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#I’m just stupid? and ???yeah. I’m just stupid
nereidprinc3ss · 3 days
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strange perfections
in which spencer reid and fem!reader meet by accident at a coffee shop. and then they keep meeting there. they've really got to stop meeting like this. (no, seriously. hotch is pissed.) / do you believe me now? bonus chapter!
fluff! warnings/tags: meet cute:) some dark humor, romantically inexperienced reader, spencer reid graduated from caltech, mit, and the derek morgan school of rizz a/n: this can absolutely be read as a standalone BUT it was written as a prologue for my series do you believe me now? to explain how spencer and r met! completely optional, if you're only here for the smut no worries! reading this bonus chapter might make the next chapter better though as it contains discussions of how they met:) anyway, I LOVE YOU!! let me know if you like this silly little random thing! kisses
The café door opens again. A blustery wind raises goosebumps on your arms and makes your bones ache again. You look up at the latest intruder—a hobbling elderly man in a newsboy cap and a knit red scarf. 
Stupid scarf, you think. 
Stupid door. 
Stupid wind. 
Your mug is empty, and the table you’re sitting at is sort of sticky and rickety, and there are so many papers in front of you that you wonder why the hell you thought it’d be a good idea to print the PDF out and annotate it that way instead of just doing it on your laptop like a normal person in the 21st century. Nothing is going right today. It’s the third café you’ve tried in the past few weeks as you attempt to find some place that feels homey, lucky, but this one just feels… inconvenient. 
You look at the stack of papers and sigh. 
Stupid Lord Byron. 
Stupid cafe. 
Usually, cafés are relatively quiet and peaceful—a refuge for the overworked to bask in the luxury of quiet jazz and the smell of dark roast as they continue to overwork themselves. This particular establishment, however, today hosts a group of teenagers—presumably playing hooky—who have commandeered a big booth in the back and keep walking right past your table because apparently they couldn’t have just ordered their drinks at once and they all have to do it separately and loudly. 
One of them has an incredibly irritating, gratingly pubescent laugh, and they think everything is hilarious. This whole situation is unbearable. 
Just as you’re gearing up to go, of course the fucking door opens again. This time, it’s accompanied by a particularly strong gust. 
Strong enough that Lord Byron doesn’t stand a chance. 
Your printed copy of his works blows off the table, at first page by painstakingly annotated page and then before you can even process it, all at once. 
Yeah. This is definitely not your lucky café. 
As you curse and go to stand up, you run into one of those dumb kids. His huge ceramic mug goes flying, careening against the edge of your table and completely splattering you and all your stuff in 16 liquid ounces of scalding espresso and milk. 
It’s silent for a second, save for a few drips from the puddle on your table to the floor, before the kid is apologizing profusely and turning red as a tomato. You can’t even respond—you look down at your ruined favorite sweater, and then around at the pages of Byron littered with color-coded sticky notes, overflowing with angry and purposeful red ink that you spent so much time on, scattered all over the floor. 
Eventually the boy catches on that you’re not going to forgive him and he skitters away, back to his friends, who whisper and giggle profusely. Only a few of them get up to start gathering the fallen pages with you. Several other patrons end up helping as well, so the sheets of paper are gathered and returned into your sticky hands fairly quickly. You thank each person without looking up as they hand you their respective stack. All you want is to get out of here. 
“Here—I’m really sorry about this,” someone says—a tenor-ish male voice, distinctly sympathetic as he holds out a rather larger stack of papers than anyone else had bothered to pick up. 
“I’ll live,” you sigh, straightening up. “But thank… you.”
The man standing in front of you is the kind of man who makes you want to untuck your hair from its usual spot behind your ears, and to stand up straighter, and to try and not stare even though you want his attention. He’s gloriously beautiful in a way that repels and attracts you. He’s the type of man who wouldn’t have given you the time of day in high school and probably wouldn’t now. Instantly you feel both insecure and reduced to a former version of you who would simper and fawn over boys who wanted nothing to do with her. You feel like going to the other side of the café and sitting in the best light and staring out the window poetically and hoping he’s looking at you. 
“On the one hand, I feel bad for being the person who opened the door and let the wind in. On the other… I feel compelled to say at least they’re not covered in coffee like the rest of your table is?”
You laugh vacantly, a second too late, positively coveting the awkward smile on his angular face. Then you make eye contact, and his eyes are so the opposite of angular—they’re huge and inviting and the warmest golden-brown you’ve ever seen, and they’re looking right back at you—and you have to look down. Fuck. You hate when you do that. 
Think of something normal to say!
“Yeah, true. Now I just have to reorder 264 pages. That… that don’t have page numbers.”
You shuffle through the papers. They are hopelessly scrambled. Your heart sinks just a bit.
“Um… I might actually be able to help with that, if you want?”
You frown, glancing up. What kind of sex trafficking ploy is this?
“That’s okay. Might be easier with just one person.”
He laughs—it’s similarly awkward, similarly endearing. 
“Do you mind letting me just… try? It’ll only take a minute.”
Only take a minute? Is this beautiful man deranged? Why are the hot ones always crazy?
But, perhaps because you’re a pushover who can’t stand up to people, much less beautiful people, much less beautiful men who are paying you undue attention, you find yourself giving in. You hold the stack out. 
“Sure. Give it your best shot. I’ll be impressed if you can even figure out what page one is.”
He’s already flipping through the papers with a drawn brow, walking away with them, and barely looking over his shoulder as he mutters, “I have Byron memorized. It shouldn’t be too difficult.”
You follow him, because hello, he has all your annotations. He’s definitely insane, you think, as he sits down at a table and starts rapidly sorting the sheets into separate piles. 
All you can do is stand awkwardly behind him as he stacks papers seemingly at random, barely glancing at them before deciding where they go. 
Maybe a minute, maybe a few go by, each of which have you progressively more flabbergasted, before he’s tapping the edges of a stack of paper on the table and standing, handing them to you with his lips pressed into a thin pleasant line. There’s almost a glow about him—like he couldn’t be more in his comfort zone. 
“There you go. Should be in order now.” You sport a frown bordering on a grimace as you take the stack and flip through it a bit. Sure enough, it seems that everything is in order. You keep looking between the man in front of you and the papers, incredulous as you wait for something to be in the wrong spot. 
“How did you do that?” 
His cheeks turn slightly pink. 
“I know Byron really well. I know how each passage ends and begins so I put them together like puzzle pieces.”
“How did you read that fast?”
“Uh. I’m a speed-reader?”
You scoff, taking another look through the stack. 
“I think that may be underselling it.” A thought occurs to you as you’re grazing over one of your longer annotations—full of expletives and strong opinions. “Oh, god. You didn’t… you didn’t read my notes?”
The man’s eyebrows raise as if he was waiting for you to mention that and he smiles like he doesn’t quite know how to break it to you gently. 
“Maybe a few,” he eventually decides, laughing under his breath. “I appreciated the commentary on his relationship with Augusta. It was… colorful.”
Heat rises in your cheeks as you mumble. 
“Yeah, I had a hard time appreciating the romantic poems. They’re less cute when there’s like a fifty percent chance he’s writing about his sister.”
“Half sister,” he corrects. You give him a look. 
“Does that make it better?”
“… no,” he realizes. “Not even a little bit.”
You laugh, relieved that his face looks as warm as yours feels. 
“Well… thank you, for the help,” you say after a silent second. 
“Of course. Sorry, again. I, um—I hope your day gets better?”
“Yeah, well. I feel like statistically it has to, right? It’s kind of a low bar.”
He smiles, a perfect, perfect smile, and gives you a little wave as he leaves. Without coffee. Checking the clock on the wall, you realize it’s approaching one in the afternoon. If he’d been here on his lunch break, he sacrificed it to organize your stupid Byron texts. You smile to yourself. 
He was totally in love with me. 
And he can’t prove me wrong because I’ll probably never see him again. 
All things considered—this coffee shop does seem pretty lucky. Maybe you’ll stick with it for a while. 
The next time you see the mysterious sexy speed reader is four days later—though you’ve been here every day since. He catches your eye right as he walks in, and his brows jump in pleasant recognition. You smile. He smiles back, before going up to the counter and ordering a coffee with a ludicrous amount of sugar in it. 
I should take note for when I make him his coffee in the mornings, you think to yourself, and then you snort at your own delusions, shaking your head at your book. Obviously you’re not that divorced from reality, but you’ll entertain the fantasy forever until one of you stops showing up to this café. 
What you’re absolutely not expecting is for him to walk up to your table with his to-go cup. 
“Hi,” he says. 
“Hi!”
Jesus. Tone it down, girl scout. 
He gestures to your stack of papers: now secured in a three ring binder. The cup says Spencer. 
Spencer. Spencer. 
It feels important. 
“I see you’ve upgraded.”
“Yes! Yes, I did,” you laugh self-consciously, still struggling to meet his eyes. “Thank you for the help the other day. I would still be sorting through all of this if it weren’t for that, so… yeah. Thanks.”
“Of course! I’m glad I could be of use.”
“Spence!” Someone calls from the cafe door. You both look up to see a stunning blonde beckoning him away. 
Ah. Naturally. The girlfriend who is one trillion times prettier than you. 
Spence. 
Reality sets in. 
“Coming!” He replies, with all the eager compliance of a child, before turning back to you. “Um… well… I’ll see you?”
It’s an awkward way to say goodbye to a stranger, but you suddenly don’t care enough to dwell. Instead you nod once, less enthusiastic now that you know he has a 10 waiting for him on the sidewalk. 
“I am a creature of habit.”
Another wave as he walks away. 
The two disappear from the doorway, but the perpetual breeze seems to carry a snatched bit of conversation your way. 
“Who was that?” 
“Uh… I don’t actually know.”
Yeah. Reality definitely sets in. 
Over the next few days, you break your café streak. Life is busy. There’s not always time to artfully ponder Romantic poetry and drink a six dollar coffee while waiting around for certain people to show up. 
Okay, so… maybe it has more to do with him than you’re letting on. But you’re not going to do that thing you do again, where you become limerently obsessed with a man you don’t know and who is way out of your league just because you can’t form an actual attachment to anyone to save your life. Besides, you remind yourself; we probably wouldn’t be compatible anyway. He’s probably a huge loser. Or secretly a douche. Or chews with his mouth open. Obviously nobody that attractive can also have a good personality. 
Not to mention he has a girlfriend. That should put you off, too.
But you hadn’t been lying when you’d proclaimed to be a creature of habit—you return to the café once you feel sufficiently detached from this Spencer character. 
He’s there. Of course he’s there. Why had you been expecting for him to not be there? It’s not like he was a figment of your imagination. 
This time he’s accompanied by a different blonde woman—a bespectacled blonde with a big floral headband and a patterned dress and a red cardigan and tights and heels that look self-injurious. She’s quite eye-catching; you want to keep looking at her, but you seem to draw her attention, too. Her big eyes widen minutely and briefly you wonder if you’re supposed to know her, but certainly you’d remember meeting a person like that. She doesn’t seem easily forgettable. Both of you look to Spencer at the same time, who’s looking between you with an almost panicked expression. 
“Oh! Th—” the woman whispers, cutting herself off when she realizes how loud she’s being in the otherwise silent establishment. “Ah! Okay, right. Never mind.”
 Spencer sighs. You want to laugh, but you’re baffled by the whole thing. So you go back to reading. 
Ten minutes later, they draw your attention once more. 
“Go, go ahead! It’s more problematic for you to be late than me. I’ll be like, thirty seconds tops.”
You don’t look up as Spencer leaves the café—but are you supposed to gather that these two eccentric individuals are coworkers? And what of the first blonde woman, who you’d presumed to be his girlfriend? Where is she?
While you’re wondering all of this, the new blonde teeters her way over to your table. 
“Hi!” She says pleasantly, waving a purple-tipped hand and wearing the biggest grin. 
“Uh… hi?”
“I’m Penelope. You’ve met my friend Spencer. He just left.”
“Oh—sort of,” you smile weakly, closing your book. “Not formally. I didn’t know his name.”
That’s a lie, but maybe feigning non-chalance will make it real. 
“Well, I just wanted to come over and say I love your bag. And your jewelry and your coat. I love your whole look. I bet you’re a really cool person.”
“Um—thank you!” You perk up, smiling genuinely now. The compliment warms you—you didn’t think your look was all that interesting today. “You too. I love your outfit.”
“Great! You’re—you’re great. This is good information. Um… just out of, like, sheer curiosity, could I get your name, age, and occupation? Oh—and your zodiac sign?”
What kind of convoluted sex trafficking ploy—
“Garcia!”
Spencer is at the doorway again, looking adorably miffed. 
Adorable? Get a grip. 
“Wh—I’m just making a new friend! Is friendship illegal, now?”
“This is the kind of friend-making that gets you a restraining order,” he urges. 
You look up at Penelope Garcia, enamored by their whole dynamic. They clearly care for each other, despite the squabbling. What kind of job do they have where they talk to each other like this?
“It’s fine,” you smile, introducing yourself to her.
“That is such a good name!” She says, and you’re getting the sense she’s kind of always this enthusiastic. “So now we know each other’s names—we should probably definitely be friends, right?”
“Yeah! Um, definitely!”
“Yes? Oh my god! I love this! Okay, um—we work at Quantico, so, we’re like, 10 minutes away—but this is better than the coffee shop that’s closest to the building, so we come here all the time. Usually it’s just us and five grouchy old men, which makes this is really exciting.”
“Quantico… that’s the FBI academy, right?”
“Other stuff, too,” she nods, still smiley. 
Oh! Cool. So they’re FBI agents. 
So that’s cool. 
You’re cool with that. 
Her phone starts ringing—she locks eyes with Spencer. 
“Hotch?”
“Ooh, we are in trouble,” Penelope sing-songs, leaning down to write her number on your notebook without asking. Not that you mind, of course. She adds a little heart and a smiley face next to her name before capping your pen and toddling away. “Bye, new friend!” She calls over her shoulder, waving goodbye with just her fingers. 
“Bye,” you manage, though it’s probably too quiet. 
Spencer flattens his mouth into an approximation of a smile and waves again. 
You accidentally find yourself mirroring his goodbye, facial expression and all. Fuck. You hope he doesn’t notice. You hope he doesn’t read into it. 
Nah. Boys are dumb. 
You text Penelope later that afternoon—a simple greeting so that she can save your number—and then you forget about it. 
It’s not until five days go by without sign of any of them—the two blondes, Spencer, this mysterious and foreboding Hotch figure—that you start to seriously question your sanity. Did they drop off the face of the planet, or what?
But of course, just as you’re sitting at your usual table, Spencer walks in. Alone. 
He sees you immediately, but instead of the wave you’d come to expect, he immediately flushes, looks down at his shoes and hurries into the small lunch-rush line. 
Weird.
You corner him at the coffee bar, where he’s adding more sugar to his coffee. How are his teeth so nice if he does this to himself every single day?
“Hey,” you say, affecting casual confidence as you bus your empty mug. “… Spencer, right?”
It’s comical how you’re pretending you haven’t turned that name over and looked at it from every angle hundreds of times since the first time you heard it. 
He nods, only glancing up at you as he stirs. To your surprise, he knows your name, too. When you give him an odd look, he smiles almost apologetically, finally looking at your face for longer than half a second. 
“I heard you introducing yourself to Penelope. Sorry if that’s…”
“No, no! Is she around, today? I texted her last week, but she never responded...”
“Today is operating system update day, so I don’t even really have a way of knowing if she’s alive in her office.” It’s funny to him, but you just smile, baffled. He notices your silence and catches on, scrambling to explain himself. “She’s our tech analyst. There are 243 computers in our building and she has to update them all remotely, which requires getting every agent to agree to not touch their computer at the same time for an hour or so.”
“Oh… does the FBI not have, like… an IT guy, or something?”
He laughs again—the way his eyes crinkle when he does it makes you a little breathless. 
“You should say that to her. I think you would become her favorite person.”
It’s hard not to smile when he’s smiling because of you—however indirectly that may be. Quickly you realize you’ve both been standing in front of the coffee bar for too long. 
“Alright, well… tell her good luck, for me?”
“I would, but I’ve been kicked out for an hour while she does the updates.”
Your brow furrows and you laugh. 
“From the whole building? You just can’t keep your hands off your computer for an hour?”
“Not if I want to do my job, no. And I am kind of obsessive about my job. I’ve been the reason she had to start the whole process over again before and I’d rather not be that person again.”
You say it before you can think too hard. 
“Well, if you have an hour to kill… there’s an open seat at my table? No pressure, obviously.”
And that was the first of thousands of hours you would come to spend with Spencer Reid. 
After that, it sort of becomes a regular thing. He comes almost every day—except for occasional week or so long stretches, which you have discovered are a part of his absolutely fucking insane job—and sits with you, sometimes with Penelope, once with the other blonde, JJ, who you’ve since deduced is not his girlfriend, most often alone. Usually he can’t spare more than ten minutes, but he begins pushing it, little by little, until thirty minutes go by and you think surely his boss (the great and all-powerful Hotchner) must be beginning to notice. 
One day, during your usual lunchtime rendezvous, his phone rings. He talks right on through it, like it’s not happening.
It ceases. And then it starts again. 
Your head drops to your shoulder, something like pity or regret softening your features. He catches your eye and melts slightly, mid-sentence—like he knows you’re about to tell him to be responsible. 
“Do you think you should…”
His hands drop from where they’d been enthusiastically positioned mid-air. 
“They’ll be fine if I’m late from lunch one time. I’m usually more punctual than any of them.”
You roll your lip between your teeth—it’s not that you want to tell him to go; in fact, those delusions you’ve been harboring about your future life together are only getting worse with each inexplicable minute he entertains your company. 
But his job is important. 
“What if you have a case?”
“Then I would have gotten more calls from more people by now.”
Your head tips back as you laugh lightly at his unwavering insistence.   
“I’m flattered that you so enjoy my company that much. But I can’t with good conscience keep taking up your work hours like this.”
As the laughter fades, he just… watches you, lips slightly parted, eyes intense but not entirely present. 
“You’re probably right,” he finally breathes. “Maybe… you should start taking up my other hours, instead?”
Spencer Reid, you unexpected charmer. 
You balk.
“Like… we would hang out? At a different time of day? Not here?”
“Those are the basic premises, yes,” he chuckles, nodding affably. “I’ve never actually seen you anywhere else. For all I know you could be a ghost eternally tethered to this building.”
“Where would this hanging out take place?”
Fuck, you’re totally being weird. His brow knits. 
“I don’t know. Where else do people hang out?”
He’s not genuinely asking you, he’s gently turning you in the right direction. You charge forward blindly. 
“Restaurants.”
There’s that pretty smile of his again, the one that makes all the thoughts drain from your head like cold bathwater. Though, there’s a sort of mischievous edge to it now that you haven't seen before.
“That’s certainly an option. If I asked you to hang out with me at a restaurant... would you say yes?”
You look down. God, your face feels warm. 
“Would you be asking me out on a date? In this hypothetical scenario that we’ve constructed, I mean.”
Spencer seems to think about it for a moment, which fills you with unexpected panic. When you look back up anxiously, he has the same smile on his face, but his eyes are a little softer now. 
“I would.” 
More panic sets in—just a bit. But you don’t let what is undoubtedly a tidal wave of anxiety break through the emotional guard-dam. Keep it together. This is a good thing. This is what you wanted. 
Unfortunately, you are perhaps more transparent than you’d realized. Spencer begins to look slightly worried, leaning forward in his chair. 
“You don’t have to say yes. I know we don’t know each other very well, I just—”
“No!” You find yourself assuring him, though you curse yourself because you kind of want to know what he was going to say. “I would say yes. I’ve just, um—god,” you laugh gustily, self-consciously. “Sorry I’m being so weird. I’m out of my depth. Nobody’s asked me on a date before. I don’t really know the etiquette.”
Spencer chuckles. 
“You’re doing great. Don’t worry about it.”
Not, what?
Not, you’ve never been on a date before?
Not, that’s crazy, or that’s weird, or how have you gone your whole life without being asked out?
With the implication being, you’re odd. Different. Maybe not in a good way. 
He says none of that. 
“But I should probably actually ask you, huh?” His cheeks turn pink as his laughter is redirected inwards. 
“Sounds like a good first step.”
Spencer is still smiling as he says your name and it sounds so good from his mouth. It makes you sound so real. 
“Will you go on a date with me?”
Butterflies in your stomach doesn't begin to brush what you're experiencing—your entire abdominal cavity is like a Monarch sanctuary.
“I’d love to.”
He seems genuinely relieved as he beams, slumping back in his chair. 
“Oh, thank god. I was so nervous you’d say no. I never do that. Thank you for not saying no. Not that you couldn’t have said no—it would have been completely fine and obviously within your rights to—”
His phone rings again. Both of you are relieved that he was interrupted—but admittedly you thought his rambling was super cute. 
“I should—”
“You definitely need to go.”
“Yeah,” he agrees with a still-breathless smile. “Um—what’s your number?”
You look around fruitlessly for pen and paper. 
“I don’t—”
“Just tell me. I’ll remember.”
He’s so weird. 
A breeze hits your skin as he opens the door. You’re already writing your wedding vows in the back of your mind as you watch him go. 
1K notes · View notes
svuguru · 2 days
Note
toji rewards his stepdaughter for doing well on her math competition.
would do anything for that man to call me a smart girl, i'd fold.
also we need more stapdad toji🥹🥹🥹🥹
Tags: STEPCEST!!!!! ANTIS AND MINORS DO NOTTTT INTERACT PLEASE!!!!! I’m not responsible for the content you do or do not consume!!!!!!! Thanks x
It was the way you excitedly ran up to him with a wide grin plastered on your face, telling him all about how you did so good on your little math competition, that really got his pants tight. Not only that, but oh he’s so proud of his sweet girl for doing so well. What better way to reward her than get her dumb on his cock?
“Such a smart girl, yeah?” Toji grunts, “for so much knowledge in this pretty little head of yours, hm,” he’s thrusting his fat cock into your little cunt as he says this, his voice deep and low as he whispers this in your ear.
“Uh-huh!” You gasp, digging your nails into Toji’s broad, sweaty back to stay somewhat stable. “‘M such a smart girl, daddy,” your eyes roll to the back of your head, his head teasing that soft spot inside of you.
“‘M so proud,” Toji leans down to press a kiss to your forehead, a lazy smile tugging at his scarred lips. “Can’t believe my pretty girl is so smart!” The words he’s speaking has you squeezing him tight, your juices coating his dick. “Worked so hard, didn’t you?”
You mindlessly nod, so dumb on his cock even as he praises you for being so smart. “Mhm, really smart, promise…!” Your stepdad is just so generous… so caring of his little girl, maybe a bit more than he should be.
“I know, I know,” his breath is warm against your skin, his sweat dripping down his forehead. The room is humid and it reeks of sweat but you don’t even acknowledge it, way too stupid on your step daddy’s thick dick.
You can feel him so deep in you, you can feel your release building up and tying knots in your tummy.
“S’deep, daddy… so big!” You whine which only makes Toji laugh breathily.
“Yeah?” He pants, “you can take it, you’re a smart girl,” to Toji, you look so adorable under him, your cheeks flushed and your lashes wet, your lips sore and plump as your jaw goes slack.
“Feels weird, daddy,” you mumble, “think ‘m gonna cum…!” Toji knows you in and out (literally), so he doesn’t put a halt to his hips, only getting a bit more rough, but not too aggressive so as to not hurt his precious smart girl.
“Think so?” Toji plants a kiss to your cheek and exhales. “Cum on daddy’s cock, baby, my clever princess deserves it.” The way he keeps praising you plays a big role in the way you come undone, Toji’s thrusts not stopping or going softer, fucking you through it as stars paint your vision.
A hiccup falls from your lips, tears falling from your lash line though Toji’s big finger wipes them away, occasionally kissing them away too.
“There we go, good girl…” Toji’s eyes pat intense attention to your facial expressions, your eyes rolling to the back of your head, your hair a mess and saliva coating your lips. “Did so well for me, sweetheart!” He says proudly. “You think you can do something for daddy? Can daddy finish inside, hmm? Yeah?” So tuckered out, you nod again, murmuring a sweet, “uh-huh,” “Aww, such a sweet girl…”
462 notes · View notes
mediumgayitalian · 2 days
Text
“You ready, Lou?”
