#the boy appears!! briefly

[beebfreeb]

I got curious about the difference between the English dub and original Japanese voice acting...

#gregory horror show #judgement boy #ghs #I need to watch through more of the Japanese version but most of the characters I've heard appear to match pretty well? #Gregory's voice is quite a bit deeper in the Japanese version but it is a fitting voice! Very jarring to hear but I feel most fans #have already heard it during Gallery Tour! #JB appears in Gallery Tour briefly but not long enough for me to appreciate the difference. #Inko is so high pitched... #I really wonder what differences there are in dialogue between original and dub... but there doesn't seem to be a subtitled version #(which makes sense!) #It would be interesting to see if there is anything that could've been translated differently or if the dub is mostly accurate. #I will likely see nothing of the sort though. As many joys as there are in weird obscure things from 1999... there are sadnesses as well.

[ashintheairlikesnow]

ash i love vince so much he is my number 2 babygirl (antoni number 1 babygirl forever)

i would like to formally request some vince having a Bad Time, either past stuff with owen or present with recovery being a bitch

because there is nothing better than lovely characters having bad times that they absolutely do not deserve

CW: Alcoholism, withdrawal/cravings, alcoholic anger, Vince and Jameson both PTSD-ing all over the place, guilt

Oh, poor Vince. Takes place post-the Same Bed Arc, after Vince is living with Nat and Jameson.

-

Vince doesn't even look up when he hears Jameson stop in the doorway. He just pours a few shots worth of the gin into the glass, staring fixedly down at it. The liquid, clear as water but with the herbal scent washing over him like a welcome spring rain, spreads over the ice with those gentle cracks he knows better than his own heartbeat.

God, it looks good.

His hands don't shake, now. His heart doesn't race. He doesn't feel sweaty, or upset, or like he'll be sick.

He just feels like he's staring at the solution to all his problems, and all he has to do is swallow it down.

This should feel awful - he knows it should. It should taste awful, there should be something to remind him of the damage he does to himself every time he drinks again. He should hear his sponsor speaking in the back of his mind, he should hear the voices of the others at the meetings he goes to - one for alcoholism, one for survivors of sexual assault, twice a week there's movie star Vincent goddamn Shield among the normal people and admitting he's barely human, just a wreck that only survived Owen Grant because Nat decided she gave a fuck about him for reasons Vince still doesn't understand.

Here he stands, a hollow shell wearing a nice face who let someone else suffer in his place and was grateful for it for far too long.

Kauri hates him but it's nothing compared to how much he hates himself.

Vince lifts the glass, hesitating at the last second with the cool rim just touching his lower lip. Gin smells like blacking out and right now he could use the blessed darkness, hangover be damned.

He can worry about that when the headache kicks in tomorrow morning.

He realizes he's waiting for the sickening crawl of guilt at letting Nat down, at-... at letting himself down. Maybe that will come later, but right now... He feels goddamn good. Settled. Calm.

He and Jameson meet eyes just as he tosses the drink back, three large swallows of juniper-scented gin down his throat like water, leaving only the ice cubes behind.

The burn is perfect.

He pours himself another drink, feeling the warmth slowly spread through his chest to his shoulders, eyes briefly closing. God, it feels like goddamn heaven.

He looks up.

Jameson is still standing there in the doorway, looking oddly soft in a loose sweater that's far too big for him and a pair of old jeans that probably cost a dollar at a yard sale and even that was too much. Vince has jeans that distressed, somewhere.

His cost more than five hundred dollars.

He chokes on the next drink from trying not to laugh.

Jameson's eyes narrow. "What the fuck are you doing?"

"What does it look like I'm doing?" Vince takes another sip, eyes half-closed, letting himself take it slow this time and really enjoy the taste.

He'd honestly been surprised the little liquor store down the block even carried this brand of gin. Not that he wouldn't have bought whatever he could get, when he stood there feeling like he would die if he had to go another day, but still. It's nice to have seen his favorite stuff, top shelf, pricier than it had any right to be. It's not even that good, but it's still his favorite. It still tastes, to him, like the nights he sleeps without nightmares, few and far between.

Gin tastes like those nights he gets to sleep at all.

The cashier had looked surprised as she wiped off the dust and rang it up for him. Then, with a shy smile, she'd asked him if anyone ever told him he looked a lot like Vincent Shield. He'd been kind of sad she didn't card him - it would have been nice to see the look on her face when she saw his name.

Instead, he paid in cash, laughed, and told her the standard I get that a lot, actually.

Jameson doesn't move closer, or leave. "It looks like you're fucking yourself up," He says, lingering in the doorway. "You can't just start drinking again. You know that, right?"

"Oh, I sure as hell can." Vince laughs, but it's a bitter sound. He licks the gin lingering on his lips, then gestures at the bottle. "Have some with me."

He's caught, for just a moment, when he sees Jameson wearing an expression Vince has never seen on him before. He looks... nervous. Afraid, almost, instead of angry.

"I-I don't want to," Jameson says, but there's a way he says it that makes Vince think he'd drink if he offers again. Maybe he wants to, or maybe he just doesn't want to make Vince mad.

If he commanded it, if he gave an order... Jameson would be as he's told, wouldn't he? Damn, that would be some power to have over someone.

This must be why Owen liked it so much.

No.

He won't think about Owen right now.

Vince gulps down liquid until he's breathless, almost panting. The warmth is like the familiar cradle of a softer reality settling in. He makes himself slow down this time, picking up an ice cube and sucking the juniper taste right off it before crunching it with his teeth.

"Vince." Jameson's voice gets harsher, and something seems to break his brief paralysis. He moves closer, grabbing the bottle and pulling it away when Vince puts a hand out to pour the third drink. "Fucking... look at me. What the fuck?"

Vince's hand just... hangs out there, reaching for a bottle that isn't where it was. He stares at the empty space, and feels that dark inside of him threaten to well up yet again. "What?"

Jameson swallows, his eyes moving to the glass, back to Vince's face. He steps backwards, and Vince watches the bottle go with him with a piercing need that could easily knock him off his feet if he weren't holding onto the back of a chair. Jameson clears his throat. "Aren't you... like, sober now?"

"Mmmn. Was. Got the like... three month chip thing and everything." He's gotten thoroughly wasted so many times in his life. Nothing relaxes him better than enough alcohol to force his body to stop living in constant, unending fear of who might hurt him next. "Right now, I am tipsy instead. In about an hour, I'm going to be absolutely fucked up. Give me back my gin."

Jameson's hand moves - then he jerks it back, taking a few steps backwards until he's back in the doorway. His eyes are on Vince's face, watching him with a total focus that Vince recognizes from the others he's worked with over the years - Jameson's just a trained pet, in this moment, watching to see if the master will be angry.

It makes him laugh again, more bitterly this time. Is he the master? Has he ever been his own master, let alone anyone else's?

"I... I can't do that," Jameson says, and Vince hears that he doesn't say no. When Vince moves towards him, he backs up a little more, and Vince comes to a stop just a foot or so away.

"Am... am I scaring you?" He asks, suddenly.

It wasn't what he meant to say, he meant to demand his drink again. Instead, this question that... that just sort of falls out of him like a waterfall.

Jameson's jaw sets and his eyes narrow. "You're not doing shit to me," He snaps, but Vince knows he's really saying yes.

Is this why people buy pets? So they can see something pretend not to be scared, and know they're the monster not just under the bed, but in it?

"Oh," He whispers. "What is it? Why are you scared? I'm just a drunk asshole, why are you scared of me?"

Jameson bristles, but then he offers - as if it's pulled out of him against his will - the softest explanation. "Brute and Robert got drunk all the time. I know what happens when-... when people get this kind of drunk."

There's a look in his eyes Vince has seen before in Kauri's. Not fear of him, not directly, but fear of someone like him, maybe. Fear of having demands made that can't be denied.

Is this how Owen felt, every time Kauri had to playact the loving boyfriend with bruises on his wrists and terror making his heart race? Is this how it feels to have power over somebody else when you can't even control yourself?

It's... it's good, almost.

It feels better than he thought it would.

"Back up, Shield," Jameson hisses, like a cat spitting and arching its back, ready to attack with claws and sharp teeth not because it's confident in victory but because it's so small it has to fight to have even the slightest chance to survive.

Vince looks him over, reading with an actor's expertise how he's projecting a confident swagger he never feels, how the irritation layers itself so carefully over a vulnerability that he sees as weakness. Vince has lived that way, too, since he was twenty-one, since his best friend turned out to be a rapist who wanted Vince to himself, since he started drinking to forget every single night and putting on the perfect face during his days.

They both survived, didn't they?

Jameson just did it by fighting his way out, and Vince by pretending to be someone he wasn't until nobody knew who he actually was, and that's a way of surviving, too. Wear another face, and make sure no one sees the fear in your real one, so they can't refuse to help you... because you've never asked.

"No." At least one of them can say it. Although that makes Vince's heart twist with ugly guilt, the petty cruelty of the thought. "Give me my gin," Vince says, pitching his voice low, and holds out his hand. "Now, Jameson. Give it to me."

"I can't." The strength is gone from Jameson's voice, and he looks at Vince with those dark eyes searching his own, trying to make himself understood. "If you drink, your-... your body's not used to it anymore, if you drink the same amount you'll fucking kill your stupid liver."

"What do you care about my liver?" Vince's voice drops low, almost a whisper. "What do you care about me, about my goddamn joke of a life, huh? What the fuck do you care? Why should anyone care?"

There's a flicker of something in Jameson's eyes - recognition, maybe. Something that lights up, just for a second, before the other man shoves Vince to the side with sudden violent strength and stalks to the sink, turning the bottle over and pouring that expensive artisan gin right down the drain.

"No!" Vince's voice is a ragged shout as he lunges after him, but it's too little too late.

Jameson's foot kicks out and slams into Vince's calf, sending him stumbling, clawing desperately as the gin is gone, glug glug glug, down into the pipes, disappearing towards the ocean.

Rage and terror fight in Vince's mind in a sudden white noise and he gets to his feet, grabbing Jameson by the arms and squeezing as hard as he can, shoving him back across the room. He hears Jameson hit one of the chairs, the clatter of wood and Jameson's grunt of pain as both hit the ground hard. The bottle is in the sink, and even when Vince scrambles to pick it back up, there's less than an inch of gin left.

He sucks it down, and only once he's gotten that final drop does he suddenly go still.

Oh.

There's the guilt and the horror and feeling sick at himself, just... twenty minutes too late. He sets the empty bottle carefully down, and then turns slowly around to look at Jameson.

Jameson sits on the kitchen floor, staring up at him with wide eyes. His face is pale, making the scar that twists the corner of his mouth stand out even more. His hair is nearly grown back in now, the bald patches hidden by the rest.

Vince exhales in a rush. "Oh, hell. Jameson-" He holds out a hand.

Jameson flinches.

Vince pulls his hand back, backing up until his back hits the edge of the sink. "Right. Okay. I'm-... I'm sorry Jameson-"

"Yeah." Jameson's voice is gruff, all the vulnerability and fear wiped away as soon as he realizes it's showing. He gets to his feet, shoulders protectively hunched, arms crossed in front of himself defensively. "Whatever. Sure you are. Drink yourself to death, shitbag, if that's what you want."

"I'm so sorry."

Jameson's jaw works. "... Everybody's always sorry. Then I get fucking hit again." Then he turns and walks - limps, really, his knees threatening to give out with every step - away. Vince stands there, frozen, listening as he makes his slow, painful way up the stairs.

Vince stares at the place he was for a while - he isn't sure how long. The gin is sinking its velvet claws into his mind, and he's drunker than he should be after only two drinks.

But then, it's been months.

Months, he made it without taking even a sip.

He swallows, again and again, and then pulls his cell phone out of his pocket, finds a contact, and presses the button to make the call.

The phone rings until he's certain it'll go to voicemail, before a voice he knows as well as his own is in his ear.

"What the hell do you want?"

"I-I need to talk to you," He stammers, his heart cold. "Please. Please. I-I've been drinking. I need... I need help."

There's a pause.

"From... me?"

"Yeah... yeah. You'll-... I need somebody who won't be nice to me-"

"Oh, well, if there's anything I love it's the chance to be mean to you, let me drop my entire life to come listen to you whine about yours."

"Please."

An exhale. "Whatever. Yeah, okay. I'll be over there in like... half an hour? An hour, maybe. Drink some water and I'll be there as soon as I can. Don't leave the house."

"Thanks... thank you, Kauri."

Kauri hangs up.

Vince pours himself a glass of water over the leftover gin-soaked ice, sipping it, barely flavored with a hint of the liquor he wants so badly. He rights the chair he'd accidentally shoved Jameson into, and listens to the creaking floorboards and muffled cursing above him as Jameson makes his halting painful way from stairway to his room, a couple thumps when he clearly falls and had to force himself back upright, until the pacing abruptly stops when he must have collapsed into his bed.

He hears the gentle patting of Trash Cat's paws as she leaves her place on the living room couch and follows him, too, her soft meowing until Jameson opens his door to let her come in after him. Then silence again.

Vince sits back down at the table, leaning over with his head in his hand, staring as the ice slowly melts, cooling the water around it.

He should have called his sponsor instead.

Whatever Kauri is about to say can only make this worse.

But he deserves it, anyway.

Vince doesn't move a muscle until he hears the sound of Jake's truck pulling into the driveway, crunching briefly over gravel before it's on the pavement again, when he raises his head.

Kauri walks in without knocking, stops in the doorway to the kitchen, and looks at him like his younger self ashamed of what he's grown into. Vince knows Jake must have driven him, but he's nowhere to be seen - maybe just staying outside, for now. He's clearly dressed for bed in a matching navy blue silk button-up and pajama pants, barefoot even.

"Hey," Vince says, weakly. The alcohol feels like poison now, not the soothing warmth it had been before. "I... I fucked up, Kauri."

"Yeah, I can tell just by looking at you, you're a goddamn mess." Kauri looks at Vince head-on, even though it still hurts him to do it, and Vince can see the flinch he suppresses as the headache kicks in. His blue eyes are identical to Vince's in nearly every way, except that Kauri's gaze has always been stronger. "What the hell did you do?"

"I got... I drank."

"Yep. I can see the gin bottle. Did you drink all of it?" Kauri's voice is flat and businesslike. It's like having his own younger self dressing him down, and somehow that feels... really good. Better than he thought it would.

"... No. Just a couple drinks. Jameson poured the rest out."

"Good for him." Kauri flickers a smile. "Where is he?"

"I-... I scared him."

"... you scared him?"

"Yeah. I was-... I wasn't-... I didn't mean to, but-"

"Shut up. All right. Tell me what you did. I'll fix it. This time, taking your place so I suffer for years while you run off and become obscenely wealthy is off the table, got it?"

Vince looks at him in horror only to see a surprising warmth in Kauri's smile. Not... not affection, but something like it. A wry compassion, maybe. Something else he doesn't deserve. "I don't know. I don't know if I can fix this, Kauri. I don't know."

"Well... I happen to the resident expert in trying to avoid dealing with your problems while making them all worse, so talk to me. Tell me what you did, start to finish. We'll figure out what comes next."

Vince lowers his head into his arms.

"Thank you," He says, muffled.

"Not enough thanks in the world, dumbass. Lucky for you I'm an amazing person who just happens to have spent most of my twenties making stupid drunk mistakes. So stop stalling and start talking."

-

@finder-of-rings @endless-whump @arlin-always-writing @newandfiguringitout @doveotions @pretty-face-breaker @gonna-feel-that-tomorrow @boxboysandotherwhump @oops-its-whump @whumpyourdamnpears @cubeswhump  @whump-tr0pes @whumptywhumpdump @whumpiary @orchidscript @outofangband @hackles-up @grizzlie70 @mylifeisonthebookshelf @keeper-of-all-the-random-things @autophagay

#whump #ptsd tw #alcholism tw #withdrawal tw #alcoholic whumpee #recovering whumpee #recovery whump #vincent shield is not a hero #erase to control #since kauri makes an appearance #jameson bb #box boy universe #drunk whumpee #whumpee turned whumper #briefly and not on purpose

[needcake]

day 7: you make it possible

Engport | G | 290 words

@engportevents

.

.

The kids fell asleep half-way through the animated movie, but Gabriel was too tired, too loose-limbed, too comfortable to move. He looked at Arthur beside him, Leon nestled right above his chest falling and rising with every one of Arthur’s breaths, face scrunched and pressed into Arthur’s shirt, and he smiled. He wouldn’t have thought any of this would have been possible eight years ago, when they started the adoption process.

There were times he had doubted it, had thought of giving up. The bureaucracy alone had probably shaved off ten years of his life. But Arthur had remained steady, a life-line during the storm for both of them.

He lifted his hand to tuck a few strands of dirty blond hair behind his ear, careful not to jolt Vicente sleeping on his lap, and Arthur turned his eyes from the movie playing on their television to look at him.

He had never thought when he met him, a scrawny punk teenager with green hair and a fading black eye from a fight, friend of a friend of his brother’s, that they would have come this far, that they would have stick together this long, that one day they would build a family together.

Arthur leaned into his hand and smiled back, tired and loose-limbed and comfortable, and Gabriel leaned over to kiss him softly on the lips, thinking he should have known, even then he should have known, when the two of them were sitting on the pier, far away from the rest of the group, dangling beer bottles between their open legs and trading silly stories to make each other laugh.

He should have known he had been one of the lucky ones to find love on the first try.

.

#engportweekevent #engportweek #engport #hws england #hws portugal #hetalia #hws macau #hws hong kong #(but the boys only show up briefly) #this is my last entry #thank you all so much for keeping up with my irregular posting this year! hahaha #can't promise it won't happen again :') #until next year! #a wild fic appears

[hajihiko]

can i take a guess and say xion + either riku or aqua were your faves,,, (not the same anon)

Actually Xigbar of all people was my fave. Preteen me loved that old fart. When I played KH1 I was kinda like, too young to conceptualize stuff as much?? I think the orange girl (selphie I had to google it lol) from the islands was my fave lol because I thought she was pretty ♡

#Later on when I was a little clevererer I loved Roxas and Axel (Axel largely bc he reminded me of Reno FinalFantasy who was also a huge fav #But also I am now old enough to appreciate Sora the most generic protagonist ever whom I still love so much my BABY boy #I think its just cuz he influenced my childhood. He is now my little guy #Not an art #Talky talky Tuesday #Oh I loved Yuffie too even tho she appeared very briefly #This was before I was really allowed on the internet so I just frantically googled YUFFIE PICTURE and stared lovingly at concept art lmao #When I beat Kh1 (with help) and they had that image of the gang at the end I asked my brother to plz not turn off the playstation #Bc I was so emotional and I was like 'I DOnT wAnT THeM to GO AWAY...' #And that is when I became obsessed with the whole Friends As Family thing #Probably. Maybe sooner tbh

[mariocki]

Sweetheart: Sex, boys and girls, is a matter a' one a vese findin' one a' vese an' 'en 'ammerin' back an' forward like a steam 'ammer fer a couple a' minutes. Any questions?

Iron: Vis still don' rung chroo ter me Sweet'eart.

Sweetheart: Sex is wot 'appens when a boy bumble bee buzzes 'frough ver fields in summer an' sees a flower. When 'e sees ver flower, ver bumble bee buzzes up to it an' 'overs over it. Ven 'e fucks it rigid. Thass sex. Oh - an' birds do it an' all.

-

Nigel Williams, Class Enemy (1978)

#100plays #class enemy #modern drama #nigel williams #theatre quotes #modern theatre #sweetheart is an interesting character. he's probably the least developed of the boys‚ or at least the one about whom the least is learnt #acting more as an uneasy middleman between the pairings of Skylight and Racks‚ and Iron and Nipper #but i think it's significant that in the introductory stage directions Sweetheart is described as the smartest (in terms of appearance not #intelligence) and 'prettiest' of the boys. there isn't a great deal of significant dialogue from him‚ but there's enough that could #make an argument for him being (quite subtly) queer coded. his nickname as well (the boys all seem to have accepted their #nicknames and consider them their 'real' names) #could be interpreted as a comment on possible flamboyance or campness (something which isn't exactly directly found in the text #but which would be very easy to affect in performance of the role). at the same time it isn't so textual that a production would by #necessity play the part as gay; and equally i might be reaching. but it's interesting to consider. #oh and the reason i mention flamboyance; Sweetheart is also the most theatrical of the boys. each teaches a lesson and whilst he goes #first he's also the only one (barring Skylight‚ who uses a very different approach) to try and inhabit the role of Teacher as a performance #he also briefly mentions his affinity for impressions #including Angela Rippon (then perhaps best known for her show stealing turn on the 1976 Morecambe and Wise xmas #special‚ where she emerged from behind her newsdesk to perform a seductive dance...)

[gigizetz]

alright so THE UNDERWORLD SAGA

I was expecting none of the songs to sound as badass as they sound. I thought this would be one of the quietest sagas, as in the songs would be more focused on introspection and stuff like that. But boy was I wrong

Like, the songs are like that and MORE. Specially No Longer You, which is such an unexpected banger for me. My favorite is Monster obviously, which made me realize that in all sagas the last songs are my favorites. So as I said in another post, Monster will be the animatic I'll be working on for now.

In Monster I'll present a little someone that appeared briefly in my Just a Man animatic last year. This shadow figure in the mirror

This is how I envision the "Monster", this dark reflection of Odysseus. When I did this part of the animatic I was already planning on bringing this figure back for when the underworld saga come out. YEAH THIS IS A YEAR LONG SET UP THAT I WAS WAITING PATIENTLY TO PAY OFF.

So my animatic of Monster is probably going to be my personal favorite. I have a lot of cool ideas planned, complicated shots that I still have no idea how I'll pull off and delicious, juicy angst

#epic the musical #epic: the musical #greek myths #animatic #epic the underworld saga

[kimkaelyn]

Ditto [s. todoroki]

𝒮𝓉𝒶𝓎 𝒾𝓃 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓂𝒾𝒹𝒹𝓁𝑒, 𝐿𝒾𝓀𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒶 𝓁𝒾𝓉𝓉𝓁𝑒, 𝒟𝑜𝓃'𝓉 𝓌𝒶𝓃𝓉 𝓃𝑜 𝓇𝒾𝒹𝒹𝓁𝑒, 𝒮𝒶𝓎 𝒾𝓉, 𝓈𝒶𝓎 𝒾𝓉 𝒷𝒶𝒸𝓀, 𝑜𝒽 𝓈𝒶𝓎 𝒾𝓉 𝒹𝒾𝓉𝓉𝑜 — 𝒟𝒾𝓉𝓉𝑜, 𝒩𝑒𝓌𝒥𝑒𝒶𝓃𝓈

→ summary: when you transferred to U.A., you didn't anticipate slipping on a pair of chopsticks in the middle of the crowded cafeteria during your first week. however, what was more surprising was the unexpected fall for the boy who gracefully caught you.

→ pairing: shouto todoroki x fem!reader

→ genre: fluff, strangers to friends to lovers

→ word count: 13.1k

→ warnings & tags: sfw, female pronouns are used, usage of y/n l/n, Class 1-A are now third-year students aka 18+, swearing, the usual U.A. chaos, reader has a Quirk, misunderstandings, some training violence, minor injuries, mentions and discussions of insecurities, aizawa briefly belittles the reader as a form of motivation, beginnings of a panic attack but it's cut short, there is one instance of the reader appearing to be ‘flushed’ in regards to a fever, since this is my first bnha fic some characters might be ooc? | please kindly let me know if I missed any tags!

→ author's note: AHHHH HERE IT IS! I've been working on this for almost a year now and I am so excited to finally share it with all of you. Honestly, I didn't think I would ever finish this story, but I kept slowly chipping away at it thanks in part to the encouragement from @andypantsx3, @missrosegold, and @getstarried. Special thanks to @pikatsum for beta-reading this for me! Thank you girls. This is for you🫶🏻

The cafeteria at U.A. High School was a pretty chaotic environment, you quickly learned within your first week after transferring from another Hero Course in the countryside. There were multiple things that could and would happen after the famous students had gotten some much-needed nutrients in their systems.

It was only three days into the school year and nothing had happened just yet, but in the U.A. world, that something was overdue.

The first chaotic event of the year that everyone had been anxiously—or in some cases, excitingly—waiting for happened on Thursday.

The day started off average; you got to school with three minutes to spare, which was a new record, but you had forgotten your pencil pouch in your dorm room, so you had to borrow some pencils from a girl who sat in front of you; Mina Ashido.

“Thank you,” you whispered as you took the pastel pink utensil from her. There was even a cute little fluffy puffball at the end in exchange for an eraser. Good thing you had an eraser in your bag.

“No problem! I gotcha!” She physically lit up and gave you a bright smile before turning back to focus on the blackboard.

You somehow managed to get through your morning classes running on the four hours of sleep you got the night before. You were cutting it quite close to passing out at your desk during calculus class, but you were saved by the lunch bell.

As soon as you stepped foot into the hallway, you were wrapped up in the faint, delicious scent of your favorite food coming from the cafeteria. Your mouth instantly watered, and you made a mad dash for the source of the delicious scent.

“Hey!” a sharp voice made you freeze in your steps. You glanced over your shoulder to find Tenya Iida, Class 3-A’s representative, glaring at you. The light reflecting off his glasses made him appear more threatening than he really was, but regardless, you still found yourself shying away from his harsh glare and rapid-moving hands. As they passed by, some students gave you apologetic smiles while others were not shy about openly staring at the scene before them, wondering what you possibly could have done to induce the wrath of the student representative. “There is to be no running in the halls!” You cowered some more at his brisk and overly formal tone.

Geez, what a stuck-up, you thought to yourself.

“My apologies, Iida.” You respond with a bow. He accepted your apology with a curt nod before he continued on his way to the cafeteria.

You waited for him to pass before rising from your bow. “Wow, he makes it feel like I broke the law or something.” You mused aloud.

“Don’t take it personally,” a comforting voice said from behind you. You turned to find Momo Yaoyorozu, Ochako Uraraka, and Tsuyu Asui standing before you. Ochako gave you a slight wave in greeting. “Iida can be quite demanding,” Yaoyorozu reassured you.

“Thank you.”

Tsuyu regarded you with gentle onyx eyes. “It’s L/N, right?”

You smiled, happy that she remembered your name from roll call. “Y-yeah! I’m Y/N L/N.” You introduced yourself. “I, um, already know who you guys are.” You suddenly felt shy, and you bashfully rubbed the back of your neck out of nervous habit.

Before your transfer was finalized, you did extensive research into your future school’s history and future classmates. Thankfully—or unfortunately, depending on how you look at it—a lot of information is public knowledge; the various attacks on the school in the year leading up to and the conclusion of the War between the Paranormal Liberation Front and the Heroes, not to mention the various televised sports festivals, and the fact that the members of Class 1-A are practically household names even before their graduation.

