather than red, blues, black and any other color seen in the ones attached to her coworkers arms. ‘Barbie’ in pink cursive writing instead of traditional bold Times New Roman lettering.

And don’t forget the little flower dotting the ‘i’.

Growing up, Y/n took ‘you can be anyone and anything you want to be,’ quite literally. At no point was it a joke to her when she would tell her friends and family, “oh I’m gonna be a fashion designer and Olympic Gold medalist when I’m older,” “I wanna go to space, fly in planes, and see all the wonders of the world,” “I’ll be a doctor, a teacher, and movie star!” They’d smile and laugh, thinking it was adorable for a little girl to dream big. No way would it be possible to achieve all of those careers. Everyone only gets one life to live and time goes so fast one can only set their eyes on one path and hope for the best.

But Y/n was a dreamer. And if you’re going to dream, might as well dream big.

All through middle and high school people took Y/n’s intelligence for granted. Focusing more on her beauty rather than brains, it came as an under shock to everyone when Y/n had the credits to graduate at the ripe age of 15. Exceeding in her standardized test scores with a high school resume taking up three pages with extracurricular and academic achievements, she had colleges from all over the country begging for her to apply.

Stanford. Cornell. Pratt. Juilliard. NYU. John Hopkins. Harvard. UCLA. Duke. Top medical and law schools. Ivy League universities. Performing Arts schools calling for auditions after sending scouts to watch her perform in school plays and dance recitals. Coaches from high ranking NCAA gymnastics teams sending emails after emails.

So many to choose from….And so the story of Y/n L/n becoming a real life Barbie Doll begins.

Setting her eyes in New York, Y/n attended not one but two of the best schools in the country. While obtaining her bachelor’s in both astronautical and aeronautical engineering at NYU Y/n also completed a two year degree in Fashion Business Management at the Fashion Institute of Technology. During this time she continued training for the Olympics in hopes of making the 2008 Beijing team in gymnastics.

“How do you do it?” Her roommate at NYU constantly asked. “You go from here to FIT, working on two degrees that are completely on opposite sides of the spectrum and career paths,” she emphasized with hand expressions, “and still have enough to time to go to the gym to practice, eat three meals a day, have all your assignments done early, and sleep a reasonably about of hours each night.” Letting out an exhale, her roommate looks at Y/n as if she’s an alien from another world, “What’s your secret? Are you some kind of Barbie doll the government created as a test robot?”

Each time Y/n would pause, think for a moment before smiling, “I don’t know if I should find that as an insult or compliment, but I’m gonna chose it as a compliment and say it’s because I want to live a life where I can look back on and go, ‘I took a risk and tried something new even if it didn’t look possible but it was all worth it.’”

By the time Y/n turned 20 she had accumulated a vast list of credentials to her name. The list included getting her fashion business degree at 17, Bachelors in astronautical/aeronautical engineering at 19–receiving her Master’s for it at 20–An Olympic Gold and Silver medalist, dancing with the Radio City Rockettes, performing with the NYC Ballet Company in their rendition of Swan Lake, landing a role on Broadway, walking a runway at NY fashion week, and appearing on episodes of SVU, 30 Rock, All My Children, Sex and the City, and Ugly Betty.

So yeah, New York was a success in experiences for Y/n.

Following the high note, she packed her bags to leave the golden apple for the flashing lights of Hollywood, California. This time Y/n was working on her doctorates at USC, running her own business with her fashion degree called ‘Dream Closet’, and auditioning for film and tv shows.

Hollywood was a dream come true just like New York. Again she attended two different schools, this time flight school and USC. During the day she was occupied running from class to the hangar and then the observatory. Coaching dance and gymnastics on the side, designing clothes for her online shop which developed into a pop-up chain store in malls across America.

It wasn’t long until Y/n’s name grew into nationwide popularity. People started realizing the Y/n L/n who won the Gold and Silver medals in the 2008 Olympics was the same one responsible for the most recent fashion trends and guest starring on their favorite tv shows. What really set it in stone was when Y/n landed the role of an engineer officer in the 2009 reboot of Star Trek, going on to appear in both the 2013 and 2016 sequels.

Impressive was the only word her costars could use to describe her. What else was there?

Anytime there was a question involving, “who’s most likely to become president?” “Who’s most likely to try something new or create a new hobby?” “Who’s most likely to win a Nobel Prize?” Along those lines…the answer was obvious.

“Oh Y/n,” Zoe Saldana waves her hand, “Always.”

“Yeah,” Chris Pine agrees with a laugh, “That woman, I-I don’t know how one has the energy to do all that she does—a-and still want to do more.”

The Interviewer laughs with them, “didn’t she just race in the Daytona 500 last year?”

