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theemporium · 3 months

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[14.5k] ethan edwards was prepared for his rookie year in the nhl. he just wasn't prepared for a rat infestation, an unlikely roommate and to fall in love too. (smutty scenes mostly implied)

aka a fic based in the future when ethan finally joins the devils so don’t take anything remotely seriously!

happy birthday @httplando!! enjoy the belated birthday fic🤠gonna go mute you now before you spam my phone with voice notes of you giggling over ethan xoxo

SEPTEMBER

Ethan Edwards thought he was prepared for his rookie year.

He had long come to terms with the fact he was in the National Hockey League. It still felt surreal but the reality had long sunk in since the day he was drafted. This was his goal. This was his dream. And he had made it.

And he knew it would be different from hockey in any other league he had played. He knew it would be faster, harder, more demanding than college hockey. He knew that he would be pushing his body to levels he had never experienced. He knew he was mentally going to go through some of the toughest months of his life as he settled into the big leagues. He knew he was taking the sport he loved to a whole new level and he was prepared for that.

He was prepared for his rookie year.

He wasn’t prepared to fall in love with you.

More than that, he wasn’t prepared to fall in love and not fucking realise it. Especially when you were his fucking roommate.

Though, when he thought about it, the signs from the universe directing you onto his life path was there long before his first game as a New Jersey Devil.

“Have you signed for a place yet?” Luke had asked him during the summer, somewhere in the days between wakeboarding and sunbathing and enjoying the freedom of his last stress-free summer before he entered the professional league.

“I’ve got a few potential options but it’s fine,” Ethan had replied, dozing off on the sunlounger with his eyes closed beneath his sunglasses. “I’ve got time before training camp starts. There’s no rush.”

And honestly? It was his own stupid ignorance that led to the karma of his current situation.

“We do apologise, Mr Edwards, but there is nothing we can do. The building manager won’t be able to fix the problems before your move in date and we have no available lots to accommodate you until the problems are solved.”

Ethan tried to let the woman’s soothing voice calm him, but it was hard to find any peace in the words she was saying. “So, I’m homeless?”

“Once again, we do apologise for the inconvenience but the apartment is completely inhabitable.”

Because of fucking course he would find himself scrambling for last minute accommodation in Jersey, days before he was meant to meet his new team and start settling in to his rookie year. The universe couldn’t be too nice to him, not in the year he knew was going to be one of the roughest of his life.

So, he did what any sane person would do and had a total breakdown on the phone to his mother. And then he called Luke, feeling somewhat spiteful that the boy jinxed his luck earlier that summer. The least he could do is help him out now.

After Luke had spent the first five minutes laughing because, in his words, “who the fuck has a rat infested apartment in Jersey?”

“Can you help me or not?” Ethan sighed, fingers pressed against his temples in hopes it would ease the ache that had been lingering behind his eyes since he first picked up the phone from the estate agent that morning.

“I mean, I’m sure Nico or one of the other guys wouldn’t mind taking you in. Jack stayed with—” Luke started but a distressed noise from Ethan cut him short.

“Yeah but Jack was, like, eighteen. I’m meant to be a fucking college graduate,” Ethan grumbled, his cheeks burning. “What impression would that set for the guys on the team?”

Luke paused. “You’re absolutely reading far too much into this.”

Ethan scoffed. “I think my reaction is justified.”

“Drama queen,” Luke grumbled under his breath before sighing. “I have a friend that was looking for a roommate, actually. You could always stay with them until your place is sorted. The apartment isn’t too far from the rink.”

“Someone on the team?”

“No, someone else.”

Ethan blinked. “You have friends outside of hockey? Outside of me?”

“Yes, Ethan, I have other friends. You aren’t my only friend.”

“You think you know people and they stab you in the back,” Ethan sighed, far too dramatically (in Luke’s opinion).

“Look, do you want the place or not?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Ethan quickly spoke up. “That would be perfect. Send me your friend’s number.”

Now, when Luke had told Ethan that he had a friend—a non-hockey friend, at that—that was looking for a roommate, he wasn’t exactly sure what or who was expecting. He didn’t like to make assumptions on people when he knew little to nothing about them. It didn’t feel polite.

But he feels like he’s pretty fucking justified in feeling duped by the youngest Hughes brother when he finds out his new roommate isn’t a guy at all.

In Ethan’s opinion, that feels like pretty fucking important information to reveal before he shows up at your door with his car down below packed up with bags and boxes down in the carpark.

Because now, he looks like a fucking idiot when you open the door and he is left standing there, frozen and mouth open like a fish whilst every English word is thrown out of his head.

“You must be Ethan,” you said eventually, because Ethan still couldn’t bring himself to speak after a painful thirty seconds. “Luke’s friend?”

“Uh yeah,” he cleared his throat, at least having the decency to look somewhat embarrassed by his reaction with blushing cheeks. “Thank you so much, by the way. You’re really doing me a huge favour.”

“Luke said you were desperate.”

Ethan wanted to disagree but he couldn’t. Not really.

“That’s a bit of an exaggeration,” he tried to laugh off, though your face remained mostly unimpressed. “So—”

“Your room is the one on the left. Your bathroom is right next door. Three cupboards have been emptied for you in the kitchen and you have the top shelves in the fridge,” you stated, so matter-of-factly that Ethan could only blink in response. “Any questions?”

“No?”

“Great,” and with that, you wandered further into the apartment, leaving Ethan standing in the doorway dumbfounded.

…

OCTOBER

It didn’t take long for Ethan to realise you had some walls around you, and small talk was certainly not the way to get past them.

It was a shift to the roommates he was used to, fresh out of college and having spent the better part of the last four years staying with some of his closest friends and teammates. But it wasn’t totally unwelcome on his part. It was kind of nice to have a space that wasn’t so…hockey.

And it helped that he had his own space.

September passed in the blink of an eye and soon training camp became the real deal. It felt surreal to think he was really in the NHL now, that he was a professional hockey player, that this was his job and his livelihood now.

But it also felt fucking great.

The schedule of an NHL player was no joke and it was certainly not something Luke exaggerated—despite what Ethan assumed during the summer. It was intense and tiring and he didn’t have much time to think about anything else.

Except maybe his ice cold, standoffish roommate.

As the regular season began, Ethan had come to a few conclusions.

One: you were not a morning person, especially before having any form of caffeine. That was something he learnt the hard way.

Early morning practices were nothing new to Ethan. He wasn’t exactly an early bird, but his body had trained itself to familiarise itself with the early mornings after years and years of playing hockey. It was the norm for him, to be awake as the sun started peeking through the horizon and the rest of the world was about to wake up.

He wouldn’t call himself chipper, not really. He was just as energetic as he normally is.

You seemed to disagree.

“Morning, stranger!” Ethan greeted you as you shuffled into the kitchen, with a boyish grin on his face and a spatula in hand.

You didn’t even glance at him as you shuffled towards the fridge.

“Not a morning person, got it,” Ethan nodded, biting back his smile as you turned to glare at him.

“It’s half six in the morning,” you grumbled. “Why are you so loud?”

“My mum says it’s a part of my charm.”

You didn’t look very amused in response.

The following mornings seemed to fit the same routine. Even on the days he didn’t have practice or meetings, Ethan would find himself waking up early and starting his day around the same time you would be up for work. He would be chatty, you would look like you wanted to gauge his eyes out. It was oddly comforting.

Somewhere in the middle of the second week of this fixed routine, he began to feel confident enough in watching your routine to know exactly what you needed the second you walked out your room.

“Good morning!”

You blinked, staring at the steaming mug he was currently offering you. It took you a few seconds to process the sight before you realised you hadn’t spoken.

“What’s this?” You questioned, a questioning look in your eyes.

“Coffee. Made exactly the way you like it.” Ethan stayed confidently, his grin widening as you took a sip and let out an appreciative hum.

“Thanks,” was all you said before shuffling around the kitchen to continue with the rest of his routine.

On the days he was in Jersey, there was always a coffee cup waiting for you every morning.

Two: you were always cold. Always. No matter what the temperature was outside.

In all honesty, Ethan didn’t get it at all. From what he had gathered in his conversations with you and what Luke told him, you had spent a fair chunk of your life in New Jersey so, if he was being honest, he thought you would have been somewhat used to the colder temperatures.

But walking into the apartment after afternoon practice to find you bundled on the couch like you were in a blizzard told Ethan that assumption was far from the truth.

“Did the heating break?” was the first thing he asked when he saw you, a wave of concern washing over him as he dumped his bags at the door and made his way to the thermostat.

“No,” you murmured from somewhere in the pile of blankets. “S’just cold.”

Ethan paused, reading the thermostat before turning back to you with an amused expression on his face. “It’s kinda warm for Jersey in October today.”

There was a bit of rustling before your head popped up from amongst the blankets, your eyes narrowed in accusation. “Not all of us are professional athletes sweating their asses off for two hours.”

“In an ice rink,” he added with a grin.

Your glare hardened.

“Do you want a hot water bottle?”

You paused for a few moments before nodding with a sheepish expression. “Please.”

Ethan huffed out a laugh before he made his way into the kitchen, kettle filled and turned on before he went to hunt down the hot water bottle he was pretty sure his mother had packed away somewhere in his stuff when he moved away from Michigan.

He returned a few minutes later, lightly nudging the pile of blankets until your face popped up again and your eyes softened at the hot water bottle. He couldn’t help but giggle at the way you quickly snatched it from him, murmuring your thanks as it disappeared under the blankets.

“Any time,” Ethan said, and he meant it.

Three: you really didn’t open up to strangers. Or roommates. Or anyone, really.

He wasn’t exactly sure how Luke Hughes of all people managed to wiggle his way into a friendship with you, but it was an anomaly that had been wracking his brain for the last few weeks.

It was a week or so before Halloween and he was laying on the couch, his brows furrowed together as he tried to scroll through the internet for an idea of what he could wear to the Halloween party one of the boys were hosting.

“Why do you look constipated?”

His head snapped up, finding you standing at the end of the couch. You had two smoothies in your hand, the bag you take to your classes still on your shoulder and your shoes still on. He briefly glanced at the time, frowning a little when he realised he had been sitting there for the better part of two hours before he turned back to you.

“Trying to figure out a last minute Halloween costume,” he told you, eyebrows raised in surprise as you handed him one of the smoothies. He smiled as he took it, taking an obnoxiously loud slurp before you settled down on the other side of the couch. “I wanted to do something with Seamus and Luke but Seamus said he had his sorted and Luke said he was doing a joint costume with someone else.”

“Oh yeah, me,” you answered casually and Ethan tried to hide his shock.

“You’re coming?”

“Yeah?” You responded, giving him an odd look. “Luke always invites me to these things. He’s also hopeless with costumes.”

“I didn’t realise you and Luke were so…close,” he said vaguely, his cheeks flushing a little when he realised what his words sounded like. “Not that it’s any of my business—”

“You’re right, it’s not.” You shrugged, taking a long sip from your smoothie before continuing. “But he’s one of my closest friends.”

Ethan nodded, ignoring the way his stomach twisted at your words. “How did you two meet?”

“The strip club.”

Ethan blanched.

“Geez, you’re more gullible than Luke,” you commented, the hint of a smile on your lips. “You ask a lot of questions, Edwards.”

“I’m a nosy person,” he answered honestly with a shrug. “You didn’t answer the question.”

“Because there isn’t much to it.”

And, in your defence, he knew you didn’t owe him any answers. But he was curious and he couldn’t seem to wrap his head around how close you and Luke were—close enough for you to willingly accept one of Luke’s friends as your roommate for an indefinite amount of time.

And, at the crux of it, he didn’t understand how Luke was able to get through to you when he couldn’t.

Ethan was never one to brag but he was a magnet for people. It helped him thrive in hockey, always willing to be that guy on the team that people feel like they could always talk to. It helped him thrive at university, being a social butterfly that could always make a friend in any situation.

It usually helped.

So yeah, maybe Ethan was a little stumped why you didn’t seem to want to be his friend, not in the way you were with Luke and some of the other guys on the team. It seemed like being your roommate added a wall he didn’t know how to break down.

And when the Halloween party happened, it felt like seeing a whole new person when you were chatting and laughing with Luke.

You looked more at ease as you stood next to him, happily sipping on whatever drink he had gotten for you from the kitchen. You seemed more relaxed, like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders as you laughed at whatever joke Curtis had made at Luke’s expense.

It fuelled a fire for Ethan, one he hadn’t realised had been started before that night. But he didn’t just want to be your roommate anymore, he didn’t like having that wall between you.

He wanted to be your friend too.

…

NOVEMBER

Three months into the NHL told Ethan that it was really no joke.

He was expecting the more intense training and physical playing. He was expecting his body to feel more tired, more hungry, more sore. He was expecting the ruthless journalists and vocal fans and tougher coaches.

He wasn’t expecting the mental toll of realising that hockey was all he had in his life.

It was stupid to complain about, considering it was his dream and all, but it was true. Hockey was his whole world right now. He woke up thinking about hockey, he went to the rink thinking about hockey, he made his dinner thinking about hockey, and then he went to sleep thinking about hockey.

Nine times out of ten, he dreamt about hockey too.

It was different to the hockey he knew growing up, or the hockey he experienced in Michigan. Because at least in Michigan, there were classes or parties or concerts or something to take his mind off hockey.

But it wasn’t the same in New Jersey.

There were hangouts with Luke and Seamus, or team bonding sessions organised by Nico. There were drinks at the bar after a good game to celebrate, or a particularly bad one they needed cheering up after. There were fun trips around cities he had never properly explored when they were away on roadies.

But it was all still linked to hockey.

And he guessed he wasn’t great at hiding his conundrum when Nico skated up beside him near the end of practice, throwing out the offer to grab a coffee and chat after they finished their debrief with the coaching staff.

For what it was worth, Nico didn’t think he sounded stupid when he explained himself. If anything, the captain was quite understanding.

“I had it when I first moved,” he had confessed as they sat in some urban coffee shop in a part of the city Ethan hadn’t properly explored before. But Nico swore up and down it had the best coffee to offer. “I was young and I was here for hockey so I thought my whole life had to be hockey.”

“What changed?” Ethan asked, hands wrapped around the big mug his latte was in like it would give him something to do, something to focus on rather than the restless itch under his skin.

“The older guys,” Nico said with a knowing smile. “The ones that learnt how to balance life and hockey. The ones with wives and families and friends outside of the team.”

Ethan’s brows furrowed together. “You think I should go get married?”

“Not right away,” Nico laughed, shaking his head. “But I know how easy it is to get wrapped up in the rookie year nonsense and everything. And you should be enjoying that, for sure. But there’s more to life than hockey, which is quite hard to believe right now. But it’s true, whether it’s a wife—or husband—and family or a hobby or a group of friends you can be a different Ethan with.”

Ethan nodded, a surprisingly serious expression on his face. “Hobbies?”

“Yeah, something different to hockey,” Nico explained. “Something that doesn’t require you to give up too much time and take your focus away from hockey, but instead be a respite from everything. Like cooking!”

He blinked. “Cooking?”

“You cook right now because you have to and you follow the diet plan the trainers give you. But you can find enjoyment in cooking because you want to,” Nico assured him, leaning back in his chair with a sure expression. “Give it a try. What’s the worst that can happen?”

As it turns out, the worst that could happen is that Ethan is a fucking horrible cook.

He tried to hold back his coughs, waving the tea towel aimlessly under the beeping fire alarm before he raced to the windows in hopes they would help get rid of the smoke. Or at least get the alarm to stop.

The one meal outside of his diet plan and he almost burned the apartment complex down trying to cook it.

Go figure.

He had collapsed on the couch an hour later, two pizza boxes lying on the table in front of him as he aimlessly scrolled through his phone. He didn’t lift his head when he heard the front door lock turning but did freeze when he heard you cough a little.

“Fuck, why does it smell like a shitty barbeque in here?”

Ethan turned to you, a sheepish expression on his face as he lifted one of the pizza boxes as a peace offering. “Does pizza count as a ‘sorry for almost burning the place down’ gift?”

You eyed the pizza box and then his face before you took the seat next to him. “Normally I would say no but you look like you had a pretty rough time, so I’ll accept it this time.”

“Geez, thanks,” Ethan snorted.

“What were you even trying to cook anyways?” You questioned, taking a silence of margarita pizza and taking a large bite. You resisted the urge to let out a moan. “Fuck, I’m glad whatever it was. I couldn’t be bothered cooking today.”

“Rough shift?” Ethan asked.

“Bitchy manager was on tonight,” you added with a grumble.

“Fucking Jerry,” Ethan tsked, shaking his head.

You turned to him, eyes narrowed in suspicion. “You’re avoiding my question.”

“I’m delaying. There’s a difference,” Ethan corrected.

You hummed. “Okay, so why are you delaying?”

Ethan shrugged, turning his attention to the pizza box open on the coffee table in front of him. “S’stupid, no big deal. Promise.”

You were silent for a few moments before you spoke. “Is this the point where I take the bait and beg for you to tell me why you’re upset?”

He snorted, but it at least wrangled a smile out of him. “I’m not stressed. Just…overwhelmed.”

“With hockey?” You asked, but there was no malice or teasing in your voice. Just curiosity.

“I know this is what I wanted but it’s just…so much. I’ve never had hockey be everything in my life, there was always something else. And now I feel like I’m drowning and no matter how much I keep kicking, I’m no closer to the surface. And the older guys seem so put together and I was trying to take their advice but it isn’t really working out and—” Ethan paused, his cheeks flushing a light pink colour when he realised he had begun rambling. “Like I said, it’s stupid.”

“It’s not stupid,” you replied and he was almost shocked to see the sincerity on your face. “It’s perfectly normal to feel overwhelmed. It’s a big jump. It would be weirder if you weren’t more stressed.”

He swallowed. “Really?”

“Yeah, I mean,” you began, the pizza forgotten on the coffee table as you turned your body on the couch until you were facing him. “Your life will never be normal again. You’ve been shoved into the spotlight and you will continue to be there forever. That’s overwhelming as fuck. And you’re trying to catch up with a bunch of guys who have been here for years, who have had seasons to figure out who they are and who they want to be. It was always going to be an uphill battle.”

Something in his chest warmed at your understanding.

“Guess I have a lot to look forward to then, huh?” He tried joking because it felt easier than trying to say the words that were getting stuck in the back of his throat.

“I get it,” you explained with a small nod. “Not at the same level, but I get it. Every day I wake up and I know I’m working towards the thing I want to do for the rest of my life but, fuck, some days are just harder than others. I feel like I’m sacrificing so much of my ‘best years’ doing this and sometimes I just…wonder if it’s worth it.”

“That’s intense,” Ethan murmured with his lips turned downwards.

You gave him a sad smile. “Life can be overwhelming in a lot of ways. It’s just about finding things that help us…destress, I guess.”

“Which is hard to do when you’re a rookie in the NHL who doesn’t know who the fuck he is anymore or a student spending every free moment working her ass off in a shitty job with a shitty manager to pay for college,” Ethan added with a sorrowful smile of his own.

“Bingo,” you snorted.

“So,” Ethan sighed as he settled back against the couch. “What’s our game plan?”

You raised your brows. “Game plan?”

“Yeah, what are we gonna do to destress? We can help each other,” Ethan stated like it was obvious. “Like a ‘you scratch my back, I scratch yours’ situation.”

You shot him a look. “I’m not scratching your back.”

Ethan tilted his head, a grin on his lips. “So I’m assuming massages are off the table too?”

His laugh echoed through the apartment as you threw a pillow at his face.

If Ethan was being completely honest, he didn’t think finding a destressing hobby would be so…stressful.

He had tried asking a few other guys on the team for inspiration and advice. It hadn’t been as successful as he had hoped. Though, at least he knew a handful of weird facts about the boys he played with, so it wasn’t completely useless. Team bonding and all that jazz.

But the hobby-searching was starting to reach a point where he thought about it more than hockey.

He couldn’t help but feel like something was wrong with him. So many of the guys on the team had shared the hobbies they had outside of hockey to help relax. He even spoke to some of the UMich boys that had joined the NHL before him for some advice too. But nothing really clicked, nothing shut his brain off.

Golfing was too time-consuming to enjoy during the regular season. The mediocre attempt at knitting resulted in a massive knotted ball of yarn being chucked into the bin. He tried reading but got bored after the first few chapters. And it felt a bit pathetic and mind-numbing (the bad kind) when he found himself watching the third episode in a row of some trashy reality TV show that had been playing.

Nothing was giving him that relief and that step away from the busy, hectic schedule an NHL player brought.

“You got a new potential hobby for us?”

Ethan lifted his head to see you closing the front door behind you, bundled in about five layers of clothing you were slowly deshedding before you made your way over to him. He watched as your eyes went to the mess on the coffee table, your lips pressed together to hold back your laugh.

“What are you doing?” You questioned, tilting your head like it would help you figure out the little project he had been working on since you left for your class a few hours ago.

“It’s meant to be a model plane,” Ethan sighed, a tad too dramatic before he turned to you with a pout on his face. “Johnny said it was easy. He used to do them when he was, like, ten years old. I think he is lying to me.”

You snorted. “Or maybe he followed the instructions.”

Ethan frowned. “There’s instructions?”

You shook your head, trying to hold back your laughs as you settled on the couch beside him. There was a hint of deja vu to that day a few weeks ago—the day Ethan likes to believe the start of your buddying friendship began.

“You’ll find something,” you reassured him, nudging his shoulder with your own.

“I think some of the guys are just messing with me with some of the hobbies they suggest,” Ethan confessed. “Curtis does not seem like a knitter at all.”

You laughed. “Yeah no, he was definitely messing with you.”

“Knew it,” Ethan grumbled before shrugging. “Seamus thinks I’m just being dramatic.”

“I’m inclined to agree,” you retorted.

He shot you a look but you didn’t seem too bothered by his glare.

“He thinks I just need to get laid,” Ethan murmured, his eyes settling back on the lump on the coffee table that was supposed to resemble a plane.

“So why don’t you?”

Ethan blinked as he turned back to you. “Why don’t I, what?”

“Why don’t you just go get laid?” You asked, turning your body slightly so you were properly facing him. “Are you a virgin?”

Ethan startled. “What? No. No, I’m not a virgin.”

“Then I can’t imagine it would be too difficult for you to find someone.”

“Thanks?” Ethan frowned a little before shrugging his shoulders. “I don’t know, s’just a little much right now. I don’t really wanna go and sleep with anyone. And I’m a little too busy to properly start something with someone, you know? It wouldn’t be fair on them if I was…flaky.”

“What if we slept together?”

Ethan let out a choked noise of surprise.

You gave him an odd look. “What?”

“Us? Sleep together? Like sex?” Ethan blurted out, his voice a little more high pitched than usual.

“Well, I don’t mean just having a sleepover,” you answered with a shrug.

His brows furrowed together. “Would it not be…weird?”

“No, why would it be?” You retorted, sounding so sure of yourself. “I’m busy, you’re busy. I guess you’re attractive and if you find me attractive too, I don’t see what the issue is. It’s convenient for us both.”

His eyes narrowed. “You guess I’m attractive?”

“This is not the time for your ego,” you huffed, though he could see your lips twitching upwards.

“No no, this is the perfect time for my ego,” Ethan started, his back straightening as he sat up in his seat.

“Are you in or not?”

His eyes dropped down to your lips for a few moments before returning to your eyes. “Y-Yeah, I’m in.”

…

DECEMBER

As it would turn out, it was far from weird. It was actually pretty fucking great.

The awkward tension Ethan expected to rise from the first time you two slept together didn’t actually happen. The next day, everything was back to normal and, if it weren’t for the hickeys dotted over his torso, he would have assumed he dreamt the whole thing up.

It was surprisingly refreshing. The buddying friendship between you and Ethan continued to grow as the days passed, just like he wanted, there was just also the added bonus that sometimes the two of you fucked to let off some steam.

And as much as it pained him to say, Seamus was right. He just needed to get laid. He just needed to go back to something he knew he would always be good at, that didn’t take up too much space in his brain and felt as natural as breathing to him.

He just needed to feel someone else’s body pressed up against him, whispered moans of his name doing more to help shut up that voice in the back of his head far better than the crowds of fans screaming and chanting his name.

He was really missing out for all these with the whole ‘friends with benefits’ thing.

“Ethan.”

“Hm?”

“We can’t.”

“I think we can,” he murmured against your neck, his smile pressed against your skin as he placed a line of chaste kisses just below your jaw.

Your eyes fluttered close as his large hand splayed against your stomach, fingers brushing over your heated skin as he settled on the bed behind you. “You’re gonna miss your bus,” you managed to mutter out, a little breathless as you felt him rolling his hips against your ass.

“They won’t leave without me,” he assured you as he tugged you further back into him. Your panties had been kicked off somewhere under the sheets, not that either of you cared enough to give it a second thought. It just made it easier for Ethan to slip his hand between your legs, to listen to the choked noise of surprise you let out when his finger pressed on your clit.

“That’s not how it works,” you murmured, letting out a whine when he stilled his hand between your legs, focusing on marking the spot at the base of your neck that made your arch against him. “You’re gonna miss the bus and the team will be annoyed and you’re gonna—”

“Shhhh,” Ethan mumbled against your skin. “Too much talking.”

“Ethan.”

He let out a groan, his head dropping to your shoulder where he pressed a soft kiss there before lifting his head to shoot you a look.

“Don’t look at me like that,” you murmured with a snort. “It’s a seven day roadie. You’ll survive.”

“Maybe I’m really stressed about it,” he shot back. “Maybe a quickie before I leave would help me destress.”

You shook your head in amusement. “You’d be a lot less stressed if you weren’t thirty minutes late already.”

Ethan’s head snapped over to the clock on your bedside table. “Shit.”

“Told you so!” You called out as he scrambled his way towards the bathroom for the quickest shower of his life.

“Shut up!”

“That’s new.”

“What’s new?” Ethan questioned, leaning down to lace up his skates with the efficiency of a man who had spent the better part of his life in ice skates. He didn’t notice the shit-eating grin on Luke’s face until he sat back up and found the boy staring at him. “What?”