“Duh.”
“Cecil? You’ve got full faith in your cabin?”
“Yep.”
“What about you, Will? Were your threats successful?”
“My bribes went wonderfully, thank you.”
“Then I think we’re a go.”
“Gods, this is going to be great.”
———
Knockknockknock.
Nico locks in on his game. He is so, so close to finally making it through this stupid quest, he can feel it, and if he doesn’t beat The Imprisoned before Percy he’s going to set the camp on fire.
Knockknockknock.
“Just — hold on a second!” He spams B, cursing loudly to himself, ignoring the twinge in his lower back from holding this position for so long. “Fuck, fuck, come on.” He clenches his teeth, knuckles white against the Wii remote, until finally — the boss falls. He cheers.
Fuck yes. Take that, Percy.
Tossing the remote on his bed, he jogs over to the door, sliding open the three bolts and unlocking the chains. On his porch is a blur of movement, hair frizzy and pulled-on, shirt rumbled.
“Oh, hey, Annabeth.”
She barely acknowledges him, focusing intently on pacing back and forth on the stone porch at the speed of light. He settles against the door frame, stretching out his spine, watching her mutter to herself.
“Chiron is leaving,” she says.
Nico raises an amused eyebrow. “I am aware.”
“With Mr. D. To some conference.”
“I heard.”
“He’s gone until early tomorrow evening.”
“Uh-huh.”
“He left me in charge.”
“Probably wise.”
“I need an allegiance, Nico.”
“Slow down and tell me what you mean, first.”
She sighs, coming to a stop in front of him. Her fingers still drum across her biceps, and her eyes dart around, evaluating. Her teeth dig into her bottom lip.
“Camp’s a lot of work,” she says finally. “I’ve never been in charge of so many people at once before, and like hell am I gonna let Chiron think I can’t handle it. I have a Plan, and you’re a part of it.”
Nico resists the urge to groan. Chiron leaving is supposed to mean he gets the next day or so off — no classes, no socializing, nothing. Just him in his cabin and the genuinely disgusting amount of junk food he has amassed.
(…And Will. Maybe.)
“It’s nothing crazy,” she promises. “I just need you to lurk.”
“…Lurk?”
“Yeah, you know. Chill in the shadows and scare people into complacency. You don’t even need to do much, just that thing where you stare at people like you know the exact day they’re going to die.”
“I do love lurking,” Nico admits. And to basically have a free pass to scare the shit out of whoever he wants… “I’ll do it.”
She smiles brightly. “Thanks, Nico! I knew I could count on you. I’ll meet up with you right after Chiron heads out, okay? To give you a list of people to keep your eye on.”
“Sure. Bye, Annabeth.”
“See ya!”
He closes the door and pads back to his setup, shaking the remote to get it going again. He can’t quite shake the smirk off his face.
The next twenty four hours are going to rock.
———
“Swiper No Swiping, initiate phase one.”
“Roger that, Sunny Dick.”
“…I’m revoking your code name priveledges.”
“No no no, I’m sorry, I’ll change it.”
———
Before Chiron leaves, he gathers them all in the amphitheatre.
“Children,” he calls, adjusting the bow slung across his back. “I am leaving now for my conference. I will be back before the sun sets tomorrow.” He gestures towards Annabeth, standing stiffly beside him. “Annabeth is in charge. Consider all my authority transferred to her before I return, am I understood?”
“Yes, Chiron,” courses the camp, some with significantly more attitude than others. Across the gathered crowd, Will catches his eye and winks. (Well, tries to. He has yet to catch on to the fact that he cannot, actually, wink, and instead just blinks really intentionally. Kayla and Austin have sworn him to secrecy.) Nico rolls his eyes, ears burning, and looks away.
“Good. Regular rules; no maiming, killing, or injuries above level seven. Any arson will result in a revoking of dessert privileges. Yes, Julia, even if you help in putting out the arson. It is the fire that is the issue, you understand. Excellent.” He claps his hands together. “I am looking forward to one day of peace. Try to avoid ruining it for me too quickly. Goodbye, children.”
With a wave and a fond squeeze of Annabeth’s shoulder, he trots over to Half-Blood Hill, ignoring Mr. D’s loud complaining about how long he took. With a snap of Mr. D’s fingers, they disappear. For a brief, uncanny moment, everything is still.
“Alright,” Annabeth shouts, clapping her hands together. Nico jumps. “Dinner is in an hour. Whoever is the first to fuck something up will be doing dishes. I will be watching. Dismissed.”
Wading through the swathes of ambling teenagers, she walks by where Nico is leaning against a pillar, half-hidden in the shadows.
“Lurk,” she orders, passing him.
Nico shoots her a mocking salute, fading into the shadow behind him. He barely catches her grin before he dissolves into the darkness.
———
“Phase two in effect. Ready to go, Sabrina Spellman?”
“Prepped to go, Teletubbies Sun Baby.”
“I hate both of you.”
———
“Halt!”
Across the common, three suspicious figures freeze, glance behind them, and then resume walking as casually as they can.
“I said halt! Do not move! Cease all function!”
Milling nervously towards each other, Dumb, Dumber, and Dumbest pause, shifting the three massive cardboard boxes they hold each.
“Hi, Annabeth,” Will says, smiling innocently. Cecil and Lou Ellen match him, eyes wide, expressions angelic.
Annabeth stomps over to them, fists clenched at her sides, entirely unmoved by the cherubic display in front of her. Nico stays right where he is, hidden by the shade of Cabin Eight.
“Explain yourselves,” Annabeth orders.
The three stooges exchange a look.
“Whatever do you mean,” Lou Ellen asks, shifting the boxes to free up her hand only to place it delicately over her chest. “Why, we are only helping our dear friend William —”
“Our dear, dear friend,” Cecil adds.
“— carry these many boxes of medical supplies, so as to lower his great burden —”
“Massive burden,” Will says sagely.
“— and free up his evening in order for him to spend his limited time with us, his most cherished friends.”
“Especially cherished,” Will and Cecil chorus together.
Unable to bite back a smile, Nico rolls his eyes so hard his skull hurts. They’re not even trying to not get caught, at this point. Idiots.
Clearly agreeing, Annabeth scoffs. “Yeah, right. Boxes down, all three of you. You’re being detained for suspected illicit substances.”
“Annabeth!” Will cries, hand to his chest, “after all I do for this camp, you would accuse me of being — illicit?! Me?! The outrage! The insult! The impugn, the —”
“Can it, Solace. Open the boxes.”
Huffing in perfect unison, the three of them carefully lower their boxes to the ground.
“Tape off.”
Intentionally slowly, they run a nail along the edge of the packing tape.
“Flaps open, guys, c’mon.”
With flourish, the trio fling open the thin cardboard panels. Inside each box is rows of bandages, packaged syringes, sterile bands, tongue compresses, and more that Nico can’t name. Annabeth glares at the boxes with perhaps more disdain than the situation calls for.
Then again.
It is camp.
“See?” says Cecil, gesturing grandly. “The shipment just came in from my dad.”
Like a hound dog locking in on a bleeding squirrel, Annabeth’s eyes narrow. Her lips spread into wide, frankly maniacal smirk.
“Your dad is in a conference with the rest of the Olympians right now, Markowitz.”
Caught.
“Well,” Cecil says, and then nothing else.
“He meant it in the royal sense,” Lou Ellen pipes up in his silence. Cecil nods frantically. “You know, ‘just’ as in, like, recently, as in this morning —”
“Do you three think I’m stupid.”
“It’s just medical supplies! You can look through them if you want —”
Even if they weren’t acting like criminals, Nico knows his friends. He knows his boyfriend, especially, and recognises that damn look on his face. He can also physically see Annabeth’s stress ulcer coming back.
Closing his eyes, Nico fades into Cabin Six’s shadow. It’s a quick jump, so the stretch is easy, and the darkness bows easily to his hold. He reappears silently behind the group, taking advantage of the setting sun, and darts out to grip Lou Ellen’s arm.
“Boo,” he whispers.
She shrieks at the top of her lungs, jumping three clean feet in the air. Coincidently, the boxes of medical supplies flicker, turning into a truly baffling amount of instant mashed potato boxes.
“I knew it!” Annabeth shouts.
On cue, all three doofuses turn to Nico, jeering and complaining about ‘ruining the fun’. Nico’s glare is ineffective on Doofus #1, but the other two can be cowed. He focuses on channelling the flames of hell to reflect in his eyes like his father showed him until they look away, muttering at the ground.
“We still don’t have any illicit substances,” Will insists, glaring right back. Nico sticks out his tongue. He crosses his eyes like a four year old. How immature, honestly. “So we’re just gonna take our stuff and —”
“Absolutely not, Golden Boy. Put that hand away.”
Wisely, Will draws slowly back from the boxes, tucking his hands in his pocket.
Annabeth stares, hard, at the three of them, flicking her dark eyes from the potatoes and back. The tips of her worn-out converse tap slowly on the packed grass, tip-tap-tip-tap, as they all squirm.
Understanding dawns on her quickly.
“It’s supposed to rain tomorrow, for the strawberry plants.”
They squirm harder.
“Oh, you godsdamn bitches.”
“It would’ve been really funny,” Cecil mumbles, staring at the ground. “Rain making the ground turn into a sea of mashed potatoes. Like Cloudy With A Chance Of Meatballs.”
“The only meatballs around here are the ones clogging up your skull!” Annabeth shouts, which doesn’t quite make sense but sounds clever coming from her anyway. “Who was gonna clean that up, huh? Magic?”
“I mean, probably,” Lou Ellen says, promptly shutting up at Annabeth’s glare.
“And you, Will! I cannot believe! Where is that responsibility you’re known for, huh?”
Will pouts. “I can be responsible and do fun things.”
“Fun, he says. I’m going to fucking kill you, how’s that for fun. The one day I’m left in charge, I cannot believe —”
“If it helps, it’s less about you and more about April Fools being tomorrow,” Cecil interjects tentatively. “Like, we were going to do this whether or not Chiron left.”
Annabeth glares darkly. “Of fucking course you were. It’s always you three, I swear to the gods. I should have known.”
“It’s honestly kind of embarrassing for you guys,” Nico adds. He smiles smugly at them, relishing in their rolled eyes and mocking hands. “Like, everyone expected this. You did this to yourselves, honestly.”
“Boo, you jag,” Lou Ellen protests. The other two knuckleheads joint in the booing, Will taking it an extra stop forward and blowing a raspberry, both thumbs pointing down. Nico responds with a wide grin and two middle fingers.
“Enough,” Annabeth says, rubbing her temples. “Extra chores, all three of you. Go help the cleaning harpies until sundown. And not another peep of complaint or I’ll have you on chores tomorrow, too.”
Without another glance at them, she turns around and walks away, muttering at least you caught it early at least you caught it early at least you caught it early over and over to herself.
“Pretty sure you guys have physical labour to do,” Nico says brightly when she disappears into the Big House. “I’d get started on that, if I were you.”
“Butthead,” Cecil mutters.
“Kiss-ass,” Lou Ellen agrees, making a face.
“Traitor,” Will whispers, pressing a kiss to his cheek as he walks past.
Nico watches them go, standing guard over the boxes in case they try to come back for them.
He can’t help but think that they all look a little too jovial for having their plans ruined before they even started.
———
“Is he still looking?”
“No.”
“Okay, Phase Three, let’s go let’s go let’s go —”
———
Every time Nico wakes with the sun, he sets aside twenty minutes of his morning routine to curse Apollo, his father, Apollo again, Phanes, and Prometheus. In that order.
He does like the bonus of getting breakfast. Usually he sleeps through it and has to hope Will saved him coffee cake, which he does, every time, because he wants to bribe his way into Nico’s affections. But there is something to be said about camp coffee cake when it is still warm, crumbly on the top and soft on the inside. It is a rare and occasionally worth-it treat, and on his bleary walk to the dining pavilion, Nico tries to keep this in the forefront of his mind. Fresh coffee cake. Fresh coffee. Fresh fruit. And Will, probably, not that seeing him is worth getting up early or anything. (So what that he gets all excited and energetic when he sees Nico up in the morning. If anything it’s embarrassing for him.)
For once, he’s actually early enough that there are very few people already at breakfast. He sees most of the Athena kids, still half-asleep over their mugs, and pretty much every camper under the age of eleven. A few head counsellors, too, watching out for the little ones or catching up on a rare moment of quiet. Nico makes a beeline for the breakfast spread, cutting a slice of coffee cake to leave on the platter and putting the rest of it on his plate. He puts a single strawberry in the middle of it so no one can accuse him of being unhealthy, then ambles over to the Apollo table.
“Neeks? Where’re you going?”
Nico pauses. He shifts his plate to one hand, rubbing at his bleary eyes. He looks at the Apollo table. He counts one, two, three heads — Kayla, Austin, and…Cecil?
“Nico? You good, babes?”
He turns, slowly, to face the voice. Picking at a plate full of pineapple, next to Reika Onason, Lou Ellen's sister, is Will.
“I know mornings are hard for you, but you’re meant to eat at your table,” he teases. “Come sit, doofus. Unless you’re taking advantage of Chiron’s absence to make friends elsewhere, I guess, but it seems unlike you.”
“You’re — what’re you — what?“ Nico says dumbly, struggling to reconcile the imagine in front of him.
For some reason, Will is eating his breakfast at the Hecate table.
And that is not all.
For some reason, his camp shirt does not say head medic. For some reason, he is wearing black jeans. For some reason, dozens of Celestial bronze rings adorn his fingers, carved with sigils. For some reason, his hair is clipped back, and there is black eyeliner around his bright blue eyes, and his nails are painted darker than Nico’s, and he is sitting at the Hecate table.
“What are you doing?”
“Having…breakfast,” Will says slowly. His lips turn down in concern. “Nico, are you okay?”
“I’m fine! It’s — you’re the one acting weird!”
Will and Reika exchange a look.
“Maybe you should go see Cecil,” Will suggests carefully. “Did you sleep okay last night? Maybe you hit your head —”
Nico looks desperately back at the Apollo table. They watch him strangely now, too, and after a second Cecil gets up from his — Will’s — seat, and walks over.
“Everything okay?” he asks, impish expression almost serious. “You look pale, Nico.”
“I’m worried,” Will says. “He’s acting — confused, Cece, maybe there’s a —”
“I’m not confused,” Nico scowls. “You two are — doing something.” He gestures vaguely between them. “As revenge for yesterday.”
Will snorts. “What, the potatoes? Don’t let Lou hear you discredit her like that. If you think she’d plan some revenge prank on you this early, you don’t know her at all.”
Nico’s head starts to hurt. He sets down his plate, rubbing his temples. Why would Lou Ellen be so bothered by that? Why isn’t she here, with her sister? What the hell is going on?
“Both of you — cut it out. Whatever dumbass prank you’re pulling is just stupid.”
“Did I hear something about a prank?” Bounding over from the camp store, arms laden with contraband junk food, is Lou Ellen, smiling brightly. “Whatever it is, I want in!”
“Oh, thank the gods, you’re back.” Will makes grabby hands at the pile. She tosses him a pack of twizzlers off the top, rolling her eyes as he tears into like he didn’t just polish off two and a half entire pineapples and three bowls of oatmeal. “I was going through withdrawal.”
“I’m not helping you when your stomach cramps up,” Cecil promises, snorting. His eyes follow the candy ropes in their harried journey towards Will's gaping maw. “You can sit in your misery.”
“Bleh bleh bleh.”
Nico narrows his eyes at them. Clearly, they’re all in on this — bit, or whatever it is. It’s a little too coordinated to be a quickly-planned revenge prank. They must have had a backup to the potatoes, although a pretty weak one. Unless they somehow managed to bribe the entire camp into agreeing to act along with their dumbassery, and Nico knows none of them can come even close to affording that, then all it takes is one person on Nico’s side before their little ruse is broken.
“It’s too early for this,” Nico says, interrupting their bickering. He picks up his breakfast and trudges off to his actual table, ignoring Will’s pouting. He has to brush the dust off the bench, but it’s worth it to avoid whatever headache the three of them will inevitably give him.
Coffee cake, save him.
———
“It’s not looking good, Katara —”
“I actually like that one.”
“— he’s totally onto us.”
“Just stick to the plan. Power onto Phase Four.”
———
To Nico's great satisfaction, many other people do double takes as they walk into breakfast.
As the Athena table, minus Annabeth, who is likely putting out a literal or metaphorical fire somewhere, wakes up, they start to notice the strange seating situation. It starts with Malcolm, who stares at Cecil in a lab coat with the same expression Nico has seen him wear when attempting to solve the Hodge conjecture. He leans over to murmur something in his brother’s ear, and then all seven of them are looking between the Hecate, Apollo, and mostly-empty Hermes tables with suspicious frowns and furrowed brows.
Nico catches Will’s eye, smirking.
Game’s up, he mouths. Will only shrugs innocently at him.
It’s Annabeth who finally puts a stop to the nonsense, striding in at the tail end of the rest of the slowly-waking crowd. She has grass in her hair and murder in her eyes.
Excellent.
“I swear to the gods, I just dealt with you three,” she snaps, raising her voice so they all can hear her. Coincidentally, it attracts the attention of every other nosy person at camp, which is everybody. “Just ‘cause Chiron’s not here doesn’t mean the rules go out the window. Back to your tables, let’s move.”
“We’re at our tables,” Cecil protests. “Why do people keep saying that?”
Annabeth takes a very deep, very long breath. She has a whole day of this, too. How unfortunate for her.
“Maybe because you are full of shit, Markowitz. Go sit with the rest of you troublemakers.”
Kayla clears her throat. “Annabeth, I’m not sure what you’re talking about.” Her thin eyebrows are drawn tightly together, lips turned down into a frown. “Cecil is exactly where he’s supposed to be.”
That gives her pause.
That gives a lot of people pause. Nico sets down his coffee cake.
“Cecil’s at the Apollo table,” Annabeth says slowly.
Kayla meets her gaze, face creased in concern. “...Yeah, I know.”
“Cecil is a Hermes kid, Kayla.”
She snorts. “Yeah, sometimes I think so, too. But as much as I would absolutely love to trade my brother —”
“Hey!”
“He’s a healer, Annabeth. He got claimed and everything.”
“I don’t have time for this,” Annabeth says, dragging her hand down her face. “Kayla, I don’t know what they paid you —”
“Oh, for goodness’ sake.” With a clatter of plates, Will clambers on the table, clapping his hands. “Your attention please, everyone!”
Without so much as a pause, Will claps his hands together. Immediately, a ball of green light expands from them, flashing almost too bright to look at. Nico watches, slack jawed, as he tosses it into the air, making it explode into a thousand little sparkles, descending gently over everyone’s heads. The little kids laugh in delight, reaching for them like they’re bubbles.
“Does that settle things?” he demands.
Silence rings for one, two, three seconds.
The camp erupts.
Dozens of voices overlap, all shouting over each other at once. Hands gesture wildly at Will, at Cecil, at Lou — trying to piece things together. Will is their head medic — isn’t he? Then why is Cecil wearing scrubs? And why is Lou chilling at the Hermes’ table, chatting with Julia over a bowl of cereal? Something isn’t right.
“Just — everybody quiet!”
It takes a minute, but everyone settles down, sitting back in their seats and fidgeting, looking around with half-confused, half-amused smiles. Like they’re laughing at a joke they’re half convinced is real.
“Who thinks this —” Annabeth makes some vaguely indicative movement at Will, Lou, and Cecil — “is weird? Raise your hand.”
Almost all hands go up. Only a handful stay down — Will, Lou Ellen, and Cecil, of course, but the entirety of the Hermes cabin stays oddly silent, as do Kayla, Austin, Reika, and, shockingly, Clovis.
“Stoll,” Nico demands before Annabeth gets the chance, “you’re buying this?”
“Buying what?” Connor says after a moment. He shrugs, eyes twinkling in amusement. “I’m just chillin’ with my sister, Nico. Cecil is great, but he hasn’t been in our cabin since he got claimed.”
The rest of the Hermes kids nod in agreement. Whispers filter through the tables — first Kayla, now all the Hermes kids?
“If I may,” interjects Clovis, yawning. “There’s an…energy, around.”
“Gods, yeah, I was feeling it too,” Will agrees frantically. “Almost a…blanket, of some kind. Something heavy and stifling.”
Malcolm looks over with interest. “You think we got cursed, or something? The whole camp?”
Will shrugs. “Maybe? Can’t think of any other reason you guys are remembering things weird.”
“It could be a god’s interference,” Nyssa suggests, raising her voice to be heard from the Hephaestus table. “I mean, that’s what happened to Jason and Leo and Piper, right? Their memories got fudged.”
“Yeah, but camp-wide…”
“Could still be possible.”
“There’s no way! They’re fucking with us, come on —”
It doesn���t take long for the arguing to start up again. This time, though, more people looked spooked — more people look to the dumbass trio themselves, eyes wide like they’re looking at ghosts.
Like they’re believing this shit.
Nico scowls, shoving away from his table and stomping over to his boyfriend.
“You are so full of shit I can smell you from across the room,” he says, raising his voice to be heard over the noise.
“I don’t know what you want me to say.” He wiggles his fingers in Nico’s direction. They spark with the same green light. “Want me to switch your eyes and ears again?”
That sounds horrifying. “Try it and die.”
“Alright, grouchy.” He holds his hands up, stepping back from Nico’s glare. “I’ll keep my hands to myself.”
Alarm bells go off in Nico’s head. This is more than just strange, it’s wrong. And not just ‘cause he looks different — so what if he looks different. Will could shave his head bald and tattoo himself purple, Nico wouldn’t care.
But his aura.
The essence of Will, that Nico has grown so used to be stopped noticing. The quiet, warmth strength, the feeling of a soft breeze in the summer, of walking past a window in the late afternoon, of smokey August campfires and scratchy guitar, is gone. Is different, rather; almost blocked. It feels like a cloud blowing over the sun, making everything warped and off and shadowy.
Something is afoot. Something is wrong, and not just some vague, made-up spell like the Trickster Trio would have the camp believe. Something like smoke and mirrors, something shadier.
He watches Will fall into step next to Cecil, ducking away from his ruffling hand. He frowns.
If there’s one thing Nico can do, it’s wade through the shadows.
———
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just-jordie-things · 2 days
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clean little secret - itadori yuji
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word count: 7.4k warnings: none! summary: yuji and (y/n) are keeping a secret from the others... yuji loves to be pampered by her. more info: tooth rotting fluff, crushing, friends to lovers
for stef <3 ___
Itadori Yuji wasn’t one for keeping secrets.  For one, he believed they often caused more harm than good.  So unless it was a surprise party, he had no interest in them.  Even if Nobara swore it was a particularly juicy piece of information, Yuji had no problem covering his ears with his hands and walking in the other direction.  And for two, well, he just wasn’t that great at keeping them, and after a few accidental slips, he’d decided to keep himself secret free.
Of course, the dirty little secret he had of his own didn’t count.  But it wasn’t like any harm could come of it… he was pretty sure… so long as (y/l/n) (y/n) didn’t let it slip either.
“So whaddya say?” Nobara’s unusually chipper voice drew Itadori back to the present conversation with the tell-tale hum of a boy that hadn’t listened to a thing she’d said.
Megumi briefly rolls his eyes, (y/n) lets out a short giggle that she quickly stifles behind her hand, and Nobara places her hands on her hips as she turns towards the pink haired sorcerer with a frown.
“Do you want to go see that movie tonight or not?” She asks him pointedly, as if she hadn’t spent the last few minutes coming up with a whole plan for picking up snacks and sneaking them into the theater.
“Oh!” Realization dawns on Yuji in the form of a bright grin, but Nobara’s hope is quickly deflated when he shakes his head.  “No, I can’t, sorry” 
Before the redhead could strangle him for getting her hopes up with his stupid smile, Megumi’s backing out too, and her attention is quickly swiveled towards (y/n), who had suspiciously kept her expression behind her hand.
“Sorry, Nobara,” She lowers her hand to reveal her frown.  “I can’t tonight either.  But maybe this weekend?” She tries to compromise, but it appears Nobara was already defeated by the sting of a triple rejection.
“Fine, whatever, this weekend,” She mumbles, hoping a pouty lip would be the final straw to convince her friends.  When no one moves, her expression returns to its usual resting bitch face and she turns to leave.  “But if the groupchat is as dead as your energy later, then I’m going with Maki instead!” She hollers.