“Yes!! And she did a song with Lady Gaga when they were on American Horror Story,” Zoe’s tone is in absolute awe, “All while teaching at USC and creating new technology at NASA.” Chris lifts a finger.

“Don’t forget she had her own Mac Viva Glam line a couple years ago.” Zoe made a sound along the lines of ‘see what I mean,’.

“I’m telling you, she’s gonna be a name in the history books.”

What all has Y/n accomplished career wise? Let’s take a look.

Model, dancer, actor, singer, fashion designer, entrepreneur, athlete, engineer, race car driver, and professor.

And now she can add pilot to the list. Although she got her license to fly way back in 2009, Y/n didn’t put it to use full time until 2016, wanting to wait until after the release of Star Trek: Beyond to say goodbye to Hollywood for the time being and set forth on her next adventure.

Boy did it come as a surprise what she had planned.

The Manila folder containing her resume hit the desk of the Admiral, his eyes wide as saucers. “You wanna join the Navy?” Reading the front page for a fifth time, Cyclone glanced back at the woman in front of him. Doctor Y/n L/n. Or is it professor L/n? “And you wanna be one of my pilots?”

“Yes, Sir.”

”Ma’am, I apologize if this comes off as offending,” he really didn’t know any other way to put it. “But you are more qualified than any person on this base. Doctorates in aeronautical and astronautical engineering from the University of Southern California,” he counts off on his fingers, “you recently developed a groundbreaking advancement in space technology that’s going to help our astronauts—on the road to becoming a Nobel Prize nominee.” He raises his eyebrows, “And this is only what relates to this career field. I’m not even mentioning your acting, athletic, and fashion credentials. Why join the Navy?”

Y/n only offers a shrug, “I think the better question is, why not?” Cyclone lets out a sigh.

“What did you say your callsign was again?”

“Barbie.”

There was no stopping the small smile trying to break free, “I should’ve guessed.”

After completing OTS there was much debate on what Y/n’s rank would be coming into the Navy. Civilian lawyers and physicians often are Lieutenants (O-3) right away, but considering Y/n had two doctorate degrees and her pilot license they felt it was only fair for her to come in as Commander (O-5). From there Y/n was sent to North Island to attend Fighter Weapons School.

Better known to its flyers as Top Gun.

Y/n was used to the looks she received on a daily basis. From head to toe she was covered in variations of pink depending on what she was feeling. When teaching her briefcase and pantsuit were baby pink, in the labs her coat was hot pink, at auditions she wore pink leather jackets. Even her race car for the Daytona was pink.

Shoutout to Mac cosmetics for the sponsorship.

So it’s no surprise her flight suit would be the color she was known for—despite it being out of regulations.

Being more qualified than your superiors had its perks.

If she could have a pink F-18 she would but unfortunately that wasn’t possible. That was okay for Y/n. After all, she managed to get her own custom flight suit. One which had everyone having to do double takes whenever she walked into a room.

“Is she wearing…?”

“How the hell did they allow that?”

“Does that mean I can have mine in purple?”

Her first day at Top Gun Y/n met Natasha ‘Phoenix’ Trace. They were paired as roommates in the dorms and quickly became good friends. Phoenix was beyond amazed with Y/n’s accomplishments and experiences. Every conversation led to a new discovery. “Do you ever burn out?” Nat stag criss crossed on Y/n’s satin pink bed sheets, admiring her wall of photos from when she traveled to see all the wonders of both the ancient and modern world. “I feel I’d be a walking corpse from exhaustion. And you mentioned you’re still running and designing clothes for ‘Dream Closet’?”

Y/n removed her diamond studs, placing them on her desk she was using as a vanity. “I have a team dealing with the business side of things for the brand. I’m still CEO and creative director—usually I work on designs for a couple hours before bed to prepare for the next launch.”

Nat was in awe, “I have to ask….what’s been the best career you’ve done so far?” A common question Y/n heard, there was never a true answer. She loved every career. They all had their perks and their flaws, but at the end of the day it left her satisfied she achieved them.

“I don’t know yet,” she spoke truthfully, “I still have a few to check off on my list. When that happens I’ll let you know.”

Fast forwarding to 2019, Y/n answered the phone to Admiral Simpson’s voice with the news she needed to report back to North Island for a highly confidential mission. The details were unknown, but Y/n packed her bags, loaded her pink vintage corvette convertible and high tailed it to sunny San Diego.

The squeals initiated by Y/n and Nat the moment she stepped foot in the Hard Deck had heads whipping in their direction. “Hi, Barbie!” Nat’s arms opened for a hug.

