#the waitress has been trying to get me to leave for half an hour

[totally-a-sheep]

Alright, flock. Last pictures of today! South Cerney and Bibury! Wave for the camera!

See ya tomorrow. We've got a few very special destinations planned! Anyway, I'm off to count myself now.

FLEECE OUT!

[shoyudon]

𝐃𝐎𝐄𝐒𝐍'𝐓 𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑, 𝐈 𝐋𝐄𝐅𝐓 .ᐟ

them forgetting a date night.

starring. gojo, sukuna, toji x fem! reader

heads up. cursing, no fluff, sukuna can use a phone (bcs u taught him lol /j), sukuna calling u "woman"

note. haiii, how are you guys doing? make sure to take care of yourself!! i'm feeling a bit angsty today, so i'm gonna write a bit of angst. i miss gojo, like so much u guys :( i might make a part two for this btw hehe

──────〃★ 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔

the one thing you hated more than people being late was people who don't keep their promises — your boyfriend wasn't an exception to it. gojo's a busy man, you get it. for months you haven't been able to see him because he was so caught up in the jujutsu world; he saves people dan and night from lingering curses that it broke you a bit.

the jujutsu world treats him like a weapon; and you never liked it. despite your constant battering on him, trying to get him to quit and just settled in for a quiet life, he tells you that he can't. that people needed him, and you felt selfish.

but isn't it fine to be selfish sometimes?

clutching onto your phone, you'd tried dialing gojo's number at least six times before he answers. his voice groggy and slow, as if he had just woken up from a deep sleep, "huh . . . hello?"

you wanted to yell at him, especially because he was the one who has been reminding you about this particular date night — and he was the one to forget about it, "good sleep?" you ended up asking him, voice hard.

"y/n . . . why did you—"

"why did i call? oh, i don't know. maybe because my boyfriend stood me up for an hour and a half. i look like an idiot sitting here, satoru," you mutter out in embarrassment, avoiding the lingering gazes from both waiters and waitresses around you.

for the past hour, you've lost count of how many times you'd ask them to refill your glass of tea — embarrassing. then telling them you were waiting for someone when they tried to ask you if you were going to order anything since there were people waiting for a table, just for the said person not showing up.

"what time is— oh, fuck. baby, i'm so sorry, i fell asleep when i was work—"

before he could finish his words, you finished it for him, "working. i get it, you're always working. clearly, you don't have time for anything else, right?" you ask him, signaling the waiter nearby for the bill.

"baby, i know. i'm so sorry, i'm on my way, okay? please," he whispers. you could hear a few shuffling on the background; along with a few curses he muttered under his breath as he stumble over his feet, mind hazy from all the sudden movements he was doing despite just waking up.

"no need. i'm leaving the place," you mutter, walking out of the restaurant — heels clacking on the pavement, "and 'm leaving you, because clearly you're not ready for a relationship, so bye."

gojo yells out, "what? no, baby. i swear — i'll make it up to you, please. don't leave me . . ." he rambled on the same words over and over again, "where are you? i'm picking you up. please, can we talk about this? i'm sorry, i know i should've—"

"bye, satoru," and with that you ended the call.

──────〃★ 𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀 𝐑𝐘𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐍

you fiddled the hem of your dress as you sat inside the almost closed restaurant, the last speck of hope you had on your boyfriend —sukuna— dissipating into hopelessness. standing up you walked over to the cashier, taking out your card to pay for the one glass of shrimp cocktail and one glass of white wine.

the cashier shot you a sympathetic look, and you didn't dare to look her into her eyes. face hard from embarrassment and shame, "thank you for coming, come again next time, ma'am . . ." she bids you goodbye as she returns your card.

walking out of the restaurant that now had the 'closed' sign flipped made your stomach churn in mixed feelings: anger, embarrassment, shame, sadness, everything all at once.

sinking your nails onto the palm of your hand, you muttered out strings of curses. you knew being in a relationship with someone who had no understanding to the concept of love was a hard thing — but honestly, you thought you got a hang of it. all this time you had been nothing but patient with sukuna, but maybe even that wasn't enough for him.

three hours. you sat alone inside the restaurant you booked for the both of you for three hours — each hour depleting your hope even more. and sukuna just managed to fuck it up even after he said he'd try. well, you should've underlined the keyword there: he said he'd try not that he'd come.

maybe you saw it coming yet it still disappointed you anyways.

your phone rang. even before you see who it was — you knew it's none other than sukuna. your heart screamed at you to answer his phone call, but your mind told you to leave it ringing because you were in no mood to talk to him. yet, at the end — you still pressed the answer button.

"what?"

"where are you?" his rough voice echoed through the line as you walked down the nearly empty street, holding onto your purse, "place's closed."

scoffing, you answered, "'f course it's closed, it's almost ten. i've been waiting for three hours, ryo. three hours."

you could hear him inhale sharply, "i was caught up with something, woman. where are you now?" he questioned. hearing a few car honking behind on the background, "where are you? answer me."

"doesn't matter, i left. and i'm leaving you, i was wrong thinking maybe i could've changed you — turns out, i couldn't. good luck to you," you mutter out sternly.

sukuna raised a brow, "y're kidding."

you weren't, and all he could hear next was the loud dial tune of the other line hanging up — now did he realize that this was all serious and you were actually leaving him for good.

──────〃★ 𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈 𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎

you sighed, dialing toji for the first time of the night when he said that he was going to pick you up for a date, the phone rung for a while before going into voicemail. grumbling under your breath, you tried dialing him again for the second time, which ended up the same way.

all these time spent on makeup and picking out the best outfit — all for nothing as your boyfriend, toji failed to show up on time. angry, you tried calling him again for the third time, only for it to end up in voicemail yet again. this time you decided to leave a message for him.

"hey, you forgot. didn't you? hope you're happy with yourself, cause 'm not."

dating toji wasn't the easiest — but you love him, no matter what he was like. and it was stupid of you to do so, all this time you've defended his name against your friends' malice towards him, saying how he wasn't treating you well enough and that you deserved so much better.

despite all that, you love him. disregarding their words, retorting back to how toji treats you well, which he does — except for the times he tended to forget about everything, even you. maybe it was time to open your eyes and actually break up; because you did deserve better than this.

it would be a shame to let all this makeup go to waste, and so you hailed a cab and decided to go out for a treat. and made the best out of everything, that is until toji decided it would be the most convenient time to call you back amidst your little "me time".

wiping your hand on the napkin, you answered him, "huh, you're alive," you muttered out, huffing.

he sighs, "i forgot, sorry." you couldn't see him, but toji actually looked remorseful, already on his way out of his apartment to yours, "i'm on my way."

you chuckled, "doesn't matter. i left my house," you informed, taking a bite out of the crab meat, "so don't bother coming — and i don't think i don't deserve this kind of treatment from anyone, even you, toji. i'm breaking up with you because clearly you don't take this relationship as seriously as i am."

toji furrowed his brows, "i forgot, i fucked up, i can make it up. where are you right now?" he asks, his voice still as calm as cucumber. but the look on his face contradicted the tone of his voice.

"bye, toji. good luck."

© shoyudon 2024 . no copying or reposting allowed !

[nolita-fairytale]

burn your life down | chef luca x fem!reader | chapter one

summary: leaving your old life behind, you move to copenhagen to follow your dream of opening a restaurant. almost a year after opening, luca's quest for inspiration brings him right to your doorstep.

warnings: fluff, eventual smut, eventual angst not use of y/n, second person pov, swearing, danish inaccuracies, very little connection to the world of the bear.

word count: 2500

a/n: remember when i said we'd get pastry chef luca fanfic whether we liked it or not? well, it seems i can't be normal about anything bc i have an outline of (potentially) 10 chapters right now based on this headcanon. while i try to keep reader characters pretty neutral so that you can picture yourself, i have this reader creating food from her own life experiences/cultures so do what you will with that. also, i tagged some peeps from my headcanon post, but please let me know if you'd like to be removed.

masterlist | part two

He’s in search of inspiration when he finds the restaurant – your restaurant. 

It’s an American stagiaire and a single conversation that makes him realize that he’s missing something – that he’s been in need of something fresh, a new perspective– setting him on his quest. 

The best things are inspired. 

Luca stares at a blank piece of paper for what feels like hours, writing a few things down, sketching up an idea, before viciously crossing them out, hopelessly stuck on new ideas for the new menu. After a few half-baked ideas that go nowhere, It occurs to him that he may be in need of a little inspiration himself. He can’t think of the last time he’s taken his own advice, mulling over the carefully-chosen words of wisdom imparted to Marcus a couple of weeks ago, and he’s determined to change that. 

A review in the paper, an old colleague’s recent trip there, and a glowing recommendation from a close friend are what bring him to the restaurant. 

He’s not sure what to expect – having forgone any interest in cuisine described with the words trendy or fusion a long time ago – but Luca reminds himself that it’s the writer’s word choice, not the chef’s, when writing the article. 

When Luca steps into the small home-turned-restaurant, he’s immediately inundated with a warmth, a homeyness, that takes him by surprise. From the open kitchen, to the golden lighting, it feels vastly different from the classic Danish-style, fine dining establishments that have swept the country. 

But Luca reminds himself that the announcement of noma’s 2024 closure, has shifted the conversation around dining culture in Denmark, and already, he can feel that this is the breath of fresh air that he’s been looking for. 

Luca’s seated quickly with care and hospitality by a highly-attentive host, which he only assumes is a symptom of the fact that he read somewhere that you’re an American. While Danish, the host is boisterous, as if he’s known Luca since childhood. Luca smiles politely in response, graciously thanking the man and his chocolate brown curls. 

The menu is small, indicating that each dish receives enough care to be excellent and he likes that, despite being described as trendy and fusion-focused, your menu is creative. It’s different. It’s inspired. 

He chooses the special of the day: the mapo tofu bolognese – a traditionally Italian concept done from an Asian perspective – and the suggested wine pairing.

It doesn’t take long for him to receive his glass of wine, or his food, and he’s pleasantly surprised by how efficient service seems. Stealing glances through the open kitchen, he watches as you and your sous lead dinner service with a kind of compassionate leadership and playfulness that warms him from the inside out. 

“We recommend mixing the whipped tofu into the dish for a creamier sauce. Skal,” his waitress greets, with a warm smile on her face as she sets down the bowl of noodles. 

“Cheers,” Luca replies, his eyes savoring every single detail of the dish. 

It’s somehow elevated, thoughtful, and elegant, yet comforting all at once. 

Luca picks up his fork, using it to collect a little bit of everything – a perfect noodle twirl with just enough sauce, and ground pork before running his fork the whipped topping – raising the fork to his lips for his first bite. 

As the flavors hit his tongue, he closes his eyes, and it’s as if time has stopped, just for a moment. 

The wheat noodles are perfectly al dente while the whipped tofu is almost ricotta-like, transforming into a silky smooth addition to the dish, cutting the tingle and heat of the Sichuan chili peppercorn-based sauce. 

The corners of his lips turn up as he takes a breath, opening his eyes as he savors the delicate layers of flavors. With a crooked smile on his face, he decides that he’ll most certainly be back next week. 

-------------------------------

You make peace with the fact that tonight is one of those nights – a slow night – as you finish washing your hands. It being a slow night, you’d encouraged your staff to up the hospitality at the pre-shift meeting. Treating guests with the utmost personal touches in an effort to build genuine connections would be the focus of tonight’s slow service. In fact, you and Mathilde, your sous chef, had been running dishes out this evening – something you rarely had the luxury to do. 

“You should go say hello,” your sous encourages, nodding towards the dining room through the expansive window of the open kitchen. 

“Thought it was your turn,” you reply in a casual tone, paying no attention to who she’s referencing.

“No, I think you should take this one,” Mathilde nudges you, causing you to look up. You shoot her a funny look, your eyes flickering over the mischievous expression she has on her face, to where she’s gestured towards. 

“To-?” you begin to ask, before seeing exactly who she’s talking about.

“Ehm. Tall, blonde, and tatted!” she emphasizes in a whisper yell. 

You don’t really need the description as you glance over at the dining room, easily spotting the man seated at a two-seater near the front window.

“You’re right. He’s become a bit of a regular,” you agree with a curt nod that means all business, no pleasure, as you move a few things as you walk and talk around the kitchen, tidying up.

“That’s not what I meant,” she scoffs with a playful eye roll. 

“You know, Jesper thought he was Swedish because… look at him… but he’s apparently a Brit,” she gossips with you, her eyes stealing a glance his way. “We’re slow tonight. He’s here every week. Sure he’d appreciate a direct thank you from the chef!” 

“I-,” you hesitate, wondering why she’s so damn insistent on this. “... yeah, alright. I’ll go.”

“That’s my girl!” Mathilde cheers, in a sing-song voice, she hands you the beautifully plated bowl of pasta to take out to the dining room.

As you walk over towards his table, you make a note that it seems as if the mystery man has made this a bit of a routine. He shows every Saturday at exactly 7 pm, week after week, for the past month or so, as if it’s a standing date he has with himself. After his first visit, you half-expected him to bring a date when he returned, or bring a group of friends, or for something different to happen. 

But it hadn’t and you’ve watched him come in, week after week, with a different book each time. He always orders the special of the day and whatever suggested wine pairing Jesper’s recommended that week.

Most Saturday nights you're busy leading a kitchen or cooking on the line – having little to no time to fixate or wonder curiously over your weekly diner – but tonight’s pace affords you the luxury to spend more time at the front of house. Truthfully, you know it’s the thing that sets you apart. Sure, the hospitality here in Copenhagen is excellent, but you bring an American hospitality-style to this restaurant – and above and beyond mentality – that feels welcoming, personal, even, as if your restaurant itself is just an extension of your home. 

You’ve heard your staff – front of house and back of house – whispering about him, all seemingly enamored and enchanted by the charming Brit. All any of you knew about him was that his name was Luca and that he’s always more than kind to your front of house staff. 

He doesn’t say much when he comes in, you’ve noticed, but every Saturday at 7 pm, he’s pushing his way through the front door with punctuality and a gentle ease.

The whisperings from your staff had all revolved around who your mysterious regular must be: whether he was Danish or Swedish, that someone that good looking must already have a partner, that he doesn’t wear a ring. 

You hadn’t paid much attention to the gossip (or at least that’s what you’ve told yourself) more focused on running dinner service then trying to piece together the story of your handsome, mysterious regular. 

“Hello,” you greet him warmly. “I just wanted to come introduce myself and say thank you for becoming one of our regulars. Your support means a lot to all of us.”

“Hi, I’m Luca.”

You share your name with a smile as he shakes your hand. 

Luca turns his attention down to the bowl you’ve put in front of him, his eyes taking in the beautiful presentation hungrily. 

“Wow, this looks… incredible,” he marvels, returning his gaze back to you. 

“Thank you. I’m sure my front of house already walked you through this but if you’d like for me to-,” you begin. 

“Yes, that’d be great, thanks,” he interjects, a crooked smile on his face that makes your heart skip a beat. 

You have to pull your attention away from him, hoping he doesn’t notice that you’re quite possibly gawking at him. 

He’s kind, charming, and he’s easy on the eyes (easy on the eyes, really being an understatement here).

“Today’s special was inspired by a childhood favorite of mine,” you begin, walking him through each component of the dish. 

Crispy Rice. Caramelized marinated trumpet mushrooms and charred broccolini. Your mom’s sauce approached with classic French techniques, courtesy of your sous, Mathilde, a classically French-trained chef. 

It’s a marriage of your story. Of the people around you. It’s your heart and theirs, put into a dish. 

“You’re the chef?” he asks, unable to hide the surprise in his voice. 

“Yes,” you answer, trying your best to get a read on him. 

He balks, and you’re unsure of how you’re supposed to respond. Was he surprised that you’re a woman? That he’s been eating your food the whole time and expected a male chef? Before you can overthink it, Luca clarifies with:

“I’m sorry. It’s just-, I can't think of the last time I saw a head chef work front of house, let alone with this much care.” 

Oh. 

You let down your guard, wondering why you’d assumed the worst when the man’s been nothing but kind to you and your staff so far. 

"We're a little short staffed tonight. And I love getting to talk to diners… especially on nights like this,” you explain, trying your best to sound like you hadn’t just assumed that he was a sexist asshole. 

He shakes his head in disbelief, looking down at the picturesque bowl, then back to you.

Luca is impressed, and he has no intention of hiding it.

He picks up his wine glass by the stem, raising it to you.

"Cheers,” he says. “And thank you. This is a really beautiful dish.”

“Of course. Enjoy,” you reply, giving him a polite smile, before heading back into the kitchen. 

 -------------------------------

“Good service tonight, everybody!” Jesper, your front of house manager, announces while clapping a few times to signal to staff that it’s time for a post shift meeting. 

As you all gather in the pristine front of house space. Some of your cooks have taken their aprons off, others haven’t had a moment to unwind from the shift yet – business picking up in the last hour or so of service. 

Jesper goes through his nightly wrap-up notes, celebrating the wins of tonight, and making sure to celebrate how everyone rallied to pick up pace when business spiked. He’s gregarious, larger-than-life, the kind of person who can talk to anyone about anything, making him an excellent front of house manager, and even better sommelier. You really lucked out with the twins, you think to yourself – with Jesper and Mathilde – when they were more than eager to work with you on opening this restaurant. 

“Oh, and before we go, a client left a gift… table number four,” Jesper says, in reference to Luca’s table. He pulls a tan-colored pastry box from another table, setting it down on a table where everyone can take a look. 

“As a thank you. He requested for me to share. So have it and let’s make a note next time he’s in to really treat him like a VIP.”

One of your most-talented servers opens the box, eliciting a chorus of gasps, giggles, and excited whispers as soon as the assortment of croissants and pastries are revealed. 

You and Mathilde exchange a look as everyone else busy themselves with unpacking the pastry box. Mathilde raises an eyebrow and you’re not sure what to say. Witnessing your silent exchange, Jesper makes his way over to the both of you, before extending his arm to reveal the card he’s holding. 

“And this, my dear…” he begins, exchanging a look with his sister. “...is for you.”

“What do you-, just me?” you ask as you take it, hesitantly. 

“I think so, yeah,” he nods, confidently. 

To the Chef, the front of the card reads. 

“Jesper, let’s check out some of these pastries, yeah?” Mathilde suggests, not so subtly hinting towards her brother. 

He nods, giving you a little space so that you can read the card Luca’s left for you. 

As your staff divvy up the box of laminated pastries, sighing with joy as they taste the decadent, hand-crafted sweets, you take a few steps away to open the note. His handwriting is pristine – perfectly neat in every way, like he’s written over carefully measured invisible lines.

Chef,

Thank you for all of the great meals. I'd like to return the favor, that is, if you're open to it. 

Tomorrow. 5 pm. Dronningens Tværgade 2, 1302

While Luca’s gift has been more-than-generous, you find yourself overwhelmed by questions. Was he a chef too? And why had he not said anything? And what was this gesture all about anyways?

