#I hope I did a good job and you guys enjoyed the chapter

[isawritesshit]

The Color Blue - Chapter 1

image taken from @ lovevivianne on pinterest

Synopsis: As the only daughter to the leader of the Kamo Clan, you were trained and protected to one day bring your father honor through your marriage to the heir of the Gojo Clan. However, your husband ended up being something that your family never prepared you for. As you come to navigate a new world of politics between the clans, your husband convinces you that there is nothing wrong with honoring yourself too.

Warnings and Content: fem! reader and slightly ooc! (?) gojo (ig; i feel like i didn't write him as in character as i wanted), cursing, allusions to and anxiety about marriage consummation, themes of traumatized and anxiety-ridden reader, themes of forced/arranged marriage

Author's Note: Fuck me in the ass, it took me wayyy too long to get this out to y'all I'M SOOOO SORRY GUYS I DIED AND NOW I AM REBORN BACK AND SEXIER THAN EVER! Anyway, I'm at least happy to finally get this out for you guys because you guys gave me so much love for the prologue (mwah mwah). If you have yet to read the prologue, pleaseee do so! Provides some good context to the premise of the story. I'm going to flag once more that there will be themes of nsfw and physical/mental abuse down the line!

Word Count: ~7.3k

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"Are you afraid of me?"

He spoke. You masked your surprise easily. Did you look afraid? What made him suspect that? How do you answer?

Respond clearly. "No, Gojo-sama. Apologies if I seem at all startled in any way. I am taking in my new surroundings," you replied with a slight incline of your head towards him.

Satoru's eyebrows raised a little. It was the first time he had ever heard your voice. As he suspected, it was graceful and beautiful, but still so sad. And what was with the honorifics? He waited a second for you to say something else, but nothing came. "Do you like it? The house that is." Satoru figured the only way to get anything out of you was to ask himself.

He asked you a question. Respond clearly. Tell him what he wishes."Yes, your home is beautiful Gojo-sama. I'm very fortunate to be living here as your wife." Your words sounded exactly the same, clipped and poised to perfection like the small smile you had on your face. Your skin was cold despite the amount of fabric that covered it, but you refused to shiver. You refused to tremble despite the fear you were feeling. Yes, you had trained and prepared yourself for this. You would be fine.

Satoru only cocked his head and crossed his legs, observing you like a painting from where he sat on the couch. "Thank you." His voice conveyed his usual charisma, but the look he was giving you did not. He sighed as you only bowed your head again and said nothing. He could tell you were afraid, you just didn't wish to admit it. Was it stubbornness or nervousness that had you standing like that before him, looking both strong and weak at the same time?

After a few moments, he spoke again, this time with a little more calmness and reassurance. "I don't bite, y'know." Not a word left your lips at that. You didn't even move. It was like he had a statue standing in a wedding dress in the middle of his foyer. Not a statue, a corpse, with unfeeling, empty eyes. Maybe you weren't happy with the current situation. "Did you like the reception? I'm sure you had input in the planning."

Take this chance to show your worth. "I planned the entire reception, Gojo-sama. I hope it was to your liking." You clasped your hands even tighter as you waited for his reaction.

Satoru raised his eyebrows. "Oh, wow. I'm sorry then, I'm sure you liked it because you put it all together. Well, uh, I definitely enjoyed it, and I'm sure everyone else did too. You did a great job. Uh, thank you," Satoru chuckled. He meant every word. Planning an event of that nature must have been a daunting task and you had done it all on your own. You must be pretty independent.

"Of course, Gojo-sama. It was my duty," you replied with another bow. The fear in your gut subsided at his words. It seemed he could be won over by acts of service.

Duty. That's when it clicked in Satoru's head. You saw this as 100% a duty. Well, it wasn't like he didn't see this arrangement as a duty too, but it had always been more than that to him. It was both a duty and an enjoyment. At least, that's what he hoped it would be for the both of you.

He said nothing for a few moments. You didn't move. He could tell by the uncomfortable silence that the household staff was probably listening from somewhere nearby. Perhaps that also made you uneasy. "Let's head somewhere more private," Satoru murmured, and stood from the couch.

Private? A chill ran down your spine that worsened when he made his way over to you. Were you both going to-

You remained silent as he took your arm gently and led you up the steps of the grand staircase. He moved slowly, watching and searching you for any indication of emotion or feeling, but you gave him none. He cleared his throat before speaking once more. "That outfit seems uncomfortable. I'm surprised you've been able to wear it all day."

Your mind was running circles around his words, but you didn't show it. Is he going to offer to take it off me? Why is he being so gentle with me? Where is he leading me? A bridal chamber? A bedroom? "It is not uncomfortable, just a little heavy," you responded, forcing yourself to keep your voice even. "The tailors did a fabulous job with it."

Satoru hummed and muttered his agreement. He would take this as slow as possible. He knew that the first thing he would have to do was make you comfortable. "I see. If you would like, you may change out of it, and I can take you on a tour of the rest of the estate. Or, you can sleep if you're tired."

This seems like a test, you thought. Which option would he prefer? "I can change and join you on a tour of the home," you responded. "If that is what you wish of me."

Not exactly the answer he was looking for, but an answer nonetheless. "Alright. I'll show you your bedroom. It's apart of my rooms of the estate. I hope that's alright," he said as he guided you towards a set of double doors down the hall.

Satoru stepped before you to open the doors himself, a few staff members walking out past. You assumed that they were finishing their cleaning for the night. You could tell a few of them looked at you as they passed, though you never looked up to meet their gaze.

You could tell these were Gojo's chambers, as they were decorated somewhat differently from the rest of the house. While the entire house had a more contemporary feel to it, his part of the estate added western styles to it: gray and white furnishing, an upstairs that led to an open second floor balcony overlooking the first floor living room space, comfortable carpeting, and a woodsy, homey scent. There was a dining area and billiards further to the right to entertain guests. Truly a home within a home.

Satoru led you up the stairs, watching as you looked over the second floor railing into the living room. When you reached the top, he gestured to the first door on the left. "This is my bedroom here, in case you ever need to find me," he said as he moved you two forward. "And this one is yours." He opened the next door over.

Satoru let you step into the room first. "I wasn't sure what you would prefer in terms of the color of the room and everything, so I had a few of my staff design it for me. Do you like it?" he asked, a slight guilt to his tone. He felt bad that he knew almost nothing about you. He didn't even know where to start when he began planning to incorporate you into his home, but he figured an inviting bedroom would be a start.

"Yes, very much so" you replied. The room was bigger than your one at the Kamo estate. The furniture was made of oak wood, with the room itself having accents in white and various shades of purple. The canopy bed was plush and had silk sheets. Most of your attention was drawn towards the bookshelf in one corner, which already had some of your books as well as many new ones. The closed curtains, which had little butterflies sown on them, had moonlight escaping into the room. The wall to the right had another door, which you assumed led to the bathroom and closet. "Thank you for arranging this for me, Gojo-sama."

You moved your gaze down as you turned to face him. "Of course," he chirped.

Silence once more.

He sighed audibly. "You're gonna hurt your neck if you keep looking down like that, pretty girl. Especially with that monstrosity on your head," he said softly as he approached you. You stilled, jumping a bit as Satoru reached his hands forward to grasp the top of the headpiece. "Shh, I'm not gonna hurt you, okay? Just taking it off for you," he murmured when he saw you tense up. He removed the headpiece gently, letting your hair fall. He resisted the urge to touch the soft locks upon seeing them unbound, and instead opted for setting the headpiece on a side table. "There. Feels a lot better, doesn't it?"

"Yes. Thank you, Gojo-sama." You still didn't look at him. After a pause you asked, "May I go change now?"

Why did you ask for permission? "Sure," he answered, a little confused as he watched you retreat into the bathroom. He stood awkwardly in the room as he heard you shuffle around behind the door. He sighed and leaned against the bed. What was it that had you so... uptight? Why wouldn't you relax?

Meanwhile, you made yourself busy undressing and slipping out of the heavy fabrics of your wedding garb in the bathroom, hanging up the piece and choosing a simple, flowing dress to change into. You looked into the mirror once more, and paused.

You had forgotten about the white lace lingerie your handmaidens had forced you into while dressing you this morning. A provoking technique, they had called it. It was beautiful, the entire ensemble having been comprised of silk and lace with little flowers adorning it, but you felt incredibly uncomfortable now that you saw yourself with it on. You felt more like a prized ham, wrapped up and ready to be eaten. And that is my responsibility tonight-

Your thoughts were broken by the sound of movement coming from the room. Right. He's still out there. You thought back to how he had taken off your headpiece. You couldn't help but be frightened for a moment, but then the way he removed it had been... gentle, as all his other actions toward you had been.

You were used to men like him: large, imposing sorcerers, with big egos and even bigger amounts of cursed energy. However, when any of those men came close to you, maybe even to just put a hand on your shoulder, their touch was also gentle, but not in the way Satoru was. They were gentle and domineering. Satoru had been both gentle and considerate.

But what he had called you...

It still felt like he was trying to get something out of you. And you didn't like it.

You slipped on the dress over the lingerie, letting the soft velvet material warm you as the skirt ended at your ankles. You had always liked this evening dress.

Satoru's head shot up when he heard the door click open. You stepped back into the room, ready to be led. Your apparel took him aback at first. He had expected you to choose something comfortable, a t-shirt and leggings at least, but you still came out dressed like you were going somewhere. You looked beautiful though, and he supposed it was nice to see you in something that wasn't clan-styled regalia (didn't matter that he was still wearing his outfit from today).

Satoru said nothing as you took his arm and let him lead you into the estate. Although he didn't look directly at you, he observed your movements. Beautifully robotic was the way he could best describe it. But why?

Then it dawned on him. The wedding had been ceremonial, so your actions there he could ignore, but everything after... it was like you were still in the ceremony, even in this moment. He saw it firsthand when you said your goodbyes to your family. You would be seeing them so much less now that you were married, yet neither of your parents nor siblings hugged you or expressed any emotion when sending you off.

Then finally with himself. You never looked at him. You complimented him at every opportunity. You asked for permission to go get dressed.

He could never get you to relax. To be comfortable. It was like you were being monitored by some invisible camera that he couldn't see and that you feared.

Duty. 100% a duty.

He looked down at you once more as you walked down the hallway, eyes trained ahead. Yes, those eyes had been his first sign, he realized. For what once held liveliness and curiosity in youth had been replaced with a senseless, dull husk of what he remembered.

Something had happened in those seven years since he last saw you. He felt sorry for you.

He felt sorry because he felt like this was somehow his fault.

But that wasn't going to stop him from trying to be the best he could to you.

___________________________________________________________

An hour later, Satoru had shown you about half of the estate, everything between recreational rooms, kitchens, dining rooms, and his own personal office. Yet, as he talked, you seemed disinterested, elsewhere.

The both of you were on the first floor, walking down a hallway with floor to ceiling windows on the left wall.

"There's not much left to show you, or at least anything that's interesting anyway. If there's anywhere else you'd like to..." Satoru's voice trailed off when he looked at you again, staring out of the windows as you passed.

There. You looked out the windows toward the estate garden, your eyes wide, glittering, and curious. He opened his mouth and then closed it. You looked like a little girl staring at a new doll in a toy store. Finally, something that he could read from you that you refused to hide. Wonder and interest.

Satoru stopped walking when the two of you reached a set of glass doors that led outside. "Do you want to see the garden?" he asked, almost chuckling when you nodded eagerly. "Let's go then." He opened one of the doors to let you through, watching you with amusement. You still kept your face neutral, hands folded over your chest as you stepped out into the open air before walking, practically running, over to the vast flower beds and trees across the lawn.

He just stared as you bursted with this sudden childlike excitement. So you can be won over somehow. Satoru laughed under his breath, a small smirk on his face as he went to join you. You started by walking between bushes, running your hands along any part of the plants as you could. He never would have guessed that you were interested in plants, but now that he thought about it, it made sense. He could see you being the type of girl that's interested in feminine things. Things like dresses, books, and maybe even chocolate desserts. Things like flowers.

You were kneeling next to a bush of blue hydrangeas as he approached. He thought you looked perfect like this, the moonlight playing off of your hair, skin, and dress while you ran your fingers along petals. However, when you realized he was getting closer, you quickly got up and returned to how you were in the foyer: standing straight, hands clasped, and head bowed. It stopped Satoru in his tracks, but also made him understand a little more of how you worked.

You must see a husband, him, as an authority figure that you have to please. Satoru didn't know why. Maybe your family pushed you to be a good wife, but now you're just taking it too far. You must be able to relax when you're comfortable, or when you're alone. That had to be it. Right now, you seem to view this place as comforting, so he had to be the same.

And if he seemed to make you feel uncomfortable, he would leave you alone.

But first, he had to try to get through to you.

"Do you like gardens?" Satoru asked, even though the answer was really fucking obvious.

"Yes, Gojo-sama," you replied. "I like flowers and plants. They are a great enjoyment of mine. Your garden is the most magnificent I have ever seen."

It was the best Satoru had ever seen too, but at this point, he couldn't tell if you were lying to him just to make him happy. He took a step closer and huffed a little. "Y'know... you don't have to call me that. I mean, I'm your husband, not the emperor," he chuckled, though he was dead serious. Laughing through it was the only way to show that he wasn't mad at you. "Why do you like flowers? Or these ones in particular?" He gestured to the bush that you had been admiring.

If you were nervous or scared, you didn't show it. You seemed to be pondering for a moment as you looked at the bush. "I... don't know. Flowers have interested me since I was a child. I used to keep up a garden at home."

A garden that you'll never get to take care of again, he realized. "Well, if you want or... if you need something to do, I can have someone show you where we keep our gardening supplies. You can do as much or as little as you like of course."

Your eyes lit up at the request. "That would be lovely, Gojo-" He could tell you were about to add the "-sama" at the end, but stopped yourself. He still smiled at the way that you seemed to beam in the current setting.

"What other things do you like? Do you have any hobbies?" Satoru asked, watching as you continued to run your hands along the plant.

"I like music," you stated.

"Really? You play any instruments?" He proceeded to raise his eyebrows as you listed a slew of different types that you knew how to play, though you added that piano was your favorite. "What else?"

"I like... cooking, and cats, and," you settled one of the hydrangeas in your hand, "the color blue."

Satoru hummed in response. He felt like he was getting somewhere. "Really? Well in that case, I guess I should've had your room be that color."

"Purple is still just as nice," you replied with a small smile. It was brief, but he could tell it was genuine. It took his breath away. It was almost embarrassing, this effect you were having on him.

"Yeah, I guess." Satoru dared to move a step closer to you. He could see you tense, and decided this was as far as he would get. Maybe now was the time to get some answers out of you. He watched your hand continue to rub the petals. "How do you feel about... all of this. Really."

"Your garden is dazzling-"

"No, I mean our... situation. Be honest with me," he said gently, but the way he worded it almost made it sound like he was pleading with you.

You paused before answering. Your hand stopped moving. "This marriage is just as important to me as it is to my father and the Kamo name. I will do right by him to ensure that it succeeds. And not just for him, but for you as well." Your tone was light and sophisticated, your voice sweet as can be, but it still felt fabricated. Rehearsed. Satoru wasn't buying it.

After a few moments, he decided to try something a little bold. "Look. I'm not your father, okay? And this isn't the Kamo estate. You don't have to be so... restrictive around me. I know this is, like, your first time ever talking to me, but I'm not some authoritarian." He almost regretted the words when he saw your guilty face. "But of course, that also means I'm not going to control the way you act. You can do whatever you want, say whatever you want. It's all fine by me." Silence again. "(Y/N)?"

You seemed... confused. Satoru spoke again. "Are you feeling alright? All I'm saying is I want you to be comfortable here. If that means... not interacting with me as much, then I get that."

Still nothing.

Satoru sighed. Maybe he needed to take a different approach. Maybe he just needed to leave you alone for a while. "If there is... anything else you want to see, I can show you. Otherwise, I'm going to go to bed. You can stay out here as long as you want..." he said softly. He began to turn away from you, listening for your movements as he started to walk inside. You only walked from your spot and moved further into the garden.

The halls echoed with the sound of his footsteps. That went... much differently than expected.

He thought back to fantasies he used have of what this night would look like: learning more about you, showing you around the estate, laughing with you until both of your stomachs went numb.

Kissing you for the first time in that garden, and, if you wanted it, carrying you back to his room in seconds.

But as he thought more about it, Satoru realized just how unlikely those scenarios would have been, especially with the current situation. He speculated that your behavior was a combination of your familial expectations, anxiety, and the fact that you were meeting him for the first time. Not to mention, he knew he wasn't the most approachable-looking person in the world.

This was going to take some time. He would let you get used to the house first, get used to seeing him and the other staff around. Then eventually, you might begin to open up to him once you felt safe.

Or you might not talk to him at all.

Satoru really hoped it didn't come to that.

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Some time ended up being much longer than what Satoru thought you would need. It had been a week since you last spoke, and you made no effort to approach him.

He did get some semblance of a routine you kept. You were definitely a busy body, always up and ready with a full breakfast waiting for him on the dining room table before he was up (although, since he had the following two weeks after the wedding off, he was sleeping in later than normal). By the time he was finished eating and getting ready for his day, you had gone halfway through your daily routine, which included cleaning and managing the state of almost every room in the whole building. Once that was finished, you prepared lunch, taking your portion out to the garden to eat. The rest of the day you used for your own recreation, usually something along the lines of taking walks, reading, or taking care of different parts of the garden. Of course, you still had time set aside to make him dinner before you stayed in your room for the rest of the night.

Just noticing the things you do throughout the day was a source of admiration from him alone. Satoru knew that the kind of work he did would be considered maddening and dangerous, yet he accomplished everything with ease. He couldn't help but think of you in the same light. You completed the same tasks everyday without fail or signs of fatigue (gods know he could barely clean a fucking toilet without gagging). He noticed that the meals you cooked were not just chosen randomly, but instead were meant to be perfectly balanced in terms of nutrition while still complimenting every bite he took. In other words, fucking delicious. Satoru knew he wasn't a bad cook either, but you made five star meals like it was no one's business.

He would see you often around the house, your skirts or dresses flowing as you flitted about. He could tell you favored modest clothing, usually in either knee to floor-length dresses, or blouses with skirts of the same length. Your makeup was simple, your hair always done up and clean.

Whenever he was close enough to you or entered a room you were in, you always bowed politely and addressed him, never saying more than was needed, before returning to whatever it was you were working on. Satoru knew if he asked, you would sit down and have a conversation with him or eat with him, but he wasn't going to push it. He wanted to be sure it was something you were okay with.

Yet hours and days dragged with almost no change. What was meant to be your two week honeymoon break passed, and Satoru had to return to his missions. Somehow you had already known what time he gets up to eat, and, just like almost any other day, there was a breakfast waiting for him.

No sign of the person who cooked it, though.

Satoru decided he couldn't take this anymore, the awkwardness and silence. No, he was going to find you and asked if you wanted to eat this breakfast with him.

Luckily, he found you in the kitchen putting away dishes you had just finished washing. "Good morning, (Y/N)," he said, trying to sound as polite as he could without frightening you.

You must have been lost in thought, because you jumped when he said your name and turned towards him.

Head bowed. Eyes down. Hands folded.

He was tired of it.

"Good morning, Gojo," you replied. "I hope you had a restful evening last night."

"I did..." he said. "I was just... wondering if you wanted to eat that delicious-looking breakfast you made with me. You're allowed to say no, of course." He felt stupid having to add that last bit.

"Apologies, Gojo, but I already took my breakfast this morning, but I sincerely appreciate your offer." He felt his stomach drop inside him a little. "Is there anything else I can get for you?"

"No, it's fine. I'll be home later tonight." He tried to keep his tone from sounding disappointed. He couldn't be mad at you for eating before he asked you. However, Satoru wanted to end the conversation positively, with something not so... stale. He turned to walk to the door, looking once more over his shoulder at where you still stood. He opened his mouth once, closed it, and then opened it again. "You look gorgeous today, by the way."

That surprised you. Not the words necessarily, nor the fact that these weren't your best clothes, but the way he said it. Like he meant it. It stirred something in you. You decided to look up at him, but he was already gone.

A while later, Satoru was dressed and ready to go, his car parked just outside with the AC blasting. He walked down the grand staircase... with you waiting for him at the bottom.

You were waiting for him. He paused in front of you once he reached the bottom of the steps. You had assumed your usually stance, but... he could tell you wanted to say something.

"I... realized that I never asked what you would like me to make for dinner for when you return..." you said as if you were just realizing that you were standing here, and you needed to make up an excuse.

It tugged at his heartstrings a bit. You had never asked if he had a preference for dinner, so... this was you trying to approach him to start a conversation. "Well, whatever you want to make is fine. You're such an amazing cook. I would never not eat anything you make," Satoru exclaimed with a small smile before leaning in a bit as if telling you a secret. "But, if I must request something, I reallyyy like mochi desserts," he whispered before pulling away. "But you didn't hear it from me."

Your small smile and barely noticeable laugh made his heart explode. Pride swelled in his chest. So you have a sense of humor in some regard...

He smiled and walked past you to the door, walking through before-

"Gojo," you called from across the room. Satoru turned at the sound of you calling his name.

"Have... have a nice day today..." you said, giving him a small bow.

His eyes widened in surprise before he flashed you a grin. "You too, pretty girl." And just like that, he left, the door shutting behind him.

Satoru was trying to do his best not to holler in excitement on the other side of the door. You went out of your way to meet him at the front door and ask what he wanted for dinner and told him to have a good day? He felt like a middle school girl. A stupid smile plastered itself on his face as he walked to his car.

And stayed for the rest of the day after.

___________________________________________________________

The next few weeks went just the same: him waking up to breakfast that you sometimes stopped by to eat a few bites of, you saying goodbye and asking what he wanted for dinner at the door, and him coming home to that meal in the evening, which you occasionally ate with him also.

Satoru felt pretty spoiled if he was being honest. He never liked those mysogynistic views on gender roles, especially when it came to the roles of a husband and wife, but he was now understanding the appeal. He had assured you a few times that you didn't need to have something home cooked and ready for him each time he came home, and that he was just as fine with takeout, but that never stopped you. He knew it was serious, if not a little concerning, when he asked for a three-tiered Danish cake for dessert as a joke and you had made two because you, in your words, got bored and had the time. He didn't even know he owned the cooking supplies needed to do that. Nevertheless, to say he ate most of that within a few days would be an understatement.

As time grew, Satoru had been able to observe you more closely. There were the normal things, like the type of books you liked to read (mostly poetry), what time you liked to take your walks (sometime between 3:00 and 6:00pm), and what days you went to the grocery store and farmers market (Wednesdays, if he's correct) despite household staff insisting to him to tell you to stop because it was technically their job. He could never find himself to do so.

Then there were a few... less fortunate things. You still don't look up at him, for starters, and your voice still retained that proper, unnatural tone. Besides the times where you say goodbye to him in the mornings, you always observe and never speak unless he speaks to you. You have a cell phone, but you almost never use it, so he assumed you probably have no friends that you contact, or even family that wanted to contact you for that matter. Lastly, among a few more things, you always try to sneak an ice pack from the fridge some nights when you think he can't see it in your hand as you walk back to your room with it. He never knew what it was for, until he saw it on your neck while you read in the library, something he had to peak through the doors to see.

You get neck pains because of the subservient posture you forced yourself to have around him, and Satoru started to think just how far back this training you had been given goes. He knew that you couldn't get neck pains from bowing if you've only been doing it for a month.

One day, he brought the situation up to Yaga as they watched some student sorcerers training out on the grounds. "You really don't know the kind of backwards training the Kamos put their girls through?" Yaga asked, fixing a stitch on one of his jujustu dolls. "I thought you knew what you were getting into, especially since you're in one of the clans yourself."

"Well, I'm starting to see it," Satoru says with a wince. "I just don't know how to get her to... relax, I guess. Act normal, y'know?"

"Do you think she even knows how?" Yaga mused. Satoru went still. "The Kamos are traditionalistic; their customs span all the way back to the Golden Age of Jujustu as a way to preserve the glory of that time period. This includes how they train their... females."

Satoru furrowed his brow. "What do you mean?"

"Well, I don't know much," Yaga said, a piece of the string in his mouth as he adjusted a stitch. "The kinds of things like how to please a husband, how to raise kids, how to behave around authority figures, which includes men. Weird stuff like that. And if (Y/N) is Arao Kamo's only daughter that was betrothed to marry the Six-Eyes wielding Gojo clan head, you can expect her to be well educated in that regard."

Satoru sighs. He felt stupid for not looking into that, for chalking it up to some kind of anxious defense when it was much more than that. "I'm a real fucking idiot."

"Yeah, well, while that may be true, there's not much you can do but give it time. With the kind of stuff she was brainwashed to believe, the least you can do is give her some patience," Yaga said, finishing up his patch.

"True, but that'll take forever," Satoru groans, looking out at the young sorcerers sparring. "She won't do anything unless I tell her to. She doesn't know what it's like to just... have some sort of free will."

"Then maybe show her what's like to have one," Yaga says with a groan, settling back into the bench they were sitting on.

There was a pause before Satoru chuckled. "This is the one time you've actually given me advice that I considered listening to."

"Good. You should, otherwise I'll send you on another mission from this weekend," Yaga grumbled.

"Fine, I'll listen."

___________________________________________________________

That next day, Satoru planned on asking you about something when he saw you before he left.

"Hey, pretty girl," he quipped with a smile as he walked down the stairs, enjoying the slight blush that formed on your cheeks, something he had noticed the past few times he called you that.

"Good morn-" your gentle words were cut off by a sudden cough and a sniffle that caught his attention. He stepped in front of you.

"Hey, are you alright? Is your throat okay?" he asked, his usual teasing tone replaced with one of concern.

You seemed to pause for a moment before speaking. "I'm alright. Something caught in my throat is-" You coughed again, this time more aggressively as you turned to cover it.

Satoru's brow furrowed. He gently pulled your chin so you could face him again. He felt your forehead with the back of his hand. "You're burning up, (Y/N). You probably have a fever."

"I can assure you, Gojo, I feel-" You gasped as you were suddenly lifted into his arms, his hands resting underneath your back and knees as he walked you back up the stairs. He smiled a little when he felt you throw your arms around his neck.

"Please don't lie to me, (Y/N). How long have you been feeling like this?" Satoru asked calmly as he carried you to your room. You looked down at the floor.

A pause. "About the past two days." Satoru sighed.

He opened the door to your room and set you down on the bed. "Hold tight, okay? I'm just going to go grab some things..." He left and returned a few minutes later with an ice pack wrapped in a towel, some medicine, and a glass of water.

Setting the items down on your bedside table, Satoru started by ripping two pills out of their packaging and handing them to you with the water. "Why have you been walking about like normal when you've been feeling this way for the past two days?"

You took a moment to take the pills before answering. "I am well enough to complete my usual routine, so I saw no need for rest. I had the staff prepare your meals to make sure you did not catch my illness," you replied weakly, trying not to cough.

Satoru shook his head. "But we have people hired here to do those tasks anyway. You still need to take care of yourself." Your brow furrowed.

"But I'm still-"

"Don''t fight me on this," Satoru butted in. You lowered your head, eyes despondent. "I don't mean to say I don't appreciate what you do every single day. Really, I really appreciate it. But I don't want you doing anything when you're clearly feeling like shit."

"My apologies-"

"Don't apologize. Please." Satoru's mouth tightened when he saw the ashamed look on your face, the way your shoulders caved slightly. He spoke again, this time more smoothly. "I'll call Yaga to cancel my appointments for today. Just let me take care of you... and don't feel bad about it. Okay?"

Satoru didn't care that he was almost begging with you, but he needed you to understand that that's all he really wanted right now. To take care of and cater to you for a change instead of you constantly doing so for him.

"But, you might get sick too..." His chest tightened a little at the guilt you displayed, your tone of voice, the slight whine in it.

"That's fine. Just means I don't have to go to work longer," Satoru chuckled, moving to sit on the edge of the bed next to your legs. "But don't think that's the only reason I'm here with you now, of course."

Your lips moved into a small, downturned smile as you huffed a laugh. You weren't even smiling in full, yet he thought it was the most beautiful thing in the world.

A sharp, painful sounding cough from you broke the silence. Satoru handed you the water again, propping another pillow behind your head. Once you finished, he took the water from you and handed you a woolen blanket that you had resting on the end of your bed. "I'll get some lozenges for your throat and some tissues. For now, just rest for me, okay? I'll come back to check on you, but if you need anything just yell. I'll be in my room," he said as he adjusted the ice pack onto your forehead.

"Okay," you whispered. You looked almost... stunned. Like you never expected this. It made Satoru sadder than he would like to admit.

After a few seconds, he stood, turned off the lights, and shut the door quietly. He walked away right before the sound of your soft cries reached the door.

___________________________________________________________

Satoru looked after you for the next two days, making sure you took medications and got proper rest. Even when you were well enough to get back on your feet, he still made your meals and brought you ice packs and popsicles at night for your throat.

He apologized the first few times he served you food, scratching the back of his head and laughing. Sure, his grilled cheese and tomato soup wasn't bad, but it was embarrassing compared to your culinary genius. You never replied, looking back at him with a perplexed expression.

Satoru noticed this, and he had his suspicions as to why you may be confused. Because you had been living with him for the past month and a half, he was able to easily discern what your looks meant, or at least, what he thought they meant. Your confusion was not necessarily because of actual confusion, but rather, because you weren't used to gestures like this. It was a little disheartening, of course, but slowly, you began to accept them with a small smile and nod of your head. It put him at ease to see you that way.

Now was the third day Satoru stayed home to be with you, and because you seemed to be doing much better, he knew this would probably be the last day he would have to do so. Thus so, he wanted to make the most of it.

It was early afternoon when Satory began to approach your room. You had taken to sleeping in while being sick, and if there was one thing he had definitely learned from this time with you, it's that you could sleep when you weren't waking yourself up at a certain time. He found it cute, and somewhat surprising.

He snuck into your room as you slept, gently placing the reason he came in on your bedside table: a vase, with those blue hydrangeas in it. And just as he was about to walk out, you called his name.

Satoru stilled and turned slowly. You were staring at the flowers on the bedside with a haphazard, exhausted look on your face. God, and just when he thought this moment couldn't get any more precious...

"Fuck, sorry, I didn't mean to wake you up. Goddamn, and I had it all planned out too! Having you wake up to flowers, I was just gonna get cracking on some blueberry pancakes and everything-"

"Oh... are we celebrating something?" you asked, looking between your hands and the flowers.

"No, 's just because. Unless there's something you want to celebrate? Happy your-fever-decreased-from-103-to-101 day?" he chuckled. "Anyway, I'm going to attempt to make pancakes even though I'm ass at it. Hope you're okay with Frosted Flakes as a fall-back option." Satoru turned towards the door again. This woman has him adding blueberries to his pancakes-

"Satoru...?"

He paused, stopped, buffered, restarted. Did you just call him Satoru? His brain was running laps around the replayed sound of your voice in his head as he turned. He was elated, estatic, down-right jolly, one might say.

And then all that was thrown out the window he faced you completely, and you were looking right at him.

Head up. Eyes bright. Smile... paragon.

"Thank you... for taking care of me."

Satoru knew you weren't just talking about this past three days. He felt like a five year old boy laying his eyes on you again for the first time as he, the ever so confident, swaggering, and teasing Gojo Satoru, flushed. "Yeah, no, it's no biggie, you deserve it cause you do so much and you're my wife so I kind of have to and-" he bumped into the door behind him, "fuck, you know what? I'm just gonna shut up and go... pancakes... haha, yeah..."

This poor man Satoru turned the corner and facepalmed, shutting your door behind him while your small laughs could be heard from the other side of the door. Running a hand through his hair, he tried his best to compose himself while he walked away, but then your face flashed in his mind again, and it was like he had a buzz that reached from his brain down to his whole body. He was smitten.

Once he reached the kitchen, soft music playing from his phone, he searched up that pancake recipe. While he began to get out ingredients, there was a knock as someone entered through the doors that led to the rest of the estate. One of the household staff.

"Sir, there's a guest at the front door," the woman stated.

"Who?" Satoru asked as he leaned over the counter while scrolling through the recipe.

"Arao Kamo, sir."

Fuck.

___________________________________________________________

tags: @leonora13x @cole-silas @feeiry @mysuperrainbow @tw0fvced @emptybrain01 @xixiwang @drilled-brain @lvieee @xxkoyukixx @we-loveebony @sereniteav @ilovecoyotepeterson10 @baby—vera @jebemticeluporodicu @louannfox

I love you guys

[reidmania]

sharpest tool | s.reid

(chapter three, full machine)

‘I'm a forest fire, you're the kerosene. I had a life here before you, but now it's burnin'. I know I know better and you're ignorin' me, still, if you asked me to run away, i'd go easily’

summary; you know you have a bad history with relationships, so to try not to get in your own head when you stop hearing from spencer.

warnings; fem reader, mentions of bad relationships, ghosting, commitment issues, self doubt & overthinking, preettyy angsty idk guys, no comfort yet but there is some fluff, and theres penelope & reader friendship!! reader lowkey shit talks spencer but he deserves it. reader is embarrassed & upset.

taglist; @gghostwriter @lavonee @guiltyyassin @spencersinonlygf @criminalmindssworld @iknwreid @fortheloveofgubler @yokaimoon @sapphirecobalt-1 @eddiesdrummergf @livvyliv15 @lover-of-books-and-tea @sebastiansstanswhore @bloodredrubyrose @sp3ncelle @nemobee777 @jencole214 @hazzarules

2.1k words.

SERIES MASTERLIST

Two weeks. It had been two weeks since you had last seen Spencer. You understood the demands of his job, that it kept him busy and a lot of the time you were fine with that — you enjoyed your space and your own personal time. You had never had an issue with him being gone on cases before but he would always text you or call you when he got the chance.

And never had he been on a case for two weeks. Not that you knew of anyways.

It was difficult not to jump to conclusions and ruin the idea of him you had. It was difficult not to shut down. It was difficult to not think ‘how could you be so stupid’ and you were trying really really hard to not repeat past mistakes and project past relationships onto this one.

But it wasn’t even a relationship.

It wasn’t like he had talked to you at all. The first two days after he left for his case he had sent you numerous texts, telling you how sorry he was for having to leave early, he called you on the first night and stayed on the phone until you had fallen asleep. Everything was normal. There was nothing that set off any warning bells in your head.

That made you feel even worse.

You hadn’t spammed him with texts, nor calls. You hadn’t messaged him since the last text you sent was left on delivered. You wouldn’t beg for him to reply to you, you wouldn’t beg for an explanation on what you might’ve done wrong. You’d rather live with the lack of closure than further damage to your pride.

But then there was a part of you that wondered if maybe something happened to him, a big part of you worried that something happened to him — actually. You tried to ignore the lingering dwindle of anxiety in your stomach as you carried on with your day to day life. You tried so hard to ignore it.

But two weeks was a long time to ignore an aching gut feeling, one that kept you up at night and never seemed to go away.

Could you have called Spencer? Yes. You could’ve. But did you want to risk the call being ignored and every lingering doubt in your mind being proven correct and then be embarrassed about it? God no.

You were a shame spiral when you instead texted Penelope, who had given you her number when she saw you and Spencer at the grocery store, the last time you had seen him. She begged you to reach out when she got back so you two could arrange to hang out.

You weren’t even sure if they were back. Normally you would know that by Spencer coming over to your house at some ridiculous time and delving into your arms like it was the only place he had ever been able to call home, but he didn’t come over this time.

It was a simple text, ‘Hey Penelope, how are you? I haven’t heard from Spencer in a while so i just wanted to make sure he was okay’

It was good enough. You didn’t want to explain how you just wanted to make sure he was alive so you didn’t feel guilty for hating him. You didn’t exactly want to hate somebody who was dead. Yet a twisted part of you hoped that something had happened to him, because at least then he wasn’t just ignoring you.

What you weren’t expecting was your phone to light up with an incoming call from the one and only Penelope Garcia. You answered it, partly scared that she was calling because texting you to tell you that Spencer was dead seemed insensitive.

“Hello?” You answered. The place in your bed warm from the weight of your body as you shuffled slightly. It wasn’t exactly late, but it was past evening times. You heard mumbling and shuffling on the other side of the phone, before a happy voice.

“Hello my sweet angel!” Penelope greeted you, even in your doubtful mood the warm greeting from the sweet women made a smile line your lips. “I got your message — I’m a little confused. He is fine, he just left work” She answered.

Okay. Not dead.

“Oh” It passed through your lips because now you were just overwhelming confused. “Uh- How long have you guys been back?” You asked, almost afraid of the answer you would receive. You were hoping she would tell you they had only just gotten back, and that the case had been so busy that nobody had time to text anybody.

“A little over a week.” She answered. That made your chest tighten, a lot. Almost painfully. You didn’t want to cry, you didn’t want to give the situation the satisfaction of your tears. You didn’t want to give Spencer any more power over you.

“Right. Okay. Thanks.” It came out shakier than you intended it to be and a wave of embarrassment washed over you. You took pride in your ability to not care about things like this, you didn’t get emotionally involved because of this reason. Your mind was overwhelmed with an abundance of doubts and self depreciation. Embarrassment. You were so embarrassedz

“Did Spencer not tell you? He has been stroppy all week. We thought maybe he had messed up and you were mad at him.” The words came out as a playful joke, but you found it humourless. Because although you weren’t mad at him, you were now.

You wondered if you even had a right to be mad. Clearly he wasn’t dead, so he was just ignoring you. You hated how much that thought made your heart hurt an overwhelming amount. You hated how you had now let someone in enough for their absence to have an effect on you.

“He.. No. He hasn’t told me” You mumbled out, your voice representing how distant your mind was from this conversation. A million different thoughts and each one as bad as the last. You didn’t want to tell his co-worker and one of his friends that he had just up and ghosted you, you didn’t think it was fair, but you could basically hear the confusion and concern lacing her voice. “He hasn’t talked to me at all in over a week..”

“What?” Her response came out hard and fast, tone laced with clear shock and confusion. “Thats- I mean it was a rough case but.. not.. that rough — Maybe he is just overwhelmed? Have you tried calling him? He can get distracted easily.” She rambled, trying just as hard as you were to find a valid explanation for his sudden disappearance.

But you both knew Spencer. Or you thought you did. You knew enough to know about his memory. He didn’t just forget. Or maybe he did. Were you forgettable for him? Were you something so minority important that it slipped through the tight grasp of his memory. Oh that wasn’t a fun thought.

“No- uhm.. I’m not going to call him.. If he wants to talk to me he would.” You muttered. You wanted to believe that, you wanted to not care as much as you were making it out to seem you didn’t. You wanted to feel casually about it. About him.

You really regretted kissing him two months ago.

You wished you could be the type of person who believed that was no point dwelling, the type of person who would be grateful it happened rather than sad it was over — but you just weren’t. You didn’t think you were capable of getting over someone unless you hated them with every fibre of your being. Unless they hurt you to the point of no forgiveness. You couldn’t be glad it happened — not when it ended like this.

It always ended like this, you knew that from the start.

“Im so sorry. I have no idea whats going on with him!” She apologised in his behalf and it was almost funny to you. How come a girl you met once seemed to have more remorse than the guy you had (stupidly) falling in love with.

You shook your head, but she couldn’t see you. “Don’t apologise. Its fine. Its not a big deal really. We weren’t much of anything anyways.” Maybe the words came out fast enough for you to believe them, maybe they were to try and convince yourself that it was true — that it was how you felt.

It seemed it was how he felt.

“Oh sweetheart” Penelope synthesised. “How about this — We can have a massive movie night at mine sometime over the weekend and if you haven’t heard from him by then, then we can talk about how bad his eyesight is and the amount of sugar he puts in his coffee” She mumbled.

You let out a laugh, you wished that his bad eyesight and way too much sugar was the worst you could say about him right now. Your opinions on the boy seemed a lot stronger. Although it made your heart ache that it was his friend apologising and making you feel better.

“I’d like that.” You said, pulling your knees closer to your chest as your curled in on yourself in your bed. You hated how cold and empty it felt without his presence by your side. Even with the same glow of your fairy lights, the room was lit with the same warmth when it was just you.

You were mad. If you could only use one emotion to describe how you felt it would be mad. Embarrassment, disappointment, hurt — they’d all be thrown out the window. You were just so mad.

At him, for making you believe that maybe things would be different, for letting you get close to him, allowing you to trust him, open up to him. You were mad at him for giving and taking like it was some sort of game. You were mad at his lack of communication. You were mad at how he once looked at you like you held so much value only to leave as if you were worthless.

But you were more mad at yourself. You had made it a rule not to date. You had a life, a good happy life before. You busied yourself with work and going to the library to read and get a moment of peace beneath the shelves of books, you enjoyed getting your coffee’s from the small cafe on the corner in the morning, and dancing with your small group of friends at the club on the weekends, and then Spencer came along and now all those things you enjoyed so much seemed dimmer without knowing you’d see him at the end of the day.

You were frustrated because you knew better than to let someone get close to you. You knew how codependent you became on the existence of another by your side. You knew this. You knew all of this. You knew you were cursed, unloveable if you really wanted to hurt your own feelings. You knew this.

Yet you let yourself get sucked into his sweet words and empty promises, his soft touch and warm embrace. You let yourself believe that things might be different this time.

And god were you mad about that.

But most of all, you were mad about the fact that despite all of this. All of the doubt and anger swirling through your veins and leaving every harsh breath that existed your lips, you didn’t hate him. You were mad at him — so mad, but there wasn’t a single part of you that would ever say you hated Spencer Reid.

Not optionally. If it was up to you, you would go back in time and you wouldn’t have let him get close enough for the line to be between love and hate.

You worried, still. About if he was okay, what he was doing. You hated that. You hated that he had made you soft.

You hated that you let him make you soft.

You hated that you still wanted him to reach out to you, apologise and say he had just been so busy, or say he just needed time after the case. You hated that if he showed up on your door step right now you’d probably let him in without a word — whereas if this was prior to six months ago you would’ve slammed the door in his face and told him to get fucked.

Love didn’t come easy for you. But loving Spencer was the easiest thing you have ever done. Hating him was near impossible.

[buckysdollbarnes]

you are in love series - part one

one look, dark room

PAIRING: tfawts!bucky x grad student!reader

Summary: Moving to NYC to go to grad school, your friend's dad has a connection with the owner of a rental building in Brooklyn where you can live on your own, for cheaper than you could get anywhere else. On a student's budget, you strive to still make your place your own by thrifting as much decor as possible. Meeting your quiet and somewhat secretive neighbor, James, you gain some free labor to help you move the random stuff you buy, and with that he may be growing to love parts of the modern world he has been missing. With you in a big, new city feeling alone for the first time and Bucky wanting to make a connection with someone other than Sam and his therapist, maybe online marketplaces and a turntable will bring you both what you need most.

warnings: mild language

word count: 4.7k

a/n: this is my first time EVER writing fiction, usually I only ever write academic papers so this is fun. :) I read over and revised this chapter so many times, so I hope you enjoy it! Feedback is always welcomed and I'm excited to start on the next chapter.

a/n: also!! sorry for it being so long genuinely just so much had to happen in this chapter for it to be set up the way I wanted, which I think I did well enough. lmk what you think <3

Why did I think carrying this by myself was a good idea? It might be cute and a great deal, but I don’t think I'll be able to feel my arms tomorrow. I might need to hit the gym again before I find more bargains like this. Hell, maybe I'll even invest in a neck towel, because this heat is unbearable. I’ve been searching for some larger pieces to fill my apartment, and this vintage bar cart should fit perfectly. Just five more blocks to go.

Moving here alone has certainly come with its challenges: being on my own in such a big city, dealing with a lot of stress, and managing on a tight budget. But I’m determined to make it work though and prove everyone wrong. Growing up, you see so many romcoms where the heroine leaves everything behind to chase her dreams in NYC, landing a job at a magazine or fashion house, living in a gorgeous high-rise, and meeting the perfect guy. It’s a beautiful fantasy really, but the reality is much tougher. New York isn’t a movie set; it’s a real city with real people, and you have to work just as hard, if not harder, to be here. I know that, but it feels like a majority of my people back home DON’T know that I know that.

I came here for school. In about two months, I’ll be starting my Master’s program at NYU. I don’t think I’ve ever been as proud as when I received my acceptance email. I worked my ass off in undergrad to earn strong recommendations and good academic standing, and seeing it all come together was a huge relief—until the reality of the cost hit me.

Luckily, a friend's dad has a connection with a landlord in Brooklyn and got me a good deal on a place of my own. It’s incredible not to have a roommate in this market, especially in a place where your bed doesn’t touch your stove, though it can be a bit lonely.

Finally, reaching the stoop, out of breath, you set the cart down on the pavement. Wiping your brow, you notice the street is unusually quiet for this time of day. The city never truly sleeps, but the residential streets seem to take occasional naps. A little breath of air somewhere where it feels like oxygen is running out sometimes. Light filters through the trees, momentarily blinding you, and you turn back toward the building.

“How on earth am I going to get this up to my floor?”

Carrying it down the street was one thing, but hauling it up the stairs is a whole different challenge. Plus, who knows when the building's maintenance has last been here, the steps might not hold up under the cart’s weight. They usually feel like they could give away holding one person.

Deciding that falling to your death and being crushed isn’t really how you want to go, you open the double doors and drag the cart into the lobby, using the wheels on one side. Passing the main desk where the worker, who looks completely uninterested, engrossed in a crossword puzzle, you make your way to the end of the hall and start pulling the cart backwards up the incline of the stairwell.

“Nah, I can’t,” you say aloud, after struggling up two floors, letting the cart rest on the landing. There’s still three more floors to go, but your body is clearly telling you the cart belongs right here. Maybe the universe wants it to stay here—who knows, maybe the entire second floor needs a communal bar more than you do.

“Excuse me,” a quiet but rough male voice comes from behind me. You turn around to see him—a guy you’ve seen around your floor a few times, though you’ve never talked. One of the neighbors. You quickly realize you’re blocking the entire staircase.

“Sorry! Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry. I’ll move this um — just give me a second.”

You shove the cart closer to the wall to make some space for him to pass, but he stays put, his gloved hands in his pockets. He’s definitely handsome—tall and solid, but not intimidating. His furrowed brow and tight-lipped expression don’t exactly scream “welcome,” but he’s still got a certain charm.

He shifts a bit, clearly wanting to say something but hesitating. Feeling a bit awkward under his gaze, you decide to try talking to him again.

“You can just squeeze by if you want. It’s just really heavy, so I’m taking a quick break before I try lifting it up again.”

After a moment, he seems to make up his mind and asks, “Do you need help?”

Looking back at him, you consider saying no. You pride yourself on being independent and capable, and part of you wants to insist you can handle it. But then you think about the struggle of getting the cart up the last two flights of stairs—only this time, it's three—and decide against it.

“You wouldn’t mind? You’re headed down, I’m sure you’ve got somewhere else to be.”

He gives a little smirk that makes you feel a bit dizzy.

“Well, I’m already here so.”

You nod slowly, a small smile appearing on your face.

“Sure, you can take this end, and I’ll get this o—” you start to say, but before you can finish, he’s already in front of you, lifting the cart with ease and starting up the stairs without breaking a sweat.

“Hey! Be careful, uh—,” you pause, realizing you don’t know his name.

He picks up on your hesitation and hesitates himself, considering whether to give his name. He’s wary of how others might perceive him, potentially recognizing his name from past news broadcasts or papers, still dealing with the shadows of his past despite his efforts to make amends. Not wanting to be dishonest, he chooses the safe option.

“James.”

“Be careful, James. I don’t want you tripping and falling on my account.”

“Won’t happen, doll.”

“What-,” you start, caught off guard by the pet name, “what if it does?”

“It won’t, see?” With the last few steps, you and James arrive at your floor. “Already here.”

He must have seen you around before too, to know where you live.

He gives you a quick look and then carries the cart to your door.

“This is yours, right?” He turns and looks at you expectantly. You rush over, fumbling for your keys to unlock the door. If he’s willing to move it all the way, who are you to turn him down?

You lead James into your apartment, wondering if it looks anything like his. The layout can’t be that different; it’s not exactly a luxury building.

He strolls further into the room.

“You can set it right here,” you say quickly. “Thank you for bringing it up for me. I was honestly thinking about giving up when you showed up.”

Setting the cart where you indicated, he straightens up, rolls his shoulders back, and gives you a look that feels intense.

“It’s no problem.”

His gaze wanders around your apartment, taking in the mix of vintage furniture and eclectic decor. On a student’s budget, you’ve filled your space with secondhand finds. It’s more affordable and personal that way. The place might not be filled with new things, but it’s entirely curated by you. Finding beauty in the mix of old and new is something you do well, and now, thanks to James, you have one more piece to add.

James’s eyes land on your turntable setup. He seems intrigued by your collection of records but doesn’t say anything, turning his attention back to you.

“I have to go.”

Your eyebrows lift at his abruptness. Sensing your surprise, he quickly adds, “I’ve got an appointment.”

You nod vigorously, urging him to go and thanking him again for his kindness. Feeling a bit sad that this chance encounter with your new neighbor is ending so quickly, you call out as he heads for the door.

“I’ll see you around then? Since you live here too.”

He turns on his heel, giving you one last smirk.

“Yeah, you’ll see me.”

