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creamflix · 2 days ago

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PHD IN LOVING YOU! — gojo satoru x (south asian) female reader [oneshot]

summary: you’ve perfected the art of running your classroom with all the intensity of a courtroom drama, leaving most of your students sweating bullets. enter gojo satoru — chaos incarnate, immune to your terrifying presence and oddly persistent in his antics. when his usual charm fails in the lecture hall, he decides to take up a part-time gig at a restaurant you frequent, just to catch you off guard. falling for someone? totally against his rules. but for you? maybe he’s willing to rewrite the script. after all, what’s love without a little melodrama?

content warnings: fluff & crack. sunshine gojo x grumpy reader. slightly “tsundere” reader. age gap of barely a few years [gojo is in his last year of college, reader has recently finished college]. mentions of alchohol, drunken confessions, frat party. food as a metaphor for love. he fell first, s/he fell harder trope. oblivious idiots in love. mentioned characters: nanami and suguru. many south asian and desi vocabulary/references, non-english words have been italicized - can be read with poc reader if you’d like.

read on ao3!

“you know, around here, they call me the strongest.”

you didn’t even bother looking up from your notes. the voice — a mix of arrogance and charm that seemed to be dripping in its own self-confidence — was impossible to ignore. you clicked your pen shut, deliberately slow, and turned your head just enough to give him the most unimpressed look you could muster.

“wow,” you said, voice flatter than a pancake in a hydraulic press. “should i clap or…?”

he grinned, and lord help you, it was the kind of grin that made people weak in the knees. unfortunately for him, you were built different. built on hard work, resilience, and the occasional well-timed tea break.

“clapping’s optional. fainting’s encouraged,” he quipped, leaning against the desk like he had all the time in the world and none of it was for anything remotely productive. his hair was somehow whiter than freshly washed bedsheets in an ad, and his sunglasses — indoors, mind you — screamed “i’m better than you” energy. he radiated main character syndrome.

you hated it already.

“yeah, no thanks,” you replied, finally closing your notebook and looking him over. he was tall — ridiculously so — and gave the impression of someone who breezed through life. his uniform was slightly undone, tie askew, and his energy screamed chaos. how was this guy even a student? better yet, why was he bothering you?

“what’s your name?” he asked, tilting his head like a curious puppy.

“assistant professor,” you deadpanned. “yours?”

he chuckled, and you immediately hated how smooth it sounded. “gojo satoru,” he said, sticking out a hand. when you didn’t take it, he dramatically clutched his chest. “ouch. is this how you treat everyone? or am i just special?”

“special, alright,” you muttered, gathering your notes. “special cases need special patience.”

he laughed again, entirely too amused for your liking. “oh, i like you. you’ve got bite. most of the other assistants here just nod and take notes.”

“maybe they’re smarter than me,” you said, shoving your notebook into your bag. “because clearly, engaging with you is a waste of time.”

his hand shot to his chest again, like he was physically wounded. “harsh. let me guess — you’re not from around here?”

“nope. just an exchange student,” you said, trying to sidestep him, but he moved to block your path with the kind of speed that made you pause. his grin widened.

“ohhh, so you’re fresh meat. perfect.”

“i’m what now?” you asked, tone incredulous.

“fresh meat. new blood. the newbie. means you need someone to show you around — and lucky for you, i happen to be the best tour guide on this campus.” he said it like it was a fact, like the sky being blue or tea being superior to coffee. “and by best, i mean me. obviously.”

“oh, obviously,” you said dryly, finally losing your patience. “listen, gojo-san —”

“just call me satoru,” he interrupted, and you could swear the man was physically incapable of shutting up.

“fine, satoru.” you narrowed your eyes. “i don’t need a tour guide. i’ve been here two weeks, and i’m doing just fine without whatever… circus act you’re trying to sell me.”

“two weeks?” he repeated, looking genuinely surprised. “and i’m just meeting you now? tragedy. an absolute tragedy. who’s been hogging all your time?”

you pinched the bridge of your nose. “my job, satoru. you know, work? responsibilities? ever heard of those?”

“vaguely,” he said, waving his hand like the concept was beneath him. “but they don’t sound nearly as fun as whatever we could be doing. come ooonnnn, i’ll even buy you lunch. do they have the food you like here? no? okay, we’ll work with what we’ve got.”

you stared at him, wondering what karmic sin you committed to end up here. but as much as you hated to admit it, he was…kind of funny. infuriating, sure, but funny.

not that you’d tell him that.

“why are you so determined to bother me?” you finally asked.

“because,” he said simply, leaning down until he was eye level with you. “you look like the only person here who won’t bore me to death. and i’m the strongest, remember? you should be honored.”

your eyes twitched. “the only thing i’m honored by is how incredibly patient i’m being right now. do you ever stop talking?”

“not when i’m around someone interesting,” he shot back, straightening up and casually stuffing his hands in his pockets. “so, assistant professor — what’s your name?”

you debated lying, but something about the way he looked at you — like you were a puzzle he was determined to solve — made you relent. “it’s y/n.”

“y/n,” he repeated, like he was trying it out. then, with another blinding grin, he pointed finger guns at you. finger guns.

“well, y/n, you’re stuck with me now.”

you sighed. “this is gonna be the longest exchange program of my life.”

⟡ ₊ . ༄

gojo wasn’t the type to waste his time on newbies. fresh faces didn’t interest him, and assistant professor types were even lower on his list of people to bother. but you? you were something else. and not in the way where people threw around the word "exotic" like it was a compliment when really it made your blood boil. no, what made you different was your no-nonsense, whip-cracking, grade-A work ethic that had the entire campus buzzing.

rumor had it you’d leave the university with a teaching badge instead of your certificate, and honestly? no one would be surprised. you were that good. the kind of good that made nanami — notoriously stoic nanami — actually praise you. it wasn’t swooning, obviously; nanami would never swoon. but if he was capable of admiration beyond his rigid work-life balance philosophy, you had earned it. the rest of the student body?

terrified.

genuinely, pant-shitting levels of fear. because for the first time in, well, forever, students were completing assignments on time. early, even.

fear, respect, or some chaotic cocktail of the two, no one dared question it. the unspoken rule? just do your work before you end up on the wrong side of assistant professor y/n.

gojo? oh, he saw all of it. the storm you stirred up, the iron grip you had on a campus that thrived on chaos. he knew you wouldn’t let him get away with his usual antics. not the skipping class, not the snarky comments, and definitely not his self-declared celebrity status. you were a buzzsaw of accountability, and gojo loved it. not in the way you think, though — don’t get ahead of yourself.

because gojoism — yes, that’s a thing; yes, he coined it — has a very clear rule: don’t get attached. people, places, things — they’re all just pit stops in the grand marathon of gojo satoru versus the world. getting attached? getting sentimental? that’s for suckers who don’t know how this game works. and catching feelings for an assistant professor? please. that would be career suicide.

but here’s the thing about gojo: he thrives in contradiction. so while he’d never admit it, he couldn’t get enough of the way you refused to be impressed by him. not his titles, not his abilities, not even his very charming face (his words, obviously). the way you rolled your eyes at his jokes instead of laughing? addicting. the way you’d cut him off mid-sentence with a pointed look? chef’s kiss.

he’d push your buttons — because of course he would — and you’d push back harder. sometimes literally, if he got too close.

“gojo,” you’d say, voice clipped as you slammed a stack of papers onto the desk he was currently lounging on, “do you even know what deadlines are?”

“do you even know how cute you look when you’re mad?” he’d shoot back with a smirk, only for you to grab the stack of papers and smack him on the head with it.

“i’m docking points for that,” you’d reply.

“good thing i’m not in that class,” he’d say, rubbing the back of his head but grinning all the same.

you weren’t like anyone else here. and while gojo would never admit it — never — you made him wonder if maybe, just maybe, attachment wasn’t the worst thing in the world.

not that he’d act on it. he had a reputation to maintain, after all.

⟡ ₊ . ༄

your hometown wasn’t kind to its students, and for women? the hurdles were sky-high. if you made it past the expectations of marriage by twenty-five, you were already considered lucky. but leaving the country? going all the way to japan to work as an assistant professor? it was practically unheard of. you fought tooth and nail for this opportunity, and everyone in your life — your parents, your friends, and especially your sleep-deprived self — knew it.

your parents bore the brunt of it back home, of course. aunties with too much time on their hands whispered about how you’d “slipped away from their hands” and speculated with relish about what a young woman like you must be doing all alone in another country. you heard about the comments in their phone calls, the carefully worded complaints disguised as updates. but you? you silently flipped every single one of those people off and worked harder.

and when you got to japan? well, you expected the students here to match the academic rigor you were used to. surely, you thought, at a prestigious institution like this one, students would treat education with the respect it deserved. but what you found instead was chaos. procrastination, laziness, and a classroom full of students who had clearly never experienced the kind of academic discipline you grew up with.

so you showed them. you brought the fire and brimstone that only years of being forged in the relentless grind of your own education could provide. your methods were strict, your expectations sky-high. deadlines weren’t suggestions; they were law. a harsh approach? maybe. but you weren’t here to make friends — you were here to do your job. and, to your satisfaction, it worked.

assignments started coming in on time. some students even began submitting them early. the whispers in the hallways stopped being about how scary you were and turned into grudging admiration. you weren’t just another assistant professor anymore; you were the assistant professor. the one who could whip an entire class into shape.

but there was one exception to your reign of order. one glaring, white-haired exception.

gojo satoru.

no amount of stern talking, rule-enforcing, or pointed glares seemed to get through to him. while the rest of his peers buckled down and locked in, gojo remained steadfastly, infuriatingly gojo. he treated your class like a casual hangout session, his assignments as optional suggestions, and your authority as a particularly amusing joke.

you tried everything. you talked to him one-on-one (he just grinned and offered you candy). you imposed stricter penalties (he seemed genuinely delighted to rack up a record number of deductions). finally, in frustration, you tried reverse psychology: ignoring him altogether.

if you thought that would deter him, though, you clearly underestimated how much gojo thrived on attention — especially yours.

at first, he made a game of it. raising his hand obnoxiously in class, only to say something irrelevant when called on. loudly announcing how much he missed being scolded by you. once, he even showed up early, leaning against the doorframe with a smug grin as if daring you to acknowledge his punctuality.

“oh, wow, professor y/n,” he said with mock sincerity, “do i finally have your attention, or should i try harder?”

you didn’t even glance up from your notes. “if this is you trying, then maybe you should quit while you’re ahead, gojo-san.”

he pouted. actually pouted. “cold as ever. don’t you think this is a little mean? ignoring one of your best students?”

you finally looked at him, raising an eyebrow. “best at what? wasting time?”

the class laughed. gojo didn’t. instead, he grinned, a slow, deliberate grin that made you feel like you’d walked right into a trap.

“oh, you’re good,” he said, pushing off the doorframe and sauntering over to his seat. “but i’m better.”

and that was the thing about gojo: he wasn’t just a student. he was a problem. an unshakable, incorrigible problem. and as much as you hated to admit it, ignoring him was harder than it should’ve been. not because you cared what he thought, obviously. but because he was just so damn annoying.

and, if you were being honest with yourself, a tiny part of you begrudgingly respected his ability to get under your skin. not that you’d ever let him know that.

⟡ ₊ . ༄

gojo knew what you were doing the second you started doing it. reverse psychology? seriously? please, he’d been playing that game for years, mostly with girls trying to “tame” him, and he always came out on top. so when you turned that tactic on him in the most mundane, academic context possible, he thought he’d laugh it off.

except, he wasn’t laughing.

it stung. not in the obvious way, like a slap or a scolding — those he could handle with ease. no, this was a slow, persistent sting that gnawed at him. he told himself it was just the principle of the thing. after all, he was gojo satoru. he didn’t get ignored. not by students, not by professors, and definitely not by some assistant professor whose job was to notice him.

so, naturally, he did what he did best: he tried to annoy you back into paying attention to him.

he showed up late with the loudest excuse he could think of, dumped his belongings on the desk noisily, and waved like he hadn’t just interrupted the lecture. “don’t mind me!” he’d said with a grin, as if the entire class wasn’t already staring.

you didn’t flinch. didn’t even pause. just kept writing on the board like he didn’t exist.

then he started asking the most absurd questions in class, his hand shooting up every five minutes. “uh, do you think math could ever, like, save the world? or is it just numbers pretending to be important?”

without missing a beat, you replied, “math can’t save the world, but it might save your grade. if you pay attention, gojo-san.”

still, you didn’t really look at him.

and that’s what got him. no matter what he did — no matter how big his antics got — he felt like you were slipping further away. it was maddening. why was he so perturbed by your lack of attention? it wasn’t like he was starved for it. hell, there were at least three girls giggling at him from the back row, clearly waiting for him to flash a grin their way.

but he didn’t. he couldn’t.

because all he wanted, all he needed, was for you to look at him. just once.

and when you finally did — fleeting, barely a second — he swore it knocked the air clean out of his lungs. it wasn’t a soft, affectionate gaze. it was clinical, assessing, like you were deciding if he was worth wasting your energy on. and yet, it made his heart race like he’d just run a marathon.

he coughed, choking on his own spit like an idiot, and the giggling girls behind him burst into laughter. he barely noticed. his entire brain was short-circuiting because of one tiny glance from you.

oh no, he thought, panic creeping into the edges of his mind.

because if this meant what he thought it meant — if the flutter in his chest and the heat rising to his cheeks were any indication — then he was cooked.

and not in the cool, suave, gojo-satoru-untouchable way. no, he was the other kind of cooked. the pathetic kind. the “i might have it bad for you” kind.

and that? that was unacceptable. because the rules of gojo-ism were clear: no attachments. no crushes. no letting someone get under his skin.

but as he caught himself sneaking another glance your way, only to find you resolutely ignoring him, he realized something even worse.

it was already too late.

⟡ ₊ . ༄

the exhaustion from the week was creeping up on you, and all you wanted was the comfort of home — specifically, a plate of steaming hot rice served just the way you like it: with spices, gravy, and soul. you had a list of places to try, but tonight, your craving led you to a cozy little restaurant tucked into the corner of the town, its windows fogged from the heat of its bustling kitchen.

the moment you stepped in, it was like being transported back home. the air was thick with the scent of turmeric, cumin, and garlic sizzling in oil. old 90’s hits blared from the bose speakers, their crackly charm only adding to the vibe. the tables were covered in laminated menus adorned with bright pictures of curries and rice dishes, and the faint clinking of plates and laughter of families made the place feel alive.

you inhaled deeply, a small smile tugging at your lips as you muttered, “finally, some real food.”

but just as the nostalgia began to settle, so did the chaos.

“auntie, i swear, if you add me on instagram, i’ll give you an extra drink on the house!”

you froze. that voice was unmistakable.

slowly, you turned your head toward the noise, and there he was — gojo satoru, in all his obnoxiously white-haired glory, standing at a table of middle-aged aunties who were giggling like schoolgirls. he was holding a menu in one hand, the other gesturing wildly as he leaned in with his megawatt grin.

your first instinct was to turn around and walk out, but it was too late. his stupid sixth sense or whatever it was must’ve pinged because his gaze snapped to yours.

for a moment, he froze, his grin faltering slightly as if he couldn’t quite believe what he was seeing. then, like the human embodiment of chaos he was, he lit up.

“well, well, well,” he said, straightening up and strolling toward you, the menu still clutched in his hand. “if it isn’t assistant professor y/n. what brings you to my establishment?”

you blinked. “your establishment?”

“yepppp,” he said, popping the “p” with a smirk. “i work here now. part-time, of course. y’know, givin’ back to the community and alla that.”

“giving back?” you repeated, skepticism dripping from your tone as you glanced at the aunties still swooning over him.

“what can i say?” he shrugged dramatically. “the people love me. i’m a man of the masses.”

you narrowed your eyes. “last i heard, you said part-time jobs were, and i quote, ‘too lame.’”

“ah, well,” he rubbed the back of his neck, the smirk slipping for just a moment before snapping back into place. “turns out, this place has… sentimental value.”

you raised an eyebrow, unconvinced, but before you could press him further, the manager — an older man with a sharp mustache and a no-nonsense attitude — poked his head out from the kitchen.

“boy! less talking, more working!”

“right, right,” gojo called back, waving him off. then, turning to you, he added with an exaggerated bow, “your server for tonight, at your service.”

“oh, god,” you muttered, pinching the bridge of your nose.

“don’t worry,” he said, grinning as he led you to a table near the window. “i’ll make sure your dining experience is unforgettable. five-star service, guaranteed.”

you sat down, glancing around at the restaurant. the energy was warm and lively, the kind of place where families lingered over their meals, and you couldn’t help but relax a little despite gojo’s antics.

but as soon as he returned with the menu, you realized relaxing wasn’t on the agenda tonight.

“so, what’ll it be?” he asked, placing the menu on the table with a flourish.

you reached for it, but he held on, his hand lingering just long enough to make it awkward.

“gojo,” you said flatly.

“right, right,” he said, quickly letting go and stepping back. “just thought i’d help you decide. you know, spice levels, portion sizes, all that jazz.”

“i think i can handle it,” you said, scanning the menu.

he nodded, rocking back on his heels like he had too much energy and no idea what to do with it. “cool, cool, cool. uh, so… how’s the food situation at the dorms? still… uh, bad?”

you looked up, startled by the shift in his tone. was he… making small talk?

“it’s fine,” you said cautiously. “why do you ask?”

“no reason,” he said quickly, rubbing the back of his neck again. “just, you know, wondering. totally normal thing to ask. not weird at all.”

you stared at him, and for the first time since you’d met him, he looked… nervous.

“gojo,” you said slowly, “did you…get this job just so you could talk to me outside of class?”

his eyes widened, and for a second, you thought he might actually deny it. but then, to your utter disbelief, he groaned, running a hand through his hair.

“okay, fine,” he admitted, throwing his hands up. “yes, i might’ve suggested to the manager that hiring me would be a strategic move. but can you blame me? you’ve been ignoring me for weeks!”

“oh my god,” you muttered, burying your face in your hands.

“but hey, look,” he said, leaning on the table with that infuriating grin, “it worked, didn’t it? you’re here, we’re talking, and you’re not ignoring me anymore.”

you peeked at him through your fingers. “you’re insufferable.”

“and yet,” he said, winking, “you’re still here. coincidence? i think not.”

you couldn’t help it. despite yourself, a laugh escaped you. maybe it was the smell of the spices or the familiar music or the sheer ridiculousness of gojo trying to be suave while fumbling a menu, but for the first time in weeks, you felt… lighter.