You read the card a few more times, turning the words over in your head as you try to make sense of it. 

Mathilde can see your overwhelm, your eyebrows knitted into one confused expression as she saunters back over to you.

“What does it say?” she asks, curiously. “A love confession perhaps?”

“Mathilde, you really have to stop reading all of those French romance novels!” you tease her. “It’s giving you too many ideas.”

“It’s the only way I keep up with my French!” she defends herself with a lackadaisical shrug, earning a laugh from you.

“Uh no… it’s actually a thank you card… only I think he… wants to feed me,” you share with her, holding the card out so that she can take a look. 

“He’s a chef too?” she asks, taking the card from your hands. 

“I think so, yeah,” you reply, letting out an exasperated laugh. 

“Oh shit!” Mathilde exclaims, as soon as she sees the address that Luca’s written down. 

“What?” you ask her, wondering if there’s something you missed. 

“The address… that’s AOC. I think he’s a chef at AOC, babe,” she gasps, shaking her head as she hands the card back to you, sending a ‘you lucky, bitch’ look your way.

Oh shit, is right.

[queen-of-deans-booty]

Finally // beautiful stranger

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2.2k (including lyrics)

Warnings: angst, mostly fluff

Summary: You’ve got your heart broken once and you refuse to do it again. When a tall, green-eyed stranger walks into your life, you have to make sure he’s going to stay before letting him in completely.

Square Filled: finally // beautiful stranger by halsey (2020) for @spnsongchallengebingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

x

Your eyes, so crisp, so green Sour apple baby, but you taste so sweet You got hips like Jagger and two left feet And I wonder if you'd like to meet

The only twenty-four-hour diner is across town from where you live but you find yourself in it anyway. The place isn’t busy considering it’s nearing one in the morning but you don’t want to go home. If you do, you’ll think about him and you really don’t want to cry yourself to sleep. At last here, you can compose yourself not to cry in front of people.

That, and you’re always hungry after getting your heart broken.

“Let me top your coffee off,” the waitress says and fills your cup again.

“I want another round, please. Bourbon. Neat.”

“Sure.”

When the waitress leaves, you finally notice the two men on the other side of the diner. One has his back to you but the other one is facing toward you and by God, this man is gorgeous. Even from where you’re sitting, you can see his crisp green eyes. Like candy apples. The sight makes you sad. Your ex was just as beautiful, and here you are eating your sorrows away. You look down and take a bite of your pie with a sniffle. The waitress comes back with your Bourbon, and you take a big gulp of it.

The green-eyed man says something to his friend before walking over to you.

“Are you okay?”

You down the rest of the Bourbon even though it burns. “What makes you think I’m not?”

“You’re crying.”

“Yeah, because of pig-headed men. I hate men,” you scoff and take another bite of your pie.

He chuckles not at you but at your comment. “Can I sit?”

“Sure. Want some of my pie? Alcohol fills me up and I won’t be able to eat this all.”

“Don’t mind if I do.” He takes your fork and scoops some pie onto it before eating it. “My name is Dean.”

“I hope you treat your lady better than my man did, Dean.”

“I don’t have a lady but if I did, I would.” You nod and take the fork back for another bite. “Want me to beat him up?”

Maybe it’s your drunken brain or maybe it was genuinely funny, but you laugh at the thought of your ex getting beat by some stranger.

“You might not be able to take him on. He’s pretty big.”

“You clearly have no idea who I am, sweetheart. I’ll get my brother to help.” You giggle and bite your lower lip to stop your grin from spreading too wide. “What a shame.”

“What?”

“I know I shouldn’t be hitting on you but that guy doesn’t know what he gave up.”

“What do you mean?”

“He had a woman with the most gorgeous smile. If you were mine, I’d never want to stop seeing it.”

You smile again, this time, a shy one. It makes you sad because all beautiful men are like this.

Your voice is velvet through a telephone You can come to mine, but both my roommates are home Think I know a bar where they would leave us alone And I wonder if you'd take it slow

You and Dean kept in touch after meeting him half-drunk and crying over another man, and you’re kind of nervous to let him in more. You have a daughter who you love dearly, and bringing in strangers isn’t something you want to do to her. You don’t want her getting to know someone, bond with him, only for him to leave. Her father didn't want her so how can you expect anyone else to stay?

You and Dean hang when you can, when you have someone else to watch her, but finding a sitter is hard enough as it is. You don’t make a lot of money because you depended on your ex-boyfriend for everything. You didn’t have to work when he paid for everything. You’re trying your best even if it doesn’t feel like it.

“It’s been a while since I’ve heard your voice,” Dean says over the phone.

His voice is so velvety smooth that it makes you get butterflies from words alone.

“Sorry, I’ve been a bit busy. It’s been hard to get away.”

“I get it. Look, I have some free time now. I’d like to see you.”

You think of Amelia and how you can’t leave her here alone. She’s only six, she needs someone to watch her.

“I’d love to, Dean, but I have a daughter here that I can’t leave alone. I can’t afford a sitter right now otherwise I’d say yes.”

“Right. Of course, I understand.”

He sounds disappointed. You bite your lower lip in thought. Your sister lives a few houses down from you. If she says yes, you can leave and hang with Dean at a bar or something. You don’t want him coming here. As much as you like him, you’re not ready for Amelia to meet him.

“Let me ask my sister if she can watch her. I’ll text you if I can or not.”

“If you can, I’ll be at Joe’s. I hope to see you there.”

You immediately dial your sister because it’s a lot harder for her to say no to you over the phone rather than text.

“Hey, Y/N.”

“Okay, don’t say no right away. Just listen to me.”

“You want me to watch Amelia?”

“Just for a little bit. Maybe a couple of hours. I met this guy. His name is Dean.” You hear her sigh which makes you pause. You know this sigh. It’s a disappointed sigh. “Jess, it’s not what you think.”

“You just broke up with Trevor how long ago? You already met someone?”

“It’s not like I’m going to marry him. I just… I can’t explain it. He’s nice…”

“Trevor was nice.”

“Jess, please? Just a couple of hours. I’ll pay you if you want.”

“No, you don’t need to do that,” she sighs. “Fine, I’ll watch her only for two hours.”

“You got it. Thank you.”

“I hope you know what you’re doing. I’d hate to see you hurt over yet another guy.”

Trust me, me too. After she comes over, Amelia is happy to see her aunt. Joe’s is only ten minutes from your place, and you text Dean you’ll be right there. He’s in the back playing with darts when you arrive, and you head over with a smile.

“I’m glad you could make it.”

“Yeah, me too.”

“So, you have a daughter?”

“Yeah, her name is Amelia. She’s my pride and joy. My ex was her father, and you know that didn’t end too well. I’d have you come over but I don’t want her meeting someone still so new, you know?”

“Yeah. I get it. Trust me.”

“I like you, Dean. I just need to take it slow.”

“Whatever you need to feel safe.”

Just like that, you fall for him a bit more.

I grab your hand and then we run to the car Singin' in the street and playin' air guitar Stuck between my teeth just like a candy bar And I wonder if it goes too far to say

After two months of dating, you decide it’s best if he gets to meet Amelia. You’re not sure if it’s going to crash and burn or work out but you have to put faith in this decision. Dean has been nothing but good to you, so you’re taking the chance he’ll love your daughter. Amelia knows you’ve been seeing someone. She’s not stupid. She’s a very smart six-year-old--too smart for her own good.

“Dean is almost here.”

“Do you like him, Mommy?”

“I do,” you smile.

Amelia shrugs and goes back to coloring. Dean shows up in his gorgeous Impala that you love riding in. He even let you drive it once which was thrilling. You leave Amelia coloring in the living room to greet Dean at the door. He keeps the kiss short and sweet knowing your daughter is here. You turn to let him in when you see your daughter standing right behind you with her hands on her hips.

“Hi, you must be Amelia. My name is--”

“Are you gonna break my Mommy’s heart like Daddy did?”

You’re taken aback by the question. Dean doesn’t seem scared by her sass, in fact, he encourages it.

“No, I won’t.”

“You better not, mister. I know how to fight.” Dean can’t help but laugh. “You better be a good one.”

“Okay, why don’t you go play in your room.” Amelia leaves without another word, and you close the front door with an apologetic face. “I’m sorry about her. It’s been rough lately.”

“She’s a cute kid. I know we agreed to stay in tonight, but what do you say I take you and Amelia out? Maybe to a zoo? I bet she’d love seeing the animals.”

You look out the window and see his shiny black car. You love his car but it’s not suitable for Amelia.

“You know I love your car, but there are no seatbelts. I am not putting my baby in a car with no seatbelts.”

“Yeah, okay,” he nods.

You two settle on the couch and put a movie on that you both love. Within the first act, he pulls you into him and wraps his arm around you. You should be happy, and you’re trying really hard to be, but Trevor behaved the exact same way. He was so nice and loving in the beginning but he let his true colors show later on. Had you not run when you did, you would have had bruises on your body from him.

Still, through all that fear, you can’t seem to stay away from Dean.

I've never recognized a purer face You stopped me in my tracks and put me right in my place Used to think that lovin' meant a painful chase But you're right here now and I think you'll stay

It’s been a week since Dean promised to take you and Amelia to the zoo. He promised to have a car that is safe enough for your daughter, so you’re not sure if that means upgrading the Impala or getting another car altogether. Dean loves his car so you don’t think he’d give up his precious car for you.

“Amelia, are you ready?”

“Yes!”

“Are you excited?”

“I can’t wait to see the lions, Mama! And the giraffes!”

“If you’re lucky, you might get a kiss from a giraffe.”

Amelia giggles as you help put her shoes on.

“I hope you keep this one. I like him.”

“I like him, too.” Then again, I liked the other one. A car you don’t recognize pulls up to your house, and you take two steps outside to see who it could be. Dean exits and smiles when he sees your confused face. He’s not driving his beloved Impala. He’s driving a new version of a Dodge Ram. “Whose car is that?”

“Mine. I bought it yesterday.”

“Why?”

“It has seatbelts.” Your heart melts a bit. “Now I can take Amelia out without you worrying about her safety. I hear this is a really good car.”

“You’d do that for her?”

“I’d do that for you.”

You want to move toward him and kiss him but you’re stuck. You can’t move. You’re shocked because Trevor would have never done this for you or Amelia. He loved driving sports cars that were never safe for children, and he refused to get a car that could support her.

Dean might be a keeper.

Oh, we're dancin' in my livin' room And up come my fists And I say, I'm only playing, but The truth is this I've never seen a mouth that I would kill to kiss And I'm terrified, but the truth is this I said Beautiful stranger, here you are in my arms and I know That beautiful strangers only come along to do me wrong And I hope Beautiful stranger, here you are in my arms And I think it's finally, finally, finally, finally, finally safe For me to fall

Amelia is sleeping but you and Dean wanted to have date night. Your sister isn’t in town to watch her and you didn’t want to take her to a bar at such a late hour. Dean offered to bring the date to you, which is why you two are slow dancing in your darkened living room. The only source of light is the candles you lit prior to him coming.

Soft rock flows through your speakers at a low tone so as not to wake Amelia, but Dean doesn’t mind. Dean runs his hands down your waist and grips your hips gently, and you lean up to press your lips against his. You’ve never felt this way about anyone, not even Trevor. He says all the right things, does all the right things, and knows exactly how to make your heart flutter.

You’re still terrified but it’s a good terrified. You’re scared of what this could mean, not that he could break your heart.

You pull away from him and stare into his beautiful green eyes.

“Don’t make me regret falling for you,” you whisper.

He leans his forehead on yours.

“I won’t.”

x

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[erwinsvow]

ive been rereading ur bitchy reader stuffs n pleek do more of the pope cameo.. HER SAYING DICK APPT WHEN RAFE COMPLAINED ABT HER HAVING POPES NUMBER MADE ME GIGGLE OUT LOUD pretty please give us more of them 🤲

i imagine her being pissed off at rafe so she keeps giving him the cold shoulder and when he asks something she’d just go “maybe i should’ve gone to heywards instead he wont treat me like this 🙄” BUT ITS SO FUNNY KNOWING SHE DOESNT LIKE POGUES !!!!

LMFAOOO THIS IS KILLING ME!! one thing about my readers, their secret pogue crush is always gonna be pope <3

one thing you had in common with rafe—despite the glaring differences that were so hard to ignore—was that you both didn't care much for pogues.

that was putting it lightly, rafe despised them and you just didn't like them. but some were more tolerable than others—for example, the maybank boy who seemed to you the equivalent of a toddler with sticky hands versus pope heyward, who used to tutor in math. you don't know why or how they're friends, just that you like pope enough to be friendly, or rather polite, and you definitely don't like maybank enough to even think about him.

rafe didn't like any of them, and you didn't really care. you weren't in the habit of defending pogues, and certainly not when you were constantly trying to remind sarah to stay away from them, even though she never listened.

but seeing how angry rafe seemed to get at the mere mention was enough to give you some ideas. when you had jokingly—although now you remember you hadn't really ever clarified—said that you had pope's number because of dick appointments, rafe had gotten so angry it had resulted in the best sex of your life.

you were curious to know what else you could get out of it. unfortunately, your curiosity didn't last for very long. rafe pissed you off just as much as you pissed him off, and though these thoughts were often in one ear and out the other for you.

like today. you had been waiting for twenty whole minutes at the club for rafe, who had insisted he would be on time even though you knew he would probably run late since he was coming from barry's—all the way across town.

all he had to do was admit it, and you would have come later, but instead he had told you to show up at noon and that he wasn't going to be late.

normally you would show up at half past and just tell him to fuck off, but if he really was on time you would never hear the end of it. so you showed up on time and waited... and waited.

rafe finally shows up about forty minutes later, and you stare at him with your signature look—eyes rolling back, an i-told-you-so expression with arms crossed. you could make it more withering if you wanted, but right now you just wanted to hear rafe admit he was wrong.

"shut the fuck up," he says, taking a seat the table. your half drunken diet coke has left a ring of condensation, and you move the cup towards you, wondering how you'd become the kind of girl that waits forty minutes for a guy to show up.

"first of all, i didn't even say anything. second of all, you shut the fuck up. i'm the one who was forty-fucking-minutes late."

"it took longer-"

"longer than you thought? yeah, i said that. yesteday."

"well m'here now, so just order."

you huff, scanning the menu and not sure exactly what retort to use. instead you settle for shutting up entirely, not speaking to rafe the entire time. the waitress comes and goes, the food comes and goes, and you look up when rafe speaks but don't say anything back.

rafe thinks you'll give it up once lunch is over, but you grew up in a household where an hour of silent treatment is child's play. so the car ride to tannyhill, throughout the movie you put on and when you walk away to make popcorn, you haven't said a word.

while the movie credits roll, you look down at your phone, waiting for your apology and deciding when to leave if you don't get it.

"are you seriously gonna ignore me the entire day?"

you stare at rafe, not answering. this is your withering look.

"fine, princess. your choice," rafe shrugs. "finally got you to shut up for once."

you take a moment for his words to really hit you. like any other girl in the world, that comment from your boyfriend hurts a little. it even stings. you don't like the words in the air and you can even tell it left a bitter taste in rafe's mouth. he looks like he's just realizing he overstepped a little. then, for the first time since you saw rafe that day, you speak.

"you know, it's a good thing i didn't delete heyward's number from my phone. times like this i realize how handy it can be."

"what the fuck is th-"

"i mean, really, rafe. even these pogues you hate so much would treat me better than you do. i should go call him up now-"

"okay, princess i get it-"

"bet he'd probably fuck me better than-"

"okay, enough. jesus, i get it. m'sorry, okay? can you knock it off now?"

"i'm not knocking anything off. and you can go fuck yourself if you can't apologize for a little thing like being late-"

"i'm sorry, okay? now can you stop talking about pope fuckin' heyward?" you huff, finally a little pleased he apologized.

"thank you. was that so hard?"

"oh shut up-"

"you shut up. and don't be late again. or i'll show you fuckin' heyward-"

"enough!"

[fandomtherapy44]

Congrats you're a dad! Dean x reader one shot!

Summary: Dean Winchester the man who came and went that seemed like in a blink of an eye. But he left some thing behind your Daughter.

Paring: Dean x reader

word count: 2.4k

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cafekitsune

Warnings: swearing, MILD SMUT, Feelings all around

AN/ So I got very inspired by seeing posts of how Dean deserved to be a dad! Here is my story of that and this would take place after season 15 so he is alive and happy! Hope you enjoy!

Six Years since I last saw Dean Winchester, the man that came and left in an blink of an eye. The charming yet somewhat earnest type that I always fell for helped that he was hot as hell. Those crystal green eyes, white prince smile, glitter freckle kissed skin that almost made you believe in miracles. I was the waitress at the restaurant where he and his partner went every night while they were in town trying to find a missing person and thankfully they did but with that came a goodbye. But he did leave me with something, not an std but our daughter.

I wanted to tell him so many times but how was I supposed to tell this barely a familiar hook up that he had a kid. When he left he told me that he liked me and maybe if he was staying around we could try something but he wasn't. I found out I was pregnant with Bella two weeks later. So was I really going to tell a guy I didn't even really know that he was a dad and potentially ruin his career and break my heart if he told me to screw off. The answer was no.

So here I was six years later with the best little girl in the world and trying my best. “Hey mom could you please pick Bella up? I have to pick up this shift.” I was balancing my phone between my shoulder and ear while my hands were full of plates of food while I was widing through the sticky tables. “Of course sweetie I'll see you at eight.” My mom has been my biggest supporter since the day I was pregnant.”Ok thank you so much love you bye oh and don’t let her eat so much ice cream again she threw up all over the couch last time.” “I'm her grandma, I'm supposed to spoil her.” “Bye Mom.” I said in a loving jokey way. 

It was almost seven thirty when I was walking up to my table and had just gotten satten. I was carrying two glasses of water to the table when I heard a voice that I thought I would never hear again. “Oh Hey Y/n right? You're still working here, that's cool.” I look up and drop the water. It was Dean fucking Winchester. “Whoa you okay?” he swooped down to help pick up the pieces of now broken glasses. I can’t even look at him. “Hey Y/n” He grabbed my hand I didn’t realize but it was bleeding. “Are you okay?” I barely get a word out. “Hey can I get a towel or bandaid please!?”

He called out and a co-worker ran over. “Is she okay?” “Dean, I'm fine.” My friend’s eyes widened knowing that name. “Uh, why don't you take a break? I'll bring more waters” I begged with my body for her to stay but she ignored me knowing that was not her place. We sat down in the booth. I kept staring at my bloody hand hoping it was a terrible nightmare but then he spoke again.

