#so in the afternoon i decided to stick with her n her friends n a teacher to go out for dinner | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

nodoubtily · 6 days ago

Note

okay wait I just requested jealous jungwon smut but how abt the reader having a huge crush on him n shit n he knows abt it but doesn’t act on it until he sees someone else tryna go after reader 😫 IK THIS IS BASIC BUT PLSSS

OHHHH YEAH

Warnings : smut so MDNI, possessive Jungwon, underage drinking, slight choking, teasing, dirty usage of language. Lmk if I missed anything! Not proofread!

Jungwon who froze when you first confessed, albeit accidentally, but nevertheless.

Jungwon who watched you cut through different corridors to avoid him, preventing an awkward moment.

Jungwon who chooses to just carry on about his day. Clearly you were trying to move on, and it’s best for him to stay out of your way.

“Come on, Won. Just talk to her.” Jay had said one afternoon at Jungwon’s house. “She’s literally ignoring me.” Jungwon reasoned.

Jungwon who feels a weird feeling growing in his stomach as he sees you grow a little closer with Sunoo.

Jungwon who can’t help but feel jealous as he watches Sunoo lean in close to you, whispering something you find funny for some stupid fucking reason, sulking when you playfully slap Sunoo’s arms.

Jungwon who boils over at Jake’s party, mentally snapping as he sees Sunoo and you talking in the hallway, faces close.

Jungwon who grabs your wrist, leading you to the bathroom located in the other side of the house.

written:

“Jungwon..” you say quietly, attempting to ignore the growing butterflies in your abdomen. “What are you do—“

“I can’t stand this.” He says reputedly. His eyes flicker between your eyes and your lips, which you catch on. Your fingers reach to your bottom lip, and you can’t help but feel a little sad.

“What do you mean?” You ask, voice shaky. His whole being brings you different emotions; the air around you thick with the tension.

The tension that has only built up since that dreadful moment you absolutely refuse to reminisce.

“I have only tried to make things less difficult for you..” his voice is low, menacing. It brings chills to your spine, though you can’t shake the feeling of your thighs clenching, all because of the way he’s looking at you, watching you. “And yet you decide to torture me.”

“How have I been torturing you?” Your voice is frustratingly shaking, and you can’t help it. Your hands tremble, and you resort to clenching your fingers around the rim of your skirt.

“Avoiding me…talking to my best friend, giggling at his jokes, slapping his arm. Absolute torture.” Your cheeks blush, you feel it. You feel the blood rushing to your face, sweat sticking to your skin, surrounding the air in such a tiny bathroom. “Do you enjoy messing with my brain?”

“You’re the one who rejected me—“

“I didn’t say anything. You caught me off guard. I didn’t get the chance to explain how I really felt. And then you moved on, and I’m stuck. Stuck imagining a future with you in it.” Jungwon cuts through your sentence, and you only flush more with embarrassment.

“I’m sorry you feel that way. And, I don’t like Sunoo like that.” You reassure, your knuckles turning whiter the longer they’re scrunched n your dress.

“Do you still like me? Do you still want me, the way that I, want you?” Jungwon edges forward, causing you to bump onto the sink. Your hands clutch the edge of the bench, leaning against it as your heart paces quicker.

“Yes.” You quiver.

“You still want me?” Jungwon’s voice is doing something to you. Your legs cross over, and your hips buck as you beg yourself for some kind of relief.

Jungwon takes notice to your growing sense of need, and his hands find your waist, pulling you flush against him. He towers over you, his eyes portraying a different side of him.

A side of him only you’ll ever get to see. A side that belongs to only you, just as how, you belong to only him.

“I want you, Y/N.” His voice is low, his hair wispy over his face. Your eyes follow along his face, and you’re in disbelief at the close proximity.

“You have me.” You say in the same low voice to, just above a whisper, but still ever so quiet.

That was all the reassurance Jungwon needed.

Without warning, his hands glide to your thighs, hoisting you above the counter with no hesitation. He whips around, reaching over to the door. You hear a click, signalling the fact he had locked the door. You were really alone now.

He leaves kisses along your neck, and your breath hitches when his lips find exactly where you’re sensitive the most: your pulse point. He leaves an open mouthed kiss there before working his way up to your lips, where he smashes his against yours, mushing them together as his hands find the sides of your face, yours grabbing his biceps with all the energy you can.

Your legs open wider, inviting him closer to your body as you cage him in, ankles looped around each other.

“Need you, Wonnie.” You sigh out in between the kiss. He pulls away, eyes trained o to yours, panting.

“How so?” He continues to nibble down your neck, hearing you pant like a needy dog.

You pull your hands away from his arms, dragging them lower between your legs, palming his growing erection through his pants. His breath hitches, and he groans, his head falling back slightly.

“I can’t wait.” His movements become more hurried, as he lifts your skirt to your hips, serving more as a belt then it’s proper use. His right hand comes into contact with your heat, his fingers swiping your panties away from your folds, gliding his index and centre finger along your slit, applying pressure to your clit.

Quiet gasps leave from your throat, and you rest your head against the mirror, mouth gaping when Jungwon slides his two fingers in, scissoring open your greedy hole.

“Feels good?” Jungwon asks you in your ear. You nod, earning a pinch on your thigh. “Words, or I stop.”

“Yes, feels so—“ a high pitched moan elicits from your puffy lips as a third finger is added, his thumb working finger eights on your clit. “Right fucking there—oh shit.” You succumb to the knot tightening when Jungwon’s fingers pad the spongy goodness deep inside your pussy.

“God, you’re going to be the death of me.” Jungwon sighs, before sliding his fingers out. You whine at the loss, but Jungwon stares at you, silently telling you to wait.

His hands find his buttons to his jeans, and he tweaks around them before undoing the buttons and zip. He reaches into his boxers, fishing his unit out.

He drags his tip along your folds, teasing you. “You want it?” He asks you, eyes boring into yours, daring you to admit it.

“Yes—give it to me. Give it all to me, god, please.” You beg, hands squeezing your own thighs in desperation.

“Are you sure?” He continues, a sly smirk dancing on his tongue.

“Fuck, please! Jungwon, just fuck me. Fuck me stupid with your cock…please..” you’re shy, and Jungwon finds it cute.

“Only because you asked so nicely.” He angles his tip right in front of your gaping pussy, sliding in slowly. Your hands find his shoulders, holding onto them for dear life as his big cock drives deeper inside you.

You both collectively let out a content sigh as Jungwon bottoms out, snug inside as he rests deep in your stomach.

His palm presses on the bulge, and you can’t help but whimper, thighs shaking. “Feel me? Feel me deep inside you?” His voice itself is shaky, control teetering to its edge. “Fuck, you’re so tight.”

“Please…move. Come on, Wonnie.” He doesn’t need to be told twice. He maneuvers your hips to the edge of the bench, a new angle reaching him impossibly deeper as he slowly moves, bringing his hips back to the point his tip almost slips out, before slamming back inside.

“Fuck, baby. Taking my big dick so well.” Minute by minute, pieces of his resolve shatters, utterly losing himself within your wet, tight warmth, inviting him inside so deeply he can’t help but become vocal. His whines escape his mouth without much hesitation, and his head leans back in immense pleasure.

Your eyes roll back as his dick reaches further points you didn’t know even existed, and you feel so utterly full it’s overstimulating in the most delicious way possible.

“I love your pussy so much.” And you could tell, due to the quick pace his hips followed.

You lifted your legs, so your feet rested on the bench, completely open. Jungwon holds your calves, placing them on his shoulders as he pounds into you, the sound of his balls slapping against your skin prominent isn’t eh room, allowing whoever was outside the door to know what is really taking place in this bathroom.

“You’re so—big.” You find difficulty speaking, air short in your lungs as you experience jaw dropping sex.

“Fuck, you’re pussy was made for me. Squeezing me so tight and tight, like it was formed for my fucking cock.” His words bring you even closer to your long awaited orgasm, a tight ball forming in your abdomen. “Tell me who this pussy belongs to.”

“You—fuck, it belongs to you.” You answer straight away, eyes fluttering shut as you feel yourself teetering to the edge of what will be a delicious climax. “I’m close.” You breathe out, desperation flooding you.

“Me too. Where do you want it?” Jungwon asks, referring to his fluid.

Your eyes open, and you stare into his soul when you say, “Inside. Cum inside and fuck a baby in me.”

Jungwon swears he could cum then and there. He only chuckles, hands coming to your throat, where he thrusts up to your g-spot, overstimulating the pleasure on your spongy goodness, dragging you super close to your orgasm.

“Fuck, you’re so perfect for me. Want me fucking babies? Turn you into a mama?” You clench hard against his thick shaft, and he groans. “You got so fucking tight—you want that? I bet you fucking do. You’re just my little fucking cumslut, aren’t you?”

“Your fucking cumslut. God, Jungwon. I’m about to cum.” You announce, and your arms loop around his neck, pulling him as close as possible as your legs wrap around his waist, keeping him right where he belongs. “Let me cum, pleasepleasepleaseplease.”

One of his hands unwrap themselves from your throat, sneaking its way down to your neglected clit, and he aggressively rubs the fuck out of it, bringing you to your long awaited climax.

It feels as if your clit explodes, waves upon waves upon waves of pure ecstasy flow through your body, creating a tremble you can’t shake as your legs quiver on his shoulders, thighs shaking in sensitivity. Your mouth grows more hoarse as more and more moans escape from your chest, and your eyes squint closed as Jungwon rides out your orgasm, thrusting into you with no mercy.

“I‘m gonna cum. Deep—“ thrust. “Inside—“ thrust. “You’re fucking pussy.” He punctuates each word until he creams inside you, ejaculating his hot seed deep inside your womb, and he shoves his head into the crook of your neck as he rides his own orgasm, overseeing the sensitivity it brings you.

Heavy pants fill the comfortable silence, as you both catch your breaths.

“I meant what I said.” Jungwon is the first to speak.

“What, that my pussy was made for your cock?” You answer, watching as he shoves his softened dick back into his boxers, zipping and buttoning them back on properly.

“That, and, that I want you. And not just sexually. I want you romantically. I want you to be mine. To be mine to love, to admire and mine to fuck. I want you so bad, that I forget myself sometimes deep in though about you.”

“Jungwon, you’ve always had me. I’ve always been yours.”

“Are you officially mine?”

“If I can?” You answer his question with your own.

“Please.”

I SUCK BALLS AT ENDINGS

perm taglist : @jyikeu @goldenretrieverjakezgirlbaby

@17ericas

#enhypen imagines #enhypen smut #enhypen hard thoughts #enhypen #enhypen fic #nodoubtily #anon ask #Jungwon #enhypen jungwon smut #jungwon smut

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seiwas · 1 year ago

Text

₊˚⊹。so this is what it means to be in love | gojo satoru

wc: 8.9k

summary: gojo finds out what it really means to be in love.

contains: f!reader in mind, friends to lovers (prev. slowburn), suggestive scenes, might be mature/mildly explicit? (i only mention ‘butt’ once though…), ‘being in love’ as a journey, almost like a falls in love first (you) vs. falls in love harder (gojo), they fight, they��swear, character death/s mentioned, shibuya onwards spoilers, lots and lots and lots of love

a/n: this is better read after the other parts in the collection but can work as a stand alone too!, there’s a jump between this and tell me about love (show me how) so gojo would have developed a lot in the relationship since then!

collection masterlist: conversations on love +02 (extra). look my way, you're what i crave <- you are here + (extended scene) too good to be mine -> 3.5a. this feeling inside of me—

MINORS PLEASE DO NOT INTERACT.

this is a re-upload! (because i accidentally deleted the original one!)

Gojo catches onto love slowly.

He takes the hand you leave open just for him, and closes the space between your palms, reducing infinity.

Maybe he’s felt it all this time without knowing; after all, love looks a lot less profound as friends in your early 20’s.

But being in it—being in love? That’s uncharted territory.

Gojo’s been to a lot of places, has travelled back and forth from point-to-point endlessly. He’s survived battles, a war, near-death, and cursed spirits reincarnate; he’s got eyes—two bright blue and an extra four hidden, ones that see beyond human comprehension. Unearthing this simple truth shouldn’t shake him, shouldn’t even faze him. If anything, he should have seen it coming—

Except, he doesn’t.

It sneaks up on him, bit by bit, until he finds that being in love means getting to experience you all over again, just differently.

It starts with the little things.

Gojo has known you for so long (a decade and a few years more), but has only recently begun to notice everything: how your baby hairs stick out in the humidity of summer, the way you purse your lips in thought before finally deciding on a drink to order. You play with your fingernails subconsciously, out of habit, the soft taps on your nail beds an accompaniment of anxious conversations you’ve had since you were 23.

He knows you always blink twice before focusing on him, and it’s a mystery whether this is a recent development or something he’s just never noticed, but if you’re trying to enchant him by the flutter of your eyelashes, he wants to let you know that it’s working—except, he knows that you aren’t, because you’re just like that: a daydream without even trying.

These aren’t new things; he’s sure he’s probably encountered them all before, but lately they’ve evolved into cute things, and there’s no hiding the slight curve of his lips every time he spots them.

The sun is beaming brighter this summer, the ocean a faraway blur from the beach towel you set up under the shade. Going to the beach is never your go-to when you think of an extremely hot afternoon, but Yuuji’s been eyeing a weekend getaway since sorcerer work’s lessened significantly.

‘It’s a good effort,’ Gojo convinces you, ‘to get everyone together again.’

And it is—you see it now: Yuuji and Megumi preparing to fling Yuuta into the water while Nobara and Maki race along the shoreline. Toge stays close to Panda but he watches fondly, eyes crinkling every now and then, happy.

When you blink, the image of them softens—a captured memory in the heat haze.

The only older ones here are you and Gojo; Shoko’s always disliked the stickiness of sunblock on her skin, and Ijichi’s new position has made him constantly busy. Somewhere in the distance, you can maybe envision Nanami. He wouldn’t come if you or Gojo asked, but if it were Yuuji—

You rub at your eye, resting your chin on your hand as you will your tear ducts to please, don’t cry.

Yuuji's been smiling a lot more lately, an observation you note from the way his ears are perked up every time you look his way. It’ll never be the same as it used to be but it’s relieving to know that he can exist living as himself now. Just Yuuji.

You hug your knees tighter to your chest, wrapping your arms around it. Your place under the coconut tree provides ample enough shade but your back still burns from Gojo haphazardly slathering sunscreen on it after hearing an ice cream stand from miles away.

The mind is a weird place to be at times like this—split into bittersweet reminiscing and telling yourself to just take this moment and breathe, to live in it. You think about Megumi, and how you hurt for him, always will, for all that he’s lost despite every attempt to avoid it.

You should have been there for Tsumiki, you could have been there for both of them.

Your guilt never leaves you even on days that shine as vividly as this, but perhaps that’s the silver lining—that they’re still with you, always. You can carry pieces of them to these places, and scatter them to the wind, to the sand, to the sea, and maybe to the ice cream stand Gojo’s waiting in line of, surrounded entirely by kids. They all rise to half his size, but if you squint, you think the bounce in his step makes him blend right in.

A chuckle escapes you.

You could sort through your memories and land on one where he looks just like this—freakishly large limbs towering over a tiny, excited Tsumiki. Back then, an ice cream stop after school consisted of your pseudo-family of four, with Megumi on your hand and Tsumiki on his leg, both gripping tightly to combat a chilly 10°C.

Things are different now, evidently. Megumi’s outgrown it, and Tsumiki is no longer here. But Gojo has stayed the same, and it’s comforting to know that he will continue to be this Satoru, your Satoru, even when some things are gone.

You don’t realize you’ve spaced out until he waves the ice cream cone while walking towards you.

Gojo is a sight in trunks the color of his eyes, with seahorses and starfishes in an alternating pattern of peachy-pink against cerulean blue.

You could have sworn you asked for your own cone, but he plops down beside you holding only one. For the both of you. The side-eye you give him is almost criminal, if not deadly, but your lips twitch from the smile you’re hiding (terribly).

He raises an eyebrow and you break character, shaking your head while laughing.

“Did you eat the other one on the way here?” you tease, craning your neck to lick at the bottom scoop (vanilla-strawberry-vanilla, Gojo’s signature order).

Your tongue lands dangerously close to his fingers, and he feels it, but his eyes only land on you—your lips, how they part for your tongue to glide smoothly on his–both of your–dessert. You look every bit of an angel in the soft, pale hues of your bikini, but Gojo’s thoughts are anything but saintly.

He blushes furiously, the tips of his ears and nose bright red as he turns away from you quickly.

“I’m fulfilling your dream of sharing an ice cream cone with me.” he tilts his chin up, proud, smirking slightly. He jokes about it knowing full well that this is his dream come true, just by the look of you.

You stay quiet, rolling your eyes but never meanly, no. You only ever do it fondly—he knows, being on the receiving end of it one too many times.

The beach towel scrunches when you scoot closer, looping your arm around his as you both rest your elbows on your knees. Gojo holds the cone between you two, tipping it towards you when it’s your turn to lick.

He shouldn’t stare, shouldn’t hyperfixate, but it’s so cute how you get the tiniest bit of ice cream on the tip of your nose—as if it belongs there, soft and sweet just like the rest of you.

You look up to find Gojo gazing at you, eyes glimmering like sunlight on the ocean, and a tiny smile that only widens when he realizes you’ve caught him red-handed. Your eyes narrow suspiciously, scrunching your nose in an effort to stop yourself from grinning.

When Gojo looks at you this way, as if you are his favorite place rediscovered, your heart thumps furiously against your ribcage.

“What…” you drawl, your smile impossible to hide in the lilt of your voice.

Gojo thinks he can count every eyelash, every speck of sand dotting your face, and stil not be bored of you. He can’t stop beaming.

Is this what it means to be in love with you?

“Nothing.” he replies, almost giggling, a little bashful but with every inch of sincerity. You know that smile, the only one that holds every ounce of Satoru. Gojo smiles big and wide to everyone else, but this small one you know, is reserved just for you.

He leans in, lips coming closer to brush against the tip of your nose. Your eyes fall shut, instinctively, and the pink dot is wiped clean, a hint of strawberry dancing on his palate. He’s done this more times than he can count, has gotten this near to know that close will never be close enough, but you still jolt a bit—PDA has never been your thing.

When he pulls away, you continue to stare at each other, locked in a gaze until the ice cream begins to drip down his fingers and onto the beach towel. It misses his trunks by a hair and you both laugh at how he belatedly tries to escape it even though it’s already there.

It’s indescribable, this moment, seeing you in slow motion, laughing as bright as the sun—the sweetest sound he’s ever heard. It takes every bit of him to look away so he can wipe his hands clean from the dripping dessert.

You hand him a packet of wipes and beckon him to sit in front of you after. Squeezed onto the palm of your hand is a copious amount of sunscreen you plan to slather all over him. A touch-up, if you will.

Gojo has sensitive skin, pale as bond paper and burns just as quickly. The high points of his face are already reddening, warm to the touch when you dab at them with sunscreen.

You’re so near, so close, sitting cross-legged in front of him with your knees touching his. The tip of your tongue sticks out just slightly as you focus on his skin.

Even though he knows, he still wonders what your lips would taste like, SPF chapstick and crumbly bits from the wafer cone. He wonders what your eyelashes would feel like, fluttering over his own.

The light casts a halo around you and he thinks it’s fitting for all that you do. You pamper him like this, slather love all over his chest and back, massage it in so it dissolves into him—and he feels it so deep that he tastes it.

How can your love be so sweet? He thinks, sighing as your fingers work sunscreen up his neck from his collarbone. You always apply his skincare like this: upwards, gently—‘no tugging, please!’—something about keeping his baby face even when he’s old.

“You should join them,” you mumble, rubbing more product onto the nape of his neck. You’re leaning over his shoulder, neck brushed against his cheek.

Gojo hums, watching everyone from a distance. It’s been a while since he’s had a day like this.

“But maybe after 30 minutes, so the sunblock doesn’t wash off. You’re already burning.” you note, coming back to sit.

Of course, he’s already burning. How can he not when the sun is right in front of him?

You join everyone for a game of beach volleyball in the sunset of the afternoon. You’re transported back to high school, the last time you did this—you and Satoru against Shoko and Suguru, with Haibara keeping score.

From the way Gojo’s eyes are glossed over, you can tell he’s thinking about it too, the memory having seared itself into your brains forever, it seems.

Being paired together should feel familiar—the same, but it doesn’t—isn’t, because Gojo can’t concentrate, sneaking glances to notice all the little things about you that he never used to. Your skin shines from the combination of sweat and sunscreen, and when you crash into him it’s both sticky and slippery. He should really ask for a time-out before you blind him completely.

You look unfairly good in your bikini, too good he can barely hear you calling for him; between the ocean and his blood rushing, any other sound is drowned out into nothing.

Maki and Yuuji absolutely demolish the both of you, reaching 15 first in the final set. Gojo blames the loss on you of course, even though he’s missed every pass you’ve sent his way and netted 60% of his spikes.

And maybe it technically is your fault—you and your (very distracting) little things. But it’s entirely on him that he’s fallen for it, fallen for you as much as this.

Gojo thinks of love differently when he sees a picture of himself and all it does is remind him of you.

There’s a photo tucked safely in his wallet (saved and set as his homescreen too). Shoko snorts when she walks in on him printing it, all six-foot-three of him hunched over the small inkjet printer in the faculty room.

“It’s all digital now, Satoru,” she scoffs, taking a puff on her cigarette.

Gojo doesn’t say anything even though he knows it’s true, too focused on watching the printer push out the two-by-three inch image he’s about to cut into.

Print photos aren’t as important anymore when cloud storage spaces are just as–if not more–accessible, but Gojo is admittedly sentimental despite every front he puts up to hide it.

He’s kept every single gift you’ve given him and camouflaged it as decoration in his office, and the family drawing 10-year-old Tsumiki made is still folded between the pages of a self-help book Yaga had given him when he first decided to teach.

When every moment is experienced so vividly, seen through a muddle of infinite energies, there are those he wishes could stay still—ones that take up space to remind him: ‘this is real, it happened, and here is proof that it did’.

He already has one of all of you, fresh-faced and barely pushing the peaks of youth at 16. A tangle of arms wrapped around each other—one of his gripping tightly on Suguru, and the other hanging loosely over you. Utahime is crouched in front, holding the hand you’ve placed on her shoulder while pulling Shoko into a semi-squish-semi-hug (because out of the four of you, Shoko is her favorite—completely valid; if given the choice, she’d be your favorite too). Nanami and Haibara stay close to Suguru, squatting low to balance the photo, and Haibara is smiling, the ever cheery grin Suguru loves to dote on, while Nanami is Nanami—sharp features and a serious gaze that you all know he’ll grow into someday, handsome with age.

For the longest time, Gojo has kept that photo hidden, locked away in the drawer of his bedside table as if keeping it there means the memory will stay guarded forever—untouched, unspoiled, unruined.

It would have stayed there if you didn’t stumble upon it while looking for his painkillers during another one of his skull-crushing migraines.

You approach him with the image hesitantly, eyes damp and glossy. Years have faded the colors ever so slightly, but the corners remain crisp from being stowed away neatly. You say sorry, that you shouldn’t have looked through his things, but you remember the moment it was taken so fondly: a visit to the Kyoto campus on a one-day break to train with other students.

Gojo has many theories about time and the multitude of spaces it takes—like how a person can exist at different points in time, disparate at each instance, and still take up the same big chunk of space. The opposite can be true too, that someone can live finitely (just once) and occupy spaces in every place you look: the face of a passerby down the road, a sign at the corner of the street, or even a photograph that immortalizes people you once knew.

He only shares when you ask, aware that he tends to be a bit of a nerd about it whenever it’s brought up, but you don't mind. You like listening to it all, no matter how insightful or confusing they are for you to make sense—a version of him not many get to witness. His explanations are comprehensible for the most part, except—

When Gojo tells you that he’s kept the image in his drawer, hidden, because exposing it to the space-time that exists now will erase every reminder that it ever happened, you hug him tightly.

Your sniffles are heard from the way his head is tucked into the crook of your neck, your fingers gripping strands of his hair in empathy.

He considers your near-tears as a sign that the memory is long gone, decayed into the brittling tragedy of reality. But you smile, the corners of your lips bittersweet as you express disbelief that he’s kept it all this time.

You tell him delicately that some precious things are meant to be celebrated, put out to be remembered—to be experienced.

And it becomes clearer to him then, by the look in your eyes and remembrance soft-spoken, that what good is a photo unseen?

What good is a love unwitnessed?

When you gift him a frame a year after finding the photo, he hangs it by the wall next to his office door. The image is painful to look at, always has been (even when it was hidden in his drawer)—during Suguru’s defection, and death anniversaries especially.

The recent one for Nanami was heavy; the first time he’s ever been able to process grief fully.

Gojo can argue that it grows more difficult every time he catches a glimpse of it from his desk, but you have a way of honoring pain that doesn’t make it sting as bad—that turns it into a reminder of a love that was once there, of feelings that hurt as evidence that someone cared.

Now, he wants another photo printed, one of just the two of you. Not because it hurts, but because he wants this precious thing to be remembered and seen—for this love to be witnessed too.

It’s self-timered, snapped under the shade of a cherry blossom tree in full bloom. The picture is far from perfect: your eyes bright and mouth open mid-fear of his phone falling off the bridge railing.

