#I haven't decided on ray yet

[girlmikeyway]

gerard is literally the size of a mouse droid btw. if you even care

[pocket-prosecutor]

I like to think Kay finds out just after i1-5.

She proceeds to tell Miles that this condition is simply perfect for stealth operations.

[sheliesshattered]

My window to order was starting to narrow, so I finally pulled the trigger on the Captain Accreditation License prop I'd been eyeing for my Batuu Bound birthday outing coming up. It's such a silly little detail, but the reviews are filled with people talking about getting to use it in Galaxy's Edge when the Stormtroopers stop them to ask to see some identification, which sounds like a fun interaction. And like, I can make a great deal of soft kit, I can even put together my own greebles out of foam -- but laser engraving is way outside my wheelhouse and tool access.

But before I could order it, I had to come up with a bunch of info to go on it, like name, home planet, ship type, that sort of thing. I had a basic idea of what sort of character I wanted to portray with my outfit for Batuu, but filling out the info for the pilot's license really made me lock down a bunch of details, which eventually evolved into full on original character creation.

It also got me started in learning to read Aurebesh, the Star Wars transliteration alphabet, but that's a whole other rabbit hole, lol.

Character wise, I started with my absolute love of piloting the Falcon in Smuggler's Run (my desire to do so again was one of the major reasons for deciding to do this for my birthday) and my fav in the sequel movies, Benicio Del Toro's "D.J." character. (The very brief political commentary about weapons manufacturers profiting off both sides of the war, and his little "live free, don't join" axiom are just so amazing, I still cannot believe we got that in a Star Wars movie.)

I also took into account that the timeframe for Galaxy's Edge is between Ep 8 and Ep 9, in roughly 34 or 35 ABY (years after the Battle of Yavin, at the end of Ep 4), and that I want to do the lightsaber building activity at Savi's Workshop the day we visit. The Etsy listing for the license also had an interesting little note about choosing a homeworld, calling out that 'because of well-known galactic events' Alderaan would only be an option for characters over the age of 40 or so. That comment got my mental gears turning, and sent me down the path of researching the year that Disney's Batuu is set in, etc.

At that same time, I was trying out different potential hairstyles for keeping my waist-length hair controlled during a day at Disneyland while still looking Star Wars-y. I tried a couple of Rey inspired hair styles, but eventually settled on something much more like Leia's looks in Ep 5 and Ep 6, with multiple braids wrapped around the crown to form a full circle. It's easy and comfortable and will keep my hair from tangling and works well with my hooded wrap thing, so I decided that hairstyle would be part of my look, and part of my character building.

So at that point I had: pilot, politically unaffiliated, soon to own a lightsaber, emulating Princess Leia and/or Alderaanian hairstyles, and grew up mostly after the fall of the Empire and probably wouldn't remember (or only just barely remember) the destruction of Alderaan. On that last point I was splitting the difference slightly -- if I translated my real age now into the Star Wars timeline (and Galaxy's Edge being set in ~35 ABY), then I would have been roughly 8 years old when Alderaan was destroyed. But in reality, I was born shortly after Ep 5 came out, and my earliest memories of Star Wars are knowing all about the movies, playing Star Wars make-believe with other kids in the neighborhood, and being excited that Ep 4 was going to be airing on TV.

After a lot of noodling on this, while sewing or driving or trying to fall asleep, the character started to come together in my head. Her mother was born and raised on Alderaan, but around age 20 (in 2 or 3 BBY, roughly) met a dashing young pilot on a freighter passing through, fell in love, and left Alderaan to be with him. They got married and lived mostly in the hyperspace lanes for a couple years, jumping from place to place. When she found out she was pregnant, she temporarily went back to Alderaan to be with her family and have her baby there. In the last year before the Battle of Yavin, she had a baby girl she named Samæni Ray, and after a few weeks she and the baby left Alderaan to meet up with her husband again.

So none of them were on Alderaan when the Death Star targeted and destroyed the planet. In the wake of the tragedy, the Alderaanian diaspora would have pulled together all across the galaxy, trying to get word of anyone who might have survived. And then, a miracle: Princess Leia somehow survived! The princess that Samæni's mother had grown up idolizing from afar, someone similar to her in age and physical appearance (pictures of my real mother from the 1970s bear a striking resemblance to Carrie Fisher in the same time period) -- the princess that Samæni's mother had loved for as long as she could remember, she not only survived but she stepped up to lead the Resistance against the Empire!

You know those people in real life who like, collected merchandise about Princess Diana? Yeah, that's Samæni's mom, but with Princess Leia, lol.

The war to overthrow the Empire only lasted for another 5 years or so, ending with the Battle of Jakuu in 5 ABY. So I figure Samæni might have vague early childhood memories of her parents celebrating the end of the war. They weren't actively members of the Resistance, and Samæni's father was much more politically neutral, preferring to focus on his work as a freighter pilot, but as far as Samæni's mother was concerned, anything Princess Leia did was a blessing on the galaxy, so it would have been a big deal for her, both during the war and in the years after as the New Republic was established.

During those early years of the New Republic, Samæni's father's freight business continued to do well, and she mostly grew up in her family's Gozanti-class cruiser, as they moved things from one planet to the next. She learned to pilot at her father's side, eventually sat for a pilot's license exam as a young adult, and then struck out on her own. Samæni's first job as a pilot was for a company that operated light freighters as party ships, allowing those with modest disposable income to see the galaxy in style but without the expense of a yacht cruiser. (The company probably had a ridiculous tagline like: "From here to thar with an open bar!")

Since those early jobs-for-hire, Samæni saved up enough money to buy her own little light freighter and start an inport/export business in which she (and her partner Jack) go to outer rim worlds to buy antiquities, oddities, and rare objects and bring them back to an upper-middle class clientele in the core worlds and inner rim. Their current ship is a bit of an antique itself, a Kazellis-class light freighter that is flashy enough to fit in in the nicer areas of Coruscant, but hard-working and easily repairable enough to take Samæni and Jack to all those far-flung worlds with treasures to acquire. Their ship has room for some larger pieces, but most of the cargo area has been converted into full-time living quarters, since they rarely stay planet-side for very long.

Their home-port is the ecumenoplis planet of Denon, an inner-rim world that sits at the intersection of two major hyperspeed trade routes. Denon was the closest thing to a homeworld that Samæni had growing up, and her parents have since retired to the equatorial area of the planet, in a community with a lot of other retired pilots and haulers and ship mechanics. (Her father's favorite local cantina is named for the CEC catalog part number for a replacement hyperdrive lever. He and all his old pilot buddies think it is hilarious.)

Samæni's mother continues to talk about Princess Leia like they are close friends (despite never actually having met her), and keeps informed on the rise of the First Order and the resistance to it mostly because she has set up HoloNet news alerts for General Organa. But Samæni takes more after her father in that regard, doesn't particularly care about politics or taking sides in any civil war, other than how it impacts business. The destruction of the Hosnian system by the First Order's Starkiller Base is enough to push Samæni towards siding against the First Order, but she still isn't about to rush out to join the Resistance, either.

Her pilot's license lists Denon as her homeworld, and it would take some dedicated digging to find that her planet of birth is actually Alderaan. She only lived there for the first few weeks of her life, and her only memory of it is how sad it's always made her mother. The traditional hairstyles and the stories about Princess Leia are really the only parts of the culture that she inherited. Samæni has never wanted to talk about being from Alderaan with anyone, and as the Empire's successor has come to power in the last few years, it's seemed even more dangerous to let anyone outside of close friends and family know that she is technically a survivor of the last time a galactic power was going around destroying planets.

Samæni and Jack are heading to the outer rim world of Batuu to visit Dok Ondar's Den of Antiquities, and follow up on a tip about Savi's crew of 'scrap metal' gatherers, in case there's something there that might sell well on a core world. Arriving to find that both the Resistance and the First Order have a presence in Black Spire Outpost will be less than ideal, but Samæni and Jack have been to enough rough ports across the galaxy that they know how to keep their heads down and stay out of trouble.

And hey, if First Order troopers stop to ask them for ID, Samæni will have a genuine pilot's license to show them. ;)

[bad268]

Love your writingg!!

Could you write a oneshot with ollie when reader couldn't make it to a race and she got sick while at home but didnt tell ollie cuz it couldve made him shit the race and he comes back home at takes care of herr??

+hiii!! idk if ure still taking request, but maybe an ollie x reader where she gets her wisdom tooth out and the aftermath is just her being chaotic and funny while ollie just goes with everything.

but yeah, i think it’s pretty cute. thank you!

Boyfriend Of The Year (Ollie Bearman X Reader)

Fandom: RPF/F2/F3

Requested: Clearly (I just did a sick fic, so i decided to incorporate these. Hope yall don't mind <3)

Warnings: Wisdom teeth surgery and recovery

POV: Majority Second Person (You/your), some Third Person (They/them)

W.C. 2301

Summary: A routine dentist appointment turns into a secret to keep Ollie sane.

As always, my requests are OPEN

MASTERLIST // HITLIST

~~(^Pinterest)

Your phone was blowing up with texts from Ollie. He was probably wondering where you were at this point since you promised to be at the qualifying session, but due to a dentist appointment scheduled between the sessions, you had to split up. Ollie and his dad drove together, and you took an uber to your appointment. Well, at that dentist appointment, you found out that your chronic jaw pain was actually your wisdom teeth getting dangerous. They were growing inwards and pressing your teeth, so your dentist strongly encouraged an emergency wisdom teeth removal for the same day. Ollie was going to be pissed and you knew it.

“Hey, CareBear,” You greeted in a fake tone. You were still at the dentist, but you stepped outside to get a little bit of privacy. “What’s up?”

“Don’t ‘Hey CareBear’ me! Where are you? You said you were gonna be here,” Ollie asked. He was finally able to let out a breath after running around the paddock trying to find where you were. When he couldn’t find you, he started asking around, but no one had seen you. Then, he started calling you, and coincidentally, the calls were during your x-rays or consultation, so you were not answering. It was driving him insane. “Are you almost here?” 

“The dentist was short-staffed, so they haven't gotten me in yet,” You came up with on the fly. You knew he would hate that you lied to him, but he would also throw his entire race weekend away for you. Yes, it was adorable and it’s part of what made you love him, but this was not the time to be a loving boyfriend. This was the time to show everyone why he deserved the Haas seat. He could be boyfriend of the year afterward. “I can text you when I’m done, but I need to see them today. You know how bad my jaw has been hurting lately.”

“Oh?” Ollie smirked as he lowered his voice, about to make a joke but his dad walked right past him.

“Don’t even start, Oliver,” You pressed as you saw your dentist gesturing for you to come back in, so they could prepare you for the surgery. “Listen, CareBear, I gotta go. I think they’re ready to take me back. I’ll text your dad to pick me up when we start wrapping up. You need to get back for debrief or start preparing for quali.”

“Yeah, I should probably eat something,” Ollie said to himself as he scratched the back of his neck. He had never had to go into qualifying without you, so he was a bit nervous. However, he totally understood that this was something you needed to do. “I’ll get on pole for you.”

“I expect you in the top 22, nothing less,” You joked as you both said goodbye and hung up the call. You headed back inside as they started giving you the rundown on how the surgery would occur. For once, you were thankful for scheduling your appointment in the morning and not eating beforehand. Just before they would put you under, you decided to call Ollie’s dad. It didn’t take long for him to answer.

“Hey, Y/n,” David greeted immediately as he walked toward the back of the garage, “Need me to pick you up? That was awfully quick.”

“Actually no,” You chuckled nervously. “Don’t tell Ollie until after quali, but I’m getting my wisdom teeth out right now. If we tell him, he’s going to freak out.”

“Was this the plan the whole time?” He asked, quieting down as Ollie walked by nonethewiser. He was finishing up before he would be getting in the car, so he had enough on his plate, in your opinion.

“No, I just found out that the jaw pain I thought was the start of TMJ was actually my wisdom teeth growing inwards,” You explained with a smile as you watched your dentist finish setting everything out. “Listen, David, I’ll need you to pick me up in like an hour. Maybe after qualifying break it to him? Or just let him figure it out when I’m loopy. I really don’t care.”

“I’ll take care of him, don’t worry,” David reassured as he saw Ollie gesturing for him to come over before he would get in the car. “Have them call me when you’re done, and we’ll pick you up.”

You thanked him before ending the call and heading into the back where the operation would take place. 

The qualifying session went by quickly for Ollie because it was basically a one-lap shot. Right after the first laps, it started pouring rain, so when Ollie was at the top of the timing page, no one was able to beat him. He tried to call you as soon as he got out of the car, but every call went straight to voicemail. It freaked him out a little, but he brushed it off, thinking you were still getting your cleaning. It wasn’t until his dad was ushering him to change and get to the car park almost as soon as he wrapped up media that he started thinking something was wrong. Ollie sat nervously in the passenger seat as his dad drove in silence, which was completely unusual for him, so he decided to try and break the tension.

“So, dad,” He dragged out as he looked over at his dad. They pulled up to a red light, and David looked at Ollie. “Where are we going?”

“The dentist,” David said simply as he moved the car into first gear when the light changed. “We need to pick Y/n up.”

“Shouldn’t they have finished up during quali?” Ollie asked before muttering to himself, “I thought they would have been in the garage by the end of media.”

“They had to get some work done,” David responded. It was light-hearted, so Ollie wasn’t too worried. When they pulled up, he parked the car but made no move to get out for a second, causing Ollie to look over confused. “They had to get their wisdom teeth out.”

“What? Why didn’t you tell me?” Ollie freaked out, immediately getting out of the car and trying to reach the front door before his dad. Unfortunately for him, his dad anticipated this and beat him to the punch by blocking the door. “Dad, let me in.”

“No, you need to understand why we didn’t tell you,” David pressed as he put a hand on Ollie's shoulder and sheered him back toward the car. “They didn’t want you to be nervous in qualifying. It’s getting to the end of your season, and next year, you’ll be in F1. Everyone’s eyes are on you, and the last thing they wanted was for you to get nervous and risk your position in the championship.”

“That makes no sense! I wouldn’t have thrown the session!” Ollie disputed as he threw his hands up.

“Oh, please,” David tsked, “You almost crashed the car when you found out they had a headache a few months ago. Of course, you wouldn’t completely compromise your qualifying session knowing they were getting surgery. That sounds totally believable to me.” 

“Maybe you have a point,” Ollie mumbled as he dripped his hands to his sides in defeat. He looked back over to his dad as he sighed, “Can we go in now?”

“Are you going to cause a scene?”

“No.”

~

POV Switch-Third POV

All the while, Y/n was just waking up. The team had wrapped up the surgery at the end of qualifying and called David, saying he didn’t need to rush since they still needed to ween Y/n off of the meds and they still needed to pass the memory tests.

Y/n didn’t remember even waking up, but they did semi-register people walking in, around, and out of their room. Most of them were dentists or nurses checking their vitals, but then two people walked in that didn’t look like a dentist or nurse. It was Ollie and David, but Y/n was still too out of it to recognize them (or what they were saying to be honest).

“So they’ll be a little loopy for a while,” one of the dentists said to David, causing him to nod. Ollie had already taken a seat beside you and was holding your hand. The dentist then took David out of the room to talk about how to help clean the wounds and give him a list of foods that Y/n could eat while recovering. Ollie wanted to say something, anything to Y/n but they ended up talking before him.

“Whoever is your significant other is lucky because damn you’re hot,” Y/n chuckled slightly as they fell back against the pillows and smiled sleepily as they looked at him. “They’re like really lucky.”

“Well, you’ll be happy to know that you’re my significant other,” Ollie chuckled with them as he brought their hands up to kiss their knuckles.

“No way!” Y/n said as loud as the gauze in their mouth could allow as their eyes almost fell out of their head. “You’re telling me I bagged you?!”

“You bagged me,” Ollie chuckled in disbelief. He was upset at first that Y/n didn’t tell him sooner, but he couldn’t find it in himself to be mad at them, especially when they said something like that. “If I tell you a word, can you remember it for me?”

“Anything for you, handsome,” Y/n shamelessly flirted as they leaned in a little closer to prop their head against Ollie’s free hand that was resting by their head. 

“The word is ‘pole’,” Ollie said, and Y/n repeated it a couple of times before nodding that they understood it. “Okay, how are you feeling now?”

“I’m feeling tired. I wanna sleep. I wanna eat. I’m hungry. I want someone to tell me what place Ollie is in for the race tomorrow,” Y/n ranted before gasping toward the end, remembering the qualifying session they missed. In the haze, Y/n’s brain never connected that Ollie was sitting in front of them as they went on a rant. “Ollie Bearman is my favorite driver, and I wanna know where he placed. Do you know Ollie?”