The girls invited you to sit with them in the cafeteria. You had been keeping to yourself the first few days of school, choosing to observe from afar the already established social circles and friend groups. You had waited for an invitation to join one of said groups, and here was your opportunity.

The four of you made small talk as you made your way through the lunch line and to the table. Right away, Asui told you to call her by her given name. You told them about your life growing up in the countryside—with you and Uraraka bonding over your shared reason for becoming Pro Heroes—about the friends you had, embarrassingly funny stories from your junior high days, and eventually what led you to transfer to U.A.

“Well, this is the best Hero Course in the country!” you all laughed. “But to be frank, the only teacher at my old academy who could handle my Quirk retired, and none of the other academies within the prefecture had the resources to help me advance. Plus, my mentor is an U.A. alumnus, so naturally, the only other choice was U.A.”

Yaoyorozu hummed. “It is a shame about your mentor retiring, but that is what led you to transfer to U.A., and for that, I am grateful.” The class vice representative regarded you kindly. “I am a firm believer of things happening for a reason, and your transfer doesn’t change that.”

Uraraka nodded her agreement. “Momo’s right. U.A. is a place where anybody can make a difference, and I think you will find success here.”

You were rendered speechless. The tips of your ears turned red as your classmates regarded you with so much hope and sincerity in their eyes. “Uh . . . I,” you bashfully scratched the back of your head. Not knowing how to respond, you instead reached for the small bottle of milk on your lunch tray and brought it to your lips.

However, before you could take a sip, a BOOM erupted from the front of the cafeteria, accompanied by a gruff voice yelling, “Don’t walk in front of me, Icy-Hot!” You reflexively jolted at the loud noises and lost your grip on the glass, spilling the half-full bottle all over the front of your uniform.

“Shit,” you exclaimed as you instinctually rose from your seat, only to quickly sit down again when the liquid started to fall to the floor. The girls gasped and were quick to hand you all the napkins in the vicinity.

“Are you okay, Y/N?” Asui asked as she watched you pat down your sodden skirt.

“Yeah, I’m okay.” You waved off her concern as you continued to wipe away the remaining liquid. The napkins managed to soak up most of it, but your skirt was still damp. If you didn’t change skirts, you were going to smell of milk for the rest of the day, and you didn’t want to start off the school year with a reputation for smelling vile. “I’m going to go back to the dorm really quickly and change into a clean uniform. Please let Mr. Snipe know that I will be late for class.”

“Do you want us to accompany you?” Yaoyorozu asked. She began to rise from her seat, but you stopped her.

“No, no. I’m okay, really.” You gave her what you hoped to be a reassuring grin instead of a grimace. “Thank you for offering, Yaoyorozu, but I’ll be fine.” Before your classmates could respond, you stood from the table and made your way to the exit.

Great, this is just great, you thought as you walked, not really paying attention to where you were going. As soon as I make some friends, I make a fool of myself.

Unbeknownst to you, there was an obstacle in the aisle directly ahead. You were too distracted by your growing inner turmoil to notice the pair of metal chopsticks lying on the ground before you until your foot made contact and slipped out from under you.

It all happened so fast that you couldn’t even react.

Time froze as you became weightless, and you felt your body become briefly suspended in the air. Before you could react and rotate your body to prevent yourself from violently banging your head on the tiled floor, gravity took hold and yanked you back down toward the ground. You squeezed your eyes shut, not wanting to witness your classmates’ reactions to your misfortune.

Great, now I’m gonna embarrass myself in front of the entire school. Fuck you, chopsticks.

You prepared yourself for the pain of hitting the hard floor but were shocked when you were suddenly wrapped in a chilled warmth. You did slam into a hard surface, but this didn’t feel like the cold tile you expected.

“Are you all right?” a voice asked from above. You opened your eyes, only to find yourself captivated by a beautiful graphite and turquoise gaze. Your mouth opened to respond to the inquiry, but you couldn’t speak. This strange yet calming gaze hypnotized you, causing the rest of the world to fade into a buzzing silence. You watched as the perfect eyebrows of the owner of those magical eyes furrowed downward at your prolonged silence, the action momentarily drawing your attention.

With your attention span no longer zeroed in on the heterochromatic gaze, the world around you suddenly slammed back into your senses at full force. The volume of your fellow classmates’ conversations was deafening at first, but your ears grew accustomed once again to zone them out and focus on the person before you.

It took about thirty seconds for the entirety of your current predicament to register within your brain.

You were hanging about ten centimeters off the ground. The only thing keeping you upright and injury-free was Shouto Todoroki’s firm grip on your wrist.

“Um, hello?” the dual-haired teenager once again drew your attention to him. His grip slightly tightened before he tugged you up onto your feet.

“I think you broke her, Icy-Hot.” A rough voice drawled from your peripheral.

The intrusion of the other voice is what finally brought you out of your stunned silence. “No, I’m okay. Not broken.”

“Did you hit your head?” Todoroki inquired. He steadied you on your feet but didn’t release your wrist from his hold. Katsuki Bakugou was standing off to the side, trying to appear like he wasn’t involved with either one of you.

“I-I don’t think so.” As you reached down to brush yourself off, you caught a whiff of the unflattering scent of old milk emitting from your clothes. You held back your gag and turned to face Todoroki and Bakugou. “I’m sorry to rush, but I really do need to go.” You gave a quick bow. “Thank you for catching me, Todoroki. Bye!”

The two boys watched you sprint away like a bat out of hell. “T’fuck is her problem,” Bakugou muttered. “Fuckin’ extra makin’ me late for lunch.”

Todoroki didn’t respond to his classmate’s remarks. His lips pursed together as he watched you nearly run into a couple of first years before you disappeared around a corner, out of sight.

“Don’ even think ‘bout it, Icy-Hot.” Bakugou drawled from beside him. Todoroki cocked an eyebrow, the only sign of emotion on his otherwise indifferent expression. “Gettin’ involved with ‘hat extra will ruin your precious bloodline.”

You tried to forget about the cafeteria incident, but the embarrassing ordeal refused to secede from the forefront of your mind. As you lay in bed that night, your thoughts ran a hundred kilometers a minute, antagonizing and overanalyzing every second of what had happened.

As the night dragged on, your thoughts shifted from the overall event to one single individual: Shouto Todoroki. You knew who he was, of course. You didn’t grow up underneath a rock. Yet, you weren’t prepared for how much more handsome he was in person than on the news or in photos.

You overanalyzed everything he did in the brief two minutes you were blessed to be in his company, every word he said, and every brief flash of emotion that showed in his heterochromatic eyes. Todoroki had tried to approach you after training in Ground Beta once you had returned from the dorms, but you avoided him, not wanting to face him again so soon after the embarrassing first meeting.

By Sunday, you had begun to forget about your embarrassing cafeteria incident. Your newfound friends didn’t bring up the spilled milk, and thankfully, they didn’t see you slip on the chopsticks and fall into Shouto Todoroki’s muscular arms. You breathed a sigh of relief when you found out that last part. You didn’t want them to think you were a total klutz.

Todoroki may think otherwise.

As you were rounding the corner to walk back up the stairs to head back to your dorm room, Todoroki happened to be walking down. You both turned at the same time and walked straight into each other.

He wasn’t fazed by the sudden collision; however, you were taken completely off guard. No matter how strong you may be, suddenly walking into about a hundred kilos of pure muscle would make anyone stumble. While he remained steadily standing, you, on the other hand, fell back onto your ass.

It took about three seconds for the two of you to comprehend what the hell had just happened. You groaned out when pain flashed across your backside.

“My apologies, I did not see you.” Todoroki said as he offered you a hand. You begrudgingly accepted his assistance, face heating as your super handsome classmate helped you to your feet for the second time in a week.

“Thank you,” you bowed your head to him. You brushed away some dust from your sweatpants, finding yourself too shy to look back up.

You felt a firm, yet gentle hand land on your shoulder. You jerked your head upwards to meet Todoroki’s captivating gaze. “Are you injured?” His heterochromatic eyes searched you for any injury, and they glimmered with relief when he found none.

“No, I’m okay,” you reassured the male. “I may be a little bruised in the morning, but I will be fine.” Not to mention my bruised ego.

Todoroki hummed in acknowledgment, his hand still resting on your shoulder. His eyes were hyper-fixated on you, leaving you to feel bare under his intense gaze.

You shifted your weight back and forth as the silence between you dragged on for a couple more seconds. “Um, I—” You cleared your throat. “I should be on my way now. Got things to study, you know.” You told him with an awkward laugh.

You moved to step around him when it became obvious he wasn’t going to move. Your movements are what must have shaken him out of his stupor, with him bashfully stepping to the side to allow you access to the stairway.

“Right.” He said as you walked by. “Take care, Y/N.” You startled at his sudden usage of your given name, but nevertheless, you felt oddly relieved. You smiled shyly and bid him goodbye. Nothing else was said between the two of you, but you felt his eyes on you as you walked up the stairs.

I hope he likes cinnamon; you thought as you peered into the oven.

To be fair, you should have considered that before laboring for over two hours making kinako cinnamon cookies from scratch—which absolutely failed. Therefore, as a last resort, you were forced to run to the store and buy a box mix.

The he in question?

Shouto Todoroki.

It had been several days since your embarrassing first interaction with the dual-haired male and forty-five hours since your second, literal, run-in—not that you were keeping track, of course.

You wanted to do something nice for him as a way to apologize for your newfound clumsiness and thank him for his assistance in both instances. Your calligraphy skills were not . . . up to par, so to say, by any means, so a handmade thank-you card was off the table, and you highly doubt Todoroki was a flower guy. Not to mention his affluent background, so buying him a gift or offering to take him out to dinner was null—and way too straightforward for two people who were barely even acquaintances.

Therefore, you were left with only one option: homemade cookies.

Besides, all the old aunties back home always said the quickest way to win anyone over was through food.

“Ooooh, something smells amazing!” someone exclaimed from the stairway. Smiling slyly to yourself, you turned away from the oven to the new arrival.

You hadn’t interacted much with Rikido Sato save for the casual good morning greetings and thanking him for the delicious red velvet cupcake he baked for you as a welcoming gift to U.A.

“Thanks,” you said, grinning at the male.

The combined low mutterings of more approaching classmates brought your and Sato’s attention to the doorway where Mina Ashido, Eijirou Kirishima, Denki Kaminari, and Hanta Sero were entering the dorm.

“Woah something smells fantastic!” Kaminari said, gazing into the kitchen in hopes of spotting the source of the delicious scent.

“Yeah, it does!” Kirishima agreed.

“Oh my gosh, what is it?” Ashido asked as she walked over. Her eyes lit up when she spotted you. “L/N! Did you make something?”

“I did.” You confirmed with a slight nod. “I’m making kinako cinnamon cookies.”

“Oooooh, yummy!” the pinkette exclaimed as she bounced over to peer into the oven. Your other classmates quickly joined her, all of them staring into the soft, golden light of the oven with stars in their eyes.

“They look so good!” Kaminari was practically drooling at the tawny treats. At that moment, the timer went off with a soft ting! You politely shooed your classmates back as you pulled a hand towel over your hands.

“Step back, everyone,” you warned as you opened the oven door. “They’re going to be hot.” You carefully reached in and grabbed the cooking tray, cautiously sliding it off the rack and fully into your cloth-covered hands. Despite taking precautions, you hissed as the hot aluminum seeped through the towel and made contact with your flesh. As quickly as you could without dropping the pan of cookies, you turned and set it down on the kitchen island.

“These look delicious!”

“Woah, man, they look amazing!”

“I bet they taste as scrumptious as they lo—”

You zoned out the boys’ compliments as you moved to the sink and turned on the tap.

“L/N, are you okay?” Ashido asked as she followed you. Her question caught the other's attention, and they, too, turned to watch you quizzingly.

“Yes, I’m fine.” Your response ended with a wince as your skin made contact with the cool water.

“Here, let me see,” Ashido gestured to your hand. With your permission, she took your wrist with gentle fingers and held it up for you both to inspect. Your skin was reddened slightly, but it wasn’t anything serious. You let out a sigh of relief. “It’s not serious, thankfully, but we should still put some burn cream on it just in case,” Ashido advised as she turned off the tap.

You nodded your head again and followed the pink-haired girl as she went to retrieve the first-aid kit. Before you walked too far from the kitchen, you shouted over your shoulder to your classmates, “Please don’t eat the cookies, boys! They are still hot and are for someone special!”

There was a noticeable delay in response to your warning. After a pregnant pause, there was a muffled, “okamph!” in response. You were about to turn around and make sure that they weren’t eating your treats, but Ashido calling your name changed your plans.

“Let’s fix you up, yeah?” She said as you both entered the girls' bathroom. Ashido gestured for you to sit on the counter while she dug through the first-aid kit for burn cream.

“Thank you, Ashido,” you said a few moments later as she lightly applied the cream to the worst of the reddening. Your skin wasn’t blistering, which was a good sign, but it was beginning to ache.

“No problem,” she replied. She began to gently rub the cream into your skin, mindful of the sore spots. She beamed at you as she said, “And you can just call me Mina. We are friends!”

You smiled at her. “Okay, Mina.” The two of you were silent for a couple of minutes as Mina continued to dress your burns.

“So,” she started, breaking the silence. “Who did you make the cookies for?”

You sharply inhaled. “W-what? What do you mean?” You tried to play it off by playing dumb, but Mina gave you an are you kidding me look.

“Don’t play that game with me, girl.” She scolded you. “So, tell me, who is this ‘special someone’?”

You let out a heavy sigh, dropping your shoulders in defeat. “One of our classmates. . .” You trailed off, turning away from the pinkette, and absentmindedly twirling a strand of hair around your finger.

Mina’s eyes lit up and her eyebrows shot up to her hairline. “Oh my God, seriously?!?” She squealed. You turned to face her again. “Girl, you absolutely gotta tell me! Who is it?!” She went to grab ahold of your hands but stopped herself when she remembered your injury. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay.” You said. “But, um, I—” You hesitated, searching for the right words, but you couldn’t find them. “I’m sorry, but I can’t.” You said, barely above a whisper, turning away from your classmate once more in embarrassment.

Mina leaned back, taken by surprise by your change of tone. She studied you for a few seconds, her expression falling when she saw the look on your face; the clenching of your jaw.

“It’s okay, girl,” she reassured you. She set the roll of bandages down on the counter as she finished wrapping your hand. “You don’t have to tell me who your crush is if you don’t want to.”

You whipped back around to face her, eyes wide. “C-crush?!” you stammered out. “W-what?! I don’t have a crush! I never said I did.” you explained.

“Yeah, sure,” Mina smirked at you, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “You wouldn’t of baked cookies for them if you didn’t like them.”

“Um, because I’m nice?” you asked with a lilt in your voice. Mina does have a point, though, you thought.

Mina laughed. “Yeah, sure. Let’s go with that.”

A couple of minutes later, you and the pinkette exited the bathroom, laughing over something Mina had said. Your hand had been expertly wrapped and treated with some burn cream. Your injury didn’t even hurt anymore, but you were still going to check in tomorrow with Recovery Girl as a precaution.

As you rounded the corner to go back into the kitchen, you stopped dead in your tracks as your eyes fell to the now-empty pan where twenty cookies sat not even ten minutes ago. Mina stopped next to you, and you could see her giving you a questionable look, but you didn’t—couldn’t—acknowledge her. You just stared blankly at the pan, trying to process what you were seeing.

What the hell? you thought.

“Ah, man,” a voice drawled out. You slowly turned towards the source; Denki Kaminari. He was lounging against the counter as he rubbed his stomach for emphasis. “Those cinnamon kinako cookies were delicious!” Your brain blanked out when you heard that, the organ pathetically trying to comprehend and respond to the current situation.

“You’re telling me!” Kirishima piped up from beside the blond. Sero and Sato voiced their agreement from where they were seated on the couches. “They really hit the spot after the day I had.” The redhead noticed you and Mina. “Hey, guys, welcome back!” he greeted with a wave, a broad smile overtaking his features. “How’s your hand?”

You did not formulate an answer right away, your brain still processing the crumbled remains of your cookies. Your delay didn’t go unnoticed by the others, but before they could question it, Mina came to your rescue.

“It’s okay! Y/N is alright, nothing major.” She informed them. Kirishima’s gaze left you to focus on the pinkette by your side, but Kaminari’s remained transfixed on your blank expression.

“Oh, well, that’s great to hear! I was worried—”

“But you should be ashamed!” Mina cut the redhead off, tone sharp as a blade. “All of you.”

“What—?”

“Mina, why—?”

Kirishima and Kaminari spoke at once, their voices clashing, but the pinkette interrupted them once more.

“Y/N didn’t make those cookies for you.” She said. “She made them for someone special, yet you guys ate them even after she told you not to.” She just about bit the last part out. The boys gaped at Mina, her scolding catching them by surprise.

“Is that true?” Sato asked, rising from the couch to approach you. Everyone fixated their attention on you, waiting for a response.

You hesitated at the sudden limelight, and also in shyness. When you originally set out to bake the kinako cookies for Todoroki, you didn’t expect them to 1.) burn your hand and 2.) for them to be eaten by others. Even though you were upset, you didn’t want the others to be ashamed or scolded. But they did eat them after I told them not to, you thought, pondering your next move.

After a few moments, you squared your shoulders and steadily said, “Yes. I . . . made them for somebody.” At your words, the room’s atmosphere soured. The boys’ shoulders slumped as they realized their mistake.

“Shoot, L/N, I’m sorry,” Kaminari said, stepping forward to gently grab your uninjured hand and bow.

“Yeah,” Kirishima added, scratching the back of his neck and looking away slightly. “That wasn’t really manly of us.”

“Yeah, sorry,” Sero intoned, looking sheepish.

Sato came to stand in front of you next to Kaminari, who still had a gentle hold of your hand. “I’ll be more than happy to remake the cookies for you.” He said. “If you want that, of course.”

You smiled, though it was closed-lipped. “Thank you, Sato, but not today.” He bowed his head.

Suddenly, the front doors slammed open, startling the six of you. You all watched, shell-shacked—you did, at least—as a fuming Bakugou stepped inside, loudly exclaiming, “I had ‘hat dumbass villain handled! Damn Sidekick extra jus’ had to step ‘n and—” He noticed your little group gaping at him. “The hell ‘re ya fools lookin’ at?” As the words left his mouth, the other two members of the infamous U.A. trio entered as well.

“Kacchan,” Izuku Midoriya said, trying to placate the explosive male. “He was just trying to . . .” The rest of his sentence fizzled into the background as the entirety of your attention span landed on Shouto Todoroki.

It had already been well-established that the youngest Todoroki son was even more handsome in person, but seeing him in his Hero costume did things to you. Your mouth almost dropped open to gawk at his god-like appearance, but you clenched your jaw tightly shut to avoid that catastrophe. Despite that, you were pretty positive your eyes were as wide as saucers, greedily taking every inch of him in as if it were the last time you would see him.

I should sue him for the cost of my medical bills when I develop heart palpitations, you thought.

“Shut the hell up, ya stupid nerd.” Bakugou snapped at a sputtering Midoriya, drawing your attention once more. You could practically see the steam coming out of his ears.

“Is he always this angry?” you asked under your breath; half-serious, half-rhetorical.

“Oh, yeah,” Mina confirmed, voice just as low.

Sero snickered from his post next to Sato. “You get used to it after a while,” he reassured you.

One of Kirishima’s blinding smiles makes its appearance once again. “Katsuki’s always been passionate about, well, everything.” He told you, not bothering to lower his voice. “It’s who he is. We love him regardless.”

Sato chimed in with, “Platonically.” The boys snickered and Mina rolled her eyes, yet there was a small smile playing on her lips.

“Even though his sour attitude can be harsh and lowkey over the top,” Kaminari began, eyes shining with mischief. “It sure makes him fun to mess with!” Your companions groaned in exasperation and started to voice their reservations.

“No, Denki. Leave him be—” Mina urged him.

“Awe, come on, man. Don’t—”

“Heyy~ Katsuki,” Kaminari crooned, rocking back on his heels as the pale blond’s attention zeroed in on him. Kirishima and Sato facepalmed. “Why have trouble catching a ‘dumbass villain’?” he teased. “Bad day? Your head not in the game?” The hair on your arms rose to attention as an electric charge swept the room, putting everyone on edge. Kaminari’s baiting also drew the attention of the explosive male’s companions. Your eyes briefly met captivating graphite and turquoise, eliciting a sharp gasp to leave your lungs.

“You’re gonna regret the day you were born, dumbass!” Bakugou bellowed, pointing an accusatory finger at the electric blond, snapping your attention from the hypnotizing gaze. You fully expected him to charge the male, already taking a cautionary step back, but instead of explosions ripping apart the building, Bakugou grunted and moved towards the showers.

Mina turned to the blond and shouted, “Now why did you do that, Denki? You know better than to rile Katsuki up like that!”

Kirishima dragged a large hand down his face before running it through his unruly red locks. “I’ll go check on him,” he announced before jogging after the sandy-blond. You were at a loss for words as you continued to watch your classmates scold a shit-grinning Kaminari, not even the tiniest bit remorseful for his teasing of Bakugou.

“Please don’t take Kacchan’s rashness to heart.” A new voice piped up. You turned to meet the electric green gaze of none other than Izuku Midoriya, the new generation’s proclaimed Symbol of Peace. “I’m s-sorry, I don’t think we have properly met. I’ve been in and out of campus lately—with missions and such.” He practically skipped over to stand in front of you. He smiled brightly as he gently took your hands in his large, calloused ones. “I’m Izuku Midoriya. I’m so happy you are here at U.A.!” he excitedly exclaimed, lightly squeezing your entwined hands. You couldn’t hide your wince and small gasp of pain as Midoriya unknowingly squeezed your burns. The green-haired male let go of your hands so fast as if he was the one burned instead of you, eyes growing wide. “Oh my gosh, are you okay?!” he asked, noticing the bandages wrapped tightly around your hand. Midoriya’s frenzy caught the other's attention, and all eyes were on you yet again.

The tips of your ears grew hot at the unwavering attention from the Heroes-in-training—especially from a certain icy-hot male who made your heart falter in its beating. “Y-yeah, I’m f-fine.” You stuttered as you met each of your classmate's gazes, trying to reassure them of your stability.

“What happened?” Todoroki inquired, eyes hawkishly zeroed in on your face.

“U-um, well . . .” you trailed off, words fading from your brain as you slightly cowered under his unwavering attention. “I—”

“She burned herself while baking kinako cookies,” Sero spoke for you, having caught onto your growing anxiousness. You didn’t miss Todoroki’s eyes narrowing at the black-haired male’s words. Sato and Kaminari made noises of agreement, the blond absentmindedly rubbing his stomach in content.

Midoriya’s eyes shined. “Really? You did?!” He looked behind you to the kitchen, eyes searching for the aforementioned treats. “Where are they?” he asked when he didn’t spot any, only a plate littered with crumbs. He turned his attention back to you. You opened your mouth to answer, but a wave of shame overcame you as your eyes once again met those of the one you had made the cookies for.

Mina noticed your hesitation, giving you a knowing look as she answered for you. “The three idiots to your left ate them all,” she said with a little bite to her words, glaring daggers at the culprits. “After they were specifically told not to.” She reaffirmed. The boys shuddered at the reminder of their disobedience. The pinkette turned her attention back to the green-haired and dual-haired males. “I patched her up, though. The burns are minor.”

Midoriya nodded his head in understanding. “You should still see Recovery Girl,” he instructed, unashamedly expressing his concern for someone he had just properly met. “At least let her take a look at it.”

“I’m going to stop by to see her in the morning,” you reassured him, words coming back now that your mind was a little clear. His shoulders slumped in relief.

“You should rest, Y/N.” Todoroki’s searing gaze trailed over your form, calculating eyes searching for any additional outward signs of injury or discomfort. “After suffering an injury, no matter how insignificant, rest is important.” He softly chided.

“R-right.” You stammered out, at a loss for how else to respond to your handsome classmate's concern other than compliance. A wave of exhaustion washed over you at that moment. Your feet stumbled as you became lightheaded for a split second. You noticed the dual-haired male take a step towards you, catching onto your sudden exhaustion, but you quickly rightened yourself. “Thank you, Todoroki.” You’re not exactly sure why you thanked him, or what for. His concern, perhaps? He subtly nodded as you turned from the small group, breathlessly mumbling some sort of farewell and something about retiring to your room for the rest of the day.

The others muttered their goodbyes as you made your way to the stairwell.

As you walked up the stairs, head hung low, your throat began to burn and your vision began to blur with tears. The first one fell when you reached your floor, quickly followed by a couple more. You wiped them away, sniffing, as you made your way to your door. You didn’t react to the sudden presence next to you and the weight draped around your shoulders.

Mina didn’t say anything, only traced comforting circles into your back as tears flowed freely down your cheeks.

The next day, you and your classmates were gathered outside Gym Gamma for an impromptu training session. You were surprised that Class 3-A still regularly trained together, but in your defense, that assumption came from someone who didn’t have many options when it came to sparing partners up until your transfer—a major shortcoming in retrospect.

“Today we are working on ‘last stand’ combat.” Mr. Aizawa drawled in his natural I Don’t Give A Fuck tone. “Close-quarter combat in which a violent assailant has obtained the upper hand and corners you in an attempt to defeat you.” He proceeded to explain the instructions of the training exercise and pair the students into groups of four who would take turns being the Heroes and the assailants.

“Midoriya will be with Jirou.” Mr. Aizawa intoned, briefly glancing at the two students to confirm they heard. “Todoroki will be with L/N.” Your muscles stiffened when you heard that. Your heart began to race as you watched the red-and-white-haired male make his way over to you.

“H-hi,” you greeted him, giving a soft smile.

“Hello,” he said, politely inclining his head. “I look forward to working with you.”

“Same here.” You said before facing forward once more as the first group began their round. You and Todoroki observed the match in silence, with you paying extra attention to your classmates’ movements and taking mental notes of how they incorporated their Quirks into hand-to-hand combat.

The sound of approaching footsteps drew your attention. Expecting the new additions to be Ochako and Asui, you turned to greet them with a warm smile but paused when instead of your friends, Midoriya and Kyoka Jirou were standing next to you, both with warm expressions on their faces.

“Hi!” Midoriya greeted with a wide smile and a small wave. “I’m excited for this training exercise! It’s going to be so cool to see everyone’s improvement with hand-to-hand combat over the break! And any new moves! Or Quirk Awakenings! Or—” You had a hard time keeping up with what he was saying as it turned into a stuttering rant as he went on about each individual’s Quirk.

The rumors were true regarding his ramblings, you mused to yourself, wondering how long he could go on for before a small hand on his shoulder made him take pause.