You may look a teensy bit funny, but Gojo will always find it cute. Anyone can see it, at how he looks at you in that moment—like you are every bit worthy of the distance travelled and seasons waited. He gazes at you fondly, eyes holding clear skies and pink lips curling into a small smile.

It’s cheesy, but if you ask him what he thinks about this year’s flowers, he’ll tell you none of them (not even any of them combined) could compare to you. The cherry blossoms could be gone and he’d still see them everywhere (in the softness of your lips, the fullness of your cheeks, the radiance you emit when you are truly, solely content and happy).

He remembers that afternoon well: the spring breeze that jolts his phone sideways, his hand resting on your lower back, unseen in the image. There’s no real reason for visiting the blossoms on this day of all days, but Gojo doesn’t believe in coincidences, and he’s counted down exactly to a year since you both had your first kiss.

It’s so silly, because he’s never thought of things like this before. He knows you probably don’t think much of it either considering that neither of you have made anything official yet since.

And he feels a little stupid for that, honestly.

You have a drawer of his clothes for the nights he stays over (more often than not), and even though you go on these little trips that are so obviously dates, you both still just tell everyone you’re ‘hanging out’.

He’s not fooling anyone here, not when he looks at you then with the feeling of his chest expanding, stretching to accommodate the overflows of his affection since learning the ways to love you—tenderness caught in little pixels of eternity.

When Gojo goes through all 179 photos from that afternoon, he filters out the ones to delete and picks this one out especially—favorites and resizes it to fit his home screen and his wallet too.

There’s something about the look on his face that reminds him of every time he’s caught the same one on you.

He slides the photo into the little sleeve behind his credit card, catching himself smiling—this must be because of you, he thinks, and the bits and pieces of yourself that have somehow become part of him slowly, sneaking into him unknowingly.

If this is what it means to be in love, with you, then he’s fucked.

Don’t you know that he’s insatiable? These traces of you will only make him want the whole of you.

You find the photo while he rushes to the restaurant restroom. On ‘hang out’s like this, you insist on splitting the bill, but Gojo has always been stubborn and you’ve learned that you can never argue.

He hands you his wallet to pay with his card, and when you slide it out, the photo falls. It’s face down on the floor when you pick it up, fully expecting it to be a photocard of some idol you know Gojo follows.

But it isn’t, and your smile widens.

When Gojo comes back, you’re looking up at him affectionately, biting your lips as if to stop yourself from speaking—the same way he always does.

It’s funny because, slotted between your two fingers is the photo he’s kind of flustered you found, but he has no time to be embarrassed when he sees a little bit of himself in the way you’re staring at him right now.

“So, Yuuji asked if we were together.”

You quirk an eyebrow, looking up at Gojo from the pile of laundry you’ve begun folding on your bed. He emerges from the bathroom, ruffling his hair with a towel.

Over the past year, Gojo has spent his weekends off with you, sleeping over and traipsing around your room in his pajama set as if he’s lived here just as long as you.

You snort as you fold, amused that this is even a question to begin with. Yuuji’s always been known for being exceptionally dense, but you didn’t think it was this bad. Gojo was especially touchy with you during that beach trip, and you’re sure Megumi and Nobara have caught up to let him know by now, somehow.

“What made him ask?”

“I think he wants to take you away.” Gojo teases, wiggling his eyebrows as he throws the towel on the chair across your vanity.

You roll your eyes, still sweetly, indulging him, “Sure.”

It’s now a running joke that Gojo’s threatened about Yuuji stealing you; you’ve always had a soft spot for bright eyes and even brighter souls and Yuuji is as close to that as anyone can get.

It’s not like that though, it could never be; Yuuji is just like your Megumi—the two boys you want to protect and care for in hopes of treating them better than their lives have ever.

Gojo feels the same, you know, otherwise he wouldn’t have guided them as much as he has (despite his... questionable ways). Still, your hands have always been gentler, kinder—and though shorter, have always outstretched much farther than his.

You have a way of inching yourself into people’s lives that just fits. He’s experienced it first-hand, can’t even dare to imagine what his life would be like if you didn’t.

He walks across the room to you, bed dipping as he steadies a knee before draping his entire body over your shoulders.

Now that you think about it, it makes sense that Yuuji’s confused, because Gojo has always been extremely touchy to everyone, just never when the feelings mattered, with you. Kiss him once, though, and it snowballs into an avalanche of firsts. And what he’s about to do right now, he thinks, might just trigger another one to form all together.

“As if I’d let him.” he mumbles right by your ear, chin tucked by the crook of your neck. It tickles when he speaks, his nose poking at your cheeks.

“Who put you in charge?” you scoff jokingly, unfazed.

He moves away from you in disbelief, mouth open as he stares at you mindlessly folding.

To be fair, he can’t fault you. You aren’t technically official even though you have kind-of-been for a little over a year. There’s no particular reason, just that you haven’t talked about it—part because you wanted him to approach it whenever he was ready, and also, because it just never seemed like a priority.

You laugh as he stares at you, stunned into silence, the pout on his face borrowed from all the versions of yours.

There’s no point of contention because you’ve only ever loved Gojo since you were 17.

“Kidding,” you kiss his cheek as an apology.

“Don’t even joke about that.” he huffs, you’re starting to take after him a little too much.

“You’re mine.” he murmurs after, arms wrapped around your waist and legs stretched out wide to encase you.

He says it as if it is the simplest truth.

Your heartbeat quickens, too loud and pounding; this is the first time you’ve ever heard this from him, and a part of you thinks this is just another one of those flirty side-comments he makes on a whim.

“You tell him that?” you hope he can’t hear your voice shake as he nuzzles your neck, your fingers trembling on the pair of socks you have yet to roll.

He hums, hugging you tighter. He waits for you to finish folding before letting you lean against him, offering his fingers for you to fiddle with. They’re cold, long and slender, veiny just by a bit, and he always gives them to you like they’re yours, you like to think.

There’s an inhale, a breath of hesitation, before he exhales.

“Something like it.”

You don’t say anything, only nod, and it’s nerve-wracking. He’s so nervous even though he knows he doesn’t have to be because it’s just you. And there’s no need to doubt what you’re feeling. But—

“You are though,” he pauses, “right?”

He has to be sure. This is a testament to you more than himself that he’s learned to ask instead of bulldozing you like he does with everyone else. Who else will he pick that up from but you?

There’s hesitation you hear that you think shouldn’t be there anymore; the fact that you’ve given so much of yourself to this man and he still thinks you’re unsure—

“‘Cause I’m yours.” he speaks, clearly, definitively, before you can even answer. And you know—you’ve known ever since that party years ago. A simple admittance: ‘I’m taken’.

You turn around to face him, eyes shimmering.

Can he see? You’re meant for him only.

All you’ve ever wanted was to love him; everything else he’s done up until this point is already more than you could ever imagine. The labels can only do so much to capture the gravity of what you are to one another: years of history unpacked into a mishmash of feelings overlapping—it’s a lot.

You sit cross legged in front of him, your knees touching his. He’s biting his lips again, an anxious habit you want to kiss away.

Gojo has proven far too much of himself already that he’s serious with you—your kind-of-confession, that confrontation, and the days after, all the ways you’ve both learned to love each other.

You cup his cheeks.

A single word cannot possibly define what he is to you.

“I mean, o-only if you want me to be.” he adds on, blue eyes darting back and forth.

Gojo runs his mouth almost all the time and you’ve never heard him stutter once in his life. Except now.

He’s endearing like this—a version of him you are slowly discovering.

“Wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.” you finally say, and it’s a relief.

He feels good, releasing a breath he didn’t know he was holding. His arms pull you closer, hugging you tighter as you both smile.

He kisses you once, twice, maybe a million times all over, travelling across your eyelids, the center of your forehead, down to the corners of your mouth before landing a real one right on your lips.

Gojo always looks pretty but he looks prettiest like this, worry-free, with love in his eyes and nothing but pure happiness in the way he holds you.

He won’t tell you that Yuuji asked about your anniversary, not if you were together.

At least now he has an answer.

Gojo stares at you like he wants to say something, a thank you maybe, but he bites his lips instead. No words will ever amount to this feeling, he thinks, of his chest expanding and heart hammering. So he kisses you with all of it, trailing soft smacks of his lips down your neck, tickling. The tips of his hair are still wet from his shower, leaving droplets on your skin as he nips.

You laugh—sprinkled in love.

“S-stop!” you push him away, “Satoru,” giggling, “tickles!”

“We have to consummate it now.” he whispers, grabbing you by the waist to place you on his lap, squeezing your sides while nibbling at your neck playfully.

You roll your eyes at his antics, “It’s not–” you laugh out loud when he pinches your hips, “–marriage, Satoru.”

Oh, if only you knew, he thinks.

The image you’ve planted in his head is dangerous when he’s this drunk on love right now.

More decades, more years spent with you? In another life, or maybe even in this one, if time permits, he wouldn’t mind making that come true.

It’s crazy how much things can change—for all his life, he’s ruled out the possibility of love ever taking root in his ribcage.

You’ve managed to make it feel so easy, so good, even when he was shit-terrified not knowing how to love you like he should.

Now, he thinks, how could he ever miss out on love this way? A love this good, with you?

For all of Gojo’s life, he’s never had to be anyone else—always the strongest, the only one. He’s never had to change anything about himself, because what’s there to improve when you’re already the best?

In a way, this is why it works with you. You’ve taken him as he is, all the good and ugly and never asked for anything more than what he can give.

But being this in love with you—it’s foreign. There are pieces within him shifting, all on their own without him knowing.

How he wants to be better, for you. To be good enough to deserve all of it, and give back more of it too.

Gojo doesn’t realize how much love has changed him until he feels it uprooting every insecurity he never even knew existed, pulling it all up to the surface.

When things are going great, it’s hard to imagine them ever going the other way.

“You don’t mean that.” you mumble, voice trembling.

Gojo stares at you, at your lips quivering and the fists clenched to your sides. There are tears collecting in pools by your eyes, and if there’s anything else he hates in this world, it’s seeing you cry.

So why?

Why couldn’t he just shut up?

“Please tell me you don’t mean that,” you take a step closer, gripping the edge of his jacket, “Satoru.” your voice cracks, begging.

It’s an out-of-body experience when Gojo registers that he’s fucked up, and he sees himself now, bird’s-eye-view, and thinks this is the worst thing he could do to you after all you’ve been through.

“I need some time to think,” he says, finally, the only words coming out of his mouth—but he can’t hear himself speaking.

He should have said sorry, taken it all back, he thinks, not make it worse by leaving.

He heads for the door, heart crunching under each footstep away from you.

Is this what being in love’s supposed to do? Break his heart while yours is bleeding?

You’re too good for Gojo, in every sense of the word—and he knows it.

You are far too kind, far too generous, far too patient with him. You give him more love than he deserves, definitely, and admittedly enough, with how he is, you have been settling for the bare minimum but that’s on him, not on you.

He had no right speaking to you the way he did, hurting you with accusations born from insecurities he’s never before had to deal with.

He knows it.

Who accuses you of ‘meddling’ as if everything out of you doesn’t come from the goodness of your heart? Of provoking you with ‘chasing the bare minimum’ as if he isn’t aware that that’s all he’s given you to work with?

Utahime was right in telling you to be careful with him, and he doesn’t blame her for it. He would have done the same.

He should have told you there was something brewing inside of him already—should have talked to you instead of bursting from all the things people have been saying lately.

Gojo hasn’t spoken to you in three days and the feeling this compares to is worse than anything else he’s ever had to face.

He knocks on your door at night, a little past dinner and too early for bedtime. They echo loudly within the walls of your apartment, and you drag yourself up despite your obvious look of heartbreak.

Gojo hears your footsteps and everything moves entirely too slowly; the lock, taking far too long to turn, the gap between the door and the door frame widening incrementally. Even your face comes into view as if in stop motion, frame-by-frame, gradually.

His hands are in his pockets, lips bitten to bleed. He’s pretty sure he isn’t breathing when he takes you in—puffy eyes and a sweater that belongs to him.

(Is it sick of him to say that he still finds you beautiful this way? Even when you look every bit the part of heartache?)

Gojo didn’t have a plan coming here, didn’t have a list of things to say, just the feeling that he needed to talk to you, see you, even just be around you today.

When your eyes meet, it’s quiet. You stare into him for one–two–three– (Can you tell that they’re watery? Can you see they’re puffed up too?) and then open the door wider to let him in. You head straight to the kitchen, never once looking back while dragging your feet.

He stands outside a few seconds more, waiting for you to take it back—but you don’t, so he walks in and closes the door.

He’s been in your apartment plenty of times before, has practically lived in it by how often he stays over. But this is the first time he’s felt wholly out of place, not knowing where to put himself, just standing in the space between your kitchen counter and the living room awkwardly.

You push a glass of water towards him and he can’t stop staring at it—at you, at your fingers that he wants nothing more now but to hold.

Even with all his faults, all his wrongs, you open your arms for him to walk into, allow him in as if he didn’t just hurt you.

And he wants to cry, at the fact that this place still feels like home, at how it’ll always feel that way wherever you go.

How are you still treating him so kindly? Still taking care of him? A glass of water is one too many for someone like him.

You turn away from him to pour yourself your own then he speaks—

“You should be angry with me.” Gojo says softly, but you hear it.

You pause, tilting the pitcher back upright.

“Why aren’t you angry at me?” he says, a little louder this time, more desperate, more pleading.

Why are you never angry at me? he wants to ask.

You turn around to face him, putting the pitcher down.

Under your kitchen lights, his eyes shine like sunlight on the ocean, waves lapping on the shore. You think it might be a trick of the light, but his lips tremble when he closes them, as if he can’t speak any more.

It’s just as you’ve said, there’s no point being angry with him when your heart can never take it.

You always give Gojo the benefit of the doubt, and though he’s hurt you—though this might be the most painful thing he’s told you yet, you know that he’s been under immense pressure lately. Stressed beyond belief from negotiating with the government on policies for jujutsu society.

It’s not an excuse, you know, but Gojo always has his reasons. He'll tell you eventually, you believe that much.

You give him a sad smile, struggling to stop your tears from spilling. His fists are clenched too tightly, nails digging in hard enough to bleed. He hasn’t moved since coming in, so you push yourself off the kitchen sink towards him.

You take his hands first, unfurl each finger pressed upon his palm and rub gently. He cries quietly for a love so pure that only you would attempt to ease his hurt despite the pain he’s dealt you.

You tiptoe second, pulling the sleeves of your (his) sweater before reaching up to wipe his eyes—beautiful and blue just like you’ve always known, droplets of the ocean at your fingertips.

“Be mad,” he whispers, “please.” squeezing his eyes tightly.

It hurts more when you aren’t, he thinks.

His hand comes up to grip your wrist, bringing it down to cup his cheek. You stroke your thumb across his skin, soothing, loving, and that’s all it takes for him to pull you in. He hugs you tight, arms wrapped around you, clutching.

He wouldn’t deserve you. In any life.

Gojo’s never cried this much before, head pressed to your neck as you rub circles along his back, shushing him softly. You start sniffling too, small at first until it turns into soft hiccups when you finally cry.

Your grip on him tightens.

“‘M sorry.” he mumbles, lips moving against your neck.

“‘S–” you hiccup, “–okay.”

“Stop saying that when it’s not,” he presses against you, nuzzling your neck, “I hurt you.”

“Then don’t–” another hiccup, “–call yourself–” hic, “–bare minimum.” you cry harder.

Gojo knows your heart and the tears that leak out of your eyes; he knows they hold pain for more than just yourself but every single person in your life. You, crying now, is evidence of that truth—shedding tears for him not just because of him when he thinks he’s the bare minimum.

This must be what it means to be truly, deeply loved, he thinks, to have someone know what you mean without even having to speak it—to know your heart, and all the good and bad parts of it.

“I don’t think I’m good enough to you,” he admits, pulling himself away from you.

When he sees your face, wet, with your nose and eyes puffed up from crying, he decides that he hates it more than anything else. Makes it sick to his stomach, even.

He cradles your cheeks, thumbs wiping away your tears. A whole hand of his could cover your face entirely, but he always, without fail, holds you delicately.

“That’s not–” hic, “–true.” you gather your breathing, holding him by the wrists as he presses his forehead against yours. “Only I get to decide that. Not anyone, not you.”

You kiss his lips, a small peck before nudging his nose with yours. You soothe each other this way—in the quiet, swaying to your own tune.

“You’re good to me plenty, Satoru.” you whisper, once both of you have settled.

He opens his eyes to look at you, smiling sadly as he cradles your face, “I didn’t mean it.”

Whatever he told you that day, taking it all out on you.

“I know.” you mumble, nodding.

You always do.

Gojo has always loved you, in some type of way—as friends, colleagues, a-little-bit-more-but-less-than what you are today.

But how he feels right now? It’s kind of ridiculous, borderline out-of-hand, and it’s driving him insane.

It’s such a simple, ordinary thing for you to do: you rush up to him, phone in hand and scroll to some video you found online. You’re so excited, a bounce in your step as if he’s the first and only person you want to show this to. Your eyes shine bright with a megawatt smile to match, and you’re talking so, so fast, completely lit up like fireworks in the making.

He knows you think that he’s listening but, he couldn’t care less about it honestly. Sorry. Not when the words go in one ear and out the other, because all that registers is how adorable you are, giddy and everything.

He makes a joke—completely unrelated, but you find it so funny. Then you’re laughing, full on smacking his arm, doubled over, arms hugging your stomach, guffawing. Your feet are kicking the air as you sink deeper into your couch. Gojo’s standing in front of you, post-enactment of some impression he made, and he’s frozen in place but warm all over.

Seeing you laugh like this, smile like this, being so pretty when you’re happy, the pounding in his chest goes crazy.

This isn’t the first time he’s made you laugh; he does it all the time. You almost always roll your eyes and chuckle, sometimes giggle with your eyes squinting and laugh lines creasing. But it might be the first time it’s like this: with you so bright, more than the sun and every other star in the sky.

And he thinks, this is all he could ever want—to make you happy for the rest of his life.

There’s too much of this feeling inside of him, clawing at his throat, itching to get out. He’s filled with it, has been filled with it for so long that it’s starting to overflow and if he doesn’t say this now he might just—

“I’m so in love with you.”

Gojo breathes it out, as if finally releasing it after all this time. You don’t think he processes it because he just stands there, in the middle of your living room, staring at you.

Your laughter dies with maybe a little part of you too (in a good way).

He looks so sweet, so sincere, and you see his heart, so big, so honest and pure. You get flashbacks of every Satoru you have ever known, at 15, 17, 23, to now.

It’s not like either of you don’t know; it’s plain as day, how you feel about each other—and you would have been fine going on without ever having to hear him speak of love this way.

But hearing it now, it’s far better than anything you could have imagined.

You stare at him. He stares at you.

He’s shocked too.

You don’t want to embarrass him, especially if he didn’t mean to say it, so you chuckle, moving on to break the quiet.

“I can unhear it if you want,” you offer shyly, genuinely.

Gojo looks at you, confused, before a pout makes its way onto his face. You sit up on your couch, playing with your fingers as you look up at him.

Sure, he practically blurted it out, maybe in the heat of the moment, or something, but it doesn’t make it any less true. And he’s realizing that the only thing he really wants from this—

“Though…” you continue, biting your lips, “I think I’m pretty in love with you too.”

The little laugh you make has him, completely.

The grin that breaks on his face is infectious. Gojo, who is normally so pale, is now pink all over—red by his ears and down his neck. There’s a sparkle in his eyes that can be found in yours too.

This moment right here feels like first loves—teens first saying ‘I love you’.

“You think?” he asks incredulously, joking, “So you’re not sure?” he walks closer to you.

You laugh, candy for his cravings, and take his hand to kiss each knuckle before guiding it to your cheek. He runs a thumb across your skin, affection on his fingertips. His index finger hooks itself under your chin, tilting it to rest on his stomach as you look up at him.

A kiss to your forehead, tenderly, gently.

The best part about being in love?

He gets to be in it with you.

Gojo can’t sleep.

It’s not anything new—4 hours on average, maybe 6 on a good night. He doesn’t remember a time when sleep ever came easily.

Sleeping with you, beside you, has helped, but it’s never solved the problem. You’ve gotten him to a full 8 hours before, but never consecutively, and he’s starting to think that if you can’t do it, nothing ever will.

Your sleeping positions change every night, but they always come out as some variation of hugging. Gojo firmly believes that he might as well sleep alone if you aren’t touching.

Tonight, you’re spooning, arm slung over his waist and palm right on his chest, fingers interlaced with his. Your legs stay tangled together with soft puffs of air blowing at the back of his neck.

He opens his eyes and checks the clock by his bedside. 3:24 a.m.

He sighs deeply, carefully maneuvering his body to slip away from you. You used to wake up the first few times this happened, worried about an emergency or some kind of accident. Being a sorcerer trains you for things like that.

You’ve always known Gojo had bad sleep, just not the severity of it.

You don’t wake up to it as much as you used to, having grown accustomed to it after more nights together, but on the off-chance that you do, Gojo always kisses your forehead gently as if to tell you that it’s okay, you can go back to sleep.

You don’t wake up now, thankfully, so he grabs his phone and heads for the kitchen. There’s a sinking feeling in his chest tonight, far heavier than others he’s woken up from. He pours himself a glass of water before hopping on the kitchen counter, ready to sort through the bowl of candy sitting on the island.

The date today is October 31. Halloween. It’s been a few years since Shibuya but he still feels like he’s suffocating.

In the train station. In the box.

In front of Suguru—or Kenjaku, both, whatever.

He’s gone to therapy, just like you wanted, for the both of you, and grieving has been an interesting concept to wrap his head around since.

But no matter how much he trains his mind to deal with it, his body will always remember the feeling.

He snaps out of it when he hears your footsteps padding on the floorboards. Your figure emerges from the hallway, bed hair and eyes still sleepy, squinting.

“Satoru?” you rub at your eyes, his sleep shirt entirely too long as the sleeves extend past your fingertips. The extra fabric swings in the air. “You okay?” you whisper, approaching him.

Waking you up is the last thing he could ever want right now, but it’s hard when you’re also the only one he can talk about this with. When you know what it’s like to grieve everyone too.

He has every intention of brushing it off, of telling you to go to sleep, but one look at you—one look at him and it’s like you just know. He doesn’t even need to explain.

It isn’t hard to piece together, knowing what today is and seeing him choked up the way he is. You tell Gojo it’s your intuition, but he has a tell, and maybe you’re the only one who knows it.

His eyes—they’ve always given him away. There’s the Satoru you know, then a Satoru that’s far removed, gone away. You can spot it though, the moment it loses its sparkle, the moment it turns from blue to gray.

He feels a little selfish sharing this with you; he’s not the only one who’s lost people. You have too.

You stand in front of him and offer a sad smile, outstretching your arms as an invite, as if to tell him: you can stay here for as long as you’d like.

He moves into your space slowly, hopping off the kitchen island to slump against you.

He doesn’t hug you yet, not immediately, hands still shaky at the memory. You rub his back, hooking your chin on his shoulder as he bends down to rest his head by your cheek.

You take his hand delicately, bringing them to your lips so you can kiss every fingertip gently. When you finish, he wraps his arms around you, squeezing tightly.

“Do you want to talk about it?” you whisper, like a hushed secret.

And he wants to, but also, there isn’t anything else to say that you don’t know already. You were there the first few times he had therapy, and when he felt comfortable enough to go alone, he told you all about it anyway right after.

If there’s a secret to fighting the Gojo Satoru with guaranteed victory, they’d only have to get to you—he’d be gone, entirely. You know too much of him, own too many parts of him already.

He chuckles dryly, vibrating by your neck. A step back and he’s leaning against the counter, bringing you closer by the hip, thumb stroking. He tucks away strands of your hair behind your ear, flattening down the bird’s nest that it is from your sleep.

“Nothing you haven’t heard before, pretty.”

Gojo’s been more tender lately, especially in the night when his piercing eyes turn soft, gazing.

You pout, the same one since you were 16. You don’t know if you’ll ever get used to it, the way he calls you such sweet, honeyed things; you’ve only recently begun to call him ‘baby’ and that alone has been enough to make your head spin.

Still, he wouldn’t be your Satoru if he didn’t surprise you. With how he is now, it’s hard to imagine a time when this was all so difficult for him, when even the slightest bit of your hands touching was challenging.

It’s hard to imagine that both of you are here now, living in the same space, by the kitchen at night, with the contents of your hearts memorized—the sorrow, the pain, the joy, all the love, every single one.

He kisses your nose, and that’s comfort alone.

This is his reality now, with you, and it’s safe.

It’s good.

“Do you want to make waffles?” he hears you mumble, running your hands over his chest, soothing.

The clock reads 3:56 a.m. Early breakfast doesn’t sound so bad, could also be a midnight snack.

(But he knows what you’re doing).

You don’t tell him to try to go back to sleep, never forcing anything you know he can’t do. Instead, you offer yourself to stay up with him, keep him company. Whatever he needs.

(And he loves that about you).

Gojo will forever argue that you might have fallen first, but he’s definitely fallen harder.

He could map out every single location he’s laid his love on—your eyes, the flutter of your eyelashes, the curve of your nose, and your lips, the same ones he’s kissed and nipped, bitten until he gets his fill.

Your neck and chest—a canvas for his desires. He glides a finger across your collarbone before lightly tapping on it thrice.