“fine,” you said, sitting back with a sigh. “just get me some biryani, and maybe — maybe — i’ll stop ignoring you.”

“coming right up!” he said, snapping his fingers and spinning toward the kitchen.

and as he walked away, practically bouncing with energy, you realized something unsettling.

you didn’t hate this. not as much as you thought you would.

for all his loud boasts and infuriating antics, gojo somehow managed to deliver on his promise of five-star service. you weren't sure whether to be impressed or mildly alarmed by how committed he was to the bit. the complimentary lassi arrived first, its frothy top sprinkled with crushed pistachios and saffron strands.

“on the house,” gojo said, placing it in front of you with a flourish, his grin as bright as ever.

you raised an eyebrow. “on the house? or on your paycheck?”

he clutched his chest in mock offense. “you wound me. can’t a guy just be generous without being interrogated?”

you took a cautious sip, the cool, sweet tang of the lassi immediately soothing your tired soul. okay, maybe he wasn’t completely useless. but you weren’t about to let him know that.

“it’s good,” you said grudgingly, setting the glass down.

“good?” he repeated, looking almost scandalized. “it’s amaaazzing. i personally quality-checked the batch this morning. and by quality-check, i mean stole a glass when no one was looking.”

“why am i not surprised?”

he laughed, loud and carefree, before turning back toward the kitchen. “don’t go anywhere. the main course is coming up, and trust me, it’s gonna blow your mind.”

“i’ve had biryani before, gojo,” you called after him.

he paused mid-step, glancing over his shoulder with a wink. “yeah, but you’ve never had biryani here.”

you rolled your eyes, but despite yourself, a small smile tugged at your lips.

when the biryani finally arrived, it was accompanied by a plate of papad so stacked you thought it might topple over at any moment. gojo set the dishes down with exaggerated care, his expression comically serious.

“i present to you: the finest biryani in town,” he announced, stepping back like a magician revealing his latest trick. “and, of course, an appropriate amount of papad.”

“appropriate?” you said, staring at the pile. “are you trying to feed me or an army?”

“details, details,” he said, waving a hand dismissively.

you took a bite of the biryani, the warm, spiced flavors instantly transporting you back home. for a moment, you forgot where you were, lost in the sheer comfort of the food. gojo, who had been watching you like a hawk, grinned triumphantly.

“knew it,” he said, crossing his arms. “you love it.”

you looked up, your expression neutral. “it’s okay.”

“okay?!” he exclaimed, clutching his head in mock despair. “this is a masterpiece! an edible work of art! you should be weeping tears of joy right now.”

“maybe if you’d actually cooked it, i would,” you shot back.

his grin faltered for the briefest second, a flicker of something unreadable passing across his face. “give me time,” he said softly, almost to himself.

“what?” you asked, narrowing your eyes.

“nothing!” he said quickly, the grin snapping back into place. “anyway, don’t fill up too much. dessert’s coming.”

“dessert?” you repeated. “i didn’t order dessert.”

“i did,” he said, smirking.

you groaned. “gojo, i —”

“truuuust me,” he interrupted, leaning on the table. “you’ll thank me later.”

and sure enough, minutes later, he returned with not one but four different desserts, ranging from gulab jamun to kulfi.

“are you trying to kill me?” you asked, staring at the spread.

“what? no,” he said, feigning innocence. “just making sure you have options.”

“i grew up eating this stuff, you know,” you said, picking up a spoon.

“yeah, but now you’re eating it here, with me,” he said, his tone oddly earnest.

you looked at him, surprised by the sudden shift. he was still grinning, but there was a softness in his eyes that you hadn’t seen before.

“you’re really going all out, huh?” you said, trying to keep your tone light.

he shrugged, scratching the back of his neck. “what can i say? you’re worth it.”

your breath hitched, but before you could respond, he straightened up, the grin back in full force.

“now, hurry up and eat,” he said, waving at the desserts. “i’ve got a reputation to uphold as the best server this place has ever seen.”

you shook your head, laughing despite yourself.

and as you dug into the desserts, gojo lingered nearby, shooing away any other server who dared approach your table.

“she’s got me,” he said to one particularly annoyed coworker. “go help table six.”

you rolled your eyes, but deep down, you couldn’t deny that you appreciated the effort.

because for all his theatrics and ridiculousness, gojo was trying. and maybe — just maybe — that wasn’t such a bad thing after all.

the air in the restaurant was thick with the aroma of spices, mingling with the murmur of conversation and the occasional burst of laughter. it felt like a piece of home transplanted into a foreign land, and you couldn’t help but soak it all in. across the room, families leaned into each other, sharing plates and stories, while a gaggle of aunties erupted into loud laughter.

you glanced at them and caught gojo in the middle of an animated retelling of what looked suspiciously like a made-up story. he gestured wildly, miming what might have been a tiger fight or possibly a dramatic fall into a ditch.

“and then,” he said, lowering his voice for dramatic effect, “just as i thought it was all over for me, i —”

“slipped on a banana peel,” one of the aunties interjected, to the uproarious laughter of her companions.

gojo clutched his chest. “how dare you ruin my heroic tale! i was going to say i wrestled the tiger with my bare hands!”

the aunties waved him off, and one of them, a silver-haired woman with a cheeky grin, called out to you. “dear, you need to keep this one in check. he’s too much.”

you snorted, raising your glass in mock salute. “believe me, auntie, i’m trying.”

gojo turned to you with an exaggerated pout. “i thought you were on my side!”

“i’ll be on your side when you stop embellishing your life stories,” you shot back, smirking.

“ouch,” he said, clutching his chest again, this time as if you’d shot him. “right in the heart.”

shaking your head, you turned your attention back to the rest of the room. a group of kids at a nearby table was sneaking curious glances at you. when you caught their eye and made a funny face, they shrieked with laughter, their giggles cutting through the hum of the restaurant.

one of the little girls tugged on her mother’s sleeve and whispered something, and the next thing you knew, she was waving shyly at you. you waved back, smiling, and the shy wave quickly turned into an enthusiastic flurry of hands.

“look at you,” gojo said, leaning against the edge of your table, watching the interaction. “miss popular already.”

“it’s not that hard,” you said, shrugging. “kids are easy. you just have to know how to talk to them.”

“oh yeah?” he said, raising an eyebrow. “and what about me? am i easy to talk to?”

“no,” you said flatly.

he burst out laughing, tilting his head back dramatically. “you wound me again! how many times is that tonight? three? four?”

you couldn’t help but laugh, the sound surprising you. it wasn’t one of those polite, measured laughs you reserved for acquaintances. it was genuine, a sound that seemed to echo somewhere deep inside you, loosening a knot you hadn’t even realized was there.

gojo must have noticed because his expression softened, just for a moment. “you should laugh more,” he said, his voice quieter than usual.

you looked at him, startled by the sudden change in tone. “what?”

“you,” he said, gesturing vaguely in your direction. “you’re always so serious. it’s nice to see you, you know…relax.”

you opened your mouth to retort, but the words caught in your throat. instead, you looked down at your plate, suddenly feeling exposed.

“anyway,” he said, his usual grin slipping back into place. “don’t forget to leave me a glowing review. something like, ‘best server ever, would definitely recommend.’”

you rolled your eyes, the moment broken. “sure, i’ll write that right after ‘most annoying person in the world.’”

“i’ll take it,” he said, laughing as he straightened up.

as you lingered a little longer, watching the bustle of the restaurant and sharing quiet smiles with strangers who felt like kindred spirits, you let out a sigh you hadn’t realized you’d been holding in. maybe, just maybe, it was okay to let yourself enjoy this moment. and maybe a little bit of that had to do with gojo.

the restaurant door jingled shut behind you as you adjusted the strap of your jute satchel on your shoulder, the warm scent of spices still lingering on your clothes. the streets were quiet now, a soft breeze carrying the distant hum of city life. you were about to start your walk back to campus when the sound of a dramatic skid on the wooden floor made you pause.

“hey, wait up!” gojo’s voice rang out, followed by the thundering clatter of his sneakers against the floor. you turned just in time to see him stumble slightly as he reached you, grinning like a fool.

“what now?” you asked, raising an eyebrow as he bent over, hands on his knees, panting dramatically.

“shift’s over,” he wheezed, straightening up with an exaggerated flourish.

“is it?” you asked skeptically, glancing over his shoulder to see the restaurant manager yelling furiously in a mix of japanese and some choice words that sounded suspiciously similar to the ones your dad and uncles would yell when things went sideways back home.

“absolutely,” gojo said, completely ignoring the manager’s tirade. “and besides, it’s unsafe for you to walk back alone. what kind of guy would i be if i let that happen?”

you rolled your eyes, but the corners of your mouth betrayed you, twitching into a small smile. “oh, please. like anyone would dare mess with me.”

“you’re scary, sure,” gojo said, falling into step beside you. “but even the scariest people need someone to walk them home. it’s, like, basic chivalry.”

“is it basic chivalry to leave your bike at the restaurant?” you asked pointedly, watching as his confident stride faltered for a split second.

“details, details,” he said, waving a hand dismissively. “i’ll get it later. this is more important.”

you snorted, clutching your bag tighter as you walked. “you’re unbelievable.”

“and yet, you’re letting me walk with you,” he shot back, grinning. “what does that say about you?”

“it says i’m too tired to argue,” you replied, though your tone lacked any real bite.

gojo stuffed his hands into his pockets, occasionally stumbling over uneven pavement as he talked — no, rambled — about anything and everything. from the latest anime episode he watched to a bizarre dream where he was somehow the ruler of a pancake kingdom.

“and get this,” he said, nearly tripping over his own feet. “the pancakes? they talked. like, actual conversations. one of them was trying to unionize —”

“how do you even come up with this stuff?” you interrupted, shaking your head in disbelief.

“it’s a gift,” he said, flashing you a grin. “i’m a man of many talents.”

“like tripping over your own feet?” you teased as he stumbled yet again.

“it’s called multitasking,” he said, puffing out his chest. “walking and being charming at the same time is no easy feat.”

“you’re definitely failing at one of those,” you muttered, though the warmth in your voice betrayed your amusement.

as you reached the dormitory gates, you stopped, turning to face him. “well, thanks for walking me back. now you can go fetch your bike and actually get home.”

“right, right,” he said, scratching the back of his neck. but he didn’t move, his gaze lingering on you a beat too long.

you tilted your head. “what?”

“nothing!” he said quickly, holding his hands up. “just…y’know. goodnight.”

you rolled your eyes and turned to walk away, only to pause as the realization hit you. “wait a second.”

gojo blinked, confused. “what?”

“you don’t even stay on campus, do you?” you asked, narrowing your eyes at him. “your bike’s still at the restaurant, and you just walked me all the way here. now you have to walk back.”

his grin faltered, replaced by a sheepish expression. “uh…surprise?”

you stared at him, torn between annoyance and something softer that you didn’t want to acknowledge. before you could stop yourself, your hand shot out, delivering a solid whack to his chest.

“idiot,” you muttered, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks as you turned away quickly, hoping he wouldn’t notice.

gojo, however, was too busy clutching his chest dramatically, a mix of mock pain and genuine delight lighting up his face. “owwww! was that necessary?”

“completely,” you called over your shoulder, refusing to look back.

“ya know,” he said, his voice carrying through the quiet night, “if i didn’t know any better, i’d say you’re warming up to me!”

“don’t push your luck,” you shot back, your pace quickening.

as you disappeared into the dorm, gojo stood there, a stupidly wide grin plastered on his face. he pressed a hand to his chest where you’d hit him, feeling the faint ache beneath his palm.

“totally worth it,” he muttered to himself, practically skipping as he turned to start his long walk back.

⟡ ₊ . ༄

gojo satoru had many things in his arsenal — charm, wit, absurd confidence — but subtlety was not one of them. so when he started showing up to campus hours earlier than necessary, or when steaming boxes of samosas began appearing on your desk, the culprit was obvious.

the first time it happened, you’d barely set your bag down before spotting the box, the smell of spiced potatoes and crispy dough wafting up to greet you. your eyes flicked to the door, just in time to catch a streak of white hair and the sound of hurried footsteps retreating down the hall.

inside the box was a sticky note. the handwriting was atrocious, barely legible, and at the bottom was a crude drawing of a tiger that looked more like a cat with a mohawk.

“thought you’d like these. you’re grrr-eat! – g.s. :3”

you rolled your eyes so hard they nearly fell out of your head, but your lips betrayed you, curving into a reluctant smile.

by the end of the week, you had a growing collection of these notes in your desk drawer. one had a lopsided peacock that looked like it had been attacked with a blue highlighter. another had a flower that could generously be called a lotus if you squinted and tilted your head.

the students noticed the change in you almost immediately. your usual stern demeanor softened ever so slightly, and while you were still a stickler for deadlines, you now nodded understandingly at genuine excuses.

“did you hear? professor assistant’s in a mood lately,” a student whispered loudly to their desk mate.

“yeah, but why though?”

“maybe she’s —” the student leaned in dramatically, eyes wide —“dating someone.”

gojo, who had been lounging in the back row pretending to nap, shot upright. “dating? her? no way!” he said, loudly enough for the entire class to hear.

all heads swiveled toward him.

“i mean,” he said, backtracking with an exaggerated wave of his hands, “it’d have to be someone really cool. maybe, like…an alien prince? yeah, that’s it. she’s totally in an intergalactic love affair.”

the class burst into laughter, and while the gossip shifted to debating the plausibility of alien romances, gojo stole a glance at you. you were shaking your head, lips pressed together in what he hoped was an attempt to hide a smile.

it wasn’t just the little gestures, though. gojo had also started reigning in his usual chaos. sure, he still submitted assignments late, but only by a day now, and the answers — stolen from nanami or not — were at least complete. he even started hushing other students when they got too rowdy, shooing them with a dramatic, “respect the queen, peasants,” before earning a chalk stick to the head from you.

“owwwww! abuse!” he’d whine, rubbing his head as the class laughed.

“then stop acting like a child,” you’d retort, though there was no real venom in your words.

one day, after a particularly chaotic lecture, you caught him lingering outside the classroom.

“something you need, satoru?” you asked, crossing your arms.

he froze, looking like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar. “uh, no! just, um, making sure you’re not, y’know…kidnapped by aliens or something. it’s a dangerous world out there.”

“right.” you raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. “and the real reason?”

he hesitated, shoving his hands in his pockets. “just…wanted to see if you liked the samosas.”

you softened, just a fraction. “they were fine. but you don’t have to keep doing this, you know.”

“doing what?”

“whatever this is,” you said, gesturing vaguely between the two of you. “i don’t need bribes to do my job.”

“it’s not a bribe,” he said quickly. “it’s just…you work hard. too hard, maybe. figured you could use a little something to remind you of home.”

your chest tightened, and for a moment, you didn’t know what to say.

“besides,” he added, his grin returning, “i’d never bribe you. i’m saving my bribery skills for the day you actually give me detention.”

you snorted, shaking your head. “get out of here before i reconsider.”

as he walked away, practically skipping, you found yourself clutching your satchel a little tighter, feeling the faint weight of all the silly notes tucked inside.

and gojo? as he left campus that day, he was grinning like an idiot, hand pressed to his chest like he’d just won the lottery. sure, he was falling for you, and yeah, maybe it was a little terrifying. but if falling meant more moments like these, he figured it was worth the risk.

⟡ ₊ . ༄

exam season turned the already bustling campus into a pressure cooker, and you found yourself at the center of it all. drafting question papers, aligning marking schemes, coordinating with the examination department — your plate was not just full; it was overflowing.

amid this chaos came the final straw in the saga of gojo satoru: his ban from the staff room.

it started innocently enough — if delivering steaming boxes of samosas to a restricted area could be called innocent. but when the coordinator raised an eyebrow too many and rumors of "the assistant professor's favorite student" began making rounds, the decision was swift and final.

"satoru, this is the last time. you’re banned from the staff room,” you’d told him sternly, pointing a finger for emphasis.

his response? a dramatic gasp and a hand clutching his chest. “you’re banning me? your number-one supporter? your — your cheerleader?”

“yes. cheer me on from a distance,” you said, turning away before he could see the twitch of your lips.

what followed was a week of gojo-level theatrics. he’d pout like a scolded puppy when you walked by, groaning loudly to anyone who’d listen. “my heart’s been broken,” he’d lament to his classmates, sprawling across desks like a tragic hero. “she cast me out. me!”

by day four, you were done.

you found him loitering by the library, feet propped on a bench like he owned the place, a pair of obnoxiously bright sunglasses perched on his nose.

“gojo,” you said, arms crossed.

he sat up straight at your tone, glasses sliding down his nose. “yes, teach?”

“why are you making such a big deal out of this?” you demanded, exasperation lacing your voice.

“because it is a big deal,” he shot back, standing now, his height making you tilt your head slightly to meet his gaze. “do you know how stupid i feel? sneaking into staff rooms, drawing peacocks that look like roadkill, trying to get you to notice me — just for you to shut me out? it sucks, okay?”

his words hung in the air, leaving you momentarily speechless.

you weren’t good with emotions — back home, vulnerability was a luxury few could afford. confrontation wasn’t much better. and yet, here you were, faced with both.

“satoru, it’s not —” you started, faltering as his gaze bore into yours, uncharacteristically earnest.

you sighed, running a hand through your hair. “look, i… i appreciate what you’ve done. the effort, the —” you gestured vaguely, “ — everything. but this is a professional setting, and you make it really hard to keep things, well, professional.”

his lips quirked up at that, a hint of his usual cockiness returning. “so, you’re saying i’m distracting?”

“don’t push it,” you warned, though your tone lacked heat.

he took a step closer, his grin softening. “i get it. i do. but, y’know… you could’ve just said ‘thank you.’”

you rolled your eyes. “thank you, gojo. for the samosas. and the terrible art.”

“you’re welcome,” he said, stepping back with a mock bow, the tension between you easing ever so slightly.

as you turned to leave, he called after you, “but, hey, just so you know… i’m not giving up. banned or not.”

you didn’t look back, but the small smile tugging at your lips gave you away entirely.