“Well, either the rats from your old apartment have found your new place and decided to take revenge or there’s a different reason for the marks on your back,” Luke retorted with a knowing glint in his eyes.

“Marks are an understatement,” Seamus snorted, sitting on the stall on the other side of Ethan. He didn’t know what he did to deserve being stuck between the two of them. “Your back is mauled, dude. Who did you sleep with, a werewolf?”

“No,” Ethan scoffed, his cheeks burning red. “Don’t be jealous you can’t get the same reaction out of a girl.”

“So there’s a girl?” Luke chimed in, like the little nosey shit he was.

“Maybe,” Ethan answered vaguely with a shrug of his shoulders. “It’s just a casual thing. Nothing serious.”

“Glad you finally took my advice,” Seamus grinned.

Ethan rolled his eyes.

“What’s her name?” Luke asked.

To be fair, you and Ethan never discussed the logistics of your situation beyond the actual sex part. He enjoyed the little bubble the two of you shared in your apartment. It was like the two of you forgot there were other people, that the signs would be there for people to pick up on. And he wasn’t exactly sure if it was something you would want people to know, even Luke.

He tried to bargain with himself that it wasn’t serious so there was no need for Luke or the other boys to know. You two were just scratching an itch for each other, that’s it. You were still friends at the end of the day, he didn’t want to ruin that because other people thought there was something more serious.

Ethan shrugged. “Uh, you don’t know her.”

Luke cocked an eyebrow. “So surely it doesn’t matter if we know her name or not.”

“It’s not like she’s my girlfriend or anything,” Ethan retorted, squirming a little under Luke’s gaze. “Shouldn’t you be getting ready? Coach wants us out in five minutes.”

“Subtlety is not your forte, Edwards,” Luke snorted in response.

The roadie ends up being a complete shit show.

Three games and they lost every single one of them. Three games and the loss just got worse with each game, with the final game being an embarrassing 5-1 loss. And all the boys were upset and annoyed about the results, but Ethan felt like he was going to lose his mind.

His suit felt uncomfortable and itchy against his body, like some foreign layer he desperately wanted to shed. His skin felt taut and stretched across his bones, the urge to claw at his skin so overwhelming that he forced himself to focus on picking the skin around his nails instead because it was less likely to get him odd looks from the other boys.

He had ignored Luke and Seamus’ attempts at pep-talks in the locker room, both boys seeming determined to try and reassure him the loss was not his fault—like it would stop the fumbled plays playing on a loop in his head. He watched Nico climb onto the bus, eyeing the empty seat next to him but he wasn’t in the mood to be babysat by his captain. He put his bag on the chair next to him and put his headphones on, pretending he couldn’t feel everyone’s eyes on him.

He wasn’t sure what time it was when they finally arrived back in New Jersey, but he didn’t care to know. He didn’t give anyone a chance to pull him back for a chat. He grabbed his bags and bolted to his car, wanting nothing more than to get out of his suit and just mope in his bed until practice in a few days.

Ethan wasn’t expecting for you to still be awake.

He jumped when he spotted you on the couch, the TV still on but on mute as it played some random sitcom he couldn’t quite remember the name of. His eyes wandered over your figure, huddled up in the corner of the couch with a blanket covering your legs and a Devils branded hoodie he didn’t quite know whether it was one of your own or one of his. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to know.

“You’re back earlier than I expected,” you spoke up, breaking the weird, tense silence that seemed to be suffocating the apartment since he walked in.

“We left just after the game,” he replied, his voice a little raspy considering it was the first time he had spoken since the end of the game. “Boys wanted to get home.”

You nodded. “M’glad you’re back. The place is pretty quiet without you.”

It was lighthearted. It was an opening for him to plaster on a smile and pretend he was okay. It was a chance for him to escape the same awkward conversations he avoided from his teammates.

But he was tired—the bone deep kind—and he didn’t have it in himself to keep pretending. Not in front of you.

“I’m not sure I’m feeling very talkative right now,” he admitted, swallowing back the acidic taste in his mouth, the one that had been lingering since he stepped on the bus with all his disappointed teammates.

“We don’t have to talk about it,” you reassured him as you patted the spot on the couch beside you. “We can just sit in absolute silence if you want.”

“I’m not sure I want that either,” he confessed as his body slumped against the couch, melting into the fabric as he tried to ignore the constant buzzing voices in his head. “Just wanna forget the last week, to be honest.”

“That’s fair,” you hummed in agreement. “The refs were biassed dicks anyways. It wasn’t fair.”

He turned his head to look at you, his surprise clearly expressed on his face. “You watched?”

“I did,” you gave him a soft smile. “It wasn’t a pretty sight. I’m surprised the neighbours didn’t make a noise complaint against me when they put Luke in the box.”

And despite himself, he couldn’t help but snort. “They had it out for him and Jack.”

Your eyes narrowed. “Dicks.”

His lips twitched upwards. “Dicks indeed.”

Ethan let his head fall back against the back of the couch, let the exhaustion settle in as his eyes fluttered shut and, for the first time in the last week, let himself have some semblance of relaxation even if his brain was still on overdrive.

“I know you don’t want to talk about it,” you started and his body instantly tensed up at your words. And maybe you would feel his body lock up, considering his thigh was pressed against yours and the couch wasn’t all that big either. “But I am here if you want to talk. Have someone who’s not on the team to listen to you.”

He swallowed the lump in the back of his throat. “Just feel like I let them down.”

“You didn’t,” your voice soft but sincere. “And I bet the boys would agree.”

“I just…” he let out a sigh, keeping his eyes closed because it somehow made the next few sentences easier to say out loud. “I know no one likes losing. I would be a pretty bad professional athlete if I liked losing. But, I don’t know, it just…sucks more now.”

“Because the stakes are higher?”

“Because there’s more people seeing my mistakes,” he murmured, his words short and sharp. “This is all unreal. Being able to live out my dream and play in the NHL. But every time I make a mistake, I just feel like I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop. Like I’m waiting for someone to tell me it’s all a joke or I have been moved down or I get dropped and that’s the end of my career.”

There was a short pause.

“I’m scared it’s all gonna be for nothing.”

He wasn’t sure what response he expected. Truthfully, he had no intentions of ever telling you any of this. Or anyone for that matter. He had no intentions of ever saying the words out loud, letting them fester and swirl around in the back of his mind when he was left with his thoughts alone for too long.

And yet, he had just blurted them out to you.

Maybe he was more tired than he realised.

“Why did you keep playing hockey?”

Ethan frowned a little, his eyes blinking back open as he turned to look at you again. “What?”

“Why did you keep playing hockey?” You asked again, something swirling in your eyes but he couldn’t quite work out what. “It’s one thing to be a fan. You’re Canadian so I guess you kinda have to be. And I assume your parents put you into lessons. But why did you keep up with it? Why did you keep playing?”

“Because I love the sport,” he answered without any hesitation.

“Exactly, you love the sport,” you repeated with a soft smile on your lips. “It’s why you stayed. It’s why you play the next game even if you lost the last one. It’s why it’s your dream, why you kept working towards the NHL. And even after the shit show of the roadie, it’s why you will go out and play the next game.”

Ethan stayed silent but he didn’t move his eyes away from yours.

“It’s normal to have doubts. It’s normal to second guess yourself and assume the worst and let yourself spiral,” you continued. “It’s your rookie year. It isn’t easy for anyone. It wasn’t easy for Luke, for Seamus, for any of the boys. But you love the sport and the sport loved you back. Even on the bad days.”

“That was poetic,” he murmured, his voice a little raspy and thick with emotion.

“I was great at English in school,” you retorted with a grin. “You’re allowed to feel scared. And you’re allowed to be upset after you lose. But you’re a part of the team, nobody is putting the loss on your shoulders and you shouldn’t either. It’s your weight to bear together.”

Ethan’s eyes narrowed. “Did Nico message you?”

You snorted, and something about the sound made his chest tighten. In a good way, though.

“No, but considering how fast you got here, I would be wary that he will probably show up tomorrow morning to take you for a coffee check up,” you murmured. “Or he will corner you in the locker room.”

Ethan nodded. “Thank you. For listening and stuff.”

You flashed him a smile as you nudged his shoulder with your own. “That’s what friends are for.”

It was almost ironic that Ethan had spent the last few months working towards the title of your friend, only to feel almost disappointed when you said it.

Nico had been the one to organise the New Years Party.

All the boys from the team were there. There were other Devils employees from the marketing, media and training teams. There were friends and friends-of-friends. There were people he had never met before.

But it was a party and the buzz of the new year was humming through them all, and somewhere amongst it all, someone had suggested a game of truth or dare.

Ethan thinks it was Curtis, who was just drunk and nosy and a bit bored.

“Right, Baby Hughes, you gotta pick!”

Luke let out a groan, slumping into the person next to him—a chuckling John Marino who seemed amused by the glint in Curtis’ eyes—before nodding. “I feel targeted.”

Curtis grinned. “Never.”

“You’ve asked me every single time,” Luke grumbled under his breath, cheeks tinted pink and warm. “Surely this is against the rules. Right, Cap?”

Nico raised his hands in surrender. “Do not drag me into this!”

Luke’s eyes narrowed. “So much for looking out for your boys.”

“Pick someone else before he starts getting whiny,” Jack called out, grinning widely as he dodged Luke’s elbow to his side. “I don’t wanna hear him bitching on the way back home.”

“Fine, fine,” Curtis snorted, eyes scanning over the busy room before his eyes paused on Ethan. “Alright, Edwards, rookie’s turn. Truth or dare.”

Ethan straightened a little, something determined in his eyes. “Truth,” he answered with a grin. “I’ve been warned of your dares.”

“Smart,” Jesper coughed under his breath.

“Truth, he says,” Curtis mused as he sat back in his seat, contemplative and cunning before he spoke again.

“Play nice,” Nico teased.

“Cap’s orders,” Curtis hummed before he spoke. “Alright then, rookie, fess up. Which teammate is your least favourite? Name and shame.”

Ethan blinked. “This feels like a trap.”

“Oh, it certainly is,” Ondrej snorted.

“Don’t take him seriously,” Luke spoke up, leaning his head back to catch Ethan’s gaze. “He did the same to me and Simon. And Seamus last year. It’s his thing.”

Ethan raised his brows. “Is there a right answer?”

“Hey, no cheating!” Curtis called out.

“Maybe my answer is you,” Ethan called back teasingly.

“Oh, pretty boy has some fire,” the older man laughed, happily and drunkenly but it seemed enough to satisfy him before Nico was rounding everyone around for the midnight countdown.

The funny thing was that Ethan always knew that hockey was a team sport and every team he had ever played on—from the peewee team he played on as a kid to the boys he played with in UMich—every single one of them felt like a family, a place where he belonged and a team he loved both on and off ice.

The Devils had been another one of those teams—his newest family. It had been terrifying, a lingering thought in the back of his head since he had been drafted. Every team he played for before were teams he would move on from, stepping stones in his dreams. But the NHL was at the top and he didn’t want to fuck that up. He didn’t want to feel left out from his new family.

The Devils family had welcomed him with open arms.

He truly couldn’t complain. He felt a connection with these boys on and off the ice, he felt like the newest member in this patchwork family that was really cared for. Even now, as the seconds ticked down to midnight, there was warmth and camaraderie in the air as they welcomed the new year.

And yet, it was the most devastating loneliness he had ever felt in his life.

Because the clock struck twelve and the cheers echoed through the house and yet, his eyes were searching in the crowd of people. Searching for the one person he wanted by his side. Searching for the first person he has ever had the urge to kiss into the new year.

Because Ethan Edwards spent breaking in the new year wishing he was beside you.

…

JANUARY

New Years opened his eyes in ways that he hadn’t really considered before.

Unfortunately, eye opening nights are a bit difficult to focus on when you’re a professional athlete in the NHL hitting January in your rookie year. Because they were only half way through the regular season in one of the most physically and mentally intense years of his life, and he was a bit too fucking tired to have emotional epiphanies.

Which was fine if it weren’t for the fact he was currently in the middle of drills and his brain was definitely not focused on hockey.

“Edwards!”

Ethan blinked, his body moving before his brain could properly catch up. He had never been more grateful for the military-routine of drills he had been doing for as long as he had been skating.

His muscles were screaming by the time the boys were starting to head back into the locker room, laughing and shoving each other and discussing strategies for the game against the Sabres the following day. But he lingered behind, stick twisting in his hand as he tapped a few pucks closer to the net.

He had tried not to stare at the person lingering on the ice behind him, watching him, observing him.

He managed five shots before the person spoke up.

“You should lower your right hand a little,” Jack called out, lingering at the blue line. “It will help with the shot.”

His next shot hit the back corner perfectly.

Ethan straightened his back, nodding a little before glancing over his shoulder. “Thanks.”

“Anytime,” Jack responded, taking it as his cue to skate closer towards him. “You good? You should be getting some rest before the game tomorrow.”

“Yeah, just…wanted some extra practice on my shots,” Ethan said, shrugging his shoulders. “It needs some work.”

Jack nodded. “You’re having a good year.”

“Could be better,” Ethan retorted before he could stop himself. It was meant to be lighthearted, playful even. Instead, it came out a little self-deprecating and he winced at himself.

“It gets better,” Jack assured him, his expression a little softer. “The rookie year is always the worst, the media attention and expectations and everything. But it gets better when you find yourself, find your footing.”

“I know,” he murmured because he wasn’t sure what else to say. Nobody really talked about Jack’s rookie year. Not in much detail, not beyond a few comments here and there he had heard over the years in the lakehouse.

He was more than grateful that his own rookie year wasn’t anything like Jack’s.

“Enjoy it,” Jack continued, a kind expression on his face. It wasn’t hard to work out why Jack was given the ‘A’ on his jersey. “I know it’s easier said than done, but don’t let the critics get to you too much. They just wanna put pressure on you, make you squirm.”

And oh.

Because now Ethan was standing there, staring back at Jack like a hopeless idiot, realising he and the rest of the boys probably assumed his mood had been related to hockey. To the articles written about him. To the most likely and very reasonable explanation.

Not the fact Ethan was pretty sure he liked his friends-with-benefits roommate in a not very friends-with-benefits way.

His cheeks burned at the realisation.

“Uh, yeah,” he nodded helplessly, hoping his smile didn’t look as strained as it felt. “No, you’re right. I…I’ll try to really enjoy it. Not get in my own head too much.”

“Good,” Jack smiled back at him, all sweet and genuine and making him feel like a bit of a dick. “I’m here if you ever need a chat, you know? And I’m better at giving advice than Luke.”

Ethan snorted. “I don’t doubt that for a second.”

The issue was that despite his eye-opening realisation, Ethan Edwards quickly realised he was a bit of a coward when it came to expressing his feelings.

Or, for that matter, confronting them.

It was odd for Ethan, if he was being completely honest with himself. Because he was usually good with these kinds of things. He knew when it was a ‘no strings attached’ situation, when to remove himself from any feelings that would compliment the matter. And he knew when it was serious, when the feelings were reciprocated, when there was something more than physical between him and the other person.

But that awareness was thrown out the window when it came to you.

It was like he had a little voice in his head, desperately trying to yell out how he felt about you until Ethan reached his breaking point and did something he couldn’t take back.

So, he did what any reasonable person did and locked that little voice away, pushed it to the back of his mind where it couldn’t bother him. And then he continued living his life like he couldn’t hear the rattling box in the background of every waking moment.

It was easy with hockey. Despite his little blip at the start of the month, he managed to prevent the annoying voice affecting his game on the ice. He stayed focused and concentrated and attentive. He managed to complete his drills and find the passes and shoot some goals so none of his teammates would catch on to his lacking grasp on his feelings.

But at home? With you? He clearly wasn’t coping as well as he thought he was.

“Are you okay?”

Ethan paused, body frozen as his brain wracked through a million different thoughts before he turned to look where you were sitting on the couch.

“Uh yeah,” he managed to blurt out, a slightly strained laugh following. “Why?”

“You’ve just seemed off the last few weeks,” you admitted with a shrug of your shoulders. “Like, tense and stuff.”

“S’just hockey stuff,” Ethan murmured with a stiff smile, the lie tasting bitter and acidic on his tongue. “The boys have just been talking about how playoffs are sneaking up on us and I just…guess I’ve been a little in my own head about it.”

You nodded in understanding. “You need days to chill out, you know? Take your mind off hockey.”

Ethan raised his brows. “You got any suggestions, sweetheart?”

“Actually,” you retorted with a knowing smile. “I do. I know exactly what you need to get out of your head.”

“You know, when you crawled onto my lap, I was expecting a very different outcome,” Ethan murmured, struggling not to move his lips too much as he focused on the concentrating expression on your face.

“Need to get your head out of the gutter, Edwards,” you teased, biting back your smile as you continued to sweep the brush across his face, careful to avoid his eyebrows while you were at it. “Facemasks are soothing and relaxing. Plus, your skin probably needs it after all the travelling you do.”

“Excuse you,” his nose scrunched. “I have a skincare routine.”

You chuckled. “Yeah, Luke told me that you ripped into Seamus after he used your fancy moisturiser.”

“It’s expensive,” he murmured in defence before the rest of your words caught up on him. “You talk about me to Luke?”

“Mostly to bitch,” you said with a lighthearted, teasing smile.

Yet, something in his chest tightened at the idea regardless.

“As long as you’re talking about me,” he shot back, something victorious washing over him at the way you laughed.

You leaned back a little, still sat on his lap with his hands on your waist to keep you balanced. You snorted at the mask covering his face before grinning. “Now, we have to keep these on for twenty minutes. And try not to move your face too much.”

Ethan ignored your words, pouting in response. “So if I asked you to make out—”

“I would tell you to fat chance,” you finished with a grin. “But I’ll admit the pink headband is really working for you.”

Ethan wiggled his eyebrows, once against ignoring the pointed look you shot him. “Enough for a kiss?”

“Enough for an episode of Pretty Little Liars,” you shot back at him, your smile widening at the sound of his groan but it still didn’t stop him from tugging you close before you could sit on the other side of the couch. “Or at least finish the one we started last night before—”

“I rocked your world?”

“Started drooling on my shoulder,” you corrected.

“That was after I made you come twice,” Ethan piped up, lightly pinching your side until you squirmed further onto his lap. “They cancel each other out.”

“Whatever you say, princess,” you snorted, eyes gleaming as you pressed play on the remote before he could come up with a witty comeback.

And, somewhere in the back of his mind, there was a distant voice screaming at him to say something. Telling him this was the perfect opportunity to say something to you. To just admit how he was feeling and end the pathetic pining he had been experiencing for the last few weeks.

But the mere idea of losing this—losing you—kept his mouth shut as he finally turned his attention to the tv and pretended like his stomach didn’t twist at his own cowardice.

…

FEBRUARY

Before he knew it, they were hitting February and all the buzz in the hockey world was around All Stars.

Ethan hadn’t been too concerned about it or the discussions leading up to the reveal on which team members would be heading out for the event. His mind had been preoccupied on the season, on playoffs approaching, on you. In all honesty, All Stars hadn’t even crossed his mind until the team was being rounded up into the locker room for the announcement.

It was not too much of a surprise that Luke had been selected for the Devils (most people expected it to be one of the Hughes brothers).

However, it was a shock to hear his own name follow.

“Looks like the fans want to see more of the pretty boy,” Curtis called out, joking and teasing and, yet, it still made his cheeks burn as the boys all slapped him on the back.

“Baby’s first All Stars,” Timo cooed jokingly, reaching out to pinch his cheek but Ethan was quick to slap his hand away.

“It’s Luke’s first too,” he defended weakly, a smile on his lips as he spoke.

“At least he is losing one of his virginities,” Seamus coughed under his breath, letting out a high-pitched yelp when the younger Hughes reached to smack him across the back of his head.

“I hope you get a horrible sunburn in Mexico,” Luke retorted with a deadpan expression.

Seamus snorted. “Don’t get bitchy because your ticket is non-refundable.”

Luke reached out to slap him again but he had already run off towards the showers, laughing and shoving some of the other boys into Luke’s path to help with his escape.

Ethan shook his head in amusement.

“Enjoy it,” another voice spoke up and he turned to find Nico standing beside his stall, a kind and genuine smile on his face as he patted his shoulder. “It’s fun. Promise.”

“More fun than chilling on a beach somewhere?” Ethan retorted with a knowing smile.

“It’s up there,” Nico grinned.

“But if Michael Buble offers you anything, say no,” Jack spoke up from the other side of the locker room. “Trust me.”

“How does it feel to be with all the big boys?”

“You saying I’m not a big boy?”

“You know exactly what I meant, perv.”

It was true. Ethan knew exactly what you meant. But he could almost imagine the way you rolled your eyes when you spoke, your nose scrunched up and your eyebrows furrowed and it sent a pang of something aching through him.

It was almost too pathetic to comprehend.

All Stars was insane. Truly, absolutely, positively insane. It was one thing to watch it from the comfort of his own couch. It was a whole other thing to be a part of it. And he knew he shouldn’t be starstruck, not really. He had spent the better part of the last few months playing against some of these guys.

But being in a not-as-competitive setting with the likes of Sidney Crosby and Nathan MacKinnon was a surreal experience he hadn’t fully wrapped his head around since he arrived.

And yet, here he was, all smiley and giddy and excited over the fact you had called him. The fact that you missed him enough, that you were thinking about him enough to call him whilst he was away.

“I stand by my question,” Ethan replied, shuffling further back into the plush pillows of his hotel bed as he held his phone to his ear. “Do you not think I’m a big boy?”

“I’m not going to talk up your dick size for the sake of your ego, Edwards.”

Ethan snorted despite himself. “Worth a shot. Could have made it really hot.”

“I refuse to have phone sex with you when Luke is probably in the room.”

“He’s not here,” Ethan said quickly, pausing for a moment before he continued. “Well, he’s gone out to grab us some snacks from the store around the corner but—”

“Exactly.” His stomach dipped a little as your laugh echoed through the phone. “Now, tell me everything.”

For a moment he wondered if it would be worth trying to facetime you to see your face or if that was pushing it too far.

“What do you want to know?” He retorted, his eyes closing shut as he tried to imagine the expression on your face as you thought.

“I don’t know! The important stuff! Like if Sidney Crosby is as hot in real life?”

Ethan blinked. “That’s your big question? If he’s as hot as he is on screen?”

Your reply came with no hesitation. “Yes.”

“Wow, so we can’t talk about my dick, which has been inside of you by the way, but we can talk about whether or not Sidney Crosby is hot.” There was a pause before he sighed. “Yeah, he is. Maybe even hotter.”

“I fucking knew it.”

“So you don’t even miss me? Not even a little bit?” Ethan questioned, trying to sound playful and lighthearted, hoping the small slivers of insecurity weren’t being translated through the phone.

“Don’t start pouting on me, Edwards. Of course I miss you.” Your voice was softer, more sincere. Or at least he was deluding himself into thinking as much. “Found a show for us to watch when you’re back. It looked good but I didn’t want to start it alone.”

It was embarrassing how big his smile was. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you hummed before gasping. “Oh god, I almost forgot to tell you. You won’t believe what happened at work the other night.”

Ethan huffed. “Don’t tell me it was—”

“Yup! And you’ll never guess what she did—”

It hit Ethan in the chest when he was lying on the foreign bed in a non-descriptive hotel room, phone pressed against his ear as you rambled away. It hit him just how much he enjoyed this, how much he enjoyed you. That it was beyond the physical attraction, that it was much deeper than a silly little crush.

It hit him how much he wanted this forever.

But he knew better to do it on the phone. He knew it had to be said face-to-face. He knew he needed you in front of him when he uttered the words. He knew he needed to be looking in your eyes when he blurted his feelings out.

So, he promised himself.

He promised himself he would do it when he headed back to New Jersey. He promised himself he would do it when he saw you. He promised himself he was just going to deal with it head on and not run away like he had been doing for the last month or two.

He promised he was not going to be a coward anymore.

It was embarrassing how quickly he threw his own promise out of the window.

Ethan was fucking exhausted by the time their plane laned back in New Jersey. It was barely even eight in the evening and he was ready to slump face first onto his bed and not get up for a few days—even if he knew they had practice the following afternoon.

But it was the principle of it all.

It was the mere exhaustion of it all.

And you took one look at him before you opened your arms, inviting him to join you on the couch. Ethan couldn’t even bring himself to feel too bad about the groan you let out as he slumped himself on top of you.

“Make sure they had good music at my funeral,” he grumbled, his face nuzzled into the crook of your neck and his lips brushing against your skin as he spoke.

You hummed, your hands moving on instinct to run your fingers through his hair. “How do you feel about Barbie Girl?”

“Love it,” he murmured, a soft groan leaving his lips as your nails scratched along his scalp. “Missed you.”

“I missed you too, Edwards,” you whispered, soft and almost breathless. He wondered for a moment if he was leaning too heavily on your chest and winding you. “I never knew you talked in your sleep.”

Ethan froze.

“Luke sent me some interesting videos,” you continued and he could almost hear the smile in your voice. “You should really watch who you have sleepovers with.”

Ethan clenched his eyes shut, trying to nuzzle himself further into your neck. “M’gonna kill him.”

“It was just one video,” you assured him, lightly tugging his hair until he lifted his head to look at you. “Cute that you were so jealous over me liking Sidney that you started to sleep talking about it.”

His cheeks heated up. “I wasn’t jealous.”

You beamed back at him. “Uh huh, sure.”

Ethan narrowed his eyes at you. “This is emotional blackmail.”

“Aw, don’t let me stop you from doing it again,” you teased, unable to hide your amusement as his cheeks burned redder. “Would it make you feel better if I said I was jealous you got to hang around him all week?”

Ethan paused before he spoke. “Yes.”

You nodded. “Then, I was deeply jealous and envious that you got to hang around Sidney Crosby, the hottest guy in the league—”

“Oh my god,” Ethan groaned as he braced his hands on either side of you, prepared to push himself off you and the couch and sulk in his room. But before he could get far, you were winding your arms and legs around him and pulling him back down. “Nuh uh, let me go. You can go cuddle with Sidney since you think he’s so hot.”