There’s the little dip at the base of your spine, and your thighs—

Oh, he could get lost in them.

He knows.

He has. Many times.

There’s an animal inside of him that only answers to you.

When you kiss his neck and grip his back, soft moans by his ear—short and sweet. He’s a gone man, wholly devoted to you, and you only.

You breathe his name out, “Satoru,” raspily, and he sinks into you—everything, all that he has spilling in the depths of you.

How can he possibly contain all this love?

It’s scary how so much of him already belongs to you, all these years—how you’ve been carrying pieces of him, all versions of him throughout every birthday, every moment you’ve touched his life and have it irrevocably changed.

“Are you happy?” he mumbles by your ear, voice deep and lazy.

It’s the morning, sunlight barely peeking through your curtains. Gojo hugs you from behind, arms caging you as he traces little hearts on your sides.

“Right now?” you whisper back, chuckling, “That’s not fair.”

He nips at your ear, a small bite, before you turn to face him.

He supposes you’re right, it isn’t fair to ask that now; both your bodies are sore, well-exhausted, and littered with conversations on love.

Gojo is pretty in the mornings just like he is all the time, his hair lending well to sunlight as much as it does to the moonlight. And his eyes—they shine a different shade during the day compared to the night.

You though, you’re an entirely different creature of your own: a goddess in bedsheets and pillows, wrapped in immaculate white.

You giggle when you face him, nose-to-nose, and he pulls you in tighter, grips you by the butt to slot you in right where you belong.

Are you happy with me?

He wonders, and you can read it—his eyes his greatest tell. You kiss him tenderly, lips moving gently against his. Then you smile, sincerely, before whispering—

“Wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t.”

this is a re-upload! (because i accidentally deleted the original one!) thank you notes: to @stellamancer for being there since the very start!! col wouldn’t even exist without you!! you’re every much part of the creation of this as i am :'), to @crysugu for being so ever supportive, cheering me on all the time!! and for loving col reader as much as i do!! and to you reading this and everyone else who has loved this collection so far!! of course!! a credit to all the writers whose works have inspired the way i view and write gojo: to @seravphs for teen dad!gojo and cruel summer influences, i draw so much of the way i understand these characters and their dynamics from you and your beautiful way of writing them and i hope my interpretation gives justice to that!!, to @augustinewrites for keeping up with the fushigojos, this series and the way you write them, with so much love, has always pushed for me to view gojo that way!! you’ve inspired so much of my understanding that gojo does believe in love and that when he falls in it, he falls in it hard!!

comments, tags, and reblogs are greatly appreciated ♡

#gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #satoru x reader #satoru gojo x reader #gojo fluff #gojo angst #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk #satoru #shotorus.writes #col #algorithm pls love me

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bumblesimagines · 27 days ago

Text

Familiar Faces

Request: Yes or No

Summary: When his afternoon takes an unusual shift, (Y/N) reacquaints himself with his neighbor and an old classmate.

Pronouns: He/Him/His, M!Reader

CW/TW: Typical Twilight warnings, mentions of emotionally and physically absent parents, not much tbh