⟡ ₊ . ༄

you stared at the stack of papers on your desk, each one a potential pandora’s box of missed grammar, nonsensical arguments, and uninspired prose. english papers were always a minefield, and you had somehow drawn the short straw for grading them this term. but it wasn’t just the sheer volume of work that made your stomach churn.

it was gojo’s essay.

his name glared at you from the corner of the page like a taunt.

you sighed, running your thumb along the edges of the papers, already bracing yourself for the absurdity to come. he wasn’t exactly known for his academic prowess, and his past submissions had ranged from thinly veiled comedy skits to outright gibberish disguised as poetry.

but as you started reading, your brow furrowed.

"yearning," it began, in unusually elegant script.

his handwriting was still a little messy, but there was care behind each stroke, like he had taken extra time to make it legible.

the essay itself, though…

at first, you thought it was a joke. some elaborate prank he’d written to make you second-guess your sanity.

“yearning is the ache of a soul reaching for something it knows it shouldn’t want but can’t bear to let go of.”

you paused, scanning the words again, waiting for the punchline. it didn’t come. instead, the essay unfolded into something — god help you — poignant.

gojo described yearning as a quiet, persistent tug. an itch in the chest that worsened in silence and swelled in proximity. he wrote about the way it demanded attention, yet he danced around the specifics, cloaking his examples in poetic vagueness.

“it’s the way someone’s voice lingers in your mind even when they’re scolding you. it’s noticing the shape of their smile, even if it’s not meant for you. it’s knowing they’d call you a fool for feeling this way and somehow wanting to hear it anyway.”

you blinked at the page, heart stuttering as the words sunk in. this wasn’t just any essay.

it was about you.

you fought the urge to throw the paper aside, suddenly hyper aware of the way your pulse quickened.

“yearning is seeing someone’s dedication to the world and wanting, selfishly, to be a part of it. to have them look at you with the same seriousness they reserve for their passions. but it’s also knowing that some things are too good to reach for — that trying might ruin the very thing you admire.”

you sat back in your chair, staring at the ceiling as a wave of emotions rolled through you.

was this… sincere?

was it some convoluted joke? a test to see how far he could push you?

but the writing was too raw, too heartfelt to be a simple prank. you could feel him in the words, the way he stumbled through emotions he probably didn’t fully understand.

and yet, there was still that hint of gojo: the irreverence, the humor.

“yearning is stupid, really. because no one wins. either you tell them, and it’s weird, or you don’t, and you’re stuck writing essays about it like some tragic hero in a bad movie.”

you snorted despite yourself, rubbing a hand over your face.

what were you supposed to do with this?

your instincts screamed at you to fail him. this was wildly off-topic, an indulgence of personal feelings instead of academic analysis.

but another part of you — the part that softened at his ridiculous peacock drawings and earnest (if misplaced) attempts to make you smile — couldn’t bring yourself to do it.

you picked up your pen and, after a long moment of deliberation, scribbled a tentative B- in red ink. it wasn’t an outright failure, but it wasn’t exactly encouragement either.

as you set the paper aside, your thoughts swirled, torn between exasperation and something you didn’t want to name.

because even if you didn’t want to admit it, his words had reached you in ways you weren’t prepared to confront.

⟡ ₊ . ༄

when gojo walked into class that day, his usual swagger was amplified tenfold. he was practically glowing, strutting past his peers with his essay held aloft like a trophy. the grin plastered on his face was so wide, it threatened to split his face in half.

“behold, ladies and gentlemen,” he declared, tapping his paper against nanami’s head for good measure, “the masterpiece that is my essay. highest grade i’ve ever gotten. third highest in the entire grade.” he puffed his chest out dramatically, looking at you as if expecting a standing ovation.

nanami rolled his eyes, snatching the paper from gojo’s hands to inspect it. “an a-minus isn’t exactly groundbreaking, satoru.”

gojo gasped, clutching his chest as if wounded. “it is when it’s me, nanami! you don’t understand the emotional labor that went into this! the blood, the sweat, the tears —”

“the copied half of my notes, you mean,” nanami muttered, handing the paper back.

you tried to focus on setting up the lesson, suppressing the urge to smirk. his antics were nothing new, but this time, you couldn’t help but feel a faint tug of pride, even if it was mingled with irritation.

when it was finally time to hand back the essays, you made your way down the rows, handing out graded papers with your usual neutral expression. but when you reached gojo, his bright, expectant eyes locked on yours, you hesitated for just a fraction of a second.

you handed him the paper, your fingers brushing his momentarily, and he took it with both hands, holding it up like it was a sacred artifact.

“a b-minus bumped up to an a-minus,” he said with a faux gasp, loud enough for the entire class to hear. “why, teach, you playing favorites?”

you shot him a warning look, but it only made his grin grow wider.

“don’t push it, gojo,” you said evenly, though your tone lacked its usual edge.

he leaned back in his chair, still gloating as he turned the paper over and over in his hands. but behind the theatrics, you caught the flicker of something genuine in his expression — a quiet kind of satisfaction that spoke louder than his words ever could.

to everyone else, his boasting was just another act. but to you, it felt like something more, like he was seeking validation in the only way he knew how.

and for some reason, that thought lingered long after class ended.

when the bell rang, gojo didn’t rush out like the others. instead, he waited until the room was nearly empty, shuffling awkwardly near your desk.

“soooo, uh,” he started, scratching the back of his neck, “you read it, huh? like… really read it?”

you didn’t look up from the stack of papers you were organizing. “i wouldn’t have graded it if i hadn’t.”

he let out a dramatic sigh, slumping against the desk. “not what i meant. did you get it? like… the deeper meaning?”

you finally glanced up, meeting his gaze. his usual bravado was still there, but there was something softer underneath it, something almost nervous.

“i got it,” you said quietly, and for once, he didn’t have a snarky comeback.

his grin softened, and he straightened up, spinning the paper in his hands again. “cool. just… cool.”

and with that, he left, his usual bounce in his step. but as he reached the door, he glanced back over his shoulder, giving you a look that said more than words ever could.

you shook your head, letting out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. whatever this was between you and gojo, it was unspoken and strange, but maybe, for now, it didn’t need to be anything else.

and maybe, just maybe, that was enough.

⟡ ₊ . ༄

it was a rare sunny day on campus, and most students were sprawled out on the grassy fields, reveling in the freedom of post-exam bliss. the air buzzed with chatter and laughter, a stark contrast to the usually tense corridors filled with murmurs of last-minute cramming. and yet, instead of being the ringleader of some over-the-top celebration, gojo was trailing behind you like a shadow, a paper box of samosas balanced precariously in one hand and a bottle of mango lassi in the other.

“seriously, gojo,” you said, glancing back at him. “don’t you have somewhere else to be? like, i don’t know, with your friends?”

“what, and miss the chance to see you enjoy my samosas?” he quipped, flashing that obnoxiously bright grin. “besides, i’m everyone’s favorite. they’ll be fine without me for a bit.”

you rolled your eyes but didn’t shoo him away. in truth, the quiet after exams was unnerving, and his chatter filled the void in a way that was oddly comforting.

at some point, he insisted on feeding you. the first few times, you outright refused, giving him a look that could curdle milk. but then, for reasons you couldn’t quite fathom — maybe the post-exam haze, maybe the sheer persistence in his puppy-dog eyes — you caved.

“fine,” you relented, leaning slightly forward. “but if you drop even one crumb —”

“relaaax,” he said, his voice dipping into something annoyingly smooth. “you’re in good hands.”

and to his credit, he was careful, holding the samosa with an exaggerated delicacy as if it were made of glass. you bit into it, the crunch loud in the quiet that had suddenly fallen between you two.

he beamed like he’d just won a nobel prize. “seeee? told you i’d make the experience unforgettable.”

“unforgettable, my ass,” you said, brushing crumbs from your lips.

gojo laughed, the sound loud and unrestrained, drawing a few glances from passersby. “you just admitted i’m unforgettable. it’s okay, teach, you don’t have to hide your feelings anymore.”

you smacked his arm lightly, and he let out a mock yelp, clutching it as if you’d injured him.

the box was gone faster than you expected, mostly thanks to gojo’s bottomless pit of a stomach. he flashed you a sheepish grin, crumbs still clinging to the corners of his mouth.

“uhhh… i think i ate more than half,” he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck.

“think?” you snorted, shaking your head.

the two of you started walking aimlessly around campus, the kind of companionable silence that only came after shared food and banter settling between you.

at one point, gojo said something so utterly ridiculous — something about how samosas were the perfect metaphor for love, with layers of spice and warmth. you snorted so hard, you nearly tripped, your laughter ringing out clear and unfiltered.

“god, you’re such an idiot,” you said, whacking his chest lightly, only to immediately regret it.

why was his chest that solid? it was like hitting a brick wall wrapped in a hoodie.

“owww,” he said dramatically, rubbing the spot as if you’d actually hurt him. then, before you could pull your hand back, he caught your wrist.

“hey,” he said softly, his voice losing its usual playful lilt.

you froze. his hand was warm around your wrist, his touch firm but gentle, and when you looked up, his eyes were — god, they were so blue, it was like staring into a summer sky.

the world around you seemed to blur, the distant hum of campus life fading into nothing as he took a half-step closer.

“you ever notice how weird this feels?” he murmured, his tone uncharacteristically quiet. “like… i’m standing here, and you’re right here, but it still doesn’t feel close enough.”

his forehead brushed against yours, and suddenly, you forgot how to breathe. the space between you was practically nonexistent, and yet, it felt like he was somehow closing a gap you didn’t even realize was there.

“gojo…” you started, your voice barely above a whisper, but the rest of the words died in your throat.

“satoru,” he corrected softly, his eyes never leaving yours.

the proximity was overwhelming, every detail amplified — the faint scent of whatever cologne he wore, the way his lashes cast shadows over his cheekbones, the gentle rise and fall of his chest.

“don’t worry,” he said, a small smile tugging at his lips, “i’m not gonna kiss you. not unless you want me to, of course. i’m not that forward.”

the laugh that bubbled out of you was equal parts disbelief and nervousness. “you’re literally the most forward person i’ve ever met.”

“yeah, but not with you,” he admitted, and the sincerity in his voice made your heart stutter.

you pulled back slightly, breaking the moment before it could swallow you whole. “you’re such a drama queen.”

“and yet, you still stick around,” he teased, his grin returning, but this time, it felt softer, less of a mask and more of a truth.

as you walked back to your dorm, his hand brushed against yours, and though neither of you said anything, the warmth lingered long after he’d waved goodbye.

⟡ ₊ . ༄

it was a friday night, the campus buzzing with whispers of the party of the semester. gojo’s name was on every other tongue, along with exaggerated promises of free drinks, loud music, and the type of chaos only he could orchestrate. you tried to brush it off as you walked past clusters of students gossiping on the quad.

“you comin’, miss?” one of your more confident students called out, giving you a cheeky grin.

“unlikely,” you replied, raising an eyebrow but offering a small smile. “don’t think i’d blend in at a college party.”

“oh, trust me,” another chimed in, “you’d be the star of the night. even gojo would agree.”

you waved them off, feigning nonchalance, but the comment lingered.

it wasn’t like you wanted to go to his stupid party. you were a teacher, not some college kid with zero inhibitions. and yet, there was something about the idea of gojo hosting this wild bash, completely in his element, that gnawed at you.

you sighed, staring at your reflection in the mirror. the bindi perched perfectly on your forehead, your jhumkas catching the light as you moved. why not? you were in japan — far from home, far from prying eyes, and definitely far from anyone who’d lecture you about propriety.

dressed in a fusion of your traditional style and something a bit more casual, you hailed a cab, heart racing as you approached the house blaring music loud enough to rattle the street.

the party was exactly what you expected — students spilling out onto the porch, laughter and music mixing with the smell of cheap alcohol. heads turned as you walked in, your attire catching more than a few curious glances.

you ignored the whispers, stepping further into the house. the atmosphere was electric — lights flashing, bodies swaying, drinks being passed around.

and then you spotted him.

gojo was in the middle of it all, a drink in hand and a stupidly wide grin on his face. his glasses were slightly askew, and his cheeks were flushed, the telltale signs of someone thoroughly drunk.

you were about to turn and leave — because clearly, this was a terrible idea — when his voice rang out.

“oh. my. god,” he said, pointing vaguely in your direction. “you look… so familiar!”

you froze. surely, he wasn’t —

“no, seriously!” he stumbled closer, squinting at you. “you remind me of someone. someone important.”

he was too close now, his breath smelling faintly of vodka and whatever sweet mixer he’d drowned it in.

“you’re drunk, satoru,” you said, your voice steady despite the laughter bubbling up inside.

“i’m not that drunk!” he protested, swaying slightly. “okay, maybe a little. but listen! you look just like — like her!”

“her?” you prompted, folding your arms and trying not to smirk.

“yes, her!” he exclaimed, his voice dipping into something uncharacteristically soft. “she’s… she’s amazing. drives me insane, but in a good way, ya know? like, i wanna punch a wall and write poetry at the same time.”

“sounds intense,” you said, raising an eyebrow.

“it isss! she’s so smart, and — and kind, but also terrifying,” he continued, his words slurring slightly. “she doesn’t take my shit, which is honestly hot as hell. and her laugh — oh my god, her laugh! s’like… like a warm hug, but for your ears.”

you bit your lip, trying to hold back your laughter. “sounds like you’ve got it bad.”

“i doooooo!” he groaned dramatically, leaning against the wall for support. “but she doesn’t even like me! well, maybe she does? sometimes? she whacked me the other day, and i think that’s a good sign.”

at that, you couldn’t help it — you burst out laughing, the sound lost in the thrum of the party. gojo blinked at you, his expression shifting from confusion to dawning realization.

“wait a second…” he said, leaning closer, squinting as if trying to piece together a puzzle. “no way.”

“yes, way,” you said, your laughter subsiding into a soft chuckle.

his jaw dropped, and for a moment, he just stared at you, his mouth opening and closing like a fish.

“oh my god,” he finally managed. “you’re her! you’re you!”

“brilliant observation,” you teased.

he groaned, covering his face with one hand. “this is so embarrassing. please tell me you didn’t hear all of that.”

“every word,” you said, grinning.

“kill me now,” he muttered, sliding down the wall dramatically.

“don’t worry,” you said, crouching down to his level. “i’ll keep your little rant our secret.”

he peeked through his fingers, his cheeks somehow even redder. “you’re enjoying this way too much.”

“maybe,” you admitted, standing up and offering him a hand. “come on, let’s get you some water before you embarrass yourself further.”

he took your hand, his grip surprisingly steady despite his inebriated state. “thanks… for not, like, running away or something. you’re cool, you know that?”

“yeah, yeah,” you said, rolling your eyes but smiling nonetheless.

as you led him toward the kitchen, you couldn’t help but think that maybe — just maybe — this ridiculously charming idiot was starting to grow on you.

⟡ ₊ . ༄

gojo wanted to be anywhere but here.

okay, scratch that — he wanted to be here, with you, but also wanted to dig a hole in his living room floor and yeet himself into it. his brain, muddled with alcohol, was doing its best to keep things together, but with you suddenly here — looking like that — his chances were rapidly dwindling.

he adjusted his arm around your waist, a loose but deliberate gesture that made his heart stutter. it was a casual hold, or at least he hoped it looked casual, but the warmth of your body pressed lightly against his side was sending his brain into overdrive.

“and this,” he said, gesturing grandly with his free hand to what was very clearly the kitchen, “is where the magic happens.”

“the kitchen?” you asked, raising an eyebrow, your lips quirked into a smile that had his knees dangerously close to giving out.

“obviously?!” he said, leaning into the theatrics to keep himself from spiraling. “you see that microwave? legendary. best instant ramen in town. and that fridge? it’s seen things. horrors, really. we don’t talk about it.”

you laughed, and he swore it was the best sound he’d ever heard.

“right, sure,” you said, shaking your head. “what about actual food? do you ever cook anything that’s not from a packet?”

he gasped, clutching his chest dramatically. “are you accusing me — me — of being a heathen who doesn’t know his way around a kitchen? i’ll have you know, i make a mean lassi.”

“oh, do you now?” you teased, clearly enjoying his antics.

“absolutely,” he said, grinning. “one day, i’ll prove it to you. you’ll be begging me to cook for you every day.”

“we’ll see,” you said, but there was a softness in your voice that made him wonder if you actually meant it.

his heart was racing now, the alcohol loosening his tongue in dangerous ways. he should probably stop talking. any second now.

“you know,” he said, his voice dropping slightly as he glanced down at you, “i can’t believe you came.”

“why wouldn’t i?” you asked, tilting your head to look at him, your expression curious but open.

he wanted to say because i thought you’d never want to be in the same space as me outside of class, but that felt too raw, too real. so instead, he shrugged, trying to play it off.

“i dunno,” he said, looking ahead. “you just… don’t seem like the house party type.”

“i’m not, usually,” you admitted. “but… i figured, why not? life’s too short to say no to everything.”

“huh,” he said, his voice softer now. “that’s… cool. you’re cool.”

“am i?” you asked, laughing lightly.

“so cool,” he said earnestly, and then immediately wanted to slap himself. shut up, satoru. shut. up.

but then you smiled at him, and he thought maybe he didn’t mind sounding like an idiot if it meant he got to see that look on your face.

as the two of you tried to navigate the packed living room, someone bumped into him, and instinctively, his grip on your waist tightened, pulling you closer. you didn’t pull away, and he was pretty sure his heart was about to explode.

he tried not to think about how you fit so perfectly against his side, or how your scent — something faintly floral and familiar — was making him dizzy. he definitely tried not to think about how easy it would be to lean down and —

nope nope nope. bad idea. terrible idea. the worst idea.

“you okay?” you asked, looking up at him with a hint of concern.

“y-yeah!” he said, his voice a little too high-pitched. he cleared his throat, forcing a grin. “totally fine. just, uh, making sure you don’t get trampled.”

“how chivalrous,” you said, the corner of your mouth twitching as if you were holding back a laugh.

“always,” he said, his grin widening despite himself.

but inside, he was panicking. this was too much. you were too close, too warm, too everything. he needed to get his shit together before he did something stupid, like —

confess to you.

kiss you.

pass out.

or, god forbid, all three.

oh shit.

the bass thudded in your chest, a constant pulse that seemed to sync with the frenetic energy of the house. people were dancing, shouting, laughing, and the chaos around you was almost comforting in its anonymity. that is until satoru — flushed, swaying slightly, and clearly far more drunk than you’d initially realized — gripped your arm like it was a lifeline.

“i need to tell you something,” he blurted, his words loud but barely cutting through the music.

you blinked at him, trying to read his expression in the flickering multicolored lights. “what?” you shouted back, leaning closer to hear him.

he leaned in too, his mouth near your ear. “i said, i need to tell you something!”