“I know it's been a while since I've been here but I swear that I had good reason to. I had to take care of something that took longer than expected. I wanted to come back. I've missed this place, you.” My heart flutters a little. “It’s okay not like you had something to come back to.” I know that’s a little harsh but I was trying to drive him away as quickly as possible. “Well you're here and I don’t know about you but I had an amazing time when I was last here.”

My head flashed back to that night the last night he was here we were together for hours in the sheets. It wasn't just sex but we talked about our hopes and dreams. Maybe that's why I wanted to talk to him a little longer. “I guess you're right it wasn’t half bad.” I smirked. “Half Bad? Excuse me but I believe you were the one begging for more-” Before he can go on I kick him. “Fine, you were great, happy.”

“Very happy, hey did you ever go to college for acting.” what? He remembered my dream not even boyfriends who had been with me for a long time remembered that. “I can't believe you still know that.” “How could I forget, your face lit up talking about it every time.” We both smiled thinking about those times. But the air froze when we heard another voice. “Mommy! I can’t wait to show you my drawing!” Bella ran over and jumped in my lap. I looked at the clock and it was eight fifteen, shit.

“Oh, baby I'm sure it's so beautiful I'll look at home okay.” “But Mommy!” I started to try to get up but being a six year old she was dragging her feet. “But Momma!” “Bella! Let's go!” I hated it when my yelling voice came out. I finally looked at Dean and he looked like he had been slapped in the face. “Hey mister, would you like to see?” She asked Dean kindly like I had taught her. “Bella he's busy-” “I would love to.” She pulled out a picture and it was a drawing of a family.

“You see that's me and mommy and that's grandma.” He nods looking out the picture. “It's really good, Hey do you have a daddy Bella?” He asked the question I had been fearing. “No, I don’t.” She answered so quickly and without thought it broke my heart. “And how old are you Bella?” “I’m this many” She holds up six fingers. Dean just sits there thinking. “Bella, could you go back to your grandma?” She seems sad. “You can get ice cream!” I tried. Of course, she jumps up and runs to the counter. I sit back down at the booth sighing. “Dean I-” he holds up his hand with tears in his eyes. “I just have one question. Is she my daughter?” “Yes.”

It had been at least twenty minutes. I broke the ice. “Dean, I don't even know where to start.” “How about you start why you kept my fucking child away from me?” He was mad of course who wouldn't be. “Dean you have to understand why I did it, I didn't tell you because I knew what kind of job you had and that you couldn't just drop everything. I mean you told me you couldn't stay.” “You don't think my kid would change that!?” I had tears building up.

“I didn't know you Dean, I didn't want a guy to tell me to screw off that I was just starting to really like and that I knew you just couldn't stay.” He’s silent again. “I want to know her.” I'm a little shocked. “Dean I know it was fucked up of me to keep this from you but you can't just go away because of a job or something that needs you for weeks I won't allow Bella to be hurt like that.” He did not hesitant “I won’t.” 

And from there on out it was kind of nice. We had set up a system where Bella could spend time with Dean so we didn't freak her out when we told her. I could really see both of them loving each other. I met his brother and he was very surprised to hear he had a niece. Bella loved spending time with both of them. It had been a couple of months. The more time we all spent together the more my heart became comfortable with Dean around, that’s what terrified me.

We were eating Chinese food with Bella and for the first time I felt like we had a family but then his damn phone rang. He checked the name and I saw his face fall a little from his previous smile but he was keeping it together for us. “Uh hey, what’s up?” I couldn't hear everything but I did hear the level of the voice and it was not calm.

“Yeah, I'll be there.” He responded back. He hangs up and looks at me. “Dean no no you promised-” “I know I did and trust me I don’t want to go but I have to. This friend needs me.” We need you, I need you but of course, I didn't say that out loud. He gets up to get his things and bends down to Bella’s level. “Hey Bells, I'll be back in a little.” She clearly doesn't want him to go. “But we were going to play barbies after dinner.” She whined in true six-year-old fashion.

“I know and promise as soon as I get back we will and I'll bring back a new Barbie friend how about that.” She leaps in his arms. “Yay! Thank you, Dean, I love you.” Dean and I both got stiff at that it was the first I love you between them. He squeezes her harder at that. “I love you too Bella.” He lets go and goes to the front door and I follow.

“How long are you going to be gone?” “I honestly don't know Y/n I wished I did.” At that, I got angry he fucking promised. “Dean, what kind of Job do you have that you don’t know when you'll be home!?” He put his hands on the sides of my face. “I will tell you everything when I get home.” He saw my uneasy face. He leans down I think for a kiss but not where I was expecting. It was my forehead, a slow caring one. “You have no idea what you guys mean to me. I will come back and explain everything.” With that, he leaves.

I put Bella to bed hours ago and it was five in the morning but I couldn't go to bed not knowing he was safe. Finally, the door creaks open but very quietly. It was Dean but he looked like he walked through Hell. “Hey, what are you still doing up?” I sip my coffee not really having the anger anymore but being replaced with worry. That’s when I knew I was in deep shit I was falling in love with Dean Winchester. “I couldn't sleep not knowing you were safe.” There is just silence between us. I look up and can't hold back anymore and run into his safe arms. We are like this for like two minutes. “I think it’s time I tell you what I really did, you might want to sit down for this.” 

“So you're saying everything I've ever told Bella was fake is real.” “Yes” “And God, Angels, the Devil, Demons, are real.” “Yup and actually an Angel is one of my best friends.” I gulp the rest of my coffee down, maybe thinking this was a dream and I would wake but no this was real. “Okay, I somehow believe you.” “Really some people call Sam and me crazy when we have to tell them.” “Well, I know both you and Sam and you're not liars.” “Thank you.” “No problem.” I break the ice once more. “So that’s why you had to leave to help someone.”

“Yeah, an old friend was going to a vamp nest.” He looked down at my confused face. “Sorry, I'll explain all the monster lore another time.” “A vamp nest sounds dangerous Dean.” “it is.” I let out what I was thinking the whole night. “Dean I don't want to tell you what to do but you can't just go out anymore like that not when you have a kid now and not when I- '' I was stopped by his lips on mine and it was like nothing changed. We let go.

“I'm sorry if I was reading that wrong Y/n but I care about you too and Bella and thank Chuck every day that he gave me you too.” “Chuck?” He chuckles. “More lore but this is way more important.” He gripped my hips and pulled me forward like he did six years ago. “Wait Dean before we go further even though I would love to relive how we made Bella I need to know this is a hundred percent real and this isn't another in-the-moment type thing.” He kisses me deeply again. “I'm a thousand percent for you and our family.” Our family I never thought I would hear those words and that did me in.

SMUT .................................................................................................................

I pull him in and kiss him again but this time put some real feeling in it. He slips his tongue in like it was natural. “Mhh Dean.” “Would you like to move this to the bed?” I jump up and he catches me. “Yes sir.” He walks me to my bedroom and kicks the door open and lays me down. He gets on top and starts to kiss down my neck. “Lets see, I think this is where your special spot is right?” He sucks down on my pressure point and I mewl with pleasure.

“Ding ding ding we have a winner.” He said slyly. “Dean, please no teasing, it's been six years.”  “Aww darling did I get you all worked up.” “Dean fucking Win-” He goes down to my thighs and starts to pull off my shorts and underwear. “You already soaked baby is this all for me?” He starts to rub his finger up and down my slit. I barely answer. “Uh-huh.” “That’s it baby just feel me.” he puts his finger in my pussy. “AHH DEAN!” I grip his wrist.

“Shh, you don't want to wake Bells.” “Oh, you motherfucker!” He goes faster and faster. “Are you almost there?” “Yes!” He speeds all the way up. “Okay let go.” And I came all over his fingers. “Ahh, I missed that.” “You son of a-” I laughed and dragged him into another kiss. It was starting to get heavy again and he was unbuckling quickly. “Are you sure about this?” he asked earnestly. “A thousand percent.” He smiled his goofy smile and went on. But something stopped the both of us. “Mommy moma!” I look down at his tent. “I'll go but we'll continue this later.'' I leave him with a lingering kiss and him thinking he is the luckiest guy in the world.

There's a second part now: Trick or Treat with smut!

[seeingivy]

high infidelity

satoru gojo x f!reader

do you really wanna know where I was april 29th?

**part of my satoru as taylor swift songs series

content: infidelity (omg who knew), yn is a doctor, satoru gets injured and haha ur still my emergency contact's his way back into your life, megumi and yuuji flirting side quest, a big hot flaming mess of writing this is actually so bad

an: no one say anything to me about this fic actually. or the fact that I made everyone do a poll about which taylor as gojo to write just to not write either of those options and produce a flaming, hot wreck of garbage. anyways, live love high infidelity this song will always be special to me because on april 29th, I was indeed, at the eras tour seeing mother for the first time

--

You swallow hard as the waitress walks up again, with that sheepish, awkward smile on her face. And you dread the unrelenting, embarrassing question that’s going to follow. One that she’s already asked, three times. 

“Are you still waiting for someone or would you like to order?” 

And you’re not sure why, but the fact that she asks the question, in that phrasing, in that tone, is enough to aggravate the very thin patience you already have. Because really, it’s quite possibly the stupidest question she could have asked. 

Clearly, you are still waiting for someone. You’ve been sitting here for the past hour and a half. If you were really intent on eating at this restaurant alone, then you would have ordered the second they seated you. 

And it’s rude, abrasive even. To ask, to relentlessly question, three times. Because obviously, you feel horrible for taking the table, when there’s a line of people patiently waiting by the door. And it’s not your fault that your boyfriend is late. And really, it’s just humiliating, that she keeps throwing it in your face, that you’re sitting here, alone when he should be here making you feel special. 

You sigh, giving her a halfhearted smile. 

“Can I have twenty more minutes? I promise I’ll leave after that and let you give the table to someone else.” 

She smiles, genuine and sweet, as she places her hand on your shoulder and makes a promise to bring some more bread before you leave. 

The premise of it - the fact that she smiled in earnest and must know that you feel horrible, that she has her own deposit of pity for you - has you bringing your fingers up to your forehead and massaging that small, pulsating feeling by your temples. Because here you were, mentally cussing out the poor girl working minimum wage at the restaurant when the real subject of your wrath couldn’t even be bothered to show up. 

And you hate that the negativity, the frustrations of the situation, seem to bleed into everything else. Because you’ll find yourself being upset with Yuri, but then suddenly it turns into a blind agitation to everything. The barista, for not making your coffee right, your co-workers asking to switch shifts so they can go on a trip with their partners, the laundry machine when it stops working. 

Your phone starts incessantly buzzing on the table, the smallest glimmer of hope sparking in your chest at the sound. And instantly dies, when you realize it’s just the Emergency Room calling you. 

You slide open the call, pressing the phone to your ear. 

“This is Tokyo Metropolitan Hospital. Is this a miss Y/N L- wait.” Megumi states into the phone, mumbling off the speaker. 

You press the phone harder to your ear, to try to catch the end of the conversation that Yuuji must be having with Megumi. 

“Y/N. Right, hi!” he states, voice halfheartedly cheery, which is already odd enough for him. 

“Hi Megumi. Why are you calling me on my day off?” you deadpan, that backlogged deposit of irritation coming in hot and fresh for the sweetest resident you have. 

“Right. Um, we have a mister Satoru Gojo in the Emergency Room who has you listed as his Emergency Contact. He’s kind of in bad shape so we were going to call regarding-” 

“Gojo? I’ll be there in ten.” you respond, shoving the phone into your purse and leaving the tip flat on the tablecloth. You give the waitress - standing there with that restocked bread in her hand - a polite wave on the way out and speed as fast as you can to the hospital. 

--

You march into the ER, rubbing warmth into your biceps, to find Megumi at the nurses station, as always, flirting with the pink haired student nurse he’s taken a keen liking to. 

“Hey. Where is he?” you ask, Yuuji and Megumi turning their heads to give you half hearted smiles. It’s only the start of the night shift, but by the way their shoulders are already sagging, you can tell whoever has to deal with them has a long night ahead of them.

“Right sooooo. We can’t decipher any of his paperwork. We need you to read it first and then you can see him. He’s in room eleven.” Yuuji states, giving a peachy smile, as you scan over Gojo’s characteristic illegible handwriting. 

“Jesus. He still writes like a twelve year old.” you murmur, filling out the sheet at the side with all the information Yuuji needed. 

“You’re all dressed up, teach. What’s the occasion?” Megumi asks, lazily leaning his cheek in the palm of his hand. 

“Ah. It’s my one year anniversary with Yuri. We were supposed to go to dinner.” you mumble, scratching the last of the information on the sheet and handing it to Yuuji. 

You feel a hand sling around your shoulder and a distinct smell of smoke, only to find Shoko hanging off your frame. 

“And yet here you are, because he didn’t show up.” she murmurs, earning you a set of wide eyes as you glare at Shoko. Because at their core, Yuuji and Megumi are first, definitely crushing on each other, and second, nosy as hell. 

“And here you are. Destroying every last cell in your lungs, that are eagerly, earnestly begging you to stop.” you deadpan. 

She flicks your nose as you finish filling out the sheet and reading through the paramedics report that was attached to his paperwork.

“Please tell me you attacked Yuri at the dinner table and that’s why you’re here. Fork to the hand? Spoon in the eye? Knife to the dick?” Shoko asks, excitedly. 

“Didn’t you like take an oath? For the preservation of human life?” Megumi deadpans. 

“No. I skipped that day of medical school.” Shoko replies. 

“Gojo’s here, I’m still his emergency contact.” you respond back, giving her a pointed glare. 

“What happened?” 

You turn your head expectantly to Megumi, who obliges. 

“His car got t-boned. He’s pretty roughed up.” Megumi responds. 

You give Shoko a weary look, as you march to the other side of the unit, preparing yourself for whatever roughed up version of Gojo you were about to be greeted with. Because every interaction with Gojo was a rush of emotions - good, bad, sweet, and ugly - but this might be the biggest thing you’ve ever had to stomach yet. 

“So. Who is this Satoru guy? I’ve never heard of him before.” Megumi asks Shoko, giving Yuuji an all knowing glance. 

“Her ex-boyfriend.” Shoko responds. 

“No way. Before that asshat Yuri?” Yuuji asks, suddenly too invested in the story all together. 

“Well, obviously. He taught as a professor at the same medical school she attended.” 

“Y/N dated a professor?” Megumi asks, tone incredulous.  

“I mean that’s one way to get through I guess.” Yuuji adds. 

Shoko smacks the top of Yuuji’s head, earning a fit of laughter from the two of them for his stupid comment. 

“You need to focus on your nursing exams instead of flirting with Megumi on your fifteen. It would do you some good to flirt with your preceptor. And no, he was just a fellow doing research at the time. They were best friends for a good few years, had that whole will they won’t they vibe going on.” Shoko responds. 

“So….did they?” Megumi asks. 

“They did. To be honest, I can’t really remember why they broke up. Something stupid.” Shoko shrugs, giving the two of them shoves on the shoulder before walking past the hall, to find you standing in front of the door. Your hand is resting against the handle, but you have yet to yank down and push yourself in. 

“Are you warming up the handle or…?” 

You’re thrown out of your train of thought to find Shoko at your side, hands buried deep in her white coat as she gives you a weary glance. To anyone else, Shoko would seem wildly disinterested, almost annoyed at how you were acting. But you know better and can see that small twinge of concern buried under her long eyelashes, the hint of it in her voice. 

“Oh. Um…no. Just got lost in thought.” you murmur, staring at the faded eleven on the marker. 

“About?” 

You swallow hard, the warm tears filling your eyes. 

“I haven’t talked to him in so long. And the last time we talked we were arguing over…..leaving dishes in the sink. Breaking up. If I walk in there and he’s dead, that’s going to be the last thing I ever said to him.” you whisper, air grating against your throat. 

Shoko puts a hand on your shoulder and squeezes once.. 

“He’s not dead. The monitor tech would have picked up on that.” 

“The monitor tech? Are we talking about the same monitor tech? Because Nobara is too busy flirting with the phlebotomist Maki to ever do her job. They’re worse than Megumi and Yuuji.” 

Shoko scoffs, before rolling her eyes at you. 

“No one is worse than Megumi and Yuuji. Yuuji knocked the entire crash cart over when he clocked in because Megumi complimented his Star Wars themed scrubs.” 

You snort, shaking your head, as you take a deep breath in and push the handle down. Shoko gives you a warm smile as you walk in and flick the lights on, only to see Satoru, sitting up in bed and lazily scrolling through the TV channels. 

He looks over at you first, his eyes going wide, as you walk up to him and cup the side of his cheek. The tears that were welling in your eyes are falling in full flesh, at the sight of him all battered and bruised. 

His snow white hair is matted red, an angry, glaring scratch on his forehead. His arm is littered with tiny cuts, with a good amount of dressing on his torso, the red blood already seeping through and the look on his face so broken and tired that it makes your heart twinge. 

“Satoru.” 

He smiles, albeit a little confused, as he looks up at you and brings his hand up to yours, where it’s resting against your face. 

“Hey princess.” 

You laugh through your sprout of tears, which has the smallest smile turning up on his cut up lips and the soft, faint smile lines appearing near his eyes. 

“You here to patch me up, doc?” he whispers. 

You shake your head incessantly, which has him rolling his eyes. 

“Not today.” 

“Shame. I heard having sex is really good for patient recovery.”

You smack his shoulder, biting hard down on your cheeks that Satoru Gojo, in full flesh, is okay. Because he still has the audacity to flirt with you, even when he’s near death in the hospital. 

“I’m going to look at your chart, okay?” 

You let go of his face and find yourself in front of the computer, logging in with your credentials, and trying to pull up his chart as fast as you can. 

“If I found out you got into this accident because you were trying to find the perfect song before you got home, I’m going to put your head on a stick, Satoru Gojo” you murmur, earning a laugh from him. 

“First and foremost, you always have to close the drive home on a banger. Sue me.” 

“I think I might just.” 

“And contrary to your beliefs, this accident actually wasn’t my fault. They crashed into me, naturally, because I do no wrong. Ever.” he states. 

“Right.” you chuckle. 

You read over the report, making it a point to berate Yuuji for his shitty charting later, as you look through his vital signs and blood cultures that were taken when he arrived here. 

“So do all doctors dress like they’re about to go clubbing or is it just you?” 

You look down, only now noticing that you’re still wearing the a-line dress from the dinner you were supposed to have with Yuri. You make a mental note to shoot him a text after checking with Satoru after, knowing all too well that with how busy Yuri is, you standing him up would throw him over the edge. 

“Just me. I really love to put on a show for my patients, Gojo. And what clubs are you going to where people dress like this?” you mutter, clicking through the scans that were taking. 

“I appreciate the lengths you go to for me. It’s always what I loved about you. And I exclusively attend Taylor Swift night at the Underground” he states, placing his hands on his chest. 