“Hi, Phoenix!” Y/n accepted the embrace, still grinning ear to ear. The guys around them were looking at each other like, ‘what the…?’ Y/n wasn’t in her standard Khakis like they were—minus Rooster. She bore a pink denim number with matching boots with her hair curled and pink eyeliner surrounded by tiny rhinestones.

“You got selected too?” Nat complimented her outfit before cutting straight to the point.

“For the special detachment? Looks like it,” she winked.

“What happened to the Artemis program? Weren’t you up as a candidate?”

“Oh I still am,” Y/n affirmed proudly, “They’ll be announcing who’s to be selected in the coming months. So for now I’m still with the Bounty Hunters. Plus,” she leans in to whisper, “this will look good on my resume.” The two giggle before Y/n drifts her gaze to the boggling gazes in front of her. “Oh! I’m sorry for being so rude. I’m Y/n L/n,” extending her hand to the first person who’s name tag read Fitch, Y/n added, “But you can call me Barbie.”

“Barbie,” the blonde holding a pool cue repeated like a question, “like the toy Barbie?” Nat chuckled, throwing an arm around her friend after she was done shaking everyone’s hand as they introduced themselves.

“Fellas, if there is anyone who is a life sized version of Barbie, it’s this one right here.”

“Now, Phee…” Y/n’s tone was that of, ‘Don’t start.’

“It’s true,” the pilot defended. “Not only is she Commander Y/n ‘Barbie’ L/n,” jaws drop, “but she’s Professor and Doctor L/n.” The jaws hit the floor, “On top of founder, creative director and CEO of ‘Dream’s Closet,’” Javy makes a sound, familiar with the brand, “Emmy nominated actress,” Fanboy chokes on his water, “Olympic Gold Medalist and soon to be astronaut for the Artemis program.” By now all the guys are on the verge of losing their minds.

Bob rapidly blinks, “uh—.”

“Now I’m not an astronaut yet,” Y/n points out, “I’m a candidate for one.” Nat scoffs lightly.

“They’d be stupid not to pick you, Barb,” she then slaps her side, turning back to the guys, “Oh and how could I forget Broadway, Vogue, and the Daytona 500.”

“Daytona 500!?” Payback practically screeches.

“You were on Broadway?”

“—featured on Vogue—?!”

“Wait a minute I recognize you from Star Trek!”

“—How in the hell—.”

“Guys, guys!” Y/n laughs with her hands slightly raised, “Please, one at a time.” They were in for a long night of questions and story times. And just like Nat was years prior when she first roomed with Y/n at Top Gun, the officers were in complete amazement over the woman in front of them. Never had they met anyone like her.

“Wow,” Jake whistled once she finished bringing them up to date on her most recent careers. “You really are a real-life Barbie.”

“Shhhh,” a finger went to her lips, followed by a wink, “don’t tell Mattel.”

And thus the dagger squad was formed. Two and half weeks of hell bearing training preceding a face-with-death mission brings people closer. Every morning Y/n arrived at the hangar to a chorus of “Hi, Barbie.”

She waved at Reuben, “Hi Payback.”

“Hey there, Barbie Girl,” Javy threw her a peace sign.

“Hiya, Coyote!”

“Good morning, Barbie,” Rooster tipped his hat.

“Mornin’, Rooster.”

“Hi, Barbie!” “Hi, Barbie!” Her favorite duo harmonized.

“Hi, Bob! Hi, Phee!”

And for some closer than others….

“You know I was thinking,” Jake commented, taking Y/n’s hand before leading her to the pottery class he signed them up for. Every Friday night was reserved for date night. Dinner and a movie. Walk on the beach. Spending $20 worth of quarters at an arcade. Attending a comedy show. Paint and sip. Following the successful mission, Jake and Y/n hit it off and began seeing each other.

“Famous last words.”

“It’s not bad,” a chuckle left his lips, stopping at the door. “I just thought it was funny. You know how you’re basically Barbie?” His cheeky smile resulted in her mirroring it.

“Yessss.”

“This means I’m pretty much your Ken, right?” The question makes the woman visible ‘awe’. Jake ruffles a hand through his hair and gives his best blue steel, “we kinda look alike. Don’t you think?”

Laughing, Y/n kisses his cheek, “I mean…name a more iconic duo than Barbie and Ken.”

“Barbie and Hangman?”

“Exactly.” It was safe to assume what their Halloween costumes were going to be.

Time went on, missions were run. And after a year of anticipation—though it felt like forever, it was finally announced in 2020 Y/n would be one of the astronauts selected to be part of NASA’s Artemis program launching in 2024.

Making Y/n the first woman to go to the moon.

The call came in from a restricted number when they were in a meeting, and knowing she was to expect a call within the month everyone quickly shut up so the pilot could answer.