“You’re such a drama queen,” you mused, choosing to be nice and not comment on the way he completely nuzzled himself back into your arms, eyes falling shut and relaxation taking over his body for the first time in a week.

“You’re a bully,” he retorted, words muffled from the way his cheek was pressed against your shoulder.

“You like it,” you retorted, keeping the banter going but it made Ethan’s head spin.

Because he did. He did like it. He liked you. He liked coming back home to you and he liked lying on the couch with you. He liked kissing you and he liked the noises you made for him when he touched you.

He liked you more than he cared to admit.

He liked you too much to lose you.

He liked what the two of you had. He liked it too much to risk losing it all over unreciprocated feelings. Feelings could change—his feelings could change. There was no need to ruin a good thing.

He had hockey to focus on. He had the team to focus on. He had playoffs to focus on.

Now was not the time to change everything, superstitions or not.

…

MARCH

March Madness was no joke.

It was pure fucking chaos and no previous league or championship he had ever played for could rival just how hectic the whole thing was. The Devils were having a good season. A great fucking season if they were being honest. And they were so, so, so fucking close to clinching that playoff spot.

But fuck if the other teams weren’t making it real fucking difficult for them.

Ethan knew that things were going to get rougher, tougher, harder when the playoff desperation started to settle in, when the end of the regular season was on the horizon and teams were starting to get dirty to extend their season.

He just underestimated how desperate they were willing to get.

It was easy to see why Nico Hishcier was so beloved by the team, by the fans, by the boys. To see why he was chosen as captain because he was nothing but supportive and determined and encouraging. He wasn’t letting them get too comfortable, he was keeping the boys working towards playing their best.

But he was also the damn proudest of them all.

It almost made the hits against the boards worth it.

Almost being the operative word seeing as he felt like his whole body was bruised as they came off a game against the Rangers.

“Fuck,” Ethan hissed as he all but waddled into the locker room, helmet in hand and skateguards on. “I think I’m bruised in places I didn’t know you could be bruised.”

Seamus snorted. “Fucking tell me about it.”

“The hit during the second period looked rough,” Luke spoke up from the stall beside him. “You sure you’re good?”

“Medical checked me over during the intermission,” Ethan assured him with a faint smile. “Just gonna be sore for the next few days.”

Luke’s eyes gleamed. “No strenuous activities then?”

Ethan rolled his eyes.

“Oh please,” Seamus mused, giving Luke a nudge with his elbow. “He’s a pillow princess.”

“Fuck off both of you,” Ethan snorted, already starting to peel his jersey off.

It wasn’t until he was almost dressed where he finally grabbed his phone out of his bag, turning it back on to see a flurry of notifications to take over his screen. His brows furrowed together in surprise as he skimmed over them.

“Is that a certain roommate?” Luke asked, peeking over his shoulder like the nosy shit he was but Ethan had already chucked his phone back in his bag.

“Nah, it’s just Patricia,” Ethan shrugged.

Luke blinked. “Who the fuck is Patricia?”

Ethan shot him an odd look. “Patricia, the woman from the estate agency you recommended to me.”

Luke gave him a pensive look. “Why is she blowing up your phone?”

Ethan shrugged again. “Your guess is as good as mine.”

As it would turn out, Patricia was contacting him because the apartment he originally signed on for at the start of the year seemed to have sorted the rat infestation problem.

She was cheery in her voicemail she left for him, like it was the best possible news Ethan could have ever received. And maybe it would have been a few months ago, back in September. Even a good few weeks into October, Ethan would have been over the fucking moon to hear his old apartment was available again.

Yet, as he listened to the voicemail now, he couldn’t help but let a sense of dread wash over him.

It was stupid in a way because he knew from the start his situation wasn’t permanent. He knew it was always a short-term solution to a short-term problem. He knew the arrangement between you both wouldn’t last forever—both as roommates and friends with benefits.

There was always a timer on it, but Ethan let himself get lost in the familiarity of it all that the upcoming ending hit him like an unexpected slap in the face.

If he was a sensible and good guy, he would have called Patricia back. He would have told her he was just as happy to hear the update on the previously rat infested apartment. He would have told her he was happy to move in as soon as he can, to have his own place in New Jersey to call his home and his home alone. He would have told her to send over all the paperwork as soon as she can.

But Ethan wasn’t sensible nor was he all that good because he never called her back.

Instead, he chose to pretend as though he hadn’t seen the calls or the voicemails or the messages. He told himself he was focusing on clinching a playoff spot. He told himself he was just prioritising the important stuff and, for as long as he had a roof over his head, the other apartment wasn’t a priority.

Ethan chose not to acknowledge the fact that ignoring and running away from any possible problem was becoming a bit of an odd habit for him over the last few months.

As it would turn out, people failed to warn Ethan that March Madness seemed to extend into a player’s personal life.

He couldn’t quite work out the exact moment everything changed but he noticed the switch two weeks into March. And he was fucking baffled. And almost embarrassed that it took him so long to catch on to your sudden cold behaviour.

If you were giving him the cold shoulder, Ethan would have assumed he had done something to piss you off. It wasn’t like you hadn’t done it before, the two of you had your fair share of petty roommate disagreements over the months where one of you would give the other silent treatment. But it never lasted more than an hour or so before you sat down and talked it out.

Ethan would have preferred if he was just given the silent treatment from you.

Instead, he got…whatever the hell you were doing now.

For a few days, Ethan considered that he was just being dramatic. That maybe it was something at work or in one of your classes. That eventually you’d come to him with whatever was bothering you and he would listen and this weird tension between the two of you would disappear.

He lost hope in that theory after a week.

You were talking to him, almost as normal, but there was a tinge to it. A shift. Almost like a step back. It felt like the early months as roommates, when your answers were shorter more often than not, when you treated each other as acquaintances with a mutual friend.

It felt fucking wrong.

And then there was the physical aspect.

It wasn’t like the two of you were on each other at every possible moment together. It wasn’t even about the sex. It was the way you pulled away from him like his touch burned you, like it was odd for him to casually nudge your hip with his own as he walked past you in the kitchen. It was the way you seemed to avoid sitting too close to him on the couch.

It was the way it felt like the two of you were reverting back to the awkward, polite strangers you were back in September.

He hated it but he didn’t know how to get it back when you seemed so adamant to keep him at arm’s length.

It was disorienting as fuck.

It was wrong.

It was everything he feared for.

It was almost-definitely-possibly worse than you rejecting him.

And Ethan felt like he was fucking spiralling with the realisation that he may have lost you and he wasn’t exactly sure how.

And just when Ethan craved normalcy in his life, Luke started acting weird too.

The youngest Hughes brother shut down any attempts to hang out outside of practice or training. He didn’t seem as talkative or chatty with Ethan the way he usually was, leaving most of their conversations to surround hockey or strategies or upcoming games.

Fuck, even Seamus was weirded out by Luke’s sudden change in behaviour.

It didn’t take long for the other boys in the team to notice the growing tension between the two boys. Jack kept shooting his brother weird looks. Nico seemed concerned. Even Curtis looked a bit awkward and unsure at what to say. Him, Luke and Seamus had been such a trio since Ethan joined the Devils at the start of the season.

Now it seemed like Luke tolerated him at best.

But Ethan knew Luke. He knew the way the boy would get when he was upset. He knew the way the boy tended to shut down a bit, knew that he needed the space to be moody and brood a little (the outcome of being the youngest child) before he was ready to forgive and forget and move on.

However, Luke Hughes seemed more than happy to carry out whatever grudge he was holding—even if it was affecting their game on the ice.

“What the fuck was that?”

Luke didn’t even bother turning to look at him, reaching to pull his practice jersey over his head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“For fuck’s sake, Luke,” Ethan growled, angry and frustrated and done with whatever bitchy mood he was still in. “I was open. You saw that I was open and you fucking ignored me. What if we were in a game? What if that cost us a goal?”

“It’s just a practice,” Luke shot back, deadpan and unamused. “Calm down.”

“Calm down? Calm down?!” Ethan laughed, bitter and irritated. “This isn’t a fucking joke, Luke. I don’t know what your problem with me is but it’s fucking ridiculous if you’re willing to sacrifice the team for it.”

Seamus took a step towards them. “Okay, maybe we just need—”

“No,” Ethan snapped, a buzz of adrenaline rushing through him. “No, if he has a problem with me then I want him to fucking say it instead of keeping it some secret like—some coward!”

“Oh, that’s rich coming from you,” Luke snapped back at him. “You know all about secrets, Edwards.”

His brows furrowed together. “Stop fucking talking in riddles, Hughes.”

“Oh Jesus,” Seamus grumbled under his breath.

“You know exactly what I’m talking about,” Luke hissed.

“No, I don’t!” Ethan gritted out. “I don’t know what the fuck you’re on about!”

“And I don’t know who the fuck you are anymore!” Luke bit back, enough hurt and anger in his voice that it left Ethan—and the rest of the locker room—silent. “I thought you were one of my closest friends. I thought you were a good guy. Clearly you’ve changed.”

Ethan frowned. “What?”

“Okay, everyone out!” Nico clapped his hands together, snapping Luke and Ethan out of their little moment as the captain began shepherding the rest of the team out.

“Aw, come on, it was just getting good!” Curtis whined but sighed as he followed the rest of the boys out of the locker room, all in various degrees of undress as they left Ethan and Luke alone.

Ethan watched them all go before he turned back to Luke, a look of hurt and pure confusion on his face.

“I helped you out,” Luke rasped, swallowing harshly. His voice was softer, a little raw too. Like the fight had left him and all that was left was disappointment. “You needed a place to stay and I convinced her to let you stay, vouched that you were a good guy, that you weren’t a fucking douche, and you had to go and fucking play her like that.”

Ethan blinked. “What the fuck are you on about?”

“Ethan,” Luke muttered, his name full of frustration. “I know about the two of you. I’ve known for a while, I’m not fucking stupid.”

His heart sped up a little, despite himself. “What does our…agreement have to do with you?”

Luke shot him a look of disbelief. “Because she’s my friend! Because you’ve strung her along for months and now you don’t even have the decency to tell her you’re leaving!”

Ethan blinked again. “I—what?”

“You’re moving back to your own place and you—why do you look so confused?”

“Because I am confused!” Ethan squeaked out.

Luke slowly blinked. “So…you’re not taking Patricia up on her offer and moving out?”

“No!” Ethan replied, still looking confused. “Why would you think I am?”

“Because she keeps calling and emailing you!” Luke shot back.

“And I haven’t answered a single one!” Ethan retorted.

“Huh,” Luke murmured, his mind whirling with a million different thoughts. “Well, her emails suggest otherwise.”

Ethan tilted his head. “What do you mean?”

“I—” Luke sighed, looking serious once again. “I need you to be honest with me.”

Ethan shifted in his spot. “What?”

“Are you serious about her?” Luke questioned.

Ethan frowned. “Who? Patricia?”

“I—no,” Luke sighed deeply. “Unless you’ve been sleeping with Patricia this whole time—”

“What? No, no!” Ethan spluttered out. “I have—wait, does she think I’m moving out?”

Luke looked a bit sheepish. “I think you need to go have that conversation with her.”

“Fuck,” Ethan breathed out, something quite like nausea twisting in his stomach. “And she….I’m not….I would never play her like that. It’s literally the opposite!”

Luke raised his brow. “The opposite?”

“I—fuck, I need to go,” Ethan muttered to himself under his breath, not even acknowledging the other boy as he began to yank his gear off.

“Woah, Ethan, you need to—”

“I need to fix this,” Ethan interrupted. “She can’t—I need to tell her.”

The last thing Luke—or any of the boys—saw was Ethan rushing out of the locker room, looking frazzled and flustered and panicked.

Ethan wished he could say he was calm and collected when he finally made it to your shared apartment but that would be a fucking lie.

He was a mess when he arrived. Despite driving back, he was still breathless and panting as he forgoed the elevator, choosing to take the stairs two-at-a-time until he reached your floor. His hair was a mess, his cheeks were flushed, his keys were the only thing in his possession as he raced towards the door. He wasn’t even sure where his phone was. Nor did he care.

His only goal was to get to you.

It was embarrassing how badly his hands were shaking as he tried to shove the key into the lock, taking more attempts than he cared to admit before he managed to open the door. He didn’t even care about your neighbours as he began calling out your name, praying to every god he could think of that you were home.

He could have collapsed from relief when you wandered out of your room, a mixed look of concern and confusion on your face when you spotted him standing in the living room.

“Are you okay?”

Ethan tried to find the words to answer you. He tried to wrack his brain for a response to your question, a coherent sentence to calm the clear uneasiness in your voice. And yet, all he could do was stare at you and think one single thought that was leaving his lips before he could even stop himself.

“I’m in love with you!”

You blinked in response.

“Like, so painfully in love with you that I didn’t think it was possible to feel this way about someone. But it is. And I do. And I can’t keep it to myself anymore because I think I am genuinely going insane,” Ethan continued.

Your lips parted a little in surprise, but still no words left your mouth.

“And I should probably stop talking and embarrassing myself further because you’re not saying anything and I’m usually a lot better at these kinds of things,” Ethan blurted out. “But you’ve been pulling away the last few weeks and I can’t take it anymore because it’s killing me. It’s killing me that I have to keep pretending I’m fine with everything when I’m not.”

His body was moving before he could stop himself. He was taking steps forward, closing the small distance between you two because Ethan couldn’t stop the pull you had on him—on his body, his mind, his whole fucking world.

“I’m in love with you. Like in a ‘I wanna come home to you every night and kiss you because we are dating’ kind of way, not a ‘we are roommates who made up this weird agreement’ way.” Ethan breathed out, his voice just above a whisper but you heard him loud and clear. “And I don’t expect you to say you feel the same way but I can’t keep it anymore and—”

He was cut off by you throwing yourself at him, arms winding around his neck and lips on his. He didn’t even care about the rest of his sentence, sinking into the kiss like a starved man eating for the first time. The relief of feeling your body pressed against his was almost as addicting as the adrenaline pumping through his veins when you let out a blissful sigh.

“M’not moving out,” he managed to mutter out between kisses as he wrapped his arms around your waist, keeping you tight against him. “Whatever you think—”

You pulled away a few inches, just enough to see his face. “Your laptop was open,” you murmured, something sheepish and guilty written across your face. “And the email came through from your estate agent about signing a new lease and I got in my own head about it. I thought you were going to leave and I wanted to protect myself from falling further and—”

“Falling further?” He repeated, a hopeful smile beginning to take over his face.

“Yeah,” you whispered, your smile mirroring his. “Turns out sleeping with your roommate is a real catalyst for falling in love with him.”

“Lucky me,” Ethan murmured before leaning back in to kiss you. “And I’m not leaving until you want me to leave.”

“We’ve really gone through this relationship thing in a weird order, huh?” You mused, laughing a little when Ethan kept leaning in to kiss you.

“Yeah but I think it’s worked out pretty well for us,” he murmured, his nose playfully nudging yours.

Ethan Edwards thought he was prepared for his rookie year.

He wasn’t. Not in the slightest. Nobody ever was, not really. He wasn’t fully prepared to fall in love either.

But with you in his arms and the Devils only points away from clinching a playoff spot, he thought his rookie year was going far better than anything he could have prepared for.

#ethan edwards #nhl #umich hockey #new jersey devils #ethan edwards x reader #ethan edwards x you #ethan edwards x y/n #ethan edwards fic #ethan edwards one shot #nhl x reader #nhl x you #nhl x y/n #nhl fic #nhl one shot #umich hockey x reader

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certifiedfreec · 6 months

Text

・❥・close - gojo satoru x f!reader (crossposted on ao3!) ・❥・

⊹ oh nooo you’re trapped in a hotel room with gojo… and there’s only one bed… ahhhhh

⊹ 18+, smut, frenemies to lovers, a ridiculous amount of banter

⊹ word count: 9.8k (i’m so normal about him lol…)

“Well fuck.”

Mouth agape, you stand tiredly beside your overly cheeky partner-in-exorcises, surveying the last available hotel suite that’s closest to your current assignment. Cramped could describe it if you’re feeling generous, as the sparse amenities make the single queen-sized bed in the center of the room look like a California King. The overblown stock photos of generic flowers hanging haphazardly above the bed are nearly mocking the otherwise drab room, and the dim lighting makes it all look more dingy than romantic given the scenario you’re in.

One bed left in this overbooked “hotel…” This has to be a fever dream.

“I call the left side!”

Said partner, Satoru Gojo, is oblivious to your inner turmoil as he languidly steps into the room with his singsong tone, surveying what little it has to offer with an otherwise calm expression. God, this guy gets on your nerves, but not for any pertinent or extravagant reason. Really, he just carries himself a little too cockily for your taste, like he’s used to people fawning over him for doing nothing. While you work well together for the most part, there’s something about his presence that just makes you-

“You can take the whole thing,” you grumble dismissively, carefully moving around him to set your backpack down on the warped work desk. You’d sooner sleep in the bathtub even if it was soaking wet, you think.

Your eyes nearly fall out of their sockets with how hard they roll when you hear him let out a feigned hum of disappointment. You can sense him studying your every move, even through that stupid blindfold thing he’s always got on.

“Bummer. You scared you’re gonna catch some cooties? I’m not contagious.” Gojo tuts playfully, shaking his black jacket off and tossing it over the back of the chair. “Guess that means more room for me!” He wastes wastes no time in flopping onto the middle of the stiff mattress with a grin, and part of you can’t help but admire- no, simply notice, you tell yourself- how his shockingly white hair and pale skin contrasts the dull, dated comforter. He’s got a white button down on, and you’re tempted to call him a bloodsucking vampire with how translucent he looks. Humming to himself, he reaches for the remote that practically shrinks in his large hands, clicking the clunky TV on and watching it take a few minutes to whir to life.

You’re unsure what to do with yourself, but you’re determined to put some space between the two of you with whatever happens. It’s unfortunate when you realize that you really might not be successful with that endeavor, given your dwarfed hotel room that could trigger any sane person’s claustrophobia. It didn’t help that this guy already took up most of the lackluster room with just his body, either. Your eyes flicker over to your work partner, who appears unnervingly okay with this turn of events. With a deep sigh, you pull out the creaky chair and slump defeatedly onto the desk. You’re careful to scoot to the edge of the chair so your back doesn’t make contact with his resting jacket, and he doesn’t miss your obvious attempt at distance. It’s known by many that he’s always been a huge fan of himself, and you’d be damned if you ever let him think you were part of that club, too.

“Hey, careful with the outerwear.” Gojo’s selectively ignoring your clear discomfort, opting to poke at you anyway because he just does that. “That’s a pricey jacket, y’know.” His face is serene as he’s clicking through the available channels and making his own little noises when each show is less intriguing than the next.

“Right… I’ll try my best,” you reply disinterestedly with a yawn. You rest your face on the cool wood- anything to mentally take yourself out of the painfully tiny space you and this massive human were expected to share for the evening. It’s been a long day of mundane yet necessary work, and apparently the real work is supposed to happen tomorrow. Being instructed last minute to change your stopping point for the day, you were left with no choice but to call around in a new area until you found an option. Gojo simply shrugged and started searching, not even slightly irritated at the change of plans. It irks you how little your colleague is bothered by, well, anything, because it has to be disingenuous at some point, right? Over time you’ve realized that with him, it truly is a brazen confidence- a kind that you decided was more dangerous than reassuring in reference to your line of work. It’s just unnatural- then again, nothing in your field is, so what’s your real issue with him? The question always leaves you befuddled at your core, and now it’s glaring in your face with the close quarters you’re sharing.

After some time spent listening to Gojo’s disjointed chuckles at whatever was playing, you take out your phone to text Shoko about your dreaded situation. This’ll be a long night, you think, grasping at straws to reason that it’s only temporary and that the smell of his spicy cologne will soon fade away from your senses. You have to say though, the scent fits him pretty well…unlike this miniature room you’re both posted up in.

Your eyes betray you when they briefly flit over again at the man lounging across the bed. It’s quite the spectacle, as the ends of his gangly legs and feet are dangling awkwardly over the edge, yet his expression is serene. The word "cute" passes through your mind and you immediately shush it by reflex, but it’s not as strong as the newfound proximity that prompts you to finally tease him in a dry tone: “Jesus, you’re taking up the whole thing and it’s still not enough.”

“Tell me about it.” He’s quick to react to your statement, and you swear you see his broad chest huff with amusement out of your peripheral. “It must be the price to pay when you’re a dreamy, charming, six foot three Jujutsu Sorcerer,” he adds in a lighthearted tone that seeks feigned sympathy. You’re not looking at him anymore, but you can guess that he’s batting the long white eyelashes that decorate his electric blue eyes. Meanwhile, you’re battling a smile.

Shoko’s not answering your SOS texts, so you actually decide to take the bait in the meantime. “You poor thing,” you coo halfheartedly, “It’s just never enough for you.” You shift, draping your arm over the back of the cheap desk chair that warps under your weight.

“You’re so right! I’m glad someone finally understands.” He points a finger at you, clearly pleased that you’re bantering along, and then he rests that same finger on his pointed chin. “Speaking of nothing ever being enough, I’m starving.” He suddenly sits up, making the bed creak with his movement. It’s apparent that his focus has shifted from the lifeless television show to you. “Who delivers around here?”

Gojo’s nonchalant behavior has the opposite effect on you- it’s disconcerting. At the same time, a very quiet part of you wants to warm up to the idea of finding it endearing. Being annoyed by him was all you knew- how could you ever change now?

The noise that escapes him is pure juvenile glee when you wordlessly open up a delivery app on your phone and sling the device over to him, which he catches with ease before scavenging through the limited number of nearby restaurants. If anything, you’ve never seen him so locked in. You hear him murmur his commentary to himself as he swipes through, picking out his order from his spot on the bed (which is basically the whole thing), and then he abruptly stands up with a matter-of-fact tone in his voice. Without watching him, you hear his steps move somewhere behind your seat.

“Hey, your girlfriend Shoko is texting you. I had no idea I was such a hot subject! Well, maybe I did.”

Oh shit. The heart that previously resided in your chest has plummeted to your stomach. You completely forgot you’d been virtually begging her for moral support when you first arrived at your shoebox of a room.

You muster all your inner strength to maintain a semblance of cool. “Is she on her way to save me?”

The grin on his face is nearly glowing as he reads your screen. “Hah, you wish. It says, and I quote, ’Sorry I’m just now seeing these! How are you and your “Honored One” doing? I promise he’s not as bad as you think he is, LOL.’”

You can feel all the blood in your body rush to your face as Gojo continues to read the message, who is doing everything to refrain from bursting into a fit of laughter. “’At least he’s not the worst looking, and you guys are gonna have to share a bed anyway. Wink emoji, wink emoji.’”

Your world comes screeching to an ugly halt. In this moment, you remind yourself to never text Shoko while you’re in the same room as him- ever again.

“Oh my god… You’re lying. Stop it!” You feel a wave of sickeningly nervous giggles threaten to rack through your body as you fly out of your rickety seat, marching over to the lanky sorcerer and swiping at him for your phone. He tsks, holding the device up from your reach with a mischievous tilt of his head, and you’re sure that you’ve never been this flushed with humiliation before. His muscled arm holds your phone up revealing the chat, and unfortunately, he wasn’t lying. And his voice? It’s smug, obnoxiously so as he taunts you. “This is so much more interesting than ordering food right now. I think I’m gonna answer her. What should I say?”

“Give it back, Satoru Gojo.” You glower up at him, silently knowing your efforts are futile due to your drastic height difference- and that goddamn Infinity ability of his that he loved to show off.

“Oooh, don’t say my full name. It really scares me,” Gojo gasps mockingly before making a show of squinting up at the screen and beginning to type with his other hand. “Let’s try this.” His fingers begin to dance across the screen. “’Shoko, I think I might be falling for Satoru Gojo, all six foot three of him. We’ve had such a romantic evening-‘"

“Jesus Christ, hand it over already!” You’re reaching your limit with tolerating his antics, body teeming in some liminal space between annoyance and mortification. You stretch up again to try and pluck the phone only to make contact with nothing. Fucking showoff. He’s still got his blindfold on, and you’re unable to see how his eyes are completely shimmering with mirth and self-satisfaction.

“Aaand, sent! I think she’ll like that. Anyway, go ahead and add your order to the cart. It’s on me- I remembered to bring the JuJutsu High credit card this time!” Gojo carries on casually like he hasn’t just done the equivalent of planting an explosive in your text messages, feeling incredibly proud of himself as he plops the phone back into your open palm. Glaring up at him and his resilient grin, you are entirely uninterested in eating any kind of food right now. He thinks it’s kind of cute how quickly your face turns ruby red.

You stare at your violated device, blinking in disbelief before looking back up at him. “You’re a real motherfucker, you know that?” You challenge, though your voice isn’t as hostile as it should be.

His large hands fly up defensively. “Whoa, who says I don’t go for daughters either?”

He’s maddening. How do his students stand him? Your free palm has never moved so fast to your face. Resolving into your clunky self-assigned seat, your butt collides firmly with cold wood. “You’re right. Who don’t you go for?” You huff.

Gojo chuckles with his whole chest as he moves to sprawl out over the miniature bed, returning to the original position he was in before he hijacked your text conversation. With blindfolded eyes focused back on the hazy television screen, his hands lock behind his head as he shrugs indifferently. “Never been a big fan of Geminis, to be honest.”

Unreal. He could talk to you in circles like this forever, and only because he knows he gets under your skin that way. You resign, eyeing your phone screen and scrolling through the restaurant he picked to order delivery from. He’s got quite the spread in the cart, complete with an elaborate dessert that could’ve wiped out your savings account.

“Clearly a fan of cheesecake though, holy shit.” The jab doesn’t come out as mean as you intend it to, and honestly, you aren’t sure how much longer you’ll be capable of treating him with this much animosity. You’re already tired, and if you were any more awake you’d realize that your work partner was slowly wearing your guard down, quip by cocky quip.