I decided to give the book another chance! divider by thecutestgrotto

~~~

"Move your ass or I'm going to dump all your makeup in a pot of boiling water, Abby!"

He waited a moment, then felt a surge of satisfaction when the shuffling upstairs became a hurried thumping of footsteps, quickening their pace in fleeting worry of the threat. (Y/N) waited at the base of the stairs, his arms crossed over his chest and foot tapping impatiently against the old wooden floorboard beneath him. It was an empty threat, of course; he'd never let money go to waste.

His precious little sister was no longer the toddler who wept until he bundled her into his arms or the little girl who clung to his pant legs while suckling on her thumb until it turned bright red. She'd reached the tiresome age of thirteen, when she still dove toward him for safety during horror movies but stuck her nose up at his help. This was the age when children became teenagers, and their interests faded from dolls and playdates to makeup and hangouts at the mall with friends and potential future partners.

He missed those days. He'd give anything to return to them instead of working at some low-end diner where he served food to truckers, lumberjacks, and fishermen who'd known him his whole life.

"I'm coming, I'm coming!" Abby appeared on the landing, no longer wearing her strawberry-print pajamas or fuzzy red socks. A small huff left her before she rapidly descended the stairs and hopped down from the last step. The bottom of her low-top black converses landed on the floorboard with a loud and purposeful thump!

He scanned her powdered pink cheeks and the clumpy mascara sticking to her lashes, his arms dropping to retrieve her backpack from the floor. "You look like a clown."

"As if you'd know anything about makeup, asshat." Another thing about reaching thirteen: learning curse words and sounding like someone trying to speak a language they'd never practiced before. His smirk only made her roll her eyes and snatch the backpack from his hands, quiet huffy muttering filling the air.

Living with a preteen girl was certainly something.

Once he slipped on his muddy, worn-out boots (and pointedly ignored Abby's mutters about getting new ones or at least cleaning them), he stepped out onto their wet porch and held the door open for Abby. His eyes tracked her as she made her way down the steps, a quiet hum of disappointment vibrating in his throat when the wet stairs failed to make her slip as they so often did. It was the highlight of his day, and he often took it as a good sign.

Abby glared at him over her shoulder and he quietly snickered, locking up the house and wiggling the doorknob before carefully following her to his car. His head tilted toward their next-door neighbor's house when he noticed movement out of the corner of his eye. He met Chief Swan's eye across the mini swamp of halfway submerged grass and mud combining their small front yards. Chief Swan raised his arm in greeting and then looked toward the figure standing on his porch, speaking words lost in the distance.

Oh, right. His daughter was back in town. How could he forget when it was the latest buzz?

"Morning, (Y/N), Abigail!" Chief Swan called, and his daughter, Isabella, snapped her head in her father's direction with wide eyes. She looked at him, almost pleadingly, but her father either remained oblivious or purposefully ignored her because he made his way toward them and motioned for her to follow. Her nose crinkled as she trekked through the grass, taking long strides to avoid getting her shoes too muddy and wet. "You remember my daughter, right?"

"Yeah." Vaguely. He recalled 'playdates' when they were younger, the two of them sat side by side with little Jacob Black and his twin sisters on a fishing boat during the summer while their fathers fished and laughed about things their young minds couldn't fully understand. Most of the time, they were forced to 'play' while the adults sat by idly. He offered her a nod and she lifted her fingers off her backpack strap in greeting. "How are you, Isabella?"

"Good." She smiled nervously and visibly swallowed. Definitely not good. "Bella's fine, by the way."

"Bell, remember Abigail?"

At the sound of her name, Abby looked up from her phone and squinted briefly at Bella before one of those polite I-have-no-idea-who-you-are smiles appeared on her face; the types of smiles you wore when a distinctively familiar elderly woman approached you with claims of having once changed your diaper. It was expected given Abby had been a toddler verging on child when the two of them were finally given the option to hang out with the adults or not. Bella held Abby exactly one time back then, and she'd looked as rigid as a statue the entire time.

"Mhm." Bella nodded weakly. "Hi."

"Hi." Abby turned back to her phone, wholly uninterested in catching up with someone she scarcely remembered. Bella looked relieved.

From the depths of his memories, he dragged out an image of Bella from their childhood and compared it to the young girl standing on the line between teenhood and adulthood. She was skinny and soft-looking, her cheeks still round with youthful fat and naturally flushed from the cold damp air but her limbs were long and almost lanky, unlike the small girl he remembered. She'd never been interesting looking with her pale skin, average chestnut brown hair, and normal brown eyes but she was pretty, in a conventionally attractive kind of way.

Awkwardness and tension forced her into a hunch, her head dipped and hands curled around her backpack straps to give an almost boxy look to her figure. Shy as always but perfectly average-looking like everyone else in town, apart from the Cullens, of course. Nothing made her stand out, and he assumed it was something she was relieved by. It was better that way in small towns.

"We should get going." (Y/N) said, tearing his eyes away from Bella who'd also been flickering her eyes between him and his sister, likely updating the images in her head of them like he'd done. He jerked his head in Abby's direction. "I gotta get this one to school."

"Forks Juinor High is on the way to Forks High, isn't it?" Chief Swan questioned as if he didn't have the whole town and each individual street memorized, his blunt nails lightly scraping against the growing stubble along his jaw and cheeks in thought. (Y/N) was fairly certain he could drive around blindfolded and never miss a single turn.

"Dad-"

"Why don't you drop Bella off? The truck's still got a dent from that accident." Chief's Swan voice went up a pitch, containing a certain tone (Y/N) was more than familiar with. It was a scheming type of tone, the type your aunts would have when they were subtly trying to set you up with someone while pretending otherwise.

In a far, distant memory of his childhood, he vaguely recalled Bella's mother once cooing over how 'perfect' and 'meant to be' he and Bella were when they were children. He was fairly certain the only thing they were perfect for was pretending and occasionally helping decorate each other's trees for Christmas.

"Dad." Bella looked positively mortified, so much so the tips of her ears turned a bright red. (Y/N) would've felt bad if it weren't a little amusing. "It's fine, I swear. It's a small dent, it's nothing-"

"Safety first, Bell." Chief Swan lifted his bushy brows at her and placed his hands over his hips in a typical dad pose before he turned back to him. "You don't mind, do you, (Y/N)? It'll give you time to catch up."

"Fine by me." (Y/N) chuckled and Bella's shoulders slumped with defeat. "Hop in, Bella."

The ride to Forks Junior High was mostly silent, apart from the soft sound of the warm air pumping inside and the tapping of Abby's nails against her phone screen. Bella fiddled with the zipper of her backpack and glanced at him occasionally, lips parting as if to say something but chickening out last minute each time. He tried to keep his focus on the road, and then the carpool line, gazing at the school containing an ocean of memories.

"Did you do your Civics homework?" He glanced at Abby in the rearview mirror, catching the way her lips pursed and a second of panic flashed over her face. He shook his head as the car slowed to a stop, listening to the soft click of the doors unlocking. "Finish it before class, alright?"

"Yeah, yeah." Abby slung her backpack over her shoulder and pushed the door open, hopping out of the car and slamming it behind her. A second later, she opened it again to call out a quick 'love you!' before she shut it and hurried off to group up with her circle of friends.

They greeted each other enthusiastically, hugs going all around before they huddled together, likely to gossip or gush over some dumb boy they'd forget about by the time the winter formal strolled around. He assumed half her friends would take up cheerleading in high school, not that Forks had much to cheer on with their mediocre school teams. (Y/N) already predicted Abby would follow suit and take on being a cheerleader just to have something in common with them.

Bella chewed on her bottom lip and watched the middle school pass on by, the view replaced by a long expanse of towering trees. "She's taller than I expected. What is she, fourteen?" She turned to look at him, her toothless smile telling him she was simply trying to break the silence before it could grow unbearably uncomfortable.

"Thirteen." He corrected with a heavy sigh. The word weighed heavy on his tongue. Thirteen would become fourteen and fourteen would become sixteen and soon he'd have a high school senior searching for colleges on his hands threatening to take his little firecracker away from him. "She's doing better than I was in middle school."

Bella laughed softly at that and the gripping tension in her shoulders disappeared. Her body slouched more comfortably against the car seat and her fidgeting fingers smoothed out along her backpack, the smile on her face turning into a more genuine one. "Charlie says you graduated last year. What are you still doing here?" Her head lolled back against the headrest, dark eyes watching him with soft interest.

"Mom works long hours at the hospital and Dad's always on the road. Someone has to keep an eye on Abby." (Y/N) shrugged casually despite the pinch of bitterness in his gut.

It'd been an option, his mother had insisted a few weeks before he was supposed to walk across the stage and grab his diploma, to teach Abby some of the basics so she could cook herself some meals. He hardly found it fair for her to be forced to basically live alone in a two-story house with no one else to tend to her apart from the rare times their mother had days off, but she usually spent those downing whatever liquor they had and sleeping the day away to actually count as time off work.

"Do.. do you wish it was different?" Bella asked tentatively and she pushed herself to sit up straighter when the tall brick buildings of Forks High peeked over the treeline. She zipped up her crinkling coat and adjusted her backpack so one strap was snug over her shoulder and halfway resting on her thigh.

"Sometimes." He nodded and felt a wave of deja vu wash over him when he pulled into the parking lot of the school. Four years of familiarizing himself with the route, three years of actually driving it and obtaining a parking spot most of his former classmates associated with him.

(Y/N) carefully drove through the parking lot, occasionally coming to a full stop to allow groups of students to hurry on by, and he almost immediately found his eye drawn to the shiny volvo just a parking spot ahead. The Cullens were gathered around, having just arrived from the looks of it; their car doors were still open, and the big bulky guy he always considered linebacker material was retrieving his backpack from the floor of the back seat.

(Y/N) wasn't familiar with the Cullens. The five of them had enrolled during his junior year and while they'd captivated his attention, he'd never been one for gossip. The boyish one with bronze waves and an air of grumpy indifference otherwise known as Edward secured himself a spot in an AP History class with (Y/N) during his senior year, but the singular time they'd interacted was when Edward had been chosen to hand out a paper for an essay.

That was about as much interaction as he had with the startling beautiful family, though (when she was coherent and conscious) his mother blabbered about how handsome and kind their father, Dr. Cullen, was. He made it a point to stay away from the hospital so he took her word for it.

"Should I drop you off with your friends?" He questioned, scanning the student body shuffling through campus or taking time to squeeze whatever water they could from their pant legs.

"Uh," Bella's eyes briefly flickered to a small group huddled together consisting of two brunettes, a blond jock, and a shorter guy who appeared deep into a debate nobody was particularly paying close attention to. She cleared her throat and shook her head, even ducking her head slightly when the car passed by them. "No, you can, uhm... you can drop me off by the curb. It's fine."

Carefully maneuvering on the slick road, he stopped by the sidewalk leading up to the building and watched her fumble with the seatbelt, attempting to be quick but it effectively got her nowhere. A quiet, rushed apology tumbled from her lips before she pushed the door and stumbled out, nearly tripping on the curb but catching herself in time. Jesus, this girl. It was a miracle she didn't land herself in the hospital every week.

She ducked her head to smile at him, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. "Thanks for the ride. I'll see you later at pick-up?"

"Yep." She was like a deer- or a fawn, actually. Trembling legs and survival instincts that'd yet to kick in.

"Great, bye!"

Bella moved to shut the door only to catch it before it could shut properly. Her body stiffened and she held it for a brief second, as if her mind caught up to what her body had done, before she opened it again and ducked down to smile sheepishly at him. She hooked her finger around a strand that slipped over her face and her eyes flickered around the interior of his car nervously.

"I.. I was wondering if you wanted to come to Seattle a week from Saturday with me- if you can, of course. I want to stop by and grab a few books, and maybe some clothes." Bella explained, shifting her weight from foot to foot as the consequence of her uncomfortable position settled onto her back. She then rushed out, "It's okay if you can't. I just thought it'd be nice to go with someone."

"Sure, sounds good." He nodded, and she visibly relaxed once more. "I don't mind."

"Cool." She nodded too and remained still as her mouth pressed into an awkward line. "Okay, uhm.. bye, again."

This time she let the door close completely and he chuckled under his breath, watching her quickly make her way toward the building to get out of the light drizzle right as Edward Cullen caught up with her. He arched a surprised brow at the sight of them together but from the irritated way Bella looked at him, he assumed they were far from friends. Edward looked amused, though. He spared a glance over his shoulder at (Y/N) and- much to his surprise, again- he raised his hand to give a small wave.

Did he remember him from History class? Maybe.. no, definitely. Why else would he wave to a complete stranger? Clearing his throat, (Y/N) waved back, which seemed to please the usually scowling boy. Edward turned back to Bella and spoke to her, prompting a flustered scowl and a peek over her shoulder at him.

(Y/N) tore his eyes off the two and stepped on the gas, carefully avoiding getting caught in any iced-over parts and dragging a poor student along with him before he drove back onto the road.

The diner he worked at, like most places in Forks, was just off the interstate and separated from other buildings by short expanses of woods on three sides. The neon lights that once shone vibrantly had dulled into a lime green color that read Milton's Diner during the daylight and Din in sparse flickers during nighttime, hardly inviting but it still had its fair share of loyal customers shuffling in and out throughout the week. It was a small, shabby, diner run by the same family throughout the decades.

It was there before him and it'd probably be there long after he perished.

Like a switch was flipped in his head, (Y/N) settled into work mode the second he stepped inside and found his nose assaulted with the smell of brewing coffee and cooking oil. He felt as if he'd stepped out of his body and left it to run on autopilot while he took orders, answered questions, laughed at jokes he'd heard a million times over, and balanced hot plates on his arms until the rush of morning slowed into the even pace of the afternoon.

He always knew he wasn't destined for much outside of Forks, or the dingy diner he worked at.

A certain hope lingered with him through his high school years, one that told him he could make it out of his small town and make something of himself, but that'd been promptly crushed under the heel of parents who'd had no business having a second child when they barely tended to their first. He wanted to hate them, to scream at them each time he saw them, but when he took in the exhaustion they wore like second skin, he always thought twice about it.

The soft ding of the bell brought him back from his daily pity party and he pushed himself off the wall, already deducing the only other waiter working was on her tenth smoke break despite having only clocked in an hour prior. He reached into his apron and tugged out his notepad and pen, the greeting automatically rolling off his tongue before he even looked up.

Bella stared at him in alarm, already halfway into one of the booths. Edward looked overly amused.

(Y/N) was no stranger to ditching class or recognizing former classmates on impromptu dates but he never expected Isabella Swan would be the type to do either of those things. Her face flushed in that familiar shade of red and she glared accusingly at Edward, her body lightly thumping against the cushion of the booth when she sat.

He tilted his head toward the old and chipped grandfather clock pressed against the wall by the counter. "Shouldn't you be in school?" He questioned them, pointing his gaze at Bella because he knew what her father would think about it. He had little idea what rules Dr. Cullen imposed on his adopted kids.

"I-"

"Bella fainted," Edward stated, grinning when Bella glared at him again before he continued. "She wasn't feeling well so I offered to drive her home."

"And you came here instead?"

"And we came here instead." Edward nodded, almost as if he were a regular customer and not someone who looked like he belonged at a three-Michelin-star restaurant.

Edward picked up the flappy and likely sticky menu to study it, his eyes flickering over it too quickly for someone who was actually taking time to look at the options before he set it back down and peered up at him.

His eyes were an interesting shade of golden brown, which was odd considering (Y/N) recalled them being a whole lot darker the last time he saw him up close. He still looked other-worldly, like a model in a magazine whose face had been photoshopped to rid it of any imperfections, yet the area below his eyes was a darker shade as if he wasn't getting enough sleep. Strange for a kid who likely slept on the most expensive mattress and nicest of sheets.

"I'll get a black coffee."

"I thought you were hungry," Bella said under her breath, hands roughly tugging at the sleeves of her wet jacket until it was snugly set beside her and draped over her backpack.

Edward barely glanced at the menu. "And fries."

By the time (Y/N) turned around toward the counter, Dolores had returned to her spot behind it and set a cup of steaming black coffee for him to retrieve before turning to shout the simple order into the kitchen in her nasally voice. He shot her a thankful smile and she nodded in return with her usual blank expression, her attention more focused on squinting at Edward before looking away to read the newspaper she'd abandoned in favor of smoking.

Gingerly setting the coffee down in front of Edward, he looked to Bella but she shook her head dismissively. He gave a quiet hum of acknowledgment and tucked his notepad away, sparing the two another look before spinning on his heels and retreating to his corner while he waited for the fries. He tried not to watch them but they were virtually the only people in the diner, apart from an old man at the end of the counter who was blatantly dozing off over his half-eaten burger.

Bella and Edward had a hushed conversation, one that seemed to amplify her irritation and his amusement. Every so often, her shoulders would slump and her features would relax, and occasionally his expression would tighten with seriousness before melting back into that casual, nearly teasing smile.

They were a strange duo but the more he thought about it, the more it made sense. Bella was so... Bella and Edward was the quietest of his siblings, perhaps even the normal one of the bunch.

The rattle and thump of the fries took his attention off the two and he slinked up to the counter right as Dolores plopped the basket onto the counter without looking up from her newspaper. He picked it up and took a few steps toward their booth, the smell of the warm fries tantalizing to his senses and he reluctantly parted ways with it. Before he could turn, Edward caught his eye.

"Sit with us." He said, and he added another layer of absurdity by scooting further into the corner and patting the spot beside him.

Did Edward Cullen believe they were... friends? He frantically thought back to his high school years post-Cullens but he only managed to recall the one singular interaction where he'd only muttered a quiet thanks and the few times he'd pass him or one of his siblings in the hallways. Maybe he thought there was mutual respect. Maybe he was thankful (Y/N) hadn't spent his time gawking at him and his family like everyone else.

"I'm working." He mumbled.

Edward surveyed the diner and then quirked a brow at him as if to say 'Seriously? That's your excuse?' so (Y/N) reluctantly slid into the booth beside him. Bella's eyes flickered between them, more perplexed than surprised, but she made no comment about it and instead fished out a fry to nibble on. Edward propped his head on his fist and kept his other hand spread over his thigh, at no point making any move to drink his coffee.

(Y/N) waited for a minute of silence and no movement to pass before he reached out to grab the coffee and some sugar packets from the little tray pressed against the wall. Edward only smiled and watched, a light laugh vibrating in his chest when (Y/N) sipped on it and immediately crinkled his nose.

"Edward is insistent on joining us on our trip to Seattle. I hope that's okay?" Bella's brows lifted in a pleading kind of way, her puckered lips and the way she glanced at Edward telling him she definitely tried diverting the subject but ended up giving in.

"You two can go." He spoke in a tone he hoped reassured her he wasn't mad about it. He wondered how much Charlie knew about the trip. Would he have to cover for her?

"No," Edward shook his head and one of his wavy strands fell over his forehead. "The three of us will go. We'll take my car."

Who was he to argue with a Cullen and deny himself a taste of their fancy lifestyle?

"How long have you been working here?" Bella asked, her chin tilted up and eyes roving over the random posters, license plates, signs, and animal head mounts scattered across the walls.

If she was looking for an aesthetic, she wasn't going to find one. The decorations had a habit of suddenly appearing with little to no explanation, and they didn't pay (Y/N) to question their choice of interior design. He could, however, do without a mounted deer staring at him while he worked.

"A while." (Y/N) answered, regretfully taking another sip of the coffee out of habit. Edward laughed again and attempted to muffle it by pressing his mouth into his knuckles when (Y/N) glanced at him. "Mom's work pays for most of the bills but I have to pay for my car, groceries, anything Abby needs or wants. I started working so I wouldn't have to bother her all the time."

"She's your mom," Edward said suddenly, his brows furrowing. "It shouldn't bother her."

"She works long hours." (Y/N) shrugged but Edward still looked unconvinced. Annoyed, even.

Bella hummed. "And your dad? Is he still driving trucks?"

His lips pursed. "I think. I haven't seen him around for a while but he sends money sometimes so he's still alive... somewhere. Sometimes I think he has a new family somewhere else."

Silence fell over the table, as it usually did when (Y/N) revealed his family wasn't exactly the white picket fence type. Bella looked sympathetic, but (Y/N) knew she was familiar with the struggle of having a somewhat incompetent parent and a borderline absent one, even though it'd been her choice to spend more time with Renée. Edward, on the other hand, looked furious with his deep frown and knitted brows that formed creases in his otherwise smooth skin.

"So, uh," (Y/N) cleared his throat, eager for a subject change away from him and his family. "How'd you two meet?"

"Biology," Bella answered yet her eyes were more focused on studying Edward. "We- We sit next to each other."

(Y/N) tried to ignore Edward staring a hole into the side of his head. He was sort of.. weird. "Ah... well, we had History together last year. I don't remember where we sa-"

"I sat on the row directly behind you." Edward interrupted, his voice quiet yet naturally attention-grabbing.

"There wasn't a sitting chart but you sat in the same spot by the window the whole year and you spent half of the class each day staring out of it at the forest but you always got good grades. Kayla Patton and Chloe Asaka were the ones who sat next to you most often; Kayla because she had a crush on you and Chloe because she's known you since middle school and you had another class together. You were one of Mr. Wallace's favorites and you were always in class earlier than everyone talking to him even though everyone hates him because he's strict."

(Y/N) could only stare at the bronze-haired boy beside him in startled silence. He'd forgotten about Kayla Patton entirely, let alone even realized Edward Cullen had spent the entire year faithfully sitting behind him. The amount of conversations he must've overheard, the amount of habits he must've picked up on. He felt a hint of fleeting guilt for not having taken note of the Cullen earlier.

"History couldn't have been that boring." He exhaled, suddenly feeling wildly shy.

He always considered himself more of a passerby, someone who blended into the background and went unnoticed by strangers. People recognized him, it was a given in a small town, but it was never the kind of attention that implied they were looking or waiting for him because they wanted to be in his presence. Yet, perhaps the most wanted boy in school, had paid him attention. Had he worried each time (Y/N) called out sick? Was he relieved each time he appeared the following day?

"It wasn't." Edward agreed, the anger replaced with soft amusement. The gentleness on his face was almost tender, like the way Chief Swan used to gaze at Renée before their divorce. "You were just more interesting."

Edward was full of surprises, and (Y/N) had never been a big fan of them. Heat licked up the back of his neck and bit at his cheeks, ones that were already warm from the smoke slipping out from the kitchen. He looked away from Edward with a quiet noise and when the Cullen chuckled, low and husky and vaguely flustered, (Y/N)'s heart undoubtedly skipped a beat.

Ah, shit. He'd been hoping he was immune to the untouchable Cullens.

No matter what he did, he couldn't get Edward and his stupid words out of his head. He'd forgotten how irritating and distracting crushes were- ugh God, was it really a crush?

Edward was undeniably attractive, he recognized it the second he and his siblings became the talk of the town, but he'd never actually been attracted to him. He'd had always been Edward Cullen, the guy whose model-like siblings were dating each other and nobody truly cared because they 'weren't actually related'. But now, each time he closed his eyes, Edward's pretty honey eyes flashed in his head, crinkled with warmth and humor.

He was hyper-aware of himself now too, and when he usually tossed on whatever was in reach, he took a moment to think about his clothes before realization slammed into him each time.

He wanted to strangle Edward, or better yet, run him over until his pretty face remained permanently disfigured and he had to remain on permanent bed rest so (Y/N) would never have to lay eyes on him again.

Maybe he wasn't the best at processing his emotions...

(Y/N) swirled around the soggy cereal in his bowl and watched the remaining Cheerios swim along the milk, waiting to be eaten or dumped down the drain. Abby, thankfully, hadn't caught on yet to his predicament and he wanted to keep it that way. (Y/N) (L/N) had better and more important things to fret over than some stupid guy.

His head lifted when he heard two soft knocks on the door, and he waited until he heard another before scooping the bowl into his hand and chugging half of the remaining milk. The bowl clattered softly when he placed it into the sink and he wiped at his mouth, mentally flickering back through the checklist he'd made for Abby when she told him of sleeping over at her friend's place. Instead of seeing his sister standing on the porch, he saw their neighbor.

"Bella," He greeted and he looked her over, unconsciously searching for an injury or anything that could explain her sudden appearance. It was a Saturday but Charlie was working and he guessed it was easier to cross the yard than search the town for her father if she needed help. Bella looked unnaturally frustrated.

"Can I.. talk to you about something?" She asked, fiddling with the sleeves of her rain jacket.

He frowned. "Of course."

With Abby having a sleepover at her friend's house and their mother essentially living at the hospital, the house was silent. Bella reacquainted herself with the interior, gazing over dusty picture frames and running her finger along the old railing as they made their way up into his bedroom. He couldn't recall the last time he'd had someone over who wasn't Abby's friend.

"You okay?" He asked and took a seat on the edge of the bed, head raised to observe her fully. Bella rocked back and forth on her feet and chewed on her bottom lip, her anxiety making him anxious. "Bella-"

"This is going to sound crazy.. but hear me out." She began, not the start he wanted to hear but he nonetheless nodded for her to continue with furrowed brows. "I bumped into Jacob at the bonfire Mike invited me to yesterday night and he mentioned some things that had me thinking about the Cullens."

"The Cullens?" He repeated, his confusion heightening as Bella began to pace his room, her fingers now toying with the ends of her hair.

"The tribe has stories about these 'people' they call the Cold Ones. Have.. have you ever noticed how Edward's eyes sometimes change color? From black to gold? Or how they're strangely pale and have this almost inhuman beauty? And when I had my accident, Edward was nowhere near me yet he managed to be at my side in seconds and left a dent in Tyler's van with his hands."

"Okay." (Y/N) said long and slow as he attempted to piece the puzzle she was spewing together. "What exactly are you saying?"

"I think- I think Edward and his family are vampires, (Y/N)."

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airybcby · 2 months ago

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જ⁀♡⊹｡° always known that I would win this game

♡ a/n — for my childhood best friends to lovers series! ( listen to what i wrote to here ! )

♡ word count — 1.7k

♡ content — nagi seishiro x fem! reader, fem! reader, i leaned heavily into nagi thinking everything is a pain, very lazy nagi, probably ooc nagi, lowkey one-sided relationship, she falls first AND harder, reo mentioned a lot, lowkey reo keeps the relationship afloat, goes from when nagi and reader are 3 all the way to the U-20 game

♡ synopsis — Nagi Seishiro was like fireworks—beautiful, brilliant, and untouchable. You just hoped you wouldn't get burned trying to love him.

The first time you met Nagi Seishiro, you were three years old, barely old enough to form sentences, but already filled with boundless energy. Your mother brought you along to a playdate with her coworker’s son, claiming the two of you might get along since you were close in age.

You didn’t know what “getting along” was supposed to look like, but when you saw Nagi for the first time—white hair sticking out in every direction, holding onto his mother’s leg like she was a lifeline—you decided that getting along meant trying to make him play.

You, a bundle of chaotic energy, bounded up to him with sticky hands from the lollipop you’d just devoured, grinning wide.

“Hi!” you chirped, bouncing on the balls of your feet. “Wanna play with blocks?”

He stared at you like you were speaking a foreign language. For a moment, you thought maybe he didn’t know how to play. Or maybe he was shy.

“It’s a pain,” he mumbled, turning his head away from you.

You puffed up your cheeks, determined not to let him brush you off. “It’s fun! Come on, I’ll show you!”

Nagi sighed heavily—so heavily it made him sound much older than three years old—and shuffled behind you with a sluggishness that would come to define him.

Despite that, your mothers encouraged your budding friendship. Nagi, who found most things exhausting even as a child, didn’t like you at first. You talked too much, moved too much, asked too many questions—everything about you was “too much” for him. But for reasons he couldn’t explain, he tolerated you, enduring your antics when your families gathered for dinner.

He rarely smiled when you played with him, but he never told you to leave him alone either.

That was the start of everything.

By the time the two of you started kindergarten, you considered Nagi your best friend. He might not have agreed at first, but that didn’t matter to you.

You quickly made friends while Nagi sat alone at a desk, chin propped in his hand, waiting for the day to end. But then you came over, plopped yourself into the seat next to him.

“This is Nagi! He’s my bestest best friend!” you declared to the new friends you’d made during morning playtime.

Nagi blinked at you, startled, but didn’t protest. From that day on, Nagi Seishiro was stuck with you.

Middle school was a whirlwind of new experiences—at least for you.

Art club, yearbook, swimming team, gardening—you tried everything you could get your hands on. Nagi, on the other hand, never joined a single club. Instead, he discovered video games.

“Why don’t you try new things like me?” you asked one afternoon as the two of you walked home together. A club flyer fluttered in your hands while Nagi’s eyes stayed glued to the screen of his phone.

“Too much energy,” he replied simply.

“But it’s fun!” you said, exasperated. "Like this one! I'm going to join the chess club!" you smiled, holding up the chess club flyer you'd grabbed.

Nagi glanced at you from the corner of his eye. “Do you even know how to play chess?”

You hesitated. “...No, but I can learn!”

“Why waste the time? You’ll drop it anyway.”