“Midoriya,” Jirou intoned. “Calm down.” His cheeks flushed a bright red. He began laughing nervously while absentmindedly rubbing the back of his neck.

“S-sorry,” he said, shyfully.

“It’s okay,” you reassured him. “I agree with your stance, though. Observing others' skills is an effective way to improve your own. Get an idea or two.” You turned your attention back to the ongoing training, taking mental notes of your classmates’ fighting stances and their defensive moves, trying to get a better understanding of the why behind them. You pulled a small item from your jacket pocket, absentmindedly rubbing it between your thumb and forefinger. The movement caught Midoriya’s attention.

“What is that?” he asked, green eyes alight with curiosity.

“What? This?” You held up your good luck charm; a small, pink parrot keychain from a popular cartoon series you had won years ago at one of your hometown’s summer festivals. It was lucky because at the moment, while little you were trying to win, your Quirk had manifested. “It’s my good luck charm,” you explained the pink parrot’s value to you.

“Oh, cool!” Midoriya exclaimed. “You know, I used to have a good luck charm—it was my super rare exclusive All Might trading card! First edition!” His eyes shined as he reminisced. “I would bring it with me everywhere! Even Kacchan—”

“Deku,” drawled a low voice from the other side of your gathered class. The temperature fell as Bakugou’s vermillion eyes narrowed onto Midoriya. “Don’t say another word.”

“He’s such a fanboy.” Jirou chuckled, fondness seeping into her voice. Midoriya smiled sheepishly, not bothering even to try to deny the label. You spent the time until your group’s turn getting to know the two, quickly finding out that you and Jirou share the same taste in music; vowing to swap playlists after class. You were so caught up in your conversation that you almost forgot about Todoroki's presence, if not for the awareness of a body next to you. His chilled warmth seeped into your muscles, causing you to relax one moment, and tense up another.

“Are you all right?” he softly inquired, spying your tensed posture.

“Yeah, I’m good.” You replied, softly smiling but it didn’t reach your eyes. “Just a lil’ nervous, is all.”

Todoroki frowned slightly, not understanding how you could be experiencing anxiousness. “Wh—?”

“Oh yeah!” Midoriya suddenly interjected. “This is going to be your first time demonstrating your Quirk, huh?” he asked you. “Or at least this is gonna be the first time I will see it. What is it again? Object—no—um, yeah, anyway I bet it is awesome!” His eyes still shined with his enthusiasm and curiosity. “Sometime you gotta let me ask you about it! I have so many! Does it work like Ochako’s Zero Gravity? Or Yaoyorozu’s Creation?”

You couldn’t help but give a small laugh at his eagerness. You had never met someone as enthusiastic about Quirks as Izuku Midoriya. It was kind of refreshing to interact with someone as passionate as he was.

“Kind of,” you began, silently pondering over what you know of the brunette’s Quirk and comparing it to your own. “Ochako and I have the same limitations when it comes to the weight of an object, but besides that, our Quirks are different.” Your Quirk was object manipulation; you could telepathically manipulate objects within a certain range. To you, your Quirk wasn’t all that—wasn’t anything unique by any means—but to others, you were seen as a powerful goddess. “To be honest, I’m lacking in hand-to-hand combat skills.” You sheepishly smiled.

“Really?” Midoriya asked, blinking in shock. “I thought your previous school would have prepared you for all types of situations.” Jirou nodded her agreement with the green-haired male. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Shouto continue to observe you with a calculating expression on his face.

“Unfortunately, no.” You shrugged. “Their curriculum was more focused on improving the individual’s Quirk than learning how to fight without it.”

“Oh, wow,” Jirou said. “That could put you at a great disadvantage down the line.”

You nodded. “Yeah, I know. That’s why—” You were cut off by Mr. Aizawa calling for your group to begin your training round. “Welp, this is it, I guess.” You chuckled nervously.

Midoriya gave you a reassuring smile. “You’ll do great!” he said, giving you a thumbs-up accompanied by a warm smile.

“Do your best,” Jirou added before moving towards the training pitch.

You started to follow, but a cool hand on your shoulder made you pause, shivering softly. You turned to find Todoroki giving you an expectant look. “You’ll do fine,” he said, confidently. He looked as if he put his entire faith in you. “I’ll be by your side the entire time.”

You felt a surge of confidence fill you at his words. You gave him a determined look. “Right,” you said. “We got this.”

You swear up and down his eyes twinkled when he looked at you, but it could have been a trick of the light. “You got this.” He replied, softly. The two of you walked into the pitch together, side by side.

The training went . . . not terrible, but it could have been better on your end.

Todoroki, Midoriya, and Jirou were amazing. Even without using their Quirks, they each were a force to be reckoned with. You were captivated by how swiftly they moved—as if they were ballerinas performing Danse des Petits Cygnes.

You weren’t on the same level as them and the rest of Class 3-A. You knew that, and you acknowledged it, but to see and be confronted by it so bluntly in person made you feel a whole other level of embarrassment and shame. You weren’t weak by any means, you could hold your own in a fight for some time, but not like your classmates could—and had.

Perhaps that is what separates you from your classmates. They have battle experience. Hell, they fought in a fucking war for crying out loud while you were on the other side of the country, guarding civilian shelters. You were fortunate not to see much bloodshed, but maybe that brought you to a disadvantage against these future Heroes surrounding you.

The horn had sounded as Jirou pinned you in the dirt for the sixth time, signaling the end of the round. You heard the sounds of Midoriya and Todoroki’s scuffling come to a halt from somewhere off to your left as Jirou lifted herself off of you. She offered you a hand as you began to rise from the ground. You accepted her extended hand with a grimace as the muscles in your back burned.

“Nice work.” Mr. Aizawa said as the four of you approached. “You performed adequately,” he addressed Jirou, Todoroki, and Midoriya. He turned to you. “You, not so much.”

You flinched as the words landed home. Damn, you thought, but he’s not wrong. You had naively allowed yourself to believe that Eraserhead wouldn’t call out your inferiority, at least in front of others. Then again, he was Eraserhead—infamous for his bluntness and apathy.

“Your skills are greatly lacking in hand-to-hand combat,” he continued. “I haven’t seen somebody so physically inadequate since your classmates were first years. Coming from another Hero Course, especially one with its reputation, it’s to be expected that you’re not up to par with your new classmates, but I didn’t think it would be this bad.” As he spoke, he never broke eye contact with you, scrutinizing you. Even with one eye, his unrelenting gaze made you feel as if he could see every minuscule detail about you. “Based on the performance I saw today, it was a mistake to put you in this class.”

You heard a gasp from one of your classmates; its owner unknown. You gulped down your shame and remained silent. You had a feeling Aizawa wasn’t finished with you.

“From here on out, I expect you to train harder and push yourself further than anyone else. Extra training, extra classes—anything that will make you catch up.” His eye narrowed. “If I do not see substantial improvement in one month, you will be expelled. No exceptions.”

Your eyes widened, but your shock did not stop you from replying. “Yes, sir.” You said, keeping your tone neutral as you mulled over his words. Although extreme, I understand the reason for Mr. Aizawa’s methods, you thought. He’s right though. I’m far from even scrapping the level these guys are on. I need to be more disciplined and work even harder if I want to stand on equal ground with my classmates. Resolve made, you promised, “I will go Plus Ultra!”

“Yaass, Y/N!” Mina cheered. “Woohoo!”

Aizawa didn’t say anything else to you, promptly dismissing the class. Midoriya praised your performance and commented on his wish to sit down and talk in-depth with you regarding your Quirk. You promptly accepted his request, telling him you would let him know when you were free. He smiled before walking off to join Iida and Ochako.

“If it means anything,” a voice suddenly intoned from behind you. You spun around, having not sensed the person's approach. You weren’t all that surprised to find Todoroki there, softly regarding you. “I think you did well.”

You scoffed but smiled softly. “Thank you, but you don’t have to patronize me. I have a lot of work to do if I want to catch up.”

“You will,” he declared, before quickly clarifying, “Catch up. Especially with my help.”

You furrowed your brows. “Excuse me?”

“Should I repeat myself?” he inquired, his heterochromatic eyes swimming in mirth. “I will assist you in your training and classes.”

You didn’t respond right away, regarding him with suspicion. You waited for him to name a condition for his help, but when he offered none, you relaxed. “Thank you, Todoroki.” You inclined your head. “I greatly appreciate it.”

“Shouto,” he corrected.

You blinked at him, taken aback. “What?”

“Shouto,” he reiterated. “You may call me Shouto. We are friends, are we not?”

You gaped at him for a moment, processing his words. “Ye-yeah!” you said a little too loudly. “We are friends, Shouto.”

The small smile that graced his lips lit up your entire world and caused your heart to speed up, pounding almost painfully against your ribcage. “Meet me here tomorrow after class.” He instructed.

“Tomorrow.” You repeated in confirmation.

His smile grew a little wider. “See you then, Y/N.” He said before turning on his heel and strolling away. You watched him go in a daze, in disbelief of what just occurred.

“Oooooooo, Y/N’s gotta date!”

You shrieked at the sudden voice and spun around for a second time to find Mina standing there, hunched over laughing at your reaction.

“Mina!” you shrieked, placing a hand over your heart. “You scared the shit outta me!”

She continued to laugh. “Sorry,” she said once her laughter died down. “You were so entranced with Todoroki that you didn’t even realize I was here!”

“Oh, yeah right.” You responded, playfully rolling your eyes. The two of you began to walk to the dorm. “I wasn’t entranced with him.”

The pinkette gave you a look of disbelief, an eyebrow raised. “Yeah, sure,” she retorted. “You can lie to yourself all you want, but you ain’t lying to me.”

You scoffed but didn’t attempt to refute her claims. You put your hands in your pockets and looked to the ground, lost in thought. Mina didn’t say anything else, allowing you both to walk in silence.

The next afternoon, you met Shouto at the training grounds outside Gym Gamma for your first tutored training session. He regarded you kindly as you slowly approached, suddenly feeling quite bashful.

“Thank you for offering to do this, Shouto.” You said when you arrived. “It really means a lot. I don’t know how I’m going to repay you.”

“There’s no need for repayment.” He softly responded. “I volunteered to assist you. Therefore, no repayment of any sort is necessary.”

“Are you sure?” you asked. “I don’t want to inconvenience you—”

His soft call of your name made your next words die in your throat. “I assure you, this is fine.” He said. “Your company and attention are substantial enough.” You felt your face warm at his admission. Shouto gestured towards the training pit. “Shall we begin?”

He started by teaching you some stretches that are supposed to help decrease sudden muscle spasms and strengthen them. Afterward, he had you show him the little knowledge you had of hand-to-hand combat to gain an idea of where you stand in regard to U.A. training. Once you had demonstrated the few kicks and different styles of punching you knew, you turned to judge Shouto’s impression.

Your breath caught at what you saw.

His handsome features remained stoically blank for the most part, but the pursing of his lips and slight furrowing of his brows spoke a different tale. He grumbled something under his breath that sounded a lot like they didn’t prepare you at all, but you weren’t one hundred percent sure.

“Shouto?” you inquired, voice slightly uneven as your mouth formed the syllables of his name. “Is everything alright?”

His beautiful eyes snapped to yours, and once again you were frozen by the intensity with which he looked at you. His gaze was calculating, and you could just about see the cogs turning in his brain as he silently regarded you. A couple long moments later, his lips parted on an exhale and he finally addressed you.

“We have a lot of work to do.” He declared. “But we already knew that.” You slowly nodded your head, curious as to where he would be going with this conversation. “Thankfully, you’re not completely helpless,” he intoned dryly. “Even though you don’t have many skills regarding physical, non-Quirk combat, I have identified several places where we can start, correct, and then build on.”

You steadied yourself, resolve firmer than ever before. You declared, “I’m ready.”

Shouto gave a quick, but detailed, overview of his plans for your ‘training tutoring’, you referred to your sessions as. He was going to teach you everything he thought you should know—which was everything he knew—in order to successfully become a Hero people could rely on.

The two of you began by improving your physique. You joined him on his early morning run along with Midoriya and Bakugou, who welcomed you with contrasting fervor. When you met for your afternoon training, you would run five kilometers before learning various grades of combat moves, and then concluding your time together by sparring.

It was established early on that neither of you would use your Quirks during your tutoring as the two of you were well-adapted to your respective Quirks—and the strict rules regarding their usage.

For the next several weeks, you worked tirelessly on your training, and your dedication and hard work paid off. At your end-of-the-month assessment, Aizawa was pleased by your rapid and exceptional improvement and announced you could stay at U.A. He also informed you that it was never his intention to expel you in the first place, but nevertheless, he was impressed by your efforts.

You and Shouto continued to grow closer as time went by. You still had your training tutoring sessions in the afternoons, and you became a regular on his early morning runs. You even hung out outside of class and training; preparing pre-workout meals and drinks together, and various study sessions at all hours of the day and night. Once, you even packed him a small canister of his favorite brand of soba noodles for lunch one of the weekends he was interning at his father’s Agency. When he came back to the dorm after his shift, he made a beeline for you and promptly informed you that from then on out, you would be solely responsible for packing his lunches.

“Now why would I do that?” you implored. You crossed your arms, awaiting his response. “Are you gonna pay me?”

Shouto slowly blinked at you in the way a cat would. “Why would I compensate you for an action you chose to do?”

You had no retort for that.

As you spent more time together, you noticed some changes. Shouto would stare at you for seemingly no reason, and whenever you called him out on it, he feigned innocence. He also sought you out more often, insisting on walking to your next class or to and from the dorm by your side. He even began to occupy you on your shopping runs, dutifully holding your bags for you. And whenever you would thank or compliment him, his whole demeanor would light up as if Aphrodite herself had shown favor towards him.

You weren’t any better, though.

If Shouto would do so much as even blink in your general direction, your heart would soar and butterflies would take flight in your stomach. At first, you brushed it off as nerves for being the subject of the Shouto Todoroki’s attention, but you were in denial, not wanting to admit what was actually occurring. Looking back, you realized that deep down, you had known all along what was happening, but at the time, you weren’t ready to admit it—to yourself and him.

Regardless of your rebuttals and lack of admission, you were falling for your dual-haired classmate, hard and fast, and there wasn’t anything you could do about it.

3 months later . . .

“Y/N! It’s starting! You’re gonna miss it!” Ochako shouted from the couches, the other girls of Class 3-A surrounding her, all dressed in comfortable loungewear. It was the class's annual Girl’s Movie Night, which was held every couple of months. Tooru told you earlier that week that they would like to have it more often, like once a month, but given their hectic and ever-changing schedules, the girls had to settle for every few months. They took turns who got to pick out the movie. It was Mina’s turn this time. True to her nature, she selected an early 2000s chick flick set in the States.

“Hold on, wait for me!” you hollered back as you finished pouring the freshly popped popcorn into a large bowl, a few kernels spilling out as you whirled on your heels to sprint into the living area. You nearly tripped over Jirou’s legs as you practically threw yourself towards the last remaining free spot on the couch.

“Ah, sorry!” you exclaimed as you settled yourself into the cushions, checking over Jirou and your popcorn bowl. “Did I miss anything?”

“No, it’s just starting,” Momo said, taking a sip from her cup of tea as the opening credits began to roll.

“Ooh, this is one of my all-time favorite movies!” Mina squealed next to you. “Have you ever seen it before?” she asked.

You hummed, acknowledging her question. You thought hard, trying to recall if you’ve ever seen the characters on the screen before. “I’m not sure,” you said. “I don’t think so.”

The pinkette gasped aloud and theatrically placed a hand on her chest, sprawling backward. “Y/N! You wound me!”

Across the room, Tooru piped up from her spot next to Asui. “How could you not have?! It’s only one of the greatest movies ever made!”

“Oh, I’m not so sure about that,” Ochako interjected. “Gonna have to disagree.” You expected them to start arguing back and forth over what is truly the greatest movie ever made, like your friends back home would have done, but they don’t. Mina stuck her tongue out at Ochako before turning back to the movie.

You all watched the movie in relative silence, save for the light background noise of popcorn moving around in a bowl and slurping from a now-empty straw. It was nice, peaceful; a well-deserved and appreciated respite from the grinding hustle of being Pro-Heroes-in-training.

“Just confess already!” Jirou shouted at the screen as the main character allowed another opportunity for them to confess their feelings for their classmate slip through their fingers. “Gosh!” A corner of your mouth curled at her irritation. A few grumbles of agreement sounded from the others as the movie continued playing.

You had to stifle your laughter as the main characters continued to pine after one another, completely oblivious to the other’s growing feelings. I can’t believe there are actually people in the world who are like them, you silently mused. It’s so obvious they like each other. I can’t believe they don’t see it.

“Ugh, the anticipation and pining is killing me!” Tooru cried out, her slippers moving frantically in the air as she kicked her legs.

Asui raised a brow. “I thought you’ve seen this movie before?”

“Well, yeah, I have,” the invisible female said. “But the suspense still gets to me!”

“It is quite intense.” Ochako agreed. “I hope they confess soon. It hurts to see them think the other doesn’t return their feelings.”

“I don’t understand how they cannot.” You admitted, shrugging your shoulders. The girls turned to look at you as you continued, “I mean, they’re so obvious.”

“Yeah, it’s kinda annoying at this point,” Jirou mumbled.

Mina snickered. “Y/N, as if you’re one to talk.”

You gave her a questioning look, eyebrows furrowing. “What do you mean by that?”

“Oh, come on. You’re so obvious, too, with your crush—”

You cut her off, “I do not have a crush.”

“You have a crush?” Asui asked. You and Mina responded at the same time.

“No, I don’t.”

“Yes, she does.”

“What is this about?” Momo inquired, reaching for the remote and pausing the movie.

“Nothi—” you began but was swiftly interrupted by the pinkette next to you.

“Y/N has a crush on Todoroki!”

The girls gasped and gapped at you, eyes wide.

“I do not!” You said, face burning as you tried to mitigate the situation. “We’re not like that!”

“Oh my.” You thought you heard Momo say under her breath, but you couldn’t really hear since Tooru started shrieking with glee.

“You guys would be the cutest couple!” she exclaimed, jumping up from her spot on the couch and racing over to pull you into a tight embrace.

“I mean, it does make sense given they spend so much time together.” Ochako mused, a finger on her chin as she considered the situation.

Asui jumped on the bandwagon with, “Oh they are definitely into each other.”

“One hundred percent,” Mina agreed.

“Girl, you gotta spill the tea!” Tooru exclaimed as she pulled away. “Tell us everything!” The others voiced their agreement.

“I do admit, I am curious as to how this relationship came to be,” Momo vocalized, setting her tea cup down onto its saucer. “That is if the two of you have gotten that far into your companionship.”

You blinked at the midnight-black-haired woman, shock clouding your brain for a moment as you processed her words. “Um, n-no. We aren’t in any type of r-romantic relationship.” You clarified, but immediately you could tell certain people thought your answer was complete horse poop. “We aren’t!”

“Regardless, you guys are pretty close,” Ochako interjected. “I’ve seen the way you look at him.”

Jirou nodded in agreement. “And all the extra training you do together.”

“The early morning runs,” Asui added.

“Okay, okay,” you threw your hands up in a placating manner. “I understand what you guys are trying to get at, but you’re wrong.”

Mina came to stand beside you, giving you a knowing look. “Girl, Y/N,” she began. “You can try with all your might to deny it, but it’s obvious what is really going on between you and Shouto.” She placed a delicate hand on your shoulder. “And I know you know it, too.”

You stared at the pinkette, pondering her and the other’s words. You wanted to continue denying what they were saying, but you were getting tired of denying your feelings to yourself. You slumped your shoulders, the tension leaving your body as you resolved to come clean with the truth—to yourself and your friends, besides a certain dual-haired male. “Alright, fine.” You let out a heavy sigh, mentally preparing yourself for their reaction to your next statement. “I like him a little.” You confessed, looking at the floor, too afraid to meet any of their gazes.

The room was dead silent for two breaths before Mina erupted in choking laughter. “’A little’? Yeah RIGHT!” She laughed so hard that tears began to stream down her pink cheeks. After she managed to calm down a bit, she turned to face you fully, laying a hand on your knee. “Girl, you’re lying to yourself.” She told you, tone light yet serious. “We have all seen the way you look at Shouto—” the others nod in confirmation. “—and your eyes tell it all.”

You flinched as embarrassment flooded you. “Is it really that obvious?” you asked. You turned to the others to gauge their reactions. “Am I?” They all nodded.

“Definitely.”

“For sure.”

“We could see it from a mile away.”

You gasped. “Oh my,” you covered your face with your hands. “Do you think Shouto knows?”

“I doubt so,” Momo said. “Shouto is quite intelligent and a formidable force to be reckoned with, but as I’m sure you’re aware, his experience and understanding of social concepts and cues are fairly limited.”

“In other words,” Jirou interjected. “He’s none the wiser.”

You released a sigh of relief. At least he doesn’t think I’m a psycho stalker or something.

“Hey, give him some credit, guys,” Ochako remarked. “Todoroki’s more aware than he’s given credit for.”

“Moving on,” Mina said. “Have you thought about confessing your feelings to him?”

You crossed your arms over your chest, shamefully looking away. “No. . .”

“What?!”

“Really?!” Tooru shouted. “But he’s so hot!” The sleeves of her shirt crossed in front of her. “I would do anything to be his girlfriend.”

You laughed. “While you are correct about his handsomeness, I don’t even know where I would begin or how I would confess.”

“Your feelings are valid, Y/N,” Asui assured you. “Confessing one’s feelings for another is a life-changing occurrence.”

“You gotta do it before graduation in a couple months, though,” Ochako added. “If not, then you may never get another chance to do so.”

“Why do you say that?” you asked. “As Pros, wouldn’t we work together often? Why does it need to be before we graduate and turn Pro?”

“Possibly, but with our chosen line of work, there is always a possibility. . .” she trailed off with a grimace.

You understood immediately. “Oh.”

“Although rare in the line of duty, it does happen.” Momo said. “I wouldn’t worry about that though, but I agree with Ochako.”

“Plus,” Mina began, mischief glowing in her eyes. “If the two of you get together before you make your Pro Hero debut to the world, you wouldn’t have to worry about him falling in love with some random civilian he rescues on the street or another Pro.”

You nodded. “You have a point.”

“Either way, I think it will all work out in the end,” Ochako said, her cheeks widening with her smile. “I think perhaps Shouto returns your feelings, and just simply doesn’t know what to do about them or how to address them, therefore you should tell him.” The other girls voiced their agreement.

“Yeah, it doesn’t have to be some big romantic gesture or anything,” Jirou said.

“Just be honest with him, Y/N,” Asui said.

“Yeah, girl,” Mina added, giving you a warm smile when you met her gaze. “You got this. Besides, he can’t reject you. You’re too hot for that.”

You squared your shoulders as a burst of confidence filled you thanks to the encouragement you received from your friends. “Okay, I will!” you loudly announced. “I will confess my feelings to him!”

The others cheered as you all held up your lemon water in a faux toast. In your happiness, none of you noticed the shadows shift in the stairwell and the soft noise of retreating footsteps on the wood.

You were screwed.

“How am I gonna tell him!?” you mewled aloud a couple of days later in the cafeteria. You dramatically slumped your forehead on the tabletop, mentally kicking yourself for allowing the girls to convince you that confessing your crush would be an easy endeavor. You felt a reassuring pat on your shoulder. Groaning, you lifted your head from the table to shoot puppy eyes at Ochako. “Ochako, help me!” you cried. “How do I confess?”

The brunette gave you a sheepish smile. “I don’t know, Y/N.” She professed, her eyes apologetic. “Proclaiming one's love for another isn’t really my strong suit.”

“Ain’t that the truth,” Asui mumbled under her breath before taking a sip of her drink, receiving a glare in response.

“Y/N, sweetie,” Mina cooed from your other side. “I think you’re overthinking it a little. It shouldn’t be but so hard. Just be honest with him!”

“But that is hard!” you said, waving your hands in the air. “I can’t just walk up to him and say, ‘hey, Shouto, I think you’re really hot and amazing. Wanna go out with me?’”

“Sure you can,” Momo intoned, trying to reassure you. “Maybe not in those exact words, but when the time comes, you will know what to say.”

“I hope so,” you sighed, slumping your shoulders. “I hope so.”

As time passed, you found that you did not, in fact, know what to say when the time came to confess your feelings to Shouto Todoroki. Whenever you were near him, you became tongue-tied and could barely speak without becoming a stuttering mess. During each interaction, Shouto would give you a long, confused look, his eyebrows drawn downwards as he watched you struggle for words. He wouldn’t comment on it, bless him, but he must’ve thought you to be a total weirdo.

Yet, he still accompanied you on the walk back to the dorm every day after classes ended, and he insisted on continuing your training sessions every weekend after he finished his shift at Endeavor’s Agency. The two of you grew closer, to your absolute delight, and yet you still hadn’t managed to work up the courage to confess your feelings to him.

Until one day . . .

You were sitting in homeroom during free period, chatting with Midoriya about the latest episode of the rebooted All Might: The Mightiest Man TV series.

“I’m telling you, Midoriya,” you said. “It doesn’t matter how much the animation and special effects have improved, the original will always be better than the reboot.” You crossed your arms and lounged back in your chair, waiting for the forest green-haired male to start sputtering his counterargument. “You can’t change my mind. I will die on this hill.”

“Are you seriously sayin—?”

A call of your name from a familiar tenor drew your attention. You turned towards the source to meet a pair of heterochromatic eyes. Shouto was making his way to your desk, coming to a stop right in front of you. You had to tilt your head back in order to maintain eye contact. After a moment, he turned his attention to Midoriya next to you. “Pardon me, Midoriya, but I need to speak to Y/N in private.”

You and Midoriya gaped at the dual-haired male for a good twenty seconds before you slowly rose from your seat. “O-okay.” You turned to face your green-haired companion. You hoped your eyes were conveying your inner panic as you said, “Midoriya, I’ll be back.”

All he could do was nod as he watched you follow behind Shouto, wondering why you looked so panicked to go with the male. Maybe you were constipated.

As Shouto led you toward the classroom door, Ochako and Mina shot you curious glances. When you met their gazes, they gave you a reassuring smile and a thumbs up, respectfully.

“Good luck, girl!” Mina whisper-shouted.

“You got this, Y/N,” Ochako said. You tried to match her comforting smile with your own, but it didn’t reach your eyes.

You followed behind the dual-haired male, silently wondering what was going on. Once you were outside the classroom, he led you down the hallway to a little corner nook bathed in the golden light of the afternoon.

“Shouto, is everything okay?” you asked, anxiously shifting from one foot to the other. “Is something wrong?” At your inquiry, he finally came to a stop in front of a set of windows and turned to face you.