“okay! so tell me!” you yelled back, laughing at the absurdity of it all.

“i…” he trailed off, his face scrunching up in frustration as he tried to string his thoughts together. he took a deep breath and then, to your utter horror, yelled at the top of his lungs, “I LIKE YOU!”

you froze, sure you’d misheard him. the bass was too loud, the room too crowded, and his words had gotten lost somewhere in the noise.

“what?!” you shouted, your voice rising in disbelief.

he groaned, dragging a hand down his face, his cheeks flushed red— n ot just from the alcohol, you suspected. “I SAID —”

but even in his drunken state, he realized the futility of trying to out-shout the music. with a sound of pure exasperation, he grabbed your wrist, pulling you through the crowd. your protests fell on deaf ears as he led you to a slightly quieter corner, away from the worst of the noise.

“what are you doing, gojo?!” you hissed, but he didn’t answer.

instead, he pressed you gently against the wall, his palms flat against the surface on either side of your head, caging you in. his head dipped low, his nose brushing against yours, and your breath caught as his blue eyes, even hazy with alcohol, locked onto yours.

“i said,” he murmured, his voice lower now but no less intense, “i like you.”

your brain barely had time to register the words before he closed the distance between you, his lips crashing into yours in a kiss that was anything but gentle. it was desperate, clumsy, and so full of unspoken emotion that it stole the air from your lungs.

you gasped against him, your hands instinctively coming up to grip his shoulders. the solid warmth of him under your fingers was grounding, but the way his body pressed against yours, shielding you from the world, sent your heart into a frenzy.

his lips moved against yours with an urgency that bordered on possessive, and when he tilted his head slightly to deepen the kiss, a small sound escaped you — something between a gasp and a moan.

that was when he pulled back, just enough to press his forehead against yours, his breathing ragged.

“don’t… don’t pull away,” he whispered, and the vulnerability in his voice made your chest ache.

“gojo —”

“call me satoru,” he cut in, his eyes fluttering shut as if even saying the words was too much. “please.”

you opened your mouth to respond, but before you could, his body seemed to sway, his weight leaning more heavily against you.

“satoru, are you okay?” you asked, your hands sliding to his chest to steady him.

“huh?” he mumbled, his voice distant. then, with a slight slur, he muttered, “oh, no. no, no, no —”

and just like that, the man crumpled.

“satoru!” you yelped, barely managing to catch his ridiculously lanky frame before he hit the floor completely.

someone nearby shouted, “man down!” and the phrase seemed to echo through the room, followed by a ripple of concerned and amused voices.

“oh my god,” you muttered, crouching down beside him. his head lolled slightly, and his mouth was parted as he let out a faint snore.

he was out cold.

you pressed a hand to your face, your cheeks still burning from the kiss. the memory of his lips on yours was vivid enough to make your knees weak, but the reality of the situation — of this ridiculously tall, ridiculously dramatic man passing out at your feet — brought you crashing back down to earth.

“can someone help me with this idiot?” you called out, your voice tinged with equal parts exasperation and concern.

a couple of guys came over, one of them laughing as he said, “dude’s got no tolerance, huh?”

“none,” you muttered, sighing as you tried to get a grip on yourself — and satoru. his confession and the kiss replayed in your mind, and you knew you were in for a long night of trying to sort out your feelings.

for now, though, you had to deal with the immediate problem of hauling his ridiculously heavy frame to a couch. the emotional fallout could wait until tomorrow.

⟡ ₊ . ༄

the room had descended into a chaotic mess of unsolicited advice, mostly coming from half-drunk college students who thought they were experts on everything, including reviving a passed-out satoru.

“try shaking him harder!” someone shouted.

“just pour water on his face!” another chimed in.

“give him coffee. wait, do we even have coffee?”

you sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose. amidst all this nonsense, nanami stood off to the side, arms crossed, his expression screaming this is beneath me.

“he’s not dead. just let him sleep it off,” kento said flatly, his voice cutting through the chatter.

“oh, thanks for the revolutionary advice, nanami,” you snapped, the sarcasm lacing your words.

then there was geto, leaning against the wall with an air of detached amusement. “honestly, i knew this would happen. saw it coming a mile away,” he said, flipping his hair dramatically.

“yeah? well, maybe next time warn the rest of us,” you shot back before turning your attention back to satoru’s unconscious form.

you knelt beside him, sighing deeply. “alright, everyone back off. i know how to handle this.”

“what are you gonna do?” someone asked, curious.

“something tried and tested.” you raised your hand high and delivered a firm slap across satoru’s cheek.

the sound was loud. so loud, in fact, that the room collectively gasped.

satoru bolted upright, clutching his face as if you’d just smacked the soul out of him. “what the hell was that?!” he screamed, his voice loud enough to rival the bass music that was still pounding in the background.

“welcome back to the land of the living, drama queen,” you deadpanned, crossing your arms.

“did you just slap me?!” he exclaimed, his wide, watery eyes staring at you like you’d betrayed him.

“oh, i’m sorry, was that not enough? i can do it again,” you said, raising your hand threateningly.

“no, no! i’m good! fully awake!” he yelped, scooting back like a scared puppy.

“good. now drink this,” you said, handing him a bottle of water.

satoru grabbed it, but instead of drinking, he sniffed it suspiciously. “this isn’t vodka, right?”

“no, genius,” nanmi said, stepping forward and plucking the actual vodka bottle from the floor. “this is vodka, and you’re done with it.”

“oh, c’mon, nanaminnnn, don’t be such a killjooyyyy!” satoru whined, though his pout faltered when you shot him a glare.

“shut up and drink the water, satoru,” you snapped.

he obeyed, gulping it down dramatically before wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “ugh, water’s so boring.”

“you want excitement? i’ll slap you again,” you threatened, and a few people in the room snickered.

“you’re so mean,” satoru muttered, but then his gaze softened. “wait… you stayed.”

you blinked. “what?”

“you stayed,” he repeated, his voice quieter now. “even after… you know.”

“oh, you mean the part where you screamed out a love confession, kissed me like your life depended on it, and then passed out in front of half the student body?” you said, raising an eyebrow.

“don’t remind me,” he groaned, burying his face in his hands. “i wanna die. nanamin, can you just — i don’t know — throw me out a window or something?”

“tempting,” kento muttered.

“look, dork,” you said, kneeling back down in front of him. “you’re not getting out of this one. you did all that, and now you have to deal with the consequences.”

“oh god,” satoru mumbled, peeking at you through his fingers. “what are the consequences?”

you tilted your head, pretending to think. “well, for starters, you owe me samosas for the rest of the semester.”

“done,” he said immediately.

“and,” you added, leaning in slightly, “you have to stop being such a dramatic idiot.”

“that one’s harder,” he said, flashing you a sheepish grin. “but for you? i’ll try.”

“good.” you stood up, brushing off your knees. “now, get your act together. and maybe next time, don’t drink yourself into oblivion before confessing to someone.”

“wait, does that mean —” he started, his eyes lighting up.

“i didn’t say anything!” you cut him off, walking away as the room erupted into laughter at his bewildered expression.

“she likes me,” satoru whispered to himself, a goofy grin spreading across his face.

“oh, shut up, satoru,” nanami said, but even he couldn’t entirely hide his smirk.

⟡ ₊ . ༄

it was almost miraculous, really, how none of these college kids managed to piece together the details of what actually went down at gojo’s house party. you’d think with all the drunken chaos, someone would’ve remembered you storming in like a heroine, slapping satoru awake, and then, well, the incident. but no. all they seemed to retain was that the super cool, smoking-hot assistant professor had swooped in to save satoru from... something.

the specifics? conveniently erased from their collective memory, thanks to cheap vodka and loud bass.

but you? you weren’t so lucky. gojo’s confession — or whatever that messy string of drunken words and one life-altering kiss could be categorized as — played on a loop in your head. not that you wanted it to, but come on, how were you supposed to forget the feel of his lips against yours, the way he’d pressed you against the wall like he couldn’t get close enough? and then, the audacity of the man to crumple to the floor like a marionette whose strings were cut? you still couldn’t decide if you wanted to slap him again or — ugh, no, you weren’t finishing that thought.

“stop,” you muttered to yourself, rubbing your temples as you sat at your desk, the pile of papers you were supposed to grade staring back at you accusingly. “focus. you’re an adult, not a hormonal teenager.”

and yet, that little voice in your head — your grandma’s voice, no less — crooned in your mind, “what kind of boy is he? does he play cricket? is he an engineer?”

“no,” you grumbled under your breath, “he’s an overgrown man-child who flirts through samosas and makes me question my entire existence.”

the reality of it all was... you weren’t equipped for someone like gojo. back home, dating was simple. boring, but simple. you liked someone because they played cricket well or because their math grades could rival einstein’s. the bar was low, and your teenage self still barely scraped over it.

but satoru? he wasn’t just attractive in that this-is-gonna-get-me-into-trouble kind of way. no, he was ridiculously charming, stupidly funny, and utterly chaotic — so much so that he somehow managed to bulldoze his way past every defense you’d painstakingly built.

and that left you here, with a pile of grading untouched, your thoughts veering dangerously off-course.

what do i even do with him? you thought. he’s not even the type i should go for. he’s immature, irresponsible, a complete disaster of a human being…

... and yet, all you could picture was his stupidly lopsided grin when you’d handed back his essay. that grin that said, you gave me a B-, but i’m taking this as an A+ in your heart.

and then your mind went straight to climbing him. like a tree. a tall, stupid tree with an even stupider face.

“oh my god,” you muttered, dropping your head onto the desk. “get it together, girl.”

you groaned into the wood grain, mentally kicking yourself. this was getting out of hand. you needed to lock it in. focus. channel your inner no-nonsense professor and figure out how to deal with gojo without losing what little composure you had left.

and maybe — just maybe — figure out how the hell you were supposed to climb a man-child and maintain your dignity in the process.

⟡ ₊ . ༄

gojo had been avoiding you — not intentionally, of course. he would never do that on purpose. it was just… he was terrified.

gojo satoru, the guy who could ace a test he barely studied for, host the best parties on campus, and make a joke out of literally any situation, was absolutely crumbling under the weight of his own feelings. gojoism did not account for feelings like this. and yesterday? he’d completely fallen — literally and emotionally. now, there wasn’t a subreddit or thread in existence that could save him from the mess he’d created.

his shift was dragging, a mix of customers and yelling from his half-indian, half-japanese manager filling the air. his coworkers kept glancing at him like he was a stray dog caught in the rain, but he didn’t care. he was in the middle of wiping down tables when he caught sight of you through the window.

you. walking by. not even glancing toward the restaurant.

his heart sank. did you hate him now? was this how it was going to end?

without thinking, gojo bolted out the door, ignoring the string of colorful curses his manager hurled at him. “oi, boy! you’re paying for this if you don’t get your ass back here!”

he didn’t stop. the second he caught up to you, he practically tackled you from behind, arms wrapping around you so tightly you almost dropped your satchel.

“what the hell, gojo —”

“please don’t move!” he blurted, his face buried in your shoulder and neck, his lanky limbs curling around you like some desperate octopus. you froze, unsure whether to be annoyed, amused, or alarmed.

“are you serious right now?”

“yes! extremely!” his voice was muffled against the fabric of your shirt. “listen, i’m an idiot. the biggest idiot ever. i shouldn’t have kissed you like that while i was drunk. or passed out. or confessed. or all three. god, that was so stupid. i’m so stupid.”

you sighed, your heart racing at how tightly he held you. “satoru, what are you doing?”

“i’m fixing this. please, just — lemme say this. properly this time.” he tightened his hold even more, as if letting go wasn’t an option. “i like you. a lot. like, so much it’s actually pathetic. and i know i’m a dumbass most of the time, and i mess things up, but i promise i’m serious about you. so, like… if you don’t feel the same way, you can say no. just don’t hate me, okay? i can’t deal with you hating me.”

you felt his breath against your neck, his voice wavering just enough to make your chest ache.

“satoru…” you started, turning your head slightly to glance at him, his stupidly handsome face now fully pressed against you.

“say something,” he mumbled, the weight of his confession sinking deeper into the air.

you turned in his arms, making him loosen his grip just enough for you to face him. his blue eyes were wide and unsure, a rare sight from the usually cocky gojo satoru.

“you done?” you asked, quirking an eyebrow.

“uh… yeah?” he said, unsure.

without another word, you grabbed his collar, pulling him down to meet you as your lips pressed against his. the world seemed to fade away — his coworkers, the restaurant, the yelling manager. all of it dissolved as he melted into the kiss, his hands sliding down to hold your waist, pulling you impossibly closer.

when you finally broke apart, his lips parted in shock, his cheeks flushed. “wait, does this mean —”

“yes, you absolute idiot,” you huffed, shoving at his chest lightly, though you couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at your lips.

he grinned, wide and stupid. “i knew you couldn’t resist me.”

“oh, shut up before i change my mind.”

“never,” he said, leaning down to kiss you again, completely ignoring the cheers of his coworkers from the restaurant door.

⟡ ₊ . ༄

did you expect to be leaving japan with a full-grown manchild trailing behind you? absolutely not. but here you were. did you expect to cheer for said manchild when he finally got his degree? obviously. the man deserved it — barely, but he did.

you’d both agreed to keep things under wraps, citing the whole student-teacher dynamic as a big no-no. so, of course, when the graduation ceremony rolled around, satoru had to make things dramatic. he dropped to one knee — mid-stage — held his degree out like a trophy, and loudly declared, “this is my phd in loving you!”

“that’s not a phd, satoru,” you muttered, face buried in your hands as the crowd chuckled.

“close enough!” he beamed, earning a mix of applause and groans from his peers.

graduation break was spent in the usual push and pull — you pushing him away from his over-the-top antics, him pulling you right back into his orbit with that ridiculous grin. every time his pout got too exaggerated, you’d give him a quick kiss just to shut him up, which only made things worse because he’d cheer. cheer. in public. like a child who just got a gold star.

“you’re the worst,” you mumbled after one particularly dramatic cheer, covering your face as passersby laughed at his antics.

“and yet, here you are, willingly in my presence,” he shot back, smug as ever.

“god help me,” you groaned.

satoru, of course, wasn’t just sunshine and chaos with you — he had this annoying charm that endeared him to literally everyone. the aunties who came by the restaurant giggled like teenagers when he served them, and the little kids gathered around him like he was a walking anime character. “white-haired older brother” became his unofficial nickname, and satoru leaned into it hard, regaling them with wildly exaggerated tales of his life.

“and then, i fought off a gang of ninjas to save her,” he’d say, winking in your direction.

“satoru, stop lying to children!”

he’d just shrug, grinning wider. “it’s not lying if it’s entertaining.”

it was funny how he’d originally gotten the part-time job just to talk to you, but now he genuinely liked it. still, some habits died hard — he continued to bring you samosas daily, despite your protests.

“satoru, if you don’t stop, i’m going to develop a permanent aversion to these,” you warned, eyeing the familiar paper bag he held out to you.

“blasphemy!” he gasped, clutching the bag to his chest like you’d insulted his firstborn.

eventually, he started pestering you about meeting your parents.

“so, when can i meet them?” he asked one afternoon, grinning like he’d already been invited.

“never,” you deadpanned, whacking him on the chest for good measure.

unbeknownst to him, you’d already told your parents about him. they were eager to meet the man who’d apparently stolen your heart and managed to survive your stubbornness.

all in due time, though. for now, satoru could continue proudly showing off his “phd in loving you.” and maybe, just maybe, you were okay with letting him.

⟡ ₊ . ༄

[epilogue]

it felt almost surreal how gojo transitioned from serving at the restaurant to outright owning it. the previous manager had retired with teary eyes, handing the keys over to satoru with a heartfelt, “please, i beg you, don’t ruin this place. my wife and kids will haunt you if you do.”

gojo, in true fashion, had laughed, draping an arm around the man. “don’t worry! i’ll make this place legendary. maybe even name it after me.”

“over my dead body!” the manager had shot back.

and, of course, satoru didn’t miss the chance to ask you, “so, when’s it gonna be us? two kids, a little restaurant legacy — what do you say?”

you smacked him on the back of his head, rolling your eyes. “focus on not burning the place down first, romeo.”

under gojo’s ownership, the restaurant thrived — though not without his signature flair. he introduced a new “special offer,” one that quickly turned into a local superstition: if two people shared a plate of samosas, they’d fall in love, and their love life would prosper.

“just like us,” gojo would tease every chance he got, holding up a plate dramatically.

“you’re insufferable,” you’d reply, trying not to laugh.

but you couldn’t argue with results, especially after dragging this white-haired menace home to meet your parents. they’d absolutely adored him, of course, stuffing him with so much food you swore he left glowing.

“your mom’s cooking? divine. i’d marry you just for the biryani,” he joked, leaning back against the car seat as you drove to the airport.

“good to know your priorities,” you shot back, though your smile betrayed your words.

and as much as satoru joked about weddings and kids, the two of you agreed there was no rush. after all, between the restaurant, his endless antics, and your job, life was already chaotic enough. not that gojo made your work any easier — especially during exam season.

“paper checking is ruining us,” he’d complain dramatically, sprawled across the couch as you ignored him in favor of a particularly stubborn essay.

“us?” you raised an eyebrow, not looking up.

“yes, us,” he insisted, standing up to scoop you into his lap without warning.

“satoru!”

“what? if you’re gonna ignore me, at least let me help,” he said, plopping a spoonful of biryani in your mouth.

you glared at him, but he just grinned, eyes sparkling with mischief. and as much as you hated to admit it, moments like this were when you realized just how good life was.

chaotic? absolutely. ridiculous? always. but trading it for anything else? not a chance.

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paceprompting · 2 days ago

Text

Need a Ride?

written for ‘snowfall’ wc: 1000 # | steddie | rated: g | cw: non archive warnings apply | tags: alternate first meeting, pre-season four, feat. steve harrington's beemer

@steddieholidaydrabbles

He was sending his van right to the dump this time. He meant it.

Stupid engine he’d had to drop all his profits on for the third time crapping out right in the middle of the road. Leaving him to hoof it back to the gas station and hope that Wayne was home from his shift to get the call.

And of course, the snow season had to start today.

Head ducked against the wind, with only his battle vest and leather jacket against the bracing cold and snowflakes that stung his cheeks and nose where it wasn’t covered by his hair. He was just glad that there were streetlights so he wasn’t veering off into nowhere in the dark.