You stopped walking, the words sinking into your chest like a tiny thorn. He continued ahead without noticing, too focused on his game.

You jogged to catch up, huffing. “Because I like trying. That’s the point," you sighed. "And it's fun!"

That was your reason for everything.

High school arrived, and true to form, you didn’t stick with any clubs. By then, Nagi had moved out of his parents’ house into his own apartment. It was strange, not having him just a block away anymore.

You hated the distance but tried not to complain—he still came over whenever you asked, still lounged on your bed like it was his own.

One evening, as he sat on your bed, phone in hand, you shoved another bag of discarded club items into your closet. “At least I tried!” you exclaimed, crossing your arms as you glanced at him.

“Yeah, yeah.” He didn’t even look up from his game.

You rolled your eyes. “Sei, do you always have to be playing something? You even do it in class!”

“Listening to the teacher is tiring…”

“Why don’t you do something at school? Like join a club?”

He shrugged. “What’s the point? It’s a pain.”

“You’ll regret it when you’re older. What are you going to tell your kids? That you were lazy?”

“Our kids,” he mumbled.

“Huh?”

Nagi didn’t even flinch, eyes still focused on his screen. “I’ve only ever thought about having kids with you.”

Your heart stuttered in your chest. “Nagi Seishiro! You can’t just… say stuff like that!”

“Huh? But I like you.” He finally glanced up, tilting his head.

You sputtered, feeling your face burn. “I— You don’t—you can’t just—!”

“Don’t worry,” he interrupted lazily. “If it’s too much work, you don’t have to like me back.”

“I love you!” you blurted, before immediately slapping a hand over your mouth. “Wait! I didn’t mean—I mean, I did, but—”

Nagi sighed, locking his phone and rolling over on your bed like he’d just finished a long shift. “Mhm. Good.”

Good? Good?!

Your heart felt like it was about to combust, but Nagi had already closed his eyes as if you hadn’t just confessed your feelings, clearly deciding the conversation was over.

Dating Nagi wasn’t what you’d imagined. In the beginning, it was wonderful—texting late into the night, stolen kisses in quiet hallways—but slowly, things began to change. He stopped meeting you for lunch, stopped walking home with you. He even stopped inviting you over.

It wasn’t until you dropped by his apartment unexpectedly one afternoon to return a borrowed game that you realized why. A purple-haired boy opened the door.

“Oh! Sorry, I must have the wrong place,” you said awkwardly.

“Wait! If you’re looking for Nagi, he’s here,” the boy replied. “I’m Reo, by the way.”

You blinked. Reo? A friend? You hadn’t known Nagi had made one. Your heart ached at the realization that this stranger was closer to Nagi than you were.

Reo led you inside, where Nagi sat on the couch, engrossed in his phone.

“Reo? Who was it?”

“Your girlfriend,” Reo replied, smirking. Girlfriend. The word felt foreign. Nagi rarely called you that.

Nagi glanced up, his expression unreadable. “Did you need something?”

You held up the game case. “Just returning this. I liked it, thanks for letting me borrow it.”

“Really? Didn’t think you’d like it,” he said, leaning forward to press a quick kiss to your lips.

“Sei! Someone’s here!” you whispered, flustered as you looked towards Reo.

“It’s just Reo. He doesn’t care,” Nagi replied as he leaned in to give you another kiss. Reo chuckled, ignoring the two of you for his own phone “You should come watch us play soccer next week. We’ve got a game.”

“Soccer?” you echoed.

“Yeah. Didn’t he tell you? He’s been playing for weeks.”

You looked at Nagi in disbelief. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Forgot,” he mumbled.

"Don't worry," You smiled, running a hand through Nagi's hair. "I'll be there."

Of course you'd be there for Nagi, you always were.

When Nagi received his Blue Lock invitation, he didn’t tell you. You only found out when Reo mentioned it during one of your visits.

“Leaving in a week,” Reo said casually, handing Nagi a bus ticket.

“Huh? Where are you going?” You asked. Was the soccer team having a team trip? Were they going to have a boys day? Did boys even have boys days?

“Blue Lock,” Nagi replied as if it explained everything.

Reo took pity on your confusion, explaining the program and its purpose. “It’s a big deal for soccer players,” he said with pride.

You turned to Nagi. “That's awesome Sei! Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Forgot.”

For the first time in your relationship - your entire friendship - , the weight of those words felt unbearable.

When Nagi left for Blue Lock, all you got was a text.

‘Leaving now, see you l8r. :x’

You stared at your phone, the message making your heart drop. That was it? He hadn’t even called to say goodbye.

Still, you smiled to yourself as you typed your reply. This was Nagi, your 'Sei' , of course a phone call would drain him of energy.

‘I love you! Please be safe and take care of yourself. Text me when you’re there if you can?’

The response was instant.

‘Sure. Love you.’

Even so, as the days passed, his absence settled heavily on you.

When Nagi entered Blue Lock, safe to say, he forgot to text you back. He’d gotten his phone back pretty quickly, and with Reo around, he had someone to talk to.

You simply slipped his mind.

It wasn’t until Reo asked about you one day during a meal that your name came back up.

“How’s your girlfriend doing?” Reo asked as he reached for his drink.

Nagi paused mid-bite. “Dunno. I haven’t asked.”

Reo stared at him incredulously. “You haven’t asked? What do you mean you haven’t asked?”

“Who are you guys talking about?” Zantetsu asked, peering at them like they were some exotic birds.

“Nagi’s girlfriend. Who he needs to text, by the way,” Reo said sharply. “She’s probably worried about you.”

Nagi sighed, pulling out his phone. “I will.”

He texted you a simple message: ‘Safe. Just got my phone back.’ A small lie, but that was okay.

Your reply came almost immediately: ‘Thank goodness! I was so worried about you, but of course you’re okay. Have fun and text me whenever you can. I love you!’

He stared at your message for a moment, then replied: ‘Love you. Will do.’

“There. I texted her,” he said, glancing at Reo, who was shaking his head in exasperation.

Months passed with sporadic texts and one-sided conversations. You watched Nagi play in the U-20 match, awestruck by his skill.

He was like fireworks—beautiful, brilliant, and untouchable. After the game, you waited on the field, hoping to catch a moment with him.

When Nagi appeared, he was with Reo, laughing about something. He didn’t notice you until Reo nudged him.

“Your girlfriend’s here,” Reo said softly.

Nagi turned, his expression unreadable. “Hey.”

“Hey,” you said, forcing a smile.

“I didn’t think you’d come.”

“Of course I did.”

Nagi stared at you for a moment before stepping closer, his hand brushing yours. “Thanks.”

You stood there, watching him. He was here, yet he felt so far away. You didn’t know what hurt more—the thought of losing him, or the thought that maybe, just maybe, he was already gone.

idk if i liked this one but i wrote it at 3AM so we all have to suffer

likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated!

#★ · airybcbyy #airy posts #bllk #blue lock #bllk x reader #blue lock x reader #nagi x reader #nagi seishiro #seishiro nagi #bllk nagi #bllk nagi seishiro #blue lock nagi #blue lock nagi seishiro

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paradiseismine · 4 months ago

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Love at first bite - Boris Pavlikovsky x reader

Pairing: Boris Pavlikovsky (The Goldfinch) x f!decker!reader

Warnings: very fluffy, just Boris (metaphorically) drooling over the reader. Sfw still 🎀

Summary: you’re Theo’s cousin, in Vegas for a few days to visit him and his dad. While you’re cooking at the Deckers house, Theo gets an interesting and very good looking visitor.

Love note from Nina: I know not many people like my Boris fics, but I recently finished reading The Goldfinch for the first time, so bear with me here. Hope you enjoy it 💕

You had gotten to the Deckers house earlier that morning - Theo had already left for school, but uncle Larry and Xandra picked you up at the airport before leaving for work. That meant you were alone in the house for a few hours, so you decided to do some cleaning and cooking to wait for everyone to come home.

At around 3 in the afternoon, the doorbell rang. You opened the door, but surely wasn’t hoping to see such a tall, handsome dark haired boy in front of you.

“Hi! You’re Theo’s friend, uh… Boris, right?” you asked, trying to sweeten up your voice as much as you could and fixing your hair.

Theo didn’t have any friends in Vegas besides Boris, so of course you knew about him, but his accent seemed even cuter and more distinct in person as he spoke.

“Yes, that is me” he nodded, smiling softly. “And you’re…?”

“Y/n, I’m Theo’s cousin, nice to meet you” you answered, greeting him with a kiss on the cheek, something very common in your part of the family. “I guess he should be coming home soon. Would you like some coffee? I just brewed it, it’s still pretty hot”

Boris nodded and you turned around to get back to the kitchen, not catching his silly smile as he gently touched his cheek where you had kissed him.

“Are you coming, dear?” you raised your voice slightly so he’d hear you from the door, as you were now in the kitchen.

Boris soon came along and sat on one of the kitchen chairs. You served him some of the cookies you had baked earlier, as well as a cup of coffee.

“You made these?” he asked, mouth full of cookies already. “So good”

“Yeah, just before you got here, actually” you chuckled, finding his reaction funny. “So Theo would have something to eat when he came back from school, you know… But I made way too many, so I’m glad you’re here to help us eat them”

“I’m glad too” Boris answered, happily chewing on the cookies and sipping the coffee you had made.

“I was also making him a cake, so I’ll have to finish that and put it in the oven” you said, turning around to resume your work.

“I couldn’t find the cooking spray anywhere to grease the cake pan, so we’re gonna have to do it the old fashioned way” you shrugged, opening the fridge and reaching for a stick of butter.

“Can I help?” Boris asked, sounding like a little boy wanting to help mommy in the kitchen.

“Of course” you chuckled. “Can you grease the cake pan for me?”

“Sure” he responded, his accent thickening as his body got closer to yours in front of the kitchen counter. “So I just spread the butter on the inside, everywhere?”

“Exactly, and then you put some flour on top and make sure the whole cake pan is covered with a thin layer of flour, ok?”

“I can do that” Boris nodded. He did as he was told, and soon, the cake pan was greased and the batter was nicely deposited on it.

Boris helped you open the oven, chuckling at your worries that he’d burn himself. As soon as the cake was put in the oven and you had set the timer, Theo opened the front door.

He walked around looking for Xandra - it was weird that she hadn’t been home yet. But he saw Boris and you, which was more than enough to get him concerned - he knew Boris couldn’t see a girl doing “old fashioned girly things” (like cooking) and leave her alone. That foreigner boy was a little too flirty for Theo’s liking, and he wanted none of that to happen to his cousin.

He took Boris to the living room to talk more privately, leaving you in the kitchen to prepare the icing for the cake.

“Potter, she’s so beautiful! Your cousin?” Boris asked, nearly whispering. Too bad for him that you could hear it perfectly, and a hand quickly clamped over your mouth to stifle a chuckle.

“Yeah, Boris, she’s my cousin. She’s visiting for a few days. Why do you ask?” Theo answered, seeming annoyed. You didn’t even have to be looking at him to know he rolled his eyes so hard they nearly fell off his head.

“Would you mind if I kissed her? I don’t have to do more than kiss if you don’t want” he said, seeming a bit defensive. “But she’s so beautiful, I really want to kiss her, I never met a girl like her, so, uh, so женственный”

You blushed to yourself in the kitchen, stirring up the icing of the cake in order to keep normalcy - the noise from the whisk on the pot would be enough for them to pay you no attention at all. You had no idea what that last word meant, but it sounded like a compliment.

“Well, you don’t have to ask ME that, you can go ask her if she wants to kiss you” Theo spat, coming off jealous.

“Fine, you cranky” he answered. “But you better seem happier when I marry her” he added, as he walked towards the kitchen. “A woman like that has to have a good husband, and I make sure is me”

Boris entered the kitchen again as you were setting the icing bowl aside.

“Everything ok with Theo?” You asked, trying not to bring up anything you had heard from the living room.

“Da, he’s just cranky” Boris shrugged softly. “I said you were beautiful and he got jealous”

You laughed at his sincerity. “Really? You think I’m beautiful, then?”

“Totally, very beautiful. I asked if he would be mad if I kissed you” his right arm had ended up around your waist somehow, but it’s not like you were gonna swat it away. You enjoyed his touch.

“And what did he say?” You asked, turning your body to face him, your lips now dangerously close to his.

“I don’t really care. Can I kiss you?”

You nodded, chuckling and putting your hands to his cheeks, lightly pulling him down to compensate for his height.

Boris leaned in and kissed you very gently, as if you were made of sugar and could melt at the slightest touch of his lips. His arms were around your body, fingers lightly tracing the curve of your waist, his cold hands sending shivers to the hot bare skin of your belly.

His lips intertwined perfectly with yours, his tongue timidly slipping into your mouth as his hands grabbed your waist. You couldn’t help but faintly moan into the kiss and put your hand to his nape, fingers interlocking in his hair, bringing him closer. He was clearly trying to contain himself, and seemed utterly out of breath when you bit his lower lip maliciously.

When you broke the kiss, the look on his face was quite similar to when he used drugs: pupils dilated, eyes wide open, mouth slightly open and cheeks flushed. His palms were a bit sweaty and he muttered something in Russian that you couldn’t comprehend. You had gotten him wrapped around your finger - it must have been love at first bite.

#finn wolfhard x reader #mike wheeler #mike wheeler x reader #miles fairchild #trevor spengler #finn wolfhard smut #imagine #smut #trevor spengler x reader #finn headcanons #boris pavlikovsky x reader #boris pavlikovsky #the goldfinch #the goldfinch fics #ziggy katz x reader #ziggy katz

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futfemfantasies · 1 year ago

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prohibited touches \\ Leah Williamson x reader

The first few months at Arsenal have been somewhat eventful. Thankfully, you national teammates and close friends Steph and Caitlin helped transition into the gloomy and overcast life that is London. Throughout the months, you’ve been training hard both on the field and in the gym and it doesn’t go unnoticed by a certain blonde defender.

The constant stares and eye tracking your muscles as they move and flex don’t go unnoticed by Steph, who eventually tells Caitlin. What they didn’t know is that the stares go both ways. You bend down to grab your water bottle when you see her.

Back muscles flexing.

Sweat dripping down her sports bra covered back.

Blonde hair sticking to her neck.

As you finish in the gym, you start to walk back to the locker room, only to bump into someone slightly taller than you. Her hands find your waist to steady the both of you and you look up to see the familiar blonde defender.

“S-sorry y/n” Leah stuttered out.

“No worries Leah, all good”

That’s how your first conversation with Leah started. The next is when you, Steph and Caitlin are talking about helping you build your new Ikea furniture a few weeks later. Leah sits next to your three and insists she comes to help, claiming ‘the more the merrier’. Steph, Caitlin and Leah come over to your new apartment that afternoon. Steph and Caitlin decide to start on the bed frame upstairs while you and Leah start on the tv unit. You open the boxes and lay all the pieces out before reaching over Leah for the instructions.

“Sorry” You apologise, realising you could’ve just asked for the instructions.

“No need to apologise at all” Leah mumbles as she moves a piece of stray hair from your face.

She looks down at your lips then back up to your eyes. You give her a slight nod and you both lean in before hearing two pairs of feet race down the stairs. You and Leah jump apart and Caitlin asks you for a screwdriver while Steph looks at you suspiciously as your arm is across Leah holding the instructions. A few hours later and the tv unit, bed frame and kitchen table and chairs are all finished. You decide to treat the girls to some pizza as a thank you for their help.

As you all get set up to eat, Leah sits next to you squashed up against you as Steph sits on the other side. You internally freak out as Leah is touching your bare thigh but remain calm. When the movie is over and everyone is full, Steph and Caitlin help clean up before leaving claiming they have to be up early in the morning. You and Leah look at each other, confused as you know there’s no game or anything tomorrow.

“How about some popcorn while you choose the movie?” You suggest.

“Sounds good, don’t take too long”

You walk into the kitchen and decide to quickly make the popcorn your mum used to make all the time. Heating the pot up, you pour in the oil before adding the kernels and putting the lid on. Just after you shake the pot, you feel two arms wrap around your waist and a head leaning on your shoulder.

“You took too long” Leah mumbles in your shoulder and you die a little on the inside at her cuteness.

“I thought homemade popcorn was fitting for our little movie night”

“You know, ever since you’ve come to Arsenal I’ve always had a small crush on you. But now I’m realising it’s more than a little crush”

You shake the popcorn again before turning in Leah’s arms. Her newly cut fringe hanging just over her gorgeous eyes, forces you to move it away behind her ear. You cup her cheek ever so lightly and pull her closer to you with your other hand. She whispers if it’s okay to kiss you and you answer by connecting your lips together. Leah pulls you closer to her, leaving no space between you too. A loud, alarm type noise pulls you both away from each other and the popcorn has burnt. You quickly turn the stove off while Leah attempts to turn off the smoke alarm. Both returning to the kitchen, looking at each other with a laugh.

“Microwave popcorn it is then!”

You put the bag in and Leah pulls you into her side, wanting to keep you close at all times. The bag is done and you pull it out and emptying the contents into a bowl before walking back to see a horror film on the tv. You groan while Leah chuckles and pulls you into her.

“No need to be scared love, I’m here to protect you always” Leah reminds you before kissing your cheek lightly.

All throughout the movie you hide into Leah’s side and you eventually fall asleep. The movie doesn’t even finish when Leah notices you’re asleep before carrying you up to your new bed. You feel a blanket being put over you and your eyes open to see Leah leaving the room.

“Lee?” The blonde turns around and smiles softly at you.

“I’m gonna get going love, it’s getting late”

“Please stay Lee” With the cutest puppy dog eyes Leah’s ever seen.

“Let me check the front door love, I’ll be back in a moment”

Leah kisses your forehead before jogging downstairs and coming back quickly. Leah wraps her arms tightly around you before leaning up and kissing you goodnight.

“Thank you for staying Lee”

“I don’t want to be anywhere else but here with you right now”

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

You and Leah have been dating for a few months now but are keeping it a secret for as long as possible. There’s no label on you two as yet, only because both of you keep getting scared right when one is about to ask. The bubble you two have created just isn’t ready to be popped yet.

The team figured out from day one that you’re dating with all the ‘subtle’ looks you two give each other across the locker room and the light but meaningful touches as you pass each other on the field. You’ve noticed the subtle hints Leah has been giving that she wants to announce your relationship.

Lia’s New Year’s Eve party is bustling with everyone either nursing a drink or finger food in hand. Lia is happy with how everything is going until she saw it was five minutes until midnight and no one was in front of the tv. Everyone gathers around the tv as the fireworks are set to go off very soon. Leah is standing on the side, kind of hidden from everyone but the tv still visible. A soft hand falls on the small of Leah’s back. She turns her head slightly and smile when she smells your familiar scent. Leah pulls you to her side and wraps her arms around you, resting her head on your shoulder. You squeeze her waist and Leah turns to kiss your neck affectionately. The countdown begins and Leah turns to stand in front of you.

“5!”

You pull her close and Leah moves her hand up to move a loose curl out of your face. You study her features for a moment and think just how lucky you are.

“Y/n/n”

“4!”

“Leah”

“Will you be my girlfriend?”

“3!”

Your faces are near millimetres from each other. Leah holds your soft cheeks in her hands, giving you a soft smile.

“2!”

You return the smile and your hands travel up her shirt, onto her bare skin. You feel Leah shudder and her eyes close temporarily.

“1! Happy New Year”

Your lips smash together without a care in the world. It’s like all your friends disappeared and you and Leah are the only people in the room. Eventually, you both pull away and have dopey smiles on your faces.

“So is that a yes then?” Leah asks with that sexy smirk on her face.

“Oh baby, that’s a hell yes. Happy new year girlfriend”

“Happy new year girlfriend. There’s no one I’d want to start the new year with”

You both turn to everyone and you find them staring at you both. Katie, Caitlin and Steph all silently high five before discussing who had the bigger influence in you two getting together. You and Leah announce your premature departure from the party and you are met with different boo’s from Kyra and Alessia and a ‘use protection’ from none other than Katie. You intertwine your hand with Leah’s and yell a thank you to Lia. Leah drags you out of the house and into her car, wanting to get home extra fast.

“Ready to start the new year with a bang?”

#woso soccer #auswnt #leah williamson x reader #woso fanfics #arsenal x reader

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theplutodeity · 1 month ago

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Hi there! I have a request =) ok so can I please get a Science-Teacher Kuroo who students don't like because he assigns too much HW, x Art-Teacher y/n who's super eccentric and all the students have started calling "Auntie" bc they like her so much... and somehow the students realize they're dating

I apologize for such a delay! Happy new years everyone! I had some issues regarding countries and tumblr for a bit but I’m good now!! Hope everyone is safe and doing well! Requests are open again!!!

Good cop, bad cop.

Science Teacher Kuroo x Art teacher Reader

SUMMARY: The students sure are riled up! After calming them down from the stress that a certain teacher gave them, you decide to sit down and spend time with your boyfriend!

WORD COUNT: 1.5K

Various sighs from the students filled the room as Kuroo finished explaining the new homework that’s due next week, 15 pages of a practice exam for physics, 5 questions for each level of difficulty. He obviously heard a lot of complaints but waved it off.

“Y’know, I had to do more pages than you bums and I had to be the captain of a volleyball team too. Now get your asses to your next class before I kick ‘em myself.” Tetsurou joked around, wiping off the smudges that the markers left. He heard a few more complaints but slowly everyone began to file out of the room for their next class before break. Thankfully, Kuroo didn’t have any classes after this. So he could head home early if he wanted to.

But he decided to stay and clean a bit more…

The students filed into their next class, everyone sitting down at their respective tables in groups of 8 as the tables were decently big. You were pinning up a few pictures up the cork board, glancing behind the gloomy students. They always were tired out on Thursday afternoons, and you knew why, but you had the decency to stifle that small giggle crawling up your throat.

“What’s wrong, everybody? You all look so dull today!” You asked, patting your hands as you successfully pinned up all the pictures needed on the board. Spinning around on your heel and walking towards your desk to face your class.

Various complaints burst out of the students’ mouths, almost gave you a migraine immediately. You pressed your little bell— the students knew if the bell was rang, everyone had to quiet down— a few times and waited for a few seconds.

“How about we have just one or two people explaining at once? (Student name), you seemed most eager to tell…” You chose a random student, looking over at them.

“Mr. Kuroo always gives us way too much homework, Auntie! This time— this time he gave us 15 pages! To submit next week!?” The teen complained, dragging his hands down his face and dramatically falling into his friend's arms. To which they muttered ‘look at what Mr. Kuroo did, miss…’

“Oh dear, that much? Well, I can’t do too much about it, but if you’re all feeling a bit stressed, we could do something more simple for today's class?” You suggested, organising your desk a bit while you talked to them. Thankfully, the students seemed happy with that suggestion and once you explained the little freestyle clay project they could do in groups of 3, 2 or alone, they all skittered off to their respective groups and began working at it.

Looking at your timetable for today, you didn’t have any classes— and thankfully zero to substitute for too. You hated substituting for classes but you’d rather not create a bit of a rude reputation all of a sudden. You watched the students before sitting in your comfy office chair and opened up your phone. You found a few texts from Tetsurou and a smile laid itself onto your face easily.

(Red is Kuroo, white is you!!)

Psst.

Psssst.

(Name), you there??

Do u have any classes after lunch? :)

Nope.

I have a class right now though…

I’ll come to you *during* lunch?

Sounds great ❤️

Be careful with those kids btw, I heard about one of them managing to start a fire with a pair of sticks when you were sick and someone else was subbing.

Lol

WHAT

You sighed at the thought of one of them being able to do that. You also wondered why you were never informed of it. God.

Soon enough, it was almost time for class to end, so you got everyone to show their little clay models before cleaning up. There were some interesting ones… Anime characters— someone made two clay models? ‘Go’ and ‘jo’…— the Lorax, a boat, so on.

“Now, I want everyone to listen. You have homework for this class too—“ A group of students groaned, some of them whining. “Don’t worry, it’s nothing big! Just take three pictures of things you find appealing, and we’ll look at them all together next week. Okay? Okay! Now quick, off to lunch!” You rushed them off, wanting to attend to your troublesome boyfriend. You heard multiple rounds of students saying ‘Goodbye, Auntie!!’ In their own weird way, but you didn’t mind.

You did appreciate every student of yours. They were occasionally annoying but that comes with the job, witnessing their milestones in class obviously overpowers that little thing. You pulled out your phone to text Tetsurou to come to your classroom so you two could chat and eat, but the door opened all of a sudden.

“Finally! I thought those mini punks were going to keep you busy all day, lovely!” Tetsurou shut the door with his foot, his hands full of hand packed lunches. He set it down on one of the tables before wrapping his arms around your waist. Giving you a kiss on the forehead.

“You missed me that much? You do realise we see each other everyday, right?” You teased, fixing the tie he wore today, he often switched between formal, casual and business casual. You gave him a small kiss on the lips, cupping his face.

“Yeah, but it’s always nice to see you whenever I can, y’know~” He lengthened out the last syllable, moving his hands up to your back and hugging you. “Also, you’re the only thing that keeps me from throwing a kid out onto the field and making them run laps.” He joked, to which you responded with a light slap onto his chest.

“Tetsurou!” You playfully called out, he laughed with his entire chest. Seriously. It’s a habit he hasn’t let go of since high school. You moved away from him and onto one of the seats. “Come on, let’s eat.” You advised, to which he immediately agreed towards. Sitting on the chair across from you and opening his lunch. You doing the same.

You two ate together, talking about mild topics before you remembered how glum the students in the class before acted. You pointed your fork at Kuroo, smiling.

“I also heard you were torturing my students today, hm?” You accused Tetsurou, to which he raised his hands in a way where he was admitting defeat.

“Hey. I’m going light on them, back in my day I—“ You cut his speech off, already knowing what he’d say. He normally said the same thing to every class.

“—was the captain of the volleyball team, but I still maintained great grades. Hell, I was the top of the class!” You finished his little rant for him. Even going as far as mimicking (read: attempted to mimic) his voice, to which he seemed amused by.

“Good on you for memorising the things I say, darling bunny sugar pie.” He responded in a playful tone, using his chopsticks to raise up a piece of food and put it in your mouth. To which you accepted graciously, giggling.

“Oh my god. They have to be dating!” One of the students gasped, hitting their friend's shoulder multiple times.

“Are you that dense?! They literally kissed earlier!” The other student whisper-yelled, confused by their classmate’s stupidity.

“Well— well ya know that kissing is also a form of greeting people in France or something!” They argued, pointing a finger in the other student’s face.

“We aren’t even in France!? We’re Japanese!?” A different student breathlessly argued, facepalming.

“Oh my gosh, is that seriously Mr. Kuroo and Auntie (Last-name)!?” A new student peeked from behind the crowd of teens who were curious about the ‘secret’ meeting between their strictest teacher and kindest teacher.

“Did any of you guys know they were dating!?” Another student asked, responded with multiple responses, all of them being variations of ‘no’.

The students noticed the two teachers beginning to get up once more, all of them rushing to run away and tell everyone else about what they saw. Some of them tripping but rushing to get back up and get out of there before they got in trouble

The two of you opened the doors as soon as all of them were gone, the both of you laughing at their antics.

“Do they really think we didn’t notice?” You asked Tetsurou, to which he wrapped an arm around your shoulder, his other arm busy carrying both your bags.

“Probably, they’re dumb like that. Haha!” He laughed it off, squeezing you against him.

…

“Could you two seriously knock it off. It’s making my drink taste disgusting.” Sugawara commented, filling his water bottle up at the dispenser with one hand while his other hand held his coffee. “Just— just go home, seriously.” He shook his head. Restraining himself from telling the both of you off.

Kuroo and you looked at each other, before cackling in a strangely similar manner. Apologizing to Koushi, the both of you left the building to go hang out.

… You were kind of curious about what rumors will come out of your little lunch date today.

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kiss-me-muchoo · 8 months ago

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𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚 𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐧 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 || 𝐌𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐎’𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐚 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

part one: hurt me, it’s okay || part two: here

summary_ Spiderman and Spiderwoman from earth 1610 met by casuality, she goes back to the Spider Society, reunites with Miguel and while he debates telling her she’s in his canon events, Spiderwoman makes a decision, to help Miles Morales.

warnings_ age gap! (8/9 years), angst, not a lot of scenes with Miguel, slight canon divergence

note_ listen to my playlist for Miguel!!!!! (Proofreading this later)

♪ ♫ My Miguel O’Hara playlist ✰ Index (+ fics here)

𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆ 𓆇🕸️𓆸⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆ 𓆇🕸️𓆸⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆ 𓆇🕸️𓆸

Time healed everything for sure. A prolonged smile rests on your face as you walk through the streets of Brooklyn, New York. Summer is around the corner and you are visiting the state with your parents. But you decided to take an afternoon walk after dinner with them. As the weeks progressed, soon they turned into two months. Deep inside your heart, you resented most of your past. But you did your best to let go of the pain, to forgive Gwen, Jess, Peter, and Miguel.

Some nights you went to sleep with him in your thoughts, wondering if he’d also be thinking of you. Perhaps he cared for you and he sent you home for your security, but… he was so cold, so indifferent towards you. Which only confirmed… it was only you who felt everything.

Either way, many things had happened. In two months, you have changed a lot. You grew quieter, reserved, and slightly insecure. The spiderwoman suit was left behind at the back of your closet. But something told you to bring it to your New York trip.

One thing’s sticking to you, of what Miguel said to you once, about never being ready to assume the role of being a spider. You immediately learned it after losing your best friend.

You got scared, hands covered in blood, sirens quickly approaching the scene, your friend whispering to you to go, that it was going to be fine, to keep going. But the trauma only made you grow mixed feelings towards your abilities.

Till the day you realized you were capable of opening portals and traveling across dimensions without a gizmo. Like a ghost moving through dimensions, you started doing your job. Remembering your best friend’s words; you kept going.

The temporary barrier you made for your earth was still holding you back, secure from your past, working on the present. Earth - 1610 already had a Spiderman, so their Spiderwoman would serve outside. As soon as the barrier was broken, you knew it was a matter of time before they came for you. And you knew well, if they came, it was because things were going bad.