“Right again. Don’t you just love getting to know me through our intimate time together?”

Shoko is spamming you with an endless barrage of confused and shocked emojis, and you’re far too sleep-deprived to reply. Your entire body flushes at his words as they reverberate in your mind. Intimate is not the right word. No, it shouldn’t be, more like invasive. Right?

“Couldn’t be happier,” you reply curtly, mindlessly picking out whichever menu items are at the top before punching in the room number and credit card info, which was smoothly slid onto the table by Gojo without your prior notice. With your back to him, his gratification is on full display as he pretends to watch whatever crappy show is playing. Winning is his favorite thing in the world, and grating on your nerves is a close second- though really, the two coincide. Part of him wonders how much further he can blur that line.

——————————————————————————————————-

The comically large bag of food is immediately torn open by an eager Gojo the second it lands on the hotel room’s table, and he’s forking together a messy array of sides onto his plate before dragging over a lounge chair from the corner next to yours. He’s sitting far too close for your comfort, but you begrudgingly comply. It wasn’t like he was going to go away anytime soon, even though the night would be so much easier that way. As he shovels his dinner into his mouth, your mind aimlessly ventures as to how he keeps his form so trim with an appetite like that. He’s got to have a strict workout regimen somewhere, though “strict” is a word not often associated with him-

“Hey, your food’s gonna get cold if you keep staring like that.”

Your eyes widen in record time. It’s a hideous realization that you’ve zoned out on watching the renowned sorcerer-turned-temporary-roommate inhale his overpriced dinner, all from being overcome with either exhaustion or acceptance of your cramped situation. At this point, it’s maybe a little of both.

“Sorry,” you mumble, not even caring to articulate a more acidic response. It seems you’re beginning to neutralize into Gojo’s presence, and he mentally takes note of your changing chemistry with him as you quietly stab at your steak bites.

He’s got the perfect opportunity to coo something vain back, like “Don’t apologize, I’d stare too if it were me,” but he doesn’t. He simply keeps eating, sparing you with a less than uncomfortable silence. It’s never been the worst thing between you two given your extensive work history, and you feel yourself soften slightly when the bland hotel room’s air isn’t filled with his assumptive commentary for once. As your plates both get emptier, he feels this sudden need to hold your attention, as you’re less likely to be as combative as you’ve been before. You’re... not so set on hating him.

“You tired?”

Gojo’s two-worded inquiry jars you, almost to the point of choking on your bread. It's something genuine. He closes up one of the empty to-go boxes and shoves it into the takeout bag before pulling out the monstrosity that is his slice of cheesecake. For some reason your heart stammers at how refreshing the possibility of a real conversation with him could actually be.

You’ve got the perfect opportunity to snap something defensive back, like “Yeah, of you,” but you don’t. His shiny eyes shift under the fabric of his blindfold to you, almost prompting you to answer.

“…Yeah, I must be making it pretty obvious,” you say, unintentionally yawning and proving his point. If you were any more relaxed with him, he would’ve told you how cute you looked doing that. You secure your leftovers and start to chuck them into the bag before a large hand suddenly stops you with a “gimme” motion.

“Judging by how easily you’re willing to waste that perfectly good food…it’s not hard to tell,” he prods at you with a grin that you would’ve unnerved you earlier, but at this hour it’s a little more welcoming. Is that a snicker that comes out of you? You hand over the half-eaten order of steak bites to his jubilation, and he’s already popping open the lid to pick one up with his fingers.

Curse your brain in its exhausted state, because it’s nearly hypnotized by his digits. They’re long, dextile, confident somehow. They’re slender and defined, yet capable of serious damage- this you know all too well, and that excites you more than it should. The slice of meat dwarfs in his hold, its shiny reddish myoglobin starting to trickle down his hand and wrist, and it decorates his fine veins and tendons there with its sheen…

No, there’s no way you’re jealous of a piece of meat right now. Did you seriously feel a flutter somewhere that you shouldn’t? Satoru Gojo is literally eating your leftovers with his bare, grubby hands, and you’ve made the fatal error of finding it attractive. Yeah, you’re definitely sleeping in the bathtub tonight before your conflicted mind wanders any further.

He munches on the remainder of your dinner before finally digging into the cheesecake, and you feel blessed for the distraction from your shifting thoughts when you two chat about the mission at hand tomorrow. Is he worried about the curses you’ll be dealing with? No, of course not. According to him, he’s only worried about messing up his hair. Oh, and that expensive jacket you were careful not to touch earlier. With that all that added up, maybe he is nervous about it.

When the conversation dies down, the only sound in the unimpressive hotel room is the game show now playing on the practically vintage television. You quietly scroll your phone while your colleague digs into the soft dessert, stopping suddenly to stick his fork out to you.

“Want a bite? And before you say no, I already told you my cooties aren’t contagious.”

Is this real kindness? You whip your head to face him, studying the glob of caramel-drizzled sweetness, and he’s waving the fork around like a magic wand complete with some convincing “whoosh” sound effects. It’s even more comical with the way he fills his seat, almost like he’s sitting in a doll’s chair. The sight beside you makes you stifle a laugh, and in that moment you realize something: while he constantly irritates you, Satoru Gojo is the brightest, liveliest thing in that damn room. It’s not saying much given the plain wallpaper, dull sheets, and dusty furniture, but it all amounts to him looking pretty good despite your surroundings. If you weren’t sober right now, you’d admit that he looks pretty good just about anywhere. He’s so unfitting, literally, in the drab, cramped space that you almost want to let that very laugh out.

“Eh…I don’t believe you, but even if they weren’t... I couldn’t avoid them in this room anyway,” you joke sleepily, reaching for the fork and pushing the bite of cheesecake past your lips. He’s sitting pretty close, near enough that his spicy cologne still dances in your senses, but if he were any closer you’d swear you could spot him watching how your lips attached so tightly around the plastic silverware. You’re trying desperately to avoid the fact that sharing the fork was like indirectly kissing him, because if you think about it long enough it’ll make you blush all over again. So much for keeping a distance between you two.

You realize something else: he might’ve had a point with his dessert selection. “That is pretty good,” you commentate, handing him back the fork. There’s almost a soft expression on his blindfolded face when he wordlessly pushes the rest of the heaping slice between the two of you, as if the sugary dessert could substitute for a peace treaty. This is how all truces should go, you silently decide.

“Here, have some more in case you die tomorrow,” Gojo tuts with a grin, knowing fully well that you’d be perfectly fine during your assignment the next day. He loves to poke at you, but he can also recognize all the hard work you do. Hell, putting up with him was a full-time job, he could admit.

Your mouth flies open to let out a lighthearted “You asshole,” and you reflexively move to smack his shoulder. You’re even more shocked when your palm actually makes contact with the muscle there..as is he.

Gojo had turned his Infinity off. He must’ve gotten so caught up in wanting to break down your guard this evening that he neglected to remember his own.

“No way, I actually landed a hit on the Satoru Gojo,” you beam. Triumphantly taking another bite of the cheesecake, you feel his gaze train on you. His face-chiseled, you have to say- is conveying something unidentifiable. There’s some surprise and some amusement, but there’s another emotion lingering in the slight rise of his light eyebrows and his relaxed jaw. Something deeper, almost longing. It honestly concerns you for a moment, but he’s quick to recover by slumping backward over the chair, clutching a hand where yours landed just seconds before.

“Abuse! How dare you!” He declares, gripping his shoulder in the throes of his dramatics. “Yaga will be hearing about this. I’m reporting you to the higher-ups!”

“Don’t even. I’ll tell them you sabotaged my technology then,” you counter, waving your phone. “Oh, and that you misused company funds.” You point accusingly at the heap of cheesecake between you both. “And then we’ll both get fired.”

His fists hit the table as he falls forward dramatically. “Ugh…But then we’d end up living here,” he sighs woefully, “and that would be the worst part of all.”

You openly crack up at his refreshing honesty, finally recognizing this room for the shithole that it is, and you feel a newfound warmth spread throughout your chest. “Hmmm… But then we could keep ordering this cheesecake.” Maybe you like bantering with him, you decide.

Gojo chuckles as he stands up from his seat, dragging it back to where it resided in the corner and going along with your bit. “Not if we can’t ‘misuse our funds,’ you tattletale. We better start thinking of a side hustle to keep our lifestyle going.”

There’s a certain weight to “we”s and “our”s that make your heart palpitate just the slightest. It’s like a promise of a future together, a future beyond the uninspiring walls you were forced to rest in tonight. Still in your fit of tired giggles, you close up the remainder of the dessert before sticking it in the hotel room’s loud, antiquated mini fridge. The change of pace between you both is almost freeing, allowing you to consider the idea of actually sleeping somewhat soundly tonight.

“Well, you ponder on that. I’m gonna get ready for bed.” You’re quick to tuck into the bathroom as your laughter dies down, taking your bag with you to switch into the pajamas you packed. All the while, you’re secretly wondering what the sleeping situation is going to look like. You know you’re desperate for rest and given how the evening between you two has warmed a little, the idea of sharing the tiny bed with Gojo is…less than awful to you now. You step out, only to gasp when said man is right outside the door. He’s leaning against the frame with his own bag slung over his shoulder, grinning wickedly and looking all too smug

“My turn, princess. Coming through!”

The novel nickname flutters through your system as he squeezes past you, closing the door in your face with another low chuckle. God, he’s an idiot, you think with a smile, opting to perch in the seat he used for dinner until he returns to the room.

You’re playing a mindless game on your phone when you hear the bathroom door squeak closed, and Gojo plops back into the stiff bed. There’s no shirt on his sculpted body, only a baggy pair of black pajama pants whose waistband barely kisses his narrow hips. Humbled is an understatement when you try not to ogle at the sorcerer before you, whose murder you were secretly plotting just hours before. The skin on your face is akin to the Sun’s surface as you summon every ounce of will not to stare, but his Six Eyes promptly detects the sheepish change in your demeanor.

“So, you sharing this thing with me or what?” He looks over at you in the chair as he stretches over the traverse of the mattress, head propped on one hand while the other toys with his blindfold. “Since you don’t seem to care about my cooties anymore.” The repeated movement of those long, deft fingers looping around the fabric is enough to conjure a flashback to him eating those damn steak bites, and you feel hot all over again. It shouldn’t be suggestive, it really shouldn’t, but the way he’s talking makes it seem like he wants you beside him.

You rest your chin in your hand as you reply with a frown, pretending to think, “Hmmm. That’s gonna be a tight fit.” He snorts in response, something devious but expected on the tip of his tongue, and you realize it as soon as you answer. “Don’t even say it, Gojo.”

He feigns surprise, scooting over and patting the pillow beside him. “Pffft. When have I been known to say anything out of pocket?” He can’t deny the thought of fitting tightly somewhere else, his aqua eyes flashing with a desire he’s never allowed himself to feel for a long time. “Listen princess, you’ve only got two choices for tonight, so pick wisely. There’s somewhere tight-“ he pats the pillow again, -“or somewhere wet.” The thumb previously tugging on the fabric around his eyes jabs toward the bathroom door.

There’s that nickname again. “How erotic,” you snicker, wordlessly complying and letting your exhaustion guide the way to the empty side of the bed. It’s not a ton of space, but you’ll do your best to make it work. Carefully, you slide in to avoid touching him, realizing just how difficult that task is going to be in your limited amount of territory. Should you make a pillow border between you two? No, because then that would take up even more precious space. Maybe if you bunched up some of your blanket-

“Alright! Wait till Shoko hears about this!”

Gojo visibly approves of your choice as he watches you timidly sidle in next to him, wearing that stupidly eager grin on his face and whooping like a sports game attendee. Shooting him a playful glare and an “Oh, enough with you, Six Eyes,” you feel the cool sheets hit your skin, and your body erupts in goosebumps through your thin-ish shirt and shorts. You quickly face the opposite way as him, but not before stealing another glance at his ridiculously toned chest and stomach as he reaches to turn the bedside lamp off. God, he smells so good, like minty toothpaste and his cologne. Darkness abruptly envelops you as your heart pounds, and you have a horrible thought: Who said I wouldn’t be wet sleeping here?

You hear Gojo release a barely audible sigh, almost as if he’s tentative to fall asleep beside you too. He’s not sure who to trust less, you or himself, but he hides his apprehension with a couple more quips as you settle into the compact mattress.

“You have any idea how many people would pay to be where you are right now? You are so lucky.”

He could talk in circles with you again for hours if it meant prolonging the inevitable vulnerability that is unconsciousness beside another person- though a deeper part of him reasons there’s nothing to worry about. Maybe there are other things you could do instead of talk, he thinks, doing little to shake the idea away. It’s kind of nice, way more than nice, the image of you all spread out below him-

The eye roll you respond with is felt by him but not seen in the lightless room. Clouded by an atypical hunger and pure fatigue, you murmur back, “Don’t worry, I tip well,” and a smug smile forms on your face. It’s kind of fun getting to poke back at him. That’s all it is, right? Harmless banter. Gojo senses your intentions on a level unbeknownst to you, though- and he’s not entirely upset at them.

“Listen to you! That was smooth. I just might give you a discount for that.” You hear the sheets rustle beside you, and you slowly turn. He’s fully facing you, boyishly propping his head up on his fist with his near-glowing eyes now exposed. You notice that his blindfold has now been placed neatly on the outdated nightstand. He’s keenly tuned in on you, finding your pajamas a little too cute for a pre-mission night of sleep. It’s clearly getting more difficult for him to deny how entertained he is by the sight of you all snuggled in on your diminutive side of the crappy hotel bed.

You pretend to cover your eyes after seeing his finally revealed to you, feeling thoroughly proud of yourself for matching his energy now. “Put those LEDs away, good lord,” you joke, allowing yourself to let out a sleepy laugh as you pull up the covers to give your bumpy skin some salvation. His intentful gaze is already doing plenty to send heat throughout your limbs though, and the act of grabbing the blanket is an effort in vain. As your eyelids flutter with the weight of tiredness, you understand just how close you two are in the moment. Mentally, you were so much farther away earlier in the evening than you are now- and it takes a second for you to process that you actually like the change.

Gojo laughs softly, and you can hear the late hour begin to seep into his tone. It grows more throaty, lower than before, and it’s entirely too pleasant. Part of you wonders if he’d consider the proposition of reading you a bedtime story. There’s a lingering tension in the air, nearly tangible, and it shifts when you note how his eyes flicker all over your face. Eyes, lips, back to eyes, back to lips.

“Maybe I wanna look at you a little longer. Are you gonna report me to the higher-ups for that, too?” Gojo bats his icy white lashes, his oaky scent further settling into the sheets. The only light in the shoddy room comes from his vibrant irises, and they’re spotlighting on you with piqued interest. The light has always come from him, and it’s an epiphany that has you scooting an inch closer.

“If those things blind me, I will.” You exhale through your nose, partially wishing you could reach out to the heat that radiates off his halfway bare body.

He blinks, and you swear the room flashes dark again for that split second. “Well, y’know, that might be a good thing,” he tries to reason lightheartedly, in a volume just above a whisper. “You wouldn’t have to look at this ugly room anymore.” You watch his hand- the same one you nearly salivated over earlier- land in the limited space between you two, almost as if it wants to cross that border. It takes the most willpower you’ve ever needed not to stare at it, feeling your face flush with a sick anticipation. “I’d be saving you.” Maybe it’s what he’s always wanted to do all along, you both think, and it encourages you to be just as coy back.

In this moment, you feel bold enough to say something you thought would never leave your mouth: “But then I wouldn’t get to look at all six foot three of you.” You pout sarcastically, and Gojo gets the urge to kiss it right off your face. His grin is proud; it’s everything he never knew he wanted to hear.

Your teasing is like a silent permission for his hand to move closer to you, and your entire body stills when you feel it land gently on your lower thigh to play with the frilled hem of your shorts. Must be a pattern of his, you realize. He chuckles, and the sound is so low that you can practically feel it.

“Hmm… You’re right. Again.” Your work partner’s head tilts down slightly at you, and his expression is overcome with what can only be described as relief. “Guess I need to save you some other way.” He notices the goosebumps adorning your figure, and suddenly you’re pressed up against his broad chest. God, he’s so warm, you don’t even realize the way you’re curling right up into him. Somehow, despite your height difference, you fit perfectly along his lanky frame.

“Better?”

You are tired, fatigued beyond belief, but you’d be stupid not to stay awake to experience Satoru Gojo letting his guard down for you. Perhaps this dismal hotel room was a test of will for you two, and while you’re not entirely sure what denotes passing or failing, you do know one thing: Satoru Gojo is unbelievably comfortable to cuddle with.

Still…you wonder what would unfold if you pushed further.

“Hmmm… still not warm enough.” The words leave you before you can tame them, and the unspoken invitation behind them makes his eyebrows raise. The hand playing with the fabric of your shorts squeezes into your skin just the slightest, prompting you to look up at him where you see no reserves on his handsome (God, it’s good to admit that) face. His soft pink lips hover inches from your own, drawing closer like magnets.

“Really.” You feel a thumb rub slow circles along your outer thigh. “I can fix that for you, yeah?” His words shoot straight to your core as his head ducks a little lower, just breaths away from yours.

Well, you’re definitely not tired anymore.

“If you’re still offering that discount…” you breathe out. A rush of smugness allows you to bring your hands to his toned chest, traveling up to trace his defined collarbone. His skin is soft, almost velvety, most likely from years of keeping his perimeter so trained to avoid any unnecessary contact, and the act of smoothing your fingers over it becomes soothing.

Gojo’s lopsided grin conveys the desire he’s suppressed for so long, seemingly caught up in this new dynamic with you. “Nah, we’ll put it on the credit card,” he finally laughs before confidently pressing his lips to yours.

He is an entirely new taste, and you’re not able to reference his movements to anything or anyone; it’s another level of tact and precision. Did he plan this? His kisses are the perfect mix of messy and firm, and it’s clear he’s doing all but holding back. Something unlocks as he goes through the motions, maybe the realization of the snapped tension or maybe the feeling of you kissing back just as passionately, and his mouth soon scatters everywhere from your lips to your jaw to your neck in a flurry of teeth and tongue. He’s somehow magically in tune with your most sensitive areas of the exposed skin as his lips wander, leaving you to grab his firm bicep and cling as if he’s grounding you to the earth. The details of the dingy hotel room are completely abandoned as you feel your senses envelop, finally, with all that is Satoru Gojo, and there was truly no beauty greater than that.

Chest heaving, you almost let out a laugh at how rapidly the night has shifted. His well-trained hands travel, one squeezing the tissue of your breast over your thin shirt while the other dances just below the leg of your shorts. With all walls down, it’s pointless to hide the effect his touch has on you. If his hand moved any higher, he’d discover how wet you were- part of you dreaded how inflated his ego would become after that, but the other, hungrier part of you needed him to do it.

“Anyone ever told you-“ Gojo breathes out between his attack, brushing a thumb over your hardened nipple, “how pretty you are?” He is all too focused on drinking in your features, finding your weakest and favorite points. Your back arches ridiculously easily into his touch as you struggle to find the words to answer him.

“N-no one else that’s mattered.”

You’re sure his ego will balloon rapidly upon that little admission, but you partly didn’t care- not when he was capable of making you feel so unbelievably good.

He’s rightfully amused at how blatant your desire is now. “Oh? So I do matter to you then.” His other hand roams up your thigh, threatening to reach where you wanted it most. You snicker before a shudder erupts from you when a long, hot stripe is licked down your neck and over your shoulder, and it’s all you need to swing your leg over his, straddling him on the stiff, narrow mattress. The flex of his abs as he sits up to accommodate you is nothing short of poetic, and you find more prose in the clouded, desperate fog of his azure eyes when he watches you with curiosity. He immediately rests his grip on your waist, pressing you down gently onto what can only be described as a monster underneath his sweats. You understand now why he carries himself the way that he does: He’s fucking huge.

You push your chest against his, unable to stop the twitch of your hips when you feel Gojo’s hardness brush against your heat. The wetness of your arousal is sure to be felt through the fabric, and he’d be silly to halt your admittedly cute display of attempts in chasing just an ounce of pleasure. Your flushed face, furrowed eyebrows, small noises, it’s motion picture to him. However, he selfishly wants to be that pleasure for you, and he’s quick to slide a hand down your body to cup your pussy through your pajamas.

Your jaw goes slack as Gojo’s hand makes contact with your most sensitive area over your shorts, and the circles he rubs help him collect some of the condensation from the fabric. It feels good, but not good enough, and you can’t help but huff at the restricted movement. He is all too cocky when his hand pulls away, eyeing it with an intense mirth.

“Damn, waterworks, you always get this wet?” He’s half-amazed and half-amused as he studies his glistening fingers, his other hand gripping at your ass. “That’s so hot.”

“Shut up, Satoru.” You smack his bare shoulder before burying your face into it, feeling your cheeks turn crimson. He chuckles, finding you adorable when you’re embarrassed yet hating that you feel that way. He knows just how to help you get over that, and he starts by slowly sliding his body down, holding your thighs spread as he maneuvers his head onto the flat-ish pillow. You glare down confusedly at him in his newfound position, only to meet with eager cerulean eyes that are practically begging to pull you closer.

“Fine then, I’ve got other stuff I wanna do with my mouth anyway,” you hear him murmur from between your thighs, and his hand brushes over your clothed, throbbing cunt again. “Now sit, princess.”

“Huh? No, you won’t be able to breathe, I can’t.” Your head shakes vigorously in disapproval. Not that you didn’t want them there, but there was no way… you’d probably end up suffocating the guy, and while you had a more murderous urge to do that earlier this evening you’d much rather-

“Fine with me, now lemme taste you,” Gojo insists with almost a whine in his tone, not letting you respond before pulling the soaked crotch of your shorts to the side and licking a long, forceful line from your hole to your clit. You moan when he does it again, and again, feeling your knees weaken to finally sink yourself onto his mouth. The groan that vibrates against your nerve endings makes you look down, only to see his frosty white lashes flutter as you fill his senses. This was well worth the hours of wearing down your resolve this evening.

His movements become frantic, desperate to experience you now that he’s let his guard down this long with no dire consequences. You feel his tongue lap at your sensitive clit, and his lips kiss in your heat so loudly and wetly that it sounds like a porn scene. Your hands fly to his ivory hair, gripping till his scalp stings. This makes him groan again, and you can barely control the way your hips start to rock along his mouth.

Gojo breaks away for a split second, tongue dragging along your inner thigh with his cock nearly in pain because of he’s got you where he wants you. “Just like that, baby, ride my face,” he huffs quickly before returning to flattening his tongue along your clit. You feel him squeeze the cheeks of your ass, forcing you onto the hot muscle and encouraging you to continue.

He seems to be breathing just fine, you realize- which of course he is, he’s Satoru fucking Gojo- he could handle just about anything. It gives you the confidence to rut your hips forward, moaning louder when his lips wrap around your overstimulated nerve and suck hard. You earn a playful smack on your ass when his name slips out of your mouth, and the stinging sends you further into your frenzy for pleasure as you start to build up a pace. It’s addicting, really, the way he’s lapping and sucking at your aching cunt like it’s his favorite dessert, and you’re suddenly thankful that he has the appetite that he does. He breaks away for a second to spit into your heat, spreading your slick folds wide with those deft fingers of his, and that only has you rocking harder along his mouth when he reattaches himself. To him, you are so much better than any sweet he’s had.

You don’t even realize you’re doing it, but you’re tugging Gojo’s snowy tresses in shallow efforts to further bury his face in your cunt as you ride it, and he’s all too happy that you’re using him in this way. As his tongue prods up into your tight entrance, he feels his cock throb again at the prospect of how it would feel inside of you. He groans at the thought, and you feel it all the way up in your ribcage. He’s already picked up on the fact that you’re close, judging by how your frantic movements have sped up and the way you’re babbling incoherent praises that only make him ache more.

“Fuck, Satoru, feels so- good- please…”

When Gojo lets out a little laugh at that, you feel your slick dribble messily down your thighs. That hot, blinding pressure grows stronger under your navel when you grind harder on his tongue, threatening to spill over when he starts to flick it along your clit to match your pace. It all feels so deliciously good that you pay no mind to his nails digging into your flesh, his own way of ensuring he’s leaving a mark- as if he hasn’t decorated your neck in shades of blotchy fuchsia already.

“I’m-so-close….”

He gives your ass another smack with your breathy cry, looking up at you with eyes that nearly beam. You look down while your hips continue to drag along his tongue, finding him just so damn pretty while he’s eating you so good, and you ease your fingers in his hair. That impending sensation grows stronger, and he quickly parts from your lips to murmur confidently:

“I know, princess, I got you. Lemme have it.”

His choice of words and the way he immediately goes back to lapping at your heat are both more than enough to have you coming apart around his tongue in mere seconds. There is nothing in your mind’s eye but Gojo as your high overtakes you, fizzling through your being and prompting you to cry out his name as if it’s a chant. He soaks it all in, helping you ride out your release before slowing to kiss his way back up your body. You’ve never come that hard- and somehow, he senses this too. Your legs feel like jelly when he’s finally face-to-face with you, and his is glistening with your arousal. If he wasn’t desperate to be inside of you right now he could do that for hours, he thinks.

You lean in, capturing your lips with Gojo’s and wrapping your arms around his neck to kiss him deeply. Your own taste on your lips does little to dissuade you from him, and for the next few moments, you both feverishly rip off whatever clothing is still unfortunately on your bodies. He, as gracefully as he can given the annoyingly small hotel bed, maneuvers you onto the pillow so you’re lying on your back, and you feel his heavy cock hit your stomach. He pauses for a second to study your features, finding that every inch of you is worth burning to memory. You’re stunning like this, all sticky and flushed and needy, and it’s all because of his efforts. He’s only more gratified when your mouth flies open at his impressive size.

“You're kidding. That's not gonna fit,” You sputter, still in your post-orgasm daze, but you feel your hole clench around nothing when you notice the filmy drops of pre beading around his thick tip.

