#step 1: dont believe in yourself

[lordzuuko]

I will not lie, I didn’t think I could pull off to oneshot the wine cellar jester that has 500 billion health and combos. I’m still in shock fjjdjds

[eelliotss]

— Borrowed time, part 2

‼️Caleb x reader x Sylus. Reader not MC. University AU. Modern AU. Angst angst angst! Maybe some suggestive content.

Everyone knows Caleb is in love with MC. Everyone. Including you. But that does not stop him from flirting with you, teasing you, keeping you close. And it definitely does not stop you from falling for him—even when you know you’re just a stand-in, a place holder.

“As much as he was lost in his fantasy, you were lost in yours.”

word count = 5.3k

The story was getting too long so I had to cut it here. I wasn’t able to get to the part I wanted to write the most 😭 Anyways, thank you so much for the love for part one. I dont know if this will be what people are expecting, but here’s part two!

part 1 | masterlist | part 3

Sunlight nudges your eyelids, casting faint golden lines across the sheets. The distant hums of birds drift through the open window, soft and unintrusive. You nuzzle your head deeper into the pillow, pulling the blanket closer to yourself, chasing the last traces of warmth, the remnants of a fading dream.

Your fingers twitch against the fabric, pressing into the wrinkled sheets where someone else had just been hours ago. The presence of his weight, his warmth, his scent still lingers.

Your eyes flutter open—slow, reluctant—only to be greeted by the same usual scene, an inevitable reality.

An empty bed. A hollow space where his warmth was.

You—alone, on one side of the massive bed with an empty space beside reserved for his embrace. You—alone, pushed to the edge, as if the night had already decided for you where you belonged.

The scenes of last night slowly return.

•

The sharp, electrical beep of your lock rang through your room, quickly followed by a soft twist of the doorknob and the slow creak of the door swinging open. The scent of his faint cologne—that same warm amberwood and spiced vanilla, a scent that brings you so much comfort as much as it guts your insides out—woven with the sharp bite of alcohol slowly filled your space.

He stepped inside.

Uninvited. But he never needed an invitation, did he?

His footsteps were slow, unsteady, the weight of exhaustion—or maybe something deeper—dragging him down. You didn’t have to turn to know he ran a hand through his hair, exhaling, like the world had finally let him breathe.

You’d like to think it was because he found peace in your space.

Your space.

And then, the bed dipped.

Warm fingers brushed against your skin. A touch so light, so fleeting, that you could almost believe it was an accident.

“Yn,” he whispered into your ear. A whisper so low you could’ve missed it as a breath.

“I know you’re still up.”

Your stomach tightened.

It was one of those nights again.

For a second—just a second—you considered keeping still. But he was almost like gravity. You couldn’t get away, no matter how much you want or try to.

You slowly, cautiously, rolled over, your gaze meeting his.

His face was half-lit by the dim glow of the city slipping through the window, his features softened by the kind of exhaustion that sat deeper than just the body.

His eyes searched yours.

For what, you didn’t know. Perhaps you didn’t want to know.

He was close. Close enough that the scent he carried clung to the air between you. Close enough that even in the dark, you could see the way his lashes cast soft shadows over his cheekbones. Close enough to see his shaky breaths.

He always looked at you with those hazy eyes on nights like these. Those violet orbs peered through you, unfocused. It’s a look you learned to despise, one you realized he was looking but not seeing you.

His arm wrapped around your waist, firm and sure. The heat of this body sank into yours, his breath soft.

His fingers ghosted over your skin, tracing slow, deliberate paths up your body. His hand found its place on your chin.

A light tilt—gentle, almost careful.

Your breath hitched.

No matter how many times this happened, no matter how many nights he came to you like this—he never failed to unravel you. Never failed to make you feel like this—like an uncontrollable mess, caught between wanting him and knowing better.

His lips moved against yours, slow, deliberate, consuming. Soft. Too soft. Like a secret, a hesitation, like something that wasn’t meant to happen but was happening anyway.

Your fingers curled into the sheets, grasping for something—anything— to keep you grounded as his warmth enveloped you. His hand slid down, brushing along the line of your jaw and settling at the back of your neck, pulling you closer.

Heat flared through you as he deepened the kiss, his fingers threading through your hair, tugging just enough to make you gasp.

A low, satisfied sound rumbled in his chest as his lips moved down your jaw, trailing lower, lower—

And then he bit down.

A sharp gasp tore from your lips as his teeth pressed into your skin, that same damn place he had always known was your weak spot, not enough to hurt, but enough to brand.

He soothed the bite with the heat of his mouth, tongue gliding over the mark he left behind before pulling you impossibly closer.

He mumbled something incoherent against your skin, his voice low, rough, lost in his own mind and the intoxication of your warmth on him.

No conversations really took place on nights like these.

His fingers dragged down your spine, slow and deliberate, knowing, like he’d done it too many times before.

Like he knew you wouldn’t stop him.

And god—you didn’t want him to.

Not when he kissed you like this, when his hands wandered, claimed, and possessed.

And when he pulled back just slightly—lips barely brushing against yours—

You chased him.

Through the shared night, the shared heat and pleasure, the shared intimacy—you heard him whisper.

“Michaela.”

The first time you heard it, you almost thought you were imagining things.

A trick of the mind. A slip of exhaustion. A moment of overthinking creeping in.

But then you heard him say it again.

And again.

Over and over again.

Between his grunts and breaths, between the quiet murmurs against your skin, between the moments where his body sought yours with something that almost felt like desperation, he said her name.

His eyes were half-lidded, his mind gone, lost in the haze of desperation, exhaustion, and longing.

For MC.

For Michaela Carter.

For her.

It has always been her.

You should push him away. His touch should be revolting on your skin. Her name leaving his lips should bring bile up to your throat. Rage should burn through your veins, violent and unrelenting, until the mere thought of him sickens you. You should want to hold him at gunpoint, press the barrel to his temple, dig it in deeper—watch as those eyes that never truly saw you rip apart under your finger’s pull.

But his lips were on your skin. His hands were on your body. His warmth wrapped around you, consumed you, swallowed you whole.

And God.

As much as he was lost in his fantasy—

You were lost in yours.

•

The weight of last night finally settle in—heavy, but familiar. A burden you’ve carried before, one that no longer surprises you, yet still manages to sink deep into your bones.

However, you can’t help replaying the sound of his voice calling for her, like an echo that won’t fade, a whisper that claws at the edges of your mind. Even in the silence and the absence of his warmth, the ghost of his voice remains—woven into the sheets, imprinted onto your skin, haunting you in ways you wish it wouldn’t.

You decide to roll over, pulling the blanket higher, eyes squeezing shut as if you could will yourself back into sleep—a brief escape from the weight pressing into your chest.

But peace never comes easy.

A series of sharp chimes pierces through the quiet, your phone vibrating restlessly against the nightstand. Each notification a demand, a disruption, a tether dragging you back to reality.

You groan, burying your face into the pillow, fingers curling into the sheets. Maybe if you ignore it, it’ll stop. Maybe if you hold still—

A shrill ring of a call cuts through the air, louder, more persistent than before.

You flinch.

A deep breath. A slow exhale.

With reluctance, you reach for the phone, fingers curling around the device, eyes barely open as you glance at the name flashing across the screen.

MC.

You glide your finger to the green button, slowly bringing the phone up to your ears.

“Yn! What are you doing today?” her voice loud, brimming with energy.

You are slow with your reply, sleep not completely gone from you. “Nothing, really.”

“What about for the rest of the week? Are you going anywhere during the break?”

You hoped to sleep in, rot in your bed and drown in your sleep during the short break. After all, the exams last week took years off your life.

“Not really… I planned to rest a bit.”

“Oh my god thats perfect!” her voice is too excited for your liking. A bad feeling boils up in your stomach.

“Yn… Actually…” she trails.

“Just spit it already. What do you want?” you ask, suspicion creeping into your voice.

“You remember that film project I was invited to join… right?”

“Yeah… Why?”

“Basically… one of the actresses can’t make it, and my friend is going nuts! So… I kind of really need someone to fill in…” she explains.

“No,” you almost snap.

“Please! The role will fit you perfectly! We’ll be shooting at the beach for a few days, so think of it as a vacation!” she begs.

“No.”

“Please!” she cries.

“No-“

“C’mon shortcake!” a voice chimes in. “I’ll be there too. Don’t you want to go on a trip with us?”

Your breath stills.

Of course, he’s there. Of course.

“You? Filming?” you scoff.

“I mean… pipsqueak here wouldn’t let me go if I didn’t agree to this.” His tone is all lazy charm, dripping with something that makes your stomach churn. “You really gonna make me suffer through this without you?”

A snort leaves your lips before you can respond.

Suffer? What a joke.

MC’s voice rushes back in before you can respond. “Yn, please! We’ll be filming for a few days, and then we’ll have the rest of the time to just relax. It’ll be fun, I promise!”

“I already said no—“

“You haven’t even heard the best part,” MC interjects. “Guess who else is coming?”

You roll your eyes, pushing yourself up from the bed. “If you’re about to say some actor or influencer, I really couldn’t care less.”

“No, no.” You can practically hear the grin in her voice. “It’s someone new. He’s real popular. All the girls fawn over him, but he’s really difficult to spot! I don’t even know how my friend managed to make him agree to this!”

“Not interested—“

“PLEASE!” MC cries.

You hesitate.

The thought of spending days watching Caleb and MC be… them, under the golden glow of the sun, their laughter tangling in the waves—

it sounds like hell.

“I’d like to go to the beach with you,” Caleb says flatly.

While it did not carry the same warmth nor the sincerity you hoped, your heart couldn’t help but skip a beat.

Your pause was quickly followed by a sharp exhale. Leaning back against your pillow, you answer: “…Fine. But if this turns out to be a waste of my time, I’m leaving early.”

MC cheers on the other end. “You’re the best! You won’t regret it! I’ll send you all the details.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you sigh, rubbing your temple, already wondering if this is the worst decision you’ve made all month.

Caleb’s voice hums through the speaker one last time, satisfied.

“See you soon, shortcake.”

And the call ends.

You let the phone drop onto your chest, staring at the ceiling.

You savor the stillness of your space, the peace and quiet returning. Maybe this will be the last time you’ll feel peace in a while.

It’s for the beach. For MC. Not for him.

Never for him.

•

“Yn! Wake up, we’re here!” MC’s voice cuts through the haze of sleep, bright and unbothered, like sunlight streaming through a crack in a closed curtain. You groan, shifting in your seat, reluctant to open your eyes.

A soft breeze brushes against your skin, carrying the scent of salt and something sweet. The sound of waves pulses steadily in the background, rhythmic. You blink against the brightness, groggily lifting your head to find the world drenched in gold—shimmery sand stretching for miles, sunlight dancing over the water, voices overlapping in easy laughter.

The air is open—fresh—a welcoming contrast to the suffocation you felt in your ride here with Caleb and MC.

Caleb stretches his arms towards the sky, sighing in content. “God, the ride here was definitely worth it,” he says as he gets up from the driver’s seat. You are basically dragged out from the backseat by MC, tugging you towards the group of people outside. The ground is warm beneath your feet, the world spins just slightly as you take it all in.

“Come on! Everyone’s waiting!” she beams.

You let yourself be dragged toward the cluster of people—the cast and the crew, the ones who will fill the next few days with scripted lines and fleeting connections.

“Everyone, this is Yn, the stand-in. Be nice to her, or I’ll have you thrown into the ocean.”

“I’ll be watching too,” Caleb adds, his tone playful with a teasing smirk.

A few of them laugh, offering easy smiles and greetings.

The introductions blend together—faces, names, friendly exchanges. Some are actors, some are behind the camera, some are just here for the beach. You barely catch half of what’s being said, nodding along and attempting to remember their names.

You find yourself with the group of side characters discussing your roles, lines, and queues. You can’t help but steal glances at the other group where MC and Caleb are—the group of main characters.

A scoff leaves your lips.

Ironic.

The roar of the engine tears through the air, drowning out all other sounds from the waves to the chatters.

A sleek black motorcycle cuts across the sand, a shadow against the golden stretch of the beach, leaving a cloud of dust in its wake. It moves with precision, stopping just before the group in one smooth motion.

The rider moves just as effortlessly.

With a single tug, the ebon helmet comes off, revealing a mess of silver strands—hair catching in the wind, untamed and unbothered. He exhales, running a hand through the locks like this arrival is nothing more than an obligation.

But there’s no denying it.

Even as the bike hums quietly beneath him, it’s not the vehicle stealing attention.

It’s him.

Black fabric clings to his frame, a stark contrast against the bright, sun-drenched scenery. The sharp planes of his face—cut by light and shadow—hold a quiet, effortless indifference.

The tall figure swings a leg over, stepping off the bike, boots sinking slightly into the sand.

The weight of his presence alone is enough to command attention—to turn all heads and cease all conversations.

One of the crews rushes towards him, their voice edged with exasperation. “You’re late, Sylus.”

He barely spares them a glance as he pulls off his gloves, his voice a deep, unhurried drawl. “My presence itself should be a blessing to you.”

A few chuckles ripple through the group, some amused, some wary, some a little too eager.

You glance at the scene for a second before turning away. The girls’ fawning over him is instant, predictable, and exhausting. You’ve seen it before. You’ll see it again.

While it is just a university project, the casts and crews move with precision, their skill making the process swift, effortless, practiced.

“Action!”

The cameras roll.

“Please… don’t go”

MC falls to her knees, clutching Sylus’s hand like it’s the only thing keeping her tethered to this world. Her voice trembles, perfectly measured, perfectly raw. “I need you.”

Behind her, Caleb stands holding out his hands but never reaching her.

Had you not seen the cameras and microphones hanging overhead, you might’ve believed the desperation in his eyes.

But you know he’s not acting. That look in his eyes—the longing, the need, the quiet desperation woven into every word, every breath—you’ve seen it before.

Not in front of the cameras, but in the dead of the night when the world is asleep, his hands on your skin,

and his lips calling her name.

You watch the last scene of the day roll, standing on the sidelines as a filler character.

This is your role—the side character, a body to fill the frame.

A subject to make their story passionate.

You can’t help but silently scoff at yourself.

“Where are you looking, Sylus? Focus!” the director shouts.

Sylus scoffs in return. “Okay, okay, calm down.” His tone is lazy, unbothered.

The cameras reset.

“One more. Action!”

•

The scenes for the day finally come to a close, wrapping up just as the sky softens into shades of vanilla and gold. The lingering warmth of the sun dips beneath the horizon, casting long shadows over the sand.

Crew members pack up the equipment with practiced ease, voices overlapping as people shuffle toward the parked vehicles, eager to return to the resort for the night.

“I’m going to go with the others to shop for the campfire tonight,” MC announces, slinging her bag over her shoulder. “You can head back first.”

Caleb hesitates. “Are you sure you don’t need my help?”

She waves him off, beaming. “Yeah! You can head back with Yn. I’ll follow shortly!”

He lingers a moment longer, but eventually, he exhales, conceding. “Alright.”

MC disappears into the departing group, her laughter fading into the evening air.

Caleb turns, and his gaze lands on you.

Sitting by the shore, distant and unmoving, staring at the descending star.

The tide laps gently at the sand, rhythmic, steady—tranquilizing.

You don’t need to look up to know he’s watching.

You feel it—the familiar warmth of his presence, the way the sand shifts beneath him as he steps closer. Then, with a soft thud, he plops down beside you, stretching his legs out with easy familiarity.

“Was it fun?” he asks.

You don’t answer.

Instead, you let the waves respond for you, let the hush of the ocean fill the space between words left unsaid.

A chuckle slips from his lips—low, warm, effortless.

“Silent treatment? That bad, huh?”

You glance at him, finding that mischievous glint in his violet eyes, the one that always makes it hard to stay mad at him. The golden remnants of sunset paint his face in soft light, illuminating the curve of his smirk, the way the sea breeze tousles his hair.

“It’s tiring,” you murmur.

“That’s why I’m here,” he grins, stretching his arms behind his head, completely unbothered. “Aren’t you lucky?”

You roll your eyes. “So lucky.”

Caleb hums, shifting closer. Then—without warning—his head drops onto your shoulder.

The weight of him is unexpected but not unwelcome, the warmth of his body seeping into yours as he settles in comfortably.

You freeze. “What are you doing?”

“Taking a break.” His voice is softer now, quieter, almost lazy. “Being around people all day is exhausting, even for me, shortcake. Let me stay in my safe zone for a moment.”

Your breath catches.

Safe zone.

Your lips part, but no words come out.

He turns slightly, cheek pressing against your shoulder. His hair tickles your skin, and you swear you can feel the ghost of his smile.

“I think I like you like this,” he muses.

“Like what?”

“Quiet.”

You scoff, shoving his head off of you. “Ass.”

He laughs—really laughs, bright and full, the kind that tugs at something deep inside your chest.

Before you can pull away completely, he grabs your wrist, effortlessly pulling you back toward him.

And then—he flops over, head landing right in your lap.

You tense.

“Relax,” he murmurs, closing his eyes, completely at ease beneath your touch. “You make a good pillow.”

You huff. “I should just dump you in the ocean.”

“You wouldn’t dare.” He peeks up at you, smirk lazy, teasing, dangerously soft. “You’d miss me too much.”

You want to argue. You want to push him away.

But his hand finds yours, fingers absentmindedly tracing along your palm.

Soft. Gentle. Thoughtless, even.

And suddenly, the waves don’t seem so loud.

The world shrinks down to this moment, this warmth, this feeling.

“I like your company,” he mumbles. His eyes remain closed, a soft smile plastered on his lips.

You don’t answer.

You should scoff, slap him across his face and tell him he’s the biggest liar you’ve ever met.

But your heart betrays you—thudding just a little too loudly, a little too eagerly.

Because for the first time, Caleb seems present. With his hands slowly caressing yours, hair tickling your legs, breaths steady and soft. For the first time, he does not seem like he wants to be elsewhere. For the first time, he seems to be here with you.

The sky deepens from gold to navy, the last remnants of sunlight swallowed by the horizon. The moon rises, casting silver light over the waves, over him, over you.

And still, he doesn’t move.

Neither do you.

•

By the time you make it to the campfire, the flames have already been lit, their glow flickering against familiar faces. Laughter rings through the night, warmth curling through the air.

Someone from the team spots you immediately and waves you over.

“What took you so long?” another asks, tilting their head.

Before you can answer, Caleb nudges your side, voice lazy, amused.

“Tell them we were making out,” he whispers.

You elbow him in the ribs.

“We were watching the sunset,” you correct, ignoring the way Caleb huffs dramatically beside you.

People around the campfire raise their brows. “For that long?” one asks.

Before either of you can answer, MC walks towards the group, holding sticks of barbecue.

“You’re finally here! C’mon, hurry up and eat!”

The dinner goes on in easy waves of laughter and conversation, the campfire crackling as the scent of grilled barbecue fills the air. People pass around plates, skewers of meat and vegetables glistening under the golden flames.

MC settles between you and Caleb, nudging your arm playfully as she hands you a plate. “Eat. I don’t need you passing out tomorrow.”

Caleb chuckles from her other side. “Yeah, wouldn’t want you tripping over yourself on set. Again.”

You roll your eyes but take the plate anyway. The night stretches on, conversations flowing from topic to topic, dipping into familiar questions, teasing remarks.

At some point, someone grins, leaning forward. “Alright, let’s get to the good stuff—love lives.”

A few groans mix with laughter, while others lean in eagerly.

“Anyone got a secret romance brewing?” someone asks, eyes glinting in the firelight.

“Please,” another chimes in. “We’re filming a romance movie; might as well have some of that energy off-screen too.”

People murmur in agreement, some throwing names around, nudging shoulders, exchanging knowing glances.

Then—

“Where’s Sylus?” someone asks, noticing his absence.

Another voice answers casually, “Oh, he never joins things like this. He’s probably off somewhere alone. Typical.”

A few nod, unfazed.

“He’s kind of intimidating, isn’t he?” someone murmurs.

Another person shrugs. “That’s just how he is. Doesn’t care much about the social stuff unless he’s interested.”

The conversation shifts again, taking on a more excited energy.

“This movie is seriously going to be a hit,” someone exclaims. “I mean, we got the two most popular guys in uni.”

Heads nod in agreement, laughter breaking through the air.

“Seriously,” another adds. “We have Caleb—literally every freshman’s crush— and Sylus, the mysterious, untouchable one. It’s like the perfect setup for an actual drama.”

Caleb groans, running a hand through his hair. “Can’t a guy just live in peace?”

“You? Peace? Doubtful.” Someone grins.

The conversation naturally drifts back to love.

“So, Caleb,” one of the girls teases, leaning toward him. “What about you?”

You feel him shift beside you, but he’s unbothered, relaxed—almost like he saw this coming.

“What about me?” he hums, taking a slow bite of his skewer.

“Yeah, now that I think about it, I’ve never seen you around other girls,” MC points out. “So, what’s the deal? Are you single or just keeping secrets?”

More eyes turn to him, curious, expectant.

“Oh! But you seem oddly close to Yn these days,” her eyes narrow, a smirk curling up her lips. “I heard you watched the sunset together today too. Don’t tell me my best friends are dating behind my back!”

For a second—just a second—he pauses.

Then, with practiced ease, he exhales, the firelight flickering in his violet eyes. He tilts his head slightly, as if considering it—as if the idea itself is so absurd, it’s almost amusing.

“Me?” he says with a low, amused chuckle. “With Shortcake?”

He lets the words roll off his tongue, light, teasing, dismissive. His light chuckle turns into a full-on heaving laughter.

“C’mon, Michaela, you alone are enough to consume all my time! When will I have time to find a girlfriend, let alone fall for someone else?”

Laughter erupts around the fire.

MC laughs, nudging Caleb’s arm. “Oh, shut up. You make it sound like I’m your full-time job.”

He grins, bumping her shoulders back. “A tough job, but someone’s gotta do it.”

The group chuckles, the conversation moving along effortlessly—like it was never meant to be serious. Like your name had been nothing more than a passing joke.

You force a small smile, fingers tightening slightly around the skewer in your hand.

The laughter around the fire falls distant, like a muffled echo underwater.

For a second—for just a second—you’re still there, sitting by the shore, the last traces of sunlight painting the world in gold, his head resting in your lap, his fingers absentmindedly tracing your skin. The warmth you felt from him starkly contrasted the hollowness you’re dumped into, making you question if it even happened in the first place.

The memory clings to you like seafoam on the shore—delicate, fleeting, not meant to last.

Then it’s gone.

Ripped away by the weight of the present, by the laughter ringing through the air, by Caleb’s easy dismissal.

You shoot up from your seat, feeling the air and laughter drowning you.

“I’m gonna go grab some drinks,” you mumble

“The store’s pretty far from here, and the path’s pretty dark. Are you sure you’re going?” you hear someone say.

“Yeah, I’ll be fine,” you quickly excuse yourself.

The laughter behind you fades as you step away, but it doesn’t really disappear—it lingers, echoing in your chest, a cruel reminder that you’re the only one who isn’t in on the joke.

The path stretches before you, dark and empty, the only company being the dim white lights lining the road, casting long, hollow shadows on the pavement. You don’t really know where you’re going. You don’t care.

Your feet move on autopilot, one step after another, but your mind—your mind is still by the fire.

Still hearing Caleb’s voice.

Still seeing his smirk.

Still feeling the weight of him in your lap, the warmth of his hand against yours.

Like a dream you had foolishly clung to—only to wake up and realize it was never real.

Then—the first drop.

Cold against your cheek, startling.

Then another.

And another.

Within seconds, the sky splits open, the rain crashing down in heavy sheets, soaking through your clothes, drenching you in the same suffocating weight you’ve been carrying inside.

You don’t fight it.

You finally let it happen.

Let the raindrops blur into the tears already falling, let them wash away the silent sobs that quickly, too quickly, unravel into something raw, something ugly.

A sound rips out of you, one you barely recognize. A choked, broken sob, spilling out between gasps as your legs keep moving, keep carrying you forward—like if you stop, you’ll drown in everything you’ve been trying to ignore.

Your breaths hitch, your chest tightens, tightens, tightens—

“Me? With shortcake?” his voice echoes, repeats, digs in like a thorn you can’t pull out.

It plays over and over and over, rattling inside your skull, each syllable curling with amusement, dismissal, finality.

Tight, tighter, unbearable.