“I know of him, yeah,” Ollie said as he bit back a laugh. There was no way he was witnessing this. “I think I know where he placed.”

“Where?” Y/n gasped as they tried to sit up in the bed, but the vitals machine started going off, causing a few personnel to walk in, but Ollie was already pushing them back.

“What was the word from earlier?”

“Pole?” Y/n said confused before it finally connected, “Wait, pole position?”

“Yup, he’s on pole for the feature race,” Ollie smiled at their enthusiasm. “Now, what’s my name?”

“What’s your name? CareBear?”

“Well, yes, but what’s my real name?” 

“Oliver,” Y/n dragged out before the fog cleared enough for them to make the connection. “Wait! Ollie, my CareBear! You’re Ollie!”

“I am,” Ollie chuckled as he leaned over to place a kiss on Y/n’s forehead while the dentists started removing wires and needles from Y/n, so they could leave. Ollie wrapped an arm around their shoulder, knowing Y/n didn’t like needles. He took to whispering reassurance in their ear until they were cleared to leave. Ollie then asked, “You still sleepy?”

Y/n didn’t respond as they were already asleep, so when all of the paperwork was signed, Ollie picked Y/n up to carry them to the car.  The entire ride to the hotel, Y/n was asleep against Ollie’s shoulder until David pulled into the parking spot. That’s when Y/n woke up, stretching their arms above their head.

“I still wanna sleep,” Y/n whined as they leaned back against Ollie. “My legs feel like jelly.”

“I can always carry you again,” Ollie commented already getting out of the car and moving around to help Y/n out. As soon as Y/n stepped out, Ollie’s arm was lifting up their legs to carry them up to their room. Thankfully, David was already leading the way and opening doors for them.

“You’re really working for that Boyfriend Of The Year award, aren't you?” Y/n teased as they plopped their head against Ollie’s shoulder.

“I didn’t know I was in the running,” Ollie joked back as he left a kiss on their nose.

“You’re always in the running,” Y/n pouted before going on another tangent, “Y’know, I’d love to kiss you, but I can’t really feel my lips so I don’t know how that would go.”

“I’ll give you a kiss when you don’t have bloody gauze in your mouth,” Ollie said as he walked up to the door. “Does that sound like a deal?”

“Add some ice cream or smoothies and you’ve got a deal.”

“You can’t drink from a straw, so no smoothies.”

“Buzzkill.”

“Not a buzzkill,” Ollie said simply as he set Y/n down on the bathroom counter, so he could change their gauze. “We’re not risking you getting dry socket.”

“Kissass.”

“How does that make me a kissass?” Ollie chuckled as he helped Y/n down from the counter and to the bed. Ollie fixed the pillows around them to make them comfortable before grabbing an icepack from the freezer. 

“You know the judge of the Boyfriend Of The Year award, and you’re kissing their ass,” Y/n chuckled as they leaned back into the pillows and took the icepacks from Ollie, immediately pressing them against their face. “Let me say, you’re winning.”