But for now, you are having a break.

Your smooth steps are calmed and you are feeling relaxed. The city is extremely crowded and you realize how different it is from California. But your gaze lands on something that reminds you of home; a pastelería. As you read they have conchas, elotitos, mantecado, and more, the smell invades you.

Your smile grows bigger as you step closer, and before you can even try to open the door of the place, someone opens it from inside.

“fuck…” you grunt as you feel the impact of the door in your nose.

“Oh no, I’m so sorry, I’m in a rush and…” When you look up, you see a kid well, a teenager, who’s taller than you.

Your spider senses connect with him.

“You’re like me…” says the boy.

“You’re the Spiderwoman from California. I thought it wasn’t real!” you frown at him, then slowly nodding.

“And you’re Spiderman too… How old are you?” He’s wearing an oversized jacket, and he holds two boxes of cake.

“I’m fifteen. And you? How long have you been Spiderwoman? Why aren’t you surprised? Why there have been three Spider-people on this earth?”

“Woah, boy, those are too many questions in one sentence. I’m y/n, I was bitten three months ago and I’m twenty, by the way” he nods, looking at the boxes in his hand before looking at you again.

“I’m Miles, and I’m running late. Come with me, please”

“I’m a stranger”

“Oh please, you don’t meet spider people every day,” Miles says and you sigh, remembering you used to be part of the Spider Society.

“I can’t just follow you. Besides, Where?”

“My home. It’s my father’s celebration, he’s getting promoted, he’s a cop” You nod, but still unsure, feeling your nose throb and knowing you have to go back to the hotel with your parents.

“That’s nice, but they don’t know me, neither you do.”

“Please, I bet you don’t have anyone else to talk to about this?” you used to have many people. You fell in love with one of those. But now, Miles is right, so you nod, agreeing with him.

“Just say that you used to study with me at Visions Academy” You nod, feeling that it wasn’t a good idea to go with the kid, but it felt correct.

“Fine, but I won’t stay long enough” the boy smiles, feeling very happy and confused about meeting you.

So to his home, it’s rushed. Miles tells you that he fought a very strange villain that morning, a man who had spots all over his body. He also shares that he’s having some trouble with keeping his secret from his parents.

By the time you arrive at his apartment complex, you realize maybe it wasn’t that much of a bad idea to follow him.

…

For a long time, you had stopped caring about being alone in random places. But Miles had a tough argument with his parents and there you were left in the party where you were the stranger. You ignore the curious looks of the attendants, eyes locked on the two tables full of Puerto Rican food. You grab two alcapurias and after the taste of one, you realize they are to die for. The party is very pretty despite the awkward moment where Miles bolted away after the fight.

“Hi!… Miles said he brought an old friend from school, you are…” Startled, when you turn, you encounter Rio, the mother of Miles.

“I’m y/n” You are beyond embarrassed, with your mouth full of food and sweaty hands.

“Right, y/n. ¿Y hablas español?” Rio asks, her arched brow lets you know she’s judging, but thankfully you will make her happy.

“Así es, mi familia y yo somos chicanos, de California. And I’m so sorry for intruding like this, Mrs. Morales” The woman’s smile grows and you swear she wants to hug you.

“Oh, that’s amazing. You are unlike that other friend of Miles… Wanda. You can call me Rio” You nod, accepting her hand to shake. But all you can think about is that name… you have heard it before.

“And don’t get me wrong, Miles said you were older and you look responsible… but… please be honest with me” You leave the now empty plate on the table because the woman seemed to be serious.

“Is Miles in trouble? Because… he’s been very… difficult. He skips classes, lies to us, and-“

“He’s a good boy. I promise, he loves his parents and wants to make them happy. But he’s under pressure. I promise, Rio, he’s a good boy” Despite meeting Miles two hours ago, you know he’s good. You know he wants to do well, and you know what it is to be hiding your spider persona from your loved ones.

Rio nods, offering a little smile.

“I’m really glad to meet you. I’ll let you go now, pero que sepas que eres bienvenida siempre que quieras” you smile, feeling how good of a mother Rio was. So you nod, waving at her as she walks away.

“Gracias, Rio. Y la comida está riquísima!” she giggles, waving back at you, finally disappearing from your view.

Soon you turned to the food again, now it was time for dessert, which made you get lost and only pay attention to the food. When you look up, you see that the sky has started changing. It was getting very late, so you let your parents know you were still shopping and soon, that’s when you realized you hadn’t seen Miles since he fought with his parents.

You start looking around, the music is still playing and the party is alive. You start moving around when you bump into someone. The person holds you steady with very little pressure, preventing you from tripping or so.

“Woah, sorry… wait, y/n?” A female voice asks, when you raise your gaze, you are shocked. There is Gwen.

“Do you know each other?” Miles asks behind Gwen.

You panic, you panic. So you do what you best do, to bolt.

“I need to go, you know my number, Miles. You can call me whenever you want”

“Wait, y/n…” Miles calls you but you are already gone.

Gwen reveals that you worked in the Spider Society. Miles was a bit angered with you for never reaching out to him. But Gwen also shared that you had been Spiderwoman for less than three months, that you had entered the society and she as your friend, failed you as the others too. And lastly, you had a tough story with Miguel O’Hara.

Miles understood you. And he followed Gwen after she left.

…

You are going back to your hotel with your parents when a hand pulls you to an alley, it is Gwen again. Now with her suit on.

“Oh my god, y/n, it’s you!” She takes off her mask and runs to hug you. And as much as you want to push her away, you hug her back.

“I missed you so much. We all miss you” She looks very excited to see you. And you want to say that you missed her too, but you’re proud and stubborn, so you don’t.

“Why are you here, Gwen? And why do you know Miles?”

“A lot has happened. I promise to tell you everything, but please come back. For now, there’s this anomaly that I need to catch” he shows you her gizmo, and the little hologram of a white creature with dark spots appears.

“That’s the villain Miles mentioned earlier”

“And how do you know him? You said you didn’t know who was the other spider man from this earth” you sigh.

“I met him like three hours ago”

“You need to come back. Miguel was checking daily to see if the temporary barrier you made was broken. You really really need to talk with him” Rolling your eyes, you hear her. But deep inside, you are dying to know everything, every little detail.

“Gwen, I won’t lie that it didn’t hurt me what happened. I felt betrayed. But now I’m happy with the life I have. Despite everything… I’m trying to move on” You don’t have the heart to tell her that you resent everyone a little, that you don’t need a gizmo to travel and save people from other dimensions. And you won’t tell her that as much as Miss Miguel, you won’t give him the satisfaction to go back.

“I’m begging you, y/n. We need you…” suddenly, the tiny hologram of Lyla appears and starts moving around you; smiling.

“OH MY GOD, Y/N!!!, YOU’RE HERE, MIGUEL IS GOING TO FREAK OUT… but don’t tell him I revealed that” You find the humor in her words, so you giggle.

“Hello, Lyla. I love your new glasses” she winks.

“Gee thanks, I also love your new hair”

“Yeah, it’s longer.” Gwen agrees with the AI.

“You’re coming with us, right?” Lyla asks, making you sigh.

“I will accompany Gwen to capture the anomaly, but I won’t go back to the HQ if that’s what you two are inquiring” you calmly say, walking beside a trash can to take your suit, perfectly folded inside your purse.

“You have to be kidding. Besides what happened with Miguel, Hobie, Ben, Pavitr, Penny, Noir, Jess and everyone misses you a great deal. You were a very popular spider, you know?”

“Yeah, Miguel is my problem. I deeply resent him and I’m not afraid to admit it” you reveal.

“I swear he wants you back. He has a lot to say to you, Would you come back just to… At least listen to him?… we have a life or death situation growing as the Spot is out there free” Lyla fires back. You shrug, not thinking clearly before slowly nodding.

There are so many things to think about, but you have already nodded.

“I-… I’ll go, but you have to let him know. I don’t want an awkward reunion” Gwen nods excitedly, and Lyla also nods.

“Great, I’ll tell him. Now go, Miguel won’t be happy with you Gwen” and then, the AI disappears.

Oh man, what have you agreed to?

…

To say you had the eyes of the whole world on you, was exaggerated. But at least the eyes of every single spider at the HQ, we’re looking at you.

Some stare, some greet you with enthusiasm and others offer confused smiles. When you arrived in Mumbattan with Gwen, Pavitr gave you a huge hug and didn’t let you go for many seconds. And when Hobie appeared, as the man of few words you knew he was, still shocked you with a long pat on the shoulder and admittedly said he missed you.

“This is so cool, I can’t believe you quit” Miles whispered to you. The teenager also appeared on Pavitr’s earth and you were highly impressed by his abilities.

“They kicked me out” you revealed, Miles looked surprised and Jess heard you, but you avoided her gaze. Back from Mumbattan to the HQ, Jessica rarely spoke to you. Instead, you spent the time with Miles, who had so many questions; and you wished you could just blurt out everything, but you wouldn’t.

“You don’t know the whole story, y/n,” Gwen said, joining the conversation.

“I think I pretty much know most of it. That’s enough…” while you didn’t pretend to sound so cold, you did.

“Please have patience with Miguel. But listen to him…” Jess also adds, you only eye her, but you don’t say anything else, you just nod.

It was at that moment that you realized how freaked out you were to meet Miguel again.

“For sure, Jessica. Just like he listened to me the last time I saw him” the woman looks down with remorse, but you don’t see it because you turn back at the way that Gwen leads.

Everyone can sense that while you are being respectful, there was bad blood running through every corner and step you were taking.

Miles thought you were very bright and sweet, but once you entered the portal and stepped inside the HQ of the Spider Society, your demeanor changed, showing you bitterly defensive and cold.

“Here we are…” Gwen says pushing a button that opens what you remember being Miguel’s office.

“I need a minute…” you say staying behind everyone. Only Hobie stayed beside you.

“You got this, Luv,” he says. And you love that words were not needed with Hobie, he completely understood you.

“If anything happens, you know where to stand, Hobie” he nods after entering the dark room.

You sigh, taking long breaths, mentally preparing for what is coming. It could end well, or badly.

And you had a bad feeling about it.

…

The bad feeling got worse.

Miguel couldn’t stop looking at you. He couldn’t hide the surprise on his face when he saw entering his office along with Peter B. Parker.

You can’t stand the man trying to shamelessly blame a fifteen-year-old. At some point, you know, it’s enough.

“Even if Miles hadn’t been bitten, earth-42 would have remained without a Spiderman. So don’t you dare to keep blaming him” Miguel turns, and you can see and feel he’s getting mad, but you don’t care. You couldn’t care less.

Maybe your heart cared, but your head was winning.

“It’s more complex than that, y/n.”

“Yeah, it worked out when you sent me home without telling me why” Lyla pops out around the shoulder of Miguel and looks worriedly between you and the broad man.

“Woah, Miguel, maybe you should tell her about that…” you frown, looking at the AI.

“Tell me what?”

“It doesn’t matter now, Lyla.” Your head wonders what could it mean, but you brush it away, so you turn again towards Miguel, looking at him with fury.

“I don’t need your stupid gizmo, I don’t need the Spider Society and I don’t need you, Miguel” you spit with anger and confidence, but everyone knows you actually need your friends, and that you are ignoring the feelings you had for Miguel.

“And look where your recklessness brought us. You are a threat and Miles is an anomaly”

“Most of the spiders here were recruited at their lowest points in life. You have manipulated everyone, admit it. You are forcing a narrative to achieve your assets.” His eyes shine bright with crimson anger. He wants to scream at you so bad, you know.

“Calm down, y/n… please” Jess tries to soothe the rising tension but it doesn’t work. When you look around, there’s already a lot of people, all ready to jump and attack in case of need.

“I will never stay quiet again. And to be a mother, Jess, neither you should” She lowers her gaze. You feel a little shame for her, as a grown woman who can’t seem to be able not listen to Miguel for once.

“You need to comprehend this isn’t entirely about you. This is about Miles and your constant travels causing a major disturbance in canon” Jess explains coldly, which makes you even more enraged.

“Yes, and we can save everyone. You don’t know how I’ve seen canon without the gizmo and the premonitory models” Your heart beats faster than ever, and you swear you are passing the edge of stability before collapsing into a panic attack.

“Not always we can save everyone” Peter B. Parker reminds you.

“Peter, please. Please understand me, out of everyone… I know you understand me” the man sighs, and you stare at her daughter. Peter knows it, he looks down at Mayday and knows you have a point.

“The Spot is going to destroy everything…” you almost whisper to one of your old closest friends. You have hope, that you’ll remind him. He looks at you deeply, before turning away, breaking your heart a little.

“I’m sorry, y/n. But you need to stay here” You feel Miguel’s giant hand on your shoulder, so you quickly turn, moving away, standing beside Miles. Miguel shows you he has no other intentions with his hands, he wants oh so desperately to make you understand his point, but he is blind to see or hear yours.

So in the blink of an eye, Miles and you have an obstructed view, reddish and glitchy. Both realize you have been caged, and stare at each other in panic.

Gwen and Peter jump to argue with Miguel, questioning why he had to do that.

“It’s okay, it’s okay” you whisper to Miles, who starts panicking. Hobie gets closer and you elbow Miles to see what he wants.

“Oi oi, Peter Pan. Use the hands…” you turn away, encountering Miguel, who also stares back at you.

“I hate you…” you spit with anger towards him.

“I never wanted any of this to happen, but It’s the best for our canons, only you could potentially destroy The Spot” you frown.

“Ours?…” he stays silent.

“Yes. And I’m sorry, kid” he adds, walking away with Gwen and Peter still at him complaining for caging you and Miles.

“Stop calling me that”

Your head spins, and you hear Jess, Hobie, Gwen, and Miguel speaking at the same time. But Miles has a plan, he gives you a quick look and you get it.

Smart boy.

So you nod, giving him a reassuring smile.

The electricity that envelopes his hands soon invades and infects the cage. The adrenaline keeps building up in your system. Your eyes slowly start to glow as you prepare for the impact.

Boom. The silence is scary.

Miles looks at you when you both are free from the cage.

It’ll be dangerous, very risky. But you got this

You look at how everyone starts moving after the impact. Your eyes lock with Miguel’s, and he knows you will follow the kid. And he can’t lose you again.

Don’t stop running, Miles” you tell him, he nods.

“MILES!, Y/N!” Miguel yells as soon he sees you bolt with the kid.

Time passes so fast, you don’t have time to breathe. You can’t hear what Gwen, Jess, Peter, and other spiders are trying to tell you to stay put.

“You need to hear, y/n” Peter yells. But you ignore them, and you keep running. Miles took his own route, and you realized many spiders were going after you and the teenager, you knew Miles had a plan.

“Y/n, please!” Gwen begs you, watching how you shoot a web to swing away.

As you slide through the buildings with your webs, your senses alert you. When you look back, as the wind messes with your hair and a few ones stick in your forehead, you get startled. Miguel is coming for you.

He looks incredibly intimidating, his pace is ridiculously faster than anything you have seen before.

“Shoot” you mumble before returning to keep running away. You spot Miles again, which makes you quicken your pace.

You can feel Miguel behind you, only increasing your heartbeats. There are so many things you wish you could say. So many things he could’ve done, but you remember he never loved you.

Jess can get by your side, she throws a sharp kick that you dodge successfully. But she doesn’t give up, she punches your ribs and you can tell she didn’t mean to actually hurt you, but she’s doing everything to stop you from running. Thankfully Miles gets in the way and is more than enough to give you the advantage.

Once you realize you are in an imaginary railroad that keeps going up and up, you fear the height, but seeing all the people you once considered family coming at you as if you were the biggest atomic danger, makes you want to go back in time. Being a Spiderwoman was a responsibility that you wished it never came.

“You have to stop!” You feel a hand grabbing you by the arm, and the next thing is your body getting stamped against the surface. You open your eyes to see Miguel, his mask disappears and you are only able to get a big breath under the strong gaze of his mahogany eyes.

“You won’t try to manhandle my life. You already did it once” you spit, trying to squirm away from his giant hand holding you still.

“There’s a reason…” he yells with desperation since Miles could break his webs at any second.

“WHAT IS IT THEN?” You yell back. You are tired of their secrets and claiming it was for the best but avoiding sharing the truth.

“Y/n…” Miguel is pleading, he is fighting so hard the urge to explode in anger. Just for you, he needs to keep it together.

“JUST SAY IT, MIGUEL!”

“I JUST CAN’T LOSE YOU AGAIN!” His forehead brushes yours and it weakens your heart. The physical contact is sudden but feels so right. You sigh, feeling his warmth.

You know what is right and what is wrong. You eye Miles who looks at you with fear. You will not deny you still love the man in front of you. So you embrace your free hand with his cheek. He melts into your touch, savoring the moment you lean forward, whispering into his ear.

“My feelings for you haven’t changed. But you never got me back, Miguel” you reveal, caging him with your most potent webs, putting on your mask, breaking free from his touch.

Miles nods at you, to which you only reply with a little smile. You will help him, you can feel it’s what is correct. And under a Quick Look at Miguel who seems shocked by your actions, you let yourself fall.

The prolonged free fall feels like you can breathe again, you have decided, not them. Perhaps you did not know what was that thing that everyone kept debating whether to tell you or not.

The Spiderman of 2099 doesn’t think twice. He immediately goes after you and the kid who almost deactivated his suit. Miguel is confident that he’s doing things right. He can’t risk losing more people. And he can’t risk a possible future with you. It sounded selfish, but Miguel swore to never break canon again, and it was demanding him to be happy with a partner, he couldn’t say no. Even if he was forcing it the wrong way.

Perhaps your heart still lounged to beat in the signature tune with Miguel. But one thing was for sure, you would help Miles. Even when you realized he was sent to earth-42, that you were back in New York of 1610, you would keep the promise of helping him. The Spot was about to danger everyone, but you had to try. You remember all the broken promises, the deceptions and you realize you have to keep going. Letting behind what your heart desired. Miles had to forge his own destiny, and in that way, you would forge yours too.

_____________________________

I’m so excited for my next Miguel writing. I’m mixing both option I gave in my last poll and it’s gonna be bff to lovers.

Two years ago I had a crash (I still can’t drive), last year I got The Eras Tour concert tickets and today I was notified that my associates degree has been posted.

#miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara imagine #miguel spiderverse #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara #miguel spiderman #miguel o'hara smut #atsv miguel #miguel 2099 #miguel o’hara smut #spiderman atsv #atsv x reader

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pupyuj · 1 year ago

Text

→ “simple solutions.” || kim minjeong (winter) x reader fic.

— you always knew that your friend minjeong would never leave you to rot in your apartment all alone, so you make sure to call her over just to pass time. and today was one of those days...

word count: 2.7k

dynamic: g!pswitch!taken!winter x switch!bimbo!reader.

content warnings: smut, hate/angry sex technically, cheating, oral, blowjob, deepthroat, throatfucking, unprotected sex, meanjeong!!!

requested? : nope.

a/n: a gift for the most normal winter fan i know, @wintersera 😭❤️‍🔥 i made this when i was half-asleep so sorry if there are any mistakes, loves 🙏

clear skies and crisp air; you could literally do every outdoor activity imaginable right now. cycling, walking, jogging, and all the things you normally do on days like this. yet somehow, you felt like doing the opposite of going out. somehow, you didn't want to feel the sun on your skin and bask in it's late-morning, early-afternoon shine. you wanted to stay in your apartment, right under the comfort of your super-soft blankets and pillows, and—there is really no other way to put it—get fucked raw.

and so you message the only person who you knew would be more than willing to fulfill your needs.

you smiled at your phone screen, satisfied, before turning it off and focusing your attention on the movie in front of you. but of course, your mind was still elsewhere. you were practically buzzing with excitement—what with the small smile on your lips, the way you couldn't stop looking at your phone for any notifications, and the wet spot that was starting to form on your panties solely due to the thought of her.

ah, speaking of which—you heard the familiar sounds of a car engine coming to a stop, and a few minutes later, your front door opening and closing, and then the thundering footsteps coming up the stairs. you leaned back on the headboard of your bed as your bedroom door swung open, revealing an out-of-breath kim minjeong, handsomely pretty as ever.

you bit your bottom lip as you stared at her... and the sweat that made her hair stick to her damp forehead, her mindlessly-put-on jacket, and oh that big fucking tent in her stupid baggy shorts... she looked like the lamest loser in the world, but you still got up from your bed in your oversized tee and panties-only glory, grabbed minjeong's sleeve and pulled her in for a searing kiss. one where you found your hands on her hair, and she puts hers on your hips. her lips moved in sync with yours—desperate, hungry, and so fucking needy—as it always did.

you pulled minjeong's jacket off her body, smiling into the kiss seeing that she had only been wearing a cropped tank top underneath. you always have been a sucker for skin-to-skin contact. one of your hands move to the back of minjeong's neck to deepen the kiss, and you wrapped your other arm around her, pulling her closer and finally making her give in and completely melt into you. minjeong's hands start roaming your body, groping and squeezing everywhere like she has never touched another girl before. it was cute. she squeezes your ass with both hands and then slaps it, making you moan and giving minjeong the opportunity to shove her tongue inside your mouth, getting a better taste of the sweet apples you had just before you decided to invite her over directly from your tongue.

eventually, you stumbled back into your bed, still kissing minjeong until she reluctantly pulled away, gasping for air.

"oh." minjeong suddenly picks up her jacket from the floor, fishing for something in the pockets.

you leaned back on your arms as you waited for her to return in front of you, where she held a condom between her fingers. "forget it, minjeong," you said, swatting the condom out of her fingers and smirking at the sight of her annoyed expression. "i want to feel your cock inside me without some stupid rubber getting in the way." you tucked your fingers underneath the waistband of her shorts and pulled it down. and minjeong did wear the briefs that you loved seeing on her so much.

"would you look at that," you poked her hard dick, giggling at the sight of the wet spot that was presumably because of her precum. "and you said you didn't want to come over."

"shut up."

you almost considered just making minjeong dry hump you until she comes in her cute briefs because you really did love them on her but fuck, you needed her cock inside you. immediately.

you pulled down her briefs, letting it fall to her ankles, and was met with the sight of her throbbing hard dick that was more than ready to fuck into you. "everyday i wonder why people keep getting surprised whenever you tell them you have a dick when it's this big." and it was nearly as thick as your wrist too. just so fucking perfect. minjeong really was.

minjeong was sensitive, already whining as you started stroking her length slowly. or maybe she just really liked the way you touched her. either way, she sounded so cute. you stuck your tongue out and licked off the precum leaking from her slit with a satisfying hum, making minjeong bucks her hips into your hand, hoping to get you to suck her off already. "fucking get it over with, (y/n). i have to leave quickly." minjeong was saying, taking a hold of your wrist but you push her hand away.

"says who? you're gonna fuck me and come inside me until you're drained and i'm full to the brim with your cum," the thought alone makes your clit twitch. you leave several kisses down her stomach, and left a hickey right on her abdomen. "right now, you're mine, minjeong. forget about your girl."

that's exactly what happens the moment your lips capture her tip, sucking on it and making minjeong moan loudly grab your bedside table for support. her other hand goes to your head, slowly nudging you downwards as you eased more of her length down your throat. christ, no matter how many times you take her cock in your throat it was always hard and painfully slow because of her sheer size. but see, that's what you loved about it all. the challenge, and that gratifying feeling that washes over you when minjeong's cock hit the back of your throat.

"fuckfuckfuck... (y/n)..." her little whines were a bonus too. her clutches your hair tightly and starts moving your head back and forth on her full length, not at all minding the pain she was feeling from how your nails dug so far into her thighs. you were sure to leave marks there but minjeong's girlfriend wouldn't notice. she never notices anything.

"mhm...! fuck, you dumb slut...!" she was completely fucking your throat now. minjeong held your cheeks in her hands, thrusting her hips into your face aand fucking your mouth like it was your ass. ugh, she drove you crazy. every time you gag and clench your throat around her, it pushes minjeong closer and closer to the edge. eventually, she starts moving her hips desperately, chasing after her orgasm.

"(y/n).. ah—i'm c-coming... fuck..!"

one last thrust and your mouth was filled with her warm cum as she came with a cute whine. as hard as it was to breathe with minjeong's cock literally just spurting semen down your throat, you still made sure to swallow every drop, not wasting a single one. minjeong pulls out of your mouth, cheeks flushed and breathing heavily — fuck, she looked hot.

you cleaned up her cock with your tongue while minjeong watched looking all flustered as if the two of you hadn't been fucking behind her girlfriend's back for months now. minjeong cups your cheek with one hand, wiping the tiny spot of cum that managed to get there and then inserted her thumb inside your mouth.

"were none of your other friends available?" minjeong asked, her nail pressing hard against your tongue.

you shook your head, and minjeong removes her thumb to let you speak, "you know you're my favorite, minjeong." you kissed her hand and stood up, letting her grab the hem of your shirt and pull it over your head. you weren't wearing a bra, so minjeong quick to take your breasts in her hands, relishing in the sounds of your soft moans. minjeong dips her head and starts leaving a trail of wet, sloppy kisses all the way down to your collarbone, where she leaves several marks.

"mine." she whispered and nibbled softly on your skin.

minjeong might allow other people to kiss you, touch you, and fuck you, but she always made sure to make it known that you truly belonged to one person only and it was her. she said it through the hickeys she left on your neck and chest, through the fact that you owned several shirts of hers, the fact that she had a custom-made guitar pick with your initials on them (you didn't know of this), and the way she would almost always drop anything and everything to meet up with you.

it would've been romantic had minjeong not been cheating on her current girlfriend, but not everything works out fine. and there was really only one simple solution this problem... and that was cheating, apparently.

minjeong didn't like it. she was a good person. she believed she was, you knew in your heart she was, everybody knew she was. but something pulled her to you, and it was unbreakable no matter how much she tried to stop herself. you were beautiful, you were captivating, mesmerizing—everything about you just pulls her in.

"hm." minjeong traces her finger along your collarbone where she has left more than a lot of hickeys. you didn't care that it was messy. whatever minjeong wanted, you were willing to give it to her.

you sat further on your bed, pulling minjeong down along with you while you kissed. her tongue was once again inside your mouth, not even letting you get a taste of dominance with the way her tongue expertly wore you down. she swiftly pulls off of panties and breaks the kiss to look at your now fully naked body. so fucking perfect, and it's all for her.

"what's the hold up, minjeong? hurry. your girlfriend's waiting back home, right? let's get this over with." you teased, spreading your folds open to give her the full view of your pussy, clenching around nothing and so deliciously wet. minjeong doesn't even make an effort to talk back to you, she simply grabs her dick and puts her tip right along your entrance. you hold onto her arm and your bedsheets as minjeong thrusts her cock inside you, both of you moaning in unison at the feeling. as soon as your warm cunt surrounds her cock, minjeong's brain just shuts down and she's focused on only one thing: to come inside you.

"you're so slow... fucking move, minjeong or else i'll— ahh...!"

annoyed, minjeong was quick to shut you up by giving you what you wanted, but in a pace faster than you expected. not that you were protesting. she pushes you down on the bed so that you were laying on your back, holding onto your thighs as she pounded your pussy just how you like it. fuck, she filled you up so good... her cock was just the right kind of thick that it made you feel so full. it was almost hypnotizing, and you get so lost in pleasure that you almost turn into a completely different person.

you were whining, whimpering, and saying minjeong's name in such a sweet way. "m-mminjeong-ah...! fuck... please, harder..." you were gripping the bedsheets tightly underneath you, and your back arched with every thrust. minjeong just knew where to hit you, how to use her cock in a way that would drive you to insanity.

"harder, minjeong...!" you pleaded again, wrapping your legs around her waist to pull her closer. minjeong was always quick to give you what you want but it was never enough. you needed her to to use you, to ruin you, to act as if you were nothing but a toy to her. but unfortunately, minjeong was too fucking nice for all that... so you have to push her.

grabbing her arms, you pulled her down for a kiss. you wrapped your arms around her neck, your moans now getting higher and sounding more desperate now that minjeong was fucking you so much better. she was getting into it now, knees planted on your bed and your thighs right over hers. she was holding your legs back by the back of your knees, making sure that every thrust was hard and went deeper than the last. she looked so cute with her eyebrows furrowed, so focused on the pleasure of it all.

you couldn't help but look down to watch as your pussy got pounded, only getting even more horny at the sight. the two of you looked too good together.

"i b-bet she doesn't let you fuck her like this, right, minjeong?" you took note of how her eyes snapped at you, all annoyed now. "or at all... what do you even see in her...? mmhm.. so fucking pretty, but such a prude... even jimin-sunbae was more interesting—mmph..! ahh..." you bit your lip when minjeong takes a hold of your waist with both hands and slams into you, effectively shutting you up but only for that one moment.

"ever think about her while you're f-fucking me, minjeong? huh? maybe you... god... maybe you're even imagining that she's me right now... fuck you if that's the case but.. ahh... whatever makes you use me better," you grinned at the way minjeong's eyes bore through you, so filled with anger. more. you have to push her more. "leave her, minjeong. you know t-there's only one pussy in this world that can satisfy you... and that's mine—mmf!"

"shut up. just shut up." minjeong clamps her hand around your mouth and pounds you harder than ever. any trace of that careful and gentle good 'friend' of yours was gone, and you had to admit that this is the version of minjeong that you liked the most. the one you brought out of her, the one you practically created.

your minjeong.

minjeong's thrusts were getting sloppier, and clumsier as she neared her climax. moaning and muttering profanities in your ear, biting into your shoulder, her nails digging into your waist even deeper. all of these habits you were so familiar with. the way her cock dragged within your walls had you mind reeling, you were practically drooling—she just fucked you so good.

minjeong lets go of your jaw to clutch the bedsheets, "i'm coming again... (y/n)...!"

"don't you dare pull out," you held onto minjeong's neck, pulling her face close. "come inside me."

"you're f-fucking crazy... i won't do that..." but minjeong knew you wouldn't let her pull out. especially when you kissed her deeply and started clutching on her neck. "(y/n)... shitshit..." minjeong shakes her head and buries her face on your shoulder, letting you lock your legs around her waist and hug her.