You look over and glare at him, before reading through the treatment plan. When you look over Nanami’s notes, you feel your heart drop and turn over to look at him. At his bright, blue eyes so wide and unaware, the look on his face so…innocent it bothers you. That in a few hours, he’s going to be in unspeakable pain while he recovers. 

The door opens and Nanami and Yuuta are standing at the door, Nanami already scoffing at you. 

“That’s confidential patient information, Dr. L/N.” Nanami states, voice stern. He hands you a jacket, which you pull on, as you hike your hands under your biceps and talk to him. 

“You were going to tell me all of it anyways. So…what’s the plan here?” you grumble, settling next to Gojo at the side of his bed, placing your hands in his nearly pink hair. 

“Well. I’m going to-” 

“The surgical resident has to be Yuuta, I don’t trust that dumbass Todo to do it. You have to use prolene stitches, I don’t want his skin to scar and don’t leave him under for too long. He’s never been one to suit medications well. Don’t play any rap music when you’re operating, he hates that type of stuff and-” 

Nanami puts his hands square on your shoulders, squeezing once. 

“Thank you, Dr. L/N. We’ll talk all details after, okay?” Nanami states, voice soft, as you turn over to look at Gojo. 

Gojo gives you a weak smile, which you return, before pushing his hair off of his forehead, and lightly brushing through the white tresses as he looks at them.

“Give it to me straight, Kento Bento.” Satoru states, earning an eye roll from Nanami who's clearly unamused. But you can tell he doesn’t mind it all too much, because in the monotony of shitty patients, he’s always been one to appreciate the sweet jokesters. And Satoru’s the biggest clown there is. 

“It’s a relatively easy procedure, Satoru. We’re just going to go in and repair the damage that you sustained to your digestive tract from the crash. Do you have any questions for me?” Nanami asks. 

“Can I request that she’s not in there when it happens?” Satoru asks, looking up at you. 

“Hey. I can-” 

“Yes. We’ll make sure of it.” Yuuta responds. 

“Thank you, Yuuta.” Gojo responds, giving him a smile. 

“We’ll be around in an hour to take you to surgery.” Nanami states, ignoring the pointed glare you were giving him as he strolls out of the room. 

You turn to Gojo, the overstimulation of the past ten minutes really hitting you, as you feel your brain short circuit while he’s looking at you. You try to focus on the sensation of his hair in your hand and that pulsating beat that you’ve been feeling for his wrist, but you can’t really process any of it. 

Every high and low you’ve experienced in the past few minutes - the elation in Gojo’s voice, the pain from seeing him suffering, how he’s still the same as you left him- it’s enough to abandon any rational thought processes from occurring in your head. And it leaves you standing there, silently, with your hands on him. 

“Hi Y/N.” 

“Hi ‘Toru.” 

He smiles at the nickname, reaching forward to lace his fingers through yours. 

“I was driving and then…I wasn’t. I looked up and all I could see was the stoplight above me, then the flashing lights of the ambulance, and now…you….looking at me like that. Your brain isn’t the only one hurting right now.” 

“Looking at you ike what?” you murmur. 

“Like you’re in pain, Y/N.” he states, emphasizing his syllables. 

You shake your head, fighting down that wave of worry that’s sitting in your skin. 

“You know, Kento’s a really good doctor. And Yuuta…he’s like the most promising surgical resident. And even then, I-I can get another senior surgeon if you don’t want a student. And-and it really won’t hurt that bad and I’ll make sure they give you all the good meds and-” 

“Y/N.” 

“Sorry. I’m sorry. I’m rambling. I know you’ve always hated that and I just-” 

“I don’t hate it. Just, slow down for a second…talk me through all this because I really don’t know what’s going on and you know I don’t like not knowing.” 

You pull up the chair, messing with his hands as you talk. 

“You have to get surgery. The impact you had when you crashed led to-” 

“Y/N. I know all of that already. I’m asking about you.” 

You frown, swallowing hard, as you run your fingers along the scratch on his knuckles.

“You never update your current information.” 

“Huh?” 

“You….you never canceled the stupid Hulu subscription when we got the Disney Plus bundle. And you kept having to trek all the way across town to get the mail, because you forgot to change the address when we moved, and you-” 

“I don’t really see how-” 

“You forgot to change your emergency contact, Satoru. After we broke up, you-you forgot to call them and tell them that they shouldn’t call me.” you hum, as Gojo’s hand tightens in it’s hold around yours. 

“Oh shit, Y/N. Sweetheart, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to-” 

You lurch up from your chair, tangling your arms around his neck as you crackle his head into your frame, that incessant stream of tears pouring down your eyes as he brings his own arms around yours. 

And it feels too fast, because suddenly Nanami and Yuuta are back at your sides, giving you sympathetic glances as they wheel Gojo away and you’re left standing in the hallway, flat against the wall, every horrible outcome of the next four hours playing through your head. 

--

On hour five, already a bad sign, you’re sitting flat against the floor with a jello cup in your hand and in Megumi’s spare pair of scrubs. They’re both sitting at your sides, the dead quiet of the night shift leaving them with you. 

“Kento likes to be really careful, Y/N. That’s all it is.” Megumi states, giving his best attempts at calm reassurance. 

“And Yuuta’s great. We all love Yuuta, he’s sweet….intelligent. He’s more than capable to do this.” Yuuji adds. 

You crack through every last bone in your finger, the entire interaction playing over in your head. 

“I-I just went in there so fast. And the time was so…so short that I didn’t even say much to him.” you respond, sighing. 

“When’s Yuri coming?”

You turn your head to the side, in confusion, before you register Yuji’s words all together. 

“Why would he-” 

You panic, remembering that you had never texted Yuri back, that he’s probably fuming in his own pit of rage right now at his apartment, cursing your name to god knows what degree. You reach for your phone in your pocket, only to find no notifications from him. You scroll up on the chat, only to find that he hadn’t texted you the entire day, yesterday. 

His last text read April 28th, a reminder that he needed you to pick up his drycleaning for his golf game this weekend. 

“He’s really an asshole, isn’t he?” you spit. 

You see Megumi and Yuuji give each other wide eyed looks over the top of your head, as you click your phone shut and let it fall to the ground. 

Because in the dim lights of this hospital, with Satoru’s blood, some of it still smeared on the side of your hand, you feel like you’re seeing clearly for the first time in years. 

That really, Yuri in actuality, is not the one for you. And it’s not that he’s a bad guy, he’s honorable in some sense really, but what he gives isn’t even a fraction close to what you want. 

He’s tall and lanky. The type of guy to represent every portion of the food triangle in the three meals he ate. He wakes up at five in the morning to go to the gym before an entire day at work, and still somehow finds time to read and run a personal wellness blog when he gets home. 

He’s classy, in every sense of the term. The exact type of man you envision when you think of someone put together, wholly and fully. On top of their shit, living their best life, one that people aspired to. 

And that was in no way what you wanted. 

You wanted Satoru. Satoru who convinces you that there’s still enough room for a little treat after dinner, despite the fact that you both stuffed yourself full at the restaurant. He sleeps in late on the weekends, pressing lazy kisses to your skin to wake you up before entirely botching the whole breakfast in bed thing he was trying to impress you with. 

He was real, in every sense of the term. The type of person you envision when you imagine the person you wanted to spend the rest of your life with. He’s funny, he���s kind and he most certainly would never leave you stranded at a restaurant on your one year anniversary. Because Satoru Gojo certainly wasn’t classy, but he was honorable. And if he promised to be somewhere, he’d be there early, making sure everything was perfect before you got there. 

And right now, two of your most trusted co-workers had their hands inside his body cavity, trying to fix the mess in there. 

--

When Gojo comes to, there’s an aching soreness in his torso and neck. He can feel the tense pressure around his arms too, bandages wrapped around every square inch of his body. But that warm feeling around his wrist was entirely different from the rest. 

He opens his eyes to find you, fast asleep with your head down on the side of his bed and your hand secured tightly around his wrist. Your breaths are slow, so deep in your sleep that you don’t even process Satoru moving around you amidst your slumber. 

He brings his hand down to your hair and watches you lean into his touch, nuzzling your head closer to the blanket. Your hair is messy at this point, bunched up at the top of your head in the messiest knot he’s seen you sport yet. 

There’s a knock at the door and Yuuji is standing there, a small smile on his face. 

“Good morning, Mr. Gojo. Welcome back.” 

Satoru smiles as he moves to his side and starts to hook him up to the monitors, taking a set of fresh vitals. 

“How are you feeling?” 

“Just sore, Yuuji. How are you?” 

“Ah. Night shift. Same old.” 

“Is that little emo you like here?” 

Satoru watches Yuuji’s cheeks go bright pink, as he starts fumbling with the cuff around his hand. 

“Ah, you mean, Megumi? Y/N’s resident? No, he-he’s off tonight.” he stumbles. 

“Shame. Nothing like flirting on the night shift.” Satoru states, clicking his tongue. 

“Oh, I don’t flirt with-” 

“Well, you should. He’s cute. And a doctor. Someone is going to snatch him up real fast.” Satoru states, definitively. 

“Mr. Gojo, I don’t know if-” 

“Trust me. I know all too well. People swoop in for the doctors before you can even fight to get them back.” Satoru states, reaching down to tuck your hair behind your ear. 

“Well, I-” 

“I’m just saying, kid. Swoop in before it’s too late.” he states, giving him a smile. 

“Yeah. Sure, I-I will. Do you need anything else, Mr. Gojo?” 

“Can you get her a blanket? She always gets allergies when it’s too drafty in the room she’s sleeping in.” 

Yuuji smiles, tapping on the railings of the bed. 

“Sure thing.” 

And Yuuji curses himself for doing it, for meddling, but he pokes his head into the room one last time before leaving. 

“And just so you know. You….sometimes you think it’s too late to swoop. But it’s actually like…the perfect time. To swoop….like a bird or something, I don’t know-” Yuuji stammers. 

And when Yuuji leaves and Gojo is able to process his words, he’s trying his best to wipe the smile off of his face. 

--

“Hey, Megs. How are his vitals today?” you ask, swiveling over in your chair. 

Megumi, irritated with your constant pestering, has had enough of his fill today. He swings his own chair around, tugging at the stethoscope around his neck, as he glares at you. 

“For the hundredth time, your little boo boo bear is just fine. We’re planning to discharge tomorrow.” 

You frown, reaching for the closest item - a roll of gauze - and throw it square in his face. 

“He’s not my boo boo bear. And I’m just checking. You know he could have complications after the surgery like inf-” 

“Infection, hypotension, septic shock, multiple system organ failure, yeah yeah. I know. I graduated top of my class at medical school, you know?” 

“And yet here you are, being taught by Shoko. You’re clearly not that great if you’re being trained by a girl who cheated her way through medical school.” 

“I’m going to leave. And when I’m gone, you’re going to be really pissed because you’re going to be stuck with some idiot that can’t even take vitals.” Megumi deadpans, swiveling back to his computer. 

“No, you’re not. You’d never leave your boo boo bear hanging. Especially since he’s planning on asking you on a date tomorrow.” 

“He’s not asking me on a date.” Megumi responds. 

You smile, trying to swallow your laugh as you respond. 

“Oh, sure he is. And-” 

Your phone timer goes off, as you gleefully sprint out of your chair, and down the hall to Satoru’s room. Nanami’s in there, unwrapping his bandages, as you knock and enter to make your presence known. At the sight of you, Nanami’s glaring as you drag the chair up and sit at his side. 

“Y/N. You should be working.” 

“I’m on my lunch. And I’m allowed to do whatever I want for lunch.” 

“You should eat something, Y/N. Instead of bothering our patients.” Nanami scolds, as he shuts the door behind you and you turn to Satoru. 

Satoru looks way better, the bruising on his skin fading to yellow and the cuts all around his skin healing. He’s smiling softly, a hand cupping your cheek as he talks. 

“Good morning, Y/N.” 

“Hi Satoru.” 

“You know, you really should eat something on your lunch break.” 

“You know, you really should keep your annoying opinions to yourself.” you respond. 

He scoffs, moving his hand to mess up your hair, as you swat his hands off. 

“So.” Satoru states. 

“So?” 

“A little birdie told me that you broke up with Yuri last night.” 

“Well, your little birdie was wrong. As nosy as he is, he clearly doesn’t know how to listen.” 

You both laugh, Gojo slightly dejected by your response, as you lace your hands through his, and smile at your hands firmly pressed together. 

“Yuuji’s got a bad case of the chismosa virus.” 

“And you don’t? I heard you giggling with Shoko at the nurses station about how the emo is going to ask Yuuji on a date.” 

“No, Yuuji's asking Megumi on the date. And okay, but that’s actually a big deal. I’ve been trying to set that up for months.” 

“Well, you can’t take credit because I’m actually the one who got Yuuji to do it.” 

You frown, reaching forward to pinch his cheeks. 

“Shut up. It’s only the months of build up, that I basically created, that’s making him do it.” 

“Well, I pushed him over the edge. So it’s my victory.” 

You sigh, sitting back in your chair as you smile at him, at how easily you both fall back into this. 

“How about we both did it?” you ask, giving him a smile. 

“Sure. We always did make a good team.” he responds, making your cheeks burn. 

You reach for his blanket and start moving his gown to inspect the incision, trying to make sure that the site wasn’t getting infected, from when you checked yesterday. . 

“Okay, pervert. I didn’t realize you were into voyeurism.” Satoru says, incredulously. 

“Gojo. Do you even know what voyeurism means?” 

“Yeah. It’s people who like to have sex in public.” 

You snort, moving the edge of the gown as you note the clean sutures, healing well along the length of his torso. 

“That is not what voyeurism means, dumbass.” 

“Sorry. I didn’t realize I was fighting with the sex kink expert here.” 

“I-I’m not a sex kink expert! You’re just fucking stupid.” 

“Oh, shut up.” 

You roll your eyes, as you settle back into the chair, reaching forward to cup his face. He smiles, soft and warm, which you return. 

“You’re healing really well. It’ll just be a faint line, right around your torso when you’re out of here.” you murmur. 

“It kinda looks like I got my legs cut off and someone sewed them back on.” he murmurs. 

“That’s not funny.” you deadpan, glaring at him. 

“Kinda funny. That’s a really unfortunate way to die.” he responds.

“I know there’s a universe out there where that actually happens to you. And I know for a fact that Satoru doesn’t think it’s funny at all.” 

“Okay, Doctor Strange. Let’s pipe down there, alright? Even if that did happen to me, I’d come back from it. Because guess what?” 

“Don’t say it.” you groan. 

“Because I’m the strongest.” 

“You know that never gets less annoying right?” 

“You love it.” he responds, reaching forward to pinch your cheek. 

You look down, at your hand tangled in Satoru’s as you find a way to broach the topic. That for all intents and purposes, that you want nothing to do with Yuri. That you want him, that you do love his stupid jokes, that you’d beg on your hands and knees for him to take you back because-

“Do you want to go to the aquarium on Friday?” Satoru asks. 

“The aquarium?” 

“Yeah. We can take a picnic basket, eat on the lawn outside afterwards.” Satoru says. 

You swallow the lump in your throat, aggressively nodding in response. 

“Yeah. That sounds nice. We can um-carpool.” 

“Sure. It’s a date.” he responds, leaning into his pillow with a soft smile on his face. 

You bite down the stupid smile that’s rising to your cheeks, as you close your eyes, humming in agreement. 

“Yeah. It’s a date.” you whisper back. 

--  

Eight days after the fact and Yuri, in his infinite wisdom, finally comes through. That’s when he musters the courage to bring himself to your apartment, where Satoru has been staying with you since he was discharged. And when Satoru answers the door, Yuri’s all levels of pissed. 

“Who are you?” Yuri asks. 

“I’m the owner of this house.” Gojo responds, trying not to laugh at his own joke. 

“Did Y/N move?” 

“No, dumbass. It was a joke.” he responds, rolling his eyes. 

Satoru leans off of the door frame, calling for you, as you join him at his side. 

“Hey, you okay? I was planning on making lunch for- oh.” 

Satoru smiles, reaching forward to ruffle your hair, before he shuffles away. 

“Holler if you need me.” 

You shoot Satoru a grateful smile, infinitely thankful that the two of you were able to pick up right where you left off, as you turn to Yuri in your doorway. 

“Where were you on Saturday?” he asks, arms crossed over his chest. 

You swallow hard, rehearsing the speech you had prepared with Satoru when you were tangled in his arms last night, and make your best attempt to deliver the blow the best you can. 

“Yuri. I think we should stop seeing each other.” 

“What?” 

“I just don’t think that we’re really compatible. You and I are…on different wavelengths. And you deserve someone who is better suited to you and your….interests.” you murmur, awkwardly rubbing your arms on your arms. 

In actuality, you feel a little bit bad. That technically, you might have been…a little bit dishonest with Yuri. Because you’re having this conversation with him, days after the fact, when you’ve already done god knows what with Gojo in the past few days he’s been back with you. He’s all but living in your apartment at this point, under the premise of needing twenty four hour medical support, when really, you’re both just soaking up on time you lost. 

Time is so precious, that you forgot to tell Yuri until he showed up, on your doorstep. You finally understand why Yuri was late to things, because whatever he was doing when he wasn’t with you, must have been keeping him occupied the way this was keeping you occupied. 

Because you kept planning on calling him, but then Gojo would take you out to breakfast. Or you’d sleep in too late and then knew that you’d be interrupting Yuri at work. And the list, it went on and on and led you to this moment and it’s painfully awkward. 

And maybe it’s bad, a little bit evil even, but that small bit of bad feeling is overshadowed by every bit of good that you’ve felt in the past few days. At Gojo ordering dessert out of nowhere, that he insists he’s sharing with you before he eats almost the entire thing, or when he drags you to the bathroom when he’s doing his night time hair care routine. 

“Where were you? On Saturday?” 

“Look, I just got called into work, okay?” 

“Are you…are you serious? Don’t tell me you’re really dating that dumbass who just answered the door?” 

“Frankly, it’s none of your business who I date anymore because you…you aren’t really a part of my life anymore. And we’re not dating, we’re just-” 

“God. He flashes one pretty smile at you and you go running back to him? Need I remind you, that you complained about him for months on end. About how he’s messy, he’s careless, he’s-” 

“That stuff doesn’t matter. At least not anymore.” 

“You’re a bitch, you know that?” 

You feel Gojo padding behind you, and you put your hand up in the air, signaling for him to stay where he is. 

“Do you really want to know where I was on April 29th? On our one year anniversary, I was sitting in a shitty restaurant, for an hour and a half waiting for you to show up. When I hadn’t heard from you all day. And then I got a call, that the man that I love was in the hospital, and then I was at his side. Willing him to wake up, because I would be so fucking angry, so fucking pissed if he died and I didn’t get to tell him that he meant the world to me.” 

Yuri swallows hard, the look of betrayal etched on his face. 

“Are you trying to hurt me right now? Do you get some kind of sick gratification from killing the one you love?” he asks. 