His laugh is genuine, almost melodic as he pumps himself a few times. “Such a downer. We’ll make it fit, ‘kay?” Gojo promises with a goofy grin, letting his hand wander along your bare nipples and stomach before eventually revisiting your now sore cunt. You hiss in delight when he slides one of his long fingers in, and your legs spread automatically at the intrusion. Even in the most cramped bed ever, you’d realize you’d make room for him anywhere. You reach out, dragging your hand along his chiseled stomach, nearly in awe at how firm the muscles are there. He’s like if art was living, breathing, unrestricted from a canvas or frame.

Your hand slides further, silently encouraging his own to move so you can take over stroking his hardened cock as his finger curls along your hot walls. You moan quietly, watching his breath hitch in his broad chest- he’s not sure whether to watch your face or your movements, and there’s an eagerness within him that amplifies when he sees how tightly you’re sucking in just a digit of his. His hips jut forward slightly when your thumb brushes his sensitive tip, and he finally decides to look into your eyes. You stare back, wanting to say so much about how his are the perfect shade of blue.

“Y’know why I harass you so much?” He asks in a tone that reaches a new level of softness for him, and you entertain his question as he slowly introduces a second finger. The stretch is delicious, though you think it’s doing little to prep for the monstrosity that awaits you.

“‘Cause you’re Satoru Gojo?” You reply before letting out a hiss at a particularly sensitive spot he hits within you.

He snorts. “Well, yeah, and ‘cause I think you’re pretty. Inside and out. Gorgeous, actually.”

You blush a little at how he turns a silly banter into a very real confession, and you watch his eyelids flutter again. Actually, you feel kind of bad for being so lighthearted while he was being serious- that was his thing, anyway. Times like these were what made his bluntness endearing, and he continues, beginning to align his length with your dripping entrance after slowly removing his fingers.

“So, lemme prove it.”

Feeling all kinds of giddy you nod, angling your thighs so his hips can fit between them. His spongy tip drags through your slick folds, and it’s the most you’ve ever felt another person focus so directly on you. You look up at him, bringing your hands up his stomach and to his defined shoulders as his tip sinks into you just the slightest.

“Well, you’re pretty too, like otherworldly handsome,” you admit back with a timid smile, clearly trying to regain your breath. “Just couldn’t tell you ‘cause you were too busy harassing me.” You exhale when he submerges himself a little more, and he smiles back with his pearly white teeth. “You’re fucking huge, too… oh my god…” you add, moaning a little at how his cock feels nothing like his fingers. You hate to admit it, but it’s clear he’s set to wreck you.

“Naturally.” He’s using every ounce of strength to control himself from pounding into you, responding to your praise and your criticism all at once. Gojo slowly and gently pushes in until his hips are flush with yours, and it feels as if he’s tearing you from the inside. Your face is scrunched at the intrusion, and he has to cover his own mouth to stop a moan at how tight you feel. There’s no other convincing needed by him that your pussy was practically made for him, he thinks, and he studies your features for any indication of stopping.

“Look at you,” he coos, nearly mesmerized by how your cunt has already swallowed him whole. His hand slides down his face to tweak at one of your hardened nipples. “And you said I wouldn’t fit. Takin’ it like a pro, princess.” His lighthearted motivation makes you snicker a little, and it eases some of the stinging from the stretch he’s causing. He gives you a few shallow thrusts, and his eyes practically roll to the back of his head when your hot walls grip around him. It takes a few moments for you to adjust to his size, and when finally you do, you give him the silent go-ahead by softening your expression. His grin could blind a room full of people when he thrusts deeper, not only reaching that same sensitive spot but finding another, and it makes your head loll back to the pillow.

That reminds him. He pauses for a second to slide one of the cheap hotel pillows under your tailbone, and suddenly his cock feels like it’s colliding with your guts when he continues his movements. Your mouth couldn’t fall any more open as he starts to establish a pace, filling you so masterfully yet harshly with every stroke.

“Sa-to-ru…” you pant, digging your nails into Gojo’s sculpted back, and this only motivates him more. You have a realization that could either be horrible or amazing: How could you ever fuck anyone else again? Again and again he’s thrusting into that magical spot till the sounds of your wetness fill the otherwise lackluster room, spoiling you for any other and reassuring you that yes, he really is the strongest. Part of him knows how skilled he is, and he has to refrain from laughing- no one would ever be enough once he was done with you. Then again, he never wants to be done with you.

You feel his tactful hands roam your body aimlessly, a visible sign of his enrapture with how you receive him. He wants to focus on watching his cock slam into your cunt over and over, but he also wants to watch your face as you writhe and cry out his name- he’s clearly conflicted.

The little breathy noises slipping out of him aren’t helping your cause, and the way he abruptly throws one of your legs over his broad shoulder doesn’t either. He’s now rutting into your tight heat relentlessly, a stark contrast from how delicately he’s kissing up the thigh that’s pressed into his chest.

“Your pussy is...perfect,” you hear Gojo groan, drawing the words out, and his kisses along your thigh become animalistic as they turn into bites. You whimper, back arching with all the sensations filling your system, and that heady feeling in your tummy begins to strengthen again. “Wanna-fuck you- forever…”

“Please,” you agree as your ability to form sentences leaves you. “Don’t ever- stop…”

In a perfect world, he wouldn’t. As one hand holds your thigh to his chest and the other travels to your overstimulated clit, his shiny blue eyes watch your contorting face, smiling proudly when you moan at how his fingers rub tight circles along your nerves. He can feel his release approaching alongside yours, and your slick walls flutter around his cock as he pummels into you.

“Want another one, princess,” Gojo pants, making your skin smack against his as your orgasm builds up in your tummy. “Go on, come on- my cock…”

His wish is your command. You quickly lean forward, mashing your lips with his when the pleasure fizzles out of you all over again. You feel the tips of your toes burn at how powerfully your release hits you, wracking your body with an almost overwhelming amount of pleasure. You’re reduced to a heaving, shaking mess, convulsing around his length and left only able to babble his name against his mouth in your state of bliss. His hand cradles the back of your head as he fucks you through the aftershock and kisses you roughly, only to follow close behind just moments later. His movements falter before your name falls from his lips, and his hips stutter as you feel yourself start to fill with his thick seed.

Holy shit. Who would’ve guessed that this was how your evening would turn out? Just mere hours ago you wanted to claw at his throat, and instead you clawed at his back because of how good he was dicking you down. Your mind swims as Gojo slowly withdraws, slipping out of your sore cunt to collapse beside you in what little space the hotel bed offered. He’s even gorgeous like this, maybe more than ever actually. You’re observing how his ivory hair sticks to his forehead and his back glistens with the thinnest layer of sweat from his efforts, the muscles there decorated with thin red indents from your nails. It’s a sight worth recreating an infinite number of times.

Not having him envelop all your senses anymore forces you back into reality, where a mission lies just hours ahead of you and your shared hotel room isn’t any prettier. And unbelievably, those things don’t even matter anymore. All you can perceive and recognize in your afterglow is Satoru Gojo, who is already regaining his breath while you lie there like a fucked-out mess. Beautiful.

Gojo turns to face you, watching your chest rise and fall as you regulate yourself, and his delighted grin is all too perfect for someone who just obliterated you.

“So…you warm enough now?”

Your sticky body shifts to face him, vibrating with laughter as you answer “For now, yes…” and your head hits the pillow exhaustedly. That’s right- you were already tired before this “development” even happened.

His whole being is pure elation as he languidly drapes an arm over your bare figure. “Does that mean we get to do that again? I think she really likes me.” His hand brushes over your abused cunt, and your body flares at his touch yet again. It was a sick epiphany that he could destroy you and you’d still want more.

You snicker. “Yes, but she is super sore right now.” The sleepiness from earlier seeps into your brain, and you find yourself curling back into his lanky frame. He accepts you openly, resting a hand on your ass as he scoops you closer.

“I can kiss her better,” he pipes up quietly, already thinking of all the ways he could keep touching you. Even though you feel that droning buzz of want again, you tiredly shake your head, regretfully reminding him “Noooo, we’ve gotta get up in a few hours. Maybe after our mission.” You swear his eyes desaturate a shade before he sighs.

“Yeah yeah yeah. You’re gonna be tired and sore anyway.”

“Oh, and you’re not?”

“Nah.” Gojo moves to press a fresh batch of kisses all over your neck, and you shudder. He did have a point- you were already planning on shotgunning whatever energy drinks were in the dingy hotel lobby’s vending machine in the morning, as if they even had one. “I could go all night if you wanted, princess. Give you more of my cooties.”

You laugh freely, realizing he probably wasn’t exaggerating. It’s quite the offer from the one who just wrecked you so good- and you’d be silly to refuse despite your tiredness. You feeling your limbs tangle into each other’s, returning thoughts of the hazardous hotel drifting away once more, and your arousal slowly revisits you. What an incredible way to forget about your surroundings. You tug playfully on his icy tresses, you decide that this might be your new favorite kind of exhaustion. “As long as you don’t share your cooties with anyone else.”

Snickering, Gojo keenly zeroes on spreading your aching legs so he can see the aftermath from earlier, and he’s hardening again at the sight of his thick cum barely trickling out onto your thighs. With a mischievous smile, he assures you, “Never. This is just too pretty. Plus, you said you were gonna tip well.”

His hands trace you, and there’s not a more discernible indicator of your new bond with him than when you look down at his length, answering him in a familiarly cheeky tone, “Well, you already did.” He laughs, the warmest he's ever allowed himself, and it's certain he's keeping his promise.

Turns out, Shoko was right about him.

#jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru #jjk smut #jjk gojo #gojou satoru x reader #gojo smut #gojou x reader #gojo x reader #gojo x you #mdni #jjk #jjk x you #satoru gojo

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silkythewriter · 4 months

Note

Hello! Can I request alastor x reader where the two were married while they were alive, but reader died via illness or something and went to hell (though they never partaked in the cannibalism) and the reunite in hell?

“I'll love you 'til I'm dead”

Warning!: Angst, but eventually fluff! A bit of OOC since I haven’t written in awhile.. (.,.)💧

Fandom!: Hazbin hotel!

Author note: LONGGGGG TIME NO SEE, HIYA! IM SO SORRY FOR MY HIATUS OF SORTS BUT I FELT LIKE WRITING SUM SMALL ♡´･ᴗ･`♡ I apologize!, I hope you guys enjoy and I’m so sorry for disagreeing yet again!.

Summary!: Spouse! Reader dying via sickness, but reuniting with alastor in hell.

ꕥ☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼ꕥ

Louise (Louise)

I'll love you 'til I'm dead

Louise (Louise)

Not even if she likes the way you dance

ꕥ☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼ꕥ

First of all, he cherished you to the fullest content. As stuck up as he seems to be smile and all, he was in desperate need of support and attention. And you supplying both of those was all he needed even if he didn’t say out loud the tender touches and moments you both shared alone was enough to tell you everything.

Your relationship was nothing less then sweet and tender, and depending if you knew of his..ahem..little side hobby, it was innocent as well!

He cared for you so deeply, so desperately, to the point where you became his tie to humanity. Of course he knew how to play a role of a sane man, but even then he needed you to tie him to the small humanity and sanity he had.

Although not a big fan of physical affection himself he would in private of course, indulge in your soft touches, and hold. He and there he may quietly slip next to you just so you could softly run you fingers across his skin.

But of course the unviable happen, as the world ripped him of what he held so dear. Maybe as a punishment for his sins and misdeeds, or simply because it could.

Of course in the 30’s medicine was far from advanced, not only that but expensive. So when the news arrived of your newly found sickness all he could do was smile and nod at the doctor as if he wasn’t receiving the most dreadful news.

At first, he genuinely did hope for a recovery, he believed you would get better. Sure a tiny voice in his head was feeding him scary thoughts, and his gut twisted and turned. He felt something was off but surely it was nothing!, right?.

But as your health deteriorated so did his mental state and sanity, even worse then it once was. He put up a front though, for your sake and his, comforting you and saying how you’ll be fine soon, and recover then both of you could go off and do something you always wanted to do.

At some points of repeating this it really turned into him assuring himself. That your not leaving him, no, not anytime soon.

The more you fell ill the more you watched him spiral infront of you. And all you really could do was stare at him with sadden eyes as you gave comforting touches against his cheek or holding him close, even if you could barely pull yourself up from the bed you laid.

You felt your time coming close to ending, and somehow so did he. But unlike you he denied it to the fullest extent.

“Please dear don’t speak of such things, don’t worry yourself. You’ll be fine you’ll see!, now just rest my dear”

He wanted to believe it’ll pass over anytime now, ignoring the doctors he spent fortunes on. And sometimes he does blame them even if they just told the truth. He hated how they couldn’t help you, how he couldn’t help you.

So the day of you passing was the day he lost his final tie to humanity. If not for you, why give such a nasty world mercy?.

ꕥ☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼ꕥ

The minute they lowered your casket and buried you with the dirt is also the day he decided to amp up his murders.

He’s not sloppy with his murders their always calculated and tidy but grossem. Even with this, losing you he couldn’t concentrate which didn’t help his case as his blood lust grew and grew.

Each and every murder his mind went blank, thoughts of you kept flooding in that he desperately wanted to rip from his mind.

If a woman that wore you same fragrant passed him. She would be gone in a matter of days.

Nights were colder, harsher, he always assumed karma would catch up to him, but to him not you.

He often questioned what happened how did it happen. How did you even get such a illness?, and why did it have to be you?. We’re you in heaven watching him in his pitiful state? Was there even such a thing?. If there was…he surely wasn’t going to see you he knew where he was damned to go, but you?, he was sure you deserved the Pearl-ist set of wings.

Depending on the days, months or years following your death, he’s like a ticking time bomb.

He yearns for you in such a way he’s humiliated at it in a way. He misses you desperately, widowed too soon, he always assumed it would be you to be in this position, but he assumed wrong.

Even then he couldn’t tell if he could subject you to the twist of his heart and guts. He would beg to die before you, but the pain he feels now is something he would never want you to feel.

Following thoughts of your death was also his. Would he get to see you soon?, one last glance before being damned?.

He never truly moved on, cause you were his only love. Loving someone for him atleast, was rare in a romantic sense.

At some point he genuinely does just continue his murders till his death, maybe it was your passing that truly killed him. After your passing he was a bit hasty, maybe that’s what lead him to be shot in the woods. But who truly knows?

ꕥ☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼ꕥ

Now, after his death is where everything truly came together.

His rise to power was fairly quick killing overloads one by one gaining more voices on his radio.

But the lingering feeling of hope stayed in him…maybe you were here? Waiting for him?, But at the same time he hated this life for you, in such a miserable and disgusting yet admittedly amusing place(at least to him)

Now depending on how you found him maybe the minute his radio debuted. Or maybe by a game of telephone by the residents in hell whispering rumors and describing someone all to familiar to you.

Either way! You guys do eventually find each other. By chance or destiny is up to you

The minute he spots you, hears you, even senses you, he freezes. His smile never flattering but static surrounding the area as he processes what’s happening. Is this some sort of trick?, how..how did you end up here?

In a matter a seconds though he’s in front of you, looming as his shadow grows in suspense.

He holds his appearance and self image very important but in this tiny moment of silence. He lets it slip even if just a bit, smile never faltering but I’m his eyes a glimpse of renewed joy. Genuine joy, not form the harms of others but from something warm…something bitter sweet.

Maybe it’s you who pipes up snapping him from observing you like a painting in a museum.

“See?” You said softly grabbing his hand gently like you used to do, as you softly brought it to your face and softly planted it on your cheek. “I’m real” you said with a soft smile (SILENT HILL REFERENCE!!¯\_(ツ)_/¯)

Depending on where you are he’s quick to whisk you away to somewhere secluded.

Despite the questions on his mind all he can do is silently stare at you taking in ever detail, even if some changes here and there, you were still you. The you that he missed so desperately for all too long.

Even if not one for physical affection he’s quick with holding you, scared of you being taken from him again, taking in all he can.

Your so much more precious then he leads on, and he’ll be damned to second hell if he loses you again.

In the period of first meeting you again he is keen on keeping an eye one you 24/7, doesn’t matter what powers or how long you survived without him in hell. He can’t risk it, especially not now as he started accumulating enemies so quickly.

He’ll treat you like it’s your first time dating, of course in his old time-y way, but either surprising you with flowers at random times of the day, or watching you get giddy when he kisses the crown of your head.

Now that he knows, and felt the pain of losing you, every moment you have together form than on is cherished more than before. He remembers every day with you like the back of his hand, what you ate, what you said, what you wore, and more!

He know’s…he knows he’s a messed up, and vail man. He understands the gruesome things he’s done with little to no regret. But if he did in somehow and some way do good, something good to earn you back in his afterlife man is he greatful for it.

Some nights he does just stare at you. He’s scared, he will never show it but he is. If he loses you again, for eternity, he’s not sure what’d he do with himself. And that, the fact you weight so heavily on him is the second scariest thing, first being losing you.

Over all, he’s taken aback having you back, but he gets use to it very quickly, your soft comforting touches and your voice that brings back a flood of memories is something he will never forget nor let ago, he isn’t losing you this time, and he’ll do anything to make sure of that.

ꕥ☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼ꕥ

WOW THAT WAS LONG, I LOVED WRITING IT THOUGH OH MY GOSH I LOVED THIS IDEA, PLEASE REQUEST AGAIN!!! \(^ヮ^)/

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rubyuji · 5 months

Text

Treat (Kim Mingyu) ୧ ‧₊˚ 🍰 ⋅ ☆

“So Y/n, I see you noticed the cute baker in the kitchen. Any plans on getting to know him?” °❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

Genre: Fluff

AU: University!au

Pairing: Culinary Student!Baker!Mingyu x Medical Student!reader

Warnings: None just tooth-rotting fluff

Synopsis: An average medical student getting by who meets the cute baker from the small bakery across the street in front of her university.

Note: This used to be a TXT fic but I edited it and now it’s a Mingyu fic because I have a bunch of wips that I’m dying to finish. Here’s something for me to post at least, happy reading! As always, don’t forget to like + reblog as a way to support.

WC: 5.4k

Being a medical student was a pain in the ass and was way worse than how people would describe it, it cost money, time as well as your mental and emotional stability. It’s not like anyone would want to study the anatomy of a human in a dull lecture hall with like forty other people, or know how a whiff of a cigarette could even kill you.

Yet here you were, already going the works of med school, and there was no turning back from it all, because although you were passionate, you still had a limit to how much you could take, even if you had always dreamed of becoming a pediatrician to keep you motivated.

“Oh my God Jihyo, I don’t think I’m ready to take this exam. I’m probably going to flunk this semester and I’ll be stuck as a receptionist in scrubs at a local clinic if I don’t get my head straight” you say tearfully.

Your friend Jihyo chuckled as she patted your back comfortingly, assuring you that you would do just fine and that you had already done enough studying the past few days. You weren’t stupid, just dramatic.

“You’ll be fine Y/n, don’t worry about it otherwise you will start to feel even worse. You’ve studied like crazy so it would be insane if you didn’t do so well, like you always do” she smiled softly in reply.

You shoot Jihyo a weak smile back and sigh once again, at least one of your best friends kept you somewhat sane, you couldn’t say the same for your appearance though. With heavy eyebags and eyes that looked as hollow as your soul, anyone would probably mistake you for a psych ward patient if you were caught walking around by yourself.

“Thanks, and good luck to us once we step into the exam hall. We’re gonna need it, me especially” you sigh after gathering the rest of the materials you’ll need for the exam itself.

When an hour passed, the exam completely drained you of all the life you had left. You stepped out of the exam hall with Jihyo groggily. You just wanted to go home and sleep all your problems away, but if you were already struggling as a freshman, how much more would you be in the future knowing you still had thirteen more years to go?

“Is it too late to change careers and become a full-time sugar baby or stripper?” You ask your friend and roommate, Rosé, who was just as drained as you were.

“I don’t think so. Let’s go on that sugar baby website” she chimed back in exhaustion. Chungha laughed at you both on the couch before setting down a pizza on the coffee table in front of you, along with a few drinks and a huge bottle of coke.

“Cheer up ladies, we’ll get through all of this before you know it. Now eat up, the food’s getting cold” Chungha hissed.

You and Rosé helped yourselves without another word, the three of you scarfing down all the food and complaining about midterms just to get your system going.

In the middle of the conversation, Rosé had suddenly brought up the bakery that just opened across the university.

“By the way, a new bakery opened up across the street from our school, do you guys wanna try and visit tomorrow?” She chirped.

You guys didn’t have anything to lose, so you and Chungha agreed before setting a certain time to meet after your last exam. That was when you realized it was getting late so you all cleaned up and started to get ready for bed.

“Goodnight you two! Good luck as well, we’ll need it for our last set of exams” You bid your roommates goodnight as you retreat into your room.

“Whew! That was exhausting, I’m glad everything is over with because chemistry should be the least of my problems for now” you cheered.

Rosé groans and runs a hand through her hair in frustration. Chungha was late, and it was because her boyfriend Jungkook wanted some alone time with her.

“God if Chungha doesn’t come in like five minutes I’m gonna assume they need their ‘THEM’ time” she huffs. You laugh and just grab Rosé while giving Jihyo a call. If Chungha getting it, at least someone else can take her place, for now, her boyfriend probably needs a lot of relief.

“Jihyo can come, she’ll be there in like ten. For now, we should order in advance” you say, as you both enter the bakery.

The interior was very cute and minimal, everything was white marble, be it the racks and tables with checkered flooring. On the ceiling hung two crystal chandeliers that reflected light causing a blur of rainbows to scatter across the room.

“Wow you were right, this place is adorable Rosie! Let’s go order drinks and pick our bread” you squeal and drag her over.

Behind the register, you see a guy with black hair and another guy with light brown hair bickering about something.

“Jeonghan, I swear to fucking God if you—“ the black-haired male was cut off after seeing you and Rosé walking over.

“Go serve the customers first, I’ll be waiting in the back” The brunette smirked, and retreated into the kitchen behind the counter.

At the counter, the guy greets you with a charming smile, just about charming enough to get you flustered, but you didn’t want to look like a mess right now so you browsed the menu behind him.

“Hi! Welcome to Carat Cravings! What can I get you two today?” You read his nametag and saw that he was named Seungcheol. ‘Cute’ you say to yourself and smile back at him.

“Can we get one fruit and egg tart with a margarita pizza for here, please? And for the drinks one caramel macchiato and one americano, both iced with a fruit ade please” Seungcheol punches your orders into the register and looks up at you both again.

“Will that be all?” He asks, and you nod as you hand him your card. Rosé looked at you almost frazzled and was about to refuse your offer to pay, but then noticed that you had caught wind of another guy from behind in the kitchen.

As Seungcheol hands you your card back, you and Rosé make your way to a table near the window. “So Y/n, I see you noticed the cute baker in the kitchen. Any plans on getting to know him?” She giggled softly.

You looked at her with a glare and shook your head furiously. No, you weren’t the kind of person to date because you always prioritized your studies more than anything, but you had to admit, the baker was just so cute.

He was tall and had beautiful sunkissed skin with jet black hair and had a face that almost resembled a puppy, and maybe you also couldn’t help but notice that he had nice hands that kneaded the dough so well. You’d imagine what his hands would do if they were—

“Y/n! Hi Rosie!” Your thoughts were cut short as Jihyo entered the bakery and called over to you both excitedly. She was beaming as you made space for her to sit beside you.

“Hi Jihyo, you look happy for someone who came out of our hour-long exam” Rosé eyed her suspiciously. Jihyo only laughed and waved off what she said while staring both of you down.

“My sister called right after and said the hospital she’s working at is accepting part-timers! I just came here feeling happy about it” she says excitedly.

You and Rosé were shocked but also happy for her knowing that having a sister who worked at a hospital had its perks too. Jihyo was just one of the lucky ones, but everyone starts somewhere.

“Sorry to interrupt ladies but here are your orders! If you need anything else you can just call for me or the other guy behind the counter, the one with light brown hair” Seungcheol placed your orders on the table and the three of you thanked him politely.

When Seungcheol had finally walked out of earshot, Jihyo had lowered her voice into a whisper. “This bakery is cute but oh my god, I never expected the workers to be cute as well,” she says in a giddy tone.

You laugh at her and take a piece of the pizza while sipping on your caramel macchiato, Jihyo still ogling at Seungcheol as Rosé gives her a disgusted look.

“Come on you two, what happened to putting our studies first? If you date during your freshman year you are going to end up as a receptionist in scrubs you hear me” Rosé says sarcastically, but you were too busy staring at the baker who just came out of the kitchen.

He was talking to the two other males behind the counter and sighed. That was when you noticed that he had eyed you up and down too before looking away.

“Y/n? Hello? What the fuck, oh wait it’s that baker” Rosé says with a huff. Jihyo giggles and shushes her, noticing how flustered you became all of a sudden.

The two knew you were never one to talk about guys or wanted to date since high school, so seeing you all worked up over someone you didn’t know would only make teasing you even worse.

“New motivation to go to class every day? I know you have evening classes, so maybe I could ask them what time they close” Jihyo says with a smirk.

“Oh shut up, the baker is just some stupid eye candy you know. I can’t let that go to waste” you try to brush it off, but in reality, you two were practically checking each other out without your friends noticing.

On the other hand, Mingyu also seems to have noticed you and how you stared at him from across the room. Opting to check you out too because you didn’t look that bad either, and because he needed a break from being in the kitchen since the morning.

“Mingyu? Are you alright? Don’t tell me you’re checking out that girl over there with her friends, I was planning to get first dibs because she looked the most interesting” Jeonghan whined.

Seungcheol smacked him on the back of his head and went to tidy whatever was on the counter until a few more customers came in, but then he turned towards the two.

“I mean, you’re not wrong. She looks really pretty, but Mingyu seems to put her on edge. They barely even know each other, but you can feel the tension between them, just go talk to her Gyu” the older male grins.