Each step you take feels heavier, anchoring you to something you don’t want to feel.

Then—thunder.

A deafening roar shakes the sky.

Your body reacts before your mind does—freezing, seizing, shaking.

No.

Another crash, louder this time, vibrating through your bones.

No, no, no.

The world blurs, the rain suffocating, your breath coming out in sharp, panicked gasps. Your legs lock up, your hands shake violently, and suddenly you’re seven years old again, curled up under a blanket, pressing your hands over your ears as the storm raged outside.

You look around, desperate, trying to make sense of where you are—or at the very least, find somewhere to hide. However, everything is blurred, smudged by the relentless storm and tears in your eyes, the shadow stretching too far, the streetlights blending into nothing but streaks of white against the downpour.

You can’t see.

You can’t think.

You can’t breathe.

With whatever shed of clarity you have left, you fumble for your phone.

5%

The red battery icon blinks at you, mocking.

Your fingers are numb, shaking, barely able to dial in a number that first comes to mind.

The only number that comes to mind

Ring. Ring.

Please.

Another crack of thunder—closer.

Your knees buckle.

The sob that escapes you this time is pure terror.

You clutch your arms, shaking uncontrollably, the storm raging louder than the screams in your head. Your chest heaves, tightens, clenches painfully—

It won’t stop.

It won’t stop.

It won’t stop.

Ring. Ring.

Please, pick up.

And then—

“Hello?”

His voice cuts through the static, sharp and clear.

A choked breath catches in your throat. You don’t even know what you’re about to say.

“Caleb… I—“

“Sorry, Yn. Now’s not a great time.”

Everything pauses.

There’s a rustling sound, laughter—hers, clear as day, warm and safe.

“You know how MC is with thunders. I’ll call you back soon.”

Click.

The call cuts.

The storm rages on, but everything goes quieter.

For a moment, you just stand there.

A gust of wind lushes through you, piercing. But you barely feel it.

Your knees finally give out. You collapse to the soaked pavement.

Your hands clutch at your arms, fingers digging in, shaking, gripping like they can hold you together.

You hold onto yourself, keeping yourself safe from the storm you so despise. Thunder cracks, splitting the sky open.

You flinch, curling into yourself, pressing your forehead against your knees, trying to quiet down the noice.

But the rain keeps falling.

Pounding.

Drenching.

Drowning.

And then— a sound cuts through the chaos.

A low, deep growl of an engine.

It intrudes the thunder, steady and deliberate, getting closer.

Headlights carve through the darkness, their beams stretching across the road, swallowing you in a cold, artificial glow.

The bike comes to a slow halt.

Boots meet the wet pavement with a quiet thud.

His voice smooth and amused.

“What do we have here?”

He doesn’t rush. He doesn’t fumble with concern the way others might. There’s no gasp, no urgency, no immediate reach to help.

Instead, he observes.

And all he can see—

is a mess.

Soaked to the bone, curled into yourself, trembling not just from the cold or fear, but from something unraveling inside.

Pathetic.

That’s probably the first word that crosses his mind.

His head tilts slightly, eyes flickering over you, the way you refuse to lift your head, the way your breath still quivers, uneven, caught somewhere between a sob and silence.

And he waits.

Waits to see if you’ll move.

Waits to see if you’ll even notice him.

You don’t.

Which is probably the part that annoys him the most.

So, after a beat—probably due to pity in its most pathetic form—he finally exhales, kneeling just enough to close the distance between you.

A gloved hand lazily flicks your forehead.

Not hard. Not soft.

Just enough to pull you back to reality.

And when you finally look up—half-lost, half-ruined—he meets your gaze with a single, unimpressed arch of his brow.

“You look like hell.”

part 3

[mojifushiguro]

unforgettable ! e.yeager & a.arlert

"she left her man at home... she don't love him no more..." eren x black!fem reader x armin

warnings: smut! mdni, toxic relationships, cursing, drinking, smoking, mentions of cheating, cheating, mentions of sexual acts, very mild praising, etc. NOT PROOFREAD YET

part 1. next part here.

if you were asked to describe the relationship between you and eren, you would say it was perfect.

he's your boyfriend, he loves you, and you love him.

at least that's what you'd say.

to the naked eye, your relationship was just perfect. everyone knew you were together, everyone wants to take your spot, everyone wanted to take his spot.

no one ever did.

when it came down to eren, he knew how hard he could make things between you two, and some times he made things hard just for the fun of it, because he knew that later on, he could fuck the attitude right out of you.

but sometimes, you pissed eren off too, and he told his friends about his relationship problems just as you did.

you love eren and eren loves you. probably too much. because you take each others bullshit entirely too much.

"and the hoes, and the bitches, and the sluts that you constantly try to make me jealous with? fuck them hoes, eren. and fuck you." you frowned, sipping from your margarita as eren drove to the party hosted by none other than you guys' friend, jean.

you and erens relationship was the definition of a wolf in sheep's clothing.

"for the last fuckin time, I dont try to make you jealous wit no bitches. you just..." eren sat back in his seat with one hand on the steering wheel, hair pulled back into a messy half up half down.

"im just what?"

he only shook his head and stared out the window with an annoyed expression.

"you know I love you, ion know why you think im cheating wit a bitch all the time." eren glanced at you with a slight frown.

"because that's all you do!" you threw your hands up, forgetting the margarita was in it, and accidentally throwing some of the drink on the window.

eren stopped at the red light and took his hand off the wheel, staring at you with a sigh. "baby, calm down."

"you calm down."

"I promise you im calm."

you watched at the drink slowly rolled down the window, sipping the rest out of your bottle. "you make me sick."

eren pressed his lips together for a second before turning on the road where jeans house was. "right."

he put the car in park and turned it off, exhaling. "go in, I can clean that shit up." he pointed to the window on your side of his car. you didn't get out and you put the drink in the cup holder, crossing your arms.

"I just wanna hear the truth. she texted me saying you was at her house last night. funny, because last night you told me you went out to go deal."

"and I did." eren pat his thighs. "what else you want from me?"

"I need you to tell the truth."

eren sighed and looked you in the eyes. "I went to deal, and I came back home. I told you that girl old news. she just jealous im wit you. that's it that's all." he gave you a quick kiss as you stared at him, wondering if you should believe him or not.

"okay." you mumbled, opening the now sticky car door and stepping out. you closed the door behind you and walked towards the entrance of the house, the loud beats of the music pulsing through your hands as you grabbed the door handle and opened the door.

this wasn't your first time going to a party of jean's, it was actually occasional that you'd come out. but when you did, you always went to the usual spot.

"y/nnnnn, long see no time!" ony held his arms out, giving you a big hug. "hey, I know." you laughed and poured yourself a drink from the kitchen table.

"girl, you aint been out in forever. we been waiting for you!" sasha smiled, holding her cup out for another drink. as you poured hers in, you smiled and nodded.

"life been life-ing" you rolled your eyes, and sasha knew exactly what you were talking about. she's the one you'd talk to the most about eren and the shit he did.

"y'know what? I say you drink his ass away, and get em off your mind tonight."

before you could even agree, you heard a loud "ayeeeee!" from the crowd of people.

rolling your eyes and sitting your cup down, you already knew eren had just walked in. as everyone cheered, for whatever reason, you were suddenly lifted off the ground and tossed over his shoulder.

eren covered your ass with his hand, because your outfit was already revealing enough as it is, and spun you around as everyone yelled your names.

"boy put me down!" you yelled over all the voices, making eren laugh and put you back on your feet.

he grabbed your waist and your cup, holding it up as everyone continued to scream and cheer, and took a big sip from it, kissing you right after.

he was really the favorite of everyone, no doubt, and you just shook your head, cant help but to smile, grab your drink and distance yourself from all the noise. because gosh, they were loud.

so you decided to go outside, rolling your eyes and fixing your skirt.

what a show off he was.

outside the house is where most guests smoked and got In the pool. you stood near the side of the house, checking your phone and pulling up your camera to fix your hair.

"y/n?"

hearing your name being called, you looked up to see none other than armin. "hey armin" you waved and smiled, giving him a quick side hug.

you and armin weren't really close, he was closer to eren than you if you were being completely honest. they were childhood friends, so their bond was tight from your perspective.

"you not wit eren tonight?" he asked placing his blunt between his lips and inhaling.

you put your phone in your skirt and sighed softly, shaking your head. "too much attention and commotion in there. and he pissed me off earlier." you said, turning your attention toward armin.

he wore a white tee with grey sweatpants, really simple since he wasnt the type to dress up for things.

he only hummed and pulled his blunt from his lips, letting the smoke out through his nose. he was probably more of a stoner than anyone else in the group.

"you looked like you was havin fun." he looked back at you.

in all realness, the only reason he made eye contact was to stop himself from looking at your body. but he kind of towered over you, so that was the last thing on your mind.

you looked at the ground. "that's how it seem, aint it?"

"yep."

you looked back at armin as he looked at the people jumping and running around the pool just a distance away from you two.

you saw as he ran his tongue over his bottom lip and hit his blunt again. his eyes reflected nicely off the lights coming from around the house, and his hair blew with the warm summer wind.

"wanna hit?"

oh yes.

"hit what?" you continued to scan him before realizing he was passing you the blunt. "o-oh" you laughed a little, grabbing the blunt from his finger tips.

"I got lipgloss on, though." you looked back at him.

"ill live."

you shrugged and took a long puff, exhaling and leaning your back against the wall, just like armin did.

he looked at you, your hair, your face, your shoulders, and on down.

and fuck, he couldn't help but bite his lip.

"aye... why you let eren treat you like that?"

you passed him the blunt and took a sip from your cup. "like what?"

"like you dont matter or sum. like you not his girlfriend."

frowning a little, you looked at him. "he be telling you stuff? about our relationship?"

armin tilted his head side to side, "you know... from time to time. I just dont know what you let him treat you like shit." he mumbled, already knowing you'd have something to say to defend eren.

and that's what he hated the most.

if he was anybody else, you would've told him he didn't know anything about you and erens relationship, and to stop giving his opinion on it.

but he was erens best friend.

he probably knew more about eren than you did, and that's what you thought about the most in that small moment of trying to excuse his actions.

"I love him." was all you could say.

"don't mean you cant find better." armin looked back at you, right in your eyes.

it felt deeper than when eren looked you in the eyes. and you knew it was wrong to think about, let alone consider, but you knew eren was so damn bad for you, you couldn't help but think, 'I wanna fuck you so bad.'

and its like he could read your mind, because as soon as you thought it, armin's eyes trailed to your lips.

you dont know exactly how it happened, but after a few more drinks, and a couple more blunts, you were in the back of armins car, getting fucked like you never got fucked before.

"armin... fuck..." you moaned into his ear. armins pants and breaths turned you on even more.

and the way you gripped his dick? he was almost jealous that eren was hitting it every night.

armins grip on your hips remained as the wet sounds filled the car.

thank god for tinted windows.

"you're... its too big..." you whined, making armin look up at you, as you rode him. he didn't even respond, he just grabbed you by the back of your neck and pulled you down to kiss you, thrusting deeper with every moan that escaped your lips.

"its okay, you're a big girl. you can take it." armin whispered in your ear. "if you cant, 's gonna be harder. you don't want me to take control... do you?" armin spoke through grunts and soft moans,

you quickly shook your head 'no' and placed your hands on the driver and passenger seat to hold yourself up.

"ah... fuck!" you moaned, opening your eyes as you felt yourself slowly reaching your limit.

"come on, you got it." armin bit his lip whilst smiling.

as soon as he said that, you felt yourself start to shake, gripping him tighter than before.

armin threw his head back, raising you off of him and rubbing his you-soaked dick, cumming right on your "pretty pussy.." he whispered, licking his lips.

you caught your breath, watching his desperate face as he finished on you.

he reached over to grab tissues from the floor of the back seat, cleaning you up nicely and fixing your underwear.

as you both fixed yourself, you got off of him and sat beside him. you couldn't do anything but smile at the moment.

"this feels wrong."

armin clicked his tongue and raised his eyebrows with a shrug. "well, it is. I just fucked my best friends girl."

you playfully hit his shoulder and laughed. "don't say that!"

armin laughed softly and cleared his throat.

"I guess you gotta go back to yo... boyfriend?"

you softly smiled and nodded.

armin looked at you with a sweet look and tilted his head. "one more kiss? for the road?"

you giggled, leaning over to give armin one more kiss on the cheek before turning to open the car door. "ill see you later, armin."

armin stared at you as you closed the door, before exhaling.

"definitely."

p2 out!

[syrecjh]

Ok ok ok hear me out H2O just add water (that is if you know if not its a show from Australia about Mermaids its definitely of its time)

Katsuki x reader (Mermaid same powers as Cleo)

Exchange student from Australia honestly just have fun with i dont know what the hell this would be about 😭😭😂😂

──★🧜‍♀️ ̟ !! Where Fire Meets Tide

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ || katsuki bakugo x mermaid! reader, pure fluff

The first time you walked into Class 1-A, you smelled like sea salt and honeydew — like the coastline after sunrise — and Katsuki Bakugo hated how everyone noticed. Even him. Especially him.

An exchange student from Australia, they said. Top of her course. Gentle, soft-spoken, a little strange. There was always a wet glimmer in your eyes, like the ocean lived behind your lashes. But beneath the warmth and the melodic accent was a Quirk that even Aizawa raised a brow at — hydrokinesis so precise it could split a stream in midair, part the school pool, or sculpt daggers from still puddles.

And, of course, the transformation part.

“I turn into a mermaid,” you said during your Quirk introduction, fingers laced shyly. “Only when I choose to, though. Or if I touch too much water... so I’m a little careful around sinks.” Your voice was soft, like waves lapping against stone. It made the class blink — and Kaminari whisper something scandalous to Kirishima, who nearly choked.

No one believed you yet— not really — until the day Aizawa threw the class into one of his infamous combat tests. Water terrain. Obstacle course. Teams of three. And you, perched on the edge of the artificial lake, tugged off your shoes and smiled.

“I’ll be more help like this,” you’d said, then slipped into the water with a grace that made time hesitate.

She rose from the lake like a siren of myth — all cascading, sea-glass hair that shimmered between aqua and silver, glowing skin kissed by moonlight, and a long, elegant tail the color of twilight. Deep indigo, flecked with hints of pearl and gold, fins fluttering like silk in the current.

Katsuki Bakugo, watching from his perch behind a boulder, grunted something incoherent and blew up the tree beside him on accident. His ears were very red.

“She’s a damn sea goddess,” Sero whispered.

“Yeah,” Kirishima said dreamily. “A water bender… but, like, hotter.”

It wasn’t just the beauty, though. It was the raw power. You sliced waves with your arms like blades, summoned tidal lifts to catapult your teammates, trapped enemies in spinning water spheres. Even Todoroki blinked at your control.

But power had its price. When the simulation ended and you pulled yourself out of the water, your transformation reversed in a gentle shimmer — tail retracting, legs trembling — leaving your usual clothes soaked, half-torn, barely holding together at the seams.

“Oops,” you murmured with a nervous laugh, arms crossed over your chest. “That happens every time.”

The class turned politely away. Most of them. Bakugo was the one shoved toward you by a very not-so-subtle Mina.

“Don’t look,” you squeaked, cheeks burning.

“Don’t tell me what to do,” he muttered, already throwing his oversized training jacket at you, grumbling the whole time. “Should’ve told us your stupid mermaid thing meant wardrobe malfunctions.”

“Sorry,” you said, pouting.

“Don’t say sorry. Just take the fuckin’ coat.”

You wrapped it around yourself. It smelled like burnt sugar, leather, and boy — the kind who’s too hot for his own good and mad about it. “Thank you, Katsuki.”

He twitched. “Don’t call me that either.”

You smiled, unbothered. “Alright. Thank you, Blasty-kun.”

“…I’ll drown you.”

But he didn’t. In fact, he ended up walking beside you all the way back to the dorms. Said it was “so no one gets a look.” He was practically growling the whole time. But his steps matched yours. His jacket stayed around your shoulders.

And that night, back in your room, dripping water into the towel under your feet, you found a Tupperware of cut fruit left on your desk. A sticky note stuck on top in sharp, messy handwriting:

“Stay hydrated, fish girl. –K.B.”

Later, you’d find out he also banned Kaminari from making mermaid jokes. Threatened Todoroki when he called you “ethereal.” And once — just once — you caught him staring at your reflection in a puddle with something wild and soft in his gaze.

He didn’t say it. You didn’t ask. But from that day forward, the boy born of fire never stopped looking at the girl made of tides.

And God help anyone who said mermaids weren’t real.

Idk what I'm doing too tbh, I'm just making things up😭😭😭😭

[deesseshesca]

PAC : First steps to get your spark back.

Just thinking about the good old time ...

PILE 1 (CLICK ON THE LINK FOR YOUR READING)

PILE 2 

8 swords (reverse), Chariot (reverse), Lovers (reverse) 

You guys are actually looking for each other. Let me be more clear, you are actively working to find your spark while at the same time still giving in to habits that don't fulfill you. I see 2 people that look exactly the same, in front of each other; so close they can actually kiss. Yelling at each other : Where are you? It is funny ( lol why did u laugh .. yes I laughed 2 but at the end of the day is a serious matter ( I was held at gun point by your spiritual team because I keep playing too much …) ) 

The first thing we can understand from all this is; yes, you are right, happiness is standing right in front of you but your perspective is wrong. You keep hating yourself because it is so easy to do the right thing alas you keep falling short since the issue is actually bigger than you allow yourself to be. The way you run away from victim state straight to survivor is actually hurting you. Yes you are in a better place and yes you are not being delusional by knowing you can be in a greater place but did you ever pause to see how much it hurted, how badly it hurted and how you can tend to your wounds. Babe … you've been bleeding. On your path where you are, there's dry blood and you are still bleeding. You are going to kill your spirit if you keep going. Your spiritual team knows you deserve to have all your manifestation but they refuse to give the key to your new door because your wounds are open. It is not because you are ignoring them that the world can't see them. Being weak  was a traumatizing for you  because is when you were in your most vulnerable that like fuck you up. You had to get up and choose yourself no matter what … KUDDOS TO U ! Now hun … you are safe so how about you allow yourself to cry, rest and FEEL. I am a firm believer that we need our shadow and light side so no I don't do that love and light because sometimes you have to check a bitch. I feel you are the same but babe you are too deep into the shadow, too deep into the sorrows and too deep into your wraith  that you completely forgot how good it is to live under the sun. Comeback from the catacombs, you are not a demon or a vampire and more importantly you are NOT DEATH. It is time to learn what it means for  YOU to not only be alive but to feel alive. Last step, stop chasing your next level. Learn to enjoy the journey. Right now you are running full speed but no one is after you. Yes I know you are running away from danger … but rn you are safe so why are you frightened ? You are good, take a breather and look around. Appreciate not only the environment you create for yourself but you for saving you. 

Bonus (because a lot of people don't realise when you lose your spark you will never get it back. No don't worry not in the way you know her but in a new way. She is going to materialize in a different version to suit the person you are becoming) : What does your new spark look like ? 

Ace cups (reverse) 

It is time to indulge. Enjoy what you have created. Discover, laugh more, believe more, smile more; stop running away instead run towards whatever feels good, sweet and spicy. Let people in, dive into a new hobby, party more, love more, have more protected sex… Essentially the key to your new spark is for you to relish yourself. 

PREVIOUS READING

COLLECTIVE READING (FREE) : Is meant to be !

3. What's your warning ?

4. BIG KO-FI SALE

(Go show some love babes ... XOXO)

PILE  3

8 pentacles, 5 pentacles (reverse), page wands (reverse) 

You never thought you would have finished all alone. I feel that you are the reason why your middle school/highschool friend befriended your adult/uni friend but now they left you all alone claiming you are the problem. Frl … you dont give a fuck and honestly I admire that. 

If you are looking to start a business go ahead especially now that you have all this free time … lol. A lot of y’all want to start a creative side hustle selling painting, nail tech, hairstylist and many more but instead you are comparing to girlypop online that have achieve 6 figure business and you dont think you are innovative enough to achieve this success or you may feel like everyone is become that … so the industry is saturated. Bitch who cares… first your spiritual team wanted me to tell you;  girlypop in your area needs your talent ASAP (me: the shaaaade) but not only that your job dont have to be your whole identity. If right now, as you are reading this , you want a small business then go for it, who can say if it is worth a million as long as you want it fo get it. Exemple : do you know how many girlypop read tarot online … c’mon now. I just had to come and sparkle some of my fire .. u know. I dont intend to do this forever … (opps … anyways …) but for now it fills my heart and that’s all that matters.This is not under your power but your spiritual team is telling you that you are going to have a boost in your personal life. So take it and bask in all that good good. Last step, allow yourself to be a student. Your energy is very scattered because you expect an overnight Beyonce level of success just because you open your business. You expect to be living the life of a nepo baby just because you wrote ONCE in your manifestation journal. Girl relax, this is just the beginning and at the beginning everyone is a loser. I don't know why with you, I feel the need to show off my L but anyways. The first reading I posted on Tumblr got 13 likes. It took 3 months before having double digit notes and a couple more weeks before achieving a ‘’viral post’’ and averaging 200 notes after having that big 1000+ notes. You can scroll through my page ( you don't even need to go far), even with my big following … I still sometimes have posts that only get 100 notes (rookie number). C’mon now babe, your effort is not useless, it just is going to take more than just one good day. 

Bonus (because a lot of people don't realise when you lose your spark you will never get it back. No don't worry not in the way you know her but in a new way. She is going to materialize in a different version to suit the person you are becoming) : What does your new spark look like ? 

Wheel of fortune 

Stop peeking ! Stop looking at what others are doing, how others are moving or why your effort aint bringing as much gold as the other person. All of this is just making you a bitter messy human being for nothing. Focus on you, your craft; stay in your own lane and work your magic. Why you trying to ride the wave of somebody else that not bad bitch  behavior … dont get me wrong, I know how frustrating it can feel but c’mon bitch there's so much creativity sleeping inside of you. Instead you are wasting it away micromanaging others. The key to your new spark is to focus your eyes on YOUR lane.

PREVIOUS READING

COLLECTIVE READING (FREE) : Is meant to be !

3. What's your warning ?

4. BIG KO-FI SALE

(Go show some love babes ... XOXO)

[i99zhuo]

A routine inspired by thewizardliz ? She has skin care hair care routine reads motivating books

How to live like thewizardliz 🧚🏼‍♀️🪄⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊ quit your lazy girl era!

This is a guide on daily routines inspired by Thewizardliz! This routine is perfect to stop being lazy and pathetic and finally start taking care of yourself!

content list (routines):

morning

study

workout

shower + self care

night

(_ _ ) . . z Z⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚୨ :★: ୧ ∗  ˖࣪ ໒꒱  ˚₊·

✸ ꒰ morning routine ꒱⋆ ࣪.* ࣪.⋆

🧼 First things first, after you wake up make sure to drink water to boost your metabolism throughout the day! Also, create a mind movie so you can watch it everyday after you wake up.

Now, take your journal and start writing about your dream, ideal higher self, ask yourself questions like ‘What reality do i want to create?´ 'Who do i look up to?’ ‘What is the behavior I need to change about myself?’ ‘What's a new habit that I would like to create?’ ‘What is a thing I can focus on right now?’. After we have in mind who we want to become, it's important that every little decision you make today is centered to achieve your goals, and become your dream self. You can listen to a podcast while doing this so you get motivation!

💶 Then, head to the bathroom and look at yourself in the mirror and start repeating positive affirmations, such as ‘I am so beautiful’ or ‘My hair looks so pretty today’, even if you don't believe it, having a positive mindset is going to help us to stay in track with our goals!

Take care of your teeth, Liz says that our smile is one of the most important things in a person, and one of the key things that is going to make you more attractive! so, make sure to brush your teeth, floss, clean your tongue, etc.

🛣 Liz has a rather simple skincare routine, since her skin is so sensitive, it only consists of using a foam cleanser, moisturizer and eye cream to help with her eye bags.

Next step is to research and find our own personal clothing and makeup style, find out your body type, personal color, face shape, etc. It doesn't matter if you have to mix multiple styles that already exist to make your own! The most important thing is to feel comfortable while wearing those clothes or having that type of makeup on your face.