“I’d argue that my way is nicer actually. One fell swoop, with the truth out there. The slowest way to kill someone is never loving them enough. And honestly, it’s just cruel. And of course, something that you were too skilled at.” 

You’re not sure what it is about what you said, but suddenly Yuri’s stomping down the hallway and you’re shutting the door, as the tears start pouring out of your eyes and you’re leaning against the door. 

Now that Yuri’s gone, Satoru’s shed all his inhibitions and he’s cradling you straight in his arms, his soft voice cooing in your ear as you hiccup into his chest. 

“Hey. You did so good, princess.” 

“I-I’m not crying because I’m sad. I still…I still want you, you know?” 

Satoru smiles, bringing his hands up to cup your cheeks in his hand and wipe your tears away. 

“I know that, sweetheart. I’m irresistible.” he murmurs. 

You lightly shove him, before resting your head against his torso, hearing the rapid beating of his heart under your ear. 

“I’m just really relieved. That you-that you’re-” 

You look up, at his sparkling blue eyes, the tiny fractals of color like perfectly constructed, charted constellations in his eyes. 

“I’m glad you’re here. Again.” 

He smiles wide, leaning forward to press his lips to your forehead. 

“Me too, yeah?”

--

the satoru as taylor swift songs series masterlist

taglist:

@porridgesblog @k0z3me @kayleegomez @yihona-san06 @bsenpai @sweetenertea @skzismyhome @mykyoon @violetmatcha @rebeccawinters @luna0713hunter @shotenvinsoot @itzmeme 

lmk if you would like to be added to my taylor as gojo or my general masterlist in the replies or inbox <3

[ladyrowrites]

SPENDING VALENTINE’S DAY WITH JJK MEN ♡

A/N: I was supposed to post this on the weekend but I got sick. Anyway, all better now so enjoy reading :)

Warning: Implied smut, MDNI!!!!!

Contents: SO MUCH FLUFF! Valentine's day with Gojo, Geto, Nanami, and Toji

♡Gojo

This man will spoil you to death so of course he surprises you with SPA DAY! After brunch, he takes you to the luxurious Four Seasons hotel and you both go up to the 20th floor. 

You look up at him, “Babe, where are you taking me? You already gave me flowers, chocolate and took me to brunch.” 

He grins and winks at you, “Why are you still surprised babe? I am THE Gojo Satoru, ya know I’ll give you the world if you want to right?” While kissing your left hand. 

You just rolled your eyes at him – arrogant as ever. He just weakly laughs, “Don’t worry about it, princess.”

The elevator opens and as you are stepping out, you can hear the serene music and see the waterfalls by the entrance. The spa receptionist bows and both greets you softly, “Good Afternoon, welcome to Four Seasons Spa.” 

You squeeze his hands and he massages your back as a reply and says, “What? You need some pampering. You’ve been working too hard.”

The spa attendant leads you to change rooms and once you are in a comfortable robe, all your stress from work is instantly gone. You met him outside the change room and he was smiling so handsomely to you. You can hear all the spa attendants' squeal and side comments on how lucky you are. 

Oh, he is loving this attention so you pinch him lightly on his left arm. He pretended to be hurt and laughed, “Let’s get this straight tho, Y/N, I am the lucky one.” Then he lifts up your chin and kisses you tenderly on your lips. You felt your heart exhilarate for a moment - Satoru really makes you feel emotions you haven’t experienced before.

“You ready?” While presenting you his manly hands for you to hold. You nodded and took his hands. You both did so much pampering with the couple's facial followed by the couple's massages and of course mani and pedi after. 

After all the relaxation you did today, you feel like you’re ready to go home and sleep for atleast 12 hours, “Thank you Satoru for today. This was the best Valentine’s treat ever!” It was your turn to kiss him passionately. He sweetly smiles at you and tickles you on your sides then leaned in and whispers, “Anything for my princess… Now, it’s dessert time.” 

“Dessert? I’m still so full from brunch!”

He has the biggest smirk plastered on his face, “Heh. You’re my dessert.” He seductively says to you.” While sliding his hands on your thighs.

♡ Geto

He took you to the restaurant you’ve been wanting to try. You can see the customers and waitresses looking at him with hearts in their eyes and for some reason you just want to grab and put your lips in his and proclaim to everyone that HE IS TAKEN! He read your mind though because he knows you too well. 

He half stands up from his seat in front of you and pecks your lips. He sits down again and gently says, “Baby, you have nothing to worry about. I’m yours.” While stroking his thumb on your hands and staring at you like you’re the only person in the room. You love it when he reassures you like this. 

Before leaving the restaurant, he says that he has a surprise for you. You are now walking towards his tattoo shop and so you looked at him suspiciously, “Hmm? Do you have a tattoo session today?” He said his day is free for you so it’s just odd that he’s taking you to his shop right now.

“Shhh, just follow me.” He opens the lock and leads you inside his studio. He then sits you on the black leather couch and gets his ipad to show you something, “Here, look at this stencil.” Then sits beside you.

You saw the drawing in his ipad and you were stunned, “Suguru? Wait, no… is this?” He nods at you, “Yes, that’s the tattoo you’ve been asking me to make and yes my surprise is to tattoo you today if you still want it.” You latch on his arms and excitedly respond yes!

He wraps his left arm in your waist, “Are you sure? Cause’ once I—”

“Yes, please! I’ve been wanting this piece! I’ve made up my mind and I promise, I won’t complain.” You give him the beautiful eyes, “Okay, but no whining, beautiful.” Then he stands up, puts his gloves on, and prints the stencil. The piece that you want is a polydamas swallowtail butterfly with a dagger in the center of it. The dagger was the same one from Mortal Kombat’s Skarlet because it’s both of your favourite video game to play even though he secretly always lets you win.

You want it in your sternum so you lifted your shirt halfway but he lifted it more and you caught his wrist, “Suguru!” He laughs, “Oh, but princess I have to put alcohol a little bit higher than that.” Higher means your boobs basically. You rolled your eyes and just said, “Ahuh.” 

The tattoo lasted 3 excruciatingly painful hours. You wished that he actually told you that you were getting it today because you needed a numbing cream on your sternum. And even though Suguru was gentle, it still hurt, especially the shading portion but Suguru talked you through it and it was worth it in the end. 

You thought that that’s it for the surprise but when you went home there’s petal red roses on the floor and a bouquet of peonies in your living room table with your favourite chocolates beside it. You hugged him and said thank you for being the sweetest man ever. You ate one of the chocolates right away because you can definitely have some sweets right now after all the pain you went through. 

You offered him some and then he back hugs you while he speaks with a low guttural tone, “Hm, I’d rather have you tho.” And then softly places his lips on your neck.

♡ Nanami

You are of course a spoiled princess when it comes to Nanami. You are the love of his life and you are the one who taught him that there was more to life than just working away. You told him you don’t need any gifts for Valentines’ as he always treats you anyway. But he just nonchalantly says, “Love, don’t worry about it, it’s already handled.” 

You wake up first to ensure you give him your gift first. You made sure he is still asleep so you tiptoed your way in the kitchen and grabbed the small box of cookies you made for him. You went to your bedroom again and you can’t help falling in love all over again - on how he was peacefully sleeping with his blonde hair touching his eyes and his chiseled face relaxed.

You sit by the floor next to his side of the bed and slowly comb his hair that was in his eyes. He steadily opens his eyes and smiles at you when he sees how close you are on his face, “Hi, gorgeous.” He says while pinching your nose playfully. “I have a small surprise for you my love.” Then you give him the neatly gift wrapped box. 

He kisses you sweetly on your lips and sits upright by the headboard so you move to sit in the bed and wait patiently for him to open your gift. “You know my love, you didn’t have to, right?” He says while unwrapping it. Now, it was your turn to pinch his nose, “No! I have to. You’ve been really great to me, it’s only fair I give you one.” 

He sees the cookies and he laughs, “Oh my, I didn’t know I looked this good.” The cookie you baked was his different expressions and that was not a lot but you tried your hardest imitating it in your cookies. “What? My favourite one is this one – the one where your eyebrows meet and I can already tell you’re about to lecture me face. Come on, eat one. Let me know how I did.”

“Hmmm, not bad at all. White chocolate, my favourite.” He says approvingly, “But you know what’s sweeter than this?” He puts your gift to the bedside table then grabs you by your waist and starts tickling you.

“Hey! Nanamin! Stop!” You said laughing. He then hugs you tightly and whispers in your ear, “Hmm, you know what the pottery class I booked isn’t until 3pm anyway… So we have lots of time.” He booked the pottery class because you love that pottery scene from Ghost and of course he wanted to be Patrick Swayze for you.

“Time to do what?” You innocently batted your eyelashes at him. He then goes on top of you and with his oh so low sexy voice says, “I think I’ll just show you gorgeous.” You giggled and slapped his biceps playfully, “NANAMIN!!!!”

♡ Toji

Toji isn’t really a romantic type so when you asked him what he wanted to do for Valentines, he just gave you a “What the fuck is that? Why is that a holiday? Look” You just rolled your eyes, not expecting anything anymore. You figure since you don’t think he’ll give you something, you decide maybe you'll just spend your time with your friends.

Valentines’ day comes and you are going out to lunch with your girlfriends Shoko and Utahime – they both called it “‘Galentine's” day since they don't have dates either. You do have a man tho, but he doesn’t celebrate it so it’s whatever. Just one day, you thought. You kiss Toji goodbye and you want to be irritated at him but he hugs and whispers to you, “I’ll be waiting for you to get home.” Then winks at you.  He also tapped your ass while you walked away. You just rolled your eyes. He's such an ass man.

You were having lunch at the Italian place Utahime suggested and even though the cream gnocchi is really good, it’s been leaving a bitter taste in your mouth. “Girl, come on, don’t be so upset. You know Toji’s personality. He still loves you, he’s just not the celebrating type of guy.” Shoko comforts you.

“Yeah, you kinda signed up for this ‘ya know?” Utahime comments, “I knooooow. But still, even a box of chocolates or just a single stemmed flower, can he just do that?” You frustratingly reply.

“Tss. Valentines’ day is such a scam. You know that girlie!” Shoko says, “Yeah you’re right! Anyway, it’s Galentines’ day today so what’s next on our agenda ladies?” You tried to suppress all your irritation because whatever!  Valentines’ is a scam for capitalism but it would not hurt him to just atleast give you something? Anything? Even a love letter. Again, whatever. You shake your thoughts.

“Oh yeah, how about bowling? Sounds good?” Utahime answers. 

After losing to Shoko in bowling, they suggested another activity – archery.

“What? Can’t we just go to some bracelet making shit? I don’t know how to play that.” You whine. “Noooo, come on, this will make you forget your irritation at him. Just think of the target as Toji’s face.” Utahime drags you to the class which is conveniently near the bowling alley. 

“Fine. I mean it’s too early to come home anyway.” 

“Atta girl!” Shoko replies enthusiastically, “Don’t lose again to me, losers.” While making an L hand gesture.

Utahime and you both rolled your eyes at her, “Ugh, the attitude!” She jokingly replies.

When you cross over the street, you see a tall and buff man wearing black jeans and a tight black shirt. You know that built everywhere but you’re not sure at the same time because his face is covered with a bouquet of blue roses with tiny little teddy bears attached to it. Whoever is that girl, lucky, you thought. 

You are distracted when Utahime leads you inside the Archery entrance, “Uhm so? Y/N, this is where Shoko and I leave you. We had a great Galentines’ day thanks to him.” You look so confused looking between Shoko and Utahime but they are giggling and pointing behind you. When you turned around you saw your tough looking boyfriend holding a bouquet of flowers. You are about to speak when they immediately say goodbye to you and wink, then mouthed, “Have fun.”

You now turn to your doting boyfriend - shocked. He playfully laughs and says, “You think I won’t do anything for my girl?” Then kisses you passionately and your heart begins to flutter and dance. He gives you the bouquet and you are just so stunned because you were not expecting anything from him, “You can close your mouth now babe. Haha, Come on, I’m not that heartless.” He then leads you to your archery lane.

He spends his time carefully teaching you how to angle the arrow right and where your shoulder should be. It was a bliss spending archery class with him even though he was praising himself more. Typical, Toji *eye roll*

Little did you know, there is more surprise because when you went home, there were white petal roses on the floor and a candlelit dinner ready, “You prepared all of this? And you cooked my favourite food too?” You shockingly asked him. He just smirks at you and says nonchalantly, “Well, I am the best boyfriend.” 

He won’t admit it but Toji has some romantic traits under that tough exterior. Also, he asked your friends to take you out to distract you while he cleans the house, cook dinner and prepare all this – even giving Shoko the money to pay for lunch and a bowling outing for the three of you. 

You move forward to Toji to hug him and he catches you by your waist so you wrap your legs around his torso and began kissing his whole face for being the most loving boyfriend and promised him that he’ll have the best dessert right after. *WINK WINK*

[joocomics]

ಬ sweet like sugar

pairing: non-idol!jungsu x fem!reader

genre: fluff, suggestive wc: 1.2k

a/n: happy birthday jungsu ♡

[ xdinary heroes masterlist | general masterlist ]

The bell rings the moment he walks in.

Every day he arrives at the exact same time. He puts on the same dark blue apron and comes out of the kitchen to deal with the customers while his mother is baking different pastries. You’ve been coming here for long enough to tell everyone loves him, and the customers always come in with a smile and leave with even bigger one.

You made this coffee shop your spot before Jungsu started taking shifts - in comparison to a few other girls. You grew to like the calm atmosphere and the tasty pastries while it was still just his mom (the owner) and the middle aged waitress as the only working staff. However, after he started helping her out between his morning and afternoon classes more girls would drop by to hangout just to spend as much time as possible watching him interact with clients, clean the counter and bring out the next portion of pastry.

You can’t blame them.

Jungsu is an amazingly charming guy. He caught your eye with his gentle captivating features, but the more time you spend here, the harder it gets for you to not think about him after you leave. It’s his voice and the way he speaks; his genuine smile and the way he treats those around him; his fit body underneath the apron; his sparkling gaze every time he shoots you a look from behind the counter. Sometimes he winks at you and the thrill lingers in your chest for hours. You doubt he means anything by it, but at the same time it’s not like you’re complete strangers. You’ve been coming at the coffee shop to study and write your assignments for a while now and you’ve been actually getting to know each other from having occasional conversations; nothing too personal, just little bits about your daily life, work, how and why you picked your majors.

The previous week while you were rereading the first half of your assignment you caught a glimpse of his hand carefully picking up your empty cup of tea and placing a plate with a big chocolate cookie that you didn’t remember ordering.

“Oh, I didn’t…”

“It’s on me.” He smiled at you with glimmer in his eye. “You need energy in order to finish that.”

You try not to get into your head; to not overthink his actions. He’s just being kind… but he’s also the most attractive guy you’ve seen in real life, and it’s hard not to daydream about him - with you, outside of this coffee shop.

Today Jungsu is closing the place.

You don’t realise you and him are the only people left until you hear him say goodbye to someone; pretty loud, because of the sudden rain that started pouring heavily.

You’re surprised by how lost you must have been in your own head during your study session to not notice how much time has passed since you came here.

Loud thunder sneaks inside the place before Jungsu shuts the door, letting out a sigh of exhaustion.

You close your laptop and start gathering your notes.

“I totally lost track of time,” you say through a flustered smile as he walks slowly towards your table after turning around the sign to we are closed.

“It’s okay, you don’t need to hurry.”

He pulls a chair from the table besides you and sits down.

“It’s pouring really hard.” He speaks.

“Yeah…” You take a deep breath with the realisation that the storm is getting worse. A lightning strikes as you stare through the glass windows. “It’s one crazy summer.”

“Why don’t you wait here until it slows down?” The slight concern is noticeable in his voice. “It’s not safe to drive in a weather like this.”

You nod with appreciation and put your bag back where it was.

For the next half an hour you help out Jungsu with cleaning up the space despite his efforts to convince you not to.

You notice him take off his apron, revealing a nice buttoned up shirt underneath.

“I’ve been learning how to bake.” He says, putting it aside.

“What exactly?”

“Well, today I made ginger cookies.” He grabs a glass jar and opens it for you. “Would you like to try them and tell me if I suck?”

“Wait!” Your eyes widen with a pleasant surprise when the memory bursts into your mind. “Did you made that chocolate chip one you served me the other week?”

Jungsu chuckles and immediately looks down, too flustered to look back at you.

“It was so delicious, Jungsu!” You exclaim, taking a minute to observe his face closer before he glances up, making it your turn to look away.

You sneak a hand inside the jar and take a cookie. It smells amazing and you can already guess it would taste just as good.

“Be honest.” Jungsu warns you, leaving the jar on the table behind you.

Just as you expected… the cookies are great. The wonderful taste settles on your tongue and you humm delightfully, impressed by his skills.

“Do you know what I was thinking that day?” Soon enough, he speaks out more softly while staring down at your lips.

“When you treated me the chocolate chip cookie?” You ask as the thoughts of what possibly he might say next race inside your head.

“Yeah,” he nods, finally meeting your intrigued gaze and holding onto it. His lips, so sensually shaped, separate apart again once he sees you shrugging shoulders. “How bad I wish I could kiss you.”

This is the last thing you expect to hear from him, but how exciting it feels when he says it and looks closer into your eyes to search for your reaction… Your whole face turns warmer from the way his gaze becomes more vulnerable while still remaining focused as he tries to read your mind.

His hands rest onto the countertop and you sense your muscles tense from suddenly being so close to him, right between his two arms; but it’s thrilling in the best way possible and your body responds on the instant.

Your head tilts as you slowly guide your lips to his.

“You can,” you whisper.

To Jungsu, you’ve been tempting from the start, but right now in this very moment, you’re irresistible. He shuts his eyes, breathing in your captivating scent.

As he gathers a bit more courage your one hand slides up his arm all the way to his shoulder, curiously and gently, as if you take your time to enjoy how his muscles and each vein feel against your skin.

The kiss is undeniably sweet like sugar.

Your lips touch gently causing an exciting sensation to burst like fireworks inside your tummy. One after another, the kisses multiply and they eventually turn into an intense make out session with you still sat on the counter and Jungsu’s hands wandering underneath your shirt.

His fingertips go over the straps of your bra and the feeling makes him wish he could do more with you here - strip you from your clothes, feel the most intimate curves of yours on his tongue, hear you moan from the marks he’d leave on your bare skin. He tries to stop himself from fantasising too much as his lips go red and swollen; as the warm pressure grows inside him forcing muffled sounds into your mouth.

He can’t have you naked in the kitchen, but he’s not ready to let go of you yet either.

His hands are still beneath your shirt when he breaks the kiss, letting you take a deep breath.

“We should…” he whispers through his overwhelmed breathing, but you already nod despite his unfinished sentence. “I think the storm is over, do you want to continue this in my car?”