He could barely feel his fingers in his pockets by the time he made it to the station. He was still shivering, so he wasn’t quite at the point of hypothermia, but even dialing the numbers on the pay phone was a bit of a feat in itself.

Eddie put his back to the wind as the phone rang. And rang. Eventually, it rang out.

Wayne must have picked up a double shift. Not unusual, especially this time of year. Honestly, Eddie should have guessed that in the first place and called the plant instead of the trailer.

And he didn’t have enough change for another call. Guess he shouldn’t have stopped to buy that pack of cigarettes. That he’d already opened and smoked one from before his shitty van broke down.

“Fuck,” Eddie hissed, smacking the receiver into the hook.

He could trudge back to the van and settle in for the night. But without heat, he’d be just as well off trying to walk home in the wind and snow. And he wasn’t going to be getting sympathy with how he was dressed for spare change, much less did he have anything to deal to someone who would give him the time of day.

If he didn’t figure this out quick, he was going to get arrested for loitering.

Although…

“Munson?”

He perked up despite himself, recognizing the voice. Even if it wasn’t exactly someone he was elated to have run into at a pretty low point in his day.

Standing there under cover from the wind, the snow fell gently onto Steve Harrington. Of course it did. Settled on his hair and his jacket like powdered sugar on an overly-sweet dessert.

He wasn’t getting gas, pulled over and stood with the driver’s door open. One hand braced on the door and the other on the hood of his car, Steve stared curiously at Eddie. He was actually dressed for the weather, a puffy white and pale blue-striped monstrosity with fur around the hood.

Steve glanced at the rest of the gas station, noticing that his was the only car around.

“What are you doing here?”

Eddie stayed beside the payphone, in the wind and snow, but the farthest he could be from Steve. He’d dealt to him a few times, just weed, really, and only knew Steve by reputation. Last he’d heard, Steve had just dumped his two lackeys, Tommy and Carol and had slung ice cream at the Starcourt Mall until it burst into flames.

Why Harrington could care about him, Eddie had no idea.

“Van broke down,” he answered shortly, shoving his hands in his pockets even though the leather was nearly as cold as the wind. He gave a strained smile. “Stuck here.”

“Phone busted?”

“Out of money.” Eddie cocked his head, feeling bold. “Got fifty cents?”

It’d be enough for another call to the trailer and one to Wayne’s work for safety.

Steve raised both brows, and Eddie blanched. He and Steve were practically strangers, and he’d immediately hit Steve up for money. Even if he was known as the rich kid with parties every week because his parents were never home—Eddie was so far off his radar, he might as well have been gum under his shoe.

“I could give you a ride,” Steve said instead. “Forest Hills, right?”

A ride in the Steve Harrington’s Beemer. Sleek and maroon and drool-worthy.

The girls at school that would have literally slit his throat to be in Eddie’s place.

Eddie’s eyes nearly bugged out of his head, but he managed to find words and point back at the payphone with his thumb.

“I really just need to call my uncle. He’ll come get me.”

Steve leveled a gaze at him. “And you’ll spend an hour in the snow waiting. I’m not going to leave you out here to freeze.”

Eddie sucked his teeth, staring Steve down. He hated to give Steve the point of being right, but he was starting to lose feeling in his hands and his cheeks were stinging from the wind across his face.

He sighed, wetting his bottom lip. Or tried to, since the wet from his tongue only made his face freeze more.

“Fine,” he said, ducking his head as he trudged toward the Beemer. He didn’t dare stop to double-check with Steve, wincing as he pulled his hand from his pocket to open the door and slide inside.

The inside was immediately ten times warmer, blasting from the fans and Eddie nearly moaned. Until Steve’s door slammed closed and suddenly Eddie was inside Steve Harrington’s car. With Steve Harrington.

“You good, Munson?”

He was staring, he realized only after Steve spoke. If Steve wasn’t apprehensive about letting the school freak into his car, he was sure to be when Eddie acted as though he’d been raised far from civilization.

He forced a hard swallow. “Just surprised this isn’t all some trick. My type doesn’t exactly mesh with your type.”

Steve gave this chuckle, like an inside joke only he had any idea of.

“Right,” he said softly, and Eddie definitely felt as though he was way out of the loop on a new kind of Steve Harrington.

A kind he had a single car ride to figure out.

#steddie fanfiction #steddie fanfic #steddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #steve harrington #eddie munson #first meeting #alternate first meeting #steddie microfic

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huntfeld · 5 hours ago

Text

A Jealous Heart in The Neon Glow

Pairing: Jinx x Reader

Summary: In the neon-lit chaos of Zaun, Jinx grapples with her growing jealousy as the reader's bond with Ekko stirs possessive feelings she can no longer suppress.

———

The dim glow of Zaun's neon lights filtered into the small hideout, casting the room in a flickering array of pinks and blues. You sat cross-legged on the couch, a makeshift workbench cluttered with mechanical scraps sprawled out before you. Jinx was perched on the armrest, twirling a wrench in her fingers like a baton. Her signature manic grin was nowhere to be found, replaced instead by a peculiar tension that made the air feel heavier than usual.

"So," Jinx began, her voice lilting like a razor sliding across silk. "You and Ekko seem real chummy these days."

You froze mid-tweak on the contraption in your lap, the question catching you off guard. "Uh, yeah. I guess. We've been working together on that glider project for a while now."

Her eyes narrowed ever so slightly, the wrench stopping mid-spin. "Oh, glider project. Sounds riveting. Is he, like, your new bestie now or something?"

You set the tool down and glanced at her. The playful edge to her voice was thinly veiled, barely masking something rawer, sharper. You knew Jinx well enough to recognize it: jealousy. It clung to her words like oil to water, a dangerous undercurrent you couldn't ignore.

"Come on, Jinx," you said carefully. "You know it's not like that."

She leaned closer, her face now inches from yours. Her cerulean hair framed her features, the usual mischief in her eyes replaced with something more vulnerable—though she was trying hard to hide it behind a cocky smirk.

"Not like what, exactly?" she asked, her voice dropping to a low murmur. "'Cause from where I’m sitting, looks like you’re getting all buddy-buddy with him, leaving little ol’ me out in the cold."

Before you could respond, a knock at the door interrupted the moment. You glanced over, recognizing Ekko’s voice calling out from the other side. You stood, feeling Jinx’s eyes burning holes into your back as you opened the door.

"Hey," Ekko greeted with a grin, holding a toolbox. "Thought I’d swing by and drop these off for the project."

"Thanks," you said, stepping aside to let him in. The tension in the room shifted palpably as Jinx remained on the armrest, now glaring daggers at Ekko. She didn’t bother hiding her displeasure, the wrench in her hand tapping rhythmically against the leather.

"Hey, Jinx," Ekko said with an easy smile. "What’s up?"

"Oh, y'know," she replied, voice dripping with sarcasm. "Just watching my best friend here get all cozy with someone else. Super fun."

Ekko raised an eyebrow, his gaze darting between the two of you. "Uh, okay? Didn’t mean to intrude."

"You’re not," you said quickly, shooting Jinx a warning look. "Ignore her. She’s just being… Jinx."

Jinx scoffed, crossing her arms. "Yeah, ignore me. That’s what everyone does anyway, right?"

You sighed, turning back to Ekko. "So, about that glider prototype—"

Before you could finish your sentence, Jinx was suddenly in front of you. Her hands grabbed your collar, yanking you down just enough for her lips to crash against yours. The kiss was anything but delicate—it was desperate, raw, and filled with an intensity that made your knees weak. The world seemed to blur around you, the only thing grounding you being the warmth of her mouth and the tight grip she had on your shirt.

When she finally pulled back, her eyes locked with yours, burning with a mix of defiance and vulnerability. "There. Now you know," she said breathlessly. "You’re mine. Got it?"

You blinked, your heart pounding as you tried to process what had just happened. Unable to help yourself, you smirked and replied, "Yes, ma’am."

Ekko let out an awkward cough from behind you, clearly unsure of where to look.

"Uh, I… should probably go," he mumbled, quickly retreating to the door. "Catch you later."

The door closed, leaving you and Jinx alone in the electrified silence. You stared at her, still feeling the lingering heat of her kiss.

"Jinx," you started, your voice shaky, "what was that?"

She crossed her arms, her bravado faltering as she glanced away. "What do you think it was? I… I can’t stand watching you with him. It’s like… it’s like my chest is gonna explode or something. I hate it."

Your heart ached at the raw honesty in her words. You stepped closer, gently placing a hand on her arm. "Jinx, you don’t have to feel like that. There’s no one else. Just you."

Her eyes snapped back to yours, wide and searching. "You mean that?"

You nodded, your thumb brushing over her wrist. "Yeah. I care about you. A lot. More than anyone."

For a moment, she looked like she might cry, but then her signature grin slowly crept back onto her face. "Well, duh," she said, though her voice cracked slightly. "I mean, who wouldn’t fall for this?"

You laughed softly, pulling her into a hug. She stiffened at first, then melted into your embrace, her arms wrapping tightly around your waist. The faint smell of gunpowder and oil clung to her, mixing with something uniquely hers.

"You’re not getting rid of me now, y’know," she mumbled into your shoulder. "I’ll blow up anyone who tries to take you away."

You pulled back just enough to look her in the eyes, your hand brushing a strand of blue hair from her face. "I wouldn’t want it any other way."

The two of you stayed like that for a while, the neon glow painting your world in shades of pink and blue. For once, the chaos of Zaun felt far away, and all that mattered was the girl in your arms and the unspoken promise of what lay ahead.

———

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beef-brisket · 2 days ago

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Adam smiled softly: I... fu- fudge... I shouldn't be talking about with you, darling. You don't need to deal with my mistakes...

Adam felt tears well up. And he almost cried when his daughter leaned her head on his shoulder. She was still tried, but was happy to be near him again.

He rested a hand on her back and continued to rock. Looking around the room, it's never felt so foreign to him.

Adam: I just feel so... wrong. I shouldn't, though, should I? I've... been in that situation before and have never felt this way... so why now?

Avery said nothing. The only way Adam knew she was still away was because of her little hand patting his neck.

Lucifer: It's because I'm not a sinner. Or an angel.

Adam jumped and looked at Lucifer, who was standing in the doorway.

Avery: P-Papa...

Lucifer: Hey, sweetheart.

Adam watched as Lucifer came over and ran his fingers over her land, making her smile. He looked at Adam.

Lucifer: It's because we have history. I was your best friend. And I know very well what I was doing. You were partly right. I did it for a laugh... in the beginning. Lilith and I... we would speak about you sometimes, how funny it would be to get you j to our bed... how much you would fight it. I... I knew it was wrong. It was a sick thing to think about. And I won't make any excuses.

Adam was tense. He didn't want Avery here for this, but he was afraid to put her down, to feel open and vulnerable. He needed to make sure she was safe.

Lucifer: That night I saw you... those memories came back. The hurt of ten thousand years came back. And the horror and anger I feel when I see you lead the exterminations came back. I... wanted to punish you, I guess. But now that I know about the apple- or the lack of, I know now it wasn't your fault. Or your choice- I shouldn't have done it. You feel the way you do because deep down, you expected better of me.

Lucifer softly held Adam's free hand, and looked over his fingers.

Lucifer: I'm so, so sorry, Adam. I truly am. I know there's nothing I can do to even make you think of forgiving me. There's nothing I can do that'll even make up for what I did. And- you're welcome to leave early, I understand if you don't want to stay any longer. Or... or even see again. My pride doesn't allow me to have many regrets. But hurting you like that is definitely one of them.

They stood in silence for a moment. Lucifer soon looked back at Adam's hand. He couldn't bare to see the hurt in his golden eyes. Eyes that matched his daughters.

He just hopped he'd say something. Anything.

What about an au where Adam goes to Hell for night trips, wher ehe just parties and fucks. He has a disguise (it's just a slightly different looking helmet).

Lucifer joins his daughter and her friends at a bar, where he sees "Adam". He instantly knows it's him, but he's curious as to what he's doing.

So Lucifer spends hours flitting with him and buying him drinks to get him drunk. But Lucifer actually finds himself having a great time.

Long story short- they fuck, Adam doesn't let Lucifer know he's Adam. He goes back to Heaven and after a few months, he finds out he's pregnant.

Which is fucking weird cause he's definitely a dude, and he's very dead. But Lucifer's the Devil 🤷.

He basically has to play it off as him getting fat. It's working until the next meeting with Lucifer happens during his ninth month, and he's goes into labor right in front of Lucifer.

Lucifer: Why didn't you tell me your were fucking pregnant!?

Adam: Because you didn't know it was me!!

Lucifer: Yes I did! You have the same face!

Adam: ..... Oh..

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jupitermoontarot24 · 1 day ago

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👀 You vs Ex? 🍒

Hi everyone happy holidays!!

❄️ Im hosting tarotmas over on my patreon where im uploading everyday till christmas check it out! we are on day 2 ❄️

1-4

Pile 1

Hello hi pile one. welcome to your reading. okay I heard that you are a walking sex symbol. you are sex, even if you don't view yourself like this maybe you wouldn't use these words to describe yourself but maybe you should. it seems like that's what this person and everyone else are thinking. yeah I think it's the way your lips look, the shape, the words that you use to speak. even the things you say on social media, it's very sexy and alluring. it's like this is a guaranteed good time is what I heard lol. yes sex world it's like you're going to leave satisfied in some type of way how could you not? Okay I don't even think this reading was supposed to be this sexual but when I asked my guides for pictures they gave me all sex pictures so I guess that's what we're doing. Okay I don't think people know what position you play in the bedroom and that makes you even sexier. Like whats up?, are you a bottom, are you a dominatrix, are you a submissive or do you channel all of them? I feel like people believe that you channel all of those things so it's like whatever you need pile one has it. yeah that's why it's sex world, because you have everything, people see you as a triple quadruple threat walking. Okay not to be slut shaming but their ex was a hoe. and I mean that in the traditional sense of like they fished for people and because of that they had a lot of bodies or just they've been through a lot of people. it seems like you are more an upper echelon person. like you don't have to fish you just sit and wait, you are the trophy so it's like they're going to come to you regardless that you would never have to fish for that. you actually give your time and attention to one specific person that you like the most so it's a lot more meaningful than somebody who purposely tries to bring people in and go fishing for them. so it's like their ex probably brought in a lot of people that weren't good people or it was shallow connections because they went fishing for it and when you go fishing for something you really only can go based off of looks. you pick who you want whereas their EX was a lion so they kind of just ate whatever was near them and they chased it at that. yeah because the exe is coming up as the king of winds so they definitely were promiscuous. you could be aiming for a person people don't even know of. like does this person even exist people just don't know with you. so your relationships could be very private because people could think one thing and it's not that people don't know where you're aiming they might think that you're aiming in a Direction but they don't know what direction or what you're aiming at. well this person had to pointers so it's like they were aiming everywhere at the same time all the time. yeah it's nothing about being caught there's nothing special about being caught by their EX. checkout the rest on patreon where

IM DOING TAROTMAS 🎄 ON MY PATREON WHERE I UPLOAD EVERYDAY TILL CHRISTMAS

COME TRY ME OUT FOR 25 DAYS---> PRESS HERE ❄️

Pile 2 🍒

Okay so you and their ex could look really different. I don't know maybe this person doesn't have a type or you are just so beautiful that they want you regardless. but in this situation you are the main star and the ex is a feature like they're a background character. They're just there for moral support is what I heard LOL. Okay yeah the X is not even important it's just that they're there because in TV shows there's usually a X or there's background characters that's all they are. I'm not sure if that's how your person feels or if it's just true. Yeah so it's like the x is there but at the end of the day your person is focused on you. yes like you know that character that random policeman that might stop the main character in a high speed chase. The policeman might think they're important ? They are hot shot but nobody cares fr that's not a part of the plot at all. your person's the main character in their story but you're really the main character because you're the person that they're trying to get with that the audience has fell in love with. The hot girl. the character that already has an audience so it's like the main character is playing the co-star in your TV show because they're trying to get with you and they're trying to get you to pay attention to them. Like scott pilgram. Yes this person is trying to roll a dice they're trying to put their money in to see if they will get with you. You are so sexy you look like a little kitty cat, a doll like you are so sexy. but yeah you're the main character. the ex is a background character. It doesn't matter how hard, how good looking the ex is nothing they could do that would bring them any more attention than to you. your person what you do any day they can't stop looking at you they feel like you're their soulmate they love you everybody else is dead to them for the most part. if you ask your person they would say they don't have any exes they don't even matter if they do this person only think about you they future but you didn't care about no ex. check out the rest on patreon where

IM DOING TAROTMAS 🎄 ON MY PATREON WHERE I UPLOAD EVERYDAY TILL CHRISTMAS

COME TRY ME OUT FOR 25 DAYS---> PRESS HERE ❄️

Pile 3 🐝

Okay hiya.

so you're a lot more thoughtful than their ex. you can move slower you could just be more mindful in the things that you do, you say and how you paint a picture. Yeah even in the picture that you chose is an outline of a body on a skyline. so it's like you could leave clues you could be more mysterious with your seduction. it's like you have to find me so its a riddle, it's a maze, it's sexy it's slow and sensual. Oh I can tell your person is cute by the way they think about you. but it seems like you just appreciate Beauty in itself so it's not just them specifically that you like but it's all that are that type. your person is a man they just like beautiful woman/ men the person is a woman you like beautiful men/women. so your person likes feeling a part of that because they're like pile threes enjoys Beauty so I must be beautiful and they have good taste so I must be very beautiful. they must think highly of me if they chosen for me to be their Muse or something that they think about/ the consider beautiful. This person felt like their ex was the black cat in the relationship. Yeah your person could have been the golden retriever in this relationship and didn't want to be like maybe they're usually black cat. and that's not to say that you aren't the black cat because I feel like you are but maybe they just wanted it to be balanced. so if this is a woman they rather it be two black cats. but if your person was with a man maybe they felt like the roles were reversed. so even if this was a man that could have felt like their ex was too masculine and it made them feel like the black cat. take it how it resonates. checkout out the rest on patreon where

IM DOING TAROTMAS 🎄 ON MY PATREON WHERE I UPLOAD EVERYDAY TILL CHRISTMAS

COME TRY ME OUT FOR 25 DAYS---> PRESS HERE ❄️

Pile 4 💌

Okay so this ex could portray themselves as something that they're not. almost like a wolf in sheep's clothing is what I'm hearing. You hold your person hostage. it's like your person cannot Escape you they cannot get away from you. when they drink they think of you when they dream they think of you it's almost like that's a situation. this person could visit you on purpose so maybe they think about you on purpose, they get drunk just to think about you. they want to have fantasies about you. Okay so this person wants to give you all their money, they like to work hard to provide for you. they want to have a family with you, they want to start a new chapter a new life with you. They are the type that they would give you their whole paycheck and let you spend it on what you want to, I mean other than house stuff of course. like they will give you the rest they would pay the bills and give you what's left. they're so thankful of you and you could keep a really nice house, your house is clean, you have good Decor taste so it's like they wouldn't need anything so they would just give you money. they're really healthy with you as well as like you add life points to them. like they are very healthy. maybe you make this person want to be their best self even health-wise. sounds like whatever this person was doing before they left that in the past like even if they used to drink heavy stuff maybe now they just drink wine yeah they care about the health a lot more with you. this could be your twin flame. yes like you guys are the exact same person in different bodies that's how this person feels. it's like all their exes even their friends don't matter when it comes to you. like they rather build a whole lifestyle around you then to talk to anybody else. Okay so they're X was a hot girl and not a good way. this is somebody who would keep a rotation of people and act single even if they weren't. so like your person might have been their favorite person or they actually were in a committed relationship but either way this X always had another option laying around. they could have had a lot of options laying around because they pretended to be single even though they could have been actually planning to have a future with your person. checkout the rest on patreon where

IM DOING TAROTMAS 🎄 ON MY PATREON WHERE I UPLOAD EVERYDAY TILL CHRISTMAS

COME TRY ME OUT FOR 25 DAYS---> PRESS HERE ❄️

#daily tarot #love #pac #pick a card #pick a pile #soulmates #tarot #tarot reading #twin flame #pick a picture #holidays #christmas

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ahgasegotarmy116 · 2 days ago

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Still With You | A Jeon Jungkook Series | Chapter Ten

Summary: You decide to take a break from Jimin and Jungkook but things don't go according to plan when they both show up during your late night shift Pairing : Luna (reader) x Jungkook and Jimin, f2l love triangle Word Count: 4.3k~ Warnings: Explicit language and a heated discussion a/n: Barely edited per usual 😅 Start from the beginning

"Hey Luna someone's here to see you" I hear Grey yell from the front of the store leaving me picking up the cleaning supplies I had been using moments ago and bring it up front.