That was close, Yuji thought to himself as the group dispersed and he hurriedly made his way down the hall.  Luckily this time, Nobara didn’t shake him down to interrogate him into telling her what better things he could have to do for the evening.  God, that could’ve gotten embarrassing.
After a quick stop by his dorm to change out of his uniform, Yuji made sure the halls were clear before he booked it across the building, moving as fast as he could while keeping his steps as quiet as possible, before he slid to a stop in front of her door.
With two quick but rhythmic knocks, her door slid open, and (y/n) peeked out, eyeing both directions of the hall around Yuji to make sure no one was around to see her let him in.
“You’re sure no one followed you?” She whispers, finally meeting his eyes.
Yuji shook his head confidently.  Her lips broke into a grin so wide that the corners of her eyes crinkled.
“Well then get in here already!” She says with hushed excitement, grabbing him by the front of his tee shirt and pulling him inside, closing the door behind him in one swift movement.
Yuji seats himself at the end of her bed while she grabs her phone off her desk, scrolling through an abundance of spotify playlists before settling on just the right one.
“I’m so glad we’re finally doing this” She tells him, effectively turning his cheeks pink.
“Yeah, me too” He agrees, hoping his nerves aren’t too obvious in his voice.
“I’ve been dying to show you what I just got for christmas” She adds, practically skipping into the bathroom to retrieve a decently sized plastic basket full of products Yuji can’t even recognize.  She has to carry it over to him with both hands, and he knows he should probably be intimidated by what they’re about to do, but he doesn’t.
As (y/n) drags him into her tiny bathroom to set up the array of items, she lists off each one as she shows him.  Hydrating mask, lip mask, eyelash serum, somehow it all sounds relaxing and terrifying all at once, but he trusts her, so he nods along to each one.  She seems delighted enough just to show off her little collection of products, so Yuji’s determined to match her excitement.
Truthfully, Yuji had never touched anything like this.  Sometimes he moisturized his hands when they got dry in the colder seasons, but he wouldn’t say he knew a thing about skincare.  And yet, one afternoon while walking with (y/n) from one class to another, he found himself getting carried away telling her how he was trying to take better care of himself and he wanted to establish a proper skincare routine.  Before he knew it he was agreeing to being pampered by her- on the condition that it remained secret.
Now remember, one of Yuji’s very few rules of life included the simple act of not keeping secrets.  But that day he’d agreed to her condition without a moment of hesitation.  He could understand why she didn’t want the others knowing that she was going to give him special treatment, seeing as Nobara had been begging to give everyone makeovers since she’d arrived at Jujutsu Technical College.
While he’s not disappointed in his plan for the afternoon, Yuji does feel incredibly out of place in her bathroom.  The dorms were small enough, and the bathrooms barely had room for one person to move around comfortably.  But (y/n) doesn’t seem crowded at all as she rummages through the couple of drawers next to him.
With a grin she retrieves what she’d been looking for- two fluffy headbands held proudly in her hand.
“I got one for you too,” She tells him, bashfully avoiding his eyes as she extends one out to him.  “You’ll want to keep your hair back, the mask can get really sticky” 
Yuji examines the soft baby pink material as if he’d never seen a headband before.  He’s pretty sure he knows how to use it, but just in case, he watches as (y/n) slides hers on first.  It’s not until he sees the ears on top that he checks his again, delighting in the matching cat ears before he pulls it around his neck and puts it on.
“Thanks!” He beams at both of their reflections in her mirror.  He wishes he could take a picture of them, just to have a picture of the two of them wearing the matching accessory, but he knows he can’t risk the others seeing, so for now he settles on memorizing the image.
“You’re welcome,” (y/n) bites the inside of her cheek to keep her grin from getting too goofy, and quickly redirects their attention to the first item on the agenda.  “You’ve really never done a face mask before?” 
“Nope,” Yuji shakes his head, leaning into the counter as he waits for her direction.  “Is it going to hurt?” 
“No!” (y/n) giggles, before beckoning him to hold his hand out as she uncapped the product.  “It’ll feel nice, here, put a little on,” She instructs, squeezing a dollop of green onto his fingers.  She laughs again at his reaction to the color, but he doesn’t question her as he right away rubs it onto his nose.
He had the right idea, but from the way he messily spread it over the bridge of his nose, she could tell he was going to struggle with the application.
“No no, you’re getting it everywh- oh my god don’t put it in your nose!” She squeals as she smacks his hand away, quickly stepping into his space and taking over.
Honestly, Yuji wasn’t trying to get her to do it for him, but as soon as she gently grabs his jaw in one hand while the other is carefully swiping the excess cream off of the tip of his nose, he decides right then and there to surrender.
“I didn’t know, I’ve never done it” He whines, a bit more dramatically than necessary.
“It shows,” She laughs quietly before reaching for the product again to pump more onto her own fingers.  “I can just do it for you, if you want?” She offers.
Yuji smiles and nods gratefully, his heart doing a victory dance in his chest.
“Only if you don’t mind” He tells her, already sitting himself down on her toilet seat so she didn’t have to reach up to his face.  (y/n) fights the urge to roll her eyes at his swiftness in letting her take over.
“I don’t mind,” She shrugs, getting to work applying a generous amount of lime green mask to his cheeks first.  “It’s relaxing to me, actually” 
“Really?” 
“Mhm,” She nodded along, focused on keeping the application even.  “I would’ve loved having a sibling or a cousin or something to do this stuff with,” She tells him.  “I know Nobara would… but… she’s so intense about it sometimes,” She admits, and Yuji hums in agreement.  Nobara was the most passionate person he’d ever met, and it was her greatest strength, but it did freak him out from time to time.  “Not like us” 
The murmured comment sits on his mind longer than it should have.  Not like us, she’d said, filling his insides with the fuzzy, familiar feeling of having something with her that the others didn’t.  This was all his, and she’d said so herself.  They couldn’t possibly understand them the way they understood each other.  
Not like us.  Not like us.  Not like us.
Yuji closes his eyes when her careful fingers spread the mask up the bridge of his nose before she gets started on covering his forehead.
“You do this stuff all the time though?” He asks when there’s too long of pause since he’d last heard her voice.
Not that he could forget what it sounded like, no never, most of Yuji’s day was spent waiting for her to speak, just so he could listen.  Whether she was arguing with Gojo about a ridiculous lesson plan or going on about a conspiracy theory just to get their lunch table riled up, if (y/n) was talking, Yuji had his mouth shut and his ears wide open.  He liked hearing the things she had to say, he liked the way she said them.
And he was learning now that he especially liked when he was the only one she was speaking to, and that if she was standing close, her voice came out in soft murmurs, cautious of the short space between them, and gentle on his ears as it barely echoed off the ceramic tiled walls.
“Maybe not all the time,” She hums thoughtfully.  “But I do it when I can, I try to keep up with it anyways” 
“Well it feels really nice” Yuji mumbled, almost getting sleepy as he grew used to the feeling of her warm fingers spreading the cooling cream on his skin.  (y/n) giggles again, breathy and amused as she watches his shoulders droop downwards.
“Don’t fall asleep on the toilet, Yuji,” She scolds him, but it’s hardly threatening when it’s between strings of giggles as he lazily opens his eyes to look at her.  “You’ll make a mess if you fall and hit your head on the counter” 
“I’d clean it up” He mumbles back in defeat.
“What if you were concussed?” 
“... I’d clean it up later” 
She laughs at his antics just as she’s making her final touches near his temple, spreading the green cream just so, making sure none of it would get stuck to his eyebrow.  With an affirmative nod of her head she steps back to assess her work.  
As sticky, creamy, and unfamiliar as the mask feels, Yuji’s currently grateful that it’s there to cover the way his face heats up under her direct gaze.  He’s always thought that she’s had the softest eyes- doe-like, and sweet, and easy to gaze into- but with every ounce of her attention directly on his face, Yuji starts to sweat a little bit.
His intentions of becoming closer friends through a night of pampering was starting to backfire, and instead the little crush he’d been hiding was now festering.  Bubbling and smoking just under the thinly veiled surface of his restraint.
“You’re all set,” She beams at him, which he easily returns.  “Try not to touch it while I do mine, okay? It’s gotta sit for a while” 
Yuji drops his hand just as he’s about to swipe off a generous streak of cream from his cheek, smiling innocently as (y/n) gives him a warning look before she turns towards her mirror to apply her own mask.
“Serious question, if I eat it, while I throw up?” 
(y/n) pauses mid-smear on her cheek, turning back to Yuji and sweeping her eyes over him to assess if he was actually serious about eating face cream.  He did know it wasn’t guacamole… right? She didn’t need to tell him that… right?
“If you eat it, I’ll be plucking your eyebrows after mine” She settles on a friendly threat.  
Yuji’s lips pinch and she gets back to work on her mask, certain she’d done the trick to keep him sitting still.
“Well that sounds horrifying,” He mumbles.  “But I’m in” 
(y/n) scoffs out of amusement, still focused on her reflection.
“You want me to pluck your eyebrows?” 
“If you’re doing it, then sure,” Yuji shrugs, not thinking twice about agreeing to it.  “It wouldn’t be a complete spa night otherwise” He adds with a grin that she can see from the corner of her eye.
“Well, if you really want…” She mumbles, doubling down her focus on applying her mask.
A part of her had been hoping he wasn’t agreeing to all this pampering just to please her, she hoped he wasn’t dreading the night going forward.  But if he hated it… he wouldn’t be signing himself up for eyebrow plucking… right?
It only takes a few more minutes for her to complete her own mask- she was much faster at applying it to her own face, Yuji noticed.
He also noticed that somehow, she made a face of lime green paste look good.  Which just wasn’t fair.
When Yuji tries to pinpoint when exactly these feelings for her began, his mind becomes a blurry haze of every moment he’s ever shared with her- and honestly, it could have sparked from any one of them.  It tricks him into thinking maybe he’d just… always had feelings for her.
It’s easy being around her, Yuji finds- even though sometimes she leans close enough to show him a video on her phone and it nearly sends him into cardiac arrest- there’s nothing but ease and relaxation in his muscles when she’s around him.  He doesn’t worry about saying the wrong thing- even if she giggles and shakes her head at some of his questions- he basks in her delight until it becomes his own.
Twenty minutes flies by when they’re laughing at memes or talking about the last week of training, and soon they’re scrubbing off the green mask that feels a little crustier than it had when they put it in.
Yuji groans into the bottom of the sink for the ump-teenth time as he scrubs viciously at a part of his jaw where the hardened cream refused to wash off.  (y/n) can’t help but stifle a laugh into the warm washcloth she’s using to pat her face dry, but she can’t leave him hanging, so she politely taps his shoulder to get the boy to give up on washing it off with his hands.
“Let me help” She offers, shoulders still shaking just slightly with her amusement.  
Yuji pouts with frustration when he stands up from the sink, water dripping down his face and all over his shirt, it really is a miracle he didn’t manage to clean up the last of the mask seeing as he got water everywhere in his attempts.
The pout melts away as soon as (y/n’s) stepping closer and gently wiping her washcloth against the resilient speck of green, making it look easy as it glides away under the soft cloth.  She gets it right away, but the tips of her fingers on her free hand still hover over his chin, ready to stabilize his head if he would’ve required another, rougher swipe of the cloth.
“Did ya get it?” Yuji asks hesitantly, unable to read the expression on her face.
But she’s smiling and stepping back in a moment’s notice.
“Yep!” There’s a short, tight sounding laugh that follows.  It’s not like her usual laughter, it sticks out like a sore thumb for someone as attentive as Yuji to pick up on, and he does, but he doesn’t say anything.  “Here, I have a dry washcloth for you” She’s quick to hand him the towel, and even quicker to stop him when he roughly drags the fabric over his face.
Yuji doesn’t catch half the things she’s saying when she snatches the pink cloth from his hands and tells him to sit his ass down before he destroys his pores.  He doesn’t think twice before jokingly asking her what pores are, which sends her on another lecture.  It’s hard to focus on what she’s explaining when she’s so delicately patting his face and neck dry of every last waterdrop.  He’s too busy fighting the urge to close his eyes and melt under the featherlight touch of her palm against his shoulder to give too much of a crap about pores.
Surprisingly, he’s never fallen asleep on the toilet before, but he thinks he could if he sat here and let her pamper him all night.
“... Yuji? Did you hear anything I just said?” 
It takes a few blinks for his vision to focus on her again- her brow is raised and her hands are on her hips now, she’d definitely caught him zoning out.  He hopes playing dumb does the trick.
“Of course,” He nods confidently.  “Pores swell when they’re wet and that’s bad” 
She giggles and rolls her eyes, so he knows his educated guess wasn’t as educated as he thought, but if he got her to laugh he’d take the slight tinge of embarrassment for the greater good of bringing her joy.
God, it was like every minute spent with her only left him craving more.
“Sure,” She drawls out the word in disbelief, but she doesn’t scold him for not paying attention.  It would prove to be too difficult when he’s looking at her with the brightest eyes she’s ever seen.  She would’ve believed he was hanging onto every word had he not opened his mouth.  “So, what next?” 
Yuji peeks at the remaining tubes and bottles on the counter.  He has no clue what he’s looking at of course, and this is obvious when his helpless expression turns back towards her.  To make it easier, (y/n) scoops up two smaller bottles, offering them both for him to choose from.
“Which is which?” He asks, hooking his finger under his chin as he studies each product with skeptical eyes.
“One is for your eyelashes, and the other is for your lips,” (y/n) explains, tilting each towards him as she does.  “We can do both, or neither, up to you” 
“Will it hurt if it gets in my eyes?” He asks, eyes noticeably widened, and she chuckles as she shakes her head.
“Not at all, it’s super easy,” She assures.  “I can show you, if you want?” 
Yuji nods, and that’s how he finds himself standing just a few inches away from her as she leans into the mirror with the small applicator brush in her fingers.  She could remind him that she’s using the mirror for a reason, and he didn’t need to stand so close… but honestly, he smelled nice, and she wasn’t uncomfortable with his close proximity.  In fact, it was actually sort of comforting.
“See?” She hums, brushing the applicator through her lashes over one eye a couple times to make sure all of the serum was evenly spread, before leaning back from the mirror and turning towards him.  “Super easy.  Like mascara” 
“I’ve never told anyone this… but…” Yuji lets out a heavy sigh, and her brows pinch together as she awaits his confession.  “... I’ve never worn mascara” 
“Yuji,” She whines with a roll of her eyes, letting out her own sigh, although hers was filled with humored frustration.  “Shut up,” She finishes weakly when he’s grinning at his own jest.  “Here, do you want to try?” 
“Alright” He takes the tube out of her hand and experimentally pulls the applicator out.  
His curiosity is almost adorable as he holds it close to study it, even though there’s not much to see.  It’s just a little blue bruh with a clear liquid coated over it.  This stuff really makes your lashes grow? He looks back to (y/n), studying her just as closely, until her face starts to turn rosy and she’s looking at him expectantly.  He supposes her eyelashes do look long and pretty… but didn’t they always look like that? Could this stuff really be so good it manages to make an angel like her look prettier?
She has to clear her throat to relieve the nervous tension settling over her the longer he stares at her like this.
“Uh- um, Yuji?” 
“Yeah?” His response seems genuine enough, and (y/n’s) eyes flicker between his and the eyelash serum.  “Oh!” And just as genuine as before, he realizes that her prompts are because he’s been standing and staring for too long.  “My bad,” He apologizes sheepishly, before scooting close to her, the brush extended towards the eye that she hadn’t applied the magic pretty serum to yet.
When she realizes what he’s about to do, her eyes widen and she finds herself grabbing his wrist to halt him on instinct.
“Wait, what are you-?” 
“I thought you wanted me to do the other one?” He answers her question before she could even finish asking it, and she blinks wildly at him.  Had she not been clear? “Do you not want me to?” Yuji asks, already lowering his hand.
“No, it’s- I don’t…” Her head is shaking as she tries to find a way to explain that she’d offered him the product for himself, but she’s backtracking rather quickly as she slowly loosens her hold before pulling her hand away altogether.  “You… you can, if you want” 
She tells him quietly.  It feels like a silly thing to ask him to do, especially when she’s just demonstrated how to use the product moments prior, but now that the offer was on the table, she also wasn’t interested in turning it down.
“Okay,” His smile softens as he tilts the brush towards her face again.  “I promise not to poke your eye out” 
With a giggle she has to focus to keep her gaze tilted up at the ceiling so he can follow through on his promise.  It’s more difficult than she’s ever thought before, keeping her eyes wide open and focused on anything but the boy in front of her.  Yuji takes great care in steadily swiping the brush up through her lashes, working slowly from the outside in.  With how long it takes him, her eye should be watering, but somehow it stays dry, and she doesn’t blink over the applicator.
“You do this every day?” Yuji mumbled, re-steadying the small brush in his fingers as he got closer to the inner part of her eye.  
(y/n) hardly manages a soft hum of affirmation.  She can feel his free hand ghosting under her jaw, as though to keep her in position, however her head is perfectly still and his hold is unnecessary.  Still, his palm waits there.  She’s never felt such a buzz of nervous energy from a lack of a touch.
Yuji finishes up with a smile before popping the brush back into the tube.  He looks like he wants to say something, so she finds herself waiting in silence while she blinks until her eyes feel normal again, but that winds them both up in a minute of no words being exchanged.
This time, it’s not uncomfortable.
“Your turn?” (y/n) offers softly, reaching for the serum in his hand.  Yuji nods, lets her take it, and blinks his eyes excessively to make sure he wouldn’t feel the need to while she was doing her thing.  “You should sit again” She prompts with a gentle push to his shoulder.  It was too awkward of a reach, and would be much easier if he lowered as much of his height as possible.
“Right” He mumbles, backing up to sit down on the toilet seat once more.  He does his best to keep his eyes focused upwards, and wide open, to make it as easy as possible for her.  But what he isn’t expecting is to feel her knees pressing against his as she gets closer, and on instinct he spreads his legs a little wider so she could easily slide into the space.  
He has to keep his grip on his own knees, pressing his fingers into the material of his pants to keep from reaching out to her.  The urge to hold onto her waist- the back of her thighs- pull her closer- is so strong that he gulps.
“Are you nervous having someone get this close to your eyes?” (y/n) mumbles, noticing the shift in his energy.  Yuji swallows again before speaking.
“No- no, it’s alright, go ahead” His voice is as gentle as it is sure, so (y/n) nods back at him, and makes sure the brush is coated with a decent amount of serum before she gets to work.
He knows he’s supposed to keep his gaze upwards, but with her standing so close, leaning in so close, it was hard to keep his eyes from shifting away from the boring tiled ceiling to the much more intriguing sight before him.
“Stay still,” (y/n) murmurs under her breath.  She’s so damn close to him he can feel her cool breath against his cheek.  He manages to follow the instruction for a few more seconds, but soon enough the tips of her fingers are pressed under his chin and she’s clicking her tongue in reprimand.
His own fingers flex against his knees, his grip tightening, much like the invisible force around his heart.
Yuji wishes he could close his eyes until it was over, but that would be counterproductive.  That said, (y/n) finishes one eye quicker than he had done for her, and she’s sliding a little to the right in order to do the other one.
“You think Sukuna would like a little special treatment, too?” She teases quietly, her thumb affectionately swiping over the marking under his eye.  Yuji barely gets to revel in the feeling before the mark is opening up and a vermillion eye is glaring up at her.
“Try it brat and you won’t have hands to do your silly little makeovers” 
She giggles at the threat.  Sukuna may have intimidated her in the past, but it’s hard to feel fear while doing some self care.  Yuji still rolls his eyes and smacks his hand against his own face as punishment.  Unfortunately it’s not only a punishment for the curse living inside of him, and he winces a bit from the harsh smack.
“I’ll take that as a no thank you” (y/n) hums as she finishes up with his other eye, smiling faintly at her work before stepping back.  Yuji gives her a sheepish smile, before batting his eyelashes theatrically.  It does the trick in getting her to laugh.
“Well he’s missing out,” He says, the implication behind the surface level of his words making him bashful, and he finds himself averting his gaze.  “I feel prettier already” 
It draws another laugh out of her, sharp and surprised, and she continues to giggle behind smiling, sealed lips as she carefully slides the lash serum back into it’s perfect spot in her organizer.
If she were braver, it would’ve been easy to tell him that he didn’t need any sort of serums or masks to be pretty.  But just the thought makes her face feel warm, and she has a feeling that even if she tried to say such a thing, she’d butcher the words with a stutter.
So instead, she uncaps the small set of tweezers in her organizer, and turns her focus to the bathroom mirror in order to get to work on her eyebrows.  Yuji watches curiously as she begins to pluck tiny, near invisible hairs off of her face, all without a twitch or flinch.
She’s so focused on working with her reflection that he’s able to stare at her as freely as he wants, and it only takes a minute or two for him to get lost in a sea of mushy thoughts that get his heartbeat going.  Before he knows it he’s practically melting.
“You still want me to do yours?” 
“Hm?” His eyes shift around a bit before they land on hers, already watching him, waiting for a proper answer.  
“Your eyebrows,” (y/n) clarifies, raising the tweezers and pinching them for emphasis.  “I’m done.  So, if you still wanted, I can do yours” 
“Oh, right, yeah,” He breaks into a smile that’s so characteristically him it’s hard not to smile back.  “Is it going to hurt?” 
“It really shouldn’t,” She chuckles, considering he’s gone through worse pain than a little tweezing would provide.  Losing a hand comes to mind, but she doesn’t voice it.  “But I can stop if it becomes too uncomfortable” 
Yuji nods in understanding, and straightens up his posture, ready to brave through whatever this eyebrow plucking would bring.  He squares his jaw, clenches his fists, and prepares himself for the worst.  (y/n) presses her lips together tightly to keep her laughter from spilling out, but the stifled giggle is still audible.
“C’mon, this is a bad angle for me to do this,” She beckons him to follow her out of the small bathroom, trying to ignore how cutely he wore the expression of confusion.
Maybe it was the forced proximity getting to her head, but it was starting to feel like the little crush she’d been harboring for her friend was becoming too much to bear.  She was a jujutsu sorcerer damnit, she shouldn’t be reduced to fits of blushing and giggling she was stronger than that, wasn’t she? 
“Alrighty” Yuji follows her into the larger space of her bedroom without a second thought.
Maybe it wasn’t a question of her strength, but his.  (y/n) wondered to herself what it was about the sheer delight that overcame her whenever he was around that seemed unavoidable.  Was it her feelings for him that made her insides feel weak, or was it simply Itadori Yuji himself that was so delightful she couldn’t help the way she felt and behaved?
Or maybe she was trying too hard to find a way to excuse the butterflies only he could release in her tummy.
She’s careful with the tweezers in her hand as she climbs onto her bed, sliding into the very middle of it before patting the space in front of her to invite Yuji to do the same.
Now, Yuji wasn’t some kind of private, conservative guy.  He’d been in beds other than his own.  Megumi’s and Nobara’s had been made available to him countless times.  Whether it was a study session or a movie night, he never felt uncomfortable when being allowed into someone else’s bed.  Hell, he often made himself right at home in their sheets.  He even got a smack on the head from Nobara once for getting too cuddly with one of her plushies! 
So why now did he feel some reluctance in following (y/n’s) silent command?
“You’re allowed in the bed, Yuji,” As if reading her thoughts, she provides some comfort with the offer.  There’s even a little smile on her face, as if she wanted to tease him for hesitating.  “Trust me, it’ll be way more comfortable to do this here than keeping you sat on the toilet” 
It seems to do the trick, because he sets his knee on the mattress as he crawls on, and sits criss-cross directly in front of her.  It’s the first time he’s been in her bed, he realizes, so maybe that would explain his nerves.
(y/n’s) got a skeptical look on her face, her eyes wandering over his face as she maneuvers around, trying to find the right way to bend her legs, until eventually she huffs and turns to grab one of her pillows from the headboard.
“Just lay down, I’ll do ‘em that way,” She decides, placing the pillow just in front of her criss-crossed legs.  She gives it a pat the same way she’d patted the bed, prompting him to rest his head.  “It’d be easier than destroying my posture” She explains.