“I would hope so,” Ollie retorted, “I should be the only one in the running!”

~~~~~

© BAD268 2024. DO NOT REPOST WITHOUT PERMISSION.

[allbark-no-bite]

american boys hate to lose.

jake seresin x reader (wc: 6.2k)

summary: you finally get a taste of Jake Seresin, but you may have bit off more than you can chew

warnings: 18+ smut, heavy sexual themes, lack of use of condoms

author’s note: part 2 of ‘don’t write check you can’t cash’ is here! i would highly recommend reading that before this but do with that what you will. dare i say there will be a part 3?

(you can read part 1 here!)

————————————————————————

You can feel his eyes on you, burning into the back of your head, daring you to turn around and meet his gaze. You haven't so much as looked back in his direction since the training meeting started but you know he's there and you know that he's looking at you.

If you were more reasonable, you'd write it off as the residual heat of the evening seeping in through the window of the ready room being cast upon the back of your neck, warming your skin with it's golden orange hue. Such a feeling would render you lazy and cat-like, content enough to slouch in your chair and soak up the rays until only the ending of the meeting would force you to move from your state of tranquility.

Instead you sit up right in your chair, rigid and uncomfortable as your skin buzzes feverishly.

It's the same scrutinizing feeling that you felt that day out on the tarmac and the same one that you felt as he stood back and watch you play pool at the Hard Deck.

It's ridiculous it what it really is, the fact that you're not grown up enough to just turn around and ask him what the fuck his problem is. He's the one who very clearly laid down the law. He has no right to test your strength to adhere to it.

And tested you he has.

Jake's been at your throat all week. It was almost as though he had decided that he couldn't have you and therefore he would hate you enough to make up for it.

"Had enough, Lieutenant?"

From your limited line of sight—face down in the position of a push-up—all you can see are the scuffed toes of his tan combat boots. He's crouched down on the pavement, balanced on the balls of his feet, leaning down beside you so that he's inches from your ear.

Not yet ready to answer him, all you can do is huff under the strain of your screaming muscles, which are about fifty push-ups past fatigued. You can hear the uncomfortable murmurs of the rest of the Dagger squad watching yours and Jake's show down from a distance.

He'd been a bitch all day. Nagging, nitpicking, critiquing every little thing you did both in and out of the air. Finally, you had had enough.

"I said, have you had enough, Lieutenant!?"

His voice was so familiar and yet utterly foreign in the moment. It caused that twisting feeling in the pit of your stomach to return, the one that you didn't know what to make of. As if you couldn't decided whether you were pleased at his attention or fed up with his attitude.

Gasping, you swallow a glob of spit in your throat, trying to pull yourself together. You're not sure how much longer you can hold this position before you physically collapse. A groan escapes you unwillingly.

"As soon as you say you've had enough, you can get up. Until then, I've got all day."

You could feel the tension in the air between the two of you. It had been building steadily for the entirety of the day and this altercation had appeared to be its breaking point.

You stare at the ground, hoping he will take your silence as an answer.

A part of you was glad that you couldn't see his face and he could't see yours. It's hard to look him in the eyes sometimes.

Bradley must notice your agitation because he cocks you a questioning a brow when you finally catch his eye, having been viciously chewing on your pen into order satiate your frustration whilst listening to Maverick give his brief. You wave off his concern with a dismissive flick of your hand, as if to indicate that it's nothing for him to worry about.

You doubt he's convinced but he doesn't push you any further. If he thought Jake was bothering you, he'd be out of his chair and across the room in a matter of seconds. You don't know how you would explain to him that you haven't been able to forget the press of Jake's body against yours at the pool table or the way his voice dripped down and seeped into your spine even as he yelled at you.

The sound of papers flipping and notebooks closing draw you back to the present.

"You're dismissed. Your report time is at o'six hundred tomorrow," Maverick states, bringing the meeting to a close.

Your eyes dart to the clock mounted on the wall, unaware that the time had eluded you so quickly. You're evidently so distracted that Rooster's already gone by the time you gather up your things. Something about a hot date, he'd said.

Glad to finally escape the tension that is this room, you can already feel the ease flooding back into your body, that prickling feeling of dread and restlessness finally leaving your skin as you reach for the door. Instantly the world feels a little brighter, like maybe you'll even brave the evening traffic just to take the scenic route home, roll your windows down so that you can hear the waves breaking on the beach and smell the salt air.

A voice jerks you from your day dream, and immediately you're reminded of just the reason for your foul mood.

"You know, you're a bigger thorn in my side than I thought you were going to be."

You stop just outside the doorframe and the door swings shut. There's no one but the two of you left in the room.

"Is that your way of saying that you're not used to people not letting you push them around?

"I'm saying most people don't enjoy being yelled at."

His green eyes twinkle and his mouth pulls into a smirk that dares you to challenge his statement.

You swallow the spit in your throat, biting your tongue because you know that your argument won't come out convincing enough.

"You were being a bitch," you say instead.

"You wanted me to be."

"That's all I can seem to get from you."

Rather than the snarky reply that you've already braced yourself for, Jake takes two steps towards you and immediately you shuffle backwards, meeting the wall in the process. With nowhere to go, you have no choice but to remain trapped between him and the wall of the room.

Now cornered, he is dangerously close.

A sharp but smokey musk stings your sinuses— one that will become synonymous to you with his presence. The stench of jet fuel makes you lightheaded for just a moment before you snap back to the present.

His sharp green eyes narrow down at you. Your face feels hot under his gaze. Eye contact is becoming a common theme for the two of you. You can't look away.

He is close. Very close. In retrospect, he has never had any concept of personal space. Since the day you met Jake, you have always been somewhat off-put if not startled by his forwardness. The way he had reached out to correct your posture at the pool table without prior warning nor consent had nearly killed you.

He was going to kill you.

Hardly breathing, you take him in with a certain clarity. You haven't been able to put your finger on it, but his face has a certain rawness to it — a natural ruddiness that you can't explain. The waterlines of his green eyes are invariably tinged a pale pink, likely permanently wind burnt, and his nose is always a touch red. Early traces of crows feet pull at the corners of his usually hooded green eyes. Speaking of, now you realize they're not even all that green. The soft golden tint becomes apparent looking into his eyes. If it weren't for their undeniable vibrance, maybe you would be able to breathe right now.

Your attention falls down to his plump pink lips. And maybe those. They shine with a particular wetness, and your cheeks burn with the thought.

His hand lifts from his side and immediately your eyes fly back up to meet his gaze, praying he hasn't caught you staring. Instead he curls his fingers into the side of your jaw and stares at you with that infuriatingly unreadable expression on his face. You wish that for just once in his life he'd express some sort of overt emotion. He doesn't speak, and all you can do is swallow against the press of his thumb.

Your mouth parts slightly, attempting to speak, to say something —anything to alleviate the silence— but nothing escapes besides a noiseless breath of air.

Jake dips his head down timidly, as though he's testing the waters.

Unable to comprehend what he's doing, your first reflex is to replenish the distance between you, and your head jerks backwards. However, it is forced to come to a stop when it hits the wall a millisecond later.

Jake pauses, mouth inches from yours.

Despite the panic that is threatening to take control of you, telling you to push him away, to tell him to stop because this is entirely wrong, you do nothing but stand frozen. Your heart is in your throat, pounding hard enough to stall your breath.

I want this if you want this, but not if you don't, you want to tell him. I will find a way to go on if you don't.

The muscles in his jaw clench, like he's trying hard to make up his mind.

And then without warning, his mouth captures your lips in a hard kiss, driving them open with the force of it. Gone is his previous hesitation. He is voracious; all tongue and teeth. You swear you feel the wall rattle against your back as he pushes you against it.

The thought that anyone could walk in at any moment hardly even flashes through your mind. All there is is the bruising force of his mouth on yours, pulling you further and further into the inescapable depths of desire.

Your hand finds the short crop of his blonde hair and fists into it, tugging roughly on the golden strands. It makes him grunt, the noise muffled by the press of his lips against yours. Jake's hands find your hips, his fingers tearing at the fabric of your flight suit to bring you closer to his body.

When your lips part to breathe, he licks into your mouth, tongue dragging along the slick of your teeth just so that he can taste you. Like he's been just as desperate to taste you as you've been. One of his hands finds the length of your throat and wraps around it, using his thumb to tip your jaw back up so that he can capture your lips in another bruising kiss.

Your need for air forces you to place a hand on his chest, pushing him away hard enough that he gets the hint. It takes more force than it should, and Jake pulls away, breathing hard.

As your senses come back to you, so does your common sense, and all you can think is: there's no way that just happened.

The sight of his flushed cheeks, blown pupils, and swollen, spit slick lips is what kicks you into gear. Anyone could walk in here at any moment. You can't even begin to explain how bad of a situation that could be.

"We should go," you breathe, heart still pounding in your chest.

Rather than pulling away, Jake lingers, hovering over you. "Go where?" he hums. "I've got you right where I want you." His mouth dips down to the barely exposed part of your collar. You swallow thickly as his mouth moves up to your neck, lip pressing to your exposed throat.

"Really," you stress, a bit desperately, your eyes darting to the closed door as he kisses up your neck. "We can't stay here."

To your immense relief, Jake finally pulls away.

"Okay," he agrees, a bit too easily. "I'll bring you home."

——

The car ride is strange but not uncomfortable. Strange because you keep looking over to your left and Jake is sitting there, one hand on the wheel, aviators perched on his nose as he watches the road. Strange because he doesn't ask you for directions, just drives in comfortable silence, the radio turned low enough that you can still hear the gulls squawking as you drive by the beach.

You turn to look at him as he pulls the truck to a stop and reaches for the keys to turn off the ignition. He's smiling and doing a poor job of concealing it.

"I didn't invite you in," you inform him, although your voice doesn't sound too firm in the statement. You'd been so sure that you wanted this back when he was kissing you, but now that the aftermath of your decision is playing out, you're nervous you're making a mistake.

You'd known that anything involving Jake was a risky game from day one. Between his looks and the all-American southern boy charm, it was a dangerous combination. There's a difference between wanting the idea of something and actually having it.

Jake just huffs, his smile still nonchalant as he looks over at you. "I can't walk you to the door?"

You can feel your stomach twisting again. "I suppose."

Your fingers feel numb and tingly as you push the key into the lock on the door and twist, your heart a bit in your throat because you're all to aware of Jake standing less than a foot behind you. It takes you a few shaky tries but the door finally cracks open.

Realizing that you can't avoid the inevitable any longer, you turn back around to face Jake. He's leant against the side of the doorframe, arms crossed in front of his chest and looking not at all like he isn't supposed to be here.

You stare and him and he stares back at you.

Without a word, he steps forward, into your space, and leans down with the intention to kiss you. Your stomach twists tighter than it was before. You turn your head before he can kiss you, and you feel his lips brush your cheek. 

"You can come inside. I- I just need a moment," you confess. "Maybe a glass of wine or two."

Jake chuckles as he draws away, giving you the space that you silently asked for, and for that you're grateful. 

"Okay," he concedes. "Lead the way, then."Once inside, you set your things down and escape for the moment of space that you need to clear your head under the pretense of needing a shower. It's not totally untrue. The day had been busy, more so than usual, and you were still sticky with sweat. You leave Jake in the kitchen to find the wine on his own.

While the tub fills, you're finally able to rid yourself of the clothes that you have been donning since the day began at roughly 6 am. Though you're usually a shower person, you've learned a bath is the most effective way get rid of the stress of the day.

The scalding water welcomes you and a sigh escapes your mouth when you sink down to your shoulders. The basin is deep enough that it could fit two people comfortably. You unpleasantly note that that's a thought you've never had until now.

The steam releases the tension from your shoulders and eases your persistent headache. Although you are well aware that Jake is just a few rooms away in the kitchen, the urge to close your eyes and sink in is too much to resist.

He had leaned in first. Backed you against the wall of the ready room and hovered inches from your face. There had been an out. It was brief, but it had been there. And you just stood there, barely breathing, watching him. You had seen the gun in his hands and willed him to use it.

His mouth was just as hot and demanding as you had come to know him. You remember breathing in and all you could smell was him, feel his hand on your jaw, his fingers digging into your skin. He had been the one to pull away, although just barely, and hovered inches from your face once again.

Being so close to him, it was the first time you had noticed the gold in his jade green eyes. From a distance, they were a stark green, but your new found proximity told a different story. You have not been able to see them as anything other than that obscure green ever since.

You break the water's surface and draw in a deep breath, smoothing your wet hair away from your face.

"I was beginning to think you weren't going to come back up." Jake is leaning against the open door frame, his arms crossed in front of his chest.

You hum, blinking the dripping water away. "Sorry," you murmur, although you don't know what you're apologizing for. He could do that, draw apologies from your mouth even when you had done nothing worthy of forgiveness.

He sighs and moves across the bathroom with languid familiarity, and you have to remind yourself that this is real. It is a strange concept to grasp, seeing him here, in your house. It's surreal to you, the thought that he exists beyond the base and is so domestic.

"Wasn't looking for an apology, kid. Just came to bring you some wine." He produces a glass that you failed to notice originally and sets it on the ground next to him, crouching down beside the tub. One of his hands dips in to swirl the water with the tip of his finger.

Though he doesn't stare, you are keenly aware that he can surely see more than just your naked shoulders through the clear bath water. Strangely, you don't flush at the thought.

His chin comes to rest on the edge of the tub, and his green eyes watch you with a curious guile. It is a look that you have come to enjoy for its fleeting but ensuring familiarity.

You sink back into the tub, feeling the tickle of the water as it laps at the nape of your neck. "You just wanted an excuse to look."

The corner of his mouth quirks faintly upwards. "I'll take what I can get."

As you watch each other, you come to the realization that you could want this. This moment. This life. Him.

For a glimmer of a second, you see yourself making dinner, a green eyed toddler balanced on your hip. The dog he didn't want barks at the front door as his truck pulls into the driveway. He finally walks into the kitchen after a long day in the air and wraps himself around you from behind—

Jake wiggles his fingers in the water, disrupting the calm surface of it.

"Get in," you invite him. It's a well intended, genuine proposition, and one you see no problem with. After your breach of professionalism in the hangar, sharing a bath seemed to rank decently low on the scale of scandal.

"No," he huffs, dismissing the idea, but his eyes twinkle, at least humoring you in his refusal.

Not allowing yourself the be disappointed with his answer, you let your cheek rest against the rim of the tub with a wistful smile. "Should I get out then?"

His fingers brush the inside of your knee and ghost down your calf. "No," he says again. "I like you like this."

Naked. Exposed. Relenting.

You smile at each other with your lips pressed together to convey what the two of you won't say out loud. Something inside you knows he won't be this way tomorrow. He won't share this same look with you, won't be this gentle or tangible again.

His hand curls around your ankle, his thumb working into a particularly tender spot. You wince, a hiss escaping through your teeth as you refrain from jerking your foot away from his digging fingers. It hurts at first, the rough massaging of his fingers into the muscle, but the discomfort dissipates when he draws your foot up and places a delicate kiss to the arch. You feel your cheeks warm. His green eyes linger on you.

"We should talk," you murmur softly.

"About?" he hums coyly, pressing another tender kiss to your ankle. The hot trail of his lips lingers on your skin.

Getting him to talk has been like pulling teeth, and it's obvious that's not about to change now.

As much as you want to remain here with his lips pressed to your skin for forever, you sit up in the water to face him, and he pliantly releases your ankle back into the bath. Without saying anything, you lean forward and search his eyes for any sort of sign of what all this is about, wondering if it's some sort of sick joke and he's just fucking around with you.

His green eyes do nothing but watch you keenly, his eyebrow quirking as he stares back at you. What exactly you're looking for, you don't know. You want to ask him what the hell you're doing here, sitting in your bathroom, too close to be considered professional, but all you can do is stare and listen to the sound of his breathing.

Your bodies have drifted closer to each other during the process, only separated by the rim of the bathtub. Your faces mere inches from each other, he tips his chin up and your noses brush. You can feel the hovering warmth of his lips over your own. The exhale that escapes you is shaky and surely he hears it. Jake's gaze dips to your parted lips and then flickers back up. With more care than you would have imagined him capable of, he presses his mouth to yours.

This kiss is more hesitant than the first, softer and more timid than anything. His lips are pillowy, and you have to shove down the urge to take the plump pout of his bottom lip between your teeth. A wanting ache pools into your stomach. It is the second time that you've known the hot pulse of his mouth and basked in the taste of him.

All too soon, he pulls away, but nevertheless, you're breathless, still trying to comprehend it all. There are a lot of conflicting emotions racing through you, and you're not sure of which ones to trust. A part of you knows this isn't right. He's both a coworker and a friend — not to mention nearly ten years your senior.

But he's smiling at you with those beguiling green eyes, and you're learning that very little matters when he looks at you like that.

The towel you wrap around yourself serves little purpose because as soon as you step out of the tub, Jake is crowding you out of the bathroom and into the bedroom.

He pays little heed to your insistence that he'll slip on the wet floor in his socks, instead choosing to kiss along your bare shoulder, mindless to where you're going. The two of you hit the wall before you make it anywhere else so he traps your body with his and connects your lips again.

He licks into your mouth, tasting you with an assured vigor. Using the leverage of your position against the wall, the next kiss is harder, trapping you between his body and the plaster. You have to remind yourself to keep hold of the towel around you. You free hand curls around his head to grasp onto what is left of his cropped hair. It is soft and downy between your fingers.

His teeth catch hold of your bottom lip, and he sucks on it gently, causing you to exhale shakily, dizzy with his taste. When he releases it, there is hardly enough time for you to breathe before his mouth captures yours again.

The lack of space between you creates an air that is suffocatingly hot and needy. Your lips feel swollen and slick with spit. He nips at the tender skin, and this time you whimper.

Jake pulls away when you lean forward to chase his lips again. His hands go to his shirt, pulling it over his head with one forceful tug. The flesh of his torso slides over muscle with the effort. His pants go next.

It is the first time that you see him naked. The first time you see him in anything other than a clean cut, military issued uniform, an image so conventionalized in your mind that it had become impossible to imagine him any other way. It is a type of unearthing for you, because you realize he's not unlike what you expected him to be.