"Oh Jimin, hi! I forgot that you were coming tonight" I say putting everything away. "Yeah I just wanted to make sure to get this to you as soon as possible" he says with a shy smile handing me the pepper spray. I give him a shallow bow in thanks and place it in my back pocket for the time being.

"So, how was your day Noona?" he asks, hoping he can stay around a little longer. "It was okay, Grey came over and hung out for a little bit and then I took her to Bora for a snack before work" I say glancing over towards Grey for a second.

"Oh...you took her to Bora? That's cool" he says and I can see that he's a little upset at the mention of it. "Is everything okay?" I ask before continuing the conversation. "Yeah I was just thinking that maybe Bora could be our thing" he says shyly.

He's really not that confident and cool guy he made himself out to be from our first interaction which is honestly quite adorable but I decide not to mention it.

"Oh I'm sorry, I didn't even think about that! I just liked the place so much that I wanted to show her" I say apologetically. "It's okay don't worry about it, it was silly of me to think that" he says rubbing the back of his neck nervously. "No it wasn't, we can always go again soon if you'd like?" I say and I see his eyes light up at the offer.

"Are you asking me out on a date Noona?" he asks, jumping to conclusions and getting some of that playful energy back. "No it's not a date" I chuckle at him and roll my eyes. "We're still getting to know each other better remember" I say playfully pushing him.

"Yeah I know I just wanted to tease you" he says with mischievous smirk, "But when did you wanna go? I'm free tomorrow if you are!" he asks looking hopeful.

I see Grey waving at me and telling me to tell him no for some reason so I decide to trust her and go along with it. "I actually have some stuff I need to do tomorrow but I'll text you okay?" I say hoping he'll understand.

"Oh okay yeah that works too. Well I better get going then, I have an early morning class so I should probably get some sleep" he says before giving me a quick hug. I guess that's going to be a regular thing between us now and as much as I hate to admit it it gives me butterflies every time.

We say our goodbyes and he waves at Grey on his way out to which she responds with a nod of her head. Once he's gone and down the street and out of earshot I make my way over to the register where Grey is.

"So why did you want me to tell him no again?" I ask sitting on the stool next to her. "Don't you need time to figure things out with Jungkook before you start going on dates with Jimin?" she says turning towards me.