Yuji nodded his head, and started to turn around so he could lay back, but his movements are agonizingly slow.  He’s still unsure about being in her space, it seems, but she’s not sure how else to make him feel comfortable.  So when he finally lays his head down on her pillow and looks up at her, awaiting further instruction, she smiles comfortingly.
“Alright, just relax your face, I’ll try not to take too long,”
Yuji shuts his eyes and lets out a small breath, trying to do his best to relax as she’d asked him.  But it’s hard when she leans in closer and the sweet smell of her shampoo invaded his nose.  The tip of her finger merely grazes over his left eyebrow, but the sensation is electric.  He has to fight the shiver that nearly shoots down his spine.
“And just tell me if it stings too much” She adds in a murmur, before he feels the first pluck of the tweezers.
“I think I can thug it out, (y/n),” He teases, once he’s actually felt the sensation of the plucking and realizes it’s not that bad at all.  “I’m tough, you know”
(y/n) giggles, quiet and sweet, as she continues on with her work.  She shapes the top of his brow with no complaint or lag.  He figures she must be pretty used to doing this, if she’s able to speed right through the process.
“Oh yeah,” She hums, cautious of her volume when her face is hovering right over his.  She’s appreciative that Yuji’s kept his eyes closed for this process, because she doesn’t think she could bear having him staring up at her when she’s this close.  “The toughest” She finishes in a whisper.
Yuji’s shoulders shake when he chuckles, and she pauses with the tweezer for a moment when his brows move along with his smile.
“Are you patronizing me?” He asks, peeking an eye open, only to be met with her free palm covering his eyes as she leans back in to continue working on his eyebrows.
“I would never,” She assures in the same tone, laughing quietly to herself when Yuji’s mouth drops into an offended gape.  “Now hush, you’re making it hard to focus” 
Her tone was playfully scolding, but it’s an empty threat.
“Am I that distracting?”
“Incredibly,” (y/n) huffs, and it’s meant to be teasing, but there’s just a little too much truth to her tone.  “You talk too much” She throws the excuse out there quickly, hoping he wouldn’t pick up on the shift in her tone.
Yuji shrugs his shoulders, and with how close she is to him, she’s able to watch his lips curl into a cute smile.  She can’t help but mirror it, even if he can’t see.
“Can’t help it.  I like talkin’ to you” 
Now she’s certain that she’ll keep her hand over his eyes, because there’s no way she’s going to risk him seeing the way her face heats up with color.  If she put a thermometer in her mouth, it’d malfunction, she’s sure.
Yuji’s heart may have been going haywire, but there’s not an ounce of uncertainty in his words.  He means it, and she knows it.
There’s a pause, the both of them remaining silent while she freezes in her ministrations.  She squeezes the tweezers together a few times as she lets the comment really settle in her mind.
“I like talking to you too,” 
It really shouldn’t be a difficult thing to say.  For one, because it’s the truth.  And for a second thing, because there’s nothing strange about friends getting along with one another.  But for some reason, she holds her breath after she says it, and her heart is pounding in her ears.
“Today’s been a lot of fun, actually” It takes some effort to talk through the lump in her throat, but she feels the need to tell him anyway.
His smile turns into a grin, and (y/n) has to go back to working on his eyebrows in order to distract herself from it.
“It has,” Yuji agrees.  “It’s very relaxing.  I want to do this all the time now” 
“I’m not sure you’re ready for that,” (y/n) muses.  “You did try to eat the mask” She reminds.
“Guess I’ll just have to keep on getting your help then,” Yuji replies, his tone lighting with hope.  (y/n) scoffs to herself.  “What?” He asks innocently.  “I thought you liked pampering me?” 
“I thought I told you you were talking too much” She chides, moving onto the space between his brows.  Without thinking, she brought her other hand upwards so she could use her thumb to gently brush away the stray hairs from his face.
His eyes are on hers in a moment’s notice, his grin returning.
“I thought you liked talking to me” He said. She has half a mind to smack her hand over his face again- because as predicted, she’s rendered speechless when she’s leaning so close and he’s looking right at her.  But the larger problem now is that she’s completely frozen, staring back at him with wide eyes, like he’d just caught her doing something she wasn’t supposed to be.
“I do,” She mumbles, barely conscious of her own voice.  She was too distracted, her eyes shifting between his brown ones.  “You have a little hazel in your eyes” Again, she finds herself speaking without caution, or much awareness at all.
His eyes crinkle at the corners as he smiles up at her, amused by her quiet commentary.  He longs to hear more, to tell her to keep talking, but he worries that he’ll ruin the atmosphere, and startle her into covering his face again.
“I always thought you had the prettiest eyes” He said it as quietly as he could.  As he thought she might, she did startle.  Her eyes go wide and her- now perfectly shaped- brows draw together in a slight knot.
A beat passes before she’s able to reply.
And even then, it's only a barely there, “...really?” 
“Yeah, really,” Yuji answers without missing another beat.  “Sometimes I look at ‘em too long and forget where I am” 
A surprised, breathless little laugh escapes her.  If she wasn’t a blushing wreck before, she certainly was now.  She tries to continue tweezing away at his eyebrows… but it seems like his eyes insist on holding contact with hers, and she can’t exactly pluck eyebrows without looking.
And again, she’s reduced to a mumbled, “R-really?” 
“Mhm” Yuji hums, his point proven as he gets lost staring up at her.  He looks like he has something more to say, but soon enough his eyes are glazed over and he’s got a dopey smile on his face.
That smile is quickly reflected back at him as her insides start to melt to a point of no return.
“I didn’t… uh- I- I didn’t know that” She stammered, and normally she’d feel embarrassed for stuttering over her words too much, but with the bigger picture forming, stuttering was at the bottom of her list for reasons why she was growing bashful.
“Mhm,” Yuji hums again, this one a little more dazed than the last.  He blinks a few times to cure his tunnel vision.  “Sometimes I had to bite my tongue so I wouldn’t tell you that” 
She chuckles, similarly biting down on her bottom lip until she found her voice again.
“Why wouldn’t you want to tell me that?” She asks softly, brows pinching again with curiosity.
“Well, uh, y’know…” Yuji trails off, barely shrugging his shoulders.  “Didn’t want to say something weird and mess up our friendship” 
At this point, her curiosity was getting the best of her, so with a tilt of her head and a bolder disposition, she gave him a knowing smile.
“So why say something now?” 
“Couldn’t help it” He replies right away, and (y/n) has to purse her lips from grinning too much.
Her eyes flicker away from his, only to glance up at his lips.  She’s looking at him upside down, so for a brief moment Yuji thinks she’s staring at his chin, and he wonders if some of that green mask is still stuck there.  But then he catches the way her lips part and it dawns on him- oh.
It happens all at once and agonizingly slow.  She leans further over him, bringing her face down closer to his.  One of her hands firmly clutches the small set of tweezers, while the other relaxes, fingertips gently brushing over his cheekbone, thumb resting against his temple.  Yuji can’t decide whether he wants to watch it happen with wide eyes, or close them and give into the moment.  They end up falling shut on their own accord as soon as her lips brush over his- before she’s even actually kissed him.
She hovers there for a brief moment, her lips ghosting his, the tip of her nose grazing his chin, and her mind running wild.  Should she have asked him if this was okay first? Was she making this huge leap of faith over one compliment? Sure, it was the sweetest thing anyone had ever said to her but if she kissed him right now, like this, would she come to regret it-? 
Her thoughts are calmed when Yuji tilts his head back, bringing his lips to meet hers in a kiss that pushes every last doubt out of her mind, until it’s gone blank.  Every thought that doesn’t surround him is completely lost.
Needless to say there’s no second thought when she kisses him back.  Her fingers press softly into the skin of his cheek as though to keep him still- just as she had before when applying the eyelash serum.  Yuji never could have imagined his silly daydreams from that moment would play out in reality just twenty minutes later.
When they part, and Yuji drops his head properly back into her pillow, (y/n) doesn’t go far.  With her eyes still shut and her touch unmoving, she leans down one more time to steal another, quicker kiss, before she finally sits up and glances down at him again.
He’s already looking at her, his lips stretching so wide that his grin nearly split his face.  It was a grin she was familiar with, but it still made her light up with a shared joy.
She giggles at him, before steadying her tweezers in her fingers and going right back to the previous task at hand.
“Couldn’t help it” She mumbles his words back to him, and Yuji laughs as he shuts his eyes, relaxing once more as she evened out his eyebrows.
He reaches his hand back, gently laying it against her bent knee and giving it an affectionate squeeze.  He didn’t say anything, and neither did she, but they didn’t have to.  Not until they finished their night of pampering and made plans for a proper date later in the week.
___
xoxo ~ jordie
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oddinary4bts · 1 day
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Chasing Cars | teaser (jjk)
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☆summary: when your brother goes to study on a semester abroad, your life collides with his best friend Jeon Jungkook, who's coincidentally your roommate. Will you survive the collision, or will you crumble into dust?
☆pairings: brother's best friend!Jungkook x younger sister!female reader
☆rating: 18+ (minors DNI, some chapters have mature content)
☆genre: forbidden love?au, college!au, slice of life!au, smut, angst (as usual a lot of it), fluff
☆warnings: alcohol consumption, curses
☆word count: 1.1k
☆a/n: teaser time babyyyy!! I hope you guys love it :') thank you to @moonleeai and @jessikahathaway for beta-ing, you guys are the best <3
☆series masterpost
☆add yourself to the taglist here!
☆☆☆☆☆
If I lay here If I just lay here Would you lie with me and just forget the world?
Chasing Cars, Snow Patrol
☆☆☆☆☆
The hour is late. Jungkook is tipsy, far more than he thought he’d get tonight, but then again, Taehyung is not in a better state, and Sera, Jimin’s girlfriend, had to force him to go home before they got too drunk.
They’re all supposed to help Taehyung’s little sister move in tomorrow, Jungkook included.
“Man,” Taehyung lets out, and Jungkook looks away from the game of Smash they’re playing - that he’s majestically losing - to focus on Taehyung.
“What?” he lets out.
“Can’t believe Y/n will be here tomorrow,” Taehyung answers.
“Can’t believe you’re forcing me to live with a girl.”
Taehyung chuckles. “Don’t worry, Y/n is chill.”
Jungkook doesn’t doubt she is, considering how well he gets along with Taehyung, and Taehyung’s made it seem that he gets along well with his sister. He imagines Y/n’s just going to be a mini Taehyung, which frankly could be fun to have around.
But he doesn’t know anything about her other than the fact that she is Taehyung’s little sister.
“You know,” Taehyung adds as the game finishes. “I meant to tell you something.”
Jungkook cocks his pierced eyebrow in question. “Yeah?”
“Just wanted to say that if you touch my sister, you’re fucking dead.”
Jungkook bursts out laughing, shaking his head, but Taehyung remains entirely serious. Like he meant what he just said - could he?
“You’re joking right?” Jungkook asks as his laughter fades away.
“No, I’m dead ass,” Taehyung insists. “You breathe in her direction, and you’re dead.”
“Damn.” Jungkook widens his gaze, and then picks up the beer he’s been slowly drinking since Jimin left. “Understood.”
Hell, Jungkook knows that he sleeps around. Taehyung does the same - he can’t help but understand Taehyung when he says to stay away from his sister. And he thinks it’ll be easy. Y/n’s probably just going to be a clueless baby college kid, and though Jungkook doesn’t mind going for younger, he’ll have plenty of new faces to explore once Frosh week starts next week anyways.
So he promises Taehyung he has nothing to worry about, and they play a couple more games before they head to bed.
Jungkook wakes up early the next morning, the sun shining right in his face the most efficient alarm he’s ever used before. He wants to go to the gym before helping Taehyung’s sister, and though he hates being awake so early, he immediately forces himself to get up lest he falls back asleep.
His workout goes well, and he’s pleasantly sore when he heads back home. He’s lucky - he manages to park not too far from the apartment. He’s walking home, gym bag in one hand and his phone in the other, when Taehyung texts him to ask where he is.
Jungkook types ‘Fuck off’, pressing send as his attention is solely on his phone.
Until said phone flies out of his hand as he collides with a girl he didn’t notice, and Jungkook watches in horror as the device falls in a flower bed.
“Shit, I’m so sorry,” you say, and you immediately dive into the flower bed, retrieving Jungkook’s phone. 
You hand it to him, and Jungkook just stares at you, mouth agape. He’s aware he’s staring and that he probably looks stupid, but he’s dumbfounded.
You’re the most beautiful girl he’s ever seen, and he’s seen a lot.
“Don’t worry about it,” he answers quickly when you cock an eyebrow, your cheeks slowly turning red. “I wasn’t looking where I was going.”
“At least it didn’t break,” you say, and you flash him a quick smile.
It does things to his heart that Jungkook barely comprehends - it’s like his heart is going miles a minute, yet it’s soothing, warm, much like the pavement feels in the summer when the sun has just dipped below the horizon.
“Right, yeah,” Jungkook answers, and his cheeks burn.
His cheeks fucking burn, and he wishes he could just disappear, dive below the ground until you can’t see him anymore. You just keep on smiling, eyes never disconnecting from his, and he wonders if you, too, feel like he does.
Shit, he thinks he might even hear bells in the distance.
You glance away, and it’s like he’s falling forward while not moving at all, and all he can do is pathetically clear his throat, as if that’s going to offer any help.
“I see you’ve met Y/n!” Taehyung yells from behind you, and Jungkook freezes.
Jungkook freezes, and then something burns in his lungs, like he’s under the surface struggling for futile oxygen he knows he won’t find.
You are… Taehyung’s sister.
You’re Y/n.
His best friend’s little sister.
The one thing Jungkook can’t have.
It makes him feel cold, his heart suddenly dropping in the Arctic sea amongst the icebergs. 
“We literally ran into each other,” you say, looking back towards your brother.
And Jungkook sees it - your hair is the same shade as Taehyung’s, your face has the same shape. The smile though - your smile is different from Taehyung’s, and maybe that’s why he was fooled.
Fooled for a few seconds which felt like an eternity.
You walk away then, heading to the open back door of a car. You grab a box, and Jungkook puts his phone in his pocket, eyeing a bag on the backseat.
“Do you want me to bring this in?” he asks.
Only because he wants you to look at him again. His heart flutters in his chest when you do, and he forces it down with a swallow as you nod once.
“Yes, please!”
Jungkook nods too, and he grabs the bag before following you in. His right foot lands on the first step leading to the apartment when Taehyung stops him with a hand on his arm.
Jungkook frowns slightly, meeting his best friend’s gaze.
“I’m serious, JK,” Taehyung says through gritted teeth. “You fucking touch her, you’re dead.”
And Jungkook knows right then and there that he’s fucked. Entirely, thoroughly, immensely fucked.
Because he already wants you, and he hasn’t even talked to you for more than twenty seconds.
“Don’t worry,” he reassures Taehyung, and he hopes Taehyung can’t hear how fake he sounds.
How is he supposed to resist indulging in you when he already knows you’re all he’s ever wanted? 
He really is entirely, thoroughly, immensely fucked.
☆☆☆☆☆
Chapter one coming on May 10th, 2024!
What did we think? Are we excited to read?? Let me know here!
All rights reserved to @/oddinary4bts, 2024. Do not copy, repost or translate.
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mrchiipchrome · 2 days
Text
You Always Go To The Parties
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W.C. - 5.7 k
okay so this is the project i've been working on for a little, hope y'all like it:) (also listen to American Wedding by Frank Ocean while y'all read this.)
To clarify, this is a lionesses x r series too, but this is literally just the chapter of introduction so that we can get to know the characters.
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“Do I really have to go? I can’t even drink legally here.” You groan, there was nothing stopping you from collecting your things and getting the hell out of that apartment in Boston, well except the manners instilled in you from an early age. There was nothing you’d like more than to crawl up in bed and sleep for the next few weeks.
No way Emma would let you do that. 
The sophomore defender had been one of the only people that had come back to college early, having been asked to show you around the campus and the facilities. She had quickly taken you under her wing, which meant that she wouldn’t let you sulk in bed the rest of August.
Brown cardboard boxes filled to the brim with different things, ranging from clothes to knick knacks, were stacked to the ceiling in the otherwise empty apartment. You didn’t mind, clearly, but it bothered Em.
You tuck your hands behind your head, staring up at the ceiling from your mattress that was placed directly on the floor. Your button up had the first few buttons undone, the top of your chest displayed for Em to see, you had even put your fancy trousers on for the stupid party you didn’t even want to attend.
“Yes, you really have to. How else do you expect to make friends, your cute British accent will only get you that far, you actually need to put in some effort okay?” Rolling your eyes at her words, you were quickly made to get up off the makeshift bed, getting pushed towards the door.
“But-” 
“No buts, you are going because I need someone to drive me home when I’m black out drunk tonight, you don’t want me to drink and drive right?” You can’t help but contemplate over her words, feeling the girl’s hand come down on your shoulder harshly. 
Clearly she didn’t like that.
“I mean you could just, I don't know…not drink?” She looks at you like she’s disgusted you’d even think about saying something like that, like she has to drink.
“Wow, it really is obvious your parents are rich.” You lock the door up as you look at her through the corner of your eye, a slightly judgemental look in your eyes.
Your parents were rich, but they didn’t spoil you so you weren’t one of those snobby rich kids, you were just like anyone else. Only you had access to more money than most.
“Shut up.” Emma puts her hands up in the air, like she’s surrendering to you, but you see the way she’s smiling slyly at you. Note to self; don’t get defensive when Em brings up your rich parents.
“You know, I could use a new Gucci bag if you want to contact daddy dear.” She looks up at you pleadingly as you make your way to her car, there was no way you’d use your car, it was far too expensive to be left outside a frat house. You really had to get a more beat up one.
Maybe you’d sell it, and donate the money you got for it to charity. 
“Aw, we’re taking my car?” Em whines, clearly she wanted to take your cool car.
“Aw, I’m not leaving my really expensive car outside of a frat house for hours.” You roll your eyes at her almost like she’s stupid, throwing her the keys so that she could drive, you didn’t even know where it was you were going.
“You know, you are really sassy for being a rich kid.” Em pulls out of the garage, the apartment complex you were living in was just off campus, so near that you walked there every day for pre-pre-season training (absolutely destroying Em every single time without fail).
“Yeah well, I grew up in the public education system in London, so that’s where I get it from.” You look on as the girl in the driver’s seat taps her fingers against the steering wheel, waiting for the red light to turn green.
“Really, I would’ve thought that they had you in private school from the second you popped out.” The green light stands out against the quickly darkening sky, starless and rather bleak, but that’s what you get for living in a big city.
“Nope, they wanted me to have a normal childhood, so here I am.” You motion to yourself, feeling the bumps and dips of the road beneath you, damn potholes.
“I mean fair enough right.” A certain quietness envelops the space between the two of you, it wasn’t uncomfortable, just present without any real purpose.
Your eyes slip shut, with Em turning the radio on, playing soft instrumental music like you weren’t in the middle of Boston where most people prefer hip hop and bubblegum pop. That was probably the biggest culture shock you'd been given so far, the music.
At home it was different, in a neutral way. It was neither better nor was it worse, but it was simply different.
You sink into your seat, the cool air blasting across your skin in that refreshing way, the summer’s heat canceled out by the air coming from the car. Slowly, sleep starts to take over your body in that calming sort of way that you’d wished for earlier.
It had only felt like moments since you’d fallen asleep as Em shakes your shoulders to get you to wake up, the pulsing music coming from the frat house a walking distance away already making your ears hurt. You look around at the surrounding nature, it wasn’t familiar to you, not the trees you’d found yourself memorizing nor the architecture present in Boston.
Even the people looked different, shirts with the printing of a dog on the front instead of the three books representing Harvard. Stupid of you to assume that Em would be rational for once.
“Where are we Em?” You ask, voice riddled with a sleepy kind of innocence that suggested that not everything had registered yet.
“We are in Connecticut, home of the huskies and what might be the best parties you’ll ever experience.” Your eyes shoot open wide, a more than flabbergasted look on your face at her naïve words.
“You kidnapped me and then drove me all the way to Connecticut for a party we could just as well have found in Boston?!” You ask her incredulously, like you couldn’t really believe her. And you couldn’t.
“Yeah, technically I did but you’ll also get to experience the party of your lifetime, so I think that it’s fine.” She tries to justify her actions by trying to reason with you, and whilst it doesn’t work in the way she wishes, Emma’s just happy you’re not totally freaking out.
“Come on grumpy, let’s go. Who knows, you might even have some fun.” Em pulls you along towards the house spewing flashing lights in a hundred different colors.
You let your eyes adjust to the blinking lights as you enter through the open front door, seeing the entire bottom floor of the mansion-like house covered with hundreds of students, packed together tightly like a sweaty sardine can.
The house reeks of bad body wash, moldy pits and strong cheap alcohol, and in a sense of the word Em really did tell the truth, you’d never seen anything like it before. It was almost like those frat boys couldn’t afford to buy deodorant.
If your arm wasn’t as firmly attached to your body as it was, you were sure that Emma would’ve torn it off by now, the resistance of the sweaty bodies pushing against your own as she leads you to the kitchen proving to be a difficult task for her weak arms.
Reaching the entrance of the large kitchen, the first thing you notice is that it’s not as tightly packed as the living room, only a few stragglers here and there with the stereotypical red solo cups can be found in every single person’s hand. Future alcoholists.
 “Okay, base rules since you’ve never been to a college party before, don’t take a drink from anyone you don’t know, don’t accept anyone’s request to go upstairs or somewhere private, you’ll most likely get robbed, don’t be too snarky, people don’t appreciate that and… I think that’s all. Have a nice night!” And with that she’s off to the living room, plucking a cup from a random man’s hand and taking a sip before leading him to the dance floor.
Yeah, base rules or whatever.
Standing alone in the kitchen, you suddenly feel so awkward. The only real parties you’d been to were the one’s your friends threw when your parents were away on their stupidly long business trips, just the chaotic friend group drinking together.
So this, college parties, was something that was totally out of your comfort zone and you’d never hated anyone as much as you hated Em right at that moment.
Spotting a boy out of the corner of your eye, you approach him with confident, yet still relatively hesitant steps, a question at the tip of your tongue. He looks up at you when you’re close enough to smell the odor of old spice deodorant and way too much sweat, his hat turned backwards on his head to hide the greasy hair still somehow poking its way through.
You almost feel bad for the poor thing, well that is until his mouth opens and you’re staring into the hell that is a frat boy’s gob. 
“‘Sup dude, what can I do for you?” His eyes run all along your body, from your ankles up to your face where he notices the annoyed expression.
“I was wondering if you had anything non alcoholic.” You smile staley, eyebrows furrowing together when his eyes light up like a kid on christmas. His laugh feels slightly insulting, especially when his hand comes up to point at you, but there’s really not a lot you could do.
“Dude totally, say the thing though.” You look at him confused, like you didn’t know what he meant. Spoiler alert; you did. “Y’know bo'ohw'o'wo'er.” 
He laughs again when you roll your eyes, and even if all you desire is to punch his stupid face in, you still say the phrase. Was it worth it for a coke? Eh, debatable.
He opens the fridge and throws you the can and laughs once more at your dirty look.
Sipping the drink slowly as you make your way around the house, the UConn students around you stare unashamedly at you, like they knew your face from somewhere, but you weren’t familiar per se. 
Your face scrunches up at the metallic taste of the American coke, much preferring the Mexican one they had in the canteen. You couldn’t complain too much though, you were the one who actually let yourself get dragged to the party.
It’s sudden, the way her eyes catch yours. Deep pools of endearing brown that capture your entire soul in a single second. The girl was mesmerizing as she stood leaning against the wall across from you, her long brown hair falling so effortlessly down her back.
Her gaze is just focussed on you for a second or two, her attention soon being stolen by the man standing in front of her, a sleazy smirk on his face as his eyes ran all along her body. It was clear that she was uncomfortable purely by the way her lips were turned downwards and the way her hands fiddled with the hem of her crop top.
There seems to be a lull in their one sided conversation as she looks to you almost pleadingly, getting the hint almost immediately, you walk over with confident steps, dropping the now empty can on the floor on the way.
The man is almost as tall as you, his burly shoulders disproportionate to the rest of his awkward body, his meaty hands gripping the red cup tightly like he was afraid someone would steal it from him. His hooded eyes do a once over when he spots you nearing them, almost turning a green pale at the sight of you.