She excused herself to leave the room, staying in front of the window so the team could see her. Throughout the conversation Y/n’s expression remained neutral to the point none had a clue whether the news was good or bad. Only when she reentered the room did they get the answer.

“I’m going to the moon!!!”

“Ahhh!!!!” The team exploded in an array of cheers, Y/n jumping up and down, careful not to drop her phone that was in her hands when Jake lifted her in his arms.

“I’m so fucking proud of you!” Despite being unauthorized to show pda in uniform, Jake gave her a big kiss on the lips, not caring who saw. “You are the most exceptional human being on this planet.”

“Jake,” tears welled in her eyes, which he kissed away. Her heart filled with warmth and gratitude. Feeling on top of the world with her closest friends supporting her.

Once all calmed down and they finished the meeting, Mickey jumped from his seat, “Come on Barbie, let’s go party!” Everyone sped to the Hard Deck to celebrate the news. Mav bought the first round, followed by Payback.

“Guys you don’t have to do all that,” Y/n said once she realized they all agreed to buy her drinks for the night.

“We want to,” Nat tapped her beer with Y/n’s cocktail glass, the guys voicing agreements. “For years you’ve been dreaming about this and it’s finally happening. Your hard work is paying off and we want to celebrate—show you we love and appreciate you, Barbie.”

Y/n fought back tears, never afraid to show her emotions. Some may find it childish or thinned skin, but to Y/n that was what being human was all about. “I love you guys.”

“We love you!” The voices echoed together.

The night had been going well with the squad hanging out by the pool tables like they usually did when Y/n approached the bar to pick up the next round Mickey was paying for. Not paying attention to those beside her, she smiled at Penny and repeated the order before waiting patiently.

But what’s a night at a bar without someone who lacks boundaries.

“You must be the one they call Barbie,” a voice says, flirtation seeping through the words. Glancing to her right, Y/n recognizes a gentleman from the flight line whose name she could not recall. “You’re quite the talk around base. In fact, weren’t you in some Hollywood blockbuster?”

“Yes,” she politely responds, keeping the answer short. Though she was known to be a sweetheart and kindhearted to anyone she met, Y/n could tell where the interaction was heading toward and did not feel comfortable entertaining it any further. “A long time ago.”

“I’m Lieutenant Paul Billings,” he extended his hand, and she immediately clocked he was trying to show off his rank. ‘Boy he’s in for a treat.’

Not wanting to make a scene, she accepts the handshake. “Commander Y/n L/n,” there was emphasis on the Commander, displaying the woman was of higher rank and therefore a silent warning to Billings to not cross a line.

There was a flash of surprise on his face. Y/n held back an amused laugh, ‘guess you didn’t hear everything.’

“Something the matter, Lieutenant?”

“No,” he brushes it off, “Nothing. Say,” he nods to the bar, “can I buy you a drink.” Did he not just hear her order a round for the people she came with?

“That’s kind of you,” she starts just as Penny arrives with a try full of cold beers and her usual cocktail. “But I’m all set, thank you.” Hands moving to take the tray, she jumps slightly at the feeling of his own coming to her wrist.

“What about lunch this week?”

“I’m sorry but I am spoken for, Lieutenant,” removing his hold, Y/n takes a step away.

Now Paul had lost his reasonable composure. Scoffing, he says, “What? Am I not enough for you?” The question results in her raising a brow.

“I beg your pardon?”

He makes a face, “You think because you’ve done all these careers and occupations that you’re better than the average person? I’m not a pilot and an actor or researching the cure for cancer while creating a documentary series,” venom seeps through his tone, obviously depicting his jealousy, “Basic is not up to your standards, so you have to throw our failures in our face as if we don’t already know.”

By now a crowd has formed. Jake started moving the second he noticed Billings etching too close to his girl, followed by Nat and the others who were ready to back him up. Behind the bar, Penny was fixing to ring the bell until being stopped by Y/n’s wave of the hand.

“Are you done?”

Paul’s expression was that of, “what?” No audible response was voiced therefore Y/n continued.

“Okay, I’m gonna go ahead and say this, Paul,” Y/n drops her shoulder. The change in body language let Jake and her friends know she wasn’t taking anything that the man said personally. “I know I should be offended by your insults and insinuations, but the truth is I’m not.” A small smile forms on her lips, “I don’t view myself higher than anyone because of what I accomplished. The only person I do that to, is myself—because I don’t have to prove to no one but me that I am capable of achieving what I set my mind to. And yeah,” a light chuckle escapes, “I’ve set my mind to a lot of things—way more than the average person. But that doesn’t mean you or anyone else can’t do the same.”

Pausing Y/n takes a breath before exhaling, “You look at me, and hate the way it makes you view yourself. Makes you believe you’re a failure because you didn’t follow the path you hoped to make for yourself.” Paul’s expression shifts to one of solemnity, like he was thinking of his younger self who had dreams and aspirations. Mourning what could have been.