I take in her words and she has a point there, I know how Jungkook is and although it's only been a day that doesn't mean that I can push him to the side just because I don't know what I want. "Yeah you're probably right. I'll let Jimin know that I need some space too I guess" I say knowing that I really do need to start taking things more seriously.

~~~~~~

A week passes by and I find myself back at work daydreaming.

I've been trying to think of all of the different ways that things could go between Jungkook and I, but I'm just too scared to act. My brain has been full of 'What ifs' and I'm too afraid of what the consequences of those 'What ifs' might look like.

I hear the chime signaling a new customer coming in and I see Jungkook walking through the door. He stops in his tracks for a second, both of us just staring at each other before he takes a deep breath and walks over to me.

"I thought Grey was supposed to be working today" he mumbles and breaks eye contact with me. "She was, but something happened with Smokey so she asked if I could cover. He's fine though, just got into something and messed up her apartment" I let him know in case he might've been concerned.

"Oh, okay that's good" he responds and we stand there in silence for a bit. "How have you been?" I ask taking notice of the dark circles under his eyes and his disheveled look. "Could be better" he says continuing to mumble before clearing his throat and asking me the same question.

"I'm okay, I've been doing a lot of thinking lately and-" I start but get interrupted by the sound of yet another customer walking in but my eyes widen in horror seeing that it's Jimin.

"Hi Noona!" he greets coming in with a big smile. He copies what Jungkook had done just moments before, stoping in his tracks now taking in the sight of Jungkook and I at the register.

"Jungkook..." I start trailing off. "Is this the reason why you needed more time to think? Because you're dating someone else?" he says through gritted teeth starting to raise his voice. "Jungkook please we need to talk but we can't do this now" I whisper trying to hopefully encourage him to keep his voice down.

"No I think now would be a perfect time Luna" he says in a stern tone that I've never heard from him and storms outside, hovering by the entrance clearly waiting for me to follow.

"Sunghoon?" I call out hoping the kid isn't too far. "Yeah Noona?" he says peaking his head out from around the corner. "Can you watch the store for me? I'm gonna take my break a little early" I say keeping my eyes on Jungkook. "Sure, is everything okay?" he asks noticing my stiffened posture.

"Yeah everything is fine I just need to talk to Jungkook for a sec" I reassure him, taking my store vest off and placing it behind the counter. He does as he's told and walks behind the counter as I drag myself outside, dreading the impending doom that is this conversation.

Jungkook stands off to the side now, a cigarette held between his lips as he takes a drag and blows it out when he sees me leave the store.

"When did you start smoking?" I ask, surprised at his new habit. "Really?" he say harshly "That's what you decide to focus on? Luna cut the crap and tell me what's really going on. Are you dating him?" he says, face flushed from the emotions I can see that he's trying to hold back. "I'm not dating him" I answer plainly, not really knowing how to describe my relationship with him.

"So what, are you guys sleeping together?" he spits out bitterly. "What the fuck? Jungkook no! Why would you even think that?" I say surprised at his attitude. "I saw the way he was looking at you, like he had been caught doing something wrong when he saw me back there. Is he the reason why you wanted space? So you could mess around with him and see if you liked him before you decided to come back and settle for me?" he says starting to get angry.

"Jungkook what's gotten into you?" I ask concerned for him. "What's gotten into me? No, what's gotten into you? What happened to being honest with each other? What happened to trusting each other? Fuck Luna what happened to loving each other? You told me you love me and then you pull shit like this? Stringing me along and stressing me out thinking that I lost the most important person in my life because I let my feelings get mixed up. Making me think that it was my fault when all along all you were doing was playing with me because you just liked the attention" he says spewing out things that I never thought he could ever say, let alone think about anyone.

I catch a whiff of alcohol mixed with the cigarette smoke making me understand why he's acting like this. "Jungkook you're drunk" I say sternly trying to stay strong and keep my emotions in check. I don't want to break in front of him, not like this.

"Yeah so what? Trying to find an excuse to push me off just because you know what I'm saying is true. How could you be so selfish? Treating me like I'm just some little play thing that you can come back to when you've had your fun. Well guess what Luna I'm done! I'm not waiting around for you hoping that you'll some how love me the way that I love you" he scoffs bitterly pausing for a second " I guess I should say loved because I don't think I could ever love someone like you seeing your true colors now".

I hear the door open behind me and Jimin comes out to jump in and defuse the situation "I think that's enough" he says calmly coming to my side. "Last time I checked I wasn't talking to you" Jungkook says coming closer to him. "Jungkook no, stop" I say quickly blocking him from doing something stupid, "Please let's talk this through later when you're sober okay? I'll text you and we can meet up tomorrow" I say trying to bring his attention back over to me.

"I don't want to talk anymore. I saw what I needed to see. I'm done!" He says shrugging me off. "Be careful with her. She'll kick you to the curb too once she's bored" he warns Jimin before walking off with a slight sway in his step.

"You okay?" Jimin says turning his full attention to me once Jungkook has turned a corner. "Yeah I think so. I've gotta get back to work though so I'll see you later okay?" I say giving him a pained smile before walking back into the store.

"Did you want me to come pick you up?" he offers, walking in behind me. "No that's okay I should be fine. I haven't really seen or heard any sign of them in a while so I think they might've gotten bored" I say in reference to the stalker that I had been dealing with earlier this week.

"Are you sure? I don't have class tomorrow so I really don't mind" he tries one more time. "It's okay, I think it'll help me process things easier if I go alone" I say offering up an explanation for my refusal. He nods his head and sighs in defeat and departs soon after that.

"Are you okay?" Sunghoon asks me, clearly seeing how upset this all has made me. He's worked here since he was 16 and is in his second year of University now so we've known each other for a while and he's become somewhat of a little brother to me.

"Not really" I say trying to blink back the tears that I can feel forming. "You can go to the back and take a minute if you need to, I didn't hear much but I know he said some hurtful things to you" he says placing a hand on my shoulder as somewhat of a way to provide comfort. I nod my head and walk back into the break room to take a breather.

'Is what he said true? Was I just toying with him because someone else came along? What the fuck am I doing? What do I really want?' I question myself while trying to take deep breaths to calm down. I let a few tears fall before quickly swiping them away knowing that I really do need to collect myself and stay professional. After a minute or two I'm able to put on that customer service persona that I need to sport for the rest of the night and make my way back out.

"Thanks for that" I say placing my store vest back on. "It's fine don't mention it" he trades places with me but hovers by the counter clearly wanting to say something.

"You want to know what happened huh?" I question with a half smile. "Only if you're comfortable with telling me" I let out a deep breath and decide to tell him bits and pieces of the story throughout our very uneventful night.

"So let me get this straight, you're basically in a love triangle with Jungkook and that other Jimin guy?" I nod my head and wait to answer more of his questions. "But because you've been friends with Jungkook for so long you're afraid that if you date that you might have a messy breakup and you'll lose your best friend?" I nod my head again and I watch as he formulates a few more questions in his head.

"But based off of Jungkook's reaction tonight it seems like you might already be losing him right?" I nod my head but this time decide to elaborate on the subject.

"He seemed like he was really drunk though so I know he definitely meant some of the things he said but he kind of just jumped to conclusions based off of one look and ran with it. I need to talk to him when he's preferably sober so I can reason with him a bit more" I finish.

"What does Grey think about all of this?" he questions, curious to see another perspective. "She's been pushing me to make up my mind since day one so I know she's irritated with me. I have no doubt that Jungkook has been bothering her about me this past week so she's probably about to confront me about it too" I say trying to mentally preparing myself for that conversation.

"Have you made up your mind yet? Do you know who you want to be with?" he asks leaning in a bit more, now clearly invested in the whole story. "I thought I did, until Jungkook's outburst tonight. I want to be with him, but not if he's gonna be acting like this. I can't do this whole jealous overbearing boyfriend type of relationship. Like yes some jealousy is hot occasionally but I don't want to have my partner think I'm cheating on them or something based off a single glance" I run my hands through my hair and take a deep breath before continuing.

"This isn't even the first time he's acted like this towards me. He blew up on me the day after he told me he loved me because his hyungs were flirting with me and he couldn't take it" I say getting irritated just thinking about that day again.

"So that's why he hasn't been around lately. I was kind of wondering since he used to spend a lot of time around here, like almost everyday" he says now connecting the dots.

"Yeah and Jimin has been the polar opposite of Jungkook, caring, understanding, supportive, so it's been making this decision even more difficult. I know I've only known him for a while but we seem really compatible. We like the same movies, listen to the same music and we like the same food" I say listing off our similarities.

"But do you like him?" he says cutting off my list. "Of course I like him" I say surprised at his question thinking it had been made obvious. "No but do you think you could fall in love with him?" I take a second to ponder his question and I feel stuck, not really knowing the answer yet. "I mean I think so... I don't know? Don't you think it's a little too soon to be thinking like that?" I question.

"You don't have to be in love with him already but don't you think that's the point of a relationship? To eventually fall in love?" I take a second to contemplate his word and I feel like I'm getting even more confused. "Yeah I guess you're right" I say "But I still don't know what to do" I finish running my fingers through my hair for the nth time today.

"Maybe you should just focus on what you're going to say to Jungkook. I'm sure you guys will work things out, and even if you don't then there's your answer" he says trying to simplify the situation for me. "Yeah you're right..." I trail off and he is quickly pulled away by a customer who seems to be in a hurry.

I spend the rest of my shift going through the motions until I'm finally able to go home. Walking back I take that time to breathe and force myself to take a look at my life and what I want out of it.

Jungkook has been an amazing friend and I think he would be an incredible boyfriend, or at least I thought he might. Now I'm not so sure, which scares me. Was he just pretending this whole time to be someone that he's not and now I'm just now seeing his true colors? There has to be something else that's going on with him but I have no idea what it could be.

I take out my phone to send him a text to at least ask if he got home safe but it bounces back showing me that he's already blocked me. I'm not surprised at this point but I'm still a little hurt at the fact that he just wants to cut me off for this.

I agree what I did was fucked up and I should've talked it out with him instead of pushing him away so I guess I deserved it. I strengthen my resolve and decide to go to his house in the morning to talk things out. No doubt he'll have a hangover so he won't be going anywhere that early.

Opening the door to my apartment and being greeted by silence used to give me peace of mind but after that envelope showed up on my doorstep I've hated being faced with it every time I return.

My mind is racing with all that I'm planning to say to Jungkook so I decide to turn on the TV to drown out all the thoughts that are running circles around my head.

I set an alarm on my phone for eight so I can go to the store before Jungkook wakes up to get stuff that'll help with his hangover and right as I reach for the remote to press play on the Netflix show I've been planning to catch up on I'm interrupted by a sound outside my door. My heart goes into overdrive and I wait a few seconds before getting up to go check.

Making my way over to the door I'm greeted with, yet again, another red envelope, this time having been slipped under my door. They know that I'm home, they wanted me to know that they're still watching me.

I decide against opening the door this time and look through the peep hole instead to see if they're still in the hallway. The hallway looks empty but I know better than to open the door so with shaking hands I pick up the envelope and take it over to the couch.

I open it up and see that this time it's pictures of Jungkook, Jimin and I from tonight inside the store, me arguing outside with Jungkook as well as Jimin and I talking outside afterwards.

I try to visualize what our surroundings had looked when we were outside to see if I could remember if there had been anyone outside that could've been the one taking pictures of us but no matter how hard I try with just the shock of seeing Jungkook my whole attention had been solely on him.

Jungkook's face is still crossed out in all the pictures but this time written on the back of one of them are the words 'GOOD RIDDANCE!'. Whereas on the back of one of the pictures of Jimin and I are the words 'Who the fuck is this?!?!?' with his face circled a bunch of times.

Seems like no matter what guy I'm with this person doesn't like them. Makes me think that the sick fuck is not only obsessed but also in love with me. What the fuck did I ever do to deserve this? Why is all of this suddenly happening all at once? No matter what I do I can't seem to catch a fucking break.

I pick up my phone and call Grey, not wanting to bother Jimin this time and she luckily picks up on the fourth ring. "This better be good?" she lets out groggily, clearly upset that I had woken her up. "Stalker guy is back" I say simply and hear her bed creaking signaling some kind of movement on her end.

"What the fuck? What happened this time? Are you okay?" she says hoping to get some more information about what we're dealing with.

"Yeah I'm fine, surprisingly it didn't bother me as much as it did last time. I'm more pissed than anything. Like what about my life is so interesting? I'm just an average person working an average job and doing average things. Why would my life be remotely interesting?" I say exhausted with the added annoyance of this guy showing up again.

"In case you haven't noticed Luna you're kinda hot. Hell if you weren't my best friend I might even go for you" she teases. "Grey this isn't helping" I whine. "Okay okay I'll stop. What did the stalker guy do this time? Was it another envelope?" she questions. "Yeah but it was only pictures from tonight" I say preparing myself for having to tell her everything that happened.

"Did something happen tonight?" she questions and I can tell she knows there's something else going on. "Jungkook came by the store looking for you" I say and I hear her mumble a curse under her breath. "Luna I'm sorry, he's been coming around every once in a while to check up on you and see how you're doing. I didn't tell you because he's still my friend too you know so-"

"Grey it's fine, it doesn't bother me" I say cutting her off. "Okay good, I feel like I'm always put into an awkward position between the two of you so I never really know what to do. Plus he usually calls or texts me before coming" she explains further.

"Yeah well he was drunk so I'm not surprised he didn't let you know" I say rolling my eyes at the thought. "He was drunk? Did he say something?" she says and I can tell she's already wincing. "Boy definitely gave me a piece of his mind that's for sure" I say rubbing my temples. "You okay?" she asks hoping he didn't do too much damage.

"Yeah, he came in and then Jimin came in a few minutes later and he jumped to conclusions and assumed that we were dating and/or sleeping together. He basically called me an attention whore and that I was playing with his emotions so I know he's just hurt and trying to hurt me too in his drunken state. I know that wasn't him, or I hope it wasn't. I've seen so many drastic changes in his character lately that it's starting to scare me. It seems like he's changing into a different person and I'm not sure if that's the kind of person I want to be around, let alone date" I let out honestly.

"So what are you gonna do?" she asks, hoping to help me at least start to voice it all. "I guess I'm just gonna tell him how I feel, one of the last things he said to me though was that he was done and he didn't want to talk anymore so I'm not even sure if he'll talk to me even if I tried. I'm planning on going over to his place in the morning and bringing him stuff for his hangover so I guess we'll just have to wait and see if he let's me in or not".

"And if he doesn't let you in?" she questions. "Then I guess I'll have my answer" I say and lay down, grabbing one of the throw blankets I have and crawling under it. "I should probably let you go though since I woke you up. Thanks for answering" I say, thankful that I have someone like her to count on.

"Yeah no worries, let me know how things go tomorrow okay? Let's meet up afterwards and go to Bora, I know that'll probably cheer you up, plus I owe you one" she says nonchalantly.

"You just want to go to Bora again to see that guy huh?" I tease. "No! I- I just really like their macarons okay! It has nothing to do with him" she denies nervously. "Whatever you say" I say after laughing a bit at hearing how flustered she sounds.

"Goodnight Luna" she says with a monotone, "Goodnight Grey" I say and end the call, lock my phone and will myself to sleep, tossing and turning soon leading to a well earned night's rest.

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goreandbunnies · 3 days ago

Text

⛧☾༒︎ 𝔇𝔢𝔳𝔬𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫 ༒︎☽⛧

Sukuna x Reader, Toji x Reader

Summary ๋࣭ ⭑⚝"Almost six months after meeting him, I had finally managed to escape. At least that's what I thought, hidden in that alley, holding my breath and waiting for the search party to get further away from my spot. But this city was his, he had eyes everywhere. I needed to leave as far away as I could."

Warnings ๋࣭ ⭑⚝ Explicit language, sexual explicit scenes, sexual assault, drugs and alcohol, explicit violent scenes, gun violence, emotional and physical manipulation, dub-con, mentions of cults, blood and blood play, knife play.

Word count ๋࣭ ⭑⚝ 10.5k (in progress)

Dividers by @animatedglittergraphics-n-more & @cafekitsune

𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 1

Six months earlier 1.

The music was blasting through the club’s speakers as our group got inside, my friend Amy leading us all to the VIP booth she had reserved for us.

She had booked half of the fanciest, high end club in town to throw the most indecent bachelorette party humanity had ever witnessed. I didn’t know where to watch - the entire place was either shining or sparkling. Chrome, black and white all over the walls and floors, where the lights reflected on the mass of sweaty bodies dancing around us. The very long and exclusive waiting list to get in made the few people allowed in there feel privileged. Blessed.

“I can’t believe you managed to book that club, Amy,” another friend of ours gasped as she looked around as well.

“Ben is friends with the owner, when we said we wanted to plan both parties here, he offered to book it for us,” Amy replied, filled with pride. I smiled at her.

Amy had been my best friend since high school - she and I were polar opposites but somehow ended up inseparable. She was tiny, blonde, a social bee, always chatting with new people and making friends whereas I liked the quiet and the comfort of my inner circle.

I readjusted the pink “maid of honor” sash on my tight red dress and watched as Ben - the future groom - and his party arrived. They had decided to do a joint party to enjoy the lush club and I knew Amy wanted to keep an eye on Ben to make sure his cavemen friends wouldn’t hire a stripper for him.

“Hey there,” a voice said behind me, hands grazing my arms. I shivered and took a step away.

“Hey,” I gave Brad - Ben’s best friend and best man - a polite smile but took another step away from him just to be sure.

Brad and the rest of the party were in high school with us. We all grew up together. He used to bully me for being too tall, standing out in any girl group, only to hit on me constantly now that we were both adults. Except I had zero interest in the preppy looking guy in the slightest. Whenever he was around me, all I wanted was to run away.

“Looking good tonight, want me to get you something to drink?” He stepped forward to basically scream in my ear over the music. I placed a couple of fingers on his chest and kept him away.

“I’m not drinking anything you bring me,” I smiled again, this time struggling to stay polite.

“After all these years, really?” He laughed, as if it had been a fucking joke to him. “It was one time and you had so much fun,” he said as he sat heavily on the black cushioned seats.

“You fucking roofied me and I almost drowned in the pool at that frat party,” I spat at him angrily.

“Water under the bridge, baby. It’s in the past, you should move on,” he laid his arms out on the back of the seat as Ben and the rest of the guys sat next to him.

Sick of him ruining the night for me, I gave him the middle finger before heading for the VIP section of the bar where Amy was ordering shots for us girls. I dropped on a stool and sighed.

“Lemme guess, Brad?” Amy asked as she collected the shots and placed them on a tray. I nodded.

“I don’t know why Ben is still friends with that asshole,” she shook her blonde head, her curls bouncing around. “I mean everyone knows what he did and no one bats an eye cause his father is loaded,” she rolled her eyes before placing a shot in front of me and taking one for her.

Amy was the one who had driven me to the police station to press charges against Brad. She yelled at each and every officer until one sat down to take my statement. But one flick of Brad’s father's checkbook and the file disappeared into oblivion.

“As long as he doesn’t come near me, I can tolerate his presence,” I said before clinking my glass with hers and downing the shot in one gulp. Amy hummed in pleasure as she looked around before turning back to me.

“Don’t look but there’s a guy who’s totally checking you out over there,” she discreetly nodded over her shoulder. I chuckled.

“How can you tell, maybe he’s checking you out,” I made sure not to look as ordered but curiosity was getting the best of me.

“Cause of this,” she pointed at her plastic tiara with a veil, her short black dress and her “future bride” sash. She turned around again to peek and I followed her gaze to a gigantic, scary looking guy.

That man looked like every single red flag packed into a pile of muscles, bodyguard type, with a burning stare and a vertical scar on the side of his mouth. He seemed to be a couple of years older than us, early thirties, but he had nothing in common with the guys sitting a few feet away. He was violence incarnate and even from afar, standing still, arms crossed over his large chest, I could feel the anger coming off him in waves.

Amy was right, it wasn’t her he was staring at, but me. Quite openly. His stare lingered on me for a while, taking in the length of my bare legs up to the red dress I was wearing, the tattoos on my arms - my damn boobs and eventually, his eyes locked with mine. I raised an eyebrow before returning the favor and eyeing him down.

The black t-shirt he was wearing didn’t leave much room to imagination - his arms were the size of both my legs together and his chest seemed to have been molded in pure iron. When I looked at his lower body, I wasn’t surprised to find that his legs matched his arms - the thickest thighs known to man wrapped in tight black suit pants.

My eyes ran up to his broad shoulders, thick neck then up to his face, eyes dark partially hidden by slick dark hair falling in front of them. He sure did look scary, yet I couldn’t help but think he looked beautiful. The rage that vibrated off him was intoxicating.

Somehow, I got the feeling that he felt out of place, like a fish out of the water down here with the mass of bodies and loud music. The permanent frown on his face was pretty clear - he wasn’t happy to be here and he was not to be fucked with.

“Damn he looks scary,” Amy raised her eyebrows at me before a new song played, causing her to shriek like a banshee. “That’s my song! Let’s get on the dancefloor, where are the girls?”

She took my hand and dragged me away, not before I managed to give the stranger a small smile and for a second, I swore I saw the scarred corner of his lip rise.

Taglist ♥ @sweetlandspos @tojislittleprincesss @paradisestarfishh @unheavenlypacked

#sukuna x reader #sukuna x smut #jjk sukuna #toji x reader #sukuna fanfic #toji fanfic #jjk x you #jjk x reader #goreandbunnies #tw dark content #tw non con

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jayhyunglover · 3 days ago

Text

S for Studying or Sylus pt2.

Pt1 , Pt3

Which one was worse dying of hunger? or dying in the hands of a majestic dragon? I wonder

I stayed out of Sylus's sight as promised. Well tried because my growling stomach had other things in store for me.

"What should we do , Jerome?" I asked the small chameleon who just tilted his head curiously at me.

I had 2 choices , stay here and die of hunger or go find Sylus. My mind was screaming at me to stay there and starve but my stomach was screaming Sylusssss.

After a moment of contemplation, I slammed my notebook shut before getting up to go search for him.

It didn't take long until I found him laying on his side , his tail holding up a cup of wine.

Sylus's ear perked up at the sound of her light footsteps.

She's still here ?

"Didn't I say to stay out of my sight , human?" He drawled , tone almost menacing .

Damn! His voice is so smokey hot.

"Uh.." I approached him carefully before tripping over a rock that was sitting there.

"Fuck" I cursed lowly holding my feet.

Why everything seems to be against me today?

Such a clumsy thing. He thought looking down at her with an imperceptible smile on his face.

"Why haven't you left already?" He asked bringing his cup towards his lips to take a sip

"You didn't tell me to leave" I retorted still holding my bruised foot

"Oh how inconsiderate of me" he scoffed and in the blink of eyes he was in front of me tail curled around my frame

"I guess you do really have a death wish , no one is foolish enough to come here willingly unless.." his tail tightened around me making me gasp the sharp tip grazing my neck.

"You came here for a purpose" he trailed voice dropping dangerously lower

"I already told you I came here to learn" I let out an exasperated sigh struggling against his tail .

Is he deaf or amnesiac?

"Don't play games with me human" he scoffed again

"I am not playing gamed and could you get this away from my neck, it tickles" I giggled moving my neck away from the tip of his tail

Wait she's laughing? Just what kind of specimen was she? Didn't she know it could easily slit her throat in open?

"And pray tell why are you so intent on studying me?" He asked his voice a mixture of disbelief and wariness

"You're a dragon, the first one I ever seen or approached , of course I wanna study you" she exclaimed , looking way too happy and excited for someone with a sharp object pressed against her neck

He really thought she was a mad woman(which in fact wasn't totally false) who stumbled accidentally here and let her the choice to escape but here she was claiming wanting to study him.

Just what the heck was wrong with her ?

"Just leave" he said letting go of me making me land on the ground with a loud thud

Didn't I make myself clear?

"What? no , this is an once in life opportunity I can't possibly-"

"Death is also an once in life opportunity" he cut me off walking over where he was laying before I arrived "and being burned alive is not as appealing as you think"

I don't know why a deranged part of me actually wanted to test that out.

"So I guess you won't let me study you" I asked in a small voice ,shifting from one foot to another

Why does she looks lowkey cute? No what the hell is he thinking. She's an human and those creatures are never up to good.

He inhaled deeply seeming to ponder my words.

"Give me one valuable reason why I should let you stay here and study me"

I could give him a whole essay about why he should let me stay here