“Yes, everything is fine.” He reassured you. “I have something I’d like to discuss with you.”

You blinked. “Okay,” you said. “Shoot.”

Shouto likewise paused at your usage of unfamiliar slang but didn’t comment on it. “Um,” he started, but drifted off, not finishing the thought. He opened his mouth only to shut it again after a moment or two without making a sound. You furrowed your brows as you continued to watch him struggle for words.

“Um, Sho?” you prodded. He didn’t respond, however, still thinking over his next words. Shouto never hesitates, you thought with a mixture of wonderment and anxiety. Is something bothering him? you thought with growing concern. You felt your heart come to a skittering stop as another horrifying conclusion came to mind; am I the problem?

“I overheard you and the other girls’ conversation on Movie Night,” he confessed at last, interrupting your spiraling train of thought. He bashfully looked away as if he was ashamed.

“Oh, okay?” you responded, absentmindedly going through the events of the night in question. Your heartbeat began to calm down to a normal rate. “What conversation?” You couldn’t think of anything in particular and were about to ask him to elaborate before the realization hit you like a freight train.

“I like him a little.”

“Okay, I will! I will confess my feelings to him!”

“Yeah, girl, you got this. Besides, he can’t reject you. You’re too hot for that.”

Oooohhhhh.

Fuck.

Maybe he didn’t hear that particular part of the conversation! You tried to reassure yourself as you waited for Shouto to answer your question. Your heart rate picked back up as panic began to settle in. We were there for several hours. There is so much he could’ve—

“You have an admiration going on.” You hate to admit you gawked at him for a couple of seconds before his formal wording translated into modern speech. You have a crush.

FUCK!

“Oh my God, I am so sorry!” you rushed out, trying to save face and whatever friendship you had with Shouto. You felt your cheeks burn. “Please, just forget you ever heard that!”

Shouto snapped his head to you as your words registered in his brain. “Why would I do that?” he asked after a moment. “We live in the same building with shared living space, barely anything is not overheard by another.”

Oh God, how much did he overhear?

“Besides,” he continued. “At our age, it is completely natural for one to harbor feelings for another.”

You blinked at him as his words registered, your cheeks now tingling due to the burn. Gosh, he sounds like a grandpa giving the birds and the bees talk.

“It—it’s j-just,” you stammered. “I-I-I—” You let out a harsh breath in frustration when your words continued to fail you. Shouto raised a brow before his eyes narrowed. Your heart sank when you saw that.

Oh great, he’s annoyed!

“Are you all right?” he asked before moving so he was right in front of you. You squeaked at the sudden warmth of his body heat as he placed a hand on your forehead. “Do you feel ill? You feel warm, and your face looks to be flushed with some perspiration gathering on your forehead.” His eyes frantically looked you up and down as he examined you for any further signs of sickness. “I should get you to Recovery Girl.”

“N-no!” you exclaimed when he went to sweep you off your feet. “Sh-Shouto, I—I’m fine, really. I’m n-not s-sick.”

“Oh?” Shouto blinked in confusion and, adorably, subtly tilted his head to the side. “Then why are you so febrile? And you are stuttering?”

“It’s not because I am sick. I’m just em-embarrassed.” You whispered the last part, and you couldn’t help but look away from Shouto in shame.

“Embarrassed? Why are you embarrassed, Y/N?” You shut your mouth, refusing to speak. Shouto sensed your hesitation. The light slowly left his heterochromatic eyes and he bashfully looked away from you. “Is . . . is it because you don’t want to be seen with me?” he asked. “For fear that your crush will see us together and not return your affection?”

You let out a gasp in surprise. “What? No!” You are quick to reassure him—your actual crush—of your intentions. “That’s not it at all!”

Shouto met your gaze again. His eyes lit up with what looked like . . . anticipation? Hope? You weren’t sure, but your heart began to race in trepidation. “Then what is it?”

“I like you,” you blurted out. You shut your eyes and covered your face with your hands, trying to hide from your drowning embarrassment. “Like, not even a little bit, but, like, really, really like you.” You whispered from behind your hands.

There was no immediate response from the dual-haired male. You didn’t dare to remove your hands from your face to check if he was still standing in front of you.

He probably didn’t hear me. You internally slapped yourself upside the head.

Before you could react, Shouto was carefully removing your hands from your face. His touch was gentle, like he was afraid you would crack and break under his fingertips. “Why are you hiding from me?” he whispered. Your breath caught in your throat as you stared wide-eyed at him.

“I—I.” Despite your efforts, words weren’t able to come out of your mouth.

“You should never feel like you need to hide,” he continued. He let out an airy tsk before he reached his hand up and gently tucked a piece of stray hair behind your ear. You felt your face heat up even more at the action. “Especially from me.”

What.

“W-what?” you voiced aloud. You blinked a couple times, trying to bring your brain back from the brink of short-circuiting.

Shouto chuckled lowly, moving impossibly closer into your space. “I think you need to get your hearing checked out, love.”

You blinked some more. “What?”

“Have I broken you?” he asked, the corner of his perfect lips turning up at the thought. “First you forget your words, and now you have lost your hearing. . .” he trailed off as he continued to stare intently into your eyes.

What is he playing at. . .? you wondered as you blankly stared at him.

The two of you stood there and took each other in for quite a while. In reality, it mustn’t have been for very long—at most a minute and a half—but to you, it felt like hours. You were so close you could see the light reflecting in his heterochromatic eyes and the small streaks of gray in the turquoise-colored one.

“I . . . like you, too,” Shouto suddenly confessed, violently snapping you out of the daze his proximity causes. “I have harbored feelings for you for some time now.”

WHAT!?

“You . . . do?” you asked, skeptical. You were hesitant to believe his words in fear that this whole thing was some sick prank. But—

No. Shouto isn’t that type of person, you thought. He barely understands humor as it is, so he must be telling the truth.

“I do,” he confirmed.

“Oh, um.” You fumbled again for words, embarrassment flooding your entire system once more. You licked your dry lips, missing the way Shouto’s eyes locked onto the movement. “Cool.”

Shouto blinked at you, one of his perfect eyebrows raising. “Cool?” he repeated with a sly smile overcoming his lips.

“Mhm.” You dumbly nodded. “Cool.” You paused before muttering a small, “Ditto.”

He chuckled again, subtly moving the tiniest bit closer to you. He was just about crowding you into the corner at this point. “Ditto, huh?” He mumbled under his breath with a widening smirk playing at his lips. “I think I have broken you, dear.”

You grinned. “Perhaps.” Shouto chuckled again before falling silent. The two of you stared at the other, lost in each other’s gazes.

“Can I kiss you?” He spoke on an exhale, his deep voice somehow even deeper. Before you could internally flip the fuck out and fully comprehend what was happening, you were already nodding. That was all the confirmation Shouto needed before he brought your lips in for a sensual kiss. Fireworks exploded behind your eyelids as you relaxed into him.

You smiled into the kiss. Thank you, chopsticks.

The next day, you and Shouto walked into the classroom holding hands. Everyone collectively stopped what they were doing to openly gape at the two of you as Shouto, always the gentleman, escorted you to your seat. The shocked silence lasted all but three seconds before Mina and Tooru let out ear-piercing shrieks and practically tackled you.

“Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh!” Mina was shouting meanwhile Tooru was holding onto you so tight to the point that she was nearly crushing you into her invisible body.

“AHHHH, I knew this was gonna happen!” she exclaimed before somehow pulling you in closer.

“Can’t . . . breathe.” You wheezed out before your boyfriend pulled you away from the two fangirls and protectively held you to his chest.

“I would be grateful if you didn’t crush my girlfriend to death, Tooru.” He intoned in his naturally dry tenor. His statement only made them freak out even more.

“Ah! Look at the two love birds!” Ochako swooned.

“Fuckin’ disgustin’,” grumbled a deep voice from somewhere in the back of the room.

Before you could turn to shoot Bakugou a death glare, Shouto was already clapping back. “What, are you jealous, Bakugou?”

The desks which had surrounded the blond a moment prior were blown to shiverines.

“I’LL END YOU!”

Fin.

→ extras: snapshot 1, snapshot 2, fic tag

No plagiarizing, re-uploading, translating, or copying of any kind or on any platform of my writing or inserted into any type of AI generator. Do not recommend my work on TikTok. Do not repost on YouTube.

#shouto todoroki x reader #shoto todoroki x reader #todoroki x reader #todoroki shouto x reader #todoroki shoto x reader #bnha x reader #shouto x reader #shoto x reader #fic: ditto #todoroki x you #shoto x you #shouto x you

[vanteguccir]

You're mine | Matt Sturniolo

Matt Sturniolo x reader

Summary: Where Y/N is a ray of sunshine, and Matt is her dose of grumpness.

Warning: None.

Requested?: Yes, by @httpsm4tti

Author's note: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

"Get out."

Y/N smiled as she heard Matt's short and authoritative voice echo through the walls of their shared room.

"Hi baby, are you okay?"

Matt lifted his head instantly, pulling his attention away from the computer screen in front of him and toward the door, where his girlfriend was standing.

A tray was resting securely in her open palms as a teasing gaze looked back at him.

A sigh escaped his lips, and Y/N knew it wasn't because he was stressed about seeing her but rather completely relieved. His tense posture gradually eased, and his frown dissolved, giving way to a calming stance.

"What are you doing here, petal?" Matt's tone came out soft, his hands leaving the keyboard and resting on his gray sweatpants covered thighs.

"You've been locked in here for hours. I haven't seen you get out to eat or drink anything until now..." Y/N began, starting her quick steps towards the brunette. "And since I know you're on a task to answer every email sent to the channel, I decided to bring you some snacks and drinks." A big smile spread across her face, her hands working on resting the tray on the empty space of his desk.

Matt glanced briefly at the contents on the wooden surface, fighting back a smile as he noticed all of his favorite snacks, plus a handmade sandwich and a can of rootbeer.

"You didn't need to do all this, sweetheart." The boy brought his blue orbs back to his girlfriend, his right hand coming up and resting on her hip lightly, gently stroking the covered skin.

"Anything for you, my love."

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

The sound of the door to his shared room with Y/N opening ​​echoed through Matt's ears. The boy was in the kitchen preparing breakfast for himself and his girlfriend, the sun's rays streaming through the living room's large windows serving as his only source of lighting.

Y/N's muffled and quick footsteps sounded through the small hallway that led to where he was.

The boy didn't need to turn around to know that she was now standing behind him, probably just the large wooden table separating them.

"Good morning, baby!" Y/N's voice was like music to his ears, and Matt found himself wondering how she could be so happy at this time of the day, a small "morning" escaping his lips in response. "You won't believe the dream I had."

A smile almost imperceptibly appeared on the right corner of Matt's lips, the kind of smile that only Y/N was capable of eliciting from him.

The boy turned around with Y/N's favorite mug in one hand and a small plate with flowers drawn on it in the other, both containing coffee with a dash of milk and waffles with honey, just the way his girl liked.

The brunette placed them both on the surface in front of the seat that Y/N had already designated as hers, picking up his own plate and mug before sitting down in front of her.

"Nick and I were at this different theater, and we were going to watch a horror movie, which already started out weird because we know how much he hates horror movies..." Y/N started quickly, pausing momentarily to take a bite of her waffle, a hint of honey smearing the corner of her mouth. "But the weirdest thing was that the movie wasn't horror. It only had two main characters, and they rode horses the whole time. And then, out of nowhere, they adopted a mute dog and a blind cat, which were the cutest little things I've ever seen..."

The girl kept going, her voice changing intonation with each word while her expressions moved quickly, her free hand gesturing while her other hand held her waffle tightly, taking bites from time to time.

Matt remained silent, a serious - but relaxed - expression took over his face, while his mouth slowly chewed the pieces of his own toast, nodding his head every now and then, showing to her that he was paying attention, just like everyday.

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

To outsiders, the scene unfolding there seemed to be amusing.

Y/N, with a big smile on her face and yellow flowing dress surrounding her, was quickly pulling a serious-looking Matt with completely black clothes, which covered almost his entire body.

"Come on, baby! There's an ice cream cart right there." The girl repeated the information that had already been given previously, pointing enthusiastically with the index finger of her free hand at the small pastel-colored cart on the other side of the street.

"I can see that." Matt muttered, feigning annoyance, but everyone who knew them knew how much he was loving it.

"Can I get a strawberry one? Please! Oh, and which flavor will you want? I know you love the chocolate one, but it's so nice to change things up sometimes." Y/N rambled, finally approaching the cart, smiling big at the salesperson in greeting. "So?"

"You can order anything you want for me." Matt surrendered, catching the intense gleam in his girl's eyes with his response before averting his own, fishing his wallet out of his pocket, ready to just make the payment and seat on a random wooden bench, looking forward to hearing her ramble about her week.

"Good afternoon! Can I have a strawberry one and a cream one, please?"

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

"Baby, can you get me a Diet Coke? Please." Y/N briefly interrupted her conversation with Tara, looking at her boyfriend.

Matt was sitting next to Y/N on one of the couches at Tara's big 1 million party, his arms were crossed and his expression was serious - almost angry -, his eyes carried a steady gaze that circled around the people in the room, ignoring the screams and loud music, only his girl's voice echoing in his ears.

The brunette looked at her momentarily, nodding and leaning down slightly, sealing his lips on the side of her head gently before standing up, walking with firm steps towards the nearest bar.

It didn't take long, and soon the boy was returning to his previous spot, his hands balancing a can of Diet Coke and a can of Rootbeer.

His blue eyes almost instantly found the figure of his girlfriend, who was still talking to Tara, but now Nick was with them as well.

A small smile appeared on his lips as he watched her speak with so much passion, gesturing too much and changing her expressions too quickly.

But his own smile quickly fell when he saw a strange guy sitting in his previous seat, wrapping his arm over the back of the couch right behind Y/N's head and bringing his body closer to his girlfriend's, too close for his liking.

It was obvious that the guy knew Tara, as he immediately started talking to her, but his body language showed his interest in Y/N.

"Move. Now." Matt's serious and rude voice suddenly sounded as soon as he approached them, startling the small group. His eyes were fixed on the unknown boy, glaring at him.

His action brought small reactions from the others; Nick rolled his eyes, already used to his brother and his way of acting with everyone - except his girl. Tara raised her right eyebrow, her eyes traveling from the boy to Matt and back again.

But Y/N just smiled sincerely, ignoring the rudeness of his tone. Her eyes instantly lit up upon meeting her boyfriend and even more so upon seeing him holding her order.

"I won't repeat myself." Matt demanded, keeping his gaze steady on the guy, who quickly understood the message and got up from the couch, raising his hands in surrender before leaving.

Matt sat back down in the now empty space, handing his girl the Diet Coke before placing his arm right where the other boy's was, his fingertips caressing the exposed skin of her right shoulder.

He took advantage of Tara and Nick starting a new topic and brought his head closer to Y/N's, pressing his lips against her ear.

"You're mine, babe. Only mine."

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

"Are you ready, honey?" Y/N asked as she finished fastening her necklace around her neck, her eyes fixed on the mirror next to their closet in the room she shared with Matt.

"I just... I don't know which sneakers to wear." Matt's voice sounded tired, his brow furrowed as his eyes traveled over the extensive row of sneakers he owned.

The girl turned around, approaching him while throwing her hair over her shoulders, running her hands over the light pink dress that hugged her body just right.

The two were getting ready to go to the Snapchat event that would take place in a few hours, and as usual Matt always asked his girlfriend for some tips on one of the pieces he would wear for the day.

"Wear the white and blue Jordans. I like how they look on you." Y/N opined, pointing to the indicated pair, caressing his right bicep before turning around, crossing the already open bedroom door to check if Nick and Chris were ready.

The duo was lying on the sofa, both ready and using their respective phones, just waiting for the couple.

"Finally! If I knew how to drive, I would have left you two behind." Chris grumbled, adjusting his posture on the upholstery and putting his cell in his pants pocket.

"You still didn't learn to drive properly because you're lazy and too comfortable with me just driving your ass around." Matt's voice echoed behind Y/N, his figure leaving their room and closing the door behind him, his expression straight and his eyes carrying a serious gaze.

"Oh my God, you look handsome, baby! I knew Jordan would work out just fine." Y/N ignored the small fight between them, her eyes traveling over Matt's body, admiring his clothes despite them being simple and black - as always.

Matt rolled his eyes, feigning annoyance, but the traces of an almost non-existent smile appearing on the right corner of his lips while his cheeks took on a red hue said otherwise.

"Oh, how handsome you are, Matt." Nick joked, imitating Y/N's voice and fawning his right hand over his face, blinking his eyes repeatedly, earning a loud laugh from Chris and an amused smile from Y/N.

"Shut the fuck up. Get moving. Now!" Matt barked back, glaring at his brothers before finally approaching his girl.

He placed his left hand on the small of her back, gently guiding her to the stairs that led them to the garage, ready to go.

༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

My asks are always open. My requests are closed at the moment since I have many to work in, but you can always send questions or simply talk to me 🩷💋

And remember to treat people with kindness always!

~ taglist:

@lustfulslxt @ladybunny44 @worldlxvlys @earth2starkey @remussbitch @freshloveforthefit @il0vebeingdelulu @sturniolowhore @mimi-luvzyu @alorsxsturn @urfavgirllyyyyy @domizzzsstuff @sturnizd @hearts4chris @cupidzsq @dracoflaco @leah-loves-lilies @tylerthecreatorsrealwife @rootbeerworshiper @junnniiieee07 @elliesturniolo1 @sstvrnioloo @lightsgore @gidgett11037 @sturniolho @ksskianshd @ccolleenn @sturniolo-lover1317 @soimightlikeoldmen69 @hrtyjy @ldr-sl0t @breeloveschris @iammattswife

(If you want to be added to the taglist, please comment here)

#chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo x reader #x reader #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo #fanfic #fanfiction #fic #imagine #oneshot #matt sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo fanfiction #matt sturniolo fluff #matt sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo x reader #matthew bernard sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #matt x reader #matt au #matt fanfic #matt #grumpy matt sturniolo #sunshine reader #grumpy x sunshine #fluff

[jinkiezzsstuff]

Met The Devil

lucifer x human!reader

based on folklore about the devil, cause i thought that would be cool teehee

Part [2]

Warnings: SMUT 18+, implied fem reader (clit use), based on devil folklore so possibly ooc lucifer, so sorry but lucifer our boy ain’t that caught up on lilith here, penetrative sex, didn’t proof read so lmk if you see any mistakes, no mention of hairtype/bodytype/skin colour, swearing,

Word count: 4K

Your shoes clacked against the concrete, water from puddles splashing out from underneath your feet. The rain poured down vigorously, and unforgivingly. Your hair ruined, your clothes soaked and your mood sour. It’s been a trying day starting off with a failed job interview and ending with bending over backwards for people who didn’t deserve it.

It wasn’t even like you couldn’t handle a problem, or a hurdle, but it seemed like every path you took led to a dead end. You were tired, broke, and felt drained, you would kill for just a break from the failure.

Your pace slowed long ago, not really wanting to return into a room full of loud family members with critical opinions. You dragged your feet through puddles of water, feeling the cold rain soak through. The storm raged on clouds continuing to pelt down fat droplets, you inhaled the smell of wet grass, damp concrete and mud as you strolled.

The amber street lights above you were dim, and your eyes danced around the street lazily, observing everything and nothing. Just a few feet away from you was a bus stop, with a shelter and a bench, figuring it’d be better to not be drenched completely, you decided you’d have a seat maybe the rain will dissipate.

You dragged your feet focusing down at them as you walked into the shelter. As you turned into it, you bumped into someone jolting you backwards slightly. Reflexively your head shot up from your feet to see a man’s back, he quickly turned to you. You observed his clothing his head held a rather out there looking white hat, shoulders holding up a long white chesterfield coat along with white boots to match his monochromatic look.

Meeting his eyes you admired the unique colour; they looked light brown, but they were such a concentrated colour it could’ve been mistaken for an amber or perhaps orange. He was very pale, and poking out of his hat extremely blonde hair you briefly had the thought of perhaps he just lacked in melanin; he was albino, and so you moved past it. Standing fairly short even with his boots, he seemed like a wealthy man, and perhaps a model too, there’s no way he couldn’t be with such a catching appearance. The man gave you a wide grin, showing off his sparkling teeth, perfect as you expected. “Hi!” The strange man shouted, a rich booming voice coming out of him. You didn’t know what voice you expected to hear from him, but the slightly unsure, sultry one definitely wasn’t it.

Stepping back from him lending him some personal space back, you smiled nervously. “Hi, i’m sorry i thought- well i didn’t see anyone in here, sorry.” The man ‘pfft’ at you, eyes closed momentarily, head tilted back. “It’s not a problem at all! Eh, i was just stopping by!” Waving at you he stepped futher in the bus shelter, opening his arm to welcome you in excitedly.

You watched him intently as you walked inside, you felt curious about him as he had an aura you couldn’t quite place. When inside you stood parallel to him, watching as his posture slowly decompressed like he was glad you were here. You briefly wondered what he meant by stopping by it didn’t seem like the appropriate term to use in this scenario, but you argued with yourself that he could’ve been flustered.

Gazing down at his arm a cane had appeared- one that wasn’t there before, you had to do double take, assuring yourself that you were seeing things correctly. As you did so, he leaned ever so slightly on it putting more trust in the cane then he probably should have. “An apple?” You questioned observing the handle that he grasped with gloved hands. His eyebrow rose with a confused expression gracing his gorgeously sculpted face waiting for you to elaborate. “Your cane, sir.” You smiled nodding toward it, feeling a strange sense of adoration him and for the far away look in his eyes, one you recognized. “Cane? Oh, OH! My cane, ha! Yes uh, apples. They’re, uh gods gift after all.”

Realization flooded his face, smirk reappearing as he leaned forward just a bit, as he did so you felt a sudden sense of familiarity that was almost sickening. You’ve never felt such a pull before to a person like you did in this moment. “Would you like an apple? It’s cold out, you must be tired after such a long tedious day.” Watching him as he dug into his pocket pulling out a decently sized apple- perfectly red as well.

Tilting your head to the side questioningly you ask; “How did you know my day was tedious?” The question came out gently, quiet, void of any accusation or fear. Instead you felt calm gazing from his captivating eyes to the apple, hand stallled just a bit away from yourself reaching toward. “It’s so evident on your face, you poor thing. Here go ahead sweetheart.” His voice that was once insecure, unsure and bouncing in pitch, was now relaxed, smooth and hypnotizing.

There was no malice or condescension in what he said, but rather an observation of what you failed to hide in your current state. Nodding with a short shrug, you reach further, the man meeting you half way to place the fruit in your palm. Your hand briefly touched his own gloved one, they were warm as ever, and you’d wish you could’ve gotten more of a feel.

Smiling at him you suddenly noticed his lids were covered in a lavender purple, perhaps you noticed because they were lidded at you now, unlike before when they were wide. His smile was lazy as he watched you bite into his fruit. It was probably one of the more fresher apples you’d ever bitten into, and as you swallowed the first bite your stomach growled, literally demanding more.

The strange man in white chuckled at the sound of your stomach, and before you could let embarrassment consume you he spoke. “See! So glad I found you, wouldn’t want you starving now would we?” It seemed he had gone back to his boisterous mood as he watched you crunch happily down.

“Thank you so much sir, this is such a good apple, really, did you grow this in your garden?” You asked him, he came closer standing beside you, the two of you now facing the road, looking out at the rain. “Mm, not my garden…” The man muttered under his breath, you quirked a brow humming at him barely hearing what he said. His eyes widened and he quickly shook his head. “Heh! Oh nothing sweets! Don’t worry, i was just, uh, remembering some stuff. From. Like, the past.”

It was as if he’d lost his cool for a moment, stumbling over everything that came out of his mouth, his gaze fixed ahead at nothing. You admired the side of his face as you chewed the last bit of apple, his head slowly turned to you, eyes catching your own.

“You’re eyes are ethereal.” You breathe eyes squinted in focus as you drank him up. You didn’t fully mean to say what you said, it was something just burst out of you without restraint because you felt so strongly about the beauty they held.

Stuttering, he blushed finding it hard to gather the words under the heated look you were giving him. “Thank you, YN.” The man finally said easy going smile once again present on his face. Before you could say anything in return- including questioning how the hell he knew your name, he again reached in his pocket this time pulling out a single playing card the king of hearts. Furrowing your brows you accepted the card but didn’t understand why he gave it to you.

“Love a good game of cards, always have! I think we’ll see each other some day soon!” The man exclaimed smiling brightly at you, behind you, you could make out the sound of a bus coming up to your stop. You smiled and thankedthe man regardless of the oddities, he returned the gesture smiling toothily at you. He rested himself against his cane again watching you intently as you glanced behind you. The bus lights lit up your figure, and you supposed you’d get on for the rest of the ride home. Turning with a smile to say your farewells to the mystery man, your stomach dropped. The man had vanished, and you’d only looked away a second. Stepping out into the rain, you peered up and down the long streets, unable to see his white coat or hat in either direction.

Standing next to the curb the bus whined to a stop, the compressed air blowing out warmly at your legs. When the bus driver opened his doors, you stepped on tapping your finger against the safety glass. The conductor looked at you exhausted by the night and the people he handled.

“Sorry if this is strange, but did you see anyone in the bus shelter with me?” The diver looked at you and it was obvious to him he couldn’t care less, but you stayed put waiting the vocal confirmation. “No ma’am, but if i’m being honest i wasn’t paying attention.”

You nodded quickly eyes casted down, thanking him you put your toll in and walked your way down the isle. When in your seat, you pulled out the card once more to inspect it in the light. Your eyebrows lifted looking down at the card, written on the back where there was nothing before, now had beautiful calligraphic writing with an address on it.

Typing the address into your phone, it directed you to what looked to be a website where people posted looking for house sitters. Turning your mouth in a disgusted manor, you silently questioned why the hell this man would give you such a thing. Scrolling through the different enlistings, you boredly read through descriptions and pay killing time until your stop.

Just a few stops away from home, your thumb stopped on a house, it was a pretty decent home appeared to be some sort of log cabin. The pay they were willing to give was generous, and it was only for three days, oddly enough. Clicking on it, you read through the description, they asked not to bring pets, eat their food, or sleep in their bedrooms asking to bring something to sleep on.

It was a two hour commute by drive, but seeing as you didn’t drive, it was a four hour commute with the train. You sent the owner a quick message telling them that you needed the pay and you were willing to comply to all the rules no issues. After sending your message, you stood mirroring the robotic voice as it called the name of your stop.