It made Y/n sad for him. Empathetic despite him attacking her. “One thing I’ve learned over the years…is time is what you make of it. Life is about taking risks. You can still set out to do whatever it is you wish, as long as you’re committing to taking the risk no matter how scary it is. Sure you’ll find obstacles and it’ll feel like the whole world is against you. But determination will guide you through the walls, and you will be successful so that you can look back and think, ‘it was worth it.’ As cliche as it sounds,” she couldn’t hold back a laugh, “Barbie isn’t a person or an object you can obtain. Barbie is a mindset. And you have to unlock it in your own way, Paul.”

It was so quiet in the building, a pin could drop and everyone would hear it. Their looks of awe, admiration, and even newfound motivation by Y/n’s speech. Impressed by how classy she handled what very well could have been a scream match between rival squadrons.

Behind Billings the Dagger squad stood with proud smirks at their friend. Especially Jake, who caught Y/n’s eyes and threw her a wink. Nat gave the woman a salute, a silent gesture to say, ‘you inspire me everyday.’

And Billings? Well he was at a loss for words.

Patting his shoulder, Y/n grabbed the tray of drinks, “I wish you luck, Paul.” Thanking Penny, who gave her a proud nod and replied, “this ones on the house,” Y/n returned to her friends where she was met with a sweet kiss from Jake, claps on the back and “You go girl!” “Tell them who’s boss.” “Damn, you made me wanna go out there and live life the way I should.”

“What’s stopping you, Javy?” she handed him a beer, “the world is your playground.”

A couple hours later it was time to call it a night. Hugs went around, promises to meet up the following night and tabs were closed.

On their way out, Jake dropped a kiss to Y/n forehead, pulling her close to him as he led her to the door of the parking lot, “So what’s next for you, doll? You’ve proved you can be anything and anyone you chose to be,” he grins at her, “What will you set your mind to now after space?”

“First, I want to write a book—I think that’s something a lot have been waiting for me to do. Afterwards, well, I’ll have to wait a couple more years, but,” The corner of Y/n’s lips lift up before flashing a dazzling smile, “I’m thinking….the Oval Office is in need of a makeover. Don’t you think?”

Then, before he could answer, Y/n turns her head in the opposite direction as if she’s trying to find a hidden camera. Makes eye contact with you, the reader, winking before turning back to Jake where she sets off on her next adventure.

…………….

TGM Tag List: @avaleineandafryingpan @caitsymichelle13 @poppyalice2001 @cutelittlepotatofry @luckyladycreator2 @americaarse @elenavampire21 @back-tooo-black @wildellaa @artemissunn @pinkpantheris

[novelmonger]

First Contact

Written for @inklings-challenge 2024. It feels very first draft-y to me, and didn't quite end up how I initially envisioned it, but here it is.

When the first lights were seen in the sky, some said it was the end of the world. Passages from Revelation and other religious texts were thrown around, talking of stars falling from the sky or the Four Horsemen coming to bring judgment.

Others said, with slightly less drama, that it must be some sort of cosmological phenomenon—perhaps dozens of meteors falling to Earth to usher in the next Ice Age.

Still others, with an air of smugness, said these lights proved they'd been right all along. The extraterrestrials were real after all, and now they'd come in their UFOs to subjugate all of Earth at last. They'd been called crazy when they talked of inexplicable lights and experiences of being beamed into flying saucers and probed, but now the little green men were back, and everyone who'd called them liars would see the truth. Oh yes, they would see.

And then of course there were those who pointed fingers at one country after another, blaming them for sending missiles and unauthorized aircraft across the borders of peaceful nations. Some ran for their bunkers, but those who continued to pay attention to the news quickly learned that the same thing was happening all around the world. None of the world's superpowers were capable of such a feat.

Dr. Shannon Campbell wasn't sure what to think. Ever since reading War of the Worlds in high school, the thought of first contact had fascinated her. If aliens really were out there, what would they be like? Would they be hostile like so many books and movies claimed? Or might there be a way to communicate with them?

And suddenly, it wasn't just an idle imagining or the raving of lunatics. The possibility that they were not alone in the universe started to look more and more likely. And then she got a call, and then a visit from some bigwig at NASA and a General Somebody-or-Other decked out in camouflage, and the next thing she knew, she'd packed a bag and was heading to an undisclosed location in the Midwest.

It turned out everyone was a little bit wrong, and a little bit right at the same time. In the middle of a cornfield, an extraterrestrial spaceship had landed. But it was more of a shiny silver sphere than a flying saucer, and it didn't quite seem to be the end of the world just yet. Not to mention that the beings that emerged were neither little green men, nor were they Tripods or bug people or anything else Dr. Campbell had ever imagined aliens to look like.