As he heads down the stairs, you shut your door and lock it behind you. Wandering over to where James’s gaze lingered, you pull an album from the shelf, lift the acrylic cover on your turntable, and set the record down. You close the cover, push play, and let the needle softly drop onto the vinyl. As the music starts, your mind drifts back to James.

Embarrassingly, you find yourself hoping this isn’t a one-time encounter. You don’t know much about him beyond his name, but there’s something about him that makes you want to see him again.

“Two hundred bucks for this is crazy,” you mutter to yourself, staring in disbelief at the sofa you’re eyeing on Facebook Marketplace.

“People are practically giving this stuff away.”

Not wanting to miss out on such a good deal, you message the seller to check if it’s still available.

Since you got the bar cart about a week and a half ago, you haven’t picked up anything else. With the July heat blasting, just thinking about moving a sofa in this weather makes you want to rip off your skin to cool down.

You can’t help but think of James, who you’ve seen briefly in the hallway since your last encounter. He just nodded as he passed by, and that was it.

Your phone dings, snapping you out of your thoughts. The seller confirms the sofa is still available and offers to deliver it since they have a truck.

Excited, you reply with a yes, and they let you know they’ll head your way soon.

You get up to rearrange your furniture, making space for the new sofa. You don’t have much to move since you’ve been slowly collecting things. As you shift the pieces around, your turntable stops, signaling it’s time to flip the record. After you do, you take a moment to picture how the sofa will fit in the space.

Then it hits you—moving a sofa is way heavier than the bar cart. If you struggled with that, how on earth will you manage this?

“Independent woman, my ass.”

With the delivery imminent, you decide on the only solution you can think of. Without hesitation, you head to the apartment across the hall and knock softly on the door. You wait, hoping James will answer. After a moment of shuffling and then silence, you start to wonder if you should just try something else.

Just then, the door cracks open, revealing half of James’s face. He looks curious but not annoyed—no one usually visits him.

“Hey! James! Great to see you again! I hope I’m not interrupting anything, but I was wondering if you could help me out a bit? I just bought a sofa from this marketplace deal, and the seller’s coming to drop it off right now. He said he’d deliver it, but didn’t offer to help get it up to my apartment. I realized a sofa is way heavier than a bar cart, and you saw me struggle with that, so I was kinda sorta hoping you could help me bring it up here?”

After your rambling, you offer him a hopeful smile, waiting for his response.

A few moments of silence later, that smirk you’ve been missing appears on his face. Opening the door wider, he comments with a grin.

“You bought another thing you knew you couldn’t get up the stairs?”

“I honestly didn’t think it through. The deal was too good to pass up. I’m really sorry for bothering you. I can try to find someone else if you’re busy.”

“I didn’t say I wouldn’t help, doll.”

The smile that blooms on your face is unavoidable.

As the delivery guy drives away, James shows you where to grab the sofa and effortlessly lifts the other end. He encourages you to take the lead, making sure the weight is on him as you both navigate the stairs. With minimal effort, you get the sofa up to your place.

After some awkward maneuvering, you finally get the sofa into your apartment through the thin door and set it down. You put your hands on your hips and exhale deeply, only to find James already looking at you with that same intense gaze from before. It makes you a little nervous.

You can’t help but feel grateful—there’s no way you would have managed this on your own.

“I could have handled the bar cart,” you say, nodding toward the cart now adorned with bottles in the corner, “but this? No chance. Thanks so much for your help.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he replies. “I wasn’t busy.”

As you look at him, you start to feel like you know him from somewhere beyond being just a neighbor. Maybe you’ve seen him around the city before you moved?

Brushing off the thought, you offer, “You’ve helped me out twice now, and it doesn’t feel right not to return the favor. If your whole evening consists of not being busy, why not stay for dinner? I promise I’ll cook something totally good and not poisonous.”

James looks surprised by your offer but quickly hides it.

“You don’t need to do that. You don’t owe me anything,” he says, not wanting you to feel obligated or uncomfortable. He worries that his presence might not be enjoyable.

He wishes he could be as charming as he was back in the 40s. Being friendly used to come easily, and if he were still the same person he was at 26, he wouldn’t have left so quickly after helping you on the stairs the first time. He wouldn’t have had a therapists appointment to go to and he wouldn’t have a hidden arm made of metal. He’d have asked you to dinner or for you to let him take you dancing instead in return for his brawn. Now, he struggles to make new connections beyond a few familiar faces, like Sam, and asking someone for a dance feels out of reach.

“No, no! Stay, I insist! It gets kind of lonely around here, doesn’t it? Why not have a friend dinner?” you press, hoping he’ll take you up on the offer.

Seeing your sincerity, though still feeling a bit miffed, he finally agrees.

“Yeah, sure. I can stay.”

James settles onto the sofa while you work in the kitchen. You’ve decided on making some stuffed ravioli and garlic bread—easy, delicious, hard to mess up.

Before getting into cooking, you switch out the record, letting new music drift softly through the space. Unbeknownst to you, James watches closely, paying attention to how you handle the records and the turntable. The care you take when putting a record back in its slip, taking a new one out of its dust cover, and gently putting it on.

Seeing you focused on cooking, James gets up and strolls over to your setup. He runs his fingers lightly across the spines of the record sleeves, feeling a surprising sense of comfort. He hadn’t realized people still used record players so often.

The setup looks quite familiar to him, with many aspects reminiscent of the record players he used back in his earlier days. In his life before this one.

As you finish preparing the pasta and pull the bread from the oven, you call out, “Hey, food’s ready!”

You glance back to see James hovering by the turntable. He quickly moves to the table and sits down.

Over dinner, the conversation flows comfortably. James seems to be relaxing a bit, his initial reserve fading. He’s still somewhat guarded, but what he does share is genuinely interesting. You sense that opening up is challenging for him, so you respect his pace and take whatever he is willing to give. Laughing with each other a few times and getting through some odd topics, he mentions that he hasn’t had a home-cooked meal in quite a while and thanks you with a smile.

After a pleasant dinner, you decide to bring up something you’d been curious about.

“You like records?”

Caught off guard by the question, James tries to answer without revealing too much about himself. It feels strange to be here, knowing you don’t really know who he is, but he worries that being too open might scare you away. He decides to keep his secrets for now, selfishly hoping to get to know you better before revealing more.

“Yeah, I used to have quite a few records as a kid. My ma would play them too, especially when she was cooking, just like you. I didn’t realize they were still so popular.”

Excited by this glimpse into his past, you push further.

“Oh, there’s definitely a huge market for vinyl. Lots of people who think it makes them superior, but also a lot who just love the physical aspect of it.”

“So which one are you?” he asks.

You laugh and reply, “Maybe a bit of both.”

You glance up at him from beneath your lashes, catching his rare smile.

“But really, I just like having it. There’s something different about the listening experience. It requires more effort than just hitting play on a playlist. It’s about choosing a full album and actually sitting down to listen. That feels more intentional to me, and that’s why I do it.”

James seems to ponder your answer, his expression softer than before. He then turns his gaze back to the turntable.

“So, since you mentioned you had records as a kid, do you not have any now?” you ask.

He shakes his head.

“Haven’t had any for a long time. Talking about it makes me miss them. Everything these days feels so complicated. I like simple things like that.”

Watching him as he looks away, you hesitate but notice the nostalgic shine in his eyes. You sense he might appreciate physical music even more than you do.

“If you ever get any and don’t have a place to play them, you’re welcome to use mine.”

He turns to face you, his expression unreadable.

“I mean, I know it’s not the most convenient offer, but it’s there. One record lover to another,” you add with a smile.

He returns your smile, saying, “Okay… thank you. I’ll keep that in mind, Doll.”

That night, Bucky lies on his makeshift bed on the floor, staring up at the ceiling and replaying the events of the day. You knocking on his door for help with the couch, inviting him over for dinner, and all the easygoing conversation you shared. It was such a stark contrast to his usual rigidity. He'd let his guard down just a little—letting himself smile or flirt ever so slightly.

He wishes he were better at this. It used to come so naturally. Hell, before he left for war, he’d gone dancing with both his own date and Steve’s at the same time. Now, he finds himself listening to you talk while struggling to share anything of his own.

He doesn’t want to pass up your invitation, especially since you’re inviting him into your space again. Clearly, his reserve hasn’t put you off too much.

“What would I even bring?” he wonders aloud.

All he’s ever listened to is 40’s music and big band. He doubts that’s readily available these days.

Rolling onto his side, he grabs the cell phone Steve had insisted he get before he went back in time to live his real life, without Bucky.

“You can do anything on here, Buck!”

Scrolling through the three contacts he has, he taps on the name of the guy who’s been trying to reach him for weeks.

“So, is there a valid reason why you haven’t picked up my damn calls?” Sam’s voice comes through.

“Sam, hi.”

“Did you finally learn how to click the screen? Is that why I’m hearing from you now, old man?”

“Look, I’m sorry. I just don’t like the thing. Too confusing,” Bucky says, grimacing as he fiddles with the phone.

“Okay, okay, what’s going on, man? You doing alright?”

“I’m fine. I just have a question and I’d appreciate it if you didn’t harass me about it.”

“Is it about wizards?”

“What?”

“Wizards. Is the question about wizards?”

“No, what the hell. Look, I had dinner with one of my neighbors tonight—”

“Was it a girl?”

“Does it matter?”

“Hell yes, it matters. And from that response, I KNOW it was a girl, so—”

“It doesn’t matter. She has a record player, which I didn’t know people still used, and she offered to let me use it, but I don’t have anything to play on it.”

“I’m not getting the problem.”

“I only like the stuff from the 40’s and—”

“Did you listen to that Marvin Gaye playlist I sent you?”

“Not interested.”

“C’mon, man, it’s good stuff. Give it a listen.”

“Not feeling it.”

“Alright, your loss, I guess. Still not seeing the problem though.”

“What do I bring? I can’t just bring around the stuff I know because where would I even get it?”

“Whoa, man, what do you mean, where would you get it? Just go to a record store and hit up the vintage section or something.”

Bucky pauses, mulling over Sam’s words.

“They have that?”

“Duh. You know, you could answer these questions a lot easier if you just looked them up on your phone—”

“Thanks, Sam. Talk to you later.”

Lying back down, Bucky decides that the next time he’s out to see his therapist, he’ll first stop by a record store to find something to bring over to your place.

Your easygoing presence was so comforting, and he found himself longing for it as he drifted off to sleep. He’d see you again soon enough.

Later in the week, as you wind down from a busy day, you focus on making your space as calming as possible.

You light some candles and turn on an orange floor lamp, the soft glow wrapping around you and setting the perfect mood to sink into your sofa with the book you’ve been neglecting.

You’ve just started settling into your reading when you’re jolted out of your half-nap by the sound of someone knocking on your door.

You get up and peer through the peephole, and there’s your dinner guest from earlier in the week.

Opening the door with a smile, you greet him.

“Hey James, unexpected visit! What’s up?”

His eyes linger on you for a moment before he speaks. You glance down and realize your outfit—shorts that really lived up to their name and a tank top—might not be the most guest-appropriate.

Brushing off your embarrassment, you look back up at him.

“I’ve got something I’d like to play, if that’s alright?”

Bucky’s mind races. Standing at your door, he worries maybe you only offered your place to be nice, and now he’s making a fool of himself. Of course, you didn’t want him there—he could barely talk.

Just as he’s about to get lost in his own head, your bright smile pulls him out of it.

“Oh my gosh, please, come in. What do you have?”

His doubt fades away as he sees your genuine excitement.

“Brought some Sinatra. Not sure if you’re into that, but I used to like his stuff when I was younger.”

You spin around abruptly, staring at him in disbelief.

“There’s no way you think I don’t know who Frank Sinatra is…”

Bucky stumbles over his words.

“Well, I mean, it’s not exactly new stuff so—”

“You think I wouldn’t know ‘Fly Me to the Moon’? ‘Singin’ in the Rain’? ‘New York, New York’? I mean, I even moved to New York—I had to get the romanticism from somewhere.”

“What are those?”

You pause, confused.

“Like, the most iconic Frank Sinatra songs. You are talking about Frank Sinatra, right? Not some other Sinatra I’ve never heard of?”

“No, you’re right, it’s Frank.”

“Then what do you mean?”

“I guess I don’t know those ones.” He admits.

“So, what era are we talking about?” You ask, reaching for the record.

As you grasp the sleeve, you notice a glint of light catching James’s bare hand. Realizing he’s not wearing gloves, confusion sets in before it clicks. You HAD seen James before.

Looking up at him, he seems frozen, obviously panicking. He planned to tell you eventually, but not like this. Not when you weren’t close enough yet.

He thought there is no way you are going to want anything to do with him now.

You thought there is no way was there's an actual Avenger in your apartment right now.

You’re frozen, just like him, but more in shock rather than fear.

“Do you… usually go by James?” you ask cautiously.

Hesitating, he shakes his head.

“What do you usually go by then?”

Bucky feels anxiety creeping up his back. You’re both still holding the record, and he can’t tell if you’re scared or just surprised.

“Bucky.”

You stay silent for a moment while Bucky’s nerves are on edge.

“So… metal hand…”

Clenching his jaw, he replies, “Arm.”

“You’re that Bucky.”

“Yes.”

After a long pause, you start again.

“You’re an Avenger and you didn’t tell me?”

Bucky hesitates, his discomfort visible. “I’m— I’m not an Avenger.”

“What do you mean? You’re totally an Avenger! Why wouldn’t you tell me? How did I not recognize you before?” you ask, laughing in disbelief.

Bucky’s taken aback. You really thought he was an Avenger? You’re not scared of him at all, which surprises him. You must not know much about his past if you’re still standing this close.

“No wonder you don’t know ‘New York, New York,’” you say, almost to yourself. “It’s from after your time! This is crazy, I—”

You’re interrupted by his response.

“Are you not scared?”

“Of course not.”

Bucky closes in on himself, panic evident. “If you really knew me, you’d want nothing to do with me. I’ve—”

“I might not know the version of you you’re talking about, but I’ve met James, who helped me not once, but twice  carry stuff he definitely didn’t have to up the stairs, stayed for dinner, has been very polite to me, and has given me zero reasons to be scared of him.”

He looks at you, his piercing blue eyes revealing an internal struggle. That one look holds more weight than his words. You can see the battle within him, torn between his past and the present moment.

“Listen,” you say, finally letting go of the record, “if you don’t want to stay, you don’t have to. But I’m not scared of you, and I actually like your company. So, regardless of whether you’re James, Bucky, or whoever, you’re still welcome here.”

You pause, adding, “And we can still play this if you’d like.”

Bucky struggles with his inner turmoil. The idea that you know who he is but still want him around is foreign to him. He doesn’t feel worthy of the kindness you’re offering, but it’s been so long since he’s received such warmth that it’s almost impossible to turn it down.

He’s not comfortable with his identity or his past, but in this moment, he wants to push it aside. If you don’t care, maybe he can allow himself not to care, even if just for a bit. Maybe he can prove something to himself, or even his therapist.

Handing you the record, he relaxes his face slightly. You’ve always thought him handsome, but in the dim light of the dark room, he looks almost ethereal.

You’re hoping he believes you because your excitement for his company tonight feels more significant than it probably should, but you’re okay with that.

“I’m Bucky.”

You smile warmly at this change. “Alright, Bucky. What do you want to do?”

He gazes at you deeply, his look sending a shiver down your spine and warming your chest. “Play it.”

a/n: well, hope this was alright. as I mentioned before, ive never wrote fiction before, but ive definitely read enough to get the gist.

[bluewxrld07]

It’s Always Been You (Ethan Edwards)

In honor of gaining 100 of you guys on my page, here it is!! The much needed part 2 to Hurt My Feelings you’ve all been waiting for. I’ve been taking the time to perfect it, but beware this one’s a long one. Thank you all for 100 followers!!!! I appreciate every single one of you, I cannot wait to share more. Enjoy :)

Ethan Edward’s X female!reader

Warning(s): mutual pining, angst, fluff, hints to smut

If there was one thing y/n was good at, it would be known as her future career and major in school. She was in the progress of becoming a sports social media manager, always locking some of the best shots and behind the scenes when necessary.

She was the one the Michigan athletic department could count on. They had put with the Football team during the fall, and Basketball during the winter. She would sometimes end up subbing in for other sports managers when they had other opportunities in place, or just plain out couldn't do the job at hand. She was the one to call.

If there was one thing she absolutely terrible at, it would be avoiding people.

Especially certain people.

The UMich Basketball team didn't go too far into the season which led to y/n's schedule being more open to doing whatever. Which led to her slowly becoming more involved with their University's Hockey team.

When she was asked to help out with the guys more, she was a bit hesitant. Yes she loved them all and adored getting to be behind the scenes. Especially when it came down to her being there instead of one of the other interns down the road. What wasn't great to deal with, was having to see Ethan more often than she was planning on.

Many of the boys on the team know about her current situation of avoiding Ethan. This was due to the word getting around about her and him's night on New Year's, thanks to Luca spilling the beans when Ethan told him.

The boys all knew to keep their mouths shut about it, due to Ethan still being with his girlfriend, as well as y/n already stressing out about having to work alongside Ethan the rest of the season.

For now, it would be put to the side strictly on the business part of things. Yet it was hard to just act like there wasn't a giant elephant in the room when the pair were in a room together. She did her best keeping it strictly professional and positive when he was around. It seemed to slowly get easier as time went on.

That was until the intern quit, opening the spot fully to y/n to take, which she could never say no to. It was opening an opportunity for her to work in the side of the sports media field she has been waiting for, for much too long.

Especially with the boys making it to the Frozen Four.

This 'avoiding Ethan' chapter really was not going to happen for her the way she wanted anymore. Which concluded of her just never seeing him and talking to him again after he left her there that night.

She could never fathom how hurt it made her. Sitting there for hours on end waiting for his door to finally open its him behind it.

She knew deep down that it wouldn't have happened so easily like that, but part of her couldn't help but hope it would turn out for the best for her.

Y/n tried avoiding Ethan as much as she could after that. It was hard to most days, as the pair had a few classes together, and hung out in the same friend group. The guys could never have stopped hanging out with her, it just wasn't right in their book. Ethan even agreed that it wasn't right.

Of course the two were hurting, they had been inseparable for years on end. It hurt more when y/n would be at games watching from afar, or when his mom would shoot her a text or call asking where she was.

That was until she finally caved and told her everything. She couldn't hold it in from the one other woman in her life that treated her like she was her own child. Y/n told her that even though they were going through, well, whatever this was, that Ethan shouldn't be frowned upon for it.

His mom had agreed with her statement, understanding that the pair of complicated best friends had to figure some things out. They both would find their way back to each some day, is similar to something his mom had told her.

So now here she was, coming off the bus in Florida with the boys for the Frozen Four. Her hair was a mess, the outfit being oversized sweatpants, that she was pretty sure were a certain guy's old pair of pants, and an oversized UMich hockey sweatshirt.

The group gathering around the coaches to hear the spiel, y/n walking into the hotel while having a conversation with Rutger. The group all tired and about ready to take the night to relax before more early mornings continue.

Once they were all given their room keys, they all scurried to their floors and rooms, y/n happy to be getting her own room to sprawl out and do what she wanted. Due to this mainly being because she was the only female besides the adult media manager on the trip.

As soon as her door shut she slumped back against the door, leaning her head against it. Being up at two in the morning for the flight was not ideal in her mind, but she knew that this opportunity would be worth the exhaustion she was feeling.

Y/n tossed her stuff on one of the open beds, stretching out her limbs before plopping herself back on the other free bed in the room.

As soon as her body landed on the comfy mattress, a knock was heard at her door. The girl instantly groaned, turning over to the opposite side to face away from the door.

"Y/n I know you're not sleeping yet open the door," Luca laughed on the other side.

"I'm dead." she groans back to him, her eyes closed while she soaked in the cozy covers.

Luca knocked again. "Y/n/n if you don't open this door I will go tell the front desk I lost my room key for this room," he trails off, her eyes opening with an eye roll.

As much as she would like to still have ignored him and say no, she knew he would absolutely go down to the front desk.

She lets out a puff of air before pulling herself off the bed and towards the door. When she swings it open, she makes sure to give him the harshest scowl she can muster.

"What could possibly be more important than sleep?" she asks, eyeing him as he walks into her room and shuts the door.

He launches himself on the bed she was just laying on making himself comfortable, y/n going to crawl in next to him with the scowl still on her face.

He was laying on his back with his arms crossed behind his head, her laying on her side with her arms crossed in front of her chest.

"The guys and I are all going to sneak into one of the clubs tonight if you want to join," he sits up with a finger pointing up. "Correction. You are joining us in going to the club tonight."

Y/n groans instantly, pulling a pillow to her face. "Luca no I want to sleep before the day we have tomorrow." she groans out with a long whine. Luca rolls his eyes at her playfully.

"Oh come on it would be so fun. Besides, this is basically the time we all are going to get to experience this together." He explains, trailing off in a tone to convince her. She shook her head behind the pillow while humming a 'no'.

"Y/n come on please?" he asks nicely, slowly pulling the pillow down from her face. "It's just there inner circle going tonight if that convinces you."

Y/n stays silent for a moment, letting it sit in her brain for the time being.

"If it's not me dragging you out, I'm making Ethan do it."

"You didn't even give me a chance to think Luca!"

"Well I know that face. It was your 'leaning towards a no' face." he says to her, a pillow being thrown at his face a second later.

"So is that a yes?" he asks, y/n getting off the bed with her hands on her hips. She looks back at him with a look. "I don't really have a choice do I," she retorts.

"Nope!" Luca laughs, clapping his hands together before getting off her bed and heading to the door.

"I'll come get you at nine, sunshine." he sings out while opening her door.

"I'm taking a nap before that then!"

. . . . . . . . . . .

Y/n was finishing up her makeup when she heard the soft knock on her door.

She shook her head at herself while she looked in the mirror. She loved the outfit she chose, going with her hair slicked back in a bun. She was awake, but was also still so exhausted from the morning. The nap not doing much to her energy tank.

She opened the door up to see not Luca, but Rutger standing there on his phone. When he looked up he smiled warmly at her, fanning her off and hyping her up for the night ahead. She blew him a playful kiss before the pair walked downstairs to join the rest of the group, her insides freezing at the sight of Ethan once again.

Sure she should be used to seeing him nowadays, but it was never something she could just get used to. He's been the one giving her butterflies since before she could remember, and the one who makes her heart stutter whenever they're in a room together.

From what she noticed, it was the inner circle as Luca promised.

He was currently smiling and talking with Mark when she walked up to the group, his eyes leaving Mark's as soon as Rutger announced their presence.

Ethan's smile immediately dropped, his mouth staying slightly ajar as his eyes took in her figure. She kept her eyes on his own while she watched him fully take her in, the boy's cheeks turning red when he catches her eyes.

He gives her a small smile, y/n instantly looking away from him and taking a deep breath as she followed the group out to the uber ordered by Luca.

The group all began to pile in, but slowly coming to a halt when it started to become full. "Luca you dumbass how're we all gonna fit into this one uber?" Luke asks as he tries to squeeze into the back.

"Couple of you will sit on the floor, and a couple in the trunk. Not that bad of an idea." Luca snorts, taking his seat in the front passenger side.

"Okay at least give y/n the front seat so she doesn't have to squeeze back here or sit on the floor." Rutger says, motioning to where Luca is sitting.

"Yeah, my dude you gotta be a gentlemen and give her the front seat. No wonder you're single." Mark retorts, earning a smack to the thigh from Luca. Y/n rolls her eyes, an amused look on her face as she hops into the small packed van.

"It's fine, I can sit on the floor. Luca's never changed his ways. Who says he will now?" she jokes, earning a whine from Luca and laughs from the guys.

"Watch it young lady, or I'm gonna kick you out." Luca says, making her eyes light up as he eyes her.

"That's all it takes for me to go back up to my warm and cozy bed? Say less," she says, Luca rolling his eyes with a sarcastic smile thrown her way.

"You wish it were that easy." he says before facing back to the front.

Y/n lets out a huff getting ready to sit on the ground behind Luca's seat, only to have arms slither around her waist and be pulled into a lap.

She lets out a shocked squeak and places her hands on the armrest to steady herself as the car takes off, feeling the hands place themselves on her hips with a squeeze. The hands were an oddly familiar pair she had grown to know all too well.

Y/n slowly turned her head and looked down, only to see the familiar head of brown hair she had been avoiding. He wasn't making eye contact with her, instead was looking over and talking to Mark next to him.

The girl kept her hands on her thighs, squeezing them tightly to keep herself together as she sat on Ethan's lap. His hands stayed on her hips, squeezing every so often which made her freeze and her insides warm each time he did so. It had been so long since she was this close to him at all. Her body didn't know how to react, her mind screaming alarms to her in the process of it.

What about his girlfriend?

Couldn't he just let her sit on the floor?

What would his girlfriend say right now?

Once they arrived to the destination, she had never been more relieved to open the door more than she was in that very moment. She hopped off of his lap as if it didn't happen, waiting for the rest of the boys to pop out one by one.

The group made their way up to the entrance, Luca doing some talking to the bouncer while they all talked amongst themselves for the time being.

A few seconds later Luca looked back to the group with a shit-eating grin, the bouncer opening the door to let them all in. Y/n looked up at the bouncer with a soft smile, thanking them for holding the door open as she walked inside.

As soon as she stepped in, the vibe was completely different. Strobe lights being seen from the hallway they walked through, The Weeknd playing in the background and the smell of marijuana wafting through her nose. Y/n kept herself close to the boys as she looked around the venue and overlooking the balcony they were now on, seeing the pile of bodies below on the dance floor.

All the guys immediately making their way down the stairs, hyped up and talking about what their plans were for the night.

Y/n was still super tired from the flight and already thinking about how early she had to be the following morning. More like counting down the hours till her alarm went off. Which wasn't many.

Luca found a couple of sofas for them to all chill on, announcing the first round of drinks were on him. Each guy listing their drink for him, Luca finally finding Y/n's gaze. She shook her head. "Not tonight. Busy day for me tomorrow." She declines, Luca pouting at her.

"ThO come on, have a few drinks and let loose before chaos begins! Technically I win the busy day argument. I play tomorrow, so it's automatic win for me. What're you having y/n/n? Besides I'm buying pretty girl," he asks, watching her roll her eyes and shrugs her shoulders.

"Tequila and sprite." she caves, waving him away as he pumps his fist in the air at her answer.

"He's ridiculous." she laughs at Mark, the boy nodding his head with a chuckle. "Trust me I know. Try being his roommate."

"I basically was for a year, remember?"

Mark rubs his hand over his face and nods. "How could I forget the year in sophomore house?" he trails off, making her shake her head with a sour face.

"Too much went down." Y/n grimaces, Mark bursting out a laugh at her reaction.

Mark's laughs quiet down a few seconds later, him finally turning his body to face her with a more serious look on his face. "So what's the word between you and Eddy now?" he says, her stomach tightening.

"Meaning what?" she asks, looking away from Mark. He snaps his fingers back at her to make her eyes look back into his own.

"Real shit," he says. "What's going on now? You two still not talking?"

Y/n shook her head, her fingers picking at her pants. "I can't Mark. Not after New Years." she admits.

"You mean when you two finally got into it?" he asks, her nodding with an eye roll.

"We shouldn't have done that Mark. He cheated on her with me. You know how I feel about that type of stuff." she admits, watching him purse his lips.

"Sorry sweetheart but one, you kissed him from my understanding. Two, so what? She's a puck bunny anyways, y/n. She wants nothing more than the attention that comes with dating Eddy," Mark admits, and Y/n puts her face in her hands. "Well I should say came with dating Eddy. Past tense." Mark slips out, y/n's hands leaving her face to look at him with a frown.

"What do you mean past tense?" she asks. Mark looks around them to see all the other guys in their own conversations. Then turns his attention back to her.

"The only other people that know is everyone in this club in our group. So don't say anything till he's ready to tell you," Mark starts, her face contorting to more confusion as he goes.

"She broke up with him the day you two saw each other at the library. The day you were leaving with Rut's girl." he explains, watching the girl's face turn from a frown to complete shock in a matter of milliseconds.

"Wait what? There's no way, they were kissing and being all lovey-"

"It was after you left she decided to do it. She saw how he looked at you when you were leaving, and knew right then and there she had no part of him to herself anymore. So she dumped him right then and there." he finishes, watching y/n's face fall as she facepalms.

"Mark that was weeks ago! I'm now just finding this out? Why now?" she stutters out, Mark putting his hands on her arms. He makes her look up at him.

"Because he said you deserved your space, especially after he left you there in his room that night. He said that wasn't something he should just drop on you when you were feeling so many different things."

"Goddammit Ethan." she mumbles out, her eyes looking over the boy her heart wanted so much, watching him laugh with Rutger and Luke.

"You can't tell him I said anything-"

"And I'm back with drinks! Let's get this shit going!" Luca announces out, walking back with two drinks in his own hands, a server next to him with a tray of their drinks to set down.

Luca picks up Y/n's drink, bowing towards her with a smirk. "You're drink m'lady." he says with a fake accent, making her smile at him.

"Why thank you kind sir." she chuckles, taking a sip.

"Alright, now that drinks are ll sorted out, let's go dance dudes! Plenty single ladies, and plenty of dance floor!" Luca hoots, fist-bumping his way into the crowds with the some of the other guys.

She gives Mark a knowing look, indicating she understood what he was going to finishing saying. He reached down and squeezed her hand before disappearing into the crowd.

Y/n was too tired to want to join, not wanting to be there in the first place. She sipped on her drink slowly, her eyes people watching as she sat there, music bumping loudly.

She would much rather be sleeping in her bed. She'd rather be decompressing and charging up for the busy days ahead she knew were going to be horrific.

Y/n let out a huff as she looked into the dancing crowd, seeing and spotting each boy doing their own thing.

Her eyes stopped when they found Ethan's. His eyes were already on her own. Their eyes like magnets to one another. It always felt like things were going so much slower when they locked eyes. Like it was just them in the room.

Y/n bit her lip, shaking her head slightly to herself and finally broke their staring contest. She looked down to her drink, gulping down what she could to help herself feel a bit more loose than she planned.

At this point in the night, she was avoiding his eyes, knowing they were constantly being put on her. She could sense it. Sense him. It was like a sixth sense almost.

During a certain point in the night, y/n made her way over to the bar to get herself another drink.

If she was going to be stuck here, thanks to Luca, she might as well not be sober and enjoy her time while it lasted. A hangover wouldn't be the worst thing for her after the last few weeks she's been dealing with.

She gives the bartender a warm smile, yelling out a 'thank you' over the loud music and turned away from the bar to lean back against it. She took a sip of her third glass of the evening, already feeling the oh so familiar buzz coming on. She let it take over her nervous system, closing her eyes and her head tilting back while blowing out some air.

House of Balloons played out, making y/n smile to herself as she began to sway to the music.

The girl began to sing out the lyrics, knowing the song all too well as it made her feel some type of way every time she heard it. It brought out something in her each time any music like this played, her actions becoming harder to control especially when intoxicated.

Which was where she was at right now.

When she opened her eyes to look at the crowd, biting her lip as she watched many people paired together dancing the night away, grinding bodies are the only thing to be seen on the dance floor.

The lights were dark, flashes of different shades of reds straying out every so often, those flashes being the only lights in the entire place.

As if she could feel it once more, she finally found the familiar eyes that had been finding her figure all night. This time it was making her heart race.

He slowly starts to make his way to her, y/n's heart rate picking up as he got closer.

Before she knew it, he was in front of her standing over her figure.

He reached his hands out to her as if asking her to join him, the girl's eye not leaving his own.

So instead of walking away like she wanted to, after all this time she spent avoiding him.

She gave in.

Y/n sat up straight, her empty glass long forgotten now on the table behind her. She had to still look up at him due to their height difference, but nonetheless had let her hands slide into his own.

He slowly backed his way into the crowd of dancing people, the music setting the vibe and pace for the pair on the floor.

They found a spot away from the other boys, secluded in the crowd surrounded but hundreds of strangers but only entranced in one another. Their eyes never left one another, no matter if they tripped of bumped into other people.

His forehead found her own, his hands still entwined with her own to show he wouldn't push unless she gave him the green light. He wanted to show her he would move at her own pace.

To Y/n, for the first time in weeks, wasn't scared of what would happen or what wouldn't happen. Ethan was taking the lead to show her he was still in it, but at the same time was taking it slow to not push her further.

He closed his eyes as the song played in the background, his mouth starting to sing along to the words.

Face it, you want it, you crave it

Believe when I say that you'll know once you taste it

Y/n watched his lips move, her heart pounding out of her chest as they had their moment. Like they were the only two existing in that room.

She was letting the alcohol take over her nerves, letting it do what she knew she wouldn't be able to do completely sober.

Y/n slipped her hands from Ethan's only to place them over the top of his hands to lead them onto her waist, hers going to slowly slither around his neck.

Ethan opened his eyes to look down into hers, his hands sliding down from her waist, wrapping low around her hips just above where her lower back met her backside.

Y/n took the opportunity to let her hands cup both sides of his jawline, looking up into his eyes then down to his mouth as she sang along to the song this time.

What the hell were we? Tell me we weren't just friends

This doesn't make much sense, but I'm not hurt I'm tense

Cause I'll be fine without you babe

Her eyes found his again, the two wrapped up in one another's company, tension building more by the minute. Y/n bit her bottom lip once again, trying to stop her thoughts from getting bigger and bigger as they sway with one another.

She snapped out of her daze when she felt his thumb slowly pulling her bottom lip free from her teeth, rubbing it slowly after. His eyes went down to her lips as he leaned in, but stopping just millimeters away to let their lips brush ever so slightly.

"Please," he says, his voice weak. Just wanting to finally have her to himself. "It's always been you, y/n. Always."

He put both of his hands on the crook of her neck where it met her jawline, her hands wrapping softly around his wrists. He could see her having an argument with herself, the boy saying her name to catch her attention. "I know I've been a fucking idiot and an asshole to you. You don't deserve any of it. Slap me, punch me, kick me in the nuts I don't care what. Just please don't push me away anymore." Her eyes lock with his once again.

"I won't hurt you," he assures her, shaking his head. "Not again. Not ever. Just please. Let me prove to you. Let me prove it's always been you." he begs her.

Y/n stills for a moment, knowing that she wants this just as bad as he does. Probably even more than he ever would.

"Eddy,"

"Yeah?"

"Kiss me. Please kiss me."

Ethan didn't even let her finish her sentence, immediately placing his lips over hers in a bruising kiss. Tongues and teeth clashing when they connected, immediately y/n sighs into his mouth. Her body calming instantly at the feelings of his lips on her once again after far too long.

It didn't take long for his hands to leave the sides of her face, wrap around her waist and pull her impossibly closer to his own body. Her hands finding the back of his neck, letting her elbows rest on his shoulders while her hands pulled at his hair.

Their lips moving in sync, things becoming more heated the more they kissed.

His lips finally broke from hers only to kiss down her jaw to her neck and collarbone, y/n moving her head to the side for him to gain more access as her hands pushed his head further into her. She was becoming more and more enticed by the feelings of his lips and touch on her, it was like a drug she couldn't escape.

When his lips latched on the all too familiar sweet spot she let out a breathless moan, feeling him chuckle in her neck. He broke his kisses for a second, only to bring his lips to her ear to whisper something.

"Only I will get to ever make you make those sounds. Not Luke, not anybody," he pants into her ear before leaving a soft kiss on it, going back to attacking her soft spot as she bit her lip to hide a smile.

"Still on that whole ordeal are you?" she chuckles but it's turned into another moan when his teeth bite on her neck, his hands moving down to her ass and squeezing at the same time.

"Don't get yourself into more trouble, brat." he tells her, his tone darker than usual. She just nods, taking his head away from her neck to bring his lips back to her own. "As long as you promise to never hurt me again, I think I can manage."

He smiles against her lips, placing a hand on her neck. "I've got lots of making up to do, don't you think pretty?" he mumbles in between kisses, hearing her hum with a nod.

"Let's get out of here shall we?" he says, placing one more kiss to her lips before looking down at her. Ethan had to bite his lip from going back in, seeing the marks littered on her neck and her swollen lips making his pants tighter.

He just about loses it right there when she bites her lip and pulls him closer by his waistband.

"Lead the way, baby."

[padfootagain]

Love in Verses (I)

Chapter 1 : ‘And that orange, it made me so happy, as ordinary things often do just lately’

Hi, everyone!!! I’m so glad to finally start posting this series! I know I’ve been talking about it for a while, and I thank all of you for being interested and even excited about it! I hope you won’t be disappointed!

The first chapters will set the plot into motion, of course, we need to get the story going!

I hope you like this series! Tell me what you think!

****

Pairing: Hozier x fem!reader (professor!AU)

Warnings: slow burn, angst, hurt, hurt/comfort, tooth-rotting fluff in later chapters, some scenes in later chapters will have heavy sexual themes even if it’s not explicit nsfw description, so minors here

Summary: Your life seems perfect. You're engaged, your career is thriving as you become an assistant professor at Trinity College, and this Andrew Hozier-Byrne you're sharing an office with seems to be a nice guy you hope to call a friend soon. Life seems to be smiling at you... until everything goes sour. When your fiancé breaks up with you, your perfect world shatters. And when your colleague also gets his heart broken soon after, your shared office seems to be a curse rather than a blessing. But Andrew seems determined to mend your broken hearts... Will things finally go according to plan?

Word Count: 3502

Masterlist for the series – Hozier’s masterlist – Main masterlist

The Orange

At lunchtime I bought a huge orange— The size of it made us all laugh. I peeled it and shared it with Robert and Dave— They got quarters and I had a half.

And that orange, it made me so happy, As ordinary things often do Just lately. The shopping. A walk in the park. This is peace and contentment. It’s new.

The rest of the day was quite easy. I did all the jobs on my list And enjoyed them and had some time over. I love you. I’m glad I exist.

Wendy Cope, The Orange and Other Poems, 2023

There was sunshine upon the Liffey that morning. A scent of new beginnings in the air, a whisk of excitement in the breeze.

You took a deep breath before entering the college grounds. This was what you had worked so hard for, for so long…

You were finally working in a university, you were a researcher, you would be teaching to younger generations about your passion. And every time you thought about that truth, that new reality, your heart made a happy jump, and a grin formed on your lips.

You were there. At long last. You had a teaching position, you had money for your research, and you had this at Trinity College, no less.

For now, there were no students, the grounds were empty, filled with nothing but old stones, bending trees and sunlight. The year had not begun yet, it was still the early days of August, filled with warm weather, summer storms and a tinge of sun here and there. It seemed that your first day was one of those sunny, warm days that felt too much like vacation time to work. A good omen, if you had ever seen one. A good omen for your life that seemed to fall perfectly into place these days. Professionally, you were achieving your goal today, with this position in the best university in Ireland. Your family was proud, and so were you. And on a personal point of view, you were engaged, to be married to a successful man. You glimpsed at the diamond on your finger. You didn’t have a date for the wedding yet, but you were aiming for spring of the coming year. Frank had proposed during the summer, while you were on a trip for your vacation in Wales. You smiled at the memory. You were lucky this year, your life was perfect, or at least, successful. You were ticking all the right boxes. What else could you ask for?

You walked between the still frames of Edmund Burke and Oliver Goldsmith, stepping finally on the grounds of Trinity College. And you took a deep breath as you stepped into the entrance hall, crossing the building to reach the first courtyard hidden inside. You gathered your thoughts, tried to slow down your beating heart that was pounding with nerves and excitement.

You were to meet one of the fellows of your department, Professor O’Connell. You had never met the woman, but she seemed kind enough on the phone, if strict in her tone. You checked your watch, but you were still seven minutes early. At least, you would not make a bad first impression because you were late…

You hurried under the archway at the centre of the yard, glancing at the forbidden green grass on both sides, and the tall buildings that surrounded it. You tried to calm yourself, thinking that you were an assistant professor already, even if this was your first stable job, that you knew what you were doing, that the papers you had already published were proof of your academic success and your worth as a researcher. You could do this. You could do this…

You walked towards the English department with hesitant steps, trying to follow directions on the various signs scattered across the grounds. A fifty-something woman waved at you from afar though, she seemed to be waiting in front of a building. You smiled, hurried towards her, hoping that you were not mistaken and that she was, indeed, the woman you were looking for…

“Y/N Y/L/N?” she asked, and you nodded your head with a grin.

“Yes! Professor O’Connell, I assume?” you answered, offering her your open hand, which she took with a smile.

“Oh, Lydia is more than enough. How are you?”

“Grand… grand…”

“Welcome to Trinity, I guess. I’ll guide you for a quick visit of our building, and then leave you in the competent hands of our HR department for you to sign off some paperwork. Come on, I’ll show you around.”

She guided you across the large stone building in which you would be working from now on. You easily got lost in the maze of corridors, staircases and halls you were crossing. Still, she showed you the cafeteria in which you were introduced to a few of your new colleagues, some of the classrooms, and finally she guided you to the HR, where a middle-aged woman gave you some paperwork to sign.

Lydia was waiting outside, ready to guide you to your office. A new maze of corridors opened before your feet, but you said nothing, figured that you would eventually get used to it. You took a turn to the right to another corridor, headed straight for the door a few steps ahead. Wooden, with two plaques fixed on its surface.

Dr. Andrew Hozier-Byrne

Dr. Y/N Y/LN

Your heart skipped a few beats at the sight of your name there, engraved in copper.

“You’ll be sharing your office with another of our assistant professors,” Lydia explained. “Andrew arrived last year, he’s working mostly on 20th century literature… but I’ll let him talk your ears off about his research.”

She knocked, didn’t wait for a response before opening the door.

The office was tiny, to say the least, but it was enough for the two desks and chairs set there, a wardrobe and a few shelves. There was a poster of Johnny Cash on one of the empty spots on the white walls, and a large window facing the door, behind one of the desks. The other desk was set on the left-side of the room, a tinier window behind it.

A man was sitting in the chair behind the desk in front of the larger window, and he looked up as the door opened and Lydia walked in, you following close behind.

“Good morning, Andrew,” Lydia greeted her colleague with a smile. “This is Y/N, our new assistant professor, who’s going to share your office this year.”

Andrew’s eyebrows arched slightly, although he still gave you a warm but shy smile, standing in a hurry. You couldn’t help your surprise as he stood up, towering you with an intimidating height. He seemed to have long hair, that he had tied in a bun. You studied his features, something kind and gentle made his hazel eyes shine, a short beard coloured his cheeks. He readjusted his glasses, as he quickly stepped around his desk. He was wearing a black turtleneck and dark jeans, there was a brown jacket thrown on the back of his chair.

You looked up at him as his smile widened just a little, still polite but with an extra-touch of kindness now. His body was intimidating though, and the fact that he was handsome wasn’t helping. He bent to avoid the lamp that was hanging from the ceiling.

“Of course! Erm… hi, nice to meet you,” he greeted you, offering you his open palm, avoiding eye-contact. You weren’t expecting how soft his voice was, how quiet his tone sounded. If his height gave something intimidating to his appearance, his voice countered that feeling, and you immediately felt more at ease.

“Hi! It’s very nice to meet you too, Andrew!”

“Alright, I’ll leave you to settle,” said Lydia, addressing you. “My office is down the corridor, if you need anything. But I’m sure Andrew can help you with the rest. The HR gave you everything you needed to access a computer?”

“Yes, I’ve got everything.”

“Good. Settle this morning, we’ll have a talk about your research this afternoon. The meeting for the upcoming year and classes is set later this week, you’ll get all the information you need for your teaching then.”

“Alright, thank you so much.”

She gave you a bright smile, before walking out of the room.

You were left alone with Andrew, who gave you another shy smile, rubbing at his palms.

“Erm… right… obviously, there is a large selection of desks you can choose from in this room,” he joked, his tone still stern, and you noticed how he was biting the inside of his cheek.

But you laughed good-heartedly at his joke, and he raised his eyebrows at your reaction.

“Hmm… I guess I’ll take this beauty over there,” you said, dropping your bag on your desk.

“Good choice,” he nodded, fleeing your gaze again. “Erm… I’ve emptied a couple of shelves over there for you too, and made some room in the wardrobe as well.”

“Thank you,” you smiled up at him and caught his eyes again, noticed their pretty hazel shade.

You turned on your computer, looked through your papers for the password that had been given to you so you could log in.

“So… what’s your research about?” he asked, a little awkward, shifting his weight while burying his hands in his pockets.

You noticed how he was bending his head and shoulders a little, as if to look smaller than he was.

“I work on feminism and the use of the female gaze in literature, as opposed to the male gaze.”

He raised an eyebrow, and you noticed how his gaze lit up with interest.

“Oh… that’s so interesting!”

You were surprised by the earnestness in his tone. The academic world was a particularly misogynistic one, after all. Most men in your field were enemies rather than allies.

“Yeah… I… I think so too,” you smiled, cursing yourself for your naïve answer. “I mean… If I chose to work on that, it means that I’m interested in it, but…”

He chuckled, the sound as quiet as his voice. You were still surprised by it, by the contrast it offered to his intimidating stature.

“Totally, yeah…”

“What about you?”

“20th century literature… mostly modernism and contemporary poetry. So… Lots of Joyce, Woolfe, Heaney and the likes.”

“Nice! That sounds interesting.”

“I mean… I teach a lot about modernism, but my research is more focused on poetry, especially poets who are currently writing.”

“That’s pretty rare, to have scholars studying contemporary art, instead of… dead people.”

You both chuckled at that.

“Yeah… but I… I mean… I value a lot the political weight of art, so… I find it more interesting to study something that talks about our current problems, rather than the problems from… four centuries ago or something...”

“Can’t argue with that,” you nodded.

You exchanged a smile, noticed that Andrew was relaxing as well by now.

“Erm… I’ll let you settle down, but… tell me if you need anything. Oh, and…”

Andrew nodded towards an empty frame tugged away against the wall, in a corner of the room.

“There’s an empty spot on the wall, feel free to hang something you like in it. As long as it’s decent enough.”

“Oh… I will refrain from a poster of my naked celebrity crush then,” you joked, making Andrew laugh again.

“Please, refrain. Although, I will accept your latest pagan ritual to summon Chtulhu or something…”

He tensed again, bit the inside of his cheek, as if he regretted his joke, but you laughed, and he seemed a little surprised by it.

“Dully noted… so, I can bring my pentagrams at work?”

His smile widened.

“Feel free to do so. I can produce the goat for the sacrificial ritual, if you need.”

You chuckled again, and Andrew bent his head, but you noticed the way his shoulders relaxed.

“Right, sorry for the weird humour,” he apologised anyway, and walked back to his desk. “Tell me if you need help with anything. I have a couple of things to take care of, but I can show you around if you need.”

“Okay, thank you! Yeah, that would be grand! And no need to apologise, I have a rather dark humour too.”

You exchanged a smile, before both of you would focus on your computers. You managed to log into almost everything, started to create documents and files for your research, downloaded a few articles that you needed to read this week.

It was almost noon when Andrew looked up from his screen again.

“Erm… is everything alright for you?” asked Andrew, his voice still as quiet.

“Yeah… erm… I just can’t log into something.”

Andrew stood up, bent to avoid the lamp again.

“Can I take a look?” he asked softly, and he walked around your desk when you nodded.

He helped you log into the software you needed, showed you a couple of things that you would need to use often.

“Would you like to get lunch?” he asked you with a timid smile.

You answered with a bright smile.

“Yeah, sure!”

“Did you bring some food?”

“Erm… no…”

“That’s fine, no worries,” he chuckled at your sudden hesitation. “We have a cafeteria in our building, for the staff. But it’s more suited for a coffee break than anything else. You can’t buy food there, except for a few snacks from a vending machine. There’s an electric kettle, a coffee machine… there’s a microwave and fridge too, if you… like… want to bring your own food. But nothing to make proper food. We can go to the cafeteria on the campus, though.”

“Okay, that would be nice! Are you waiting for anyone else for lunch?”

But Andrew shook his head.

“Most people in the department are gone to a conference in Cork for three days,” he explained.

“How come you didn’t go?”

But Andrew merely shrugged.

“I wasn’t invited to be a speaker, and to be honest, it was mostly about subjects I’m not particularly interested in. Besides, someone had to stay behind to keep the new lecturer company,” he smiled with a tinge of mischief, and you liked the sight.

He waited for you to gather your things, and you walked together out of the building. Andrew showed you around the campus a little bit, mainly the library and a couple of buildings where you could be asked to teach. You followed him to the cafeteria as well.

“Do you eat here often?” you asked, as you took a look at the food that was available that day.

“When I can. It’s not bad. But students come here too, so you should come only if you can avoid the worst of the crowd. As this year hasn’t started yet, we’re in the clear for a few more weeks.”

You ordered a sandwich, while Andrew bought a salad, and you walked together to one of the many empty tables.

“Lydia told me it was your first job as a professor?” asked Andrew, before sipping on a glass of water.

“Yeah. I mean, I’ve obviously been teaching and working in research for a while, but it’s my first year since I got that title,” you answered with a smile.

“Have you talked about your classes with Lydia yet?”

“No, not too much. I should be able to create a couple of lectures based on my research, but for the more… general stuff, nothing.”

Andrew nodded.

“Yeah, you might inherit some of the classes no one really wants to do, as you’re the newbie.”

“Did it happen that way for you?”

Andrew nodded again, but shrugged right after, swallowing a mouthful of salad.

“I mean, you’ll stay in something you’re used to, don’t worry. But a lot of people are holding the classes they enjoy teaching. You’ll have a limited choice in your field.”