—

“Hi welcome!” Marie greeted you with a handshake, smiling at her you shook back. Walking into the cabin alongside Marie she explained that she needed to pick her husband up from a business trip from the middle east, and her house was too high maintenance for her to leave behind. “Occasionally, the pipes will freeze if the temperature drops, you the heat will need to controlled carefully. There’s a garden outback i am very proud of, i’d really appreciate you checking on it daily, just to make sure no pesky animals intrude.”

Walking through the house, you notice different things hanging, but no family pictures. The house was filled with mahogany and oak woods, which were really gorgeous, the house was dark and lit by yellow lighting from different chandeliers and vintage looking collectors lamps.

“Oh! Also if you need we have a prayer room! Don’t touch anything in there as they’re very expensive. Besides that, you’re good. Alright i gotta run, this willl be a very tedious trip. Call me if you have any problems.” Nodded as she spoke, you walked along side her towards the front door. You smiled at her assuring that all would be well, and if there was any problems you wouldn’t hesitate to call.

—

Another rain storm moved into the area thunder shaking the cabin. You had a cot set up in the living room per Marie’s request, and your food was put away in the fridge. You had gotten into shorts and a t-shirt now that you didn’t have to worry about being presentable and settled in the cot with your phone and laptop.

You’d been in the house for ten hours now, and you weren’t able to relax, paranoia filled your mind as you felt off about being in a strangers home. The urge and need for money fueled you in the beginning, but now alone in the middle of the woods, in a cabin that isn’t your own with a thunderstorm overhead, yeah you were filled with anxiety.

Just as you felt a bit of tension release from your shoulders, three knocks sounded from the door making you jumped from the disruption of silence. Standing cautiously you walked to the fire place grabbing one of the pokes that sat off to the side, and went to the door. Peeping through the hole you were surprised to be greated by the man from the bus stop. He held the rim of his hat down over his his face that held a scowl of discomfort, slumped over and soaked.

Opening the door you stood the fire poke off to the side against the wall. Despite your apprehension and confusion, something in you felt compelled to open the doo. “What the hell?” You exclaim, watching him perk up at the sound of your voice, eyes naturally finding your own. “Oh you! Y’know i had a feeling you’d be here, uhh, mind helping me out. It’s freezing!”

Grabbing his bicep you tugged him in, him letting out waohs as he stumbled in letting you do as you pleased. Slamming the door behind you, you grabbed his shoulders gently looking into his eyes. “What the fuck are you doing all the way out here? God, you’re soaked.” You saying eyeing him, he was wearing the white outfit he had on nearly two months ago.

Walking to your suitcase you pulled out a towel, t-shirt and joggers for the man. Turning you walked back to the entry to see him already half naked, gasping you spun on your heel. “What the hell dude! Put this on!” You screamed tossing all the items behind your back.

The man laughed, it sounded charming and he seemed delighted at your shock. “Don’t worrrryyy, its no biggie. Look as long as you please.” Scoffing you turned seeing him with the joggers on, hat tossed to the side drying his hair. “You look very good tonight,“ The man trailed eyeing you up and down.

You felt hot at such a statement making you feel like a horn dog. You crossed your arms and gave him a grin. “Can I help you by the way, maybe call you a car? I’m uh, house sitting.” You explain walking up to him, he shook his head smiling coyly at you. “No no, thats, fine.” You went to question further but he had other ideas and brushed past you wandering into the house.

“I don’t even know your name!” You say speedily following him as he observed everything in the cabin he passed. He glanced back at you briefly before muttering; “Lucifer,” Quickly before you could get a word in edge wise he turned aburptly stopping, you bumping into him lightly. “And I only ask that you spare me a few hours, maybe a meal?”

-

So there you two sat, you had ate with the man, and now sat listening to the stories of a man who swore up and down his name was Lucifer. He explained his predicament while you ate, saying that he just took a wrong turn and drove into a ditch.

You laughed along he told you interesting and funny stories of his life and the people around him, telling you about his crafting hobby. Which captivated you the most, honestly you were mesmerized by the man, and he seemed to feel the same about you.

His eyes lidded and relaxed, his chin rested on his hand, leaning forward completely encapsulated by your presence. You never had a man so focused on you, he hung on every word, and you felt that framillar tinge once again, pulling you into him.

The magnet kept pulling you in, and you were ever so hungry for the man in front of you. “Yeah, my daughter uh, she’s like me with the ambition. I’m just afraid she’s gonna end up like me.” Lucifer said shrugging while looking off to the side. You wont deny you felt the slightest bit upset at the statement, daughter implies mother. “Even if she does fail the only thing can do is be there for her through the trip. It’s harder to fail alone, i think.”

Nodding in contemplation the blondes eyes came back to you, his hands came the the middle of the table causing your gaze to drop. His hands twisted, flicked and your focus was now on a gold circle spinning on the table. His wedding band.

“She’s been alone a long time, my wife, she left seven years ago, we’d been divorced since Charlie was a toddler, heh, kept hoping she’d return. I left Charlie alone too, kinda thought it was for the best. Not anymore. We work together.” He explained smiling at the mention of his daughter. Slapping his hand atop the ring ceasing its momentum he looked at you watching as you placed your hand ontop of his, gently caressing him as you did so.

The two of you stared at each other silently, for how long you weren’t sure. It wasn’t until he pulled himself to his feet sluggishly that the staring spell broke. The confidence returned to him, as did his mischievous smirk. You were under the assumption be was ready to go so you stood with him.

Just as you were about to speak, thanking him for the unique experience he granted you, he grabbed you by the arms and tugged you into him. You fell forward hands flying to his chest, meanwhile his head tilted and softly his lips met yours. You didn’t have time to question a thing before your lips danced in tandem with his. Perhaps you should’ve been less willing than you were but how could you not be? It was like a gift from god, this man.

You wrapped your arms around his neck pulling him to your chest, his hand moved from your arm to your hips grinding himself into you needily. You whimpered at the contact feeling how excited he already was, when you whimpered he took the chance to sneak his tongue into your mouth. As your own tongue slid past his you stuttered feeling how long he could reach, and moaned at the way he tried to swallow you whole so nastily.

Pulling back slightly, Lucifer paused as you felt the fork of his tongue. Shocked you pulled back fully looking at his lustful expression, it was almost as if his eyes were a darker shade.

“What’s wrong?” He asked hands slowly travelling from your hips up to the hem of your shirt, toying with it. “Your tongue?” At your inquisitive tone, he stuck his tongue out. “Thish?” He spoke through is tongue that stuck out to your, normal sized and unforked.

Smirking at him you shook your head gently you must’ve been nervous. Pulling him toward your make shift bed you two crashed down on it haphazardly, he leaned back on his elbows watching as you crawled on top of him meeting his lips eagerly. His hair was slightly disheveled, his breathing jagged under you.

You slid yourself up and down, gliding yourself purposely right on his hard on. Pulling away from the sloppy make out session you two were in, Lucifer looked at you with glassy eyes. “Let’s make deal,” He breathed panting to catch some of the breath you stole straight from him.

“What?” You whispered inches from his lips. “Let me have you, all of you and when the time comes you’ll be a queen, you’re just a diamond in the rough.” There was almost a saddness you could detect, maybe something you could describe as mournfully lonesome. You felt the tug; the pull to him you couldn’t deny, so you took his hand away from your hip, and shook it. “Deal.” You say mocking something that would be business offical.

With a sly grin, he pushed himself up to you, your lips crashing into his instantaneously. You bit his lip gently as he grinded himself into you enjoying how unashamed he was of showing his desire. You met his grinding with your own, dragging your hands down his warm chest. Lucifers breath stuttered at your touch, his nails sinking into your flesh with anticipation.

You stopped at the band of the joggers pulling away from the kiss. As you did Lucifers eyes were wide, pupils blown and he robotically lifted himself by his hips, awkwardly shuffling his joggers down. You lifted yourself so he could get them the rest of the way down before tossing your shirt to the side.

Grinding down on his uncovered cock you moaned head thrown back, he was all consuming and the air felt so hot after the deal. It was desperation that was evident on both your faces, Lucifer hypnotized by you as you greedily grinded against him. Lucifer whimpered laying back down flat on the cot trying to stop himself from violently bucking up.

“Tell me what you want Lucifer,” You purred lifting your hips from his boner rotating your hips round and round while just barely touching his dick beneath you. “Fuck please, get on me.” Lucifer gritted out teeth clenched, eyes closed sparkling at how tight he had them sealed.

Manurvering yourself you pulled down your shorts and urged him to sit up. Lazily he followed your pull sitting up straight toward you. You liked this position way more, face to face as your sunk yourself down on his cock. His legs jerked, spreading out falling off each side of the caught causing you to bottom out, slipping right down to his balls.

“Oh shit you’re an angel, fuck, you feel so good, oh,” Lucifer whimpered voice wavering, although he smiled through the pleasure. Unwillingly he fucked up into you, your body unmoving jerked up with his hips, you were too busy getting used to him girth and size not to mention his all consuming presence. He was so hot, smug, and it made you feel hornier than you already are.

Sliding your hips forward you whimper and moaned. Face in your neck he breathed you in, whimpering as he continued to fuck up into every now and again, still trying to hold back for you. You wrapped your legs around his back clenching on unable to speak as Lucifer had your brain wiped of all thought.

Lucifer bit down holding back a groan, effectively drawing blood from the wound, licking it right up after. Suddenly like a madman, he gripped you like a life line, gently but swiftly flipping you over onto your back. He looked down at you with red eyes stunning you into silence. “Lucifer?” You whispered breathlessly as he smiled down at your form, his tongue darting, out forked once again, and dragged his devilish tongue against his no longer normal teeth.

Without responding he sunk himself into you, your legs on their own accord flew up around Lucifer as he slowly plunged himself into you. You cried out in pleasure as he picked up the pace slamming his hips into you, skin slapping filled the room as well as Lucifers gravel groans and growls.

Your eyes were closed as you reached up to him, your body jerked at his thrusts the cot creaking. You pulled him toward you, he made no effort to pull away from your tugging. His lips met yours pulling you into a hot kiss, you met him with need, teeth clashing and tongues twisting. You being to fucked out in bliss to realize the razor sharp teeth that nicked your lips and tongue, or the snake like tongue that explored your mouth.

You moaned at the sensations you felt all around you, your heightened senses picking up the cold snake like skin that whipped by your calf. Opening your eyes you clenched coming face to face with Lucifer, the devil, the literal devil.

Long red horns stuck out from his pale skin, red eyes lidded and glowing down at you, sharp teeth evident by his smirked. His pace never slowed as he watched you stare at him, and his pride swelled at the fleeing of you clenching him tightly, legs simultaneously pulling him in closer.

“Like what you see angel?” You mewled at his words grabbing his shoulders as he looked down at you eyes full of desire and pride. “Yes,” You gasped as he hit a pretty little spot inside you that made you sing to him.

“Please Lucifer!” A rumble sounded in his chest a noise you couldn’t describe. Attempting to stabilize your jerking body, your hands moved to grip his back but paused at the feeling of feathers. Lazily your mouth fell open, body jerking as your head tilted to the side getting a better look at the red and white wings that cascaded far across the room.

“O-oh, my god, fuuuck.” You moaned trying to make sense of the display in front of you but Lucifer pressed his finger down on your clit making you loose control of your mind once more, bucking up to him, begging him.

You pleaded to Lucifer like a chant to him, looking into his red glowing eyes. His smile was gone his eyes lidded eyebrows pinched as he fought off the urge to cum just a little longer.

With a shout your body shook tensing, toes curling, Lucifer muttered your name over and over worshipping your name as you did to him. His hips halted deep within you and he bit down on your neck leaving several different bite marks.

Pulling away he stared down at your sweaty body his demonic form shrinking away, his eyes going yellow with his natural red irises. You stared shocked at him, but he only coyly smiled at you. “How was your date with the devil?” He smiled brushing his hand down your cheek.

“You’re really the devil?” You asked in disbelief and astonishment. “Well y’know,” He coughed looking away, pulling away from you effectively pulling out of you. “Yeah that’s what they call me.” Another charming smile graced his face.

Your lurched upward eyes wide. “I made a deal with the devil?!” You exclaimed not feeling the way you expected if you were to meet the devil. Y’know fear.

“Yep, and, you promised yourself to me,” Popping his ‘p’ as well as accentuating the ‘and’, he tossed the ring at you. Swiftly you caught it, and by the time you looked down at it, and then back up to him, he was redressed in his suit, coat and hat.

“Speaking of which, I’ve got a kingdom to run.” Thunder rumbled shaking the cabin making the lights flicker out ominously, and in that brief moment, the devil himself, disappeared. Leaving you alone, with his ring, naked in the cabin.

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel imagine #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel smut #lucifer hazbin hotel #lucifer magne x reader #lucifer morningstar x reader #hazbin lucifer #lucifer x reader #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin hotel lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer magne #lucifer morningstar

[animehideout]

idk if u are taking requests but I thought about “jjk men reacting to a s/o with tramp stamp” … if u did it would be nice …

JJK men reacting to tramp stamp

A/N: Hello, thanks for your request, I hope you like it <3 well here the reader is not necessarily s/o but reader and jjk men have feelings for each other.

Warning: hmm kinda smut ❤️‍🔥 ??

Gojo Satoru : At Prom Party.

It was prom party that night at Jujutsu High, teachers were also allowed to attend, and you were one of the new teachers who joined this year. So your secret admirer and co-worker Gojo Satoru seized the opportunity and found it fit to invite you to go to prom with him, as two young and beautiful teachers. Since all of you live in Jujutsu High dormitory, you were already in the middle of the party ground, and no need for Gojo to pick you up from your room.

Satoru mingled through the prom, wearing am expensive and elegant black suit, he was searching for you and then found you with your girl students, all of you dressed in cute dresses. Satoru's eyes widened. He wasn't used to you wearing dresses, you've always been clad in your teaching uniform or something sporty. His heart skipped a beat when he saw you in a sleek low-back dress, you looked really stunning and sexy, outshining everyone there. He took a moment to admire you from afar, then started walking towards but boy stopped mid way when you suddenly turned around to greet Itadori, the intricate design of the tramp stamp tattoo that's briefly visible above the edge of your dress caught Gojo's eyes and took his breath away. For a split second, his expression flickered with surprise. His gaze lingering on your lower back, trying to see the details of your tattoo, but soon you turned again and he's left with replaying that hidden and unexpected glimpse of rebellion in his mind. He'd walk over to you and try to stay composed.

Each time you turn around or something he tried to peek without appearing like a creep, but he desperately wanted to see it up close and maybe trace it with his long fingers. Even though he was surprised, he actually liked it and it made you look even more badass and he loves that. You'd notice how he was acting really awkward and weird, you thought he hated the party or something but truth is he couldn't stop thinking and envisioning his hands tracing your inked lower back so delicately, admiring and taking into the details of that tramp stamp of yours. You'd ask him if he's okay and he'll just blurt it out . He was so done and wanted to see it real bad.

" I noticed you've got a tattoo! I didn't know you're into tattoos "

"Oh this one?" you'd say and turn around giving him a better and clear display.

He'd gulp. His heart hammering against his ribcage at the beautiful sight, the tattoo, your well defined back, the way the dress was looking gorgeous from behind, he couldn't help but fall deep for you, he found you more and more irresistible.

"Wow I wanna touch it– holy shit sorry, I'm not a pervert!!! " he started explaining when he realized he voiced his deepest desires.

But you'd cut him off with a visible smirk,

" Of course, but let's keep it after the party, shall we ? "

He took the hint and realized that you've got something for him as well, and now he can't wait when the party's over so he can get what he's been thinking about for the whole night.

Suguru Geto : At Tattoo Shop

Your friend Geto started a new project and opened his own tattoo and piercing shop. So you and your group of friends, Satoru and Shoko thought about paying him a visit and support him. The shop screams Geto, it's literally his vibe, black and grey wallpaper, and electric guitar hanging on the wall, the scent of his cologne taking over the whole space, making it more inviting. You've always liked the way he smells tho.

Suguru got really happy when you arrived, he appreciated your support for his business, but more importantly cuz you were there. Shoko was getting a new piercing and you thought about getting a small design right under your collarbone. He was too excited to tattoo you and maybe exchange eye contact in the process. It didn't take too long for him to get the tattoo done, the design was really small and Geto is a pro.

" So what do you think?" he asked nervously, handing you a mirror.

" Oh wow I love it Suguru, you're really good at this, good job! you never disappoint"

" You took it like a champ tho! you didn't even flinch for a first time getting tattoed, especially that area is pretty sensitive " he said proudly

you giggled and said, " Oh actually it's not my first tattoo "

" What ? and how come we don't know about that? " asked Shoko

" Um because it's hidden!"

" Care to show us miss ? Come on don't be shy now" she added,

" Ugh fine " you rolled your eyes and smiled,

You lifted your shirt a bit and slightly pushed done your pants only to show your lower back, and a beautiful tramp stamp tattoo came to display. Geto's eyes were fixated in your lower back, your soft skin and how it was decorated with a breathtaking design that made your back even more attractive. His breath hitched up in his throat, feeling more drawn to you, but at the same time jealous because someone else got to touch you there and tattoo you. He wished it was him, taking his time to design your lower back and give you that pretty pain.

" A- a tramp stamp?" he stuttered,

" Yeah I got it 2 months ago, if I knew you're planning to open up a tattoo shop I would've waited so you can tattoo me "

" Oh shoot Suguru, unlucky " teased Gojo knowing about the obvious spark between both of you.

Suguru glared at his friend, getting really upset, because he desperately wanted to be the one to ink you and not anyone else. But he couldn't help how warm the atmosphere was getting, you looked very hot.

" I'm getting more tattoos though, but now I know I'll come to you to ink me " you said wanting his hands to be on you in any possible way.

Suguru's pupils expanded, a smirk appeared on his face. He got more excited and now he can't wait for his next session with you.

" Any specific spots ? "

" I like hidden spots more " you smiled,

" Alright Shoko I guess we don't fit here anymore " exclaimed Gojo wrapping his arm around Shoko's shoulder pulling her outside with him so he can give his best friend some privacy with you.

You spent the rest of the evening, in Geto's shop, just the two of you, discussing tattoos, exchanging your mutual likings, and choosing the perfect spot that he'll ink.

You spent the rest of the evening talking about your mutual passion for tattoos, chosing what spot you'll decorate next and maybe showing him once again that beautiful tattoo, for inspiration purposes.

Choso Kamo : At The Beach

Choso's heart pounded out of hos chest as he watched the sunrise with you, it was your second date together after you officially started dating. He thought that watching the sunrise together at the beach is romantic, and man wanted to act romantic just for you. Poor baby was doing his best.

" I love this place " you said as you rested your head on his shoulder.

The water was inviting, sparkling in the sun rays, the gentle waves creating a therapeutic sound.

" Yeah, a calm place for both of us " he said, hesitantly pressing a kiss on top of your head.

He was still shy around you, very careful with his moves even though you were chill and cool around him. Trying to not rush things to not make you uncomfortable in any way.

" Should we swim ? " you suggest out of the blue with a big excited smile on your face.

" Swim? Now ? I think the water is cold now!"

" I like it cold, it's refreshing. Don't you think " you answered, your eyes shining with happiness.

" I– "

But before he could say anything, you already stripped out of your clothes, living you in your bikini. You knew you can't resist the water, so you wore your bikini in case you decided to swim.

" I came prepared " you laughed and started running to the water.

Choso froze. He didn't know how to act. He didn't expect you to easily take off your clothes, in front of him like that, his cheeks turned red like cherries. But what made him more flustered is the tattoo that was clearly visible on your lower back. Choso gasped, his heart almost jumping out of his throat. Your figure, your inked skin made it hard for him to breathe or function and now he's all red, awkward not knowing what his next move is. But he took his time to stare at your back, since he's your boyfriend and he kinda felt that he has the green light to look at you as much as he wants.

" Aren't you coming? " you asked, as you started playing with water.

He smiled at your cute behavior and built up the courage, taking off his clothes and joined you in the water. You were pretty aware that he noticed your tattoo, it was meant for him to see it and you patiently waited for him to say something. You hugged him while both of you were in the water, his hands wrapped around your waist.

" Your back.. it's so pretty ! " he whispered

" Hmm, come again? " you teased

" T-the t-tattoo on your back, it looks so p-pretty on you! I didn't know you have it " he stuttered,

" Oh thank you, I keep it hidden most of the time only for y– " you said with a shy smile.

" me, only for me to see it " he interrupted growing more confident.

" Yes Choso only for you to see it "

It turned him on, and he felt proud that you're his girlfriend and that he gets to see and touch that tattoo as much as he wants. Without hesitation this time, he crushed your lips together, taking you into a deep wet kiss, while the waves made you sway.

" And only for me to touch it " he mumbled into the kiss.

Ryomen Sukuna : One Night Stand

You've liked Sukuna for so long, but didn't have the courage to confess or even start a conversation with him, so you've always watched him from a distance completely unaware that he's actually obsessed with you. He wanted to have you so bad, he's always seen you as an innocent human being so he was very careful with the way he'd approach you, worried that he might scare you away.

One night, you went to a party to celebrate one of your friends birthday and to your luck, Sukuna was there. You didn't notice he was there, till he offered you a drink and invited you to dance with him. Both of you living the dream that you desired for months.

The sexual tension was so strong between both of you, and none of you could wait any second longer. So you left the party early to be together, under each other's touch. He took you back to his place, and all what you can do is making out, you wanted this for many months and now you can't let this opportunity to taste him slide from between your fingers. That make out session, eventually led to sex. And now both of you stripping out of your clothes. You knew Sukuna is dominant, his appearance, his attitude, his everything screams dominance and you couldn't help but submit to him.

" And now turn around princess can you do that for me ? " he said in his deep voice, sending shivers down your spine.

You did as he said, waiting for his next move. But he didn't do anything. All what you can feel is his veiny hands around your waists.

" Sukuna? " you started and looked back.

You can see his eyes fixated on your arched lower back. His eyes darkening full of admiration and lust.

" A tattoo? " he asked,

" Y-yea ? " you were confused and worried thinking that he changed his mind and didn't wanna make love to you.

" Fuck! and I thought you were innocent huh ? "

" Why? innocent girls can't have a tramp stamp? " you said teasingly,

" Damn, and I thought you can't get any hotter.. that's so rebellious of you princes, and I enjoy handling rebellious ones " he smirked and pushed you down even more.

His tattooed hands roaming your lower back, tracing your tattoo with his nails, that poking feeling making you jump slightly but he kept you still, you can feel his breath and lips on your skin, kissing your tattooed skin, making your heart race and head spin.

" Imma enjoy this pretty view while I make you scream my name "

To say the less, he gave you the best night of your life.

#jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk men x reader #gojo satoru smut #geto suguru smut #choso kamo smut #ryomen sukuna smut #sukuna smut #gojo smut #choso smut #geto smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x you #gojo x reader #geto x reader #choso x reader #sukuna x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk imagines #jjk headcanons #gojo headcanons #geto headcanons #choso headcanons #sukuna headcanons #jjk x y/n #jjk ff #jjk gojo #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen masterlist #jujutsu kaisen headcanons

[futureman]

old dogs don't change

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

summary: weeks after sleeping together, your no-strings-attached agreement goes up in flames when joel goes on a date with another woman. you make sure that never happens again. (sequel to keep it on the low)

warnings: 18+ MDNI, ex-boyfriend!joel, jackson era, tlou 2 jesse appearance, age gap, hurt, angst, smut, unprotected piv, post-breakup sex, rough sex, public sex, rough oral (m!receiving), exhibitionism, possessive behavior, jealousy, alcohol use, briefly dating other people

word count: 10.6k

You have no idea who she is, but you bet she’s a total bitch. Is that mean? Maybe. Do you give a shit? Nope.

To be fair, you’d probably say that about anyone Joel started dating after you, but that doesn’t mean it can’t still be true. Sure, you've never actually talked to her…or seen her before in your entire life, but that’s beside the point. She’s cute and bubbly, and everything you’re not, and that’s the point. 

It’s honestly a little comical how different the two of you are, and you can’t help but wonder if Tommy did that on purpose. You know he was the one who set them up. Everyone in the dining hall was talking about it this morning. The latest, hottest piece of gossip, bouncing from table to table like a cruel game of telephone. 

He probably thinks he’s protecting his big brother, but you think he needs to mind his own fucking business. It’s not like he knows anything about your relationship, not really. Well. It’s not your relationship anymore, is it? And Tommy, along with everyone else in this town, blames you for that.

Poor Joel, dumped by the biggest bitch in Jackson, who took advantage of his kindness and patience for years, and broke his heart when all he did was love her. Selfish, cold, and uncaring. Nothing like the pretty, perky girl sitting next to him in the booth they’re sharing at Seth’s. 

If only they knew what really happened.

The bar is especially busy, even for a Saturday night, so you figure no one’ll notice you blatantly glaring at them. It’s not like you care, anyway. You’re feeling warm and loose, and maybe a little too tipsy for your own good, but tonight, you get to do whatever the fuck you want. 

Because Joel’s sitting ten feet away with his arm slung around another woman, and it hurts. 

It sucks way worse than him avoiding you since the last time you slept together, after all of the things you did and said on that couch. The things he said. You shoo away the thought with another swig of beer, wishing you were drinking something stronger. It's for the best. 

If you get any drunker, you’ll probably end up doing something stupid, and the last thing you need is to prove everyone right that he’s better off without you. But you can’t seem to shake the anger that’s starting to simmer below the surface. 

With the emotional toll this night has already taken, you kind of don’t want to. So, you surrender to it. Fuck him. He’s a piece of shit for parading his new girl around right in front of you, and for breaking off your agreement without so much as a word. 

If he wanted to see other people, he should’ve opened his mouth and used his big boy words. Then again, he’s always been terrible at that, so why are you surprised? 

Maybe he’ll fuck her tonight. Touch her all of the ways you like because that’s all he knows anymore. She’ll moan for him, soft and sweet, gentle in her affection, just like she’s touching him right now. But it won’t satisfy him, and when he’s panting on top of her, chasing that all-consuming release only you can give him, you know he’ll be pretending she's you. 

Asshole.

You’re still watching them, shooting daggers from your spot at the bar, when your wish from earlier is granted. Two overflowing shot glasses topped with lime are placed in front of you, and you look up to see a very attractive dark-haired, brown-eyed man smirking down at you.

"Looked a little lonely over here," he says in a raspy baritone even lower than Joel's. He clinks the top of your beer bottle with the bottom of his own. "Thought you could use some company, maybe another drink."

Well, he’s right. You could use some company, and you’d love another drink. There’s no harm in having a little fun, right? If Joel’s doing it, then there’s nothing stopping you.

"So, both of these are for me, then?" you smile coyly, reaching for one. He nods, his own smile widening.

"Could be. Can I join ya?" he gestures to the empty stool next to you. 