🏔 Liz doesn't like to force herself to have breakfast, she just dont eat if she's not hungry, however if you are hungry rather than focusing on calories focus on how nutritious your meal is. Whatsoever if you are not hungry and you are not going to eat, make sure to always take your vitamins and supplements!

✸ ꒰ study routine ꒱⋆ ࣪.* ࣪.⋆

Yes, it's time to drink a little more water!

⛰ Liz doesn't have a settled study routine but, it's important to spend our time wisely, if you can finish an assignment way before the time it's due, DO IT! Also, she emphasized that knowledge leads to confidence. If you put effort in your studies, every little thing in your life will slowly fall into place.

✸ ꒰ workout routine ꒱⋆ ࣪.* ࣪.⋆

First, set healthy goals, like toning up your body or building muscle, try not to make ‘just being skinny’ your goal.

🧩 second, don't measure yourself with a scale or measuring tape and focus on how you look in the mirror, are you satisfied? if you are then you are done with the intense workout routine!

Liz goes to the gym and has her own personal training program, but here’s some kind of exercises she recommends; weight training, pilates and dancing with her main focus being toning up her abs and butt.

🏄‍♀️ Remember to drink water and that consistency is more important than perfection, go at your own pace, it doesn't matter if you can't do a 2 hour workout and look snatched in 3 days and you can only do a 5 minute workout, every little effort adds up!

✸ ꒰ shower and self care routine ꒱⋆ ࣪.* ࣪.⋆

Before showering, do dry brushing to exfoliate your skin and increase circulation (1-2 times per week). Then use shampoo and conditioner, research to find the best one for you, what may help others won't help you. Liz also uses a hair mask 1 to 2 times per week to get that shiny silk hair.

🎾 After showering take some time to shape and pluck your eyebrows depending on your face shape and what impression you want to give! 

Liz uses face masks 1 to 2 times per week to cleansing her face deeply, then she does her skincare. After applying all the products do a lymphatic massage on your face and neck, you can also cool down your face with massagers or cold spoons for an extra depuff.

🍾 For self care, you can journal again, search for shadow work prompts, think of what things you should unlearn and relearn and don't forget to practice gratitude. Or you can take time to clean your room or house, you deserve to have a clean safe place! 

Oh! and don't forget to drink water again.

✸ ꒰ night routine ꒱⋆ ࣪.* ࣪.⋆

🧃 Time for dinner! (only if you are not full yet), again, make sure to focus on nutrients rather than calories. Don't forget to drink a glass of water with your dinner. You can watch a documentary while eating to keep gaining even more knowledge.

Now, do your oral hygiene routine again. Also, put on eyelash conditioner and serum to wake up with perfect lashes! Then wear a silk cap or do a protective hairstyle to protect your hair from getting damaged while you're sleeping.

🍵 Then get in bed and drink a cup of tea with collagen to start relaxing your body. and it's finally time to manifest! watch your mind movie again and use your most useful method (affirming visualizing, subliminals, etc.), don't forget to ask god, the universe or whatever you believe in for signals and help!

Afterwards, you can read an inspirational book like ‘atomic habits’ or ‘the art of thinking clearly’ to keep nourishing your brain. keep a reachable goal like reading 5 pages everyday and then decide if you want to continue reading or not.

🥬 Before sleeping listen to a guided meditation, liz have one to be more confident and one to attract money, choose one that aligns with your goals!

Finally fall asleep in a healthy sleeping position, Liz sleeps in her back looking at the roof, but you can choose your favorite position, don't forget to get a pillow that fits the position (example: tall and lofty pillow -> for sleeping on your side)

🍈 Good night!

Woah second request done!! hope you liked this one was pretty fun to do and I might add some of these things in my own personal routine so I don't fall back into laziness, anyways how about you guys??

toodlezzzz!1!!!!!

[rubyyanddrainy]

MY PRECIOUS LITTLE DOVE

Stalker x male reader. nsfw and fluff.

Your POV:

You were stalked by an unknown person for a few years actually, you always saw the figure passing by u quickly. but it would never hurt u.

You always bought the same cup of coffee, and in the same cafe. the figure was always standing outside smoking to pretend not looking at you. it’s lips pressing againest the cigarette. As it’s tall frame left when u step out of the cafe, confused. all while not knowing the figure took a picture of your cute look. a brown cardigan and glasses.

You sigh. “It’s..that figure again. it’s so odd..”

You mumble to yourself.

Zays POV:

Fuck- hes so adorable. his cute face scrunched abit in confusion. His glasses. his cute brown cardigan.

“When will you notice me (your name)?”

Zay thought to himself. crushing the cigarette under his shoe.

Zay grabbed his phone as he texted you.

UNKNOWN: hey, (your name) i see u. and i know u see me too. when will u notice me?

Zay sent the text. not knowing what u would feel.

your POV:

What the? what is this creep saying? you clench your phone in fear and discomfort.

What a weird way to text someone like that! before u heard footsteps coming, the scent of smoke and blood.

“I’m sorry did i make u uncomfortable darling?”

Zay said with a chuckle. taking off his hood to reveal his handsome face, a clean beautiful black hair and grey eyes. his tall frame towering over your short one.

“Mm..sorry pretty boy. didn’t know u didn’t like that.”

“What- u creep! u sent me this and expected me to be calm with it?!”

You shook your own stalker.

You felt his hands going down on your ass and belt.

“Calm down my handsome (your name), i just wanted to see u that’s all.”

Zay said calmly.

“Ugh. your so weird Zay.”

You mumble in protest.

Zay lifted u up, you yelp, “Hey! what are u-“

You felt him kiss u roughly. his long fingers tracing your body, gosh it was perfect. He loved it so much.

He gripped your thighs. biting your collarbone to lift your shirt up and kiss your stomach.

“I just wanna fill u with my babies..”

“N-no!” you shout in embarrassment.

“Come on..your stomach needs some filling anyway.”

He grabbed your crotch making u whimper.

He played there for abit. like a fucking stress ball.

“Hah..you’re just too adorable. you want it dont u?”

“Mmgh..fine.”

“Nngh- fuck- mmf..your too quick-“ You babble in pleasure and dizziness.

Zay pushed u softly againest the alleyways wall.

Before shoving back in.

“I’m not too quick..u can handle it.”

“mmf- I-“

Zay kissed your stomach. spreading your legs open, hitting deeper.

“I’ll fill u up with my babies..don’t worry (your name) you’ll be mine in every way possible.”

You didn’t even heart what he said, just giving a tired nod.

“He’s so pretty..this is all for me. hah- i can’t believe it. i’ll cherish him forever..till he loves me and cherishes me like i do for him.”

Zay thinked, your just so perfect in his eyes <3

Writers note: yall so..quick??

[s4ku-sh1ftz]

How to use loa to shift

I am aware there are many posts like this, and i read a lot of them and gathered my important points into this post:

So before starting i want to say that the info i’m about to give you may seem like too simple to believe but you need to understand shifting is not a process. Shifting is instant. The time you take to believe and feel that shifting is instant may take a while bc shifttok is so packed with different interpretations of how you should shift

1. Your imagination is the only reality. Your subconscious has no idea of the difference between imagination and real world thus why you feel real emotions when “imagining” your dr. But when you imagine it you say to urself “i’m only imagining my dr bc i’m not there” which reminds your subconscious that you are not in your dr. If you don’t tell urself “i’m not in my dr” while imagining your dr and instead tell urself “i am actually experiencing this, i am in my dr”, congrats you are in your desired reality

2. This means you need to stop giving power to your 3D or physical world (ur cr) you need to ignore it and feel indifferent to it because as i said, it’s not the real reality. This may be hard but you need to do it. Stop reacting to ur 3D (ofc that doesn’t mean act like it doesn’t exist. If you hurt yourself in ur 3D don’t ignore it but simply reming urself that it is not the real reality ) observe the unwanted (ur 3D ) but DO NOT ABSORB. Observe ur 3D with the knowledge that you have shifted

Now how to use this to shift?

3. To shift, and this has to be constant and presisted, simply decide to shift. You do not need a method. Just rn as ur reading or wtv go “i am now in my dr” and from now on i forbid you to think otherwise. If you have a doubt, simply remind urself that that doubt has no meaning bc you are in your dr. Now congrats you have shifted. DO NOT LOOK IN THE 3D for validation of this claim. You are the validation, u are the master shifter, you just shifted. Now, how do you feel? I mean this is great after 3 years you shifted! Feel the feeling of relief that you are in ur dr imagine it. You can close ur eyes or not. But do not force your dr onto your 3D ur subconscious will do that for you. Also. You have now shifted do not act in a way as if u didn’t shift. Why would you need to do a method tonight if you’re already in your dr?

Why should you even care about the 3D?? You shifted in your imagination or 4D so thats what’s important. Don’t wake uo everyday hoping your 3D changed bc this makes ur subconscious think that u haven’t shifted, therefore making you doubt. Just let it marinate in your brain. Every day few times a day take 5-10 minutes to yourself reminding urself that you are in fact in your dr and feel that there is nothing else for you to do now that you have shifted

The trick is to not think or do anything to contradict your claim. You are in your dr and thats that. Do not make videos about how you haven’t shifted bc you have do not feel sorry for urself bc your 3D hasn’t changed yet. DONT WORRY ABOUT HOW AND WHEN UR 3D SHIFTS I FORBID U TO DO IT. DO THIS FOR URSELF FOR A FEW DAYS step out of your comfort zone of negative thoughts. You are in your dr right now feel like it think like it

Stop looking for shifting advice on tiktok you don’t need it you have shifted. Stop looking at “i know why you haven’t shifted” posts those don’t refer to u

[neoplatinum]

til' death do us part - part 1 | minatozaki sana

summary: sana minatozaki walks right into your life with a marriage license.

pairing: heiress!sana x reader

themes: arranged marriage au, fluff, angst, tension, lots of elitism, conglomerate power-hungry side characters, implied sex

wc: 5.0k

(series masterlist)

"the minatozaki's are waiting." you stare at the contract in front of you, frustrated at the idea of the family visiting. they sent the contract to you two weeks ago, and you knew that they were expecting a response, as in a signature. but here lays the contract on your coffee table, left to collect dust.

"let them in." you sit up from the couch, adjusting your shirt. you watch the maid let them in, timed steps in the long marble hallway. you hear their presence before you see them. then you see the matriarch of the minatozaki family step into the room. her head held high and proper, like a leader.

she reminds you of your own mother: the sharp tongue, quick judgements, and inability to let go of grudges.

then walks in sana minatozaki, the only heiress of the minatozaki group. she is not a stranger at all, but you havent decided if she is a friend or foe. when you were both younger, annual balls were centered around her. she always took those events in stride, while you enjoyed sticking by your mother's side.

you often remember watching sana dancing with anyone who would ask her; even from afar, you knew she was someone that everyone awed at. they treated her attention like a prize worth attaining.

"hello mrs. minatozaki and ms. minatozaki, please have a seat." you direct them to sit on the opposing couch. "how may i help you?"

they both get situated while you sit by yourself, feeling the weight of the minatozaki power firsthand. you watch your staff rushing to present them with tea, only for the two to dismiss them quickly.

"yes, we sent over a contract earlier last week, please sign it." the matriach points at the contract on your table.

"yes well, it is a marriage contract, a legally binding one. i need time to think it through."

"what is there to think through? you get to marry into the minatozaki group, and solidify your business with the backings of our family, i see no reason that it's empty now."

you frown at that, those were the exact words your own father told you over the phone, you called him immediately after receiving the contract, he told you the same exact thing, ending the call immediately after.

you dont disagree with the benefits, you would just rather marry someone else. someone that you could be in love with, not sana minatozaki.

"mrs. minatozaki, as much as i understand the power and backing of your family. i am rather old-fashioned. i only believe in marriage out of love." you nod solemnly to the older woman.

she lets out a trained laugh and holds her daughter's hands like they're her prize and tool. "love? you don't think that you could love my daughter?"

"mrs. minatozaki, i didn't mean it in that way-"

"so, what way did you mean it? my daughter sana," you say, watching as her daughter stands up from the couch, tall and proud, just like her mother, and smiling at you in that coy smile. "she has a line of suitors far longer than you could imagine; you should reconsider."

"mrs. minatozaki' please if i may-"

she holds her palm up, completely stopping you from speaking. "enough. here's what we're going to do: a three-month commitment. truly court my daughter for three months, and if you can honestly tell me you aren't in love with her, then i won't bother you with this matter for any longer."

"mrs. minatozaki, i think this is a completely archaic idea!" you exclaim, shocked to hear her say these plans. how quick she is to decide for her daughter's life.

"watch your tone. do not forget that your mother and I are well acquainted." she points her finger at you, and in a split second, she's back to that trained smile that is always so unnerving and threatening.

"i'm very sorry mrs. mintatozaki, please forgive my rudeness." you bow deeply at the woman. you return to your trained demeanor, letting mrs. minatozaki run your life for the next three months. who knows what she'll say to your mother if you decline?

both women get up promptly at the matriarch's signal, and you rush to walk them out of the manor. their resounding footsteps echo through the halls. the matriarch continues speaking of the three months of "dating," and you nod at every word in appeasement.

you assist them into their car, and soon they speed away from your manor. leaving you frustrated in your own driveway. by the time the sun has set, you finally return to your room.

--

the thought doesn't bother you anymore, while you were nervous at the idea of the minatozaki's pressing you on this marriage, you had gotten way too swamped with work.

in a week's time since the visit, you were giving a big presentation to shareholders and clientele. countless nights spent languidly going through the motions of collecting data for infographics and reports to extrapolate data. all part of your stressful day job.

a job that you take pride in, to take over the family business. dedicating years of your life to build the rapport needed for your father to put the company in your name.

you begin to wrap up on your final slide, indicating the prosperous quarter that your company has been seeing. beautiful graphics that display profit margins through the roofs. in every chair of that conference room sat a wide smile at your future projections.

"we expect to see a projection of 33% from our previous annual profits, along with more assets, and with the likes of a possible acquisition, this company will continue to flourish. thank you all for today." you conclude your presentation and smile to the many shareholders. they all stand and applaud you; you take a deep bow and shake hands.

the shareholders hound you, all gathered around in suits that costed more than the average house. they only bowed to the sound of money dropping into their pockets. so they push you, push your boundaries of how much you'll let them take.

mr. seki has always been the most persistent, asking for more money than he knew how to spend. so he stands before you, eyes twinkling and his grubby hands rubbing together like he found a gold mine.

you listen to him speak of the golden days with your father, business had little to regulations, making money was easier than breathing, but now he breaths down your neck for bonuses. the words travel in one ear and out the other, he forgets that you were a young child listening in to his discussions with your father.

before you know it, you hear that sharp clicking sound, the sound of sharp hard rubber hitting the tiled floor, you hear heels. short confident steps of a woman, and then you see it through the frosted glass, a womanly figure.

she's walking right into the conference room. then you notice the details: long brunette hair in waves, branded sunglasses atop her nose, a light pink suit adorned with blinding diamonds. behind her are bodyguards that tower over everyone. everyone's conversation stops at the sight of her, she stops right in front of you.

eyes strong and daring, she slips off her glasses and you recognize her, the woman of all your friend's dreams: sana minatozaki. more confident than ever, not being guided by her mother, she smiles that smile that you know your friends swoon over. delicate fingers slip off her glasses as she hands them to her assistant. eyes still focused on yours.

then she does it, grabs ahold of your tie, and slams her lips against yours. and you can hear it faintly, the sound of the shareholders all gasping, drowned out by the sound of your own heartbeat. the searing kiss lasts so long, like a time loop. when she pulls back, you gasp for air, choking and doubling over coughing like you inhaled chili powder. all your presentation material spilling on the ground.

"sorry to cut the festivities short, gentlemen." she bows lightly, an amused smile underlying her sarcasm. "my fiancé and i have things to attend to, i'm sure you know how demanding your wife can be". she giggles at that, letting them all nod, and disperse.

"fiancé?" you cough out, still catching your breath. sana grabs ahold of your hand and drags you out the conference room, and out to the elevators. you watch her two bodyguards at your feet, ready to intervene with broad and thick builds.

they remind you much of your father's bodyguards. but you never wanted them because it just felt so unnatural to be followed by men who protected you.

sana stands before the elevator, and without missing a beat walks in, at the sound of the door opening. you get pulled by the two bodygaurds into the box. now you stand next to a smirking sana and two men who could break your spine ten times over.

you exit into the lobby, all the staff rising to their feet at the sight of you and miss minatozaki. greeting you all, as you rush to follow after sana. you have a sinking feeling if you don't that those two men behind you are going to toss you right into the ocean. right outside of the lobby, is the sight of the signature black marked sedan. a true sign of a minatozaki. like the fortress of a family, this car is far than capable of withstanding a nuke, how true this statement is? you never want to know.

sana is quick to sit herself inside, being guided by her chaffeur. you nod to him before sitting inside, seperated by the middle seat. the door closes and suddenly you feel claustrophobic.

the last time you spoke to sana was years ago, back in law school, you never did like her clique but they were everywhere. so you have interacted with her through case studies and presentations, steering clear of the intimidating minatozaki group. so much for avoiding them, now you're stuck in a car with the exact person you were avoiding all your life.

"mother is furious." she comments, grabbing her heels off her feet, tucking them into a compartment. you stare at her for a while, confused with what she means. "well?"

"miss minatozaki, i thin-"

"sana. just sana please." she corrects you.

"miss sana, please, you cannot barge into my shareholder meetings and attack me like that. that was unacceptable on all levels." you continue. loosening the tie that felt like it was choking you when she grabbed it. you slip it off your neck and into your pocket.

"i thought mother made it clear her expectations. you sign that marriage license, and we're good." she continues to correct you, disregarding your frustrations.

"sana. i apologize but i have been swamped with work, i cannot even begin to think about marriage." you complain.

"work? you marry into the minatozaki group and you'll never lift a finger. those infographics you put together were cute, but the minatozaki's never put themselves through work they can pass off to others. marry in, and we'll find a suitable ceo the second you say so." she is everything you stand against, a figurehead as the ceo is the last thing you want for your budding company.

"i think you are mistaken, miss sana. this company is me, i am this company, that will not change if i marry into the minatozaki group." you don't waver for a second, conviction running through your blood.

she smiles at that, "you are one of those. the ones that are married to their work before anything else." she takes a second to contemplate this thought, what would you bring to the minatozaki group? profit, drama, not a headache that's for sure.

"i'm going to let you in on a secret," she leans her head towards you. "like how you are married to your work, i am married to wealth. doesn't matter if you have a million mistresses, or a thousand bastard babys. as long as you don't smear the minatozaki name, you will fit right in."

"i do not think so miss sana. the minatozaki's are adamant about blood purity, they don't let bastards live." you explain. she smirks at that, you've clearly done your research about the minatozaki clan. "miss sana, please, me marrying into your family would not beneficial to you. i am too concerned with my own self to be a pawn for your clan." you finish, hoping they will let this issue to rest.

"you seem to know a lot about our family for someone who isn't interested marrying in." her eyebrow shoots up and with the snap of a finger, the bodyguard hands her a manila folder through the slit of the window.

"once again, we urge you to sign this. i hope we become lifelong partners, fiancé." she winks and steps out of the car. speaking to the chauffeur, and soon you're being driven by the minatozaki car, another car ready for sana in an instant.

now you're left with a manila folder, weighing heavier than anything else in the world. when you are sit in your armchair with the manila folder, nursing a nice drink to unwind, you finally untie the manila folder. opening the contents, you find the same contract on your coffee table. signed with sana's signature in the bottom, and another paper.

in a written letter from your own father, you nearly crumple the paper in your own hand. the clauses of placing your company in the hands of your father, all shareholder signatures at the bottom. indicating the removal of power. in another line it reads in big bold letters, date sana for three months or your company will be absorbed by your father.

you call up your father.

"father, this is ridiculous, you cannot do this to my company. why are you meddling now?"

"you insolent child, given the opportunity to grow your business, you choose instead to be selfish? i present to you the opportunity of a lifetime: marriage into the minatozaki group. and i've been told you're pushing their patience." his deep voice rumbles into the phone. "my final words are these: you want your company so bad, prove that you are committed to the minatozakis, then i will transfer the power back." he firmly states.

"i don't even have the time, father. my schedule is busy with the new year and final changes with new clientele."

"i've already spoken to your assistant, all work for you the next three months have been transferred to my coo. he will take over for the time being, i trust him to run my own company, so don't you go spouting nonsense about his credibility." you bite your tongue at the sight. how dare your father meddle in your company? one that you built up with your own hands. the only piece of yourself that wasn't controlled by your father.

"do not forget who raised you. i can take everything away." his voice booms through the speakers. he ends the phone call there. and you throw that phone like a baseball, shattering the device into pieces.

--

so you do date sana for three months, finding it absolutely absurd in the beginning. often visiting her wherever she traveled. when she was busy, you would send out bouquets in your absence. you tried your best to date her, devoting time to getting to know her better. she's like you remembered when you were younger, loud rambunctious and had an eye for all things expensive. you spent trips all over the globe within those three months.

it's a strange feeling. letting yourself rest, you can't remember the last time you went on a vacation other than in law school. here you are, lying in a lounge chair on a private beach in santorini. drinking mai tais while you stare into the horizon. confused with your own life right now.

it should've been the merger. you get antsy just at the idea of your father's coo leading the merger, but what can you do. that company is not "yours" right now. while you are trying to enjoy the sight of the bright sun and clear waters, you watch out of the corner of your eye as sana flirts openly with a resort worker.

hand on his bicep, leaning in to show more cleavage, all the while keeping a sultry smile on her face. you're done letting your life be decided for you. you walk over.

"hi honey, how is it going?" you smile towards her, leaning in for a quick kiss. holding her neck in place, as you watch the man walk away. you let her go.

"jealous?" she smirks.

"no. i need answers." you sit down in front of her. "why me?"

"what do you mean why me?" she sips on her cosmopolitan, not provoked by the question.

"why marry me? my father is well known, but we are not a conglomerate group, why do you wish to marry me? i provide nothing to the minatozaki group, it doesn't make sense. there's the watanabe clan, the abe clan, the ito clan. i really don't understand why my family."

"it's not your father or his companies, it's you." she points at you. still sipping her drink. she doesn't skip a beat, no hesitation in her words.

"i hold no power on the world stage, you would be well off marrying any clan." you try reasoning with her, beyond perplexed on why she chose you.

"the watanabe clan are dirty: plagued with dirty lust, the abe clan are ruthless killers, the ito clan has been known to kill their woman. so tell me, how much better off i will be marrying them?" she continues. face hardened.

"i see...they are not as great as their name." you stare at her. less perplexed but definitely confused.

"we all grew up together, all the heirs, i know them better than they know themselves. and i do not like what i see. but you and i didn't speak to each other." she signals for another cosmopolitan, thanking the staff member and digging through her bag. pulling out photos of you two when you were children at the annual balls.

"you are worlds better than all of them combined. i could see it in the way you never vied for my attention. they all were intact dogs, hoping to hump something by the end of the night."

"sorry for the assumptions," you offer. the way she looks away from you, watching the ocean. and letting out a long and heavy sigh. she tucks the photos away. "so, marriage out of convenience? is that all this is?"

"yes." she nods.

you grab the contract from your bag, signing it in front of her. and then placing it in her hands, "to a happy marriage sana minatozaki, i hope you can handle my snoring." you laugh.

she grins at the contract, and tucks it into her bag. "then i hope you can handle my kicking. you groan jokingly and laugh loudly, her joining you.

--

minatozaki weddings were no joke. halls lined with marble pillars with gold accents. dishes made out of the finest and purest porecelin. waiters dressed in their finest, not a single hair out of place. global leaders and their children attending, even if they had no ties to the minatozaki.

the grandiose hall with beautiful mirrors dating centuries ago. recovered artifacts from the edo period, adorning the shelves. the giant minatozaki family crest on the back wall. with long tables lined with wedding gifts. you stand next to sana as the reception procession continues into the night. many notable figures congratulating the marriage. as well as the intricate gifts being handed off to you. each gift being placed and documented by the minatozaki security team.

the minatozakis look happy, wearing traditional kimonos and inviting all the guests to talk about their daughters marriage.

even though the place is filled with laughter and happiness, you can't help but feel like you just entered a loveless marriage. where you are destined to avoid sana, she smiles at everyone, showering in the attention, while you can't wait to get back to work.