“Any class that you’re hoping to drop?”

“One of them is bound to religion and religious references. I should be able to pass it to someone else this year. We’re exchanging. I’ll get a class on Yeats instead, which is much more in my area of expertise… and interests.”

“Not a religious guy, are you?”

He chuckled.

“Not really, no.”

He didn’t elaborate on the subject, and you didn’t want to push him, happy enough that your colleague and office-roommate was talking to you and acting with benevolence.

“Where did you teach before Trinity?” you asked instead, changing subject.

“Cork for a while, but my partner works in Dublin so I really wanted to move back on the west coast. And then I had the opportunity to come to Trinity last year, when I got the rank of assistant professor, so I didn’t really hesitate. What about you?”

“I taught for a while in Belfast, and they offered me a job when I became assistant professor. But I really wanted to teach at Trinity, so I applied and… got the job! My fiancé is working about halfway between Belfast and Dublin anyway, so it didn’t change much on his side.”

Andrew nodded.

“Relationships can be tricky with academic jobs, especially with how few the teaching positions can be.”

“Yeah, that’s for sure.”

You had gotten a yoghurt for dessert, and Andrew some dry fruits. He handed you the packet, a questioning rise of his eyebrow as a silent enquiry. You smiled, opened your hand and he poured some fruits in your palm.

“Anyway, I hope you’ll get interesting classes, and especially that you can teach about your research. Aside from being interesting for you, I think it’s important to develop what you’re working on in our field.”

You smiled, and he seemed to notice, giving you an awkward smile of his own in exchange.

“Thanks. I think so too.”

“But I have a more important question to tackle.”

You raised a questioning eyebrow, inviting him to go on.

“What poster are you going to put in that empty frame?”

You couldn’t refrain a laugh.

“I have no idea,” you admitted.

“Well, think about it. The decoration of our office is at stake, that’s serious business.”

“Of course, of course. Definitely my number one priority.”

“Good, it should be. My Qi is very sensitive to that kind of stuff.”

You both laughed, and you felt yourself relax again.

You had a good feeling about Andrew, about your shared office, about your new job, about this whole life that was ahead of you.

The world was smiling to you, even the weather was on your side. What could possibly go wrong?

You were so excited to go home and tell everything to your fiancé. Frank got home before you did, you lingered a little longer than anticipated because you asked Andrew questions about how the university worked, the power dynamic in the department, the people you should avoid and those who were nice to talk to. And you wanted to tell Frank about Andrew too. You were so relieved that the colleague sharing your office was nice, kind even.

When you stepped inside, Frank was watching TV. He had ordered some takeaway, and was eating in front of a stupid show that was on, more focused on his phone than on the tv anyway. He jumped when you entered, put his phone away in a hurry.

“Hey, babe!” you greeted him with a grin, bending to kiss him as he sat on the couch.

“Hi! I ordered food for tonight,” he said, nodding towards the Indian food that was scattered across the coffee table.

“Nice!”

“You’re home late.”

You grinned, nodding your head.

“It went amazing!” you jumped up and down excitedly. “First, a senior professor, Lydia, came to pick me up and showed me around. She seems very strict, but nice as well. Apparently, as long as you do your job well, she’ll be on your side. I went to the HR to sign some papers, and…”

You noticed that Frank wasn’t paying too much attention anymore, so you rushed your explanation.

“Anyway, I’ve met a few colleagues, and especially Andrew! We’re sharing an office. He’s been of great help throughout the day, and he’s very sweet! Which is surprising given that he is quite literally a giant!”

“You’re sharing your office?”

“Yes!”

“With a guy?”

“Yes. His name is Andrew! He’s been teaching at Trinity for a year.”

You noticed the way Frank refrained from making a comment, knowing you would call him out for being jealous. You refrained a sigh.

“He lives near Dublin with his partner too. He’s specialised in poetry.”

Frank seemed to relax, and you struggled not to be annoyed by his reaction.

“It’s grand that your first day went fine, babe,” Frank gave you an earnest smile.

“I’m just so relieved that the guy sharing an office with me is not some… misogynistic gobshite. I mean, I don’t know Andrew very much, but he seemed to be more on the feminist side of the spectrum, so I’m sure we’ll be able to get along.”

“That’s nice.”

He didn’t ask any further question but he was still looking at you. You sat down next to him, and he handed you some food he had ordered for you. It wasn’t your favourite, but you liked it.

He opened his arm for you to settle against his shoulder, and you happily obliged. You thought about all the details you wanted to say, but knew would bore him. You chose another question instead.

“What are you watching?”

[mara-and-its-the-same]

let’s understand that this is Mara immediately post breakup so this means i get to have it as wild as i want it to be...but anyway, all i’ve been thinking about is rebounding with Danny, duh. Beyond suggestive, it's directly implied, 2k words and a big thank you to @frnchgirls, rose is a most gracious help. Enjoy 🥰

“What about like this?”

If anyone asked Danny the series of events that led him here, there would be no sane answer. Friday night he meets you at the Vandals’ bar, Saturday night he learns that you live in Chicago but were dating another Vandal in a different chapter and just suffered a messy break up, and by Sunday afternoon he’s got you posing on his bed with the brand new knowledge that before you got into that relationship you were a lingerie model until that guy made you quit. 

“Danny?” You ask him again, leaning on your elbows and one knee slightly bent to the side over the other.

He shakes himself out of his daydreaming to realize that reality is ten times better and hopes you don’t notice his dazed off gaze from your side of the camera. “Yeah?”

“Is this a good pose?” 

Kathy told you that you should get back into modeling, then offered Danny to help you practice, maybe get new photos to show some agents.  Neither of you were busy this weekend, so now here you are in a brand new soft blue babydoll negligee that she made you buy the minute she heard about the split, on Danny’s bed. 

God, how he washed those sheets and cleaned all over his apartment as soon as you asked if you could do it at his place. It hasn’t been so neat since he toured the place. But now there you are wanting him to tell you if you look good in your lingerie on his bed. But photography is his job, he’s a professional, he can do this.

He could do this, if his tongue wasn’t suddenly tied until he swallowed thickly. “Yeah, maybe you just lean back a little more?”

“Like this?”

“Perfect.” He captures the picture and tries some more from a few different angles. “What about laying down?”

“Mhm,” you move a bit further down the bed and let your hair fall around you as best it could on its own. “Here?”

“Yeah, can I move your hair?”

“Yeah,” he rearranges your strands so they frame your face perfectly and look as effortless as possible.

“Gorgeous.” The shudder clicks right as he said it, so fast that he hits it a second time just to catch your smile when he says it.

“Really?” He catches the moment your face changes from eyes closed and sultry, to open and joyous.

“Beautiful.”

“Me? Or just your pictures? 

“You, and the pictures of you.”

“Thank you,” you roll over again and he gets one from another angle. 

It was never anything crazy, the sets you modeled. Just some odd jobs for more local boutiques, never anything obscene or ridiculously lavish. Danny refuses to believe that though. You make plastic rhinestones shine like diamonds. Machine spun cotton lace looks like hand threaded silk from Paris the second it touches your skin. 

“Do you think we got enough of this one?” you ask.

“I think so. I can get these developed and have them ready in a few days,” he starts packing his camera away. “What size did you say you wanted?”

“Oh I don’t know, but— Well actually I brought one more thing to try on. Unless you want to be done?”

He’s not sure how much more of this he can really take. How much longer can he be in the same room as you before he busts just from looking at you. 

“Yeah, sure- I’ll be in the kitchen.”

He tries not to stare as you slide of the bed and start looking through the bag you brought on his way out the door. 

3 minutes later your head is poked out of the door and into the kitchen, “Danny, you can come in now.”

Oh what a sight you are. The black nightgown reaches down all the way to your ankles, the silky fabric falls over your hips so perfectly, and the only thing between the air and your chest is a thin layer of the finest lace he’s ever seen. “I haven’t worn this in years.”

“That’s a shame.” He can’t believe he’s said that, especially in the tone he did, like he couldn’t believe you wouldn’t even wear it just by yourself. You must know how you look in it, how it looks tailored to your body in every square inch. 

“I know. But he didn’t like it. It’s vintage Chantelle, all silk. Didn’t know how to appreciate it properly.” You sit back on the bed again and just then he notices the slit up one side that just about nears the top of your thigh. 

You’re about to take a new pose when he asks you a most peculiar question. 

“I’m sorry?” You ask.

“Do you mind if I move you?” He says with more confidence this time and what a gift that he did.

“Sure.”

He sets the camera down on his dresser and comes towards you. With his hands on your shoulders— your nearly bare shoulders, his thumbs fitting perfectly just into the dips of your clavicles —he leads you to lay down against the pillows and rearranges your hair. He takes one of your hands and places it beside your head, the other he moves across your torso with your hand cusping your hip bone. He steps back a bit to consider your legs, with respect to the slit. After slowly, so slowly coasting down the length of your leg, he softly pulls one ankle down straight, and pushes the other slitted one up so that it is slightly bent at the knee and tilts it towards the other. 

He takes a second to look at you, really look at you, and he can’t believe anyone would ever try to keep you from this. 

Maybe he’s just getting to know your form, for the sake of the composition, you think. But only for a moment before you see him suck his bottom lip between his teeth, just for a second but you notice. 

Finally, finally, he takes the first picture of you like this. With the click of the shutter you’ve made your mind up, you decide to press your luck. “What if I like…” you bring the hand that was on your hip up to your mouth and bite the top knuckle of your index finger.

“Yes.”

“What’s the look you’re thinking though?”

“They’re your pictures. I’m thinking whatever you want me to think.”

“But you’re the photographer, the artist.”

“You’re the art.”

“Would you kiss me?”

He nearly drops the camera. “What?”

“They like when pictures tell stories, the story would be that I’m messy and ravished and the clothes are serving their intended purpose. If you’re alright with that?”

He so absolutely, most certainly, positively is more than just alright with that. “Yeah, ok.”

You push yourself back up on the bed while he positions himself at the edge. “So how do you wa—“ he’s cut off by your pull to his collar and the press of your lips. Surpassing his initial surprise he brings a hand up around you to hold your waist, and the other up to your jaw. Messy, you want it messy. And salacious, lascivious even. Beyond suggestive, obvious is what you need. He can tell from the way you continue to pull him into you even as his chest is flush against yours. 

You pull away panting for no more than a second to order “Get the camera off the bed.” How sweet of you to be concerned, he nearly leaps over you to put it on the nightstand and he’d like to say ‘if it were any less expensive’ he would have just thrown it, but he knows that the price of it wasn’t what stopped him, it was the fear of damaging even a single one of those pictures of you. 

As he’s leaning over you, you slide down a little further on the bed so he can reach you easier. Or maybe to muss your hair up a little more if it’s against the pillows, or any other excuse you could make to make it seem like this is all for the picture and not your own desires. 

From there it is licks, bites, tugs, sucks of lips. And you’re trying, you’re both trying to keep your hands out of it, but how could you when his hair is so soft and the back of his neck is the perfect shape for you to hold. And how could he when your skin is so perfect and your bare leg is right there.

“I want a hickey.”

“Huh?”

“Kiss my neck.” He kisses you twice more on his way to your throat and you can’t help the sound you make when he reaches the perfect spot. Already he has you gasping for air. “Oh god.” His hand slithers up the slit, sliding even higher in search of your hip bone or waist to hold. 

“Wait,” He lifts himself to be eye level with you, “wait—“

“Hm?”

“Sorry, just…You’re—This is real now, right?”

“Yes, yes, very real.” You rush to pull him back down to your lips and nearly crash noses with the way he rushes down to meet you. 

“Mmph,” he groans at the scratch of your nails across his scalp and just the sound makes your back arch. Moving down again, he passes soft kisses down the valley of your chest. You’re positive he can feel the beat of your heart through every inch of your skin. How you’ve missed this, being wanted, being adored. And how he’s missed crossing beyond the other side of the lens, the feel of sculpting another body just by the skill of his touch. 

As he’s pushing the side of your skirt up and away a sudden fear strikes you, “Wait!”

“What is it?” He immediately sits back and takes his hands away, looking into your eyes for any cause for concern.

“I’m so sorry, but I really don’t want to rip it.”

“Oh,” you see him immediately relax, “So…”

You make no answer, though you do sit up to your knees and move the skirt out from underneath you. With a gesture to the strap that has fallen off your shoulder, he finally gets the message. However, in the spirit of fairness, his own shirt is the first thing to go and before you have time to remember your original intent you both rise on your knees just to kiss again. You feel before you look while your hands roam his torso. 

And slowly, so slowly, through wandering presses, pulls, and squeezes, he reaches the sides of your thighs and takes your nightgown by the seams to lift it over your head. He takes it by the straps to hang by the corner of the headboard rather than tossing it to the floor. 

You guide him forwards as you move to your back again, his knee moves between your legs while his fingertips smooth along your jaw. His eyes dance around your face, and as embarrassed as he may be to admit it, he takes a fleeting glance down the space between your bodies. An idea flashes before him, a bold one, but at this point in the afternoon he’s not sure there’s much left that could happen between you two that’d be too bold. He reaches for the camera slowly enough that you knew exactly what he wants. You resist the instinct to shy away when you still see his soft gaze over the camera. The shudder clicks and he drops it back on the nightstand, “That one’s not making it into the book,” Danny smirks at his own teasing before leaning back into you to finish what he started with a smile still on his lips. 

[mydadleft471]

For The Love Of A Daughter: Chapter 2

Summary: After waking up from what you were sure was a dream, you receive an invitation from your Lord and host.

Spoilers for Elden Ring and SOTE (got tired of writing out the full name lmao). No warnings, just a soft morning and Sianet being the best.

It seemed like people really liked my first chapter, so boom, have another! Have some Sianet backstory! (Bonus points if you look up the meaning of her name). Have my clueless ass trying to describe clothing! Have some good feels! God I love this man. Next chapter breakfast date with snakes??? I think so!

As always, thank you for reading, liking, commenting, and reblogging! It means so much to me. I hope you enjoy!

When you woke up this morning, you were terrified to open your eyes and find that yesterday’s events were a pleasant dream. But your fears were put to rest once you realized it wasn’t a figment of your sleeping imagination. Jasmine was still next to you, her small body tucked into yours. Her face is peaceful. Smiling, you carefully shift your way out of bed so you don’t wake her by accident.

The marble floor is cold on your bare feet and it helps you wake up. You hadn’t noticed last night, but you had a balcony. Opening the beautiful glass door, you’re greeted by the sweet morning sunshine and fresh air. You look over the landscape before you, and it’s only now you realize its quiet beauty. The grass, tinted a delicate gold, sways in the breeze. Below, you can see a few animals grazing and some of Messmer’s soldiers patrolling. Even a place such as this can hold some semblance of serenity.

Your thoughts are torn towards the sound of your door opening. You pull your robe around you tighter and smile when you realize your visitor is Sianet.

“Good morning. I trust you slept well?” Her pleasant, motherly voice echoes around the room. Her hair is tied up today.

“I did, thank you. Jasmine’s still asleep.” You gesture towards the small bump in the sheets.

“Poor thing, she must have been exhausted.” You notice her eyes are a pale blue, almost white. They’re beautiful.

She has clothing draped over her arm and a small bag slung over her back, and when your gaze shifts to it, she smiles. She moves to the gold wardrobe to the left of your bed with light steps. You follow her.

“Lord Messmer had our seamstress make new clothing for you and Jasmine. Right now, you only have a few options, but in a few days, you should have a full wardrobe to choose from.” She carefully lays out your clothing on the large vanity table, a few elegant tunics with delicate embroidery, and a couple pairs of pants with gold stitching. She opens her bag and reveals a pair of leather boots for you and some sandals for Jasmine.

You hear a loud yawn behind you and you turn to see Jasmine stretching and slowly making her way out of bed. Once she notices that you and Sianet are awake, she toddles her way over to you both.

“Good morning, Jasmine.” You reach down to smooth out her horrible bedhead. 

“Hi. What are you guys doing?” She yawns again.

“I brought some clothes for you, little one. Would you like to see?” Sianet gestures to the remaining clothes on her arm.

Jasmine’s eyes light up and she bounces excitedly. She is no longer tired at the mention of gifts, it seems. “Please! I wanna see!”

Sianet laughs and begins to lay out the little dresses. All of them are beautiful and they all vary in color. Some are somber greens and reds, but there are a few colored lilac and cerulean. The seamstress did a wonderful job. Jasmine carefully touches each and every one, awe evident in her eyes. 

“These are all for me?” She speaks like she can barely believe her eyes.

“Yes, and you may wear whichever one you’d like.” Sianet lays a gentle hand on her back.

“Can I wear the purple one? I like purple.”

“You may. Let’s get you dressed up.” She smiles and looks back at you. She grabs a small envelope from her bag and hands it to you with a golden letter opener. There is a red wax seal on it with Messmer’s insignia.

“This is from Lord Messmer?”

“Yes,” she answers. “He instructed me to give it to you.”

“Thank you.” Sianet nods in response and begins to help Jasmine get dressed.

You walk back to the bed and sit, delicately dragging the letter opener across the top. With shaky hands, you unfold his letter and read his loopy writing.

Good morning. I hope thou hast found thy bed comfortable and sufficient for plentiful rest. I am writing to request thine presence at breakfast. Jasmine is welcome if it pleases thee. If thou art overwhelmed by my request, I shall not be offended if thou wisheth to spend this day in isolation. Give thine answer to Sianet, and she shall see to it that whatever thy choice, thee and thine child shall eat.

Lord Messmer

He was writing to invite you to breakfast? Your heart raced and you found yourself nervous. He is a Lord, and he wants to have breakfast with you and Jasmine? You’re not worried for your safety, he’s proven that he doesn’t want to hurt you or her, but you’re afraid that you will offend him. You have no clue on proper eating etiquette outside of the basic don’t chew with your mouth full. 

Jasmine bounds up to you, flaunting her new dress. The delicate lilac compliments her green eyes, and you smile. She looks so happy.

“What do you think?” She spins around so you can see the entire dress.

“You look like a princess, sweetie.” She beams at your praise and dances around the room, her skirt swishing and swaying with every movement.

Sianet approaches you, laughing at Jasmine. “What would you like to wear today?”

“I’m not sure, honestly. Lord Messmer asked if we’d like to join him for breakfast, but I’m not royalty. I don’t know proper etiquette and I’m terrified I’ll offend him.”

“Lord Messmer never requests anyone’s presence for breakfast. You would be a special exception, therefore I don’t think he’d be offended if you went.”

“I’m not worried about going. He’s very polite and he’s given us so much already. I’m worried I’ll do something or say something wrong.”

Sianet sits down beside you on the bed and grabs your hands in hers. She smiles softly at you. “I cannot make this decision for you, but I have known Lord Messmer for a very long time, and he is not like his enemies describe him. He is sweet and considerate, though you’ve seen this already. I ask you trust yourself and not give into these anxious thoughts.”

She had a point. Maybe you were just allowing yourself to spiral.

“How long have you known him?” You ask.

“Goodness, I’m not sure anymore. I was his nanny when he was around Jasmine’s age.”

Your brows almost launch off your face in shock. She looks good for her age.

“You took care of him when he was little?”

“Oh, yes. Marika-” she stops herself, huffing. “Queen Marika wasn’t around much during his childhood. She had responsibilities that took priority over her son, I suppose.” She trails off. You can almost taste her disgust in the air and the scowl on her lovely face looks unnatural for someone so sweet.

“What was he like as a child?” 

Her smile returns immediately. She squeezes your hands. “He was well-behaved, most of the time. He loved to read more than anything. Some children prefer to be social and play, but his favorite spot was the library, somewhere quiet and secluded. To this day, he enjoys reading above most things.”

“Hey, I like books too!” Jasmine climbs up onto the bed, eager to join the conversation.

“Perhaps you can ask Lord Messmer to lend you some at breakfast.” Sianet quirks her brow at your words.

“You’ve decided then?” There’s a hopeful glimmer in her voice.

“It would be impolite to refuse after all he’s done for us.”

“We’re going to have breakfast with Lord Messmer?” Jasmine leans her head against your shoulder and you wrap an arm around her.

“Yes we are. Is that okay with you?”

“Mhmm! He’s nice. Very tall, but nice. Do you think he’d let me pet his snakes?”

“Maybe, but we have to be very polite, okay?”

“Okay.” She nods, then looks down at your robe. “You’re not going to go to breakfast like that, are you?”

You laugh and squeeze her arm lightly. “No, I am not.”

You rise to get dressed, leaving Sianet to brush and tame Jasmine’s hair. You look in the mirror and you realize you should probably do something with your hair, too. You comb it back and make it look presentable, then slip on a dark green tunic and black pants. The gold embroidery on it dances along the fabric, making you look almost regal. Your new clothes are quite comfortable, and you take one more look into the mirror. You’re pleased at the results.

You pull on some soft cotton socks and then your boots. They’re a perfect fit. Maybe the seamstress knows magic?

You return to Jasmine and you see Sianet carefully braiding her hair. She’s pulling the long brown hair into a braided bun, which looks beautiful. You’d have to have her teach you how to do that sometime. At the mention of her hair being done, Jasmine runs towards the vanity and climbs into the chair, shaking her head back and forth to try and see the bun. You chuckle and hand her a small mirror, turn her around, and when she sees her hair, she lets out an audible gasp and looks on, transfixed.

“You look wonderful.” Sianet compliments you.

“Thank you. Would you tell Lord Messmer that we’d love to join him for breakfast?”

She smiles and bows her head. “I’ll tell him right away.”

She exits quickly, steps light and hurried. The door shuts behind her and you try your best to keep anxiety at bay.

Jasmine tiptoes over to you and grabs your hand. You look down and smile at her.

“I think you look wonderful, too.”

“Thank you, sweetie. You always make me feel better.” 

She thunks her head against your hip. “So do you.”

[tsukimefuku]

CHAPTER TWO: MISTAKE OF FACT ❀ HIGURUMA SENSEI SERIES

masterlist link | mdni!

❀ mistake of fact.

the concept “mistake of fact” describes a situation in which someone acts unaware of circumstances that could turn their actions into criminal acts. this can affect the assessment of their intent or culpability, reducing their penalty or even excluding the criminal nature of said act.

wc: 7.2K | ❀ pairing for the series: professor!higuruma x student!reader

❀ summary.

classes, law Firm meetings, and a little grit about it all. after taking and not doing so well on your first criminal law class assessment test, you decide to get hammered at the campus party. you just didn’t expect to accidentally bump into the professor of said class there.

❀ tags and c/w.

non-curse au. college au. silly slow-burn rom-com between professor and college student (this is purely a work of fiction, okay guys?). smoking and drinking. corporate trauma. itafushi is also a slow-burn. higuruma hates doing cardio (mood). nanami needed a subplot and kusakabe had to be in it, the voices told me so. exams suck. campus parties are a special kind of hell. the return of the ugly red scarf.

❀ notes etc.

as i said previously, some characters will have their subplots, hope you enjoy reading them too (they all tie into the main plot). yes I’m working through some issues regarding the lawyering world while writing this fic, how did you notice?

also, some love for the betas: @redlikerozez and @dottedsilktie thank you two so much 💛

You had a habit, a very ugly one. Ironically, the habit you used to unwind was currently driving you insane as you tapped around your pockets, failing to find the lighter for the cigarette you held in your mouth for the past two minutes. You stroked your bangs back in annoyance and grunted, a strand of hair poking up like a spike.

“Fucking hell,” you muttered to yourself the moment the bells went off, letting you know it was time for yet another Criminal Law class. At least this time you managed to wake up somewhat early and were already by the building.

Good job, me.

“Oh, hey!” you heard the light-hearted voice chirp from a distance. Darting your eyes towards it, there came the fluffy ball of pink hair and upbeat mood frolicking in your direction.

“Hey, Itadori! Do you by any chance have a lighter?”

He shrugged, “no, I’m sorry.”

Of course he didn’t. As the best track field runner you had ever met, you wondered if Itadori even knew what a cigarette was.

“You should stop smoking,” a broodier voice said. You noticed the spiky black hair student who was also approaching.

“Ah, get off my case, Fushiguro,” you retorted, putting your cigarette away, “which class are you guys here for?”

“Criminal law! And you?” Itadori replied.

“Oh, me too. I didn’t see you guys in his class last week, though.”

“We saw you!” Yuuji answered, completely oblivious that this was definitely something which would render you uncomfortable. You blushed, and after a few seconds, Fushiguro elbowed him. “Ouch, why did you do that?”

 Fushiguro sighed loudly at his friend’s cluelessness, and you sheepishly giggled.

“Yeah… I guess everybody saw me.”

The three of you were sharing an uncomfortable silence for a few moments before Itadori spoke again.

“So… Why isn’t Kugisaki enrolled?”

 You shrugged, “she wanted to have other classes during this year to fast track her internship opportunities, I guess. I kind of did the same thing.”

“Is that allowed?” Yuuji inquired.

 “Yeah, it is, as long as you take some other 101 classes before doing it,” you answered, while you three began walking into the building.

 “I did that too, I want to pursue an internship in the public defense office as soon as possible,” Megumi interjected.

 “Oh, nice! Me too,” you answered him, “but I’d totally take a position in a private law firm if given the chance.”

Fushiguro made a face you couldn’t quite identify, and didn’t answer anything in return.

The conversation about an internship in criminal defense died down as the three of you entered the elevator together, and while you were walking towards the classroom, Yuuji and Megumi began bantering.

More specifically, Itadori seemed keen on making small-talk about amenities, meanwhile Fushiguro simply did not take the hint and was shooting down every conversation topic his friend tried to bring up. You felt for Yuuji, noticing he was clearly eager to engage Megumi in a conversation, but the guy wouldn’t budge. At that point, you entertained Itadori for the remainder of the quick walk down the corridor.

Perhaps, you thought to yourself, Megumi was the clueless one.

Entering the classroom, you saw Professor Higuruma already seated by his desk fidgeting around with his glasses. This time, there was no suit jacket in sight, and he wore a white buttoned up shirt with a black tie, all under a suit vest.

You weren’t too proud to realize that you noticed the way his vest hugged his torso just right.

To top it off, after he was finished fidgeting with his glasses, Higuruma opened the cuffs of his white shirt, rolled up the sleeves up to his elbows, and slightly loosened his tie with two fingers hooked around it.

The way his arm muscles popped while he was sliding his fingers side to side around the fabric of the tie had every thought in your head poofing away instantly, and you looked away before your staring became too obvious.

The other students were coming in quickly. You made your way towards three miraculously empty seats in the front and sat on one end, while the boys took their places right beside you.

Higuruma noticed you and nodded softly as you met his eyes. You weren’t sure if he’d remember your face, but given the circumstances, it’d probably be hard not to. You greeted him back, smiling, and gestured around your regular-not-pajamas blouse, to which he replied by discreetly gesturing down his clean, not-coffee stained white buttoned up shirt.

Cute.

This time you thought that maybe sitting in the front would keep you safe from the Professor’s experiments. You had already tested your luck sitting in the back and it surely backfired — no pun intended.

After the students were settled, Higuruma got himself up and walked towards the white board, writing self-defense on it. He then turned on his heels, shoved his hands in his pockets and asked, “can anybody tell me what self-defense is?”

From your row, only Megumi raised his hand, but Higuruma’s eyes landed on Yuuji.

“You. What’s your name?” the Professor inquired, pointing at Itadori.

You heard him gulping by your side at that very same moment.

“Itadori Yuuji.”

“Then, Itadori, tell me what you think self-defense is.”

“I mean… self-defense is protecting yourself from someone trying to hurt you.”

Higuruma nodded, “you’re on the right track, but that’s not the entire answer. There is still something missing. Criminal Law occupies itself with criminal activities, so why do we need to study acts taken under self-defense? What else can you tell me about self-defense?”

Yuuji didn’t come up with something else to say, so Higuruma lifted the whiteboard marker in front of him.

“Itadori, I’ll throw this at you now.”

You and Megumi were instantly shocked, and Itadori began stuttering.

“W-wha-”

Higuruma actually threw the marker towards Yuuji’s chest, but Yuuji quickly grabbed it, glancing incredulously at the Professor.

“Now, that wasn’t self-defense in the way that it interests Criminal Law,” Higuruma noted, resuming the class as if nothing had happened.

Truth was, you could try sitting in the back, in the front, or anywhere in between,  but when it came to Higuruma Hiromi’s class, apparently, there was no safe place to hide.

“It wasn’t?!” Itadori exclaimed.

“No. Self-defense, you see, is used to exclude the illegal quality of an action that would otherwise be considered a crime, like assault and battery, for example.”

Higuruma stepped into Yuuji’s direction, and excused himself as he picked the marker back in his hand, leaving the three of you dumbfounded as to how he could nonchalantly do these absurd things and think it was just alright.

The professor began writing on the white board and the classroom was filled with scribbling and typing sounds.

“Self-defense is when someone uses force, against another person, to protect themselves from harm or imminent danger offered by this other person’s criminal actions. In that sense, you didn’t use force against me, you solely protected yourself, hence, that’s not actually self-defense as the concept that matters to us in this classroom.”

Well, the example was crystal clear, indeed. Once again, he illustrated what he wanted to say brilliantly.

But holy shit, did he really have to do those crazy things every damn time?

“Before we proceed, I have some leisure homework for you all. I’d like everybody to watch the first three episodes of this TV series for us to discuss during our next lecture the evolution from legitimate self-defense to extrapolating it and finally committing a crime.”

He wrote the name for the show on the white board.

A shy hand lifted on the other end of the class, and a girl with blue hair and crooked bangs spoke after Higuruma pointed at her.

“Professor, won’t you ask us to watch one of those old movies other teachers usually do in introductory classes?”

“Most definitely not,” he answered — not without scoffing first, “this is Criminal Law, here things are interesting. If you’d like to sleep, go to Professor Nanami’s class, Commercial Law I.”

A tiny chuckle echoed from the back.

“Someone gets it,” he concluded before proceeding with the lecture.

The class went on without a hiccup with Yuuji quickly forgetting the marker debacle a few minutes in. After Higuruma was finished talking about the day’s topic, though, he remembered everyone about next week's assessment test, receiving mumbled complaints in return.

“Yeah, I know. I hate these things too, but unfortunately we have orders from above. Be sure to study everything up until the end of the self-defense module,” Higuruma said as he sank into his desk’s chair and fished his phone out of his pocket, “I wish you all best of luck.”

As the class was done, everyone began leaving.

 “So, where are you going now?” Yuuji asked as you were currently fumbling around in your bag looking for your lighter — perhaps it wasn’t in your pockets after all, right?

 “I… if you two are tight on time just go without me, I’m looking for something in here and it might take some time,” you answered, thinking that some physics law might’ve been broken. Your bag seemed larger from the inside than from outside, and your lighter had surely disintegrated into thin air.

 “It’s fine, we can wait,” Fushiguro answered.

Yuuji suddenly seemed to remember something and came at you sort of hyped, asking “will you be at the campus party by the end of next week?!”

 “Sure, sure,” you answered absentmindedly, still fondling your things around and considering flipping it all on the ground.

 “There will be a party next week on campus?” Higuruma asked with his eyes still glued to his phone’s screen.

Fushiguro elbowed Yuuji again, as it was kind of a secret from faculty members, just so none of them would butt in — there were the clueless ones, like Professor Gojo, for instance, that would always find their way into the free drinks and free food celebrations that were supposedly just for students.

 “Y-Yes… it will be pretty late, though.”

Higuruma hummed, completely unfazed, “when I was a student here, we’d usually have those after 11PM to avoid faculty members, it’s a good idea. My suggestion is that you all just keep the noise down and use the space behind the brown brick building, there’s a blind spot there from the rest of the campus.”

Yuuji and Megumi shared a look before nodding hesitantly. Higuruma noticed they were both somewhat worried and sighed.

 “Don’t worry, I’m not telling the other Professors, and you can all be completely sure I won’t be there.”

The bated breath the two students shared finally subsided.

“God fucking damnit where is this fucking lighter?” you mumbled to yourself.

That caught Higuruma’s attention, and he called your name.

Your hand stammered inside your bag and you looked at him.

 “Do you need a lighter?” he asked you, lifting his eyes from his phone towards your direction.

You had the impression his eye bags were smaller that day.

 “Yes, I lost mine.”

He reached into one of his pockets and pulled a small, yellow, disposable lighter, stretching his arm in your direction, “you can take this one, I have tons of these.”

You got up, threw your bag over your shoulder, and went to pick it up from his hands. As your fingers wrapped around the lighter, you accidentally locked eyes with him, now sure his eye bags were definitely smaller. Higuruma spared you a small smile and you immediately felt your cheeks warm as you took the tiny yellow lighter from his fingers and stepped back.

I’m pathetic.

 “So, we’re good to go?” Fushiguro asked, looking at you.

“We’re good to go,” you answered him, then looking at Higuruma, “thank you, Professor.”

 “It’s no trouble, Sanrio” he answered, redirecting his attention back to his phone, completely unaware he had just called you that out loud.

After a few seconds, realizing what he'd just done, Higuruma sheepishly lifted his eyes, seeing two confused boys and you looking away with your hand over your mouth, coughing softly. You bore the same weirdly twisted face you made days before, when he asked you to leave in the mock expulsion.

Truth was you wanted to laugh, equal parts amused and mortified.

“Sanrio? What?” Yuuji asked.

“My next class is Civil Law II! What about you, Fushiguro? We should go!” you blurted out, ignoring Yuuji’s question while stepping away, “bye, Professor. See you next class!”

 “You three have a good day,” Higuruma muttered, sinking further into his chair as he looked away to conceal his own embarrassment.

The boys, still at a loss, followed you outside, also bidding Higuruma a good day.

***

This is hell. I’m a smoker and this is my personal, dantesque circle of hell for that sin.

With one leg launching in front of the other at a steady pace, Higuruma was jogging down the street while accompanied solely by the rhythmic thuds of his feet on the pavement. He had already put at least a mile behind him.

His blood felt like battery acid pumping through his veins, and lungs and muscles were burning with the strain of an exercise he was doing for the third time this week thanks to the encouragement of his best friend.

This time, however, there was no distraction from the discomfort while Higuruma dragged himself completely alone on this morning run. His usual jogging partner, Nanami, told him just ten minutes before the scheduled time that he would not be able to make it.

 “Did something happen?” Higuruma asked on the phone, “It’s unlike you to cancel appointments with such short notice.”

Truthfully, Nanami was someone extremely considerate of other people’s time.

 “Nothing too serious. I’ll have to be in a meeting with a Labor Law associate. It involves one of the companies we represent here at the firm,” he replied with an involuntary sigh. Nanami did not enjoy being taken by surprise like this.

 “A meeting for one of those Union settlements?”

 “Yes.”

 “Yeesh, good luck with that. Don’t be too harsh on the workers, though.”

 “I’ll just be there to oversee the meeting and report the outcome to our client, I have no say in the matter.”

 “Really? Couldn’t the Labor Law associate do that, then?”

 “It’s Kusakabe. He doesn’t do anything he’s not specifically paid to do.”

 “Oh, right.” 

Higuruma paused for a moment. He was already at their usual meeting point, all propped up and ready to go, but didn’t quite feel like subjecting himself to that torture alone.

 “You should just do your run today, I’ll join you back after tomorrow,” Nanami told him, as if reading his mind.

 “I don’t know. Having company makes this slightly more bearable.”

 “Is that so?” Nanami barely concealed the hint of amusement in his voice.

 “Tsk, shut up.” Higuruma retorted.

 Nanami huffed, nearly a chuckle, and proceeded, “this routine seems to have affected you positively, you shouldn’t miss a day for such a pedestrian reason.”

It was true. As a consolation prize for this suffering, the Professor had managed to sleep better those past few days and his mood had improved too.

Prior to his breakdown, Higuruma had never given much thought about his overall health. After he came back to normal life — or as normal as it could be —, he tried to eat properly and exercise at the gym most days of the week. 

“I guess,” Higuruma finally conceded, defeated, loathing cardio with every fiber of his being.

 “Then, off you go.”

“Okay. I’ll run and suffer alone today after being ditched,” Higuruma stated, half in jest.

 “Don’t be so dramatic, Hiromi,” Nanami remarked, “you can do it just fine.”

Just fine… I’m not sure if “fine” is the word I’d choose for this self-imposed torture.

Taking one of the final turns, Higuruma passed by a storefront. On it, there was a big illustration of Hello Kitty that covered most of the space. He hadn’t noticed that store before, but seeing the cartoonish cat with its pink bow brought an amused smile to his face as he remembered the student that, for some random reason, decided to attend his class using a kitty’s pajamas — you.

That moment got him to reminisce on the occasions that he, himself, was also too tired or too out of it to properly change before going to class, leading to some similar debacles during his undergrad years.

Ever since that day, the Professor had nicknamed you Sanrio in his head, a silly inside joke with himself. 

As he reached the end of the usual route, Higuruma paused and hunched over, inhaling deeply through his mouth, oxygen failing to properly enter his cells — or at least it felt like it. 

I wonder if I can take a taxi to go back home...

Involuntarily hearing Nanami’s voice in his head chastising him for wanting to take the easy shortcut, Higuruma grunted and took a deep breath before jogging his way back.

***

Nanami churned on his coffee’s last sip as if that alone would be enough to realign his chakras and soothe his growing headache. 

It wasn’t.

Nanami rarely saw himself pulled into other people’s work, but he detested each and every time it happened. As someone that usually planned his day thoroughly, with every minute properly accounted for, these types of unforeseen events would, most times, end up causing a domino effect over everything he had arranged in his schedule.

This time, however, he wasn’t sure if his distaste for the situation stemmed solely from the fact that his agenda got fondled around.

Something else about it was bothering him, even if he couldn’t quite put his finger on it.

The contrast on the meeting table was clear — on the company’s side, he sat with Kusakabe, at least three mid-level associates, two juniors and one random intern. Behind them, the firm’s logo hung high on the wall, casting its brushed steel sheen over the expensive mahogany table. 

On the other side, though, sat an Union representative with one single lawyer beside him. Since the firm had rescheduled this meeting on short notice four times, demanding it took place in one of their offices — which was everything but close to where the union-office was located —, the Union only had enough money to pay for the expenses of sending the minimum amount of people required to legally sign a settlement.

Nanami slowly realized, as the negotiations went on, what was bothering him so much.

This wasn’t a negotiation meeting.

It was a power play consisting of intimidation techniques. Clearly an attempt at wearing the Union down and pushing them into accepting any settlement to end the strike as soon as possible.

It all said we can take you on — if you don’t accept our offer and take this to Court, we have the money, the people and the ways to win this fight.

“These are our terms, as we had already discussed, printed and ready for you to sign,” Kusakabe remarked, as he pushed a pile of papers towards the two.

The Union representative seemed ready to crumble under a put-upon expression, his black hair parted in the middle and thick framed glasses not doing nearly enough to conceal it. He knew exactly what was going on, how this had happened, and also that this strike couldn’t go on for much longer without causing serious issues in the lives of all the workers. 

The company was successful in their attempt of making it look like they tried to settle the dispute, and it had been long enough that people would start falling like dominos in the firing list.

The blond woman beside him seemed ready to toss her attorney’s license in the nearest dumpster and go do something else with her life.

The Union representative took the pen in his hand and sighed.

 “Are you positive you want to do this, Ijichi?” the lawyer asked, looking at him with a tinge of concern in between her brows.

 “We don’t have another choice, Nitta,” he replied, signing those papers away so quickly it felt like his hands were about to get burned in the fiery pits of hell. 

She exhaled sharply while leaning back on her chair.

“I’m glad we got to settle this amicably. We expect you all back on the grounds by Monday,” Kusakabe concluded as he pulled the pile of papers back to him and lifted himself up on the chair.

Everyone got up, but when Kusakabe extended his hand towards Nitta, she and Ijichi just turned around, stepping towards the exit.

Nanami’s slight discomfort had grown into an actual stone weighing in his gut, and he didn’t quite think about what he ended up doing next.

He walked behind Nitta and Ijichi, and called them by their names — something that surprised them both, given they didn’t expect him and most of the people inside that meeting room to be paying any attention at all. 

“So, you did listen to that meeting and weren't there just to add numbers?” Nitta asked begrudgingly.

 “I did,” Nanami answered.

 “What do you want?” Ijichi inquired, itching to get himself out of that building as quickly as possible. He felt dirty, to say the least, and needed a minimum of three full baths to feel like himself again.

 “To give you both my business card.”

Both of them looked incredulous.

 “I don’t mean any harm nor am I trying to get something out of a terrible situation. I just... That was...” 

He really didn’t think this through.

 “What I mean to say is that if there is anything you both need, this is my contact info.”

Nanami pulled the slim piece of cardstock and offered it. Ijichi and Nitta shared a hesitant look right before she took it from his hands. With a bow, both of them left, still feeling a little dumbfounded.

 “Are you trying to get yourself in trouble? You’ve made it to Partner in the firm, leave it alone,” a slightly muffled voice echoed behind Nanami. It was Kusakabe, who had just shoved a lollipop in his mouth and had his hands inside his pockets.

 “That didn’t bother you at all?” Nanami inquired, gesturing towards the now emptying meeting room.

 “I’m not paid to get bothered. I come, I do my job, and I go home.”

 “Still,” Nanami remarked, “it was...”

 “I know,” Kusakabe answered him. He took a few moments before sighing, leaning himself against a wall, and repeated in a lower tone, “I know.”

For the briefest moment, Kusakabe’s expression resembled a slight grimace.

 “You don’t seem completely unbothered, even if you’re not getting paid to care,” Nanami stated.

Kusakabe looked at Nanami and said nothing as they made their way back into their respective offices.

***

Higuruma also had a bad habit.

Due to his terrible memory regarding people’s names, he gave everyone a nickname in his mind. Beyond calling you Sanrio, his nicknames for the pink haired fluffy guy and the brooding dude always by his side were, respectively, Clueless and Porcupine. 

At that moment, he watched as Sanrio, Clueless and Porcupine sat beside one another while taking their first assessment test for the Criminal Law class.

You were so laser focused on the test, eyes darting from one end to the other of the paper frantically, hand periodically brushing your bangs back in desperation, that he feared you might actually end up accidentally activating a laser beam and burning the thing. Clueless was… well, clueless. He looked like someone who had never been properly alphabetized in his entire life. And finally, Porcupine didn’t seem bothered in the slightest, calmly reading and selecting each answer with the ease and certainty of someone that knew what he was doing.

He was sort of amused to realize Sanrio’s bangs had a small lock of hair poking out.

Higuruma glanced his eyes over the class, and made the sad realization he’d have dozens upon dozens of tests to grade and submit to the Dean the following morning.

What a nightmare, I’ll be here forever grading these after hours.

He had completely forgotten, earlier that day, that he’d have to deal with assessment test shenanigans. The information popped back into his mind five minutes before he arrived at the Uni, and Higuruma got a little desperate, remembering he needed to pick up the pile of tests inside the brown brick building’s print center before darting his way to class.

At least, he was more accustomed to running by then.

After parking near the building, Higuruma ran against the clock, and made it by the skin of his teeth. The Professor was completely relieved, failing to realize that his memory had fucked him over more than once that day.

You, on the other hand, weren’t fending off much better.

What do I do, there is more than one answer to this, it fucking depends, goddammit, you cursed inside your mind while answering most of the questions in that assessment test.

I need a cigarette.

You were particularly bad at taking multiple choice tests, especially in subjective areas — which was definitely the case for Criminal Law.

You had this little curse of wanting to select two different answers in nearly every question and always choosing the wrong one.

At least I can drink this failure away at the party today. 

“Ten more minutes!” Higuruma’s voice echoed through the classroom, and you must’ve looked particularly more hectic than before, because you felt his eyes on you, and when looking up, noticed he seemed a little concerned.

Very charmingly concerned in that disheveled suit and slightly messy hair.

Ah, shut up, brain.

After the ten minutes flew by, a cacophony of pens being put down or clicked around could be heard. People got up, and one by one, the students put their tests over Higuruma’s desk. He dangled over his chair lazily, bidding his students a good morning with a mumble.

You were the last one left, and stared at your test like it was a nuke falling right into your future criminal defense attorney career. Sad wasn’t the best word for it — you felt disheartened.

Sighing defeatedly, you lifted yourself from your chair like your clothing was made of lead and walked towards Higuruma’s desk, handing him the paper. His eyes lifted towards you while he took the test from your hands. 

“What did you think of the test?” Higuruma inquired, organizing all the papers into a neat pile.

You huffed.

“Sanrio is worried about this test,” you replied, smiling while poking a little fun at him.

His eyes widened a little, and for a second, Higuruma looked embarrassed. 

“About that, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to...” he began.

“Oh! It’s...”

Completely okay. Kinda sweet. Something I might’ve actually liked. 

“Fine. I didn’t mind. It’s not always, but sometimes I nickname people in my head too.”

He offered you a discreet awkward nod, “okay, then.” 

Noticing you might’ve made him unnecessarily uncomfortable, you decided to lighten up the air.

“So... No random experiment for torturing your minions today? I mean, the students.” 

Higuruma chuckled softly.

“Ah, no. I figured this test was enough torture for one day,” he answered, spirited, “I’m not that ruthless.”

Remembering the Yuuji marker debacle, you thought about something for a moment before you resumed speaking.

“You know,” you began, “perhaps you should ask for students to volunteer before doing your… things.”

“I used to, actually,” he promptly answered.

“You did?” your voice sounded surprised.

Higuruma nodded, “Yes, but students rarely volunteered.”

That sounded a little off.

“Quick question, Professor. Did this scarcity of volunteers happen before or after the first volunteer demonstration?” you inquired.

“After. Why do you ask?” He asked while putting the tests into his briefcase.

Oh my God, he’s so clueless.

“No reason. Just curious.”

***

“Hey, people! I brought us beers!” Yuuji exclaimed, light spirited, as he walked towards you, Megumi, Nobara and Maki all seated on the grass behind the brick building. He quickly descended to sit beside the group.

“You are the best, but I’m not mixing today,” you thanked, greeting him with a cup full of pure vodka, “this should do the trick for tonight. Also, it’s pretty fucking cold for beer.” 

“Is that why you’re wearing that thing?” Nobara inquired while pointing at your ugly red scarf around your neck. 

“Get off my case, Nobara,” you retorted, gulping on your drink with some unidentifiable desperation.

“Shit, was the test that bad?” Maki asked you as she took a single can from Yuuji’s arms, while mindlessly pulling Nobara closer and kissing her head.

“It was weird, I was so confused, it felt like every question had at least two answers,” you complained, stretching your body over the grass. 

“You probably did fine, you tend to be overly dramatic about these things,” Nobara stated while pulling another can from Yuuji, smacking on his shoulder with a fist. He whined in complaint, and she chuckled like a tiny ginger demon. 

“I agree with Kugisaki, you’re smart!” Yuuji chirped in, while scrambling his way to sit beside Megumi, “I had no idea what I was doing. If you thought about at least two answers to each question, you’re already better than me.”

This poor, poor kid, you thought.

“There’s more to exams than just being smart, you need to know how to do them, and I do not, unfortunately…” you answered, a tinge of disappointment to your expression.

“This is solely an assessment test, anyway. It doesn’t compute in our final grades, there is no need to be so upset about it,” Megumi interjected, shushing himself when you glared at him. 

He was terrible at comforting people. 

“So, Fushiguro, I didn’t quite know what you’d like to drink, so I brought three types of beer,” Itadori mumbled, extending three different cans of beer towards Megumi like a raven with trinket offerings for his favorite human.

Not exactly smooth, but definitely cute.

Nobara and Maki shared a look, both of them with cheeky smiles on their faces. You covered your mouth to conceal your own smile — you were far from being as saucy as the power couple by your side — and waited with a bated breath for Megumi to pick up on the hint from Yuuji.

It was about time, considering it had been months of Yuuji trying to make a move. 

“No, thank you, I won’t drink today,” Fushiguro cluelessly replied, and Itadori visibly deflated from that. 

“T-then… I can grab a soda for you, or…” Itadori clumsily interjected, while scratching the back of his neck. 

“There’s no need, I will go-” 

Perhaps it was the vodka, the dreadful day or how much Megumi had just cock-blocked your shipping dreams, but you blurted out your next few words. 

“For fucks sake, Fushiguro, if you don’t take a beer can from Itadori right now, I will body slam you into oblivion.” 

“… We’re on the ground. How would that even-” 

“Bitch, don’t test me.”

Fushiguro was somewhat taken aback by your interjection, but hesitantly extended his hand and picked one of the three beers Itadori had selected for him, prying it open with a wheezing click. Megumi looked at you, then the beer can, then at Itadori, suspiciously taking a tiny sip. 

“It is… good,” he muttered, as a smile slowly returned to Yuuji’s Kirby persona. 

“Now, thank him,” you complemented, pointing at Yuuji, “he did find three types of beer in this God-forsaken campus party only for you, after all. I’d never have bothered to do so, and I bet Maki and Nobara feel the same.”

The power couple raised their drinks in agreement towards you, and Fushiguro sighed. 

“Thank you, Itadori.” 

Yuuji happily nodded, “you’re welcome! Do you want something to eat? I could-”

“Baby steps, buddy… baby steps,” you interrupted, putting your hand over Yuuji’s shoulder. He nodded sheepishly while Megumi was at a loss.

“O-okay,” Itadori acquiesced.