Like his cheeks, his broad shoulders are tan and golden, even darker in comparison to his sun brazen complexion. The handles of his hips fade into large quads, tense with muscle. He's full, as one would think a man should be, his muscles swollen to the point that it looks skin splitting. It is foreign to you, his sturdiness, barren of boyhood.

Your towel goes next, and it falls to the ground at your feet, abandoned on the bedroom floor. Then he's kissing you again, your mouths raw and wet from tasting each other. The only breath you can suck in is his own.

As if he can sense your building headiness, Jake eases up a bit, connecting a few relatively tame pecks to your lips. Doing so, he grins against your mouth. Your eyes are closed but you can imagine the confident, all too relaxed look on his face as he says it.

"Just let go."

You have never been good at opening up, something past boyfriends have begged you — tears dripping down faces in college dorms — to do. You grew up alone, in a normal sized house with regular parents who fought enough to talk about divorce but never enough to do it. And so when you get scared, the nervous tendencies and self preservation that you learned as a child take over. Like a dog who learned not to trust a man's raised hand. Always ready to bite. Always on guard with your chest heaving wide and teeth bared.

He hovers, as if knowing not to push you. You are the same in that way, in your astuteness for each other. It was as if you knew each other without trying. His fingers smooth along the ridges of your spine. Pressed against his body, you linger indulgently at the hollow of his throat. His skin smells salty and raw, unsullied by the usual cleanly redolence of woody soap and washing detergent.

The thought occurs your to again.

I could want this.

It feels good if nothing else.

You unclench your jaw and become nothing beneath him.

Jake pushes you back until you're laying flat against the bed, and you have almost completely reversed positions. He follows, taunt muscles moving fluidly under bronze skin as he crawls over you. Wanting him closer, your legs hook around his waist, pressing his hips into your own. You can feel him harden at the contact.

There's no teasing, no rough foreplay, no biting remarks. He explores your body at his own pace, his large calloused hands pawing at the swell of your breasts before sliding down to squeeze firmly at the muscle of your ass.

The drag of his thigh against your clit is enough to draw a gasp from you, and he grins against your skin. Jake kisses along your chest, tongue teasing up the valley of your breasts while you grind your hips up into him.

A desperate whine slips out of your throat when he lifts his head. He moves up on the bed and plants a chaste kiss to your lips to quiet you. Then he pulls away again, face hovering over yours. His green eyes are bright, returning a sort of youthful gleam to his face.

"What?" he inquires, asking in the manner of someone who already knew the answer before they spoke.

"Want to feel you."

He hums, hand slipping under your hips to press them up into his own. The hard—hot—outline of his cock twitches against your bare skin. "You can feel me plenty."

He waits for the answer that he wants.

"Want to feel you inside me."

Grinning, he mocks an 'ahh' of understanding before leaning back to dig in his dresser, supposedly for a condom. For a glimmer of a moment, you lay back and marvel at the sheer size of him—the thick build of his shoulders, the hulking mass of his thighs, the size of his hard cock.

Catching onto your staring, Jake pulls a smirk that says he's pleased with having caught you doing so. Humility has never been a characteristic that you would have attached to Jake, and perhaps it was his resulting confidence that made his lack of the virtue so forgivable.

You wave him off when he comes up from the dresser empty handed. You'd take a plan B in the morning if you had too. He raises a brow, mouth quirking at your disregard but doesn't comment on it.

Jake crawls back over you and teases the tip of his flushed cock at your entrance just to hear you whine before sliding in. His size is by no means deceiving. The stretch of him stings. Jake quiets your grunt of discomfort by pressing his mouth to yours, tongue entangling with your own.

Your fingers dig into the hard muscle of his back, nails leaving half moons in his skin. His breath fans over your face, nose brushing yours as he hovers, waiting.

"Relax," he murmurs, one of his large palms rubbing up the tense muscle of your side. He can feel the tension beneath your skin, quivering with anticipation.

"Move, Jake," you pant from between your clenched teeth.

"Relax," he repeats, sterner. The tone of his voice tells you that he's not going to move until you do.

Huffing, you will your spine to loosen, try to let go of the tension in your hips. It's hard to concentrate when all you can feel is the splitting stretch of his pulsing cock inside of you, but you manage to relax enough that the clench of your knees isn't so tight around his hips.

"Atta girl."

Gently, as not to move too suddenly, Jake rocks his body into yours, hips rolling against your own. You close your eyes and breathe him in. Like a match being struck, the movement ignites a spark in your abdomen. The tone of your whines change from discomfort to pleasure as he continues to rock his hips.

"Fuck," he groans. "You're tight. But takin' me so well."

Face tucked into his neck, mouth pressed to his ear, all that comes out is a moan in response.

Jake's hand glides down your side, blunt fingers bumping over the ridges of your ribs and across your hip. His palm smooths over the curve of your ass, hand cupping the underside of your thigh and hiking it up without warning. The change in angle allows him to sink deeper into your, hitting a spongey spot that has you mewling.

Your fingers dig into the flesh of his shoulder, nails digging crescents that are sure to draw blood. The breath that escaped him is sharp. He grits his teeth, mouth pressed to your throat as he sponges kisses to your skin.

Something tells you he likes it, the pain. Not necessarily in a masochistic way, his psych exams would never let him get away with that. But you suspect it's more of a reminder that he's human. You know for you it is.

You know that your time is not unlimited and despite that fact that you're good at what you do, your role as a fighter pilot has an expiration date. The average time spent in the field is ten years, and even then most didn't stay in that long. These days, every mission you come back from is a miracle. Eventually you run out of those.

Jake's palm that isn't supporting your thigh slides back up your ribs until his fingers find yours link them, and bring them above your head. The position stretches the expanse of your body out across the bed, exposing you entirely to him. Jake abandons the crease of your neck to suck a bruise to the underside of your breast, a spot he knows will be hidden by your bra should anyone care to look. The laving of his tongue along your nipple sends a shiver down your spine.

Between the rocking of his cock inside you and the attention he's paying to your breasts, you reach your breaking point. You squirm beneath him, walls clenching around his cock as you come. The orgasm travels all the way down to your toes and has you curling them into the mattress.

Jake isn't far behind you. He comes without warning, without asking in or out. You feel it when he releases inside of you, hot and overwhelming. You close your eyes, your head falling back against the mattress as he pulls out. Your used cunt clenches around nothing, already missing his absence. With your heart beating fast inside of your chest, you're grateful that the fan had already been turned on in your bedroom. It helps to cool your flushed cheeks.

Somewhere to your side, you feel the mattress dip and Jake rolls off to lay beside you. He says something but the words are nothing but noise in the back of your fuzzy head. You know you need to clean yourself up, get up and brush your teeth, but you're suddenly more tired than you've ever been in your entire life. Five minutes just to close your eyes won't hurt.

——

You wake up with a start hours later. At first you're confused. The bedroom is oddly bright and your alarm hasn't yet gone off. The sight of Jake tangled in your sheets, snoring occasionally beside you brings it all back.

The soft glow of the lamp on the bedside table swallows his body in a golden brown hue. He's faced towards you on his side, one arm tucked under his head, the other cupping the underside of your thigh, which is slung over his hip. Wide awake beside him, you use the opportunity to observe his face freely.

A faint smattering of freckles that look more like sun damage than anything hide behind his tanned complexion. They creep down the bridge of his nose and across his strong cheekbones, hardly noticeable unless you were to really look.

His fair hair and blonde lashes make you think that he was probably even blonder in his younger years. His lips match the flush of his cheeks, a dusty rose color with a plumpness that most girls usually spend good money trying to achieve.

But as the glorious post-sex haze fades away, so does your blissful negligence. You have a training meeting in an hour, and yet here you are, sleeping in the bed with a man that you barely even know.

You should go, get up before he does so that you're not leaving for the meeting at the same time.

Shifting across the mattress proves to be a relatively easy task. Jake barley moves an inch as you slip from his grasp, the mattress creaking just slightly beneath you. It's when your feet hit the cold floor that the latest problem presents itself.

Lukewarm liquid escapes down your thighs, creating a trail of creamy liquid down your bare legs. A recap of the night's events plays through your head. You didn't use a condom.

"Fuck me," you curse quietly, rushing toward the bathroom as best you can with semen dripping down you legs. You awkwardly step into the shower and rise yourself off, already making plans to buy a Plan B as soon as you can. Nothing will be open this early so you'll have to go after the meeting.

You creep back into the bedroom in search of your uniform. To your dismay, Jake turns over as you tiptoe across the room. After a moment, he sits up slightly, watching as you yank on your clothes from last night. They're rumpled from spending the night on the floor, but you've shown up for work in much worse condition. Jake hasn't said a word.

When you reach for the door, he's still watching you. For a second you panic, wondering if you're supposed to kiss him goodbye or at least say something as you leave.

If he's expecting you to and you don't, you set a clear boundary to whatever is going on between you. If he's not and you do, it could be the last time you see him inside your bedroom.

Before you can think twice, you mutter a goodbye and dart out the door.

[emphistic]

Interlude

A/N: did i write this in half an hour? yes. am i crazy? of course.

"Ah ah ah. I never said you could leave yet."

You immediately stopped in your tracks upon hearing a familiar deep, raspy voice at your back, coming from the confines of your shared bed.

"Where the hell do you think you're going?"

You whipped your head around, and were met with a set of half-lidded eyes in a shade of deep red. Their owner was propped up on one elbow atop the messy sheets, yawning loudly before running his long fingers through his unruly locks.

Sukuna was never a morning person, and his shifts always started later in the afternoon, so he always used it to his advantage.

Blinking once, twice, thrice, as you nervously averted your gaze away from your very enticing boyfriend, who only continued to stare at you sleepily.

The thought of going back to lay in your comfortable, warm bed was already something you wanted to do terribly, but adding Sukuna into the mix, too? This was like trying to drain the sea.

Merely one look at the pink-haired man, who was only covered waist-down by the blankets on his legs, was enough to pull you back beneath the covers and curl into his side.

However, you had already called sick two times in only a fortnight, and those bills were not going to pay themselves.

Unfortunately for you, or not unfortunately, you and Sukuna had been over this many times. Sukuna always told you, "I don't understand why you keep going back to that shitty job anyway. Just let me take care of you back in my place, I provide substantially for the both of us, anyway."

And besides, there really wasn't a way out for you no matter what.

Sukuna had had so many clients back-to-back lately, that he was forced to stay at the tattoo shop for nights on end. On top of that, Choso was unavailable for God knows why, so Sukuna had to fill in for him as well. And if that wasn't enough, sessions would take longer than expected because clients just wouldn't stop flirting with him, moving or twitching, accidentally messing up his work, talking so obnoxiously to the point Sukuna couldn't even pay attention, etc.

Only recently — just the night before, he was finally granted the chance to come home to you.

And you best believe he was going to spend every hour, minute, and second reminding you that you were his, and his only.

Not even your job's employee, apparently. Sorry not sorry.

But, it's not like you wanted to leave him anyway. You had missed Sukuna as much as he had missed you, if not more.

Phone calls while he was on break, sending memes through your text messages, playing together on Game Pigeon, FaceTimes while eating lunch together, were your only escapes from the sad, miserable Adult Life, into just Sukuna and You World.

"Baby, you know I have to. But I'll be back before you know it, okay? And besides, you need the free time. They've been working you nonstop—"

"I'm fine, not even tired. Don't you dare worry your pretty little head about me. As for free time . . ," Sukuna's held a mischievous glint to them, "how about you spend my free time with me?"

You bit your lip, in contemplation. Although you knew, clear as day, what would happen in the end despite everything.

Deciding to make a run for it, you swung your legs over the bed and planted your bare feet on the freezing-cold floor of your apartment. But before you could even stand up, a thick arm swiftly made its way around your waist and pulled you back to meet a hard, bare chest.

Sukuna was now sitting up.

You lightly gasped, as he brought his lips to your ear, his warm breath tickling your skin.

"Don't think you can run away from me just yet, doll. I haven't seen you in days, and I'm not going to be apart from you for another second."

You squirmed in his grasp, but when you realized his strong hold around your middle wasn't going to let up any time soon, you sighed, and, left with no choice, only slumped back against his chest.

Sukuna grinned, victorious, once again.

The rays of the early sun filtered through the cheap window blinds, and you fluttered your eyelashes, squinting to hide away from the inevitable.

"Yeahh," Sukuna laughed, "that's right, princess. Just listen to me from now on."

You frowned, turning your head around to narrow your eyes at Sukuna.

"Now, what can we do with all this free time? I'm thinking we should try something new." Sukuna raised a brow teasingly, twisting your body around and settling you onto his lap with your thighs on either side of his.

"Don't get too ahead of yourself, mister. I'm only staying for five more minutes," you crossed your arms.

Sukuna placed both of his large hands on your hips; it seemed like that was their default resting spot. Every chance he got, they would always end up there. No matter the setting or occasion.

Sukuna let out a deep laugh, "We'll see about that."

-

"Five minutes? You said? Either way, I don't think you're even able to move your legs at this point and walk out of this room."

"S'kuna, you're—ngh—not funny!" Your nipples hardened, and rubbed raw against the material of your shirt.

You braced yourself by placing both hands on the headboard, but it didn't look like anything could help stable you now.

Sukuna licked a stripe up your dampening clit.

Your situation wasn't looking too good. It didn't help that your asshole of a boss just had to call you right then and there.

[neptuneiris]

could you pretend to be in love? (05/10)

The Challenge

pairing: modern!aemond × fem!reader (fake dating)

summary: new sensations envelop you when you are with Aemond, especially when you learn more details about his relationship with Alys and an unexpected news fills you with nerves.

word count: 6.6k

previous part • series masterlist

new chapter finally!

probably won't be as exciting as the other chapters, however...there is something here going on and I want you guys to figure it out in the comments and we'll see if you are catching what I am👀

the next chapter will be full of drama, believe me, so expect it to come very soon as I'm focusing on finishing writing this story without making new ones and considering I have no more fics pending, just this one🤗

now yes beautiful people, enjoy!

warnings: cursing, language, mentions of cheating.

@melsunshine @at-a-rax-ia @jxdegodfrey @ttkttt @yentroucnagol @kate-to-the-ki @iamavailablesstuff @bluerskiees @urmomsgirlfriend1 @toodlesxcuddles @rosie-posie08 @iloveallmyboys @bellaisasleep @deliaseastar @cupcakesminicakescupcakes @dixie-elocin @lilostif16 @wickedfrsgrl @a-beaverhausen @a-beaverhausen

The sound of birds in the distance reaches your ears.

Today the sky is cloudy, with no chance of rain, the temperature is pleasant and you are thankful that there are no intense sun rays burning your skin when you are outdoors.

You find yourself immersed in your physics homework, sitting on the bleachers of the sports field, where you can only hear the sound of the birds and also faintly the sound of the soccer team training.

You sit in tranquility, undisturbed and unobserved by anyone, when suddenly the sound of footsteps stepping on the metal bleachers pulls you out of your concentration.

You look up and see Aemond approaching, a small smile on his face. You return his greeting with a shy smile and make a small space beside you for him to take a seat.

Aemond plops down nonchalantly next to you, letting out a sigh, then curiously observes what you're doing on your lap.

"What are you doing?"

You deliberately ignore his question and instead, take a loose leaf you had tucked away among your folder, pick it up and hold it out to him, with a gentle yet expectant look.

Aemond takes it and frowns, reading what you've written on it, only getting more confused.

'Pride and Prejudice' by Jane Austen.

'Romeo and Juliet' by William Shakespeare.

"And what is this?"

"Have you already forgotten my conditions of the contract?" you tell him amused, "For every party I go with you to, you have to read one of my favorite books or watch one of my favorite movies or shows," you remind him, "So now, you have to pick one of these two of my favorite books."

Aemond rolls his eye with amusement.

"And why exactly do I have to pick one of these two? Don't they seem... repetitive and so usual?"

"That's what people always say, obviously they know these books by the title and their authors, but how many people actually read these books?" you look at him with your tone full of expectation, "I'm sure you haven't read either of them."

He shrugs indifferently, with his nonchalant air.

"So? There are movies," he says confused, "I haven't seen them either, but I know how they both end. In the end they both get married," he points to the title of 'Pride and Prejudice', "And here they both die together and their families stop being rivals," he points to 'Romeo and Juliet'.

You let out a small chuckle at his witty response, but you are not intimidated.

"Yes but there are a lot of things that in the movies they don't show, so... what will be your choice, Mr. Aemond?"

He lets out a laugh.

"Well, we'll see how this 'Romeo and Juliet' is," he decides.

"Perfect."

And when he least expects it, from your backpack you take the book, handing it to him with your clear satisfaction and he still confused but amused examines the book in his hands.

"Good, then give me the other one at once, because there's a new party on Saturday," he tells you, completely grabbing your attention.

You open your eyes wide and stare at him in disbelief and surprise.

"What? So soon?" you ask with clear irritation and disappointment in your look and tone.

"Why are you so disappointed? After all you come out on top too since I'm going to read two of your shitty boring books," he says as he raises them slightly in the air.

"My books aren't shitty and they aren't boring!" you exclaim indignantly giving him a gentle tap on the shoulder, "And it's okay, I just didn't think it would be so soon."

"We'll just go for a little while. Then we can both go get some dinner and I'll drop you off at your house early. Sound good?"

"Yeah, it's fine."

And as soon as you say that, you also hand him the second book with a good forced look, making Aemond laugh and take that book too.

"As much as I like seeing you with a wrinkled nose, take it off or it's going to stay that way," he says amused, crinkling it between his fingers briefly, making you laugh and you immediately move his hand away from your face.

Then he says goodbye to you, before getting up and heading off to his next class. And also not before telling you that he'll see you at lunch.

And as you watch him walk away, you tell yourself that these little interactions are part of pretending, since after all, the guys on the soccer team can see them clearly from this distance.

However, that slight fear returns to yourself that things may get more complicated than you expect.

Fortunately, the rest of the week goes smoothly, the teachers seem to be in a good mood and the homework is not heavy.

And you clearly continue to pretend along with Aemond.

Both he and you continue to act as usual, he is attentive and affectionate when you are together in full view of everyone at school. His gestures and looks full of complicity make you feel special, but at the same time remind you that it's all part of a game.

You also keep your word with Helaena, taking time to sit together for lunch at break time and occasionally Alysanne joins in as well, where you gradually start telling her about Cregan.

Until the day of the party arrives.

You tell your dad that you're going to a birthday celebration for a class friend, nothing big and everything quiet.

Then you opt for a pair of black pants, low-heeled ankle boots, a strappy blouse in a vibrant shade of cherry and a jacket to complement the outfit. And once you look in the mirror, you feel ready, although the nerves begin to settle in your stomach.

And of course, Aemond arrives promptly at your house.

His relaxed expression and smile greet you before you even get into the car. And driving to the party, the atmosphere is comfortable and calm.