“Y-Yes,” you say with desire dripping from your tongue. “I’d love to.”

! please do not repost, copy or translate my works

! please keep in mind that english is not my first language. i apologise in advance for any mistakes i’ve might missed

[gayassbish]

Genshin Girls When They’re Late to a Date! Modern AU

Genre: Angst, Eventual fluff

Reader: Gender Neutral

Characters: Beidou, Yelan, Sangonomiya Kokomi, Ei

Beidou-

It’s raining. Your girlfriend is late. You wonder if she even forgot your anniversary. You’re sitting at the, now wet, picnic spot that you picked hoping to watch the sunset while eating the delicious home-made sandwiches you made for her. You hoped you guys would reminisce about past time while watching the warm sky finally turn blue. This was supposed to be a romantic outing, but instead you’re by your lonesome with no Beidou in sight.

You guys have been together for a while now, and Beidou has been so attentive of your every need, making sure you’re always comfortable, safe, and warm with her around. And what’s worse? The fact that she’s sent all your calls to voicemail and hasn’t answered your texts, or that she’s smiling… climbing the hill you’re sat on and bringing a hugeee umbrella to cover you, her, and the food.

“Hey love,” she calls out quietly. You remain silent as she places the umbrella down to protect you and the already soggy food from the rain. She doesn’t sit down yet, waiting for your permission.

“Won’t even look at me, huh?” She sighs, kneeling and looking in your direction. The soft rain outlining her figure.

You sigh, “Please make yourself at home, don’t want you to get a cold.” You say with an eye roll as you’re basically an ice cube away from turning into a snowman.

She chuckles a bit as you scoot over to make space for her. She grabs your hand and gives it a rub, trying to warm you up. You let her. This is her apologizing for her being late. You can tell she feels too bad to even mention an excuse as to why she’s late right now, but you ask anyway. “Why did you come so late? The suns already gone and the sandwiches are pretty much ruined…” You speak barley even audible, but Beidou catches it. She catches everything you say.

“Well… did you eat all the sandwiches or are they all actually soggy?” She reaches for the picnic basket, imagining the wooden protective cover would keep the sandwich’s dry, plus you put them in a zip log.

You slap her hand quickly before she can uncover the basket. “Well maybe I wouldn’t have eaten all of them if you came on time!” You huff angrily, finally looking her in the eyes to see her already looking at you, with her signature hearty smile. She watches your face soften at the sight of her.

“Oh there’s those sweet eyes,” she rubs a hand over your cheek. Practically holding you captive. You can’t refuse. “Why don’t we just make this a stargazing night instead, hmm? Would you like that?” Once you nod, she pushes you down the wet blanket you laid out, cupping your face as she starts to kiss you softly.

If only you weren’t so weak in the knees for her…

P.S. You eventually found out she was late cause she saw the weather forecast ahead of time (unlike you) and left half way in the drive to the picnic spot so she could grab a huge umbrella to keep you warm. She was actually really angry at herself she couldn’t beat the rain.

Yelan-

You’re scared. It’s dark out. The restaurant is closing and your ride, your girlfriend may I add, is no where to be seen. The dangers of waiting in the street in this city is just a fiasco already in motion.

And your girlfriend knows this, hence why she’s practically never late to anything. Yelan is always looking out for any possible danger like a hawk (she can be a little over protective sometimes). But it’s been maybe about two hours since your original meeting time? You wouldn’t know because your phone is dead… You have no idea where she is, and the restaurant staff is waiting on you so they can leave.

You sheepishly apologize to the waitress closing up as you exit the fancy restaurant that Yelan reserved. ‘Where the hell is she??’ You ponder. But just as you exit out the restaurant, you see the familiar expensive black car pull up.

Yelan doesn’t roll down the window, no, she jumps out the car and runs toward you. She frantically grabs your shoulders and starts shaking you. “Are you okay?? Why weren’t you home? Did something happen? I had to track you through your phone, gosh I was worried sick.” She starts to speak really fast while she gives you a quick look around to confirm to herself that you are alive.

Once she reassured herself that you’re okay, she noticed how fancy you’re dressed and looks up to the name of the restaurant, finally remembering this was the day she invited you out to eat. “Oh… oh baby I’m so sorry.” A look a guilt fills her face as she frowns.

“Did you forget?” You chime. The disappointment still lingers, but whatever anger you felt, dissipated from the look of panic on her face. She nods, resting her head on your shoulder as you rub her back. “It’s okay, it happens to the best of us.” She stiffens at your words. She looks back to make eye contact with you and your soft sympathizing smile melts her heart. How could she ever keep someone as sweet as you waiting?

Yelan takes another look at you. Letting the sight in front of her really sink in. “You dressed this nice for me?” She smirks and you heat up.

You always shy away when she gives you that look. “I just wanted today to be special and then to look special… for you.” Yelan’s heart probably skipped a beat at that.

“Then let me make it up to you.” She opens the passenger seat and holds a hand out for you. Nothing but determination set on her face as you accept the familiar warmth of her hand and climb in.

P.S. I bet she ended up taking you to Mcdonalds cause basically nothing is open late anymore (Thanks a lot COVID)

Kokomi-

You’re worried. The crowd of the movie theatre starts to disperse and there’s still no sign of Kokomi anywhere. It’s maybe about an hour after your meeting time and the movie is already halfway done probably. You decide to venture out the cinema to the busy street, sun hitting your eyes as it’s still bright out.

But this sunny atmosphere doesn’t help the fact that you’re worried sick, not for yourself but Kokomi. She actually planned this date and she isn’t picking up her phone. ‘God what if something happened to her.’ You’d never forgive yourself if something did. You made a promise to yourself to always protect her.

You knew Kokomi had a habit of over exhausting herself; that she tends to sorta just crash afterwards and needs time to recharge. This weekend was supposed to be a celebration for completing finals week, but maybe the cramming got to her.

After wandering around the city for a bit, occasionally calling out your lover’s name, you decide to head to her dorm. Luckily it’s not far away. It’s a 10 minute walk, but you make it five as you’re in a hurry to make sure she’s okay.

While rushing a flash of pink strides past you as it takes you a second to look back at the familiar backside of your girlfriend.

“Kokomi! Wait up!” You immediately dash as she turns around at the sound of her name. She pauses. The look of panic of her face turns into a scrunched up one as she starts to cry at the sight of you. There’s eye bags under her eyes, her hairs a mess, and she’s still in pajamas. She still looks like the princess she is though, but you can tell she was rushing to meet you.

She runs over to you and frantically exclaims, “I’m so sorry, I slept through my alarm and set so many to make it on time cause I really wanted to watch this with you but I didn’t hear the ring. You’ve been looking forward to movie weekend for so long cause of finals and so have I cause I needed to see you. But I’ve been so tired from all these all nighters and-“

“Kokomi calm down, it’s okay. You’re okay and that’s all that matters.” You grab her and give her a hug, trying to sooth her down as she bawls in your arms. “It’s okay, everything is okay now.” You rub her back as she eventually pulls herself together.

“Ugh sorry you had to see me like that. I look like a mess right now.” She looks at her feet and tugs at the shirt she’s wearing that has different toothpaste stains.

“Oh my god, don’t be ridiculous Koko.” She flushes at the sound of her nickname as you comfort her. “Even if you were covered in mud or fell into a trash can, you’d still be the prettiest girl in the world.” She blushes even more at your words and gives you another hug.

“I really missed you this week.” She says, hugging you even tighter.

“I know, so did I. Why don’t we just do movie night at your place?” You pat her head as she nods. You guys hold hands on the way back as Kokomi eventually returns to her passionate self in your presence.

P.S. She forgot her phone as she rushed out to get you.

Ei-

Your girlfriend doesn’t leave the house often. She’s really busy and tends to be a homebody anyway, so this weekend you wanted to take a road trip to the nearby beach and finally enjoy some sunlight with her. Don’t get me wrong, staying home with Ei makes for a passionate and cozy atmosphere, but you wanted more of a romantic environment sometimes.

Hence why you’re here, voice mailing Ei wondering if she’s still at the beach hotel. You guys would’ve walked to the beach together if it weren’t for the fact that Ei still has some work to finish up and told you that’d she’d meet you there soon.

At first you were having fun, playing in the water and sand, but it’s been a good hour since Ei said she’d be coming. Now, an hour might not seem too long on the beach given there’s a lot to do, but Ei said she’d be coming out soon. And while Ei isn’t very good with time management (she’s a perfectionist who takes the lasting seconds to perfect her work) she promised you that this weekend was just going to be you, her, and the big blue sea.

You sit on the sand, wet from the sea but not cold with the sun’s glare. You watch the waves go back and forth. The wishy-washy sea oddly reminds you of your relationship. There’s those times where it feels like the perfect relationship in the world, but then its goes back to times like these. You don’t like being mad at Ei, she has her reasons of course, but you just want to be the priority sometimes.

You get lulled out of your thoughts at the sound of your name. “Y/N! There you are, I’ve been looking for you. Are you ready for the beach?” You turn around to see her huffing and puffing from running. But once she sees a gloomy look on your face she asks, “What’s wrong?” She sits down next to you and looks to you for an answer.

“I…,” you sigh. You can’t say it. Ei works hard; not to play hard, but she works hard to provide. She’s paying for this trip and you just can’t bring yourself to complain. “No, sorry it’s nothing-“

“Y/N tell me. I know when something is troubling you.” She cuts you off and gives your hand a squeeze. She looks so attentively at you, searching your eyes for an answer.

“I just wish you’d spend more time with me… you promised it’d be just you and me, but you’ve spent more time with your laptop than me and I just… I just don’t get how I can miss my girlfriend when she’s right next to me.” You poor everything out in the open as a silence lingers in the air. You don’t meet Ei’s eyes, slightly worried she might be angry.

But you’re met with a hug instead. “I’m sorry. I know it doesn’t feel nice to be put second. Work has been hectic lately, but I promise- no enough promises. I am going to be the best for you. You deserve nothing but the best. I’m sorry I kept you waiting, I didn’t realize the time passed by.” She doesn’t let go of the hug. “Please say something.” She burrows her head in your neck.

You wrap your arms around her back and feel her soften up in your arms. “I know you’re trying. You try every day to be your best not just for me, but for yourself too and that’s what I love about you. So it’s okay, I understand. Just can we put work aside this once and focus on each other?” She looks back at you with sparkles in her eyes and holds your hands.

“Really? You don’t want to scrap the whole thing?” She asks, cautious she fucked things up this time.

“No, of course not!” You get up as the look of shock still lingers on her face. “Common the waves are going to get cold soon!” You pull her hand as you get up and run to the waters. Laughter trailing behind you as you meet the waves again with your feet. The waves make you now realize that every relationship has its highs and lows, but the beauty of a relationship is working through those lows.

A/N: writing about women instead of doing my home work >>

[logbush]

Yay a Glee (Quinn) writer! lol I miss her! Can I request reader lending her sweater to Quinn, when Quinn is home, she realizes she still has r’s sweater and she find r’s iPod. Out of curiosity, Quinn looks through it and finds a playlist titled with her name, friends to lovers please! :)

Lost Something?

1,035 words

fluff

quinn fabray x reader

a/n: this was hard to write for some reason lol. keep sending your requests, im working on them right now and they should be out sometime soon!!

if someone would’ve told you that you would’ve fallen for your best friend quinn fabray, you would’ve laughed in their face. but here you were, sitting across from her at breadstix trying hard not to lean over and kiss her. she was wearing a red sundress, matching her red headband, and jeans. a look that made your knees weak. you, however, had decided to dress down for the occasion, a hoodie and sweats, you didnt expect her to dress up so you didnt.

she looked at you and laughed softly “whats going through your mind, y/l/n,” she said softly before taking a bite of her food. you shook your head “no nothing, dont worry” you replied before pushing your plate away, something you did whenever you were done with your food. “you’re already done? i just started!” she joked, trying to finish her food faster. “hey, we dont have to finish at the same time” she laughed softly before copying you and pushing her plate away towards you after she finished.

the waitress brought the check by, you and quinn looked at each other. you both wanted to pay but you didnt want to fight about it so you just let her. she smiled as she reached for the check and put her card in it. you sat back and looked at her with a smile. “you let me pay?” she questioned. “i didnt want to fight about it” you answered. she shook her head “we wouldn’t have fought, i would’ve just made us get my way” she smiled while you laughed, “sounds like a fight to me” the waitress brought back quinn’s card. the blonde said a quick ‘thank you’ to her before the two of you got up and started to leave.

it was cold outside, ohio in december isn’t exactly the warmest. you looked at the cheerleader next to you, watching as she was shivering. you quickly took your hoodie off before handing it to her “put it on” you instructed as you walked with her to your car. she looked at you, without your hoodie you were left in just a t-shirt. she shook her head “i dont want you to freeze” she wrapped her arms around her body, trying to conserve warmth, “i’m not going to freeze, q, you might though” quinn scoffed jokingly before taking the hoodie from your hands and slipping it on, the smell of you wafting through her senses.

quinn wouldn’t never admit this to anyone, but she was starting to catch feelings for you as well. you did the sweetest things try to make her happy, like giving her your hoodie whenever she was cold or making her her favorite pastry whenever she was sad. you remembered the small things and she loved that about you.

you dropped quinn off at her house about a half an hour ago. she had been sitting on her bed in your hoodie all that time. she turned on her side and put her hands in the pocket. the blonde felt something touch her hand. curious, she pulled it out of the pocket and looked at it. your ipod. god, you must’ve been dying without this. you can barely go five minutes without music.

quinn got curious about what you had been listening to all these years so she decided to go through it. show tunes, neil diamond, john denver, billy joel, simon and garfunkel. all people she was expecting, you weren’t very new with your tastes. she kept going through it before landing on a playlist. this playlist intrigued the blonde, as it was titled ‘quinn <3’.

the cheerleader smiled at the sight before quickly clicking on it before she could think. make you feel my love, lucky, something, but one song stood out to her, you belong with me by taylor swift. the only song from this playlist she actually knew and knew the meaning of.

quinn sat stunned, the thought of you actually liking her back made her crazy. she couldn’t wait til tomorrow to find out, she needed to know now. the blonde raced downstairs and outside to her car. she got in and drove to your house, breaking numerous speeding and stopping laws.

once the blonde got to your house she knocked on the door until someone answered. just to her luck, you were the one who answered. “whats up quinn? why are you knocking so much?” quinn looked up at you, looking at you dressed in sweats and a tank top. she gently bit her lower lip before holding up your ipod, “lost something?” she said with a smirk. you smiled brightly before yanking your ipod from her hands “oh my god i thought this was gone forever! was it in my hoodie?” you questioned while bringing her inside and up to your room. quinn nodded and sat on your bed “it was, you know, there was a certain little playlist that caught my eye”

your eyes went wide and you looked down, trying to avoid any and all eye contact “i dont know what you’re talking about” you mumbled. quinn smiled and looked at you, she didnt need your confirmation, your reaction made her know you liked her. you felt the warmth of her hand on your back rubbing soft circles “hey its okay, can you look at me for a minute?” she questioned. you looked at her, scared for whats going to happen. the blonde used her hand to cup your cheek, gently rubbing the apple of it. “you like me right?” she asked. you closed your eyes in fear, you didnt want to lose her. you just nodded in response, your eyes still closed.

quinn sighed and looked at you, she knew you weren’t going to open your eyes so instead of trying to talk to you, she just placed a gentle kiss on your lips. “i like you too” she said softly. you opened your eyes slowly, making eye contact with her before kissing her again. she smiled and kissed back before laying down on her back, inviting you to lay on her. you laid your head on her chest.

“so are you gonna send me that playlist, love?”

[pascaloverx]

Rewrite The Stars

Summary: One photo changes your whole life, when you accidentally bump into a celebrity and the world starts to believe that you are a couple.

AO3 LINK next chapter

PREVIEW

Work to achieve your dreams, they say. But what they don't tell you is that even if you work hard, some dreams won't come true. But for tonight, you will believe that your dreams will come true.

"Table six has been ordering the dish for half an hour. You know how these rich people are. If you don't want to lose your job, learn to walk faster." Your supervisor speaks almost shouting at you. It even seems like you're the only one who is a waitress in this restaurant. Five stars, my ass. Obviously at the moment, you can't respond back saying that the service is terrible because half the staff is busy waiting for the big celebrity who is coming to dinner here tonight.

"Yes, chef. I'll walk faster." You rush back with the last two orders you were in charge of taking. You were supposed to be dismissed almost two hours ago but we can't leave until the big star of the night comes. Pedro Pascal.

The man of the moment. Probably the face you've seen the most all year. They're coming to dinner at the restaurant where you work that night, they made a reservation for four. Everyone is speculating that he will bring some romantic interest.

Your manager has simply spent the last three hours warning you that any mistakes today will be resolved with a dismissal. You just can't imagine a worse time.

You almost trip when you're finishing serving the couple who ordered duck in white sauce. The restaurant is in chaos and thanks to that, your manager didn't fire you. You then decide to go outside to get some air, which might help you stay on your feet for the next few hours.

You're breathing chaotically, without any rhythm. You want to escape from this almost claustrophobic restaurant. In your haste, you don't see anything in front of you. You just feel that you bumped into another person's body. Your body was almost thrown to the ground with the impact. And when you looked up, you saw him.

"Mr. Pascal, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you." You say it as soon as you realize what you did. An interesting fact is that Mr. Pascal held you tight with his arms so that you don't fall to the ground. If anyone saw from a distance they would think you were hugging each other. You immediately walk away, thinking that if your boss sees this, you're fucked up.

"Are you well? Your forehead is bleeding." He asks, touching his forehead lightly as if he were more worried about that than hiding. I bet he came through the back to avoid commotion.

"That was nothing, Mr. Pascal. You can follow me and I'll take you to your table calmly." You say, ignoring the burning in your head. What's a hurt next to losing this opportunity.

"Are you sure?" Pedro Pascal himself talks to you almost as if you were an alien because you don't allow your pain to show.

"Yes, sir. You don't need to worry about that, worse things have happened to me." You try to improve your expression so that Mr. Pascal can finally enter the restaurant. That's when you notice that you are being watched, by noises from what you imagine are paparazzi. You then take an unprofessional action. You push Mr. Pascal into the restaurant using his body as a shield so that the paparazzi cannot identify him.

"Is this how you treat your customers?" Pascal speaks as you lock the back door. Embarrassed, you turn to face Mr. Pascal after pushing him.

"Mr. Pascal, I'm terribly sorry. But I suspect there are photographers out there. I'm really sorry for the inconvenience." You say almost as if asking for mercy.

"Alright, miss. If you'll take me to my table, I promise to forget about this pushing." Mr. Pascal speaks as he watches you. You feel awkward, but you nod your head positively and lead him to his table.

