#although not sure what exactly it was missing other than it just *did*

[beenbaanbuun]

blood w/ poly!ateez

so i feel so sane about this… definitely no evil thoughts filling up my brain right now. none whatsoever :)

i want to write so much more about this universe and i’m literally sending the biggest kiss ever to @ateez-main-yapper to requesting this because i will be thinking about this for the rest of my life!

words - idk

genre - smut, horror (there’s a bit of gore i guess)

warnings - vampire!ateez, mafia!ateez, human!reader, smuggler!reader, blood, scarification, collars, ownership, blood, surgery mentions, nicknames (little mouse, princess, sweetheart), dancer!yeosang, security guard!mingi, ripper!doctor!yunho, mommy!seonghwa (don’t look at me like that, i had to), hand kink (mentioned), no actual sex but it’s talked about a lot, hair pulling, i think that’s all??

——————————————————————————

the scent of stale blood haunts the hallway you find yourself walking down, clinging to the back of your throat until yourself gagging on it. no matter how many times you find yourself down here, it never gets any easier to cope with; even a slaughterhouse would be more pleasant than this.

it begs the question why you’re back. by now, you’ve bled them of enough money to never have to work again, so it’s certainly not the pay. the job itself is harder than most, and not at all rewarding when you have to lie and cheat your way into success. there’s no doubt that the stress of hiding a smuggling operation behind the guise of a blood donation clinic has taken a good 20 years of your life from you. you can guarantee that job satisfaction isn’t what’s keeping you here either.

it’s only when you turn a corner and your eyes land upon them that you remember exactly why you’re still so willing to walk these halls. it isn’t something keeping you here but rather someone; multiple someones, in fact.

“mingi!” your footsteps quicken as you get closer the security guard that stands waiting outside of a heavy metal door. despite the fact that you’ve been on the other side of it multiple times, it still sends a shiver of curiosity down your spine. it’s not an anxious curiosity as it was when you first landed yourself in this position, but more of a morbid one. you know the horrors that lie behind it, you’ve experienced a few of them too, yet you still yearn to see more. “long time no see,” you offer a polite smile once you’re close enough to lower your volume from a shout, “san told me hongjoong had assigned you to pest control. is it not going well?”

mingi gives you a slow blink, his jaw set in stone and his eyes steely as he stares you down. he’s always looked far more intimidating than he actually is, although you suppose it serves to his benefit when his main job it scaring away anyone who might wish to disturb the peace. you’re only grateful to have had the chance to see behind the mask he wears; to watch his eyes melt and his lips part in the wonky grin he gets so little time to wear.

“you’ve not seen me in months and the first thing you ask me is about my demotion back to security?” he quirks a brow at you and you have to bite back your grin. in truth, you’d heard all about it from seonghwa over the past few weeks, your main contact within the clan more than happy to share life details with you as though you’re a lifelong friend rather than a mere employee. their favourite employee, sure, but still at the bottom of the pecking order.

“i just wanted to know more,” you lift your arms in defence, not missing the way his eyes flicker to the bandage on your left forearm, “like you said, it’s been a while.”

mingi hums in agreement as he examines the clean cloth. a long finger reaches out to trace the spot where the fabric meets your skin, the touch lingering and soft. it’s more the real mingi than it is the security guard mingi; it warms your heart to see.

“when did this happen?” he whispers, voice barely above a whisper.

“about two weeks ago,” you i pull your wrist back, letting mingi’s hand drop back down to his side, “hongjoong wanted to approach me about it, but i didn’t take much convincing,” actually, it was you who approached him but for some reason that’s much harder to admit, “you guys are much… kinder to me than the other clans i supply, well, supplied to. it was a no brainer to ditch them when given the chance.”

“so you’re ours?” he asks, voice dipping a little too low for the question to be purely innocent.

“i’m mine,” you confirm, “what i supply, however, is all yours.”

there’s a smirk on his lips, not as easily defeated by your sense of self worth as you’d like him to be. he knows as well as the rest of them what the mark on your arm means, after all. he knows as well as you do that there’s no getting away from them now. the moment yunho took his sweet, sadistic time carving their mark into your body it wasn’t just your business that belonged to them.

“sure you are, little mouse,” he whispers as he leans in close, his icy breath fluttering against your face. your stomach drops but you choose to ignore it. this was your decision, after all, “now, scurry along; you wouldn’t want to keep anyone waiting, would you?”

with the flip of a switch, the metal door clicks open and your immediately met with a blast of cool air and a wall of sound. you’ll never understand the clan’s need for these constant frivolities, especially when you’re on the other side of this getting your hands dirty, but you suppose it is a good way to hide their more secretive operations. no one is going to notice the door in the corner when there’s so much going on out here, right? it’s an extra layer of security, and a darn good one at that.

when you step inside, the door clicks shut behind you and you immediately get to scanning the crowd of partygoers for a familiar face. amongst the hoard of vampires, they’re harder to spot, their ashy skin and red eyes sticking out a lot less than they would next to a human. instead you look for a familiar hair colour, recalling the angry text you got from seonghwa about the den’s main bathroom turning pink with hongjoong’s hairdye. nothing sticks out at you, though, and so you’re back at square one.

your arms stretch out before you as you go to push through the crowd. it’s moments like this that you’re glad for the metal, almost collar-like band around your neck. yeosang had created it as a way to keep your pulse hidden from any less-well-meaning vampires. he’d insisted that the tag dangling from it with the clan’s emblem engraved was all hongjoong’s idea, but you recognise the same possessive glint in all of their eyes. it’s the same one yunho had given you when engraving that very emblem into your body, and the same one san had given to you when wrapping your bleeding arm up in a fluffy white bandage. yeosang is just like the rest of them, even behind his sweet exterior.

but right now he isn’t crafting some marvel of engineering out of metal scraps and a dream, but instead on the stage at the front of the room. it’s not often he’s up there instead of one of the others, but as you watch him elegantly dangle from a hoop that hangs from the ceiling, you find it hard to see why. he’s utterly ethereal, like a butterfly about to emerge from a chrysalis; one of those blue ones with the wings that seemed designed to capture your attention with their beauty. you’re entranced, much more so than the rest of the party-goers who seem to have grown blind to the creature moving elegantly before them.

his body moves not at all like a butterfly though, instead flowing smoothly like a viper along the branch of a tree. he extends his arms in such a way you’ve never seen before, silken and smooth as he reaches out to his audience. it pulls you in further, your feet shuffling as you push through the final layer of people to get to the stage. you stumble forwards, catching yourself on the edge of the raised platform. if he notices you there, he doesn’t show it; the stoic expression he wears remains steady as he gracefully shifts his body into yet another position.

you watch him like that until the end of his performance, unblinking with your lips parted in awe. even the way he tumbles to the floor and bows to an uninterested audience holds so much more grace than you think you will ever possess. to think that this is the man that spends half of his time smeared in motor oil with a puppy-like grin on his lips is strange, yet it feels so right.

“hello, little mouse,” he echoes the familiar nickname as he makes his way to the front of the stage, crouching down in front of you and running an all-too-confident finger along your jawline to your chin. he snaps your mouth shut in a way that is so far from the yeosang you know that part of you believes this must be his much cockier twin. “hongjoong is out tonight; some trouble on south side caught his attention so he wanted to clean up the mess before the police got there.”

“i’m meeting with seonghwa then?” you murmur, too starstruck for your mouth the form words properly.

yeosang shakes his head.

“seonghwa and san went with him,” the finger from your chin shifts down to the piece of jewellery that fits snug around your neck. his touch catches against the tag, the jingling sound reminding you of a bell on a cats collar. you try to ignore the smirk that rises to his face as sees you make the connection, instead shifting your gaze to the pendant around his neck that shares the same symbol. “yunho is busy with whatever sick shit gets him off, me and mingi are working which means…”

fuck.

“jongho and wooyoung.”

“clever mouse,” yeosang’s tone is venomous, despite his words being soft. clearly performing does something to his ego; inflates it until every sign of the sweet mechanic is hidden behind a thick shroud of confidence. it’s deliciously cruel, mirroring the sick sadism of yunho or the vast overconfidence of mingi, and holy fuck do you want a taste. perhaps later, once business is over.

if business is over.

“i wouldn’t worry too much about those two, though,” he continues, tugging on the tag of your collar—because despite your pride, even you have to admit that there’s no other way to describe it—until you’re face is merely inches from his own, “hongjoong promised yunho their balls if they can’t learn to control them. maybe you’ll finally be able to have a meeting with them before getting your pussy stuffed, hm?”

you feel yourself getting warmer, your face flushing as yeosang so blatantly talks about your track record with the pair of resident trouble makers. it’s not like you’ve let slip about all the times jongho’s had you sitting on his cock with your mouth wrapped around wooyoung’s the second you step into their office which means that they must have instead. it makes you wonder what they talk about whenever you’re not here, and how much each of them know about your less than professional escapades with each of them. it’s a troubling thought, and yet it’s still manages to light a fire deep in your belly.

“see you later, yeosang,” is the only thing you can mumble in response as you pull away from his touch, the tag of the collar bumping gently against your neck as it slips free of his fingers.

——————-

“you told the others about fucking me?” you scoff as you barge your way into the office where the two youngest vampires await your arrival. it’s nice to see them here already, since they usually arrive far later than the agreed upon time. although, you suppose with the delays of mingi and yeosang, you’re also late on this occasion. you let the passive-aggressive comment about time keeping slide, knowing it won’t help you right now.