And when you both arrive at the house where the party is, it's not a big, loud party like the previous one. But the atmosphere is full of energy, there is music, people dancing, drinks and cigarettes.

And you together with Aemond follow the same procedure to pretend to be a couple in love.

This time, you both decide to be more present with Aemond's friends. You sit between Trevor and Aemond, who immediately puts an arm around your shoulders, pulling you towards him, starting to make conversation with his friends.

And as always, he makes sure you're always included, just like during lunch in the cafeteria.

And while everyone is talking, the guys and Aemond make you laugh, feeling more and more comfortable with them. And as the night goes on, you realize how natural it feels to be next to Aemond, as if you fit perfectly into his world, at least for tonight.

When he at your side looks at you attentively and with some curiosity.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah," you nod nonchalantly, "Why?"

"Just asking," he shrugs, then lifts his hand and tucks a lock of your hair behind your ear, "Can I get you something to drink?"

You shake your head.

"I don't want to drink beer or anything like that."

"Then a soda? Or water?"

You let out a small laugh.

"Okay, soda's fine."

"Alright. I'll be back soon," he says then leaves a soft kiss on your forehead and gets up to head towards the kitchen.

He leaves for a moment and you are left talking to his friends, who are a lot of fun and in fact, because of them and Aemond, you begin to understand lacrosse as such, since that's all they talk about, besides their nonsense.

And also about some of the girls they like.

And also in that small moment that Aemond leaves, as you briefly observe the party around you, you see Alys with her group of friends in another corner.

You just casually watch them, you don't plan to give them any attention, but just as your eyes watch Alys, she watches you back.

And you are struck by how she says something to her friends with a smirk of superiority without taking her eyes off you and then everyone in her group watches you and laughs too.

You snort as you look away, as if you really care.

Aemond returns with your soda and only a glass of beer for himself, resuming conversation with both you and his friends, having a good time together.

Time passes and you feel the need to go to the bathroom, so you leave your now empty glass on the small table in the center.

"I'm going to go to the bathroom," you announce, catching his attention, starting to stretch a bit to get up.

"Do you want me to come with you?" he asks you thoughtfully, "I mean, wait for you outside."

"No need, don't worry. I'll be back soon," you assure him, standing up.

"Okay," he nods at you with a small smile.

With a nod, you walk away towards the second floor bathroom, where you'll mostly take a moment to recharge your batteries before heading back to the party.

Luckily the bathroom is empty and you do everything you need to do without pressure.

Then you take a deep breath, allow yourself a brief moment of calm before returning to the party, wash your hands and mentally go over how you should behave around Aemond in front of everyone.

As you exit the bathroom, just down the hall, you notice Alys' presence in the area near the stairs.

You think about just ignoring her and walking past her, but when her eyes watch you, as if she is waiting for you, a mischievous smile curves her lips and she turns fully towards you, giving you her full attention.

"What do we have here," she mutters sarcastically, moving towards you while holding a red plastic cup in her hand.

You watch her completely unconcerned and walk past her, as you don't plan on dealing with her right now or ever.

"How does it feel to be Aemond's new pet?" she asks with a mocking laugh, planting herself in front of you, stopping your steps, "Or did you just think you could replace me so easily?"

Your heart begins to pound in your chest, but you stand your ground, reminding yourself that you will not let his words affect you, as his expression is filled with disdain.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," you reply calmly, trying not to give her the pleasure of seeing you affected by her comments.

She glares at you, before a sly smile spreads across her face.

"Oh, I'm sorry," she says with false sympathy, "I really thought you knew."

You frown.

"He's always done this, ever since we started dating," she says, "When we'd break up, he'd date the first girl in front of him as a pathetic attempt to replace me and make me jealous, so you're not the first and won't be the last, sweetie," she tells you with a fake pout, feigning pity for you.

You fix your gaze on Alys, feeling a mixture of anger and frustration coursing through your body. Who does she think she is to talk to you like that?

"I don't need your false sympathy," you reply with determination, your voice resonating louder than you expected, "What Aemond and I have has nothing to do with you."

Alys rolls her eyes in exasperation, as if your words are irrelevant to her.

"Oh, please," she replies dismissively, "Don't lie to yourself. He's always been like that, he's just looking to distract himself and you're just the last in line," she points out to you irrelevantly, "When we broke up, he was crying like a baby for me, begging me to get back together."

Your heart clenches at her words, with a surge of emotions surging through your chest.

For a moment, doubt takes hold of you.

Did Aemond really do that? Was he so affected by their breakup?

You tell yourself that maybe if he hadn't, he would never have asked you to do this. But this was mostly so that Alys would stop making a fool of him at school by cheating on him, not to get his attention and make her jealous... right?

"I'm not surprised you don't know," she continues to tell you dismissively, "But do you really think he loves you? Please," she snorts derisively, "He'll dump you in a few weeks when I give him the slightest hope because he's still crazy about me," she says superiorly, "Look at you and look at me. I know what he's into and that's definitely not you, especially you."

You try to ignore the stinging pain and keep your composure, clenching your jaw.

"I don't care what happened between you," you reply bravely, even if your voice shakes a little, "Ours is different."

She lets out a mocking laugh.

"Oh you poor little thing, you're so naive."

"If that's all, thank you so much for that vital information for my life," you tell her just as mockingly, walking past her, determined to leave her behind.

But just as you pass by her side, Alys moves along with you and purposefully slams your shoulder and arm with brutality, causing the beer in her hand to spill in a dull motion onto your chest and clothes.

The cold, sticky liquid slides down your blouse and pants, leaving you drenched and shocked by the suddenness of the moment.

You feel the liquid soak through your clothes and a shiver runs down your back. And you look down, watching in disbelief as the drink spreads through your clothes.

Then you look back at Alys, who has a mocking, amused look on her face.

"Oh, gosh, how clumsy of me," Alys scoffs, her tone of voice full of fake concern, "I'm really sorry, it was an accident."

You take a deep breath to contain your frustration, but her words spark a small spark of anger inside you. How can she be so brazen?

"An accident?" you repeat, disbelief in your voice as you stare at her with a frown.

Alys just smiles mischievously, enjoying your discomfort and what she just did to you.

"Enjoy the party, honey. But first, maybe you should clean yourself up," she says before turning away, leaving you soaking wet and clearly feeling very proud.

You don't even know what to do, feeling this way leaves you paralyzed for a moment, until you finally make your way back to the bathroom.

At the sink you further wet your clothes with water, which looks worse, but at least you won't stink of beer.

Drops of beer also splashed into your hair, so you wipe that off as well, feeling the humiliation wash over you and you don't even know exactly why.

But you do.

You look down at your ruined booties too, soaked from the front with beer and water.

The skin on your chest and collarbone feels chuckling from the beer, so you wipe it off too, when suddenly, there's a knock on the door.

"One moment!" you exclaim grumpily, still cleaning yourself.

"Y/N?"

You hear Aemond's worried voice outside.

"Fuck," you curse in a whisper.

"Are you okay?"

You bite the inside of your cheek and let out a long breath, already having the idea that you won't be able to hide this from him.

You were only supposed to come to the bathroom and you've already been late, of course he must have sensed something was wrong and come looking for you.

You leave the wet towel in the sink and open the door, where Aemond instantly notices you and opens his eye wide, seeing your clothes and some of your soaked hair.

"What happened?" he asks worriedly, moving quickly towards you, examining you.

You struggle to keep your composure, but can't, a bad mood overcomes you and you make your displeasure clear.

"Alys threw her drink on me," you finally say, stepping aside to let him go into the bathroom with you, reaching back for the damp towel to clean your skin.

Surprise crosses your face before it morphs into an expression of restrained fury and disbelief.

"What?"

You hiss, looking in the mirror at yourself as you wipe your sticky skin.

"Did she say something to you?" he asks, his voice serious but full of concern.

You let out a gesture of disbelief.

"She said things many things," you say seriously, not watching him for a moment, trying to dry your hair with the towel.

Aemond frowns, clearly annoyed.

He walks over to you and takes the towel from your hands, stopping your attempt to dry your hair. His gaze meets yours through the mirror, searching for answers.

"What things did dhe say?"

You sigh, feeling the weight of the situation on your shoulders.

"It doesn't matter, she just said bullshit," you reply evasively, looking away.

Aemond watches your face, urgently wanting you to look him in the eye, but you don't, you avoid his gaze and are obviously annoyed with the situation, which he doesn't blame you for.

He's annoyed too, because he knew he should have been near you to protect you if Alys is in the same place as the two of you.

He sighs in frustration, feeling the weight of responsibility on his shoulders, watching your soaked clothes and how you continue to clean yourself.

"I'm sorry," he murmurs sincerely, his voice full of regret, "You shouldn't have gone through this. She's totally out of her mind."

You remain silent for a moment, fighting the emotions that threaten to overwhelm you. As he looks at you with anguish and regret for not protecting you from Alys' comments and actions.

"It's not your fault," you finally say in a serious voice, still not looking at him, then set the damp towel down on the sink and inhale softly, "Can you take me home?"

Aemond nods, feeling guilty.

"Sure," he murmurs, "But first... you can put on my jacket," he says as he starts to take it off, "I'll be waiting outside."

He takes it off and gently hands it to you, his hand brushing against yours with a gesture of tenderness.

"Thanks," you murmur.

He exits the bathroom, closes the door and you remove your blouse and soaked jacket, leaving your bra down and immediately wrap his jacket around you, zipping it up almost to your throat.

With your clothes in your hands, you walk out of the bathroom and Aemond watches you silently, attentive and concerned, with a sadness and frustration in his eye that he can't hide.

He hates your distance.

A few moments ago the two of you were having a good time and now that Alys has done this... he hates that you are apart from him.

You both return to the party and Aemond doesn't even say goodbye to his friends, thinking he'll text them later, grabbing your shoulder and walking out of the house with you.

Together, you walk to his car in silence, where he doesn't dare to say a single word to you and you don't really want to talk either.

And all the way to your house, that nagging feeling doesn't leave your system.

But is it specifically because Alys spilled her drink on you or is it the interesting information she shared with you about Aemond?

You don't.

But you do.

Aemond tried to talk to you about what happened but you wouldn't let him.

You feel it's something you shouldn't make a big deal about. After all, he and you are not really 'dating'. So before he dropped you off at your house, you just reassured him that everything was fine and nothing more.

Now it's your father who drops you off at school on this day and you head towards your locker, immersed for a moment in thought.

You carelessly take your backpack off your shoulders to open it at the same time you open your locker, but as you do so, a polaroid falls to the floor.

You frown and bend down to pick it up, confused, since it's not yours.

And as you look at it, your heart begins to beat too hard in your chest as you see a picture of Aemond and Alys as if at a school dance or a party, both of them hugging.

But that's not what catches your attention, what does is seeing how there's is a picture of your face overlaid over where Alys' face should be, indicating just that, her replacement, a second place or temporary substitute.

But the thing about you and Aemond is not real.

So... why are you so affected by something you know isn't real?

It's a question that haunts your mind as you struggle to maintain your composure, beginning to tremble and feel your breathing heavy.

You swallow hard and press your lips together, when just then, you hear it...the giggles.

You raise your gaze and in the distance, you see Alys with her friends watching in your direction and laughing, clearly mocking you.

Although your relationship with Aemond is fake, the pain you feel at this moment is real.

And before you can react, Aemond's voice is suddenly heard.

"Hey, I was—

You turn your head towards him instantly and your eyes meet his, but his words hang in the air the moment he sees what you hold in your hands.

His soft expression slowly transforms from confusion to fury as he sees the picture. His whole face hardens completely and he purses his lips.

And sure enough, it's a matter of him realizing what's happening, as he hears Alys and her friends' laughter and looks in their direction, hardening his gaze even more.

"Aemond—

You try to speak but he instantly walks over to where Alys is standing without saying a word to you, taking the picture from your hands.

Your heart beats harder, opening your eyes wide and you want to walk towards him, to stop him, but somehow, you are paralyzed and you don't know exactly why.

Tension begins to feel in the air and you feel like your heart will burst out of your chest at any moment.

Aemond arrives in front of Alys with a determined look, his jaw tense and his fists clenched at his side. Instead of shouting, however, his voice is firm and controlled.

"From now on, I don't ever want to see you keep bothering my girlfriend with your fucking little girl pranks again, do you understand me?" he says angrily to then throw the photo at her.

The photo hits her face lightly and Alys looks up at him, surprised by the sudden intensity of his voice and his movements.

Instead of showing fear, however, her face hardens with an expression of disdain and disbelief.

"Oh, look who thinks he's the hero," she replies with her cynical smile, trying to hide her discomfort behind her façade of superiority, "I didn't know you had to protect your little girlfriend, Aemond. And come on, we were just joking."

Aemond clenches his fists, his jaw tense with frustration. But he continues to maintain his composure, his eye fixed on hers with determination.

"Oh yeah? You were just joking?" he repeats, "And the party thing on Saturday was a fucking joke too?"

Her face tenses slightly at the mention of the party, her smile fading momentarily before her regains his composure.

"That was an accident—

"Yeah, right. Everything to you is an accident, something you didn't meant to do, something that got out of hand. How could I not know about that, right? It's always the same fucking story with you."

She purses her lips.

"Who the fuck do you think you are to talk to me like that—

"Leave me and my girlfriend alone," he tells her slowly and clearly, "I'm not going to tell you again and I don't want to know that you're doing your shitty jokes again," he warns her, making it clear with his tone that he's not willing to tolerate her childish games anymore.

Alys recoils slightly at the annoyance and determination in his voice, her confidence waning slightly.

And before she can say anything else, Aemond turns and walks back along with you.

The students around you are still fully attentive to the confrontation, shocked and delighted by the drama, while you watch Aemond in awe of the way he has defended you.

"Come on," he murmurs to you in a softer, gentler way, closing your locker door and taking your hand, leading you with him away from the watchful eyes.

After what happened, he takes you with him to a nearby empty classroom and once inside, he gently closes the door behind him and turns to look at you, his expression attentive and full of concern.

He doesn't say anything right away and you just bite the inside of your cheek and lower your gaze, not knowing exactly what to say or what to do.

Until he exhales deeply, releasing the tension built up in his shoulders.

"Are you okay?" he asks, his voice soft and comforting as he watches you intently.

You nod slightly, though your hands still tremble slightly.

"I'm fine," you reply, trying to sound unconcerned.

He sighs, tearing his gaze away from yours for a moment.

"I'm so sorry. I-I didn't... I didn't expect something like this to happen. And she..." he runs a hand across his forehead in frustration, "It's not fair for you to be dealing with this."

"You have nothing to apologize for, Aemond," you tell him softly and sincerely, "But thank you for standing up for me."

He sighs.

"And you don't have to thank me, Y/N. It was the least I could do. But I promise you this is the last time something like this happens."

"You can't control what Alys does or doesn't do."

He exhales again.

"I know, but we never agreed that you would go through these bad times in the contract."

"Hey," you take a step towards him, your gaze soft as you see the frustration and worry on his face, starting to get upset, "Aemond," you call his name in a calm manner, "It's okay. I'm fine. Yes, the party thing and today was difficult but..." you shrug, "I'm fine. It's nothing I can't handle."

Still the worry doesn't leave his face.

"Are you sure? At the party you were upset and I don't blame you, but I don't want this to affect between us. You were distant and now...

His words float in the air and you try to place a small, comforting smile in his direction, though it appears more of a grimace.

"We're fine," you assure him softly.

His gaze reflects a mixture of relief, watching you without another word, then briefly glancing around.

And then an idea seems to cross his mind and he watches you again, attentive.

"What do you say we skip this first class?"

"What?" you immediately inquire.

"I know you don't like skipping classes but just one missed class isn't going to hurt you."

You frown.

"And what do you want to do?"

He shrugs.

"Just talk."

You bite your lower lip, hesitant.

But it's only enough to see the look on Aemond's face and his posture, utterly determined and solely waiting for you, that you finally let out a resigned sigh and nod.

Soon the two of you are sitting in the bleachers, with almost no one around, just the cheerleading squad training in the corner of the huge soccer and lacrosse field.

The atmosphere is quiet and you like that, just like the last time you were here and he chose the book of 'Romeo and Juliet' to read.

And once both of you are silent, just looking around and feeling each other's presence, Aemond decides to speak.

"What did Alys say to you at that party?"

He dares in asking, his gaze searching yours with a mixture of curiosity and concern, while you remain silent for a moment, not expecting that he would try to bring up the subject again.

And inevitably Alys' words echo in your mind, leaving a bitter taste in your mouth.

And you don't understand why.

You don't understand why you feel this unpleasant sensation when you remember her words.

"Well, she wasn't very nice..." you're silent for a moment, "Actually she wasn't at all but..." you lick your lips and avert your gaze from him, focusing on the lacrosse field, "She called me... your new pet, a new pathetic attempt to replace her."

He frowns, his gaze hardening as he hears your words, incredulous and annoyed. And he doesn't need to say anything, his face speaks for itself.

"She said you did that all the time when you both broke up... you know," you clear your throat, "Going out with other girls to make her jealous so she'd come back to you. That I was just a distraction and that pretty soon you'd drop me the moment she gave you the slightest hope of getting back together."

His lips tighten into a line, closing his eye for a moment and shaking his head, still intent on your words. And you prepare to say the next thing more softly and tactfully.

"She also said that you cried to her and begged her to come back this last time you both broke up."

He snorts, more incredulous than ever.

"Of course she said that."

And before he can speak further, you feel the need to clarify your behavior a bit.

"I always acted with her as if we were a real couple," you clarify, "I wasn't bothered by what she said," what a fucking lie, "What bothered me was her talking to me that way and throwing her drink on me."

"No, no, it's okay, I understand that," he assures you instantly, in a soft voice, "But everything she said to you is not true."

You watch him with your parted lips, slightly surprised and beginning to feel your heart knot.

"It isn't?"

"No," he says more firmly, incredulous, "It's true that I begged her to get back together, but that was a while ago, practically in the beginning of our relationship when it was fun for her to break up and come back," he explains to you, serious and honest with his words, "I was crazy about her, I even grew to love her and gave her all of me. But I was just a fucking child experiencing his first love... and that wasn't enough for her."

His confession takes your breath away for a moment, revealing a vulnerability you didn't expect, watching his serious and frustrated face clearly from what happened at the party and an hour ago at your locker.

You have no idea what to say, not wanting to minimize his feelings from that time nor now by saying the wrong thing.