[modern-day-bard]

Other Duties As Assigned: A Joel Miller Fanfiction

Content Warning: 18+ This story includes mature themes such as drinking, stalking, violence, and explicit smut. Minors, do not interact.

Chapter 6: Smoke and Mirrors

Joel

God, do I want to leave. The music here is so loud I can feel it through my boots. Not to mention there always seems to be a potential threat within the vicinity until I realize that they’re dancing, and not making a move to harm Gwen or her friends.

Despite the moderately-sized group, they are increasingly difficult to find. Where Gwen is normally the easiest woman to spot in a crowd, this one was thick. And it was full of glitter. Even though that dress of her’s was essentially designed to keep my eyes off of her, with it being as short as a shirt, it was shiny enough to catch anyone’s eye in a matter of seconds. Or so I thought, before her and her posse disappeared into the overflowing dance floor. The disco balls above do anything but aid the situation as they create sparkles over every dancing body. I can feel a headache coming on, partly due to the music, but squinting to keep my eyes on her golden locks wasn’t helping.

Our table is elevated a foot or two, so with that and our height difference, I have still caught glimpses of her within the last two hours. Sometimes, she’s looking back at me. Probably hoping that I would have given in and gone home. Not that they would’ve picked this place knowing I hate loud music and large crowds. Gwen would most likely forget my last name if she didn’t have to say it every so often. There’s no way for her to know this is my least favorite type of environment. And I’m afraid if she did, we would be here more and more often.

Looking at Gwen’s smile, however, I’m surprised we haven’t been here in the past week. I’m sure she can turn on the charm and fake it when she has to, but this all seems like authentic, bona fide joy. She spins Harper several times, making strangers wish her a happy birthday, buying rounds of shots and pushing men and women toward her friends, trying to get them all dance partners. Once that mission was accomplished, she seems to move on to finding herself a dance partner as well. A development that only makes my job harder. Several men have approached Gwen in the past hour alone. Beforehand, the interest on her part seemed to be minimal. Now it’s all doe-eyed expressions and wrapping her arms around various men’s necks. That is until they spin her around, making my jaw tighten.

One of these men, a tall, muscular guy with a buzzcut and a shaved eyebrow, has been on top of her for at least thirty minutes. I’m leaning over the edge of the railing of our lounge, trying to get as many identifying markings as I can. Just in case. What I see instead is Gwen nearly bent in half, her skirt just barely covering her—

“Are you sure I can’t get you anything? Not even the house special?”

The waitress steps in front of my view and I almost curse. She smiles energetically at me, and I feel compelled to return the gesture.

“Uh, no, thank you.”

“You can’t think of anything you’d like?” She steps forward, resting on the other side of the railing.

This must be the fourth or fifth time she’s checked on me. It’s tempting not to admit to this waitress that I’m a security officer. I’m allowed to do so, but I usually think it’s best not to announce that when it’s not already blatantly obvious. I’m not sure if anyone here recognizes Gwen, and having security with you could be a compelling reason to look someone up.

“I’m sober,” I lie, “Thanks though.”

“Well, we have soda, water, anything your heart desires.” She tries again with a smile.

“I’m fine. I appreciate it.”

“Oh, okay,” she looks slightly dejected. “Let me know if you change your mind.”

I feel a pang of guilt, wondering if she was hoping for a tip.

I go back to watching Gwen and her friends for a few minutes, but when I see the waitress come around again, I flag her down and slip a twenty on her tray. She winks at me, and I’m not sure how to respond to that. I settle on a small wave.

When I look up, I scan the crowd again. I see Landon, Aria, Nyah, Harper…Mateo…and…no Gwen.

Maybe she went to the bathroom, but I’d assume at least one of her friends would go with her. Wouldn’t they? Then I look for the burly, handsy man. No sign.

Fuck.

The large room is incredibly dark, only flecks of light being picked up by the disco balls above. It’s possible that Gwen and that stiff Tree Man are just bending down for a moment, and the strobe lights didn’t pick up on it. It’s possible another group is just in the way for a minute. It’s also possible that the guy forced her to leave the club, or dragged her to the back alley…

I’m not taking any chances.

I push through the crowd, spotting Nyah first.

“Miss Abiola,” I call, dodging a grinding couple on my right. Nyah sways to the music in front of me, her eyes closed. “Miss Abiola!” I try again, but all she does is raise her arms above her head.

“Nyah!” I shout, finally getting within a foot of her.

Her eyes shoot open, clearly startled, even with everything going on around her.

“Miss Abiola, I’m sorry, but have you seen Miss Russell?”

Nyah looks confused, before slowly nodding in agreement. Whether it be the alcohol, or the noise, she takes a few moments to respond.

“I thought she was at the bar with Aria.”

I look to my left to see Aria and Mateo chatting to each other above the music. “She’s not. Do you have any idea where she could be?”

Nyah takes her time looking from left to right. She even spins in a very slow, deliberate circle. “Nope. No idea! Maybe she’s at the bar on the other side?” Why would she go to the bar when they paid what was probably an egregious amount of money for bottle service?

I size her up for a minute, and the tiniest of smirks ghosts across her face.

“Miss Abiola, if you know where she is, you need to tell me. It’s a safety matter.”

Her big brown eyes grow innocent, and I know she’s trying to stall. “Call me Nyah. And I’m sure she’s being well taken care of.” I don’t miss the inneduo in her tone. I don’t particularly like it either.

“That doesn’t answer my question, Miss Abiola.”

“It’s a party, Mr. Miller,” she mocks my voice, “Try and have some fun!”

This is useless. I spot Landon a few paces away and make my way over to them instead.

“Have you seen Miss Russell?” I won't waste time with the pleasantries now.

“I’m just getting back from the bathroom,” Their face at least, seems honest. “Last I saw she was with a guy.”

“Do you know if they’ve left the club?”

Landon shakes their head. I look to my right, seeing Harper a ways away making out with someone in a fairy costume. Nyah was behind me dancing, and Aria and Mateo were still deep in conversation on the dance floor. That leaves only one person in this group left. I thank Landon, and call Rodney as soon as I make it to the door. He picks up just as I make it outside.

“Rodney, did you take Miss Russell home?”

“No. She texted me asking to make sure her friends make it home safe.”

I grip the phone tighter. “Did you happen to ask how she was getting home?”

Rodney pauses, “No, sir.”

I curse under my breath. “We’ll need to discuss this later. Can you pull up front?”

Rodney arrives less than three minutes later. I have him take me to two of the nearest clubs, wondering if the pair of them would have stumbled into the next available place. But why then wouldn’t Gwen just stay with her friends? What would be the point in going to another club? A nervous feeling in my chest blooms, as I think about the possibility of them going back to his place. She has no idea about the break-in a few months ago. She’s been lulled into a false sense of security by everyone around her, which is probably one of the reasons she sees me as such a nuisance. She’s a beautiful woman in her twenties. In her eyes, why shouldn’t she go home with a random stranger? My heart pounds, and the flashbacks come. Finding her, telling her family, that hollow feeling that it all could have been prevented…

I jog back to the car after quickly checking the inside of another dive bar. Rodney waits for me to name the next place, but I pull out my phone instead. I call Gwen’s number, and it rings and rings and rings. The cheery tone in her voicemail box only fuels my anger. I try calling her two, three, four more times. So her phone isn’t dead, and it hasn’t been turned off. On the sixth try, it rings for a moment, and then I get sent right to voicemail. She had to do that herself. I try calling her again, and the same thing happens, this time after two rings. Yeah, not dead. She just doesn’t want me checking up on her. Or worse, and someone else is declining my calls.

I check my watch, it's already past midnight. There must be hundreds of thousands of bars and nightclubs in Manhattan alone. There’s no way I can check all of them, and there’s no way to know if she’s still out or if she’s gone home with that man.

Gone home with him…

“She allows many visitors into her apartment. Late night guests, I should say. Never does a background check, never worries about being robbed, or worse.”

Arthur’s words ring out in my head. She’s obviously been sick of having me in her space since the moment I arrived. And I have a feeling that she would get a sick little twist out of me looking for her when she was in the most obvious place she could be.

“Take us back to her residence, Rodney.” He replies with no more than a nod.

It’s an agonizing twenty-five minutes with the nightlife traffic. When we park in the garage, I leap out of the car without another word to Rodney. The elevator takes what feels like twice as long as usual to get to me, and three times its normal speed to bring me up to Gwen’s apartment.

Once inside, my chest clenches so hard that I rub it to try to ease some of the tension. The kitchen and living room are dark. It doesn’t look like anyone has been back here yet. I walk toward the back windows, even though I know she won’t be hiding behind one of the couches. I might have been wrong. She might be halfway to Jersey by now, or tied up in the back of somebody’s car. She might be—

There’s a loud clang at the end of the hall.

My fear chills my bones enough to freeze me where I stand, if only momentarily.

Thump.

That one was definitely in the apartment.

I move immediately, striding as fast as I can toward the noise. My feet don’t move nearly as fast as I need them to, each step makes this night feel eerily familiar to the one I’m always trying to forget. But I keep moving toward her room. A room that I now realize has a closed door. I put my hand on the doorknob, and I’m about to turn it when I hear a heavy moan on the other side. I tense up. She could still be in danger. With that notion, I try the door. But it’s locked.

I’ll break it down. I raise my right leg and—

“Oh God, yes.” That is undoubtedly Gwen. And undoubtedly a sigh of pleasure, not pain.

I lurch back from the door, feeling my face heat as I trip over myself and into the other side of the hallway. At least it solves the fact that she is no longer in danger. A weird, almost hopeful, part of me wonders if she could be in there alone. But shortly after, a string of loud, masculine grunts sounds through the door in tandem.

I take a few deep breaths, trying to hone in the anger that threatens to escape. I’m angry at Gwen for running out without telling me, angry at Rodney for not calling me as soon as she texted him, and I’m also angry at Gwen for taking this guy back to her place. I guess I’m glad she’s not in some random man’s home, but she doesn’t even know him. He can still be crazy even if they’re not at his residence.

And fuck, I’m angry at that protein-infused man in there, too. I’m not exactly sure why, but I don’t care.

I’m still standing in between our two rooms, the anger and relief in my chest conflicting with each other and leaving me stunned.

“Harder,” Gwen cries out.

That’s it. I can’t—I can’t take this. I can’t barge down the door. She is technically allowed to do what she’s doing. But I can’t listen to it any longer. I can’t leave, as I’m still supposed to remain in the same building with her at all times. And I also want to make sure he doesn’t steal anything or do anything harmful once they’ve… finished. I grimace to myself. No, no, once they’re done. Not once they’re finished. Christ, I need to get out of this hallway.

I haul myself into my room, closing the door as quietly as my temper will allow. I don’t want to fuel Gwen’s ego by giving her the satisfaction of a slammed door.

It takes me a minute to find the headphones I brought with me. They aren’t noise canceling, but they’re the best I’ve got right now. I blast the first song that I can find, and text Rodney. I tell him Gwen is here, and to bring the car back to the club to take her friends home. Then I pull out my laptop and email Angus. If Guinevere wants to play games, I might as well contribute to the playbook.

Even with the music blaring far louder than I would normally allow, I can’t miss the conclusion of Gwen and muscle-man’s escapades. The man lets out a cringe-worthy whoop!

And then…nothing.

No noise from Gwen. I end up smirking.

He didn’t look like the type who could satisfy her.

My eyes grow wide. Or any woman! I hurry to finish the thought. Not just Gwen. He just looked like the type who couldn’t satisfy any woman. I shake my head, turning up the music until my eardrums ache. I remind myself repeatedly that I’ve already made it two weeks. If I can get through that a few more times, I can get out.

As I wait another twenty minutes for the man to leave, I have to physically shake my head to avoid thinking of how Gwen might look right now. Cheeks flushed, eyes sleepy. Or based on what I heard, maybe none of that is true. Maybe she’s frustrated, laying there waiting for him to leave so she can help herself—

My anger grows like wildfire, knowing this is exactly what she would want. She wants me to feel uncomfortable, unwelcome. And these thoughts are certainly unwelcome. And completely inexcusable at that. She’s my client. She deserves some basic respect, not me sitting here wondering if tonight was as pleasurable for her as it was for that man. I don’t want that anymore than I want the bizarre, envious stir in my stomach.

At the thirty minute mark, I hear Gwen’s door open, close, and one pair of heavy feet make their way to the elevator. I take a long, exhausted breath, leaning back on my elbows when I hear the elevator doors shut.

Just a few more weeks. A few more weeks of this nonsense. This blue-eyed, witty, confusing nonsense. And then I’m gone.

Next Chapter

Previous chapter

Masterlist

[envyangelic]

꩜˚₊‧⁺⋆♱⋆☠︎︎ CHANGES ☠︎︎⋆♱⋆⁺‧₊ ˚ ꩜

♱ JEFF THE KILLER X READER ♱

WARNING 18+ - THIS CONTENT CONTAINS DESCRIPTIVE GORE, MURDER, MENTIONS OF CANNIBALISM, MENTIONS OF SA, ATTEMPTED SA, USE/MENTIONS OF DRUGS/ALCOHOL, STALKING, SMUT, AND VULGARITIES. YOU’VE BEEN WARNED

PART ii of the CHANGES series

YOU HAD TO GET AWAY, it was run away or succumb to the consequences. You felt helpless as you hurriedly packed a bag of clothes, whatever money you had left from waitressing, and whatever else had any sentinel value.

You stuffed it in and zipped it tight. You let out an aching cry gripping the fabric of your clothes. A few knocks pound on your wooden door. You let out a panicked huff and wipe your tears.

“Y/N?” The familiar sound of your fathers slurred drunken words seep into your ears and your body freezes in place. The clicking of the handle tries to twist and open but you’ve locked it so it’s no use. His slurred speech varieties he’s concerned, he’s angry, he’s upset, and then he stops. His words drain out as your headache becomes worse. It aches as the world drowns out around you. God, why did you do it? What are you doing..

<——————————————————>

The mindless driving and empty feeling of your heart. The stomach was eating at you you hadn’t eaten anything ‘good’ for a few days. You tried to reserve water the best you could but all your cash went towards gas money. You looked in the mirror above you, a new you, a new hair cut, a new color, an innocent you.

You sigh as you turn your radio up. It was fine for a while, you’d just entered Oregon a few hours ago and had been traveling on the backroads trying to stay away from the main ones. The ride is smooth for the next half hour until your car rattles with a unfamiliar sound. That and the combation of your headache makes you bang your hand with your head.

“God damnit!” And that makes angry tears slip from your eyes and down your cheeks. Everything is going wrong, all in a span of days your world has corrupted and fallen apart. You have fallen apart. Tears turn into sobs and the world becomes practically non existent as you try to rest your head on the steering wheel for just a minute.. just a minute..

“Hello? Hey” You were being shaken awake by a mysterious hand. A sound of a loud non stopping horn irritates your head as you pick your head up from the steering wheel squinting your eyes trying to make out the people infront of you. Your heart quickens.. please don’t know my face.

A boy with dark curly hair and a cigarette hanging out of his mouth and another boy with white blonde hair stares at you concerned. “Are you okay?” The blonde one asks. You wipe your eyes, “I’m fine.” They look at you with curiosity “Do you need anything? You don’t look like you’re in good shape miss.” The blonde recalls and put your hand on the steering wheel and bow your head avoiding the skeptical gaze of their eyes.

“I’m FINE.” You exclaim trying to start the engine. It only revs up not turning on. No.. no! . The blonde one turns around whispering something. “We can’t just leave her here. She looks like your age. The black curly haired one side glances you. “You can and you will.” You give the key one more turn and the engine completely shuts off.

The curly haired boy grumbles “Listen lady, your engine isn’t working and you look fucking awful so we can’t leave you here.” The blonde one winces at the choice of words but the curly haired one continues “Do you want us to call somebody? A ambulance? Cops?” The word cops make you jump up. You’ve gotten this far, you can’t just go back and falter.

“NO! I just.. need help with my car!” You sigh panicky and the curly haired boy shrugs his shoulders flicking the cigarette on the ground. His posture becomes sluggish and his shoulders lay back, “Alright. Well the only option you have left is letting me check the car out.” You nod your head.

“That would be.. helpful.” You mutter and the boy comes closer to the window. You turn your head looking at yourself in the rear view mirror. Your hair is chopped and shittly dyed a different color. Purple crescent moons accompany under your eyes. You do look awful.. “What’s your name?” He asks and your hands clamp the steering wheel in anxiety. You bow your head down not telling him, it’s too risky for now.

His eyes travel around the car to the front seat next to you. A bunch of opened candy wrappers litter the seat. The only thing you’ve been trying to survive on since your money started running low and you started dedicating it to gas money. All candy was from Halloween that you stuffed in your bag and didn’t remember it was there. “Fine. I’ll just call you ‘Pez’ since you have such a sweet tooth.” You let out a groan “Okay, fine.” Silence fills the stuffy air around you. Fuck this car..

“Will you help now?” They both nod “I’m Mason.” The blondie says and then points to the curly haired boy. “I’m Elijah.”

<—————————————————————>

 

Cold ice was pressed against your head. Mason tries to stop the bleeding from the back of your head with a cold ice rag. He doesn’t think your nose is broken and checked it a thousand times.but thinks you have a concussion.

Elijah sits across from you with his hands fidgeting. You can tell he’s stressed, you speak up “Elijah, it’s not your fault.” Elijah shifts uncomfortably. “I shouldn’t have taken us there. I’m sorry.” He apologizes trying not to make eye contact. He never really apologizes like this so you know he’s feeling guilty. He doesn’t apologize directly at least. He usually just subtly helps you a lot more, that was his way of sorry.

“You didn’t expect that would happen it’s not your fault.” You try to lift mood feeling bad for your friend who’s taking most of the guilt. His eyes just shift downwards at those words. You try something else “I’ll forgive you if you take my shift tonight?”

Elijah’s guilty face lights up a bit by the joke and a smile curled the side of his lips. “I always uphold my end of the deal.”

<————————————————->

You stay at their house not daring to go to yours. Also because Elijah insisted on it. He doesn’t want you getting hurt again. It’s not like you live too far anyway just a few houses down. Their house is way nicer than yours and they actually own it thanks to Mason’s rich mom and dad.

Your house is just a shitty rental house. It has one floor, one bedroom, one kitchen, one bathroom, one living room. One everything thats shitty has flaws to it. Elijah was the one who set you up with that house. He said it was cheapest you could get it and it’s better than nothing. He’s right.

Mason goes to sleep early probably because he was so stressed. Stressed about Elijah and what happened. Masons anxious about everything. Especially about Elijah and you. He’s constantly asking if you two need help with anything. You on one hand overworks all the time and Elijah on the other hand has his own set of problems. Elijah tried to give him blank details, he only said that we walked in the wrong house where we didn’t belong and got chased out. You wouldn’t want someone in your house either would you?