--

you had explained to sana you wanted a quiet honeymoon, one that was peaceful and relaxing. so you both went puglia, to enjoy the rich Italian culture and the beautiful greens and blues of the water.

sana spent nearly ever second of the day buying herself clothes while enjoying pestering you. often times dragging you along to carry her bags, and be at her beck and call. she calls it "conditioning for a happy marriage." you had rolled your eyes when you heard it, but you wanted a happy marriage too so you complied.

now you stand in the middle of puglia, taking photos of sana, at her request. for the third time that day.

"how many photos do you need sana?"

"as many as i want. stop talking, more clicking!" you get back to taking photos and letting her enjoy the scenery. it's quite nice being with sana, she may be a bit high maintenance, but she doesn' t overstep when it comes to your boundaries. letting you enjoy your own alone time and venturing through the city alone.

sometimes you bring back flowers or a small gift to her, all of which she happily enjoys with a warm smile.

--

after the honeymoon, its back to the real world. in which your father happily returned the company back to you. the merger had been successful, but you're still catching up on paperwork that only you could sign. in the coming months, sana has moved in.

living together has become a routine. when she moved into your manor, she claimed it was a nice change from her home. you were confused because her house was far more amenities, but you let her move in.

so, every morning and night, you spend time with her, sleeping in the same bed, drinking the same coffee, and sitting at the same dining table. you don't share more than a few words with her, but her presence has become a nice addition to your life.

she's made herself comfortable, her makeup products all lining your sink, heels filling the floor of the closet. her closet so big that she ordered construction to build her own walk-in.

often times you see her out lounging in the sun room doing yoga or pilates. or when she's in a good mood, she'll join you in your study room to do work herself.

she goes out at night frequently, so you make it a habit to stay up until she gets home. you know she's protected and safe with her trained bodyguards and chauffeur.

it just brings you a sense of comfort to bring her inside in case she's unwell. some nights she gets home with love bites all over her body, other nights she comes home drunk falling into your arms. you never comment on it.

she comments on your life first.

"do you...have someone special in your life?" she asks with a glass of wine in hand. you look up from your table, eyeing her in the doorframe.

"no, i'm married to my job." you look back at the work laid out for you, pushing glasses back up the bridge of your nose.

"have you slept with a woman before?" you stop your work, putting the pen down.

"sana, are we asking about each other's sex lives now?"

"well i can be curious, cant i? you always look so proper." she walks in to sit by you.

"well, yes in the past i have." you comment, a little thrown off with the line of questions. she nods her head and gives you her wine, you sip it and place it on the desk. "why do you ask?"

"we've never consummated our marriage, don't you think it's time?" she leans over, eyeing the work on your paper.

"what happened to marriage out of convenience?"

"marriage out of convenience could mean we're sex partners out of convenience," she smirks. she stands up, pushing the paper off to the side. you raise your eyebrow, trying to get her to stop messing with your work.

"sana."

"yes?" she takes the glasses off your face. a coy smile on her lips.

"we don't have to do this."

"i want to. do you?" she stands in your way, eyes trained on yours. a playful smile on her face. you get up to set your mind straight, no way were you sleeping with your non-wife.

"sana, please, you must be drunk." you walk past her, calling out to staff. "hi, could you please assist sana to bed." sana scoffs at you, flipping you off and pushing past the maid.

you return to your desk, eyebrows pushed together and a headache forming. but you can feel that spike in your stomach, you're sexually frustrated.

--

you've been actively avoiding being too close with sana. whenever she circles around, you scoot further away. opting for open spaces where she won't make sexual advances. rejecting her isn't fun either, she gets all pouty about it, but the way she makes you feel lately, has been dangerous. so you try your best to exercise restraint.

in the coming weeks it's harder and harder. some days she visits with your dress shirts tucked into a pencil skirt. walking in like a wet dream into your office. you will yourself to have self control but you can feel it slipping. the way you want to grab her, feel her skin under your fingertips, wanting to wrap around her.

today she manages to get under your skin. "darling, you must be so tired." she slides behind you. and starts massaging your shoulders, pressing the knots away.

you let her, feeling the tension release from your shoulders. her hands move expertly, and soon you feel more relaxed than ever. her hands begin to wander, sliding over your torso and frame. you turn to look at her, playful eyes staring back at you. you pull her into your lap, grabbing her neck for a kiss.

"i think it would be rather impolite of me to have our first time here in my office. maybe later?" you offer, playing with her pencil skirt.

"i don't care where we do it, as long as we do it now." she smirks and plays with your hair. you pull her up and place her atop your desk. walking quickly to close the door and drop the blinds.

she laughs when push her back, back hitting the desk, and then you lean over her. giving her a long kiss, before sliding your hands up her legs.

"come take what yours." she grins. you begin unbuttoning her shirt, hands trailing down until they reach her hips.

you kiss her fervently, moving towards her like a magnet. "yes miss minatozaki."

--

you might have to label yourself a sex addict, maybe a sana minatozaki addict actually. after sleeping with sana, you can't keep your hands off of her. often messaging her and taking days off to be around her.

it's unlike you, so unfocused and nonchalant about work. but you can't help it, sana feels like a drug and you need your supply. so here you are in your study, trying to clean up the smell of sex before your mother-in-law arrives. sana's an absolute vixen and trying to coax you into another round, but you know at any second her mother will walk into the house like its her own.

you spray a scent over top of the room urgently before closing the door behind you. a clingy sana kissing you deeply, trying so very hard to get you in bed with her.

"sana, no. your mother will be here any second." you force yourself to be the bad guy, pulling her arms off of you. to which she flicks your forehead.

"sana!" the sound of her voice booming like it's through a speakerphone. sana immediately tenses up, posture straight like a board.

"hi mother."

"glad to see you still recognize me." her mother chastises her. you watch the two woman, and you stay quiet. letting sana speak to her mother in a hushed tone, while you stand nearby.

it's hard to get a gauge on sana's mother, she's fierce and demanding. you also can't tell if she likes you, she keeps her distance. but you also can't tell if that's a good or bad thing. oftentimes she shows up requesting your presence at her events. but you play the part well as much as you can.

the older woman walks towards your living room, where she was months ago, and requesting you to marry her daughter. now she moves around your home like it's her own.

"now that you two have been happily married, it's important to discuss the next step." she starts. "we need heirs, multiple."

you and sana look at each other in horror.

"sana was the only heir in her generation of minatozaki's, i need you two to produce more than a single heir. to protect the minatozaki clan." she states firmly.

you groan into your hands, horrified at the conversation. and for the first time you see the matriach smile as she shows off photos of sana as a baby, cute as a button.

it does make you wonder about having a little sana running around, so you take the conversation topic in stride. letting the matriarch discuss traditions, schooling, extracurriculars and education to maintain the minatozaki standard.

sana is horrified to hear all this from her mother, but when she leaves, a light bulb turns on in her brain. then she smiles at you in that knowing smile.

"honey, come on, you heard my mother. we have to produce heirs. you know what that means?" then she wiggles her eyebrows as she drags you upstairs.

and you let her.

--

a/n: sana, sana, sana. she's been plaguing my mind recently. hope you enjoyed, proofreading is difficult work so i didn't do it. stay safe and stay healthy everyone!

[hiraethwrote]

just come home pt. 3 - satoru gojo

[ satoru gojo - f!reader ]

✧ summary: attending the same event, emotions are running high between you and satoru ✧ cw: angst, fluff, arguing, jealousy, some cursing, creative liberties in the sense of like world and story yk, random character i ended up naming (we dont like him) ✧ word count: 4.9k

part 1 - part 2 - part 3

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— 13 months ago —

You didn’t dare peer your eyes off the phone, just waiting to hear your ringtone chime threw the kitchen. The tapping of your foot against the floor filled the room until Satoru eventually placed a comforting hand on your knee, containing some of the bouncing.

“There’s no reason to worry! You’re going to get it.” The sweet tone of his voice was much appreciated, but you did not let yourself fully believe him.

A long and shaky breath left you in hopes of it calming you down, but to no success. There wasn’t any particular reason for you to be this nervous; the interview went well, you were more than qualified and there wasn’t necessarily a lot of competition for the position. However, you really wanted it, and would rather go in with low expectations and be positively surprised.

The nerves were winning no matter how hard you tried to smother them, anxiously taking the tip of your thumb between your teeth. Satoru, without hesitation, pulled your hand away, intertwining his fingers with yours to hinder your bad habit.

“Hey,” he grabbed your attention, turning to look at him. His finger traveled tenderly across your cheek before tucking a piece of hair behind your ear, so much compassion in his look. “It’s alright.” You managed to give him a weak smile, leaning into his touch.

Both of you jumped at the sound of your phone ringing, interrupting the stressful silence. Satoru jumped up, shaking your shoulders vigorously as he urged you to answer the phone. Picking up the phone, you shushed him resulting in him slapping his hands over his mouth in order to stop his excited rambling. Finally you gathered up the courage to answer the dreaded phone call.

“Hello,” you spoke softly, hiding your nervousness.

“Good day, is this Miss y/l/n?” a kind voice spoke on the other side of the line.

“This is she.” There was no way you’d be able to sit still waiting for whether you got the job or not. You rose from the chair and started pacing around the room.

Satoru was growing more and more impatient of the answer, his eyes following your every step. While he was as stressed as you, he stood there admiring you as well. Because every single muscle and joint in your body was tense with nerves, but your tone was utterly steady.

Still choking back his excitement, he was desperately trying to deduce what was being said on the phone because you gave him nothing to go on. Whatever was said on the other side, you just nodded along, answering in short statements— yes, no, I understand.

“Yes, thank you. Goodbye.” Finally you hung up, suspense filling the room. Looking at your boyfriend, who put his hands out in front of him, was waiting for the answer.

“So?”

“I got the job!”

“You got the job,” he repeated before you ran at him and launched into his arms, embracing him tightly with both arms and legs. His strong arms wrapped around your back just as tight, securing you in the hug. “I knew you’d get it! Never doubted a second,” he said in between the many kisses he placed on your cheek. He began to spin around, a series of giggles and squeals escaping you.

“‘Toru, I’m getting dizzy,” you managed to get out. Eventually he stopped, carefully putting you down before cupping your face lovingly and placing a deep kiss on your lips.

“My beautiful, brilliant, wonderful girlfriend,” he gushed. There was a sparkle in his eyes as he studied every inch of your face, a sparkle he only had looking at you. “This ought to have a celebration.”

“That’s not necessary. It’s just a job.”

“Just a-“ he cut himself off with a dramatic huff. “Listen to her. It’s just a job. Ridiculous. You deserve a celebration to match this milestone.” Only Satoru was able to make something as mundane as getting a job seem like the most important event. “Your word is my command. Whatever you want, and I’ll fix it.”

“Order takeout?” You suggested sweetly before he planted a gentle kiss on the tip of your nose.

“I give you the opportunity to have anything you want, and you just want to order food?”

“I don’t have a need to celebrate all that much. Just want to spend the evening with you,” you spoke softly before embracing him and resting your head on his chest, closing your eyes and taking in his warmth.

You knew once you told your friends about the job, they’d throw together a party in your honour and you would gladly accept. But right now, what you wanted was just to stay in with Satoru, wearing your pyjamas, eat some food that wasn’t good for you and watch a movie.

“Only thing that could make this better is if you came to teach alongside me. I mean, imagine sharing lunch together.” His arms wrapped around you again, resting his head on top of yours.

“Me too, darling. But you know it’s not really up to me.”

“Yeah, because your school sucks. All that exclusive bullshit.” His chest vibrated with a soft chuckle, a smile growing on your face as a response.

“Couldn’t agree more.”

— present day —

The day you accepted the invitation to the conference, you were beyond excited. It would be a great opportunity to meet other teachers, share techniques and experiences. You hadn’t really been a teacher for long, so you felt it would do you good. But that seemed like a lifetime ago, two weeks before the breakup.

With both you and Satoru working within education, you knew he had gotten the same invitation. But you had no clue if he had accepted it or not, meaning you risked running into him there.

Seven weeks had passed since you’d bumped into him at the supermarket, and in that period, some sort of communication had been re-established. He sent a lot of texts throughout the day, most of them left on read. Regardless of that, he had been right that there were a lot of unsaid things between you that might need airing out. So even though you still hadn’t agreed to meet up with him, you sent him a short reply every once in a while to let him know you weren’t completely unreachable.

This was, of course, to your friends great frustration. They never sugarcoated how absolutely infuriated they were by the entire situation and did not think he deserved to hear a single word from you. But they didn’t seem to understand those small texts you sent him gave you a sense of comfort as he didn’t seem so far away from you anymore. In one way, you could say it numbed some of the pain.

Your thoughts were pulled away from Satoru when a soft buzz came from your purse.

Ren: I’m outside in five minutes :)

“Urgh.” The reaction to the text you received was entirely involuntary, but you couldn’t help it. Ren wasn’t even a bad guy, he was just a lot. He was a colleague of yours, who had been trying to get your attention ever since you started working at the school. Satoru had teased you about it endlessly, finding his work crush on you incredibly funny.

“I think I have to meet this Ren.” And once he had gotten that idea, there was no stopping him. Therefore you weren’t all that surprised when one day he showed up at your school during lunch, with his charm turned up to the max. He’d strutted right up to you, who at the time just so happened to be in a conversation with poor Ren. Satoru hadn’t hesitated to throw his arm across your shoulders and placing a kiss on the side of your head. “Had a few minutes, thought I’d come say hi.”

All the colour had instantly been drained from Ren’s face at the sight of Satoru. Ren was definitely aware of the existence of your boyfriend, though he had no idea what he looked like. So with his impressive 6’3” and striking looks, he could appear intimidating. Even more so, when he confidently reached out his hand to introduce himself to Ren.

It didn’t take long for your colleague to come up with a lame excuse to leave. “You’re mean,” you’d sighed in frustration once he was too far away to hear you.

“What?” He was playing dumb, not even trying to hide the fact that his lips were curving into a smile. “I had to check out my competition.”

“And?” You asked curiously, hating that you wanted to know his verdict.

“Ain’t even worried.” Playfully you pushed him away from you, rolling your eyes at how extremely cocky he was. He hummed satisfied, with his hands in his pockets, giving you one last kiss before he had to leave again.

Somehow, Ren had become aware of your breakup. So about a week ago, he’d called you up and asked if you’d like to attend the conference together. Of course it was just your luck that you were hanging out with your friends when he had called, the same friends that hated Satoru at the moment. They practically gave you no choice but to accept.

Attending with your colleague was another reason you hoped Satoru had declined the invitation. He had never been the jealous type, but he had never had a reason to be either. You were nervous if he was to be there, he’d be unable to stop himself from throwing some passive aggressive comment at Ren and he’d be too scared to defend himself.

The knock on your door startled you back into reality, bracing yourself to face him. Opening the door, his face lit up at the sight of you, a boyish charm to his expression.

“Hi,” he said with a small nod. Before you were able to respond, he stretched out his hand where he held one single rose.

“Oh— thank you.” A ripple of guilt hit you hard of how you couldn’t even fake a believable sincerity. “That’s so kind of you.”

You had held onto a naive hope that Ren had invited you purely on friendly terms, but the rose in your hand was a sign that wasn’t the case. He thought of this as a date, and another bang of guilt hit you. This one concerning Satoru.

Nearly three months since you’d left him, but it still felt like such a betrayal. For two years you’d been his, and he yours. That was how it was supposed to be, and how you always thought it would end. Not to mention that it was just too soon. You did not want to go on a date, freshly out of a committed relationship you thought was going to be the one.

But you put on a brave face and tried to give Ren a genuine smile. “Shall we go then?”

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Satoru was seething.

Never had he been happier to wear his sunglasses so no one could see the pure anger that was radiating in his eyes. Even though he wanted to look away in order to not torture himself, there was no way of that happening. He would not let your colleague make any kind of move on you, especially if he could help it.

It wasn’t until the event had been moved to the after party in the hotel ballroom he had spotted you. Resting his gaze upon you, he felt as the rest of the room disappeared, only one single spotlight illuminating you. His world calmed down at the sight of you, as if every confusing thing in his life was resolved.

Losing your presence in his life had turned it upside down in all the wrong ways, realising how much he had truly depended on you. Not because you actively did all that much for him, but by simply just existing as a consistent in his life he felt safe. You never judged him, never complained, always tried to see things from his perspective and overall being the rock he needed.

He felt truly at peace for the first time in a long time as he sized you up, head to toe, wearing the dress he had bought you for your first anniversary dinner. As always, he found you absolutely breathtaking, wondering how he ever managed to score you in the first place.

When a small hand landed on your bare shoulder, his peaceful fantasy shattered instantly. He nearly spat out his drink when he saw who the hand belonged to, Ren ogling you with pure adoration. Eventually he knew he’d have no choice but intervene, even though causing a scene would do him no favours whatsoever.

Satoru could clearly tell you were uncomfortable, with your arms loosely wrapped around yourself and picking the skin around your fingernails. Usually, when he noticed you doing one of your bad habits, he instinctively intervened. Every bone in his body wanted to walk over and grab your hand in order for you to stop, reassuring you that everything was alright.

His agitation only grew seeing Ren happily chat you up, when he wasn’t allowed to. And you, being as kind as you were, tried your very best to pay attention to whatever story he was telling, chuckling and smiling. But Satoru knew you’d rather be anywhere else than here.

Suddenly the tone of your conversation changed, as he observed Ren now served a worried expression. The next second he was taking off his blazer, carefully placing it over your shoulders even though you politely tried to object.

That’s it. How was he supposed to stand and watch some other guy do the things he was supposed to do? Swiftly, Satoru made his way through the crowd, doing his best not to bump into anyone in his small frenzy.

While Ren instantly froze when he realised who had approached, you wore a confused expression. “Satoru?” It slipped out of you weakly, your eyebrows narrowed at his sudden appearance.

“Fancy seeing you guys here!” He sounded so chipper, presenting himself with a gloating smile. Ren shot you a nervous glance, desperately needing you to give him any sort of hint on how to deal with the abrupt company of your ex-boyfriend. You weren’t to much help, only scowling at Satoru, in utter disbelief at the audacity he had to just storm right up to you.

Clearing his throat, he captured Satoru’s attention again. He could see how Ren was finding every ounce of courage to shake off his insecurities. “Good to see you again.”

“Yeah, you too.”

“Y/n told me you were a teacher.” A faux smile appeared on Satoru’s face, a displeased reaction to how Ren had a newfound confidence all of a sudden. Even though he was very much still nervous, he wasn’t as fragile as the first time Satoru had met him. Seeing Ren try and put on a brave face, most likely to impress you, only aggravated him more.

“I sure am.” He turned his head back to you, not surprised to see that your uncomfortable stance had shifted into fury. Fire in your eyes as they were drilling into him with your arms crossed over your chest.

Satoru was already mentally kicking himself for his selfish stunt when it sunk in exactly how irritated you were. He could see you were resisting the temptation to actually wrap your hands around his throat in animosity, yet he himself softened at the sight of you. He couldn’t help it, you had that affect on him naturally.

“What are you doing?” You asked through gritted teeth.

“Thought it would be rude not to come over and say hi.” What you’d feared would happen was actually about to take place in front of you. Of course some part of you had secretly wanted to have an excuse to talk to Satoru, but this wasn’t the way you wanted it to go down. You shouldn’t be too surprised however, as it wasn’t unusual for his dumb pride to get in the way.

“Oh, you did, didn’t you? Funny,” you sneered in response, hating how he was making you talk like this to him. Licking his lips, Satoru forced his gaze back to Ren who was probably contemplating everything.

“So, did you two come here together or?”

“Satoru, don’t!” You said sternly, but he kept staring at Ren.

He swallowed the lump in his throat and dared put his hand on your upper back. In the corner of his eyes, Satoru saw your desire to flinch away from his touch, but stopped yourself. “We did actually.”

“Lovely. Bet you brought her flowers as well?”

“Satoru,” you tried to intervene again, feeling extremely sorry for Ren, stuttering madly, trying so hard not to let himself be humiliated.

“Y-yeah, I-“

“Roses, right?” Ren nodded weakly. “Big mistake, she doesn’t like those.”

“Hey!” You’d had enough, finally stepping in assertively and grabbing Satoru’s wrist which instantly shut him up. Snapping his head back at you, he glared at you in awe, all signs of his jealousy gone. “Get it together!”

Over his sunglasses he made eye contact with you, letting his now mild glare flitter between your eyes. Your heart skipped a beat, just like it used to before.

“I’m so sorry,” you said to Ren when you finally managed to avert your gaze from Satoru. “Let me just-“ you couldn’t find the right words to excuse yourself, so you just whispered another apology before forcefully pulling Satoru after you.

Whispering small profanities under your breath, your grip on Satoru turned your knuckles white. Feeling like everyone’s eyes were on you, rushing through the crowd with the giant of a man at your heels. A sigh of relief left you once you’d gotten you both into a deserted hallway, instantly letting go of his wrist.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

His lips twitched, like a he was holding back a frustrated smile. “Come on. I couldn’t just stand there and watch his sorry attempt at hitting on you.” His shoulders raised as if he was in the right, that his actions were within reason.

“Don’t give me that! You embarrassed the shit out of him. You embarrassed me!”

This conversation was unlike any you’d had before, considering you hadn’t been a couple that got very loud or sharp with each other on the rare occasions you even got into an argument. Usually, your arguments rooted in unimportant matters that resulted in the silent treatment from both sides until one of you realised exactly how silly you were acting. Whoever caved first would come crawling into the arms of the other before apologising profusely.

“But him, y/n? Really? The guy who’s been drooling all over you, even when we were still together.”

On one hand, Satoru’s frustration with Ren wasn’t unjustified. You’d also found Ren’s advances on you inappropriate, knowing you were taken. Nonetheless, neither of you had ever taken it seriously, well aware that he never stood a chance. Yet, Satoru’s behaviour was out of line.

With disgust written all over his face, he opened his mouth and continued his rant. “And then he makes tonight a date. The body isn’t even cold yet.”

“Satoru!” You watched him flinch at your outburst because of his tasteless comment.

It went without saying that Satoru was an incredibly kind soul, with a strong sense of what was right or wrong. Nevertheless, he could have a tendency to lash out with cruel jabs that always took you by surprise. You’d never been on the receiving end of his shots, but you would shut that down real quick.

“What if I was here with a date? Would you have liked it seeing me with another girl?”

“Of course not!” You answered, barely letting him finish before you fired back at him. “I cannot imagine anything worse, but I’d never approach you like you just did, and you know that!”

“You didn’t see the way he looked at you, y/n! It irked me. I mean, I’m-“ he cut himself off, a sharp breath leaving his nose. He didn’t know where to put all his agitated nerves, so he tried to contain it by shoving his hands in his pockets, his shoulders almost reaching his ears with tension.

“Go on.”

“I’m the only one who’s supposed to look at you like that.”

It didn’t take more to entirely change the atmosphere of the conversation, dropping your defences once his voice had calmed down.

“Yeah, I know,” you quietly agreed, matching his tone.

Silence washed over you, and you paid close attention to him as he removed his sunglasses to rub his eyes. He released a low, shaky exhale. Just when he was about to place them back in his nose, your body moved on its own accord, grabbing his wrist to stop him.

He looked exactly like you’d remembered, how you had permanently engraved him into your mind. Once he had dropped his jealous guard, you were reminded of how much you had yearned for the opportunity to look at him like this again. Every cell of your body was screaming for you to embrace him, like they would collapse if you did not receive his touch soon.

But once he blinked, the spell broke and you jerked your hand away, reminded of how it only hurt you because he wasn’t yours anymore.

“I never wanted to go with him,” you hesitated, taking a few steps back until you felt you back hit the wall behind you. “My friends kinda forced me to accept.”

A somber chuckle was heard from him, trying to seem steadfast, also leaning against the wall behind him.

“I guess they don’t like me very much.”

“Not exactly.” Your face was painted with the same sadness as Satoru’s. He had his head down, staring at his feet. You could see how the gears were turning in his head to figure out the best way to approach this.

“I miss you,” his said, trying to hide the fact that his voice cracked just a little. When he looked up again, you saw the sparkle in his eyes that you’d noticed so many times before. “Every day.”

“I miss you too,” you were only able to express in a light mumble, feeling the emotions about to take over you already.

“You wanna know one of the things I regret the most?” You simply nodded. “Not being able to say anything to you. That night I mean.”