"i got you, baby... just come..! fill me u-up, please, minjeong...!"

merely seconds later, minjeong releases her load inside you with a gasp, and you held onto her for dear life as you came undone yourself. your juices mixing with her own and spilling out of your cunt, making a mess of your bed but you didn't care.

an hour or two later, when you and minjeong have fully recovered from your high, she pulls herself out of your embrace and started dressing up. you merely watched, being familiar with this situation already. before minjeong could finish getting dressed, you grabbed her shirt and gently tugged her down, capturing her lips in a soft kiss before you pulled away.

minjeong stares at you, and for the first time you couldn't get a read on her.

"we can't keep doing this. i can't."

she sounded like she meant it, you could hear it in her voice and see it in her eyes. minjeong left quickly after that, leaving you alone in your bed that got increasingly cold as soon as she went out the door.

but the thing is, minjeong wanted to mean it. and you wanted to believe that she meant it. but it was hard to do that. it always has been.

especially when two weeks later, minjeong stands on your front porch drenched from the rain. eyes red and puffy, lips quivering from both the cold and her emotions. and she says the words that immediately made you tug her inside your home.

"i broke up with her. i need you."

#aespa smut #aespa x reader #aespa imagines #winter x reader #winter imagines #winter smut #kim minjeong smut #kim minjeong imagines #kim minjeong x reader #girl group smut #girl group imagines #girl group x reader

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linooluvr · 7 months ago

Text

𖥻𖥻 - attention! (teaser)

full fic posted! i can't put urls help me >-<

pairing - professor!bangchan x student!reader

genre - fluff [smut in the full fic] minors, dni.

teaser contents - reader is referred to as she/her, explicit language, pet names [pretty, baby, doll] mutual pining, power imbalance [not explicitly written], age gap [5 years, everyone is of age!]

teaser wc - 1k + [2 screenshots]

warnings - none

notes - this is extremely self indulgent (and my first time writing smut) don't mind me :D btw i don't condone this irl! this is purely fantasy. lowercase is intentional.

chris tried to keep his staring to a minimum, but it was extremely difficult. you decided to come to class in a short, flowy skirt and a matching blouse that showed your cleavage off just enough to still be appropriate for uni. your goal today was to finally make a move on mr. bang, your professor. you waited until a friday rolled around so in case things didn’t go your way, you wouldn’t have to deal with the embarrassment of seeing him the next day.

you two have always had an obvious attraction to each other. not obvious enough to draw attention, but more than obvious to each other. you’d come into class early just to have a small chat with him before the lecture started. he’d seem to enjoy your company; always happy and open when you two were alone and he would leave his classroom door cracked so you would know you’re welcome in. you’ve developed a crush on him to say the least, exiting his class with a fluttering heart and sodden panties just from your casual conversations.

twelve minutes. just twelve minutes until your peers begin to pour out of the lecture hall and you'd be all alone with chris. your heart is pounding, nerves and excitement flooding your veins. you occupy yourself with your phone so time seems to pass quicker. your confidence dissipates as the minutes count down but you decide to stick to your plan. you pull your phone out to open the group chat with your closest friends to help calm your nerves.

before you get the chance to respond, you hear chris dismissing the class. people get up at their own paces, tidying their space up before leaving. you watch as each of your peers leave one by one. you pretend to busy yourself with packing to not look suspicious to chris or your fellow classmates. you watch as the last person exits the lecture hall and silence fills the now practically empty room. you grab your black tote bag and stand, shakily walking over to chris's desk.

"good afternoon, mr. bang" you say shyly, unsure if your presence is currently welcome or not.

"good afternoon y/n." chris says with a smile. "you know you can call me chris, right?"

"y-yes, yes i know. i'm just. i don't know. nervous, i guess?" chris looks at you with a small head tilt, slightly confused and concerned by your nerves. he watches as you place your tote on the floor and rest against his desk.

"nervous? do you know why?" he asks looking up at you. your heart clenches at his words, not exactly knowing how to respond. you think and begin to realise feigning confidence is the best way to go about this.

"because of you" you say, not exactly sure how he'd react. you see one of his eyebrows raise for a second but he regains his composure.

"me? why? oh shit, i didn't do anything to make you uncomfortable, did i?" he asks as he gets up from his chair and stands in front of you, concern overtaking his features.

"no! no no, you didn't, it's just.. okay." you say before taking in and releasing a deep breath "so. i just wanted to know if… you were single?" you ask as you look up into his questioning eyes. the inquiry seems to calm his nerves as concern leaves his face and is replaced by a soft smile.

"why? who's asking, hmm?" he hums as he inches towards you.

"chris, don't tease okay?" you whine with a pout, but his answer seems to lean towards him being single.

"oh i'm not teasing, just curious. would the person asking happen to be the pretty girl standing in front of me?" he asks, his confidence growing when he notices how you react to his words; face flushed and cheeks tinted red as you nibble on your bottom lip.

"yes, i'm asking" you look away as he seems to be getting closer and closer, his cologne beginning to waft towards you. he chuckles deeply as he takes his hand and places it on your waist softly, giving you an option to push him away.

"and why are you asking?" chris asks looking down at you "is it maybe because… you want me y/n?" you look back up into his darkening eyes and nod slowly. his touch sets you ablaze and his gaze melts you from your heart to your core. "oh, so is that why you dressed so pretty today? trying to get my attention, baby?" you nod and this gives chris the green light to continue his teasing, his hand now softly gripping your waist as his unoccupied one reaches up to gently take your chin between his index finger and thumb, tilting your face up when you take a moment to respond to him. "i asked you a question, pretty"

"yes, you're why i dressed up. wanted your attention" your voice already seems to be softer than usual and chris takes note of that.

"but you already had it, baby. you just needed to ask" chris speaks softly as he searches deep into your eyes, already seeing how they're hazy and clouded with lust.

"can i kiss you, doll?" chris whispers, your faces mere inches apart. you whimper and nod rapidly, eliciting a deep chuckle out of chris before he closes the gap between you two. his kiss is so soft and tender, it makes your head spin. you bring your hands up to wrap around his shoulders as the kiss deepens slowly, the action causing your chests to press together.

notes - okay so, this is just a snippet cause i just wanted to see if anyone would.. wanna read this? 💀 this is my first time writing anything really so i'm a bit nervous to see how this will do. please give me any feedback, good or bad! if you'd wanna read the rest (i have some pretty nasty smut planned) please lmk ^^ thank you!~

©linooluvr 2024 | translation or reposting of the author’s works is strictly prohibited. author’s work is protected under copyright laws and policies. tumblr is my only platform! if you see my work posted elsewhere, please report it and let me know right away! please do not plagiarize my work! thank you :)

#stray kids smut #skz smut #bang chan smut #bangchan smut #chan fic #bang chan fic #chan x reader #chan x you #chan x y/n #bang chan x reader #bang chan x you #bang chan x y/n #bangchan x reader #bangchan x you #bangchan x y/n

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svmjaeyvn · 1 year ago

Text

love maze, s.jy.

chapter three pairing: jake x afab!reader word count: tbd (series)

masterlist

add yourself to the taglist here!

genre: college!au, mutual friends, fake dating, smut.

synopsis: an unfortunate encounter, drunken mistakes, and a sort of (definitely) stalker leads jake sim ‘dating’ his best friend’s childhood crush.

or, your life gets intertwined with a rich boy’s in attempt to not get sued by his crazy personal fangirl and like with all good cliches, sex overcomplicates things.

contents: smut, sort of strangers to fuck buddies to lovers pipeline, childhood best friend!jay, mentions of best friend! yunjin, curly haired & mixed reader, uni!au, rich nepo baby!jake, enha frat boys, lots of kissing, fake dating turning into fwb real quick, totally way too into it for it to be fake early on, big booty reader that’s jake’s obsessed with, partying and alcohol use, slight violence, he fell first and harder trope, stem bf & writer gf, (kinda overly) possessive jake, some angst to spice things up, daddy issues, hyper independent reader who struggles with her feelings, fluff and happy ending!!

a/n: hello~ i’ve never been a tumblr girly but i have went through my w*ttpad era back in 2018 so bare with me y’all. this will be a series but not that long (i hope) so pls look forward to it. warning tags will be placed before each “chapter” to specify what to expect. pls pls reblog and interact, i’d love to have feedback and see what your thoughts are. okay! yay, for now enjoy and thank you sm :D

MDNI, 18+

tap below to continue

CHAPTER THREE: CONTRACT

previous masterlist next

word count: 4k

warnings: cursing, mention of slight violence, mention of alcohol, mentions of your drunk self trying to jump jake’s bones, pet names

a/n: omg hi more ppl are starting to read this so exciting how do i do a tag list or whateva

"GET YOUR ASS up," You feel a heavy presence on the top of your head, waking up from the previous alcohol induced slumber that allowed you to stay asleep until the afternoon. Pulling the pillow away from your face which Jay had decided to throw on top of you as a wake up call, you blinked slowly to adjust to the change in light.

Jay stood on the opposite end of the room, folding up the comforter that was previously on the floor with narrowed eyes. His sweats hung low along his hips, his upper half shirtless while his hair had been shaken of the water from his shower, sticking up in a few awkward ways due to his lack of brushing.

"It's 1:30," He speaks up, gesturing toward the digital clock that was hung up along his wall, the modern sleek look of it blending in nicely with his decor.

"My head," You mumble, grimacing as you sat up. A small snort comes from the boy, pointing toward the water bottle and smaller white container on the bedside table.

"Your ass wouldn't stop rolling around last night so I had to sleep on the floor," Jay huffs, picking up the lone pillow he took down with him in the middle of the night. "Should've just let you and Jake hook up, he would've had to dealt with you," He adds on through a mumble, not intending for you to hear but didn't care if you did either way.

Picking up your head, your brows frown as you sat up. Jay lets out a small laugh, your hair sticking up in all directions due to being pressed against the pillows all night and slight smudge to your make up. Rolling your eyes knowing you probably looked as bad as you felt, you pick up the pill bottle and water, popping two into your mouth and swallowing it down with the drink that your body desperately needed to rehydrate.

"What're you talking about?" You finally ask, wincing at the hoarse sound of your voice. Coughing a few times to clear it, Jay watches with a face that displayed his disgust in more ways than one.

"You done?" He asks once you finally still in your fit. With a bored look, you reluctantly nod while he sends you a sarcastic smile back. "You're telling me you don't remember anything from last night?"

Pausing, you attempt to recall the previous events. Everything became a blur after heading to the dance floor, unable to pinpoint what was real or not. "Uh, aside from drinking a lot, no," You shrug, not seeing the problem considering the handful of times you've blacked out, most of which in Jay's care so he should've been used to it. "To be fair, I'm pretty sure I drank a lot of that poison punch Jungwon made—"

With an obviously disgruntled sigh, Jay interrupts you by holding up his phone. You squint, attempting to see before holding out your hand, sending him a pointed look knowing your eye sight wasn't the best. Holding it up close, the video replays and your eyes widen seeing you and Jake on one of couches downstairs, it being undeniable as you're seen on his lap, practically dry humping in the middle of the party that seemed in full swing while making out.

Your mouth falls ajar, horrified by your intoxicated self's actions. You barely even knew Jake, sure you've seen him a few times and sure, he sort of (definitely) saved you but that didn't open up a connection. Did it?

"Do you remember trying to fight Bianca James too?"

You blinked, tilting your head in confusion. "Who?"

Jay runs a hand across his face, turning away not knowing what was worse: you not knowing the millionaire trust fund baby's name or the fact that you didn't remember almost ripping her extensions out the night before.

"Bianca James? Daughter of the CEO that's dominating the business industry right now? The girl who literally gets driven around by a chauffeur to campus?" He rambles, obviously exasperated by your lack of knowledge though it was generally something everyone knew.

"The one with the botched nose job?"

Jay's face falls flat, throughly surprised that that was what you remembered of her reputation. "She got it fixed,"

"Well I don't know I'm not a business major! And I live off campus, everything that I know about school popularity comes from you guys," You answer with a shrug. "Yunjin says she's a bitch, so whatever it was, it was probably deserved that we were hair pulling. I play nasty when I'm drunk, you know that—"

"Bianca's has had a crush on Jake for like, four years. Their families have been in a partnership ever since Jake's dad wanted to expand to the West with the company. She's crazy, once she graduated last year she followed him here to Uni. His parents are pushing for them to get together because it'll make her happy which'll make her dad happy,"

You frown your brows, not seeing the point of his ramble. "Okay? So she's obsessed with him. That's not my problem, Jake's a known playboy either way so why does it matter if we hook up? Not that we did obviously since I ended up here but still,"

"She called you a dirty skank because she showed up to the party in the middle of you and Jake jumping each other on the couch. You, being drunk off your ass with mixed light and dark liquor, told her that just because she didn't have anyone to dick her down for the night didn't mean she had to make it everyone's problem," Jay deadpans, rather unamused while you bite back a laugh.

"I mean... yeah and I stand by that,"

"Point is, you two went back and forth until you got tired of it and tried to walk away but she pulled you back and you jumped on her. She started screaming, you were dragging her by the hair while Jake and Heeseung had to pull you off 'cause she didn't know how to fight and you were going in on her like we were back in high school," Jay explains in full while you nod along, his words causing your spotty memory to come back piece by piece to confirm he was right.

"Oh," You mumble, staring down at your hands. Your previously manicured nails were rough, one of them chipping on one hand while the other had a press on nail broken off, leaving your natural nail underneath evidently scrapped up and red. There was a slight redness to your right hand, the knuckles beginning to bruise in the smallest spot but aside from that, there were no other injuries on your end. "Damn, my bad. Party foul I guess,"

Jay shakes his head, unable to comprehend how you didn't remember a lick of last night but seemed relatively fine. Watching as he walked toward the bathroom, you shot your head up.

"Shit, Jay, I'm broke. What if she sues me?"

YOUR NOSE SCRUNCHES up at the incoming call, the unfamiliar number not ringing any bells causing you to press the reject button for the third time. You were sprawled out under one of the large trees on campus, your blanket that you always tucked away in your car for sunny days coming in handy as the weather grew warmer, allowing for you to wait between your classes while enjoying the fresh air and sun. You were perched up against the tree stump, headphones in listening to music with a book in hand.

The music pauses once again, the shrill of your ringtone causing you to let out a small groan in frustration. Decidedly having enough of the unknown number not getting the hint or leaving a message, you press accept to connect the call.

"Hello?" You speak first, the line quiet for a beat too long.

"Would it kill you to ever answer the phone?"

"You sound like my mom," You snort before realizing Jay had been the culprit in your interruptions. "Whose phone are you calling me from? Idiot I almost blocked you, kept stopping my music,"

"My phone died, this is Heeseung's number," Jay answers with a shrug, though you couldn't see him before he shakes his head. "Anyway, it's important obviously since I kept calling—"

"You couldn't have sent a message to let me know it was you and not a spam caller?"

"You're in deep shit," He finishes, ignoring your comment causing you to frown your brows. "Jake's looking for you, so just, don't be surprised if he shows up randomly,"

"What're you talking about?" You ask, not following the conversation at all. It had been a near week since the events of the frat party. No word had come of it, the first two you walked around rather cautious, prepped to run away if anyone came up to you with a stack of legal papers but nothing ever came. Living off campus, having entirely different areas of study, and not lingering for longer than needed for your classes allowed for you to stay entirely under the radar and out of Jake or Bianca's sight.

"I don't know, he went home yesterday and came back this morning saying he had to talk to you. It's important I guess. He wouldn't tell me but I'm assuming it has to do with last weekend," Jay explains, not being much help in providing context causing you to roll your eyes.

"Well obviously, I never spent more than three minutes around him before that," You huff, shutting your book and beginning to collect your things. "It's fine, he doesn't know my schedule and I go home after my last class so I can avoid him for now,"

"Uh,"

"What?" Pausing in your process, you take Jay's silence as a bad sign of him being an idiot. "Jongseong tell me you didn't tell him where I was,"

"I only told him that you'd be on campus for lectures today and he asked till when and I said till like 4 but that was before he explained why!" Jay rushes, words jumbled together in attempt to save himself. "I didn't tell him where, you're a lit major, the English department is huge and he has classes today too so it should be fine—"

"You're such an idiot," You breathe out, eyes widening at the convenience of the man of the hour that seemed to be wandering aimlessly looking around. Picking up your bag and slinging the blanket over your head to cover up your features, you begin to walk to opposite way, ignoring the poking leaves that still clung to the material. "I'm gonna kill you Jay, seriously he's looking for me which gives Bianca fuel to actually sue me if she wanted to cause she's crazy and already doesn't like me,"

"Well she has a reason,"

"She started it," You shoot back, voice almost a whisper into the phone in fear of speaking too loudly and gaining the brunettes attention that was across the way. In reality the sight of a bright red blanket being tossed over a persons body in the middle of comfortable heat was enough to gain anyone's attention, not that you were thinking clearly in the first place though. "I only regret it cause she's rich, stupid rich with the ability to ruin my life,"

There was another voice that was muffled through the line, Jay bickering with the owner. With a sigh, he speaks directly into the phone. "Alright, Hee wants his phone back so I gotta go. You're welcome by the way, you know, for the heads up,"

"Whatever, charge your phone I'll text you later," You mumble, bidding a goodbye to the boy who agrees and soon the line clicked, indicating that the call was ended. Looking around, you stop short realizing that you were headed in the wrong direction that your lecture would be. Slowly turning in attempt to find where Jake should've been, you pause with no sight of him. Assuming that the blanket was blocking your peripheral vision, you spin around fully only to let out a rather loud yelp in surprise.

Jake's eyes widen, shushing you and sending the few heads that turned a sheepish smile, reassuring that everything was fine. Catching your breath due to the sudden jump scare, you shake your head at him.

"What're you doing here?"

"Why're you avoiding me?"

You purse your lips at his retort. "Who says I was avoiding anybody?"

Jake lets out a small snort, picking one of the leaves off of the blanket with a pointed look. "Right, so you regularly go around like this?"

Wordlessly, you pull the blanket off of your body, Crumbling it up against your chest, one hand reaches out to flatten your hair that was sure to be sticking up in a few places. "Yeah, Thursdays. That's my thing, it's been cold, you know?"

Deciding against going back and forth, Jake checks the time on his phone momentarily. "How important is your next class?"

"Why?" You question, his answer being a reflection of what yours would be.

He shrugs half heartedly, looking around before his eyes settle back on you. His expression nearly unreadable, the smile he forced onto his lips not reaching his gaze causing your stomach to turn involuntarily. "Lets go eat,"

YOU SAT AWKWARDLY picking at the basket of fries between the two of you. You ended up on opposite sides of a booth in a well known burger place on campus, two drinks and the fries between you the only things ordered though Jake insisted on getting whatever you wanted.

You weren't necessarily hungry, having your lunch not too long ago and the thought of packing down a messy burger while having a sort-of serious conversation didn't seem like the best idea. Thus, the two of you sat silently, the soft music that played throughout the restaurant being the only noise to fill the space between you.

Taking a sip from the lemonade you ordered, you played with the garnish that was added to the rim. Growing antsy with the silence, you let out a small sigh. "Hey, uh, I didn't miss my lecture just for us to sit here right?"

Jake, who had seemed to be in a daze staring at the salt and pepper shakers at the corner of the table, blinks at the sound of your voice. Processing the words, he shakes his head. With a clear of his throat, he speaks. "No, no, sorry. I'm just trying to figure out how to explain this to you,"

"That's reassuring," You hum, sarcasm dripping from your words.

"Bianca is trying to cause trouble now because of what happened," Jake finally blurts, not knowing which way to start so he figured ripping off the bandaid would be best.

Your eyes widen slightly, stiffening up at the new information. "Jesus christ I didn't think she'd actually try to sue me over extensions,"

A small snort came from Jake, amused by your words as he shakes his head. "She's not quite there yet," He reassures, the tiniest of smiles quirking at the corners of his lips. "She did, however, go cry to her dad per usual. Word about me and you got back to my parents and they were on my ass about what happened,"

You tilt your head, not following where the conversation was meant to head if it weren't you ending up in legal debt. "Okay?"

"I had to lie," He starts off, wearily holding up his hands to show he meant no offense causing your suspicion to grow.

"About what exactly?"

"Well, keep in mind if I didn't then you probably would've gotten served papers over even held in a jail cell overnight," Jake clarifies, one of his hands awkwardly scratching the back of his neck as he diverted his gaze to the tabletop, studying the lines of the wood. "As far as they're concerned, we're in a relationship,"

You blink, half expecting him to laugh it off and say it was all a joke. However, the grimace on his face in prep for your reaction spoke more truth than you'd like to acknowledge. "Okay... why exactly did you tell them that?"

"Because by saying you were my girlfriend, my parents were able to convince Bianca's dad that it wasn't technically your fault. She came by looking for a fight because she wanted me, even while I was in a relationship," He shrugs, taking a small sip from the bubbly soda that was rather untouched on his end. "She had been traveling around Europe for the past month so it's believable, I said we were fairly new either way,"

"So basically your parents think we're in a relationship," You sum up, finding the confession not as serious as he made it out to be initially.

"And so does Bianca, who goes here too," Jake adds, watching as you pinched your brows together, beginning to puzzle together what he meant by that.

"No,"

"Yeah," A sheepish smile took place on his lips, attempting to lighten the blow while you shake your head in denial. "If she finds out we're not actually together she'll go right back and snitch. Without me backing you up I'm sure she'll convince someone to get back at you, so for now we need to act like it's real,"

You sent Jake a bored look. "You're telling me that we have to fake date? The whole boyfriend-girlfriend thing and all?" He nods along, albeit hesitant but confirms your questions. You narrow your eyes, confused by how rather nonchalant he seemed by it all when offering such a thing. "What's in it for you?"

"Sorry?" Jake stutters, surprised by that being your first question.

"What do you get out of this? We barely know each other, I doubt this is out of the kindness of your heart,"

He pauses, lips pursing together with a slight nod. "Bianca's been pushing for us to get together since she transferred here," Jake admits, rolling his eyes at the thought. "Because of how ambit she is, my family encourages it. As long as she's happy, her dad will be happy, and in return it'll benefit them. But they’re not unreasonable. At least for right now, they'll back off because of said girlfriend,"

"You know, if I knew making out with you would lead me to this much trouble, I would've never let you dance with me," You sigh, watching as his expression morphed into a rather amused one.

"You kissed me first,"

"No I didn't,"

"You did," A smirk plays at the corners of his lips, satisfied with your uneasiness. You didn't remember much of that night, even after the spotty memories came back so it was highly probable what he said was true. "You were eager too," Pulling down the collar of his shirt, your eyes widening seeing the small cluster of bruising along his collarbone, presumably from your doing due to how faded they looked, almost healed but still noticeable. "Didn't take you as a girl who liked to leave a mark,"

"To be fair, I don't acknowledge my black out days. That's a whole different person," You shrug, gesturing for him to put the shirt back in place to keep the tacky hickeys out of view.

Reluctantly, Jake readjusted himself. Though the small laugh that left his lips didn't go unnoticed, feeling significantly more at ease now that the brunt of the conversation was over with and you seemed to take it better than anticipated.

Suddenly clapping your hands, you begin to dig through your backpack. Pulling out a piece of paper from a notebook and a pen from the front pocket, Jake watches as you began to scribble on the sheet. He could see the numbered list you began to make, leaning in closer to catch a glimpse of the words.

"Okay!" You smile, turning the sheet around and placing the pen down beside it. "Add or change anything that you want," Pushing the paper towards Jake, you allow him to take a second to read the mock contract you've created, the guidelines in your do's in dont's to the relationship agreement.

"Number one, don't get attached?" Jake reads aloud, slightly surprised by that being your highest priority along with the wording of it.

With a small shrug, you nod back. "All cliché movies always put down don't fall in love, I don't want to jinx it" You explain. "Personally, I've never had a problem with friends with benefits situations. The main thing is to never get attached though, so that's number one,"

He hums back, in silent agreement with your words and finding it comforting how not phased you were. Maybe it was because he'd been running away from a certain someone's grasp for a year but the nonchalant nature in how you approached the potential relationship seemed refreshing.

The rest of the list had general rules: no unnecessary PDA, no outside relationships during the duration of the agreement, always stick to the story, only tell those absolutely necessary of the agreement (ie Jay), don't make it weird after the contract ends, contract end date, April 3rd (?).

"Why April?" Jake asks, counting the days in his head to see it would be a near four months out.

"My birthday's the 27th. I don't want to be in a fake relationship on my 21st birthday, I'd like to get legally drunk and potentially hook up with whoever I want in peace," You snort, planning out the break up to have three weeks of separation to avoid suspicion. "I mean, we can always end it earlier that's just, the cut off ya know? Play it by ear,"

"Alright," Jake agrees, finding it reason enough. "What counts as excessive PDA?" You raise a brow, expecting him to know the answer in itself but he sheepishly shrugs, a boyish smile playing at his lips. "What? I tend to touchy in a relationship, I just want to know the boundaries,"

"As long as you're not constantly trying to make out with me everywhere we go we should be fine," You answer, narrowing your eyes as he nods, seemingly taking a mental note of it. "How touchy are you?"

"Very," Jake admits, running a hand through his hair. "I don't know my ex made me take one of those love languages test and physical touch was like, 70% of it I think,"

"Okay.. good to know," You mumble, not exactly surprised by the random fact considering even with friends and the handful of times you've been around, Jake was always very affectionate to the boys. "Mine goes acts of service, quality time, and then touch," Figuring you'd be playing the part for a while, it would be beneficial for you both to know what would be expected in a real relationship.

He hums. You watch as he pulls out his phone, beginning to type without a word to you. Raising a brow, slightly annoyed by his lack of attention to the ongoing conversation, you relax as he puts it down. From the upside view you had, you could see the title of the new note he made which read '___ FACTS' with your love languages listed below. A smile breaks way onto your lips, unable to keep it away causing Jake to tilt his head, confused by your sudden amusement but he couldn't help but quirk a smile of his own at your infectious expression.

"How do you feel about nicknames?" He instead asks, changing the topic without hitch.

"I'm good with any that aren't overly corny,"

"So no baby cakes?" You immediately shake your head, wincing at the name. "Sugar plum?" Somehow worse, you disagree though a small laugh left your lips as he began to list absurd pet names. "Pookie bear?"

"Never any of that," You emphasize, covering your face out of embarrassment while Jake grins, finding your reaction rather humorous. "I'm basic, a good baby or even sweetheart would suffice,"

"Babygirl?"

You scrunch up your nose, a small shrug on your end causing Jake to raise a brow out of surprise, half expecting you to turn it down straight away. Your response only furthers his less than innocent thoughts. "That only works when I'm drunk and horny,"

He clears his throat, a small nod to himself before he responds. "Good to know,”

#jake sim #enhypen jake #sim jaeyun #jaeyun x reader #jaeyun smut #enha x reader #enhypen #jake x reader #give me feedback guys pls #next chapter will be more i’m going to sleep !

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charlotteking23 · 1 year ago

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Hi, can I have a request where cold! Reader with Eric Coulter. Where Eric fell for Reader, but she is cold to everyone and keeps them at arm distance, including him.

Until readers' childhood friend come to visit, and she shows another childish/playful side of herself to him.

Eric sees and get jealous

Fluffy ending pls.

Thank You!!

LOVE YOU LIKE I DO

Y/N was known as the ice queen because of her attitude and her physical and mental strength. Y/N was first overall in her class, excelling in fighting, and was outstanding in her knives and gun performance. She also only had 5 fears coming in second with the least amount of fear.

Y/N only liked a handful of people and even then sometimes she didn't like them. She was originally from Candor so sometimes she could be really blunt on those who annoy her.

Y/N sat in the Dauntless cafeteria eating peacefully alone, which she liked for being an introvert. Hey Y/N said Uriah in his usual happy tone, Yes Uriah, what do you need? I was just wondering if I could have your chocolate cake, Uriah said begging with hands clasped together. She couldn't say no and offered him half the cake, she knew people called her Ice Queen because of her cold attitude but that doesn't mean she was heartless.

After Uriah left she decided to leave the mess hall and get some training done. She left not noticing a certain blue-eye leader watching her.

She punched the bag as hard as possible she knew her hands were probably bruised but she didn't care. Sweat highlighted her face and her back where her cropped clothes were. Eric watched how precise she hit the bag, her hair sticking to her forehead because of the sweat and her leggings hugging and showing off all her curves.

He decided to make his presence known instead of watching her like a stalker. Hey, he said in his deep cold tone, mentally slapping himself with what he said. What? Y/N questioned why Eric was there. I need a sparing partner and lucky for you, I choose you. But seeing her reaction she didn't seem thrilled and asked why couldn't I train with four? What your kidding right I rather stick a catus in my ass than be in the same room as him.

reluctantly she said yes because she knew Eric fought hard and would help her be better. They fought long and hard neither one of them wanting to back down for their reputation and dignity were on the line. Y/N decided to hit him in the dick hoping he would back down but he didn't. They continued for so long that they lost track of time, and they both decided to call it a day seeing it was already 4 in the afternoon. This wasn't the end, Y/N was determined to win against the fierce leader. They decided to go their separate ways saying goodnight to each other both sour they didn't win.