He has this cocky look on his face like he already knows you'll say yes, and in your inebriated state, you think it's kind of hot. It reminds you of Joel when you first met. How he knew exactly what he wanted and wouldn't give up until it was his. Until you were his.

You consider him for a moment. He’s young, maybe even younger than you, and obviously confident enough to make a move on you. Fleetingly, you think he might end up being that stupid thing you do tonight, but then you down one of the shots and decide you don't actually care. 

What turns out to be tequila burns the entire way down, and you immediately pick up a slice of lime. You’re hyperaware of the way his eyes lock onto your mouth as you suck on the sour fruit, lingering when a droplet of juice dribbles down your chin. 

It’s not a total surprise when he reaches up to thumb it away, but you are taken off guard by how strange it makes you feel. The pad of his finger is disappointingly smooth, no weathering or even a hint of a callus. You're not sure why that matters to you, but you can take a decent guess.

You chance a glance over at Joel's table and, of course, you have his full attention now. His entire body looks tense, from his hand clenched on the table to the prominent vein bulging angrily in his neck. 

Good. Now he knows how it feels.

Looking back up at your mystery guy, you run your tongue along your bottom lip, catching any remaining lime before you finally give him an answer. 

"Sure. Pop a squat, cowboy," you giggle. It doesn't even sound like you and feels wrong the second it passes your lips, but as long as Joel heard it, that's all that matters. "You got a name?"

He replies, but you're too busy keeping an eye on Joel in your peripheral to catch what he says. In the back of your mind, you think that’s probably a good thing. You'd rather not know, especially if you do end up taking him home. 

Mystery guy laughs at your noncommittal hum and you realize you’ve been caught. But he doesn’t seem upset. It’s clear he’s amused by your obvious interest elsewhere and that piques your curiosity. 

Any other guy here would’ve been pissed by your apathy, especially if they’d bothered to buy you a drink that you accepted, but apparently not this one.

He sits down on the stool next to you, pulling it close enough that his knee presses against yours. You unconsciously lean into him, your skin erupting in goosebumps despite your growing unease.

He's...baffling. A total enigma. You can’t figure out what his deal is or why he’s choosing to keep pursuing you when your eyes have been glued to another man all night. 

The thought of letting this continue long enough to find out is a little thrilling. Might as well see where this goes. If it escalates, you’re more than confident in your ability to care of yourself.

But it happens sooner than you expect. His hand finds the back of your stool and, then, his lips are suddenly right next to your cheek. You can feel the warmth of them as he tilts his head to whisper in your ear.

“Look, not try'na to overstep, but…,” his eyes dart to where Joel’s sitting, unreservedly ignoring his date. The poor thing barely notices, chattering away about something not nearly as important to him as watching you. His gaze returns to you, and you can feel him smirking. “You wanna make that guy you've been staring at all night jealous?"

That’s—wow. You didn’t see that one coming. He’s got a lot of audacity to assume that’s something you’d want, let alone offer…what? His services? 

But, then again, he isn’t wrong. Joel’s been the only thing on your mind since you walked into Seth’s tonight and saw him with her. He’s always on your mind if you’re being totally honest with yourself. It’s plain to see, obvious to every single person in this bar including the man himself.

You eye your mystery guy curiously for a second before nodding, your lips quirking into a small smirk. Maybe it’s time to prove to Joel and everyone else in this judgmental town that you’ve moved on, too. That you’re not the sad, bitter shrew that deserves to be alone.

"Yeah, actually, I do," you reply cautiously. But there's still one lingering question that has yet to be answered. "I just…why? I don’t get why you’re helping me. What are you getting out of this?”

He shrugs, and somehow you can just tell by the look in his eyes that there’s no hidden agenda. You’re not sure how you’re just noticing, but he has kind eyes. This whole time, he’s been nothing but patient and attentive, like Joel always was—...is? 

Was.

You almost wish you could fall for someone like this man instead of pathetically clinging to your past. Maybe you’ll at least get a friend out of this crazy night, if nothing else. But then you remember one, tiny problem with that idea.

“Can you tell me your name again? I promise you have my full attention this time,” you smile sheepishly. He chuckles good-naturedly and, again, doesn’t seem to hold it against you.

“It’s Jesse,” he says with a deep, southern drawl you should probably be more attracted to. “And let’s just say I know how it feels to want someone ya can’t have.”

You nod slowly, understanding perfectly. Except—you didn't realize up until this moment that that's exactly what you want. Someone you can't ever have. 

And it took seeing Joel with someone else, his body pressed up against a woman that isn't you, to realize it. Well, that fucking sucks.

You decide not to ask about Jesse's situation. It's not your business and, anyway, you're both trying to feel better about your circumstances, not worse. 

There’s a silent sense of camaraderie between you that tells you to throw caution to the wind. Tossing back the second shot, you turn your stool to face his, literally and figuratively turning your back on Joel. 

“It’s really nice to meet you, Jesse,” you murmur, and you genuinely mean it. He grins, leaning in slowly, still giving you time to back out if you want to, but you don't. 

Eat your heart out, Joel Miller. This one's for you.

"S'nice to meet you, too," he replies softly. 

Then, his lips are on yours. The kiss is wet and open-mouthed, and yet he handles you so delicately. He cradles your face in his hands as his tongue brushes against yours, and you moan softly into his mouth, letting your body get lost in the way he feels. And he feels so—

Much different than Joel. 

All you can think about is how much you miss Joel's rough touch, the way he'd thread his fingers through your hair and tug you into his mouth, nearly devouring you whole. Joel kissed you like every time might be the last, right up until it actually was. 

Fucking hell, why can't you just enjoy this without him ruining it for you?

You try to forget about it, about him, licking into Jesse's mouth a little more aggressively, and he groans, his body eager and responsive. It's probably more than you should be doing in public, sitting at a bar surrounded by people but, hell, you want them to see. 

They can say whatever they want about you. You're done giving a shit.

And, boy, will they have a lot to talk about after tonight. Joel makes sure of that. It happens so fast, you barely register that Jesse’s lips aren’t on yours anymore like they should be.

One moment, Jesse's hands are trailing down your sides to your waist, and the next, he's being forcibly dragged off you. Between you stands a broad, imposing figure ensuring you stay separated.

Your mind goes blank, and all you can do is watch in shock and disbelief as Joel lets loose on him, his words possessive and almost nonsensical. 

"The fuck you think you're doin' touchin' her like that? Y'need to learn how to keep your hands to yourself, kid, before ya get yourself in trouble," he grits out angrily. 

To his credit, Jesse stays cool and collected, but it’s not enough. There’s already a few pairs of eyes on you, drawn by the physical altercation, and it won’t be long before the rest of the bar notices the impending fight.

"Respectfully, sir, s'long as the lady consents, I'll put my hands wherever she wants," Jesse replies, standing his ground. He tries to move around him to return to your side, but Joel fixes him with a look that sends a shiver down your spine.

"S'that really a good idea?" Joel sounds menacing and looks even more so the longer the conversation continues. 

You’re still numb to everything unfolding in front of you and it’s not until Jesse’s next to you again, snaking an arm around your waist, that you finally come to. The reality of your situation hits you like a ton of bricks and now you’re mad. You open your mouth to retaliate, but Jesse cuts you off before you can get a word in.

“There a reason it wouldn’t be?” he turns the question back on Joel and you tense, anticipating a less-than-friendly answer. Jesse squeezes your hip in reassurance, but it does nothing to soothe your unease. He doesn’t know Joel like you do.

“Kid, do I look like I’m fuckin’ around? Take your hands off her and walk away. M'not gonna tell you again,” he all but growls, taking a threatening step forward. 

Neither of you back down. Jesse’s arm stays firm around you as your nails bite into your palm. It's taking everything you've got not to make a bigger scene than you already have.

You knew it. Since the breakup, you’ve been trying to reconcile this increasingly unfamiliar man with the Joel you gave your entire heart to all those years ago. With each passing month, the differences between the two become more and more obvious.

He's angrier now and has so much less patience. It's not that he's unkind. You know that no matter what his circumstances are, Joel will continue to be a good man. But he has a hair trigger, especially when it comes to you. 

And he wants. God, he always wants you. It’s not that you didn’t have an active sex life before everything fell apart. He just...fucks you differently now. Possessively and without restraint, like he needs to be sure you're satisfied enough to never need anyone else. The agreement to keep sleeping together was actually his idea. And it worked for a while—until it suddenly didn't. 

Now, you're forced to come face-to-face with that reality. Sitting at this bar, you spent the entirety of the night believing he'd decided he didn't want you anymore, that he was ready to find happiness in something simpler than sneaking around with his ex.

Except, it's starting to feel like maybe that's not as true as he made it seem. Like he never should've gone on this date in the first place.

"What the fuck, Joel?" you hiss, fighting to keep your volume under control. Not that it matters. The entire bar is staring at you, their eyes ping-ponging back and forth like they're watching a tennis match. "Back the fuck off. Now. This is none of your business."

"The hell it ain't my business. Some kid's runnin' his hands all over another man's girl and y'think that ain't my business?" 

His trembling hands clench into fists at his sides and, while you’re betting the rest of the bar thinks he’s preparing for a fight, that isn’t Joel. It might be you, though, if he keeps this up.

"Excuse me? And whose girl am I—yours? Because I'm pretty sure your girl is sitting over there in that booth. Or did you forget about your date?"

For a moment, he actually has the nerve to look ashamed, like he feels bad about leaving her all alone at their table and for humiliating her in front of all these people. He avoids her crestfallen gaze, likely not ready to face the hurt he’s caused. 

But it only lasts for a second before his eyes darken again, focused solely on you. As if Jesse, his pretty date, and everyone else in this bar disappeared, and it's just you and him. This conversation doesn't include them anymore. It's a private matter now.

"We're leavin'," he says with finality, his tone leaving no room for argument. 

He should know better. That's not how things work with you. You’re a fighter, a trait he’s always loved about you, even if your ire was directed at him. Back then, it rarely was.

"You're out of your mind if you think I'm leaving with you," you scoff bitterly. "Go back to your date, I'll go back to mine, and we can forget about this. All of it. We're done, Joel."

He shakes his head, mouth tipping down into a frown like he's thinking something over. Then, he huffs out a laugh. Like, an actual laugh, and you start to think maybe he really has lost his mind.

"Y'know, I really don't think we are, darlin'," he drawls dangerously. 

He's on you in an instant, his hand wrapped tightly around your arm as he drags you out of the bar. You briefly consider resisting, but he's moving too quickly. All of those shots you downed combined with the beer you drank earlier go straight to your head, and you're suddenly overwhelmingly distracted by the feeling of his skin on yours.

Fuck, it feels like it's been so long. In reality, you know it's only been a few weeks but, god, you missed it. His hands on your body, anywhere at all on your body. You'd hate how quickly you forget about Jesse if you could think about anything else but those familiar, rough fingertips.

The way they dig into you, reminiscent of how he'd squeeze your thighs or clutch your waist when he was making love to you.

...Wait, what? No...no, fuck. Why is he making this so difficult? Why—Christ...why can't you just leave each other alone? If he never planned on letting you go, he shouldn't have broken up with you. And if he still wanted you this badly...all he had to do was ask. You would've said yes in a heartbeat.

So, you let him steal you away, out into the brisk, wintry air that does little to cool your fury or the heat beginning to coil in your belly. The door shuts noisily behind you, and you immediately wrench your arm out of his grasp before he can say a word. It's your turn to talk now.

"What is wrong with you? You can't just...fuck, you can't do shit like this!" You're seething, practically shaking in your rage, and his expression doesn't look much different. 

"And you can? I dunno what the hell you were thinkin' gettin’ cozy with some goddamn kid, lettin’ him touch ya like that in front of the whole town," he reiterates harshly. He's starting to sound like a broken record. It's the only leverage he's got, and you both know it's flimsy at best.

"Some kid? Jesse's a fucking adult, clearly more mature than you," you bite back. "And it’s a bar, Joel. That's what people do at bars."

Joel scoffs, and you can tell he hates the way Jesse's name falls from your lips. Especially when those lips were on yours not even ten minutes ago. 

"And who are you to decide who can and can't touch me? You broke up with me," you continue resentfully. "You don't get a say anymore."

At that, his face becomes unreadable. He didn't need the reminder, and you know that, but it needed to be said for both of your sakes. Sometimes you think maybe he actually forgets it was his choice to give you up. That he didn't realize his decision would hurt you as much as it hurt him.

"So, what? You gonna take him home then, let him fuck ya?" He leans in close, so close you can feel his soft, graying curls against your temple and the coarse drag of his beard across your cheek. 

"Kiss ya here—," a finger trails delicately down the side of your neck to his spot above your collarbone, then continues down to where you've been aching for him for weeks, "—taste ya here." 

You slap his hand away before he can get any further, but your reaction only spurs him on. How could you forget? He likes that.

"Y'know he can't make ya feel as good as I do. Fuck you just how y'like it, make ya cum as hard as I do," he drawls confidently, almost smugly, in your ear. "Don't ya?"

It's less a question than a statement, because you both know he's right. Joel knows your body better than anyone ever has, maybe even better than you know it yourself. Just as much as you know his. And it's sort of funny. You were thinking the exact same thing about him with his date earlier.

"Sure, Joel. Just like you were gonna take that girl home, right?" You raise an eyebrow, turning your head so your lips graze his skin. "Pretty little thing like her, I bet she likes it slow and romantic. She’ll probably even stick around for a snuggle and some pillow talk. You'd love that.”

Even as you mock him, the sneer marring your face doesn’t quite meet your eyes, and the spiteful nature of your words tastes acrid as they pass your lips. He’s so good at that. Always able to bring out the worst in you to prove his point—that he’s no good for you.

But you stand firm, your chest pressed flush against his in a show of determination. You're still in control here, unlike Joel, whose fingers are twitching noticeably at his sides like he's just itching to get his hands on you again. 

"Maybe I would. Liked it with you, didn't I?" he murmurs wistfully, and that catches you completely off guard.

His words are almost too gentle to belong in this argument, and it doesn’t feel fair. What's worse, he looks like he means them. You’d prefer the fight, the aggression of the man who dragged you out of the bar. Not this. Not these traces of your Joel. 

You can already feel your resolve slipping, and the rapid thrum of your heartbeat tells you to let it. When his hands finally take their rightful place on your waist, he’s in control again.

The cool evening air is suddenly stifling, and you’re starting to feel like you’re suffocating, your thoughts a jumbled, heated haze of anger and fear and want. He squeezes hard enough to pull your hips into his and you unintentionally buck, allowing his hands to travel up your shirt. 

There's an intensity to his gaze, tinged with an unexpected tenderness. He almost looks...sated. Fulfilled, now that you're back in his arms. But not completely, not yet.

"You still haven't answered my question," he mutters. His hands splay across your ribcage, high enough for his thumbs to tease the undersides of your breasts.

You bite down hard on your bottom lip, sliding your hands up his chest to push him away so you can catch your breath, but your body won't cooperate. It's been well-trained to crave his touch. Exhaling sharply through your nose, you fist his shirt and instead pull him impossibly closer.

"You asked a lot of questions tonight. You're gonna have to be a little more specific,” you pant heavily.

It's getting more difficult to think, now, with the warmth of his body against you, his thumbs shifting higher to stroke your stiffening nipples. He urges your hips forward again to meet his, and you can already feel him straining in his jeans.

You whimper helplessly, unable to curb the way your body's reacting to him, and the soft sound causes something in him to snap. He suddenly backs you up against the hard brick of the bar's exterior and begins to grind languidly into your stomach. 

"Y'really believe that boy can take care of a woman like you? Hm?" He interrogates you, his voice gravelly and uneven in your ear. "Tell me I'm the only one who can give you what ya need. Wanna hear ya say it."

Fuck, you can't lie to him. As much as you want to, it's just one more thing your body won't allow you to do. Not when he's working you up like this. 

"You're the only one," you moan around your admission. He's still crowding you into the wall, his hands greedily roaming your soft curves.

His eyes meet yours, darting quickly to your mouth before he leans in to kiss you passionately like he’s rewarding you. It only lasts for a second, one deliciously fleeting second, before he pulls away. You’re not sure why you let him. Or why you kissed back.

"Who's the only man who can make ya scream?" he demands a little more urgently.

"You, Joel,” you murmur obediently, your lips already parted and ready for your prize.

And he acquiesces—another insistent kiss that doesn’t last nearly long enough. This time, you chase him, but he jerks his head back. He still has one last question for you. Except, this time, he looks afraid of the answer. 

"Whose girl are ya?"

He whispers it so softly, you barely catch it over the whistling, nighttime breeze. As he brushes a few ruffled strands of hair behind your ear, you answer without hesitation. 

"Yours, Joel."

His entire body relaxes. Now, he's complete.

"Damn right, you are—"

Then, the front door bursts open next to you, and he's abruptly cut off. Joel is quick to tug you around the corner into the alleyway before anyone can spot you, but he's not fast enough to keep you from seeing who just left the bar.

Jesse.

And there it is. A shock to the system, enough to clear some of that smoky, nostalgic haze and bring you back to the present. But as everything hurtles back for the second time tonight, this time around, you can’t be mad because he’s right.

Of course, you're not Jesse's girl. As pathetic as it sounds, you'll always be Joel's because he’s the only one who can take care of you and give you what need. The only man who can make you scream. But that goes both ways.

Even though he’s been picking fights all night, he hasn’t raised his voice once. It's not the way he wins his battles. So, maybe it's time to remind Joel Miller that there is someone who can make him scream. But he isn't allowed to unless you say so.

It all feels eerily familiar—his fingers digging into your waist and your lips crashing into his hard enough to bruise. You lead him deeper into the alley, back to where the glow of the string lights above the bar can't reach you, before you separate from him. 

Neither of you wants to be the one to say it, but it needs to be heard. Here, in the dark, you can be his completely, but once you part ways and return to your empty beds, that's it. Just like last time. The reasons for your breakup are still very real, and that means your relationship can't be.

"Only here. Right, Joel?"   

He stays silent for a moment, his gaze filled with deep longing and sadness. It almost makes you want to take it back. Take him back. So, when he shakes his head and cups your cheeks, kissing you like this might be his last chance, you're not surprised in the slightest.

And after this whole night—this whole confusing, fucked-up night—you let him. Right now, he needs this. Maybe you do, too.

His lips taste like whiskey and relief, and you return his kiss with all of the passion and fervor he’s pouring into you. You’re both a little frantic in the way you touch each other, but as much as you don’t want it to, it makes perfect sense. 

Those few weeks without each other felt like years, and now that his hands are back on your body and his voice, deep and dulcet, is in your ear telling you how badly he wants you, you don’t want to let him go again.

You grind the heel of your hand into the front of his jeans and his responding groan pleases you more than it probably should. This. This is yours—his pleasure, his attention, him. They belong to you and you alone. Not his pretty, perky fucking date. 

The sudden possessiveness stuns you for a moment, but it's not enough to stop the feeling from consuming you. This must be how it feels for Joel. It's potent and feels so, so…right. You're starting to think you've felt this way for a while.

"I needed you, and you made me wait so fucking long," you gasp against his lips, and the fingers cradling your face tense. You’re still fisting his shirt, nearly hard enough to tear, and you wrench it up from where it’s tucked into his pants. 

"M'sorry, darlin', I know. I know I did,” he rasps back, following your lead and dropping his hands from your cheeks so he can unbuckle his jeans. “M'gonna make it up to ya. Tell me what you want, I’ll give it to ya.”

You want everything. Everything he has to give, you want it all. After everything you've been through, the hurt he caused you, you deserve it. And right now, what you want is for him to feel so good, he'll never go on a date with someone who isn't you ever again.

Sharp gravel bites into your bare skin as you drop to your knees in front of him. He's already so hard under all that heavy fabric and looks desperate above you. Just as desperate as you are for him to replace the flavor of Jesse's tequila and lime on your tongue with something saltier and headier, and undeniably Joel.

You hastily unbutton and unzip his jeans, not wasting any more of the precious time you have left together, before tugging them down just enough to free his cock and balls. He looks...fucking mouth-watering—flushed and red and leaking, and so goddamn thick. You wrap your hand around him and he sighs gratefully, dribbling precum onto your fingers.

"This is what I want," you finally reply, keeping your eyes locked on his as you lean forward to lick a broad line up his cock. He hisses in a breath through his teeth, his thighs already beginning to tremble, and you brace your hand on one. "But you're gonna be quiet, okay? I'm gonna suck your cock and you're not gonna make a single sound."

His expression darkens, but he agrees to your terms, nonetheless.

"Sure, darlin'. Whatever you say," he nods, gazing down at you with furrowed brows. He cradles your face in his hand and brushes his thumb along your cheekbone.

The affectionate gesture isn't lost on you, but this time you accept it. Instinctively leaning into his touch, you revel in it for a brief moment before his cock pulsing a frantic rhythm against your palm becomes an unignorable distraction. But a welcome one.

"That's my boy," you mumble against the tip. Just as a pained noise escapes his parted lips, you swallow him down as far as you can take him, purposely gagging yourself on him before you can dwell on the words that accidentally just tumbled out.

Your boy. Your boy. It echoes in your mind, ricocheting wildly and painfully like a bullet. Before you can take it back, maybe even to keep you from taking it back, he buries his fingers in your hair and holds you in place. You choke around him, trying your best to breathe through your nose, but in doing so, you take in a lungful of the heady musk at his base.

The familiarity of it all sends you reeling. He only gives you a second to adjust before he's fucking into your mouth and biting back a litany of needy sounds that rival your own wet, audible gagging. Your grip on his thigh tightens as your throat relaxes, allowing you to take him deeper, and you can feel yourself clenching around nothing every time he grazes the back of your throat. 

Tears stream down your cheeks and he wipes them away with a much too tender swipe of his thumb, even as he continues to force you up and down his cock. But you're too lost in your pleasure to notice anymore. So fucking good, you feel so, so good. But you need more, and you're not willing to pull off of him just yet.

Tugging down the front of your shirt, you roll a sensitive nipple between your fingers, and, god, that helps. You imagine they're Joel's and it amplifies the sensation, though your fingertips are still too smooth and delicate. Then, they're replaced by exactly what you've been yearning for all night. 

“You don’t even know how beautiful y'look like this,” he grits out, his fingers running through your hair with one hand and roughly cupping your breast with the other. His hips stutter, and you moan around him. “Fuckin’ perfect. How are ya so fuckin’ perfect?”

Beautiful. More beautiful than her? Well, you must be, because you’re the one here on your knees, choking on his cock, and she’s still sitting in the bar wondering if her date will ever come back. 

He won’t.

You preen without meaning to, your eyes blearily finding his while you drool around him, dripping saliva down his balls and onto your bare breasts. It's as if the visual alone has him thrusting into your mouth faster, pushing your limits only as much as he knows you can take. You must look like a wet dream right now, his wet dream, with your watery eyes and swollen, split-slick lips wrapped tightly around him.

Yet, he's remained so, so quiet this entire time, just like you told him to. Joel likes his sex loud, regardless of where you are and who might hear, so if he’s following your rules, that means something. 

It means he'll do whatever it takes to have you. The realization crashes over you like a bucket of ice water, and then you're pulling off of him. 

“You’ll give me anything, right? Anything I want?” your voice cracks around the question, wrecked from the effort of taking him. His hips chase your hand as you continue to pump him, matching his previous, unforgiving pace. 

“That ain’t a question, y’know I will,” he replies breathily and without hesitation. 

You gaze up at him, praying your eyes convey all of the need and anguish and hope you've felt since the last time you slept together. Since the last time you were his.

“Fuck me," and you won't accept anything less than his all. Not that half-assed shit he would've given her. "Fuck me."

He understands. His heart rate kicks up, thrumming wildly against the palm of your hand, and you know he does.

The growl that rumbles through his chest is nearly soundless but powerful. An entire night's worth of tension culminating in a single exhaled breath, just before he drags you up and spins you around, bending you over against the wall. 

Bracing yourself on the harsh brick, you rush to give him better access, arching your back as he tugs your pants and underwear down to your knees. A callused hand runs upward, following the notches of your spine, while his other spreads across your waist, pulling your hips back onto his so you can feel him, heavy and leaking against your bare ass.

God, he’s so close to where you need him now. His knuckles graze your skin as he grips the base, pumping himself before the blunt head of his cock nudges your entrance.

But then, for some godforsaken reason, you feel a wave of panic. Time suddenly feels like it's running out, worsening with every subtle movement he makes. The ticking clock of your and Joel's relationship, perpetually stuck at two minutes to midnight, has sprung to life and that terrifies you.

You don't want him to stop—fuck, you don't want him to stop, but you know neither of you will last long once he's inside you. The build-up was too intense and this entire night has you both wound up so tight, you could snap at any moment. 

You need to savor this. The way you failed to on your couch all those weeks ago, and might not get to ever again.

“Slow,” you tell him over your shoulder, and it's equal parts a command and a plea. If this is the last time, then you want to feel it. Every thick inch of him, while he still belongs to you. “Just…go slow.”

He nods, shifting forward almost imperceptibly so he can watch your lashes flutter as you brace for the stretch.

"Don't need’ta tell me. I know how ya like it," he replies gruffly.

He does. For now, you won’t overthink it or let yourself get lost in the nostalgia of his cock nestled inside you. You’ll just enjoy it. Sex with Joel has always been mind-blowing, and here, in a dirty alleyway, pressed up against the exterior of a bar, you bet it’ll be life-changing.

It stings like it always does when he breaches your entrance, no matter how wet you are for him. Together, you hiss in a sharp breath, mutually adjusting to the overwhelming stretch that quickly ebbs into something addictive.

"Tight as all goddamn hell," he mutters to himself, rocking into you languidly. He takes his time, relishing your walls enveloping him, mesmerized by the way you suck him in until he's buried to the hilt. 

"Would'ja look at that," he continues in awe, tracing where his cock is forcing you to yield to him. "Greedy fuckin' pussy, ain't she? M'not goin' anywhere, don't'chu worry. Gonna take care of ya...make ya feel so fuckin' good..."

He's starting to babble. Not good. Not good at all. 

Broad hands grip your ass, pulling your cheeks apart so he can see how tightly you’re gripping him, and it's too much. His hips buck, startling a pained whine out of you as he rams into that spot. The one deep inside you he can only reach when he’s fucking you from behind. Your cunt clenches, fighting to keep him there, and he growls low in his throat, hungry and territorial like a wild animal.

"There it is," he nudges it again, purposefully this time. You barely manage to bite back a sob as you gush messily around him. "Christ, honey, y'sure ya still want it slow? 'Cus it sure don't sound like it."

He's patronizing you. He knows exactly what he's doing—that's his spot. He also knows it makes you loud as fuck. But he wouldn’t. There’s no way he’d go back on his word, not after he promised he’d be discreet.