“hello to you too, mousy,” wooyoung hums from where he lays on the green sofa in the corner of the room, “it’s nice to see you again! we’re doing wonderfully, by the way; thanks for a—”

you let the door slam behind you as you storm your way towards him, completely ignoring the curious gaze of jongho.

“cut the shit, wooyoung,” you grab hold of his shirt collar and lean in close. it’s supposed to be intimidating but the wide grin on his lips lets you know otherwise. “you’ve all been talking about me when i’m not here? what the fuck, man!”

wooyoung chuckles in your face, his dangerous fangs glinting beneath the overhead lights. you know he’d never bite without your permission—people have been killed by hongjoong for much less—but it still sends a shiver through you whenever you see them.

“you’re not exactly discrete yourself, princess,” the office chair creaks as jongho stands, making his way around his desk and towards you. although you keep your gaze firmly on the little rat who still sits giggling to himself, you can’t help but be hyper aware of the presence behind you. a large hand traces its way up your spine, not stopping until you feel his fingers lace themselves with your locks and tug. your grip fall limply from wooyoung’s shirt as you’re hauled back into the soft muscle of jongho’s chest, your neck craned awkwardly over his shoulder to keep you in place. “what do you want us to say when san is asking about who’s cum he’s eaten from your pussy? do you want us to lie to them?”

you squirm, wincing when his grip on your hair doesn’t loosen despite your attempts to break free. they call you little mouse and right now, you really do feel the part—you walked right into a trap of which there’s no way out.

“maybe i should let you fuck me again just so i can watch when yunho rips your fucking balls off your body!” you grunt through gritted teeth.

jongho hums in amusement, “it was hyperbole, sweetheart,” a pair of cold lips meet the hot skin of your cheek for just a second before pulling away, the softness a stark contrast to the harsh grip he still has you in, “he doesn’t care how much we fuck you as long as we get the job done. after all, he’d be a hypocrite to complain about us fucking you when his dick is inside of you twice as often, hm?”

you watch with cautious eyes as wooyoung stands from his place on the sofa, grinning as wide as the cheshire cat. it reeks of danger, yet you’ve never been the type to give into that sort of thing. you’re a human working for a bunch of vampires; danger is just a regular part of your life at this point.

“besides, mousy,” the cheshire cat purrs, “you think we’re the only ones who talk? you don’t think we know just how much you love calling seonghwa mommy when you ride him? or how much you love it when yeosang spits in your mouth whenever he’s fucking you dumb?” wooyoung brings a hand to your cheek, dusting over your bottom lip with his thumb, “you’re ours, little mouse; we can talk if we want.”

[5sospenguinqueen]

A Million Kisses - Arthur Leclerc x Reader

Summary: You and Arthur have spent your entire life terrorising Charles. But when he turns the tables on you, bringing up a topic you’ve largely ignored since your teenaged years, the dynamic changes.

Warnings: Swearing. Fluff. Bullying Charles

2024 timeline. Pinterest pics. Childhood friends to lovers trope

F1 Masterlist

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scuderiaferrari just posted

liked by its_yn_ln, arthur_leclerc and others 

scuderiaferrari just friday things 

1,997 comments

pierregasly you all know what’s coming

user1 oh dear, not a charles post

its_yn_ln another day, another thirst trap. bet he posted this himself

arthur_leclerc not what i wanted to see when i opened up my phone 

→ its_yn_ln agreed, i think i’ve gone blind 

user2 every charles post summons yn and and arthur

arthur_leclerc where’s the carlos content? only reason i followed

→ charles_leclerc i’d like both of you to piss off

→ its_yn_ln that’s not a nice way to talk to your fans 

alexandrasaintmleux 💕

→ its_yn_ln did charles force you to write that so that it seemed like somebody liked him?

→ arthur_leclerc don’t be silly, yn. he took her phone and wrote it himself 

user3 not the terror twins at it again

user4 poor charles has been suffering from this ever since he joined f1

→ user5 and prior, it just wasn't as well documented lol 

user6 i bet charles begs admin to cancel his posts because he lives in fear of the comments

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charles_leclerc just posted

liked by alexandrasaintmleux, pierregasly and others

charles_leclerc beach days 

1,616 comments 

pierregasly looking good, brother (but i’m praying for you for when they see this) 

its_yn_ln and i thought narcissus loved himself 

→ charles_leclerc i miss the days before arthur befriended you 

→ arthur_leclerc so before we were both born?

→ charles_leclerc exactly 

scuderiaferrari making the most of summer break

→ user7 he’s actually begging for you to take him back so that he doesn’t have to spend another minute with yn and arthur 

its_yn_ln put your chitties away 

→ user8 when people ask me what my fav part of f1 is, i show them yn’s comments 

arthur_leclerc not shown is charles eating waves every two seconds 

→ charles_leclerc still did better than you. you wouldn’t stop staring at yn long enough to concentrate on the waves 

→ user9 what did he sayyyy

→ user10 my ynarthur heart is screaming

→ user11 um, guys, who else thinks there’s truth to this

→ user12 no because they have NEVER let charles have the last comment yet neither clap back at this??

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its_yn_ln just posted

liked by alexandrasaintmleux, francisca.cgomes and others 

its_yn_ln as charles once said, beach days ☀️ although my post is better because it has me and arthur in it 

965 comments

arthur_leclerc anything is better with us and not charles 

→ its_yn_ln more fun too 

→ arthur_leclerc that’s just me, chérie

→ user14 i’m not screaming, you are 

alexandrasaintmelux belle fille

→ its_yn_ln pas comparé à toi. still not sure what you’re doing with charles

→ alexandrasaintmleux doesn’t she look gorgeous @/arthur_leclerc?

→ arthur_leclerc you and charles deserve each other

charles_leclerc and no thank you to the brother who lent you his yacht for your date? 

→ alexandrasaintmleux bébé, it is not a date? remember they made it quite clear

→ charles_leclerc all i’m saying is i do not look at or touch my friends like that 

→ joris_trouche be weird if you did

→ charles_leclerc see @/its_yn_ln weird 

→ its_yn_ln blocked 

francisca.cgomes stunning

→ its_yn_ln marry me?

→ pierregasly @/arthur_leclerc come get your girl 

→ its_yn_ln don’t you fucking start 

oscarpiastri was he holding your hand so you didn’t fall into the water?

→ arthur_leclerc it’s what any good friend would do 

user15 yn and arthur seem to be getting awfully defensive lately 👀

→ user16 no. they’ve always talked about how annoying it is to be accused of being more than friends so how about you don’t contribute to that 

→ user17 yeah but things between them seem to be different lately and now the drivers are publicly commenting on it? 

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arthur_leclerc just posted

liked by logansargeant, oscarpiastri and others 

arthur_leclerc from 2 months to 22 years. it’s been a delight to share every special moment with you. happy birthday, mon problème 🥳🤍

1,027 comments 

its_yn_ln i can’t believe you dug out that baby photo 😭 i look forward to another year with you by my side x

its_yn_ln although waking up to find out you had broken into my apartment and filled it with balloons was a bit of a shock

→ charles_leclerc you might need to get used to seeing that ugly mug first thing in the morning

→ user1 what does this mean?! 

lilymhe okay but the tiara and the shades? iconic

→ its_yn_ln i’m an icon

→ charles_leclerc that’s not how you translate diva 

alexandrasaintmleux happy birthday, yn. can’t wait to see you at dinner later

→ its_yn_ln can my birthday present be you leaving charles at home?

pierregasly happy birthday, yn. drinks on me later

→ its_yn_ln okay, you’re forgiven for teaming up with charles

→ pierregasly i’m not team charles. i’m team ynarthur

→ charles_leclerc we had shirts made

→ arthur_leclerc not today, guys. 

→ user2 oo he used a full stop. he’s pissed

user3 guys, do we think the baby is just a phrase like ‘chaos baby’ or a pet name?

user4 arthur truly is the epitome of ‘if he wanted to, he would’

→ user5 never saw him put in this much effort for any of his previous relationships but yn gets the full princess treatment 

user6 anyone else see that arthur liked @/PastryMan’s tweet about yn

→ user7 okay but let’s not read too much into it. he could just appreciate the compliment fans are giving to his best friend instead of the usual hate people associated with drivers get 

→ user8 also, he was likely highly intoxicated last night lol. pr training vanishes at that point

→ user9 or, hear me out, like his brother and close friends are suggesting, he’s in love with yn 

user10 okay but proof or it didn’t happen @/NoRizz. you wouldn’t be the first one to spread gossip about drivers 

→ user11 okay, i take back my previous comment. i have since seen proof

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charles_leclerc just posted

liked by pierregasly, francisca.cgomes and others

charles_leclerc let’s take a moment to appreciate my photography skills. (oh, and the fact that i am a genius and should not be doubted or ridiculed again) tagged: its_yn_ln, arthur_leclerc 

2,024 comments 

its_yn_ln insert ‘i am stupid’ charles radio here. even YOU think you’re stupid and like you said, we shouldn’t argue with you 

→ charles_leclerc i hate you 

→ its_yn_ln okay but i distinctly remember you asking to be my maid of honour yesterday so…? fake news 

arthur_leclerc can’t really boast about your photography skills when these are all grainy/blurry 

→ charles_leclerc i hate you 

→ arthur_leclerc you literally cried when you caught us sleeping

→ its_yn_ln so loud that it woke us up 

→ user12 he really is their #1 stan

francisca.cgomes the cutest couple 

→ pierregasly what about us?

→ its_yn_ln you don’t deserve her

→ pierregasly what did i do? 