Suddenly, you all heard a voice calling Megumi’s name from a distance, sounding like some kind of haunting, and began looking around as he buried his face in his hands.

“Who is that?” you asked.

“Megumi! Where’s the food!?” the voice inquired in a light hearted tone. In the distance, you saw a fluffy, white ball of hair approaching under sunglasses. At night.

Megumi groaned from the depths of his soul.

“Argh, for fucks sake,” he complained, well aware as to who was coming.

Trying to dodge the faculty members didn’t do much to keep his adoptive father away, apparently.

Not so far from there, Higuruma sat in a poorly lit office grading the tests the entire class had taken that morning. After finishing grading yours — and you didn’t do very well, just as you had anticipated — he muttered to himself, out loud, “what happened there, Sanrio?”

The Professor failed to notice he did remember your name perfectly, even if he kept calling you Sanrio. 

“Will you sleep in here today?” a familiar voice scowled from the door, and Higuruma turned his face to meet the dusty blonde head of hair peeping through. 

“I’ll just finish grading these and then I’ll go home, Kento,” Higuruma answered with a tired smile on his face. 

“And couldn’t you have done that from home?” his friend asked, looking at the menacing pile of paper over the man’s desk, “or maybe tomorrow morning.” 

“Oh, I’d never get to it if I had left it for later. I’m already here, might as well just ditch this Pavlovian nightmare as soon as possible,” the other stated, flailing a test on his hand before proceeding, “what are these even meant to assess? Someone’s capabilities of answering formulaic questions like trained dogs? Ugh.”

Higuruma was ranting.

Nanami huffed a slightly amused chuckle, but underneath it, he seemed a little beaten down. 

“Is everything okay, Kento?” Higuruma asked, interrupting his ranting when noticing his deflated friend. 

“I’m… fine.”

Nanami had forgotten for a second that Higuruma, underneath all his antics, was a very perceptive person. 

“Are you sure?” Higuruma insisted, “you don’t look so well.” 

“It’s nothing. I’m just thinking about work, that’s all.”

And that he was. That meeting had stuck with him for those past few days. 

“Oh, how was the meeting with the Union?”

Nanami’s breath got caught for a second before he mustered up something to answer. 

“It wasn’t what I expected it to be. I might be switching things up soon,” Nanami said with some understated grave finality. 

“Truly?” Higuruma sounded surprised. 

“Yes. Perhaps exploring new fronts beyond Corporate Law.” 

“Well, then, let me know if there’s anything I can do to help apart from practicing law.”

Higuruma’s voice cracked softly right at the end of his sentence. ​Nanami didn’t fail to notice it, and kept silent as his friend seemed to mull over bitter memories. 

“Hiromi,” Nanami began. 

“I can’t, I… can’t.”

Higuruma had visibly tensed up, his fists unconsciously clenching as his forearms laid flat on the desk.

“It wasn’t your fault,” Nanami concluded, careful not to dig too deep on the matter.

Both of them shared an uncomfortable silence before Higuruma hesitantly steered his gaze to meet Nanami’s. Unsure, Higuruma gave his friend a tiny nod, and moved his attention back to the task in front of him. 

Understanding that the talk about it was over, at least for now, Nanami asked, “I’m leaving, do you want me to help you carry those to your car?” 

“Oh, there’s no need. I parked far, behind the…”

Oh, shit. 

“Nanami, what day is it today?”

*** 

“I’m not drunk,” you mumbled, while filling your third cup of vodka. 

“I’m not so sure about that,” Nobara said, giving you a light push to your shoulder, having you nearly tip over. Meanwhile, Megumi, Yuuji and Maki were entertained with Yuuji trying to score Gojo’s open mouth with peanuts like it was a basketball hoop.

Megumi was the least entertained of the trio.

“Knock it off!” you complained, slapping her hand away.

You fished your pack of cigarettes from your pocket, and she instantly grunted. 

“Those things stink and itch my nose, go smoke them somewhere else.” 

It was your time to grunt. 

“Ugh, fine. Then I’ll find a new best friend that’ll let me smoke — hell, one that might even smoke with me!” you  replied, getting ready to leave. 

“Make good choices!” she poked at you, and you playfully brushed her off. 

“I won’t!”

You walked away — not before hearing Yuuji and Gojo cheering right after Yuuji managed to score ten peanuts in a row — and gave your cup of vodka another sip, having the burning tingle dripping down your throat, warming you up against the cold wind.

After about two minutes or so of walking, sure your smoke wouldn’t blow on anyone’s faces, you put a cigarette into your mouth and pulled the lighter Professor Higuruma had given you, trying to light the cig up.

However, the wind wouldn’t let you, no matter how much you tried to tent your hand around it.

God, why? you thought to yourself, fidgeting with your bangs in annoyance.

While darting your eyes around, looking for any sort of shelter from the wind, you found a beat up, dark navy-blue car that surely had seen better days parked just behind the brick building. In your drunken haze, you figured that squatting between both would be the best idea.

Stumbling your way towards the gap, you quickly went down on the ground in a crouched position, holding your cup in one hand and the lighter on the other, cig strongly held in between your lips.

Flick, flick, flick.

Nothing.

God fucking damnit. 

“Hey!” a male voice exclaimed from behind you, scaring the shit out of your soul. 

Your body moved on instinct. You instantly jumped up, startled and screaming, and tossed the entire vodka contents from the cup towards whoever had nearly given you a heart attack.

Higuruma stood there, completely stunned and incredulous, as the beverage hit his shirt, vest, tie, face and coat. 

“… I didn’t mean to scare you,” he offered, taking his glasses off to shake the liquid from them before putting them back, “but why?”

For a split second, he was just glad this wasn’t coffee or wine, the staining demons of liquids. It could’ve been worse.

Oh my God. I can’t believe I assaulted this man with my drink again. This has to be a prank.

This time, already impaired from two full glasses of vodka in your system, and increasingly nervous at that situation, you couldn’t hold it in. 

You began cackling, directly to his face, as his expression became profoundly confused. He lifted an eyebrow, not knowing if he should feel scared, amused or offended.

"I-I just… Just laugh in i-inappropriate… moments- I’m sorry!" you tried explaining, in between laughs and huffs, drying a tear that bubbled up at the edge of your eye with the tip of your fingers.

You both stood there for a few seconds until your laughter died down, and he was then sure you definitely had a few screws loose.

It amused him.

“Here, let me use this to dry your shirt," you told Higuruma, approaching him with your red scarf, pressing it against his chest. He put his free hand over it and haphazardly rubbed it over the damp patches of his clothes alongside you.

This up close, he couldn’t help but notice once again that tiny hair lock which swirled away from your bangs.

Realizing he was staring at your hair, Higuruma diverted his eyes elsewhere, having them landing over the ugly red scarf. 

"Ah, that hideous thing." 

Shit, I said that out loud, he thought to himself, facepalming internally. 

To that, you looked at him, wide eyed, and laughed wholeheartedly, having Higuruma blushing embarrassment at his own incapacity to control his words. 

"It is hideous, isn't it?" you noted, surprising him.

For the second time in that interaction, he was nothing short of perplexed. The Professor was more than accustomed to having people get deeply offended at his talking mishaps from time to time.

"I thought you might be laughing because what I said was terribly inappropriate," Higuruma admitted, somewhat relieved.

"Oh, no. It was funny. I also laugh at funny things," you jested with a mindless smile pulling on your cheeks.

It was his time to chuckle, and you didn’t fail to notice, even in your tipsy fog, how a tiny crease would form on the edges of his hangdog eyes when he was laughing. And how his voice reverberated. And how his disheveled hair framed around his face beautifully, highlighting his beautiful hooked nose. And-

Shit. I have the hots for the Professor.

"... Is there still anything on my face?"

That snapped you out of it, but not entirely.

"Uh? Why?"

"Because you're staring at it."

Yeah. That checks out. 

“I just… never mind,” you told him while blushing discreetly, scrambling around to give him some space. It was only then that Higuruma noticed he had his hand resting over yours for a while after you stopped trying to pat him dry with the ugliest scarf known to mankind. 

Clearing his throat, he asked, “why were you slouching by my car?” 

“I was trying to light a cigarette,” you replied, pointing at the cig on the ground after the debacle, “the wind is pretty unforgiving today.”

“I see. I’m sorry about the fallen soldier,” he stated. 

“No worries, I’ve got more,” you replied, pulling your pack from your pocket, “do you want one?” 

I shouldn’t, smoking is bad, I’m doing cardio three times a we-

“Yes.” 

You pulled two cigarettes from the pack, put them both in your mouth, cupped your hand around the cigs to light them up, and it actually worked.

Well, that’s convenient.

You inhaled the smoke for a second, feeling it waving into your mouth. It immediately soothed your crave.

Taking one of them in between two fingers, you extended your hand towards Higuruma, who grabbed the smoke. 

“Thanks,” he offered in a calm tone.

“No worries, it’s the least I could do after assaulting you with vodka,�� you shrugged with some embarrassment.

“It’s oka… pure vodka?” 

“Yes.”

That’s… a lot.

He was a little taken aback, but decided not to ask anything. 

“Well, at least it won’t leave a stain, unlike coffee,” Higuruma remarked. 

“Yeah, it won’t,” you replied while mindlessly giggling.

Higuruma finally bowed his head towards you and you retributed the gesture, bidding him goodbye before leaving on your way to your dorm room. 

Once you were gone, he went inside his car, cracking the window open. As he was finally alone pulling the cigarette towards his lips, Higuruma noticed something around the edge of the cig. A soft pinkish-red ring that went all around it.

Is this… her lipstick?

It was.

Against his better judgment, Higuruma blushed softly, instantly shaking his head to weave off the heat that had pooled around in his cheeks before flipping the engine on.

Get a hold of yourself.

He did, however, hold the cig in his mouth, smudging the faint lipstick tint it had on his lips until the smoke was all spent up.

-

Tag list:

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[pinguwrites]

𝑳𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒔' 𝑺𝒚𝒏𝒅𝒓𝒐𝒎𝒆 ⸻ Chapter Two

series masterlist. previous chapter. next chapter

𝒑𝙖𝒊𝙧𝒊𝙣𝒈 | francis mosses x reader

𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 | 1.5k

Warnings: lowkey hating on a girl, mention of church and God bc it's the 50s and that's what they did

A/N: Would you guys rather me upload short chapters frequently or long chapters but it takes more time in between?

It was twelve in the afternoon, and you hadn’t seen Francis yet. You were worried that something had happened, maybe he got hurt in his apartment, hit his head and was bleeding on the floor, or maybe slipped and sprained an ankle, but you couldn’t just call his number to make sure — that would be unprofessional. Not only that, but the most likely case was that he left earlier than you got to work, which used to happen a lot when you first started working here.

In the meanwhile, you sat at your desk, trying to pass the time. There wasn’t much to do, and you found yourself thinking of Anastacha and what she had said last night. You reasoned with yourself that she was just getting your hopes up high. She was a little girl and didn’t know anything at all. But now that she had said what she said, you couldn’t get it out of your head. The thought of Francis liking you back . . . did he daydream about you like you did? Get nervous when talking to you? When he worked, did he miss your presence?

Ugh. How come he could torture you like this, consume your mind and heart without knowing what he was doing? It wasn’t fair. For once, you’d like for someone else to feel that way about you. To spend their every waking hour, every slumber, feeling the way you did. 

You were snapped out of your thoughts when the elevator bell rang. Attention perked, you hoped that it was Francis, and as if your wish was granted, it was.

He walked out, glancing over at you. You tried to look nonchalant, but inside your worries were relieved. So he was okay. Everything is fine.

Before he could approach you, however, he was blocked by another woman. You internally rolled your eyes as you saw Selenne strike up a conversation with him. The Svertch twins were models, quite famous, actually. They were well-known within the city. The most tiresome part of your job was probably shooing away the paparazzi, convincing them that it was another Selenne and Elenois who lived in Sama Place, not the celebrities they were thinking of. 

Elenois was nice enough. She was a little full of herself, but you were sure that came with the job. After all, if you earned money just because of how pretty you were, you would have an ego as well. But her sister . . . oh, her sister was far worse. She was always rude to staff, making passive-aggressive comments all the time, and you knew for a fact that she didn’t like you. It may have been because you were a woman, and she didn’t like women very much, despite being one herself, but you were sure it had to do with much more than that. 

When you thought about how grateful you were to work in a place like this, you always forgot about Selenne, and how miserable she made you feel. Maybe that was the price of having a reasonably good job. There was always a downside to everything.

You watched as she flirted with Francis. He looked mildly uncomfortable, a little stoic in his expressions, but that was how he always looked. What Anastacha said last night was true — he was nice, but a little aloof. Maybe he was enjoying whatever conversation he was having with Selenne, only it didn’t show on his face. You wondered if that’s how he looked when he was talking to you.

“Ah, there you are!”

You looked to the side and saw your boss approaching you. His name was Samuel Brogan. He was a rather short man, with a tanned complexion and thin lips. He had coarse, straightened hair, and a stubble on his chin. He was the one responsible for hiring you. He owned Sama Place — at least, he was in charge of this specific building. 

“This is where I always am,” you responded, and he laughed. 

“Sorry, darling. I don’t expect a person to be able to sit in that chair all day.”

You gave a polite smile. You never really liked Samuel, call it instinct, but he was your boss, so you had to be nice. 

“You’re not busy this weekend, are you?” he asked, leaning his arms against your desk. Shifting uncomfortably, you glanced over at Francis again, but he was still talking to Selenne.

“I was planning on . . .” Not able to come up with a lie quick enough, you gave up. “Not doing much. I just want to go home and relax — it’s been a long week.”

“Yeah, yeah, I understand. You’ve been a wonderful employee, I want you to have time for yourself.”

You stared. Where was this going?

“But I need you to work this weekend,” he finally said, and your heart dropped.

“I don’t understand. What about that teenager you hired?”

On Saturday, he didn’t need someone working full-time. Sundays were reserved for Church and God, obviously, so for that one day, he hired a kid who was willing to work with little pay to just sit at the desk and make sure everything was going smoothly. 

“He got sick,” Samuel explained. “It’s just an extra day, and it’s only half your usual hours.”

Reluctantly, you agreed. You were sure you wouldn’t get any compensation for it, but it wasn’t that bad. 

“Oh, and I need you to run a few errands for me,” he added, setting down a list of items in front of you. “Whenever you can, but have it by the end of this week.”

He left, and you sighed. 

Picking up the list, you scanned through it. Wallpaper, a toolkit, canned fruit? Surely he didn’t expect you to pay for this out of your own pocket . . .

You folded the note and put it in your pocket, just in time for Francis to approach you. You looked around for Selenne, but she was already walking out of the building with sunglasses.

“What were you two talking about?” you blurted out, feeling immediately ashamed of yourself afterward. What were you thinking asking that kind of question? What would he think of you?

Francis looked taken off guard for a moment, but he answered anyway. “Oh, nothing. What were you and Brogan talking about?”

“Nothing,” you responded pettily. 

It was quiet for a moment, that kind of awkward silence that you hated.

You relented. “Alright, he wants me to work tomorrow, and run some errands. That’s it.”

“Selenne was curious about my work. I told her that I had taken a day off and was going to visit my parents,” he said.

“Now, that wasn’t too difficult, was it?” you teased, reveling in the way he averted his eyes.

“No, ma’am.”

God. The way he said it. He was so beautiful, in every possible way. Sometimes, you wished you could keep him in your room forever.

“Do they live nearby?” you asked. “Your parents, I mean.”

“Somewhat. I’ll be back before nightfall. I’m sorry Brogan is making you work the weekend. If you want, I’ll convince him to change his mind.”

You shook your head. “It’s okay. It’s not like I was planning to do much tomorrow. Just fix some furniture and do a bit of housekeeping.”

“Fix furniture?” he repeated. “I don’t think you should be doing that. You could get hurt.”

You giggled. “I’m not a dainty princess.”

He frowned. “I know. I don’t mean to undermine you. You’re a very capable woman. It’s just that . . . I would feel better if someone was there to help you.”

“Mhm. And who’s gonna do that?”

Francis looked up at you with expectant eyes. “I’m free Sunday.”

You paused, not believing what he was saying. Was he offering to come over to your place? Him? Inside your house? The place you slept and changed your clothes and took baths . . . Lord, you didn’t know if you could handle this intimacy. Was it even right? Oh, who were you kidding? You didn’t care if it was acceptable or not. If Francis was offering to spend time with you (help you fix furniture, but whatever) there was no way you were going to turn down that offer. 

“Yes,” you said, more eagerly than you liked. “I could give you my address and you could stop by around eleven?”

He smiled. “Mmm. Alright, then,” he agreed. “I look forward to seeing you.”

“Me too.”

He gave a slight tip of his hat, a motion you could have fainted at had you not been sitting on a chair, and left, leaving you with nothing but the anticipation of this Sunday.

Imagine him — shirtless as he nails screws and lifts planks of wood. I’d give him cool lemonade as he worked and watch him as he wipes the sweat from his forehead . . . For the rest of the day, you couldn’t get the image out of your head. You greeted your neighbors as they walked by, and helped the occasional person with a problem, but all that was floating around in your head was Francis, Francis, Francis.

Taglist: @Meetmeatyourworst @hanawrites404 @Emimurphy2008

[scmg11]

EMILY DICKINSON x READER

YOU CANNOT PUT A FIRE OUT

A/N: HELLO HELLOO! How are you guys doing? Missed me?

Enjoy this new chapter ❤️

Sending you love ❤️

-

Summary: Emily meets Y/N at the well one day and just falls in love for her. When she tries to find her again the next days, it seems like she just disappeared. She was ready to lose hope when one day she finds her in her house to start a job as her new maid with her aunt Maggie. What will happen then?

Warnings: just slightly groping, nothing too much explicit.

Word count: 15380 words.

-

The sun beamed all over the expanse of the Dickinson’s garden, warming up Emily’s face as she decided to spend her morning outside, leaning on her favorite three and just soaking up in the calmness that was the nature. She closed her eyes and leaned her head back on the tree’s trunk surface to take a few moments of quietness in, smiling widely when she heard a few birds chirping around her, setting a warm and fuzzy feeling in her chest that always put her in a good mood. "Emily!"

The brown haired girl sighed loudly at her moment being ruined and tried to drown the sound away, but she heard it again a few seconds later and inevitably opened her eyes and turned towards the source of the sound coming from her right side, right where her house was, "yes?" Emily had to restrain herself from rolling her eyes when her mother called her name once again, ignoring her answering to her calls and making her sit up and abandon her morning in the nature to go and see whatever she needed from her.

"Emily?! Emily?!" The brown haired girl scoffed under her breath on her way back to her house, she knew her mother had head her when she was leaning on the tree but called her over nonetheless and was keeping calling her despite seeing her walking over her house, "oh Emily, dear, you’re here."

"Yes mom, what did you need? I was enjoying my day out in nature."

"I am sure it can wait, honey. I need you to go fetch water."

"Why can’t Austin or Lavinia do it?"

As if on cue the blonde made her appearance from behind Emily’s mother with what Emily deemed her trademark adorable frown since they were kids, "I did it yesterday and Austin is a man. He can’t do it."

"Right, you would believe he would be perfect for it since men’s are always bragging about themselves being strong, stronger than women, when in fact they are staying all day behind a desk while women do all the physical, exhausting stuff."

"You’re talking nonsense sweetheart." Emily rolled her eyes right in her mother’s face and grabbed the two empty buckets she had in her hands and trudged begrudgingly outside her house to walk towards the well to go fetch water as her mother asked her to.

-

"Oh no, I’m so sorry! I should’ve watched where I was going! Oh no, your dress is completely drenched, here let me help you." In mere seconds Emily bumped accidentally into a girl carrying four buckets full of water, resulting in one of them spilling over her blu navy dress, but got also got flooded with a multitude of rushed words of regret and of apology, an adorable sight that made Emily forget about her dress being completely drenched in the late summer weather.

"Don’t worry, it’s totally fine. I wasn’t watching where I was going, I had my head elsewhere. So I should be the one apologizing." Emily smiled reassuringly at the distressed girl as she desperately tried to find something to dry Emily’s dress.

"No, no. It was my fault!"

Emily tried to look at the girl’s face but it was completely covered by her hair cascading in front of it as she had her head down in search of a cloth in her small apron’s pocket she had around her hips, "I insist on taking the blame. Hey, please stop worrying. It will dry up eventually, it’s not a big deal."

"No, no. It should be here. I had it here an hour ago!"

"Hey, please. Relax, take a deep breath." Emily tried to calm the girl down and for the first time she seemed to do listen to her, sighing loudly as she took her hands out of her apron’s pocket and lifted her head up slowly.

Emily felt like the world stopped existing for just a moment when her eyes met the girl’s ones, establishing a connection that send a thrill down her spine and that lighted up her whole body, a sensation she had never felt before. "Are you okay?"

Emily took her time to commit to memory every single feature on the girl’s face, from the perfect slope of her nose to the soft bump of her cheekbones, from the gentle but still defined angle of her jaw, to the smooth surface of her chin and finally focusing all her attention on the plumpness of her velvety lips. Emily almost got lost again in the vastness of the girl’s eyes when she met them again that she almost forgot to answer the girl’s question, making her appear a bit dumb in front of her for gawking at her, "yeah, yes. I’m fine. Totally fine. Great. Hm-." Emily cleared her throat to stop herself from embarrassing herself some more continued with a regained composure, "how about you? Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I am fine. Thank you."

"Good, I’m glad to hear that." Emily smiled gently at the girl before shaking her head as if she was the dumbest person on earth, "I’m Emily by the way."

"Y/N." The girl smiled gently at the poet while putting a strand of hair that fell in front of her face behind her ear, a gesture that made Emily’s brain melt as she took in the girl’s beauty.

"Y/N." Emily repeated, testing the girl’s name out, feeling a warmth spreading throughout her entire body as the name rolled over her tongue. "I like it. Y/N. It’s a really pretty name."

"Thank you. Emily is a great name too."

"Yeah, it has a Latin origin, it-."

"It’s a Roman name. It means laborious and eager among other things." Y/N interjected the brunette before she could speak and Emily had never felt so infatuated by someone in so little time.

"Yeah, how do you know that?"

"I like reading a lot. I do it whenever I can." Emily didn’t know it could have been possibile being interested in someone in so very little time, but she was starting to feel something for this girl, something she had only felt for one person only before.

"I like that too, a lot. What are you reading right now?"

"I just finished reading ‘The Old Curiosity Shop’ by Dickens. I liked it. What about you?"

"I am in the middle of reading The Divine Comedy by Dante. I’m halfway through Inferno."

"Oh I liked it a lot even though Purgatorio and Paradiso are just as beautiful. I mean his writing style gets more complex and more refined after each part."

Emily felt like she was floating through a new dimension where only Y/N and her existed, instigating a myriad of new emotions Emily never felt before that mixed with a few ones she only felt for Sue. "Wow, I-. I don’t know what to say. It’s the first time I hear someone talk about Dante’s amazing work without it being repeated from some stupid journalist’s review. No one really care to really read it. Or at least comprehend its real meaning behind his words."

"Because not everyone can see through what’s in front of them. There’s beauty hidden in every single thing we know, creating something new that just awaits to be discovered, studied. Most people just waits for someone else to do it." Y/N reasoned with a shrug, like she just didn’t made Emily fall madly in love with her brain.

"Wow- I- I feel like you had been in my mind and found a way to make it speak for itself. You-."

"Y/N! Are you ready to go?!" The poet got interrupted by a loud voice coming from behind Emily and when she turned around to look at who was yelling, she found a middle-aged woman with blonde hair styled in a perfect, classy bun, a blue dress with an apron on her front similar to Y/N’s one waving at her from the grocery’s shop a few feet from them.

"Sorry, I need to go. It was great talking with you Emily."

Emily felt her stomach drop at the aspect of having to part ways with Y/N, trying to find a way to prolong their time together. As she closed herself in her mind to think she didn’t notice Y/N refilling the bucket she unwillingly spilled over Emily and walked towards the woman, saluting Emily with a small nod. The gesture pulled Emily out of her thoughts and coming up empty-handed with ideas to make Y/N stay with her a bit longer, she could only sigh out loud, resigned but also completely smitten for the Y/H/C girl, before letting out softly, "the pleasure was all mine Y/N."

-

"Emily, where is the water?"

"What?" Emily got ripped out of her own thoughts full of the mysterious and intriguing Y/N by her mother as soon as she entered her house, her mother stopping her in their small hallway in front of the door and the living rooms before she could run upstairs and let her thoughts flow freely as she wrote a poem or two.

"The water Emily. I sent you fetching water an hour ago. Where is it?"

"Oh shit!" Emily just then noticed she came home empty-handed, she forgot her empty buckets at the well after her encounter with Y/N. "I forgot them at the well!"

"How?! You went there just for fetching water. How did you manage to forget that Emily?"

"I- I gotta go. Later!"

"Emily!"

"I don’t have time mom, I need to-." Emily got stopped mid-sentence and in her track towards her house’s door by her mother’s authoritative voice calling her from the living room.

"Emily! Come here, now."

"Mom, I have everything under control. I got distracted and I forgot the buckets there. I will be quick. I will go get them, fetch water and come back here." Emily explained quickly, hoping her mother wouldn’t be so much angry at herself for not doing what she asked her to do and getting ready for her scolding when she sighed out loud, pinched the bridge of her nose angrily and closed her eyes.

"It’s not that Emily. You are always avoiding doing chores, always complaining about them and never doing them in the end. It’s time for you to grow up. You will need to know how to be a proper housewife."

"But mom, I-."

"No buts." Emily’s mother ended their discussion with those final words spoken with authority and nodded at her daughter when she nodded dejected at her not winning this argument. "Since Lavinia is going to get a few groceries from the store and I’m going with her with the carriage, I’m going to go fetch water, while you’ll go into your room and think about what you did."

"Okay, mom. I’m so sorry." Emily’s mother smiled gently at her daughter for apologizing and laid a soft kiss on her forehead before she walked towards the stairs that would led to the first floor where the bedrooms were. She smiled apologetically at her mother once again but before she could go up the stairs and into her room to think and most importantly let her mind flow with writing her poems, she got stopped in her tracks.

"What is happening here?" Emily turned around at the sound of her father’s voice reaching her ears as he made his way into the living room after exiting his office, where he had been holed up the whole morning.

"Edward, your daughter Emily this morning was tasked to go fetch water and after disappearing for more than an hour, she also forgot our buckets at the well. Unbelievable!" Emily hung her head down in shame and closed her eyes to get herself ready for one of her father’s scoldings, not particularly thrilled on having her good mood ruined right now, but she had a feeling it was coming anyway as it was well due after her forgetting their buckets at the well.

"But also hilarious." Emily lifted her head up in shock after hearing her father’s words, not exactly expecting them, and widened her eyes comically. What was actually hilarious to Emily was her mother’s bewildered expression that stretched over her face as she stared in shock at her father. If she wasn’t already walking on thin ice, she would have laughed at her mother’s expression, so she kept quiet and listened to the conversation unfolding in front of her.

"Excuse me, dear, what?!"

"Oh c’mon, Mrs. Dickinson. You have to admit, it’s funny." Emily laughed nervously when her father started laughing loudly while looking at her mother then at her.

"But-." Emily bit on her bottom lip to prevent her smile to widen when her mother tried to reason with her father but he waved her off with a few chuckles still coming out of his lips.

"Oh, come on now Mrs. Dickinson. I know you want to laugh." Edward smiled at his wife and pointed his finger at the blonde woman, not putting it down until she saw a small grin making its way onto the woman’s lips, "ah there it is!"

"Oh dear, always finding a way to laugh! Anyway, I’m going with Lavinia to the grocery store and to retrieve our buckets to fetch water for dinner tonight."

"Great, I’m coming with you girls. I need to go to speak to Ronald about a really important matter I worked on this morning."

"Oh that’s wonderful, dear. Emily, why don’t you make it up to us by starting dinner?" Emily almost let her jaw drop down on the floor at her mother’s request. She knew she wasn’t a great cook, she hated cooking and something always ended up catching fire. But she also knew this was her mother’s way to tell her she wasn’t forgiven for the fetching water fiasco as her father made it sound and as much as she wanted to fight over it, she knew there wasn’t a way out of this. Oh, well it was worth a try.

"Mom, I don’t th-."

"Oh what a wonderful idea Mrs. Dickinson! I can’t wait to taste what you will prepare for us Emily! Let’s go now, we are gonna be late!"

Emily sighed dejected while making her way towards the kitchen to start up dinner and as she tried to not set the whole house on fire, she let her mind fill with the few memories she had of Y/N. She was fascinating, captivating, alluring. She piqued Emily’s interest with just a few words and when Y/N expressed her passion for books, ignited a fire in Emily that had been extinguished since she had broken things off with Sue. Could that mean something? Emily was sure she felt their souls connect in such a raw and deep way she had never experienced before, but would that be enough for Y/N as it was for her? As she started baking the freshly made loaf of bread, a sudden need to know if Y/N felt the same hit her and with a renewed determination she set her mind to try to encounter the Y/H/C girl the next morning.

-

"Good morning my dear mother." Emily entered the kitchen with a grin so bright they could have used it to light up the whole house at night, arousing suspects from her mother that stared at her warily as she watched her make her way towards her as she prepared their breakfast.

"Emily, good morning to you too. Did something happen that put you in a good mood?"

"Nothing in particular. I just woke up like this today. Do you need help? I still want to make it up to you again for yesterday. Maybe I can go fetch the water again? This time I will bring back the buckets, I promise." Emily tried to be as subtle as she could without making her mother ask the real reasons behind her intentions on wanting to go fetch water, finishing with a joke to sell it better.

"Oh sweety, what a wonderful idea. You can help me with putting everything in the living room. And don’t worry about fetching water, Vinnie already went this morning."

With her heart sinking down in her stomach, she reluctantly grabbed the tray full of their breakfast her mother already prepared to the living room, trudging a bit in her steps as she tried to think of another strategy to meet Y/N again.

-

"Emily can you please help me with dinner?"

"I can’t mom, I need to write. I don’t have time to help you with dinner or chores."

"Well, I am sure it can wait." Emily snorted under her breath at her mother’s rebuttal as she made her way into her room.

"No mom, it sadly can’t. When words flow out of me I can’t stop them or ask them to wait to help with chores."

"It’s worth a try, isn’t it? I need help Emily, Vinnie is setting the table after cleaning the house, so you’re the one who will help me. C’mon, it will be fun!"

"I’m sure it will, but I really can’t right now. It would be so much easier if we get a housemaid to help you out."

"You are talking nonsense Emily, I am perfectly capable of doing it all by myself and with the help of my daughters everything can be done faster, so now please come down with me and help me out. You will write later." Emily sighed out as she let her pencil fall down on her desk, the soft clinking sound of the pencil hitting the wooden surface of her desk calmed Emily just a little, making a quick grin appear on her lips before a small frown took its place. The poet sat up slowly from her desk, placing both of her hands on it to slowly stand up, the screeching sound of the chair moving back filling the sudden silent room as her mother watched her movements with rapt attention.

"I will help you for just a bit, but I can’t take too long on helping you with chores because I’m really trying to finish a poem."

"That’s the spirit! C’mon honey, I will show you how to make the perfect roasted chicken that will make you the perfect housewife every gentleman would love to marry."

More like gentlewoman. Emily added in her mind and as soon as that thought came into her mind, Y/N appeared right after as she smiled lovingly at her. That instantly made Emily stop in her tracks on the stairs, watching blankly her mother’s back as she descended the stairs and rambled about roasted chicken Emily wasn’t interested in listening at the moment. What made Emily freeze in her spot was the fact that for the first time since she could remember she didn’t imagine marrying Sue. She imagined Y/N. And that thought excited her to no end, instead of scaring her. "Shit." Emily sighed dopily as she smiled with her eyes full of love as another image of Y/N waving at her entered her mind.

"Emily, hurry up!" Emily let her dumb smile linger a few more seconds on her features before shaking her head and resuming her way down the stairs to join her mother in the kitchen and help her with their dinner.

-

"We should hire a maid to help mom out in the house."

"What?"

"We should hire a maid to help mom out in the house."

"I heard you the first time dear, I was just shocked by the request." Edward smiled gently at her daughter repeating herself before going back to being serious as he regarded her with a curious look in his features. "Why should we hire a maid? Your mother is perfectly capable of doing a good job here."

"Ah- a great job dear! I told you this earlier Emily. We don’t need a maid."

"But it would be so much easier for you. For all of us! She would help mom with chores so she doesn’t tire herself out every single day. And she would do a lot of things mom asks me or Vinnie to do. C’mon dad, think about it!"

"Well-."

"Edward you are not seriously considering it, aren’t you?"

"Honey, she is not completely wrong. She would help you out, you know I hate how much tired you are at the end of the day."

They kept discussing it for a few more minutes as they enjoyed their dinner but when the dessert came, her mother served it in an unsettling silence so they moved onto a new subject Emily wasn’t interested in listening. As she ate her dessert she couldn’t help but let her eyes linger on her mother a few times and observed her as she stayed quiet for the rest of the dinner with a sad expression on her features. Despite her mother not taking assuming a maid to help her too well, Emily was sure she will come around eventually. Emily knew she was asking to hire a maid to have more time to write but she also really wanted her to help her mother and ease her load of work to do in the house.

-

"Good morning dear family."

"Good morning to you too Edward." Emily’s mother smiled widely at her husband as she finished serving everybody’s breakfast before her grin got ten times wider and brighter when Edward leaned over and kissed her gently.

"Hm, I can smell so many delicious things today." Emily watched as her father sat down in his chair and brought up his newspaper to read the news, his smile never dampening.

"I can see you are in a good mood this morning, dear."

"Because I am."

"I’m glad to hear that, honey."

"How is my family doing this morning?" Edward brought his newspaper down after reading a few paragraphs of the first news and took a sip of his tea, then moving onto taking a bite of her wife’s famous scones, humming in satisfaction at the taste.

"I am good dad, I just finished reading an article about financial management that I found pretty interesting." Austin was the first to speak up after taking a sip of his own tea, smiling at his father as he did so when he nodded at him in understanding.

"And what about my girls?"

"Last night I finished sewing a pillow for my cat, he loves it!" Lavinia announced with a bright grin, her enthusiasm filling the room as everyone at the table smiled at the ecstatic blonde.

"I finished a few poems I was working on."

"That’s great guys, I see everyone is proud of their achievements! But now let’s move on why I am in a good mood today. There is a reason and that said reason is- after considering it for the last few days, I decided that we will hire a maid to help in the house!"

"What?!" Everyone exclaimed at the table at the same time with excited tones, except for Mrs. Dickinson, who looked at her husband like he went completely nuts.

"Yeah!" Edward smiled alongside his son and daughters, not noticing her wife’s expression yet, "I thought about it and in the end it was a really great idea Emily!"

"I’m so happy to hear that dad!"

"Honey, why are you doing this?" Mrs. Dickinson finally found her voice to speak up and asked in a strained tone the first thing that came up in her hazed mind still shocked from the news Edward delivered.

"Oh dear, it will be good for the house and for you. You tire yourself up too much for this house."

"But- I’m fine."

"I know you want to make it look like it, but I know some days are really stressful. I see how spent you are after those days at night. I’m doing this for you too!" Edward explained calmly as he enjoyed his breakfast, his good mood still on.

"Yeah, I can be a little tired, but a great night of sleep sweeps it all away and restores my energy back."

"I am sure of that, but it will good! We can do more small trips or spend days differently when I am not working and you’re not thinking about doing any kind of chore in the house."

"Yeah, mom, it will be good for everyone here, you’ll see!" Austin butted in with a cheerful tone and nodded at her mother still looking worried and skeptic.

"Yeah mom, you can finally focus on yourself a bit more." Lavinia then decided to add her thoughts too, trying to encourage her mother on relaxing on this topic, although she knew it was a sore spot since she always aspired to be a great housewife and having a maid restrained her from doing that in her mind.

"Mom, think about it, you can find a new hobby with the extra free time you will have!" It was Emily this time that spoke up, encouraging her mother with a brighter-than-the-sun grin that unfortunately her mother didn’t reciprocate as she stayed frozen in her chair with her eyebrows furrowed together and a sad expression on her features.

"See? The kids have all good points!" Edward looked at his wife with a wide grin, nodding at her encouragingly, "anyway, the decision is already made. They are coming here tonight."

"They?" Emily wanted to snort under her breath at the outraged tone her mother used to pose the question to her father, but decided to stay still for once and enjoy the show in front of her.

"Yeah, two of them. One of my dearest friends is moving to Minnesota and he doesn’t need his maids anymore since he won’t take them with him, so they are coming here. He told me they are the best maids in Amherst. An Irish woman and her niece."

"That’s so exciting!" Lavinia exclaimed as she clapped her hands enthusiastically, making Emily and Austin smile fondly at her.

-

"Ah, good evening! Come inside please!"

"Good evening Mr. Dickinson." Emily could hear from downstairs his father greeting guests at the door but she shrugged and went back to her poem, but for some reason her attention shifted back to the new guests in their house and after a few more attempt of focusing to write a few more lines in vain, the poet gave up and sighed out loud as she placed everything in her small drawer in her desk, before sitting up from the chair and making her way downstairs to greet their guests.

"We’re so happy to have you here!"

"The pleasure is all ours Mr. Dickinson." An Irish accent waved through the air, increasing Emily’s curiosity and made her almost sprint down the stairs to go see the new maids as soon as she realized who their guests were.

"Oh Lavinia, come here. They are our new maids."

"Nice to meet you!"

"Nice to meet you Miss Dickinson." Something like a familiar voice reached Emily’s ears as she descended the last few steps and almost fell down of them when she got at the top of the last set of stairs and her eyes met with a pair of wonderful, familiar irises.

"The pleasure is all mine, trust me!"

"Ah, Emily! You are here too. They are our new maids."

"Oh hello Miss Dickinson."

"Good evening Miss Dickinson."

"H-hello. Just call me Emily, please." The poet found the strength to descend the last few steps and even talk coherently before walking slowly towards the two new guests in her house, stopping right beside her father.

"You will meet my son soon. He is coming here with his wife tonight. And about my wife, I really don’t know where she is." Edward joked, making the two guests laugh softly under their breath, clear, wide smiles etched on their lips. "Anyway, they are Mrs. Maggie and Miss Y/N."

"It’s a real pleasure meeting you both." Lavinia butted in sincerely and nodded at them softly, meanwhile Emily still tried to properly kickstart her brain.

"It’s a pleasure for me too. I hope you will enjoy staying here."

"Oh Miss Dickinson, I am sure it will be amazing staying here." Maggie countered back with a warm grin, mirrored by Y/N right after with a small nod of her head.

"Alright, girls would you mind showing them around?"

"I need to finish a few things for my art lesson tomorrow." Lavinia admitted dejectedly and the fact that she could potentially be alone with Y/N again thrilled Emily to no end.

"I can show them around the house, no problem Vinnie. Dad we will see you later."

"Okay, have fun!" Emily smiled and nodded at her father before dorkily lifting her thumb up and saluted him before signaling Y/N and Maggie to follow her in the kitchen.

"Alright, this is the kitchen. A place my mom likes to call her kingdom." Emily joked with a soft snort that morphed into a squeal when her mother appeared out of nowhere.

"That’s right dear."

"Mom! You scared our guests!"

"I think you were the most scared here, honey." Emily rolled her eyes at her mother’s teasing and shook her head with an amused smile.

"Mom, they are Y/N and Maggie. Our new maids."

"Nice to meet you Mrs. Dickinson." Y/N was the first to speak up, trying to look cool when inside she was freaking out about meeting Emily again. She thought she would’ve never encountered her again.

"It’s a pleasure to meet you Mrs. Dickinson."

"You are so young Maggie." Emily smiled subtly as she sunk her teeth on her bottom lip to prevent to be caught laughing about her mother being so caught up in being mad for having maids in their house that she didn’t even pay attention remember their names, since she called Y/N Maggie.

"Mom, she is Y/N. She is Maggie." Emily emphasized the word ‘she’ as she pointed to the redhead and noticed, to her surprise, that both of their guests had amusement on their faces.

"Oh sorry, I have a terrible headache and I do not have my usual laser focused attention on anything today." Emily’s mother tried to cover up her mistake with a made up lie and laughed softly to light the air up quickly.

"Ah you should see me with an headache, I don’t even walk straight. I bump into things all the time." The redhead joked before moving on telling Emily’s mother an old Irish remedy for headache.

-

After a delicious dinner her mother prepared Y/N and Maggie disappeared into the kitchen to clean everything up, despite her mother’s protests, who in the end stayed still in her loveseat in the living room. The whole family stayed about an half an hour to chat, before everyone called it a night, saying goodbye to Sue and Austin, before going upstairs to sleep. Emily stayed in the living room a little bit more to pretend to read, staring at the words written on her book, as she waited for the perfect moment to ‘casually bump’ into Y/N before she could go to sleep in her room. Luckily she didn’t have to wait too long. "Go to bed aunt Maggie. We are almost done. I can finish the last touches myself."

"Are you sure?" Emily could hear the hesitation in Maggie’s tone, not wanting her niece to finish alone, but she could already picture Y/N protest with a resolute nod despite not knowing the girl at all except for a few details they shared a few days prior.

"I am sure auntie. Go. I will finish this up quickly and I will go to sleep too."

"Okay munchkin. Don’t wear yourself out. We have to wake up early tomorrow for breakfast."

"I won’t. Goodnight auntie."

"Goodnight Y/N/N." Emily immediately moved herself from her position on the loveseat as she was leaning over to take a small peak from the kitchen and eavesdrop as good as she could and pretended to casually read before Maggie could catch her. "Oh Miss Dickinson, still up?"

"Oh hey, Maggie. Yeah, I couldn’t sleep so I decided to read for a bit hoping sleep to find me."

"Ah, you should try the concoction my uncle used to make me when I couldn’t sleep. It was disgusting but it always made me sleep like a baby." Maggie delivered another one of her great and funny anecdotes to give her personal advice and Emily smiled kindly up at her as she caressed the pages of her book.

"One of these days you could make me some and we will see if it works for me too!"

"Alright. Goodnight Miss Dickinson."

"Goodnight Maggie." Emily smiled widely at the redhead before watching her walk up the stairs until she disappeared behind the wall. Emily stayed still for a few more seconds, listening for Maggie’s room’s door to close before immediately closing her book and sitting up, placed the book back in its designated place and almost sprinted into the kitchen, excited to finally spend some time alone with Y/N. She had been trying to do that for the whole evening, but she always had something to do with someone always in the way.

"Spying on people is wrong Miss Dickinson." Emily jumped up in fright as she had been caught staring from the threshold of the kitchen Y/N putting the plates they used during their dinner in the cabinet on top of the counter.

"Sorry, I was watching you work."

"Yeah, I noticed it." Emily smiled as her teeth sunk in her bottom lip at Y/N’s sarcastic counter back and walked into the kitchen, stopping right in front of Y/N, the kitchen’s wooden table separating them. The fire in the fireplace was still crackling softly in the silent room, bathing the room with an orange light that highlighted Y/N’s Y/E/C irises and almost made Emily faint at such ethereal beauty.

"Have you finished yet? You must be tired."

"I am, just a bit, but I am almost finished."

"Do you need some help?" Emily asked in hope Y/N would say yes, so she could prove to her she wasn’t the snotty rich girl that didn’t want to help in her house with chores. She didn’t exactly know why, but she just wanted to do it.

"No don’t worry. Aren’t you tired?"

"Not at all, I tend to have a lot of energy at night."

"Oh so you sleep during the day?"

"Not really. I am not a morning person, but I don’t oversleep."

"Oh I see." Emily detected a sarcastic lilt in Y/N’s tone and immediately wanted to prove to Y/N she wasn’t a lazy person.

"I swear I am not! Do you remember when we met a few days ago? It was around 7 a.m.! That was early in the morning!"

"Yeah, but I also remember that after that you forgot your buckets at the well." Y/N teased making Emily drop her jaw on the floor flabbergasted, making Y/N snort under her breath.

"I-I was distracted! I wanted to get them back but my mother prevented me to and did it herself."

"Yeah, I saw her." Y/N still had an amused grin on her lips but Emily could see the entertainment in her eyes that made Emily realize she was just messing with her and for a mysterious reason Emily wanted her to keep going, she wanted to be the subject of her teasing and entertainment just to see her smile.

"I tried to find you again at the well the next few days but I never did."

"Yeah, I was busy in the house helping Mr. Peterson with packing all his family’s stuff for their moving."

"Oh, yeah. That makes sense." Emily nodded in understanding before detaching her eyes from Y/N’s magnetic ones and focused instead on her wringing hands.

"Did you finish Dante’s Divina Commedia?"

"Yeah, last night actually. This morning I tried to find something new to start but nothing piqued my interest." Emily admitted after moving her gaze back on Y/N, who now placed the cloth she had previously in her hands neatly folded on the table.

"Ah I see. It happens to me all the time."

"Do you have some recommendations?"

"Hm, I need to think about it. I am a little bit tired and I can’t actually think about anything worth your while right now." Y/N chuckled after finishing speaking as she shyly made her way towards Emily, who stood a few feet from her.

"Oh then I won’t keep you away from sleeping."

"No, no. Don’t worry. I like talking to you but for now, as late as it is, I would like to keep our conversation as simple as possible."

"That’s fine by me."

"Do you want to stay here or-."

Emily didn’t let Y/N finish as she spoke up without thinking, blurting words out without any control, "we can go up to my room."

Y/N seemed taken aback for a few quick moments before a mischievous grin replaced the confused frown she had on, "oh I see where this is going."

"What-? OH! NO, NO, NO, NO! Y/N!" Emily exclaimed in shock before slapping Y/N’s shoulder gently, watching as she snickered under her breath at her joke.

"What?! It was a legit reaction from me!"

"I am not trying to seduce you!" But I would like to. Emily thought wistfully in her head as she tried to look as shocked as she felt a few seconds prior instead of looking like a kicked puppy yearning for cuddles.

"That’s not what your words sounded like Miss Dickinson."

"Ugh, you are unbelievable!"

"Let’s go now." Y/N shook her head with a small chuckle, making Emily’s heart clench at her cuteness.

"I-Okay. But it’s not done!"

"Whatever, now let’s go!"

"Okay, okay. Relax." The two made their way up the stairs as quietly as they could since everyone was already asleep and as soon as Emily closed the door behind herself, she felt butterflies fly around her stomach in excitement. She was with Y/N, in her bedroom, alone.

"Nice room." Y/N admitted as she took Emily’s bedroom in, walking around the small room to try to take in as much details about Emily as she could in the softly lit room.

"Thank you. You can sit on my bed, you are tired. I will take the chair."

"I can’t sit down Emily. I am your maid."

"I don’t care."

"I am serious Emily. It won’t be a problem-." Emily stopped Y/N mid-sentence by walking towards her and stopping right in front of her before placing her hands on her shoulders and pushing her gently backwards until the back of her knees touched her mattress, then she pushed her down and made her sit on the bed.

"There, it wasn’t so bad, was it?" Emily smirked proudly down at a shocked Y/N and following the bold thrill she had been hit on, she sat right beside Y/N and bumped their shoulders together.

"You are always so full of surprises Miss Dickinson." Y/N admitted and Emily called herself crazy because she saw Y/N blush slightly under the soft light coming from the fireplace. It must be her infatuated mind playing her games.

"It’s something you need to get used to from now on."

"Hm, I like it though."

"I’m glad to hear that." For a moment they just stood there, sat in silence in Emily’s room, gazing into each other’s eyes as small smiles adorned their features.

"I noticed all those small scraps of paper on your desk, what are those for?"

"Oh I write my poems on them. I am actually working on a poem right now."

"Are you serious?"

"Very." Emily nodded and smiled as she pushed her chest up proudly, "do you want to read a few things I’ve written?"

"Oh yeah! Absolutely!"

"Okay then." Emily sat up from her bed and walked towards her desk, opened the small drawer and grabbed a few poems she was sure Y/N would’ve liked, of course she didn’t grab the few ones she wrote about her.

"Wow, there are so many!"

"Yeah!" Emily smiled brightly like a kid on Christmas Day, just like every time she talked about her poems, and watching Y/N’s eyes fill with excitement warmed her heart.

"I can’t wait to read them!"

"Okay, which one do you want to start with?"

"I don’t know, you are the poet. You should tell me."

"I- I don’t actually know! Let me think- I want you to start with-." Emily trailed off to pick one out of the five ones she brought to Y/N as she sat back down on the bed, "this one, but then I also want you to read this one first." Emily pointed to another poem with her pointer finger as she held the previous poem she choose in her hand and smiled sheepishly at Y/N.

"Okay, let’s try with this. What is the poem you are the most proud of. Don’t think too much. Just point at it."

"Okay, hm- this one then."

"Alright." Y/N grabbed the poem Emily gave her and opened the small folded up paper, reading the words written in Emily’s elegant but a bit messy handwriting. The edges of the paper were a little bit dirty with ink but it only made the poem ten times better, full of raw emotions and vulnerability.

"What do you think?" Emily asked anxiously after a few minutes passed by and Y/N haven’t opened her mouth yet, her Y/E/C irises glued on the small piece of paper and her face completely blank, making reading her face a really difficult task for the poet.

"I-I-. It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever read, Emily. It’s so raw, so real. It opened my mind to new possibilities, it made my eyes see the world from another point of view. It felt like I was in your mind and I could see the world how you see it."