You pressed your lips together to try and slow down the tears that were fighting their way to the surface. “It’s okay, Satoru.”

“No, it’s not okay,” he heaved as he was the first to break this time. “You spilled your guts about how much I was hurting you and I just stood there! Speechless!” He wept, taking you by surprise at how quickly he had started crying.

“It was a lot to take in. I put a lot of information on you at one time.” You tried your best to remain serene, knowing neither of you would be able to get anything helpful out of the conversation if you were both just teary wet messes.

“Stop doing that! Stop making excuses for me.” He frantically began to wipe his tears with the back of his hand, trying to steady his voice so he could continue. “As you said, I always have something to say. And the one time— the one time you needed me to talk, I couldn’t do it. I did not treat you according to how I feel about you and I truly am so insanely sorry, y/n!”

He’d spent every waking moment, and probably quite a few sleeping ones, pondering about everything that had went down and how it had ended here. Even though you were completely taken aback by how broken he looked, sobbing like an innocent child, a small part of you felt a sense of relief. You got some confirmation on the questions you’d been asking yourself.

Ever single day you’d wondered if he was as beaten up about it all as you, or if he had found it in himself to move on. If maybe he was even relieved to not have to deal with the stresses of a relationship anymore. But he was coming apart at the seams, his eyes red from the crying, desperately trying to gather himself again.

He took a deep breath in through the nose and out through the mouth before he spoke again. “And I want you to know I understand why you did what you did. I never deserved you I-“

“No, don’t say that,” you shot in, drawing his eyes to you again. “Ever!” You saw him swallow some of the sobs that were building up. Pushing yourself off the wall, you slowly walked up him, your body growing hotter the closer you got to him.

“I’m so sorry, y/n,” he said remorsefully, quiet tears falling down his cheeks. You didn’t have it in you anymore to just stand there and watch him cry without doing anything about it. Delicately, you dried them off his cheeks. “I wish I could have done things differently.”

“There’s not a day that goes by where I don’t think about you, Satoru.” You’re voice was barely a whisper, drenched in compassion.

He wanted a second chance, more than anything. But he was so afraid to ask, even though the question was restlessly waiting at the tip of his tongue. He knew he didn’t deserve it, and suggesting it would be nothing other than egotistical.

What he didn’t know was how fiercely you wanted him to ask, to fight for you. If there was one thing you truly wanted, it was to have him back in your life. To have him wake you of with featherlight strokes on you back again. The evenings where he did come home, you’d both stand in the kitchen together trying to prep a proper meal only for him to make a mess of everything. Walking down the streets, his protective arm draped over you shoulder as he so proudly showed you off. Every small and big aspect of the relationship you wanted back.

With your eyes, you tried to beg him to cross that line and ask you to be his again. The time you’d spent apart had been nothing but pain for the both of you, but it had definitely put things in perspective.

Please ask me.

He was staring deep into your eyes, and you knew if there was one person in the entire universe who would be able to know what you were thinking, it was him.

“Is there any chance of us being together again?” The small question made you fill your lungs with a deep breath of relief.

“Yes.”

Without thinking, he leaned forward and rested his forehead against yours like it was second nature to him. You couldn’t help but form a harmonious smile.

Finally the whirlwind that had run rampant in his mind for the past few months, settled. A mixture of sob and chuckle slipped out of Satoru, as he didn’t quite know where to put himself. Though this was what he had hoped for, he hadn’t really expected it.

“But,” you broke the comfortable silence, pulling away even though you didn’t want to. “It cannot be how it was.”

“I know!” He hurried to say the second the sentence had left you. “I’ll quit if I have to. And three’s a crowd, Suguru and Shoko are better as duo anyways.” You instantly began to giggle at his erratic statements and it was music to his ears.

“Satoru, I’m not asking you to stop living your life.” His heart fluttered at the sound of your voice speaking his name with so much love.

“No, I know. But I’d be willing to do it, just so you know.” A tiny smile had made its way onto his face as well, though his eyes still showed so many signs of crying. Carefully, waiting for you to stop him, he cupped your face. “I just have one request.”

“Alright?”

“Can you please take off that damn jacket?” It wasn’t until he mentioned it you remembered you were still wearing Ren’s jacket. He didn’t have to hear you answer, the chuckle playing on your lips was all he needed to brush it off your shoulders. “I think I might have to burn it.”

“Be nice.” His hand quickly went back to your face and he daringly began to lean closer. At last, his lips crashed into yours, after what had felt like an eternity.

Satoru was so grateful for the second chance he had been giving, and he had no plans of screwing it up now. All that time apart, he had only become absolutely certain a life without you in it wasn't one he wanted. He would do everything in his power to keep it that way, whatever the cost.

And the kiss told you everything you needed to know. It felt like a promise, that from now on everything would be okay. You weren't even scared he woul ever let you down again. Wordlessly, you managed to believe him that this was it now. And the hardest months of your life, was now going to be worth it.

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tags: @alisstaa, @starlightanyaaa, @nyahctrl, @creolequeen11210, @iheartlinds, @new-weather47, @rjt017

a/n finally part three, and it feels pretty final now dont you think? when i eventually got an idea for part three, i wrote for like three days straight. thanks everyone for all the amazing support, and i hope this is a sufficient end to it all <3 reblogs, replies and likes are highly appreciated Also, might take a small break from writing this week to gather some motivation (unless i get some requests or something) and try and set up this blog more. Do a little 'about me' and rules etc.

Plagiarism not authorized

[barnesandwilsons]

Operation: Go Hammy

a/n: since i got sm love on the first part (i hope you guys enjoyed) genuinely hated how it started but i think it gets better as it progresses.. NOT PROOFREAD AT ALL (i'll do it later i guess)

this is a CONTINUATION from part 1 👇

part 1: Maybe, Just Maybe

pairing: bucky x reader

wc: around 5k

warnings: cutie bob, bucky being sweet, reader being awkward for a TEENSY bit, ava being mentioned, walker wanting pizza rolls, alpine

summary: after spending a while with the thunderbolts new avengers, you begin to realize your feelings for someone.

The kitchen is dimly lit, and through the windows, the dreary New York sky bleeds in — all gray clouds and soft drizzle, like the city itself can feel how you feel.

Bucky’s looking at the pantry, his back turned, searching for anything that looks easy to make. As you walk fully into the kitchen, you can see the infamous peanut butter sandwich. Bucky feels your presence as he turns to you, “How bout I make you some pasta?”

You tear your eyes away from the sandwich, looking up at his blue eyes. They’re kind. He’s being patient with you – no one ever has. 

You nod. “Pasta sounds great.” A small smile pulls from him as he grabs a box of little pasta shells, moving back to the stove as he starts to boil the water. A few minutes later, he gets impatient and pours the pasta in the boiling water.

“I’m not really the best cook,” He stated, looking over his shoulder. “But, pasta," He says, shaking the box of little shells, "is something very easy and essential in life."

You lean against the counter watching him work, and smirk faintly at his words. “Yeah back in Romania, I swear I ate pasta around 50 times in a month.”

He pauses at your words. His head tilts slightly, not fully looking at you but enough to demonstrate his shock.

“Romania?” He repeats, now fully turning to you.

You nod, suddenly feeling in the spotlight for some reason. “Yeah. It’s where I went after…everything. It was quiet and had cheap food. Practically heaven.”

He hums in understandment.

“I was in Romania for a while too,” He says, almost like he’s reminiscing about a time of peace in his life, “After Hydra.”

You glance down at your hands, “Small world.”

“Yeah.”

The pasta bubbles behind him, immediately breaking his focus on you. He turns back to stir it, breaking the moment softly. Then you hear a new voice, “I smell food!”

Bob pops up to the kitchen. Oh sweet Bob. You’ve probably seen him around like twice ever since you got here. Apparently he tried to destroy the world, but you don’t believe it.

Bucky immediately sighs, “Go away, Bob.”

Bob just smiles. “I finally come out of my room and this is what greets me. Rude.”

You let out a small laugh before you can stop yourself.

Bob points at you triumphantly, like he just won a rare award. “Ah-ha! I made her laugh. I am so staying.”

“Bob,” Bucky warns slightly, he uses his metal arm to grab some hot water and flings it at Bob. Bob yelps, and side steps so he can avoid it.

“Okay, so, I think that's my cue to leave,” Bob jokes, already backing out of the kitchen, “Truly nice officially meeting you, Mystery Girl.”

“Bob!” Bucky warns, now focused on stirring the pasta because it’s almost done.

“Bye, Bob.” You smile and wave as he leaves.

“Sorry about him.” Bucky apologizes, feeling the need to.

“He’s great, dont worry about it.”

Bucky glances back at you, “Yeah don't tell him that.”

You grin, honestly now you understand why Yelena likes it here. She works with hot idiots. Bucky drains out the pasta, and starts to look for the pasta sauce. You set eyes on it as you walk by, grabbing the jar and opening it with a soft pop before handing it to him without a word.

He pauses just a second too long as he takes it from you, like he isn’t used to people giving him things without asking. “Thanks,” he says, his eyes briefly locking with yours.

“Don’t mention it.”

Silence falls against the both of you. He quickly adds the sauce and mixes it in the pasta. And before the silence gets the chance to linger, Yelena bursts in, sniffing the air.

“Do I smell Mac & Cheese?”

“No, Lena,” You clarify as you turn quickly, you forgot this girl's obsession with the kids meal, “Pasta.”

“Pasta?” She repeats, almost offended, “Now c'mon, that's just depressed mac & cheese without the cheese.”

Bucky almost groans. He’s clearly trying to get to know you, while the rest of the team is almost hell-bent on making that impossible. “It’s pasta. With Marinara Sauce.”

“Well add cheese,” Yelena adds and turns back to you, giving you a once-over, “Where the hell did you get those clothes?”

You would get flustered, but now is definitely not the time for that. “Bucky loaned them to me. Since all my shit is in the washer.”

Yelena gives you a weird look. Yeah right. 

Finally, Bucky is done with stirring the damn pasta. Trying to keep some common decency, he turns to her. “Would you want a plate?”

Almost forgetting he was there, Yelena turns away from you and walks to the pasta and almost frowns. “Yeah, gimme one sec.” She then opens the top cabinet, grabs Sriracha sauce and squirts it on the pasta.

“Sooo much better,” she smirks, clearly feeling proud of herself and looks at Bucky, “Go on and try it, you’ll thank me later.” She quickly plates the food, waving you over and gives you the plate.

You smile at the plate, give Bucky a quick glance and say a quick thanks.

You all eat at the island counter, plates in front of you, a small conversation between a few bites. Well, Yelena is basically the only one speaking, talking with pride as she ranks the different types of fights she’s been in. You laugh more than you expect to, easily forgetting the mission beforehand.

But eventually, her phone starts to buzz. One look at it and she softly groans.

“Ugh, this girl,” Yelena complains, stuffing the last of her pasta in her mouth, picking up her phone and sending a quick text back. “Alright guys, I’m out to help Kate Bishop.”

Bucky and You share a confused look. Who?

Not caring to clarify, she grabs her plate, puts it in the sink, and pats both of your heads as a goodbye.

You stare at the plate in the sink, and the other two on the counter. You start gathering them and heading to the sink to wash them.

Bucky stares at you and gets up following you to the sink, “I got it.”

“You cooked,” You stated, with a wave of your hand, “Least I can do.”

He scoffs as he gently wraps his hand around your wrist– a way to get you to stop, not even a firm grip, a soft, gentle one just like his soul.

“I said I got it,” He says softly, “Just sit down somewhere.”

Don't gotta tell me twice.

You sit on the counter next to the sink. “So what’s your story?

He starts to wash the dishes, not even being fazed by the question. “Surprised you don’t know.”

“Oh I do, Just wanna hear it from a firsthand account.” You shrug. If you’re gonna be living here, you might as well get to know your coworkers.

“To start, I’m around 100 years old,” He pauses for your reaction.

You tilt your head, “Honestly, you peg me for a much older guy.”

“Yeah, well, I started to use sunscreen.” He deadpans, washing off the soap from Yelena’s plate.

“Must be some type of sunscreen.”

“Mhm.” 

He starts again, “I got drafted, I fell off a train and lost an arm.” He stops and slightly raises his metal arm to the best of his ability since he was holding a dish. “Hydra found me and well, I’m guessing you know the rest.”

You nod, “That’s tragic. Sorry for bringing it up.”

“Nah, You get used to it.”

You feel bad. After everything this man has been through, he’s still kicking? It almost makes you feel embarrassed that you feel this way about yourself. 

Reminder; try to be more positive.

You hop down from the counter, brushing off his hoodie. “Thanks for dinner, Bucky.”

He nods. “Anytime.”

You start to walk off, but you pause once you near the exit, “Any chance I can still wear your clothes for the time-being?”

“Yeah, just keep ‘em if you want. They look better on you anyway.” He says, while he’s still focused on the dishes.

You’re just lucky your knees don’t give out right then and there.

--

It’s been 2 weeks since Bucky made you dinner.

A lot has happened in those 14 days.

Bucky lent you another set of clothes, until eventually, you realized Yelena has to take you shopping, or you’ll end up stealing the rest of this poor man’s closet. He also lent you his old, worn-in copy of The Hobbit after you mentioned wanting to pick up new hobbies. 

It has a few annotations with his thoughts scribbled in the margins, a couple of question marks and a few rare sightings of his dry comments – but you don’t mind. You think it’s cute actually.

You also have seen Bob more ever since that one day – He’s pretty cool. A bit awkward. But cool.

He always offers to help when it comes to laundry, dishes or even basic cooking. You can tell he’s still struggling to figure out where he fits in. Maybe once you find yourself, you can help him.

Alexei was pretty loud, but you can tell it was from a place of love – or admiration. Or whatever else he has going on in that big head of his. When he’s not bragging about his days about being Russia’s very own ‘Captain ‘Merica’, he’s either helping Bob doing random shit, or finding new ways to annoy Yelena.

And Ava? You’ve talked to her a few times now. She’s cool too — but her powers? Yeah, straight-up terrifying. You’re glad she’s on your side.

So yeah, a lot has happened in the past 2 weeks.

Since you decided to take a tour of the Tower, you decided that the gym is your favorite place. So now, here you were listening to music as you work out. As you finish up, you decide to check your phone and see a couple of mixed texts from the “New Avengerz” GC.

Lena: 911

Ava: ?

Walker: what?

Lena: cat in the kitchen???

You frown, looking at your phone confused. 

Who let a cat in the Tower? 

And when can you meet it? 

You’re about to tuck your phone back into your pocket, as you’re getting ready to return back to your room and hit the shower.

Yelena texts again, “nvm false alarm, it’s bucees cat.”

You freeze. Bucky? A cat person?

You don’t mean to judge a person by their cover, but you never expected James Buchanan Barnes to like cats. 

A few hours later, your wish came true.

As you entered the kitchen, after Bob was done washing the dishes, you spotted a cute white fluffy cat.

Oh My God.

“She’s beautiful,” You mutter, only to yourself. No wonder Bucky has her, a beautiful cat for a beautiful soul.

What you didn’t know was that Bucky was looking for the cat.

Again.

For the 3rd time today. He needs to read a book on how to get a cat to behave properly. Thankfully, he made it to the kitchen entryway, as he saw you approach the cat.

You kneel slowly, trying not to scare it. Her beady eyes stare you down, tail flicking lazily behind her, like she’s sizing you up. Judging. Calculating. You pray that she doesn’t bite you.

“Hi, cutey.”

Bucky was just watching you, unafraid to ruin the moment, but he did anyway as he cleared his throat, “She’s harmless. Just has a flair for the dramatics.”

You glance up at him, lips almost pulling to a smile. “Wonder where she gets it from,” You extend a hand to her, as she sniffs it slightly. She nudges her head on your hand. 

Yeah, you might just have to take this ball of joy away from Bucky. 

You shift, sitting cross-legged as she climbs into your lap. Gently, you stroke her soft fur, completely in love. Bucky steps closer, settling beside you on the floor.

Who would've thought? Bucky Barnes, ex-assassin, with his heart almost melting at the sight of you with his cat?

Steve Rogers is practically rolling in his grave right now.

“She’s not like this with most people.” Bucky mentions, out of the blue, “Her name’s Alpine, by the way.”

You scrunch your nose at that adorable name. “She's perfect. I love her.”

“She's got good taste.” Bucky jokes, even softer now. Maybe, Bucky might have to thank his therapist for telling him to get a pet.

Alpine purrs. Your heart absolutely flips. Maybe you’re thinking about getting all the cats in the world. With how big this tower is, that seems like a great idea anyways.

You stay like that for a while, all three of you guys, unbothered.

Until your phone starts ringing. 

You glance at Bucky sheepishly and gently hand Alpine back to him. “Bye, Alpine. Lovely meeting you,” you murmur, getting up to take the call as you walk away. 

--

2 months have passed since you first got to the Avengers tower.

You slowly feel yourself being a part of this team. It took a while, but once you realized that this group was basically a bunch of damaged individuals, it got easier. 

Ironically though, the one person you did hit it off with at first–Bucky, has become a little... awkward. Not in a bad way. Bucky didn’t do anything wrong, it’s just that you started to realize that he was really hot. Like distractingly hot.

But you’ll deal with that later.

For now, you and Ava had finally made it back from your tiring, 2 week mission, and all your mind is set up on is sleeping on your own bed. Nothing else even matters. Not even bothering to charge your phone, you make it into your room, shower, and then jump on that bed.

You were asleep in minutes.

The next morning; you woke up to your alarm, almost groaning at the fact you had to get up soon. Today was the day.

Not like the day—as in your wedding, but still, it was the day AKA your turn to go grocery shopping for the team. The Thunderbolts have recently started a chore wheel, like who's gonna take out the trash this week? Or who’s gonna attempt to do laundry next week? Interesting shit.

It might sound dramatic, but you hated doing mundane tasks. Like grocery shopping? Why can’t someone else do it? 

Funny thing is, it was your turn to go grocery shopping a few weeks back, but you ultimately got out of it. You sighed, chanting to yourself to get up. Bite the bullet. One step at a time.

Perhaps even treat yourself to the shawarma spot before? Yeah. Definitely sounds better when you add that part.

You turned off your alarm, muttering, ‘five more minutes’.

You woke up 2 hours later. 

How? Very, very good question.

Turns out, you didn’t actually turn off your alarm. You just yanked the Alexa plug straight out of the wall.

Problem solved. Good riddance. You check your phone– dead. Oh.

You forgot you didn’t put it on the charger.

You almost cry. You decide now it’s best to charge it.

You finally decide to drag yourself out of bed, the frame giving a tiny creak in protest. Barefoot, you shuffle towards the connected bathroom, wincing slightly as you turn the overhead light flickers on.

As soon as you do, you can see your reflection through the mirror. You practically groan at the sight. You close your eyes and rub them harshly, as if you can scrub the exhaustion away.

You take another shower.

Fast forward: you’re dressed, in desperate need of food, and internally bargaining for someone to go do your ‘task’ for you. You grab your phone, still on the charger, and text the GC, asking for them to send their lists. With that part handled, You leave your phone in your room as you make your way into the kitchen. 

As you walk in the kitchen, in desperate search for coffee, you spot Bucky, right in front of the coffee machine, taking the last batch.

You just stare in utmost shock.

Granted, he felt a shift in the air and turned to you, almost glaring at the cup in his hands, “You good?”

You frown. The audacity.

“Just fine,” you mutter, a little too tightly, brushing past him as you search the cupboards for a mug. You grab the most aggressive one you can find: ‘Thanos was right.’

Fitting.

You decide to settle for tea. Bucky doesn’t say anything for the most part, he’s just silently drinking his coffee, as you drink your tea. 

Then Yelena walks in. 

“Good,” she says without anything else, pointing between the two of you. “Both of you. Perfect.”

Bucky raises his eyebrow, “Perfect for..what?”

“Grocery shopping!” She smiles sweetly, “Y/N is on the list today, but I decided to switch it up for today. So, team bonding. Off you go!”

Bucky blinks. Fuck this chore wheel. Can’t they just hire people to do these tasks?

“I didn’t sign up for this.” Bucky says, attempting to put his foot down.

“You live here.” Yelena deadpans, “Congrats! You have responsibilities!"

She grabs a drink from the fridge and is almost out the door before calling over her shoulder, “Don’t forget my Sriracha!”

–

AT THE STORE

You’re in the cereal aisle.

You don't even remember how you got here. One minute, you were reluctantly putting on real pants, and the next, you were pushing a cart with a grumpy Bucky Barnes walking beside you like he’s being forced into a hostage situation.

Because, technically, he is.

 Since half of the team didn’t even send their lists, you were forced to choose the cereal for the next two weeks.

You stare at the shelves, trying to make an unbiased decision on whether the team is more of a Cinnamon Toast Crunch kind of crowd or if they give off Lucky Charms vibes. Bucky leans on the cart handle, impatient. “You’ve been staring at cereal for five minutes.”

“Well, my bad, if I can’t figure out if the team is–”

Before you can finish, he silently grabs a box of Corn Flakes, drops it into the cart, and starts walking away.

You blink. Corn flakes wasn't even an option.

As Bucky is leaving with the cart, you sigh, grab a box of Cinnamon Toast Crunch anyway, and jog to catch up. 

“Glad to help speed up the process,” He says nonchalantly, scanning the area as if the sugary cereals can kill him. “Where next?” 

“Okay first of all.. you didn’t speed anything up. You just made a really bad decision,” You say, tossing your cereal box into the cart with a dramatic flair. “Second, we need to get the team’s protein powder.”

“Sounds disgusting.”

“Trust me..it is.” You shudder, “But, you definitely don’t need to worry, since you dont really need it.”

The next thirty minutes are spent roaming the store with Bucky, the two of you tossing essentials into the cart—some intentional, some impulse grabs. You argue over what counts as an “easier” snack and you almost forgot you were part of a superhero team.

Until it happens.

A girl—maybe college-aged, maybe younger, gasps loudly near the end of the frozen foods aisle.

“Oh my God. Are you guys the New Avengers?”

You freeze mid-reach for the frozen pizza. Bucky goes still, like someone just aimed a sniper rifle at his back. Slowly, you both turn.

The girl’s practically bouncing. “Wait—can I get a picture? Oh my God, my sister’s gonna flip. You guys are so much hotter in person!”

Bucky sighs through his nose like it physically pained him. You offer a small, tight smile. 

“Yes of course!” You say, the media training they made you do kicking in. You motion to her to stand between you and Bucky.

To your surprise, Bucky even starts to smile—like, a real one. It’s almost charming. Look at that. He remembers how to interact with the public. Progress.

The fan takes the photo, and squeals again once she looks at it. “You guys are like my favorite team. Ever! Totally have to post this on my Insta! So– wait, do you guys, like.. live together?”

You blink. “I mean.. Technically.”

“In the same tower?” she presses, eyes flicking between you and Bucky, who starts to wish he stayed in the car.

“Yep.” He answers for you.

Her eyes narrow. “Are you two… like, together together?”

Bucky almost chokes. You, on the other hand, let out the world’s most awkward laugh.

“Uh, no! But we are definitely done here! Danger is calling,” You say quickly, grabbing the cart handles and making a sharp U-turn, “Say hello to your sister for me! Have an awesome day!”

Bucky practically chases after you.

The fan is left shocked but satisfied, as she clicks on Instagram and starts a Live. “Guys you’ll never guess who I just saw shopping together–”

—-

Back at the Tower, you're in the kitchen with Bucky, the both of you unpacking the groceries in silence—well, companionable silence, anyway. The fluorescent lights hum, cabinets open and close, and every now and then you bump into each other at the fridge.

Walker strolls in and decides to help you guys put the groceries away. After a while, you guys were done and Walker opens the freezer.

“Uh, where’s my pizza rolls?” He asks.

You pause, look at Bucky. He looks at you. Neither of you say anything.

Walker turns around slowly. “Guys.”

“Bucky forgot it.” you say, flatly.

Walker turns to Bucky. “You forgot my pizza rolls, Buck?”

Bucky doesn't even blink. “You didn’t send your list.”

“I said it out loud!”

You snort. “We’re human. We forget shit.”

Walker glares at Bucky. “I told you when we were at the gym!”

“I had headphones in.”

“We were in the sauna!” Walker sighs, tired of this shit “I risk my life for this team, and this is what I get.”

You quietly toss him a frozen burrito. “Here. Be grateful.”

Walker catches it and glares. “This better be beef.”