→ pierregasly you should be thanking us! if not for our torment, you and arthur never would’ve been forced to confront your feelings

lilymhe tell that man to get his hands off my wife

→ its_yn_ln look away! it was a moment of weakness 

→ arthur_leclerc she’s loved me for 22 years. she’s only known you for 5, back off

its_yn_ln bébé, why is your brother so obsessed with us?

→ arthur_leclerc he has nothing better to do

→ charles_leclerc merde, i thought sucking each other’s faces would keep you too preoccupied to attack me

→ arthur_leclerc never

→ its_yn_ln well, maybe if you stopped taking pics of us when we did, we’d be more inclined to 

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Requests for F1 smau's are open. You can see who I write for on my masterlist :)

[alteredphoenix]

The more I read about JJK flooring the gas pedal and any% speedrunning its way to ending this year, the more I lose my confidence in rereading it again.

[lemonlover1110]

𝐁𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐅𝐫𝐮𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

Sukuna

[Chapter 1] Offerings

Story Masterlist - Next Chapter →

Pairing: Trueform!Sukuna x f!Reader

*Just want to preface that this is a historical AU but there will be some historical inaccuracies so if you see something odd, don't point it out. Also this is still a curse AU! if that isn't clear with four-armed Sukuna. Anyway I hope you enjoy!! Any general story warnings can be found in the masterlist!

Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi

Sukuna is missing something, he’s not sure what it is but he knows that he’s bored. He’s bored of everything that once thrilled him, tired of the same routine. But no matter what he does, he feels empty. 

He’s done everything possible to soothe that boredom, which has come to the expense of many lives. It entertained him until it didn’t. Occasionally he does find joy in the horrors that he causes but it doesn’t feel like that’s enough anymore. There’s something that he’s missing, but he’s not quite sure what it is. 

He has everything a man could possibly want– Although he isn’t exactly a man so his wants and needs are obviously different. He isn’t going to be fulfilled by the foolish ideals of happiness that men have. He doesn’t have much of a guide though, therefore he’s lost in how to fix his problem. 

“Uraume.” Sukuna’s voice isn’t all that loud, yet Uraume nearly comes running to fulfill his request. The temple is uncomfortably quiet; everyone is ready to fulfill Sukuna’s every request, and their king does not raise his voice unless adrenaline rushes through him, or he’s upset. No one knows which is the worst of the two. 

“My king.” Uraume kneels down before him. He’s quiet, too embarrassed to even bring up this question. It’s unlike him. Uraume is truly the only person that he respects which is why asking the question is hard for him to actually say. He wouldn’t trust anyone else with it though.

“What do men usually do?” He asks, which is odd for Uraume to hear. Sukuna was a man too, once upon a time. But he doesn’t remember that stage of his life, and he’s sure he wasn’t happy either which is the reason why he’s the monster he is now.

“I’m not sure.” They sound reluctant. “If you could be more clear, I can search for an answer.”

“Get out.” He orders, and they bow again before exiting the room. He wants to be left alone to gather his thoughts. He has all the time in the world to figure himself out, but he wants even more time. He doesn’t want to be bothered now of all times at the very least.

“There’s a woman with an offering.” A servant tells him from the other side of the tatami doors, followed by a shrill cry that makes a smirk come to his lips. That’s his answer.

Sukuna wants a successor. 

“Take it to the servants, answer to her needs.” Sukuna answers, not really caring to listen to any requests. His mind is now preoccupied, detailing his next course of action. He needs to find the perfect woman to carry his heir, which he knows will be a hard task– Perhaps the hardest challenge that Sukuna has come by in all of his years of living.

“Please eat, Haru.” You put the bowl beside the young boy’s mat. You’ve been slowly watching your brother’s health deteriorate, slowly watching his death near. Worst of all, you have been looking for a cure that seems impossible to find because it’s not something that’s affecting anyone important. 

It’s not a disease that’s affecting anybody else, really. It’s not infectious, you quickly found that out. You were glad about it at first, but then you realized that there’s no cure yet. Days pass by, and he gets worse. He refuses to eat anything, and when he does, he can’t keep it down for more than a few hours. His death is imminent.

“I did everything I could to get the right ingredients for your favorite food. Auntie made it extra special for you.” You make sure to tell him, but he can barely move. You kneel down beside him, grabbing his utensils and preparing a bite. “Just one bite, Haru.”

“I’m sleepy.” Is all he manages to mutter, and you feel a pull on your heartstrings. Your hand caresses his arm.

“Just one bite, okay? Then you can sleep all day.” You try your best to convince him. All he does is sleep, and no matter how many hours he sleeps, he wakes up tired. He prompts himself up, and you’re fighting back a smile– It’s barely any progress, if you can even call it that. “Open up.”

There’s a smile on your lips as you bring the food to his mouth, and he begins to chew. He takes the utensils from your hand, grabbing the bowl of food and putting it on his lap. You stand up and tell him, “I’ll get you some water.”

“He’s finally eating something.” You share with your aunt, making sure your voice is low since there isn’t all that much space. Her eyes go to him, and she really wants to say that it’s a sign of him getting better but it really doesn’t mean anything. Sometimes he eats everything that’s made for him, but he throws it back up. 

“I really wish this meant he was getting better… But we both know that he’ll get worse tomorrow.” She responds, and you want to curse her for even mentioning it but you know she’s right. You don’t like hearing it though, you’re helpless. There’s nothing more you can do for Haru, you’re just waiting for the day to come. 

“I really think he can get better.” Your eyes begin to feel with tears, knowing that you don’t even believe yourself. You’ve tried everything you possibly can, but you know that his time nears. You can’t just accept that fact though, he’s your baby brother, you can’t let him go. “Let me get his water.”

“I’ll get it… Think about what the medic said.” Your aunt reminds you of the visit from the physician. One that you’ve forgotten because you refuse to consider his one and only suggestion a possibility. The words flow back to your head,

“Your best bet is the deity up north. You have to bring him an offering, and if he deems it worthy enough, he will cure him.” “But if he thinks it’s beneath him, he’ll kill you.”

You don’t want to risk anything, but lately that seems like your only option. He’s not getting any better, even though you so badly want to say that he is. Throwing up everything he eats is not much improvement than not eating at all. You just have to figure out what is considered an offering worthy for the deity to save him, and to save yourself. 

“I’ll be back, I have to figure something out.” You say, smiling back at your aunt and your little brother. They barely acknowledge you before you leave the house, which you’re thankful for. You just need a moment to gather your thoughts, decide what you’ll do next. 

You need to sort out your offering for the deity, an offering that will hopefully sort out all of your problems.

“My king, there’s a woman with an offering.” It feels like the hundredth time that week in which Sukuna hears that sentence. Humans are greedy beings, and they all fucking need something. It’s unnecessary, purely materialistic– It’s a side of humanity that he appreciates though. How much a human is willing to sacrifice for wealth or the promise of good fortune. Sukuna can’t judge, he's the sole winner in the end.

“Let her in.” He says, and the tatami door slides open. A poor maiden with a pale yellow kimono, and a woven basket in hand. You walk in with your head down, following the strict instructions that were given to you. 

You’re trembling as you kneel down in front of the deity, bowing down to him. You remain bowing for however long he pleases, keeping your eyes shut because there’s tears building up. You have never been this terrified. Willingly putting yourself at death’s door is no easy feat.

“Rise.” He orders, and you straighten your upper body, remaining on your knees. You don’t dare look anywhere past his feet, keeping your eyes low and steady. You know that he’s staring you down, studying you. A smirk on his lips, thinking about how he’s found her. “What do you want?”

“My brother…” Your voice is shaky, and you try your best to compose yourself. You can’t start crying in the middle of it, you’ve gotten this far, he’ll surely kill you if you begin to sob at his feet. “He’s sick. The medic can’t cure him, and he told us you were our only choice.”

He’s not really listening. Something about a brother is all he grasped. He’s more into the way your lips move, and the tears of pure fear that well up in your eyes. He can tell that you really made an effort into your look today, even though you don’t look extravagant. Which for some reason he likes, he doesn’t want an arrogant woman in his chambers, he already has enough of them. He especially doesn’t want one of them carrying his heir.

What really draws him in is that certain look in your eyes. The clear innocence that’s written all over your face. You’re the perfect lily that he can’t wait to tear apart, petal by petal. That finalizes his decision.

“What do you have for me? Open the basket.” He orders, and you do as he says. Regret washes over you as you open it, immediately knowing that it’s not enough. You don’t know what came over you when you had the bright idea of picking it. You unfold the cloth with shaky hands, revealing the gift for him. He’s usually furious with these types of gifts, since they hold no value to him but he wants to hear your reasoning since he has other plans with you, “Why do you come to me with this?”

“Pomegranates aren’t native to the land, and they’re scarce this time of season. I found some while searching for an offering and thought it was a sign.” You explain, and he scoffs. A stupid reason, one that should get you killed. If he wanted fruit, he would send Uraume to get it for him. He guesses it’s creative though, especially when almost every person that walks through the temple is willing to sacrifice a life. But you don’t gain points for creativity, no one ever has.

“Pomegranates? What am I supposed to do with that?” He’s mocking you, and you swallow the lump in your throat. He’s right, what is he supposed to do with a pomegranate? He’s not like you, he’s not just going to eat it. You’re usually smart about this type of thing, but you guess desperation got the best of you this time around, and now you have to pay for the consequences. As to be expected, there’s no answer from you, and he orders, “Look up at me.”

Your eyes slowly move up his body to his face, and you’re in awe at the sight. A mix of emotions flow through your body. He really isn’t a human. You were terrified earlier, but now you’re simply astonished. You never really believed the tales that were told about him since you couldn’t wrap your head around the fact that a being like him could exist. But now he stands before you.