"Do you think so?"

"Absolutely!" Emily felt tears prickle behind her eyes at Y/N’s words, something really rare despite how emotional Emily was about her poems. She was very proud of them and when people complimented them it only helps to boost her self-esteem but it never happened that just a few words made her almost cry. Y/N was really special.

"Thank you. Truly." Emily smiled appreciatively at Y/N as she tried with all her might to not cry in front of Y/N. "No one ever complimented my poems that way."

"Well people are dumb and stupid. You are an amazing writer and your poems will change lives." Emily smiled bittersweetly at that as she picked at a thumbnail nervously. Those words. She recalled them being said by Sue.

"Yeah, I already heard that. Someone already told me."

"And why do you not believe in them?"

"It’s not that I don’t believe in them." Emily started slowly, swallowing the small lump that immediately formed in her throat as her mind filled with memories of Sue, of all the great time she spent with her, of how much she cared for her. "It’s just that- the person that told me that doesn’t tell me those words anymore."

"Why? Did they change their minds?"

"No absolutely not. We just- grew apart I think. She has a new life now. I’m not a part of it anymore."

"Do you want to talk about it?" Y/N asked in a soft voice, leaning her head to the side, in a cute manner Emily noted, and looking at Emily with a gentle gaze as soon as she noticed the poet’s sad expression on her features.

"Not right now. I will, I trust you. I just- I don’t want to ruin the mood or like- annoy you."

"You won’t ever annoy me Emily Dickinson. You have such a way with words that you make listening to you alluring." Emily felt her eyes prickle slightly with unshed tears again as she listened to Y/N’s words and smiled appreciatively at her.

"I- I don’t know what to say. I-thank you."

"You don’t need to thank me Emily. I mean that. I hope you know I am sincere."

"I know, I can sense it from your voice and your eyes." Emily pointed her words out with her brown eyes as she glued them to Y/N’s Y/E/C irises, noticing Y/N swallowing almost imperceptibly at the bold gesture but decided to not comment on it.

"You know-." Y/N started after a few moments of them just staring into each other eyes, both feeling the air around them charge with an unknown electricity but not dwelling or thinking about it too much, but got cut off by a big yawn. She promptly covered her mouth with her hand before placing it back on her lap and smiling embarrassedly at Emily with a small blush on her cheeks, "sorry, I am a bit tired."

"Don’t apologize. I should be the one apologizing for keeping you up this late at night after the busy day you had. Not to mention the busy early day you will have tomorrow. Shit, I am so sorry." Emily grimaced after she realized she had been keeping Y/N from her well-needed sleep, but Y/N, the cute self she is, only shook her head gently.

"No, no, no, Emily. It’s fine. I wanted to spend some time with you too."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive." Y/N smiled widely at Emily before starting to get up from her bed, "well, I should go to sleep now. I need to be up at 6 a.m. to start preparing breakfast."

"Do you need some help with that tomorrow morning?"

"Another one of these questions. Hm, are you sure you really needed a maid? You seem to want to do all these chores by yourself." Y/N questioned with a mocking tone as a small, entertained smirk appeared on her lips, mirth clear in her Y/E/C irises as they eyed Emily teasingly.

"I just-." Emily trailed off to ponder her options. She could easily lie about her real intentions behind her question or she could be bold for once and actually tell she just want to spend as much time as she could with Y/N to get to know her. She decided to be bold for once. She was tired not listening to her heart’s desires. "I like your company and I really want to spend more time with you."

"Oh Emily, we will spend more time together, I promise. My aunt Maggie established a few shifts between us. I have an early morning but I work till 6 p.m., then I’m done for the day. We can do something together after dinner like tonight." Y/N suggested as she idly played with her fingers, anticipation filling her whole body as she waited for Emily’s reaction to her suggestion.

"That would be great!" Emily exclaimed excitedly and had to really stop herself from jumping up and down in happiness at the prospect of spending more time with Y/N, just sticking on grinning widely at Y/N, who did the same.

"Okay then. Goodnight." Y/N nodded towards Emily and turned around to open the door, before turning her head back around to look at Emily once again, waiting her answer.

"Goodnight Y/N. Sleep well."

"You too."

Y/N opened the door completely and exited the room, smiled at Emily one more time before closing the door, sauntering into her room, across from her aunt’s one. As soon as the door closed, Emily sighed out dreamily and let herself fall on her mattress with a dopey smile on her lips, the soft thud filling the silence in the room. "Y/N." She whispered under her breath before closing her eyes and let her mind be filled with images of Y/N as she let sleep take over her.

-

"Good morning!" Emily exclaimed as soon as she entered the living room, her face illuminated by a big grin that lighted up the whole room, making her whole family, already seated at the table, look at her curiously.

"Someone is in a great mood today." Edward pointed out after he pushed his newspaper down and took a look at her daughter.

"I just slept good, that’s all."

"You are right on time honey, I was just telling your father that Austin and Sue will join us for dinner tonight again." Emily spit the sip of tea she was drinking at the news, not noticing the small snort that left Y/N’s mouth as she served the poet her breakfast, luckily only Emily heard that.

"What?"

"Isn’t it amazing? It’s been too long since they had been here with us. They are so busy with their sophisticated parties these days. It’s a rare occasion having them joining us for two nights in a row."

"Parties I am paying." Edward pointed out making Emily grunt in acknowledgement. She was avoiding Sue at all costs and she was glad the night prior they were all busy chatting, it made avoiding Sue easier.

"Parties we are not invited to. Em you are Sue’s best friend, why don’t you ask her to invite us?" Lavinia lamented with a whining tone, pushing gently on her sister’s shoulder but then crossing her arms stubbornly when Emily just gently shook her head.

"She has new friends now. She is not interested in hanging out with us anymore." Y/N couldn’t help but notice the bittersweet tone Emily used as she addressed her sister’s question and the sad expression that flitted over her features for just over a second before it got covered by a calculated blank expression, but she couldn’t dwell on it too much as she kept serving breakfast to the Dickinson family, so she made a mental note to ask Emily about it that night.

"Speaking of friends, Emily!" Emily’s mother caught the poet’s attention and continued only when she met her eyes, "I met George this morning at the grocery store. He is such a nice guy."

"I know where this is going mom. I’m not going to marry him. He is a great friend. That’s all." Y/N missed Emily’s mother counter back and she didn’t hear the rest of the conversation going between Emily and her mother as she returned to the kitchen to tidy up the kitchen a bit before starting up lunch, not having the time to notice her stomach jumping up in happiness at Emily refusing to marry her friend.

-

"Are you sure? I can help you with all this mess."

"Oh don’t worry Y/N/N, go get some rest. You had a very stressful day. It’s my turn now." Maggie assured her niece, waving her off as she tidied up the kitchen after the Dickinson’s dinner. "No, don’t try to convince me. Go!"

"Thank you. Goodnight."

"G’night."

Y/N exited the kitchen to go up the stairs and to her room, but unfortunately she had to pass by the living room where the Dickinson family was still chatting after their dinner. Y/N sighed out of relief when no one seemed to notice her presence and kept minding their business and continued her quiet way up the stairs, a little bit sad that she probably won’t spend some time with Emily like they planned. Despite good mood being slightly dampened by hers and Emily’s plans ruined, when she arrived at her door she sighed out wistfully at the mere thought of finally getting rid of her devilish corset and lay on bed, but before she could open the door a hand touched her shoulder and squealed in fright. "Shit- Emily!"

"Sorry, sorry! I thought you heard me." Emily reasoned with an apologetic grimace, warming Y/N’s heart at the cute sight when she turned around and was met with puppy dog eyes.

"No, I was just thinking about getting rid of my corset."

"Oh I know the feeling. Looking forward on breathing normally again, hm?" Emily joked, making Y/N snort softly as she nodded in agreement with the poet.

"You have no idea."

"I have actually, because I need to get rid of my corset too. I can’t stand having it on me for one more second. Do you mind if I change in my night gown and then we can hang out?"

Y/N looked a bit taken aback from the question, not really expecting it from the brunette, "don’t you have your entire family downstairs?"

"Yeah, but they will be fine. I spent enough quality time with them, now it’s time to spend some quality time with you." Emily admitted with the slightest rosy tint on her cheeks and for once she was grateful for the lightly lit hallway so she can hide it from Y/N, who didn’t seem to notice Emily’s shy behavior.

"You make me feel too special Emily. Choosing me over your family, wow- that’s flattering." Y/N felt the need to half joke with her hand on her heart as she tried to not show how much touched she was by Emily’s words, since she only met the poet a few days prior and she was her maid.

"Get used to it! Now let’s go, I’ll help you with your corset then you’ll help me with mine."

"Hm, so eager to see me naked. Are you trying to seduce me Miss Dickinson?" Emily felt her face heat up in a millisecond at the question, not sure this time she could hide it from Y/N, her heart skipping a beat before starting beating fast in her chest as her mind filled with completely not innocent images of a naked Y/N on h-. "Emily? Are you okay?"

"Oh- I- I was-wasn’t. I was just trying to help, y’know since corsets are so difficult to take off. I always ask Lavinia to help me because I can’t reach the strings behind me, but she is busy right now so sh-."

"Emily, it’s okay. I was kidding, relax." Y/N giggled softly under her breath and bumped her left shoulder with Emily’s one to help the girl calm down, effectively stopping her ramblings.

"Oh I- I knew that." Emily laughed awkwardly for a few moments before clearing her throat, "should we, I don’t know go in your room or-?"

"Oh yes, let’s go, so I can help you undress." The last part of Y/N’s phrase sent Emily’s brain out of control as it replayed those words over and over again and each time it only helped melting her brain into mush as far from innocent images filed in.

"O-okay, let’s go." Y/N nodded and opened her bedroom door, letting Emily in first then following her, closing the door a moment later to have some privacy.

"How was dinner?" Y/N asked as she tried to look as nonchalant as she could despite having a really pretty girl in her bedroom about to undress her. Okay that totally sounded really dirty and out of context it could sound like what it actually sounded like, but we all know the truth, right?

"It was good. I liked your special bread recipe, you need to teach me how to make it."

"Oh yeah, it’s actually aunt Maggie’s recipe, but I added a little bit of raisins to enhance its flavor."

"They definitely do their work because it was the best bread I’ve ever tasted. Do not tell my mother that." Emily was quick to whisper the last part with the hand on the left side of her mouth, making Y/N laugh heartily at her goofiness.

"Noted." Y/N nodded as she still smiled widely at Emily, before starting playing with her fingers nervously. "Hm-."

"What?"

"I- I really can’t resist another second in this. Can you please-?" Y/N trailed off, letting the half-finished question hang in the electrified air between them as she stared at everything around the room but at Emily’s magnetic brown irises, moving her hands to signal behind her back to hint at Emily she needed to take off her corset.

"Wha- OH! Your corset. Of course. Yeah. Yeah." Emily nodded as she stumbled over her words, grimacing inwardly at her awkwardness. "Hm- turn around please. I’ll help you out."

"Oh yeah, thank you." Y/N held her breath as she turned around and almost gasped out loud when a pair of slightly cold hands touched the skin of her back.

"Sorry, my hands are a bit cold."

"Don’t worry." Y/N let out in a breath as she tried to calm herself down and not look like she was actually melting under Emily’s touch. After a few moments, Emily succeeded in loosening the strands of Y/N’s corset and the girl visibly relaxed, "letting your corset loose is like- the best feeling ever, right?"

"Yeah, every night I feel like my soul comes back in my body."

"Yeah, they should be banned. Why women need to suffer this much while men wear the comfiest clothes ever created?"

Emily listened to Y/N talking as she focused on her fingers unfastening Y/N’s corset, "that’s what I’m always thinking about. I tried pants once, it was a breakthrough. Never had on something so comfy in my life. Even my night gown isn’t that comfortable."

"Wait- you had the privilege to try pants on?"

"Yeah! Of course my parents don’t know that, but yeah."

"Wow, I always imagined trying them! How do they feel?"

"Amazing! And I even tried a blouse with a vest. No corset on. Even better than having pants on." Emily admitted and watched delighted Y/N’s face illuminate like a Christmas three, full of curiosity and wonder.

"Wow, that sounds amazing." Emily focused on untying the last strand of Y/N’s corset with shaky hands even if she tried to stop her body from shaking with her nerves, the mere thought Y/N was a few beats away from being naked short-circuited her brain. "I always wanted to try men’s clothes on."

"When do you have the whole afternoon free?" Emily asked with excitement shining brightly in her eyes, almost jumping up and down in her spot in anticipation as an idea popped in her mind.

"Thursday. I start at 18 Friday afternoon then."

"Alright, I really hoped it was Thursday afternoon. My parents and Lavinia are going to some kinda spa thing my aunt Lavinia organized, I’m not going because I’m not in the mood to go, even if my mom and Lavinia have been trying to convince me for days. But now that I know we can have almost 24 hours together I’m definitely not going."

"Wait- hold on, are you serious?"

"Yeah, I can even convince them to bring Maggie with them or let her have a few days off. I think they will be back Friday night or maybe Saturday morning, I need to ask them."

"Wow, I don’t know what to say!"

"Well, my dear Y/N get ready for these days all by ourselves." Emily announced excitedly, finding the same amount of excitement she had in her eyes into Y/N’s Y/E/C irises, warming her heart to no end. She was afraid she could come off as too eager to spend some alone time with Y/N, but the Y/H/C girl didn’t seem to mind or she didn’t pay attention to it and it reassured Emily.

"I can’t wait." Y/N exclaimed excitedly before shivering slightly as cold air hit her hot skin, "I should put something on quickly."

"Oh yeah, it’s freezing!"

The two girls stayed looking at each other for a few more seconds before Y/N moved her gaze away to find something to put on, Emily quickly turning around as her cheeks warmed up and her heart beat loudly in her ears. "Okay, we can go now."

"Oh thank God, I seriously need to get rid of this corset as well."

"We better hurry up then." Y/N snickered at Emily’s whiny tone, ushering her out her room.

"Have you ever thought-." Emily stopped in her tracks when, after looking at Y/N for a moment on her way out Y/N’s room, she turned back around to look where she was going to not trip over something and she was met with a pair of familiar eyes.

"Emily."

"Sue." Y/N exited the room right behind Emily and stopped in her tracks too when she was met with Sue’s confused and also a little bit… jealous? - Y/N couldn’t tell - eyes, but she sure she could feel a little bit of electricity palpable in the air, especially when Sue detached her eyes from her and stared Emily down with an hard gaze, silence filling the small hallway for a few long moments.

"I- I hoped we could talk a bit. It’s been a while."

"Oh- can we do it tomorrow? I am a bit tired."

"Oh- oh y-yeah, s-sure. How is it going with your poems?" Sue asked with a bit of a shaky voice, her eyes full of a nostalgic glint that intrigued Y/N to no end.

"It’s going just fine. They are my safe place where I can hide when I need to be away from the world."

"Yeah, I remember. They were the most powerful way for your heart and mind to speak out loud. I miss them." Sue admitted with a nostalgic tilt in her tone that kept fueling Y/N’s curiosity about the strange dynamic that Emily and Sue shared.

"Well you decided you didn’t want them anymore. So it’s a bit hypocritical missing them, don’t you think?"

"I- I- uh, that’s why I wanted to talk to you." Sue started with her voice full of anxiety and anticipation, "it’s been too long and I-."

"You were pretty clear the last time we spoke to each other. If you want to tell me about your amazing parties and your new friends, fine. But if you want to say anything else, you don’t need to worry. There is nothing else to say."

"I-." Sue sighed out loud while her shoulders lost their tension and slumped back in their position, "I guess you are right. I have no right to want to make amends after what I did and said. I just miss my best friend."

"What? Aren’t your new friends enough? This explains your need to always want more."

"I guess I deserved that." Sue hung her head down a few beats before meeting Emily’s eyes again, "I didn’t want this. Us fighting."

"I didn’t want this too. I- listen, we will talk. Tomorrow. Okay?"

"Thank you." Sue went to hug Emily but she stopped in her tracks when she stepped back and shook her head a bit.

"Right. I’ll see you tomorrow. Goodnight."

"Goodnight."

"Have a good night Mrs. Dickinson." Y/N chimed in for the first time since they bumped into Sue and smiled politely at the girl who looked her up and down before smiling politely too and nodding back.

"Have a good night too-."

"Y/N." Y/N finished for Sue, who trailed off waiting for the Y/E/C girl to help her out.

"Y/N." Sue repeated before turning around and going down the stairs where chatter was still going animatedly. Y/N watched the brunette’s back a few seconds as her mind replayed everything that went through in the last couple of minutes before focusing her attention back on Emily, finding her already looking at her, making her heart skip a beat.

"Hey." Y/N started with a soft voice, her smile widening when Emily grinned gently at her.

"Hey. Sorry you had to witness that." Emily apologized as she opened her bedroom door and lead them in her bedroom.

"That’s fine. Are you okay?"

"Yeah." Emily sighed out loud and nodded gently at the Y/H/C girl while closing her bedroom door. She stared a few seconds at Y/N before turning around, "can you help me?"

"Yeah sure." Y/N’s voice was a slightly bit hoarse as she walked on shaky legs towards the poet, who was standing in the middle of her bedroom, but she paid her no mind as her brain played the conversation she had with Sue a few minutes prior.

"I can’t believe she told me those things. She had no right to tell me those things!"

"I’m sorry Emily but I don’t know what you’re talking about."

"You’re right. I will tell you after getting out of this damned corset."

"I feel you." Y/N snorted as she started unfastening the knots on Emily’s corset to help her out of it faster, the poet already sighing out happily.

"Oh yes. This is wonderful." Emily moaned out in delight as soon as she felt the corset starting to loose around her upper body, creating a tingling sensation all over Y/N’s body at the unexpected sound, but she kept going instead of fainting embarrassingly behind Emily.

"Yeah, I feel you."

"I hope one day we can get rid of these things. They are awful." Emily admitted and watched as Y/N nodded in agreement when she turned her head around slightly to Y/N behind her still working on unfastening her corset’s straps.

"Yeah. It will take a lot but I’m sure they won’t be used anymore."

"We would wear something similar, maybe something that doesn’t feel so tight and that doesn’t need help to take it off."

"Oh wow, that would be wonderful. I still struggle trying to take it off myself." Y/N snorted under her breath as she shook her head.

"Wait, do you really take it off yourself?"

"Well yeah, most of the times I ask my aunt Maggie to help me, but a few times I had to do it myself when she is still busy or not around in that moment."

"Wow." Emily exclaimed, but furrowed her eyebrows when she heard Y/N chuckle under her breath, "why are you laughing?"

"Because I remembered I once struggled so much in taking my corset off that I didn’t see the bed and fell down on it and then on the floor." Y/N explained, giggling after finishing with Emily doing the same as she imagined the hilarious scene, "here you go. I’m done. You’re free from your corset."

"Oh yes! Thank you!" Emily moved without properly thinking and pushed the top of her dress and her corset down to her hip as she turned around, exposing her upper body to Y/N, who widened comically her eyes as they inevitably fell on Emily’s exposed chest. "Oh my God!"

"Oh- sorry, sorry!" Y/N immediately turned herself around and covered her eyes as a deep, burgundy blush fell on her cheeks. "Sorry for looking I- hm." Y/N cleared her throat and tried to find the right words that would not make this situation even more embarrassing but her brain seemed to be stuck in a spiral of images of Emily’s round and full breasts and was incapable of forming coherent thoughts, so she decided to just shut up.

"No, no. Don’t apologize. I should be sorry for- flashing my tits in your face." Emily turned around too, making now both of their backs face each other, and touched her cheeks to try in vain to subdue her scorching blush, while frantically searching her night gown to put on.

Y/N snorted imperceptibly under he breath and let the next, murmured words slip out of her mouth without her consent, "I should thank you instead."

It was almost imperceptible, but Emily caught it since the wired silence surrounding them was almost deafening and it made her stop in her tracks as she opened her drawer. She couldn’t have heard right, could she? Do those words mean Y/N felt something for her too? Or maybe that she was at least attracted to her? She needed answers. "I’m sorry again. I wasn’t thinking."

"Don’t worry. I hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable."

"Are you serious? I hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable." Emily countered back as she carefully took her dress and corset down her body, then putting her night gown on, purposefully choosing one that has a slight see-through fabric around her chest area. This way she could know if Y/N was interested in her in that way or not. If her eyes struggled to not stay focused on her chest, maybe she had a chance with her. "You can turn around."

"So, what happened with-." Y/N did as Emily told her but stopped mid-sentence when Emily turned around and she almost flashed her breasts to her again. The top half of Emily’s dress’ fabric was see-through, that much so that Y/N could see Emily’s erect nipples, but she wasn’t sure they were erect from the cold of the room despite the fire crackling on the right side of the room or from something else. Y/N immediately noticed her slip up and her ogling and forced her eyes to look at a portray on Emily’s wall, beside her head, instead as she cleared her throat, forcing herself to not stare at Emily’s visible chest again, "hm- with Sue?"

"Oh yeah, right, hm. Can I trust you?"

"Emily of course. I promise your secrets are safe with me."

"No, I know it. It’s just- nobody knows about this but- we had a thing going on." Emily admitted quickly, not exactly knowing how to put into words what she wanted to say, extremely afraid to watch Y/N’s facial expression at her revelation, so as soon as she finished talking, she focused her eyes on the fire crackling on her left and played around with her fingers.

"Oh wow."

"Yeah."

"Did you love her?" Y/N asked after a few beats of silence, completely taking Emily off guard.

"Wow, I wasn’t expecting this question."

"Sorry, it was too personal. You don’t have to answer me."

"No, I didn’t mean it like that. I-hm, I was expecting you- well I don’t know what I was expecting. Maybe you asking about our arrangement. Or maybe not reacting this well about this- new information about me."

"Oh yeah, I got it. You don’t have to worry about that. Like ever. I- I know what it feels like to like- love a woman."

Emily had to rectify her previous statement. That took her off guard. "Really?"

"I realized it when I was 15. I started working with my aunt Maggie in a beautiful house. Their owners were a wonderful family. Always so polite, never getting angry, very sweet with me since I was a kid but also with my aunt Maggie. They were treating us like we were part of their family. But Molly. Molly was the sweetest of them. Not to mention beautiful. We were close since we were the same age. But- hm- you were lucky enough to have some kind of something with the person I presume you loved. I wasn’t that lucky. I had to endure watching her loving someone else. For the entirety of my time as a maid in their house."

"I’m so sorry Y/N." Emily butted in as soon as Y/N, after turning around towards the fireplace, trailed off to stare blankly at the fire, too caught up in her thoughts to notice Emily approaching her slowly.

"Don’t be. It happens. Especially in the world we live in. Where people like us has to hide."

"I hope one day we don’t have to." Emily admitted a little bit wistfully, her heart aching for the pain she can clearly see in Y/N’s Y/E/C eyes when she finally looked into her brown ones. She had been lucky enough to at least act on her feelings somehow. Y/N hasn’t been that lucky.

"I hope that too." Y/N smiled gently at Emily, their eyes meeting a few seconds before Y/N’s Y/E/C one’s focused on the fireplace again.

"Did you tell her how you felt?"

"Oh God, no. Are you crazy? She would’ve ruined my life, my reputation, I could have lost my job."

"Yeah, but you broke your heart that way."

"Yeah. It will heal, eventually." Y/N shrugged like it was nothing, "it’s already healing."

"How long has it been since it happened?" Emily asked a little bit sadly, her eyes conveying as much compassion and sympathy she could to try to make Y/N feel a little bit better. Little did she know she was already making her feel better by healing her broken heart.

"About two years."

"Wow." Emily exclaimed as her brain wrapped itself around this new piece of information. She didn’t know what to say to Y/N to help her make her feel better, she had been broken hearted by Sue, but they at least had some kind of relationship.

"Woman full of words I must say. It must be easy being a poet."

Y/N’s joke made Emily snort under her breath, a gesture that she hoped distracted Y/N enough to not make her see the blush she triggered with her words. "Shut up. I was just shocked." Emily pushed on Y/N’s left shoulder when she snickered under her breath and pretended to be offended.

"Oh no, don’t be mad. I was joking. Well- not completely but- HEY! Don’t hit me with your pillow."

"Or what?" Emily smirked widely when, without Y/N noticing, grabbed the pillow laying on the chair beside her and lifted it up to hit the Y/H/C girl, but before Y/N could form any sort of warning, she got blocked by Emily swinging the pillow forward and hitting her on the face.

"Ok, you asked for it." Y/N stopped another hit with her right arm while she fumbled behind her to grab a pillow on Emily’s bed and as soon as her hand wrapped itself around the soft pillow she flung it around and hit Emily right on the face, stopping her movements altogether as she stared with a shocked but amused expression on her face at Y/N.

"You. Didn’t."

"Oh I did. I can do it again if you want."

"Don’t you dare! No! Y/N!" But it was too late. As soon as Emily finished threatening Y/N, a pillow hit her face and made her stumble a bit, but she regained her balance quickly and flung her pillow at Y/N, hitting her on her arm.

"Alright, alright. Truce." Y/N placed the pillow back on the bed and waited with an entertained smirk on her lips for Emily as she mirrored her gesture and placed the pillow onto Y/N’s one on the mattress.

"Anyway, before someone interrupted me, I was gonna say I am sorry for what you went through."

"It’s in the past now. I’m finally healing. I’m finally moving on." Y/N admitted, a slight rosy pink tinting her cheeks, something that didn’t go unnoticed from Emily but the poet decided to not ask anything about it, for now.

"I'm so happy to hear that."

"Yeah. It’s not that easy, but I will be fine. Hopefully soon." Y/N admitted with a shy smile, a gesture that Emily mirrored as she nodded in understanding.

"Good, you deserve to be happy."

"Yeah, you too. Speaking of which, how about you?"

"What about me?"

"You two had a thing going on. It must be painful calling everything off."

"It’s actually going good. I missed her a lot since we stopped our thing, but it got better in the end."

"I’m glad to hear that." Y/N smiled widely at Emily and nodded, igniting a fire within Emily that she thought it was extinguished when her thing with Sue was over.

"I- hm." Emily trailed off to ponder her next words carefully, not completely sure she wanted to admit out loud and to Y/N what she wanted to say. After a few beats of silence she made up her mind and decided she wanted to be brave, she wanted to take a shot and discover if Y/N actually liked her more than a friend. "I met someone. I- she made me feel things I thought I only felt with and for Sue."

"Oh." Y/N cleared her throat, successfully getting rid of the jealous lump it formed in her throat at Emily’s admission, but as hard as she tried no other words left her mouth.

"Yeah."

"How is- she?" Y/N stuttered, cursing herself for being so obvious about her jealousy, but it seemed Emily paid no mind to it.

"Perfect. Extremely funny, always so polite and sweet." Emily gushed uncontrollably, her eyes shining brightly with all the affection she felt for the other girl, "oh and she has a great mind too, full of ideas that fascinates me. We have a lot of hobbies in common. She is perfect."

"Wow, from what I’ve heard from your description she might be. Is she pretty?"

"No. She is beautiful."

"Already so smitten for her, hm?" Y/N teased with an arched eyebrow and a small grin to try to divert Emily’s attention on her to prevent the poet to detect her jealousy.

"How could I not? She is perfect. I think- I never felt something so hard for someone. Not even Sue."

"Does-hm-." Y/N cleared her throat when her voice wavered a bit, "does she feel the same?"

"I don’t know, but I’m trying to figure it out." Emily admitted a little bit cryptically, noticing every little reaction coming from Y/N to at least detect any kind of sign from her and if her instinct was right, she was jealous, so she maybe felt the same.

"Have you told her?"

"No. I’m a little bit insecure about it. She could feel the same but- what if she doesn’t?"

"Yeah, I know what you’re feeling. I felt the same way with Molly. I spent a year beating myself up for not telling her. Maybe we could have worked out in some way or maybe definitely not. I spent a year living on ‘what ifs’. But I have to be honest, now that I’ve moved on I think it was better that way. I don’t think she was the one for me."

"So you’re saying I shouldn’t tell her?" Emily smiled slightly at the girl rambling her thoughts out, finding all of that an extremely adorable sight witness and it became ten times cuter when Y/N blushed at her stare before shaking her head softly.

"No, what I’m trying to say is-." Y/N trailed of to take a deep breath as she stared intently into Emily’s brown eyes, "do whatever your heart craves. I’ve thought a lot about it and with a clear head I realized I was just deeply infatuated with Molly. I wasn’t actually in love with her. If it was true love I wouldn’t have moved on. So if you feel like she is the one, like you need to tell her because you truly want her, then do it. Don’t think too much about it." Emily looked at Y/N like a lovesick puppy as she talked, flaring up the fire she felt burning for Y/N, so with a made up mind and without properly thinking, as soon as Y/N finished speaking Emily surged forward and planted a soft kiss on her lips, lingering only a few seconds before pulling away abruptly, fearing Y/N’s reaction when she felt the girl completely frozen in her spot.

"I- shit- I’m so sorry- hmph." Emily got stopped abruptly when a pair of soft lips unexpectedly pressed themselves hard on her own, making her head spin out of control with a plethora of emotions she only felt when she wrote her poems. Emily felt her brain completely shutting off as she completely dived into the blissful sensation of Y/N’s mouth on hers. Their lips danced sensually over the rhythm their heartbeats set, their bodies burned from the passion the two girls shared but had to suppress for their own fears of losing the other if their feelings weren’t reciprocated, their minds were a delicious mess as their senses were completely filled with the other’s taste, perfume, essence. It was a perfect mix that both of them wished it could never end.

But Y/N had to reluctantly slow their kiss down and pull slightly away from Emily to take some needed breath as her lungs screamed for some air and she was pretty sure Emily felt if her heaving chest was anything to go by. "Do not apologize for that. Because it was so perfect."

"I was just panicking. I thought I read your signals wrong and I went too far."

"It was extremely impossible to read them wrong since I’ve been trying to not stare at your boobs for the past 20 minutes and I’ve been failing miserably." Emily snorted at Y/N’s admission, feeling a sense of pride swell in her chest as well as a familiar burning sensation in her lower stomach lighting her whole body up at Y/N’s admission.

"I think now is the right time to confess I chose this night gown on purpose." Y/N swallowed loudly when Emily winked seductively at her while puffing her chest up, giving Y/N the intoxicating view of her half exposed breasts.

"You like to torture me." Y/N murmured under her breath as her eyes never moved away from Emily’s chest, watching it move up and down with every breath the poet took and feeling her insides melt each time a nipple came in sight through the see-through fabric of Emily’s night gown.

"Why?"

"Because I can’t touch them."

"Who said you can’t?"

"Yo- wait, what?" Instead of answering verbally Emily smirked mischievously, grabbed Y/N’s wrist and pulled her hand towards herself. Just when it was hovering inches from her covered chest, she lifted her right eyebrow and silently asked Y/N if it was okay for her and smiled widely when the girl instantly nodded enthusiastically. The Y/H/C girl’s grin dropped as soon as her hand came in contact with Emily’s right breast and let out a small moan without noticing, making the poet groan at the unexpected attractive sound.

"Oh, Y/N." Emily whined and gripped Y/N’s wrist a bit more strongly when the girl squeezed her breast tentatively, but just right to light up her whole body with need.

"Come here." Y/N snaked her other hand behind Emily’s neck and pushed her harshly onto her lips to share a bruising kiss, reigniting the fire they set up a few moments prior. Y/N promptly swallowed another sound coming from Emily as she changed the angle of their kiss, full of passion but still chaste. But Emily needed more. She wanted to taste Y/N’s mouth fully. Just when Emily was debating with her mind to try to find the courage to deepen the kiss, Y/N beat her to it as her tongue licked the seam of Emily’s lips to ask for entrance. The poet granted it a few beats later with another small whine and her body got completely wrecked by a shiver running down her spine when their tongues met just as Y/N’s thumb and pointer finger found her nipple and pinched it gently but firmly.

"Oh fuck." They let their desire take over for a few minutes, giving their tongues time to explore the other’s mouth, licking every nook and cranny of each other’s mouth and swallowing every small sound they could pull from the other. As they kissed fervently, Emily’s other hand, until now placed meekly on her lap, sneaked into Y/N’s hair, after freeing them from the bun she had on all day and pulled on the Y/E/C girl’s scalp each time Y/N found a new way to stimulate her nipple or when her tongue moved just right. Their small moment was abruptly interrupted when they heard Emily’s family wishing each other a goodnight and they had to reluctantly pull away from each other, but not before sharing a few small, sweet pecks.

"I should go."

"No please, stay." Emily begged, leaning their foreheads together and sighing disapprovingly when Y/N removed her hand from her chest, only to smile widely when she grabbed Emily’s hand and intertwined their fingers together.

"I can’t. Your family is going to be upstairs any minute. We can’t get caught."

"You’re right." Emily sighed and nodded gently. Y/N had a point. "With Sue it was easier. My parents always let her sleep with me."

"Already talking about your ex with me Dickinson? Are you trying to make me jealous?" Y/N teased with a wide grin that widened when Emily blushed softly and pushed her gently on her shoulder.

"No, you jerk. I just wished it was that easier with you too. We wouldn’t have to stop this." Emily murmured seductively before leaning slowly towards Y/N and capturing Y/N’s lips in a slow but sensual kiss, making it last just a few seconds to tease Y/N and smirking widely when she accomplished her mission after hearing Y/N grunt in disapproval at her pulling away from the kiss and trying to follow her lips to kiss her again. "But you have a point. You sadly need to go. When do you have some time off tomorrow?"

"Around 11 a.m."

"Perfect, meet me here. I will tell my mom I need some help with my surprisingly ripped dress." Emily winked as she stressed the word ‘surprisingly’ and felt her heart swell at the sound of Y/N’s cute giggle.

"Alright. Goodnight Emily. Sleep well." They shared another kiss full of passion before Y/N quickly slipped out of Emily’s room, just a minute before Emily’s parents walked up the stairs to go into their room, followed right after by Lavinia.

Both girls had some troubles falling asleep that night as adrenaline still pushed through their bodies still burning with their passion, but after about an hour both girls fell asleep with wide grins on their lips, excited for the next day.

-

"Good morning my dear family!" Emily entered the living room with a brighter-than-the-sun smile, making the whole family stare at her weirdly.

"Should we get used to her being in a good mood every morning?" Edward asked his wife as both looked at Emily weirdly, eyebrows furrowed and confused expression on their faces.

"I like it." Lavinia interjected and giggled loudly when Emily run towards her and hugged tightly her over the chair. After a couple of seconds she walked to her chair and sat down, immediately stuffing her face with the delicious breakfast she had in front of her on the table.

"Hm, Maggie this breakfast is amazing!" Emily murmured with her mouth full of chocolate cake, rolling her eyes back in pure ecstasy as all the flavors hit her taste buds, completely ignoring her mother’s reprimand stare.

"Thank you Miss Dickinson, but I didn’t make it. Y/N did."

"Oh really? Where did you take the recipe?" Emily’s mother spoke up in disbelief as she too took a bite of her cake and widened her eyes comically at the tasty cake.

"It’s actually mine. It’s not that difficult to make. The secret is chocolate."

"Ugh, Y/N you need to teach me how to do this." Emily requested as casually as she could, this time waiting to swallow the cake and swiping the chocolate away from her mouth before talking, to not rise her family’s suspicions of her asking Y/N to teach her how to make a cake since she always refused to help her mom in the kitchen. "It’s delicious."

"Oh please Y/N if you succeed in making Emily do anything in the kitchen I will give you a week off." Emily turned her head towards her mother and stuck her tongue out, making her mother laugh at her in amusement.

"It would be a pleasure Miss Dickinson."

-

"Miss Dickinson?" Emily asked in a mocking tone, trying to make her best impression of Y/N, on Y/N’s lips after pulling away from the bruising kiss the two shared after Emily literally flung herself into Y/N’s arms as soon as they entered her bedroom, slamming her on the door.

"I can’t call you with your first name Emily, even if you asked me to."

"I know, but it was hilarious hearing you calling me by my last name. It’s weird."

"No, weird is being in a room with your parents when all my brain could think of was how good it felt kissing you." Y/N admitted with her eyes glued on Emily’s plump lips, biting down on her own bottom lip then to emphasize her appreciation of Emily’s lips.

"Not as good as feeling your hands on me." Emily countered back, purposefully arching her back to flush their chests together but whining in frustration when their corsets and dresses prevented them to feel anything.

"Yeah, it’s pretty much a tie." Y/N joked and thanked the door behind her back holding her up when Emily giggled on her mouth and the cute sound made her almost faint. "You are so beautiful." Y/N spoke up without even noticing as she stared at the poet with a loving gaze, creating goosebumps all over Emily’s skin.

"Not as much as you Y/N. That’s the first thing I thought that day at the well. I’ve always been fascinated by the beauty of the nature, but as soon as my eyes landed on you, it was like threes and flowers never existed. It was just you."

"Shit, do not say things like that." Y/N shook her head as she bit hard on her bottom lip while closing her eyes and leaning her forehead on Emily’s one.

"Why?"

"Because it makes me want to kiss you."

"Then why are you not doing it?" It was all the validation Y/N needed. After opening her eyes for a brief moment to meet Emily’s brown irises for confirmation, finding in them only affection and entertainment, she surged forward and captured Emily’s lips in a slow kiss, full of passion. Y/N decided to keep the kiss as chaste as possible to savor the softness of Emily’s lips, caressing her back with both hands to feel Emily’s every curve she could despite the dress and corset in her way, but when Emily’s fingers dug in the back of her neck to silently ask for more, Y/N whined softly into the kiss and immediately bit down gently on Emily’s lips. Y/N shivered at the poet’s whispered whine but took advantage of that to slip her tongue into Emily’s mouth and lick every angle she could reach. "Oh."

"Shit." Y/N murmured into the kiss when her mind finally stopped spinning from Emily’s moan and shivered wildly when the poet took advantage of Y/N’s dazed state to suck harshly on Y/N’s tongue, pulling a whine from her throat. After a few moments Emily had to pull away to take some needed breath, not too far away, just enough so their noses could brush together gently. "That was so fucking hot. And fuck- that sound." Emily giggled at Y/N’s murmured words, her eyes staring lovingly at the her and a dopey smile adorned her kiss-swollen lips, and she thought about how happy she felt in that moment.

"Ugh, I wish you could stay here all day." Emily admitted out loud after a few seconds of them basking in the comforting silence, the two girls just existing together, wrapped up in each other’s arms, with their forehead leaned together and with their breaths mingling, sighing out sadly and leaning into Y/N touch when she caressed her back comfortingly.

"I know, but your mother and sister will be back with my aunt soon." Y/N sighed out sadly, caressing Emily’s sides gently as she committed to mind every small detail she could.

"Yeah and Sue will be over in an hour. We still need to talk."

"She just wants her best friend back, Emily. Give her a chance to be a good friend. You two were friends before having what you two had."

"You’re right. I want to talk to her too. I want my friend back, but I just- want to spend more time with you."

"You will, tonight." Y/N nodded encouragingly and smiled widely to hope to make Emily do the same and when she did a few seconds later her own grin widened ten sizes.

"Do not forget we have the house all for ourselves on Thursday."

"Already trying to get under my dress Dickinson?"

"Maybe." Emily winked with a mischievous grin, making Y/N laugh heartily before kissing her gently and slipping out of her room.

[animeomegas]

The Quest for a Second Life - Part 5 - 50 Shades of Audacity (1)

KAKASHI X ALPHA!READER

Summary: If suddenly waking up in an uncanny office had been bad, this time was worse, because you had a job interview, and the guy before you had just stormed out in tears. Why did you pick this world again? And why is your boss an asshole? And sexy? And with a nice voice? Fuck, this wasn't going to be good. GN!Dom!Alpha!Reader x Multiple

Word Count: 10.8k

Warnings: Alcohol consumption, sex while both parties are a little tipsy, workplace violations, questions about someone not eating lunch due to being a workaholic, and overuse of the world asshole as an adjective. All alphas have dicks, fyi.

A/N: Happy Holidays everyone! And a special happy holidays to those who guessed that our next omega was going to be Kakashi!!! December is well underway and I'm working hard to get all these chapters finished in time for the epilogue to be released on Christmas! The dynamic is different with this one, but I hope everyone enjoys nonetheless <333 I hope you enjoy the choice for the second character, @omeganronpa I'm honoured to call you my friend <333

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Epilogue

In the span of one blink, you went from standing in the library with James, to sitting on an uncomfortable chair in some kind of office waiting room. No matter how many times you jumped between realities, you swore you would never get used to the complete sensory change that happened in milliseconds. You had changed positions, clothes, company and scenery just like that.

Trying to gain your bearings, you tried to take in your new surroundings. Your first thought was that you had some serious déjà vu, as James’ uncanny valley of an office sprung to mind. Seriously, how many times were you going to suddenly gain consciousness in a soulless office?

At least this one was a lot less creepy, you admitted. It had doors and windows for starters, but the cavernous size of the room also helped diminish the claustrophobic feeling. Rather than beige, the room was decorated in a tasteful, modern, monochrome, boring but inoffensive, and better than too much beige in your opinion.

The copious amounts of soulless corporate art on every surface were the final touches that convinced you this was a real office and not set dressing for purgatory.

The waiting room was full of people though. You hadn’t seen this many people in one place since Itachi took you into town, and the general air of anxiety coming off them all was putting you on edge.

You fidgeted, uncomfortable at suddenly wearing formal business wear. The blue folder that was sitting on your lap shifted slightly, but you paid it no mind as you straightened everything out and readjusted yourself into a more comfortable position. To your left, what you could only describe as the combination of a modern water feature and grandfather clock chimed, signalling it as 09:00 AM.

‘James? Can you hear me?’

‘I can, human alpha.’

‘Great. Can you give me a run down of this pocket dimension please? It’s been like, two weeks since I read the blurb.’

‘Of course. ’50 Shades of Audacity’ follows MC, an alpha graduate student who lands the role of personal assistant to one of the most famous CEOs of the time, omega, Kakashi Hatake. MC discovers that Kakashi is hiding a submissive streak, and together, they explore their relationship while preparing for the yearly Autumn Company Party.’

You nodded idly as James explained it, vague memories coming back to you. The man next to you shot you a weird look, and you realised you were nodding at seemingly nothing. You cleared your throat and shifted awkwardly. Whoops.

Regardless, the blurb put your current situation into perspective. When you had chosen the book, you had expected to enter the world already working as a personal assistant, but you had a sneaking suspicion that this was the job interview and all the people sat with you were competition.

To confirm your suspicion, you opened the folder on your lap, and yep, it was filled with important documents, including your CV, degree certificate, and several references. Damn, for someone decently young, you seemed to be the perfect candidate. That did relieve some of the tension. The world was literally set up to push you into the role, and you were the perfect candidate, surely there was nothing to worry about. For now, you decided to try and relax. Job interviews were a pain in the ass, but this one hopefully wouldn’t be too bad. And you could always talk to James to pass the time.

‘James, I know you must be thinking something along the lines of, ‘what kind of human picks a life where they have a job, when they could choose to not have a job?’’

‘I have never had such a thought.’

‘But I’m playing the long game, James,’ you continued, ignoring her response. ‘This Hatake guy must be rolling in it, and so once we’re serious, there would be no reason for me to work anymore! And it’s not like we’d get divorced in an erotica novel, that wouldn’t make sense, so I just need this job to meet him, make him fall in love with me, and then, if I stay here, I’ll have a fancy CEO husband, and everything will work out great.’

‘I see. I believe humans term that strategy, ‘gold digging’.’

You were planning to argue back, but your outrage died on your lips when you realised that she was kind of right. You were only going to choose this omega if you actually loved him, of course, but you couldn’t deny that the main reason you had chosen this book in the first place was the money and possibility of a cushy life. And being able to retain access to the internet which was something you’d have to give up for a life with Itachi.

‘What backstory elements are set in stone here?’ you asked, realising that the amnesia trick wasn’t going to work a second time.

‘Primarily your qualifications and educational history. You also own both a flat and a car, although how you obtained those is up to you.’

Nice, that gave you a lot of freedom to work with. Also… was your flat nice? And what about your car? You hoped so, but even if they weren’t, you could get Hatake to pay for a nice upgrade.

A man with a clipboard walked out of the office door to your left and everyone in your vicinity snapped to attention. He had brown hair and intense, dark eyes that were a little unnerving. “The interviews for the personal assistant job have now begun. You will be called up one at a time. Ren Shimomura.”

The man who had given you a strange look earlier got up and walked into the office with a confident smile, his briefcase swinging gently by his side. When the door closed behind him, everyone relaxed a little and went back to their pointless busy tasks.

‘So, James, what can I expect from this job interview?’ you asked. You figured it wouldn’t hurt to be prepared, even if the universe was going to intervene for your success.

‘That question is more difficult to answer than you might think, human. Despite this pocket dimension being one of the most popular in the erotica category, no one has ever successfully passed the interview and obtained the personal assistant job.’

Your stomach dropped. What? That couldn’t be right, could it?

You laughed nervously, sure that you had misheard. ‘What? Surely the universe needs the person to get the job.’

‘Yes, it has been causing quite the issue. This world has been scheduled for removal for being too difficult to follow. You will be the last person from your realm to ever enter this one, whether you decide to stay or not.’

‘Thanks for warning me before I picked it,’ you ‘said’, your mental voice taking on a tinge of bitterness. So, you were pretty much doomed to failure here? Great.

‘I didn’t warn you, human.’

‘I know.’

Your mental conversation ended as the door to the office opened and the man, Ren, stormed out, looking like he was holding back angry tears. He exited the room swiftly, without so much of a glance back.

That certainly didn’t make you feel any better about your chances.

Neither did your name being called seconds later.

The man with the clipboard smiled at you as you stood, folder in hand. “Just in there, Mr. Hatake is waiting for you.”

You nodded and approached the door. Right, this was fine. You took a deep breath and reminded yourself of your situation. You didn’t need this job. You wouldn’t run out of money without it, you wouldn’t get blacklisted or arrested if something went wrong, you couldn’t die if something went very wrong. The very worst-case scenario was that you bungled this, spent the next two weeks enjoying some alone time in this world, and then returned to your beautiful witch.

So, really, what reason did you have to be nervous?

With that in mind, you took a fortifying breath and walked into the office with your head held high. This CEO couldn’t scare you.

The design of the office was much the same as the waiting room, with a monochrome colour scheme and minimal furniture. The entire back wall was glass, which bathed the office in natural light, but cast shadows around the impressive desk in the middle of the room. Behind the desk was an imposing desk chair that was currently faced away from you. The back of the chair was so high that you couldn’t technically tell if Hatake was sitting in it or not. In front of the desk was a much less impressive desk chair; presumably that chair was for you.

You walked towards your chair, marvelling at how cliché the whole ‘tall chair spin reveal’ thing was. What was he, a Bond villain? The main question though, was if he’d also be accidentally flashing his nipples at you. You stifled a laugh imagining a scary CEO turning around in his chair only for the buttons on his shirt to come flying off.

“Did I say that you could sit down?” The voice came from the highbacked chair, which was still facing away from you.

The CEO’s voice was hot, you couldn’t deny that, but his attitude was already ugly. What kind of high and mighty asshole spoke to people like that? Were you supposed to just stay standing until he offered the seat when he couldn’t even be bothered to face you? Fuck that.

Suddenly, what was remaining of your nervousness bled out of you, replaced by annoyance. Honestly, you had already accepted that you weren’t going to get this job or this omega as soon as James had explained the situation, but maybe you could still get something out of this. Like catharsis. You could berate Hatake on behalf of every shitty boss you couldn’t berate in the past and then this world would still be worth it.

“Unless you’re suffering from short term memory loss, there’s no need for me to answer that question.”

Finally, that seems to goad him into turning around. The chair swivelled, revealing Kakashi Hatake in all his glory. He was dressed in the exact kind of suit you expected for someone like him, expertly tailored, incredibly expensive, and in a tasteful blue colour. Just peeking out from his collar you noticed some clear scent patches, and you imagined you’d find the same ones on his wrists. He had grey-silver hair styled in a way that must have required a significant amount of hair wax, and equally grey eyes, one of which had a vertical scar running through it. He even had a frankly adorable beauty mark, what the fuck.

Fine. He was hot. That didn’t mean he wasn’t an asshole.

The look he was giving you was somehow both disparaging and uninterested, like he was looking at a badly painted wall.

“Why do you want this job?” he asked, voice bored and condescending. “You don’t seem like you’d be particularly good at it.”

You grit your teeth at his blatant disrespect, “Jobs provide the money which can be exchanged for goods and services required to facilitate survival, you see. Perhaps the silver spoon in your mouth prevented you from learning that dichotomy.” You missed your witch.

Kakashi raised an eyebrow. He held out a hand, and you wordlessly passed him your folder of documents. You were honestly surprised that he hadn’t just kicked you out already. His motivations became clear however, when he picked out your CV, ripped it in half, and then tossed it in the bin.

This asshole! You were furious.

Hatake pressed a button on a raised box on his desk and began to speak into it, presumably to dismiss you and ask for the next person to be sent in.

You didn’t need this job, you couldn’t get into any meaningful trouble, and this man was royally pissing you off. Something in you just snapped.

“Tenzou, send—”

You grabbed him by his boring, blue tie and stood, pulling him partially over the desk and towards you. He gasped in surprise, letting go of the button as both hands flew up to grab your wrist. You expected him to immediately pull you off him, but he didn’t. He was still, staring at you with wide eyes. For the first time since you’d walked into his office, it felt like he was properly looking at you.