“It’s beef,” You nod, already walking out of the kitchen. 

...You think it's beef. You’re like 60% sure you read it on the box. Okay, maybe like 40% sure.

You and Bucky both pause just outside the doorway, subtly listening.

2 minutes pass.

Walker grunts in satisfaction. “Okay. It’s beef.”

You exhale in relief and keep walking, Bucky falling into step beside you.

Once you’re both out of the kitchen, a brief silence settles in as you walk side by side. It’s not uncomfortable—just... different. Like something’s sitting in the air that neither of you have named yet.

You have a weird feeling in your chest. Being around Bucky Barnes brings out a weird side of you. You don’t wanna name. Not yet. Because if it is what you think it is—

Yeah.

You’re screwed.

You clear your throat, eyes looking ahead again. “Well... thanks for coming with me today. I know you didn’t really want to.”

Bucky’s quiet for a beat. Then, soft enough that you almost didn’t reach your ears, “Wouldn't have gone if it wasn't you.”

Your heart thuds. 

“Oh,” You manage to squeak out. 

Another beat of silence.

“Try not to forget anything, next time.” You say, like a coward. 

Oh My God.

“I’ll do my best.” He replies, with a shrug that says he’s absolutely lying.

“I'm gonna find Yelena.” You give him the weakest excuse.

You walk off before you can say something even stupider, tossing a casual “See ya!” over your shoulder.

You don’t see the way Bucky watches you leave.

But maybe it’s better that way.

–

You find Yelena in her room, sitting cross-legged on her bed with a bag of chips balanced on her lap and some ridiculous crime documentary playing in the background.

She doesn’t look up when you knock—just gestures lazily. “It’s open.”

You step inside, shutting and locking the door behind you. “Hey!”

“How was grocery shopping?” She smiles, knowing exactly what she did. 

You narrow your eyes at her. “It was alright.” You sit next to her, silently watching the show with her. As she turns to you, she tilts her head, “You know it’s obvious, right?”

You return her pointed look. “What is?”

“Your feelings for Barnes.” Yelena says, as if she didn't just drop a metaphorical bomb on you.

“Oh my God.” You groan, dramatically flopping onto her bed. “I don’t—I do not like that man.”

Yelena arches a brow, unimpressed.

“I mean, as a person, sure, yes, I respect him. But I don’t have feelings for him.”

“Mhmmm,” Yelena pretends to listen to you. 

A sudden realization hits you like a bucket of cold water. “Wait… You planned the grocery store!”

“Look at that,” She says, smirking. “You used your smart brain.”

You stare, betrayed. “Yelena.”

“Team bonding,” she says with exaggerated air quotes. “I just pulled that out of my ass. You’re welcome.”

You stare at her. “I dont–”

She points at you, a mysterious look in her eyes. “You don't have to lie,” Yelena says, her tone extremely casual, “It’s normal. Girl likes Boy. Boy likes Girl. End of story.”

You shake your head, because it’s never that easy. 

“No. Not end of story. There is no story,” You say, almost pleading, “I can’t like Bucky, he’s literally perfect!”

Yelena looks at you like you’re crazy. “Him?”

“He was literally in Congress. He’s friends with Captain America…” you mutter, like the words are proof of something. “And. I had options after I left the Red Room, and I still chose the wrong path. I didn’t know better, but I still chose wrong. That makes me a terrible person.”

Yelena pouts.

"Okay,” Yelena says softly, voice steady, “Well then you are fooling yourself. Because you’re not a terrible person and you still like Bucky.”

“Stop saying that— Lena, please.” You whisper, glancing around instinctively. You’re in her room, door closed, but still. You’ve never trusted thin walls.

She rolls her eyes. “Fine. I know my place. But Alexei—”

“Lena!” You hiss.

“What! Don't blame me, it's obvious.” She says, not even pretending to feel bad, “I can try to get him not to speak about it. At least not in front of Bucky.”

You feel the tension ease out your shoulders. “Thank you.”

–

The transition from fall to winter always makes Bucky feel…heavier. 

To be fair, Bucky tries fighting this feeling. He’s spent almost his whole life feeling bad about himself, but lately, he's been getting better, courtesy of Dr.Raynor.

He loves his cat, Alpine, the little menace who isn’t afraid to stand her ground.

He loves the small bookstore that opened a few blocks away from the Tower, which rekindled Bucky’s reading phase, a quiet escape he missed dearly. Because ever since he joined this rag-tag team of heroes, he hasn’t fully had time to be by himself.

He’s even started to listen to some of the music you recommended, a nice attempt to drag him out of his olden days into the new century. 

In general, Bucky has started to make peace with things.

It truly is the little things that matter.

Of course, he can’t help but notice the way you light up when he tells you he likes a new song, or how your face softens when he asks for more recommendations. Bucky knows it’s silly, but he likes these moments, even if he can’t bring himself to say it outright.

Ever since your departure from the Red Room, you threw yourself into countless hobbies, desperately trying to reclaim the pieces of your stolen childhood. Singing, writing, reading, painting, gaming—each one a quiet act of defiance, a way to remind yourself that you were more than what they made you. But the one thing that always pulled you back from the edge, the one thing that never wavered, was music.

Sometimes, late at night when Bucky couldn’t sleep, the nightmares being too much to bear, he'd listen to the songs you gave him. He’d picture you in your room, headphones on and swaying to the music gently. And it gave him hope, that maybe he could do it too, maybe he could find something that made the world more bearable to go on with.

On one of those nights, he found himself sitting alone in the dimly lit living room, Alpine curled up on the couch beside him. He didn’t even bother turning on the lamp. His thoughts were heavy, but the soft hum of music in his earbuds offered a silent comfort.

That’s when he heard your footsteps in the hallway, light but sure. You paused at the entrance, your hair tousled from sleep, wearing one of his old shirts that always made him smile.

“Couldn’t sleep?” you asked softly, stepping into the living room, surprised to see him. 

“Yeah,” He mutters softly, as he raises the book he was reading in his hands.

At the sight of the book, you remembered how he loaned you The Hobbit, “Speaking of books, I’ve read your annotations.”

Bucky seemed to forget how to respond for a second, “You actually read those?”

 “Well, it was kinda hard to ignore them,” You reply, settling next to him on the couch as Alpine took off and disappeared into the darkness. “I loved seeing how you view the characters. Makes the story ten times better.”

“Good to know,” He replied, smiling faintly at that, a tired but friendly smile which always made your stomach churn.

So many questions filled your mind, yet it wasn't the moment to voice them. Why was he awake? Was everything alright? What was his experience like in Congress?

For the most part, you kept those questions to yourself. But one of your thoughts had to slip out.

“What are you listening to?” You asked softly, your tone warm and curious, an attempt to change the subject.

He raised his brow, almost surprised by the question. Bucky gently pulled out one earbud, offering it to you as if sharing a secret. “One of the songs you recommended,” he said quietly, his fingers brushing yours for the briefest moment as he handed you the earbud.

Sliding it into your ear, you hear the soft beat of one of your favorite songs, you look at him. This was one of the first songs you recommended to him, because it helped bring you out from a dark place many moons ago.

You can't believe your ears, you turn to him with a small smile on your lips, “Can’t believe you still listen to this.”

“It’s a decent song,” He shrugs almost shyly, his eyes gentle, “Kinda helps…sometimes.”

You understand.

You don't say anything else, not out loud anyway. Instead, you just let the song fill between you, the familiar beat serving as a connection between you too. In that moment, there's no need for words or actions, the music says everything.

Bucky shifts closer to you, just slightly, as if the small distance between you guys was a barrier. 

You feel the heat of his shoulder against yours, the comfort of his presence. He doesn’t look at you, You don't look at him, you’re just trying to slow down your heartbeat. Your gaze shifts to his metal arm; beautiful and metallic. Slowly and carefully, you reach out and lay your hand over his, your fingers tracing the cool ridges of the vibranium plates. He stiffens for a split second, then relaxes, his shoulders sagging just a little.

You know what this means. You know you’re trying to let yourself feel, something unfamiliar and scary, but also something you can’t keep ignoring anymore.

“I hope this… doesn’t make you uncomfortable. I just–”

Bucky shakes his head, cutting you off softly. “It’s fine,” he says, his voice calm and almost dismissive—like it’s no big deal to him, even though you both know it is. “Doesn’t bother me.”

You then, feeling bold and comforted by his casualness, reach for his hand. Your fingers wrap around his, the contrast of his cool metal arm against your flesh arm making you feel grounded. He doesn’t pull away—if anything, he shifts just a little, his thumb brushing against your knuckles in a silent reassurance.

You almost cry.

The warmth of the moment lingers, you make a mental note to yourself to write this down somewhere, afraid you might forget that this happened.

Eventually, you start to get tired and fall asleep leaning on his shoulder. Bucky was gentle, careful not to move too much and disturb your sleep, as he shifted slightly, sliding one arm under your knees and the other around your back to lift you up. You stirred a little, but didn’t wake, your head moving against his chest. He carried you to your room, the softest look on his face.

He opened the door and slowly put you on your bed, adjusting the covers to cover your entire body. He paused for a moment to look at you, your face so calm and peaceful even in your sleep. A small grin showed up on his face.

Then he remembered how this might look if you woke up right then, and he shifted back awkwardly. “Night,” he whispered softly, careful not to disturb you, and just a little embarrassed as he closed the door gently behind him.

After 3 hours of sleep, You woke up feeling a bit confused. You sit up slowly, trying to recall how you ended up here, in your bed, tucked like a little lamb in Mary’s farm. Then, You remember the soft music and Bucky hours before.

You remember the soft feeling you felt in your heart when you held his hand. A tiny smile tugging at your lips, as you brush your fingers over your soft comforter.

If only Dreykov can see you now.

---

guys dont hate me bc they will notttt be confessing anytime soon.

[k-aay]

☆ HEY, NEIGHBOUR. HEY, LOVER. (PART 1)

☆ SYNOPSIS : : There once was a boy who had feelings for a girl but didn't know how to express them. As a kid, he didn't know how to get her attention, so he beat up the guys who did, which only lit the flame to a long-lasting hatred between them. That was sixteen years ago, and now you both are twenty-one with homes too close for comfort. But what you didn't know is how attracted you were to him now.

FEATURING : choso kamo

NOTE : this took a little too long to write pls enjoy <3

WC ; 5.2k

CREDITS! : this work is owned by @k-aay on tumblr. please dont steal my work! (i do not proof read, sorry for any mistakes !!)

16 YEARS AGO !

"I hate you!" you screamed, stomping your small foot as your eyebrows furrowed. It was true, you hated the way he was acting right now. He stood there with his hands shoved into the pockets of his baggy, denim jeans, standing not far from you. And on the ground beside him was your classmate wailing with a bruised eye. Choso couldn't care less about the trouble he caused. He kicked a tiny rock before him, "I did you a favour, stupid." You were seeing red at this point as you clenched your fists. "What is your problem!?" you grab him by the collar of his red shirt.

"Hey, let go!" Choso pushes you away, not using much force. "What the hell are you doing!? I was helping you!" he yells, pointing a finger at you. "You punched him! I didn't ask you to punch him!" He frowned. Of course, you didn't ask him to punch that jerk, but he did it anyway. He knew that you wanted that kid far away from you so he punched him. Why were you upset at him?

PRESENT

Choso Kamo was one of the staples of your childhood. He was notorious for leading the other boys in your elementary school like minions and demanding them to create as much chaos with him as possible. And he'd be damned if any of his minions stepped out of line. But that was almost a decade ago and you haven't seen him since middle school. Right now, you're unpacking your boxes after moving into your new apartment. As you sit on your brand-new couch and rest your feet on the cardboard box sitting snugly on the floor, you crack open your last can of beer.

"I thought you said you'd manage to handle unpacking everything yourself," your friend, Shoko says as she grabs the beer from your hand and chugs it. "Ugh, slow down! That's the last can." She wipes the excess from her mouth and hands you the can. "I deserve to drink as fast as I want after you enslaved me today." You roll your eyes and place your lips on the cold, metal top of the can, taking a sip. "And here I thought my best friend meant it when she said I could call her if I needed anything."

"No one means it when they say that. You're fucking stupid for believing that. I only helped because I wanted to see your new place. Maybe even design a room for myself." Shoko shifted her position on the couch, her legs over the top as she sat upside-down. "Why the hell would I give you a room?" She hits your legs, "Because I helped you clean the place with these hands. For hours, if I should add. And you live so close to campus and that gas station."

"I did get a good place, didn't I?" you say, fidgeting your fingers around the can. "'Good' is an understatement," Shoko says, pointing her finger at the window. Specifically the gas station near your house. "Now it's time to pay off your debts and get us some beer and cigarettes. Your treat." You groan, sitting back on the couch. "Go. I'll watch over your lion den." You stand up straight and zip your grey sweater up, slightly covering the shorts you were wearing.

"Fine," you say, slipping into your shoes as you hold onto the wall for support. You place your phone into the back pocket of your shorts and open the front door, stepping outside.

As you made your way to the gas station, you wanted to make the trip quick. Speed-walking through the store to gather the things you needed: bottles of beer, snacks, cigarettes and hangover medicine you know you'll need for tomorrow. You dumped the pile of happiness for the night onto the check-out table and carefully placed the six-pack of beer down too. As the cashier scanned everything, you faintly heard a group of male voices from outside gradually getting closer and louder until they were right outside the door. "Your total will be forty dollars. How would you like to pay?" the cashier dully says, tapping on the screen before him.

"Jesus... forty..." you mumble. "Card." pulling the shiny credit card from your purse, you pay for your items as the cashier puts them into a white plastic bag. You grabbed the bag and headed straight for the door. Right as you were going to push it open, someone had already pulled it open instead. "Yo, Kamo, you gonna go inside? Oh, shit-" the white-haired man cuts himself off after laying eyes on you. "y/n?" he says, a smirk forming on his face.

"Gojo.." you mumble, dreadfully. And in front of him was Choso Kamo. The little leader of it all. He towered over you, his eyes looking down to meet yours. And you hated the feeling of it even more, damaging your ego slightly. "Drinking with someone or are you all alone?" Gojo leans forward, resting his arm on Choso's shoulder who was staring at you with his hands shoved into his pockets the same way he did all those years ago. You didn't want to admit how good Choso looked with his long, jet-black tied back into a bun with a few strands falling in front of his face. "Fuck off. I have to get going. Because unlike you, someone's waiting for me at home."

"Who?" You looked up at the man who spoke coldly to you. It was just one word that sent shivers down your spine. His tone was nothing short of rough. He said that one simple word as if you owed him an explanation and you had to quickly remind yourself that you didn't. "That's none of your business." Gojo chuckles, removing his arm from Choso. "You'll let us in your apartment if we ask to join right? Seems like a lot of drinking for one small person." You were about to refuse them before the other one, Geto did for you. "Satoru, it's rude to invite yourself like that. Especially if you aren't wanted." His tone sounded soft and sincere, but you already knew Geto well enough from previous years to know that nothing was sweet under that angelic voice.

What you couldn't figure out was the man still intensely staring at you, Choso Kamo. You looked away from him and shook your head before pushing past them and walking off. "Not even a goodbye?" Gojo calls out yet you ignore him like you've been doing all these years. But you still felt as if eyes were on you.

Once you hurriedly made it back to your apartment, you placed the white, plastic bag on the floor and opened a beer. Shoko watched as you chugged the entire thing, reminiscing bad memories of not only your recent encounter with Choso and his little minions but old, previous ones as well. "Damn, who got your panties in a twist?" She asked, opening a beer for herself as she took a small sip. "Those wannabe-frat punks."

"Gojo and Geto?" Shoko asks, laying her stomach flat with one hand holding her beer bottle dangling off the couch. "Oh, and don't forget their little don," you aggressively place the bottle on the ground, but not strong enough for it to break into pieces. Your reminder of the two boys' leader grabbed Shoko's attention. "He's back?" You nod your head, not bothering to look at her. "Is he still hot?" Now you look at her, disgusted in fact. "Ye- no!" Shoko raises a brow as she takes another sip of beer, skeptical of you having to correct yourself. "I'll take that as a 'yes.'"

"He pisses me off! I swear I wanted to beat him up with my bag when I saw him! Right on the spot where his little dick-sucking friends could see." You chugged the bottle, every last drop of the drink was gone. Shoko looked at you, realizing the extent of your anger. You opened another beer bottle and started drinking. "Once I get my hands on that deadbeat, motherfucker-"

It was hours later before the effects of multiple beers kicked in. Shoko left early due to an assignment that was due the next morning, leaving you drunk and alone. You were lost in your thoughts, mainly about the man you dreaded. You laid flat on your back, the coldness of the wooden flooring was one of the few things you felt after those beers. Suddenly, loud music startled you and you looked at the wall where the apartment next door was on the other side of. That was where the music was coming from. You were already upset and annoyed by the encounter at the gas station. Being drunk meant your decency to be a good neighbour, especially on the first day of moving in was kicked out of the window. You put on your slippers and exit your apartment, knocking on the door next to yours.

No answer...

So you knocked again. It's louder this time. Only now, the door finally opened. The muzzled-out music was louder and gave you a minor headache. Standing on the other side of the door was Choso, looking as calm as you were shocked. "Can I help you?" he asked, his eyes lowering to your body which was covered in a short, white tank top and jean shorts that almost fully covered your thighs. You felt his gaze lingering for a few seconds and a blush crept onto your cheeks when Choso's eyes met with yours again. It was like a staring contest you were determined to win. Even when he had his hair messily down, making it ten times harder for you to look at him, you weren't going to face defeat. Instead, you cleared your throat, trying to be as intimidating and nonchalant as possible as you slammed your hand against his door. "Turn down the music, dork. You're gonna wake up the entire building with that shit."

Unfortunately for you, your eyes lingered down on the very shirtless person you were berating. Choso's arms were crossed, covering half of the view of his chest. Secretly, you were praying for this man to let his arms down to his side. It felt like you were a high schooler all over again, drooling over guys from magazines but instead, you were drooling over the man that was physically impossible for you to get along with. But your intoxication left no room for shame and locked it behind chains and a metal door.

"No," he spoke. "Are you drunk?" You rolled your eyes and walked closer, stopping right in front of him, your slippers almost touching his feet. "Turn. Down. The. Fucking. Music. Got it?" Your arm leaned against his door as you waited for his answer. As much as you were scared, you stood your ground with confidence, until Choso leaned down to reach your height level. "No." You unknowingly backed up an inch, causing him the slightest smirk plastered on his face. "I'll-" Choso raised a brow as you stammered. You didn't know what you were gonna do if he refused. His smirk widened at your loss of words. "What? You'll what?" Being tongue-tied meant you had already lost the argument right when it started escalating to threats.

Unfortunately, you had no threats in mind. Damn him and how good he smelled right now. It ticked you off how weirdly attracted you were to him at the moment and you did everything you could to put that energy into thinking of a way to piss him off. "I'll call the cops and file a noise complaint."

He rolled his eyes and stepped back, leaning against his doorframe again. You were waiting for a response from him, but secretly regretting the threat of calling the cops. It wasn't like you were going to go through with it. Your mind was running with thoughts you knew shouldn't belong in your head, slightly fidgeting with your fingers as Choso's gaze remained on you. Burning heat spread across your cheek as his stare slammed into your eyes. "Okay. I'll turn it down," he finally speaks. "On one condition." You tilted your head, placing your hands behind your back. "Who did you have over tonight?"

"What?" His heavy eye didn't falter for a second after he spoke. "Answer the question and I'll lower the volume." You were delighted with the easy condition but as happy as you were came confusion. Why did he want to know? "I answer the question and you'll have it lowered?" you repeat, seeking reassurance. "As low as you want, sweetheart." Sweetheart... Why did it feel as if any of your rational and sane thoughts had escaped your head right when that name so casually rolled off his tongue? Especially in a way that shouldn't have you fantasizing about him. You blamed the alcohol for causing the way you felt. "So? Spit it out," he demanded, snapping you out of reality. "Cat got your tongue or are you too scared to admit that you were with someone and had some fun?" What was this guy thinking? Never mind that, the way he was acting suddenly gave you a little ego boost, reminding you about who has to be in charge of this situation.

"So impatient, Choso. Didn't you hear? Curiosity killed the cat," you smirked. He leaned forward, "Everyone always leaves that saying unfinished. Didn't you hear? Satisfaction brought him back, sweetheart." The way his mood was dead serious only pushed the situation to make you feel even hotter. "Now I hate to rush the moment, but I have a party to get back to. If you want the volume to be lowered, then you better fess up and tell me who you were with." You clenched your fists, fighting the urge to give him a piece of your mind by the way he was talking down on you. "Fine, fine! I was with Shoko. Shoko Ieri from high school." Choso steps away from you, placing his hand on his door. "Alright. Goodnight then." The door closed, leaving you with a lowered volume from the other side and still a heavy head.

Choso leaned against his door, his heart pounding against his chest as he replayed the encounter with you in his mind. He had always been aware of your presence; you were the girl who captivated him in a way he couldn’t articulate. Sixteen years had passed since those chaotic childhood days, yet the memory of your fiery spirit and stubbornness remained vividly alive in his thoughts. Even now, when you stood before him, looking so determined and slightly intoxicated in your little tank top and shorts, he couldn’t help but feel drawn to you. As he turned back into his apartment, a stark contrast to the chaotic swirl of emotions inside him. Gojo and Geto had organized a small gathering, and despite the noise, he wasn’t in the mood for a party anymore. Not when he was buzzing from your confrontation.

“Choso! You’re not just gonna stand there all night, are you?” Gojo called from the living room, pulling him out of his thoughts. The white-haired jokester was sprawled across the couch, a beer in hand, while Geto lounged in an armchair, flipping through his phone with a disinterested expression. “Yeah, man. C’mon, don’t leave us hanging,” Geto chimed in, looking up from his phone. Choso trudged over, taking a seat on the edge of the couch, his thoughts still lingering on you. “What’s the plan? Just drink and laugh at stupid shit?”

"No fucking shit. Who was at the door?" Gojo asked. Choso shot him a glance and shook his head, "Just a noise complaint from my neighbour. It's nothing. Just continue where we left off." Gojo and Geto looked at each other before nodding their heads, continuing their yap. As the night wore on, Choso felt increasingly restless. He leaned back, crossed his arms, and tried to immerse himself in the conversations, but every laugh reminded him of you. The familiar faces of his friends were around him, but all he could picture was the fiery girl who lived just next door.

THE NEXT MORNING !

It had to be at least seven in the morning or even six by the way the sun was shining too brightly through the curtains of your window. Your alarm was found on the ground and seemed to have been knocked over. You rolled around, grabbed your pillow and roughly muzzled it over your face attempting to shield your eyes from the brightness. A hard-hitting headache kicked in but your tiredness from the previous night hadn't left. You threw the pillow to the side and sat up straight, stretching your arms. Going through your morning routine was nearly impossible with a hangover present. So you just brushed your teeth, got a hot cup of water and made your way to the balcony to take in some fresh air. The mug you took a sip out of was warm, heating your hands as the cool breeze from outside hit it. When you turn to your left to glimpse more of the view, you catch a sight you wished you hadn't discovered.

A still shirtless neighbour staring directly at you from his close balcony as he sipped on something from his mug. Choso's hair was tied back and eye-bags were visible even from the distance you were at. "Morning," he spoke. His voice was still deep and raspy after having just woken up. You nod your head, memories of last night flooding back into your head. "You get any sleep?" he asks, his expression showing that he doesn't care about what your answer is going to be but your gut told you otherwise. "No, not much." You kept your answer short and simple, keeping your distance from him. The feeling he gave you wasn't something that could be easily trusted especially after years of knowing him. Even with the sounds of cars and ongoing traffic outside filling the air, it still felt awkwardly quiet now that none of you were talking. You took a sip out of your cup, uncomfortably tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear afterwards.

"Do you still think about middle school?" Choso breaks the trend of silence. You raise a confused brow, caught off guard by his sudden question. "Middle school?" you repeat. He leans against the railing of the balcony, the small gap between yours and his being something you could be grateful for. "Yeah," he answers. "That's... random." You take a moment to think about it. It was so long ago that you don't remember that much about your days there. "Not really. Why?" Choso smiles. "You had a record for being a goody-two-shoes if I remember correctly." You roll your eyes, "And you had a record for causing all the trouble there. You didn't even have a reason most of the time." Before you even knew it, he managed to get you all fired up with only a few sentences. “Not really. You were always so serious. I wondered what it would take to get you to loosen up,” he says, his gaze steady and probing, those dark eyes searching for something in yours. You laugh, the sound is almost incredulous—a mix of disbelief and amusement that dances in the air between you.