"It's also not true that I was dating other girls to make her jealous to get her to come back to me, I-I..." he shakes his head, "I've never been like that. And you're certainly no distraction or... my new pet," he says with distaste.

You let out a long breath.

"I'm sorry," you say softly, "She said it in a way that made me believe her. I don't know what I was thinking," you say sincerely, "And I'm also sorry she made you feel that way," you mumble, feeling a lump in your throat.

"Don't worry, it's okay," he says softly, with a bitter little smile and his gaze lowered.

He shakes his head regretfully, as if he's remembering a past he'd rather forget and you feel guilty.

"It's just..." he starts to say, "Why would I want to go back to her if she cheated on me?" he asks incredulously, "She was the one who cried and begged to get back together this last time. And you know why? Because I found her fucking that guy in her car after she told me she was feeling sick and didn't feel like seeing me or going out with me."

Fuck.

His words echo in your mind, bringing with them a wave of sadness and empathy, definitely not expecting to hear that.

You never knew how it was that Alys cheated on Aemond, it only began to be said that it was with a college guy, but it was never said under what circumstances exactly she cheated on him.

You feel a sharp pang in your chest and suddenly feel outraged at what he had to endure, that she betrayed his trust in that horrible way.

How could she do that to him?

You don't have a heart made of stone to put a person through that.

You feel grateful that he shared this with you. It just shows you the level of trust you both have built. And you take a moment before you speak, trying to find the right words.

And the first thing you do is raise your hand and place it on top of his.

"I'm so sorry," you say softly, sincerely, "I'm so sorry you went through that. You didn't deserve it."

"You don't have to apologize, Y/N," he replies gently, accepting your touch, "None of it was your fault."

Then he sighs and you realize there's a weight to his words, a pain he's carried with him for some time.

"It's just... "he continues speaking, his voice heavy with mixed emotions, "Even if this thing between the two of us was real, why do this? Why tell these lies and want to hurt you with her cruel words and actions? Why won't she let me move on?"

You press your lips together and your heart clenches as you listen to his anguish.

"Maybe she's still in love with you," you mutter, trying to find a reason, "In her own twisted way."

He shakes his head, incredulous.

"This isn't love. It wasn't before and it isn't now. She just wants to have me eating out of the palm of her hand, like always."

His words are blunt and make you feel even more helpless about the situation.

And there's really nothing you can do, you can only be here for him, listen to him, support him in whatever he needs and be... his friend, like you've really been all this time, putting aside your facade of a girlfriend in love.

Right?

He lets out another sigh, this time heavier than the previous ones, and then leans against the metal of the bleachers behind you, leaning back.

You think he will let go of your hand, but he pulls you along with him, both of you close, shoulder to shoulder, both of you suddenly falling silent, saying nothing more, just staring at the horizon.

Until he speaks again.

"I don't want to think about it anymore," he says as he watches you and you look back at him almost instantly, feeling his thumb gently caress the back of your hand, sending a kind of electricity through your body.

And you propose the first thing that comes to mind.

"Do you want to listen to music until the next class starts?" you say in a soft voice and he nods immediately.

You take your headphones from your backpack, your phone and settle back down next to him, handing him an earphone and then you play your Spotify playlist with the songs you keep listening to lately.

You don't even know if he also likes the same style of music as you, but he doesn't complain or say anything to you the moment you start playing The 1997, Harry Styles, The Weeknd, Chase Atlantic, Cigarettes After Sex and Lana del Rey.

Until he closes his eyes and suddenly uses you as a pillow, dropping his head on your shoulder, immediately this catching your attention and feeling a strange sensation in your lower stomach.

Despite being surprised and feeling confused for a moment, you do absolutely nothing to push him away and after a moment of hesitation, you slowly drop your head on top of his as well.

He doesn't open his eye or say anything to you, he just settles in better and then you both get very still, continuing to listen to music.

And you can't help but wonder; are the two of you even pretending now?

You honestly don't know.

"We have a problem."

That's the first thing Aemond says to you on a Tuesday morning when he stops by to drive you to school.

Immediately this catches your attention and you look at him slightly concerned, closing the passenger seat door to the side of you and watch him completely attentively.

"What's wrong?"

"My mom knows about you."

Shit.

Your whole body tenses and you watch him with your eyes wide open in surprise.

"And of course, she wants to meet you."

Oh shit.

"B-but...

You try to speak, not finding the right words watching him confused, not understanding anything and Aemond helps you with that as soon as he sees your completely disbelieving and surprised face.

"Aegon told her," he lets you know, "The fucking cunt talked out of turn and before he knew it, I'd already told her everything."

Oh God.

"And what did she tell you?" you ask, feeling a knot in your stomach.

"She wants you to go to dinner Friday night."

He tells you in a soft voice and looking just as worried as you do, still trying to convey calm.

"I told her I'd talk to you about it, but..." he lets out a resigned sigh, "I know her. And she won't leave me alone until she meets you. She's really nice, I swear, she's the sweetest person and... I know we agreed not to involve families but I had nothing to do with this."

Your mind is spinning as you finish processing the information, feeling an unexpected uneasiness and anxiety.

The mere thought of meeting Aemond's mom already makes you feel nauseous from the same nerves. However, you empathize with him, as this wasn't something he planned and it was by third parties who think he and you are actually dating.

But still, you feel incredibly nervous and the day hasn't even come close.

"I get it," you mumble, trying to hide your nervousness, licking your lips, then looking at him hesitantly, "You want me to?"

Aemond averts his gaze from you, running a hand over his face, not knowing exactly what to say to you, as you wait for his thoughtful response.

Until he lets out a long breath and moves a little closer towards you, placing his hand on top of yours.

"I know this is a lot to ask, especially after we agreed not to do this," he tells you softly, "And my mother is insistent, I do want you to meet her, but... if you don't want to do it, it's totally fine with me," he assures you, "The least I want to do is pressure you into doing something you're not comfortable with."

His words comfort you a little, but you still feel the nervousness wash over you, as well as feel a slight pang of guilt.

You bite your lower lip, struggling with your own emotions and thoughts.

"It's just that I feel remorseful that I'm going to meet her and she's going to meet me when this isn't real," you say in a sad, worried tone.

"I know," he says with compression, holding his hand tighter with yours, "Me too but you won't have to do this again. I'll take care of it, I promise."

You let out a long breath you too, lowering your gaze to the clasped hands in your lap as you feel Aemond's attentive and concerned gaze on you.

"All right," you finally reply, "If it's important to you and your mother, I'll handle it."

"Are you sure? You can tell me no and I'll understand."

"No, don't worry," you assure him, "I will."

He smiles softly at you with gratitude, but also with a hint of concern in his eye.

"Thank you. I really appreciate it."

And despite your own misgivings, you return the small smile.

"It's okay, really. I just... need a little time to think."

Aemond nods, understanding.

"Sure."

general taglist:

[simplydnp]

WAD: Cover Art

dan is still working on selling the distribution rights for We're All Doomed! so i decided to make some DVD/Blu-ray disc jacket art!

this is my attempt at a traditional jacket design! none of the images used are mine, but i did create the concept and design:

as i was making the first one for myself, i was struck by the fact that 'well, it's for me, so it doesn't have to look like a stereotypical jacket cover' which led me to be more artsy in my approach for the next one:

i was really enjoying the creativity and space to explore, so i went looking for more inspiration for a third design. this led me to dan's favourite Muse album: Origin of Symmetry, which i paid homage to:

after the first Muse album, i looked at their catalogue to see if there was more inspiration there. i was just thankful dan's favourite was easy stylistically to mimic, unlike say, 2009's The Resistance...

thank you @danielhowell for the inspiration!

nerdy stuff & reference pics below the cut!

General notes

i don't know how to use photoshop! i entirely brute-forced my way through the whole project, and the only tutorial i looked up was for the gradient text in the 4th cover

this wasn't even the original project i was working on! you'll eventually get to see that though

and this one also inspired art for the disc itself so stay tuned 👀

i will do anything for authenticity so these are Full of intentional details

matching fonts is a nightmare

the traditional cover

took the longest, as it was the first.

the barcode numbers are the date of the first video he uploaded on dinof, and the last tour show date (in m/d/y)

i changed 'iceland' to 'poland' on the front cover, as he never actually went to iceland, and poland wasn't ever on the list even though he did go there

the orange may look a little off-center in the front, but these designs need to include space for a spine between the front and back cover, i promise it's right 😂

the black and white cover

inspired by the 'i want to believe' aliens poster

the cover art comes from his metal band merch shirt design

i had to manually shrink the text, line by line, and ensure it all lined up on the back!

i even made the logos on the back greyscale

the Muse: Origin of Symmetry cover

a shockingly perfect style for a WAD cover. i'm so glad i used the cubes, even if they couldn't be orange.

there's some versions of the art online where the sky is even more orange and it baffles me how i haven't seen any parallels like this before

the Muse: The Resistance cover

this cover was never supposed to see the light of day! i meant it when i said i was grateful i didn't have to try to adapt this complex design... and yet, i tried anyway.

i did all the grid lines by hand, including the jagged/broken edge parts, shading each section, and then drawing every star.

the hardest part was getting the gradient on the back text to cooperate. photoshop's gradient settings are surprisingly limited

gotta shout out @amazingphil for being the reason i knew what this cover looked like--it's the only muse album i knew the art of before embarking on this quest!

obligatory sob story:

i've been extremely and suddenly ill for 6 months. it is difficult to function moment to moment, but especially in doing little things just for me. this is the first and only art project i've been able to feel inspired to not only work on, but to finish, and despite the pain and long hours, i enjoyed every minute of it. thank you, dan, for creating this space for me to explore, and thank you, everyone here, for being wonderful support during this time 💞

[ticklygiggles]

Wild Instinct | Cynonari

A/N: HAPPY BIRTHDAY DEAR FABIFABIIIIII (@lovelynim) I love you soooo much, I hope you like this little giftie gift ❤️ I tried to post it in kinda morning time for you because... yes. I wish you the happiest of days today Fabifabifabifabifabifabifabi! ❤️❤️ MWWWAAAAAHH

Summary: Did you know fennec foxes are playful creatures? Cyno didn't. 

Words: 1k+

He was not one to take work home, he preferred to finish all those matters at the end of his workday and enjoy his free time with Tighnari at home, however, Cyno had been terribly busy these past couple of days and the paperwork had piled up, (thanks to a certain Acting Grand Sage), so he decided to take just a little bit home, just to lighten the next day's load. 

It wasn't going to take too long, he had told Tighnari, who was resting on the couch while Cyno read his papers at the Forest Watcher's desk, surrounded by botany books, notes and some ointments that smelled really good. Cyno had barely sat down in front of the desk, if he had to say, he had been at it for about five minutes when he felt something lean against his shoulder from behind; fur tickled his cheek and he smiled as he felt Tighnari's ear twitching against his skin. 

“Missing me already?” He teased, smiling as he turned a page in the file in front of him. Tighnari did not answer, but his head nudged against Cyno's shoulder again, softly moving from side to side as if he was saying no. “I'll be done in just a few minutes, Nari, you wanna go to bed now- ack!” 

A poke to his bare waist made him jump nearly out of the roof. He reached out and captured Tighnari’s hand in his. “N-Nari, I'm really going to be finished in only a few minutes, could you– n-noho!” 

Another poke to his other side had him giggling softly and Cyno quickly caught that hand as well, turning around to look at Tighnari. “What–!” 

Tighnari had raised his head, their eyes meeting, and Cyno felt something funny swirling in his chest. Now, that was a look he didn't see often. Tighnari was smiling brightly at him, his toothy grin making Cyno flush a little. His beautiful eyes shone as brightly as the first rays of sunlight filtering through the leaves of the tall forest trees, a spark of playful malice in them. His adorable nose was scrunched up on one side, as if he were daring Cyno to do something. Cyno blinked a few times, slowly letting go of Tighnari's hands. 

“What... do you need, Nari? I- ahahaha!” Tighnari’s hands latched to his waist and squeezed it, making Cyno giggle and rise from his seat like a spring. “Nahari, what-” 

Turning to face Tighnari, the Forest Watcher quickly walked away, barely able to contain a chuckle as he continued to show his teeth in a wide smile and wrinkle his nose. Cyno didn't understand what was happening– he had never actually seen Tighnari behave that way, and for a moment he worried, thinking that maybe some plant spore had done something to him. He opened his mouth to speak again, but the only sound that left his lips was a squeal as Tighnari poked his exposed belly. 

Cyno caught Tighnari's hand again, and to Cyno's surprise, Tighnari laughed, using his free hand to try to get away while letting out panicked giggles and Cyno understood, or at least he thought he did. 

“Oh? You want to play, Tighnari?” Tighnari's expression seemed to brighten even more and Cyno smiled, although he didn't really understand what was happening, however, who was he to deny something to Tighnari? 

Cyno smirked and pulled Tighnari against him, his arm wrapping around Tighnari's waist as the other cupped his side. Tighnari jolted and he let out a laugh. 

“I haven't done anything yet? Why are you giggling so much alreHEhe! Hohold ohon!” 

Cyno had to let go of him when his hips got tickled. Tighnari giggled and he quickly backed away, looking back as he slowly walked away. Oh, he wanted Cyno to chase him? How adorable. The Mahamatra chuckled and he faked Tighnari, making him think he was going to start running after him, Tighnari screamed and ran a few steps before realizing that Cyno was not chasing him yet, but then Cyno did it when Tighnari was distracted and in two strides, he almost caught him, but Tighnari was very agile and laughing like a child, he snuck away from Cyno. 

Cyno chased him throughout the house and almost got dizzy as he circled the couch a thousand times. Tighnari was impossible to catch, moving so quickly from one side to the other that Cyno had tripped over his own feet many times already, but he was the Mahamatra and a very skilful one; he managed to corner Tighnari near the bed with his chasing skills, (and maybe a little luck), and finally trapped him in his arms, both falling to the bed with a soft 'thud'. 

“Gotcha, Nari,” he said and wasted no time. His hands glued to Tighnari's sides and started to squeeze them up and down. 

Tighnari threw his head back with bright, happy giggles. His hands pawed weakly at Cyno's hands as he barely squirmed under Cyno's weight. 

“Cynohoho!” 

“Oh, so you can talk, Nari. I thought a little mouse had eaten your tongue,” Cyno said playfully, straddling Tighnari's hips as his fingers climbed up towards his ribs. The fennec’s laughter turned louder and more panicky, but his hands simply wrapped around Cyno's wrists as his ribs were played like a new instrument. Cyno smirked. “Let's play the Nari~” 

His fingers ran over each rib and into the spaces between them and Cyno had to laugh as he noticed that Tighnari's laugh changed depending on where his fingers toyed, just like an instrument. The melody of his laughter became more intense and vibrant as Cyno played with his highest ribs, near the hollows of his armpits. If he went to the lowest ones, his almost hysterical laughter turned into frantic giggles that made him snort adorably. 

“I'm composing a masterpiece," Cyno said, smiling widely. "Who knows, maybe Nilou will want to do a dance to this new melody of mine. What do you say, Nari?”

Tighnari couldn't do anything but laugh, his cheeks were red and Cyno thought they were even a little sore. His long black eyelashes were dampened with tears caused by laughter and glistened in the dim light of the room. Cyno rarely saw Tighnari laughing like that, not even his best jokes could make him laugh that hard, plus he usually didn't tickle him because Tighnari was brutal when he took revenge on him. 

But Tighnari seemed to be having too much fun and something warm spread across Cyno's chest. Since when did Tighnari behave like this? Was it common for the Valuka Shuna race to be like this? He wondered, and would ask Tighnari about it some other time, right now he was busy making his lover happy– but perhaps he was a bit too out of breath right now. 

His hands slowed down until he was simply tracing each bone, so Tighnari could catch his breath. The Forest Watcher giggled sweetly, his hands wrapping around Cyno's wrists moved out of the way, (It wasn't like they were really trying to keep Cyno's hands away, anyway), and he willingly put his arms up by each side of his head. 

To Cyno's surprise, Tighnari began to make a very peculiar sound. A sound he has never heard before, it was something like…

“Are you purring, Nari?” 

Cyno could definitely describe that sound as a purr, just a bit more squeaky

“Hmm~” Tighnari nodded, giggling as Cyno lightly tickled his ribs. “Chase me again.”

Cyno raised his brows. “Again? I have to finish my paperwork, Nari, and- 

“Just once, yes?” Tighnari begged with a saw expression. “Didn't you have fun?” 

Of course Cyno had fun. Tighnari wasn't like this all the time, he really thought this was some kind of wild instinct kicking in, and he definitely loved it, but he really needed to finish his work or else tomorrow… 

“Just once, yes? Then I'll help you with your w-wohohork- I sahahaid chahasing!” 

Cyno giggled, “of course, first try to escape and I'll chase you, how does that sound?”

It seemed like he'll have to worry about that paperwork tomorrow, right now he was very busy playing with his cute Tighnari– stupid Acting Grand Sage could survive without those documents on time.

[jeonginsleftcheek]

Easy morning

pairing: lee felix x afab!reader

genre: fluffy smut

word count: 1.7k

a/n: established relationship, just a drabble i whipped up at work bcs why not, kinda sub!felix

warning/s: kinda somnophilia at the beginning, one ruined orgasm, not proofread

~check out my masterlist♡

The very first rays of sunshine peak through your curtains, signaling to you that the good night's sleep has finished. You probably had some wonderful dreams, judging by the happiness you feel before you even open your eyes.

Your reality though, isn't any worse than the dreamland you're just slowly drifting away from.

Not when your head is propped on your boyfriend's shoulder, your leg thrown over his thighs, his arm wrapped around you. Everything smells like him, the pillow, the sheets, your hair, your skin. You haven't opened your eyes yet, but you're smiling to yourself, basking in the warmth enveloping all your senses.

Your hand is on his bicep and you slowly trail it down, feeling the dips and veins, the little goosebumps rising on his skin, the soft hair on his forearm. He's snoring lightly, his chest rising and falling slowly, moving your head that's now resting on his chest in sync. His heartbeat is slow and it almost lulls you back to sleep as you slide your hand over his, fingertips mapping out the dips and valleys of his palm. Your fingers slot into his perfectly like they were made to hold your hand.

You take a nice deep breath in, the smell of him coming over your senses even more and in that warmness and safety, something familiar swirls in your gut. Your hand then slowly slides to his stomach, where his shirt rode up and you feel his abs, your fingers drawing patterns into his precious skin.

He doesn't even stir and you keep gently moving your fingers over his stomach, slowly running them up his side, your fingertips reaching his nipple. You bury your face in his neck, inhaling his sweet scent, pressing your lips gently on his smooth skin while you start slowly moving your finger on his nipple.

Felix exhales, a quiet moan escaping his lips as he stirs a little, the hand that was resting on your back gently squeezing your side. You smile, lazily kissing his neck and pinching his nipple before your hand starts slowly trailing down, over his toned stomach to his navel.

Your boyfriend's hips lift up slightly towards your hand and you smirk to yourself with just how he's always willing to give into you. You nip at his skin, hand over his growing erection, squeezing him just a little to tease him.

"Baby..."- he whispers groggily, still not completely awake, his hand finding purchase on your back as he slides it under your shirt and touches your soft skin.