You don’t understand why, there was no way you knew him and being recognised as Harvard’s newest addition would be unlikely. Especially in Connecticut.
“Everything alright here?” The girl seems startled by your accent, but she quickly schools her features so as to not show her surprise. Her hands wrap around your waist, and when you look down at her she looks back up at you with pleading eyes, asking you to just go along with it for the time being.
Your arm wraps around her shoulders and she leans into your body almost subconsciously, like you’ve known each other for much longer than you have.
“Yeah, everything’s going good.” He says, not backing down despite having been nervous at your mere presence only seconds before.
“Really? Because from where I stood it looked like you were flirting with my girlfriend.” You don’t even get the satisfaction of watching his gummy smile fade from his thin lips as he takes in your words, because he walks away from you before you can see it.
It makes you chuckle, especially since he walks up to another girl almost immediately, getting turned down in the same second.
“You okay?” You question the girl in your arms, her hand still resting on your waist as you take her in. You can feel her hair against your arm, her nails digging into your skin ever so slightly and the rest of her body pressed so tightly against your own.
“Yeah, he just wouldn’t leave me alone, thank you for the help.” She smiles at you sweetly, her brown eyes shining under the flashing lights. You smile back at her softly, noticing the way her grip loosens, you quickly let up on your grip of her shoulders.
Her unsure steps catch your attention as she takes your hand in her soft one, just like Em had done earlier in the evening.
“Where are you taking me?” You laugh through the sentence as she tries to pull you through the crowd of people, stumbling over her feet clumsily every so often.
“Do you like burgers?” She questions hastily, nearly having pulled you all the way to the front door already, she was a lot stronger than Em that’s for sure.
"Doesn't everyone?” You smile goofily when she looks back at you, her eyes narrowed playfully when you send her a wink. It’s only when you’re already out the door that you realize that Em is still in there, with people you don't know. Strangers.
You stop walking, the girl’s hand still in yours as she too stops, looking back at you confused.
“I’m sorry but my friend, Em, is still in there and I don’t want to leave her alone with strangers.” Her eyes light up again and you look at her weirdly, not understanding why she looked so happy that you had to leave.
“Em Whitmore?” She giggles at the shocked look on your face, clearly you didn’t know much about Em, the girl thinks to herself. You look at her suspiciously, how did she know Em?
“Yeah…how’d you know?” You ask her, still suspicious of her pretty intoxicated form. Her laugh carries all throughout the empty night, no one out and about except you and the mystery girl who’s soft hand is still in yours.
“I know her brother, she comes to a lot of parties here, because she knows she’ll be safe.” The brunette starts pulling you along again and you let yourself follow her, no longer worried about your Harvard counterpart. Her brother wouldn’t let anything bad happen to her.
By the time you reach the 50’s themed diner, you’ve already walked for ten minutes, side by side with the dark haired girl. You’re lucky that it wasn’t too far away, the half stumbling girl beside you probably wouldn’t have been able to walk that far without falling over.
The bell at the top of the door chimes when she pushes it open, the bored looking cashier perking up when he sees your companion. It was empty in the diner and you couldn’t imagine that keeping it open for this long wasn’t only for the drunk college students looking for a quick snack.
She drags you over to a booth in the corner, decorated in red and white stripes, a glass with straws standing in the middle of the table with a napkin holder beside it.
“Welcome to Donna’s Diner, what can I get for you?” The boy from the counter comes up to the booth after you’ve both settled, handing the two of you plastic menus. The dark haired girl smiles up at him, that fantastic glint in her eye once more.
“Come on now Alex, no need to be all professional.” You look up at him from where you’re sitting, his blonde hair curling around his ears, green eyes staring into yours kindly, thin fingers clasping the small notebook in his hands.
“Alex, this is my new friend, she knows Callum’s little sister, mystery friend, this is Alex and he’s in one of my classes.” You smile at him softly, sticking your hand out for him to shake, and he does take it in a confident grip, sending you a smile of his own.
“I’m Y/n.” Now the mystery girl looks up at you, finally a name attached to your face.
“Nika, I already know what you want, but how about you?” He looks to you when he speaks, obviously you wouldn’t know what to order, it being your first time there and all.
“I’ll just have whatever she’s having with a chocolate milkshake.” Alex disappears behind the counter again, your eyes following his retreating form. Looking away from the kitchen door, your eyes quickly meet the ones of the girl you now know as Nika.
One of her hands was tucked under her chin, keeping her head up in order to look at you. Relaxing into the cushions behind you, the small smile slowly taking over your face suddenly becomes full blown.
“What is it?” She giggles under her breath at your inquisitive look, and despite not knowing much more than her name, you already felt like she knew your soul inside and out.
“Nothing…it’s just that this is the last place I would’ve thought that you would bring me to.” The furrow in her brow is frankly quite adorable, her head turning to the side just in time to catch Alex walking out the kitchen with your food. 
You see the way her eyes light up again, the platter of pure greasy goodness at the center of her attention right at that moment. All you could think about at that second was how thankful you were that the season hadn’t started yet, because everything there broke every single diet you could think of.
Looking to the brunette, the laugh bubbling up from the pit of your stomach is almost one of wonder, because the beautiful girl had already managed to get through half the burger that was in front of her. It seemed like her intoxicated brain only was focussed on one thing, satiating her hunger.
It isn’t long until you follow her lead, picking up the burger and just trying to get the most you could of it in your mouth. You can’t help the groan that escapes you when the exquisite flavours hit your taste buds all at once, having to lean back into the cushions of the booth to be able to take it all in, closing your eyes fully to enhance the experience even further.
It’s only when she laughs that you finally open your eyes again, only to see her looking right at you like you were made of glass, like she could read you like a book and then play you like a fiddle.
“I understand, I had the exact same reaction when I tried it.” She continues to giggle at you when you start to eat like a poor man starved. It was a funny sight to be fair, the way your fancy act completely disappears when in contact with amazing food.
“How’d you even find this place?” You question her when you’ve swallowed and wiped your mouth off with a napkin, you still had manners after all. She smiles at you, gesturing at your surroundings, at the tables and the booths, the chairs and the ketchup bottles, at everything.
“I was drunk after a party once in freshman year and I just stumbled across it.” You nod in response, completely understanding the randomness of how she’d found the place. When you’re drunk, all you want is some greasy food.
“So it’s a well guarded secret between the students then? I assume there’s usually more people here at this time of night.” You take a sip of the milkshake when the last word has fallen from your lips, heat spreading across your face at the intense look you’re getting from the brunette in front of you.
It’s probably just because she’s drunk, you think quietly to yourself, almost trying to convince your mind that the stupidly attractive smile on her face was just one of momentary value, that it was only because it was late and you were tired that it affected you in the way it did.
“Yeah, something like that.” She responds, a comfortable silence enveloping you two as you continue to eat.
The only thing that could be heard was the murmur of the fan across the room, the patting of the fingers of the boy, Alex, at the counter and the sound of shallow breathing. Well that was until her accented voice breaks it with a question.
“So, how’d you manage to befriend the girl with the scariest brother ever?” Nika asks you, her fingers playing with the napkin she’d taken only moments before. Her teeth capture her bottom lip softly as she looks at you tentatively, she’s positively driving you nuts with her pure unfiltered beauty.
“Well, for starters we both play football for Harvard, but she was the first one there to greet me, to help me pack up the necessities and all that. She never did mention a brother though.” You relish in the way she looks at you, all flustered and sweet despite you not having done anything in particular. It was adorable. Pause.
She nods absentmindedly, opening her mouth to speak before closing it and then opening it again, resembling a fish out of water more than anything.
“Were you going to say something love?” You ask the now blushing girl, and she hides her face in her hands at the embarrassment, clearly having zoned out for a little while there.
Reaching over, you pat her shoulder comfortingly before you ask her your next question.
“How about you? How do you know Em’s brother?” Nika reaches over the table to steal a few of your fries, laughing at the betrayed look on your face.
Maybe it was the drinks or maybe you were just funnier than you’d originally thought, either way the angelic sound of her laughing had graced your ears many times that evening. Not that you minded, you didn’t even mind a little bit.
“He plays basketball, I play basketball, and sometimes we train together.” You can’t help the feeling taking over you, the burning feeling that makes you question everything you’d ever known about yourself. Just the thought of your friend’s brother getting to enjoy her company makes the feeling inside you that much worse.
 It seems like she sees the way your expression changes just that little bit before it goes back to normal.
“So, you’re like…close?” You ask the basketball player timidly, rolling your eyes only seconds later when the brunette decides to take a sip of your milkshake.
“No, not especially close. I mean, we talk when we have to at the shared training sessions, but not outside of it. But realistically though, who in the world of college sports doesn’t know Callum Whitmore?” Looking at her cluelessly, you sarcastically shrug as if to say you, because you truly hadn’t known a single thing about the man before she had told you.
By the third time Nika reaches for your fries, you decide to just push them towards her and let her have them, you weren’t even hungry after the monster burger you’d just consumed. It wasn’t at all just because she was too pretty not to get whatever she wanted. Pause.
“You want to switch?” She gestures to your drinks, she’d gotten a strawberry milkshake that she didn’t seem to fancy all that much right at that moment. Sighing goodnaturedly, you give her a nod and allow her to take whatever was left of your shake, smiling softly as you sip absentmindedly at the pink shake she’d given you. 
Soon enough, the only thing that could be heard over the natural noise of the diner was the slight slurping every so often.
“I just got to go wash up, then I’ll walk you home, okay?” The brunette nods as she looks at you leaving, pulling out her phone to seemingly start to text someone not long after.
You walk up to Alex, who’s still standing at the counter and he smiles in your direction when you near, only seeing you out of the corner of his eye. Pulling out your wallet, you hold out your card to him.
��Could you do a to go order? God knows she’ll need that in the morning.” You nod your head in Nika’s direction, Alex smiling widely at you.
“You know, I’ve never seen her with you before…” His voice trails off, as if to tell you to fill in the blanks.
“Yeah, we only met tonight.” You smile at him staley, not understanding why the timeline of events was so important.
“You must be special then if she brought you here, it’s not often she brings anyone other than her friends here after a night out. Nico, drop me two burgers on the grill, one choc milkshake and a strawberry one.” As you walked towards the bathroom of the establishment, putting your card back in your wallet, you started to think about his words, wasn’t this place well known? What made it so special to Nika that the server had to point out how she never brought strangers there?
Wiping your hands off on your trousers, you go up to your table to collect Nika before swinging by the counter to pick up your to-go order, the brown paper bag looking out of place next to the two of you. It seems like she’s sobered up at least a little as she looks at you questioningly, her eyes soon falling to the bag in your hands and then back up at your face.
The bell chimes again when the two of you exit the diner, the cooling air of the late night a contrast to the warm atmosphere of the diner.
“What’s that for?” The furrow in her brow is so endearing that you almost feel the skip in your heartbeat, her eyes narrowing at you ever so slightly. Her arm threads through yours, one of your hands in the pocket of your trousers, creating the perfect space for her arm to go through.
You sneak a glance at her, flyaways being highlighted by the streetlights you were passing. Her head meets your shoulder as you start to walk back to the party, her apartment couldn’t be too far from it considering she hadn’t mentioned anything when you offered to walk her home.
“It’s for you, I just know that hungover Nika is going to crave Donna’s diner’s milkshakes to calm her raging headache.” You tease her softly, but there was definite truth there either way.
If there was one thing you knew about being hungover, then it was that good food usually helped at least a little (well, after the spells of throwing up everything from the previous night.) You give her a cheeky smile as you near the party once more, the booming music being heard from miles away. 
“Thank you, you didn’t have to do that.” She speaks sincerely, you just smile at her in response, did you have to do it? No, but she’d kept you company all night so you did it anyway.
“Hey, can I just stop by my friend’s car before I walk you home? I just have to get something.” You were so thankful that you’d stolen the keys from Em before you went into the party only hours before. Leading her to the beat up truck, unlocking it and opening the door, you place the bag on the ground before you look through the glove compartment.
Finding the cartridge of painkillers and the pen that you were searching for with a small ‘aha’. The post-it notes Em always kept in her car finally came to use when you stole one, writing a quick message on it before sticking it to the plastic of the painkillers and dropping it down the brown paper bag.
You lock the car up, despite it being a piece of shit that no one would ever steal, Em always insisted on you locking it. 
Walking up to her side once more, you open your mouth to speak.
“So, lead the way home love.” You gesture for her to take the lead, it was her apartment after all. Taking your free hand in hers, the girl starts to lead you towards her apartment building, walking calmly side by side with your hands swinging between your bodies.
After passing countless trees, and even more cars, you suddenly find yourselves at the bottom of the slanted hill leading up to where she lives, and when you actually start to walk up the long walkway, it’s slowly almost like you’re both resisting the natural order of events.
But you had to leave her, both Em and Harvard were waiting for you and no matter how much you tried to resist, you knew that’s ultimately where you had to go, it was your life even if the girl you’d just met seemed far more interesting than anything.
When you reach the top, just meters away from the door, you hand her the bag, smiling timidly when she reached out to hug you, her inviting perfume enveloping you in a blanket of warmth. When she pulls away, she thanks you one last time for your kindness.
“Really, it’s no problem.” You reassure her, smiling softly when she turns back towards you one last time before the distance between you becomes larger and larger, her fingers soon punching in the code to open the door.
“Wait!” You call out for her right as she’s about to enter the building, her head turning back to you questioningly. “Don’t forget to put it in the fridge when you get in.” She smiles and nods before disappearing behind the door.
You start your walk back to the party a few minutes after the door has closed, something just keeping you rooted to the ground. It wasn't until you heard your name get called by that familiar voice that you turned around, seeing Nika through her open window, waving at you as you walked away.
It almost felt like you were in some cheesy romance movie as you waved back, turning to walk away after she closed her window. 
Truth be told, the evening had felt like something straight out of a romcom and some part deep down loved it. It loved the cheesy moments of pure unbridled love, the ability to express yourself freely, to dance in the rain, be your true authentic self in front of someone else was something you didn’t even know you longed for before you met Nika.
You shove your hands into the pockets of your trousers, every step you take moving you closer and closer to the frat house, closer to Em and closer to getting back to Boston.
Seeing Em sitting out on the steps of the house has you confused, why was she out there?
“Em? What are you doing out here?” You ask the clearly incredibly intoxicated Emma, your loud voice not even startling her, her slow movements showing just how drunk she is. The squeal she lets out when she sees you has you covering your ears, the intrusive sound killing your tired head.
She tries to stand up, but it just looks like Bambi on ice, stumbling and falling at every second. You come up and sling her arm around your shoulder, bringing her over to her car and sitting her down in the passenger seat.
“I’m not cleaning up if you throw up in here, just so you know.” She nods drunkenly, clearly not understanding a word you were saying.
“The reason why I was sitting outside is a long story.” She leans her head against the window, and knowing Em, she was probably imagining herself in a music video right at that moment.
“You can tell me tomorrow.” The car starts with a rumble and you pull out of the parking space on the side of the road, quickly pulling out and starting to drive on the main road.
It’s quiet for a while and you almost believe that Emma’s asleep, well almost since her feet move back and forth against the floor every so often.
“Where were you huh? What were you doing?” Her words are incredibly slurred and you can barely make out what it is she’s trying to say.
“None of your business mate.” She snickers at you, reading way too much into your response than she should have.
“You got some.” The way your face turns red doesn’t help your case even in the slightest, especially when she herself points out your reddening cheeks.
“Shut up and go to sleep, Em.” Your voice cracks in the middle of the sentence, still embarrassed by her insinuation.
“Mhm, you totally got some pussy.” You sigh as she laughs again, she was clearly getting a lot more joy from the situation than you were.
“Go to sleep Em.”
“Mhm.”
Maybe she had been right after all, maybe you had fun and maybe, just maybe the decision to go to the party was a good one. Not that you’d ever let her know that.
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sunkissed-zegras · 13 hours
Note
I’m just saying…. headcannons for paige with a bestfriend to partner who’s an introvert.
And I mean those introverts who seem quiet but the moment they get comfortable around you it’s over, but like only they get to see that side.
Paige seems like an extrovert that adopts introverts, like just imagine her having to drag her partner out of their room all the time cuz they’re a damn hermit.
-🐹
─ warnings | mention of drinking, teasing, fluff, nothin' else?
─ taglist | @xocherishxo @iienstein @yazmunson @euphternal and here's a link to my taglist if anyone would like to join!!
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honestly, you are so right in that assumption
she definitely gets closer with more introverted people, bc opposites DO really attract
when you guys first met it was your freshman year at uconn, at first you'd probably think she's WAY too much ─ maybe even cocky LOL (but who can blame her she's the best)
but when you spend more one on one time with her, you realize she's really funny and sweet
because you're so quiet, paige would be naturally drawn to you cus she gets to know you
so she just pesters you until you eventually give in and hang out with her
from that point on, the one is never seen without the other
you guys would always be together
but like... usually, you're just WITH paige so people don't really acknowledge you cus you're so quiet
but then paige would like force you to socialize
"this is y/n, i promise she's fun you just gotta put a little liquor in her-" "PAIGE."
she would push you toward her close friends the most, def like ice, azzi, nika and kk
ESPECIALLY kk!
and then you eventually would get really close with them, you all have your cute little friend group
you and ice would make fun of paige and kk together, you and azzi are kinda similar so you find yourself hanging out with her alone a lot more, and nika would force you out your shell a lot too
after a couple months of being friends, paige would definitely find herself catching feels
like i've said in my other headcanons, she just thinks you're such a big source of comfort for her and it slowly just becomes full-on adoration cus
she adores you
and you compliment her personality so well she is just like "i NEED to have her right now"
she ends up confessing one night after a really terrible game and then y'all kiss ...
and the rest is history 🤗🤗🤗
jk here's some relationship headcanons
again, you are so right nonnie
like i mentioned, one is never seen without the other
so you're always tied at the hip, especially at parties
at first she has to force you
like FULL force
she calls backup ofc ice and kk come and then its 3 vs 1
they end up winning
and this happens time and time again, you just get so worn down you'd rather just endure the damn party then listen to all three of them scream at you
which was the goal 🥰
and you're definitely the sober one 95% of the time so you will be taking care of a very drunk paige
(maybe some separate headcanons for her if yall want)
and sometimes even ice/kk but it's mostly just your girlfriend
anyway, yeah you take her home, take of her and then get her into bed
and when you try to leave she will be so dramatic, she forces you to stay with her
you don't mind cus you love cuddly paige
but the 5% when you're the one who's blackout drunk, paige is gonna take such good care of you
because you're so introverted when you're sober, you're probably gonna be such a rowdy drunk
yes im her shes me
so paige makes sure you don't get into trouble and gets you home safe and sound
but if you do something stupid, she will never ever let you live it down
"remember that time you jumped into the pool and-" "SHUT THE FUCK UP"
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↳ make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !
↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡
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miserycanary · 1 day
Text
PERSISTS IN DELUSION ᡣ𐭩 previous ⤶
pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley & reader 
synopsis: you've left and what was left of Ghost (pt.2)
tags: I really don't know whether to tag this as fluff or angst 
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The clock hanging by the wall ticks persistently like a bomb waiting to break Ghost’s delusion that you’ll come back. Ever since that night, he has spent his time like a literal ghost. Barely eating, barely moving, barely living without you. 
With each heavy step that he takes toward your shared bedroom—now bare—the pain in his chest drags him. “I’m home, baby..” he gruffs at the presence he tricked himself to think was still there. Dropping his things by the door, he moves so slowly and plops himself at the mattress that is now cold.. Like how it always was before you came into his life and warmed his whole body and soul. 
Ghost isn’t a crier. Never was. He took all the beatings from his father without letting a single tear fall. He didn’t shed shit when he had to force himself out of the grave he was put in alive. Not even when he left with no family and had to witness that moment with his own eyes. Ever since then, he has swore to heaven and earth that they will never take anything from him again. Depriving himself of anything that could tie him down emotionally.
Then suddenly there was you in all your glory.
Face painted similarly to his as you hand the kids celebrating Día de Muertos candies. Ghost never thought he’d take a step back in this country but as if tugged by fate, he found himself surrounded with the similar decorations that started his nightmare. Yet all he could zero out on was you. And that moment, Ghost knew that heaven and earth were snickering at him, mocking him for what he swore long before was now forgotten. 
As the crown dissipates, he takes all the scuffed pieces of his heart. “That’s a pretty flower,” he grumbles. He sees the way you flinch at the sudden person, turning around to see his towering self. Simon wasn’t stupid and he knew how intimidating he looked and expected you to be scared. His apology is already at the tip of his tongue. 
“Thank you! Do you want it?” He stills, blinking at the unexpected reaction. “O-oh, yeah, thank you.” You, on the other hand, expected the giant of a man to take the delicate flower with roughness, even expecting some petals to fall yet he took it so gently. Simon plucked the stem from your hand, placing it on the wide expanse of his palm and leaning lower to expect it. “Pretty..” he mutters, and you almost agreed if not for the way he said it with his eyes on you. 
Time passed and you guys were intertwined, lives and love exchanged throughout the two years he was with you. 
Ghost fully expected you to run when he first told you about himself, but you stayed. You tore down his walls with patience and care, showing empathy for what he has gone through but never pity and that made him fall deeper. Now Ghost would be lying if he said he has relationship experiences but he knew that if he doesn’t take this opportunity, then he’d lose you before he even had you (he lost you either way). 
But what could he do now? What’s done has been done. He could learn about a relationship all he wants but who matters the most to him is gone. With a new profound energy, he pulled himself up, opening the drawer beside him. He shuffles through the pile of things before pulling out what he was looking for. Sighing, he opens the box and stares at the engagement ring. 
Taking you for granted was not his intention. When you started to cook him meals, take care of the dishes, and everything else, he thought this was the norm. His duty was just to spoil his pretty girl. He never found anything wrong with the dread and exhaust that paints your face everyday because he was used to the heavy weight and assumed everyone was like that. You never complained, so he thought everything was fine. 
And he never wanted to snap back at you. He knew all about the sacrifice you did and gave for him, and how much you went through just to stay with him. He watches your eyes dim each time he tells you that you guys have to move once again or how broken you were when he found you at the hands of someone who wanted him dead. Loving him and being loved wasn’t easy but you did it with no complaints. 
Now he had to go out and be stupid, letting you slip from his fingers just because he couldn’t carry his weight for some measly housework. The very next day that you left the house, staying somewhere who knows where, he bought a dishwasher and hired a cleaner. Try as he might to do the housework just to please you, he knows that his time won’t allow it. So, he tried his best to work around it with the hopes that you’ll come back, but where were you? 
He has called your number multiple times after giving you enough space but no calls were returned. You were coming back to him, right? You won’t leave him, right?
You’ll still love him, right? You will. Ghost smiles softly to himself, kissing the ring while a shy tear slips. “You’ll look so pretty with this ring, darling…” he whispers to the presence that he tricked himself was still there.
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꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱: this is so long overdue. Sorry for the person who requested this because it took me this long!! 📩
dividers by @cafekitsune
Please reblog!! Ask is open! 
check out my other works in the masterlist: ୭!
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Hear ye, hear ye! I come with a spicy request most worthy of a several year sentence in Horny jail! XD
Bottom villain x top hero, where the two are in an enemies with benefits kinda situationship, and this time seems like it’s gonna be no different (rough and kinda mean). But then, gasp, it’s revealed the villain was recently injured, and the hero gets pretty concerned. The villain insists on things continuing as normal, but the hero, not wanting to hurt their nemesis, changes things up, and does em sweet, slow, and gentle <3
“Ready?” All it took was this one word to activate the villain’s entire nervous system.
Usually, the hero didn’t lose many words over this. It was quick and rough. For the most part, that made it desirable. Sleeping with the enemy was thrilling and more or less like an adrenaline kick for the villain. It was a luxury they could afford. It didn’t mean anything. It didn’t have to either.
The hero was proficient and smart. They had figured out what the villain liked and what they didn’t like in the first few hookups they had spent together. If it hadn’t been for their stupid righteousness and their sense of justice that would never be just, they would’ve probably made a great partner. In bed at least.
Admittedly, the villain had thought about that a few times. Would the hero be a good lover? Someone who was willing to save everyone if they could? Someone who would put others before themselves constantly? Someone who may choose a city over a person?