“Do you really think I’ll do anything with the fruit?” His voice sounds serious, but there’s a hint of a smile on his lips. You shake your head which irks him. “You have a voice don’t you? Use it.”

“No, my king. My apologies.” It’s strange, but you sound more confident as you look at him compared to before. It brings some sort of satisfaction to Sukuna since usually people that are allowed to look directly at him can barely communicate.  

“I’ll give you a chance to redeem yourself.” He’s thinking about how merciful he is– Which isn’t entirely a lie since Sukuna never gives a second chance. Except you have no idea how you can redeem yourself unless he dismisses you. Little do you know what he’s thinking for you. “I have a proposal for you.”

“A what…?” Your eyebrows perk up as curiosity takes over you. A proposal from a deity, it’ll surely be something that you have yet to hear. 

“Bear my child, and I’ll forgive you.” He says, and you almost fall back. Your ears must be deceiving you, there’s no way that the proposal that you just heard is real. Your eyes are wide open, and you hear him laugh. It must be a joke then. 

“Uraume!” Sukuna yells, wanting it to be clear that he doesn’t want to waste a single second. Not even a second later, and they’re in the room, waiting for their king’s command. “Take the maiden and prepare her for me tonight.”

“Wait– You’re serious?” You dare to ask. You haven’t even agreed, yet he’s getting you ready for tonight, to have a baby with him of all things. “You don’t even know my name, why would you want me to carry your baby?”

“What’s your name then?” He asks, clearly irritated by the question, and you have no choice but to answer. If you don’t, you’re screwed. “There we have it. Take her, Uraume.”

“Wait!” You shout, but Sukuna isn’t going to listen to more of it. Uraume guides you outside, a task that they usually do harsher. At any other time, they’d be dragging you outside but you’re not just anybody. 

You’re the woman that will carry King Sukuna’s heir.

[gyusrose]

➵ you’re so vain -> l.hs

⚠︎ smut (mdni)

✎ jock!heeseung x reader, enemies to ?????, heeseung is rlly annoying, hate sex ;), hair pulling, dirty talk, unprotected sex, degradation, backshots lmao. i think that’s it?

summary: attending a new school was supposed to be a fresh start for you, trying to be nice to everyone and have new friends, yet coming across lee heeseung threw all of that out the window.

(heeseung x fem.reader)

wc: 3.2k

your sweaty hands could not be gripping the steering wheel any harder. you wouldn’t call yourself “super shy” but when it comes to a whole new community of people, teenagers, hell yeah you are.

you had to move exactly at the middle of the year due to your mom’s work. they offered her double the salary at the other side of the city, who was she to say no to that? although you were going to miss your friends and the overall environment of your old home, you couldn’t just tell your mom ‘no’, either way her decisions are final.

you just got here two days ago, and to be honest, it wasn’t that bad. the worst thing so far is the fact that the nearest shopping center was 30 minutes away but you’ll live.

you didn’t except your first day of school to be so nerve-wracking. surely you’ll make some friends but who knows what people are like here. eventually, you saw the big navy blue sign with your school’s name on it. it was an averagely big school, bigger than your old one, which also meant more people.

the parking space alone was scary. it was huge yet already full even though it was still fairly early. you went around in circles around the parking lot, trying to find a vacant spot. fortunately you did at the second-to-last line.

as you tried to park, the limited space you had made it difficult to, having to back up and drive in constantly. as you reversed your car, you must have completely forgotten that you aren’t the only one there, feeling a small crash at the bumper of your car.

your eyes widened in panic. you looked back to see what you hit, and with your luck, it revealed at very nice black car, to which you’ve just hit. you tried to quickly get into your parking spot, hoping it was nothing serious, but then someone came walking up to you.

‘shit, that must be the owner’ you saw his red, rather handsome, fuming face.

you got out of your car to confront the first person interaction.

“hey look im so-“

“CANT YOU FUCKING DRIVE RIGHT? YOU HIT MY VERY EXPENSIVE CAR WITH YOUR THING, WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE?”

oh he was an asshole. you almost scoffed in his face. who does he think he is.

“it was accident that’s all, it was barely a scratch calm down man.”

“IT WAS DEFINITELY A SCRATCH LOOK AT IT! JUST BECAUSE YOU KEEP YOUR CAR LOOKING ALL MISERABLE DOESNT MEAN I WILL, DO YOU EVEN HAVE A LICENSE?”

lord take me back. you were so close to just leaving him there arguing with himself. but you didn’t want to make him even angrier.

“look im sorry! i can pay for the fix up if that’s what you want, i dont know what else to do?”

the boy scoffed and rolled his eyes at your statement.

“you think i don’t have the money for it? please, it shows you’re a newbie around here.”

“i didn’t mean it like that-“

“yo heeseung!! come on bro!” another blonde boy called from afar, hopefully ending the argument y’all were having.

“ watch your back new girl.” with one last glare, he left to join his group of friends.

you rolled your eyes. shiver my fucking timbers, you thought.

you took a deep breath before grabbing your backpack and making your way into school , hoping to never see his face ever again.

>>

you thought that was going to be the end of it all. but oh boy were you wrong. soon you found out that heeseung is the captain of the football team, and pretty much the most popular boy in school. as cliche as it sounds, every girl would drop their panties if he asked them to.

people know he’s not the nicest person ( an asshole) yet they still look up to him. that’s angered you. how are all these people so dumb? just because he’s kinda good-looking? seriously?

over the course of a few weeks, you’ve managed to make some friends, your closest taehyun and Isa. although you tried to block the negativity, heeseung made it really hard. always giving you snarky comments when he saw you around, ridiculing you in front of other people. somehow always finding a way to run into you despite not having any classes together. except gym.

“ bro open your eyes, catch the damn ball!” he yelled from across from you.

you hated sports. even less could you play one, but you gotta do it for the grade.

“the ball was too high up dummy!” you retorted, rolling your eyes for maybe the 100th time in the class period.

if you hated gym before, you definitely hated it more now.

as the period ended, you decided to take a quick shower in the locker rooms since you couldn’t handle being all sweaty and gross throughout the day.

heeseung finished changing and was outside the locker room with his friends, chatting, waiting for the bell to ring. that’s when he may have accidentally eavesdropped the conversation between your two friends, he could barely the names of.

“where’s _____?” taehyun asked isa, noticing how you weren’t with her.

“she’s taking a shower right now, she told us to not wait for her.” Isa shrugged before taehyun nodded.

a beautiful idea popped in heeseung’s brain. it was too good.

he excused himself and sneakily waited by the girl’s locker room, waiting for everyone to come out. once he only heard the shower you were using running, he quietly entered the room. the bell had rang about a minute ago, so the gym was empty, only you and him. the gym teacher god knows where.

he saw his target and rapidly grabbed the pile of clothes sitting on the bench, a smirk evident in his face.

suddenly the shower stopped running, making heeseung hurry and exit the locker room.

the shower felt too good, you think you spent more time that you anticipated to. as you exited the shower tiles, you looked around for your clothes, which you remember clearly leaving them in the bench closest to the shower. you looked around the whole locker room, hoping you were wrong and placed them elsewhere. unfortunately, you couldn’t even find your damn socks.

your biggest fear has come true. you’re now naked, nothing but a towel covering you, this was more than just humiliating. you felt sad, mad, angry, embarrassed all at once. they’ve been stolen for sure, and you were more than sure on who did it.

grabbing your phone you called Isa, to see if she could help you somehow. and she indeed did. bringing you some spare clothes she had. thankfully, you always bring extra underwear since situations like these could happen. you just had to wait for isa for the clothes, yet the five minutes she took felt like five hours. unfortunately, passing period is over, meaning some students are coming in the locker room to change.

many of them just straight up stared at you. giving you weird looks as to why you were pretty much naked in the middle of the locker room, but none had the guts to ask you.

you wished the ground would just swallow you whole. lee heeseung won’t hear the end of it.

“LEE HEESEUNG!” you yelled across the field. he and his friends were siting down eating lunch outside when you spotted him after trying to find him after the stunt he just pulled.

heeseung knew it was coming, giggling with his friends as they heard you yell his name once again. “ oh she’s about to scold me now .” heeseung scoffed but still got up and went over to you.

“yes ma’am?” he said with a smile, you wish you could slap off but you’re better than that.

“YOU KNOW WHAT YOU DID DO YOU KNOW HOW EMBARRASSING THAT WAS?”

“i have no idea what you’re talking about..” heeseung tried acting innocent but failed as he just burst out laughing. you groaned, how on earth is that funny?

“cute panties by the way” he continued to laugh, not sparing a glance at your mad expression on your face.

“you’re such an ass, i hate your guts.” you said leaving him alone, laughing to himself.

“yo bro i think she actually got mad this time.” his friend, jake came over.

heeseung shrugged. “she’s so sensitive, it wasn’t even that bad.”

“i can’t believe he did that…” taehyun said as you told them both what had happened. Isa knew a little bit but not who did it.

“that’s fucked up, what’s he got against you so much?”

you shrugged. “i guess because i gave his car a little scratch, but i guess he took it to heart since he hasn’t stopped bothering me since. he’s a jerk.”

“finally someone who thinks the same as me!” taehyun said making you chuckle.

“then get back at him! you know the one thing that makes him who he is is that damn football.” Isa said.

you tried to be the bigger person this whole time, not paying much mind to his little remarks or pranks he pulls, biting back a little wouldn’t hurt right?

“you know what, you’re right.”