"Shh... I'll take care of you, lover."- you whisper into his neck, palming him a little harder now. Low moans and grunts spill from his lips, music to your ears and your core as you feel yourself throb for him. But this is not about you, not right now at least. You want to make him feel good so you decide to stop teasing, especially since he's getting more desperate, pushing up into your hand and gripping your shirt.

You slide his boxers down just enough so you can comfortably take his length out and Felix hisses when the cold air hits his cock. You look down at him, so pretty in your hand, fully hard and already leaking from the pink tip, ready for you to use however you wish to.

You run your palm over his tip, then wrap your fingers around him and start gently spreading the precum down his length. Felix whimpers, pushing up into your hand again as you thumb his tip.

"Be patient."- you warn him in a whisper and he just moans in response, his hips coming to a halt as he lets you have complete control over the movement.

You start with slow and deep strokes, taking your time to feel him out, fingertips running over that one prominent vein that's even more accentuated now when he's aroused. The warmth radiating off of him, the heaviness in your hand and the sounds he's making drive you crazy and you want him everywhere, in your mouth, your pussy, your ass. You sink your teeth into his neck, your hand moving and twisting at the top.

"Y/n..."- Felix chants your name repeatedly, his hand slides to your butt as he grabs a handful of it, and you moan into his skin. You speed up your movements on his cock, pressing yourself against his thigh and you can't help grinding against him in time with your hand.

Felix is gripping both the bed and your ass, he feels like he's losing his mind when you use him like that. He wants to stay still and let you do your thing but the way you're touching him proves to be too much for him to handle and he lifts his hips up, meeting your hand.

You chuckle slightly, pressing yourself against him, his skin between your teeth again as you decide to punish him for not staying still. You speed up again, your hand working hard around him and Felix shivers, moaning louder now, his fingers sliding between your asscheeks down to your warmth, dipping into the wetness through your panties.

He's close, you know it and he's trying to distract you with his fingers running up and down your folds, teasing your clit.

You feel his hips stutter and you grip the base of his cock, effectively ruining the orgasm you've built up inside him.

"Oh god!"- Felix whimpers, legs trembling. "Why'd you do that?"- he sounds pained and you peer up at his face. He looks completely ruined, hair all over the place, a sheen of sweat on his forehead, cheeks red, pupils blown with lust, his lips bitten.

"I told you to be patient."- you say, smirking at him. You want to just devour him right then and there but you enjoy playing with him a little too much to just end it so fast.

"I'm sorry, it just feels too good."- he whines, shutting his eyes tightly, head falling to the side.

"You want more?"- you smirk, playing with his cock in your hand, teasing his tip with your fingers.

"Yes."- he whispers.

"Say the magic word, baby."- you squeeze him a little, making him twitch and moan as he looks back at you.

"Please. Please, touch me more."- he whimpers, lips trembling, eyes shining and you have to give him what he wants when he begs so sweetly.

So you start moving your hand fast again and Felix trashes on the bed a little, more sensitive after the ruined orgasm. You lift up a little and leave a trail of kisses on his neck and collarbone, your tongue darting out to lick at his skin, teeth nipping at his flesh.

"Mm fuck."- he moans, this time actually staying still and letting you do your thing. His fingertips rub between your folds, over your now even more soaked panties. You bite into his skin a little harder, hand running up and down his cock faster as you lose yourself in pleasing him.

You can feel that he's close again as his cock twitches and his legs tremble from holding back. You don't want to tease him again, you want to see him fall apart for you, especially now that you've got him feeling desperate for release.

So, you speed up again, ignoring the pain developing in your arm, just to bring your sweet boyfriend to his sweet release.

"Ah, fuck y/n please!"- he whines, shaking now.

"You want to come baby?"- you ask, lips leaving his skin for a moment so you can look at his pretty face.

"Yes please, let me come!"- he whimpers, looking at you and trying to make the best puppy eyes he can in this moment.

You use your other hand to lift his shirt up more, aiming his cock towards his abs as much as you can.

"Come for me, lover."- you smirk, his hips are twitching up into your hand and he can't control himself anymore as he whines your name, followed by a string of curses and other incoherent words.

Your boyfriend's lips fall open in a silent moan as his eyes roll back, a vein protruding on his sweaty forehead from exertion. His cock twitches, hot spurts of cum painting your hand and his stomach deliciously as you keep milking him dry, until you're sure you squeezed the last drop from him.

"Ah- sensitive!"- he whimpers as you keep playing with his tip.

"Sorry."- you chuckle, pecking his lips as you finally release him from your hand.

"You really got nothing to apologize for after waking me up with a handjob."- he laughs, his chest rumbling as you lean against his shoulder again.

You chuckle and sit up, grabbing some tissues from the night stand so you can clean him up. He looks up at you sweetly, cheeks still rosy.

"I kinda massacred your neck and collarbone."- you remark.

"Eh, it's okay. I like that."- he smirks up at you, his hand sliding on your arm, all the way to your cheek as he holds it and pulls you into a sweet kiss.

You get up to throw away the tissues and his eyes follow you.

"Come back here so I can return the favor."- he sits up, beckoning you with his finger.

You giggle, practically diving into the bed and into his arms where you feel the warmest, your lips meeting in passionate kisses, hands touching and loving.

Pretty soon, his face is between your legs, worshipping you with his tongue, tasting your sweet juices, taking everything you give him.

Your hand tangles in his hair, holding him down as he eats you out like a man starved, his deep moans sending vibrations through your core all the way to your heart.

His hands grip your thighs, and yours grip the sheets under you as he brings you to your high, your juices landing on his tongue and lips, dripping down his chin. He licks his lips, his chin, dives back in to clean you up not wanting to let the sweetness of you to be wasted.

He slides back up to you and you both wear big stupid-in-love smiles on your faces as you lean in. You taste yourself on his lips, a reminder of the pleasure he just brought you.

"I love you."- he whispers when you part, hand caressing your head.

"I love you too."- you whisper back, cupping his face, fingers gently touching his freckles.

"You want some breakfast?"- you ask after pecking his lips again.

"Already ate."- he smirks and you slap his arm as you both laugh.

"Pancakes would be good though."- he pouts cutely at you.

"I'll see what I can do."- you smirk.

[redheadspark]

can I get Druig with "how can you be this cheery already? we haven't even had breakfast." and "you won't stop this until i say 'yes', will you?" 🥺

A/N - YAS FOR THIS! I would love to write this, thanks for the request, dear friend!

Ray

Summary - Who knew the mind-controlling Eternal was a ball of sunshine in the morning

Warnings - just some fluff :)

Humming was the first thing you heard when you were slowly waking up, much to your dismay.

Grumbling, you threw the thin sheet over your head to try and block out some of the sun that was about to pour into your little shack.  The softer sounds of the trees high above rustling in the morning wind was the next thing you heard, a shiver going through your body as the humming was continuing.  You huffed, knowing now that there was no way you were going to be sleeping again as the bed was now shifting.  A pair of gentle yet calloused hands touched the top of your head and massaging your scalp as you wiggled under the sheet.

“Mornin’, my love,”

His deep tremor of a voice was enough to have you open your eyes, seeing through the thing sheet a silhouette of a body.

“How are you already awake this early?” You said in a mumble under the sheets as the fingers in your hair never stopped moving slowly, “It’s the weekend.  We don’t have chores today.”

“Still a good day to wake early and enjoy,” he replied as you huffed, pushing the sheets down and scowling up at your husband of 400 years.  Druig, perched over you on the bed with his tossed hair shining in the sun and his piercing blue eyes looking like sapphires orbs looking down at you.  He was sporting a thin shirt and running pants, a thin sheet of sweat already evident on his face as he grinned widely at you.

“You went running?” You asked as a yawn as he nodded.

“Earlier this morning, since I know you’d rather sleep all day than enjoy the first rays of the morning,” He teased, you rolling your eyes.

“How can you be this cheery already?  We haven’t even had breakfast yet,” You stated as he shrugged.

“It’s a nice day, and I find it a blessin’.” He replied, then leaning down a bit to graze his nose with yours with affection.  You could breathe in the soil that was under his nails from working out in your little vegetable garden the night before, the sweat he got from his rain, and something that was simply Druig, “The blessin’ of our village, the blessin’ of breathing in the fresh air of the jungle, and the greatest blessin’ of bein’ married to ya,”

500 years together in the Amazon was nothing short of heavenly for you and Druig.  Getting there was such a harsh and difficult decision, simply because you two left your Eternals family behind.  Druig went through so much turmoil and pain that night, knowing he was not able to help stop the genocide that was unfolding in front of all of you.  As his wife, you stood by him and never swayed in that choice when he decided to go off on his own and branch out away from all you two knew.  You too were heartbroken, not knowing when you were going to see the others again.  It’s been 500 years of raising a village and being away from the rest of the world that seemed to evolve and grow.  

Ajak told you one last thing before you followed behind Druig.  You looked up to her as a mother, seeing the sense of comfort in her eyes as she gave you one last time.

“Take care of him and his heart,”

So you did.

Being married to the mind controller was nothing short of adventurous.  You two knew each other far too well, from the mannerisms to routine.  He loved sweets and you loved spice. You preferred simple affection in public whereas Druig saved his affection for the bedroom.  You loved to sleep in and take your time in the morning, whereas Druig loved to rise early with chores on his mind and take care of the village before the sun would even rise.  

It was a role reversal, you being the grumpy ball of sleep and Druig being the early-rising ray of sunshine.

“Druig…it’s too early,” You said as he was peppering you with kisses and laughing as he was.  It was one of the tactics that he would use to get you out of bed.

“Will you join me for breakfast?” He asked against your cheek.  You said nothing, attempting to ignore him as he then went for the next tactic on his list.  His fingers moved to go to your sides, tickling you and making you shriek in laughter as you writhed and wiggled in bed.  Druig never stopped, keeping his fingers along your skin as you were laughing and crying at the same time.  Druig never thought of anything more beautiful than you laughing on the bed, hair flying everywhere along your face and skin, the sun shining down on your dark hair to have it almost shimmer.  To him, you were everything and more that he would ever want and cherish in this life.  

“You won’t stop this until I say ‘yes’, will you?” You asked in a breath as he shook his head.  Finally, knowing that this was a battle you weren’t going to win, relent and sighed, “Fine.  Fine, I said!  Let me get dressed first!”

“Good!” He replied, his fingers retreating as you finally caught your breath again and he leaned back to have you sit up in the bed, “Although next time we can eat breakfast in bed since you covet this bed more than me,”

“..you’re not wrong,” You teased, then being silenced with Druig’s lips on yours.  You could take his sunshine attitude every day if you could, knowing that it would lift you up and push away the grumpiness that was deep inside of you.  No matter how much you hated mornings, you would take Druig waking you up with kisses and sunshine every day if you could.  His affection was shown in his smile, in his words, and in all he did around him and for you.  

You’d happily take 500 more years of Druig’s happiness over anything on this planet.  

The End

Grumpy Vs. Sunshine Prompt Session

[yerimbrit]

beam : r. sarang

synopsis: ryu sarang: the ultimate cuddlebug whom you cannot resist. (?)

# : pairing ! ryu sarang x 8th member!reader

# : tags ! reader's gender isn't specified, domestic fluff, it's all fluff really, extremely self indulgent, this is basically all of my thoughts but in a fic, ryu sarang we love you our dimple girl

# : wordcount ! 0.7k

# : warnings ! none

the one day you decided beforehand to wake up early and be productive, you find yourself trapped.

you try to squirm out of the arms of the intruder who probably snuck in last night, but you're trapped. trapped under someone's very warming, impossible-to-escape grasp.

who could it be? well, you can only think of one person—your fellow member of izna and lovely girlfriend—ryu sarang, that is. who else could it be? your roommate koko isn't one for crawling into your bed in the middle of the night. at least you hope she isn't.

once again attempting to get out of the arms holding you captive, the girl finally stirs awake and whines, only tightening her embrace.

you tap against her dainty hands with a sense of urgency, feeling your breaths shorten with each exhale. sarang loosens her grip, but doesn't let go.

"sarang..."

"no," the 'o' drags out, and an incoherent grumble follows, one which you can feel against your shoulder blade, "it's too early..."

that's true. it's six am, the sun only barely peeking out from the horizon, and its rays haven't made their way through your pink curtains yet. you're laying comfortably in bed, cooling blanket tossed messily over your (and your girlfriend's) torso.

there's no planned schedule, not for you, but the older members do—mai, jeemin, and jiyoon are attending an event later in the day as izna. you were planning on going on an early jog, stop by a newly opened bakery to buy some sweet delicacies for your members, then maybe continue working on lyrics for a song on the new album.

you successfully manage to turn around to face the girl, your hand reaching up to pinch her cheek. "when did you sneak in here?"

sarang scrunches up her nose, forcing you to resist the urge to pepper kisses all over her face in cuteness aggression. she fills your world with so much love (no pun intended) that you can't get enough of it; it's addicting. so addicting.

"i think maybe two am... i just felt like it," she mumbles, batting her eyelashes with a pout.

of course, because of how she's laying on her side, the effectiveness of her pout is amplified. having her do this right in front of you makes you melt, fighting a smile but ultimately failing in the end. "you're such a cutie."

sarang returns a smug dimpled smile of her own after seeing your struggle and hearing your comment. she's so pretty.

have you mentioned how perfect your girlfriend is? talented, passionate, charming, dimples. dimples? sorry, your other thoughts leaked in. ryu sarang is thee dimple girl, your girlfriend who is the cutest in the world and, no, no one can change your mind about that. not even puppies, because she also resembles one. it only adds to her cuteness.

regardless of your perfect girlfriend, you unfortunately have things to do today. an agenda that is not mandatory, but one you would rather not skip. "i have things to do, sarangie."

it's only after she hugs you closer that you're reminded of your situation: you're trapped in the unescapable embrace of ryu sarang. and now you're so close together that you can feel her breath fanning against your cheek. if you leaned in just a tiny bit closer you'd be able to give her sweet butterfly kisses.

"can't you do them later?" sarang frowns, her fingers lightly drawing nameless shapes onto your back. "it's so early."

yeah, it is. and you don't have any set times that you had to do the tasks that you had planned. her argument is completely valid, and a 'you lose' screen manifests in your mind.

"fine."

sarang blinks. "fine?"

"you win. let's go back to sleep." you surrender. saying no to sarang is a losing game, anyway.

your girlfriend grins in victory and swiftly pecks you on the lips. you wouldn't have known she'd kissed you if not for the lingering feeling on your mouth or her giggly mood promptly after—but you digress.

watching as sarang falls asleep rather quickly, the corner of your lips quirk up in content. you feel so lucky to have met her, and you feel even more lucky to be able to spend every next second, minute, and hour with her.

the peaceful rise and fall of her chest calms you, and you let your eyes fall shut. worrying about today's agenda can wait. worrying about everything can wait, debut, performances, photoshoots, whatnot.

you choose to bask in this moment, the sunrise shining through your pink curtains and your lovely girlfriend ryu sarang snoring lightly in front of you.

a/n : ryu sarang 😭😭😭🩷🩷🩷🩷

[allieslittlewritings]

*not my gif <3

Hotch's Office

Aaron Hotchner x Child!Reid!Reader

Summary: Reader wanders off to Aaron's office.

Warnings: None, reader is smart like her dad and loves astrophysics

Word Count: ~300

Spencer carried you into the bullpen and sat you down by his desk next to him.

Your babysitter cancelled last minute and the BAU didn't have a case assigned that day so Spencer decided to take you with him to work.

You had books and a few puzzles to keep you busy while he worked on filling out paperwork and reports.

Your dad also brought a pair of headphones for you, if you wanted to watch something or if the noises of the people in the office started to bug you.

Spencer got up to go ask Penelope about something.

He saw that you were busy reading and knew you wouldn't want to be interrupted.

The odds of you leaving his desk alone were low and he wasn't planning to take long so he left the room.

★

You finished your last book, and your third of the day, and your dad still wasn't back.

You looked at the books he had on his desk and questioned whether any of them would be interesting to read, he usually didn't mind if you read any of his books.

None of them piqued your interest so you just sat there, bored out of your mind.

You looked over at the other BAU members who were working at their desks.

They were clearly busy so you didn't want to distract them. But you were so bored.

Spencer's heart nearly jumped out of his chest when he got back to his desk and saw you were missing.

His eyes nervously scanned the room, not seeing you anywhere.

"Relax, genius, she's in Hotch's office," Emily said, seeing Spencer's worried expression.

"Oh, okay. Thank you." Spencer breathed a sigh of relief.

Spencer didn't want you disrupting Aaron while he was working so he quickly made his way to Aaron's office.

His door was already open, Spencer could hear you excitedly talking about something inside.

He knocked on the office door to make his presence known.

"Hi, Daddy," you greeted him from your place on Hotch's desk.

"Hi, sweetie, what are you doing?"

"Telling Uncle Hotch about astrophysics." She looked up at her dad innocently.

"Oh," Spencer chuckled. "Uncle Hotch has work to do, baby."

"But he likes hearing about astrophysics." She said, turning back to look at Hotch, "Right?"

"I do," Hotch smiled at you, "But sadly your dad is also right."

"But I haven't even gotten to the origin of cosmic rays yet," You pouted.

"Well, why don't you tell me about that the next time I see you?" Hotch suggested.

You mulled it over for a second before nodding, "Okay."

You hopped down from Hotch's desk and went to your dad who quickly picked you up and started exiting the office.

"Bye, Hotch," You waved goodbye to him over Spencer's shoulder.

"Bye, honey," He waved back before getting back to the report he was filling out.

"I like him," You mumbled to Spencer, resting your head on his shoulder.

Hotch liked you, too.

fin. ♡

[vigilante-3073]

Snooze

Dean Winchester x Female Reader

Summary: Late night research turns into an early morning cuddle session.

TW: Fluff, pining, flirting.

Dean Winchester sat at the table in the bunker surrounded by piles of books. With a glance at the clock in the corner of his laptop, he realized that Sam had gone to bed almost an hour ago. Dean was exhausted, but hated the idea of leaving Y/N alone to do research by herself.

The case they were working on involved children and those particular cases had always been a difficult for her. Y/N would stay up for days on end if it meant bringing a child back to their parent safely.

She was a ray of sunshine with a heart of gold, a genuine sweetheart who could do no wrong. Dean often found himself wondering why someone so good would choose to be involved with the Winchesters.

Y/N had quickly become the one stable point in the rocky relationship between Sam and Dean. She often played mediator between the brothers and Dean would never be able to thank her enough for that.

Dean's eyes wandered to the clock face of his watch. It was almost 4 o'clock in the morning and Dean sighed. He decided that it was time for the two hunters to drag themselves into bed for a few hours of sleep before hitting the books again.

He opened his mouth to voice his thoughts to Y/N before a soft snore from behind the large pile of books separating them stopped him.

Dean closed his book and set it on the edge of the table before standing from his seat. He rounded the table, a small smile coming to his face when he saw Y/N.

Her arms were crossed on top of her open book, head leaned against her bicep as she slept. Her eyelids fluttered as she dreamt, eyelashes brushing against the apples of her cheeks.

Dean squatted down beside her chair, hand rubbing over her back as he tried to wake her gently. She looked so peaceful, but she would be endlessly sore if he let her continue sleeping like that. Y/N made a soft noise before her bright eyes fluttered open, making Dean's smile widen slightly.

Y/N was absolutely gorgeous and Dean would never admit it, but he had always wondered what they could be together.