After all, probably not. And even if they were, who would want the villain? Someone rotten, someone broken, someone—
“You’re distracted.”
“Oh, yes. Yeah, sorry.” The hero’s hand ran along the villain’s inner thigh and even though the stitches should have been good enough, the villain was nervous.
How on earth was anyone supposed to stitch the back of their thigh anyway?
They grabbed the hero’s muscly shoulders and tried to steady themselves.
“Alright.” The hero’s hand travelled down the villain’s thigh until they reached their knee. From there, they grabbed the hollow of the villain’s knee. “I have a meeting in an hour, so I’ll need to be quick today.”
“Yes, of course,” the villain said. They watched as the hero handled their leg and put it on their own shoulder. Cold air hit their shin but they knew in a few seconds, they wouldn’t even need the blanket anymore. The villain swallowed and prayed the hero wouldn’t notice the stitches.
Although they pressed a soft kiss to the villain’s thigh, they barely broke eye contact. Immediately, the villain felt the blood rush to their head.
Sometimes they really needed the hero.
After a few more kisses, the hero leaned forward until the villain’s thigh was pressed between their naked chests. They were close again, close enough to kiss but the villain knew their nemesis never really did that. Kissing their body? Sure. Kissing the villain? On good days, maybe.
The villain found the position familiar and yet, their wound made it nearly impossible to enjoy it.
Eventually they pulled the hero closer, waiting for them to push themselves into them.
However. The thread snapped and the villain could feel how the wound ripped open again.
They let out an involuntary sigh and held onto the villain’s back. Accidentally, they left scratch marks on their enemy’s skin.
“Wait, I haven’t even…”
“No, it’s fine, sorry. Continue. Please,” the villain choked out between clenched teeth.
“Oh…wait, holy shit.” The hero looked down and all the villain had to see was smeared blood on the hero’s hand. “Was that me!?”
“Nononono, I’m so sorry. That was yesterday.”
“I’m gonna get a towel.”
“No.” The villain grabbed them before they could go. “I look forward to this day every week. Let’s just finish this quickly, the bleeding isn’t even that bad.”
“Listen, I know you’re strong but…” The hero put their hand on the cut to stop the bleeding. It wasn’t too bad but the pain was still excruciating. “…having sex while bleeding is counterproductive.”
“We’re already naked and you don’t have much time left.”
“I can cancel my meeting.”
“Please, let’s just—”
“As stubborn as ever, I suppose.” The hero made an expression close to a warm smile and at first, the villain didn’t quite understand. However, when the hero pushed the blanket against the wound and themselves into the villain at the same time, the villain couldn’t help but moan happily.
The hero’s fingers were gentler and their movements slower than usual. As if the villain was something very delicate.
“This is stupid,” the hero whispered. “Tell me if anything’s wrong.”
But the villain could barely listen. Despite the pulsating wound in their leg, they could only concentrate on the sweet pleasure the hero was giving them. It felt better than expected.
And then the hero leaned over, pressure still on the wound, to kiss them.
The villain had never felt this desired in their entire life. Their heart was pounding in their chest when they felt the hero’s tongue in their mouth.
They didn’t demand anything, they didn’t take anything. It was simple and raw pleasure that the hero gave them. As if they’d been waiting for this.
“You’re so stupid, do you know that?” the hero whispered against the villain’s skin when they had to catch new air.
“Oh, I—” The villain couldn’t even form a sentence. Their enemy was hitting good spots constantly. Instinctively, they reached for the hero’s neck to pull them closer.
“Promise me to tell me next time, got it?” the hero asked. They planted a trail of kisses down the villain’s throat and sucked on their skin softly.
“If you treat me like this again,” the villain answered between moans. They couldn’t think anymore. It felt better than it should have.
It felt good enough to fall in love.
The villain wanted to hate them for it. For their gentleness and their sweet voice but all the villain had on their mind was their nemesis on top of them.
“Every night, if you want to,” the hero promised. They smiled against the villain’s skin.
“I love you,” the villain mumbled. They hadn’t realised it. They wouldn’t even remember it.
But the hero would remember. And it was all they could think about for the next few months.
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miinatozakiii · 2 days
Text
but i’ll love you better, if you let me
son chaeyoung x fem!reader ; angst, smut
synopsis: “you told me your new man don’t make you nut, that’s a damn shame.”
wc: 7.4k
warnings: smut; thigh riding; jealousy ; cheating!! ; readers a meanie lowk; men mentioned ; smoking; cursing; alcohol; lalala whatever else i missed ; not proofread
a/n: happy late chae day!!! ALSO i don't condone cheating… HOWEVER.
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chaeyoung watches you closely, a cigarette perched between your lips as a subtle smirk dances across your features in response to the news.
“boyfriend?” you scoff, almost as if it’s a joke to you. “right.”
furrowing her brows, she looks at you, almost offended.
“what’s with the tone?”
"nothing, nothing...," you mumble, your eyes drilling into hers with intensity. she shrinks under your gaze, just as she always does when you give her that look. you light the end of your cigarette, inhaling shallowly before exhaling a small cloud of smoke.
chaeyoung crosses her arms. “i’m serious.”
“yeah?” you say teasingly, smiling like she’s an idiot. “does this boyfriend have a name?”
“haesol.”
“right.”
she’s a little frustrated at the tone of your voice, plus the little look you give her. the way you pay no mind to this new information – your eyes squinting and the look of incredulity you give her – brushing it off as some stupid, laughable lie ticks a nerve in her.
you inhale deeper, then sigh out the smoke slowly.
“alright, new topic,” you suggest, handing her the cigarette, which she rejects by pushing your wrist away, to your surprise.
“why are you acting like this is some stupid joke? don’t you care?”
yes, you did care. the notion of chaeyoung being involved with a man earned a visceral reaction from you, a combination of disbelief, frustration, and disappointment. the idea honestly seemed preposterous, even laughable, but your reaction had no sign of amusement. if anything, it left a bitter taste in your mouth, worse than any cheap hangover remedy. 
“i do care.”
offering the cigarette to her again, you raise both brows expectantly as you urge her to take it. she reluctantly accepts it from in between your fingers, then holds it to her lips.
you continue, looking away from her now and towards the street, “i just don’t want some guy taking so much of your time, time we could be using to hang out. besides, i don’t know him, you never even mentioned the guy.”
as the anger subsides, chaeyoung's features soften, her expression shifting to one of understanding. in the gentle glow of the setting sun, she’s a little cuter when she looks at you like that, her usual appeal heightened by the softening light.
you glance at her and smirk before looking back at the ground, leaning against the wall of the building behind you. 
the two of you have developed a reputation for being nearly inseparable. whether it's in class or during free time, the two of you are almost always together. chaeyoung was in two of your classes, and not the tedious prerequisite classes offered, the ones that people willingly chose based on their interests: music theory and art history.
you noticed her from first glance, taking note of the pretty girl in your two classes. she was striking; tattoos littered her skin, her unconventional style, and sick piercings. yeah, definitely your type of person, she was bound to lure you. however, you didn’t chase, so instead of actively pursuing her, you opted for more subtle approaches. you'd steal glances in her direction, flash a smile whenever your eyes met, or create chance encounters like accidental bumps or brushed hands, all of which served as silent invitations for her to make the first move.
from the moment you shared your first cigarette in the streets at night – outside your now favorite bar as a way to escape the rest of your classmates – a strong connection formed. 
chaeyoung hands you the cigarette back; you inhale deeply again, letting the smoke fill your lungs.
“if he’s uglier than you i won’t accept it.” you mutter, knowing you won’t because there’s no one more striking than her. 
“people are more than just looks you know.”
“that only applies to women.”  you grin. “now, let’s go get dinner. i’m hungry.”
she rolls her eyes at you and playfully pushes your shoulder before swiping the cigarette from your fingers. you chuckle at her reaction, then tilt your head, silently urging her to walk with you to a nearby restaurant down the street.
-
you shouldn’t have gone out with san and wooyoung, especially not on a thursday night because now it’s friday morning and you can still feel the hangover.
you wait on a bench at the little park on campus, the ache in your head still present even after your first class, despite gulping down a bottle of water and two advil tablets prior to it. 
chaeyoung asked to meet there, talking about some “surprise” she had. 
after waiting five minutes you finally feel your phone buzz in your hand, seeing the notification pop up on the top of the screen.
[11:28pm]
chaeyoung: i’m here
chaeyoung: to your left
you turn your head, noticing your best friend walking alongside a taller man, their hands interlocked. your stomach churns at the sight – you almost throw up in your mouth. taking a deep breath, you rise from your seat and make your way over to them, meeting them in the middle of the sidewalk.
chaeyoung had told you about him two weeks ago, even mentioning him here and there but you didn’t think you’d actually meet him, not now.
he wears a small – clearly forced – half-smile, one that you have the urge to wipe off his face. his hair is a messy, platinum blonde, with roots starting to show. a loose-fitting black tee drapes over his frame, paired with dark, baggy jeans. he’s also taller than you, maybe two or three inches taller, but not crazy tall. he's not the worst-looking guy, but you can't help but feel a twinge of disappointment.
“people are than just looks you know,” her words repeat in your head – you try to consider them.
“haesol, this is y/n. she’s my closest friend.” she says, then looks at you with sparkles in her eyes. “y/n, this is haesol, my boyfriend.”
“boyfriend, right.” you respond, tone acidic.
“you’re the best friend?”
the best friend? yeah, you’re not really fond of the way he said that. but to be fair, your tone wasn’t as nice either.
“yeah.” you force a friendlier expression after glancing over at chaeyoung, smiling at haesol now. “it’s nice to meet you.”
“same here.” 
it’s undeniably awkward, with chaeyoung by his side and your unpreparedness to face – well, him. you can’t help but glance at their locked hands, immediately looking away after it had disgusted you enough.
chaeyoung clears her throat before saying, “um, y/n, i was just wondering if you would like to get lunch with us? the two of you can get to know each other.”
a little sigh leaves your lips because really, you don’t want to know him any more than you do. but lunch with chaeyoung is something you can never pass up, especially when she’s looking at you all hopeful and shooting a little pout.
“i’m down, yeah.”
“great.” she says, “perfect.”
you and haesol make eye contact again before chaeyoung pulls him away, expecting you to follow.
-
to keep it brief, lunch was alright. it was rather quiet, unlike your usual conversations with chaeyoung, which are filled with laughter and tend to be more lively. with him there, you felt somewhat out of place, finding his stupid looks at chaeyoung irritating and the constant touchiness made you lose most your appetite.
when haesol was distracted by his phone or momentarily left the conversation, you found it easier to simply talk to chaeyoung. however, as soon as he looked back at her, you would fall silent again. 
you found his demeanor too blunt and his tendency to boast about himself irritating. his lack of attention to chaeyoung while she was speaking, instead focusing on his phone, only added to your irritation, making you scrunch your brows and send judgy looks.
“y/n, why don’t you tell him about yourself?” chaeyoung says to break the random moment of silence as you all eat. 
you blink, swallowing the rice you had been eating. “oh, like what?”
haesol seemed more focused on the food in front of him, paying little attention to the conversation. chaeyoung, on the other hand, noticed the lack of information being shared about you, which confused her. to her, you were the most interesting person in the room.
“haesol, you know y/n is in a band?”
you ‘re quick to cut her off, “it’s just a gig, not that serious. just… extra money.” you widen your eyes at her, tightening your jaw to send a little message. 
“oh, that’s cool i guess.” he says, shrugging at you. 
“she plays guitar and sings–”
“it’s just a side thing.” you say sternly. 
haesol doesn’t notice the look you give chaeyoung, too unbothered by your presence as a whole. you give him a little look before crossing your arms.
“haesol,” you begin.
he finishes chewing and swallows before humming a “ hm?”
“what do you like about my best friend?”
he pauses, thinking to himself (you would’ve answered without hesitation).
“she’s cute and every time i talk to her she listens and laughs you know. she’s hot.”
“right.” you mumble, then look over to chaeyoung, who’s smiling like an idiot. “okay.”
his phone – which had been set on the table for once – started to ring. you eye him as he picks it up, answering with a snarky tone that you hate; the urge to punch him in the face eats you up, but you manage to hold back.
you can’t do this, he’s not any of the few men you tolerate, everything about him pisses you off. you’re going to burst any moment and it’s better to let the fire die down.
“i should get going.” you suddenly speak, not caring that he’s listening to someone through the phone. “i have things to do. sorry chaeng.”
“you haven’t finished your food.” she says, furrowing her brows.
you shrug. “not hungry anymore. you two have fun.”
chaeyoung doesn’t get another word in, you’re already up and ready to go by the time she opens her mouth. haesol doesn’t bat an eye, letting you leave without questioning it.
-
from then on, whenever you and chaeyoung meet alone or with friends, the mere mention of haesol makes you feel a sense of discomfort bordering on nausea. you find yourself growing slightly distant, just enough to create a subtle but noticeable shift in your interactions, especially when haesol is brought up and acknowledged. 
so chaeyoung stops mentioning him, completely disregarding him whenever you’re near because at the end of day she just wants what you two have to be normal. at the end of the day she craves any attention you give her rather than haesol.
and things get more normal from there on out, as long as he’s not involved.
but it still lingers in her mind, you and haesol, you. 
(that’s really complicated to think about, so chaeyoung doesn’t really think on it that much.
but she really should consider why you plague her mind a little more than haesol.
a lot more.)
you look down at your notes, spinning the pencil in between your fingers. “the free response ones, they’re worth more points than the multiple choices, sixty percent. i think we have to apply abstract expressionism to pieces and the text, and then there’s some romanticism that we have to use. it should be relatively simple if you just bullshit it with the examples given but–”
you look up again, chaeyoungs eyes drill into your whole being. 
“what?’
she frowns. “you don’t like haesol, do you?”
“we need to study for the exam chaeng.” you grumble, followed by a sigh.
“you’re avoiding my question.”
sitting back in your seat, you look at her, frustrated. then you drop your pencil down on your notes, cursing under your breath.
“i don’t like your boyfriend, there, happy?”
“why?”
“he pisses me off.”
“did he do something to you?”
“did he need to? do i need a reason? i don’t want to waste my time talking about a man or thinking of one. can we just study?” your voice raises a bit, you’re clearly annoyed; chaeyoung decides to let it go, letting you continue on with what you were saying. “anyways, i think chapter 16 and 17 are what we need to focus on.”
chaeyoung stiffens in her seat. “yeah, okay. i have notes for that.”
“great.”
the atmosphere in the study room becomes heavy, almost suffocating for both of you. even worse is when you both sit in silence, poring over notes, the only audible sounds being the scratch of your pencil against paper as you jot down key terms, and the rhythmic tapping of chaeyoung's foot against the ground. the tension hangs thick in the air, palpable yet unspoken.
you look up again, sighing.
honestly, you feel bad (not really, it’s haesol you’re talking about. but chaeyoung? yeah, you can’t bear to see a frown on that pretty face of hers), but you can’t control how you feel about her boyfriend. about her. 
chaeyoung’s been a little crush, well, maybe little isn’t the right word. you’ve never done anything about it because there wasn’t a need to, it wasn’t clawing at you. not until now at least. 
she’s been available, single, yet you never even thought of asking her out or anything, just small advances and subtle hints to something. 
cigarettes shared in more places than you can count on one hand, letting her hold onto your waist as you drove her home on that motorcycle of yours, carrying her over to someplace safe while she’s batshit drunk, and even lending yourself to her when she needed someone to literally lean on. you let her sprawl all over you, despite hating physical touches from anyone else. 
wasn’t that enough? how dense did she have to be? or really, the question was: were your advances really enough?
and now? god, she has a whole boyfriend, it fucking kills you. the mere thought of him being in her life makes it all miserable, you can’t look at that beautiful face of hers or interact with her normally without that weird feeling in your heart, the feeling hurts you, eats you up inside. it’s all because of her boyfriend, the fact that you can’t have her, even though she deserves you instead of him.
the last thing you want is the feeling of your chest being split into two, so you avoid the thought of haesol as a whole.
(it seems to be failing, considering how often you think of chaeyoung, then of him, and now your whole heart feels like it’s being pounded by a hammer 24/7.)
you break the silence, looking up from the notes chaeyoung had passed to you. parting your lips, you don’t speak, instead, pondering, thinking of what to say. 
as you look at chaeyoung, you can't help but notice the subtle changes in her appearance. her hair is a little shorter than before, framing her face in a new way. but it's the nervous way she rubs at the tattoos on her hands that catches your attention. those tattoos, the ones that litter her hand, are familiar to you, more familiar than you'd care to admit. you’ve thought about them in too many ways, some ways you’re a little too embarrassed to admit.
“did you get a haircut?” you ask, raising a brow.
chaeyoung looks at you in surprise, the tension already sizzling down as the conversation starts. “yeah, just a little off the ends, some touch up’s on the layers.
you pause, then reach to run your hands through her hair.
“it’s cute, i like it.”
chaeyoung smiles, finding herself blushing at the sudden compliment. “thank you.”
“hey, after this, let’s grab something to eat?” she laughs, smiling at how anticipated you are. “of course.”
“let’s head over to shin’s–her bibimbap is good, cheap, and the best i’ve had.”
“okay, okay.” she snickers, grinning. “you pay.”
“yeah yeah, whatever.”
it’s these little moments that saw at the growing tension between you two, surely but slowly. 
and then the two of you laugh in between note taking again, it’s easy to ignore the elephant in the room considering how you two are; oblivious, pining a little more than both of you would like to admit, and too conflicted to even consider confrontation or communication.
as the two of you laugh in between note-taking, it's easy to fall back into the comfortable rhythm of your friendship. you both choose to ignore the elephant in the room considering how you two are—oblivious to the deeper undercurrents, secretly pining for each other more than either of you would care to admit, and too conflicted to even breach the topic of confrontation or communication. so you laugh, you joke, and you carry on, pretending that everything is just as it should be, even when it's far from it.
-
haesol turns his head. “something on your mind baby?”
gross, chaeyoung furrows her brows at the petname, weirdly enough. 
his arm is around her, hand resting on her shoulder and her head rested on his bicep. they’re watching a movie, chaeyoung blinks, responding lowly, “oh, no.”
“seems like it.” haesol says, but doesn’t pry.
you’d pry, you’d do something to make her confess her worries. haesol simply pushes her closer into him, eyes on the screen of the tv.
chaeyoung wants to push aside the strange pounding of her heart whenever she's around you. she wishes she could stop catching herself checking you out, feeling every unfamiliar flutter and pang in her heart. it's all so foreign to her, and it makes her uneasy. she doesn't like the uncertainty, the conflicted feelings swirling inside her chest, the questions without answers, everything that has to do with you. 
sometimes she even wonders what it would be like if you were in haesol’s place, like right now, watching this movie with her, with your arm under her head instead of his. maybe if she was next to you, then maybe her evening wouldn’t feel like such a waste right now.
“i think,” chaeyoung starts, “i think im going to go to sleep. i don’t feel well.”
“what? seriously?” haesol asks, there’s a hint of annoyance in his tone. “um, feel better, drink water or something. i’ll be in bed later.”
chaeyoung forces a smile, pursing her lips a little tighter than she’d like, then walks over to his room, flopping on his bed.
she checks her phone, a text from you pops up.
10:53pm
you: wyd
a small smile forms on chaeyoung’s lips.
chaeng: about to sleep
you: at ten–almost eleven, on a saturday?
you: something up?
chaeng: just not feeling it
you: are you sick? haesol is with you right? is he taking care of you?
her brows furrow; this is the first time you’ve mentioned his name. sure, it was through text, but you acknowledged him. she tucks herself into the blanket and stares at the text before responding.
chaeyoung: we were watching a movie and i felt a little tired, just went back to the room to lay down
you: right
you: you better pick up, im calling
she reads your text, and not even five seconds later feels her phone ring, looking at the contact photo of you in some stupid hat in one of those photobooth pictures, as well as your name pop up in bold on her screen. she presses the green icon, bringing the phone to her ear lazily.
“what’s up?” you ask. she hears a bit of noise in the back, it sounds like you’re at some bar, maybe outside of it, probably with some of your other friends who have a higher tolerance than her. 
“y/n, i’m just tired.”
“right.” you say calmly, she hears the faint sound of you inhaling, then a small exhale. “and that boyfriend of yours isn't taking care of you?”
“we were just watching a movie and i don’t know, i just felt… uneasy.”
“he’s giving you migraines.”
“it doesn’t work like that.”
“thinking of how easy it is to dismiss how you are, the thought of him gives me one.” you admit, “if he weren’t so dense then he’d be with you right now–who finishes a movie by themself? who lets their girlfriend feel sick–alone?”
chaeyoung groans. “why do you care so much about him now? you’re always acting like he doesn’t exist and god– are you, are you drunk?”
“no.” voice firm and stern. 
you lean against the balcony in the outside area of the bar, sighing; you’re a liar, and most definitely drunk. how could you not be after soyeon had coaxed you into those shots? on her tab too.
“why are you sulking.” you question, your voice not so far from a mumble.
"i'm not," chaeyoung is also a liar, she is sulking, her body limp against the mattress as she lays on the bed. she's still processing the events leading up to the movie: her and haesol had made out, one thing leading to another which led to them fucking–and not for the first time, maybe the fifth or sixth time, she can’t remember any of it since it was all so… anticlimactic. she's left feeling a pit in her stomach, even worse than the one after their first night of intimacy.
you can hear the bullshit in her voice, the alcohol takes over your senses and you say, “i’ll be over at the park–you know which one. be there.”
“y/n, what? wait–”
“i‘m not letting you sulk alone, stupid.”
“haesol’s going to–”
“i don’t care.” you spit, “when did i ever?”
you sit at one of the benches, a water bottle in your hand while you try to sober up. to be fair, you’re not off the walls drunk – you can still walk fine, function really well, and honestly, you’re basically fine – but drunk enough to say something a little too bold for your liking. 
the moon is up, pretty full considering it’s the end of the month. it shines down on you, down on your tired features and bothered self because of this whole new problem chaeyoung brought as soon as haesol appeared: an unsure heart.
never were you the type of person to go crazy over some crush, you never let it ruin you, but now, it’s doing just that. 
chaeyoung approaches you, catching the way your hair flows down behind you, a glimpse of your crewneck, and then you turn to the side little as if youve sensed her from behind; chaeyoung looks at you, mesmerized. 
there’s something to be said about your appearance, it’s no wonder you’ve caught many eyes, and especially now, under this glow– and maybe it’s the feeling of seeing someone, you, who doesn’t make chaeyoung uneasy – you look effortlessly wonderful, even if it’s just your side profile facing her.
you turn, smiling like you’ve just seen the rarest star after you catch chaeyoung in your line of vision.
(she’s brighter than a star, much brighter.)
turning back to stare at the lamppost in front of you, chaeyoung sits down, you feel her presence and sense her in your peripheral. then you feel yourself blush, taking in everything in front of you; you smile like an idiot, and idiot head over heels. 
“you are drunk.” chaeyoung says, “liar.”
“you lied first. it’s 1-1.” she crosses her arms, leaning away from you–she’s mad, or at least annoyed–you frown. “hey, what’s up?”
“y/n, you piss me off sometimes you know?”
“what? did i do something?”
she scoffs, looking at you in disbelief. 
“i thought we were best friends, you know? and i could tell you anything, i can tell you anything, i have told you anything. but lately? it’s like, i have to continuously avoid potholes just to keep you from being all pissy.”
you sit up, furrowing your brows in offense. “excuse me?”
“y/n don’t fucking give me that.” she says, tears welling up in her eyes. you stay put, backing down a bit and start to listen. “all i’ve wanted to do is talk about haesol, and you aren’t even willing to do that; you’re the only person i feel like i can talk to about him. and these things? they all bother me, but as soon as i open my mouth and you guess that it’s haesol? you fucking back down.”
“chaeyoung i–”
“do you know how hard it is? the one person i want to talk to and won’t even listen.” she turns away from you, letting her eyes fall to the concrete. “you’re the one person i can turn to, and honestly–it’s embarrassing to admit–but i’ve grown so attached to you, i mean, even when i’m with him; all i think about is you.”
your brain is still foggy, maybe that’s why you’re getting so emotional. the thought of you pushing her away, all because of a man–it’s selfish, so incredibly selfish the more you look on it. 