“And you thought causing trouble was the way to do that?” Choso nods. “Absolutely,” he replies, leaning in slightly, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper as if sharing a secret only you could hear. The air between you crackles with unspoken tension, charged with memories of past escapades and the thrill of possibilities. You can almost feel the warmth radiating from his skin, the casual intimacy of the moment drawing you in. “You still seem like you’re stuck in that same routine. Being stuck in the same loop of following nothing less than the rules, aren't you, sweetheart? ” His words hit a nerve, and a rush of defensiveness rises within you. “Maybe I like my routine,” you counter, crossing your arms tightly, a shield against his probing gaze. Yet, even as you say it, doubt flickers in the back of your mind, a tiny voice questioning whether you truly find comfort in the mundane.

You glance down, noticing how your fingers fidget with the hem of your shirt, a clear sign of the restlessness brewing inside you. It’s a familiar feeling, one that has settled in your chest like a weight over the years. The thrill of spontaneity seems like a distant memory, and the thought of breaking free from your carefully constructed life sends a jolt of adrenaline through you. He's getting to you. You remember who you're talking to and snap out of the reckless thoughts. "Not that it's your business anyway," you add to your previous sentence. "When did you even move here?" He shrugs, "Before you. Maybe three months prior." His answer causes you to raise a brow, "I've been coming in and out of this apartment for almost a week now. How come I've never seen you even once?"

“Guess I’ve been keeping a low profile,” he replied a hint of a smirk playing on his lips, his dark eyes glinting with mischief. “I like my peace and quiet. But it looks like that’s changed now that you’re my neighbour.” You felt a mix of irritation and something else—something you weren’t ready to confront. “Right, because peace and quiet is exactly what you’re all about,” you said, crossing your arms again, trying to project confidence despite the flutter in your stomach. Touché,” he said, his voice dripping with amusement, leaning back against the railing with easy confidence. “But hey, it’s not all bad. Maybe you just needed someone to shake things up a bit.” You roll your eyes. “Shake things up? Is that your idea of fun?” You raised an eyebrow, attempting to keep the conversation light, but the air around you thickened with tension. You could feel his gaze tracing your features, and it made your pulse quicken.

“Maybe,” he said, leaning in slightly, the space between you charged with an unexpected energy that felt almost electric. “You ever think about breaking out of that ‘goody-two-shoes’ routine? Just for one night?”

Your heart raced at the suggestion, thoughts whirling as you considered the implications. “And what would you suggest? A wild night out with you?” Your tone was half-joking, but a part of you wondered what that could entail. "Cute," he replied, sarcasm dripping from his words, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. "But I meant going out with your friends if you still have any, sweetheart." You stepped closer to where the railing was, feeling the cool metal against your palms as you leaned over, looking out at the sprawling city below. The morning light bathed everything in a warm glow, but your focus was entirely on Choso.

"What's that supposed to mean, asshole?" Choso feels satisfied at the sight of getting a rise out of you. He leans casually against the railing, the morning air crackling with tension. “Just calling it like I see it. You’ve got this whole perfect image to uphold, but everyone breaks eventually." You narrowed your eyes, crossing your arms defiantly. “So, what? You think I’m just sitting around waiting for permission to have fun? I have a life, you know.” You narrowed your eyes, crossing your arms defiantly. “Right. A life filled with study sessions and early bedtimes.” He chuckled, clearly enjoying the banter and the sound was both infuriating and oddly charming. The way he carried himself—carefree, a little reckless—made your heart thump in a way that both excited and terrified you. “What's wrong with that?” you challenged, trying to regain some control. “Not everyone wants to be reckless like you, Kamo.”

"'Fun' doesn't just mean trouble and recklessness. It's really upsetting how you and many others look at it like that," he countered, causing you to run out of excuses. "I'm perfectly happy with where I'm at right now so what are you trying to do, hm? What's the scheme here?" Choso crossed his arms, the front pieces of his hair flowing with the wind slightly in a way that made your stomach do a flip. "There is no scheme here. And since you're getting so defensive, I'll back off. Goodbye, Ms. Neighbor." He took a step back, sliding the door closed behind him with a finality that left you standing there, breathless. The silence that followed felt heavy, pressing against your chest as you turned back to the view, the city sprawling below you, full of life and possibility.

Frustration bubbled up within you, mingled with an unexpected yearning. Did he really think he knew you? Your routine? The familiar comforts of studying and early bedtimes were just that—comforts. But the way he challenged you made you wonder if you were missing out on something.

You stared at the door he had just closed, the weight of his words lingering in the air. Maybe he had a point. The thought of breaking free, even just for a night, sent a thrill through you. But the idea was terrifying. As you stood there, you felt the urge to retreat back into your safe little world, but the thrill of possibility tugged at you. What if you did reach out to your friends? What if you let loose for one night? The thought of laughter, music, and dancing sent a shiver down your spine.

With a deep breath, you stepped back inside your apartment, heart racing. Maybe it was time to shake things up. A wild night didn’t sound so bad after all. You glanced back at the door, a spark of rebellion igniting within you. Perhaps it was time to see what life could be like beyond the confines of your routine. You pick up your phone and dial Shoko's number. After a few rings and a wave of anxiety washing over you, she picks up. "Do you wanna go out to the bar tonight?"

10:45 PM.

You walk into a local bar, Shoko standing by your side. "Are you sure? I get that you're trying something new but you hate everything that's sloppy. And a guy is literally over there making out with a woman and pressing up on her. Gosh... they need to take it somewhere private soon." Shoko's suggestion sounded like heaven to you right now. The apartment building was calling your name and you felt a rush of regret hitting you in the face. "I'll be fine. It's only a night anyways." You glimpse around the bar and see a familiar set of eyes latched onto yours. "What the fuck is he doing here?" Shoko looks into the direction your eyes were latched on after hearing your question. There standing was Choso Kamo. As you stood frozen, the air between you and Choso felt electric, charged with all the unspoken words and unresolved tension from earlier.

Shoko sighed and shook her head, "You have fun with that. I'm gonna go get some drinks." You nodded and she disappeared to the bar. Choso walked towards you, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his black zip-up hoodie. He smirked, that infuriatingly charming smile playing on his lips as he moved closer, the crowd around you seeming to disappear. “What a coincidence, huh?” he said, his voice low and teasing. “Fancy seeing you here, sweetheart.” Your lips pursed. “Right,” you shot back, your irritation flaring. “Just because I’m trying to have a night out doesn’t mean I’m okay with your... little show here.” You gestured vaguely at the bar scene, and his gaze narrowed slightly, the challenge sparking in his eyes. “Little show?” he echoed, leaning in a fraction closer, his breath warm against your skin.

“You mean the one you were just about to join? Seems like I actually got to you, hm? You're gonna have more fun here than you think.” Choso's tall figure towered over you, he watched as you avoided eye contact with him. “Fun?” you scoffed, crossing your arms. “This isn’t gonna be anywhere close to fun. This is a disaster waiting to happen. Look at that guy over there—making out with a total stranger like he’s in a bad rom-com.” You nod your head towards the couple Shoko pointed out earlier. Choso moved his eyes towards them and then back at you, the corner of his mouth quirking up into a smirk. "Jealous?" he teases. "Of what?" He leans down, his mouth right beside your ear. "That she's actually kissing someone. I mean, you're so pent up all the time... It's almost obvious that you're not getting enough action. I almost feel bad." He pulled back away from you. "Tell me, sweetheart, how long has it been?"

"You- That's none of your business." He chuckles, "There's no need to be ashamed. I can offer some help, I'm quite the catch after all." Your cheeks flushed a slight red and he didn't need to see. You couldn't let him see. “Please,” you rolled your eyes, but your heart raced beneath your carefully constructed facade. “You’re more of a distraction than anything. You think you can charm your way through life and not get called out for it?” Your fists were clenched, wondering how much longer Shoko's gonna take with those drinks. “Maybe I like a little mess now and then.” He stepped closer, the warmth of his body radiating toward you, his voice dipping into a low, teasing tone. “Not everyone wants to play it safe. Not someone like you.”

“What's someone like me supposed to mean?” You took a half-step back, an instinctual move to reclaim your space, but it felt like a losing battle. “Someone who hides behind her books and schedules,” he said, his gaze piercing into yours, unrelenting and intense. It felt like he was peeling away layers you’d meticulously constructed, leaving you exposed. “You appear to be afraid of a rush, but I can see it. You crave it.” Your eyes slightly widened, “Stop pretending you know me,” you shot back, your pulse quickening with irritation and something deeper—something that made your heart race in a way you couldn’t quite understand. “You don’t have a clue what goes on in my head.” He leaned in closer, the air thickening between you. “Oh, I think I have a pretty good idea.”

The noise of the bar faded, replaced by the rapid beating of your heart. “But if you think you can just dismiss me, then maybe you’re the one who’s scared.” Your breath caught, the heat between you palpable and electric. “Scared? Of you? Don’t flatter yourself.” A smirk tugged on his lips. “Not flattery, just observation,” he replied. “But maybe you should be scared. I might just get you to do something reckless tonight.” You shook your head. “Reckless?” you echoed, your voice laced with a mix of annoyance and a flutter of excitement. “You think I’m just going to drop everything and follow you into chaos?”

“Why not? You’re already here.” His voice was smooth and seductive, the challenge hanging in the air like a promise. As he stepped even closer, the world around you seemed to dissolve into nothingness. The offer was tempting. Too tempting for your liking. You purse your lips, a faint smirk playing on his lips as he sees you considering it. "C'mon, you know you want to." You nod your head, "Fine."

TBC...

[mia-can-yap-too]

Goal to Your Heart

(Blue Lock dating show, P.2)

What?:- The Blue Lock boys come onto a dating show called ‘Goal to Your Heart’ where they try to outshine each other to win the heart of Y/n L/n. In this segment, our host will ask them why they think they should be the one to date her! 

Warnings:- crack, otoya comments weird stuff under peoples posts, karasu is caught in 4k saying gay stuff

(P.1) , (jjk ver.)

Otoya Eita

“Everybody, give it up for Mr. Otoya Eita, the Ninja!”

There is a modest applause from the audience.

“Yo,” he says as he holds up peace signs.

“Let’s dive right in! What about Ms.L/n compelled you to come on to this show?”

He scratches his chin a bit before answering. “Ever since I saw her, I felt like I just knew that she was the one. My freak was matched instantly, man, no girl has ever done that before.”

The host raises his brow. “The one, you say? That’s a pretty big claim, Mr.Otoya.”

Otoya just nods, as if he did a great deal of thinking. “Yeah, my guy. Her vibes were immaculate, man, immaculate.”

“Do you even know what that word means?” A pre-recorded laugh from the audience resounds.

“Uh..”

“Anyways! Since you said that she was the one, can you explain this photo then?”

On the screen, a screenshot of the replies to an instagram post of a bikini model appears. A highlighted comment from ‘@all_the_huzz_luv_eita’ says ‘Step on me, Mami’ (a/n:- i took this from the replies of a sydney sweeny post btw)

Otoya’s eyes widen. “My…account got hacked, I don’t remember commenting that.”

The host doesn’t look like he believes him, and continues with a coy smile. “I’m guessing you didn’t comment these either?”

Four more screenshots of replies from the same account, all of the same nature.

“ ‘Call me a dog the way I be lickin’ it’,” reads the host.

“Umm….”

“ ‘Not a magician but I can make your period disappear for nine months’.”

“Uh…”

“ ‘I don’t have a car but I could take you for a ride’, really, Mr.Otoya?” asks the host.

“I never said loyalty was my strong suit, okay?!”

Karasu Tabito

“A round of applause for the Crow, Karasu Tabito!”

He smirks confidently as the audience cheers and hoots for him.

“Hello, everyone.”

“Right, so Mr.Karasu, tell us more about yourself!”

He chuckles. “Well, I like football, obviously and I would say that I’m quite smart and observant too, it’s not much, but it’s better than others *cough* Otoya *cough*”

The host has mirth in his eyes. Drama, that’s what we like to see. “You’re right, it isn’t much, haha! Anyways, how about we watch some clips from Blue Lcok TV?”

Karasu looks a bit confused but he goes with it. “Sure, if yer want to.”

A clip of Karasu shooting an impressive goal is on the screen.

“Incredible work, Mr.Karasu,” comments the host.

Another clip of him is on the screen now. A clip of him commenting on a pass of a teammate.

“That left leg pass was super sexy,” says the Karasu in the clip.

The Karasu in real life scratches his head, not being able to look at the cameras. “That was…a moment of weakness…”

Another clip comes on, this time Karasu is saying, “Forcing it through a small hole, huh? I like the sound of that.”

His face is red with embarrassment.

“Do you know your family watched this? What do you think about that?”

“I think I hate this fucking show.”

a/n:- this has been sitting in my drafts as a WIP for wayy too long. I dont like the way it turned out and the last time i wrote it was like 2 months ago AND it was supposed to have way more characters than just these two. but im tired of looking at this in my drafts and sick of pretending im gonna work on it. sorry yall

[multifan2022]

Fearless 6

PART 1 PART 5

Masterlist

"The first thing you will learn today is how to shoot a gun. The second thing is how to win a fight." Your voice rang out through the shooting range, as Four passed guns out to each person. You caught the way Tris tried desperately to make eye contact with him. Trying to not feel satisfaction when he didn't look her way. "Thankfully, if you are here, you already know how to get on and off a moving train, so I don't need to teach you that."

Christina chuckled a little before looking your way, "Can you teach us the tuck and roll? It was flawless." You blushed slightly at the praise, something you weren't use to. You nodded and laughed a little "You will all develop your own way of getting on and off without completely fucking yourself up over time. IF you pass, so stay focused." 

"Initiation is divided into three stages. We will measure your progress and rank you according to your performance in each stage. The stages are not weighed equally in determining your final rank, so it is possible, though difficult, to drastically improve your rank over time."

You watch Four as he stops behind Peter, a gun in his own hand, the same one everyone in the room is holding. "We believe that preparation eradicates cowardice, which we define as the failure to act in the midst of fear," says Four. "Therefore each stage of initiation is intended to prepare you in a different way. The first stage is primarily physical; the second, primarily emotional; the third, primarily mental."

"But what..." Peter yawns through his words. "What does firing a gun have to do with...bravery?" Four flips the gun in his hand, presses the barrel to Peter's forehead, and clicks a bullet into place. Peter freezes with his lips parted, the yawn dead in his mouth. "Wake. Up," Four snaps. "You are holding a loaded gun, you idiot. Act like it."

He lowers the gun. Once the immediate threat is gone, Peter's green eyes harden. You dont even try to hold in the laughter that bursts from your lips at his face. You were sure if the gun had been pressed any longer he would've shit himself. You only laugh harder when his cheeks turn bright red. 

"To answer your question...you are far less likely to soil your pants and cry for your mother if you are prepared to defend yourself." Four stops walking at the end of the row and turns on his heel. "This is also information you may need later in stage one. So, watch Y/n." When he turns back to you, he winks before walking to lean against the wall next too you. 

You face the wall with the targets on it—one square of plywood with three red circles on it. You stand perpendicular to the target with your feet roughly shoulder width apart. Holding the gun in both hands, and fires.

 The bang is so loud it should hurt your ears but they are dead to the noise now. "For a right handed shooter, the left hand holds the forestock, elbow pointing down. The right hand holds the grip, elbow pointing out, but not exaggerated." You explain while demonstrating what you mean. 

You turn and fire a few more times, each time just making the hole at the center bigger. All their heads crane to look at your target, most in awe, while Peter just looks more pissed. "Its your turn, Four and I will be around to fix stances and answer questions... As long as they arent stupid." You say looking directly at Peter and then with a small smile at Christina. 

Watching Tris try to shoot is.. painful. She has almost emptied the clip and hasn't hit the target once. While you're in a terrific mood (wonder why) you know she will grate against that. As you walk towards them you hear Will, the Erudite boy speaking too her. "Statistically speaking,you should have hit the target at least once by now, even by accident." He is blond, with shaggy hair and a crease between his eyebrows. 

Hes struggling enough as is, he doesn't need to be correcting anyone. "Is that so?" You say sarcastically as you step between them. You lean to the side and look at his target, which he has only hit once. Looking back to him you try to keep your voice flat, it doesn't work but you tried. "Maybe you should worry about your own target kid.." 

His ears turn pink on the egdes before he turns back, Tris shoots one last time catching the end of the target.. Barley. 

She turns back to him with a smug look on her face, "Guess I got it". You scoff but before you can speak Will says "So you see, I'm right. The stats don't lie." Again you scoff, this time rubbing the muscle that connects your shoulder to your neck. 

"Will.. Sweetheart... Your Erudite is showing.. Tuck it away for me quick yeah?" You say before turning your back to him and clapping your hands together once. "Tris.. You hit the target once.. Barley hit the target once.. If that was a person it would barely qualify as a flesh wound. Depending on how big their clothes are it wouldn't even be a flesh wound.. Do NOT get cocky. Do something half ass right because your angry does not mean anything." 

Walking away from the two you can feel her eyes on you. When you look ahead Four is staring back at her, you roll your eyes before addressing the group. "In the field, the chances that you will be angry are slim. It is more likely that you will be scared, nervous or anxious. None of that should matter as a Dauntless. Your bravery and courage should overshadow everything. So when you do something in anger and it somehow comes out correct, don't take it seriously."

"Take it seriously when you can pick up any weapon and use it as an extension of yourself.  Guns, swords, bow staff.. A metal pipe you find laying around, you need to be able to pack everything besides your job and your life away." You look around refusing to look at Four again, when you see that they all have finished the ammo that has been provided you dismiss them for lunch.

 You take your lunch break in Toris chair, the stinging sensation of your new tattoo present as the ink sinks around your thigh. Tori chuckles and rolls her eyes as you roll to your stomach to get it finished. Some would be ashamed, laying here in your underwear but not you. The finger bruises on your thigh bring you nothing but joy. 

"So.. you and Four still going with this whole friends with benefits thing?" Tori asked while lining everything up. When the buzzing restarted it stung a little more than normal, due to the tenderness of your flesh. You nod and close your eyes allowing yourself a small moment of peace before having to deal with Eric who you know will be at training. 

"I dont see why you two dont just admit you have feelings for each other and get together. Spare us all the long drawn out drama." You smile at Toris bluntness, she always has such a way with her words. 

"My feelings aren't the only ones in this scenario, we both know Four doesn't like me like that. I'm just enjoying it while it lasts." You wait while Tori wipes your leg down, before standing up and handing you the shorts that will now be covering very little of your legs.

Tori looks at you incredulously "That boy has just as many feelings for you as you do him. Your both stupid. But I will be here, the ever wise old lady to hold your hands through whatever drama you both cause."   

You laugh again, feeling free for the first time in a week. The feeling is fleeting though as Tori opens her mouth and asks "How is Tris?" Your face falls and you sigh loudly, "Shes making it hard. She cant walk one line, one minute shes practically hiding behind the others begging to not be seen. Then the next shes in Fours face yelling. She cant shoot but when she clipped the edge of the target she acted like she got a bullseye first shot. I don't know how to deal with her if I'm honest. Im not Tori Wu." 

The dark haired woman in front of you steps up and cups your cheeks. "You are strong Y/n, you can do this. You have too. I don't know what but something is happening, you need to be prepared for it." 

After answering a few more of her questions, all about the new girl you tell her you need to go. Really you needed to go ten minutes ago, but who's counting?? 

When you step into the gym you take a breath to apologize for being late. But when you see Four pressed up behind Tris, his fingers pressed against her stomach as he 'instructs' her you stay quiet. Instead just making your way through the punching bags watching. Stopping only to correct Al's stance, without touching him, before walking away. 

Your showing your weakness by caring so much for him. That voice crows in your head as you keep walking. At this point you've been there a half an hour and Four hasn't noticed. When you stop next to Christina you can feel Tris's eyes burning into the back of your head. "You're doing everything right besides how you're making a fist." 

Christina stops looking down at her hands before releasing her fingers and looking back at you. You smile and congratulate her in your head, if shes silent that means shes learning. Just as you hold your hand up to show her how you want her to do it you hear Tris mumble 'How many ways are there to make a fist?' 

Taking a calming breath you slip into work mode. The mode that sets you apart from the others, the one with no feelings, no worries. Just a solid perfect work ethic. "Your wrapping your thumb around the end of your hand leaving it straight when it should be down. Wrapped over the first knuckle of your pointer finger." 

Showing  her what you mean, you watch her do it and see the annoyed look on her face. You laugh a little before continuing "I know its uncomfortable, but I promise dislocating or breaking your thumb is a lot worse. Plus once it becomes a habit you wont even think about it." You catch a few other students fixing their mistakes around you, which is encouraging. 

"Next your stance is pretty good, but I prefer having a more solid base. You stand squarely facing your target, then drop the foot on your dominant side back and out to an angle, 30 maybe 40 degrees. You should keep your feet a comfortable distance apart, but the exact difference is a matter of personal preference. Some people are taller and can keep their legs further apart like myself. But your on the shorter side so you'll want to be closer." 

The entire time you speak to her you show her with your body how to move. That small voice in the back of your mind is screaming about how you can teach without touching them. How that means Four wanted to touch her, he never touches people. You keep talking over it, trying to be the perfect teacher. Trying to show yourself why you are here. 

"Now the last and most fun part." By this point over half the class is listening to you. Four has stopped walking around and is just watching you teach, but you're studiously ignoring him.

 "The first thing to remember is that the punch should go straight forward, rather than out to the side. The idea is to send your fist out and bring it right back to its original position, with as little extraneous motion as possible.If you flare your arm out, like in the movies, your target will have plenty of time to avoid or block the strike—and you're going to leave yourself wide open to getting a punch in your own face."

"The full punch motion stems from turning your hips." After demonstrating again you watch as Christina does it, smiling at her and offering her a high five. You turn to watch the others and feel pride bloom in your chest as they all start performing the task correctly. 

"Good job Tina.. Peter, Al and Will.. You are all doing well. Keep it up, that's how we work our way up the board." You saw the shock on everyone's face as you congratulated Peter, but you needed to be as unbiased in the 'classroom' as you could. If he failed it wasn't going to be said that you had it out for him. 

You were not going to tarnish your reputation, because of some spoiled brat whose parents told him he was better than others. He would fuck up, and you would be there to catch him. But until then you have to do your best to treat everyone equally. Even Tris. 

After ten more minutes you dismiss them for the night. Reminding them when they need to be in their dorms and not to go out without someone. You make your way out in front of the group, still trying to avoid what is sure to be an awkward conversation with Four.

~

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@coolestgirlhere @everydayisordinary @hannahbeezz @cat-lockwood @parkmiraesworld @leclerc13

Boring part, sorry guys! Ill try harder on the next chapter!

PART SEVEN!!!!

[avonnimimi]

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Plugged

The Series. Part: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 |

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a/n: HEY GURLIES. please don’t hate me for how i turned this around🙏🏽 things will get better trust 💯 @wannabe-fic-reader @hcneymooners @halle5s hope you enjoy pretty girls<3 MEN AND MINORS DNI

content: drug dealer!Vi x black fem reader, arguing, angst, alcohol, violence (kinda), vi with a cocky attitude, phone sex, cheating (?). lmk if i missed anything!

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You woke up on Vi's side of the bed, her scent still lingering, but the spot beside you was empty. For a second, your chest tightened, panic creeping in, but then the sound of clanking pans from the kitchen snapped you out of it.

Your fingers brushed the tender bruise on your cheek, the ache sharp enough to make you wince. You hissed under your breath when you pressed too hard, the sting pulling you straight back into the mess of last night.

Dragging yourself out of bed, you followed the noise. There she was; Vi, back turned, moving around like nothing happened. She was cooking, her broad shoulders flexing under her tattoos, the curve of her muscles catching the dim morning light. She was in her sports bra and boxers, and the sight made your stomach twist in the worst, most frustrating way.

You clenched your thighs together, flashes of last night hitting you hard and fast. She hadn't even fucked you properly, and yet you were still aching, still wet. The way she talked to you, the way she grabbed you, like she owned every piece of you. It made your body burn.