The aliens...stepped? Floated? Well, they emerged somehow from the side of their spaceship, which shimmered to let them through but immediately looked the same as it had before. Not like a door or a hatch opening. And the aliens themselves were pale creatures that somewhat resembled octopi, or maybe jellyfish. Their bodies hovered in the air, with long, thin tentacles dangling down to the earth.

But even as the NASA scientists and soldiers surrounding the spaceship looked on, the aliens' forms began to shift. They hunkered down closer to the ground, their many tentacles sticking together and morphing into thicker, smaller limbs. Soon, instead of dozens of tentacles, they only had four, and their bodies compressed into something more like a torso and a head.

They were mimicking the humans, Dr. Campbell suddenly realized. In mere minutes, they had assumed roughly humanoid shapes, with arms and legs and...well, it looked more like two clusters of tiny eyestalks rather than eyes, but they were basically in the right place on their faces. They had no ears or noses that she could see, and their hands looked like they were wearing mittens rather than being divided into ten fingers. And where their mouths should have been was a thin membrane that glowed slightly as it vibrated with the low humming sounds the aliens had been emitting the entire time.

One of the aliens began to glide forward, holding its too-long arms out to the sides. The humming intensified, all of the aliens joining in at different pitches and frequencies, like some kind of interstellar choir. Several soldiers raised their weapons, but Dr. Campbell hastily said, “Please, don't shoot! We should at least try to communicate with them first!”

The general glanced nervously between the slowly advancing alien and Dr. Campbell, then gave her a sort of shrug as if to say, “Suit yourself.” He motioned for his soldiers to lower their weapons, and everyone took a step back.

Dr. Campbell swallowed. Now that she stood facing the alien leader, presumably, she felt like she had during her first undergrad presentation: two inches tall, and faintly sick.

But then...was that just her imagination, or were those words, garbled in mouths without tongues? Words in English?

“Gogojohnnygo. Heusedtocarryhis. Guitarinagunnysack?”

“Wait...is that...'Johnny B. Goode'?”

High-pitched trills exploded from every alien, their mouth-membranes vibrating loudly as their long tentacle arms waved excitedly in the air. At least...she thought it was excitement. For all she knew, maybe they were about to attack.

Some of the surrounding soldiers seemed to think this, as they tensed and looked ready either to bolt or to start firing.

Maybe the alien leader realized this, because his trills descended sharply in pitch and volume, like he was shushing them. The others quieted down as well, until the humming started up again. This time it was a complicated rhythm, interweaving several melodies at once, with an interesting breathy quality to their voices that almost made them sound like musical instruments on an ancient phonograph.

And yet...the longer she listened to them, the more she realized it sounded familiar too. “That's, like...Bach or something, isn't it? They're humming Bach.”

But how on earth would they know Bach? Or 'Johnny B. Goode,' for that matter. The only reason Dr. Campbell knew it was because of Back to the Future. She pressed a couple fingers against her aching temples. Multiple PhDs in linguistics and anthropology hadn't prepared her for this.

While she was pondering, the aliens moved on from their Bach concerto and suddenly started barking like a dog. Then made the clop-clop-clopping sounds of a horse trotting along. Then something that almost sounded like the pattering of rain on a roof. Then, as one, they all emitted the exact same laugh.

A sudden suspicion. Dr. Campbell whipped out her phone and frantically looked something up on Wikipedia. Sure enough, it all clicked into place. With a gasp, Dr. Campbell straightened up and looked at the aliens looming over them. “It's Voyager! They're mimicking the recordings sent with Voyager!”

“What does that mean?” the general snapped, irritation masking his nervousness at not having a handle on what was going on.

Slowly, a smile spread across Dr. Campbell's face. “It means we have a basis for communication.”

~*~*~*~*~*~

By the end of six months, Dr. Campbell had managed it at last. She'd managed to hold an entire conversation with the aliens, and was reasonably certain both sides understood what was being said. It was the greatest achievement of her life...and she was just getting started.

Once it became clear that the aliens weren't going to immediately start shooting laser guns or levitating people into their spaceship and start probing them, the army seemed to relax a little. A temporary camp of trailers and tents had been set up in the cornfield with all the equipment Dr. Campbell needed to do her work, as well as a base of operations for the soldiers who created a perimeter around the cornfield to keep curious civilians from wandering through before they could fully ascertain the aliens' intentions.

It seemed the aliens were also in favor of caution. After that first day, when Dr. Campbell had pulled up a recording of the record that had been placed in Voyager and played it for the aliens, attempting to convey that they were trying to communicate, all the other spaceships that hovered in the air around the world had returned to orbit around Earth. They linked together in a chain, like Earth were wearing a pearl necklace, and just stayed there.