“I am the best fucking personal assistant out of any of those people out there, and I will not have some bratty CEO talk down to me, understood?”

“I’ll call security,” he said quietly, voice strangely hoarse.

“Don’t bother.” You let him go and he fell back heavily into his ridiculous chair.

“Senpai?” The clipboard man’s voice floated through the speaker on the black box. “Is everything okay? You cut out.”

The man didn’t reply to the message, he only stared at you. His face was blank, but you had the feeling that there was a lot going on inside his head.

‘Remember the story, human.’

For a moment, you thought James was encouraging you to play nice for the sake of the story, but then you realised that she meant. Fuck, that’s right, Kakashi Hatake was a secret submissive. He was probably very turned on and very confused right now. You sent him a cocky grin.

“The job starts Monday, yes?” He nodded, dumbly. “I’ll see you then, 08:00 sharp. All my documents are in the folder.” You walked to the door confidently, and just as you reached it, you turned. “Have a good day, sir.”

You opened the door just as the clipboard man tried to do the same on the other side. You paid neither him nor any of the other candidates any mind, you just strode towards the exit, adrenaline rushing through your veins.

The fresh air and sun hit you as you stepped outside into the office’s car park.

‘James, oh my god, I grabbed him by his tie.’

‘I saw, human, it was very unexpected. No other human has attempted such a method.’

‘I would so be blacklisted if this were real, James. Did… Did I do a good job? It felt like I did at the time, playing up to his submissive side, but now I just feel like I was crazy and there’s no way he’d give me the job.’

‘Only time will tell, human, I do not have the answers.’

‘Time… I can do that.’ You gazed out over the sea of cars, all shimmering in the sun. ‘Now, James, which car is mine?’

…

Once you had successfully found your nicer than expected car, you headed to your mysterious flat. It took longer than you thought, but at least you’d learnt some more about James; she was terrible at giving directions and did not know what a roundabout was.

Your flat, much like your car, was nicer than you expected for a recent graduate that worked as a personal assistant. It was stylish and cosy, with lots of wood tones and warm, textured fabrics. It could have fallen out of an interior design magazine, right down to the perfectly placed bowls of fruit. The flat even had a guest room and a home office.

You were going to put this one down to porn logic again and figure out some sort of explanation for why you had the money for this in your backstory.

After doing some snooping around the flat, you flopped down on your bed, feeling strangely exhausted. You pulled out your phone (and how strange it was to have modern technology back!) and checked the date. It was Friday lunch time, and you didn’t have to go to the job, presuming you even got it, until Monday. That meant you had an entire weekend to do what you wanted. That was the best news you’d heard all day.

‘James, is the entire world, I guess, loaded, for want of a better word? Like, theoretically, if I travelled across the world to a random village, would the people there be real? Does the world function outside of the story?’

‘Once you choose to remain in a world, it functions exactly like the one you came from, yes, complete with up to billions of people who each have their own lives. Not everything is ah, loaded, in this demo though. I would recommend staying firmly within this city for the time being.”

‘Amazing! That’s so exciting, James!’

‘If you say so.’

Alongside modern technology, staying in this world would also give you more chance to travel. With Itachi, you would be mostly going on foot, perhaps on a horse if you were lucky, but here you could be on the other side of the world in a day.

That was for future you to weigh up though, right now you needed to find a bank statement of some kind, because you wanted to spend this weekend pampering yourself and you needed to know your budget. You could think about Kakashi Hatake and this world later, once you had your thoughts in order.

The weekend passed in a blur of bubble baths, food delivery apps, and films. You’d even gone for a dip in your complex’s pool. It had been nice to recharge. You had enjoyed spending time with Itachi immensely, but you’d had almost no proper alone time for over half a month, and it was sorely needed.

The only other thing of note happened on Saturday, when you received an email from Hatake’s company, which contained your new company account and login details.

…

Walking into work on Monday was a surreal feeling that you couldn’t put into words. No one acted like anything strange had happened. You were treated like a normal new hire, which you suspected meant Hatake had kept the details of your interview to himself.

Speaking of Hatake, he was apparently in meetings all morning and so you wouldn’t see him for a few hours. You didn’t know if you were irritated or relieved that your likely awkward reunion would be postponed.

“So, here is Kakashi’s calendar, which kind of functions like the core of your job,” Iruka, the man who was training you, said. “You’ll be in charge of organising his appointments and commitments and reminding him to attend them.” The last part was added with a tone that suggested Hatake had not always been the best at either being on time or showing up at all.

“Got it. No double bookings, and smack Hatake with a ruler if he tries to escape.”

Iruka snorted, but quickly smothered the laugh with a hand. “Pretty much. For today, I’ve gone through your inbox and marked the emails that require appointments as urgent. You just need to schedule them and add them to his calendar. It’s pretty busy at the moment because of the Autumn Company Party at the end of the month, so don’t worry if everything’s a bit much. My desk is over there, so you can ask for help at any time, okay?”

“Thanks, you’re a lifesaver.” You grinned at him, and he smiled back.

“Good luck!” With that he was gone. That wasn’t the first time the Autumn Company Party had come up, but you still weren’t sure what that had to do with the plot of his pocket dimension. It certainly wasn’t as straight forward as ‘collect the potion ingredients’.

‘James, what’s the deal with this party? What’s going to happen at it?’

‘There are many, many ways the event can play out, human. Seeing that you are the first to make it past the interview, I cannot even tell you which outcomes are most likely.’

‘Damn. Well, thanks anyway.’

You ended up whizzing through your work. It was incredibly simple, which could have been because they were taking it easy on you for your first day, or because work in general was easier in porn universes. You finished before Hatake was freed from his morning meetings, so you decided to do a little googling on your new boss. As such a high-profile CEO, you were sure you could find some information on him.

You put his name into the search bar and scrolled through the top results.

There were mostly news articles and links to the company websites, but eventually his Wikipedia page popped up and you clicked on it, skimming down the paragraphs immediately. Your eyebrows kept rising up as you read. His father, the original founder of the company had committed suicide when Kakashi was four years old, leaving him an orphan. He had been immediately added to the company’s board of directors (at four years old?!), and when he’d turned eighteen and those overseeing the company didn’t seem keen to pass it back to him, Kakashi had staged a business coup and seized control by force.

Jeez, what a life story.

Closing the Wikipedia page, you opened a couple of articles instead. One was a gossip magazine speculating on his famous bachelorhood and why he hadn’t settled down yet. Another was talking about the large donations he had made to several dog and animal welfare charities. The third was just a listicle of pictures of him from various point throughout his life. Ha. He looked like he was such a cute, grumpy kid.

You had to admit that his character was perfectly set up to redeem him for being an asshole at your first meeting. Dead parents, a tragic backstory, betrayal from those supposed to look after him, an animal lover… You bet that he had been forced to supress his emotions to avoid being manipulated as a child, too. That was about as stereotypical as you could get. Were he a fictional character, his fans would easily excuse any rudeness and ruthlessly defend him online. And that was fine, but they weren’t the ones who had to be on the receiving end of his rudeness.

Ugh, you didn’t know what to do with him. On one hand, you were happy ignoring him for being mean to you in your interview, but on the other, you kind of wanted to get to know him to see what the story was about. Maybe you’d put in a bit of effort as a show of good faith, but if he insisted on rebuffing you, you’d give up and find some other way to enjoy yourself. Yeah, that sounded like a good plan.

Dog lovers were your weakness, so you couldn’t give up on him completely, not just yet.

You closed the tabs and, checking the time, you realised you still had some leeway before Hatake was free. You needed to come up with your backstory sharpish, because you didn’t have amnesia this time, and people would likely start asking questions about you once lunch hit. Best get your story straight first.

You grabbed a post-it note and jotted down your favourite acronym, MLHH (Money, Love, Health, Happiness), to keep you on target.  

Loving parents, you definitely wanted those. Were they the ones you wanted funding your lifestyle? Hmm, no, how about a rich, eccentric aunt that sent money all the time? Yes, you’d always wanted a fun, rich uncle or aunt to spoil you. Perhaps she had been the one to buy you the house and car. You jotted it all down. You also crafted yourself two best friends and a couple of hobbies, just to enrich your life. As per James’ instructions, you left the academic stuff alone.

“Am I paying you to write details about your own life on post it notes?” A sudden voice from behind made you jump, smacking your knees on the underside of the desk with a bang.

You laughed awkwardly as you came face to face with the man of the hour, Kakashi Hatake, who had chosen a charcoal grey suit for today, giving him an overall monochrome vibe that matched the office building. He was staring at your post it note, unimpressed.

You snatched the note and put it in your pocket. Quick, find some way to change the subject!

“I’ve updated your calendar with more meetings and commitments. This afternoon you only have a phone call with a representative from a company that sells… custom dog bandanas?” You decided not to question it. “The rest of the afternoon is business as usual.”

He watched you for a moment before he nodded, and turned to enter his office door, which was only a few feet from your desk.

“Just so you know,” he said, turning to look at you over his shoulder, “more work is periodically added to your task list, you just need to refresh the page.”

The door slammed shut behind him. You made a frustrated noise. He was so rude, with his annoyingly hot face and perfect voice. God, he got on your nerves like no one else. Ugh, you already regretted deciding to give him a chance.

You refreshed the task list and watched it fill up with new tasks.

Why did you pick a world where you had a job again? Oh yeah, you were playing the long game. The long game sucked.

You spent the rest of the workday completing tasks and flip flopping on whether it was worth trying to chase the plot and romance Hatake. Instinctually you led towards no, but when you remembered how he’d responded to you in the interview, you wavered. Ultimately, your curiosity was too much to resist, so you hatched a plan to spend some time with him.

…

“Did you have someone sneak you lunch through the window, or have you not eaten yet today?” you asked, waltzing into Hatake’s office at exactly 17:05, coat and bag ready to leave.

Hatake finished whatever he was writing before putting down the pen and giving you a flat look. “I don’t see how that’s any of your business, and I’m certain I told you to knock before coming in.”

“Firstly, the workday ended five minutes ago so you’re not the boss of me anymore. Secondly, that was the clearest no I’ve ever heard. You should make time to eat lunch, you know, it’s good for you.”

“If you don’t have anything of use to say, then leave.” Ugh, why were you dealing with this asshole again?

“Actually, I do.” He raised an eyebrow at you, like he was already dismissing your message. “Get dinner with me.”

That actually seemed to catch him off guard, if only for a moment. You had honestly been wondering if the side of him you glimpsed in your interview was some kind of hallucination, but there was a flicker of that same man now. Unfortunately, although you could see that, you could also see the moment he shut down the reaction and returned to his flat, impassive stare.

“I’m busy this evening—”

“I already moved your appointment to tomorrow morning.”

He narrowed his eyes at you. You didn’t know if it was irritation at your messing with his schedule or at interrupting him, but you did know that you were getting on his nerves. Good.

“And I suppose, if you’re inviting me, then you’re paying?” he challenged. “Fair warning, I have expensive taste.”

‘James, quick, what’s the best restaurant in the area?’

‘Kakashi Hatake often visits a restaurant about two miles from here, called La Liaison. It’s French, and incredibly pricy.’

Right, you tried to remember what you’d seen you your bank details. You could definitely afford one fancy meal; it was affording everything else after that that was the problem.

Hatake’s smug face at your hesitation spurred you on. You wracked your brain for some kind of solution.

‘James, if I decide that my rich aunt sends me large lump sums of money every month, will my bank account automatically replenish by the end of this demo?’

‘Technically, yes, although it will only happen if you choose this dimension permanently, as your rich aunt does not yet exist. You must also remember to speak or write any information you want to be true for it to take effect.’

Perfect. You could wipe that smug look off Hatake’s face, live a bit more frugally for the rest of the demo, and if for some unknown reason you chose to stay here, you’d have your money automatically replenished. You just had to remember to write the details down after dinner tonight.

“Of course, it’ll be my treat,” you smiled, tips tight. “Do you like French food? I heard La Liaison is lovely.”

Kakashi studied you for a moment, like he was trying to figure out what game you were playing. Just as you thought you’d won the little verbal exchange, Hatake sent you a mocking eye smile. “And how are you planning on gaining a reservation at such short notice? The next available evening bookings are for two months from now.”

You tensed up like you’d been dealt a physical blow. Fuck, you forgot about bookings. There was no way you could allow him to win just like that, though. You took a deep breath, porn logic, I believe in you, please help me out, I’m trying to woo him, just as you wanted. Kind of.

“I’m sure it will all work out!” You voice was artificially chipper, and you could tell that Hatake was picking up on your anxiety. “Come on, what’s the harm? Let’s go!”

He watched you evenly. That was one thing you’d noticed about Hatake; he always thought before he spoke, choosing each action and word carefully. It made sense once you considered his childhood and was equal parts sad and irritating.

Just when you thought he was about to refuse and dismiss you, Hatake chuckled and stood, closing his computer and grabbing his suit jacket from the back of his ridiculously dramatic desk chair.

“I’ll have my chauffeur drop us off,” he said, walking to the door. You followed, kind of stunned that he had agreed at all. He locked the office door behind him. “There’s no parking available at this time of day in the town centre.”

You walked through the office side by side, watching your coworkers pack up or work late.

Everyone noticed you two, armed with bags and coats that made it obvious you were leaving together. There were gasps, there was gossiping, there were whispers. The man with the clipboard, who had introduced himself to you as Yamato, looked like he had seen a ghost. Was it really that strange to see this CEO leave work on time, or was it because he was with you?

Hatake paid them no mind, and you tried to do the same.

It was strange that he agreed to join you, but you didn’t get your hopes up that this meant he suddenly liked you. It was more likely that he was coming in order to force your hand. If you were humiliated by there being no tables, or not being able to afford the food you said you could, it would likely stop you from bothering him outside of work again.

You just really, really hoped there would somehow be a table.

Once you arrived at the car park, there was a sleek, black car waiting for you. You weren’t sure if Hatake had somehow called ahead without you noticing, or if his car was already ready for him, but it was very convenient. If the chauffeur was surprised that Hatake had a guest, he didn’t mention it.

The car was so obviously expensive that you felt a little uncomfortable sitting in it. You had never been so conscious of your hand placement in your life. The brat of a CEO didn’t seem to have the same problem, relaxing easily against the leather, looking right at home. He gave the driver the name of the restaurant, and you were off.

You took a moment to beg the pocket dimension that somehow you would be able to get a seat. ‘Porn logic, I’ve always loved and respected you, please pull through for me, just this once! I won’t be able to handle Hatake’s smug grin without punching him in the face.’

‘My name is James, human, and I cannot control these pocket dimensions.’

You snorted, ‘I wasn’t speaking to you James, sorry.’

“What’s so funny?” Hatake asked, breaking the silence. Oh, you had laughed out loud; you had to stop doing that. Were you also doing it when you were with Itachi, but there were just fewer people around to comment on it? Itachi seemed like the sort who would take a lot of weirdness in stride.

“Your face.”

Hatake let out an amused breath, “Are you always so childish?”

“What can I say? You bring out the worst in me.”

“Approximately five minutes until arrival, sir,” the chauffeur said, speaking through a speaker that connected the front and back sections of the car.

“Just Kakashi is fine,” he sighed. “I’ve told you that a hundred times.”

“If you say so, sir.” Hatake rolled his eyes but dropped the issue.

The final five minutes passed it silence.

…

La Liaison was a small modern building nestled at the very end of the high street, decorated in pastel blue and covered in artificial ivy. The whole building exuded a timeless elegance that made you glad your work dress code was formal. Stepping through the doors, you were welcomed by warm lighting, live piano music, and an impeccably dressed host. This was the exact kind of place you could see Hatake fitting right in.

“Good afternoon, and welcome to La Liaison. Can I take the name on your reservation, please?”

You could practically feel the amusement radiating off the smug asshole behind you as you were faced with the exact situation he had predicted. You just had to go for it. You believed in the porn logic!

(And if it didn’t work you were going to return to your flat with your tail between your legs, make James pull you out of this dimension early, and then ask Itachi for a potion that could remove memories instead of bringing them back.)

“Ah, well, we don’t technically have a reservation, but an acquaintance of mine mentioned that they just had to cancel theirs, so we were hoping there’d be a free table.”

Please work, please work, please work.

The two seconds between your request and the host’s response felt like an agonising eternity. Failure wasn’t an option; you couldn’t lose to your awful boss.

The relief you felt when the host’s face melted into a smile almost knocked you to your knees.

“Is that so? Yes, I just got off the phone with them, you’re lucky no one else has claimed the table yet. If you’ll pass my college your coats, I’ll take you to your table.”

Yes, yes, yes!! You loved porn logic so much. It seemed like anything was fair game as long as it pushed you and Mr. Smug together. Speaking of Mr. Smug, you mouthed ‘I told you so’, as you walked to your table. He did not respond.

The table was, unsurprisingly, very romantic. It was secluded away in the corner, pressed up against a window and yet sectioned from the rest of the restaurant by a divider. The table sat two people, and its white tablecloth was covered in candles and rose petals. Of course, the cancelled reservation was for a romantic date. You weren’t going to complain though; a table was a table.

You both sat down. You briefly debated pulling out the chair for Hatake, but you decided against it at the last minute. You were both handed menus and informed of the soup of the day before the waiter left you in peace. The illusion of privacy helped you relax, despite the stuffy atmosphere.

“An acquaintance, huh?” Kakashi asked, unfolding his napkin and laying it over his lap. He obviously didn’t believe your lie.

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re incredibly annoying?” you said, instead of answering his question.

“Once or twice.”

“Well then,” you shot him a sarcastic smile, “I’m glad you have such honest people in your life.”

“As am I.” The eye smile he sent you this time seemed more genuine, and you had to hold back your laugh.

The conversation faded for a moment as the background chatter from the rest of the restaurant filled the space. It was weird to be here with him, and maybe you were still riding the high of getting a table, but you were already enjoying yourself.

“So… you come here often?” you asked, picking up the menu. You supressed a wince at the prices. “It seems like you’re right at home.”

“It makes for a convenient location to dazzle those who demand such treatment before they’ll sign anything.”

“Ugh, so this is where you take people to schmooze them? Gross.” You flipped over the menu to find the drinks section, only to belatedly realise that the drinks had their own menu already on the table. “I can’t imagine you doing that successfully; you’re so rude.”

“Maybe you just bring out the worst in me.”

The way he reused your words from earlier reluctantly brought a smile to your face. Okay fine. Fine! You’d admit that he was witty, and you had some good chemistry. And he was hot. But that was it! That didn’t mean you were going to fall in love with someone so annoying!

‘I believe you were also interested in his love for dogs, human alpha.’

‘James, I’m trying to live in denial here, and you’re ruining it.’

‘My apologies. Does that mean that I should also refrain from mentioning your obvious obsession with his beauty mark?’

Sometimes, you weren’t sure that James wasn’t an elaborate troll.

Scanning the menu, you decided the vegetarian pasta looked nice. And if it was also the cheapest thing on the menu, well that was just a coincidence. This better be one of the best meals of your life.

Kakashi left his menu completely untouched. Right, he’d been here countless of times to charm people into signing away their money. He was probably treating this dinner as something similar, but with you wanting something from him instead. You doubted he’d believe you if you said you were doing this out of curiosity. But the questioned remained, how could you make this feel different for him?

Suddenly, it hit you; he liked when other people took control. You had an idea.

‘James, can you tell me what Kakashi normally orders from here?’

‘He always orders one of the seafood dishes, accompanied by a white wine.’

Right. Perfect. What you were about to do would be so out of order in real life, but you had plot armour, and honestly you wanted to see what would happen.

When the waiter returned, he directed his, “Are you ready to order?”, towards Kakashi. He probably recognised him if he was a regular, and figured he was schmoozing another hapless soul.

That didn’t fit what you had in mind though.

“Yes, we are,” you said confidently, before Kakashi could speak. “We’ll have a bottle of the Chateau Sixtine Blanc and some still water for the table. For food, I’ll have the vegetarian pasta, and he’ll have the Coquilles Saint-Jacques.”

Kakashi’s stare was intense, but he didn’t intervene. The waiter seemed taken aback that you were ordering for the table, but when Kakashi made no move to dispute what you’d said, he nodded, collected your menus, and left. You expected to be admonished in some way, but Kakashi remained silent.

Drinks arrived quickly. The waiter poured you both a glass of the wine and some water before he was gone again. Kakashi picked up the wine glasses and swirled it dramatically before taking a sip.

When he spoke, you had expected a question about how you found out his usual order, or perhaps a comment on the wine, but no, instead, he was his usual blunt self.

“I wonder what it is you’re hoping to gain from this.”

“That’s fine, you can wonder all you like.”

He sent you a measured look, “Has anyone ever told you you’re incredibly annoying?”

You grinned, “Nope!”

“I see. Well, I hope you’ll be blessed with some honest people in your life soon, I’ve found having them around to be extraordinarily helpful.”

You snorted mid sip of wine, which probably didn’t look attractive. Coughing, you looked up, expecting a judgemental look for behaving such a way in a fancy restaurant, but Kakashi just looked amused.

“Can I ask you a question?” You dabbed your lips with your napkin to soak up any stray wine drops. “What was the deal with that interview? It didn’t seem like you even wanted any applicants there. Was it just some weird form of employment hazing?”

“Simple. I didn’t want an assistant; I work better alone.”

“Then why hold the interview at all?”

“The board of directors were very… persistent. I knew they’d only shut up if I scared off every personal assistant in the city.”

You sent him a searching look, “But you hired me.”

“I did.”

“Why?”

He shrugged, “You had comedy value.”

Comedy value!? This dick.

“Liar,” you shot back. “You just think I’m hot, admit it.”

You got another one of his infuriating eye smiles. “If you say so.” God, you wanted to punch him, and maybe kiss him. Fuck.

“Whatever, just know that it’s your turn to pay for dinner next time, an I’m ordering the most expensive thing I can find.”

“If we go out for dinner too often, people will talk.”

“As if they aren’t already,” you said, referencing the sate of the office you’d left behind. You’d bet that they’d all stayed late to swap theories. “Yamato looked at us like a child who’d just walked in on his parents having sex.”

Kakashi seemed amused, “He would not appreciate that description.”

“That doesn’t make it any less true.”

As the conversation flowed, so did the wine. You were surprised by how much fun you were having. Hatake was a great conversationalist and the rapid-fire banter had you laughing out loud more than once. The food was just as good as you’d hoped as well.

To your utter delight, Hatake’s face turned pink as he drank. So cute. You couldn’t stop yourself from reaching out to feel the warm skin. Kakashi leaned into the hand in an almost nuzzle. You did not expect him to reciprocate. Shocked, you froze, hand still on his cheek.

Hatake seemed surprised too because he suddenly wrenched himself away from you. You pulled your hand back like it’d been burnt.

You’d bet anything that he was touch starved.

“Sorry, Hatake, I don’t know why I—”

“Kakashi,” he muttered, “you can call me Kakashi. Everyone does.”

“Kakashi,” you repeated, sending him a small smile. Maybe he wasn’t so bad. You kind of wanted to lick his face.

Kakashi’s phone buzzed in his pocket, shattering the moment. Disappointingly, he immediately slipped it out of his pocket and checked the message.  You weren’t exactly surprised that he put checking his phone over your conversation, but it was still rude, whether you expected it or not.

Kakashi made an amused noise as he saw the expression on your face. “I only have audible notifications on for important people; I’m just checking to make sure nothing is wrong, there’s no need to look so offended.”

You sputtered, face heating up, “I’m not offended! I was just thinking it was rude to check your phone at dinner.”

“Ruder than ordering for someone else without their permission?”

“Whatever,” you mumbled, crossing your arms. “You liked it.”

Kakashi didn’t acknowledge you as he checked his messaged. You watched his eyes move from side to side as he read, before he eventually barked out a laugh and put the phone away.

“What’s funny?”

“One of my friends evidently found out that I was out to dinner. He has wished us luck on our youthful endeavours.”

You pulled a face at the weird phrasing. “He sounds… interesting.”

“You have no idea,” Kakashi said before emptying his wine glass.

“People seem so surprised about this. You don’t get out much then?”

Kakashi barked a laugh that sounded surprisingly bitter, and then didn’t elaborate. In true erotica love interest fashion, there was something brewing below the surface. Touch starved, orphaned, rich, but lonely, he was about as stereotypical as it got. You wondered if he’d also killed someone like Itachi? Hmm, probably not. This was a modern universe, and there were normally more severe consequences for things like that. It would have at least been mentioned on his wiki page.

By the time you had finished eating, the city outside the window had lit up in the darkness. The traffic had died down once rush hour ended, but the occasional car still passed by. You checked your phone and realised you’d been having dinner with Kakashi for almost two hours.

Your pride didn’t stop you from admitting that the time was flying because you were having fun.

Still, it was getting late, so you waved down a waiter and requested the bill. You were hoping that, seeing as you’d taken charge with ordering, that he would… yes! The waiter put the bill down in front of you instead of Kakashi.

You grinned at him smugly; you’d been assigned dom by wait staff.

He rolled his eyes at you, but you could see the smile on his face.

The bill wasn’t great, but it could have been worse. Clearly you hadn’t managed to keep your grimace supressed completely though because Kakashi noticed.

“Having second thoughts?” He was annoyingly observant.

You had never pulled out your card faster, grateful that you’d found your pin number written down in some old documents in your flat. Kakashi watched you pay, a strange glint in his eyes.

Did he assume you were going to dine and dash and make him pay or something? No… that wasn’t it. His ears had gone red too, and not from the alcohol.

He liked it, you realised gleefully. He liked that you ordered for him. He liked that you paid for him. He liked that you had decided on the place and time and dragged him along. It fit his reaction and it fit his character.

You were certain that most of his acquaintances either saw Kakashi as some kind of aloof, ‘didn’t believe in love’ character, or as a hard dom. And on the surface, sure, you could understand why they thought that, but how could anyone continue to think so once they spoke to him properly, when he was practically crying out for someone to take care of him?

Exhilaration ran through you. Maybe you were in this for more than just curiosity now.

“Come on,” you said, standing. “It’s getting late, and I still need to get my car—Shoot, I’m probably over the limit. I guess it’s a taxi for me then.”

“I can drop you home.” Kakashi stood as well, and you both walked to collect your coats. “It won’t be a problem.”

“Thanks,” you said relieved. You needed to at least try to budget after the amount you just spent on dinner.

Just as you were putting on your coats, Kakashi’s phone ran in his pocket. Remembering what he said about only having important people on vibrate, you remained silent as he took the call. You couldn’t quite make out the murmurs on the other side of the call, but Kakashi didn’t look pleased.

“Right… Okay… And there’s no alternate route? Of course… It can’t be helped, just meet me at the office.”

Did he have a last-minute work obligation perhaps?

“Yes, okay, I’ll see you soon.” He hung up the phone and slipped it into his pocket. “Bad news, there’s been a minor accident on the road and my driver can’t get to us. We can get through on the pedestrian pathways just fine, so we’ll have to go back to the office on foot.”

“Oh, that’s not a big deal, it’s only about twenty minutes, right?” You didn’t understand why he seemed so serious about a minor hold up. Did he think you were going to be mad at him or something? Kakashi relaxed imperceptibly as it became clear that you didn’t mind.

It only occurred to you later, once you were well into the walk, that Kakashi was used to schmoozing a bunch of hoity toity rich people at La Liaison who probably would throw a fit at such a minor inconvenience. Those kinds of people were the worst.

“Why did you ask me to dinner tonight?” Kakashi asked. He spoke casually, but in a way that suggested the casualness was being used to disguise a more serious question.

You knew that he wouldn’t stop until he got an answer that satisfied him, and you didn’t want your relationship to be stained by doubts as to your intentions, so you decided to give him an answer as close to the truth as possible. If you started talking about erotic fiction, he’d probably call some kind of doctor.

“Because you seemed miserable, and I was curious about you. Figured this would kill two birds with one stone. Also, you piss me off, I won’t lie.”

“You took me to dinner because I piss you off?” Kakashi asked, a ghost of a smile on his face. “Is that some kind of fetish or is it a psychological defect?”

You squawked indignantly and tried to hit him on the arm. He dodged it, laughing.

“You’re one to talk! You hired me after I grabbed you by the tie in a job interview. That’s got to be a fetish and a psychological defect!” You shoved him on the shoulder, and he immediately shoved you back, and before you knew it, you were having a children’s battle on the street.

A random woman from across the street gave you a dirty look, you stuck your tongue out at her. Kakashi giggled, like, actually giggled, and that sent you into hysterics.

Maybe you’d had more to drink than you thought.

“You know,” you said, throwing your arm over his shoulder, “next time I take you out, we’re going to McDonald’s. It’s cheaper, and I think it’ll be funny to watch you sit there in your suit. Wait, have you ever been to a McDonald’s before?”

“I’m wealthy, I’m not an alien.” He rolled his eyes at you. He seemed to do that a lot. You couldn’t imagine him sitting in a McDonald’s. “I go every other week because my dogs like the carrot sticks from there.”

“You feed your dogs carrot sticks from McDonald’s?”

“Yep.”

“Have you ever considered, I don’t know, buying a pack of carrots?”

“No, because they like the ones from McDonald’s.”

You shook your head in disbelief. Rich people were crazy. “How many dogs do you have anyway?”

“Eight.”

“EIGHT?!”

…

Car parks at night, familiar or not, were unnerving in the way that liminal spaces always were. At least you were almost at the office doors, where Kakashi’s chauffeur was going to pick you both up. You were glad to finally get there, because as fun as the walk had been, the Autumn night was surprisingly chilly, and it was taking genuine effort to remember all of Kakashi’s dogs’ names. You were honestly surprised that the porn logic didn’t add any strange occurrences on the walk.

Naturally, the second that thought formed in your head, something happened.

As you passed round the side of a tall fence, your shirt got caught on a stray piece of metal. What would have been a minor inconvenience, barely a rip, in your old reality, was a complete pornographic disaster in this one, as every button on your shirt somehow ripped off, leaving your shirt hanging open.

The cold air hit your skin and goosebumps erupted all over your chest. Yelping, you dragged the pieces of shirt back together and held them firmly closed. Obviously, you weren’t fast enough to stop Kakashi from getting a look. The way he was pointedly looking away from you, rosy cheeked, said it all.

“Stupid fence,” you grumbled, giving it a dirty look. This wasn’t exactly the first time, or even the coldest time, that porn logic had decided to spontaneously strip someone, but it always managed to catch you off guard. Did the people who lived in erotica worlds always carry spare changes of clothes just in case?

“Are you hurt?” Kakashi asked. He sounded a little awkward, but ultimately sincere. It was nice that he’d decided to go for genuine concern over sarcasm, and you decided to do the same.

“I’m fine, it just caught me by surprise. At least it’s dark so no one caught an eye full.”

Kakashi coughed. Okay, no one apart from him.

“I’ll send a message to maintenance in the morning, but for now, I have a spare shirt in my office that you’re welcome to borrow for the evening.”

Huh, what do you know, people did keep spare clothes around. You were about to decline, citing the late hour and the fact that you were wearing a coat that you could do up, when you realised what was happening. You’d bet anything that something sexy would happen if you followed him up to his office.

“That would be great, thanks.” You weren’t going to let this slide from your grip when he was so pretty. And honestly, he was starting to seem like less of an asshole in general. He was fun, traumatised, and had eight dogs, if that wasn’t your type, you didn’t know what was.

…

Flickering the lights on in his office, Kakashi went into one of the cupboards to look for the shirt while you snooped at the ornaments he had on his shelves. Notably, there were no pictures. You picked up a weird ceramic circle statue and turned it over to see if it did anything cool.

You had passed a security guard on the way up to Kakashi’s office, that looked very intrigued as to why you two were together so late, and why your shirt was ripped open, so you resigned yourself to the rumour mill only getting worse by tomorrow.

“Are you nosy by nature or just interested in my office in particular?”

“Shut up.” You put back the ornament and turned to face him. He was holding the spare shirt in his hand. “You want to fuck me so bad, don’t deny it.”

You expected another eye roll.

“Oh, you have no idea,” he growled, watching you intensely. Oh, that wasn’t an eye roll.

One moment you were staring at him, unsure of what to say, and the next, you were crashing together, lips, tongue, and teeth, in a horny and aggressive kiss. You didn’t know which one of you moved first, you didn’t really care, you only knew that Kakashi was hot and infuriating, and you wanted to kiss him until he couldn’t make that smug face anymore.

Kissing Kakashi was giving you whiplash. He was different to Itachi in every way you could think of. He was confident, aggressive, he fought with you, clashed with you, and he seemed to determined to kiss you twice as hard as you kissed him.

It was obvious that Kakashi’s submission wouldn’t be freely given like Itachi’s, no, you would have to earn it. The challenge scratched at your instincts, and suddenly you wanted to prove to this omega that he could trust you. A good orgasm should lay the groundwork for that.

Both coats were quickly discarded as you kissed, and your ruined shirt fell off moments later.

You had been consciously avoiding his hair in fear of the amount of wax you figured he used to keep that hair style, but one weak moment, as Kakashi’s hips jolted forwards towards yours, you forgot, and ran you fingers through it.

To your surprise, your fingers glided through the soft strands easily. You were so shocked that you broke the kiss. You furrowed your eyebrows as you examined his hair.

“What are you doing?” he panted, confused.

“How the fuck does your hair stay up like that without any hairspray or wax?”

“What?” He sounded baffled. “This is just what my hair looks like. Does it matter?”

“I guess not.”

The kiss resumed, somehow more desperate and aggressive than before. Kakashi grabbed your waist so hard that you could feel the pin pricks from his nails digging into your skin. In return, you made use of your new found knowledge and grabbed a handful of Kakashi’s hair.

You pushed him backwards, never once breaking the rhythm of your kiss, until his upper thighs made contact with the front of his desk. His pot of pens fell as the desk jolted, scattering the expensive pens all over the ground. Neither of you paid it any mind.

When you finally pulled away for air, Kakashi wasted no time, immediately latching onto your neck with reckless abandon. There was something feral about him that was making you hot. He didn’t hold back. You could tell that he was experienced, and he was using every drop of that experience to his advantage.

While he was distracted, you worked on undoing his buttons. It was harder than it looked to remain focused while Kakashi was doing his best impression of a vampire on your neck.

“You have way too many fucking buttons on this shirt.”

“It’s a normal number of buttons,” he murmured against your skin.

“There is literally nothing normal about you.”

“And you say I’m the rude one.”

“That’s because you fucking are.”

Eventually, you managed to undo the last button. Your noise of triumph morphed into a moan as Kakashi nipped around your collar bone. You used his hair to tug him back before loosening his tie and pushing the shirt off his shoulders.

The way his torso looked, bare but with a loose tie hanging over it, unlocked a kink you didn’t know you had. In fact, everything about him was hot. As you dragged the shirt down his arms, you could feel his muscles flexing. Kakashi was strong and broad, and he wore it so well.

You didn’t bother pulling the shirt off all the way, instead letting it bunch at his wrists, acting as a semi-restraint. He tugged at it experimentally, and when he found it restricting his movement, his pupils dilated.

You cooed as you ran your hands all over his naked torse. That’s right, he was a forceful person, certainly, but any shows of dominance were likely performative or learnt behaviours, because this man was a giant sub at heart.

You grabbed his bottom lip between your teeth and pulled it lightly. Kakashi growled at you, but you knew what he was doing; he wasn’t telling you to stop, he was challenging you. You growled back, stronger, louder, and just as you thought, his growling stopped, and his scent took on a delicious hint of submission.

“God, you really are annoyingly hot,” you growled, biting along his jaw. “Emphasis on annoying.”

“Takes one to know one,” he fired back, squeezing your waits.

“Mutual handjob?” you whispered against his skin, already undoing his trousers, before doing the same with yours.

“That the first intelligent thing you’ve said all night.”

“Fuck you.”

You grabbed Kakashi’s muscular thighs and lifted him slightly until he was perched on his desk. A stack of papers tipped over and fluttered to the ground, but that wasn’t a problem for present you, so you happily ignored the chaos in favour of the panting omega in front of you.

You took your dick out from your pants and did the same for Kakashi. They bumped up against each other, searingly hot and unflinchingly hard. You let out a whistle of appreciation at his cock. It was big, bigger than most alphas you’d met, and certainly bigger than any omega’s cock you’d ever seen. In fact, just eyeballing it, he was roughly the same size as you. His shaft was as pale as the rest of him, but the head was an angry red. It was girthy too, and it felt hot and solid in your palm.

Purposefully, you thrust your hips forward, guiding your cock against his with both of your hands. Kakashi moaned, thrusting up to meet you. He could only watch, his hands restrained as they were.

You kept your hands around the dicks, keeping them aligned as you both started to rut against each other. Beads of pre cum quickly made their appearance, which only made everything else feel that much better.

There was something deeply satisfying about what you were doing, especially because you were both still half-dressed. It made it feel desperate, like you couldn’t wait long enough to get your clothes off, too desperately attracted to each other, and had instead chosen to rub off on each other like horny teenagers.

You made out messily while you grinded against each other. Maintaining a consistent pace was a little difficult, especially as things got wetter and wetter, but you managed. There was something sexy about the chaos. The increased sensitivity from being in the erotica world didn’t hurt either.

Your moans and groans increased in frequency as you got closer. If felt like every nerve ending you had was on fire, and Kakashi looked much like you felt, covered in a thin sheen of sweat that was obvious under the hard corporate lighting.

Technically, with it being so bright inside and so dark outside, anyone who happened to glance up would have got a glimpse of you, but you were both too far gone to care.

“You love having someone take control of you, don’t you Kakashi,” you moaned, pressing your lips against his. “You’re tired of always being in control, aren’t you? The big CEO, everyone’s relying on you, but who do you get to rely on? Who looks after you? You want someone to do that, don’t you? You’re a walking, talking CEO stereotype.”

“Who says I’m going to give control to you?” he panted, licking his lips. “Aren’t you getting ahead of yourself?”

“Hmm, nope, I think I’m right on track,” you teased. Already picking up on his proclivity for biting, you gave a bite in return, just shy of where a mating mark might theoretically go. Kakashi gasped, his hands straining at the shirt that restrained them. “I’ll get you to submit to me properly, one day.”

“We’ll see.”

The alcohol and the increased sensitivity were mixing together to make this tryst shorter than expected, but Kakashi seemed to be in the same boat, so you couldn’t bring yourself to care. The banter ceased as the final stretch towards your orgasms started.

As your ending approached, you bent down and sealed your lips with Kakashi’s once more. Suddenly, everything crested, and pleasure flowed over you in waves. Your thrusts got sloppy, but neither of you cared. Kakashi came with a guttural moan. His stomach muscles flexing in a hypnotic dance.

The extra cum afforded by the porn logic soaked both your dicks and your hands, staining both pairs of trousers too. It dripped onto the carpet, and if the security guard didn’t spread a rumour about you and Kakashi hooking up, one of the cleaners probably would.

Some of Kakashi’s cum had even landed on the spare shirt, so you now had a choice between a torn shirt, or one covered in cum to match your stained trousers. Great. Why did horny you always make such bad decisions?

You and Kakashi remained leaning against each other for a while, just catching your breaths and marvelling at how fast your relationship had move. You wouldn’t have believed it if someone had told you during your interview that you’d end up grinding on that asshole’s desk a few days later.

‘I would have believed it.’

‘Thanks, James.’

Kakashi opened his mouth to speak, but the door to his office suddenly opened, cutting him off. You both stiffened, snapping up to face the intruder like a pair of deer in headlights.

There, standing in the doorway with the expression of a man who was entirely done with life, was Kakashi’s chauffeur. Instead of an apology of any kind, the man just sighed.

“The car is downstairs when you are ready. Please try and clean up before getting in, the leather won’t forget these kinds of smells easily.” With that, he left, shutting the door firmly behind him.

You and Kakashi looked at each other, then to the door, and then to each other, before you both burst out laughing.

What a way to end the night.

Next Chapter

[pugh-bug]

No.42 Chapter 2

Art Donaldson x reader : slow burn friends to lovers

I really hope you enjoy this Chapter, I’m enjoying writing this a lot. Somehow I’ve never done proper friends to lovers before, I tend to do established relationships. Enjoy! 🎾✨

Part 1

———————————————————————

It had been nine days since Art moved in. Nine days and you weren’t quite sure if you were more desperate for him to stay forever or leave immediately. Truthfully, your anxiety had never been as up and down as it was now. Sometimes you’d catch yourself watching the door waiting for him to return when you were writing an essay in the living room, only to be met by Patrick and scream at the sound of the key turning.

Your nerves were fried from frantically changing whenever you thought Art might come into your room to ask you a question and from convincing yourself you hadn’t locked the shower when he was home when you had. You always did. It was already becoming a little exhausting worrying so much about him catching you existing freely in your own home but Patrick had no such worries. In fact he seemed to be walking round the flat naked more often than he did when it was just the two of you- something neither you or Art condoned.

The biggest pro to having Art around was that you had his kinder perspective on issues as well as Patrick’s unforgiving honest one. It had already become normal to have Patrick passionately raising his voice at you for not being angrier at someone whilst Art reassured you that it was okay you were giving them a second chance. It was like having a devil in one ear and an angel in the other. You often refused to pick a side as it only riled the two of them up.

——————————————————————

1:45pm - text from Patrick

Staying at my girls house this weekend ;) there’s pasta in the fridge for you guys

Your classes had already finished for the day, there were only so many hours your professors could regurgitate the same theory to you before giving up. With the end of your time at Stanford University on the horizon you’d have to start actually thinking of job ideas that paid. It was a sickening thought, one that your professor kept forcing you to think about but you pushed away.

You clicked your phone to standby and thought about how you were going to fill the weekend without Patrick’s antics. Art could very easily spend the entire time whacking tennis balls back and forth until he sweat out his body weight but you had no such luck. Tennis wasn’t actually your thing at all, it was the main thing you and Patrick had always disagreed on. For years he tried and failed to get you to play with him: ‘be my doubles partner c’mon you know you want to!’ but you were not easily convinced. You didn’t mind watching Patrick play though, to be a good friend, but the truth was if Art wasn’t on the court you were disillusioned.

By the time you heard Art return, you’d proof read your essay seven times and submitted it. That had been the last job to do before your weekend off and it was over.

‘Y/N?’

He called out for you like he’d done it a million times, almost like you were married. You couldn’t help the way you shot out of bed, feeling elated to see him again despite it not being 9 hours since you last had.

You poked your head out of your room only to be met by an extremely sweaty Art Donaldson in your hallway. He was wearing your favourite outfit of his: red and white gym wear and a cap on backwards. It could have easily looked douchey on someone else but Art could pull anything off.

‘I’m gonna get a shower. Take out after?’

You barely heard his offer, instead focusing your gaze on the way his wet shirt clung to his muscles. He almost missed the way your eyes refocused as you diverted your cloudy stare back to his face.

‘Yep perfect.’

Patrick would be offended you chose pizza over his homemade leftovers but he’d live.

‘Okay great.’

Art had a strange relationship with fast food, he craved it but he was terrified at the thought of any and all decisions holding his tennis career back. You’d already noticed how much longer his workouts were the day after pizza.

Just as you thought to add that you wanted extra cheese on your half you felt the familiar sensation of your period starting.

Lock…

‘Art?’

He couldn’t hear you over the shower water.

‘Art!’

If only you had two bathrooms.

‘Donaldson I’m bleeding to death!’ You banged your fists loudly on the door. Was he deaf? You were going to leave a bloody mess on the carpet if he didn’t let you in soon. A few frantic movements later, including a distinct unlocking sound, and you were rushing pash Art to the toilet without a word. You knew he’d leave the second he realised what you were about to do but even so you didn’t care. In a few seconds the bathroom would look like a murder scene with or without him as a witness.

‘Sorry…’ you cleared your throat, looking up at Art, who was standing confused in only a towel. In your embarrassment you almost didn’t notice, choosing instead to rush into the safety of your room away from Art and his dripping torso.

Twenty minutes of scrolling later and your stomach was rumbling uncontrollably. Like clockwork Art knocked on your door, entered and told you in a quiet voice that the pizza arrived. When you didn’t respond he smiled. ‘Extra cheese.’ Even Patrick forgot to add that for you sometimes.

——————————————————————

‘Dip please.’

Art obliged, passing you the garlic sauce from his position on the floor. He’d sat down there to set up the ancient dvd player (‘Jaws’ wasn’t on Netflix) and never got up. ‘This film terrified me as a child.’ He mumbled, mid chew. ‘I didn’t go in the ocean for almost three years.’

A smile formed as you pictured a tiny Art Donaldson hiding under the covers from the shark he found too scary to look at. You’d never seen a photo of him younger than about fourteen but you could imagine that he was an adorable kid - the kind strangers called ‘a bundle of joy’.

‘I love the ocean, it’s one of the only places I never get sick of. Never.’

Art turned to look at you, eager to show he was listening.

‘Any time my mum could she’d take us to the beach for picnics, you know 1000 steps?’ He nodded at you. ‘That one was my favourite. There was a secret pool. I used to pretend I was a mermaid.’ You suddenly went quiet, remembering one time you fell and cut your leg on a particularly unforgiving rock and your Mum had to drag you home crying because you still wanted to play mermaids. You were a dedicated child.

Art took a large bite of pizza and looked up at you on your little sofa thrown. ‘You don’t do that anymore?’

‘Do what?’

The left corner of his mouth curled up slightly, an almost smirk. ‘Play mermaids.’

‘Ah, no. Not anymore.’

You dusted off the crumbs from your palms and lowered your head, feeling almost genuinely sad for a moment not to still be young and free: away from University stress and job worries. Away from all worries really.

‘Shame.’

Before you could say anything the best scene came on and as Quint recalled the doll quality of shark eyes your phone lit up.

8:16pm - text from Patrick

Her parents don’t like me but I’m slowly winning them over they’ll love me in no time hows art? Is he being boring?

Art watched you type for a moment before making a correct assumption. ‘Is that Patrick? Tell him he owes me five dollars.’

8:17pm - text to Patrick

We’re fine watching jaws rn Art says you owe him five dollars?

8:17pm - text from Patrick

I really don’t.

‘Art, he’s saying he doesn’t.’

Suddenly filled with energy, Art leapt off the floor to grab his phone and type feverishly to his friend. You watched him type for a moment, his fingers moving with impressive speed almost enough to make you picture something interesting. Almost.

‘What were you betting on? Do I even wanna know?’

If it was tennis scores, Patrick usually lost those. You’d been there in 2019 when Nadal won the US open instead of Medvedev and most of the living room had paid the price for it. Rest in peace glass side table. So long red planter pot.

Art suddenly looked guilty for a moment, he put his phone down and breathed. ‘He bet that you wouldn’t see me half naked until two weeks in.’ So not a tennis bet. ‘I said it’d be earlier, yknow given how small this place is and how I sometimes forget to lock the bathroom.’ Now you were confused, Art had never once forgotten to lock the bathroom door. Not even when he was, similar to you, so desperate he sent Patrick flying backwards to clear a path. The man loved his privacy.

‘I figured it was tennis related.’ You shrugged, finishing the last of your pizza.

Art scoffed slightly, before clearing his throat. ‘Not everything me and Patrick talk about is tennis related.’

‘But it is mostly about tennis right, I mean, it’s your entire life. It seems to be who you are, that’s why I made you watch ‘Jaws’ instead of SkySports for a change. Mix things up a bit.’ You smiled, playfully, knowing he couldn’t disagree with anything you said.

‘My entire life is not tennis.’

‘Isn’t it?’

He didn’t respond.

Chapter 3

Masterlist

[luciferlightbringer]

Talk to Me

Chapter 1

Lucifer x Fem Fallen Angel Reader

Word Count:4.1 k

CW: Angst, abuse, lies, slowburn,

Chapter 1|Chapter 2 (Updated through Chapter 5)

Welcome back friends! I will be tagging all chapters now under #punching-pentagrams if the tags ever have issues or if you are looking for updates from me 😊

Once upon a time, there was a glowing city protected by golden gates, known as Heaven. It was ruled by beings of pure light. Angels that worshiped good and shielded all from evil. Lucifer was one of these angels. He was a troublemaker with “fantastical ideas” for all of creation, and was seen as such by the elders of Heaven. For they knew his way of thinking was dangerous to the order of their world. So, he was to watch as the other angels began to expand the universe in their ways.

From the dust of Earth, they created Adam and Lilith. Equals as the first of mankind, but despite this, Adam worked to take charge over his responsibility to care for Earth, and Lilith refused to work alongside him. She fled the Garden. Drawn in by her rebellious nature, Lucifer found her and troublemaker seduced her to his cause. Together, they wished to the ruin the future of humanity with their selfish dreams and ideas, offering the Fruit of Knowledge to Adam's new bride, Eve, who accepted, unaware that this “gift” came with a curse. For with this single act of disobedience, evil finally found its way into the Earth. With it, a new realm of darkness and sin. And the order Heaven worked to maintain was shattered. As punishment for their reckless act, Heaven cast Lucifer and his mistress into the dark pit he had created, to live out his days as the King of the cruel and the wicked.

This was the Parable of Lucifer, known by every Angel in Heaven, memorized, but rarely spoken. His name, or even the threat of falling was akin to swearing, which wasn't forbidden but it was frowned upon. For many eons, his name was rarely mentioned. That is, until the morning his daughter came to visit Heaven.