“lee heeseung, mrs. park wants to speak to you.” mr.jung said calling heeseung.

heeseung who was barely paying attention heard his name. his frowned at this. what on earth could she want to talk about with him? either way, he went to her classroom.

he entered the empty classroom to find his coach and mrs.park, waiting for him. what the fuck? heeseung was more confused now. maybe they were going to congratulate him for the good work this semester? his coach’s face said otherwise though.

“there you are, you may be wondering why you’re here..” mrs.park started. heeseung nodded, feeling uneasy.

“a student came forward, showing how you copied word for word her whole assignment, the one i assigned a week ago. i didn’t notice it at first but it’s very clear now, you may know how cheating is unacceptable in my class, i’ve decided to fail you in this assignment, plus you’ll be serving detention this whole week..” she turned to the coach.

heeseung’s heart started beating at a rapid pace, he’s never been caught cheating, and being failed on the assignment that was a big part of his grade, it means he’s most likely failing the class now. the rules for football stated that all players should be passing all of their classes if not, they’ll be dropped….

no no no, the lee heeseung can’t be dropped. he’s the captain! the star player!

“since you’re failing this class heeseung, i think you know what’s about to happe-“

“please coach! don’t kick me out, i’m the captain! what would the team do without me? i’ll get my grade up as soon as possible im-“

“calm down calm down, i’m not going to kick you out, it’s the middle of the season, but unfortunately you won’t be playing the next three games. if your grade is not up by then, then i will drop you. understood?” his coach stated earning a sharp nod by heeseung.

he’s glad he’s still on the team but what’s the point if he can’t play? he’s going to become a joke. the captain that’s a bench warmer. how stupid.

he left the classroom enraged. he knows exactly who did this.

“bro what? what do you mean you ain’t gonna play ?” riki said in disbelief at what his captain just said.

“some snitch told mrs.park that i cheated on the last assignment and coach suspended me for the next three games, and i got detention all week!” sunghoon unknowingly chuckled. heeseung looked at him with a glare.

“what? she got you good, what did you expect hee?” sunghoon kept laughing, making some of the others also laugh silently.

heeseung had nothing to say back, he just rolled his eyes. “tch, whatever.”

nevertheless, you were overjoyed seeing heeseung slouching on the bench. you couldn’t miss this once in a lifetime scenario. obviously you were the cause for it. heeseung asks Isa almost all the time for her notes or to straight up copy her. she willingly let you rat him out after what he did to you.

he can sense how all eyes were on him, but he just tried to block everyone out a focus on the game. he had a poker face on, but deep inside he was irritated . he saw how you were smirking and laughing with your two little friends. you knew what you were doing.

>>

“ahh look who it is, the benchwarmer! “ you said chuckling as you made your way to heeseung.

after the team (barely) won, jake threw an ‘after party’ at his house. even though you don’t normally go to these parties, especially from those boys, you felt like a party would do good with your marvellous mood. something about seeing heeseung’s frowny face made feel over the moon.

“seems like cat got your tongue now huh? dont have anything to say-“

in a blink of an eye you were pulled into a room, heeseung’s fingers wrapped around your neck, pulling your face closer to his.

“what the fuck? heeseung-“

“shut the fuck up.” his hoarse voice caught you off guard. he was actually really mad.

“you think what you did it’s fucking funny? huh? almost getting me kicked out ? “ you’ve never seen him this enraged before. making you almost scared, yet….kinda turned on? no, you hate him, snap out of it! you told yourself yet the wetness in between your legs became hard to ignore.

you didn’t respond. “fuck, you’re so annoying, i can’t fucking stand you. i hate you.” he saw lowly. fuck that was hot.

you spoke before thinking. “then show me.”

not needing to tell him twice, heeseung pulled you completely in. your lips met in a kiss that was anything but gentle, a fierce and consuming clash that spoke longing and raw need.

The kiss deepened, fueled by an unspoken urgency, their mouths exploring each other with a fervor that left y’all breathless. his grip on your neck becoming tighter.

“shit im gonna show you to fucking behave.” he said before pushing you into the bed forcefully. you may have discovered a new kink of yours. watching as he undressed himself and yourself rapidly. feeling his anger through every touch he gave you.

he rubbed through your folds before inserting two fingers aggressively. your body jolted at the sudden move.

“holy shit go softer dumbass.”

“aw you think i give a fuck? suck it up and take it since you think you’re all that.” his fingers pumped faster and faster making it hard for you to answer back to his stupid remarks.

“oh my god..” you tried to pull his hand away before you cum. not wanting to see you orgasm so easily yet.

“just fuck me already heeseung, or is your dick as tiny as your brain?”

heeseung looked darkly at you. that stupid mouth of yours can’t shut up will it?

he retracted his fingers put of you and took his boxers off. wanting nothing more than to prove you wrong.

shit. your eyes went wide at what stood in front of you. saying he was big was an understatement. it was like a zipper for your mouth. how was that thing going to fit inside of you?

“can’t say anything now, can you slut?” he pulled your legs down the mattress to have you at the perfect angle to ram into you.

heeseung ran his til over your folds, teasing his way in. making you aggrevated.

“just put it in for fucks sake!”

“tell me how bad you want it.” you shook your head, no way were you going to beg. no way.

“alright then, i guess im gonna go.” he said letting go of your waist, acting as if he was going to leave.

“okay okay! please fuck me, i want it so bad, i want your big cock so bad heeseung.” heeseung moaned at your words. he didn’t wait any longer and thrusted all of him in you.

you both moaned yet it was more painful for you. you’ve never had something so big inside you before.

“fuck yeah..” he said then grabbing your neck, slightly choking you. your hands went to his biceps, trying to find something to hold on to as the speed he was thrusting in became more hostile.

“fuck me harder, like the asshole you are.” you said in between breaths. heeseung took the challenge and thrusted violently. the skin slapping and wetness of your core could probably be heard in the party outside.

“of course a whore like you would like to be fucked like this.”

before you could respond he pulled out of you earning a desperate groan from you, but then your were flipped, now on all fours and before you knew it he was back in you again. gripping your hip with one hand while he pulled your hair on the other.

“such a tight pussy, you probably fantasized about this am i right?” he said in your ear. you shook your head through your moan.

“in your dreams lee, in your fucking dreams. fuck you.”

“i’m quite literally doing that.” chuckling, he let go of your hair and instead gripped your other hip, going in deeper, nudging your cervix literally driving you to an edge.

“fuck i’m cumming.” you cried out. never has an orgasm felt like this. heeseung was on edge as well, feeling you clench around his dick did it for him.

your climax rose over you, making you fall into the pillow while heeseung kept thrusting until his own organs came over him, pulling out and releasing his white ropes all over your back.

tiredly, he laid besides you in the strangers bed, not knowing what to say now.

you turned to him, smirking. “i think i may hate you even more now.”

[golden-cherry]

deal - cl16 (21/?)

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader

Series Summary: Your whole life has gone to shit. Your boyfriend broke up with you, you just lost your job and the Monegasque, who suddenly stands in your doorway, claims that it’s his apartment.

Chapter Summary: The truth comes under purple skies.

Warnings: angst, but mostly tooth rotting fluff because you deserve it

Word Count: 3.4k

series masterlist

previous part

A/N: a little late happy birthday to me! sorry for the wait. I love you.

Although you keep your eyes closed, you know that it is still dark outside.

The air in the room is cool against your face, while your tired body is kept comfortably warm under the heavy comforter. It is just as warm against the free, uncovered parts of your body as Charles' soft skin.

His arm is wrapped around your middle, his fingers are tightly intertwined with yours and his thumb strokes gentle circles over your hand. A tender, loving gesture that you're not sure whether it's meant to calm your nerves or his own. 

You haven't changed your positions in bed since you fell asleep pressed tightly together a few hours ago. Charles's chest is still pressed against your back and if you were to focus on it, you could certainly feel his heart beating hard and steady. But you don't. Your thoughts revolve around breathing as normally as possible so that it still looks like you're asleep. 

You don't want to be awake. 

Being awake would involve thinking, and you definitely don't want to think about the last few days. You don't want to think about how Charles told you that you would jump into bed with Lando at the next opportunity. You don't want to think about Raphael coming to your front door last night and calling you a whore. And you don't want to be reminded that Charles jumped to your side and defended you without so much as batting an eye.

All you want right now is to lie here, in his strong arms, wrapped in his scent and warmth. Deep down, you know you can't be angry with him. Lando's words flit through your head again and again about how you both want to protect each other, and even though you've only known each other for a few days, you can tell Charles so well that it's exactly this part of him that makes him who he is.

But you still don't know why he treated you like that.

You breathe in deeply, take in his scent - a mixture of sandalwood, peppermint and a smell that you can only describe as Charles - and press your face into the soft pillow. Although you had been furious with him, you had missed his closeness over the last few days. 

The thumb that has been tenderly drawing figures on your hand pauses.

"I'm sorry." Charles' voice is little more than a whisper against your shoulder blade. As his warm breath brushes over you, your muscles tighten. "No apology in this world can make up for what I did to you. I betrayed your trust, hurt you, and left you thinking I didn't care about you." When you don't answer him, he continues. "I am so incredibly sorry. And I won't ask for your forgiveness or kindness, because I don't deserve it. I don't deserve you. And I'm sorry I couldn't be better for you."

Your heart beats so fast against your ribcage that you fear it will break your bones and jump out of your chest. His touch feels like your skin is burning. When you open your eyes, you see purple clouds in the morning sky through the window. 

Carefully, you turn in his arms, whereupon his embrace loosens a little, but his arm remains on your hip. His eyes are closed, as if he doesn't dare to look into your face. His eyebrows are furrowed and there are a few wrinkles between them that you would love to smooth out with your fingers.