Presumably, communications were carried out between those ships and the one in the cornfield, that attempts were being made to speak with the humans. Maybe now that they were finally able to speak to each other and they could ascertain their intentions, the other ships would land again.

So far, they hadn't discussed anything of particular importance. Just things like names (the leader that Dr. Campbell talked to most often was called something like Brrringgnggniiiiib, but she called him Johnny), whether the aliens could breathe the air (it seemed they could, though they preferred the pressurized atmosphere of their spaceship), and what various objects in view were called. Both parties were curious about the other, but cautious of giving too much away. Just in case.

The aliens' language was highly tonal, like Mandarin but with a whole symphony of timbres and tones, some of which were far too high or low for human vocal cords. The real breakthrough had been when the team of technicians from around the world had cobbled together a soundboard with programmable pitches. Over the months, by working with the world's most skilled computer engineers, they'd been able to create an alien translator, where a human could type in what they wanted to say on a standard computer keyboard, and it would translate to a series of music-like tones that would play on a speaker for the alien. Then when the alien spoke in its language into a microphone, the machine would translate it into English on a little screen.

It was a slow, arduous process, but it worked. It only translated to English for now, but it would be a simple matter to add more human languages to the database, a project the technicians were already hard at work to complete. And though the translator was currently the size of a pipe organ and required a mass of extension cords and portable generators and solar panels just to run for a few minutes a day, Dr. Campbell had no doubt that eventually this machine would be reduced to a pocket-sized translator everyone carried with them. That is, if the aliens were going to stay.

And that was what today was all about.

Dr. Campbell stepped out of her trailer, breathing in the crisp air of the October morning and wrapping cold fingers around her mug of coffee. As always, the shiny dome of the alien ship rose against the sky, the constant backdrop of what her life had become. It looked somewhat foggy towards the bottom—frost, perhaps?

She took another sip of coffee, swirling the bitter liquid around her mouth as she wondered what Johnny would think of the taste. They hadn't yet discussed what the aliens ate—if they ate. They didn't exactly have mouths, after all. Though Birdcall, what she called the shortest of the alien crew, had once picked up a blade of grass and seemed to absorb it through the palm of the hand, before Hellohello had whistled shrilly, apparently admonishing Birdcall, who had immediately 'spit out' the grass, leaving it a little crumpled in the dirt. Like a mother scolding her child for putting something into her mouth that she'd picked up off the ground.

Draining the last of her coffee, Dr. Campbell stretched and set off across the cornfield to the tent where the translator resided. “Time to make history, I guess.”

Just like every day, Dr. Campbell met Johnny in the middle of the cornfield with a trill she personally thought sounded like a ringing telephone. It was a greeting, one of the alien words she was actually able to say herself. She held her arms out to the sides and wiggled them a little—it was like a hand wave. She'd finally stopped feeling stupid when she did it.

Johnny also held out his arms and wiggled them, though his looked much better because his 'arms' were really just tentacles stuck together in an approximation of human arms. “HeeLLLlllooooOOOoo, DoooktoooooRRRR,” he said in his sing-song voice. Johnny was much better at speaking English than she was at speaking his language.

Dr. Campbell thought of Johnny as 'he,' mostly because she'd started calling him Johnny, but she still wasn't sure if the aliens even had genders. The conversation they'd tried to have about that had left everyone more confused than when they'd started.

“Shall we begin?” she asked, gesturing towards the tent with the translator.

Johnny 'nodded,' which for him meant bobbing in a sort of full-body bow that made him look like one of those floppy dancing inflatable things outside of a car dealership. The aliens didn't nod as a way of indicating assent, but Johnny was always trying to mimic Dr. Campbell's mannerisms. It was kind of cute, in a way. If a tall, spindly alien with eyestalks and no mouth could be called cute.

Once she'd situated herself at the console of the translator, Dr. Campbell looked across at Johnny. He knelt or sat (it was hard to tell which when the limbs he folded beneath him had no joints and just sort of glommed into a squishy mass supporting his torso) on the ground a comfortable distance away. She'd offered him a chair several times before, but even once he finally understood what to do with it, he'd assured her that he was just as comfortable without one.

Taking a deep breath, Dr. Campbell put her fingers on the keyboard and looked across at Johnny, meeting his eyes—well, at least a few of his eyestalks, anyway. He liked to keep a 360-degree visual range at all times. Then she typed in the first, and perhaps most important, question:

Why did you come to Earth?