You were too caught up in the memory to notice her turning around until her gravelly morning voice cut through your haze.

"Morning, mama," she said, her tone low, rough in a way that sent a shiver down your spine.

She flicked the stove off and started walking toward you, her eyes already locked on your face. Her hand reached for your cheek, her fingers brushing so soft it almost broke you. But the second she touched the bruise, you flinched and stepped back.

Her hand froze midair, her expression shifting into something you didn't quite recognize; confusion mixed with something darker. Then she scoffed, her lips curling into a tight, annoyed smirk.

"This what we on now?" she asked, her voice sharp, cutting. "For real?"

"I just... I need time to think," you stammered, your voice barely above a whisper. Your arms wrapped around yourself like they could keep you from falling apart. All you really wanted was for her to hold you, to tell you shit was gonna be okay.

But Vi wasn't having it. Her eyes narrowed, and her jaw tightened as she stepped closer. "Thinkin'? You wasn’t fucking thinkin' last night when you was beggin' me to fuck you, huh?"

Her words hit like a slap, your lip trembling as you tried to find something, anything, to say. But she didn't give you the chance.

"Nah, go on. Think all you want. But don't stand here actin' like you don't know what it is." Her voice was low, almost growling now, and it made your chest feel like it was caving in.

"It's not like that," you said, shaking your head. Your voice cracked, betraying how lost you felt. "I just... I don't know what I'm doin', Vi."

Vi let out a dry laugh, but there was no humor in it. "Yeah, I know. You don't gotta tell me that, precious. But lemme tell you somethin'; stop sittin' here tryna convince yourself that Donte love you. That man don't love shit but his ego."

Your chest heaved, her words punching the air right out of your lungs. "He does! He loves me!" you shouted, but even you didn't believe it.

Vi's face hardened, and she grabbed your arm, yanking you closer. Her voice dropped to a dangerous whisper, noses almost touching as your eyes dropped to her lips. "You hear yourself? You sound crazy right now. Like, you really sittin' here defendin' the same dude who left them bruises on you? For what? Huh?"

You tried to pull back, but she wasn't letting go. "He ain't love you, mama. Love don't hit. Love don't leave you lookin' like this."

"Shut up!" you snapped, your voice trembling with anger and shame. Before you could stop yourself, your hand flew up, slapping her across the face.

The sound echoed through the kitchen, and for a moment, everything froze. Vi's head turned from the force of it, but when she looked back at you, her lips curled into the faintest smile, like she liked it.

"You don't know shit about our relationship," you hissed, your voice shaking.

Her smile disappeared, replaced by something colder. "Oh yeah? So why I know he ain't never made you cum? Not once, huh? Tell me I'm lyin', precious."

Your throat tightened, tears stinging your eyes.

"That's what I thought," Vi said, her voice quieter now but no less cutting.

"You ain't stayin' with him cause he love you. You stayin' cause you liked being his little trophy. Like thinkin' he could protect you. But he didn't, did he?"

"Vi, stop," you begged, your voice breaking.

"Nah, you know I'm right," she pressed, stepping closer. "That's why every time you see me, you get all wet, huh? Why your pussy get sticky f'me, cause she knows who the fuck she belongs to. Go head. Tell me I'm wrong."

The tears finally spilled over, your body trembling as her words cracked you wide open. You hated her for saying it, for being right, for seeing through you when you couldn't even see through yourself.

Vi sighed, the fight draining out of her.

When she spoke again, her voice was softer, almost tired. "I ain't tryna hurt you, precious. But you gotta wake up. You killin yourself over someone who don't give a fuck about you."

You couldn't take it anymore. You couldn't look at her, couldn't stand the weight of her words.

"You know where to find me when you figure your shit out," she said, her tone flat. Then she walked away, leaving you standing there with your shame and your tears.

Your hands shook as you called Shay to come get you. Every part of you was burning-anger, embarrassment, heartbreak. And somewhere deep down, that awful, gut-wrenching truth:

she was right.

—

Vi sat on her couch, head leaning back against the cushion, her thoughts heavy and chaotic. She really thought she had you, that you were finally breaking free from Donte’s bullshit. But nah, your head was still caught up in the spiral. She couldn’t even blame you, not fully. You’d been with that dude for years, and she’d only just stepped into the picture. Still, it didn’t make the sting any less sharp.

When Vi overheard you on the phone with Shay earlier, mentioning coming to get you, something in her told her to follow. She didn’t want to seem like a creep, but the thought of you spiraling alone didn’t sit right. Instead of taking her Hellcat, Vi hopped on her bike. It’d be easier to stay lowkey that way.

It didn’t take long to catch up, trailing a few cars behind Shay’s car , pulling up to Shay’s house. Vi parked a distance away, helmet still on, watching. She saw you step out of the car, your face red and puffy, tears still fresh. Your brown nose was almost glowing from how much you’d been crying, and your braids were piled into that messy, floppy bun you did when you didn’t give a damn about how you looked. Shay came out as well, pulling you into her arms, and for some reason, that little scene hit Vi like a punch to the chest.

Vi stayed there for almost an hour, sitting on her bike, second-guessing every instinct she had. But when you and Shay came back out and got in your car, Vi couldn’t stop herself from following. It was loose at first, just keeping her distance, making sure you were okay, but then she saw where you were heading.

Donte’s place.

“Fuck you doin’, mama?” Vi muttered under her breath, kissing her teeth as she rolled her neck in frustration. She should’ve turned around right then, left you to your mess. But she didn’t. She couldn’t.

She parked farther down the block, watching as you knocked on Donte’s door. When he answered, the sight of his beat-up face made you gasp, like you cared. Like this man who’d tried to sell you off deserved your sympathy. Vi’s jaw clenched so hard it hurt. What the hell were you thinking?

And then Donte grabbed your face, yelling at you like you were nothing, making you flinch. Vi’s hands tightened on the handlebars of her bike, her jaw ticking. Her instincts screamed at her to rush over, to throw him through that doorframe and leave him on the pavement. But she didn’t move. Not yet. You needed to see it for yourself. You needed to finally realize what Vi had been trying to tell you: this man didn’t love you. He didn’t deserve you.

But then it happened. He kissed you, and you didn’t pull away. You kissed him back.

Vi’s stomach twisted like she’d been gut-punched. Disgust clawed its way up her throat, and her chest burned like she’d swallowed fire. She couldn’t sit there anymore. Not for another damn second.

Revving her bike, she sped off, making sure the roar of her engine was loud enough for you to hear. You glanced up. You didn’t have to see her face to know it was her. And she didn’t have to see yours to know the guilt that flashed across it.

“Good,” Vi muttered under her breath, her voice cracking in a way that made her hate herself. “Let that shit sink in.”

And with that, she was gone, leaving you to drown in the mess you’d made.

—

That night, Vi found herself in a club she hadn't stepped foot in for years.

As soon as she walked in, the heavy bass hit her chest, and the air was thick with sweat and cheap perfume. The crowd was wild-girls in barely anything, asses shaking, lights flashing like some chaotic fever dream.

She didn't even make it five steps before the DJ's voice cut through the music.

"Aye, hold up-yo, is that Vi?"

A smirk tugged at her lips as she threw her arms up, the spotlight catching her face.

"The one and only!" she called back, grinning like she owned the place. And in her mind, she did.

Seven years ago, this was her spot.

Back then, she couldn't go a weekend without pulling up, drinking, and making the strippers lose their damn minds. Vi slid into her usual booth like no time had passed, legs spread wide, a glass of Henny in her hand, surveying the room like a queen on her throne. Nothing had changed much, not the people, not the vibe. Except her.

She sat there, pretending to enjoy the scene, but her mind wouldn't stop replaying the image of you kissing Donte. Willingly. The thought made her grip tighten on her glass, jaw clenching as she tried to shake it off.

That's when her eyes landed on a stripper working the pole. Candy. She looked different-older, but still moving like she owned every pair of eyes in the room. Candy noticed Vi watching and smirked, bending over to shake her ass in Vi's direction.

Years ago, Vi would've already had her bent over in the VIP room, no hesitation. But now? All she could think about was you. And how you chose him.

Candy didn't let up, though. She climbed off the pole, strutting her way over in nothing but a thong, fishnets, and heels, her chest practically spilling out. The confidence in her stride was magnetic, but it didn't do a thing for Vi tonight.

Candy slid onto Vi's lap, draping her arms around Vi's neck like she belonged there. Her lips brushed against Vi's ear as she whispered,

"Long time, no see, Vi."

Vi took another sip of her drink, unbothered, her expression cold. "Not in the mood, Candy. Not now, not ever."

Candy pouted, leaning closer, her voice dripping with fake seduction.

"What do you mean? The infamous Vi's finally out, and you're not gonna fuck your favorite girl? What a shame..." Her tongue flicked up the side of Vi's neck, testing her limits.

Vi didn't hesitate. In one fluid motion, she pulled her gun and pressed the barrel to Candy's temple. The stripper froze, her breath catching, eyes wide with terror.

"Play with me again, Candy," Vi whispered, her voice low and venomous, "and I swear to God, I'll kill you."

Candy scrambled off her lap so fast she nearly tripped over her heels, running toward the dressing room without a backward glance.

Vi sighed, tucking the gun back into her waistband before leaning her head against the back of the couch. She stared up at the ceiling, her grip tightening on the now empty glass in her hand.

"Fuck me.." she groaned, the weight of everything crashing down on her.

But no amount of Henny or strippers could drown out the image of you with him. Nothing could.

Vi stomped out the club, the cold air biting at her skin as she slid into her Hellcat. The leather creaked under her weight as she leaned back, hands gripping the wheel like it might ground her. She didn't even start the engine when her phone lit up with an unknown number.

"Yo," she answered, voice low, already annoyed.

The line crackled, quiet for a second, then she heard it. Donte.

"Aye, Vi," his voice oozed arrogance, the kind that made her wanna punch through the steering wheel. "I know you fucked wit' this bitch, but guess what? She back in my bed now."

Vi's stomach twisted, a mix of rage and disgust boiling up. Then she heard it; the unmistakable sound of skin slapping, muffled grunts, and... your voice.

Her grip on the wheel tightened, her breathing steady, but her chest burned.

"Tell her how good I fuck you," Donte growled in the background, his words sleazy, disgusting.

Vi closed her eyes for a second, fighting the urge to drive straight to his spot and end it. But she stayed on the line, listening because she couldn't not listen.

Then she heard it; your whimpers, your soft, broken voice cutting through all the noise.

"V-Vi….."

Her eyes snapped open, the sound of your voice pushing her over the edge. You called for her, but she wasn't about to make this easy for you.

"Want me to help you cum, mama?" she said, her tone sharp, taunting, dripping with venom. You didn't say anything, but she could feel you were hesitating, your body reacting to her words through the phone.

"Your lil' pussy gettin' fucked by somebody she don't even want," Vi mocked, her voice low, almost a growl. "Go on, mama. Fuck yourself on his dick. Do it for me."

The rhythm in the background shifted, the slaps changing pace. Vi smirked. She knew you were listening, knew you couldn't help it. "Yeah, that's it," Vi purred, her words slow, teasing. "That feel good? Huh? Feels good, don't it, pretty girl?" She heard your breath hitch, a whimper slipping out, and she grinned.

"Pinch them nipples f'me, mama," she commanded, voice soft but firm, a dangerous edge to it. She heard the sharp intake of breath, the little sound you made when you did exactly what she told you to. "Yeah, baby. Bet it feels better when I do it."

In the background, Donte's dumbass finally chimed in. "Shit, I ain't never felt you this wet before." Vi nearly laughed, shaking her head. "Sad-ass boy," she muttered under her breath, her focus still on you.

"Use your hand, pretty. Play wit' that pussy while he fuckin' you," Vi said, her tone dark and possessive. "Get that pussy real messy for me." She heard a faint "mhm," and her chest tightened, her jealousy fighting with the satisfaction of knowing she had you exactly where she wanted.

"Yeah, that's it, mama. Keep goin' till you cream f'me," she pushed, her voice low and smooth.

And then it happened. She heard your moans break, her name spilling from your lips as you came, loud and clear. “fuckkkk Vi!” Vi heard you moan over the phone.

Vi imaged you, thighs shaking, pussy fluttering and creaming for her, vision so good Vi almost moaned.

The line went dead quiet for a second before Donte lost it, his voice roaring as he grabbed the phone. But it didn't matter. Vi grinned, her head falling back against the seat.

You came for her. Not him. Never him.

Vi sat there, phone pressed to her ear, listening as Donte started wildin'. "Whore," he spat, his voice venomous. "You really came for another nigga Huh?!"

Vi didn't even flinch, her grip on the phone steady. She heard the rustle as Donte snatched the phone, his breathing heavy like he was gearing up to run his mouth.

Before he could even get a word out, Vi cut him off, her tone sharp, dripping with smugness.

"Yeah, bitch," she drawled, her words slow and deliberate. "Ask her who that pussy for. That'll tell you who fucks her good."

The line went dead as Vi hung up, no time for his bullshit.

She tossed the phone onto the passenger seat, her grin growing as she started the engine. The Hellcat roared to life, the sound vibrating through her chest.

Vi gripped the wheel, her smile turning smug as she sped off into the night.

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this is my original post, please don’t repost, translate, or plagiarize my work ;)

©️avonnimimi 2024

[arsonlookers]

Devotion [part 1?]

YAN! Fox God! Childe x reader warning: yandere, obsession, no beta we die like Folcalor,

For over a thousand years since he met you that day, an innocent child who unknowingly helped an injured Fox God of the woods.

That day he met you, he knows, deep inside something changed. His dead eyes met with your pure innocent eyes and got himself, a God, entangled in your life, your fate, until your unfortunate end. He promised and devoted his life to searching for you, to love you, to devote himself to the bone for you,

A God who unknowingly falls in love with a human child, and chains him to his destiny. At first, he actually does not even acknowledge this... feeling...yet, he just thought that it would be fun to tease and scare you in this deep forest, which you are always intrigued to visit.

You were always, always warned to never enter the forest alone, tales of merchants and woodcutters telling stories about the mischievous Fox God that loves to play tricks, pranks, lies, and possibly eat mischievous or scared children who visit his Forest. Alone. It's also in the tales that he is merciless, bloodthirsty, and a crazy God.

As a child at the age of 11, you were always the type of child where your imagination and curiosity clouded your judgment or fear. That is why you always do the opposite of what the adults around you says because you love how it feels new, exciting, and how amazing it is when they say it's dangerous when it is actually not. You want to see it for yourself before you decide or act on it.

There is this one tale that always intrigued you as a child, some people are said to praise the Fox God who brings blessing and abundant wealth to those who he favors, but there are also those who are scared, hate, and reject the Fox God for he is said to be someone who enjoys eating young children and loves young maidens, and Absolutely Loves war, battle, and blood of the people who does not worship him. That, they are a victim of his wrath and prejudice. Or a god who grants wealth and wishes to those he likes.

All tales are said. About the mysterious Fox God who lurks in the Forest just behind your sweet abode.

All the time your parents warn you to never, ever step foot inside the forest. Whatever circumstances, if you ever hear whispers of invite and giggles, you shall not entertain or respond to the said voice.

But have you ever listened?

No...

You never did, One particular winter day your parents were busy with the festival, and you were left alone to guard the house for they believed that you were old enough to do so. your parents raised you responsibly, except for that mischievous side of yours. though for you to learn and grow, they have left you with a big responsibility to guard the house and dont ever leave the house.

It was a simple task, a very simple one that you ended up enjoying your warm abode for yourself. Knowing that even if you are very curious about the forest since your mother always tells you tales of merchants and from fellow woodcutters about the Fox God, you are just also too busy playing with yourself to be curious. Yes, you love the thrill but leaving the house alone in a very cold winter is not a very wise idea even as a child knows that, You convinced yourself that.

That is until you heard a cry. whimpers. can be heard outside your house.

A cry of an animal?, you ran outside your house as you heard the loud cry. and when you were faced with the forest, it was cold, creepy, and scary, but the cry slowly echoed and disappeared inside the forest. These cries now picked your interest, your hands started to shake and you kept looking between your house and the forest in front of you.

But you decided to turn around and go back to your comfortable house until you heard whimpers. again. soft whimpers. this time its closer, still inside the forest but it's like closer.

"what?...whimpers?" You said to yourself

Slowly you decided to get close, and this time you walked and walked, entering the forest hesitantly, you kept looking back to make sure you were not that far away so that if anything happened you could run for your life. As you got closer you could hear the whimpers of a cry clearer and nearer. few more steps in and brushing the bushes away from your vision, there... behold an injured fox.

"a fox?" You asked tilting your head to the side as you approached it slowly and letting yourself not be noticed.

but then the foxes head turns to you...its eyes looks at you...as if pleading, scared, cautious, and curious in its eyes. it has such deep blue eyes, as you stared at it more.

"you ok?" you grabbed a stick and slowly sat a meter away beside the injured fox and started to poke it gently "Are you hurt?"

The fox whimpered, closing its eyes, and looked at its injury. There is a patch of blood on its ankle and a bear trap on its leg and looks back at you pleading... you think.

"that looks bad," you come closer to the injured fox hesitantly, but then start to be not scared to touch his soft fur anymore you examine his actions cautiously and touch its fur more gently and pat his head as if trying to comfort it. "dont worry! mama can help your bubu!" you said excitingly as your eyes shines in determination

"mama always helps with my bubu! maybe she can help you!" You said patting its head gently he was docile as it acted, it just kept looking at you as if observing you closely, and every time you touched a sour part of its injury it started Whimpering again

"oh, sorry sorry, we should get you to Mama!" You stand up from your squat position and try to open the bear trap gently and cautiously so you won't injure yourself, your father always teaches you survival skills and basic hunting since you are their only child, after the successful opening of the bear trap for a few minutes you then try to lift the fox up, but without any strength enough to lift it up, you just worsen and touch the injury which causes the fox to cry louder, so you let go of it, so you get back to your previous position squatting beside it.

"I cant lift you UP!" You whine and pout "Your fat and too HEAvy for me!!" you touch its fur patting it again

You didn't notice it but the fox gave you a looks as if it was offended by what you said, it started to wiggle gently and tried to stand up from its position only for it to fall into the thick snow and back from it laying in the snow whimpering.

"dont! you will hurt yourself more..." you stood up from your position and looks at it.

"I'll be back! I promise! wait here" You walk away quickly and go back to your house, you search for your sled which you always use to carry your heavy things, you take it out and tie a rope in the front and go inside your home and grab plenty of cotton and your favorite warm thick blanket and put it inside the sled.

You quickly go back to the forest with the sled in hand "I'm back! I can help you now!!" you said excitingly

you moved the sled closer to the fox and gently pat its fur again asking for permission "Can I carry you, mr. fox?" you said with your child tone, the fox looked at you and gently moved and rubbed its head in your hand as if confirming to you that it's ok to hold him.

You carry the fox gently in your small arms, supporting it with your small body, and gently place the fox in the sled after some bloody moving, you immediately start your journey back home with your small injured fox in your sled.

After a lot of walking, from afar you can hear someone calling your name.

"Y/n! Y/n! Where are you!?" it sounded concerned and worried as you come closer you can see you parents searching around the house and keeps calling you in a panic.

"Mama! papa!" you called out cutely with you sled in hand you never let go.

They heard you from afar and after seeing you exiting the forest they immediately rushed by your side and hugged you asking you questions about what happened and why did you came from the forest.

your father who looked at you closely sees that you had a sled with you and sees an injured fox

"Y/n! What is this?" he pointed out and tried to distance you from the injured fox

"papa! it needs help! he is injured!" you said rather pitifully

"I wanna help it!" said pleading your father and looking at your mother also pleading

"no, we can't! Y/n! you know how dangerous the forest is and Foxes!" your mother scolded you and tried to make your grip on the sled lose and take you away far distance from the injured fox.

"Mama!" you whined clearly saddened and pleading

"I can treat him! you can help it! pleaseee!" you said looking at her now teary-eyed

they tried to make sense out of you when suddenly the pick up of the snow and the wind started to becomes stronger.

"y/n, we need to go back now" your mother once again tried to take you away but you persisted

"pelasseee pleasseee pleaseeeee" this time you are crying not caring about the cold just crying with the sled in hand, iron gripped.

your father sighed in this sight and admitted defeat, after all its starting to become colder and dangerous the more time all of you are outside, on this upcoming winter storm

"ok, ok but, once it starts to attack I will not hesitate to kill it... understand?" your father warns and glares at the injured fox

You smiled brightly and answered, "yes!, he is a very calm Fox! he didnt hurt me at all!"

after entering the house with your new injured friend you welcomed it inside and looks at your father with pleading eyes

"he is hurt...he needs treatment pleasee" You pleaded again

your father looked at your mother who was now in the kitchen and has a medicinal kit in her hands, she walks in front of you and patted your head.

"I'll try my best, honey. I won't promise anything, understand?" she said calmly with only a small smile in her face

but with her words you smile brightly and goes back to the injured fox side and beamed

"mama! agreed! I'm so happy for you fox!" you said happily

throughout the session, your parent were at first hesitant, and your mother was petrified on the inside since it would be her first time treating a fox. Still, shockingly whenever the fox snarls, and once you pat and hum to the injured fox it immediately calms down, as if understanding that it is fine and nothing to worry about.

After all the treatment your parents tried and practically begged you to leave the fox alone and go back to your room to sleep, but to your stubbornness you didn't.

"I want to stay here, with Fox! I don't want him to be alone here" you said looking at him with sad eyes and looking at your parents with a pleading one

After all the reasoning and banter they gave up on it and ended up all of you sleeping in the living room that night.

You were snuggling yourself gently against the injured fox and talking to the fox as if it understood you it kept its attention fully focused on you, and your stories. until you have fallen asleep and your parents put a warm blanket for the two of you. As they sleep on the couch watching intently, they too fall asleep.

For the past few days a week to be exact your parents just end up trusting you with the fox, after all, they can't always be by your side all the time. They just hoped and always told you that whenever the fox acts violently go to the neighbors' house immediately. And in the night they too just gave up reasoning with you to sleep in your own room, they just always leave a warm and big blanket for you and the fox and two pillows.

for over two weeks now, you have become really close with the fox that you ended up giving him a name.

"Tartar! you can do it" you called to him

right now he is trying to stand up with his injury since it started to heal but the fox however, he still limps every time he walks towards you which makes you worried whenever he falls on the ground.

And this routine repeats the next day, spoiling Tartar and him being sooooooOOOOOooo cuddly with you, to the point that sometimes he growls at your parents when they try to take you away from him, whenever you are asleep. he is watching.

the next morning you keep cuddling him too, he is so warm that you just want to stay cuddling with him. You are very affectionate to him too, you love his eyes, his fur, his warmth, well practically everything. though your parents found it odd and well-protective of you, though it really didn't stop you from spoiling and cuddling with the fox.

as Tartar is recovering fully, it made you sad that your parents told you to let it go, and it made you cry when your one last sleepover with Tartar tonight.

"you-you should take care of yourself out there ok?" you said sniffling and in between your hiccups as you hugged him tightly and snuggles your face and body on his fur

"I'm gonna miss you" you pulled out from his body and offered him a sweet but messy smile, thanks to your snot and tears all over your face.

your snot and tears and a little bit of drool are all over his fur, you just swipe a towel over it and go back to snuggling him again, until you have fallen asleep with your tears.

That night, the fox... or Tartar didn't fall asleep, he kept watching you and your small body thinking

'you should take care of yourself, little child' he snorted though he had this soft gaze on you. he couldn't stop looking at you.

something in his ears picks up sounds upstairs, after all his hearing is pretty good.

"at ...he....the....is going to be released..." you father said

"his eyes..... terrify... and how....it growls... it's weird" your mother's worried, scared, and relieved voice

The fox already knows that both your parents are well, protective, and terrified of him, though he can really see why. You are so sweet, so kind, so cute, so....lovable. over all understandable.

'if only I could take you~' he said in his thoughts planned for you and him, though he could clearly see how terrified and sad you would look if he ever took you away from your parents. You are only just a child, after all, a sweet and ignorant 11 year old human child~

'I can wait~ I promise to wait for you~ my mate' he smirked and snuggled his face into yours, rubbing it to your soft and warm cheek.

A promise he made that night, he will always not break promises since he rarely promises someone after all.

though you will never know that, for now.