"Joel. Don't," you warn him shakily, but you're already too far gone to be intimidating. 

He pulls out until just the tip is still inside you, huffing out a distinctly calculated breath.

"Don't what? Don't make ya cum nice and loud on my cock? 'Fraid I can't do that, darlin'."

That's all the warning you get before he slams in hard. Your jaw drops, and you're positive you couldn't have stopped the wail punched out of your chest even if you'd tried.

Wrong. You’re wrong again, and you should’ve known better. It’s not the first time he’s gone back on his word, remember? Joel’s shitty lack of communication is why you’re here in the first place. Sure, he agreed to be quiet, but he never said anything about you.

He establishes a brutal pace that has you scrabbling against the wall for purchase and slapping a hand over your mouth in a futile attempt to muffle the desperate cries being forced from your body.

Please, don’t be outside. Please, please, Jesse. Don’t still be outside. 

But your luck's officially run out. 

Heavy mahogany crashes into solid brick, echoing down the alleyway, and a raucous group of people spills out onto the street, barely 30 feet from where your ass and tits are out for anyone to see. Then, the deep baritone of Jesse's voice cuts through the rest, and your blood immediately turns to ice. 

You're fucked. You're about to get caught and expose your secret to the entire town, except...Joel isn't stopping. Fuck, he's—

Yanking your entire body up and ripping your hand away from your mouth, rutting into you like he was just waiting for an audience. He snakes a hand up your stomach to palm at your chest, squeezing firmly to anchor himself as he fucks up into you with all the force he can muster.

And it turns you on so much, you finally stop caring. Fuck it. Fuck this town. Fuck everyone in that bar who made you feel like a goddamn pariah for months, crucifying you for the unforgivable sin of getting your heart broken. 

You hope his date's standing out there, too, so she can hear everything she'll never get to have. So they can all see that Joel Miller isn't the crushed, cruelly dumped old man they all thought he was.

Your moans ring out, loud and high-pitched, all but drowning out the messy slap of his hips into the drenched curve of your ass.

"That's it, darlin', let it all out," he chuckles darkly against the shell of your ear. Your next moan tapers into a drawn-out keen that he mimics, his thrusts getting shallow and sloppy. "S'for me, right? Let 'em know you're makin' all those pretty noises just for me."

Christ, you're close. And he's as close as you are, you can feel it. You turn your head, nodding jerkily into his shoulder.

"S'for you, Joel—mmph, just for you. Only for you," your words slur as he continues to bounce you on his cock. 

"Tell 'em you're mine, darlin’. Not just here," he pants raggedly, desperation coating his words. "Everywhere. You're mine everywhere."

The voices are getting closer, about to pass the mouth of the alley, and the ice in your veins quickly thaws, turning to molten lava. They'll definitely be able to able to hear you, but can they see you? For the umpteenth time tonight, you decide you really don't give a shit. You've got none left. You and Joel, that's all that matters now. 

His hand drops between your legs, thick fingers swirling tight, slick circles into your clit while he waits for you to confirm what he already knows. You've said it again and again—weeks ago, wrapped up in his arms, and earlier tonight, after the worst argument you've had since the breakup. 

And you’ll tell him again in this alley as you cum blindingly hard around his cock. Third time's the charm.

"Y-yours, Joel. I'm always yours."

His hips completely lose their rhythm, and he barely has time to breathe out his contentment before the violent convulsing of your cunt and contrasting serenity of your words send him hurtling over the edge.

"That's my girl."

He crashes his lips into yours, swallowing every noise you make as the group finally comes into view. Their drunken chattering and roughhousing aren't enough to draw your attention away from each other, but the depraved sounds of Joel continuing to fuck you through your release captures theirs almost immediately.

A few of them stop to squint into the darkness, trying their best to pinpoint what everyone already knows is happening further down the alley. As they inch closer, they can just barely make out two connected figures, and the wind carrying muffled gasps and labored breathing with it into the street all but confirms it.

"Y'all seein' this?" they whisper amongst themselves, but in the inebriated state they're in, they might as well be yelling.

And that's what pulls you and Joel back to reality. Shit. Shit. So, this is it, then. You tense in Joel's arms, waiting to get called out as the slutty girl who seduced her ex away from his date. Hell, they're not even wrong. You can feel his cum dribbling out of you, and can't help but think maybe you'd deserve it.

From where you're standing, you recognize each and every one of their faces under the string lights, and you know damn well that none of them can keep their mouths shut. Except...wait a second. They're still glancing back and forth between you and Joel in the shadows and each other. 

Oh. The fucking shadows. None of them can see shit. They have no clue who the hell they're looking at. Joel must've caught on around the same time you did, because now he's backing up, putting more distance between you and the looming crowd. Before they can get any closer, one of the younger guys cuts in front to block their path.

“C’mon, it's probably a couple’a teenagers. Just let ‘em be," he drawls, glancing back at you. Your eyes lock, and you're suddenly so grateful, you could cry. It's Jesse. He shoots you a wink before turning back to the group, shaking his head in mock admonishment. "Don't act like y'all weren't doin' the same damn thing at their age."

By some miracle, it fucking works. They all laugh in agreement, appeased by Jesse's quick thinking. One by one, they follow each other out of the alley and back onto the road to continue their original path home. Jesse lingers. 

"Glad y'all figured things out," he calls out over his shoulder, giving you privacy to tug your shirt back up. He clears his throat awkwardly before continuing, "Look, I, uh...distracted as many people as I could from comin' over here, but if y'all were gonna be that loud, maybe you should'a figured things out at home."

Jesse shakes his head again, chuckling to himself as he shoves his hands into his pockets.

"Anyway, y'all have a good night, now. Get home safe."

As he jogs away to catch up with the rest of the group, you start to laugh, too. You can’t help it. It feels cathartic, relieving some of the tension of this overly eventful night.

Joel’s body begins to shake behind you, his chest rumbling with what you realize is deep-bellied laughter. It gradually increases in volume as it melds seamlessly with yours; transitory, white clouds of condensation that intertwine, then dissipate.

You feel him slip out as he starts to soften, and then he turns you to face him, carefully crowding you into the wall. He kisses you again, this time slow and deliberate like you asked him to earlier. His tongue meets yours, gasps exchanged and treasured like you have all the time in the world. 

When he parts from you, it feels reluctant, but he stays close, whispering his next words against your lips.

“M’gonna get ya cleaned up, alright?” he mumbles, dropping his arm from around your waist to run his fingers up the cum leaking down your thighs. You shiver as they continue up, slipping his release back inside you. “Don’t…,” he continues, squeezing his eyes shut as his forehead drops to yours, “…just—don’t go anywhere. Please. I’ll be right back.”

Maybe he’s trying to protect himself from the response he anticipates you’ll give him, but that seems silly after everything you’ve been through tonight. You cup his cheek and thumb the coarse, trimmed hairs of his beard, willing him to open his eyes. He does, hesitantly, one then the other, and you offer him a soft smile.

“I’m not going anywhere, Joel.”

An intoxicating breath fans across your face, and the taut muscles in his neck and shoulders loosen. His lips match the soft quirk of your own and, then, brush fleetingly against your cheekbone as he backs away and disappears through a metal side door you didn't notice before. The moment it clicks shut, you slump against the wall. 

Christ. Your mind is simultaneously blank and racing a mile a minute. Taking a deep breath, you let your head thunk into solid, grounding brick while you wait for even a single coherent thought to take root. What now? What happens next? 

There's no coming back from tonight. You both made choices you'll have to answer for, but, for some reason, that doesn't seem so scary anymore. The clock is ticking, but there's time. Plenty of it.

You're still lost in your reverie when Joel gets back with a thick wad of damp paper towels. You snort at the idea of him suddenly appearing in Seth's kitchen and having to explain himself, but maybe the racket you kicked up right outside his door was explanation enough.

"Seth didn't give you any shit for stealing his stuff?" you ask as Joel drops to his knees and coaxes one of your legs over his shoulder.

The cold air has already started to leach the warmth from the paper towels, and they feel cool as he slides them along your soiled skin. He huffs out a laugh.

"Nah, the kitchen was empty. Think they're startin' to close up for the night." 

When he finishes your first thigh, he surprises you by leaning in to press a soft kiss against your freshly cleaned skin. He nips at you teasingly before starting on the next one.

You hum in response, threading your fingers through his hair and watching fondly as he pays careful attention to his task. He continues to wipe away his drying release, trailing his lips down your thigh as he goes, until he finishes at your knee.

He gazes up at you with a charmingly crooked grin, and that’s when it finally slips out. The single coherent thought you’ve been waiting for.

“I love you, Joel,” you murmur, brushing your fingertips across his cheek. 

His smile falters. Then, it drops completely and your heart shatters. You don’t understand. But that—no. No, it doesn’t make any fucking sense. After everything that’s happened, how could you have been wrong again?

Joel sighs, grimacing as he slowly gets back up. He braces himself on one knee, clearly aching more than he's letting on, but when you reach down to offer him a hand, he refuses your help.

“S’fine, I got it. Just…,” he gestures to your jeans, still hanging loosely around your knees. You pull them up, fighting not to feel humiliated as he rises to his full height. 

You search his eyes for…something. Anything. Any indication of what he’s feeling right now, but they’re blank. Cold and distant, just like they were the night he left you. 

No. He doesn’t get to do this to you again. Not after everything you’ve been through. Not without an explanation. Not if he doesn’t want to lose you forever.

“Tell me why you broke up with me."

For a long time, you genuinely believed you could live without knowing the truth, but somewhere along the line, it began to eat away at you. Now, you want the real reason. He owes you that, at the very least.

You wait while he either works himself up to it or tries to figure out what bullshit to tell you this time. Once his hands settle on his hips, you know with absolute certainty it's the latter.

“Darlin’…,” he starts wearily, but you shoot him a look that stops him in his tracks. He doesn't get to call you that right now, and he knows it. Pausing, he nods grimly before beginning again. "We already talked about this. I’m no good for ya. It was only a matter of time before ya woke up one day and realized it for yourself.”

There it is. That same bullshit reason. You scoff bitterly, not surprised in the slightest.

“What the fuck does that even mean, Joel? We were together for years. If that was gonna happen, don’t you think it would’ve already?" you counter angrily. 

You're trying not to get emotional. This can't be a repeat of what happened last time, but it's dragging up too many painful memories. It's always the same fight. You can't do this anymore.

"You know what? Fuck you," you seethe as your self-control slips completely. "Fuck you for making that decision for me. You had no right."

At your words, his face crumples and he has the nerve to look ashamed. Maybe even a little hurt. His pained expression makes your heart ache, yet a nastier part of you believes it's only fair that he feels this way, too. He sighs, his eyes dropping wistfully to his feet.

“I did what I thought was best," he mumbles quietly as if he doesn't want to be heard. It's hard for him to say this out loud, and you realize it's because he's finally telling you the truth. "I just…I thought you’d be happier with someone else, someone who could give ya a family. Kids. I gave you up so you could have the life ya always wanted."

You eye him incredulously. The life you always wanted? Sure, you and Joel had toyed with the idea of having a family once upon a time, but that was never a dealbreaker. He should've known that. He should've brought it up before deciding to destroy your life together over an idealized fantasy.

“Oh, here we go. Joel, the fucking savior. Mr. Fix-It, swooping in to save everyone and solve every problem," you hurl back venomously. But it was a cruel thing to say, and you immediately hate yourself for it.

Rationally, you know his intentions were kind. He probably even thought he was being selfless. But he hurt you, and, through your tunnel vision, that's all you can see. You push yourself off the wall, stalking closer to where he stands, still refusing to look at you.

"So what, you thought you’d dump me and I’d immediately shack up with some other asshole? Is that really what you think of me?”

His eyes shoot up to yours and his fingers begin to tap restlessly at his sides. Now, you've pissed him off. 

“Don't go puttin’ words in my mouth. That ain’t true and you fuckin’ know it," he all but growls, his body shaking with a turbulent combination of frustration and adrenaline.

You're starting to feel it, too. This conversation is overwhelming both of you, but he still hasn't told you everything. There's a piece missing, keeping all of his disjointed reasonings from adding up. He's holding back and it's time for him to stop.

“Then what is, Joel?" you plead with him to give you a definitive answer. One that finally explains why you had to lose everything. Ellie, your home. The love of your life. "What’s the truth?"

Then, everything he's kept bottled up inside and allowed to poison his happiness claws its way out as a single, unwavering statement. 

“I’m too fuckin’ old for you!”

The silence that follows his admission is deafening. You watch in shock as he runs a hand through his hair in frustration. He's never yelled like that before or looked so defeated. By something as innocuous as his age. 

It isn't something you'd ever considered, not before your relationship and never once during. But he did. His bottom lip starts to tremble as he turns and takes a few steps away from you.

“Every day, I’d watch ya…offerin’ to take more shifts, spendin’ time at the school with Ellie and the kids," he says softly, shaking his head as he works through his next words. "And every day, I’d feel it. My body givin’ out on me, more and more. My blood pressure’s up, my goddamn knees are creakin’. Couldn’t even fuckin’ stand up on my own just now." 

When he turns back to you, his eyes are wet with unshed tears. He feels too far, but you know you can't go to him, yet. He's not finished.

"You can do better than that. You deserve better than that," his voice cracks and your whole world blurs into a wash of colors. “You’re gonna outlive me by a mile. I’m an old man, darlin’. It wasn’t fair for me to keep ya.”

For a while, you just watch each other. Tears overflow and continuously spill down his cheeks and yours, but neither of you moves to wipe them away. 

None of this is fair. You're both miserable and heartbroken, perpetually yearning for a love you've told yourselves you can't have. Months ago, Joel made a choice for both of you. You won't make the same mistake he did.

"I didn't want fair, Joel. I wanted you. A life with you...," your face screws up as you fight back a sob, "...the rest of my life with you, however long that is."

Joel takes a tentative step forward, carefully reaching out to touch you, but stops himself before he can get too close. He looks afraid...of you. Scared of the consequences of allowing you back into his heart. 

A sob escapes your chest, then, and you wrap your arms around yourself, suddenly bitterly cold and wanting nothing more than for Joel to hold you. To tell you for the first time since the breakup that he loves you and, regardless of time, won't ever stop.

So, you cross the alleyway and cup his wet cheeks in your hands, wiping away his sadness and, hopefully, his fears. He melts into the poignant familiarity of your touch and it makes you brave. This time, you'll be brave enough for both of you.

"Don't I deserve that?" you whisper, close enough to share his next breath. He watches your lips, hanging onto your every word. "Don't you?" 

His eyes meet yours, and it finally happens. The moment Joel gives in and decides to let himself be happy. He nods slowly in your grasp, reaching up to cradle your hand on his cheek. 

"Dunno what I deserve, darlin'. Not after the things I've done and the hurt I put ya through. But if I'm...if this is really what ya want...," he hesitates, his voice thick with tears and, yet, still that full-bodied, twang that sounds like home. "I'm yours. 'Til my last breath, I'm yours."

He kisses you before either of you can start crying again, and it's all there. The love he kept under lock and key to protect you, released from the prison of his own making.

His kiss feels different again. There's no hunger or rush, and the possessiveness—the need to devour everything you have to give so there's nothing left for anyone else—is gone. He's sure, now, that there's no one else you'd rather give yourself to.

His arms circle your waist and he pulls you closer, crushing you into time-worn chambray and sullied denim as you continue to explore each other like a pair of horny teenagers. Two lovers learning to give and take for the first time. Time passes slowly in this space you've carved out for yourselves, even as the moon continues to rise in the night sky and floods the corridor with light. 

Then, noisily and as if right on cue, the last-call crowd stumbles from the bar and immediately catches what the previous group missed. You and Joel separate, dazed but unhurried, to find that it's them. 

It has to be fucking kismet that, of everyone in Jackson, the first to witness your reconciliation would be the biggest blabbermouths in the entire town. The same women who talked shit about you every day for months and constantly vied for Joel's attention, standing there with wide eyes and slack jaws.

Their varied expressions almost make you want to laugh, and you can't help but snort unattractively into Joel's shoulder. Half of them are glaring at you, and the rest look either devastated or genuinely surprised. Guess you were better at hiding your arrangement than you thought, not that it matters anymore. It's a relationship again, and everyone's about to know all about it. Joel clears his throat, drawing their attention back to him.

"Evenin', ladies. S'there somethin' we can help ya with?" he drawls, breaking out the Southern charm that endeared every single one of them to him in the first place.

They all shake their heads, looking a little too pleased with themselves once the initial shock wears off and they realize you've just given them the gossip of the century. After a few fake, high-pitched pleasantries, they slink away as quickly as they came, already chatting to themselves about some shit you'll definitely hear tomorrow at breakfast. You watch them go, feeling oddly liberated.

"Guess the cat's outta the bag, huh?" You wrap your arms loosely around his neck, still chuckling softly to yourself. Joel huffs out a laugh, too, bending down to kiss the crown of your head before nodding in agreement.

"'Fraid so," he muses, amusement and a hint of something lighter glinting in his eyes. 

You haven't seen him this relaxed in a long time. As he holds you in his arms, he leans a fraction of his weight on you to ease the night's strain on his back and knees, and it makes you feel needed. Relied on. That's new, Joel depending on you like this. Things are going to be different this time around, you can tell. They already are. 

You hum, ruminating on what awaits you after your first night back in your own bed, in your own home. What everyone will think and say—to your face and behind your back—when they find out you're back together. Though, the only opinions you give a shit about are Ellie, Tommy, and Maria's, anyway.

So, yeah, you're a lot of things right now: exhausted, yet relieved and so full of hope. But you're not afraid, the cat and the bag be damned.

"I'm not," you tell him honestly as you pull away. You let your hands trail from his shoulders, down his arms, until his hands are in yours. 

Tugging gently, you walk him backward out of the alley, away from the bar and plummeting winter chill, and any lingering, prying eyes. Even the moon and stars have no stake in what comes next. This moment, right here and now, belongs to you and Joel, alone.

"Take me home, Joel."

The light in his eyes burns brighter, amusement giving way to adoration and contentment. He's been waiting for this, to be given the privilege of keeping you safe and taking care of you the way he needs to—it's how he shows love. 

He slots his fingers between yours and leads you down the empty streets of Jackson. 

"Darlin', nothin' would make me happier."

thanks for reading!

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller smut #joel miller angst #the last of us fanfiction #tlou fanfiction #pedro pascal characters

[doobea]

✰⋆⁺★ GOOGLE IT ─ CHOSO KAMO

synopsis: choso finally goes on a date with you but he's an absolute nervous wreck.

contents: choso being silly and inexperienced, gn!reader, somehow he thinks his brothers get more partners, half!brother sukuna makes an appearance, sfw/very fluffy, things to do and not to do on date, no curse AU word count: 2.4K a/n: of course i gotta release a choso fic before any of my milestones duh

"Uh, Choso? What are you doing?" Yuuji's voice calls from behind and it startles Choso, quite badly.

Choso's hands fly up in a messy attempt to cover his laptop screen, only to realize that he could've shut it instead. So he does that, loud and with too much force than originally intended, causing the cup of tea next to him to rattle and spill.

The liquid drips down to his newly purchased dress pants for the very topic he was just looking at, but he ignores it and tries to pretend that it didn't burn his skin and that he isn't mildly disappointed that he might've ruined an expensive pair.

"Nothing," Choso tries to level out his voice but his face always betrays him.

The moment Yuuji eyes his outfit, then darting to the number of colognes sprawled across his desk, and down to the neatly tucked dress shoes underneath his seat, Choso begins to falter.

"Nothing, huh," Choso doesn't stop Yuuji when he pushes his chair aside and opens his laptop. A stifle laugh and then a rather loud 'aww' emits from his brother and Choso feels like his life has flashed before his eyes. "Could've sworn you were reading an article that was like," and he, unfortunately, reads the title out loud. "85 First Date Ideas You’ll Actually Find Fun."

He snatches the laptop away from his brother before he could start listing all 85 and, this time, clenches it to his sides. Almost too embarrassed to admit, Choso mumbles out, "It's for research..."

"He's got a date tomorrow," Sukuna pipes in lazily from the bedroom entrance, frame leading against the doorway. "Saw him looking at WikiHow for kissing tips the other—"

"Sukuna," Choso slides further down in his seat. "You said you wouldn't bring it up."

The older male looks up briefly from his phone and scoffs. "Yeah, I said I wasn't gonna talk about it with you. I'm talking to Yuuji right now."

Choso should've known better to expect Sukuna of all people to keep a promise.

He rubs the bridge of his nose in exasperation and sighs heavily. "Okay, yeah, I have a date and I don't know what to do." Choso confesses.

The fact that it's actually happening is a miracle to him. Just last week, he'd finally gathered the courage and asked you out after dancing around the topic for months. And when you agreed, he felt like doing a somersault, but maybe that would've been too much. He's going on a date with you. You and him. Dating? Yeah, dating.

As much as he's excited for it, Choso can't help but to feel anxious and jittery because, well, he's never been on a date. Hence, if anyone would to compare his search history to that of a teenage boy, no one would be able tell the difference.

The number one date idea that's listed on that ridiculous article is rock climbing. Freaking rock climbing on a first date? Is that what people do nowadays?

Another 'aww' comes from Yuuji. "You guys do look cute together!" He gushes. "Have you decided where you're going to take them?"

Choso sighs again and places his laptop back on the desk, and away from the spilled tea, he's still gotta worry about his outfit situation later. "I haven't."

Yuuji throws out a long 'dude' while Sukuna laughs at his dismay.

"I know, I know," Choso opens his laptop again and stares at the many tabs he has opened.

So much research and yet he's feeling nothing but overwhelmed and underprepared. What if you actually find him creepy and weird? Did you only agree because you felt pity for him? Ugh, the last thing he would want is to make you feel uncomfortable.

"Hey," Sukuna appears by his side and throws a firm hand on his shoulder. "Stop bitchin' around and let me help."

"Help?" Yuuji takes the words out of Choso's mouth as they both stared at Sukuna with wide eyes. Normally, 'help' isn't in his vocabulary, at least when it comes to him offering it.

Sukuna cocks a brow. "Don't want it? Fine. Don't come crawling to me when it doesn't work out."

Choso weighs his options. He'll either spend the rest of his afternoon reading up dozens of lamely curated articles written by self proclaimed 'internet love doctors' or he could listen to his older half brother that has quite the reputation of breaking people's hearts. The answer is obvious, but maybe Choso could actually hear out some real life advice rather than listening to random strangers online.

He groans inwardly and accepts Sukuna's offer.

In the end, Choso ends up taking you to an amusement park. While rock climbing would've been 'too' active for a first date, Sukuna proposed an amusement park because it'll offer tons of ride options, the environment will keep everyone busy so there wouldn't be a lull moment, and it'll be great for, um, physical intimacy. Whatever he meant by that. Choso was too afraid to ask for clarification.

"You guys can be like the shitty Disney couples waiting in line," Sukuna commented.

"Yeah, yeah," Yuuji agreed. "You can say 'I'll never leave you, my love. It's us against the world.'"

Is that what they take him as? Choso doesn't know if that was meant to be a compliment or an insult. But, the fact that both of them were nodding at him approvingly before he left, he can only assume they have faith and confidence ... so that's something?

He arrives at the meeting spot maybe thirty minutes early and was about to text you when he sees you there already waiting, sitting on one of the benches and watching something on your phone. Oh no.

"Oh, hey!" You call out to him when you peer up.

"Hey," Choso lamely waves as he walks over. "How long have you been waiting? Did... Did I get the time wrong?"

"What? No, no!" You shake your head, aggressively. "I just... wanted to come a bit early, too. Don't sweat it, I literally got here five minutes ago!"

"Okay..." Still, he can’t help but feel a little guilty. And here he was trying to make a good impression by showing up early.

"Let’s go?" You smile at him and god, did that always take his breath away.

He texts the family group chat as soon as you both board the bus.

[Yuuji's Favorite Brother] I feel like my heart is about to burst.

[SUCKuna] Lol.

[YUU YUU] You got this!! 💪🏻💪🏻

"What 'cha looking at over there?" Your voice rings into his ear and he almost jumps out of his seat, nearly dropping the phone. "Woah, careful."

"Just checking the weather," Choso immediately regrets his answer and cringes.

You don't push the subject further and instead refocus your attention when the park comes into view. "Looks like they added new rides, Cho. Where do you wanna head first?"

"Actually, I was thinking maybe the food court? You haven't eaten yet, right?"

You laugh. "If I barf later then it's not my fault."

"Haha, yeah." His phone buzzes with a notification. A message from Sukuna this time.

[SUCKuna] Dead yet?

[Yuuji's Favorite Brother] Surprisingly alive.

[SUCKuna] 👍🏻

It takes a while to get to the food court, and Choso believes that the crowd has grown bigger as the two of you started to bump into one another frequently. He considers taking your hand into his but hesitates. Is that too much to ask? Do you mind? And suddenly, he forgets everything that he's read in the last week.

Choso decides to text Sukuna for his thoughts.

[Yuuji's Favorite Brother] When should I hold their hand? Is there a waiting period? Should I ask?

[SUCKuna] Just do it.

[Yuuji's Favorite Brother] Are you sure???

[SUCKuna] Lmao yeah.

Well, that's not helpful at all.

Choso eventually chickens out and walks behind you, making sure that no one bumps into you, and tries his best to listen while you list down all the rides you want to go on, the scamming logistics of cursed carnival games, and the insane prices for fair food. Most of your ranting flies out of his ear because he can't stop thinking about holding your hands. The only piece of information he remembers hearing is something about the prices of food here are the same as the ones in a movie theater.

Still, that didn't stop you from grabbing yourself a corn dog, some french fries, and a lemonade. You two manage to find an open table outside right by the ferris wheel.

"Okay, I take it back," You say after biting into your food. "These are pretty good."

[Yuuji's Favorite Brother] How hard is it to make corndogs?

[SUCKuna] Do I fucking look like a Google search engine?

[Yuuji's Favorite Brother] Sorry.

"Still checking the weather?" You pipe up from beside him, and Choso exists out the messaging app before you could see what he was doing.

"Um, yeah, I guess."

"Hm," you hum in thought for a moment before continuing. "Where do you wanna go after this?"

"Anywhere you want," Choso admits.

He hasn't been back to an amusement park in ages. The last time that he was here he vaguely recalls going on a rollercoaster ride with Yuuji, and that was after he downed a whole burger meal. Anyone could've imagined that it ended rather horribly. But Choso didn't care if you were going to throw up on him, though, he's praying that you wouldn't. He just wants you to enjoy the day, enjoy spending time together, and he's fine with you taking the lead.

Your eyes light up as you stare at the ride behind. "Then..."

Choso smiles. "Yeah?"

"Can we go on the ferris wheel?" You finish.