The almost musical sound of computerized tones echoed through the still morning air. Dr. Campbell was suddenly aware of many eyes on the two of them—the general, the two guards who were always stationed at this tent to keep anyone from tampering with the translator, the technicians and scientists standing by. They couldn't understand the aliens' language just from listening to it, but everyone knew this was an important day in history. The day they would finally get some answers.

Johnny's trills and chirps were very familiar to Dr. Campbell by now, and she could almost catch a few words here and there, but he spoke much too fast when they were at the translator. She had to wait for the words to trail across the screen.

“We hear voicings we know people being in the darkness. We must bring light.”

Light? Do you mean knowledge? Dr. Campbell's heart leapt. Maybe they would share the secret to faster-than-light travel.

Johnny bobbed in a half-bow. “Knowings. We asking you a questioning now Doctor.”

Dr. Campbell looked up at Johnny and nodded. A question for a question. Only fair.

Johnny leaned forward a little. It was almost impossible to make out expressions on his mushy alien face, but he seemed eager. “Are you knowing of your origin?”

“Origin?” Dr. Campbell muttered aloud as she read the words on the screen. She frowned up at Johnny for a moment, trying to understand what he was asking. Do you mean my parents? The people who gave birth to me? She didn't even know how the aliens reproduced, or whether Johnny would understand what she was talking about.

Johnny swayed his whole body from side to side, his version of shaking his head, while humming a single note that sounded kind of like a dial tone. Every single one of Johnny's many eyestalks zeroed in on her, catching her in an unblinking alien stare. Johnny's next words came like a song, so mesmerizing it was all she could do to glance down at the screen to see what he was saying.

“Origin is life beginning. Origin is light sun star root. Origin is making planets moons we Doctor Earth. Origin is making good peace life. We are of Origin and when Earth metal rock falling to our planet we are saying we must see. We must know. Does Earth is knowing Origin? Or is only darkness?”

Dr. Campbell's mind whirled. Suddenly, after months of extreme caution and dancing around revealing too much, now she wasn't sure what to do with this influx of information. She had a dozen new questions, and it took her a moment to decide what to ask first.

Is Origin your planet?

Johnny swayed a no again. “Origin is making our planet. Origin is making Earth. Origin is making us. Origin is making you. Origin is making cooOOOoorrnnnnffffIIIiiieeeeEEEEllLLLd,” he added, switching to English for that word, since the aliens apparently didn't have corn on their planet.

Slowly, a suspicion dawned on her. This 'Origin' was something that had made everything in the universe. It almost sounded like...a creation myth. Are you talking about a god?

Johnny's long limbs flipped into the air, and he let out an excited trill as he bobbed up and down. “We are not knowing you are knowing this word Doctor. Please saying this word in your voicings so we may be learning it.”

Dr. Campbell looked up at Johnny's eyes going haywire, at his 'arms' beginning to fray into many tentacles in his excitement. Slowly and clearly, she said, “God.”

Such a short word, but when Johnny repeated it several times in his musical voice, it sounded so beautiful. Like somehow, the little song made from the membrane of his 'mouth' vibrating was part of the very fabric of the universe. The music of the spheres.

After a few minutes of repeating the word God,interspersed with the trills and chitterings of his own language that Dr. Campbell couldn't fully understand because he wasn't speaking into the mic anymore, Johnny made an effort to calm himself down. “TTTtthhhhHHHaaaAAAAaaannnngnggnkk yoooOOOOOoooooouuuuUUUU, DoooktoooooRRRR,” he said carefully in English, before pulling the mic closer so he could speak more fluently in his own tongue. “We are very exciting Doctor because we are seeing now that God is showing to you in Earth also. God is holding universe in hands and we are family with Earth. We are thinking we must fly to Earth to show God leading the way but you are already following.”

“Whoa, whoa, hold up a second,” Dr. Campbell muttered. “I haven't even been to Sunday School since I was five.” But how to explain that to...an extraterrestrial missionary, apparently? Biting her lip, she eventually went with I'm not even sure I believe in God. There are lots of people on Earth who don't. Some people believe in different gods, or none at all.

Johnny hummed for a little after the translator's tones subsided. Not humming in words, just a faint sound of discomfort. Or thoughtfulness. Dr. Campbell wasn't sure. But he grew still, with none of the excited energy of a moment ago.

Finally, Johnny leaned towards the mic again and said, “We are saddening to be hearing this Doctor. But we are also gladdening because this means we are staying in Earth for longer. We are hoping you are letting us stay. We want to be learning more of Earth. We want to be talking more about God with you and other Doctor people.”

Funny. If it had been a Jehovah's Witness or somebody like that on her doorstep, asking if she had time to talk about their Lord and Savior, she would have shut the door in their faces. But this was a literal alien saying that he wanted to have conversations with her about God and who knew what else. So she found herself smiling and typing in response:

I would like that.