Mingyu rolls his eyes at the two and notices that Jun has also come out from the back to get a breather. Business was a bit slow today, but they did just open so there was no harm in being a bit laid back.

“Are you guys talking about the group of girls over there? We just opened and you’re already ogling at our customers, be more professional” Jun says nonchalantly.

“Well I need a girlfriend, the girls in my major aren’t all that so ogling at the bakery respectfully would seem better than asking out a girl who wouldn’t know how to interact with me” Jeonghan rolls his eyes and drags Jun back to the kitchen where he’ll be taking over for Mingyu, whilst Wonwoo takes his place at the front.

In the midst of this all happening, you notice the other boys by the counter and rip your eyes off Mingyu to focus on what Jihyo and Rosé are talking about.

“The food is so good here! I can’t believe they just opened, I want to gatekeep this place forever” Jihyo gushed. Rosé nodded in agreement and turned to you, to which you replied with a confused expression.

“Well, we are done. How about we head home so we have more time to relax? I’m sorry if I’m rushing, but I have a show to catch up on” Rosé blabbered. You laugh at her and nod as you all collect your things.

“See you tomorrow Jihyo! I’ll call you” You smile and wave as the three of you part ways, you and Rosé going home together since you were both roommates.

“Alright! Stay safe you two!” Jihyo then turned and walked towards her apartment, which was about two blocks from the bakery itself.

At home, as you’re studying on the living room floor, you notice Chungha sitting on the couch behind you. “I heard from Rosie that the pastry maker from the new bakery caught your eye” she joked.

You roll your eyes and shake your head at the accusation, is it not normal to ogle at people once in a while? And how did word travel so fast?

“Trust me, he’s just eye candy. It’s nothing personal” you sigh, whilst highlighting a sentence in your book. Chungha huffs and takes a sip from her mug, smirking at you.

“I doubt it, you’re such a nerd Y/n. You already work your ass off at school so why not live a little and date? Come on, this guy is probably just as studious as you are, considering he works at a bakery with his friends” she says matter-of-factly.

“So working at a bakery that he started with his friends makes him a nerd like me? I’m so impressed Chungha, you should’ve taken criminology, to be completely honest,” you reply sarcastically, which earned you a slap on the back of the head.

“Come on, if you’re going by tomorrow at least talk to him. I mean, what do you have to lose? You’re smart, pretty and you’re kind. Not to mention, wasn’t he also checking you out?” You felt your face grow hot, guess you weren’t that slick after all if Rosé noticed it too.

Before you could retaliate, the two of you heard the soft pattering of feet and a laugh coming from the hallway. It was Rosé, and it seemed like she’d overheard your conversation through the paper-thin walls of the apartment.

“Y/n! You should go see him! It’ll do you good I promise” she squealed. Chungha laughed and nodded along with her, it seemed like your roommates were some of the most insufferable people in the entire world.

“If I do it will you guys finally leave me alone?” You say weakly. The other two nodded eagerly with wide eyes and you mentally facepalm.

If a simple conversation was gonna get them off your tail, then so be it. It’ll be quick and it’s not like it’ll be a routine part of your day.

The next morning, you couldn’t be any more wrong. You woke up earlier than you should’ve for your first class of the day, and as you fixed yourself in the mirror, you thought about the baker and why you ended up just mentally thanking your friends for the challenge.

“Good morning Y/n, you seem chipper this morning” Rosé greets you from the kitchen. You smile shyly at her and look away, which gives off the impression that you maybe were anticipating the morning more than you thought, compared to the night before.

“Looking forward to talking to him now? Seems like a culinary major so maybe you’ll find him easier than you’d think” she continues.

“Yeah, yeah maybe I am a bit excited since he is cute. I bet he has a girlfriend though and I’ll prove you guys wrong, maybe his eyes just wandered” you laugh while Rosé only gives you a smirk and a scoff.

“When you start dating this guy, I bet you’ll thank us for setting you up like this. Studies can always come second, and who said you can’t multitask?” you bid your goodbye and race to the elevator of your apartment building, sighing from the intense teasing, but before the elevator doors could close, a voice had called over from the end of the hallway.

“Hey! Wait up!” You quickly press the open door button and lo and behold, there stood the exact baker you and Rosé were just talking about this morning, except he was in a chef outfit. ‘Maybe she was right’ you chuckle.

“Thanks for that— Wait, you were with your friends at the bakery yesterday” The tall male recognized you as you nodded back and gave him a friendly smile.

“I’m surprised you even remember me, but I’m even more shocked that you live in the same apartment building” you reply with a laugh. Mingyu scratches the back of his neck awkwardly and nods.

“You guys were one of our first customers, so it’s honestly hard to forget since it’s kind of special in a way” The elevator doors open and the two of you walk out, still engaged in a conversation.

“Oh before we do part ways, I’m Y/n! I had plans to head to the bakery later but it seems like your shift won’t start ‘till the afternoon it seems” you say cheekily.

“I’m Mingyu, it’s nice to meet you. Don’t worry, I only have one morning class before the others take over for the night, so you will be seeing me right after” Mingyu chuckles. Your face heats up so you immediately bid the male goodbye and walk over to your bus.

Microbiology was probably one of the worst classes to ever have in the morning, so a coffee fix for the rest of the day was just what you needed. You offer to buy your other friend Nayeon one too since you needed someone to go with you, just to lessen the effects of being around Mingyu at least.

“I’m starting to get sick of studying fungi and bacteria all day, can you believe every fucking surface we wipe a swab on has some form of disease” you grimace.

The bell of the bakery chimes and you already see a familiar head of brown hair behind the register. “Hi welcome to Carat Cravings! What can I get you guys today?” It was still fairly early in the morning, so you guessed that the ones working the morning hours mostly had evening classes just like you.

“One americano and one caramel machiatto, both iced. While we’ll get a breakfast platter please” Jeonghan punches in the order and you hand him your card, once again, to pay. At that exact moment, Mingyu had come out of the kitchen to greet you.

“Wait you know her?” Jeonghan suddenly asks. Mingyu nods and you greet him back shyly, you two had only just met by chance at the elevator of your apartment building.

“She lives in the same building, anyways Y/n this is Jeonghan. Since you’ll be coming here more often, I assume, then you should get to know us” he grins back at you. Jeonghan gave you both puzzled looks but you nodded in reply, a grin also plastered onto your face.

“Go ahead and find a seat then, your orders will be out in a few” You and Nayeon make your way to a window seat in the corner and take out a few of your notebooks just to go over what was discussed in your lecture.

You are writing down another important note on your iPad when you hear the clinking of glasses and see another blonde beside your table, you guessed this was the other guy named Jun.

“Here you are, let us know how you feel about the food before you go by the way! Also here’s something from Mingyu that he wanted me to give you” he handed you a note and you looked at him confused, then looked over at the counter where you noticed the man as he ran back into the kitchen.

Jun walks away as you open the note, your friend Nayeon is confused as as you are. “Oh—? It’s his uh number?” You say in a flustered manner. ‘Let’s get closer! Here’s my number since I’m too shy to give it to you :)’ it said.

“Aww! Y/n that’s so cute!” Nayeon squeals as you look away shyly to bring out your phone to type in his number. “Hey, he’s just being friendly don’t be like that!” You deny it, but Nayeon wouldn’t let up.

After that day, Mingyu had pretty much become a routine part of your life, except that one phone call after a few weeks of talking to each other.

“Y/n? I didn’t expect you today since you seemed so busy, how was class?” Mingyu chuckles from the other line. You smile at his words before replying, no matter how busy, Mingyu always manages to ask you about your day.

“Well it was pretty ok I guess, I’m just sad I couldn’t stop by the bakery today because it rained too” you reply sadly. You hear the line go silent and hear a few muffled jeers and laughs in the background. ‘Cute’ you thought.

“Don’t mind the guys. Since you called, I wanted to know if you were free this weekend? Jun’s taking over for me” Mingyu asks.

“I am actually! I don’t have anything planned right now. What do you have in mind?” You reply a little too enthusiastically. You hear another chuckle on the other line and cover your mouth in embarrassment.

“You’re so cute, let’s go to a café! I don’t want us to feel so lost since it’s our first time hanging out personally” Mingyu smiled on the other line before hearing Wonwoo gag from behind him. You blush at Mingyu’s comment and try to contain the urge to scream.

“Alright then, text me the time and I’ll put it into my schedule for the week. Bye, Mingyu! Good luck at work!” The other members all smirked at Mingyu and he bid you goodbye as well, this time with reddened ears.

The taller male then turns to his friends who go back to cleaning up before they close the bakery soon. “Yeah, it’s nothing. I just made a friend I swear, besides, she lives in our apartment building so it’ll be weird if I didn’t at least make acquaintances with her” he tries to convince them.

“Yeah right, I’d ask my cute neighbor out on a date if I were you too. Cut the bullshit Gyu, we know you like her” Wonwoo says while laughing.

Mingyu looks away, they definitely weren’t wrong and even though he did have dreams of becoming a top pastry chef one day, he also couldn’t risk not seeing you again.

“It’s always studies first, but I overheard she’s also one of the top students in her major. You bagged the beauty and brains Gyu!” Seungcheol exclaims.

Jeonghan looks at his friend in confusion as to how he even knew this information, but the older only chuckles in response.

“I got this information from Jihoon just so you know, he’s pretty close to her other friend Jihyo I think” Seungcheol concludes. Mingyu sighed and went to fix the pastry display, he was in for a rough week he supposed.

On your end, your two roommates had also overheard the conversation and squealed just as you ended the call. “He asked you out on a date?! Y/n that’s wonderful!” Rosé screams, immediately engulfing you in a bear hug.

“Guys it’s just a regular hang out between friends! He’s just our, cute, neighbor and baker you know” you stifle out. Chungha gives you a look of disapproval and flicks your forehead.

“Yeah, yeah. We all know you two are whipped for each other and it’s been two weeks since they opened up, you two will probably make it official before you even start the second date!” She huffs out. You frown, were you really in denial? You wouldn’t know for sure.

The date (if you could even call it that), came by faster than you could blink and now here you were, standing in front of the mirror, with your makeup done and in a pretty white dress with matching white ballet flats.

“Why do you look so dolled up? It’s a friendly date isn’t it” Rosé teases. You turn to her and see her leaning against the doorframe, a soft smile on her face.

“I just wanted to look presentable you know” you squeak out, knowing you were caught red-handed. It was autumn so you had to take your last chance to at least wear something pretty before layering everything.

“Anyways, tell me the details once you’re back! And take A LOT, and I mean a lot, of pictures with him ok? You two look cute together” Rosé runs away before you can reprimand her, and you suddenly hear your phone ping.

“Y/n! Someone’s at the door for you!” Chungha calls out lovingly. You stiffen, was it necessary for your roommate to act embarrassing at the most inconvenient time? You walk out of your room and make eye contact with Mingyu from the hallway.

Mingyu’s eyes widen at your form, the two of you were wearing matching outfits, both white and looking like you had dressed for the spring instead of the cold autumn weather.

“So?—“ Chungha was cut short as you sprinted and grabbed Mingyu’s hand, leading him down the hallway hurriedly with a laugh.

“I’m sorry, my roommates can be a handful sometimes. Now, where are we going?” You grin. Mingyu’s ears redden after realizing your hands were still intertwined, but you didn’t seem that bothered so he led you to his car that was parked in the basement.

“Are you planning to kill me?” You joke. Mingyu shakes his head and you laugh. “No, no! Just taking you to my car since the café is in the uptown part of the city. It’s a bit far but I guarantee you’ll like it” he replies in a flustered voice.

“Are you sure you’re not some murderer plotting my demise and you’re secretly taking me to your getaway house with your actual girlfriend” you blurt out. He looks at you in confusion and now it was his turn to laugh.

“I don’t think I’d be here then if I had a girlfriend, trust me, I’m more into my studies and passion than you think. So, consider yourself a special girl” Mingyu unintentionally flirts. You hit his shoulder out of habit, but he didn’t seem to mind either as he continued to laugh at you.

“Why’d you ask me out anyway? My other friends are way prettier and way more interesting than me, and don’t think I’m saying that out of pity, I’m just confused since I’ve always had my head buried in books as well” you admit shamefully.

“In all honesty, I just felt an instant connection with you, call it whatever but I’ve never felt like this with someone before” The street lights illuminate his face and you thank the gods above that he can’t see your flushed face in the dimness of the light.

“Oh, we’re here by the way. Let me park and don’t get out until I open the door for you” Mingyu parks the car at a spot in front of a very comfy but also expensive-looking café, before getting out of the driver’s seat to open your end.

You get out and thank him bashfully, the two of you heading inside. It didn’t seem too crowded for a weekend, which relieved you a bit since the ambiance was much more peaceful this way.

“Good afternoon! Welcome to Nabi’s, what can I get you two today?” The cashier smiles. You turn to Mingyu, and he looks at you with another grin, immediately ordering since you aren’t all that familiar with the place.

The cashier punches it in and Mingyu pays for everything, leaving you flustered for the umpteenth time that day. ‘What a gentleman, and he doesn’t have a girlfriend?’ You tell yourself.

“Your orders will be out shortly, you can take a seat and we’ll bring it right over. Have a good one, and here’s your change sir” Mingyu gladly takes his card and leads you to the second floor of the café.

Upon stepping into the seating area, you were immediately greeted with a beautiful view of the city. “Mingyu this is amazing!” You run over to the seat next to the window, and this causes Mingyu’s heart to race. How could you be so endearing even in the smallest aspect?

“It’s nothing, it’s a place I like to go to when I want to be alone, but I brought you here because it’s special to me” he admits while sitting down in front of you.

“Thank you honestly, I feel very special now that I’ve earned enough trust from Kim Mingyu to be able to go to one of his favorite places” You giggle, your stomach full of butterflies from how he treated you.

“Well, I did want to say this and I’m afraid it might be too early, but here it goes” You look at him curiously and stay quiet so you can listen to him better. You were always one to make anyone feel heard and comfortable.

“I like you Y/n, as if it isn’t obvious enough. The day I saw you with your friends at the bakery, something just stood out to me about you, and after getting to know you, it made you a hundred times more attractive to me. It might be a bit early but I wanted to let you know that I’d be willing to wait for you as long as you let me” Mingyu says wholeheartedly.

You were shocked, you liked Mingyu just as much as he did you, but his confession and sincerity were so out of the blue. Was this guy sure about not having a girlfriend?

“Mingyu, I don’t know what to say. I like you too! At first, I was pretty in denial about my feelings since I didn’t want to end up as a receptionist in scrubs and only really stuck to my studies, but you opened up my heart in a way. No need to wait, I’m willing to be your girlfriend” you confess as well.

You stare at Mingyu and notice his ears turn red while a huge smile starts to make its way onto his face. “You don’t understand how happy you make me Y/n, I won’t disappoint you” he holds your hand from across the table.

The rest of the day went by in a blur, Mingyu and you talking for hours on end about everything you missed out on during the first few weeks of getting to know each other, what you guys had in common, and even planning out the second date.

Mingyu and you walk through the basement of your apartment together as he takes you home for the night, dreamy smiles on both your faces and hands intertwined with each other’s. It felt magical almost that you’d even met this guy, he came straight out of a storybook.

“I had so much fun today, thank you Mingyu. I’m so happy,” you say in the elevator. Mingyu engulfs you in a hug and nuzzles his face against the crown of your head, you two did seem like a lovesick couple already.

“Thank you for today as well Y/n, I couldn’t have asked for anything better. Now let’s take you home so you can rest well, even if I don’t want to let you go just yet” he says cheekily.

The elevator dings and you realize that you are already on your floor. You start to feel sad but Mingyu still walks you over to your apartment down the hall, the two of you constantly exchanging glances as you get to your door slowly.

“Goodnight Mingyu! Thank you again, boyfriend, I’ll see you tomorrow at the bakery after class?” You quip. Mingyu nods and you kiss him on the cheek before typing in your door combination.

“Boyfriend huh? Goodnight then Y/n, sleep tight love. I don’t want to let you go just yet” he pouts. You laugh again and give him one last peck, this time on his lips, which causes his eyes to widen again.

“You’ll see me tomorrow! Now go rest up sleepyhead, you always work so hard” After you finish that sentence, you open the door and bid him one last goodbye before he walks away, and you walk into your apartment.

Once the door is closed, you hear the shrieks of your roommates and massage your temples. You were going to be in for it tonight, but at least you finally had the man of your dreams.

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ashtxrie · 7 months

Text

oh no... am i falling in love? (sunoo)

PAIR. high school!sunoo x gn!reader GENRE. fake dating au, high school au, best friends to lovers, fluff WORD COUNT. 2.2k WARNINGS. none! NOTES. first post kinda nervous!! <//3 i need a sunoo irl he is truly the greenest of green flags

you and sunoo are those friends

you’ve got that type of friendship where something clicked and suddenly you were both attached at the hip for years

because apparently having the same clear muji pencil case with the holy grail 0.5 black muji pen at the beginning of middle school meant best friends ride or die in seventh-grade culture

like, someone who prioritized aesthetics in notetaking as much as you did? even in the confines of this crusty campus? crazy.

but anyway, with you being absolutely intent on making friends, sunoo couldn’t get rid of you if he tried but pls he could never survive without you anyway... who else would he trust enough to exchange his top-tier notes with?

and since then you’ve both been best friends for life! well, ever since the +6 with the introduction of sunoo's other friends [read: the rest of enhypen...]

and at first you were super happy because new friends!

but then they kind of stopped hanging out with you in the middle of sophomore year or so and went off into their own little world

and you were a little sad

ok maybe a lot sad. devastated, even.

but that was okay because that meant you were able to meet new friends and expand your horizons! you even got the chance to focus on yourself and join some new clubs, too!

who even is sunoo anymore lmao you don’t know him

but anyway

it was junior year and you were so tired of your friends bugging you to get a s/o

“[name], why don’t you date someone?”

“you’d really hit it off with so and so, don’t you think?”

“just put yourself out there”

ರ_ರ

ayo... excuse me

so one day you just can’t take it anymore

and maybe you should’ve thought this through but... nope

you don’t pause to think things through

because life is for living in the moment hell yes yolo gang

“umm guys i’m already dating someone!”

needless to say your friends go INSANE

like who tf is [name] gatekeeping from us they’re so fake /j

so like any sane and mentally adept person, you say the first name that comes to mind

“hahaha … sunoo!”

your friends stare at you. flabbergasted, shocked, stunned beyond words.

blink blink

“but … weren’t you guys just friends”

“NO”

you’re panicking but

trust

“we’re in LOVE”

ur friends are really like ok whatever, but go off

and that is how you find yourself dragging yourself over to sunoo's fifth period and placing your hands on sunoo's shoulders

“promise me you won’t freak out”

and ofc sunoo is already freaking out

bc why are you standing in front of the ap lang classroom with this crazily determined face and forcing him to listen to you

and this is how you get into this situation

with sunoo having a literal double take and you doing your best "pls help me out i beg of you" impression

“i can’t DATE you”

what

you give sunoo your best professional face even though inside you’re ???

bc um is it that bad to date you??

you are confused???

you’ve saved sunoo thousands of times in his high school career in both academics and social standing he can afford to pretend to date you ONCE

“WHY NOT”

“BECAUSE”

...

is he being fr rn

obviously you’re not getting anywhere and you turn around to walk away, kind of annoyed

“fine then, i’ll just find someone else to date me.” shrug (dies inside).

as soon as you say that, it’s like you’ve flipped a switch and suddenly sunoo is very concerned and almost a little upset

and when you don’t notice him contemplating something, he runs in front of you and nearly knocks you over

“second thoughts?”

sunoo scowls

although it looks more like a lil pout pushing at his lips and he crosses his arms

lmao who is this and what’s happened to sunoo

you shrug and start to leave for real until sunoo reaches out to tug at your arm

“NO, NO WAIT … I’LL DO IT”

you whirl around immediately and you are needless to say, very relieved!

｡◕‿◕｡

“perfect!”

but apparently sunoo hasn’t recovered from his fall from before

bc he can’t stop rubbing his hand against his neck and his face is all blotchy and pink

kinda cute, but in a best friends way. like wowie my best friend looks kinda adorable look at that boy go

but ofc sunoo has to ruin the special moment because he offhandedly says, “shouldn’t we have rules or something?”

rules???

RULES???

this is fake dating sunoo wdyfm rules? that's so silly goofy

“huh?”

“like … things not to do? maybe one big rule is not ruining our friendship???”

ʘ‿ʘ

he kinda smart for that

“ok easy then, just don’t fall in love with me”

apparently this is the WRONG thing to say?

sunoo is RED like boy is not pink anymore his cheeks are burning red

“you can’t just say that?”

????

you are confused bc what does that even mean

“why not?”

“that’s like ... y-you you can’t just say that.”

you are, if possible, even more confused?

“okay and?”

sunoo blinks

pls this boy has the audacity to just shrug

WHAT DOES THAT MEAN

u are dumb af sunoo bout to throw hands here

but he won’t bc he loves u <3

so fifteen minutes later you guys decide to make three big rules

sunoo had a whole list of like twenty but you narrowed it down to these:

1. don’t ruin ur friendship

2. no kissing

3. and ur paying for three rounds of mint choco ice cream after this is over

honestly you think this is kinda rude considering sunoo is richer than ur entire life but whatever, at least he’s not leaving you out to the wolves

so when it’s finally time to put this fake dating thing to the test, you tug sunoo over to your side of the table during lunch and make sure to swing his hand

which actually feels kind of nice??

like you’ve never actually thought about this before

but sunoo is comforting

his hand fits right in yours, and he’s so warm

and i mean haha it’s not like this is a new thing, you two hold hands all the time!! but adjkaldjkfl not in a dating way

ur friends are shocked. bamboozled.

like they never thought you’d actually show up with a DATE

and bc they’re all RUDE they grill sunoo

but sunoo is best boy

best bf

and answers all their questions like a pro

that's my man

i mean what???

ur so proud

you let ur head rest against sunoo's shoulder and BITCH

sunoo presses a kiss to ur forehead

YO........................ insane.

why are u so happy? what is this??

it’s just so gentle and soft and you feel your heart getting all mushy and warm

your friends all give a big collective aww because one, they’re annoying af and yes y’all are cute cute and this is cute

but ur going through some existential crisis

and later when you’re walking with sunoo to all your classes, you can’t stop thinking that hey, this fakedating thing isn’t that bad

but whatever it’s just cause u miss spending time with sunoo!

yes, that’s it!

you’re just sad that sunoo always hangs out with his new group and you don’t get to see him as much

so this is nice!

you’re just going through some bff nostalgia rn... it's just gonna take some time for [name].exe to start working again

anyway now bc of this fakedating thing, you and sunoo just spend so much time together

like you guys have always been best friends, but this feels different

sunoo will run over to you when he sees you and wrap his arms around your waist

the first time he did it, he had the cuteness to go “is this okay? are you okay? is this too much?"

and YOUR HEART WENT !!!!!

you might’ve blushed

okay you did

but you convince yourself it’s just because ur touch starved and bitchless

c’mon... get it together

but whenever you call sunoo and wave at him, his face just LIGHTS up

and you’re pretty sure yours does too

(ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧ ✧ﾟ･: *ヽ(◕ヮ◕ヽ)

needless to say, you kinda don’t want this all to end

because somewhere in the middle of all this, your head has gone from calling sunoo your fake boyfriend to your real boyfriend

and you don’t really want to go back to just being friends if you’re honest

wait hold up

uh oh

UH OH CODE RED

INTERPOL INTERPOL.....

did you just admit you liked sunoo?? in a FOR REALS way?

UMMMMM

so like the only way you know how to deal with things, you avoid it!

you start to act really distant

and now whenever sunoo wraps his arms around you, you stiffen up

and sunoo like the angel he is pulls away so quickly bc ?? is his best friend upset? uncomfortable?

did HE make his best friend for life, his 4lifer, uncomfortable? omg this isn’t ok what is happening

everyone can tell something is up

ofc they can, what with you going to the extent of running away whenever you see sunoo and sunoo reacting like the entire light got blown out his life

and bffr sunoo may be innocent but he ISN'T dumb

he knows your schedule he KNOWS you’re ignoring him

and baby is upset

because lately you’ve been starting to feel a lot more to him

and now you’re just gone??

that’s not okay and sunoo isn’t just gonna sit around and be sad

if there’s something he can do he’s gonna do all he can to try to fix it!

he corners you one day and holds up an angry piece of paper

“excuse me but you broke rule number one which is, in case you forgot, don’t RUIN OUR FRIENDSHIP”

“oh haha uh sunoo! hi uhh i gotta go 👉👉 ”

sunoo's face falls

and that was it

you just wanna hold his cheeks and tell him things are fine and that you love him

wait WHAT

but sunoo is still staring at you with that wounded look

like you’ve just ripped up his heart and torn it to shreds

bc that’s kinda what you’re doing

omg what’ve you done

WHAT HAVE YOU DONE

“sunoo…”

his eyes lock onto yours so fast that you’re afraid he’s got whiplash

your mouth goes dry, and for a few moments it’s hard to talk

but you finally manage to tell him that “i don’t think we should fake date anymore.”

sunoo's face breaks

his eyes go wide, and it looks like he wants to stagger. and he almost does, just a little bit

“is it something i did?”