"Anything for you."

Turns out that Sukuna might be a hidden romantic. He wasn't wrong to suggest an amusement park as a first date and Choso can see why both of his brothers would see him as the 'Disney Couple' type. Although the ferris wheel was your idea, he can't help but to think that, if he had the confidence, he would probably be cuddling and sneaking kisses with you right now. Hell, if it weren't for the fact that he's currently suspended 100 feet in the air, he'd probably ask to hold your hands. Maybe.

"You have to put some moves on them," he remembers Sukuna say to him before he left the house.

And exactly how is he supposed to do that? He gets his phone out to text him, to ask for some more advice when—

"Hey, Choso..." Your voice rings by his ears again. You sound unsure. This catches his attention.

"Is there something wrong?" Did he do something wrong? Why do you look upset?

"Are you… having fun?"

"Huh?" The question catches him off guard. Did you think he wasn’t having fun? "Of course I am."

You take a deep breath and begin toying with the hem of your shirt. "It's just... you've been on your phone all evening. I'm sorry if this is boring—that I'm boring—"

"W-What?" Choso panics. "You’re not, I'm—"

He doesn’t notice sending the message to Sukuna, but he does in the end.

[Yuuji's Favorite Brother] Sukuna, how do you kiss someone again?

You excuse yourself before Choso can explain further. You reach to grab your phone, saying something about your parents or friends sending something important. Then Choso watches as your eyes stretch wide like flying saucers.

"Oh."

"W-What happened?" Did he do something again to make you uncomfortable? God, this has to be one of the worst dates you've been on.

"I—um," Choso feels all the color drain from his face when you flip your screen around. He accidentally sent that text to you out of all people. "Uh, last time I checked, my name isn't Sukuna."

Oh god.

This is it. This is how he dies.

"Y-You're not wrong..." How is he going to explain that?

You snort a tiny laugh. "So… you’ve been texting Sukuna this whole time?"

"...Yes?" Choso slumps his shoulders and brings a hand up to cover his burning face. "I-I'm sorry, I was just really nervous and I wanted to make sure that I wasn't messing things up. I really like you and didn't mean to make you feel—"

"Choso." You laugh quietly, and he thanks god because it seems like all of the misery that was on his face earlier had disappeared. "It’s fine, it’s okay!"

"But I—" Choso bites his lip. "I'm sorry again that I made you feel like that. I'm an awful date."

"You’re not." You try reassuring him. Then, a brief pause. "Well, maybe a little bit." You motion with your fingers.

He can't argue with that.

"Um, I guess—" You smile sheepishly at him before placing your hand on top of his, squeezing gently. "I guess you have to make up to me!"

Choso feels a blush creeping up on his cheeks again.

"You’re not the only one who’s nervous, you know. I’ve texting Nobara and Megumi nonstop over the past few days about what I should wear and—god, you don't even know how long I spent in front of the mirror this morning—"

"Me too!" Choso catches himself when he sees you flinch. "I mean—I’ve been… I’ve been reading up on what to do on a date and what not to do on a date and where to go on a date and...? I’m such an idiot." He looks down at both of your hands, which were still linked together. The sun is just about to set, the ferris wheel cart is swaying gently in the wind, and the lights around the park are slowly turning on.

"Don’t apologize." You chuckle softly. "I'm just glad to know I wasn’t boring you."

"You weren’t! I—I really enjoyed today." He really did, despite feeling like his body was going to combust at any given time. "Please, let me make it up to you."

You smile again, leaning against him. "Sure thing."

"So, uh… you want get out of here?"

"Mhm." You grin and Choso thinks about what he did right to be able to see that smile directed at him. "Oh, and Cho?"

"Yeah?" You're still holding hands by the time the ride comes back down to the ground level. "What is it?"

"I really like you, too."

Choso is pretty sure his body might explode soon, but he'll have to be sure to send Sukuna his thanks before then.

#jjk choso #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen fluff #choso x reader #choso kamo x reader #choso fluff #choso kamo fluff #choso x y/n #jujutsu kaisen x gender neutral reader #choso x you

[just-jordie-things]

clean little secret - itadori yuji

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

#itadori yuji x reader #itadori yuji imagine #yuji x reader #itadori x reader #yuji itadori x reader #yuji itadori imagine #itadori yuuji x reader #yuuji itadori x reader #yuuji itadori imagine

[artyandink]

maine coon

Summary: Dean initially hated your small touches. He used to feel weird with them on his skin. But now he craves them. He craves the high of feeling like a human, and you’re the best hit he’s ever had.

TW: Mentions of borderline dehumanisation (cause we hate John guys for making those two beautiful boys soldiers/mindless machines), two idiots in love, tooth rotting fluff! Thought up this little drabble :)

A/N - Maine coon because they’re a very friendly cat breed! Plus, a little comfort for Dean cause he needs it :) set in s1

Little touches.

It started like that. Just small brushes of your hand on his shoulder and ruffling of Sam’s hair. The younger Winchester would brush you off politely, fix his hair but wear an affectionate smile anyway.

Not Dean.

Dean would grumble, pout angrily, act as if he was wiping off the invisible trail your hands left and claim that he wasn’t a baby. All at first. But slowly, like an ice lolly in the sun, slowly melting, he found himself less inclined to brush you off. He’d get jumpy and irritable if you didn’t show him that affection for too long. He even found his nightmares appearing less frequently after being lulled to sleep with his head in your lap, your fingers in his hair because he couldn’t sleep.

You slept better too, knowing he was ok and he was able to turn to you, even though it was wordless. All it took was a flash of puppy eyes and you knew what he needed. The comfort that he deserved, after working himself to the bone protecting Sammy and you like his father taught him. Like a good soldier.

He didn’t feel like that with you.

Sleep was gently coaxed out of him by the sensation of nails on his scalp, a groan muffled by his face in his pillow as he instantly recognised the cool sensation of the ring on your finger as your hand smoothed down his hair. “Wake up, Dean.” You murmured softly, your thumb tracing his ear, and he almost smiled at the sensation. Almost.

The aroma of coffee hit his lungs, and when your hand ran down to gently press against his shoulders and massaging down to his shoulder blades, he didn’t feel so inclined to sleep further. So he sat up. He wanted to see you, your gorgeous face, with the eyes that told a thousand stories and those lips that were worth a thousand dollars when they were pursed in anger. Which only came out when someone hurt him or Sam.

He didn’t feel like he had a sword and shield in his hand in moments like these. Instead, he had a warm cup of coffee and your hand briefly petting his hair, which he leaned into before it even touched his head. “Mornin’.” He rasped out, voice crackly and hoarse from the morning, smacking his lips to get the morning taste off before taking the first heavenly hit of caffeine. And relishing in the aftershocks of the second euphoric high of your touch. “S’some damn good coffee, darlin’.”

“Black, two spoons o’ sugar, and a dash of beer.” You gave him a small smile as you stood up and moved to the kitchenette of your small motel room, looking beautiful to Dean even in your oversized shirt and sleep shorts, complete with black ankle socks. You had bed head that you were yet to sort out, but Dean was dazzled by the halo he could see over your head.

His mom said angels were watching over him. Maybe this is what she meant.

“Just how you like it.” You added, working to make some breakfast. The smell of cooking eggs and frying bacon filled the space, a small smile on your face as you contently cooked food for the man who was approaching you, coffee cup raising to his lips as his eyes followed you like a lost puppy. The cup clinked as it was set down on the counter, Dean’s tongue darting out to lick his lips before biting the bottom one as he tentatively made his way over to rest his chin on your shoulder from behind, his eyes closing slowly like a cat when your hand reached behind to gently play with his hair.

“Smells nice.” He murmured, almost like a purr as he leaned into your touch.

You chuckled, your fingers rubbing over the silky, spiky strands of his morning hedgehog hair. “That’s ‘cause I’m an amazing cook.”

“I don’t deserve you.” Dean added with a contented groan, wanting so badly to tell you how he felt. So much that it was threatening to burst out of his chest.

“What did I tell you about saying that?” You chastised, piling his plate with a bit extra of everything that he liked before sliding it closer to him. “C’mon, eat.”

“Thanks.” He cupped your cheeks, leaning in.

It was meant to be a simple kiss on the forehead. That’s all it was meant to be. But by some miracle (or maybe his eternal bad luck), his lips pressed against yours. Soft, slow, sweet. He puckered up, eyebrows raising in surprise, his eyelashes fluttering but staying closed before he decided to pull himself away, but it felt like yanking. Tugging. Practically peeling himself off, cause he didn’t want to let go.

His eyes didn’t open for at least a few second. But when he did, he saw yours. Your shining eyes, with a small, amused smile on your lips. Your gorgeous lips, that he just wanted to see swollen with all the kisses and love he could give you.

“What was that for?” Came your voice, quiet and docile as you looked at him in a way that only you could. Only you.

“I don’t know.” He murmured, eyes flicking to your lips again, itching for that high again. That hit. So he let himself taste you again, let himself lose his way in the labyrinth that came with your hand on the side of his neck and his cradling your cheek. The taste of coffee, the different ways you both liked it sweetening your palettes in a beautiful mix of sweet, sour and alcohol. The smell of old leather gracing you while the scent of your lavender body wash flooded him and sent him past cloud nine.

You pulled back slowly, because you also wanted to savour him. But when you saw the look on his face, his slightly swollen lips and the way they were parted in awe, you couldn’t help but melt and thumb his bottom lip.

“I think…” You paused to kiss his cheek softly, whispering against it, “I think I know.”

Make sure to leave feedback, everyone! I’d appreciate reblogs, likes and comments!

TAGLIST: @k-slla

#supernatural #dean winchester #dean winchester fanfiction #spn #dean winchester x reader #dean x reader #dean winchester x you #spn masterlist

[messylustt]

pervy ethan smut pleaseeeee

this slowly started to become longer than i planned. i couldn't stop writing

floral panties — ethan landry + reader ( scream ) : you leave a trap for your pantie stealing fellow student

contents : perv ethan, pantie stealing, use of conditioner as lube, subby ethan, ethan's obsessed, use of 'dirty boy' as like a pet name ig, overstimulation, no actual p in v. wc 2.4k

Ethan didn’t know when it started but he found himself stealing your clothes. More specifically your panties.

You lived in the same dorm building, so every time you left your clothes by the communal washing machines, ethan couldn’t help but pocket some of your different coloured panties. He now had some lacy, some normal, and some with cute patterns.

It was shameful but Ethan grew addicted to wrapping them around his cock as he jerked himself off, muttering your name under his breath. He couldn’t jerk off normally anymore, he always had to have something of yours touching him.

Then one night, when you left the laundry, ethan spotted a left behind conditioner bottle, the one that made your hair smell like cherries. Without thinking he grabbed it, walked to his dorm, locked the door to his room, and began to use your conditioner as lube.

He stroked himself, the cherry scent making his eyes roll. He could imagine you on your knees in front of him. The cherry coming from your hair as you languidly stroked his cock. He orgasmed embarrassingly quickly at the new found fantasy.

Every time he saw you in the hallways of Blackmore, or in the dorm building, your cherry scent made his cheeks pinken.

The surprising thing was that you’d never actually met. You’d briefly acknowledged each other as a passing person, but no long conversations or a blooming friendship.

Ethan just always watched from afar, growing hotter when he’d catch your skirt hiking up in your seat. He remembers a pathetic moment when you had unintentionally been distracting him all class, and for some relief he palmed himself under the table.

You had reduced him to a horny teenager wanting to bust a nut the moment he sees you show a sliver of skin.

What Ethan didn’t realise was that you had noticed your gradually missing panties, and that one bottle of conditioner. You had always felt someones eyes on you whenever you would bend down to retrieve a pen you dropped.

You soon quickly linked up the eyes and stolen items to Ethan Landry. The boy who lived in your dorm building and took random classes with you. At first glance you’d say he appeared shy, at second you’d think he was kinda cute, and at third you’d finally notice the lust swirling in his eyes.

One night, when you were walking towards a washing machine, prepared with a basket, you heard distant steps far but close. You paused, quickly realising that it would be the brown haired boy.

You decided to leave a trap, just to see if he really was the one who brazenly stole your items. You placed your basket full of a mix of shirts, pants, skirts, and panties. You made sure to leave a pair at the top as you pretended to walk to the other exit of the room.

You hide behind a washing machine, watching as Ethan walked in. He didn’t have a basket full of clothes, so there was no need for him to be there, unless he liked to steal.

Ethan spots the new pair of lacy black panties on your pile of clothes. He edges closer, sparing a fleeting glance around before he grabs them, breathing heavy.

He goes to pocket them when he hears your melodious voice. Whipping his head up, his eyes widen as he watches you walk out from your hiding spot a raise to your brows.

“What are you going to do with those?” You ask, as you step closer.

Ethan is frozen, gulping down his want to hide. You’d caught him. He hadn’t thought this far. He’d thought he could get away with it. “Uh.” He stupidly splutters, not knowing what he can say. It was pretty obvious what he was going to do with them.

You edge closer as Ethan watches your every move. He notices the low cut singlet your wearing, and your sweatpants that hang low on your hips. A huge chunk of your stomach is on full display and Ethan’s eyes begin to feel heavy. Through his distracted state he hadn’t realised that you’d moved much closer.

You're inches from his face. He sucks in a breath when he caught your gaze. “Can I have them back?” You quietly ask. Ethan processes your words for a moment then realises that your talking about your panties. His fist had clenched around them. “Ethan?”

He chokes on air at the fact that you knew his name. You grab his wrist, taking the panties out, and throwing them into your basket. Ethan expected your expression to be mad, but he's confused and slightly intruiged at the fact that your just staring at him, your own intruige displayed across your features.

You were still extremely close and Ethan's mind quickly became a haze, becuase your hair smelt extra strong today. "I'm sorry." He manages to mutter out. He quickly looks away, embarassment filling him to the brim. But then you grab his chin, pulling his head back to face you.

He gulps. Feeling your fingers touching his face has added a new level of need that's making his stomach tighten. He can't look away from you, especially as a little smile forms on your lips. "Do you like me or something?" You ask, tilting your head in inspection of him.

"Uh..."

"You can be honest." Your voice is sickly sweet. It makes Ethan subconsiously step closer to you. Your chests are almost touching. Ethan licks his lips before answering in a small voice. "Yes. Yeah— I...do."

Your smile begins to widen. "Why didn't you talk to me?" Your tone is still soft and light, making a strain form in Ethan's pants.

Ethan refrains from grabbing you, lust weighing him heavy. "I don't know."

You leaned closer to whisper. "Because if you asked me out I probably would have said yes."

Ethan's eyes widen as you lean back. "You would?"

"I would have." You corrected. "But since your the thief, I don't know if I'd want to anymore." You were teasing him, because you quickly grew to like the desperate look he's displaying.

Ethan swiftly steps closer, your chests finally touching. Ethan shakes his head. "I'll give them all back. I won't steal again. I promise. I won't—" Ethan is rambling, as his chest heaves. God, he didn't want his one mistake in not having you to be his dirty actions and fantasies.

You chuckle at his almost pleading tone. You place your hand on his chest. "Stealing my panties?" You pretend to look annoyed. "That's extremely dirty."

Ethan is cursing himself for every time he used your panties to jerk off. "I didn't—“ Ethan is breathing hard. "I didn't mean to."

"Yes you did." You say, keeping him at a slight distance, with your hand on his chest. Even your small touches is making his cock throb.

"It was wrong, I just..."

"Just what?" A small smirk had edged your lips.

Ethan stares at your lips, wishing he could taste them. "I just wanted to feel some part of you." His tone his heavy and breathless.

"And you thought my panties would be the closest you could get?" You guess. "What about the conditioner?"

Ethan gulps. "I like how your hair smells." He whispers shamefully.

"My hair?" You begin to "absentmindedly" drag your finger along his chest. Ethan nearly shudders against your touch. It was only over the shirt, he shouldn't be freaking out so much. You began to egde closer, your breath hitting his face.

Ethan is biting his lip, stopping himself from just grabbing some part of you.

You drag your hand down his stomach until you stopped just above his bulge. "You're extremely dirty." You whispered. And Ethan's mouth had begun to open in a pant.

"Look at you. Turned on by...what?" You ask, running your finger down his thigh. "The smell of my hair?" Your nails sent a shiver down his spine. "Or was it the thrill of stealing another pair of my panties?"

You then lightly ghost the tip of your finger over his hard on. Tantilizingly light. Ethan's hips pathetically jolt, wishing you would touch him. Wishing he could touch you. "Is that what's got you hard?"

You meet his gaze. Ethan is breathing heavy, as a small snarl had egded his lips. He was beyond desperate, teased almost to the limit.

You then suddenly step back, making Ethan quickly whip his head to your leaving form. "Nice to properally meet you, Ethan."

He reached his limit. Ethan didn't have control over his body, as he grabbed you, yanking you back to him. Even though you were expecting this you still gasped at how swift the motion was.

Ethan grabbed your jaw, his breath hitting your lips. His hand slid around your waist, pulling you flush against him. He groaned as his cock pressed against your body. He turned you, so that your hips hit against a low washing machine. And he's smashing his lips against yours. He can't help but begin to grind into you as he laps at your tongue, whining into your mouth. "Holy fuck." He whimpers, finally tasting you.

Your mouth is opening, your own arousel, making your press your thighs together.

"No, no." Ethan hisses, grabbing one of your thighs as he sharply pulls them apart. He pressed his bulge against your pussy, making you gasp a moan. His mouth hangs open. "Oh, fuck—"

Ethan kisses you, hard. You were addicting. Not one of his fantasies could prepare him for this—for you. "Ethan—" You choke out as he continues to grind.

"You can't just tease me like that, and think you can leave." Ethan says, darting his tongue out to lick your jaw. "No..." Ethan breaths over your lips, his eyes hooded with lust. "I've wanted to touch you for so long." He moans.

You had begun to grind your own hips into him, the situation feeling extremely erotic. But you wanted some of that control back. You lead your hand down to pants, unbuttoning him and pulling his throbbing cock out. Ethan's hips stutter, his head hitting your shoulder.

You brought his head away, so that he can see you, as you spit straight onto his cock. Ethan jolts, his mouth opening in a whine at the action and visual.

You begin to stroke him, pulling your hand up and down appropriately. Ethan thrusted into your hand, whimpering into your neck. His tongue had darted out to lick your skin as he would occasionally bite when a shock of pleasure would shoot through him. "Oh, fuck— oh, god, y/n—" He whimpers and moans as he soon draws near.

"Such a dirty boy." You whisper into his ear. His hips shudder as he orgasms, his body jutting into you. The pleasure wrecks him, but as it ebbs away you don't slow your strokes.

Y-y/n." Ethan stutters, gripping the washing machine behind you. "I-it hurts, please."

"But Ethan..." you began as he whined, your strokes languidly going up and down. "You stole from me. Multiple times. I can't just reward you for that."

Ethan's mouth has opened against your skin as his fingers dig into the washing machine. "P-please. Oh, god, please—"

"You really want me to stop?" You ask. He just whimpers in response. "Aright." You bring your hand away, and Ethan is quick to grab your wrist.

"No, no, please don't stop. I'll do anything. Just please don't." Ethan begs as he brings your hand back to his cock. His hips jolt when you wrap your palm around him, and begin to stroke him again.

"Anything?" You tease.

"F-fuck— anything. Anything you want." Ethan hovers over your lips, as he draws close to his second orgasm. He kisses you, eating at your tongue and lips as his hips shudder in pleasure, his release spilling. "Shit." He moans in your mouth.

You slowly bring your hand away as you peck his cheek. He's flushed, hands still caging you in. You felt a rush whenever you would tease him, loving his desperate pleas.

"You said you'd do anything." You say. Ethan nods, meeting your gaze. A small smile had edged his lips. You looked so pretty this close.

"Then can you step away?"

Ethan's brows furrow. "Why?"

"You said anything."

Ethan grinds his teeth, but slowly steps back. You straighten your singlet, as you take a breath. You met Ethan's awaiting gaze. He seemed suspicious, beacuse you'd denied him before—trying to go. He didn't want you to, not now. "Don't you dare try and leave." Ethan says.

"Alright, then you can go." You say, licking your bottom lip.

Ethan begins to step closer. You place your hand out as you step away from the washing machine. "I said to step back." You try to sound firm but your tone is heavy with lust.

Ethan tilts his head as he nears you. You continue to back up, wanting to keep the control. But Ethan wasn't letting you get away when he hadn't even touched you yet.

He corners you into the wall making you curse. Ethan held eye contact, as his hand dragged to your thigh, he pulled you apart as his finger began to rub you through your sweatpants. You gulp, grabbing one of his shoulders. "You don't really deserve to touch me. Not after you—"

"After I used your panties to jerk off?" Ethan asked, quickening his pace. "After I used your cherry conditioner as lube?" He dipped his hand into your pants, bypassing your panties to get to your soaking pussy. You slightly shudder as he began to swirl his fingers around. "After I had to palm myself in class because you looked so pretty with your red lipstick and short skirt?"

A moan escaed you at the mix of his words and the work of his fingers. "Huh?" Ethan asks, kissing you slowly.

He pushes two fingers in straight away, making your mouth fall open. "I don't deserve to touch you. But that certainly doesn't I mean I won't." He begans to thrust in and out of you, hitting your g-spot, once he got a good angle.

You manage to grab his hair, making him look at your face. "You're still a perv." You say breathlessly.

Ethan nods, a grin forming. "I know."

Your head hits back as pleasure wracks your body. Ethan groans at the visual, his hands never wanting to leave you. He pulls your head back as he speaks to the skin of your cheek. "Now instead of your panties I can use this to jerk off to." He thrusts higher into you.

You moan, breathing turning erratic. "Oh, fuck." He kisses you hard, before whispering to your lips, grinning. "You smell lovely."

Then he pushes his head into the crook of your neck by your ear, smelling the lovely cherry.

© messylustt.tumblr please don’t steal, copy or translate my work onto other platforms.

#. ( psychos ) #the ethan effect #ethan landry x y/n #jack champion x reader #ethan landry x you #ethan landry #ethan landry x reader #jack champion #ethan landry oneshot #scream #scream 6 #jack champion x y/n #ethan landry smut #jack champion smut #scream 6 smut #scream smut

[rainylana]

Taste on an Image: New neighbor

Eddie Munson x female reader

a little longer than my usually one of these! just a fluffy blurb! no warnings!

“Why don’t you go say hi instead of standing there gawking.” Wayne shook his head, closing the door to the trailer as he gave his nephew a once over.

Eddie jumped, surprised by his uncle’s appearance. “I’m not gawking.” He swallowed. “I’m observing from afar.”

“Well whatever it is you’re doing is probably freaking her out.” Wayne pointed to you outside in the yard, a few trailers down the road as you hung clothes outside on your line.

“She doesn’t even know I’m here.” Eddie rolled his eyes, leaning against the mailbox. “Geez, she sure is pretty, ain’t she?”

“Yeah.” Wayne gave a gruff nod. “Go talk to her. Be neighborly. God knows no one else around here will be.” He patted his nephews shoulder and went inside, leaving the boy alone with his thoughts.

You’d moved in just a few days ago, gaining the attention of Eddie like bees to honey. You were gorgeous, and by the looks of it, single. He readjusted his jacket and slicked back his hair, wiping his mouth with his sleeve to make sure no absent crumbs were festering on his mouth. Last thing he wanted was to embarrass himself.

Eddie walked down the gravel road, waving awkwardly at the neighbors he past that were halfway drunk for the weekend.

“Hello.” He called out to you, standing near your mailbox.

You spun around, smile on your face that nearly made him fall flat on his back, and took a step forward. “Hi!”

God, he was in love already.

“Hi.” He repeated again, lifting up a hand he wasn’t sure what he was doing with. “Hi, I’m Eddie Munson. We’re neighbors. I live just a few trailers down.” He pointed down the road to his house, blushing as he did so.

“Oh, how nice!” You beamed, setting down your laundry. “I’m y/n.” You quickly walked toward him, extending your hand for him to shake. “Nice to meet you. It’s sweet of you to come introduce yourself. No one has yet. I was starting to think I wasn’t wanted.” You laughed, tucking your hands in your pockets.

Your authenticity of casualness made his nerves settle. “Yeah, well, the people are weary of strangers.” He shook his head. “There’s a lot of kids around here, too, so be careful when you leave. I almost run one over every time I pull out of my driveway.” He chuckled, brown eyes crinkling under the sun.

You laughed and he swore it made his heart swell. Two minutes in and he was already whipped.

“Is it just you?” He asked, peaking over your shoulder and back at your home.

“Just me.” You pursed your lips. “I’m from Chicago. I used to work in the news paper office downtown but decided I needed a change of scenery.” You shrugged your shoulders, the wind barely whistling over your words.

“I run the mechanic shop here in town with my uncle.” Eddie pointed over his shoulder down to his home. “I live with him. Have ever since I was a boy.”

“Well I’d love to meet him sometime!” You smiled. “Maybe you can show me around town later this week? If you don’t mind, of course.”

“I’d be honored to escort you.” He smirked, giving you a wink that made you snicker. “Just give me a day. There’s a great diner that I can sweet talk the waitresses in giving us free desert.”

“You seem like you’re good at sweet talking.” You give him a playful look, crossing your arms.

“Well, I don’t like to brag.” He held out his arms, closing his eyes briefly in a smug look.

You tucked your hair behind your ear, looking back to your clothes line that was blowing in the wind. “I’d invite you in for something to drink but I’m afraid I’m not quiet finished unpacking yet.”

“Don’t worry about it.” He held out a ringed hand. “You need any help? Wayne and I would be happy to assist.”

“No, thank you.” You shook your head politely. “I’ll be finished soon. It’s mostly just my clothes and some decorations. I really don’t have that much.”

He could almost feel his uncle’s eyes searing into the back of his head.

“Well, I just wanted to introduce myself.” He stepped back. “Let us know if you need anything. Oh! And remember,” He pointed to your car. “You’ve got a mechanic for a neighbor if you ever need one.”

He left while he was ahead, feeling confident that he hadn’t embarrassed himself. He smiled the whole walk home, fists clenched in a celebratory manor as he practically skipped inside.

“Well?” Wayne asked, leaning against the fridge.

“What do you mean well?” Eddie snorted. “Like you didn’t stare at us the whole time through the window.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” The man hid his smirk behind his mud of coffee.

“She’s nice.” He plopped down on the couch. “She smiles a lot. She’s beautiful. I don’t know, Wayne, this might be the girl of my dreams.” Eddie laughed, shaking his head with pursed lips.

“Uh-huh.” Wayne rolled his eyes. “I wouldn’t start planning a wedding yet, son.”

#taste of an image #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female reader #stranger things #stranger things season four #joseph quinn #eddie munson imagines #eddie munson fluff