"I am acgood company and I can be a good-" I looked around the crypt "-cryptmate? I don't snore when I sleep I don't eat a lot and I am not a kleptomaniac" I smiled proudly

What is he even gonna do with that woman?

He let an exasperated sigh before reluctantly agreeing.

It's not like she's gonna back down. This stubborn little thing.

"As long as you don't touch me without my permission and keep your hand to yourself then I guess I can allow it"

Sylus mentally cursed himself for agreeing so easily but when he saw how her eyes lit up at his agreement he forgot about all his previous .

Just what the fuck did he get himself into?

"Really?" I asked eyes widening with a mixture of excitement and giddiness.

"Don't get too happy human I can still kill you whenever I want" he grumbled under his breath but loud enough for her to hear

"Whatever" I shrugged before making my way over him . pulling out her notebook to scribble down furiously

"The scales on your tail are rather cold and the tip tickles . can you inject venom with it?" She started questioning him ,jotting down on the small notebook in her hand . The chameleon in her hair looked as done as him with her.

"It doesn't contain any venom . I am not a scorpion" he retorted resting his head on one of his palm to observe her more closely. Taking in the way her eyebrows furrowed in concentration, the way she nibbles on her bottom lips and constantly adjusts her glasses

He was so entranced by the sight of her he almost missed the growling sound of her stomach.

"Seems like every part of you is Talkative huh?" he chuckled the sound making my heart do a backflip. Wait was that even possible?

"What kind of host would I be if I let my guest starve" He said before getting up and expanding his wings making my jaw drop.

They were majestic, shimmering black that seemed to capture the faint sun rays slipping through the creaks of rocks.

I was so mesmerized I almost found myself reaching out to touch him before withdrawing my hand

Remember Athena no touching.

"Don't try to escape" he warned before taking off

"I thought you didn't want me there" I shouted but he was already gone disappearing in the bright sky.

"Guess we are on our own now Jerome" I sighed before feeling the small reptile crawl in my hand.

Well at least we are still alive . For now

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

A/N : here's part 2 I know it's rather short . (I can't write long fic to save my life, I got too excited by one scene write it down and then publish)

Anyway I hope you will like it see u guys soon for pt3.

Taglist: @jinwoosbabyboo @ittybittyfanblog @chibichibi-mia @satansdaughter123 @sunsethw4 @mangooes

#love and deepspace zayne #love and deepspace x reader #love and deepspace #love and deepspsce Sylus #sylus fluff #sylus smut #Sylus angst #Sylus ff #love and deepspace ff #writing

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lunaandco · 2 days ago

Text

what it is, to be loved

pairing: pedri x ofc

summary: alba is invited to spend the holidays with her uni friends. the problem? they don't seem to consider her a friend, and make a bet with pedri: will he be able to make her fall in love with him in two weeks?

warnings: angst. it gets bad before it gets good. bi!ofc, mentions of bifobia and homofobia and explicit instances of both

masterlist

Dani wasn't sure why she had accepted to go to Laura's birthday trip. She had this need to mend their decaying relationship and in a fit of desperation she had thrown her clothes in a suitcase.

Laura seemed elated to hear that she was joining, but Dani was starting to doubt she was welcome. First of all, she was not told exactly where they were going. She knew it was Barcelona, where Laura and Sara's friends lived, but not much more.

After meeting the friends she had almost understood the secretism. One of them was a known face across the country, one of those guys everyone had heard of, and the owner of the house they were staying at.

But that explanation fell apart when they told her about the sleeping arrangements. Laura and Sara would share the bed in one room, like a very long sleepover. Dani was relegated to the couch, alone.

It wasn't the first time, since she had come out, that Laura and Sara had acted a little bit strange. They refused to believe Dani was truly in love with her girlfrend—now ex, but at the same time would not feel comfortable enough around her to change clothes or sleep.

Dani curled up on the couch. It was an old thing, probably older than Pedri's career and it was obvious. There was something hard pressing against her back and—

She heard footsteps, followed by the light tic-tic-tic of Nilo's walking. Pedri appeared by the door, simple pyjamas pants low on his hips and bare chest that Dani tried not to stare at. He seemed startled when he noticed her there.

"Is there anything wrong with the air mattress?"

"Huh?" she replied.

Pedri walked to the kitchen to get a glass of water.

"I put an air mattress in the room for you girls. Did something happen that you're here instead of there?

"I didn't know there was one," admitted Dani. There was no point in trying to make up a believable story. "Laura and Sara don't like sharing a room with me."

Nilo jumped on the couch and onto her lap, demanding some petting.

"Why, do you snore or something?"

Alba hesitated. Should she say the truth? What where the chances of Pedri agreeing with Sara and Laura, or even being more uncomfortable? Footballers did have reputations.

"Nah. I'm bisexual... and well, it just makes them uncomfortable to know I'm around, I guess."

"Ah."

Pedri was frowning. He seemed confused, like some information was clashing with the stuff he already knew.

"Do you... want to come to my bedroom?"

"Huh?"

"I mean... that couch is awful. You're going to need a a new back if you spend the night there."

"But..." there were many reason as to why sharing the room—and bed with Pedri was a bad idea. "I like football."

"So?" He laughed leaving on the door of the kitchen.

"Doesn't it make you uncomfortable, that I know who you are? That I love your playing?"

"If it did, you wouldn't be in my house," he replied. "Besides, you're not a crazy creepy fan."

"I could be," she retorted, crossing her arms. Pedri scoffed.

"Nah. They have this look in their eyes..." Dani snorted. "Look, everybody in this country knows who I am at this point. If that was a requirement to spend time with me, I would not hang out with anyone."

"Alright."

"Good!"

Dani picked up her things and followed Pedri upstairs, passing the room where his male friends were sleeping and the one where Sara and Laura were. Pedri's room was neat, the bed unmade on one side—the one Pedri was using.

Nilo jumped on the mattress, seemingly excited about the prospect of a sleepover.

Pedri opened his closet and grabbed an old thin t-shirt.

"You can pick any side of the bed, I don't care," he told her, putting on the shirt. "Whatever makes you more comfortable."

"Thank you," said Dani, choosing the unmade side of the bed. If Pedri had picked the other side earlier, it must be because he preferred it, even if he didn't say it.

Nilo whined excitedly, but Pedri sushed him, slipping on his side of the bed.

Dani closed her eyes, her back to Pedri. She did not feel unsafe at all, but there was this nagging voice in her head that told her this was not okay. Yes, Pedri had offered, but he was still a staright boy, sharing a bed with a bi girl. It was way more strange than a bi girl sharing a room with straight girls.

She felt Nilo slip under her arm, begging for cuddles and she smiled softly. The little fur ball was her favourite acquaintance in Barcelona.

It didn't take long for Pedri's breathing to grow steady, marking him as asleep. Dani relaxed a bit, knowing that she could not bother him as much anymore. Soon it was obvious why they said pets resemble their owners, because she felt an arm being thrown over her, and Pedri's chest pressing against her back.

Oh, well.

💙❤️

When Dani woke up, Pedri was already up, changing into day clothes. Nilo was also up, but he had chosen to remain under Dani's arm.

"Morning," she greeted, voice rough from sleep.

"Hey!" grinned Pedri.

Maybe it wasn't such a bad idea.

💙❤️

Laura was very interested in the development of the sleeping arrangements.

"You two shared a bed?" She was quite surprised, like the idea was so ridiculous it had to be a joke.

Pedri shrugged.

"Taht couch sucks," he explained taking a sip from his orange juice. "I would be a bad host if I left her there."

Juan and Adrián snickered at Pedri's comment, which made Dani flinch. She was ready for whatever Sara and Laura could throw her way, but she had just met those guys and felt like a little girl next to them.

"Well, at least Dani doesn't snore. You two are like old men."

Juan and Adrián complained and soon the topic was changed. However, Dani knew better than thinking it was forgotten.

"So... you're sleeping in Pedri's bed..." brought up Sara as she worked on her hairstyle. They were all going out for lunch, and she had changed it three time already.

"Yeah, I guess so."

Dani was sitting in the air mattress that was meant to be hers, trying to get her make up right. The eyeliner always fought her.

"And are you... you know, into him?" Asked Laura. "It would be normal, half the country is."

"Nah," refused Dani, deciding that the eyeliner was fine as it was. Even if she was, she had learned the lesson. Laura might be nice, but it was not a good idea to disclose her feelings. Last time, Laura had refused to believe she was actually into her girlfriend.

Speaking of, she had also not told them they had broken up.

"Why not? He's handsome..."

"So?"

"I don't know... if there is one guy that can help you get over your..."

Dani rolled her eyes. Of course Laura was still thinking like that.

"Girls?" There was a knock on the door and Adrián poked his head in. "We're leaving in 10."

💙❤️

Dani was the first one to come downstairs. Nilo welcomed her excitedly, a small bark and his tail waging.

"He really likes you," said Pedri as Dani squatted to pet the dog. "You're spoiling him now. He'll be sad when you leave."

Sara and Laura rushed down, the clacking of their heels and the sweet giggles.

Pedri drove them all to a secluded restaurant that, as he explained, was quite popular among the Barça players, since the owners never seemed to disclose anything with the press.

For the first half of the dinner, Dani limited herself to read the menu and listen to the group of friends. They had all known each other since childhood, and the anecdotes they shared from Tenerife were proof of it.

It made Dani feel like an intruder, seated next to Sara and Adrián, right in front of Pedri at the head of the table. Dani was born and rised in Tarragona, and had met the girls in University, after starting her second degree. She had already graduated in Classical Literature, and now was aiming for Catalan Filology. One of the subjects was in common with the students of Spanish Filology, Sara and Laura's degree.

The friends laughed after they ordered, some stupid anecdote of Juan and Sara sneaking out of class to go watch a movie and getting caught by their parents who were at the cinema to watch the same movie.

Dani fidgeted with the tablecloth, head lowered. She was used to wait for Laura and Sara to finish talking, for the topic to organically shift. But it was different now.

"Hey, Dani," Pedri snapped her put of her trance. "In Tarragona, did you have this sweet called..."

💙❤️

Stomachs full and eyes droopy, Dani did not even think twice about slipping into Pedri's bed. His body next to hers was warm and inviting, Nilo's soft, pleased whine filling her heart.

"Thank you," she said in the dark. "I had fun tonight."

💙❤️

The day on the beach was fun. Dani wore a blue bikini she had bought with Laura and Sara and a white cotton t-shirt, since she was a bit embarrassed of being half naked around guys she didn't know.

"C'mon, let's go to the water," prompted Laura, pulling at Juan's hand. Dani pulled off her t-shirt a little bit later, crossing her arms in front of her stomach. She followed the group to the water, gulping when Pedri turned to look at her and his breath caught on his throat.

Pedri stopped right on his tracks, eyes wandering through her body, his cheeks already turning pink before the sun could burn them.

"You look great in that shade of blue," he whispered when she passed him. Dani blushed.

💙❤️

Laura passed around a bottle of sunscreen, since tan lines could be sexy, but sunburns weren't. Dani put on her sunscreen on her own.

She would like to ask Laura and Sara for help, but was afraid they would get uncomfortable at the idea of touching her skin, and she was obviously too shy to ask any of the boys.

"Here, let me." Dani tensed when she felt Pedri's warm hand over her shoulder. She stuttered, but he was already squirting some of the sunscreen on his palm, and applying it gently to her back. "You're not made for the sun like us, huh?"

Being born and raised in Catalunya, Dani was no stranger to the sun and beach trips, but she had to admit she was not as prepared as his Canarian counterparts.

Pedri finished with her back, spreading the remaing product on her arms.

"There you go. Help me now?"

And that was how Dani found herself caressing the muscles of Pedri's back, a blush sitting high on her cheeks, and her eyes averted from Laura and Sara. The skin under her fingers was soft and warm, and she had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep herself grounded. One thing was sharing a bed with Pedri when they were fully clothed, another one was to touch all of his bare skin.

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"He's definetly into you," decided Laura, applying some teal nail polish on Dani. "The sunscreen thing? Sharing room? Yeah, he's flirting."

Dani scoffed. It was something that had occurred to her too, timidly, but she had rejected the idea immediately. Pedri was, quite literally on another league. He had the most beautiful women in the world vying for his attention, he wouldn't pay attention to a random student.

"He's just being kind. He's like that with you too."

"Yeah, but we're like, siblings," explained Sara. "It would be yucky."

Dani giggled at her disgusted expression. She didn't have that kind of long lasting friendships, so she decided to believe them.

"Still, he's not into me."

They could speak freely now, that Pedri had gone to train with the team, and the other boys were downstairs playing some video-game.

"I wouldn't be so sure," said Laura, a knowing glint in here eye. Dani averted her gaze.

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"God, I'm so fucking tired," groaned Pedri, dropping like a dead weight, almost on top of Dani. She turned off her phone, smiling endeared. Flick did not seem to care about holidays, Pedri looked like he would melt at the smallest caress.

Dani squirmed, trying to find a comfortable position. What she did not expect was for Pedri to rest his head on her chest, a low whine leaving his throat. She reached to tangle her fingers on his hair, which seemed to be the key to make him fall asleep.

💙❤️

Dani woke up to Pedri fully lying on top of her.

It became something normal, they would go to sleep fully aware that both of them—and Nilo, enjoyed the cuddling. Dani found herself blushing more often than not, specially as Pedri went back to sleeping shirtless.

💙❤️

The six of them plus an overexcited Nilo went for a hike. It was the second to last day in Barcelona, before the girls had to go back to Tarragona and they wanted to make the best out of it.

At some point, Pedri grabbed Dani's hand, as he led the group through the trail. She had flushed, but squeezed his fingers back, a shy smile threatening to curve her lips. It was nice, the fresh air, Nilo's happy strut, Pedri's warm body next to her. Sara and Laura were trailing behind, too far away to understand their chatter.

Dani could get used to this, she realised with a startle. Her heart beat a little faster than it ought.

Her past experiences with love were tough. All of Dani's past girlfriends had broken up with her sooner or later, citing there was either a hotter girl to date or simply they got bored. And men... well, they were men. Catching the attention of a footballer—and being attracted to him too... it made her dizzy, the feeling of being wanted, liked, too much for her to process.

Pedri giggles at something Juan said, and she could only stare in aw at the way his eyes crinkled. The stopped to admire the view from the top, but neither Pedri nor Dani could look away from each other.

Pedri dropped a kiss on her temple, stubble tickling her skin. It was almost meant to happen, the way they had gotten close to each other, by sharing a bed, between giggles and cuddles.

Dani thought she might have become closer to Pedri in two weeks than she ever was to Sara and Laura in a year.

The kiss did not take her by surprise. She melted under his lips, tilting her head up to give him better access. She ignored the giggles from her friends, or the whistles from the boys.

They ended the kiss, beaming at each other, all sweet and tender. For once, she felt excited about her love life.

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It all came crashing too soon. Pedri was in the shower, when the friend group surrounded her intrigued.

"So you are into him!" exclaimed Sara. excitedly. "I can't believe it, it worked!"

Dani buried her fingers on Nilo's fur. She did not like feeling as watched and observed as she did now.

"Yes, I can't believe he actually managed," smirked Laura. "He really bested us."

"What...?" Asked Dani.

"He didn't tell you after?" wondered Sara. "We made a bet with Pedri."

"That he wouldn't be able to pull a lesbian like you."

"But I'm not a lesbian." Dani clinged to the the only thing she knew with certainty. "You know that."

"You only dated women," retorted Sara.

"Because up until now I hadn't been into a man yet. Not because I'm a lesbian. I'm bisexual."

What did they mean, a bet? Dani's breath hitched. She was scared to ask for the truth of what had happened.

"Pedri is not into you," clarified Juan, who Dani hadn't talked to much for the duration of the holidays. "He's just very competitive, he can't resist a bet."

"Oh." Dani hugged Nilo. Well, that made sense. All the kindness the cuddles. He didn't actually want her. He just wanted the prize. Dani refused to ask what he had won. It would make her sick.

💙❤️

"Aren't you coming upstairs?" Dani looked up from her phone. She had taken the couch again, like in the first night here. It was supposed to be the last time she shared a bed with Pedri, but as a couple for the first time. Instead, she couldn't wait to leave Barcelona behind.

"The guys already told me, you don't have to keep going," she said, as Nilo jumped on her lap. The puppy was cute and sweet, she would miss him so much.

"Told you what?" Dani was too focused on Nilo to see his puzzled face.

"About the bet."

"What bet?" Pedri's breath turned shakey.

"The one you made with Sara and Laura. About..." It was that aspect, the one that revolved about defining her sexuality that bothered her to no end. She knew her friends were less than understanding about it, but going as far as to play with her feelings...

"Dani..."

"Do not even try," she snapped, half wondering if there were any trains left that would leave for Tarragona so late in the afternoon. "You've already done enough."

"Listen to me..."

"I dont want to." Dani crossed her arms, as Nilo whined. The puppy could feel the tension, even if he didn't understand why.

"Dani, please."

"Just one thing. Did you think I was that pathetic?" She asked.

"What? No! I never thought that!"

"Yeah, sure. So you're gonna tell me now there was no bet, right?" She scoffed.

Pedri took a deep breath, rubbing his hands all over his face.

"There was no bet. I mean, there was a bet, but I..." Pedri was stuttering, tripping over his words trying to explain the situation but he was unsuccessful.

Dani clicked her tongue.

"That's enough," she snapped. "Go to bed Pedri, or I'll walk away of this house right now."

"Dani—"

"No."

Pedri gave up. His shoulders slumped, his face contorted with frustration.

"I love you," he attempted, but Dani turned her face away from him in silence, until she could hear his steps retreating. Nilo jumped off her lap, and followed Pedri, but he stopped halfway and turned to Dani, confused as to why she wasn't going with them.

"Go, baby," she prompted the puppy. Nilo obeyed.

💙❤️

Once she was on the train back home, Dani blocked everyone involved with the trip in all social media accounts che could think of.

Once she was done, she felt a weight lift off her shoulders.

She was free and she would never gave to face Pedri again.

💙❤️

About that, she was wrong. After finishing the second year of her degree, Dani asked to be moved to the University of Barcelona to be sure she wouldn't have to share classes with Sara and Laura, who had dropped the façade and dedicated her more than a hateful stare.

Barcelona was a big city, and even if there were posters and ads of the big team everywhere, Dani soon found it very easy to just avert her eyes whenever she saw him.

She started working in a pet friendly cafeteria, serving warms cups of coffee and pastries to the locals. Her language skills came as a saving grace, since many times a day, she had to find awkward tourists that would refuse to learn a lick of Spanish or Catalan. The angle from her spot by the counter was always a bit funny, since she could see behind the guiris a graffiti on the other side of the street that said "tourists go home".

Dani liked her job. She always got to pet nice dogs and cats, and the ambiance was always calm.

A woman entered the establishment one day, a black dog in tow, who started wagging his tail immediately when he spotted Dani. It was a bit unusual, but not unheard of. Some dogs would get excited to see someone just because, but this one was acting as if he knew her.

"Nilo! Relax, boy."

Shit.

Dani looked at the woman, really looked at her. The similarity was undeniable, it was like staring at the same pair of eyes she was trying to forget. The woman also seemed to stop.

"Oh," she said. "Well, that's explains a lot, dear. You look prettier than in the pictures."

Nothing could have prepared Dani for the wave of grief that would overcome her.

"You... you're his... and you know..." a mournful smile crossed the woman's face.

"I reckon this is the worst way to meet, huh?"

"Not the best for sure."

Another client came in, and that spurned Dani back into action. She asked for Pedri's mother's order, and pointed at a free table where she could seat, while she took care of the drinks and attended the new costumers.

She went to Pedri's mother's table with her drink, wishing it had been Carles the one to attend her.

"Here you go," she muttered.

"Oh, dear. I'm so sorry to bother you, I didn't know..."

"It's okay." Dani could tell that the woman truly felt sorry. "I just... how do you know who I am?"

Nilo started pawing at Dani's leg, demanding attention.

"A mother always knows when her son isn't okay. He tells me everything, you know?"

"Ah."

"If you have time... maybe we could talk?"

In another time, Daninwould have said no. But the thought of knowing what Pedri thought of her... She had been to hurt to truly listen at the time, and now wanted to know. To get some kind of closure, maybe.

Dani spotted Carles and pulled him by the arm into the back room.

"What the hell!"

"Do you remember the time I covered for you for an entire week because your sister was in town?"

"Yes?"

"I need you to return the favour."

"Alright."

Dani returned to the table, taking off her apron and sitting in front of Pedri's mother. The closer she looked, the more the woman resembled her son.

"I'm sorry to bother, you..."

"It's okay, ma'am." Nilo jumped fully on her lap, demanding all the cuddles they had missed by being apart.

"Just call me Rosi, dear."

"Okay."

They spent a few minutes in silence, Dani petting Nilo under Rosi's gaze.

"He hurt you, didn't he? My boy."

Dani nodded slowly.

"He did. But not any more than my friends did."

"Yes, he told me about it." Rosi took a sip from her drink. "Many things changed after your trip. Suddenly my baby was moping all the time, and all of his friends from back home were gone."

"What?"

"They don't speak anymore. Whatever happened with you... Pedri chose your side."

Dani shook her head. That was... Her first instinct was to feel some kind of guilt. She was the reason a friendship that had lasted decades had broken up. But she schooled herself. If Sara and Laura had decided to be cruel to her, consequences were not Dani's fault.

But Pedri... he had also chosen to be cruel.

"I don't get it, he was the one that tricked me!" Dani snapped.

"I know," nodded Rosi. "He... Is it worth anything, if I tell you that he has regretted it ever since?" Dani remained silent. "At some point, it stopped being about a bet for him. Maybe you two could... talk again?"

"Yes, I'm sure that's a pretty sob story he's got there." Dani crossed her arms. "He hurt me. And worse, he hurt my pride. He made me feel pathetic." The bottled anger came back bubbling. "I'm sorry."

Dani stood up abruptly, and left the establishment in a rush. She was grateful that Rosi did not try to stop her, or call her back.

💙❤️

With time, Dani found new friends. Elena was a funny girl, in the same degree as her, that knew all the cool spots to hang out in the city. Dani had started their relationship by flirting, but it was soon obvious that Elena was tragically straight.

That way, Dani found herself in the bathroom of a very exclusive nightclub, that Elena had snook them in thanks to some friends form god knew where. Elena was in one of the cubicles, while Dani fixed dher lip gloss, when another girl walked in.

She was pretty, the kind of pretty one sees on TV. Long black hair, tanned skin and doe brown eyes. Her dress fitted perfectly, navy blue.

"I'm sorry," she said. "Do any of you have a hair tie? I think I need to get my hair out of my neck, it's so hot out there... but I forgot it at home."

"I don't have any," said Dani showing her her empty wrists. "Elena! Do you have any hair tie?"

"No!" replied Elena from the cubicle.

"Thank you so much anyway..."

"I know a hairstyle that doesn't need a tie though... If you let me I could do it?" offered Dani.

"Thank you so much..." the girl looked honestly relieved. "My boyfriend warned me it would be hot, but I didn't listen."

Dani filed that information away, making a point not to flirt with a taken girl, as she threaded through the girl's hair.

"I'm Dani."

"Ana."

"Nice to meet you." Dani finished the twisted bun. Ana looked fairly relieved, a bright smile on her lips. Elena came out of her cubicle, and soon all three girls were leaving the bathroom together. Ana wandered near them, until she spotted her boyfriend.

"There," she pointed with a soft smile. Dani followed her direction and froze on her spot. The boyfriend had a very recognisable face, the kind everyone in the country knew.

Gavi.

And next to him, like clockwork, Pedri.

In horror, Dani noticed how Pedri turned towards them, the eye contact inevitable. She saw his surprised expression, as he sprung to life, walking in their direction.

"Shit," she muttered, ignoring the confused glances from Elena and Ana. Dani took a step back, and soon she was slipping through the crowd, without a fixed plan, just needing to get out.

"Dani, please!"

Pedri's voice hadn't changed. Dani halted when she felt his fingers close around her arm.

"Just talk to me, alright? Just once. I need to explain it. Please..." Dani looked at his face, really looked. Pedri's eye shadows had become deeper and more pronounced in the year since she last saw him. His beard was unkempt and his lips chapped. He looked heartbroken, but it was too long ago for it be because of her.

"Why would I listen to you?"

"Because it is about you. Because it... because it is the truth of your heartbreak. And mine."

Dani looked around. She had found a secluded spot in the nightclub, few people surrounding them, but non of them paying attention.

"Alright. Go ahead, tell me something I don't know."

"Laura invited you purposely to the trip sp the bet could take place." Dani had already imagined that, but hearing it stung either way. "But I never accepted being part of the bet. When she proposed it, I just ignored her, didn't say I would do it, but also didn't say I wouldn't. When the time came and you told me you were bi... I reckoned the bet was something stupid and forgot about it... I didn't think Laura and Sara would think I was carrying on with it... I wanted to warn you of their intentions, but I didn't want you to hurt..."

Pedri spoke fast, as if he was worried she would not let him finish. A valid concern, since she hadn't the first time they had that conversation.

"I... I fell in love with you, Dani," confessed Pedri. "And I lost you..."

Dani gasped. If what Pedri was saying was true... half of that hurt was for nothing. She had been crying for nothing. And yet, it was hard to believe.

"How do I know you're speaking the truth?" She asked. "As far as I know, you lied once. How could I trust you again?"

Pedri grabbed her hand, and pressed it against his heart.

"Feel it. Would it beat so hard if I didn't love you? If I lied about what I felt for you?"

Dani gulped.

"Let me fix this, Dani," begged Pedri. "Please, let me show you how much I'm in love with you. Truly."

Dani looked at him, then at her head, pressed to his heart. And she took a decision.

💙❤️

A year later, Dani curled up in bed, her arm thrown over Nilo's body, while Pedri squirmed behind her as her big spoon, trying to find a comfortable position.

Dani smiled. Pedri hadn't been lying. It probably had been the biggest apology she had recieved from a man.

#pedri gonzález #pedri gonzalez x reader #pedri gonzalez #pedri x reader #pedri x oc #pedri #luna's one shots

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