You decide to run your fingers over his bare shoulders. His muscles twitch under your fingertips. "Why did you do it?" Charles remains silent, so you tentatively place your hand against his cheek. You feel his stubble scratch your skin as he exhales deeply, as if he hasn't taken a decent breath in a long time.

He opens his eyes and there is an anxious gleam in the otherwise beautiful green. His gaze searches yours as he nuzzles his face against your hand. "I was jealous."

Jealous?

A small glimmer of hope flares up inside you. Maybe everything you've experienced together - the viewpoint, your movie night, the bookstore, the tiramisu - is based on something other than friendship. On something more. Maybe there was more to every conversation, every look and every smile than just the friendship you nailed down to protect your heart. Maybe you were just talking past each other the whole time. Maybe –

"I was jealous of how well you got on with Lando. I thought that if you got to know each other better and became more than just friends, then we wouldn't be friends anymore. I thought -" He pauses for a moment. "I couldn't bear it if I lost you because of your relationship."

You try to suppress the punch in the pit of your stomach and swallow the frog in your throat. "You hurt me and pushed me away because you didn't want to get hurt yourself?" Your heart breaks a little for him. You finally smooth out the wrinkles between his eyebrows with your thumb. His arm wraps around you tighter and presses you together. His fingers stroke your back and goose bumps spread across your body. 

That's exactly what Lando said. That Charles pushes the people he cares about away to protect himself. Something you can well understand, after all, you were planning to do the same to him. Only not so drastically. 

But Lando also told you something else about the Monegasque. "But that's not all, is it?" An image flickers in your mind's eye of Raphael holding out his hand to introduce himself to Charles. "You didn't just want to protect yourself. Or am I wrong, Charles Leclerc?"

As you say his name, a shiver jerks through his body, as if he's suddenly cold, and his hand freezes against your spine. "You're not." His tone is cooler, more distant than it was a few moments ago, and the tension in the room is palpable despite the purple clouds and morning calm as you place your hand on his bare chest. His heart is beating fast and strong.

"I - I think we both rushed into this friendship far too quickly." You try to put as much warmth into your whisper as you can, even though deep down your heart has caught quite a tear. "We've known each other for five days. And so much has happened in that time that takes some friends years. Our trust in each other went from zero to one hundred." You run your finger over his collarbone, your gaze following him.

Panting, he sucks air into his lungs at your touch. "What do you suggest?"

You purse your lips. "Maybe - maybe we should get to know each other better first. Get to know each other properly so that this doesn't happen again. So that our living together is easier."

Charles tightens his grip around your middle, his legs tangle with yours. "Living together? Does that mean you're staying with me?"

You nod slightly, but grab your arm with your hand to pull away from him. Something flits across his face, but as quickly as it came, it's gone again as you place his hand between your faces on the pillows. "But maybe a little distance will do us good. So we don't mess this up."

His fingers interlace with yours. "I'll do everything I can to make this work."

"That makes two of us," you smile, missing his touch on your body. You miss the warmth pulsing through your veins under your skin. But it's the right thing to do. At least that's what you try to tell yourself. You take a deep breath. "I - I'm unemployed, by the way." You look down at your hands. "I was fired from this magazine before we met. I'm looking for a new job so that I can continue to live in Monaco, because my savings won't last forever. That's why I'm so grateful to you for standing up for me with Joris. About the rent. I can't thank you enough for that."

"But you don't have to," he replies quietly. "Friends help each other. They're there for each other. I can understand why you didn't tell me. Nobody likes to talk about the fact that they've recently lost their job." 

"Thank you," you whisper back. You feel a weight fall from your shoulders. You suddenly find it easier to breathe. But now it's something else that's plaguing your thoughts.

And no one but Charles can give you the answer. "Can you please explain to me what happened yesterday? With - with Raphael?"

The Monegasque briefly lets go of your hand so that he can play with your fingers. He doesn't look at you. "Do you remember the night we watched Cars together?"

You nod. How could you forget that night? The wine, the movie, the flirting that apparently wasn't flirting. Ouch. 

"We talked about Formula One and how you used to watch it with your grandfather when Michael Schuhmacher drove for Ferrari." His gaze is literally glued to your fingers. "When we first met, I told you that my work had something to do with cars, and I wasn't lying."

You raise an eyebrow in confusion. If he's a mechanic or engineer for one of the racing teams, that woiuld explain why he has to travel so much for work. "Is that where all the cool photos on your phone come from? Because you fly across the globe with Formula 1 to work on the cars?"

Your flatmate purses his lips. "I don't work on the cars. I - I drive them." He licks his lips once. "I'm a Formula One driver for Scuderia Ferrari."

"Don't fuck with me," you reply, wanting to pull your fingers out of his grasp. But he holds on to them and when he lifts his gaze and looks you in the eyes, you know he's telling the truth. And his confession makes you see the last few days from a different perspective. 

The conversation between Charles and Joris, shortly after he suddenly appeared in the apartment, pops up in your mind. "When we met, that night - you were on the phone with Joris. You said something about headlines."

He nods slightly. "A few weeks ago, the season ended and Annika and I broke up. I stayed away from here as long as I could because I didn't want to be confronted with it. And when I got to my apartment for emergencies, there you were. With a valid tenancy agreement. I couldn't just throw you out the door. You could have gone public and then it would have made the headlines. Something like "Charles Leclerc throws poor woman out of rented apartment". It was a risk I couldn't take." He furrows his eyebrows again, but this time you hold back.

"You have a nutritionist."

Again he nods. "For the races, I have to follow a strict diet to make the car go faster. Unfortunately, pasta and thick sandwiches aren't part of it, so please don't tell him." 

Fragments of the last few days appear one after the other in your mind's eye, which you try to sort out and work through. "The bistro you went to after the bookshop had already closed, hadn't it?"

"Yes. But when do you ever have a Formula One driver on your doorstep who needs two sandwiches?" He shrugs. "One photo and we've had our dinner."

You lick your tongue over your lips and you don't miss the way Charles' eyes twitch to your mouth. "We went everywhere in my car. Why?"

"You've seen my car." He's referring to the fancy Ferrari in the parking garage. "With its stripes, it's not exactly inconspicuous. Especially since everyone knows the car is mine." He runs his thumb over the side of your index finger. "As soon as the car rolls down the street, everyone knows it's me. And everyone takes photos of it. I couldn't risk you getting caught up in all this because of a stupid car. And especially not because you couldn't choose it until now. Your sweet tin can was the only way we could get around the city together without attracting attention."

You clench your jaw. "The meetings in Italy. What about it?"

"The headquarters are there, in Maranello. Before the winter break, the team wanted to get together again and discuss what went wrong this season and what we can improve."

"And you could just leave like that?" you ask him.

He shakes his head. "Not really. But in my opinion, there wasn't much to talk about either. The season was a throwaway." He shrugs his shoulders. "I was actually a little relieved when Lando called and asked me to go home."

So you were right. The Brit did call Charles. "And what did he say?" 

"Exactly what I needed to hear." He smiles slightly. "He threw a lot of swear words at me and made it clear that I'd be the stupidest idiot in the world if I screwed up this friendship."

You don't know what to do with this information. The fact that Lando called Charles and made a slug out of him doesn't bother you much, because the Monegasque needed the push. But there's also something about the fact that Charles didn't come up with the idea of straightening things out himself. That one of his friends had to step in for you first so that he would get off his butt and stand up for this friendship. That Lando -

"What about Lando? And Pierre? And Kika? Are they part of Formula One too?"

Charles purses his lips into a thin line. "Lando and Pierre are also drivers. Kika is a model."

Bile rises in your gullet as you release your hand from his and turn onto your back, closing your eyes. Everyone knew, they even work in the same field, and no one thought to let you in on it. The whole thing could have gone down the drain. People could have recognized you both, taken photos of you and spread the word. 

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner. I -" Charles exhales. "I was just scared."

"Scared? Of what?"

"My job - my name - brings a lot with it. A lot of good things, like seeing the world, getting to know cultures and not having to worry about things like money. But there are also negative things, like a lot of pressure, fake friends, no privacy." He also turns onto his back. "I don't want you to choose something you don't want because of my name. I thought - I thought if we stayed in our little bubble, our little world, that - I don't know. It was just nice to have someone as a friend who wanted to be friends with me because I'm Charles. And not because I'm Charles Leclerc."

You have to smile. "Actually, I'm only friends with you so that I can live with you and save on rent."

"Haha."

You clasp your hands behind your head. "I can understand, I think. That you have to be careful who you surround yourself with. And that there are a lot of people who only use you because you're you. It sounds very lonely."

Charles snorts softly. "It can definitely be lonely."

"Then let me assure you that I don't want to be friends with you because of your money or your name." 

"But?"

"Do you really need reasons?"

"It certainly wouldn't hurt my ego," you can practically hear his grin. 

"All right," you reply. "I want to be friends with you because you're kind and considerate of your friends' feelings. Because you trusted me with your favorite place, even though you didn't know me. Because you introduced me to your friends because you thought it was inevitable anyway if our friendship strengthened." You take a deep breath and exhale. "I want to be friends with you because you're funny and make me laugh. Because you have a big heart. Because -" 

A feeling bubbles up inside you. You've felt it before - the day after your movie night, when you were reviewing the evening. In the not entirely innocent dream you had about Charles. And when you shared the bed after the bookshop.

It's warm, like a warm blanket, strong like a good hug and bright like Charles' eyes when the sun shines on his face. Charles is not just your roommate. Or your friend. Charles is so much more. Charles is your home.