“i’m sorry.” is all you can utter, looking at her with sympathy and guilt etched on your features. “i’m sorry.”
“you should be.” she’s silent after that, still looking down at the ground while you study her every move and emotion.
she feels a shoulder graze her, then an arm extended behind her back. you push her a little close into you, just enough to make her feel better.
“i’m sorry for dragging you out here and… ignoring everything. i’ve just been really conflicted and i’d really love to tell you why, but i just… can’t.” you confess, looking down at your shoes. “you can tell me anything, always. i never want you to feel like you can’t.”
she turns her head, looking at your face illuminated by the glow of the night and the streetlamp. 
“i hate that you make it so hard to be mad at you.”
“be mad at me, it’s what i deserve.”
“i’ve tried.”
you smile, it’s a little uncertain, but it’s something to clear the air momentarily.
“what’s been going on with haesol?” you pry, it hurts to ask, but for the sake of chaeyoung; you pry.
“god y/n, there’s so much.”
“like?”
she looks at you, then around the park. it hits her that her surroundings are… not her most ideal environment to tell you about haesol, her sex life, and everything that’s been upside down; she doesn’t know where to start.
you read her mind – you always do, somehow – and pause her right where she is.
“maybe we should go to my place, i should be sobered up by then. i hope.
-
the two of you make it to your place, chaeyoung had called a cab because who knows how bad you could get. still, you’re pretty manageable, especially only a few shots. you’ve sobered up completely by the time you reached your place, finding your keys and letting both of you in.
chaeyoung catches a whiff of bourbon, cashmere, vanilla, and amber, with hints of the signature cigarette smell laced within. she makes her way to the little sliding door leading to the small balcony—the same one the two of you always go to when it's late, when you're both tired, and when there's a lot to say. it's a space filled with unspoken words and shared moments, where only each phase of the moon has heard everything you two have to say.
chaeyoung watches you trudge along and lean against the balcony next to her when you arrive. you shuffle through the pocket of your jeans for a box of cigarettes, and she notices that it's half empty. you take one out, then fish for your lighter with a floral design on it. bringing the flame up to the end of the cigarette trapped between your lips, you light it—a routine that chaeyoung could never quite get used to. and honestly, the way you handle the cigarette is hotter than it should be.
smoke leaves your mouth in small increments as you ask, “so, you and haesol?”
“oh, yeah.” chaeyoung says, almost distracted by the way you stare out into space. “we’ve, well…”
“what’s the biggest problem on your mind right now, we can start with that.”
“we– well–” and chaeyoung thinks to herself, thinking of the moments prior to being near haesol and watching that movie, ane even their first night of intimacy. she thinks of how he touched her and how it wasn’t as striking as it should’ve been, how long he lasted – which, wow, was not long – and honestly just how he pleased himself more than her. “we fucked.”
the cigarette almost slips from in between your fingers. “wait, what?”
“we’ve fucked a couple of times, i just, it wasn’t all that.”
“jesus, you’ve been through hell.” you joke lightheartedly, which earns a giggle from chaeyoung.
she takes the cigarette from you, then draws deeply from the cigarette. “it wasn’t too bad, like, i didn’t mind but, it was really–”
“disappointing? men are like that.”
“you and men.” chaeyoung scoffs, inhaling again.
“i’m serious, and being sexually frustrated is serious too.” and then you eye her–dangerously. chaeyoung tries to ignore the way you looked at her, it lasted a second but there was definitely something on your mind. she holds the cigarette to your lips, you move your head forward to catch it in between your lips, inhaling as you fix your crewneck. “you deserve better.”
“he’ll get better.” she says it almost like a manifestation, something she’ll write down on paper and put under her pillow so she’ll finally cum without instructing too much.
“you shouldn’t have to wait for someone to fuck you right.” you begin, and maybe you haven’t sobered up, because then, she widens her eyes after you say, “bet i could make you feel good.”
the world seems to come to a standstill, you lean against the balcony, your tricep resting on the metal railing, fingers holding the half-smoked cigarette as you cradle your face in the same hand. your gaze meets hers with an intensity that suggests you've just posed a question— and honestly, chaeyoung might have sulked to such a point that she's seriously considering it. that small, mischievous smile playing on your lips might just be enough to sway her decision.
“that’s cheating, i–”
“you don’t have to.” turning your head to teh side and puffing. “it was a suggestion.”
maybe chaeyoung is desperate (she most definitely is), because wow, that smirk is growing into a cocky ass grin that shows your teeth and the prominent canines and–
“are you drunk or are you serious?” chaeyoung asks you, looking you dead in the eye. 
eyeing her from the side, you respond, “you want it to be serious?”
she gulps. “no strings attached?”
“none have to be, friends with benefits is a thing, chaeyoung.”
she gulps again. “okay, yeah, sure.”
you smile, then smush the cigarette into the ashtray down on the small stool you have out, then tilt your head to urge her inside.
she follows you to the couch, sliding the door behind her before you sit down on the couch, watching her hesitantly follow. she stands in front of you and you eye her like she’s your prey.
she doesn’t question how your moral compass is fucked, especially after you’ve suggested this, knowing she’s with haesol. but she doesn’t think of whatever your morals and rights or wrongs are after she catches you unzipping your fly, sliding the little metal button out from the slit and–
you’re sliding down your jeans – baggy and a dark navy – they land at your ankle before you retreat back into a lounged position on the cushions. her eyes follow the jeans as they scrunch up at your ankles, then trail up your surprisingly toned legs, and then stop at the calvin klein underwear you have on.
you rub your hand on your thigh, sliding it down to your knee and making eye contact with her.
“c’mere.” you pat down on your skin. “you've been complaining about him and i just... wanna make you feel good for once. that alright? i kind of owe it to you for being so shitty.”
chaeyoungs breath hitches involuntarily as she looks down at you, her morals trying to win her over but god is that difficult to do when you’re so–
you’re sliding off your crewneck, it reveals a tanktop under, and of course, the various tattoos littered on your upper arms and shoulders. she bites her lip subtly.
yeah, there’s no going back on this one.
chaeyoung gives in because c’mon, this is a fantasy that’s been in the back of her mind, and her cunt is screaming louder than ever than when she’s been with haesol. honestly, her pussy whispers when she’s with him, and now it’s yelling–more than ever just seeing you sitting there on your couch, legs slightly parted as you eye her.
there’s a pretentious smirk trying to tug at your lips, but you fight against it and clench your jaw. 
she lets out a long breath before moving over to settle herself down on your thigh, the contact makes her shiver.
"there we go," you whisper softly, drinking in the sight before you. your fingertips dance along the curves of her ribs, hidden beneath the fabric of her cropped, white shirt. her breath stumbles as she tries to focus on you, or anything in the moment, really. "you’re so pretty, you know?”
instinctively, she ruts her hips against you, a soft breath escaping her lips. her skirt allows easy access, easily pushed aside to let her soaked panties glide against your skin. the fabric covering her folds adds to the tantalizing allure, fueling the urge to tease her further.
no foreplay has made chaeyoung feel this desperate for stimulus on her cunt, no one has made her feel this hot and heavy. you haven’t even undressed her yet and she’s already leaving a trail of arousal on your thigh like that. 
chaeyoung slides off the jacket she has on – haesol’s denim jacket that he gave her two days before – and throws it carelessly on the floor, not minding where it lands or what happens to it. the main event is you, all attention is on you. 
the guilt that should've been sitting in her stomach, stabbing her through the heart and holding her down went out the window as soon as your fingers landed on the edge of her skirt – but there was none of that, not when you started to tease your fingers along her skin. 
“how about this too?” you suggest, tugging at the fabric of her skirt, a sly smile gracing your lips. “tell me… you want it off?”
“yes,” she says immediately, almost like a breath. “please, fuck, yeah take it off.”
“how eager.” you snicker.
her skirt is off now, leaving her in soaked underwear and that t-shirt of hers. she’s slipping back onto your thigh, your special seat for her now. honestly, from the way she looks and feels–sounds… yeah, this spot might have to be reserved for her and only her.
the smirk on your face is smug as your eye her hips, placing both hands on them and slowly grinding her on your skin. chaeyoung, who’s not used to this extent of pleasure, moans immediately, biting her lip in embarrassment to suppress anything else that manages to slip out.
you can’t help but laugh under your breath, amused by how pleased she is. you kind of feel bad – if she feels this good from just grinding, how bad is that dick of her boyfriend’s? you pity the girl, so as her best friend, you have to give her what she’s missing.
she’s moving her hips on her own now, scooting up closer to you so she can plant her hands on your shoulders, making it easier to fuck herself on your skin. your groans are low, almost airy here and there while you watch, occasionally helping her out by pressing up against her. 
you can tell she’s doing everything she can to hide the sounds she’s making, desperately biting back moans that you want to hear. you’re not going to let her stay quiet, not when she sounds so pretty all because of you. all for you.
sliding your hand up, you press your thumb on her bottom lip, allowing her plea’s to be heard as you forcefully part her lips, your grip on her jaw almost deathly.
“f-fuck y/n, w-wait.”
the grip on your shoulder tightens, making you groan yourself. she looks down at where her clad cunt meets your skin again, scrunching her brows hard as she desperately ruts against you. 
her voice swells the more she rubs against you, the sounds coming out her mouth reverberating like a symphony building to its crescendo. aggressively, you grab her hips again, shifting her down roughly against your thigh. she throws her head back, mouth widening as a loud, shaky moan escapes. then, like a symphony's final movement, everything harmonizes. 
the sound of your name being cried out when she cums resonates, lingering in our ears, a perfect harmony that captivates you, making you smile. she throws her head down on your shoulder, muttering your name over and over while her hands desperately claw against your shoulder, tricep, skin – against anything.
she’s still moving against you, but slower now, trying to ease herself back down from cumming for the first time in a while. even when she did cum that one time from haesol, it has never left her as shaken up or satiated as this.
your hands stabilize her by the hips as she pulls away, her face inches away from yours. you manage to get a glimpse of her underwear – completely wet, like a tidal wave had crashed against it – smile to yourself, pleased.
“how was that?” you ask, “seemed good.” your voice is low, speaking from the throat as you soften your tone.
“s-shut, “ she starts, then presses her lips against yours, making you hum surprisingly. “up.”
it feels right, so fucking right despite how morally wrong it is. 
she’s basically on your hip now, mindlessly grinding in your lap as she kisses you. it’s slow, sensual, and so goddamn intimate considering this is the first time you’ve done anything remotely… romantic? anything that really crossed the line of “friendship.”
then you’re sliding your tongue against the space in between her lips, earning access to her mouth as you slide your tongue in, exploring her like she’s some eighth wonder of the world. she moans into the kiss, it’s muffled, but it’s great. more than great–amazing.. you kiss and kiss like there’s no tomorrow, fighting for air by the time your lips’ part. and now it’s your time to admire your mess: tangled dark hair framing chaeyoung’s face, her puffy lips and flushed cheeks, and those lidded eyes. 
your lips move to her neck, making her grip at you as soon as you make contact with her skin again. you’re like a fucking drug to her, she’s getting high just from this small dose of you and she might just get addicted after knowing how the high is. this might just be worse than her smoking habits, but if it’s you? she doesn’t give a fuck.
“y/n, fuck wait,” chaeyoung sighs, getting up to slider her underwear off and throwing it to the side. “again, please.”  
you laugh, more than happy to comply. “of course, as much as you want.”
the rest of the night is filled with chaeyoung’s moans, your soft voice coaxing her as she stimulates herself, and the last thing on either of your minds is haesol, because that’s a worry for later.
she cums again a few minutes later – surprisingly fast, but just as good, and you’re not judging her either way. poor girl. she goes a little limp after that, resting against you, still in your lap, and letting her head settle on your shoulder while you rub her back.
“you gonna stay the night?” you ask her, feeling her breath against your neck. “because you can.”
chaeyoung pauses, she doesn’t answer. 
she pulls away from you, then gazes at your face. you look back at her, not really expecting anything, just looking at her. chaeyoung breathes out, then places a hand on your neck before she kisses you.
she whispers against your lips, “i’ll think about it.” 
the next morning chaeyoung is still on your couch, a blanket trapped between her legs while most of it is on the floor. the scent of coffee being brewed fills the air. 
she rises from the couch, running her hands over her face with a sigh before tending to her tousled hair. she’s not wearing anything, she’s completely bare. as she turns, she notices your back turned to her, engrossed in pouring a cup of coffee. you’re only wearing a sports bra on top and low-rise jeans lazily wrap around your waist, revealing your underwear.
 the sound of your yawn reaches her ears, and then you turn around with a cup in your hands, holding it to your lips. you both make eye contact.
the silencing squeezes you two, squishing your skin and almost breaking your bones. chaeyoung looks away first.
“you’re awake.” 
she’s not looking at you, instead looking around for the shirt you’d taken off before making her cum the second time around, finding it on the edge of the couch.
“yeah.” chaeyoung responds quietly, “i have to go.”
there it is, you expected this, but it still disappoints you a little, even if you assured that it was “no strings attached.”
“do you need a ride?”
“i can text haesol.”
your jaw tenses. 
she has a boyfriend, right, haesol. chaeyoung has a boyfriend who seems more attached to his phone than to her, failing to truly listen to her. he overlooks the qualities that you find captivating, a boyfriend who... well, is just a man. you try to convince yourself that you've forgotten, but deep down, you know you never really did. if anything, knowing that you can, scratch that, you did make her feel better than her boyfriend boosts your ego, even if just a little. 
you should feel guilty, like you’ve just committed a terrible crime and someone is waiting outside with handcuffs ready to put you behind bars but– you don’t feel any of that, honest to god you dont give a fuck about that. you made chaeyoung feel good, great, fucked her with your thigh, and honestly that’s enough to completely push guilt out your body.
she’s fully dressed again after putting on the jacket that was across the living room on the floor. she looks walks over to you, stealing a quick glance to the tattoo on your ribs and the little one above your waist.
"i can’t believe i did this," she mumbles quietly to herself. then, she looks up at you, gulping. “we need to keep this a secret, okay?”
“i know, i figured.” you respond bitterly, even though it was you who started it in the first place. “so what's next? you're still going to go back to him? are we just going to fuck and forget?"
chaeyoung winces, feeling the pang of regret and uncertainty. 
she’s undoubtedly whipped, she can’t go back to haesol like everything’s fine. she didn’t answer his texts, his calls–anything. and despite how negligent he is–and also the fact that he’ll never make her feel the same way as you did – chaeyoung wants to go back to him, he’s her boyfriend after all. she already left him last night with no explanation, the least she can do is go back. but everything in her heart and head is telling her to stay here with you.
“i just… need time to think about it, y/n.”
you narrow your eyes at her as you sip on your coffee. “right.”
chaeyoung approaches you, frustration etched on her face. your demeanor is elusive, she hates how difficult you are to read. it’s hard to decipher whether you're angry, disappointed, or both. as you search for your phone, turning back around, she feels her shoulders sag with disappointment, her steps heavy as she reluctantly heads towards the door.
“i really thought you’d finally open your eyes, but i guess i was wrong.” you finally say, hearing a pause of silence before you hear the door open. 
a few seconds pass before you hear it close. chaeyoung’s gone.
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inuiiwonderland · 3 days
Text
Stupid teenager in love
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Ace seems to be in deep denial about his feelings for the prefect. Everyone can tell the heartslabyul first year has feelings for the prefect of ramshackle but he’s still denying it! So, the rest of the first year gang take it upon themselves to help Ace come to terms with his feelings.
Ace trappola x gn! Reader
Genre: Fluff (shocker), the first year gang smacking some sense into Ace, Ace getting jealous, and um that’s it🤍
-
A loud cackle can be heard in the lounge as some people nearby glanced at their booth and some even gave them weird looks. The first year gang side eye ace. They were all trying to have a serious conversation with the red head but he couldn’t even take the situation seriously!
“Me? In love with the prefect? HAHA! Please as if!”
“We never said that you were in love with them”
“Oh” His face heats up before he quickly looks away.
“But you guys are making it seem like I am!” He says as he rolls his eyes.
“Yeah, but we wouldn’t be surprised if you were” It was Jack who spoke as he sighs and shakes his head. Ace just groans as he slumps further down onto the chair.
“Jeez why do you guys even think I like the prefect anyway?” Everyone looked at him in utter disbelief as he continued to talk.
“Are you being serious right now?”
“Yer so dumb it’s actually making my head hurt!”
“I know you’re dumb, but I didn’t know you were this dumb”
“Hey!”
“It’s a shame your parents have you as their child!”
“Okay that's so not cool!” He glares at them before getting up from his seat and grabbing his bag.
“I don’t know how many more times I have to say this but I’m only going to say it once. I don’t like the prefect!”
And he stomps off.
The rest of the group give each other a knowing look.
“You thinking what I’m thinking?”
“Yep”
“Uh huh”
“Unfortunately”
“He’s a stupid teenager in love”
“Agree” they all say in unison”
-
Giggles can be heard in the gym as Ace glowing glare is directed towards his upperclassman. The water bottle in his hand is crushed by how tightly he’s holding it.
“Jamil! You did really well in today's game!” You say as you hand him a water bottle. Jamil smiles and takes it from your hands. Thanking you before the two of you continue to talk.
“Oooo what’s got crabby so mad?” Ace was so busy glaring daggers at Jamil that he didn’t notice Floyd sneaking up behind him.
“Fuck off Floyd!”
“Eh? What did you just say?”
Shit
“Just leave me alone and go bother someone else”
“Mmm don’t wanna!~”
Ace just decides to ignore him as he continues to watch you and Jamil interact.
Why do you look so happy? And why are you being all touchy touchy towards Jamil?! Do you like him or something?
As ace continues to list off all the different possibilities about why you were so close to Jamil, that he didn’t notice the ball that was heading towards him at a ridiculously fast pace.
“Ace!”
“Ace look out!!”
He snaps out of his thoughts and his eyes turn to look at you.
“Huh?”
SMACK!!
The loud sound of a ball hitting something was heard in the gym as gasps echoed across the whole room.
Ace felt his whole face burn as he hisses at the impact of the ball hitting him. He groaned as he felt liquid fall from his nose.
“Ace!” He slowly opened his eyes to be met with your worried face.
He could feel his whole face flush
“Ace! Oh my sevens are you okay?”
“Floyd, why'd you do that?!”
“He was ignoring me and being rude!” Jamil just sighs as he massages his temple and sucks in a deep breath.
“Prefect, You don’t mind taking him to the infirmary do you?”
“Of course not! Ace c’mon I’m taking you to the nurses office!”
“Ughh”
“Floyd”
“Aww you guys are so boring and mean! It was funny!”
-
The trip to the nurse’s office was quick. You sat next to Ace as he held the ice pack near his injury. He was mumbling stuff under his breath as he stared into space.
“Ace”
Nothing
“Acee”
Still nothing
“Ace!”
“Huh” He hisses and holds his head as a massive headache forms. You quickly pass him a water and make- well more like force him to lay on your lap.
“What’d you do to make Floyd throw a basketball at you?” He scoffs as he rolls his eyes.
“I didn’t do anything!” He winces when he feels the headache come back again.
“Well you must’ve done something! He said you were ignoring him and being rude”
“What?!” He regrets it once his head starts hurting again.
“You should stop moving and shouting too much! That’s why your headache keeps coming back to get your ass!”
“Whatever”
“Anyways, what did you do?”
“I already told you, I didn’t do anything” he mumbles. Enjoying being able to lay down on your lap.
Wait what?
No he’s not enjoying it! He’s just trying to get comfortable!
“Mm that’s not what Mr mood swings said”
“Ugh I don’t-“ He stops his sentence once he remembers.
Right
He was to busy glaring daggers at Jamil that he didn’t bother paying attention to Floyd
“Fuck my life” He says as he closes his eyes.
You tilt your head in confusion before continuing to comb your hands through his hair.
It was silent. Neither of you were talking and the two of you didn’t mind that. It was rather a comfortable silence.
That is until the doors to the infirmary were slammed open.
“What happened?”
“Ha you dummy! What ya do to make Floyd throw a ball at you?” Epel laughs as ace glares at him.
“Shut up you dwarf!”
“Eh?! Oh you little-“
“That’s enough” You thank Jack as he just nods at you before looking down at Ace who was currently laying on your lap. He raises a brow before looking at the others.
Deuce, epel, and sebek give each other a knowing look before deuce smirks.
“I see you're doing okay now. Do you feel comfortable ace?” You can hear the slight tease in his voice as you only chuckle.
The red head only looks at him confused until he realizes that he’s laying on your lap. He quickly shoots up but later regretting it as the headache from earlier quickly rushes to him.
“Shut up!” He quickly gets up before stumbling out of the nurse’s office.
“What’s up with him?” You ask. The others just shrugged.
If only you knew
-
It’s been a constant battle with ace and the first years. They have been trying for the last couple of weeks to help Ace come to terms with his feelings towards you. But he’s just too stubborn!
He doesn’t believe he likes you that way!
You’re his friend! He’s the first friend you made when you first got here!
The two of you only see each other as friends!
Nothing more, nothing less.
Just friends
That’s what he likes to believe
He was still bitter at the way you were being all warm and cozy with Jamil BUT that’s because he doesn’t want you to replace him!
He definitely wasn’t jealous
Nope nada nu uh
Definitely not because of that
The walk to the mirror chambers felt longer than usual. He was busy scrolling through twsttok that he didn’t hear his name being called from behind him.
“Ace, don't make me throw something at you!”
Now that got his attention
He quickly turns around to only see you
You
“Mm? What do you want?”
“Ouch. You don’t want me around or something?” You joke and he just rolls his eyes.
“I was just teasing”
“Yeah I know” You walked beside him as he continued scrolling down the app.
“Where’s grim?”
“With the rest of the first years” He frowns. Weird, you never go anywhere without that furball.
“So why were you looking for me?”
“Hey I just wanted to spend some time with you” He felt his face flush.
Shit! Say something!
“Am I that charming that you couldn’t resist being away from me for too long?” He teases. He was trying so hard to not make it look like your words held so much power over him.
“Yeah you’re so charming that I can’t spend a second away from you”
His eyes widen
Okay he definitely didn’t expect that
You laugh as you smacked his shoulder
“What? You expected me to just stand there and say nothing back?”
“I well duh!” You rolled your eyes.
“No but seriously. I do want to spend some time with you”
“Well I can’t blame ya. I’m just toooo irresistible!”
“More like irritating”
The both of you laughed as you made your way to the mirror chamber.
Sevens, when was the last time Ace felt like taking someone out on a date and having the urge to kiss them?
His last relationship didn’t end all too well but with you. He just feels more…well alive.
But there’s no way in all of twisted wonderland that you won’t feel some sort of way for him.
“Y’know…I notice how weird you have been acting lately”
“Eh? Weird? Ugh, the weird one is you!”
“Shut up pea brain!” You smacked him as he only laughs.
You look cute when you’re all riled up.
“Anyways as I was saying! I noticed you have been acting rather strangely these couple of months”
“How?”
“Well for starters, you’ve been awfully clingy around me, you got ten times more protective, and you literally scare away every guy who tries to talk to me. Why’s that?” Ace's grip on his bag tightens as he tries to not look at you.
“Don’t know what your talking about”
“Oh c'mon you know exactly what I’m talking about”
“Nope. Not a single clue” You sigh as you stop walking completely.
“Ace” He stops walking and turns around to face you.
“What?”
“Why do you keep denying it?”
What
“What?” His brows furrowed as he frowned.
“Why do you keep denying that you like me?”
It’s almost like time stops completely. The two of you just stood there. Not saying a single word.
Until you spoke up
“Am I that bad or embarrassing for you to admit-“
“No!” You flinch at his tone and he immediately shuts up.
“No it’s not that! It’s just-“
“Then what is it? I've been waiting for a confession for ages yet you still haven’t told me anything!”
“Just tell me the truth. Do you like me or not?”
He just stood there. Shocked.
A flash of hurt was seen in your features before you sighed and turned around.
“Wait!”
You stopped and turned around to see Ace right in front of you.
Fuck it
“I do like you! I always have! I just never came to terms with my feelings because I knew you never saw me as something else but a friend!”
Fuck
Fuck
Fuck
He did it
He actually did it
And he could feel himself cringe at the cheesy words but he didn’t care.