But his face, his unforgettable horrifying smile. You wrap your arms around yourself in a self inducing hug, you couldn’t think about this any longer or you’d go crazy. You turned the tv on for a while it just played stupid cartoons nothing worth watching l. Then you changed it to the news, that’s when the anxiety started. The news went from ‘recent weather’ to ‘recent killings. The killings got closer and closer to your small like stop town. Your mind stirs with fear.

The door lock clicking scares the shit out of you and pulls you out of your fearful thoughts. The door opens to reveal Elijah in his uniform. His eyes are tired but he notices you still up. “Hey Y/N.” He groggily mutters and motions you to come outside with him.

You watch his back turn and open the front door. You grab your coat hanging off the couch and tug it around your body.

You step outside onto the small wooden deck of their house. Elijah lights up a cigarette taking a drag. “I didn’t tell Mason everything. He’d be even more stressed than he already is.”

You understand what means by that. Mason stresses over stuff really easily. His college work already has him drowned in anxiety and if he knew every detail about today he’d be drowning in paranoia as well.

“He also didn’t you see that you got pinned down by that… freaky fuck. He was too busy starting the car and tonight when he asked about your injuries I lied and said you fell from the stairs..” Elijah confesses. “It’s been a fucked up day. I just hope that… thing didn’t follow us.”

Elijah’s eye brows furrow when you say the last part. “Thing?” He asks and you nod slowly “Elijah, he had this smile carved into his face. Didn’t you see it? When you he attacked you?” His eyes jitter and he crosses his arms in a concerned manner.

“No, he had a surgical mask on. All I saw was his eyes.” He presses his cigarette into the ash tray on the banner of the porch. You scrunch your eyes up trying to rid the picture of the man with the scarred face. “His… his face it was like carved into a smile.” Elijah’s eyes widen when you say that.

“I wish this was all a fucked up nightmare.” You mumble turning to the other side of the road where the forest’s tree stand tall and eerie. You feel Elijah’s eyes shift of yours and towards the trees. The coldness turns your warm face into a flushed pink. The silence is filled with the crumbly leaves from the trees crinkling together. You hear Elijah sigh. He lifts his arm and places a reassuringly hand on your shoulder. “It’ll be okay.”

<————————————————————>

It was okay. A few weeks flew by without seeing the man again. Thankfully, you’ve healed from your wounds and life has been back to normal. As normal as it could get.

The same old same old, rationing the little money you had for food and gas money. Picking up any shift you could and dealing with the rowdy regulars that drank til midnight. You would force a smile and drunken them up even more in hopes of petty tips.

Mason had gone from stressing about Elijah’s safety back to stressing about school. And Elijah… he stopped giving a fuck after two days. You were still paranoid but after a week of nothing happening you decided to retire from stressing. Every now and then the man’s face plagued your dreams.

Worrying was a normal thing. There was lots of thing to worry about money, your job, your friends, and everything catching up to you.

But stressing, stressing was worse. Stressing about someone who really isn’t there. But you got over it, you had to. You have a shift tonight four - eleven.

You quickly shower and blow dry your hair. Then you put on some light makeup and your signature hairstyle. You’re content with the somewhat efforts for work. Picking up your car keys you lock the door and make your way to your car.

You had to make one stop to pick up Elijah. The car pulls out of the driveway and skids down the road towards Elijah’s house. You pull into the driveway and Elijah is already ready sitting on the porch’s step.

He’s occupied with his phone, you smirk to yourself. You push your fist into the car’s horn causing a loud noise to erupt and Elijah to jump up. When he notices it’s your car his lips tug into a smile and his posture returns to its sluggish form.

“Har. Har. You’re just so fucking funny.” He sarcastically remarks. “Hello to you too sunshine.” He turns clicking the seatbelt in.

“Where’s Mason?” You ask and Elijah twists the radio on. “Studying all day. Some important tests coming up. You pull out of the driveway. “He always has imporant tests, does that boy ever get a break?” “Nope.” The rest of the car ride is filled with small talk.

The beginning of the shift is normal like usual . It’s steady only a few people coming in every hour. A few hours through around nine Elijah walks outside for a break. You can already tell what he’s doing. He comes back in fucking stoned.

You side eye him. He shakes it off. He doesn’t seem too bad though. He still gets the orders right and even becomes a bit more useful. (Now that his mind is stimulated)The night becomes less steady even dead and only a few people are left in the bar around 1030.

An older gray woman who sits on a stool down the bar island. Fidgeting with the chunky rings on her wrinkly fingers. And A guy with a navy blue hoodie on and black jeans whom was waited on by Elijah and ordered a few beers. You didn’t pay attention to him, he wasn’t your responsibility.

Elijah’s phone starts to ring and he pulls it out of his pocket answering it. You can make out a few words like “What’s wrong? Too much school work? I’ll be home in a bit don’t worry.” You can already tell where this is going .

“Pez, would you do me a huge favor.” Elijah begs “What is it?” You groan out “Mason is really stressed with work, do you mind if I leave you to closing?” You think for a few and reluctantly agree to it. You were a bit still paranoid about the incident a few weeks back. But you shrug it off and the possibilities of anything happening like that again.

It didn’t nerve you too much as you wave him a goodbye. “Cya, Pez.” Elijah clocks out and leaves through the bar exit. Leaving you with the older woman and the man with the hood above his head. You can handle the rest of the night, right?

[fridamoss]

IS THIS LOVE (THAT I'M FEELIN'?) | BOB FLOYD X LOOT (PART 2)

Archive of Our Own // Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6

Summary: Bob & Loot go on their first date.

Warnings: Smigde of weight issues mentioned. Flufffffffffffff

Word count: 1,603

‘Let me just check…you’re a nervous driver but you’re cool with going transonic in the F18?’ Loot regarded Bob with disbelief.

‘Well, in my head it makes sense. The other planes are further away, no chance of taking off your wing mirror.’ Bob expressed himself with his hands, this was the first time you’d seen him speak so much. He smiled his crooked smile a lot, looking off to the side with a grin each time you challenged him on something.

‘Whatever you say, Bob. Not that any of them could just shear your aircraft in half with little effort and leave you to fall out of the sky…’

Bob scoffed, ’that could happen to you once in your life, how many times you had a fender bender?’

You shook your head, ‘I’m a great driver, actually. I’ve never hit any one and fell out of the sky…’

‘Ok ok, fine.’ Bob raised his hands, his cheeks were hurting, he’d never met anyone who could make him smile as much as you. He’d thought about trying to secure a second date, but you’d only been on the first for two hours.

Usually that’s how long the dates lasted before they realised he was too shy, too awkward, too quiet.

The waitress came by to squeeze more plates onto your already cramped table. Tapas is always a good idea, you thought sharing some food would be a way to open him up a little. Bob would steal glances at you when you stuffed something into your mouth, you’d always had a good appetite.

‘My mother used to joke that when I wasn’t eating, I was thinking about food.’

‘Food is awesome.’ Bob pressed his lips together on hearing himself. ‘If you got nothing important to say, say nothing.’ Is what his father would tell him.

‘Too right food is awesome.’ One of the parma rolls was lodged in your cheek as your face lit up from a smile. ‘When I joined the navy I had to get into serious shape,’ waving a hand to let Bob know he didn’t need to picture you several years ago. ‘Body composition never mattered to me but it seemed to matter to every one else.’

‘I think you look perfect.’ Bob blurted out, spearing some potato onto his fork.

His eyes were looking everywhere but at you, he’d embarrassed himself again. Every time he had that look, you wanted to reach across and grab his chin and kiss him right on the mouth.

Maybe later, you didn’t want to scare the man away.

Plates empty and virgin cocktail glasses drained, Bob felt a nagging feeling in his tummy, he didn’t want the date to end. Luckily, he’d chosen a restaurant which was a bit away from your apartment, so at least there would be the drive home.

‘Hey, um, do you maybe wanna,’ Bob was scratching the back of his neck nervously. ‘I’d like to go on another date with you.’ The strong voice was coming back. Tell her what you want, it said.

‘If we do,’ you started, Bob felt himself deflate a little, maybe you didn’t want to see him again.

‘There are a couple of rules. Number one, no group dates, I want you all to myself and no trips to the movie theatre, I pretty much want to actually see you the whole time.’

‘Deal,’ Bob almost yelled, the tips of his ears turning as pink as the sunset they were watching.

You had your feet dug into the soft sand, arms wrapped around your knees.

‘Maybe we can hire a boat.’

‘I’d like that,’ he nodded, honestly he would agree to almost anything as long as he could spend more time with you.

‘A row boat, specifically.’

‘Why specifically?’ Bob mirrored your sitting position, his cream coloured vans almost indistinct from the sand.

‘So not that I’m a creep or anything but I’d really like to see you sweat. Put you through your paces, ya know?’

Bob threw you a look, ‘no one has ever really flirted with me the way you do. It’s nice,’ he added softly.

You leaned in to bump his shoulder, wondering what he’d look like without his shirt and his dark green sensible jacket.

‘But for real, I just like boats. I originally thought of joining the navy to go to the submarine division. Then I realised I don’t like the confinement, the thought of being stuck somewhere kinda brought up old feelings.’

‘Old feelings?’ Bob urged.

‘This sounds stupid but I grew up cut off from a lot of things, like a cult situation.’

Bob raised his eyebrows in surprise, of all the people he’d met, you’d seemed the most care free, world wise and interesting. ‘I don’t wanna seem dismissive but I find that hard to believe.’

You shrugged, ‘that was part of the reason why I choose this life. Far, far away from the old one. I still want the structure but oddly enough, the navy gives me more freedom than I’d had before.’

‘I get that. My dad was navy, so I was expected to join but honestly, I love it.’

‘No matter where you come from, you end up right where you need to be.’

Bob turned to look at you, your eyes were glazed over a little, looking back at him.

Now is the time to kiss her, confident Bob suggested.

Leaning in, his lips found yours. Softly at first, just a lingering kiss before he felt your hand on the back of his neck pulling him in closer.

His glasses shifted and he moved away, looking down at your lips, still puckered, opening a little.

‘You’re real nice.’ His brain was beginning to misfire, he wanted to put his hands on you but he didn’t know how to ask.

‘Bob,’ you whispered, ‘stop thinking and kiss me.’

‘Yes, ma’am.’

After a moment of sweet kisses, Bob gingerly placed a hand at the back of your head, rubbing this thumb softly against the lobe of your ear.

Hearing your satisfied sigh, he chanced touching your waist with his free hand.

Bob

A delicate whimper of his name spurred him on, kisses becoming greedier, harder.

Pushing you onto your back in the sand, he hovered over you, eyes meeting yours as he pulled away, silently giving him consent to continue.

Boldly, the hand that was sitting at your waist began exploring, the backs of his fingers running along the bare skin above your waistband.

If he had shoved his hands down into your panties right then and there you would not have protested. But he was a goddamn gentleman.

The breeze was kicking up, when you opened your eyes you could see it ruffling his sandy blonde hair. You ran your fingertips across the wild strands, Bob’s eyes were searching your face.

Were the kisses over? He really hoped they weren’t.

He was reaching under your shirt, how very daring of him. You could see the desire to continue etched in his expression.

You lifted your head so your lips met his in a chaste kiss. There was that crooked smile again. You loved it. You already loved it.

‘Can I bring you out in a row boat soon?’ Noses touching, fingers sliding up over your ribcage, goosebumps in their wake. You rolled your hips to meet his, feeling him for the first time. Just a quick check, he was growing against you. He cursed under his breath.

‘Will we get the boat now?’ He nipped at your neck, trailing kisses to your collarbone.

His hair was thoroughly mussed from your enthusiasm, he let out a long breath as your nails scratched his scalp.

You giggled in response, this was the perfect evening. Sunset on a beach, with Bob laying on top of you, kissing as much of you as he could.

‘Ok, ok,’ he said finally, pushing himself up onto his knees. ‘I don’t want to get caught canoodling on the beach with a fellow lieutenant, we can’t get into trouble yet.’

‘Canoodling? What decade are you from Floyd? And what do you mean “yet”? I thought you were as far from a trouble maker as I could get.’

Bob ran his hand along your stomach, settling back on his heels. ‘I might surprise you.’

‘You have no idea how sexy you are, do you?’

No, he really didn’t. He blushed and lowered his head, grinning shyly back at you.

‘Come on, I’ll drive you home.’ You stood and held out your hand for him as he dragged himself up and brushed off the sand from his legs.

‘I had a really nice time.’ You were leaning against your car, Bob had his hands on either side of you, kissing you slow, saying some really sweet things when you broke for air.

‘Next time I see you, I’ll be expecting a kiss.’

‘At work?’ Bob squinted, wondering how much trouble he’d be in if he grabbed you for a passionate kiss on the tarmac.

‘Maybe not at work, let’s try keep it professional, kay?’

Bob nodded in agreement while he kissed you. After what seemed like one thousand kisses, he walked up to his door and turned to wave you off. Touching his lips, where yours had been, your lips.

He didn’t remember kissing anyone else that way in his whole life.

He fell onto the couch, kicking off his sandy shoes on the rug. Fanboy turned to greet his roommate, barking a laugh when he saw the lovesick look on his face.

‘Dude, what the hell happened to your hair!’

Part 3

[final-girl96]

STOLEN HEARTS CHAPTER THREE

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April 19, 1984

I scoffed and pulled the leftover chinese out. "He was fucking late and we didn't even do any studying. But I'm meeting him at the diner on Saturday at one. So I won't be home until sometime in the evening." He nodded his head, "Are you sure you're okay with tutoring him? You seem pretty upset." I waved him off, "I'm fine, dad. He's just full of himself and so fucking annoying. He goes through girls like their fucking skittles or something. One after the other!" I started to rant.

"And none of them will admit that they've been with because that would mean social suicide for them. I'm admitting they had sex with the freak if Hawkins would be the end of their social life forever!" Dad held up his hand stopping my word vomit. "The freak of Hawkins? Why do they call him that?" He asked. I sat down on one of the stools at the breakfast bar. "Because he's a metal head and plays DnD and is in a band," I said.

He nodded his head and hummed. "So because he dresses differently and listens to metal and plays a game he's a freak? This town has not changed one fucking bit." He shook his head and I sighed. "Just so you know I've never called him that. I've never judged him for that. I only judge him for the way he thinks he's the god of sex and how cocky he is and how full of himself he can be. And he's mean to people too! And–"

Dad held up his hand again. "Okay, sweetheart, I get it. You don't like the kid…wait did you say he's in a band?" I raised my eyebrow. "You're just now realizing I said he was in a band?" I asked. "I don't like it. I don't want you tutoring him or being near him." I started laughing, "oh, my god, dad! I don't plan on doing anything with him. I'm going to make sure he passes the next two tests and the final and be done with him. I am not interested in Eddie fucking Munson."

April 21, 1984

"Getting ready to go meet that boy? The boy who also happens to be in a band and can't keep his dick in his pants." I choked on the water I was drinking and looked at my dad. I patted my chest to try and help my coughing fit. "Jesus, dad! His name is Eddie and I have to meet him in half an hour…at the diner…where there will be other people."

I left the kitchen and went upstairs to get ready to leave. After getting all my stuff together I headed for the front door. "I'll take you." I turned around and shook my head. "Absolutely not! Don't you have a new album to work on? Aren't the other guys going to be here?" I asked. "They can wait." I walked over to him, kissing his cheek and chuckling. "I'll be fine, dad. Don't worry I won't let the big bad boy who's in a band corrupt me."

When I got to the diner I was surprised to see Eddie already there. What I wasn't surprised about was that he was making out with some girl in the corner back the hall where the bathrooms were. I only knew he was there when I saw his van parked out front. When I walked in I didn't see him until I sat at a table in the back where I could see down that same hall. It wasn't hard to tell it was him, especially with the hair and the big Dio patch he sewed on the back of his demi vest.

I thought about going over and interrupting them but decided against it. Instead I just got my stuff out and waited. "What can I get ya, sugar?" I looked up at the waitress standing beside the table. She was an older woman with gray scattered throughout her hair. She smacked her gum and gave me a warm smile before leaning down closer to me. "You're daddy Jac Hexley?" She whispered. I looked at her with wide eyes and nodded. "I thought so. He used to come in here all the time."

I smiled at her and looked around before they landed on my hands that were in my lap. "Don't worry, sweetie. I ain't gonna say a word. Now what can I get ya?" I looked up at her, "I'm actually waiting for someone." I looked down the hall to where Eddie was and she sighed. "That boy can't seem to keep his tongue in his own mouth. "Well, if you change your mind just holler."

A few minutes later I saw her going over to Eddie and saying something to him. The girl looked horrified that she had been caught making out with "the freak". Eddie wiped the corner of his mouth m, smirking as the girl pointed at him while saying something. I was assuming it was something along the lines of he better not tell anyone about it. Then she ran out if the diner and Eddie made his way over to me. He slid into the seat across from me and leaned back.

"You're late," he said. I scoffed and shook my head. "Actually, I was on time. If you weren't busy sucking that poor girl's face off you'd know that. Now, let's get to work. I don't want to spend more time with you than I need to." I pulled out the folder Ms. Adler gave me and laid out the first paper. It was one of his tests with little notes on the sides. He got maybe six of the questions right.

"Okay, so it looks like you struggle more with the fraction part. I looked up at Eddie not even paying attention. "Hello!" I snapped my fingers and he turned his head to look at me. "I don't need to know any of this shit to be a rockstar. So what's the fucking point?" I sighed and set my pen down. "For one you need to pass this class to graduate. For two, math actually comes in handy in the real world. Even for a rockstar."

He looked away from me and looked out the window. "You're a musician, you should know that math is a big part of music. Especially fractions. I mean to be honest I'm a little surprised you're not better in math with being a musician," I said. He looked over at me, "and what would you know about music? Huh? Look, let's just get this over with I would like to take a fucking nap before my gig tonight."

It went like this for two weeks of us arguing back and forth more than actually studying. "All we do is fight! He's impossible, dad! I mean you would think he knows this stuff with him being a musician!" I was pacing back and forth in the kitchen. Dad and the rest of the band watched as I went on a rant about Eddie. "Well, honey, there's no shame in giving up on him." I stopped my pacing and looked at him. "Dad!" I whined. He let out a long sigh.

"Alright. Maybe you just need to find a way that he'll understand it," he said. Ash, the drummer in the band, nodded his head. "Yeah, the kids in a band right?" I nodded my head. "So, that means he probably writes his own songs. Maybe you can explain it to him with music and then he'll understand it." There was a collective Yeah and everyone started pitching ideas. I just looked at them until they all stopped. "How do you suppose I do that? I've never written a song in my life."

"Maybe your dad can help out with that," Bret, the band's bass guitarist said. Dad whipped his head towards him. "Excuse me?" They all gave him a look and he groaned. "Fine. Bring him by. Me and the guys will try and help." The other guys tried to protest but he gave them a look that sgur them up. "Bring him by this weekend."