Before you can complete the sentence, the Monegasque interrupts you. "That's good. That's good enough for me, thank you." He smiles. "It's nice to have you as a friend. Even if I don't deserve it, the way I've treated you."

"Mm-hmm." 

"Maybe you should sleep on it one more night and then decide if you really want it. There's so much more that comes with a friendship with me." When you yawn, he has to laugh. "You see? Maybe you're not even able to think straight right now. And then I push you into a friendship that you don't even want."

"I'm sure," you reply tiredly and you notice how your eyes get heavier. 

"But -"

Before he can finish his sentence, you reach for his hand and interlace his fingers with yours. You try to ignore the fact that this makes your heart beat faster. "I'm sure of it. Believe me." 

When you gently squeeze his fingers twice, he replies with the same gesture. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

"Then it's a good thing you don't have to find out," you smile and as you yawn again, Charles pulls you closer to him. Like a magnet, you slide across the bed towards him, unable to resist as your face finds its place against the crook of his neck. 

He lets go of your hand, but only to wrap his arm around you. His hand rests on the bare skin of your hip, while his other hand pulls your leg over him so that you're half lying on top of him. You are enveloped by him, fully and completely, and as you place your hand on his bare chest, you feel his heartbeat under your fingertips. 

You try to convince yourself that it's not beating for you, but as you snuggle even closer to him and your lips touch the soft skin on his neck, you feel it skip a beat. But maybe you're just imagining it. 

"I'll be better from now on," he whispers and tentatively presses a kiss to your forehead. Goosebumps spread all over your body, but not because you're cold like he thinks, which is why his arm presses you even tighter against him. "I don't want there to be another moment when you doubt how important you are to me, mon amour."

"You can teach me a little French," you reply. "Then you can hide less from me if I speak your mother tongue too," you joke. 

Charles feels your smile on his neck and he is glad that you can't see the blush on his face. 

"Anything you want. I'll go to the other side of the world for you if I have to."

"But not until tomorrow, all right?" You gently caress his chest with your fingertips and Charles draws in a sharp breath. "Now it's time to sleep. And don't you dare steal my blanket in the night."

Charles would love to pull you on top of him, kiss you and promise you that you're safe with him and that he won't let anything happen to you. But he holds back, just lets his fingers dance over your skin. 

He promises in the purple morning light. "Deal."

next part

[nyctophicbtch]

Outsiders - Neteyam

[ Neteyam x Metkayina!reader ]

Summary: Despite your uninterests in getting to know the Omatikaya guests, you’d somehow managed to capture the attention of the eldest brother and Neteyam messed up by doing the one thing your brother told him not to. Plus Lo’ak being the captain of the ship.

Warnings: none

Word Count: 2,033

Just as expected, there were no particular signs of interest your siblings found in you when Omatikayas showed up on the shore, but you’d be lying if you said you weren’t curious upon their arrival.

“She will show up.” You faintly heard Rotxo quietly say to Ao’nung as you approached the commotion.

A glimpse of your father and mother speaking to an Olo'eyktan had you pushing through the crowd to get a better view. You could see your sister already examining the outsiders alongside your brother, being fairly kinder than he was.

“See,” remarked Rotxo as he spotted you making your way over to them.

Their banter over you was not uncommon. It never bothered you and you could care less with what they were whispering about now when you knew they had no ill intentions. Instead, you shifted your attention to the family standing before you and eyed each of them individually.

The littlest one was hiding behind her mother’s leg, the other girl looked exhausted and the younger boy had his eyes glancing at your sister too often to your annoyance.

You glanced at the eldest just as he did too, noticing you for the first time. The corners of his lips curved upwards to form a subtle smile in an attempt to seem friendly, which others might have missed but your brothers didn’t.

It wasn’t the smartest friendly attempt, considering how it only deepened the distaste of your brother into sneers and scowls.

“If he hasn’t already, he’s going to take interest in you,” whispered Ao’nung, though he didn’t seem pleased to know that. “You’re alluring. Stay away.”

“I won’t even do anything!”

“Exactly.”

“Shh,” interrupted Tsireya.

You shot a glare towards your brother in annoyance. He knew you wouldn’t even be interested in seeing them, let alone talking to them, yet somehow he was so sure that they’d approach you on their own

“They won’t even care, Ao’nung.” You had been so busy furiously thinking of arguments against your brother that the call of your name spooked you.

“They will teach you our ways,” your father said, earning immediate complaints from your brother whilst Tsireya obliged and wasted no time in leading the guests.

There was no doubt that your sister could handle them, and your siblings wouldn’t expect you to be interested in teaching them either. And they weren’t wrong. You’d prefer entertaining the kids running around the sand than guiding them.

“Where’s your other sister?” asked Kiri when she noticed your absence.

Neteyam hung back with Lo’ak as their parents busied themselves gazing at the village. The place still felt foreign to them, and even more so when they knew they’d be staying here.

“Doing something else. She’s not used to outsiders.” Tsireya did not stop to reply, the words coming off her tongue as if she had practiced it a thousand times.

Lo’ak raised his brows at the mention of another sister. He was too caught up fuming at Rotxo and Ao’nung to even notice you, but he doubted any of them were used to outsiders either.

“The quiet one.” Neteyam replied to his unspoken question. “The interesting one.”

“Go anywhere near her and we’ll tie you up with your baby tail.”

“Relax, she’s all yours.” Neteyam held his hands up in defense. He didn’t understand why they were getting so defensive over you although he barely even looked your way. Lo’ak was ogling at Tsireya and they didn’t seem too bothered.

Something was off about you, especially when you’d so rarely make yourself visible to any of them for days. He would’ve expected the daughter of the Olo'eyktan to be difficult to miss, especially when they all expected you to help teach them the Metkayina ways. And to be truthful, you just enjoyed doing your own thing that does not involve the outsiders.

“Father’s expecting all of us to join them.” Your annoyance was clearly visible. You weren’t even needed. They could handle this on their own without you, and your father knew that.

“Fine.”

-

You left them alone for two minutes and somehow they were already taunting each other when you came back. Your sister was called to help mother, much to your dismay, and you were putting back the saddles of the ilu.

“Lo’ak,” you heard Neteyam warn as you returned to the group behind Ao’nung, giving some distance.

When Lo’ak approached and flexed his fingers around, you knew what was coming before the punch actually landed on your brother’s face.

“Rotxo, stop!” you yelled, pulling him back by his hand. He shook you off easily, dismissing your warnings.

You looked to Neteyam who sighed, as if he’d witness this too many times. The older brother easily beat up Ao’nung and his friends in Lo’ak’s defense, scolding Lo’ak afterwards.

“Come on,” Ao’nung waited expectantly for you to follow them. He sensed your hesitance and saw the way your eyes roamed back and forth between them and the Omatikayas, and finally decided to leave without you.

“In my defense, you got to show off in front of her,” said Lo’ak groggily, nodding to you.

“Excuse my brother and his unrefined mouth.” Neteyam received a weak punch for that and the tiniest smile from you. He didn’t comprehend why, but Neteyam smiled at your amusement and from then, the annoyance you felt from having to teach them disappeared. Just slightly.

“Do I have to face dad?”

“Yes. Until then keep out of trouble. I mean it Lo’ak.”

It was safe to say Neteyam was impressed that his brother managed to not utter a single provoking word until he had to face their father.

“Hey.” Neteyam spun to the sound of your voice. It was nearly sundown and you were standing outside his room. “Sorry about my brother and his friends. I can still teach you how to control your breathing if you’d like.”

The mindful part of him knew he should go find his brother who hadn’t been visible for a long while, but the selfish part of him allowed his interests to take over. And this time, he allowed something for himself for once. Besides, Lo’ak should stay out of trouble after his last encounter with dad.

“Yeah. Sure.”

You nodded towards the shore and Neteyam jumped off his marui to follow you. It took great effort to avoid bumping into any of the children running around and splashing water.

“The secret to increasing your lungs’ limit is to slow your breathing and allow them to slowly adapt,” you said, pushing him back by the chest with both hands so that he sat down.

“Breathe from here.” You were only showing him parts of his chest and abdomen, but he couldn’t help the increasing pace of his heart as your hands felt around his chest. His eyes locked on your face the entire time in an attempt to focus on what you were saying, but the words that came out from your mouth sounded foreign to his brain.

“Your heart is beating really fast.” You frowned. “Slow down.”

Neteyam nodded, but when you felt his heart keep its frantic pace, you sighed and removed your hands from his chest.

“We’ll try this again tomorrow with my sister.”

-

Neteyam did the one thing Ao’nung told him not to do. He found himself coming up with excuses to see you and he was just about subtle enough that even Tuk noticed.

“I just made peace. This time I think you’re going to be the one to mess things up.”

“I’m not doing anything.” They both knew it was a lie and Neteyam was fully aware of that.

“Can you show the way to our marui? They all look the same,” Lo’ak mockingly mimicked the conversation he overheard between you and his brother yesterday. Lo’ak was basking in his enjoyment.

It was something unlikely of Neteyam and something expected of Lo’ak, which made the whole situation even more amusing to the younger brother.

“Ow.” Lo’ak swatted away the hand that hit him in the back of his head.

“You’re being annoying. Stop.”

“Stop being a wuss and make a move. It’s her birthday.” The look Neteyam gave was out of pure disbelief.

“I’m not you who falls in love with every pretty girl you see.”

“I do not do that.”

“Yes you do. Now go annoy someone else. I’m going to see if mom found our gift.” Neteyam pushed the weight of Lo’ak’s arm away from his shoulder, distancing himself before walking the other direction.