He wants you to know that he likes you. More than just a friend.
You stared at him before you broke into a fit of giggles.
“Huh? What’s so funny?”
“I know”
“What” you smiled at him before booping his nose.
“I said I know. I always knew you liked me. I was just waiting for you to finally say something”
WHAT?!
“HUH?!” You giggle before kissing his cheek.
“It’s okay because I also like you too!”
Ace just stood there frozen.
“Finally!”
“Sevens you were going to give me an aneurysm with how long you took to confess”
“Congratulations trappola! You finally gathered the courage to confess to the prefect!”
“Congrats dummy”
“Yuck! All this lovey dovey stuff is making me sick!” Grim complains as he sticks out his tongue. You only giggle before looking back at Ace who was still lost.
“You okay?”
“Yeah I am….why didn’t you ever say you liked me back?”
“Because I wanted you to say it first. It took some pushing but you still told me first nonetheless” He just shakes his head before smiling.
“But I guess it wasn’t a lie when I said that I was irresistible”
“Ugh fuck off”
Now it was his turn to laugh
They were right
He’s just a stupid teenager in love
-
My very first fluff fic??😱 (I think… idk I forgot😭)
Anyways I just wanted to write something sweet and cute so I hope you guys like!🤍🤍🤍
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qrrieterisunnq · 3 days
Note
Luke Hughes- Young and Beautiful by Lana please!!
thank you so much for requesting this my love!! I hope you'll like it!! 🫶🏽🤍
Sitting on a couch, your legs swing over Luke’s lap as he draws small patterns on them, watching the first Canucks playoff game. Jack and their parents are sitting on the other couch, commenting on the game and every other while complimenting Quinn on how good he’s doing or how amazing a save he just made.
You thought that maybe Luke would be commenting too but he’s weirdly quiet today. “What’s going on, Lu? You’re weirdly quiet today.” You look up at him, placing a hand over his to get his whole attention.
“It’s nothing my love, just a stupid thing.” He sends you a half smile, hoping you would leave the topic, but you know him really well and you can say when something is bothering him.
“Well then tell me. You know I’m for any stupid thing, so tell me.” You nudge his shoulder as you whisper to him, your head cocked to the side with a smile on your lips.
“It’s just, uh, it’s really stupid. I’m just thinking…” he trails himself off, his eyes glutted on the tv as he lets out a breath. “Will you still love me, when I’m no longer young and beautiful?”
You look at him with an amused smile on your lips. You have to admit it is a really stupid question. Of course, you would love him. There’s no way you would never love this handsome face. This curls that are falling in his face at every opportunity. The strong hands that hold you firmly before you drift to sleep.
“Oh, my love,” you laugh shaking your head at his thoughts. “I have a question too. Would you still love me if I were a worm?” his expression changes as he’s trying to hold in his laughter. “Then your answer to my question is the same as my question to yours.” You smile at him reaching your hand to his cheek to press a delicate kiss to his lips.
“Yeah, I would.” He laughs shaking his head at his stupid questions and his stupid thoughts. “Thank you. I love you so much, Y/n,” he whispers in her lips, kissing her more deeply.
“I love you too, Luke.”
“Oh come on, leave it for the night!” Jack groans when he looks over his shoulder at his brother and his girlfriend. He loves teasing them about their PDA, but he’s so happy for his little brother to finally have someone who loves him more than themselves. He can see how much Y/n loves him. She would do anything for him, just like would Luke do.
“Oh, fuck off,” Luke flips him off, his attention on his beautiful girl as she’s laughing together with his parents. “You’re just jealous because you have no one to cuddle up with.”
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lilmashae · 15 hours
Note
hii!! i was thinking about some kinda angsty (?) smut where like, reader and whoever else (i thought about heeseung tbh) are fucking yk, reader is riding him but she’s too tired and just can’t let herself nor heeseung cum. hee would normally tease her and make her work for release but today he can sense that she’s not doing that well so he comforts her and switches positions to fuck her real good 🤗
(if you’re not comfortable with writing this it’s totally okay!! love you and your work :>)
im more than okay with this… i love it 👩🏽‍💻
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you couldn’t stop thinking about it — it didn’t matter if it was five minutes ago or five hours ago: what those girls had said really hurt you. ‘what does he see in her…?’ their words really stuck...
it’s not like you were listening on purpose — maybe they couldn’t tell it was you from the back but the three of them were sitting directly behind you. it's not their faults. you told yourself — if they knew you were there they'd probably stop and maybe they'd apologize... you were only waiting for heeseung to get out of class — being alone made you feel even more self concious... you tried to calm yourself down as maybe they weren't talking about you...
i’ll be there soon babe :)
the text message put you at ease, until you heard what they had to say next. your anxiety shot through the roof hearing another one of the girls open their mouths. ‘no really! i’m glad you said something… heeseung just looks way too good compared to her.’ they could be talking about someone else right — maybe a classmate? you could hear their snickering and mocking laughter. 'maybe she's really smart — helping him pass his classes you know?' there's no way they weren't talking about you. your suspicions were only confirmed hearing another venomous accusation — this time with your name included. 'y/n must have insane luck..! because there's no way he'd actually love someone who looks as... well... like her.' everything felt wrong — your clothes were suddenly uncomfortable and it felt like everyone was watching you — they'd heard them too right? the girls weren't exactly quiet... god this was embarrassing.
'hey baby! sorry i'm late.' heeseung's voice broke your thoughts. the string of weary expressions in your head had burst and melted into nothing upon his arrival. you looked up as your gaze met your boyfriends. he had noticed your nervous features — the way that you tugged your bottom lip between your teeth and picked at your cuticles. 'you alright?' you weren't sure if heeseung had heard them but you really hoped not. you'd hate to embarrass him alongside yourself.
choking down the lump in your throat, you forced a smile... 'yeah hee...' you awkwardly smiled with glossed over eyes. 'i'm sure.' he still looked concerned — the grip on his bag seemingly tighter than before. 'here sit!' trying to reassure him you smiled even wider and thankfully it worked.
heeseung moved your bag sitting beside you as you two ate lunch together.
admittedly, throughout the rest of the day you felt a little down... what if those girls were right — was heeseung too good for you? did he actually like you? was he using you..? no heeseung wouldn't do that — you felt so stupid — you felt even stupider later that night as you two sat in his dorm room watching a movie. sure, you said you were fine... but heeseung still thought you were a bit off — you loved this film: usually you'd be giggling and engaging with the screen however tonight you laid unusually still with your head buried in the crook of his neck.
'baby...' worriedly, he rubbed your back, watching as you stared up at him with foggy eyes. 'are you sure you're feeling alright?' fuck... his hand moved to your forehead to check for any symptoms of physical distress. 'yeah baby. i promise.' heeseung's hand cupped your cheek as he lead you into a comforting kiss — a peck which you deepened — trying to distract him, before he could spout out any more questions. as always his lips were soft — they tasted like his chapstick as your tongue grazed the plushy flesh of his mouth.
heeseung returned your sudden embrace, leaning into your mouth as you begin to sit up straddling his lap. you lips collided and melted together as you two continued to make out — mouths exploring the vacancy of one another's.
your boyfriend's hands kneaded at your sides under your shirt as his fingers hooked under your bra unclasping it. the hardened buds of your nipples were now clearly visible through the thin cotton of your shirt... as heeseung hiked your shirt up over your boobs, you gasped as the cold air kissed your warm skin. you mirrored his actions, pulling his shirt over his head — however, the words kept repeating themselves in your head. even now, graced by your beautiful boyfriend's naked body... you were lost in the discomfort of insecurity and guilt.
you knew it'd be better to tell him. heeseung would know exactly what to say to comfort you. but now... now, you didn't want to think. you wanted to forget, and you had a few ideas how to do that. heeseung quickly rid himself of his pants and you of your own.
the friction of the fabrics separating both your sexes dawned over you as a wave of pleasure. it pinched your clit as you could feel the precum leaking through his boxers. 'heeseung...' you whimpered into his mouth as his hands firmly grasped your hips. he knows what you're doing — something is clearly wrong. 'come on, pretty girl, tell me what's the matter...' no matter how hard you tried you couldn't hide from him and you hated it. you broke down into tears. out of the blue, his sweetly flavored chapstick had a slight hint of saltiness as tears poured down your cheeks. 'don't hide from me, baby.' his hands held your own. 'fuck, hee... do you love me? you don't think i'm shitty — or that you're too good for me?'
'what?' his expression dropped. 'no... no, no, no, pretty girl. who said that hm? i love you... love you so much.' heeseung leaned in kissing away your tears as he firmly held you on his lap. 'let me take care of you, baby... please? 'don't ride me tonight — 'want to show you how much i love you.' he whispered. you nodded as the muscle of his biceps engulfed you, before gently lying your body beneath his own. heeseung's arms caged you in as his breathe fanned across your face. 'do you love me?' he asked. 'of course! how could i not... you're —' he interrupted your explanation diving into your lips.
he gently trailed sot kisses down the expanse of your body. 'going to fuck you so good sweetheart...' he kissed you again — and once more — again... 'treat you like a princess...' heeseung aligned his length with your sopping entrance his eyebrows knitted together in a furrow. 'so tight... perfect girl with perfect pussy for me...' your arms flew around his neck feeling his throbbing cockhead slip between your gummy walls. 'shit...' you mumbled into his shoulder as he continued to fuck himself deeper inside of your cunt. 'i'm all in, baby... 'feel good?' he slowly began to move, pumping his cock in and out of your heat. 'ah! heeseung...'
'shhh... it's okay... you're so pretty —prettiest girl alive... my pretty girl... should i mark you up?' he thrust. 'that way everyone knows your mine... let everyone know how much i fucking, love you.' with every snap and roll of his hips, you could feel the veins adorning his shaft prod at your gspot. his tip softly kissed your cervix as he began to pick up his pace.
he had you folded in half — thighs bent into your chest as you moaned and heavily called out his name. 'there you go... say my name again, princess. 'want everyone to hear it — 'want the guys and any bitch giving you shit to be talking about it tomorrow... how well i fuck you and how good you take it.' heeseung's praises went straight to your cunt — slick lathered around the base of his cock and your orgasm neared.
'think i'm going to cum...' you whined. 'yeah? good. go ahead pretty baby... cum all on my cock — want to see it yeah? feel how you clench around me and take everything hee gives you...'
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i never know how to end these >< anyways, i hope you like ittt, hopefully i didn't get too angsty ^^
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Text
the girl next door 3
Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as age gap, manipulation, chronic illness, noncon/dubcon, coercion, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.
Summary: A new neighbour moves in and upends your already disarrayed life.
Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself.
This lewk but silverfox
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The noise of a lawnmower welcomes you out into the vibrant summer day. Your mother is already on the porch, sat on the patio bench. You can tell she’s primped herself up just a little bit. You put the jug of lemonade on the wicker table and stand by the end of the long eat. 
“A kind man,” your mother muses beneath the racket of the mower, “about time we got someone decent ‘round here. You know,” she furrows her brow viciously, “those bitches from the cul-de-sac never liked your nana. Hate us even more. Stepford hags.” 
You nod and peek over at Steve as he pushes the mower in a straight line. The grass falls to the blade and leaves thick clippings in rows. You twiddle your fingers as you notice the shine of sweat on the man’s forehead and forearms. His act of kindness feels more like pity. 
“Don’t be stupid, girl, go grab some cups,” your mother snipes and draws your attention back to the porch. “That man’s going to think I raised a moron.” 
You retreat back into the house. For as pleasant as she was to your new neighbour, it has done little for her mood. Or maybe it’s just you. 
You grab two of the rippled plastic cups from the cupboard and head back down the hall. You stop as you reflection passes you in the mirror. You turn to face it. You frown. You’re nothing special to look at but you don’t do much to help that. You wonder if you put on some mascara or wore something nicer if you might look anything close to pretty. 
You shrug off the fleeting insecurity. It’s not important. Your mother’s sick and your little uncertainties don’t mean anything. You push through the screen door and clack the cups down. As you do, the mower quiets and you peer over. The grass is trimmed neatly as Steve stands close to the steps, wiping his forehead as his cheeks burn rosy form the heat. 
“Whew, think I’ll try some of that lemonade,” he climbs the steps, “hot one today.” 
As he climbs the last step and he drags his hands down his tee shirt. His grey blonde hair droops forward and he tries to shake it out of his face. He tugs at the hem of his shirt and lifts it over his head, revealing a sweat-dampened undershirt. 
“Don’t mind me,” he chuckles as he uses the outer layer to mop his face and neck, “think I overdressed.” 
“Get him some lemonade,” your mother hisses and points to the jug. “Steve, was it? What brings you to Heron Meadows?” 
You unstack one cup from the other and fill both. You set the pitcher back down and step back on your heel, folding your hands together as you fade into the background. You’re peripheral to your mother. You only exist when she needs you. 
“Well, settling down, I think,” he smiles and reaches for a cup. He raises it and stops it just in front of his chest. He carefully gestures at you with it, “thanks.” 
Your eyes round and you glance away, “welcome.” 
“Settling down?” Your mother echoes coyly. 
“I know, I’m a bit late to the game. Had to get out of the city. Maybe I outgrew it,” he sighs, “and you two? Where’s your husband hanging out?” 
You mother laughs and crosses one leg over the other, not easily as she struggles to still the shake in her foot, “long gone. He never saw this place.” 
“Ah, hope I didn’t hit a sore spot,” Steve’s cheek dimples before he sips from the glass. 
“Mm, don’t feel much for the deadbeat,” your mother tisks, “what about you? Settling down? Is your wife coming with the couch?” 
“Ah, yeah,” he reaches over to plant his hand against the pillar that connects to the rail. He leans on it and gulps again. He swallows before he continues, his eyes meeting yours for the split second you dare to look up, “missed that step but the house will keep me busy until I figure that out.” 
“Oh don’t you worry, that little club will keep you busy,” your mother scoffs, “make sure ya keep your picket fence nice and whitewashed.” 
Steve gives a curious furrow of his brow. You mother sniffs as her little quip hangs in the air. 
“HOA,” you put in quietly. 
“Mm, I bought out of that,” he says. “Outdated if you ask me. I don’t need them telling me what colour to paint my door.” 
“Bought out?” Your mother grumbles. 
“I didn’t relish the extra lawyer fees but worth it,” Steve explains before he empties the cup and puts it back down, “thanks, that was great. Uh, guess I should get started on the back.” 
You stand dumbly as you mother agrees with a grumble. An awkward silence thickens around you and she snaps in your direction with her fingers, “take him out back, honey.” 
“Oh, uh, sure,” you clamour forward as if awoken from a slumber. “Just...” you near Steve and step around him to scurry down the stairs. “this way.” 
He leaves his tee shirt draped over the railing and turns to follow. He looms like a shadow behind you and as you stop to reach over the top of the gate and unlock it, you scratch around blindly. He steps closer and hooks his arm over yours. The smell of his sweat fills your nose. 
“Got it,” he says as he easily unlatches the clasp and the gate slants inward. 
You push through, quickly making distance from him as he trails you into the backyard. It’s even worse than the front. You grab the broken mower from where you left it and drag it towards the garage. 
“Great, I’ll go grab the mower,” he declares and leaves you to shove your way awkwardly into the side door of the garage. You push the rusted metal inside and the door snaps shut at your back as you emerge back into the sunlight. 
Steve pushes through his nice electric mower and you shy away. It’s got to be close to new and no doubt expensive. You trod through the tall grass and as you pass him, his arm brushes yours. 
“I could do the eaves too,” he stops beside you. “Get some of these weeds cut too.” 
“No thanks,” 
“I don’t mind,” he insists. 
“I can manage.” 
“You can. Probably a lot. Your mom...” he suggests, letting his words hang. “She sick?” 
You glance at his chest, the white fabric taught to his muscles above his thick stomach. You nod. 
“You take care of her?” He prompts. 
“Do my best,” you mutter and traipse on, “thanks.” 
“Right, uh,” he calls after you, “well, if you change your mind or think of anything, you can always ask.” 
You keep on. He feels bad for you. Just like everyone else. You’ve heard Marge and Lucy on their daily power walk; poor thing, going nowhere, sad... 
You go back out front, leaving the gate open. You go to grab the broom from the porch as your mother remains as she was. Her hand trembles on her thigh. 
“You know, should clean up around here,” she says, “invite him for dinner as thank you. Maybe tomorrow.” 
You take the broom and stop at the bottom of the steps, “maybe tomorrow,” you agree. 
“He’s a nice man. Could use one of those,” she smirks, “never had one of those. Handsome to boot.” 
It’s strange. You haven’t seen your mother smile since your grandma was around and even then, it wasn’t like this. The way she’s talking is almost ravenous. Like she’s slathering over a pork chop still on the grill. 
“Just gonna sweep up the trimmings,” you explain as you drag the broom down the walk. 
“Ugh, do whatever, you simple girl,” she chides. “When you’re done, you start on that kitchen. Those damn dishes have been sitting there all day.” 
“Yes mother,” you say to the broomstick as you begin to sweep. 
The sun beams relentlessly down, pouring onto you like fire. When you’re done, you return the broom to its place against the siding of the house and let yourself inside. Your mother hums as she watches the birds. You should be happy to see her outside, to see her in a better mood, but you’re too uneasy with the presence of that man. You know his name but it doesn’t make him any less a stranger. 
You fill the sink and add soap. You plunge a stack of plates into the water and stare out the small window above. You can see the side of the next house. It isn’t much too look at but sometimes a squirrel will critter along the wooden fence top. 
As you zone out, hands working mindlessly on scrubbing and dousing, a shift in the foggy colours of your vision brings your eyes into focus. You blink as Steve waves from outside. He rolls the mower up to the gate and smiles at you. You wince, jolted by the reminder of him. You offer a flutter of your soapy fingers. 
He stops and stares at you through the window. You blink, uncertain what to do. He’s just looking at you. He winks and you wince at the gesture. He slaps his hand back down on the mower and pushes it through to the front yard. That was odd. 
Or maybe you’re just awkward. 
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jaegersdevil · 1 day
Text
calling toji when you can't sleep bc the trees look like monsters
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mysterious shadows danced across the off-white wall that faced the bed. it intrigued you how harmless things could turn sinister in a matter of hours. the trees swayed like monsters outside, and the wind howled like hungry, blood-thirsty wolves through the windows. you sunk deeper into your duvet, your body growing hot with anxiety and fear. it was dumb, the paranormal series you watched before bed. 
it was all in your head. 
the usual creak of the hardwood floors made your skin crawl. your eyes were darting in every direction as you formulated an escape plan. your chest was tight, and your breathing was quiet but quick, like a duck swimming. you couldn’t bring yourself to turn onto your left side, your eyes glued to the wall parallel to you. 
you were officially frozen with fear. the fear of nothing and everything. your phone lay on the bedside table on the left side of the bed, toji’s usual side, although without him here, you were terrified. with a surge of courage, you quickly turned over, facing the empty side of the bed. you shuffled quietly and reached your arm out to grasp your phone. as soon as it was in your grip, you turned the flashlight on. the room looked exactly the same as you had left it before you went to bed 3 hours ago, but it felt different. most likely from the made-up scenario you composed in your mind.
you checked your messages to see if toji had texted, and to your discomfort, he hadn’t. so in classic fashion, you called him and put it on speaker. 
“hey doll, what’s up?” his voice was gruff, but it warmed your skin. 
“just wanted to check up, see how you’re doing...” your voice was shaky, and you cursed yourself for it. 
“isn’t it 3am in tokyo?” he didn’t sound worried, and he had every right to—toji knew nothing was inherently wrong. but you needed comfort. 
“uh, yeah, i just needed to hear your voice.” 
he sighed, and you could practically hear him run a hand through his hair. “i know it’s hard, but i’ll be home in 2 days.” 
toji then scoffed, and you could hear him rolling his eyes. “did you watch one of those stupid, scary shows again?”
you groaned, knowing he made fun of how scared you got. his laughter only heightened, and you covered your eyes with your hand, giggling.
“yes, and stop laughing at me. i’m terrified!” you confessed, your heart practically beating out of your chest as you eyed the bedroom door. “i wish you were here with me, toj.”
“2 days, and i’ll be back in your arms, saving you from the big, scary monsters that live in our apartment,” toji announced, his voice softer than when he first answered. you sighed, hoping the phone call would never end.
“listen, doll, i gotta go, okay? but 2 days.”
you smiled softly at his words.
“okay, i love you,” you mumbled, feeling safer and more content; the picture frames on the chest of drawers on the opposite wall stopped their random movements, and the shadows across the room stilled. 
“love you too, and don’t forget to check under the bed,” his hysterical laughter was the last thing you heard before he hung up. 
fucking fushiguro. 
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gay-dorito-dust · 22 hours
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Do you think you could write some hcs about HSR men comforting reader who woke up from a nightmare?
Bonus if the source of the nightmare was Silver Wolf telling scary stories.
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Argenti
Would immediately wake up the moment he senses that your sleep was being disturbed.
‘My sweet, what’s troubling you?’ He’d ask you, his eyes shone with concern.
‘Just got spooked by the story Silver Wolf told last night.’ You tell him.
‘Aww my beloved rose.’ He coos softly.
‘I know it’s stupid.’ You scoffed.
‘Oh no, not at all.’ He replied as he scooted himself closer to you and brought his hands up to hold your face and used his finger pads to caress your skin soothingly.
‘It’s okay to be scared for it is a reaction shared amongst all beings, but you should never feel such a way when I’m here to keep you safe.’ Argenti said as he presses his forehead to yours and began to hum a sweet, tender melody that swiftly had you drifting off back sleep within seconds.
‘Goodnight my beloved rose.’ He whispered after performing his song, pressing a kiss to your forehand and followed you in the dream realm where he could continue protecting you.
Welt
When Welt saw you had woken yourself from a nightmare and were obviously still reeling from the effects, he would wordlessly bring you into his arms slowly enough as not to frighten you and have you rest your head against his chest.
‘Are you comfortable in telling me what happened?’ He asks barely above a whisper.
‘It’s stupid.’ You replied, voice muffled from the way your face was pressed against his chest.
‘Not if it’s got you frightened this badly.’ He says against your head, his hands rubbing up and down your back soothingly.
‘It was the story Silver Wolf told last night.’ You finally tell him after debating on it for a bit.
‘It was truly a well put together story,’ Welt began as he recalled the events of last night and how tense you were the entire time, ‘I must admit I was slightly taken aback at times.’
You raised your head from his chest to look him in his warm eyes. ‘You were scared too?’ You asked.
‘Kind of.’ Welt chuckles as he brought your head back to his chest and press several kisses to your forehead. ‘Now if I’m allowed, I would like to tell you a story of my own. I must preference this beforehand that it’s not a well written one, but I hope it brings you comfort regardless.’
‘Please.’ You pleaded as you burrowed yourself further against his chest, practically clinging on to him. ‘Anything you say is better than nothing.’ You added.
‘Very well then.’ Welt cleared his throat. ‘There once was a young lady with vibrantly pink hair who had an…habit of wandering into places she probably shouldn’t have. This is merely one story out of many, many, many others…’
Blade
Is an extremely light sleeper, so any movement you made was picked up almost immeditly and he was more than ready to grab his sword when he felt your breath hitch in your throat.
He genuinely thought you were in danger, only to find out you had just woken up from a nightmare.
‘What’s wrong.’ He’d ask gruffly, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.
‘Nothing.’ You replied.
‘Bullshit.’ He scoffs.
‘Fine it was the scary story Silver Wolf told.’ You admitted and Blade raised a brow.
‘You do know none of it’s real right?’ He then asks while biting back a yawn.
‘Yeah no shit but that doesn’t stop the fact that it really freaked me the fuck out.’ You told him as you looked away from him, knowing you weren’t going to get much comfort out of him, seeing as how he’s never known a day of it.
Blade sighed when you showed him your back, knowing you were expecting to be comforted, as he then shuffles himself behind you and puts his arms over your waist all the while caging you against his chest.
‘Nothings going to get you, I won’t allow it.’ He reminds you as he burrows his face into your neck. ‘So there’s no need to be afraid when I’m here and am willing to put body on the line if it meant you sleeping soundly. What’s a few new scars compared to the old.’ He adds as he kept his eyes locked onto the door to the bedroom for a while, just long enough for you to comfortably go back to sleep before following soon after.
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