TIME SKIP

Y/N woke up early in the morning like every day doing the same routine. wake up, take a shower, put on some clothes, eat some breakfast, and go to the gym for her morning workout. But today was different considering she saw a person wearing white and black clothes, she knew this person had to be from Candor. Who the person was shocked her, Alex is that you? Y/N said but didn't wait for his response and hugged him really tight. Everyone and their mama was shocked to see the cold and introverted girl hugging someone and smiling for the first time. This scene baffled Eric, this girl whom he had never seen smile, smiling at some guy. Fine, he would admit it he was definitely jealous of the guy.

Eric walks down the stairs into the pit able to see Y/N and that guy more clearly. He went up towards Y/N, his presence was dominating like fire you could get burned. Eric was not here to be nice and knew his dark aura scared the kid. Alex was 5'11 but compared to Eric who was 6'1, was short. Alex introduced himself as Y/N's childhood friend even though Eric couldn't care less who the Hell this guy was. I'm Eric a Dauntless leader here but the first thing Alex said was that he looked too young to be a leader, he wouldn't be saying that if he knew how dangerous he was. Y/N answered seeing how uncomfortable Alex had seemed, and said age doesn't matter here but your strength.

Y/N had left Eric not before saying goodbye and took Alex on a tour through Dauntless. It was lunchtime and Eric was not happy and everyone knew that from the scorn on his face. He walked through the mess hall catching the eye of Y/N laughing at something that Alex guy said. That made his mood even more sour, he sat at the leader's table trying to listen to the conversation. Instead, Max noticed how in thought Eric looked, Eric was like a son to Max. What's wrong Eric? Max knew about the crush Eric had on Y/N. It's Y/N and that guy, Eric said but just mentioning the guy gave him the ick. Max suggested talking to Y/N at the party tonight would help.

Eric had dressed in a black T-shirt and Black pants, showing off his muscles. Eric was standing off to the side not wanting to dance or talk to people, he looked around for Y/N with a beer in his hand occasionally taking sips. He was astonished when he saw Y/N she looked absolutely beautiful in a black corset top and black jeans with black boots, she wore light makeup, and her long hair was curled. But his mood instantly changed when he saw Alex walk in beside her heading to the bar.

I was enjoying the party and felt hot, Alex was next to me ordering us both drinks. Alex had convinced me to go to the party because He didn't want to go alone and had heard how lit Dauntless parties were and he was hoping to get laid tonight. Alex was already drunk and now was making out with a random girl, I felt extremely uncomfortable and looked around trying to occupy myself but instead catching the attention of a certain blue-eyed leader.

I saw him leaving the party and decided to follow him, he had turned down this dark hallway, and it was empty. Suddenly I was pushed to the wall with a hand near my head and another on my waste keeping me steady. I felt someone's breathing on my neck, I looked up and saw Eric, his blue eyes had turned dark, and his chest was pushed up to mine preventing me from leaving not like I wanted to anyway. Where's your boy toy princess? Eric whispered in my ear, I felt butterflies in my stomach. What are you talking about? I whispered nervously, the sexual tension was so thick you could cut with a knife. He looked at me up and down, and I immediately blushed under his gaze. He had a smirk on his face but it went away, he had asked me where's Alex was? I told him the truth he was at the party making out with some girl. He looked at me and said he expected me to be sad, and that was when I realized Eric thought I was dating Alex.

Eric did you think I was dating Alex because I'm not, Eric just pushed harder into the wall giving him and me no space between each other. Instead, I told him I like someone else, who is it? Eric grunted looking into my eyes, Well he is strong, handsome, has this dominating personality, and these beautiful blue eyes- Not a second later Eric was kissing me, It was amazing, I never believed people when they say when you kiss someone you feel sparks. But when Eric kissed me it felt like a wave of energy came, I eagerly kissed him back. Eric put his hands on my waste where I could feel his hands rubbing my hips, it caused me to slightly open my mouth and Eric to kiss me harder. We pulled away and smiled at each other, You don't know how long I was waiting to do that princess. Well maybe you should do it again and that's was exactly what he did.

#dauntless #divergent #eric coulter #eric coulter fanfiction #eric coulter imagine #eric coulter imagines #eric coulter x reader #eric coulter oneshots #eric divergent #divergent x reader #divergent fanfiction #divergent imagines #divergent uriah #uriah

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moonchildreads · 14 days ago

Text

small town

Chapter 27 - Kids in America

IN THIS CHAPTER: Independence Day, fun fair shenanigans, and Chrissy gives everyone a fright [5.3k]

WARNINGS: explicit eating disorders, parental abuse and unhealthy food related behaviours (specifically mentioned but not described: binging, purging and starving oneself) [if you've seen st4, you know what this is about], friends trying to help a friend with said eating disorder but they're not therapists so keep in mind that everyone is just trying their best, brief discussions of grief/mourning and PTSD

A/N: happy late valentine's day, pookies! hope you enjoy your present <3 someone asked me to be added to the taglist and i can't find who it was, let me know if it was you! (if it wasn't you and you still wanna be added, also let me know lol)

masterlist - prev - next | playlist

Bright lights, the music gets faster Look, boy, don’t check your watch, not another glance

Friday, July 4th - 1986

Dottie’s first Independence Day in the sleepy little town of Hawkins, Indiana was a very interesting experience. As someone who had never had a backyard until very recently, she was delighted to see that the holiday provided her neighbors with a chance to throw garden parties for their extended families, their heads popping up over the fence to say hello to her and her Dad who had willingly chained himself to the little grill he had splurged on when they first moved into their new house.

The decadent smell of meat and veggies sizzling on the grill, the sounds of children laughing and running around playing with sparklers, glasses of lemonade and cans of beer being passed around to be shared with loved ones - it was, all in all, the perfect picture of the so-called American Dream, and Dottie was enjoying the festivities thoroughly, only a tiny bit sour at the fact that her Dad would be leaving for Florida for almost two weeks the following Monday.

It wasn’t the fact that he was leaving what was upsetting her, more so that she couldn’t join him because she’d made a commitment to cover Donny’s (now postpartum) sister’s shifts until she left for college, and she tried to never make promises she couldn’t keep. Sticking by her own personal code of honor meant that James would be spending the first half of his trip in stuffy conference rooms and the second half resting by his parents’ pool while Dottie stayed back in Hawkins and served countless freshly baked pizzas to increasingly impatient customers.

The joys of adulthood, she thought grimly, before deciding it could always be worse. She could be Gareth, who was currently stuck bagging groceries while everyone else was enjoying their hard-earned day off.

“I think you may have overdone it, Dad,” Dottie said, noticing the amount of food sizzling on the grill.

“I didn’t want you to go hungry while I’m gone,” James joked.

“You say that like we both don’t know you’re gonna eat all the leftovers by Monday.”

“Are you calling me fat?” he said, inflating his belly and rubbing it dramatically; she fondly rolled her eyes at him. “Actually, I was just thinking - maybe we could invite the Munsons next year. I’m sure Wayne knows a thing or two about grilling, right?”

“Yeah, that- that’d be nice,” she said, feeling sheepish. “I’m sure they’d appreciate the invite.”

On Monday afternoon, Eddie had brought up an interesting point. They’d been cuddling on the pillow-filled seat under Dottie’s bedroom window watching the rain drip down the glass when he announced that their first monthiversary was due the following day. His theory, as he relayed it to her in a theatrical fashion that was so endearingly Eddie, was that since they’d confessed their feelings to one another after the party fiasco, the first time they’d said I love you to one another had been after midnight, and thus, on June 1st.

Dottie had initially been surprised he was so into the idea of celebrating their first month together and after a bit of prodding, she’d gotten the truth out of him: Eddie had never thought he’d be in any kind of relationship long enough to even reach a monthiversary. And so, after dropping their very suspicious friends off with the excuse of getting home before the oncoming storm hit them, the pair headed towards their spot at Lovers’ Lake where Dottie gifted Eddie a homemade mini cake - triple chocolate, much to his delight. They’d shared an ungodly amount of sugary kisses on the back of his van and, on the ride back home, Dottie decided that she’d tell her Dad about Eddie being her boyfriend once he returned from Florida.

There was no need to tell him earlier, she reasoned, just in case he wouldn’t let Eddie stay over anymore while he was out of the house. James wasn’t a horribly strict father but if she could save herself from any uncomfortable conversations involving her still very new sex life, she would take any chance she could get.

“You going to the fair tonight? Heard it’s gonna be packed,” James asked, jostling her out of her thoughts.

“Yeah, Donny’s picking me up later. I’m kinda iffy on it, though.”

“Yeah? Why?”

“Gareth said people complained that last year’s fun house was for babies so they got a spookier one this year and I’m not really into that.”

“It’s a fun house, not a haunted house. How bad can it be?”

“It’s circus themed.”

“And?”

“You know I hate the circus!” Dottie argued.

“You aren’t scared of the circus though, you just hate watching the animals,” he reasoned.

“Well, yeah,” she said, angrily. “I’ve seen Dumbo, I know what they do to them when people aren’t looking.”

James let out a snort and went back to his grilling, thinking of the little Dorothy who begged to watch the “flying elephant movie” only to then become the world’s biggest circus hater. Later that night, waving at her as she got into Donny’s car - and noticing she was wearing an old roomy red romper Margaret had worn during the early days of her pregnancy with the same child who was now donning the outfit - he had never been more aware that his baby girl had fully blossomed into an independent young woman.

He knew that if it were up to him, she would never have to leave the nest. If he had his way, they’d continue with their comfortable daily routines until the end of time; she’d always come to him first for advice or a hug, and he’d always be the doting father whose entire world revolved around the life he had helped create. But James wasn’t stupid, and he also wasn’t mean enough to clip her wings for his own comfort’s sake.

They’d never spent more than a couple of days away from each other in Dottie’s entire life. Maybe this upcoming trip would be a blessing in disguise. Maybe they’d both learn something about themselves by the end of it. As Donny’s car pulled away from the driveway and Dottie leaned over her friend to wave goodbye through the rolled down window, a father could only hope that he had prepared his baby for whatever the future threw her way. And, if everything else failed, they both knew he would always be there with his arms open to catch her when she fell.

“Okay, where to next?”

“Can we sit down for a minute? I think I’m gonna throw up.”

“Oh my god, you’re such a baby!”

Eddie Munson’s stomach was fine. It was always fine, because he was 1) a teenager who loved shovelling junk food into his mouth like there was no tomorrow, and 2) he practically had no gag reflex as discovered one very enlightening night at The Hideout, but his friends didn’t need to know that. No, all his friends needed to know was that he felt sick and they could hop onto the next ride while he hung back with Dottie, who was already rubbing his back like a dutiful nurse ready to tend to her patient. Once they were gone, he figured he could reveal the truth to his girlfriend and they could sneak some kisses behind the darts booth. Easy peasy, like his Grandma used to say. Or not.

“We could go sit down near the stage,” Jeff suggested, his usual heart of gold shining through. “There’s supposed to be a show soon, maybe it’ll be good.”

“I wouldn’t count on it,” Donny said. “My mom went to get her nails done yesterday and overheard the Mayor’s wife say they’re doing a tribute for the people who died last year.”

“What happened last year?” Dottie asked, curiously.

“The mall fire I told you about,” Eddie said. “The one Dustin, Erica and Mike were in, that happened today last year.”

“Ah, yeah, I forgot about that,” she nodded, deep in thought before mumbling to herself. “Kinda get it now.”

“Get what now?”

“Mike,” she simply said, and Gareth motioned for her to explain further. “I talked to Nancy earlier this week, she mentioned Mike is being like… super weird lately. He was supposed to be in Cali by now but the only plane ticket they could get was for this weekend so he’s locked himself in the basement for days. Their mom is getting worried.”

“You think he’s having a hard time because of the mall fire?” Donny asked, crossing his arms on this chest.

“Maybe. Who knows what they saw in there? He could be thinking about that because it’s the anniversary.”

“That happens to soldiers sometimes, y’know? They relive things,” Jeff said. “My Dad told me he knew this guy who would start crying whenever his wife made popcorn. That the sound reminded him of guns going off.”

“Well, that isn’t a depressing thought at all,” Gareth said sarcastically, shoving his hands into his pockets.

“Why do you think I’m such a pacifist?” Jeff said, grim smile on his face.

“Dustin’s coming back this weekend, right?” Eddie asked the group at large; Dottie nodded in response. “Maybe we should go hang out with him so he doesn’t turn into a hermit like Wheeler. We could play a one-shot or something.”

“I’m in,” Donny said. “I’ll give him a call when he gets back, see if he’s feeling up to it.”

“If we’re not gonna see the show, d’you guys wanna get on the Paratrooper?” Gareth asked.

“Why don’t you go check out the fun house while Dot and I go get some food?” Eddie said. “Still kinda want to sit down for a sec.”

“Meet us by the picnic tables after?” she proposed to the group.

With arrangements in place, the boys quickly got lost into the crowds as they hurried to get in line for the fun house. Eddie put his arm around Dottie and started guiding her towards the other end of the fair where the food stands had been placed this year, cozying up to her without a care in the world as to whether people saw them or not.

“You didn’t actually feel sick at all, did you?” Dottie asked with a mischievous smile on her face.

“Well…,” he grinned, knowing he had immediately been caught. “Would you be mad at me if I told you I lied ‘cause I wanted to make out with you?”

“Hmm, good question. I guess it depends.”

“On?”

“Are we still getting food or not?”

“Pfft,” he scoffed, wrapping both arms around her and squeezing tightly. “Of course we’re gonna get food. What kind of boyfriend do you think I am, huh?”

“Stop it, Ed!” she laughed, thrashing around and trying to escape.

“Accusing me of letting my girl go hungry like I’m some kind of asshole, you’re gonna pay for that,” he argued playfully while still dragging her towards the food carts.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” she begged. “I won’t do it again, I promise!”

“Okay, okay, I’ll let you go,” he said, finally getting into the queue leading to the hot dog stand. “But only if you pay your fine first, you fiend.”

“You’re so corny,” she said fondly before grabbing his face and pulling him into a kiss. “I’ll go find somewhere to sit before the guys get here. Can you get me-”

“Fries with ketchup on the side? You got it, princess,” he said knowingly, kissing her again before she disappeared behind the booth. “Don’t go too far!”

Dottie walked around the picnic area in search of an empty table but found them all to be overcrowded, as if everyone had chosen that exact moment to grab a bite before the show started. From the lawn where they’d set up the tables, you could see the stage they’d built just for the occasion and, off to the side, the Hawkins High School marching band, patiently waiting with their instruments in hand to start entertaining the growing crowd.

Absent-mindedly, she watched them get into position while wondering just how many people in the cozy small town she’d grown to love had spent the last year in mourning without her paying any mind to it. She thought of Mike, Dustin, and Erica, far too young to have witnessed tragedy. What had happened to them? What things were they still seeing behind their eyelids every time they went to sleep? Was that why Mike had been holed up in his basement all week instead of hanging out with them? Did the fireworks waiting to be set off behind the stage remind him of the gates of Hell opening up as the flames consumed the building he and his friends barely escaped from?

Dottie shivered at the image and quickly turned around as music started playing in the distance. She fully intended on going straight back to Eddie and finding a nice patch of grass to sit on and indulge in their shared food but the sight of someone standing in the darkness between two booths made her stop abruptly. Narrowing her eyes to see better, she realized she recognized that strawberry blonde hair swaying in the warm breeze and began walking towards the secluded area.

“Chrissy?” Dottie called, trying to catch her attention to no avail. “Chrissy, is that you?”

Weaving through groups of people heading towards the stage to catch the show, she approached her friend in a rush, happy to see her after almost a full month of zero contact yet concerned because of her strange behavior. Dottie called her name again once she reached the stands but Chrissy never turned around. She just stood there, unresponsive, her back to the crowd as she faced the edge of the clearing leading to the woods.

“Chris? It-it’s me, Dorothy. You remember me?” Dottie said, a little bit spooked.

She lifted her hand, confused as to why Chrissy was not even acknowledging her presence when she’d always been so kind to her before. Slowly so as not to startle her, her fingertips brushed Chrissy’s bare shoulder while she called her name one more time; upon contact, the blonde’s head was immediately thrown back as her body became lax, falling in slow motion before she passed out right into Dottie. Acting on reflex, she managed to wrap her arms around her friend but could not stop the fall in time, both of them careening onto the floor and hitting the grass with a heavy thud.

“Oh god, are you okay?” Dottie said, still holding the blonde close while feeling for a pulse.

“Dottie?” Chrissy said, mouth dry. She felt damp in her own clothes, like she’d ran a marathon and only now noticed the cold sweat on her skin. “What- what happened? I don’t remember-”

“You passed out on me,” she replied, lifting herself up onto her elbows. “Are you okay? Do you need water? I’m gonna go get you water.”

“Wait, don’t go!” Chrissy grabbed her arm to stop her movements. “Please, don’t leave me alone, what if I pass out again?”

“Okay, yeah, you’re right. I’m- I’ll stay,” she nodded. “Um, lay- lay down and lift your legs. Here, against the wall like this.”

Chrissy nodded and lifted her pink sneakers to rest her feet against the warm metal booth wall without letting her friend’s hand go. Her skin was clammy and pale, her heart rate erratic and the circles under her eyes even darker in the shadows that surrounded them. Dottie sat behind her, cushioning her head with her thighs and rubbing calming circles with her thumb on her friend’s shoulder. Slowly, Chrissy’s breathing returned to normal as they stayed there, listening to the band playing in the distance and waiting until danger was seemingly out of sight.

“Are you feeling any better now?” Dottie asked, softly.

“Yeah, thank you,” she smiled, but her eyes remained fearful. “This… this is going to sound insane but - I think I was hallucinating before I passed out.”

“Have you eaten anything lately? Maybe your blood sugar is low.”

“Yeah, I had some fruit earlier. And a smoothie,” Chrissy said.

“When was that?”

“Um, breakfast, I guess? I gained some weight during the holidays so I’m on a diet. I’m so hungry,” she chuckled before she realized what she’d just said. “But I’m okay, seriously, you don’t have to worry about me.”

“Don’t worry about you? You need more food than that, you can’t eat just an apple and call it a day!” Dottie said in disbelief. “Come on, I’m getting a soda in you right now.”

“No, please, I swear I’m okay!” she pleaded, suddenly agitated. “I’ll have some soup when I get home, I promise.”

“You just passed out standing here, it’s a miracle I even saw you in the dark! You need food now, Chris, not when you get home in a few hours.”

“Please, Dot. You don’t understand, my Mom will kill me if she sees me eating anything from here.”

“She doesn’t have to find out,” Dottie said, helping her into a sitting position. “We can hide in Eddie’s van, I’m sure he won’t mind.”

“Oh, no, am I ruining your date night? I’m so sorry, I’ll just go-”

“You’re not ruining anything, we came as a group. It’s not a date,” she reassured her. “And even if it was, I can’t let you go like this! You’d be worried if it was me, wouldn’t you?”

“Of course, but-”

“No buts. Just let me help you out like you’d do for me. If anyone asks where you went, just tell them I was the one feeling sick and you took care of me for a bit. Nobody needs to know. Not your Mom, not Jason-”

“Oh, god, Jason,” Chrissy groaned, throwing an arm on her eyes. “I forgot about him!”

“What, he’s here?” Dottie said, craning her neck to see if he could spot him nearby.

“No, no, it’s… ugh. I’ve been avoiding him all week. I saw him with his friends by the teacups - that’s why I was here when I passed out, I was hiding from him. I must have gotten winded from running away or something and, you know…,” she gestured vaguely.

“Why are you avoiding him? Did he hurt you?”

“No, actually I hurt him.”

“What?”

“I broke up with him,” Chrissy explained in a tone that could only be interpreted as annoyed. “I just have too much going on right now. I have no time to see him with all the training I’m supposed to do before the preseason starts. And, well, he didn’t take it well. Like, at all.”

“Yeah, I bet,” Dottie snorted. “He’s trying to win you back?”

“No, he, like, refuses to accept that I broke up with him. Says it doesn’t count because I didn’t say it to his face.”

“Oh my god, you broke up with him over the phone? Chrissy, you dog!”

“I know, shut up!” they laughed together. “I know it was mean, I just didn’t want to see him cry, okay?”

“He cried?!” Dottie cackled loudly as if they were having a sleepover in her bedroom and not sitting in the dark between two food stalls. “I’d say I’m sorry but you don’t look too sad.”

“I’m not,” she said truthfully. “I mean… I don’t know, he isn’t a bad boyfriend. He loves me and he really tries but I just can’t deal with my Mom, him, getting ready for college, everything at the same time. It’s too much right now. And I keep having these horrible nightmares that just feel so real. I just needed a break, that’s all. It’s not his fault.”

“Well… maybe avoiding him is not doing you any good either,” the brunette reasoned. “It’s definitely stressing you out if you have to actively hide from him. I’m sure if you told him everything that’s going on in your life, he’d understand.”

“He’s going to think I’m losing my mind.”

“Welcome to the club, sweet cheeks,” Dottie palmed her face sarcastically, making her snort. “Look, it doesn’t have to be now, okay? Just think about it for a while and do what your heart tells you to do. Preferably after we get some food in you, please.”

“You’re so pushy sometimes,” Chrissy said kindly.

“I know,” she grinned in return. “Come on, let’s find Eddie and borrow his keys.”

Upon standing up, Chrissy’s legs didn’t even get the chance to wobble before Dottie was throwing an arm around her waist to help support her weight. Feeling equal parts thankful and embarrassed, she let herself be carried through the picnic area as they both scanned the crowd for the tall metalhead that had orchestrated the beginnings of their friendship. They found him standing on his tiptoes trying to spot a familiar face, hands and cargo short pockets full of goodies to share with friends.

“Hey, Chris!” Eddie said when they got near him. “When did you get back from up North?”

“Hi, Eddie! Uh, last weekend,” she said. “Sorry I haven’t called, I’ve just been so busy training and everything.”

“Ed, can we get your keys?” Dottie asked. “Chrissy isn’t feeling well and there are no free tables here where she can sit.”

“Yeah, sure. They’re in my back pocket,” he turned around and popped his butt out so Dottie could grab them for him. “You okay?”

“I’m better now, thank you,” the blonde said. “I passed out and Dot caught me, thank God she was there.”

“You passed out? I can go get you water if you want,” he offered, following the girls towards the parking area.

“I think she needs some sugar,” Dottie said. “Did you get any sodas?”

“Yeah, in my pockets,” he jiggled his foot a bit in the air to demonstrate how full they were. “I didn’t have enough hands for everything.”

“Sorry I abandoned you back there.”

“It’s okay, Chrissy needed you more.”

Once the trio was safely tucked in the back of the van, Chrissy filled Eddie in about what was going on in her life and, as expected, he reacted similarly to his girlfriend when it was revealed that Jason had indeed cried over the phone while getting dumped. He was much less insistent on her talking to her now ex-boyfriend to sort out their issues, but he still remained fairly supportive of her choices as he had always been.

Dottie picked at the basket of fries as Chrissy and Eddie talked, carefully paying attention to her friend’s eating habits. She had initially accepted the cold can of Coke Eddie had offered and taken a promising sip from it, but after that it remained untouched, condensation forming a ring on the floor of the van. Chrissy ate a total of two fries with no ketchup, and only took a tiny bite out of Eddie’s jumbo pretzel when he said that salt would help her blood pressure go up after passing out. Dottie knew this was likely much deeper than just this new diet her Mom had put her in and wasn’t really sure how to approach the situation gently. There was no need to, however, not when Eddie was three steps ahead and not willing to take no for an answer.

“You don’t like ketchup?” he asked her, shoving a fry into his mouth.

“No, I do, it’s just… I’m not feeling well,” Chrissy lied, rubbing her stomach. “I’m still a little dizzy.”

“You should drink more, the sugar will help,” he pushed, but not unkindly. “I can get you a different one if you don’t like Coke.”

“Sorry, I… I know I’m being weird,” she said, embarrassed.

“Chris, no one here is going to judge you for eating junk food. It’s a fair, it’s what you’re supposed to do at these places,” he patted her knee. “You can do whatever you want.”

“It’s not that simple, Ed. My Mom will literally kill me if she finds out.”

“You’re 18. You’re moving to Ohio in a few weeks. Fuck what your Mom says, you’re practically skin and bones. Just eat the damn pretzel, please.”

“You don’t get it,” she muttered, eyes beginning to fill with tears she’d been hiding for a lifetime now. “My new uniform doesn’t fit. I- I know I gained weight during the holidays, but it wasn’t that much. She must have gotten the wrong size on purpose because it’s so small. I’ll never fit in it.”

“God, Chrissy,” Dottie said, leaning to pull her into a hug. “I’m so sorry, she shouldn’t have done that. Can you exchange it for a bigger one? You can use my address for the delivery so your Mom doesn’t find out.”

“I called them already, you can’t send it back because it’s made to order. I have to get a new one or alter it, and my Mom already said she’s not helping me.”

“I can alter it for you! We can call my aunt for advice, she’s a great seamstress. I’m sure she’ll know what to do, we’ll figure it out!”

“It’s so unfair,” Chrissy said, her jaw tight. “I’m working out for hours every day, I’m barely eating, and I’m still not losing enough weight for her. I’m just so… so angry all the time!”

“Good! Get angry!” Eddie said. “We’ve been friends for months and I haven’t seen you eat more than three bites at a time. You deserve more than this, sweetheart. It’s okay if you’re pissed off, we’re not judging.”

“You also deserve to be healthy,” Dottie said. “And sometimes, healthy means sharing a basket of fries with friends. Do you think you can do that today? For us?”

Ever since she’d come back from her trip, Chrissy felt like her life was rapidly spiralling out of control. No matter how much she tried to hide it, the years of starving, binging, and purging to be followed by constant verbal abuse within the walls of her own home were finally catching up to her. She’d spent the last week eating cabbage soup and drinking herbal teas and weight-loss smoothies and she was so tired.

She was tired of everything, of the expectations placed upon her, of the persistent burning in her throat, of having to lie to her boyfriend, to her friends, to her doctors, to her own father. But most importantly, she was tired of the ever-present pang of hunger at the base of her stomach, and about feeling guilty of both getting rid of it or forcing herself to sleep the pain away.

With more anger than she’d ever allowed herself to truly feel in her entire life, she leaned over the basket of fries to reach for Eddie’s jumbo pretzel. Her friends watched in awe as she ripped apart a big piece from it, dunked it in the little cheese sauce container next to it and shoved it in her mouth, letting out a happy moan at the taste of the first appetizing food she’d had in forever. Without missing a beat, she grabbed the Coke can from its place on Eddie’s van floor and hurriedly gulped half of it, a stray drop escaping the side of her lips and falling onto her waiting hand under her chin.

“Goddamn, Chris!” Eddie exclaimed, clapping wildly for her.

“That was awesome,” Dottie said, eyes shining with delight.

“It felt awesome,” Chrissy said, both proud and shy at the same time.

Two booming hits to the side of the van made them all jump in their spots, a familiar nasal voice loudly ringing from the outside before the back doors had even been opened.

“If you guys wanted to go make out somewhere, you could have - oh,” said Gareth, clearly stunned to see Chrissy inside. “Hi?”

Still holding the can of Coke mid air, she opened her mouth to say hello when a huge belch came gurgling from the depths of her throat. Gareth, Jeff, and Donny stood there, completely shocked as the blonde turned to look at the only other girl present, both of them instantly dissolving into a fit of giggles as soon as they locked eyes with one another. Dottie enveloped her again in a tight hug and Chrissy returned it, feeling more like herself than she could ever remember being.

“You three joining the party or what?” Eddie said, scooting to make room.

“We thought you guys had ditched us,” Jeff said, climbing in while holding another basket of fries, a big plastic cup of fresh lemonade and a corn dog with mustard on it.

“Sorry I stole them away,” Chrissy smiled at him. “I was feeling sick so they’ve been taking care of me.”

“You okay?” Donny asked, dropping a huge funnel cake with powdered sugar and a popcorn bag in the middle of the circle for everyone to grab.

“I feel much better, thank you.”

The boys quickly got into a dramatic retelling of the contents of the fun house, which according to Gareth was for babies but still miles better than last year’s. Dottie and Jeff were discussing what ride they wanted to get on next while Donny and Gareth were sharing bits of funnel cake, commenting on the pros and cons of the different rooms inside the fun house they’d just visited when Chrissy felt movement next to her.

“Hey,” Eddie said, voice low to keep the conversation to follow as private as he could.

“Hey.”

“You don’t have to deal with everything on your own, y’know?” he said, leaning to grab a few pieces of popcorn. “We’re here if you need us. I know we’re not, like, cool or popular or anything, but we take care of our own.”

“I know, Eddie. Thank you,” she said, pulling him into a hug that conveyed how much trust she had in him and how meaningful his words were to her.

“What are we hugging for?” Jeff asked, passing his half eaten corn dog to Dottie who took a bite with gusto.

“The power of friendship,” Eddie replied theatrically.

“Alright, I guess.”

“Y’all wanna hotbox the van in the name of friendship?” Gareth said, pulling a little metal case from his pocket.

“Yes, please, I haven’t smoked in forever,” Chrissy said, snacking on a long fry.

“Fuck yeah, man, let’s do it,” Donny said as he relaxed against the walls of the van.

“You wanna go to the Ferris Wheel while they smoke?” Dottie proposed to Jeff, the only other non-smoker in the group.

“Come on, we’re not kicking you guys out so we can hotbox the van,” Eddie said, stretching behind Chrissy to shove her shoulder lightly. “We’ll open the windows, we’re not animals.”

“We can still do the Ferris Wheel later though,” Jeff said. “Should be fun.”

“You guys wanna go to the photobooth later too?” Chrissy asked while Gareth tightly packed a joint.

“There’s a photobooth?” Dottie said, instantly down for the new plans. “Do you think all of us can fit in together?”

“Definitely not, but we should try anyway,” Donny laughed.

It had never been easy for Chrissy to rely on others, and it wasn’t going to be easy to start now, but for these friends, her first real friends, she was willing to try. Besides, Eddie was right. Just a few more weeks and she’d be in Ohio, away from her overbearing mother and starting a completely new life, meeting new teammates and attending classes that actually interested her for once. She could only hope that these friendships she was beginning to develop would accompany her until her last day in Hawkins, and possibly even beyond that.

Freedom was so close, the finish line in sight. She just had to keep moving forward, one step at a time and victory would be hers. It was a shame, really, that she didn’t know someone else was quickly gaining on her on the inside track.

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