WHAT

this boy

kim sunoo is really gonna be the death of you

you’re shaking your head back and forth so fast because NO of course not of course this isn’t his fault

sunoo is Not Okay, and he looks so, so concerned for you. “because i swear i didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. if i screwed up just tell me and i can fix it, [name], please”

you shake ur head, already starting to panic. “of course not. it’s not YOU sunoo. i just can’t fake date you because--”

you clamp your hands over your mouth

“because?” sunoo prompts, his voice careful

you just shake your head, already starting to turn and run back to somewhere, anywhere because this is stupid and you’re scared

terrified, actually

but sunoo just takes your hand and tugs you backward a bit, almost like a scene from a movie

you do that little twirl back and are face to face with the one and only

“do you … do you like me?” sunoo asks

that’s it

it’s out

you’re ready for your entire friendship with sunoo to come crashing down

“do you?” he repeats softly

you try to pull away but sunoo isn’t having it

he’s still holding onto your hand, gently, of course, and his eyes are boring into yours

you’re too scared to look because you’re afraid of what you’ll find

but when you can’t take it anymore and finally tilt your head up you realize something important

because his eyes aren’t full of disgust

in fact, that’s further from the truth

kim sunoo is staring at you with the biggest heart eyes you’ve ever seen and you’re confused as to how you’ve never seen this sooner

it’s almost like you’re his whole world, and now you can’t fucking breathe

is this real? chat is this fr rn??

your heart’s pounding in your chest so fast and there’s something bursting at your lungs

you nod faintly. “yes. i like you”

the huge grin that spreads across sunoo's face is everything

he rushes forward to pull you into a gigantic hug, even lifting you up a little as he spins you around and lets out a little happy noise

“i’ve liked you forever, [name], i can’t believe this is real”

what

so u could’ve been dating sunoo before??

“you dork why didn’t you tell me?”

“because you didn’t like me like that!”

BITCH WHAT

“well maybe i was confused” you pipe back

sunoo just laughs, burying his head in your shoulder. “i’m so happy right now.”

and honestly ?

so are you !!

#enhypen #enhypen fluff #enhypen x reader #enhypen imagines #enhypen blurbs #enhypen fic #enhypen sunoo #kim sunoo #sunoo #sunoo x reader #sunoo imagines #sunoo fluff #sunoo fic #sunoo soft hours #ashtxrie #— ash writes!

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kelin-is-writing · 3 months

Text

Some of you… Guys… who lack empathy and overall emotional intelligence, kinda love to run your mouth waaaaaay too much and end up saying things that make 0 sense. This fandom is also waaaaay too comfortable with victim blaming Rei and Touya for everything that has happened to the Todorokis while Endeavor gets away with it, for no reason at all at that.

“OhHh BuT hE fElLs SoRrY fOr EvErYtHiNg He DiD”

I’m going to be completely honest with you all: I don’t give a flying fuck that he’s now swimming in his sorrows. He better be drowning in them actually. Because there’s a consequence to everything we do. ALWAYS. Besides, if he was going to feel ohh so sorry about what he did to his family, then he simply shouldn’t have done none of it to begin with.

He can’t go on fill his child like a balloon the way he did and then expect said balloon to not explode after he had blew way too much air into it. That’s egotistical.

You also can’t buy your wife (who was still a minor at the time), have her pop out kids like she’s some kind of kids machine for your greedy needs and even force two of them on her before you go ahead and start physically and mentally abusing her, then expect for there to not be any repercussions on your family’s relationships.

Blaming a kid who got his whole life and being manipulated and then gaslighted by his own father, who remembered he indeed had an eldest son only when it was too late, and a woman who was sold to a greedy, egotistical, egocentric, narcissistic and selfish man when she was a kid who had one option worse than the other (We all know that the Himuras ain’t any more sane than Endeavor) is so weird guys, please.

Touya was treated like a human weapon by his own father, who as soon as he saw no more use in him and his quirk just casted the kid aside (which was before Natsuo was even conceived btw). So where’s the favoritism in this? Where? Because I can’t see it anywhere, no matter how hard I look for it. And why is that? Because there’s none. So you lot can stop being delusional about this topic, ‘cause it doesn’t stand up not even if you force it. You can’t erase the manipulation (into making him think he could become the #1 Hero, surpass All Might for his father and be the strongest) and then the gaslighting (telling him he can’t do any of that anymore since his quirk won’t permit it, telling Touya he should give up on his dream because it will never happen after Endeavor ingrained all that into his mind) just like that, then call all of this favoritism. Do you all even know what favoritism is? Or you just find out words on the Internet, ignore completely their meaning, and run with them blindly? Because I am bewildered by how some of you guys be coming on here to just say anything… Touya got failed by his parents and his siblings, because he was ignored and neglected by his siblings as much as he was by his parents (Shoto excluded because Endeavor was busy grooming him this time around) but none of you guys even call them out on Touya going through all of that alone, for some reason, while being okay with what Natsuo and Fuyumi told him as soon as they got into the battlefield. Like they ain’t bad siblings too and Endeavor wasn’t the reason they all lost each others as a family, literally do not piss me off I beg. I’m firmly convinced some of you guys pick and choose who you defend in the Todofam, but like… Everything you guys say makes no sense? It just shows me that some of you lack, as I said at the very beginning of the post, empathy and emotional intelligence. Which is sad.

You all can say “We’ve all gone through hard times alone” as much as you want, but that is not normal at all, towards any time of relationship but especially towards family. It’s not healthy and it can hurt a person a lot, making them close in themselves and when it starts to hurt from the inside the moment you stop getting all of the pent up stress inside it’s no good at all. And for the record, Touya (or just anyone) venting or opening himself to Natsuo about what he’s going through it’s not trauma dumping. It’s never trauma dumping if you genuinely care for someone (clarifying this before any of you emotional ignorant peoples come at me about this 🫠). So Natsuo and Fuyumi being in all of this too shouldn’t be used as an excuse for pushing their brother’s concerns and feelings under the rug, families are supposed to go through these type of situations as a family if they want to keep living happily as such, but they remembered this after one of them died and their youngest sibling was being still raised as a fighting machine by their abusive father. So, mind you, but they all (except Shoto) owe Touya some big ass apologies written down on a letter with tears if I gotta be honest.

As for Rei; she became a mother young, went through a lot all alone because mind you Mr. Husband was waaaaay too busy trying to groom their son into a Hero machine that could beat someone he is incapable of beating (Because a nullity will always be a nullity after all, even when becoming a #1 after the former #1 retirement, if they insist on projecting ofc) to help and guide his young and inexperienced wife through a wedding like theirs. How was she supposed to not lose her mind after being sold, neglected, beaten up, verbally abused, forced to pop out kids like a gachapon, seeing her fourteen years old son lose himself into the void because of his father and then he dies too, without never getting love nor affection from his father (the one he looked up to) the way a kid wants, needs and is supposed to get which is something I’m 100% sure led her to depression. You all diminish too much the grief a mother feels when she loses her kids. There’s much a mother, a human, can handle; and for Rei it got to a point where every trace of Endeavor disgusted her so much her whole body rejected his entire existence leading her to a mental breakdown. One that was due to come earlier if we think about it, but she was strong enough for her remaining kids until she couldn’t do it anymore. What she did to Shoto is wrong, I know and I acknowledge, but she’s a traumatized person who sees her abuser everywhere she goes because, unfortunately, it’s the person she was forced to marry. She apologized to Shoto right away, because she was still mature and sane enough to recognize her mistake right when it happened.

But Endeavor’s ego is so big that it took him his eldest son nearly blowing everyone up and becoming a walking torch before he finally apologized to the whole family for his wrong doings of 10 years prior. Which is crazy to me.

So I’m gonna need you all to stop erase Endeavor’s wrongdoings and try to gaslight the whole fandom into blaming Rei and Touya for the mistakes of someone else, because they’re the biggest victims in all of this shit.

That being said, hope y’all get well soon 🫶🏻💜

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lovelyyandereaddictionpoint · 9 months

Note

Hi! I really like your writing, and I was wondering if I could request a Yandere!Platonic 1st Years (+Grim) with an Eri!Reader?

How would they feel learning of her abused, trauma, and her unfamiliarity with general society and social norms? (Who’s looking murderous when they see just the scars littered around her arms and legs when her bandages are removed?)

Though it’s a whole different story when she says she sees her power as nothing but a ‘curse’, and her existence a ‘burden’ that only makes others suffer? All because of the man named ‘Overhaul’, the one who did this so her? (Who’s about to go feral when she admits she doesn’t remember how to smile?)

But she starts to become more positive thanks to Grim and slowly the others (She likes Grim and is very sparkly eyed because he talks, breaths fire and thinks he’s amazing)

Imagine when she says she made a friend all on her very own who’s ‘like her’, though they lightly chastise her that she shouldn’t talk with strangers (It’s Malleus, they’re both lonely, have horns she has 1, while Malleus has 2, have an incredible power that’s very dangerous, and they’re unfamiliar/slow with society)

Eri Reader | Yandere Twisted Wonderland

You’ve been through so much….so you’ve been told. The pain, the heartbreak, the constant voice in your head that has guilt weighing on your little heart. Your transportation to Twisted Wonderland couldn’t come at a better time. They’re going to welcome you cage you to this new world more than willing to spoil you to your hearts content:

Grim

“Oi oi servant they all think we’re monsters!”

“...yeah?”

“Yeah! So we gotta show them we’re gonna be the greatest mages in here!”

“Oh….okay!”

He’s the perfect chaotic companion

He teaches you to allow yourself to do what you want

Granted his guidance isn’t all knowing

No matter how tasty Heartslabyul’s tarts are you shouldn’t eat them everytime you visit — especially without permission

Either way you’re learning to forgive yourself and allow you to have fun

And leave it to Grim to say whatever snarky thing you’d like to say when your big-brothers get in the way

“Nyeh! You won’t be able to do anything against my flames, nyah!”

Ace Trappola

“Hey if I catch you moping about that plague doctor guy, I’ll sock ya in the head!”

“Ace?!”

“I-i-i won’t!”

In a weird way you’re so used to being bullied (by kai) that you tend to take his bully-affection to heart

You know he cares, he just won’t tell you often

He reminds you of a certain blonde…

It also makes you more privy to his very willing desire to steamroll over anyone he deems a problem for you

“I think he meant that as a joke, Ace…”

“Joke schmoke, I warned you, you stain! I’m putting you in the medical wing.”

“Ace, please!”

Deuce Spade

“(Y/n), did you eat today? Are you feeling well? Do you need me to carry you!”

Mother hen of the group

He’s hovering close behind even when you don’t see him

Always making sure you’re safe and happy as can be

He’s teeming with anxiety if he’s not watching you himself

Even worse if you get hurt accidentally or on purpose

Now he’s Mama bear totally bearing the claws to protect you

He’s not going to leave you to defend yourself

Especially when your abilities hinge on your mental state

He’s trying his best

“Are you doing the breathing techniques Crewel recommended? Where’s your paper bag?”

Jack Howl

“Hello little one.”

“Hi.”

“Would you…like to sit on my shoulders?”

“Yes!”

Your #1 guard dog

Doesn’t have to worry considering Deuce is freaking out for him

He’ll be the sane voice of reason because Ace isn’t anywhere close to reliable in his eyes

Naturally he entrances you with his tail and overall dog-like personality

But don’t forget he’s got the bite force of a wolf that he’s not afraid to use if he deems fit

“Pup, don’t stop yourself from having fun or being…young. I–we will keep you safe.”

Epel Felmier

“You’re so pretty.”

“...Thanks.”

You’re the only one who can get away with calling him that

And he loves nothing more than escaping Vil to find out what other sweet makes you smile sweetly

He’s also one of the first to join Ace as part of the self-proclaimed protection committee

He’s also one of the first to suggest taking it further than a mere beatdown

Anything for his new little sibling

“If there’s no body…there’ll be no problems.”

Sebek Zigvolt

“TINY HORNED HUMAN! WHERE IS YOUR DIASOMNIA PIN!”

“Uhm…Ace took it from me…said it was unfair.”

“THAT FOOL. COME CHILD I SHALL BESTOW UPON YOU THE PIN AGAIN.”

Is definitely apart of a brainwash committee of his own and is insistent you become Diasomnia’s new mascot…under Malleus of course

His loudness sometimes scares you off but he means well

And will no doubt join the others if a few heads need to roll

“Rest easy, child. On my watch, no one will harm you.”

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thenightshadowqueen · 1 month

Text

SFTH moments that live rent-free in my head (in no particular order)

Xavier (obviously)

Luke laughing on the sidelines

Sam’s smirk in the Evil Make-A-Wish Kid (you know the one)

“But Luke, why do you have to go to the Shoot From the Hip disciplinary meeting? What did you do?” (“I told Sam to shove his finger up my asshole.”)

“Oh, Mr. President!” *cartwheel*

The entirety of the thirsty vampires sketch (but especially Sam because oh my fucking god SAM) (and also the slap from Luke but I feel like maybe that says something about me)

“What a twist!”

The way Sam drops to his knees to ‘give a blowjob’ in that one game of Genre (I know you know the one)

From that same game: “Me, a man, a ruler of the States. You, a creature who came from outer space.”

“Too fucking right, darling”

“I saw it on my firemegram!”

“Oh, I could never; that’s a family trait”

Sam’s moan as he ‘dies’ in BUS (this entire play was so fucking unhinged??)

“WHO’S YOUR DAD?”

Tom and Sam entering the astral plane

“No! No! No! Bad Luke!” (“What?”)

Tom and Luke climbing through the fold-up chair

“I made you a cocktail. This one’s called… be careful.” (This is a classic.)

Bubba and Jeremiah

“I’m clearly perfectly sane”

Derek and Titch

“Just a random guy, open up!”

Andre Beetroot (and Luke as his tutu-wearing companion)

“There’s something I want you to have.” “Okay, bye!”

AJ’s gorgeous singing (“ohhhhhh, Somerset”)

Tom being picky about Sam’s grammar, and Sam picking on Tom’s stagecraft (“It was a two-way door!”)

“What don’t you understand about this?” “Several things.”

“I wish more kids were dying of… NOPE!”

Sam’s “no, fuck off” after someone suggested 9/11 (and Luke doing the hand motion)

AJ asking what a marigold is

Sam having a fucking breakdown at the end of the Lighthouse

Moriarty-Sherlock mental fuck chess

“Let me just close up the clown factory.” “The what?”

When AJ slaps Sam on Luke’s instruction (“That was real.” “That was kind of hot.”)

#apparently I have more than I thought I did #so this might be part one #we’ll see #sfth #shoot from the hip #sfth sam #sfth luke #sfth tom #sfth aj

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gunthermunch · 6 months

Text

[Transcript under the cut]

Elsa: I’m sorry

Max: about what?

Elsa: I was too rough. I keep forgetting I stopped babysitting you years ago.

Elsa: you don’t need to date anyone if that’s not what you want to do

Max: I’m not hurt, you could never hurt me

Max: we are pretty much head to head on the asshole scale

Max: and I’m gonna talk to him eventually, don’t worry about it.

Max: because I know so damn well you’re worried as hell about Lucas.

Elsa: I didn’t even like the idea of him moving all alone on top of a hill to begin with! He’s not fucking Heidi!

Max: …

Elsa: …Ah-

Max: he is kinda Heidi

Elsa: ugh. I know.

Elsa: hey, are you still on therapy?

Max: … do I look like I’m not?

Elsa: answer the question idiot

Max: yeah. I am.

Max: she claims I’m doing a good job but, it could be some ‘’hang in there’’ motivational poster thing she says to all her patients

Elsa: well, I think you’ve gotten much better

Max: it’s Prozac.

Elsa: oh

Max: and my mood stabilizer. Drugs are really nice Elsa

Elsa: did you talk to her about Lucas?

Max: it’s like she knows him herself.

Max: …does he even like me anymore?

Elsa: Pierce says he ‘’clearly does’’

Max: alright but, no one asked him.

Elsa: I talk to him pretty much every day, you’re his favorite guy. He’s just too busy with his cows and crops to come visit. Do you think he smells like fertilizer?

Max: absolutely yeah

Max: …he’s my favorite guy too. Even though I feel like I need to explode him with my mind sometimes.

Elsa: I wish I could get inside your mind and rummage around so badly

Elsa: they’re so cute together.

Max: yeah, Pierce is kinda-

Max: -smart.

Elsa: stop that

Max: hey, it’s a joke. Still gonna do my men free week. I need to be mentally clear and sane for those dates

Elsa: we can hang out, I’m minoring in men free.

#i missed them so much uuuuhghghhhhhh #ts4 #ts4 story #elsa bjergsen #max villareal #billie jang #pierce delgato #tw drug mention #just in case #munch

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the-witty-pen-name · 6 months

Text

Love is Blind (Part 3)

Eddie Munson x PlusSize!F!Reader

Summary: In a last ditch effort to evade the normal disappointments of dating, a group of misfits desperate to have someone see who they are on the inside volunteer for the most recent brain chemistry study at Hawkins Lab.

Word Count: 2.9k

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, smut in later parts (part 4), reader has low self-esteem and struggles with self love/acceptance, anxiety/trauma related to bullying, tooth rot worthy fluff, Eddie being a major flirt, cursing, mentions of substance use, descriptions of bullying & people being jerks but like also very overdone tropes, mentions of smut

A/N: Please let me know if you liked it!! Feel free to send me an ask if you want to fangirl with me over these two because I cannot stand them at this point. LOL Or if you want to share any ideas/predictions for upcoming parts with me or other ideas for future stories with Eddie, I would love to hear them. Also, if I forgot to include a warning that should be included, please let me know!

Series Masterlist

“Eddie.”

“Hey, Eddie.”

“Earth to Eddie.”

“EDDIE.”

“Shit! Sorry,” he says, breaking out of his thoughts and coming back to reality. He stares at his notes in his DM folder and he literally has no idea where the campaign has left off. He clears his throat and awkwardly flips through the pages. “Umm..”

“We just made it to the fishing town and we were tasked by a local merchant to kill a sea serpent that’s poisoning the local fish in exchange for..”

“Oh yeah,” he interjects, grabbing the correct script he needs to continue. “Uh, did you roll..?”

“Are you kidding me, man! What the hell?” Gareth exclaims, exasperated. “What’s wrong with you today?”

Eddie’s face turns pink, shaking his head and ignoring the question. He was not going to admit to being distracted. He’s not embarrassed to talk to the guys about you, but he hasn’t told anyone he signed up for the study. He didn’t want to admit he was desperate or lonely, he’s too proud. He knows his friends don’t care, but it’s a mental block he can’t pass.

“Nothing, I’m good. Just let it go,” he says defensively.

“No way. Fucking spill it,” Jeff laughs.

Eddie racks his mind for the most sane way to answer their questions. He sighs, pushing a mess of his curly hair out of his face.

“Who is she?” Gareth asks, raising an eyebrow.

***

DAY FOUR

“I’m mad at you,” Eddie says, and you roll your eyes.

“What did I do now?” You ask, playful sarcasm evident in your voice.

“You’re throwing me off my game”

“I don’t even know what you mean by that.”

“Obviously because I’m really cool and popular,” he jokes, “I’m a Dungeon Master as you know.”

“Yup, I’m familiar,” you toy.

“My friends called my ass out so many times last night for not paying attention and I kept fucking up.”

“I don’t appreciate you pinning this on me,” you chuckle. “I didn’t do anything.”

“Lies!” He says in a bravado. “You are the distraction! You have managed to weasel your way into every aspect of mind- I hope you’re proud of yourself. I’m probably going to be dethroned. My reign is over.”

You bite your bottom lip, to hold back the goofy smile you know is creeping over your whole face. Never before has anyone made you feel like this. The notebook to keep track of other “dates” is long forgotten. You only want to continue talking to Eddie. You wonder if any of the other people you spoke to felt a connection this strong. You’re dying to know if there are other people who feel as good as you right now.

“What were you thinking about?” you ask shyly. You can hear the way it makes Eddie stop in his tracks. You assume he wears some sort of chain on his pants cause you can hear it when he paces, but suddenly, his end of the wall falls silent.

“How honest do you want me to be?” he asks, suddenly sounding shy.

“What do you mean by that?”

“Well, I could go the cheesy, romantic, ‘I was thinking about you’ way- which is true. Or, I could be brutally honest because ‘I was thinking about you’ in this context has much more implications than that.”

“You’re confusing me,” you laugh, “just tell me.”

“Do you ever fantasize about when we get out of here? In like, a you know-”

“Like sexually?” you ask, throwing him a bone. He was drowning.

“Yeah,” he admits, and you can hear the chain on his pant leg as he fidgets.

“Yes,” you answer honestly, “I do.”

“I think about it all the time,” he says, the confession spilling out, “The fact that I can’t touch you is driving me fucking insane. It’s not even like just like the thought of getting to fuck you- it’s like being close to you and like feeling your body heat, or like the weight of you sitting on my lap, what it feels like to just touch your skin- just everything that we’re being denied. I don’t even have a visual in my head to go off of it’s just like- I don’t know, man…”

You wince at the mention of sitting on his lap. “I don’t know if you’d want me on your lap for a long time..,” you sound defeated.

“Um, don’t speak for me,” he cuts you off, playfully. “Any man who doesn’t want the full weight of his woman on his lap is a fucking idiot. Ugh, I don’t even think you understand just how amazing it is. I don’t care if you try to fight me on this, princess. You’re sitting on me, and I will love every second of it.”

“I’m not thin, Eddie,” you whisper, feeling defeated. You hear him blow a raspberry and then he knocks on the wall.

“I… don’t… care,” he emphasizes by drawing out each word. “You need to believe me. I couldn’t care less about your weight, your height, your hair… whatever it is. I like you! And that means I like every part of you.”

His voice begins to raise, like he is yelling up, “If these fuckers would realize we’re done already and let me out.” He then lowers his voice like he’s looking back to the wall. “I want you. The experiment fucking works, I wish I could show you what you do to me cause maybe then it’ll finally stick. I’m going out of my mind that I can’t touch you and show you how much I want you, your body, everything. Do you need me to spell it out?”

“Would you have still found me attractive if we met outside of this experiment?” you ask, “I bet you wouldn’t have even looked my way if you saw me at a bar or something.”

“Sweetheart,” he coaxes, “absolutely. I know that I would’ve been annoying the shit out of you for your number. You’d have been the one to reject me, I guarantee it.”

“I would have never,” you reply.

“So if it’s possible for you to know that you wouldn't have rejected me without seeing me,” Eddie muses, “why can’t you believe the same for me?”

“You haven’t asked me a single thing about my appearance,” he continues, “Do you care how much I weigh? Do you care if I’m short?”

“Not at all. I haven’t thought about it,” you admit.

“I haven’t either. Now, please let me have my fantasy of you sitting on my lap please,” he whines, “I need something to get me through the day, Christ.” You laugh at his fake annoyance.

You’re so happy at how he’s able to talk you down. It amazes you how he’s able to see through the insecurities and brings you back down to Earth.

“Okay, okay,” you say, settling back into the couch and getting comfortable. You rest your head back.

“I don’t know, basically, we’re in the middle of the campaign- I literally spent weeks writing it,” he continues, “and I literally just can’t stop thinking about how amazing it would be if you were there. I’m just sitting there, thinking about what it would feel like to just have you sitting on my lap while we’re playing and then I’m thinking about how I want to feel lean back on me and I’d have my arm around your waist holding you, and maybe I’d rub little circles on the side of your thigh and I thought about how soft you probably feel and then suddenly I’m sporting the most embarrassing boner which thankfully no one saw- Fuck, this is what you’re doing to me.”

***

“Is there any way to end the trial early?” Eddie asks, sitting in the interview room. There’s a man putting a pulse oximeter on his right index finger and another testing his blood pressure with a monitor on his left side.

Two other technicians sit across from Eddie, taking notes from Eddie’s answers on a clipboard. They have tested his levels of dopamine and norepinephrine. They’re taking extensive notes on Eddie’s physical reactions to you, and the same is done to all of the candidates- including you. They continue to ignore Eddie’s questions as they ramble on about his levels of oxytocin.

“In order for us to gather all of the information necessary, this isn’t possible,” one of them finally answers.

“But I’m telling you how I feel- I’m telling you it works,” he insists.

“Mr. Muson,” one says, closing a file folder that contains his charts. “This is a study in brain chemistry. You agreed to participate for the designated number of days and in exchange you’d receive compensation. Your conversations between yourself and the other candidates is not our business, nor what you choose to do afterwards. Our job here is to collect data, not the details of your personal life.”

“I can’t believe this,” he scoffs, rolling his eyes. He pulls off the oximeter and grabs his jean jacket. He walks out, despite their protests, flipping them off as he goes. He couldn’t care less about the lousy $200. As far as he was concerned, they poked and prodded the two of you enough.

Of course, he did show up the next day. Promptly with a big grin on his face, he walked in with a happy go-lucky attitude that the entire lab team was secretly sick of dealing with. These sudden outbursts and dramatic tirades were becoming a staple of Eddie’s interviews and they equally couldn’t wait to be done with him.

***

DAY FIVE

“Are these dice?” You ask with a chuckle, opening the small, black velvet bag that’s been left for you on the table in the room. You empty the bag out into your hand and watch as the dice roll into your palm one at a time. They’re all red and shimmer as you move them around in your cupped hand.

“Well, I wanted you to have them,” you hear his voice explain from the other side of the wall. You’re beaming as you carefully pour them back into the bag and tie it off.

“This is so sweet, Eds,” you marvel. “I love them.”

“I also brought my guitar and like in a non-douchebag way I was kind of hoping to play something for you,” he says, his guitar perched on his lap. “I’ve just been working on this song and I wanted your opinion on it.”

It's surprisingly soft sounding. You were expecting heavy guitar, something really metal based on what Eddie has told you about his music taste and his band. It’s slower paced, like a dreamy, slow rock ballad.

You wished you could see him, observe how he looks when he’s concentrating or how his fingers look strumming against the cords. You just know he has the most beautiful hands. You imagine his fingers and try to visualize them flexing as he strums. You’re so distracted by it that you almost miss him singing a verse.

“It’s not done yet,” he prefaces, still strumming. “I’m still working on the lyrics so don’t think too much about them, just like the meaning and the melody you know?”

“Yeah totally,” you hum in agreement. “I think it sounds great.” He smiles at the praise.

***

Before

You anxiously sit by the front window, peeking out between the blinds occasionally. You smooth out the skirt of the new dress your mom bought you, and you make sure your hair is still how you requested. Your mom let you wear makeup and you picked eyeshadow that matches your dress and you feel like a million bucks. It’s your ninth grade formal, and the star of the JV basketball team asked you to be his date.