You watched that morning as Emily, the young seraphim you served under, danced around her room as she got ready that morning, singing and flitting about while talking about how excited she was to be at the the side of Sera, the High Seraphim, later at a meeting with the daughter of Lucifer and Lilith.

You listened and nodded at her excitement, trying hard to keep your own thoughts to yourself. You didn't understand how she could be so excited, being in the room with anyone related to Lucifer sounded like a fate worse than death. You were not important enough to be in the room where it all was going to go down, and you were perfectly ok with that.

"And then! Oh! What about the zoo?! Do you think they have zoos in hell? Maybe we have different animals.... Oh I'll just ask them!" Emily squealed with excitement as she brushed her hair.

You were trying so hard not to roll your eyes, why would some hellspawn want anything to do with a heaven zoo? And why did Emily insist on showing them around? It almost seemed cruel to show them around something more wonderful and beautiful than they probably had back home in their dark pit of evil. But it couldn't be helped, that is just who Emily was. Kind and full of desire to make people happy.

You were a "right hand man" of sorts to Emily, a sort of "lady in waiting" or "aid", and had been ever since the beginning of her time as the Seraphim of Joy. You enjoyed a higher status, that was marked by your four wings, but not as many as Emily's six, which marker he status as a seraphim. You liked being by her side, she was sweet and playful. It was her job to keep the people of Heaven happy, and it was your job to assist her in that. She was gentle and kind, and that made your job easy. She treated you as an equal, even if she didn't need to, you were happy to serve her.

"Sounds great, my lady, I hope you guys have fun," you say trying to hold back any sass you wanted to add to your comment in response to the idea of her field trip with the Princess of Hell.

Emily looked at you with a smile, "Oh! You're coming with us, of course. Aren't you?"

You held a strained smile, of course she would want to include you.

"Oh... I wish I could. But I can't I have plans," you responded coolly.

"Plans? Like what?" Emily pouted.

"Well... there uhhh... there is the updates to the Golden Girls theme park! Now that Betty is here, I figured it was important to meet with her and make sure it is correct...ya know... get her ideas..." you start.

Emily floats over and grabs your hands, "Oh but that can wait, can't it? Pleeeeease? This is so exciting and I want my best friend their with me!" She gave you big puppy dog eyes.

You can't help but feel a little shy when she calls you her best friend, you were honored that she thought of you as a friend, but you knew that was not your place, even though you had been by her side for several thousand years. It wasn't forbidden for you two to be friends, just... discouraged. Due to the difference in status. You sighed, she knew you couldn't say no to her when she got all pouty and pulled the "best friend" card.

"Alright, alright! I'll go... Just... Please don't expect me to be all buddy-buddy with them? I mean no disrespect, my lady... The idea of having beings of Hell in Heaven just... makes me nervous..." you nervously confess to Emily.

Emily smiles and pulls you in for a hug, "Yay! Oh (y/n), it's going to be ok! How about this? If you get uncomfortable, you can flap your wings quickly twice and I'll give you a reason to leave, ok?"

"But won't that leave you alone with them? What if they should try to harm you?" you say with worry in your voice.

Emily squeezes your shoulders, "It will be fine. Come on! We are gonna be late!" Emily grabs your hand and she half drags you out the door and out the the main plaza to meet up with Sera before going to welcome the guests from hell. You bow respectfully to Sera in greeting and wait as Emily and Sera fly out to the front gate while you wait inside with Sera's aid, Lily, who also had four wings like you. You rarely talked to Lily, but she was also nice, more serious like her seraphim she served.

"How is your lady feeling about the meeting?" Lily asked calmly, looking forward instead of at you.

"Very excitedly, as is her nature. Almost a little too excited, but that is not my place to tell her, of course. And what of your lady?" You asked Lily.

She shook her head, "Nervous, but collected. She was very distressed by Lucifer's request for his daughter to meet with the council of Elders. Her ideas sound... preposterous, and dangerous. Just like her father's," she responded flatly, her nose crinkling slightly.

"What ideas?" you ask.

Lily looked around for any nearby souls before leaning close and whisper, "Something about trying to redeem souls to get them to give them a second change in heaven."

You blinked, what? She is trying to redeem the souls of sinners? "Is that even possible?"

Lily shrugged, "It is not our place to ask such things, besides, we have no idea why they would want to try that. It sounds fishy to me, and I think it sounds fishy to Sera, too. We have a system in place for a reason."

"Of course, that does seem silly to try to change things," you go back to your neutral stance and start to think. The daughter of Lucifer wants to redeem souls? Why? That seems like a good thing to try to do? But how could they prove they were actually "redeemed" to even attempt something like that. As far as you knew, this had never been done before. This thought left you with so many questions, that from that point on would start to unravel your very understanding of everything you thought you knew.

Eventually you see the gates open and Sera and Emily enter with two others, a girl with long white hair, wearing an eye patch, named Vaggie, and a young woman with long blonde hair in a ponytail and a red suit, who was introduced to you as Charlie Morningstar, the daughter of Lucifer. You wanted to focus on the Morningstar child but... something about the other one seemed off about the other one, especially in the way she looked at all of you. Specifically she looked... uncomfortable? That seemed like such an odd way to react to Heaven. But maybe a place this beautiful was just hard for a demon like her to feel comfortable in. A pity.

You shifted your attention back to Charlie, you were only briefly introduced as Emily's aid, she greeted you warmly and then went back to talking with Emily and Sera. You liked it this way, it gave you a chance to just watch this daughter of Lucifer at a distance. As you toured Heaven with them, you were surprise by how sweet and bubbly she came off. She talked, mostly with Emily, about how excited she was about the meeting and looked in awe at everything she came across in Heaven. Your face remained a pleasant neutral, but you were processing everything through the lens of what you had been told about Lucifer and the information given to you by Lily about her reason for being here. What was her deal?

Eventually, Charlie and Vaggie were set up in their room, and Vaggie decided to stay at the hotel while Charlie went off with you and Emily to the zoo, and Sera and Lily went off to prepare for the meeting. Great... now there was more of a chance that you would have to interact with the Morningstar child, but you were good at remaining pleasant and neutral. You stayed to Emily's right while Charlie walked on Emily's left as they went through the zoo. Luckily, the Princess of Hell was more interested in fawning over the animals than paying attention to how little you were interacting with her. You exchanged some pleasantries and small talk when addressed, but not much beyond that.

The longer you were around her, the more curious she made you. She didn't act at all like how you expected a hellspawn would act. You know you shouldn't be making assumptions but... something was not adding up. How could this be the spawn of the most hated and dangerous being in all of creation? Either she was a very very very good actor, spinning colorful and exciting tales to disarm her victims and seduce them to her side... or somehow... despite having such an awful and cruel creature of a father... this young woman had an actual passion and love for others. You were worried at how much you felt like you wanted to agree with the latter, especially with how in-sync her personality fell with Emily's. You tried to shake the questions out of your head, again it was not your place to ask such questions.

Before long, it was time for their meeting with the angelic Council of Elders, which meant it was your time to separate from Emily and the Princess. You bid them a farewell and went off to take care of that meeting with Betty White to make any additions or suggestions to the theme park. You had a pleasant meeting with her, luckily there were only a few additions that needed to be made, so you were able make note of them with the construction team and get back to Emily's suite to prepare her some tea for her when her meeting was over.

Before long you heard the quick open and shut of the door, signaling that Emily had returned home, "Welcome back, my lady Emily! How was..." you stopped as you heard the sounds of... something you had never heard before... little sounds in quick secession that would get quieter, she'd breathe in, and then the quick secession of sounds would happen again, but starting louder and growing softer.

You peaked out around the corner to see Emily curled up on the floor right next to the door, face in her hands, making her little sounds. You had heard about this, was... was she... crying? She had never seen anyone cry before. You rushed over to her side.

"My lady? Emily? What's wrong? Why do you cry?" you asked with a slight panic, you had not idea how to help her with this, you had never seen someone sad before.

She let out different higher pitched sound and shook before she looked up at you, tears rolling down her round cheeks.

"Oh (y/n), it's terrible! I'm so angry!" Emily cried.

"What's terrible? What did the Princess do? Are you hurt?" you start to look her over.

"No!" Emily cried, "It's Sera, and Adam, and Lute... They have done something terrible!"

You blinked, you had never heard her speak of her superior sister like that, and you new the First Man to be... a colorful character, but what could he have done? "What happened?"

Emily took a few breathes before looking up at you, "They have been allowing a yearly extermination on human souls in Hell to control the overpopulation down there... Adam has an army of angels that go down with him to kill and erase human souls!"

You sat back a little, taking in the news, "Wait... why... That does not make any sense... why would they do something like that?"

Emily let more tears fall, "It's how they control the overpopulation of souls, trying to keep them from thinking about uprising against Heaven... that's why Charlie was here. She's trying to redeem souls into heaven so that we would stop killing them. She-she's just trying to protect her people, and we have just been slaughtering them! For... centuries!"

You sat in silence as Emily continued to freak out and cry, this was the worst thing you had ever heard of. How could heaven allow something like this?! Sure, the sinners had all earned their place in Hell, and they needed to stay in their place... but the does not mean anyone should be erasing them!

"Who could have allowed this?" you ask quietly.

"Sera..." Emily snarled, you look up at her, and she looks at you... with anger in her eyes, it made you jump, "Sera allowed this it happen, and what's worse... she kept it from everyone! From the rest of the Elders... from me... Only Sera, Adam, and his army of angel exorcists know... The rest of us were in the dark..."

You just sat there on the floor next to her, trying to breathe, trying to work through the thoughts and feelings in your body, this was bad... this was... really bad. You never knew this try of bad could exist, not here, not in Heaven, and you felt it all over your body. Your chest felt tight, your thoughts were racing, everything was a blur.

You looked at the young angel next to you, "What do we do now, my lady?"

Emily's expression went serious and she sat up straight looking at you, "This can't be a secret anymore, we must tell everyone."

Your eyes widened, "E-everyone? Even the human souls? My lady... I don't know if..."

Emily got up, "Yes! Everyone! They have been keeping this secret from everyone! They are breaking one of God's base commandments! Now that we know we must tell the truth! Everyone must know!"

You get up to meet her, "But... that would cause an upheaval! What if..." you change to a whisper "What if this causes you to fall? Like Lucifer?"

Emily shook her head, "If something like this is what caused his fall... then maybe there is more behind his fall than they told us in the first place..." She looked at you, "After hearing Charlie... it's worth the risk... I need to do this. Are you with me, or not?" Emily grabbed your hands.

You froze in place. Do you defy Emily, your seraphim that you are sworn to serve and support? Or do you go against something that you know will make the elders unhappy, and risk both you and her falling? You knew this look on her face, there was not talking her out of it at this point.

You sigh, "Ok... I'm with you." She smiled and hugged you, and you hugged her back. You had not idea what was going to happen next, but you couldn't bear the thought of not supporting her. It's all you knew.

You spent the rest of the night planning with Emily on how you were going to get the word out to the people. Unfortunately for the both of you... Sera had been worried about Emily's outburst in support of Charlie and went to go check on her. Emily was not watching her volume, no matter how much you reminded her, so before knocking, she was able to hear Emily talking out some ideas out with you. With a heavy and broken heart, Sera went to go alert the rest of the Elders.

The next morning, you and Emily did not have a chance to start telling anyone before Emily was brought to stand trial before the Council of Elders. You were brought with to stand witness for the conversation you had with her. Emily fought and cried, angry tears running down her face as she pleaded for the safety and protection of the people of Hell, quoting how the Elders were breaking commandments. The Elders responded of how they were doing what they needed to do to maintain the order in Heaven, and Emily teared back about how they were only proving Charlie's point about "angel's getting to do whatever and remain in the sky" while the people of hell suffered by Heaven's hand. Sera warned Emily not to press but she didn't care, saying if this was the truth that she no longer wanted to be the Seraphim of Joy.

"If you don't stop this now, you may soon not be a seraphim at all!" one of the Elders warned.

Adam sat over on the side, grinning. He was quieter than yesterday, he was trying to play nice after his major slip up the day before when he revealed the existence of the exterminations, but he was still enjoying watching the drama. Sera looked over to you, eyes pleading with do something to stop this. You looked over at Emily. There was only one way you could see getting her out of this, it wasn't going to be pleasant, but it was all you could do.

You stood up and looked over to the council, starting to cry and shake, "I'm sorry! I'm so... so sorry, my great Elders!" You whole room was looking at your now, even Emily.

"Please... please do not blame her! It was my fault! I... I was so excited to see the Princess of Hell, know why she was here. I know I wasn't allowed at the meeting... but I still stood outside of the door and listened! I couldn't bear the news! I've gone mad! Emily came back and didn't want to talk about it... but I did! I made her! I filled her head with ideas of telling the people of Heaven the truth! The angels deserve to know! It's barbaric! All of you refused to listen to Charlie and I can't stand that!" you say grabbing your hair. "Please! Emily is innocent of everything besides being to close to me! Please spare her! Punish me instead!"

"(y/n) what are you doing?!" Emily cried.

"I'm telling them the truth, my lady! Don't try to cover this up for me. You've suffered enough!" you cried, flying down to the floor and standing in front of Emily, fanning out your wings to block her, "Punish me instead! I should fall for my madness! My lady Emily has done nothing wrong! Punish me for my sympathy for Lucifer and his daughter!"

Sera frowned, looked at the others, and shook her head, "What a shame, but not unexpected from you, unfortunately." That comment almost made you flinch, what did that mean? Sera looked to the others, who all nodded at her and looked at you with distain.

"Very well," she said, lifting a hand to prompt two other angels to remove Emily from the floor, leaving only you in the middle, all eyes on you. "(y/n), for your attempt of treason against Heaven and attempted corruption of a seraphim, you have fallen from Grace and will be cast into Hell."

You give Emily one last look as she screams, whispering a goodbye to her. A portal opens up in front of you, giving you a clear but distant view of the rings of hell. Intense fear flooded your body for the first time. You take a step back, only to be stopped by Adam who had flown over an landed behind you, a wicked grin on his face.

Behind you he whispered "See you on extermination day", before breaking off one of your wings and kicking you into the pit, the sound of your screams of pain mixed with his laughter as you began to fall.

What an absolute piece of shit.

Most of your fall was spent in searing pain from your one missing wing, the other three fluttering in the wind as hell grew closer, golden blood oozing from your new wound, your first wound ever. You cried the whole way... out of pain, out of fear, out of hope that you saved Emily from this fate, out of confusion...

As you got closer, you felt more pain sear through your body, but for a different reason. You watched as you hands stared to turn into black claws, horns sprouted from your temples, a tail lashed out behind you, eyes watering as they changed to red, some of the feathers of your wings burned red. More tears burned down your cheeks as you fell, mixing in with some feelings of... anger? You wish that Emily had not dragged you into this... but it was your job to serve her... and you did it until your falling day... Who knew what awaited you in hell. The second fallen angel in all of history...

You realized then, yes, would would be the second fallen angel, would Lucifer seek you out if he found out another angel had fallen? You wanted to avoid that at all costs. As the ground grew nearer, you knew you had two choices, use your wings to ease your fall and risk being seen, or tuck them away and have a much harder hit but hide your identity as an angel. You swallowed hard as you forced your wings to tuck away. It was something angels could do, but it was not common, as it was more comfortable to keep them out.

You were almost to the red floor of the Pride Ring. God Above, this was going to hurt... You braced yourself as you plummeted into the hard rock of the upper part of the ring, making a small intend in the ground from the length and power of your fall. Your body seared with more intense pain, bones were definitely broken, but by some grace you were still barely conscious.

After catching some amount of breath, you looked around. With as much information as you could process at the moment, it looked like you had landed on some old battle ground near the edge of the ring. At least some luck was still on your side. With one good arm and leg, you clawed and crawled your way across the red brimstone ground, leaving a trail of golden blood, before finding a pile of stones that were set in just a way that you could hide. Probably something someone had built for cover at some point.

With the last of your energy, you crawled into the hole, took off your robe, and stuffed it under your head as your felt yourself suck into unconsciousness.

_____________________________________________________________

Hello! Just wanted to let everyone know that this one will have less of a back and forth between Lucifer and y/n's point of view, it will still have that, but it will be a lot more focused on y/n until they meet. Also it might take a little before they meet, but we will get there! Let me know if you want added to the taglist!

Taglist:

@sapphireravensworld @cimadreamer @froggybich @randomstranger703 @tiredlillypad @melday0105 @btsgangleader @hawke1917 @gbshdhd @pandaquick @littleladydemon @wonderlandangelsposts @hulyenl @willow404

[yongility]

NEO TV # I LIKE ME BETTER WHEN I'M WITH YOU. (jaehyun x reader) 2/?

genre: angst, suggestive, gang au, rich kid au, enemies to lovers (kinda), a lil of fluffy stuff. slowburn, series.

warnings: drug use mentions, gangs, fights, use of weapons, adult language, illegal activities, cheating (not on the main couple), toxic family environment, addictions, manipulation, insecurities, illegal street racing, death mentions. jeno is jaehyun's younger brother, angst, smut and if I slip something my bad haha.

word count: +10k? (I really went all for this chapter)

a/n: I'm a sucker for cliche stuff so as soon as this fic popped in my mind I had to write it down, english isn't my first language tho.

I’m sorry if this is too long TT, but this is kinda a slowburn? it might contain a lot of parts so wait for part 3! One of the reasons this is long af it’s because I would like to show you how Jaehyun and (Y/N)'s life is before they get together! So pls pls don’t skip anything I hope you like it!

if you want to be in the taglist, just lemme know;) enjoy!

Jung Jaehyun was an idiot.

But he was a clever idiot, and anyone who knew him would know that.

That's why within Neo Zone, his boss had the trust he had in him. Jaehyun was his best guy, or at least that's what he proclaimed enthusiastically every time the boy handed him a new payment for the merchandise he had to sell in his area.

None of his guys were as good negotiators as Jung Jaehyun.

He didn't know if it was because of the particular and convincing way he spoke or if it was because of the bad boy appearance he had, which made people pay him everything they owed him with just a bad look from him. Jaehyun didn't consider himself good at many things, but he was definitely good with numbers, maybe because since the initiation of his gang almost eight years ago, his only job was to maintain the sale - and sometimes purchase - of merchandise. So the numbers always, always had to be exact unless he wanted his boss to get angry and face consequences.

Because despite being a good worker, Jaehyun had faced consequences on multiple occasions.

His scars around his body were not a deco. They didn't have the purpose of scaring away anyone who stood in front of him. They had a slightly different origin than most people thought. Yes, some were the result of a street fight that possibly took place in one of the underground races. Perhaps from a fight against another dealer who tried to sell in his area, but many of them were caused during his early years in the business, where being a kid with little knowledge of how to handle the merchandise he carried with him, things would go wrong and he had to be punished by his own boss and the elders of the gang.

As he often heard during those years, he learned the easy way or the hard way.

Jaehyun's initiation into the gang was different from what other teenagers in Neo Zone had experienced.

In his own defense, he never believed that his initiation had been extreme compared to the experiences he had heard about, however, Jaehyun had to join the gang at the age of eleven.

Normally initiations took place between fourteen and fifteen years old, but there was an exception with the boy. Families in Neo Zone had to have at least one active member in the gang - commonly the man was that member - and it didn't matter if it was the grandfather, father, or son. There always had to be one if they wanted to continue with the safety of their family.

Because being active ensured you the protection that Lee Sooman could offer your family.

So when Jaehyun's father was brutally killed in what they called a clash in a raid. The next member of the Jung family had to take his place, and being Jaehyun the oldest brother and becoming the man of the house, he had to answer for the protection of his family, at his young age of eleven. The boy's duties initially did not involve business as such, since he was still inexperienced in the matter, but Lee Sooman took him under his wing and managed to get Jaehyun to accompany him wherever he was to start acquiring the knowledge he expected to have thanks to the experiences he had with his new boss.

But there was a time when Jaehyun had other aspirations.

There was a time when Jaehyun appreciated getting up to go to school to learn, not to keep his business running. There was a time when the boy could approach his mother while she cooked, sing together, and dance with his little brother happily.

There was a time when Jaehyun loved to sing, and all those little things that brightened his life even a little were damaged by the businesses he was starting to manage.

Because by now, Jaehyun wouldn't just be a dealer.

Lee Sooman expected a lot from him.

And he hated that he did.

If only he could escape from that zone, he would do it as soon as the first opportunity arose, but things weren't as easy as he thought.

And he knew that more than anyone else.

In the end, the only reason for his mere existence currently and the only reason he endured all he had to endure was for his family, which meant everything to him. It was all he had, it was all that drove him to continue, and it was all that gave him the strength to get up every day.

And because he was the man of the house, right?

And he had to take care and protect his family even if he didn't do it with his own life.

But maintaining that title wasn't easy, especially having a rebellious teenager as a brother and having to take care of all the bills that ran through his house.

If only his brother could make things easier for him. If only his brother would listen to him once in his life... because if there was one person who didn't listen to Jaehyun, if there was one person he found difficult to intimidate, it wouldn't be anyone other than Jeno.

And amidst all his complications, there would be no greater one than trying to make a teenager listen to him.

The streets of Neo Zone are not safe at any time of the day, but of course, they would be even more dangerous when the sun set. Jaehyun, as much as he wanted, would never understand why fate gave them that life, if only... if only they had been more fortunate and even just grown up in Kosmo*, his life would be so different.

Jaehyun hated walking the streets of Neo Zone, especially if it wasn't for business, but there he was, walking through the dark alleys that were barely illuminated by the reflection of the moon that had recently filled. His steps were short but firm, as his personality used to be. His leather jacket covered him well from the cold breeze he could feel in his bones, and the rings on his fingers helped him stay focused as he ran his thumb over them. In the distance, within an alley, he could see a pair of cigarette tails being lit as smoke emanated from the mouth of the person consuming it. Jaehyun took a deep breath as he disapproved and approached the group of boys more and more.

Immediately he could recognize him, that blue hair couldn't go unnoticed even if he wanted, what a bad choice his brother had made.

Once he found himself at the entrance of the alley, he grabbed a stick from what once seemed to be a baseball bat and, taking advantage of the distraction of those boys, he made it hit against the garbage container next to him, causing the boys to jump in fright and change their gaze towards him.

Meanwhile Jeno maintained eye contact.

"Let's go," Jaehyun snapped without hesitation.

Jeno's friends and his own brother ignored him and continued with their business, Jeno taking a drag of his joint and exhaling the smoke from his lungs with a cynical side smile. His friends let out a laugh that made Jaehyun's blood boil, and he hit the garbage container again - "I said let's go, Jeno."

His brother huffed as he rolled his eyes: "Go bother someone else, Jaehyun."

The boy clenched his jaw and, dropping the stick from his hands forcefully, he then approached the group of boys and seeing the determination with which Jaehyun walked, the boys stepped back a few centimeters, Jeno stood up and held his gaze firmly on his brother's.

When Jaehyun reached him, he snatched the joint from his lips and threw it to the ground to then step on it. He raised his gaze again and looked at the boys, who were behind his brother with a bit of panic in their eyes.

"What are you looking at? Get out of here if you don't want me to wipe that scared puppy look off your faces and give you real reasons to be scared," he snapped brusquely. The boys simply shrank in their place, not moving an inch - "Haven't you heard me? Get lost!"

This time, the group of young vandals hurriedly left the alley, leaving both boys facing each other, staring directly into each other's eyes and without saying a single word. Only annoyance could be felt emanating from each of their bodies.

"What the hell are you doing, Jaehyun? Can't you go bother somewhere else?" asked Jeno, exasperated.

"You didn't go to the school," his older brother replied with no expression on his face.

Jeno let out an incredulous laugh and shook his head amusedly - "Is that why you're here? To make a scene because I didn't go to the school?"

"I put all my damn effort so you can attend that school, and the least you can do is not skip," he said while pointing a finger at his chest and pushing him forcefully - "And what do you do all damn day, huh? This?" - he pointed at the joint that was now shattered under his foot - "Hanging out with those boys and wasting your life like this?"

"You're no better," Jeno retorted.

Jeno had had his initiation into the gang not long ago. Two years ago, when he turned fourteen, and since then, Jaehyun had managed and had done everything possible to keep his boss from involving him in any business, and to be able to maintain that, his workload had increased, since now he had to do what Jeno would have to do, because definitely being a dealer with no future was not something Jaehyun wanted for his brother. He knew Jeno was smart. He knew Jeno had the potential to be someone in life.

To have a future away from Neo Zone.

Not like him.

And the last thing he wanted was to see his brother being an addict in the alleys of Neo Zone.

"I just care about you," Jaehyun said quietly.

Jeno looked at him with his eyes reddened by the substance he had just ingested and clenched his jaw after hearing that.

"You care about me? You do the same fucking thing every day. And let me tell you that you're not just an addict, you're a damn dealer. Congratulations, you bring money to the table! But at what cost? You talk about caring? You ruin other people's lives," Jeno spat as he lightly pushed him.

Jaehyun wished he could say that those words didn't hurt him, but it was impossible. After all, they came from the mouth of his little brother, who was one of the lights of his life.

"Jeno, we're not going to argue about this," Jaehyun said as he felt his rings and ran his thumb over them "but this is not what I want for you, you have more future than those boys you hang out with, Jeno. You have more future than me. It's just that you don't want to see it... this... this is not what I want for you. I don't want you to spend the rest of your life on these damn streets looking for pleasure in some damn drugs and I don't want to see you overdose. For now, it's weed, but if you don't know how to control yourself and don't know how to handle it, it won't be just that. You're not a child, Jeno, and you should know that your actions have consequences."

"Why do you talk as if you were a saint, Jaehyun!?"

"Because I damn know what I'm talking about !" the older one exclaimed, about to explode and giving him a stern look - "Jeno, you need to understand that this is not what I want for you."

"If this is not what you want for me, why don't you do something better than getting into my damn life? Why don't you start with yourself, huh? How do you expect this not to be part of me if you have mom and me in this shitty place?"

"I'm trying, Jeno... I..."

"Trying? How? By selling more kilos every day? That doesn't help at all, Jaehyun! Why don't you do something else? Why didn't you get us out of here when you could?" he questioned as he approached him again until they were face to face. Both with a firm gaze, without hesitating and without flinching.

"Oh, I know," Jeno muttered - "you don't do shit because you're afraid of ending up like poor Sicheng, right?" - he blurted out.

And that was the last straw.

By inertia and upon hearing that name, Jaehyun's arm lifted and went to punch his younger brother's cheek, causing the area to immediately turn red and Jeno's face to move to the side. The blue-haired boy brought his hand to his cheek and slowly returned his gaze to his brother, finding a bit of regret in his eyes.

"Don't ever mention Winwin like that again," Jaehyun requested without moving.

"Fuck you."

Jeno lightly pushed Jaehyun and walked briskly out of the alley they were in.

And then Jaehyun found himself alone with regret running through his body.

If only things were simpler.

_____________________________________________

"Did you go to Neo Zone!?" Jungwoo's exclamation made (Y/N) jump in her place and quickly approach him to cover his mouth with her own hands while giving him a stern look.

"Shut up, Woo, my mother can hear you!" she retorted almost in a whisper but agitatedly. Then she removed her hand from the boy's mouth and sat down next to him on the bed.

"Are you crazy? What were you doing there on a Friday night?" he asked, accusing her. They remained silent for a few seconds, then Jungwoo jumped on the bed and looked at her in surprise.

"Who are you fucking and why didn't you tell me anything!?”

(Y/N) widened her eyes and quickly shook her head.

"None of that! God, Jungwoo, you're an idiot," she lightly tapped his head with the palm of her hand.

"I'm not seeing anyone."

The boy rubbed his head with a small pout and then looked at her curiously.

"So?"

"It was for Daeho," the girl declared.

Jungwoo rolled his eyes dramatically and stood up from the bed to stand right in front of her, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Now, what trouble did that idiot get himself into?"

With a heavy sigh, the girl looked at her hands and slightly shrunk in her place. "A big one, Jungwoo. You should have seen how he came home on Friday."

"What happened?"

"Well, what do you think happened? The idiot bought drugs and didn't pay on time. And to make matters worse, he decided to buy them from Jaehyun and made him go to Neo Zone. Apparently, his boss got angry about the debt, and believe me, he was very angry."

"And what have they done to Daeho?" he questioned her again, this time with concern in his voice.

"They beat him up, Jungwoo. He's covered in bruises and they've split his lip and eyebrow," she explained frustratedly.

"Was it Jaehyun?"

"Huh?"

"Did Jaehyun beat him up?"

"No. No, Jaehyun was with me when that happened," she commented while sighing. "But I don't know what to do, Jungwoo. I'm really worried about Daeho. I'm afraid something like that might happen again and it'll end up worse."

Jungwoo looked at her in silence for a few seconds and then sat back down beside her, taking her hands in his and giving her a slight squeeze as a show of support.

"(Y/N), I know it's not my business and you're worried about your cousin, but Daeho is not a child anymore. You can't go through life trying to fix his mistakes. He knows what he's doing, and he should know the consequences behind it," he explained gently. She took a deep breath and cleared her throat, trying to dispel the knot that threatened to form.

"I know, Jungwoo, it's just that..." she paused to take a breath, "I'm all Daeho has. I'm the only person who genuinely cares about him. The least I can do is be there for him," she bit her lip.

"And there's nothing wrong with that, really. But you can't always be by his side, hoping he won't get into trouble. Daeho needs help, yes, but he needs it from a professional before his drug problem becomes a serious one," Jungwoo affirmed, letting go of her hands and putting his arm around her shoulders to give her a slight hug.

"Do you think I haven't mentioned that to him? He doesn't want to listen."

"There's not much you can do on your own, (Y/N)."

It was then that the girl preferred not to say anything and just accept the hug her friend was giving her; because she knew that as soon as she mentioned that she had made a deal with Jung Jaehyun so that he wouldn't sell anything to his cousin again, Jungwoo would surely go crazy.

So now she not only had to hide this from Daeho but also from her best friend.

It couldn't be that difficult, right?

___________________________________________

If there was another place Jaehyun hated besides Neo Zone, it would be the principal's office. He wouldn't have enough fingers and toes to count the number of times he found himself in that same position, sitting in a leather chair, with Principal Kim in front of him giving him a disapproving look.

"I can't do much this time, Jaehyun" the principal spoke and removed his glasses from his face to pinch the bridge of his nose with his fingers, "if you don't improve your grades, I'll have to expel you. I don't have any other excuse not to do it."

"But you have to do something" Jaehyun retorted, raising one of his eyebrows and crossing his arms, causing the principal to clear his throat and rest his glasses on his desk.

"Jaehyun, I can't keep covering up everything you do and don't improve even a little. The teachers don't want you here anymore, and if you don't raise your average, there's nothing I can do.

The boy sighed heavily and bit his lower lip. Then, the image of a Hwang came to his mind, and he smiled slightly.

"Don't worry, Principal Kim. For the next evaluations, you'll see my average clean," he explained with a smile.

"I'd like to know how will you do that?" the principal asked, incredulous.

"Studying, Principal Kim. How else would I do it?"

The principal chuckled and shook his head.

"You're warned, Jung. Now, leave my office and go study."

Without saying anything else, the boy got up from his seat and calmly left the principal's office, crossing the hallway until he reached the courtyard of his high school. He looked around, getting a couple of glances from some of his classmates, who surely weren't used to seeing him leave that office once again and as soon as his eyes located a person,

Jaehyun smiled.

He put his hands in the pockets of his jacket and walked towards the silhouette sitting under a tree, with at least five books around her and taking notes from each of them, and in which she must have been very concentrated not to feel the presence of the boy a few steps away from her. Hwang let out a heavy sigh and then cursed under her breath, dropping one of her books to the ground abruptly.

"Having a hard time, angel?" he teased while leaning against the tree behind her.

The girl quickly lifted her gaze to then look at him with annoyance and closed one of her books abruptly.

"Don't bother me Jaehyun. I have no interest in having a small talk with you right now," she said, rolling her eyes. "How do you expect me to finish all your assignments and mine before the week ends?" she asked, frustrated.

"Speaking of that, I expect a good grade on those assignments. The principal has already talked to me about kicking me out if I don't meet the average this evaluation," he said, shrugging.

"If only you bothered to study from time to time, you wouldn't have these problems," she retorted reading her notes.

"Why would I do that when I have you, sweet cheeks? Business are business, besides, I've been keeping my word" he said proudly. "How long has Daeho been clean?"

(Y/N) fell silent, thinking of a response, and answered, "almost two weeks, I believe so."

"Do you think it'll last much longer?' he asked again, and she shrugged.

"I hope so, he promised," she muttered without looking him in the eye. Jaehyun sighed and moved to sit next to her, an action that confused the girl, but she didn't comment, she simply let herself go.

A consumer's promises were the worst, and they both knew it. Despite the fact that Daeho didn't consider himself merely an addict... he was. In recent weeks, he was more often in a state of euphoria than sober, and the fact that his parents had been away for over a month was a perfect excuse to do so. Hwang feared for him and feared a lot. What Daeho saw as something harmless kept her in constant unease, because she knew that Daeho wouldn't stay clean for much longer, and there wouldn't be anything else she could do.

"At least you're the only dealer he trusts to buy from," she scoffed, shaking her head.

Jaehyun laughed softly. "You know that as soon as he feels the need, he won't only come to me. Abstinence tends to be difficult for a consumer."

"I know.'

"And what will you do? Offer more money?'

"I don't know, Jaehyun," she replied with a tired tone. "I don't know what to do with Daeho, I don't want him to end being a mess."

To the eyes of an outsider, that scenario could seem a bit funny; Hwang (Y/N) and Jung Jaehyun in the same place without wanting to pull each other's hair out, but if there was something that had caused that conversation in Neo Zone two weeks ago, it was that Jaehyun had managed to empathize at least a little with the girl. At the end of the day, all they both wanted was the best for their families.

They weren't so different in that sense, however, they didn't share anything else. They were simply acquaintances with a common purpose and nothing more.

"The evaluations are coming up, you know what that means?' he asked suddenly.

"What? do I have to do twice your assignments?" she replied with another question, and Jaehyun shook his head with a half-smile.

"Johnny's parties are also coming up, and it's something you should keep Daeho away from. You know his parties are not the healthiest and most innocent thing out there."

Johnny Suh was well known in high school for two reasons; first, because he was the son of one of the best real estate sellers in the city, making him one of the wealthiest kids in high school, and second, because of the study groups he organized near each midterms on one of his properties.

The study group that was nothing more than a facade for the big parties they really have. Every two months, students eagerly awaited that party because with Johnny Suh organizing them, how could not be the best? When it came to those parties, Johnny spared no expense, he would take one of his parents' properties, buy tons of alcohol, invite the dealers from Neo Zone, and didn't care if you were from the south or north, you were welcomed all the same because according to his own words: the more people attended, the better the fun.

And yes, it was something (Y/N) should be worried about, because Daeho could never miss one of those parties. Johnny Suh was within his circle of friends, so he wouldn't dare to let down one of his great friends, how could he?

"Cat got your tongue?" Jaehyun's voice caught her attention and she turned to look at him while exhaling deeply.

"No, Jaehyun, and I'm not in the mood for this."

"Oh, relax, angel" he spoke, raising his hands in defense "I was just mentioning Johnny's party, you know Daeho wouldn't miss it" Jaehyun continued trying to rile her up.

"Great timing for my uncles to return" she muttered, angrily gathering her things and putting them in her bag. She stood up abruptly and Jaehyun followed her.

"Hey, calm down, what's wrong?"

"Daeho's parents are coming back during midterms week and they'll surely having him running around here and there, enough reason for him to go to that damn party" she spat, starting to walk away from him with Jaehyun behind her "and as soon as Daeho stops being clean, I'll break our deal" she threatened, turning around to face him.

"You can't do it if I haven't done anything, you made the deal, you keep it" he said defensively. It wasn't the time for him to risk it and not deliver those high grades to Principal Kim.

"Yes, I can and I will, Jaehyun."

"We made a deal, you can't back down now. I'm already losing money because I'm not selling anything to Daeho".

"I can still write you a check down" (Y/N) said.

"I think I made myself clear when I told you that I didn't want your money".

Ding.

Before the boy could reproach and start an argument with (Y/N), his phone rang in his jacket and he took it out of his pocket to turn on the screen and read the text his friend had left him.

“Yukhei:

come to the garage, something happened.

10:30 am

Don't ask, just come.

10:30 am

I don't even know what happened

but they're furious.

10:31 am”

Jaehyun looked up at the sky, cursing under his breath and closing his eyes. He returned his gaze to the girl, who was now looking at him with confusion, and pointed at her with his index finger.

"I expect my assignments by the end of the week" he commented, turning around to walk away from the place and leaving a frustrated (Y/N) behind.

"Hey! Jung Jaehyun!" she called out loudly "You can't just leave me like this! Hey!”.

_____________________________________________

When he reached the garages, Jaehyun got out of his car, slamming the door shut, immediately drawing Lucas's attention. Lucas was sitting there smoking a joint, one leg propped against the wall and one hand in his pants pocket. Jaehyun approached his friend and took the cigarette from his lips, then took a drag himself.

"What the hell happened now?" he asked, exhaling smoke from his lungs and raising an eyebrow at Lucas. His friend sighed and straightened up.

"Jeno".

With the joint between his lips, Jaehyun's eyes widened, he tossed it to the ground, stomping on it, and quickly took a step forward, only to be stopped by his friend, who placed a hand on his chest. He looked at Lucas, not understanding and showing no expression, then listened to him speak.

"Before you go in there and cause a scene. I don't know what happened. Cheol Uk wouldn't tell me shit, he barely said something had happened with Jeno and they're waiting for you inside" the dark haired guy explained, lightly tapping his friend's chest.

Jaehyun's chest swelled after the deep drag he took. He closed his eyes for a moment and brought his fingers to the bridge of his nose, squeezing it slightly.

"Do you know if he's okay?" he asked, opening his eyes and met with a grimace on Lucas's face.

"Honestly, I don't know".

One of the garage doors opened, causing both boys to turn their heads towards it and seeing Cheol Uk coming out of it, nodding towards Jaehyun to enter, so the guy began walking towards there with Lucas behind him, who was immediately stopped by the guard who put his hand on the boy's chest: "I've been told that only Jaehyun can enter."

Jaehyun turned his head to give Lucas an affirmative look, who breathed deeply and stayed in his place. Jaehyun walked through the garage door, which closed seconds later, and headed towards where his boss was supposed to be.

His head was spinning, and only his brother's name ran through it. What the hell had he done this time?

He didn't even know if he was okay or where he could be, and that was eating him up anxiously.

Despite everything that could come out of Jeno's mouth and his rebellious behavior, as an older brother, Jaehyun worried a lot. Jeno was an important part of his life, and as soon as something happened to him, he wouldn't know what to do. He began playing with the ring on his hand as he continued his way, managing to hear a couple of shouts that he knew well, came from his boss; he clenched his jaw, he was right behind Lee Sooman's back, who, feeling a presence, turned halfway, face to face with the boy.

He approached dangerously. Jaehyun held his breath and suddenly, a burning sensation ran through his cheek, feeling his boss's palm hit him. Jaehyun didn't flinch, didn't complain, and simply did nothing.

He knew it was better that way..

He stayed in his place, straightened his posture, and continued to look ahead, but without making eye contact with Lee Sooman.

"Do you know what your brother's little joke has cost us?" the man asked with annoyance.

"No sir".

"A lot. Your brother is an idiot, he couldn't do something as simple as what I sent him to".

Jaehyun's body tensed, and this time, he made eye contact with his boss.

"What... do you mean you sent him to do something" unintentionally, the tone of his own voice rose, catching his boss's attention "I thought we had a deal, boss."

"Are you talking to me about deals, Jaehyun? Look, the kid came to me asking for a job, and I really admire your whole facade of wanting to feel like the responsible older brother who doesn't want anything to happen to his brother and blah, blah, blah" his boss spoke mockingly "but the boy isn't five years old, Jaehyun. It's time for him to be a grown-up, isn't it? Turn him into one, just like I did with you, right? Look at the man you are, boy".

He felt the falseness in his words, and the sound of his laughter irritated his ears, but again, he said nothing, he knew he shouldn't, and simply stayed in his place to continue listening to him.

"But Jeno and his idiot friends go and screw it up, and now it cost me money and a possible fight. Aish, they can't do anything right if you don't teach them" he muttered the latter.

The boy's brow furrowed and followed his boss's silhouette as he walked to his desk.

"A fight?"

"Yes, I sent them to leave some stuff at the train station, and they ran into Yellow Wood's guys, they stabbed one of the boys. Ah! Park will surely want to do the same" Lee Sooman sighed as he brought his hands to cover his face "and if that's not enough, the Yellow Wood guys stole the stuff, and believe me, they weren't just a few wones worth in drugs. There were a lot.

"Sir..."

"Don't try to cover for your brother, Jaehyun. He made a mistake, a big one, and now, who will pay for it? I'm sure Jeno won't."

"Excuse my brother, sir. I... will talk to him, for sure..."

"A talk won't solve my problem. I need my money, or what? Where do you expect me to get paid from? How do I pay my guys for their work? If there's no drugs, there's no money, and you know it, Jung."

"Sir, please let me do something. I... don't have the money right now. I'm paying for his medicine and..."

"Oh, Jaehyun, don't give me the same old story. Those damn medicines don't matter to me. I've helped you enough with that boy, and I know the whole story inside out and upside down."

Jaehyun's fist clenched at his sides, and he closed his

eyes for a moment, avoiding exploding right there.

"I'm sorry, sir. What do you want me to do?"

"You'll take double of the stuff on Friday when you pick it up. You'll have the weekend to sell it and deliver it to me by Monday, and let's see if you can teach that idiot brother of yours how to handle the business properly once and for all."

The boy's eyes widened, double of the stuff in one weekend? He had been struggling to make ends meet with his normal portion, and now he had to sell double in three damn days. If Jeno was okay right now, he surely wouldn't be after the scolding Jaehyun was going to give him.

"But sir, the business has been slow these days, and..."

"I don't care, Jaehyun. I don't give two shit about how you get that money, but I want all my stuff sold by next Monday, understood? If you don't deliver the money, there will be repercussions, and no, they won't be on you, Jaehyun. It's been Jeno with all this bullshit."

Without saying anything, he nodded. He supposed he would have to ask Johnny for a favor at his party; it was the only place he thought he could sell at least half of what he owed. As for the other half... he would figure out what to do with it later.

He watched as his boss pointed to the door with his hand, and Jaehyun obediently turned around to leave the place. The blood was rushing through his body, and he clenched his fists tighter and tighter as he moved.

His brother was such an idiot.

Not only had they lost the stuff, but they had also stabbed one of the Yellow Wood boys, and he knew they would come back looking to do the same. What guaranteed him that one of these days his brother wouldn't come back with a wound like that? He let out a sigh as he opened the garage door. He saw Lucas quickly approaching him, but he didn't pay the slightest attention to him because he was too busy storming towards his car with fury in his eyes.

His friend tried to stop him, but he couldn't, so he simply followed him. Both got into the car. Lucas heard the slam Jaehyun had given. He started the car without answering the questions the guy in the passenger seat was asking and drove off at speed towards his house. Lucas kept calling him, but it was in vain because Jaehyun could only think about how bad the conversation he had to have with his brother would go. The older boy's knuckles could be seen white from gripping the steering wheel, and he could hear him cursing every now and then. Lucas gave up and sighed as he leaned back in his seat; it was pointless to try to talk to Jaehyun when he was behaving like that, so he simply wouldn't bother anymore.

A few moments later, they were in front of the boy's house, where the older one quickly got out of the car, and Lucas continued his steps behind him.

"Jaehyun! What the fuck happened!?" Lucas shouted at his back, and again, he didn't receive an answer.

He aggressively entered the house, slightly alarming his mother, who was in the kitchen and, seeing the way her son had entered, left things and approached him.

"Where's Jeno?" he asked without preamble.

"What happened?" she asked, concerned.

"Where's Jeno?" he repeated, clenching his jaw.

"In his room" she didn't even finish speaking when Jaehyun was already walking towards the door, she turned worriedly to see the boy beside her and spoke: "Yukhei, what happened?"

Jaehyun opened the bedroom door with a bang and found Jeno sitting on his bed, with a bruise under his eye and his lip slightly open. The older brother exhaled deeply and approached his brother, who was already standing up and naturally, defensive.

"What the fuck do you think you did, Jeno? Huh?

"Stay out of my damn life, Jaehyun. I'm sick of it" Jeno spat as he walked towards him.

"Oh, are you sick of it?" Jaehyun asked "Wow, the little boy is tired of me only wanting what’s best for him" he said, feigning a pout "Do you know the stupid thing you and your friends did?" he questioned again as Jeno pushed him slightly with his shoulder and walked out of the room. Arriving in the living room, where Lucas was trying to distract their mother —"Not only did you lose the drugs, Jeno. You stabbed someone from Yellow Wood, do you think that's something funny to do?"

"What? Drugs?" Mrs. Jung asked confused.

"Shut up, Jaehyun" the younger one spoke through his teeth.

The boy looked at his mom and then at his friend, scoffed, and denied as he once again approached his brother: "Jeno went to Sooman to ask for a job" he confessed as his mother exclaimed in surprise "and now I have to answer for the stupid things your son did".

"Stop treating me like a damn kid!" Jeno exclaimed as he pushed him slightly, managing to anger the older one a little more.

"You want me to stop? Huh?"

"Jaehyun, Jeno. Enough" their mom intervened from her place, causing Jaehyun to turn to look at her and shake his head.

"No, Mom. Jeno doesn't want to be treated like a kid anymore? Fine. Does he want to ruin his life? Fine. If the boy is old enough to make decisions for himself and get into things he has no fucking idea about; let him. I don't give a shit anymore. I already have enough responsibility for this house as it is for him to come and add more".

Silence fell in the living room, with Jaehyun and Jeno staring directly at each other. With their mother leaning on Lucas, who was supporting her, and Jaehyun could only catch between his ears, the boys' accelerated breaths in front of them.

"You have no idea what you're getting into, Jeno. Do you think it's easy to go out there with that stuff and sell it like chocolates? What are you going to do when you don't meet the quota? Huh? Will you take responsibility and face the consequences? Ah, right. You're not a child anymore, and you don't need me. So if something happens... Don't you dare come running to me, because if you have the balls to get into this shit. You'll have the balls to solve your problems. Once you enter in this shitty hole, there's no way out" he ended slowly as Jeno widened his nostrils. He turned around and left the house with a bang, making his mother jump in her place, and with tears shining in her eyes, she moved away from Lucas to approach her older son.

"Jaehyun... "she murmured as her son enveloped her in his arms and hid his head in her chest "he's still my baby" she sobbed.

Jaehyun looked at his friend, who only gave him a sad smile and lightly patted his back, silently demonstrating the support he would always provide.

"I know, Mom. Jeno will be okay" he replied in a whisper as he stroked her hair and planted a kiss on the top of her head "I promise you that someday I'll get you out of here, even if I have to stay behind"

His mother raised her head to look into her son's eyes, and a tear rolled down her cheek: "Jaehyun, I can't take this anymore. You're my children, I don't want to see you both ruined, I can't" the boy choked up and once again caressed her hair.

"I'll get you out of here, someday I'll be able to do it, including him. I'll get all four of us out of here, I promise you".

His mom nodded with another tear running down her face and pressed her lips slightly. Jaehyun moved away from her and moved towards Lucas, to nod his head indicating that he should accompany him out of the house. Both boys walked in silence towards the door, where they were stopped after hearing the words that came out of Mrs. Jung's mouth.

"Don't end up like your father, Jaehyun."

The weight those words carried was something the boy couldn't believe.

Because that was something he wasn't sure he could promise.

______________________________________________

Once her uncles set foot in the city, it would be total chaos. It was something that (Y/N) knew, something she was aware of, which was why she simply hated the thought of it happening for two simple reasons: first, because then she would have to be even more attentive to her cousin and his possible impending collapse due to the pressure his parents put on him as soon as they arrived in the city.

And second, because their arrival meant a family dinner at her house; which had no other result than to talk once again about the future that awaited both of them and the vast comparisons their mothers loved to make between them, creating an endless discord: to see which family had more than the other, or to allude to who had a better present and future than the other.

At her ripe eighteen years, (T/N) never managed to understand the dynamics of her family. Were all families like hers? She didn't understand why her father and uncle had this constant competition between them; as brothers, it was the last thing they should have. Did money eventually turn you into such a person? Was it something that Daeho and she would become when they were responsible for the companies? She couldn't wrap her head around that scenario, the last thing she would want is for there to be some kind of conflict between them when they both needed each other, both had each other's backs, and both were the support for each other.

What a great family environment existed in that residence.

And if she could add a third reason: it was that she hated having to behave like the perfect daughter everyone expected her to be.

Coincidentally and to her own misfortune, the dinner at her parents' house was on the same night as Johnny Suh's party.

One more concern to her list.

With the faint reflections of the moon on her room and the gentle breeze coming through her large window, she gave one last careful look in her mirror, observing her figure wrapped in a black dress that ended just above her knee, a white and fluffy sweater that covered her from the coolness of the night, and her platform boots that complemented the style of the rest of her outfit.

She sighed... approached her dresser, picking up the first pair of earrings she saw to put them on her ears and let out another sigh. She never understood the formality of dinners at home, in the end, it was just her parents, her two uncles, Daeho, and herself who would end up sitting at the long dining table, but what she did know was that if she dared to come down with any outfit that didn't please her mother enough... she would instantly make her go back to change her clothes to something more suitable for her... or for them rather. Because according to her mother; you never know who the next person you might meet is.