Dean knew that he didn't exactly have the best track record with dating and relationships. Hell, she probably thought of him as a friend and would never see him as anything more. Dean had decided a long time ago was better to preserve the relationship as it was than to push for more and be left with nothing.

"Sweetheart, you're drooling on a book that's almost a thousand years old. Let's get you into bed before you do any damage, alright?" He questioned softly.

Y/N sat up in her seat, grimacing as her back cracked from being hunched over, "You alright?" Dean asked, she nodded.

"How long was I out?" Y/N asked softly.

"No clue, but we haven't talked in almost three hours," He said, hand resting on her knee.

She allowed Dean to lead her through the war room and down the hallway towards their bedrooms. Dean opened her door for her, watching her shuffle across the room before falling into her bed fully dressed.

Y/N huffed, "Did you find anything?" She asked, "Not yet, but we both need to get some sleep" Dean said.

Y/N nodded and Dean rose to his feet, "C'mon, time for bed," He said, she stood from her chair.

He shook his head with a smile, making his way over and taking off her shoes for her. She shuffled out of her cardigan, half-heartedly tossing it towards the end of the bed.

Dean grabbed her folded blanket that had been draped over the back of her chair. He spread out the fluffy material on top of her, making sure she was fully covered before turning to leave.

Her hand slipped out from under the blanket, fingers circling around his wrist, "Stay," She said softly.

Dean felt his cheeks flush, they had shared a bed on multiple occasions, but he hadn't expected her to ask.

He liked having her in the same space as he and Sammy when they traveled so he could better protect her in case something happened. But this was different, this was her space and not just a matter of circumstance.

Y/N stared up at him, "Please, stay," She repeated, he nodded.

"Yeah, I'll stay," Dean said.

She let go of his hand, pulling her arm back underneath her blanket. Dean shrugged off his flannel and kicked off his shoes, crawling into the bed beside her.

Y/N turned to face him, tossing the blanket over him before slipping one of her legs between his. Dean wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her closer to himself. She rested her head down on his chest, snuggling closer to him.

Y/N tilted her head up suddenly, looking at him with wide eyes, "I'm sorry, I didn't even ask. Is this okay? I can back off if it makes you uncomfortable," She said softly.

"No, this is great," He assured, thumb rubbing back and forth across the small of her back.

She settled back in against him, resting her head down on his chest with a content sigh. They laid together in silence for a few minutes before she spoke again, "Your heart is beating really fast," Y/N stated.

"That's only because I have the most beautiful woman in the world using me as a pillow," Dean replied.

[whineandcheese24]

just watched Batman vs. Superman for the first time and was filled with an intense and visceral rage at the complete bastardization of Superman's character and story. the first actual meeting of Batman and Superman made me so mad I had to pause the movie and just breathe for a second, so to heal myself, I'm going to share how I think the two should meet.

(be warned, it get's long)

This isn't with any particular iteration of Clarke and Bruce in mind, but think mid-twenties for both of them. Bruce is a CEO by day, a playboy socialite by night, and The Batman by later night. He's rich, attractive, and nice enough for people to like him/want to be around him, and he's perfected his social persona, but he's honestly kind of a loser. Think Bruce from Gotham but older (personality-wise, not necessarily backstory-wise). He doesn't really have any friends or anyone important in his life except for Alfred and maybe Dick.

Clark is an up-and-coming reporter for the Daily Planet, with a friendly and sunny, if slightly shy, disposition, and most people like being around him because of that. He does his best to appear non-threatening, and this can cause him to shrink in on himself sometimes. Think Clark from My Adventures With Superman, but a bit older and wiser, and a bit more experienced as both a superhero and a reporter. He very much has people in his life who he loves and who love him.

Now for how Bruce and Clark meet. Batman and Superman have both been around for a bit now, maybe a couple years at this point, but between having to save their respective cities, and needing to get their bearings as superheroes, and most people still being skeptical about the existence of Batman at all, they haven't met yet. Bruce knows of Superman, and despite Superman's good actions and behavior, Bruce doesn't trust him. He thinks that Superman is dangerous, not to a malicious hatred point, but he's wary. And he knows that if Superman wanted to, or if someone else was able to manipulate him or harness his powers, Superman could destroy the world.

He wants to confront Superman, but he knows that if he does it as Batman, Superman will be able to see under his mask and figure out his identity. So instead of approaching Superman as Batman, he decides to approach Clark as Bruce. He invites Clark to a charity fundraiser, ostensibly so Clark can cover the fundraiser for The Daily Planet. In the time leading up to their first meeting, Bruce thinks that Clark is probably a fraud who's only pretending to be a hero and he's actually a conceited attention-whore who loves power.

But then Bruce meets him, and he's just... He's so damn nice. Bruce doesn't have any friends, and here's this guy who's the epitome of sunshine and everyone around him loves him, and Bruce doesn't quite believe it's real. He asks about Clark's thoughts on Superman in a loaded and slightly hostile way. Clark's initial response is very defensive but then shifts to earnest as Clark explains that he thinks Superman is just a man trying to do his best with what he was given. and Bruce just, doesn't know what to do with that.

The two of them exchange numbers and hang out whenever they're in each other's respective cities, all the while talking about Superman and superheroes and vigilantes, with Clark learning more about Batman every time he's in Gotham. Clark disagrees with Batman's methods, but Bruce argues that maybe he's just doing his best with what he has. Bruce gets to know Clark's friends and family, and he himself even becomes more outgoing and friendly just by being around Clark. Clark learns to be more strategic and skeptical by being around Bruce and seeing the tragedies in Gotham.

When Clark learns of Bruce's alter ego, it's not because of x-ray vision during/after a fight, or suspicious snooping. It's because Bruce chooses to tell him. In this version, Batman and Superman never start out as enemies. They often clash over methods and opinions. Sometimes, Batman can be too dark for Clark, and Superman can be too optimistic for Bruce. They argue and debate, but they don't fight. Because here, they've always been friends. Their relationship is built on mutual respect and admiration for each other's strength from the very beginning.

I just really want a world where despite their misgivings, they never start off as enemies, antagonists, or even rivals, but instead, from the moment they meet, they're friends.

[emphistic]

"I'm Lactose Intolerant"

Things Reader Should Acknowledge: I ACCIDENTALLY POSTED THIS ALREADY BECAUSE I FORGOT TO SAVE IT AS A DRAFT, i have yet to get the hang of tumblr, yuuji hasnt been born yet, the itadori parents neglect their children so grandpa takes care of them, waaaaaay later is when yuuji is born, sukuna gets his tattoos when he is older

Prologue: As summer nears its end, and autumn takes its place, you find yourself in quite the situation. A new family has arrived in the neighborhood, and your parents have tasked you with greeting your new neighbors. A wacky grandpa, a gloomy tween. Seriously, could things get any worse?

A/N: Sukuna is 10 years old, while reader is 9 years old. However, Sukuna was held back a grade, so guess who is joining your class this year? *cue the confetti*

Please REFRAIN from REPOSTING MY WORK (REBLOGS ARE EXEMPTED FROM THIS RULE)

PS: i know little kids shouldnt be walking the streets alone, but lets just pretend the world is a better place

Chores are boring. Errands, on the other hand? Well, not so much.

You shielded your eyes from the rays of the sun as you walked down the street, avoiding the cracks on the pavement. The sky bled as the sun set and the songs of the birds started to come to a halt. It was a typical Saturday, help get the groceries, head home, and assist with dinner as much as possible. However, what wasn't typical was the fact that there was a moving company's truck blocking your way home.

Wow, there's definitely a better way to go about this, you sigh. Mindlessly, you kick a pebble aside and tighten your grip on your tote bag as your stride continues.

Several men in navy colored uniforms carry boxes as another man, who you estimate is a septuagenarian, surveys the workers from the front lawn of his new house. The man, who you also assume is your new neighbor, has his hands clasped behind his back and wears a green wool sweater.

Deciding to be polite, you clear your throat, neaten up your braids, and slowly approach the man, cautious as you try not to give him a heart attack. At nine years old, one may not know much, but one might know that killing your elderly neighbor is a pretty wack first impression.

The man looks quite surprised to see you approach, and even raises a white brow.

Okay, maybe this is a bad idea, you think as your palms start to sweat. You go through several introductions through your mind just to go with the most lame one.

"Hello, sir. My name is Y/N L/N. I'm your . . . uhh, new neighbor," you cringed at yourself before holding out a hand to the man.

"Ah, wasn't expecting to meet my neighbors on the first day here. I am Mr. Itadori, pleasure to meet you," his voice sounded like that of an old man's, yet, it had such a warm, cozy feel to it. He took your hand and gave it a firm shake.

"Likewise," you say, after a few seconds of silence.

"Should a girl, — pardon my rudeness — as young as you, be walking out here alone at this time?"

"Aha, my parents trust this neighborhood enough. And anyway, I was only getting groceries from the store, it's not too far from this block actually." You pointed a finger in the direction of said store.

"Wow, you must be pretty responsible for your parents to be sending you out for groceries, huh? Good to know some children in this neighborhood help out their families," Mr. Itadori turned to face a boy, probably not much older than you, who was carrying boxes into the house when he put emphasis on the word "some".

The boy had pink unruly hair, that was slicked back and spiky. You held back a giggle at the sight.

"Grandpa, I'm literally moving furniture into the house. What are you looking at me for?" The boy grumbled, but he didn't stop as he moved the boxes.

"I never said you didn't help out. I was just simply telling Y/N here, about how some children help out their families. No need to get upset now, Sukuna." Mr. Itadori gave a small chuckle, before abruptly turning to face you.

"Oh, right! How rude of me, I haven't introduced you to my grandson."

"Oh, no worries. You guys are probably busy—" You began, before being cut off.

"Nonsense! Sukuna! Come here, boy."

Sukuna muttered something, and dropped off a box by the front of the house before moving over to you and his grandpa.

Now that the boy was closer, you could make out his red eyes, and the frown on his face. Looking back at Mr. Itadori, you noticed he did not share the same qualities as his grandson, and instead had brown eyes.

"What are you waiting for? Introduce yourself!" Mr. Itadori lightly pushed Sukuna closer to you.

The taller boy stared at you for what seemed like forever, before averting his eyes to the ground and keeping them there. "Name's Sukuna."

"Y/N. But I think your grandpa already mentioned that," you tried to lighten the mood.

You swear you heard him say something along the lines of "pretty name" under his breath, but before you could ask, Sukuna retreated to his boxes. His grandpa looked displeased at that. Actually, that's quite an understatement. He looked furious with Sukuna, but he didn't do anything other than sigh and bid you adieu and good night.

You slowly walked back to your house, your arrival being a little later than usual, which your parents questioned you about, to which you explained that there was a truck in your way.

When it was time for bed, you did as you usually did. Showered, changed into your pajamas and watched a movie before cleaning up and preparing to actually go to bed. As you moved to close your window blinds, you noticed something you hadn't seen in a long time — considering no one's occupied the house next door since it was put on sale — there was a window right across from yours, and the light was on.

You didn't plan on becoming a creep at such a young age, but due to curiosity, you didn't peel your eyes away from the window. It surprised you to see that the room across from yours was a bedroom belonging to none other then Sukuna. When you saw the pink spikes of his hair come near the window, you quickly shut the blinds.

The next morning, your mom shook you awake.

You groaned, "Mom. . . What is it?"

"We have new neighbors, honey! I've already started prepping for baking an apple pie for them—" You let her ramble on while you were still half-awake.

Oh, right . . . you never mentioned your meeting with the Itadoris. Now you have to introduce yourself to them, yet again.

"—I just need you to grab a few ingredients for me, if you don't mind."

"Sure, Mom. No problem." You stretched out your arms and yawned.

"Perfect! I'll let you get ready then. I'll give the list on your way out." Then, your mom got up, and shut the door.

You yawned again and rubbed your forehead. This was definitely going to be an interesting day, to say the least.

You met your mom downstairs and she instructed you on the ingredients you needed to purchase. "Uh huh, got it. Thanks. Bye, Mom!

Still half-asleep, you slowly slipped on your sneakers and headed out through the door. The sun warmed your face, yet sent a chill down your spine.

Apples and lemon.

Apples. . .

And lemons.

You hummed to yourself as you walked down the street, passing by the Itadori house.

Apples and lemons—

"Gah!" A little rock got in your way, and you were about to faceplant onto the sidewalk when you felt a firm hand on your shoulder reel you back upward.

You turned to see who your savior was, and cocked your head to the side in surprise.

"Sukuna? What are you doing out here?"

"No 'thanks for saving me, Sukuna'? Also, contrary to your belief, other people in this neighborhood get out the house too, y'know?"

You scoffed, jutting out your bottom lip, "Thanks."

Sukuna held a smug look on his face.

"So . . . you gonna take your hand off my shoulder, or should I do that tor you?"

He looked taken aback, and swiftly returned his hand to his hoodie pocket. "I have to go get groceries. My grandpa sent me, because our house is basically empty?" Sukuna acted as if that was common knowledge.

"What did you have for dinner last night, then?"

"Ordered in."

You mumbled, "Figured."

"Anyway, Grandpa told me you know where the closest grocery store is? I need . . . directions."

"Oh! Right," you scratched the back of your neck. "I'm actually heading there right now. You can come with." If Sukuna didn't want to go with you, he certainly didn't show it (surprisingly).

"So you're actually going to turn this way, down here, across this weird looking house or something — I actually don't even know if it has someone living in it — then go in front of this—"

"Stop talking, and maybe we'll get there faster," Sukuna muttered.

You turned around to face him; he had his hands in his pocket and wore a bored look on his face. You huffed.

"Go have someone else show you the way, then. Y'know, I was actually trying to be nice to you and all. I'm even showing you the shortcut. And now look at how you're treating me." You turned away from him.

"'Trying to be nice'? Please. You haven't asked me how day was going. 'Trying to be nice' my ass."

You ignored his use profanity at such a young age, and you came to a skidding halt; Sukuna even bumped into your back when you stopped abruptly.

"What is your problem!? So what if I haven't asked you how your day was going? SO WHAT? You haven't asked me either. If you don't like me just leave. me. alone!"

"People are so uptight these days," Sukuna shrugged.

"Uptight? UPTIGHT? Please, be my guest, and show me how I'm the uptight one here." You couldn't believe this dude. He's the only other kid in this neighborhood — besides your sibling — and he refuses to be cooperative, kind, nonetheless, a decent person.

The rest of the walk to the grocery store happened in silence. And believe me, the silence was loooouuuuddd. You wholeheartedly believed Sukuna would leave, but he didn't. Which made you even more mad.

The bell above the door chimed when you stepped in the store, out of pettiness, you didn't even hold the door for Sukuna. He scoffed at that, and you turned around to face him. "Well, here you are. The grocery store. Happy now?"

"I'm never happy."

Wow, he must've been dropped on the head as a baby, because he certainly did not get the personality from his grandpa.

You walked through the aisles one by one and searched for the items your mother requested.

Apples and lemons.

You didn't even bother placing them in a bag, insisting on carrying them yourself. Meanwhile, Sukuna was still trailing behind you, much like a lost puppy. His groceries were all in a bag, and he looked ready to pay, but he was still behind you.

Finally, you got sick of his weirdness, and peered over your shoulder to get a look of his face, which was frowning, "Why are you following me?"

He looked like he was pondering, thinking of a way to answer your question. "Girls shouldn't be walking around alone. Especially you."

"Ugh, there you go again. Always thinking you're better than everyone else. And, whaddya mean 'especially me,' huh? You don't think I can handle myself? Are you here to protect me or something? Swooping in to save the day, my knight in shining armor? Seriously, Sukuna."

He groaned, and dragged his free hand down his face, "I came from a not so safe neighborhood. Can't you see I'm just trying to look out for you? If some man came up and harassed you, and I was shopping in some other aisle, would you blame me too?" His voice softened on the last part.

"Forget it, you're right. I'm wrong," you sighed and walked to the register.

When you got home, your mom ushered you inside and hurried to start on the apple pie. You bit your nails as she worked, and she quickly took notice of that.

"Something wrong, sweetie?"

You shook your head, and mouthed a simple "no".

While you were upstairs reading a book, you heard the beeping of the oven, signaling the completion of the baking process. Before you could even put down your book, your mother called out to you from downstairs.

She welcomed you in the kitchen and took great care in wrapping the freshly baked pie in tinfoil and sending you off to the Itadori house. But before that happened, however, she made you memorize your speech, reminding you to inform your next door neighbors of who originally made the pie. And with a soft pat on the back from your mom, you were off.

It was a quarter past 12 o'clock when you finally found the courage to knock on your neighbor's front door. You heard a "coming!" from inside the house, and returned your hand to its side.

Loud footsteps came closer until finally the door was flung open. You were greeted by the sight of Mr. Itadori in a fluffy red robe, and equally fluffy slippers.

"Ah! Y/N. What a pleasant surprise to see you here."

You stuttered a bit, "Hi, Mr. Itadori. My mom and I wanted to formally introduce ourselves, and welcome you to the neighborhood — I didn't mention our very much brief meeting yesterday."

"Oh wow! You can tell your mother I appreciate her kind welcome." He turned his head into the house, and called for, "Sukuna! Come here, boy."

"Oh, I wouldn't want to be a bother—"

"Agh, you children. Always the same. Nonsense, Y/N. Utter nonsense."

Sukuna stood behind his grandpa in record time, his speed surprised you. "What's she doing here?" He sneered. You offered him a glare in return while Mr. Itadori was oblivious.

"Don't be rude to our kind neighbor. She's here to formally introduce herself."

"Again?"

"Yes. Again."

"Whatever."

Your eyes flickered back and forth between the Itadoris' banter. "I've brought some apple pie — my mom baked it."

Mr. Itadori's eyes lightened up as you presented the tinfoil covered dish to him. "It smells delicious! You really didn't have to, my dear."

"It was no big deal, I promise," you laughed (nervously).

"I will put this on the counter, one second," Mr. Itadori walked away, leaving you and Sukuna alone. The taller boy crossed his arms and leaned against the doorway.

"Apple pie? Really? Are you trying to kill me and my grandpa? I'm lactose intolerant. We're lactose intolerant. He just didn't want to seem rude, so he's putting it away."

"Oh. . . uhh, I didn't know that—"

"I can tell. You didn't think to ask first? How considerate of you, Y/N."

You stumbled on your words.

"I'm just messing with you. Apple pie is his absolute favorite."

Your jaw dropped six feet, before you came back to your senses and rolled your eyes, "Did you have to scare me like that?"

He laughed aloud, "Duh. Shoulda seen the look on your face. Priceless!" He continued to laugh, while your expression remained stoic, trying not to laugh as well. You didn't want to give him the satisfaction of thinking he was actually funny.

When his laughter subsided, he cocked his head to the side. "What's with the face? Girls don't know how to joke around or something?"

You frowned.

Mr. Itadori returned to the both of you and patted his grandson on the back. "Well! Thank you again, Y/N. Tell your family I say thanks and appreciate their kindness."

"Of course. I'll be going now." You waved to Mr. Itadori — feigning ignorance to Sukuna — and walked back to your house next door.

When Sukuna and his grandpa sat at their newly assembled dining table, they both couldn't believe how good the apple pie tasted. Sukuna even asked for a second slice.

Mr. Itadori broke the silence, "So, school starts tomorrow."

Sukuna glanced at his elder, and raised a brow.

"Since you don't know anyone else at your new school, you can ask Y/N for help. She'll be in your grade anyway."

Sukuna sighed, "Grandpa, why are girls so difficult?"

"Ohoho," Mr. Itadori's laughter boomed throughout the house. "You're a funny one, Sukuna," and he ruffled his grandson's unruly hair, messing it up more.