The minutes tick by and the time changes from reasonably late to stood up. You still hold out hope, and reject your parents' offers to just drive you to the dance. It’s been 45 minutes now, and you still hoped he’d be there. It was long past an hour that you admitted that he wasn’t coming.

The following Monday you learned the whole thing was a prank, and he never wanted to ask you to the dance. It’s in the school paper that he’s at the dance, dancing cheek to cheek with one of the cheerleaders, who you can’t help but compare yourself to.

***

Eddie is sitting at the middle school cafeteria table alone. He’s about a hundred pages into the Hobbit and the crusts of his peanut butter sandwich are forgotten about on the crinkly brown paper bag Uncle Wayne packed his lunch in. He’s long forgotten he’s sitting alone, far too engrossed in the story to care, when suddenly his head is yanked back by someone tugging on his t-shirt.

“What’s up, Freak?” the voice asks before shoving Eddie back towards the table. He catches himself on the edge before his head comes in contact with the surface. He winces as anger boils up inside him. The three jocks laugh amongst themselves until a familiar voice shoos them away.

“Sorry about them,” she says apologetically as Eddie looks to see her. Chrissy. He notices how she glances from him to the cafeteria table where the cheerleaders sit, and Eddie knows she doesn’t want to be seen with him for too long.

“You can go, I’m fine,” Eddie says, forcing a laugh to make her feel better. “But, uh, I wanted to ask you-”

“Okay, thanks,” she says, cutting him off and practically skipping to sit next to the prick who shoved him. Eddie recoils as the jock’s arm wraps around her. Eddie rolls his eyes and gets up to have lunch outside. Along with the remains of his lunch, he shoves the necklace he meant to give her in the bin. He’d stayed up past his bedtime, Wayne showing him how to drill a small hole into the top of one of his guitar picks to put a metal jewelry loop through so it could be put on a silver chain.

***

You’re sitting at the table in the dimly lit restaurant and sipping on your cocktail when you see him walk in. He matches the description your friend gave you, and you feel yourself smile at how cute he is- definitely living up to the hype. Your friend spent weeks convincing you to go out on this date- one of her boyfriend’s best friends. They’re in the same fraternity.

You can see as he walks into the dining room, he’s looking around trying to find his date. You offer a smile when he makes eye contact, and you offer a small wave.

“James?” You ask, “you’re exactly like how Donna described you.” He offers a polite closed lipped smile, and a nod, taking a seat across from you without saying anything.

As the date continues, you notice you’re doing a lot of the talking. You ask him questions and you’re met with a lot of one word answers. He looks detached, checking his watch and his attention seems to be wandering throughout the restaurant at anything but you. By the time your entrees arrive, he yawns.

“I’m sorry, did I do something or say something?” you ask, hesitantly.

“No, no you’re good,” he says, straightening his posture like it would correct the behavior he’s been exhibiting.

He pays for dinner, and you ask if he’d like to do this again sometime (just to be polite, you knew it was going nowhere). He sucks in air from between his teeth, and lets out an exhale.

“You’re a nice person,” he says, putting his hands in his pockets as he waits for the valet to bring his car. “I’m sorry, but you aren’t really my type. Tom didn’t tell me anything about you really. I just felt like we didn’t click.” You notice the way his eyes scan your body, the unspoken awkwardness of you knowing what he isn’t saying. You nod, and say strained goodbyes as he gets in his car. You wished you were more surprised.

***

Eddie is met with dirty looks when he approaches a girl at the bar. He feels her eyes on his tattoos and on his clothes, judging him. He sees her friend, who's also looking at him, lean in and whisper something and they both laugh. He knows the joke is on him, yet again.

He opts to hang where he is, leaning against one of the high top tables, when he watches another guy approach her. He’s muscular, of course he is, and Eddie looks down at his own torso in comparison as this guy’s abs strain his shirt. Eddie scoffs, but now feels incredibly insecure at how his own shirt hangs loosely on his figure.

***

DAY SIX

“Are you still worried about tomorrow?” Eddie asks, playing haphazardly with his rings as he sits with his forearms rested on his thighs.

“A little,” you admit sheepishly. “Are you?”

“More excited than nervous,” he replies honestly. “This whole thing has been fucking wild,” he chuckles, shaking his head.

“Insane,” you agree, laying on the couch, staring up at the ceiling.

“I just wanted to ask, no pressure,” Eddie says, clearing his throat, “Uh the other day, when we talked about, you know- what’s gonna happen when we see each other…”

“Yes?”

“You said to not hold back, I don’t remember exactly what it was but along the lines of ‘I don’t want you to hold back. Just whatever feels right to you in that moment, do it. Kiss me, touch me, I’m down for everything.’ Or something. I just want to make sure…”

“You don’t remember exactly, huh?” you tease.

“Is that still what you want?” he asks earnestly.

“Without a doubt,” you smile.

PART 4

TAGLIST

@woahnotmecryingoverafanfiction @ali-r3n @cherrycolas-things @hellfirebabe666 @trixyvixx @stardancerluv @i--wont-run-this-time @mewchiili @muamazon4 @1975lily @sadbitchfangirl @strangerthings36 @fanficfanatic000 @andrearose89 @sosawwycantrelate @animechick555

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solecize · 7 months

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ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐄 | 𝐣𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐤𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: every summer on your grandpa's farm was real-life magic to your younger self, who left a piece of her heart in amber valley when the years went on and the town became nothing but a faint childhood memory. soon enough, you become rocked by his death and realize the dead end in your bustling city world. this leads to you making an abrupt decision.

despite knowing nothing but designer purses and the corporate ladder, you uproot your entire life to take over your grandfather's old farm in the town you were desperately trying to remember - alongside a familiar face from your youth that permanently finds his way into your heart.

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: jungkook/reader 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒. inspired heavily by stardew valley, friends to lovers, childhood friends, cowboy jungkook, small town alternate universe, slice of life, grief, growing up, mutual pining 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓. 4.6k 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒. warnings for more mentions of death and jungkook being an idiot

part five: the phone call, the apology and the confession ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ previous. next. masterlist

xii. the phone call

being on the farm made you feel like a kid again - that was a given. when you were young, you often made your chores into games, to see how fast you could feed the chickens or tend to crops. however, being the sole individual responsible for upkeep and for the way the farm was now your source of income, it was evidently no longer a fun little game when barbies got boring. while you were in charge of your own schedule, you eventually hit the point where you felt like all of your energy was gone everyday. one of the only things that was keeping you sane was your friends.

on the other hand, jungkook was having the exact opposite effect - driving you insane. for more than one reason.

the email blast for movie night was originally forwarded to you by taehyung and you did accept, which you ultimately regretted come the night of. you usually didn’t partake in much during the week, as you reserved your social battery for the saloon on the weekends, but you didn’t see any issue upon receiving the invitation.

“do you want me to make you a coffee?” jungkook offered, as he stood across from you on the opposite end of taehyung’s kitchen island.

it was the usual cluster of people gathered in taehyung’s charming bungalow, close to the river. you’d never been in a group of friends that were so adamant to their dedication of spending time together and not using work or school as an excuse to shut themselves in. most of the boys had brought food or drinks without any prior arrangement or communication, resulting in an abundance to share.

you were glad you thought of picking up a bottle of wine beforehand and wasn’t the odd one out, but with your fatigue, you knew you weren’t going to be able to enjoy it yourself. it was the day for cleaning pens and sorting waste, so you’d been outside all day and smelled exactly like your chores. even though you took a lengthy shower and mentally prepared for movie night, you were exhausted beyond measure.

you shook your head. “i’m okay, thank you. i have to get up at five tomorrow.”

from behind you, seokjin emerged from the living room and despite the current movie only halfway through - it was apparently jungkook’s pick, captain america: the first avenger - it looked like he was ready to leave. leftovers in hand, he brought jungkook in for a quick side hug and then did the same for you.

“bye guys! sorry i have to leave early. y/n, i’ll come by tomorrow after work for the eggs?” seokjin beamed, leaning on the door frame and you noticed a handful of pink carnations in his grasp.

you gave him a thumbs up. slowly, but surely, the tides were turning for the farm and making profit. you didn’t lack confidence that you would be able to make money for yourself, but you were unsure of how long it would take for your income sources to be stabilized. building a customer base off of the farm’s longstanding customers was easier than expected, but you had to work on improving efficiency and diversification of your products. at the end of the day, though, you were just one person and you were doing well.

this is what you continued to attempt to explain to your parents. shortly after seokjin’s departure, before you could join the rest of your friends and finish the movie, you received a call from your father and you excused yourself to taehyung’s backyard.

your mother was the type to be overbearing and overprotective, while your father had a knack for criticizing you and making you question yourself. since moving, you seldom provided business updates to your father, which likely led to this phone call in the first place.

“you’ve thought about how you’ll need to make further investments, right?” his voice was dry and it made your blood boil.

breathing in deeply, you simply replied, “yes.”

“okay, have you been managing your time well? the physical demands of the job?”

it was as if your dad kept rattling off a list of reasons why you were incompetent for your role and you didn’t notice until now, but you had dug half-crescent moons into the palm of your hand. no matter how many times you said yes or that you had it covered, he continued going.

by the time you finally escaped the phone call, you already began thoughts of doubt and wondering if he was on to something. you were saying you were handling things, but were you really? your worn down, sore body was screaming at you as you pondered.

eventually, the sliding door into the house creaked open and you remembered where you were. jungkook appeared, having slipped on a denim jacket to combat the slight wind in the air and stepped out to the deck. there was a small frown drawn on his face.

“you okay?” he asked.

nearing a month in town and several weeks of jungkook’s presence becoming a constant around the farm, it was safe to say that the two of you grew close once again. it was more than you were willing to admit, that was for sure. it still surprised you when you heard how harsh your tone was when you opened your mouth.

“i need to go home,” you snapped. you could feel your eyelids growing heavy, too, and you couldn’t be around anyone but yourself right now.

jungkook raised his eyebrows. “already? that’s too bad, you missed most of the movie.”

“just gotta go,” you mumbled, stuffing your phone into the back pocket of your jeans.

you got up, remembering that you left your sweater indoors, but jungkook still stood in front of the door. you had to hold back from grumbling.

“i was hoping you’d go for a ride with me before you went home.”

“a ride?” you sputtered. “no, i can’t do that.” your response was immediate and you noticed the way his eyes widened for a moment, as if he said something wrong. you were too tired to clarify how tired you were or how you haven’t been able to bring yourself to attempt riding again. it was a topic of discussion for another day.

jungkook wasn’t sure what to say. “oh, okay.” and just like that, you side-stepped right past him and into the house to grab your things.

the exit was unceremonious and it was fast, as you were holding back tears from the phone call with your father. you could vaguely recall jungkook asking you if he could walk you home, but you already flew out the door. your body was shaking the entire time after the conversation and you could only focus on making it home.

your heart was in your throat and your shoulders were tense, as your head hung down the entire walk back to the farmhouse. you knew things weren’t going to magically be easy, but you at least thought you were doing a good job. you only wanted your parents to think the same.

amidst your physical and mental exhaustion, you realized you took a wrong turn and weren’t sure where you were. your chest tightened and you could only wonder what kind of bad luck you rolled for the day. cheeks wet from stray tears, you wanted to scream.

you pulled your phone out, only realize it was a dead battery. maybe you were as helpless as your dad kept making you out to be, since you seemed to always find yourself in these kinds of situations. a cold breeze danced around your body and you shivered aloud.

“y/n?”

you recognized the voice to be seokjin, who no longer held flowers and seemed to be heading home. you hastily wiped your face, which he didn’t miss. he tentatively approached closer.

“the farm is the other way, where are you going at this time of night?” seokjin asked gently.

“i guess i took a wrong turn,” you sighed, hoping the way your breath shook when you did so wasn’t so obvious.

seokjin offered to walk you back home and this time, in all your weariness, accepted. you peered over as the two of you walked and saw jungkook’s name flash on his phone. you remembered how you left the house and a heavy load of guilt settled in your stomach. you made the metal note to apologize to him tomorrow.

“i thought you had somewhere to be?” you tried breaking the awkward silence.

seokjin never missed a hangout with the boys and even if he had somewhere to go, he made sure that he provided snacks or anything of the sort to his friends. he was the type to take care of everyone. even you, a newcomer to town, seokjin didn’t forget to make you an extra cookie when he made some for the boys or save a seat for you at the saloon.

his smile seemed different than usual. “i made a quick stop to the cemetery to say hi to my wife.”

you broke eye contact, looking down. you weren’t sure until that moment, but over the past month, you were forming the idea that seokjin’s wife wasn’t around. you connected the dots, but didn’t want to ask anyone for confirmation.

“can i ask how long?” you spoke slowly.

“two years today. taehyung didn’t know what day it was when he planned the movie, but i insisted that everyone go on with the plans and i would just leave early.”

he explained that he moved to amber valley to be with his wife four years ago, before she passed away due to a terminal illness. you couldn’t even imagine. like jungkook, you would have never been able to tell with seokjin. you wondered if it was the same for others when they interacted with you, if the remnants of your grief were evident in your day-to-day motions.

you said, “loss is a funny thing. it follows you everywhere and you don’t notice until you remember to turn around.”

“that means loss is also something that you have to leave behind you, y/n. it’s not easy, but you get there.” the small smile on seokjin’s face, whose energy never faltered, was comforting. “it’s people like you and jungkook that inspire me to look forward from loss. i think we’re all doing well for ourselves.”

before the conversation with seokjin, you wouldn’t have been able to agree with that. you’d spend the last hour or so dwelling on the things you weren’t doing right or weren’t doing enough of. but, he was right. you were doing your absolute best and that was all that mattered.

xiii. the apology

the days that followed, you saw less and less of jungkook. deep down, you knew it was your fault. you didn’t mean to storm out on him after the call with your dad and you lacked opportunities to apologize. he still replied to your texts, albeit with less enthusiasm and playfulness than usual. it seemed like he had legitimate excuses to step away from the farm, though, having heard from taehyung that mrs. oh was sick that week and jungkook had to take on more at work.

you decided to take matters into your own hands. after failing to appear at the saloon that weekend, you decided to take an extra long lunch break on sunday and found yourself walking over to his store. this wasn’t the first time you visited him at work - in fact, you stopped by earlier in the week because you were passing by and you wanted to bother him. it wouldn’t be out of place for you to pop in.

“is jungkook not here?” you asked sangwoo, mrs. oh’s thirteen year old son who was propped up in front of the register, watching a tv show on his phone.

sangwoo’s bored eyes looked up at you. “dunno. he’s not working today.”

that was strange. you thought that was the part of the reason why he couldn’t come by the farm. you thanked the boy and left the store, wondering what you should do next. you contemplated texting him, but he left the meme you sent last night on delivered.

as you walked back to the farm, you decided to take an early left turn and soon ended up in front of jungkook’s house. since moving back, this was actually your first time seeing his house again. it looked mostly untouched from your memories and you noticed that the white pick-up truck that once belongs to jungkook’s dad was still kept in the driveway. the tree in his front yard still had the same tire swing that you once almost broke your neck fooling around on.

you weren’t entirely sure about what you were doing to say when he opened the door. you decided against outright accusing him of avoiding you, even though that was exactly what you thought he was doing. maybe take a page out of his book and conjure up a wild excuse.

when you rang the doorbell, you realized there was no sound that followed and softly knocked instead. in a few moments, the door creaked open, just enough for you to make out jiwon’s big eyes.

“oh, hi y/n!” her toothy smile reminded you of her big brother.

you mirrored the smile. “hi jiwon. do you mind getting jungkook?”

she opened the door wider and you could make out the living room behind her. there, you noticed hoseok fast asleep on the leather recliner seat in front of the television. jiwon quietly put a finger to her pursed lips, pointing to hoseok’s sleeping figure. she stepped out and you made space for her, as she closed the door.

“your brother is out?” you asked.

jiwon nodded, clutching onto the teddy bear in her hand. it was the same one that once belonged to jungkook. you remembered because when you guys turned eleven, you made fun of him for a whole summer straight for still carrying it around. her other hand held a handheld electric fan to ward off the amber valley summer heat.

“he took leo to the vet. why are you looking for him?” she sang the last part, swinging back and forth, looking up at you with a smirk that seemed to know more than you did.

you assumed leo was jungkook’s horse, knowing he continued to keep them at his house. that instilled a sense of relief in you, as it made you think less than he was intentionally avoiding you. your bubble was shortly burst.

jiwon sat down on the porch bench. “oh, and he’s definitely avoiding you!”

“what?” you blinked, thinking that you didn’t hear her correctly.

“i said hoseok is the worst sitter, i’m bored with nothing to do.”

this little girl was definitely jeon jungkook’s sister, the mischievous glint in her eyes was all the proof you needed.

for the next half an hour, despite having only left the farm for a quick break, you broke out in conversation with jiwon and enjoyed chatting with her. you always wanted a sister and you always complained that god gave you jungkook as a friend instead. you couldn’t believe how bubbly and intelligent jiwon was for her age.

jiwon was sitting crisscrossed, playing with the arm of her stuffed animal. “unnie. . .” you didn’t even flinch when she called you that, instead smiling. “can i ask you something?”

“sure, jiwon,” you replied.

she looked off to where her dad’s old truck was parked. “can you tell me what my parents were like? oppa gets kind of upset when i ask.”

you froze. the last month, you were dedicated to connecting with the valley once more. over time, you remembered the smell of coffee in town square and the way the sand on the beach shone like glitter. you remembered what it was like having neighbours and how cutting fresh grass felt like home. it was gradual, but you were slowly getting there. regardless, some memories only lived in picture frames and buried in your mind, underneath years that have gone by.

“they were the best people,” you offered, closing your eyes and trying to imagine yourself on the same porch with jungkook as kids, where his dad taught you two how to play chess and his mom would always come out with iced tea after a long day. “your dad was the kind of man who was good at everything. he showed jungkook and i how to fly a kite, how to play chess - “

“i love chess!” she interrupted, the smile on her face widening at the thought of her dad sharing something with her.

like jungkook, jiwon looked at the brighter side of life. it was admirable. you could only wish it was contagious.

jiwon began swinging her legs on the bench. “i have the best oppa, but i feel bad for him sometimes. he was really smart when you were little, right?”

“as smart as he can be with that dense skull of his,” you joked, which made jiwon giggle.

she said, “did you go to college? i know oppa didn’t go to college so he could take care of me. . .”

you reassured jiwon that jungkook only wanted the best for her and that he was happy right now. at that moment, you made out his figure approaching, walking with his horse by his side. you quickly stood up and you didn’t notice the way jiwon smiled in satisfaction when she watched you do so.

“y/n? what are you doing here?” jungkook was puzzled at your appearance.

before you could answer, jiwon interjected. “can unnie watch me next time?” she was giddy, holding onto your arm. your heart warmed, knowing that jiwon took a liking to you.

“jiwon, you know y/n is always busy,” jungkook scolded, pinching her nose. “sorry, i know she’s a handful.” he turned to you, apologetically.

“hey!” jiwon piped, but he waved her off.

you shook your head. “actually, i wouldn’t mind at all. i’d love to look after her whenever you need.”

jungkook’s eyes softened. he cleared his throat and gestured for jiwon to come closer to him. he whispered something in her ear and handed over leo’s lead rope to her, presumably directing for her to take the horse behind the house. she rolled her eyes at him and did so.

it was just the two of you now, standing underneath the beating sun. his cowboy hat protected his face, while you were covered partially by the house. still, he came closer and gently tugged you into the house, murmuring something about the heat wave that week.

like the set-up of the farmhouse, there were several electric fans on at once inside. now that you were able to observe closer, you saw that jungkook’s house was a lot different than what you remembered. the furniture was different and was arranged differently. the old fireplace was closed up. his kitchen was no longer filled to the brim with snacks, as his mother used to keep it, and the only thing on his counter was a coffee machine.

“i wanted to change things up when they passed away, so i wouldn’t dwell so much,” he spoke, as if reading your mind.

there was only one picture that you recognized on the walls, being one of you and jungkook when you were approximately six years old. captured was the same living room, where the two of you were playing with power rangers figures. everything else was foreign, mostly recent pictures of jiwon. there was a single family portrait by the staircase, which depicted a toddler-aged jiwon and a teenage jungkook.

you snapped out of it when you heard hoseok’s snores, still fast asleep a few feet away from you. jungkook snorted when he noticed. his voice remained at the same volume, unbothered.

“why did you come by?” jungkook put his keys on the table next to the entryway.

you sighed. “i just wanted to apologize for the other night. i’ve been under a lot of pressure and my body was so exhausted that day, too.”

he nodded slowly. “it’s okay. i was just. . .worried about you. jin told me he ran into you on your way home.”

“yeah, i had a lot going on.” you brushed off imaginary dust off your tank top. “i didn’t mean to intrude, sorry.”

jungkook assured you everything was fine and you did believe him in the moment. however, for the next week that followed, it appeared as though everything was but. you weren’t sure what affirmations you were chasing, but you were aware that things were off with him.

things were normal when you hung around everyone else, but jungkook still hadn’t returned to his usual routine with you of coming around the farm. he was lively when you conversed at the saloon or when you ran into each other in town, but it seemed like an invisible wall was erected between the two of you and you had no idea where it came from. you, being you, made it your mission to figure out why.

xiv. the confession

yoongi gave you a deadpan expression when you came to him for advice. you didn’t actually mean to come to him for advice, but as you happened to run into him at the hardware store, the sales clerk made a side comment that you couldn’t ignore.

“where’s your boyfriend? don’t you two usually come in together?” she asked you, as you came in to check out new work boots.

you were perplexed when you realized she was talking about jungkook. for the previous weeks, you accompanied jungkook to the hardware store whenever he found a new excuse of a repair to help out with.

“he’s working today,” said a voice behind you and you turned around, seeing it was yoongi with insect repellant in his hand.

the sales clerk seemed pleased with the answer. “oh, i see! i was just surprised, i’ve never seen you without him at your side!”

“hi yoongi, nice seeing you,” you said, after giving the young lady a polite fake laugh.

the two of you made small talk about the weather and walked out together. when you made it outside, you decided to be blunt.

“i made jungkook upset, didn’t i?”

he looked at you blankly. “no, he’s just under the impression that you’re overwhelmed with work and feels like he’s been ‘too much’” yoongi made air-quotes, as if repeating back jungkook’s exact words.

“in what way?” you questioned.

“i literally just said - oh, you guys are so clueless with each other.” yoongi squeezed his eyes shut. “bless your heart, honestly.”

even though a part of you felt it every time you opened your front door and saw jungkook, or even just seeing his name pop up on your phone, you remained silent. what were you to even say to that?

he said, “oh, come on. even the little teenager at the hardware store can see that the two of you have feelings for each other.”

sometime in between sharing meals together, sneaky glances when the other wasn’t looking and unassuming banter, there were undefined feelings that settled in the cracks. there was understanding and there was nostalgia. what you felt for jungkook you had yet to calculate. there was no other answer to what drove you towards him.

that same night, you decided it was time to put your foot down. you texted jungkook, confirming dinner with him and asked to meet you at the saloon. that was mistake number one. you don’t know why you thought it was going to be a good idea and realized where you went wrong when you entered, noticing that a few of your friends were lingering. it shouldn’t have surprised you, considering it was everyone’s typical hangout spot.

you waved to hoseok and taehyung, declined jimin’s offer of a beer, and sat down at the very back of the bar. you hoped that this would be a sufficient sign for them to leave you be and then, jungkook walked in. you pretended to not notice and he walked over to your friends, greeting them and chatting with them briefly. namjoon then pointed towards you and you groaned, knowing that the boys were about to spectate your conversation.

“hey, y/n. did you order yet?” jungkook smiled, taking the seat across from you. you saw a thumbs up from namjoon, away from everyone else’s line of vision, and you wanted to face palm.

you shook your head. “how are you?”

today, he was dressed in his typical attire. all black, wearing dark denim and a wife beater tank. jungkook took off his hat when he walked in and placed it next to him. every outfit he wore seemed to expose his beautiful tattoos and it was always hard to not stare. you got a glimpse of his chest pieces a few times when he was working on the farm and the heat proved too aggressive for him, which prompted him to go shirtless. it was cute when he hurriedly covered up when you approached at these times, apparently too shy to be half-naked around you.

jungkook began talking about work and apologized for not coming around as much. the small talk made you even more nervous, having walked in and ready to lay down the law. the thoughts about him and what you thought were unresolved feelings between you and him were following you like bees to honey. despite this, you grew less confident as the mundane conversation dragged on. the two of you continued chatting and the subject eventually changed to the upcoming midsummer fair.

“so, who are you taking to the fair? it’s become more of a ‘couple’ thing in recent years.” jungkook’s tone was breezy and casual, but you nearly choked on your water.

you tried to compose yourself, breathing as deeply as you could without making it obvious. “oh, really?”

this was your time to confess. the idea made you nauseous, as if you were a school girl. you took a breath.

“yeah. you know. . .” jungkook trailed off, in thought. “taehyung seems to have taken a liking to you. you should ask him!”

did he just say taehyung? a plastic smile stretched across your lips, as you took a second to take it in. the enthusiasm on jungkook’s features confused you in a way you had never been confused before. you were reading everything wrong. the small touches, the big gestures. you couldn’t believe everything was all in your head.

“look, taehyung and i have gotten close since he moved to town. i’ll help you out,” jungkook declared. “you’re gonna need it, ugly.”

“shut up!” you chuckled through your teeth, neither agreeing or arguing with him. you were still in a state of surprise.

by the time the two of you began eating, it was just a few other patrons left in the saloon. a quiet thursday night, but your mind was screaming with just about a hundred different things and you could only smile and nod at jungkook, who was explaining taehyung’s ideal type. when jungkook got up to use the bathroom, you caught namjoon and hoseok’s eyes from the bar.

when the former gave you a thumbs up, you could only respond with the most aggressive thumbs down possible.

𝐓𝐀𝐆 𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓. @sstrongstyletyle @wobblewobble822@taiwan0618 @seokout @firelcrds @xwniazx @shellyyy177

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