Yes, even in her own home.

Where there wouldn't be more than six people.

She had tried multiple times to get in touch with Daeho since early in the morning, as soon as she had found out that her uncles' flight had arrived, however, he didn't answer her calls or text messages; which was enough to make (Y/N) nervously bite her nails. Something that had her tired, she was tired of living like this, worrying about everyone but herself, but if she didn't worry about her cousin the way she did, who would?

She was well aware that Daeho was not a child of five years to be in charge of, but sometimes she felt like he was. With the little attention he received from his parents and all the attachment and emotional dependence he had developed towards his cousin, (Y/N) had no choice but to fulfill that role, but... how much more would it consume of her?

She was grateful to have Kim Jungwoo in her life; the only sincere friend who had crossed her path. False friendships that could arise around her were no surprise to the girl: status was everything. If you wanted people to see you well, recognize you for something, and not sideline you, you had to hang out with people of your same level. (Y/N) tried to remember all those times she tried to create friendships, but ones that were sincere, each of those times ended in a failed attempt when she realized that people didn't really care about her but the great dollar sign that pursued her as if it were an ornament.

What a fake life.

That's why the affection she had for Jungwoo was immense. The only person who gave herself the opportunity to get to know her without judging her, the only person with whom she didn't have to maintain a whole facade.

She hated pretending; everyone thought she was perfect, that her life was perfect, the presentation she always carried was perfect, they even thought her family was perfect; she had spent the last few years of her life trying to keep up appearances, continuing with the facade that her parents and uncles had created and if Daeho screwed up, it all fell on her, because she was the one who had to fix it, because she was the one who had to assure everyone that everything was fine in her family... because if she let her guard down and showed her reality; the dream world that the Hwang family had invested so much in pretending would come crashing down like a freshly kicked sandcastle.

And so, seconds turned into minutes and minutes into hours and when she least expected it, she found herself uncomfortably seated between her mother and Daeho, with a plate of food that, for the moment, didn't look appetizing at all and with her leg bouncing slightly from the anxiety emanating from feeling the tense atmosphere she was wrapped in.

Her mind was elsewhere. The last thing her ears had captured was the conversation her uncle had created about his recent trip to New York, where he had signed a couple of agreements and where... she couldn't remember anything else.

It reminded her a lot of her childhood, where they would both sit for hours beside their parents listening to them talk about business, money, agreements, and a thousand things that at her age they wouldn't understand but that according to their parents, getting involved from an early age in the world they lived in would help them shape their future.

In a way, she felt like her childhood had been stolen. Instead of being able to go out to the huge yard of her house to play like any normal child, she had to stay inside to attend one of her mother's arranged classes for her. Instead of listening to a story that her father had to tell her before going to sleep, she found herself with the stories he told her about "how he became the successful businessman he was and how she had to do the same" or the times when they always wanted to include her in the adult world when she was barely in elementary school.

But she never complained... at least she had a family and a roof over her head, she convinced herself of the luck she had of being born into the family she had... a total privilege.

When she lifted her eyes from the fixed point they had been pinned to, she could notice out of the corner of her eye how Daeho simply limited himself to eating in silence, nodding from time to time and feigning a smile here and there, moving his cutlery slightly and taking small bites of his food.

At least she wasn't the only anxious person at the table.

Her gaze lifted when her name came out of her mother's mouth, who was watching her expectantly with a smirk: “Isn't that right, sweetheart?” her mother inquired.

“Hmm, excuse me?” she questioned with a small voice as the adults' gazes were fixed on her.

“Oh, sweetheart, it's disrespectful not to pay attention to the matters discussed at the table” her mother gave her a fake smile that simply made the girl change her gaze to her hands resting on her lap and tilt her head in apology, causing her mother to let out a snort that was only heard by her “Your uncles and we have been talking about the fact that Daeho and you are about to graduate, we believe it's time to start looking at which universities you'll get into” her mother explained, staring at her intently “although, personally, your father and I have had this whole life plan we created for you since you were seven, remember we talked about studying abroad?

“Oh! We also want our Dae to study abroad! We had thought about Oxford! Isn't that right, honey?”Daeho's mother spoke with enthusiasm addressing her husband, who only smiled as he nodded.

(Y/N) and Daeho shared glances for a couple of seconds, precipitating what was to come, and smiled sadly at each other.

“Umh, mom? I don't think this is something we should discuss right now... there's still a little time before we graduate. I don't think it's a... necessary topic right now...”

The girl was interrupted by a gasp from her mother, who looked slightly offended and placed a hand on her chest, shaking her head from side to side.

“You say there's still time? (Y/N), you graduate in a year, do you think that's little time? We should start looking at universities, especially if we want to send you abroad.”

Taking a breath in surprise, she spoke: “Mom, abroad?” the girl let out a sigh “I don't think it's necessary, I mean... Seoul has incredible universities and curriculums, it's not necessary to go far from home...”

“Seoul?” her mother asked incredulously “Do you think I, your mother, will send you to some mediocre university in Seoul? You must be crazy if you think you'll end up at any of those universities” she continued with contempt “You, miss, will get into an Ivy League university, like your father and uncle did and there’s no other way.”

The table fell into a small silence, where only the looks of Mrs. Hwang and (Y/N) were shared intensely, when slightly the voice of Daeho's mother was heard:

“Well, we also have to see if she's capable of passing the exams first, don't we?” she said quietly before delicately wiping her lips with the cloth napkin on her lap.

The gaze of (Y/N)'s mother abruptly changed to the other woman, who only smiled sideways in a mocking tone and feeling her cousin's body tense beside her, the girl's anxiety shot up a thousand miles per hour anticipating what was to come.

“What did you just say?”

“I think you heard me right, sweetheart. We must see if my niece really has the ability to pass exams as important as those of the Ivy League, because believe me, dear” she changed her view to the girl “it's not just going, sitting down, and looking pretty as you've done all these years.

It felt like a punch… right into her face.

Was it really like that? Did her appearance speak more than the effort she had put into her work for so long?

Was that how they really perceived her?

She knew she had much more to offer... why were they reducing her to just that? She was dedicated, she was responsible... wasn't all her effort worth it?

Wasn't it enough?

“I think you're the least qualified person to talk about children, Eunji” (Y/N)'s mother attacked “Daeho is no delicate flower, the disaster he is when you don't pay attention to him...”

The eyes of the mentioned boy widened and immediately (Y/N) dropped her hands on her table and got up from her seat.

“Mom! Stop this” the girl exclaimed.

“Do you think I'm going to let this woman come to my house to talk about you and my family like that, when we welcomed her with open arms?” her mother reproached, standing in front of her.

“You don't have any right to talk about mine either” now Eunji joined the conversation.

“Oh, come on, Eunji, stop being so blind and realize the kind of son you have.”

Daeho didn't need to be there anymore, which was why he fleetingly got up from his seat and without saying more, left the house with more haste than his cousin had ever seen. (Y/N) dropped her cloth napkin on the table with noticeable annoyance to try to go after her cousin, it was when her mother took her by the arm, squeezing firmly.

“Don't you dare set foot outside this house.”

She didn't know if it was the anger running through her veins or the tiredness of always wanting to do what her mother thought was right; but she didn't need to think twice when without looking back she went out the large door of her house, taking the keys to her car on the way. Her throat felt weird, she didn't want to waste a single tear. She shouldn't. With her hands slightly trembling and biting her lip, she took her cell phone and pressed a couple of numbers on it, waiting for the other line to answer.

With heavy breaths and sitting in the driver's seat of her car, she listened to the rings her phone produced and when she finally heard a response, she spoke quickly:

“Jungwoo, I'm sorry for calling late, but there’s a party we need to go”.

_____________________________________________

The scenario in which Jung Jaehyun found himself was not unfamiliar to him. His ears had been ringing from a few meters away before he arrived at one of the Suh residences; with Wong Lucas by his side and stepping out of his own car: a BMW M2, a car that he had won from a rich kid in one of his many bets a few months ago, thanks to his luck and his driving skills.

And since then, it had become his favorite car. Luckily, he could occasionally take it to his friend Taeyong's workshop to make some adjustments and add a couple of details to make the car even better.

Entering the mansion, he could see some familiar faces a few meters away from him. Some greeted him warmly as their dealer was just entering, while others tried to avoid him like the plague. Either way, Jaehyun didn't care how they looked at him.

He came with a single purpose in mind.

It was incredible to see how much someone like Johnny Suh could invest in one of his parties: it was crazy to see how he splurged everything for a simple night. However, that was his perfect hook for his businesses, and if he had to give double the money to Sooman by Monday, he had to get started right away.

Without exchanging a single word with Lucas and lightly taking him by the arm, he brought him closer to the wall; from his pocket, he took out a couple of small bags and immediately handed them to his friend, who only nodded, understanding everything and putting what Jaehyun had given him into the pockets of his jacket. They hugged with a quick pat on the back, and again, without saying anything, they separated.

Observing the environment cautiously, Jaehyun went into the luxurious house, trying to blend in with the people there. His ears were still ringing, and the smell of marijuana reached his nose. He inhaled subtly and relaxed his posture when Johnny Suh's figure stood in front of him.

"Jung Jaehyun!" the guy exclaimed, opening his arms. "Welcome to the Suh residence, my favorite dealer. What do you have for me this wonderful night?" he asked curiously while waving his hands.

Jaehyun put his hand in his pocket and carefully showed him the contents he had there, causing Johnny to smile ecstatically.

"Half or an ounce?" Jaehyun asked, putting the small bag back into his jacket.

"An ounce, my friend."

Friend, surely.

"You know how much it is," Jaehyun said as he took out the small bag again and placed it in the guy's hand, receiving a 50,000 won bill in his other hand in return. "Dude, I don't have any change with me," he warned.

"What are you talking about, Jae? Keep the change and enjoy the night. The drinks are by the kitchen, take whatever you want, and if you happen to go up to any of the rooms, don't forget to lock it," he patted his chest with a wink from his eye and left his sight without saying more.

Even with a bit of evident surprise on his face, he tucked the bill into his wallet and continued on his way; it would be a long night, so why not have a little fun while selling all his stuff?

He didn't know at what exact moment his first drink of the night ended, nor did he know at what moment he found himself among a circle of people who had bought at least a quarter of what he needed to sell, nor did he know at what moment his hand ended up on the waist of a girl who was looking at him while batting her eyelashes at him.

He knew better than anyone that it wasn't time to get drunk, especially with the heavy merchandise he was carrying with him, but how good it felt the slight dizziness that passed through his head, the weed made him momentarily forget everything. When he was younger, he had sworn he wouldn't fall into alcohol so easily, but it was a temptation that was hard to resist, and eventually, weed also helped. For a moment, he could be himself and forget everything at home, in his neighborhood, at work.

But how hard it was when all that effect wore off and he became simply Jaehyun again, the number one dealer of Neo Zone.

His eyes momentarily diverted from the girl in front of him, watching as at the back of the room there was a Yellow Wood guy; one of the gang his brother had gotten into trouble with, selling a package similar to the ones he was selling to none other than Hwang Daeho.

He didn't know what had come over him because clearly it wasn't his problem, but slowly he left the small group he was in, hearing behind him how the girl he had spent the whole night with called him while he ignored her, heading towards the two young men.

"Hey, Chris," Jaehyun greeted with a serious expression. "Don't worry, I'll take care of this guy."

"Oh, Jung, don't get involved when I'm finishing a deal," the mentioned one responded as he pocketed the bills Daeho had given me. "Don't think we've forgotten about the little show your brother and his friends put on a couple of months ago on the train tracks."

He clenched his jaw and could feel Daeho tense beside him. "It's not like I'm going to forget that you're dealing and doing business in Neo Zone territory either, go back to your city and sell there," the tattooed guy explained as he dangerously approached him.

"Look, Jung, the last thing I want tonight is a fight, so stop getting in my way," Chris replied as he walked away from the guys.

When they were alone, Jaehyun stood in front of Daeho and stretching out his hand, he spoke: "Give me what he sold you."

It wasn't his problem, so why was he doing this? He hadn't sold him anything, so he hadn't broken any deal.

Was alcohol playing tricks on him, making (Y/N)'s face appear in his mind? Daeho looked at him without understanding what he was asking for, and that was enough for Jaehyun to let out a heavy sigh to repeat: "Give me any crap that idiot sold you."

"Look, Jaehyun, I don't know what's going on, and if this has to do with buying from someone outside your area, I'm sorry, but dude, you haven't wanted to sell me anything in the last few weeks, and I can't go a single damn day without getting something else," Daeho explained, putting the package away in his bag and refusing to comply with what Jaehyun had just asked.

"I don't give a damn that you can't keep your damn body clean, but apparently, your cousin does care, so give me that," he demanded again.

"What does (Y/N) have to do with all this? Are you fucking her or something?" asked the boy in front of him with annoyance, and now that he paid attention, his eyes were slightly bloodshot.

He didn't have time to deal with a junkie right now.

"Go ahead, champ. Go keep putting that crap into your body, I don't want you crossing paths with me all night," Jaehyun requested, touching the bridge of his nose, feeling Daehyuk getting closer to him.

That guy had courage out of nowhere.

And that's what a substance can do for you.

"I remind you that you're no better than me, you consume it and sell it."

Daeho stepped away from him, leaving him alone and causing him to clench his fist. He was tired, tired of remembering every minute of his life how messed up it was. Did he have another option? No, he didn't have any other option, right now, it was either to sell all that heaviness in the pockets of his jacket or risk ending up on Monday with a beaten body and having to hide it from his mother.

The night was still young, and he had to end up with those empty pockets. He just hoped Lucas was doing his part correctly.

____________________________________________

Jungwoo was next to (Y/N); it had been a while since he and his friend went out partying, and although clearly, she wasn't there to have fun, she wanted to make the most of the night.

The girl next to him scanned the room for any sign of her cousin, but there was no trace of him. The familiar faces of her classmates ran through her mind, and she was starting to feel overwhelmed.

"(Y/N), I know you're worried about your cousin and all that," heard her best friend's voice above the music, "but I also know you need to have some fun. Why don't we do that? It's been a while since we've been to a party; we should make the most of it, and then later, you can kick Daeho's ass."

"I don't know, Woo."

"Look, the same pressure Daeho says he feels is the same pressure your parents put on you, and after the scene they made today at dinner? Don't you think you deserve a break?"

Jungwoo approached the table where a couple of drinks were, quickly preparing a paloma for his friend and handing it to her after finishing it.

"Let's enjoy the night, break away from your home, and be yourself. Not the girl your parents expect you to be, not the girl your business expects you to be. Just the teenager you are now, just that." The girl, although not very convinced, nodded and then took a sip of her drink, feeling that Jungwoo had put more alcohol than soda in it. The boy laughed at his friend's reaction and hugged her by the shoulders.

"Alright, let's have fun tonight."

(Y/N) had never been a big fan of alcohol, especially beer. If she occasionally enjoyed a drink, it was usually some kind of elegant wine that her father had in the mini wine cellar at home; some kind of Cabernet Sauvignon or Pinot Grigio... however, tonight, the acidity that ran down her throat every time she took a sip of her commercial beer was a feeling of ecstasy.

She didn't know if it was because Jungwoo's words were really resonating in the back of her head, where she remembered that, right now, what she needed to do was relax and distance herself from her family. Because she deserved it. So she wasn't sure when she lost sight of her best friend during the night, maybe it was sometime around eleven or twelve at night when Jungwoo left her side; nor was she sure when her head started to feel light after the third beer, but she was sure she was starting to lose count.

Normally, it was always Jungwoo and (Y/N), stuck side by side and never separating, which is why, at that moment, it was strange to see the girl around classmates, with whom she rarely engaged in conversation, but she truly didn't care in the state she was in, because she was having a good time, and especially because a nice guy, whom she didn't recognize, was making her laugh like she hadn't in a long time.

Her phone felt heavy in the small bag she was carrying, especially because she was aware of the numerous calls and messages she had been ignoring from her mother since she had arrived at the Suh residence, and although she knew she should answer those calls, she firmly believed that she didn't want to deal with her and her father.

For now, she just wanted to be a girl having fun and forgetting about everything else.

The image of Daeho had been temporarily erased from her mind a while ago, but at some point in her night, the doubt of whether Jung Jaehyun had attended the party had arisen.

Still, she couldn't see him.

Amidst all the numbness her mind was going through, she didn't notice when subtly the guy she had been talking to for an hour moved her away from the group of people they were with. Chris, she remembered his name, had a slight grip on her waist; something she hadn't paid the slightest attention to.

"Why are we moving away?" (Y/N) asked in a sleepy voice, letting herself be guided by the steps the guy took.

"Oh, I just thought it would be good if we moved away a bit to talk more. You know, we can get to know each other a little better," the guy responded, causing the girl to overlook the hint of malice that came out of his mouth.

"But we were fine with the others," she dragged her words as she tried to move away from Chris's grip on her body. "Where's Jungwoo?" she asked when her inner alarm went off.

"He must be around here somewhere, don't worry; we'll look for him later," he replied as he gently brought his lips to the girl's ear and then moved them to her jawline. "Let's have a good time for now."

A light kiss was planted there, and it was then that her senses returned coldly, and all the dizziness she had previously experienced disappeared slightly; putting her hands on the guy's chest to push him away abruptly.

"No, I don't want to look for him later. I want to go with Jungwoo now," the girl demanded after her failed attempt to push him away.

"Calm down, Hwang. You've been practically all over me all night; it's not time to start playing hard to get, is it?"

"What are you talking about, idiot?" she questioned sharply and tried to push him again; she looked into his eyes with anger and could see in them the way they were droopy, slightly bloodshot, and that's when she could gather who this guy was and what he did with his lif “let go of me now or...”

"Or what? Stop pretending to be a fucking innocent; it doesn't suit you," he said as he, again, brought his mouth to the girl's neck.

And surprised by the strength she found in that moment, with a strong push and after struggling, she was able to push him far enough to release a punch that went straight to his jaw.

"You damn bitch," the guy spat, letting go of her and grabbing her face.

"That would be the last time you touch me, and get that if a girl says no, it's because she means no."

"You'll regret it, you fucking bitch."

With her heart pounding in her chest and her mind still accompanied by a slight dizziness, she began to move away from the guy and the dark hallway she was in. It was difficult to walk when her legs felt shaky from the scene she had been involved in; she scolded herself mentally for drinking the amount of alcohol she had drunk, knowing well her low tolerance to it.

She looked for Jungwoo with her eyes, and it was difficult to find him when her vision was blurry. She wanted to get out of there. She wanted to do it now.

What an idiot Chris had been. She hated it when men looked for things that weren't there. She had never hinted that she wanted anything, nor that she wanted to get away from the group. She felt dirty to remember where his hands had been. How his fingerprints felt on her skin and how she wanted to hit him again in his stupid face.

She felt something strange in her chest, she didn't know how to explain it; it was a combination of anger and vulnerability she was experiencing. The slight distress she felt there could be noticed on her face, surrounded by so many people under the effects of who knows what substance, feeling her body reacting slowly and not knowing where the hell Jungwoo had gone.

When she felt a hand on her arm, stopping her steps, she feared it was Chris, who had gone after her. And with her breath caught in her throat, she turned around to find a pair of eyes that took her by surprise.

"Hey, are you okay, Angel?"

She thought it was the first time she was glad to see Jaehyun.

It wasn't weird seeing Jaehyun in Johnny's house, she knew he's use to come to this parties at the end his presence was required if her classmates wanted to have a good time. What it was weird to her a that in the last two weeks he has seen Jaehyun more often that her own cousin, that always seemed to have an excuse to avoid her.

She didn’t know if it was of the dizziness she was feeling or what, but Jung Jaehyun looked good. All dressed up in black leather, with his neck tattoo decorating his body and his pulled hair back. She must be really fucked up if she was thinking in how hot Jaehyun looked.

But that wasn’t the case right now, she needed someone because she couldn’t trust herself in that state.

And right now, among all the people inside the residence and adding that Jungwoo was nowhere to be found, Jaehyun was the only person she could rely on.

Could she really?

She thought there wasn't much difference between Chris and Jaehyun. In the end, they both did the same thing. Sure, in different areas, but their lives revolved around similar things; situations, people, experiences.

"I... I don't know where Jungwoo is," she clumsily said.

In her voice, Jaehyun could notice the slight clumsiness in tone, realizing that the girl had been drinking, approaching her delicately, now he could see the expression of concern on her face.

"And then that idiot of Chris," she continued with a disgusted face, and upon hearing the mention, Jaehyun defensively turned to look at her.

"Has Chris approached you? Was it something about Daeho?" he asked quickly.

(Y/N) nervously bit her lip to avoid the boy's gaze and again put her gaze on the hall where they were.

Where the hell was Jungwoo?

"Shit," the girl blurted out when she realized, "Chris sold something to Daeho, didn't he?" Seeing the expression on the boy's face, she knew the answer. "Damn it, I'm so sick of this," she said as she put her hands on her head. Her breathing quickened, and she felt her hands trembling. "What the hell do I have to do for Daeho to stop this nonsense? I came here to find him, and then Jungwoo thought it would be a good idea to have fun," she spoke quickly, causing Jaehyun to only catch a few words. "I'm sick of my mom and my aunt arguing about which family is better, then Jungwoo disappears, and the stupid of Chris tries something with me”.

"What? Has he done something to you?" Jaehyun asked, surprised.

"What's the point of having this damn deal with you?" she ignored the boy's words and continued, "I know you told me that Daeho would find another dealer as soon as he wanted to use again, but I had hoped he wouldn't. Now I'm overwhelmed with my tasks and yours, that damn report I have to submit in four days, and my mind is stuck. I don't know what else to do to keep everything at one hundred percent, when I'm not even at five percent," she confessed without thinking, and when she realized what she had done, she lowered her gaze. "Sorry, I know you're not someone who cares about this."

She turned around without letting the boy say anything, and after walking a bit, she heard behind her:

"Come on, I'll take you home."

Her brow furrowed, and she turned to face the boy, confused, she asked, "Huh?"

"It seems like you've been drinking a bit too much, and Jungwoo is nowhere to be found, I'll take you home, even if your car is parked around, I don't think it's wise to drive like this."

"What about you?"

"I stopped drinking two hours ago," the boy replied simply, "let's go."

When Jaehyun started walking, (Y/N)'s steps became almost automatic; without thinking about where she was going or with whom, they only followed the silhouette of the boy in front of her without a word.

Perhaps a few seconds later, when she noticed she was in front of Jaehyun's BMW, her mind questioned what she was doing.

She hadn't made wise decisions tonight.

With her hand hesitating on the door handle, debating her actions and whether she should get into the car or not, with her senses heightened knowing it was Jung Jaehyun who, presumably, would take her home, and with the same, already inside the car, waiting for her to react and finally make up her mind; her body trembled.

The music from the residence still echoed in her ears, yet above it, she could hear Jaehyun calling her from inside... and then, without further thought; she got into the car.

The car, to her surprise, looked clean; the scent she could perceive from it was odd... like a combination of marijuana and vanilla, in smoky tones... and now that she thought about it of the few times she managed to be close to Jaehyun, that was the same smell she perceived, and she couldn't help but think it was a pleasant smell. Odd but pleasant.

Jaehyun knew where the Hwang residence was, he had been close once when he had to make some deliveries in that area; that's why he didn't need to ask the girl for any directions, besides he didn't feel like having a chat, especially with someone he doubted was in their right mind.

The first few minutes were silent, she could hear (Y/N)'s soft breathing above the sounds of his own car, and he hoped the rest of the journey would be like that; until she decided to speak: “do you use as well?”

Jaehyun was taken back for the sudden question and the he shook his head. “Sometimes I smoke weed, but that the only thing I use. I don’t like other shit, I might not be the greatest person but I appreciate my body” he said jockingly. It was weird seeing Jaehyun joking with her. “But really, weed is the only thing I like.”

“Doesn’t make you an addict?” she questions again.

“Don’t think so” he answers. “I don’t do it often. Only when I’m really stressed about something, I can control myself” he says and she stayed quiet for a couple of minutes.

“What's next for you?" She asked out of sudden again, making Jaehyun furrow his eyebrows while he kept looking at the road.

"What do you mean?" Jaehyun asked without looking at her.

"It's the last year of school, do you know what's next for you?" (Y/N) asked again this time she stop looking at the window and she put his gaze in him.

Jaehyun scoffed "Do you really want to know?"

Did he really wanted to answer?

This is the longest talk they have ever had.

"I mean... I guess so"

The boy hated thinking about future. And now he hated even more because some preppy girl had to ask about it.

"I don't know" he said. "I don't think about future a lot if I'm honest" he didn't know why he answer though. He could just not say nothing if he wanted to.

"But you should" (Y/N) commented. "College is just around corner and there's a lot of options you should look up".

Jaehyun let out a laughter that left (Y/N) confused. Was he laughing at her? She tilted her head, she didn't know what was so funny.

"College isn't an option for me" he said as he stopped in a red light and then he moved his head so he could look at her. He didn't know why he was telling all of this. "There's no next for me after high school"

"You can't be serious" she mumbled. "There most be and option that can suit you"

"You don't know shit" he said and that alone made (Y/N) move in her sit a little bit uncomfortable.

"No, I might not but if you say that there's no other option for you... then I'm sorry, Jaehyun, I think I have to end the deal with you."

When Jaehyun abruptly stopped the car, he was glad that there was a red light at the traffic signal.

"What?"

"I'm tired of trying to help Daeho when he doesn't want to be helped," she confessed without even looking at him, "and... I think it's time to focus on me. It's too much work. Yours... mine... if I want to keep good grades, my assignments alone are enough, and if you don't have an interest in making something good for you, then I'll stop helping you out as well".

Jaehyun shook his head: "No, but I need your help. I can't fail. I can't be kicked out of school."

"I don't understand, Jaehyun," she said, changing her gaze from the street to the boy's eyes, "I don't understand why all this fuss about not being able to be kicked out of school if it’s because you don't want to ruin your business, not because you genuinely want to be better in your school life. You said it yourself, college isn't an option for you so, if this is only about your work I don't want to be involved or have any influence in something that is not legal".

Jaehyun's hands tensed on the steering wheel.

"You don't need to understand," he said as he moved forward at the green light, "they can't kick me out of school," he repeated firmly.

"Well, I'm sorry, Jaehyun. I made the decision. I appreciate the weeks when you didn't sell anything to Daeho, but even so, he finds a way to consume. It's not your fault. And I finally realized it's not my fault either. I also appreciate you taking me home, but after tonight, you'll go your way and I'll go mine."

"So you're okay with me being kicked out?" He asked with a side smile.

"We're not friends, Jaehyun" she stated. "We were just helping each other out. But if my cousin doesn't want to be helped, I don't need your help neither. I’m sorry if you needed mine but I can’t keep up with this anymore. Being involved with you was dangerous enough and I think it’s for the better"

It hadn't been long since the damn deal had taken place, but inside Jaehyun, he liked having an occasional interaction with the girl, especially if it was to annoy her... he found it funny every time she wrinkled her nose when she was upset with him or the way she tenderly rolled her eyes after he made a silly comment on purpose.

He might got used to her a little.

"I knew you rich kids weren’t faithful to your word" he said. "I guess I can't force you to anything," Jaehyun let out a sigh.

Another fifteen minutes passed in complete silence, with some discomfort on both sides. (Y/N) looking anywhere out of the windows but not putting her gaze on Jaehyun, and the boy was focused on the wheel.

Anyone who saw the scene would laugh to see two people as different as Hwang (Y/N) and Jung Jaehyun in the same car.

She was sure Jungwoo would laugh if he saw them.

Of course, after she kicked him a few times for leaving her.

She didn't notice precisely when they were entering her residence; it wasn't until the car stopped abruptly, and she could see through the window the immense house in front of them.

It was more appealing to stay in that car with the dealer than to deal with her mother.

"I guess it's time for me to go," (T/N) said, grabbing the car handle, "Thank you... Jaehyun... for bringing me, and I'm sorry I can't help you with your work anymore... but I can't do it."

The boy smiled slightly and adjusted his jacket as he shook his head.

"Take care, Angel," Jaehyun said and then said no more.

Jaehyun hadn't been a bad guy to her during the time they had agreed on the deal, however... for her own good; she hoped they wouldn't cross paths again, like it was before the start of the deal.

Jung Jaehyun was a dealer from the Neo Zone, and she had an image to uphold, that's why it was better for each to take their place.

But what was that she felt when she got out of the car and saw Jaehyun leave without even looking at her one last time?

a/n: taglist is open! thank you for reading! wait 4 the next chapter!

there’s a mention of Winwin, what could have happened to him?:0 idk, you might found in the next chapter, who knows?;)) I hope you liking this so far, sorry but I’m more into longer chapter than short ones. Love ya! Oh I’m also posting a Taeyong au later so check it out!

taglist: @gojoscumslut @bluedbliss s @dear-97 @girlwholoveslpreppyattire @hana-off-icial

[shogunish]

𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗴𝗼𝗷𝗼𝘀 & 𝗶. [𝟬𝟳]

synopsis. you were his mama.

words. 784

warnings. none

note. surprise! bet you thought you'd seen the last of me ✨ i didn't forget about tumblr, just had really low motivation bc i got a new job and it sucks the life out of me. but i hope you guys enjoy this chapter even though i disappeared for so long 🫠

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tossing and turning in bed like a fearful deer, sleep didn’t come easily to little megumi.

even with the moonlight gently filtering through the curtains and casting a gentle glow upon his childish self and the plushies he surrounded himself with, it brought him little to no comfort. every time he closed his eyes, nightmares would haunt him. gruesome images of monsters hunting him down, the blood of his family long spilled and devoured while he was running.

running, running, running.

until megumi would fall into the abyss and wake up with a gasp, his spine straight as a candle and his palms clammy with cold sweat. his breath came out in labored huffs while his heart was pounding against his ribcage and about to break through the bone of his sternum to make a run for it.

it was just a dream, megumi realized.

“papa..?” the kid called out gently with a voice as shaky as a house of cards.

of course no one would answer. it was in the middle of the night and his dad was likely blissfully asleep in his own bedroom, snoring away like dads did.

with a teddy bear clutched in megumi’s hold, he almost silently padded along the wooden floors of his home – in case any monsters lurked in the shadows and kept their ears wide open for any sound the child might make. shaky hands opened the door to satoru’s bedroom where it was comfortably warm. it was a little too dark for megumi’s liking but it was bright enough for him to find his dad rousing from his slumber and the sleeping figure next to him.

“had a nightmare?” satoru whispered gently as the wind and wore a sleepy smile on his face as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes to see his own son better in the darkness.

megumi crawled onto the mattress, quickly burying himself underneath the sheets that satoru held up for him. the kid was about to tell satoru all about the horrifying things his mind had made up in his sleep when he was stopped by you stirring right next to him.

the words megumi wanted to say died on the tip of his tongue.

“are you having a sleepover?” megumi whispered quietly as to not wake you.

cerulean eyes gazed over at your quietly snoring self, hair disheveled and hugging a good portion of the blanket to your chest. you were so adorable – even if a bit of drool slipped past the seam of your pretty lips.

“yeah, we’re having a sleepover buddy. wanna join us?” to that question, megumi eagerly nodded his head, snuggled into the sheets and let his head hit the soft pillows underneath him.

the combined warmth of his dad and you enveloped him and managed to seep through megumi’s clothes. it reminded him of warm, familiar honey that he never used to like but now that you were in the picture..

“is [name] my mama?” megumi suddenly asked, staring at his dad with big, dark eyes that resembled a doe’s.

satoru appeared to be taken aback for a second before he managed to catch himself and hugged his little boy to his chest like he always did after the kid had a nightmare. “do you want her to be your mama?”

megumi glanced over at you. it was you who tended to his scraped knees, brought him sweets after going grocery shopping and made up stories for him to fall asleep to. sure, his papa did the same for him but with you..it felt different. it felt like he was your own flesh and blood and not the child of a woman who left her family for whatever reason.

“yes. i want her to be my mama and you my papa.” megumi answered after a beat of silence.

a smile rested on satoru’s lips. knowing that his son got along with you, the woman he loved and adored, made his heart soar the skies like birds did. megumi might not have been your biological son but you acted like it. and maybe, that fact was lost in the sea of the past because neither of you three cared about it anymore.

without realizing it, you had become part of their family and satoru was happy it was you.

he was happy it was you who had rung the bell that day with a batch of cookies in your hands and shyly asking him if everything was alright.

he was happy that it was you who he had kissed in the park.

he was happy it was you who had taken the role of megumi’s mother and hopefully..someday..satoru’s wife, as well.

taglist. @torusmochi, @cinnamonmon, @risuola, @ayanominitrash, @lordbugs, @phoenix666stuff, @hotvinimon, @stevenknightmarc, @sukunasleftkneecap, @erigaur, @lu-lynds, @staryukis

[bigtreefest]

Chapter 1: The President’s Son

From: Guardian Angel Series

Pairing: (future) Mafia! Stucky x Bodyguard! Reader

Summary: A longtime client snubs you, causing you to leave the life you know

Word Count: 3,629

Content/Warnings: swears, patriarchy, weaponized incompetence, borderline mansplaining, yelling, fighting, mentions of nose picking, misogyny, secrets, explosions, mentions of weapons, strong female characters, no Steve or Bucky yet

A/N: Okay, here’s the start of something long-anticipated by me. I hope you enjoy! Your feedback is greatly appreciated, can’t wait to hear what you guys think!

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

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You stood in the back of the banquet hall, eyes surveying the room like they did any other, as you tried to appear as nonchalant waitstaff for the function. That was your specialty: blending in to the background, and you were damn good at it. Tonight’s job was to do so as your were protecting the most important individuals entrusted to you: the First Lady and her son.

You moved with ease throughout the evening, keeping mobile with your head on a swivel, eyes never leaving your two clients for more than a couple seconds. After a cocktail hour, everyone had sat down for dinner and a round of awards and speeches, leaving you here for a relatively easy period.

You didn’t work alone, no. You were here as part of a group. Part of a company, actually, and it belonged to your father. He ran a security conglomerate which focused heavily on government contracting, ranging from secret service duties, to vehicle brigades, to protection and procurement of goods, virtual and physical, and you knew every single part of it. You loved your job, and you loved working with your dad. For as long as you could remember, you would spend all of your free time in his office with him as he went through schedules, and escape plans, and all sorts of strategies to keep his patrons and their assets safe. You were always flitting around, learning new things, earning you the nickname ‘tweety bird’ from him, which correlated to your codename Redwing.

You’d picked it all up so easily, you were a natural, which earned you your first presidential-adjacent gig much younger than anyone else around. Sure, it started as you going to school and posing as another student to protect the president’s son, even thought you were a few years out already, which wasn’t necessarily glamorous, since you were meant to fly under the radar, but it was an independent job. One that was coming to a close, though, as this was your eighth year of doing the same. Soon, the president would be out of office, and the security detail on his family would be greatly reduced, likely no longer requiring your services.

Even as you let your mind wander, blocking out the droning speeches and rich people backstories, you remained on high alert. If anything bad was going to happen, you had a feeling it would be at an event like this one. An event where everyone had their guard down because it was for a universally agreeable good cause. But for some reason, heading into it tonight, something was churning in your gut.

After not being able to ignore the way your stomach twisted and turned, you had gone to speak to your father about tonight, requesting backup in addition to your other two friends, Natasha and Daisy, who often accompanied you to guard shifts associated with larger crowds.

Usually he was on the same page as you, but lately, your requests had been met with more protest, likely due to your little brother’s input buzzing in your father’s ear.

Your brother, Dylan, had just freshly turned eighteen, and with it came more responsibility in the agency. For being so much younger than you, your father was giving him mountains of control, including this event of your two most important clients. With your request of a team came the the caveat that your brother would be leading it.

Dylan was, to put it nicely, an oaf? Incapable of performing a task without crashing and burning, which made your blood boil. Probably from the fires he created and you subsequently had to put out. You had no room to complain, though, as your father dismissed you from his office.

So Dylan ‘led’ your team this evening, packed with his twerp friends who were more capable, but just as reckless as him. They’d listen to some of your orders, but not without the confirmation of your brother, who knew better enough sometimes to listen to your input.

You let him think he was in the lead tonight, executing a plan you had essentially spoon fed to him in your meetings leading up to the event. There were several backup plans and exit strategies that had their own code names, made by you, of course. All Dylan, or ‘The Chief,’ as he liked to go as over coms, had to do was keep an eye out on the cameras for any suspicious activity around the venue, and be prepared to drive away if he called for extraction due to suspicious activity. That was it. You and your two trusty companions would take control of everything inside the banquet, while two of Dylan’s friends surveilled the outside. Should be easy, right?

Dylan had been instructed to give an update through your earpiece every three minutes, on any action seen in the camera footage. Every time he did, though, it was accompanied by music blasting in the car, and the increments kept getting further and further apart. Almost like he was forgetting about his responsibilities and the importance of this event on your shoulders, should something go wrong. You rolled your eyes and kept a watch of the room. If you had such little backup, it was on you now to do this job, without the team you had specifically requested.

Dylan’s friends seemed to go quiet, too, which you were hoping wasn’t due to capture or something worse, but when you heard conversation about a fantasy football draft in your ear, you knew they were at least alive, although not helpful at all.

You were sick of running blind, though, so you casually made it look like your were scratching your ear and turned away from the crowd.

“Chief, status report.” Nothing. You waited thirty seconds. Silence.

You turned back to the room, the gnawing feeling in your stomach growing as you looked out at the crowd. Natasha, code name Widow, was making her way around with a tray of champagne flutes. Daisy, codename Blossom, sat in a vent somewhere, watching from above and monitoring everyone’s trackers. The three of you sighed and continued on, hoping this night wouldn’t be every eventful, but that’s never how life goes, is it?

“Blossom, report on coms. Is everything working?”

You waited a second for the response.

“All is good, Redwing. It’s a human, not technology error.”

You rolled your eyes for the thousandth time that night, but were pulled out of your annoyance by a searing sound. In the next moment, just as you were about to ask for any other possible news from Daisy, a crackling took over your ear.

You fought the urge to wince and draw attention to yourself. It was probably Dylan finally getting back to you, but the voice that came through was one you’d never heard before. It was low and urgent.

“Get them out of there.”

You couldn’t help the way your eyes went wide and you whisper yelled, turning into the fake plant you found yourself nearby.

“Who is this? This is a secure line! What’s going on?”

You were surprised by the warning firmness of the speaker, it was menacing, who did this person think they were? Was that a threat?

“This is Bootleg. Your clients are in danger. What’s about to happen isn’t meant for them. Find a way to get them to leave.”

You sighed and nodded, although the disembodied voice named ‘Bootleg’ wasn’t reassuring. You knew to never turn down a tip, though. You weren’t going to risk it with clients like this. So you let out a sigh and made eye contact with Nat across the room.

“Execute plan beta sixteen alpha.”

She gave you a curt nod and increased her pace in a way only someone with your type of training could pick up. She was circling to make her movements seem undetectable, but she was ultimately going towards the First Lady and her son. Nat tripped, spilling the tray of champagne on their laps, causing them to gasp and look down. You could tell they were ready to yell, but they looked to your face and you nodded, signaling them to get up, brushing away anyone with apologies or offers for help, saying they were just going to clean up. The rest of the rich party goers didn’t pay it a second thought besides whispers of clumsy waitstaff. It’s not like they would bother to remember the face of one of them, though, and were too busy watching a fumbling Nat to see your approach to take your clients out of the venue. You did your best to move slowly to the same exit as them, and as soon as your bodies were behind the closed ballroom door, you were rushing them towards the back service door to get in Dylan’s getaway vehicle.

You ducked their heads under your arms as you rushed them out, and shoved them into the back of the town car, only giving a quick, breathless word to your clients and your brother.

“Take them home, Dyl. Fast. Don’t let yourself get tracked. I’ll take the decoy car. Go, now!”

He nodded like a bobble head, shifting the car in gear and peeling out of the lot as you jogged over to the other vehicle where Daisy and Nat were already waiting in the front seat for you. They moved fast.

You hopped in, Daisy expertly backing out until she hit the street. Just as she put it in drive, you flinched at a sudden noise and looked out the back window to where an explosion happened in front of the venue and soldiers dressed in all black rushed in through the cloud of smoke. This would definitely hit the news tomorrow, but you were sure your father would commend you for the safe delivery of two of his most important packages.

Daisy and Nat had been by your side for as long a you could remember. When you were in elementary school, you remembered a brooding girl sitting at the end of the lunch table, arms crossed and eyebrows furrowed, with the angriest pout you’d ever seen. You walked over and plopped down with your tray.

“Hi.”

She looked up from her meal and to your smile and simply gave a blink of acknowledgment, face unchanging.

“Are you okay? Something wrong with your lunch?”

She shook her head and took a deep breath, sitting up to eat a tater tot.

“No. Something’s wrong with my shirt.”

You tilted your head to the side. “What about it? I think it’s beautiful. I love Daisies.”

She shrugged and continued to pick through her food. “Yeah, I guess they’re alright. But my mom forced me to wear this. I had a plain black shirt picked out and she gave me this. I don’t wanna wear daisies.”

You giggled and looked down at the plain black shirt on your body. “Trade?”

For the first time, you watched the corner of her lip reach a smile, your new friend who would soon earn the shirt flower as a nickname. That little grin was huge compared to the tight line her lip previously held. That was the start of a bunch of mini smirks and teamwork.

Nat had been around since you were in diapers. Her parents had worked for your father’s organization their entire lives, so when they passed as she was in her teens, your family took her in.

She was always incredibly smart, her wit challenging you and Daisy, but the two of you would hit her right back. The timeline of her moving in with you, too, was a few years before the presidential gig started, but she rose through the ranks with you, through every single job, the two of you bringing Daisy on board who caught on quickly. Your grouping was nearly unrivaled. Nearly.

Daisy and Nat physically stood by your sides as the three of you looked on to your father talking on a podium. Your best suits were pressed and tailored perfectly for the special occasion. It was his retirement party in your family’s backyard garden where he was noting the successes of the company under him, including the recent incident from which the two important clients had been saved.

The three of you lightly nudged each other’s arms in commendation for the quick act despite your lack of backup, a small smile on your face, a smirk on Nat’s, with Daisy looking as composed and stoic as ever. You father continued in his speech, noting the valiant effort that needs to be maintained in a generational business like this, one that should be rewarded and carried on for the generations to come. You stood straight, chin up with pride at your hard work and dedication finally paying off.

“I was a young pup, only in my early twenties when I took this business over from my father. He deemed me most fit for the job, so it is my pleasure to do the same, keeping this line of work led by my family. I’d like to name my replacement, someone who valiantly saved the president’s son and wife. Someone who the son has raved about for returning them home to the White House safely. My wonderful child…”

You were ready for the culmination of years being under his wing. He gestured his arm out to the side and you braced yourself for the good news, except the arm wasn’t outstretched towards you. It was directed towards the other side of the stage and everyone’s eyes followed. “Dylan.”

Dylan was jerkily shoved forward by one of his friends, having been zoned out for the entirety of your father’s speech, but at the sound of cheering and clapping, a smile grew on his face. He waved at the crowd, walking over to the podium to shake your father’s hand and give a word of his own.

Meanwhile, your face fell. It was dragged downward in defeat. You quickly pulled yourself together, though, at a squeeze to your arm. You couldn’t even tell which side it came from. Your body was going numb. Shifting to plant your feet and fighting the burn in your eyes, you looked straight forward, no longer at the podium, although you had no way to shut off your ears.

“Wow, wow. Thank you. This is such an honor. At eighteen years old, I will be the youngest to ever run this organization.”

It seemed like he’s was at least doing well and presenting a strong face. That was rare.

“Haha, I beat ya, gramps! Okay, let’s party!”

You outwardly cringed, but your legs were paralyzed as his friends let out a whooping cheer and the party erupted in confetti. It was getting caught in your hair as Nat and Daisy dragged you away and inside, up the stairs to your childhood bedroom, jostling you like a rag doll. You felt almost catatonic.

As soon as you flopped down on your bed, though, you turned over and screamed into your pillow before sitting up, realizing this act of melodrama was going to wrinkle your suit.

You sat up and sniffled, rubbing your eyes and taking a deep breath to give yourself just a moment to think. You looked between your best friends and started pointing.

“Daise, can you pack up anything you think I might need from here? Whatever I can’t live without.”

You then looked to the redhead who was peeking out the window, watching your father enter the outdoor entrance of his home office.

“Nat, can you gather some home essentials? Food, first aid, some of the hidden and spare weapons. Only the ones they won’t sense are missing, okay?”

She nodded. “Yeah. We better do it quick. Your pops just came in.”

You bit your lip and your nostrils flared in anger and thought, rubbing your hands over your face. “Okay. That’s fine, I need to talk to him anyway. That should give you enough time to grab everything. Then we’re heading back to the apartment to get some essentials.”

The three of you were roommates in the city, renting out a place Daisy’s distant uncle owned, which allowed you some freedoms, as well as independence from the possible tracing of your location on government records. Even under a security conglomerate, you could sense things were going downhill, so it was a good choice to move out and detach yourself. At this point, you were barely traceable. Only one thing tethered you here on a paper trail: the company.

You stormed out of your room and down the stairs to the hall that held your father’s office. You were furious. You had no patience left for formality or kindness, this was all rage. You kicked in the strong oak door, splintering the wooden frame, and were met with the view of your father and brother clinking whiskey glasses, an old celebratory reserve poured in them.

You stomped over to the filing cabinets where your file, thick as a novel, was stored. Next to it, you pulled out two more, no less impressive. Your dad, even though he possessed several methods for tech security, still kept employee information on paper in case he accidentally hired a mole. Everything was under lock and key and 24 hour surveillance.

You dug around in the left side drawer of his desk until you found the cigar lighter, hitting the edge of the folders until they caught and throwing them into his metal trash can. It was only then that he and your brother let words come out of their dropped jaws and awestruck faces.

“Tweety Bird, what’s the issue, kiddo? Didn’t wanna celebrate with your old man and little brother?”

You scoffed as you put your hands on your hips.

“Celebrate!? Celebrate what!? Being snubbed? Overlooked for something I’ve dedicated my life towards!?”

Your father’s bushy brows furrowed in confusion, your brother’s face mirroring it in a mini version. “What do you mean? You haven’t been snubbed. Dylan and I agree you’re meant to run teams and operations. You wouldn’t want to be in charge. Plus, it’s tradition that the first son takes over.”

You threw your hands up in exasperation. Smoke was filling the room, but partially getting swept out the cracked windows that pointed toward the back yard. “You didn’t think to ask me, the one keeping your business afloat, to run it!? No one knows it better than me, but it’s so ridiculous. Just because I’m an older sister like Aunt Kay, doesn’t mean I don’t wanna be in charge! She wanted to leave this life, but I don’t!”

You heard a chuckle rise behind you. “What, Dylan?”

He shrugged with a smug smile on his face. “Aunt Kay didn’t want to leave this life. She wanted the company, too. But Gramps gave it to dad. That’s why she fucked off to who knows where and started that bank vault company.”

You gasped in shock and looked to your father but he seemed unaffected. You turned to him now, disgusted with the sight of your little brother. “What!? Do you hear yourself right now!? Just because we aren’t men!? That’s insane!! I’m the one who saved the president’s family. Not Dylan, me! He was too busy sitting on his ass and picking his nose to be of any help. Maybe we would’ve seen the team coming to attack the venue sooner if he would’ve done his job!”

Your chest was heaving and your face was warm from the yelling. Your father still calmly continued. “Dylan returned the family safe and sound. You were nowhere to be seen. He deserves this step of responsibility, but I have no doubt you can guide him like an invisible hand.”

You shook your head, moving back towards the door between the leather couches of the sitting area, pacing on the Persian rug. “No, no. Absolutely not. I refuse to keep performing thankless service. You’ve made a mistake. I no longer want to work for you and I no longer want to be a part of this family. This whole thing is fucked. I’m out.”

Your father sighed, about to speak up. “Bird, we-“

He was cut off by the arm of your brother, though. “No, dad. If she wants to leave, I think she should. I don’t want anyone here questioning my leadership. The president’s son will back me on that. He’s upset the extraction ruined a designer suit and thinks that I’m the best fit, too. I can run this without her.”

Your dad gave a hmph of affirmation, which sent you over the edge. After all those years of service, both your father and the president’s son still didn’t credit your work. You couldn’t stand this anymore, especially not when Dylan was fabricating lies in his own head about the greatness you performed.

“You know what, Dyl? Yeah, let’s have it your way. You guys will never need to see me again. Good luck not running this thing into the ground.”

You turned on your heel and marched out the door. When you turned the corner, you saw both Nat and Daisy waiting for you, double fisting duffel bags. You motioned for both of them to head to Nat’s car, walking quickly, but they were more than capable of keeping up. You heard Daisy speak from over your left shoulder.

“Bird, where are we going?”

As you barged through the glass front door and put on your sunglasses, you took a breath in of the air that marked your new life, outside the stuffy patriarchy of what you thought would be your legacy.

“Somewhere far. And don’t ever call me that again.”

Next >

Bonus A/N: Bruh, could you imagine being betrayed by your own father like that? Also, we’ll be seeing more of Daisy as the reader for Jake’s storyline in the future.

Taglist: @hawkeyes-queen @ronearoundblindly