“Actually, you already gave her one.” The words from his brother’s mouth caused Neteyam to freeze in place and turn his head to look at him.

“What?”

“You gave her a pretty sea bouquet with a sweet little note.” If he could, Neteyam would tear the smug look off of his brother’s face.

“Kurkung.” Asshole. “What did the note say?”

“You’re going to have to ask her yourself. She actually shows up when you’re around.”

Happy birthday, tanhì

- Neteyam

You somehow doubted that this was actually from Neteyam. He didn’t seem like the type to show romantic gestures to someone he met only a few weeks ago. You were surprised that he was even interested in you at all and it had you flushing like an idiot.

“What’s got you so smiley?” asked Rotxo, snatching the note from your hand before you could reply.

“Hey!”

“That bastard. I thought mom got you that.” Your brother gestured to the bouquet with a glare. You had no idea why your brother and his friends were so against you and Neteyam. It wasn’t like either of you showed any interest in each other. Well, not until now.

“Lay off, Rotxo. It’s her birthday,” you heard Ao’nung’s voice before he entered the marui and stole the note from Rotxo’s hands. Your brother’s hand ruffled your hair in a way he knew you hated. “Happy birthday, hì’i kxetse.”

Happy birthday, small tail.

You shoved his hand away in annoyance, the glare you sent looking more playful than menacing. The pushes turned into fights and a full race to the waters.

“Guys-“ Rotxo never got to finish what he was saying since the two of you were already running through the poor villagers that minded their own business, occasionally bumping into some of them.

Ao’nung was grinning at his expected victory when you tackled him from behind. The rest of the way was filled with tripping, pulling, and your attempts at kicking him away from you.

You were nearly there. Aonung would often beat you most of the time, but on lucky days, you claimed the victory.

“Woah!” Before you could stop yourself, you slammed into Neteyam, knocking the both of you over to the waters.

Water filled your lungs quicker than you could comprehend and it seemed like Neteyam did the same since he was coughing a fit once the two of you resurfaced.

“Sorry,” you mumbled an apology in between coughs.

“Looks like lover boy helped you win, little sis.” Ao’nung appeared from behind you. Your brother did nothing, but you hit him on his forehead - which felt like a weak nudge to him - for his mere existence. “I’m gonna fetch Rotxo. I’m still keeping my eye on you, forest boy.”

Once Ao’nung was out of earshot you were quick to approach him and apologize for your brother’s hostility. “Sorry for him. I liked your gift, though. It was lovely.”

Neteyam knew it wasn’t really his gift, but he couldn’t help but play along. Lo’ak was never going to let this go and he knew it. He was “forever in Lo’ak’s debt”.

“It’s alright. Happy birthday again.”

You smiled at Neteyam, leaning in to put a hand on his jaw and he hoped you couldn’t feel the speed of his heartbeat increasing as you gave a peck to his cheek. It was supposed to be him, yet you were the one whose face flushed and quickly swam away to find your ilu.

Lo’ak just found the entire thing amusing.

He raised a brow suggestively as Neteyam spotted him standing by the shoreline, blowing a kiss his way, which was responded with water splashed to his face.

“You’re welcome.”

kurkung [ˈkuɾ.kuŋ] n. asshole (vulgar)

tanhì [tan.ˈhɪ] n. star, bioluminescent freckle

hì’i [ˈhɪ.ʔi] adj. small, little (in size)

kxetse [ˈk’ɛ.t͡sɛ] n. tail

[lemmetreatya]

kpop fanboy!eren who runs a famous stan account for his favourite kpop group — but mostly only famous himself because most fans stan him instead

kpop fanboy!eren who regularly posts dance videos or makes fan based tiktoks about the group. kpop fanboy!eren whos even been noticed by some of the groups on twitter when they do occasional menpas.

kpop fanboy!eren who makes a group chat for a meet up at a concert for his favourite group in his city. kpop fanboy!eren who adds you into the chat, unknowing of how cute you are. he doesn’t realise at first — being chat admin comes with it’s responsibilities and for awhile he’s unaware of who you are.

but one day kpop fanboy!eren checks your account out of curiosity and it’s absolutely star struck by how pretty you are. kpop fanboy!eren who dms you privately to get to know you. kpop fanboy!eren who no longer talks in the chat but never fails to text you throughout the day.

“fuck, you’re much cuter over the screen.”

kpop fanboy!eren‘s voice is deep as you cover your giggle with the back of your hand. why exactly was he facetiming you again?

kpop fanboy!eren who’s chats are suggestive despite his constant tweets about turning down advances from other fangirls. kpop fanboy!eren who asks if youd like to meet up a few hours before the kpop concert.

kpop fanboy!eren who takes you out for a meal at the kbbq place not too far from the venue.

“damn, you’re even cuter in person” he says as he hugs you hello.

kpop fanboy!eren who tells you to slip with him into his section of the concert venue so that you’re closer to the stage. kpop fanboy!eren who tells you to come with him to the toilets real quick before the concert starts — something about one of his contacts flying out.

however, once you step out of the arean seating area, kpop fanboy!eren softly leans you up against the wall of the hallway and you have to ask him what’s wrong.

“can i kiss you right now?” he asks, breath hitched and hands warm on your waist.

“what happened to your contacts? they’re okay now?” you muse although you can feel your heart picking up at his advances.

“they were always fine.” he rolls his eyes. “just wanted an excuse to get with you alone.”

and you figure that was the idea but you didn’t want to jump to conclusions. regardless, youre leaning in first so that he can get the message. kpop fanboy!eren takes the initiative and lightly kisses you as he meets you half way.

but the kiss doesn’t stay innocent for along and soon the both of you are gripping at each others faces and pressing into the other.

“okay, now i need to go to the bathroom.” he breaths and you understand what he’s getting at.

kpop fanboy!eren ends up fucking you over the sink in the communal toilets. his moans are so loud, garbling on about how he’s been waiting so long for this.

every time someone accidentally steps in, you have to abashedly cover your face because most of stan tweet were literally at this show. but kpop fanboy!eren didnt care about who saw, and that aroused you even more because he had more to lose than you did.

the both of you hear the thundering opening of the kpop act coming on stage and you want to get angry at the man but you cant! he was digging you out so good that maybe missing just the first few minutes werent so bad.

“ren…ren…t-the show.” you whine with the back of your head leaning against the mirror.

kpop fanboy!eren doesnt let up — he just continues fucking into your wet cunt.

“fuck the show. right now…im f-fucking…fucking you.”

kpop fanboy!eren pulls out at the last minute and ends up cumming onto your concert fit. you have in mind to be mad at him but the sparkling glow in his eyes and the way he still reaches in for a kiss changes your mind.

both you and kpop fanboy!eren go back to the arena area to watch the rest of the concert and you enjoy it regardless. you just both make sure to mute your usernames on the timeline once it’s finished.

[just-jordie-things]

cinnamon girl - kamo choso

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ 10k follower event special! ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ word count: 17.3k warnings: i think none? summary: the brothers who are your neighbors across the hall settle inside of your heart as if there had been a space inside of it left just for them. more info: neighbors to friends to lovers. super cute big brother/little brother choso and yuji dynamic <3

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

[ there’s things i wanna say to you, but i’ll just let you live // like if you hold me without hurting me, you’ll be the first who ever did // there’s things i wanna talk about, but better not to give // but if you hold me without hurting me, you’ll be the first who ever did ]

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

When she’d first met her neighbors across the hall, (y/n) hadn’t known they were her neighbors.  At the time she’d still been new to the building, having only lived there for under a month, and she hadn’t quite found the time (or courage) to introduce herself to the other residents on her floor.  Going door to door seemed corny, and she figured over time they’d see each other in passing, but it appeared her floor was rather quiet.  Maybe they all worked at odd hours, or from home and never left their apartment, but either way, she’d barely met anyone in the building.  

Save for the uppity property manager and a few of the maintenance crew.  Neither of which she took much pleasure in interacting with.  Neither of which provided much room for forming friendships.  

Although one of the maintenance guys who fixed her broken dishwasher would have been more than happy to accept her number, as he’d tried multiple times to leave his personal number in the case of any other ‘emergencies’ as he called them.  Now she tried to DIY her way out of any issue the small apartment gave her, just so she could avoid having him sent to her again.

But a month into her lease, she’s still a stranger to what feels like the entire complex, and she’d gone to the mail room to check her mailbox.  As usual it was empty, and despite having hoped to make friends when she’d moved to the area, it was a bit of a relief to not have to talk to anyone right now.

That is, until a small person came running into the room.  Or, half running half waddling on his chubby legs.  When the child wasn’t immediately followed by an adult, (y/n) found herself panicking.

“Uh, hello,” She greeted, with painful awkwardness.

So she wasn’t that great with kids, sue her.  She’d never had to interact with small children before, with no kids in her extended family, she didn’t exactly have the experience.  Nonetheless, the little boy in the footie pajama tiger costume looked up at her with wide eyes and a wider smile.

There still didn’t seem to be an adult in the area, and her panic kicked up a few notches.

“Is your mommy or daddy around?” She asked, wondering if she needed to put the mail away and notify the proper authorities of this missing child.

Surely someone was missing him- he was downright adorable.  With the brightest brown eyes she’s ever seen, a toothy smile that displayed his missing front tooth, and the striped tail of his tiger onesie being wrung around in his little hands- (y/n) had never felt baby fever before, but she imagined it had to be akin to the tightening heartstrings in her chest.

“No,” The boy shakes his head, most of his body following the movement in a small sway.  “I don’t have them” 

Okay, now she was going to have to do a breathing exercise before she called the police, so that she could remain calm until this missing child was returned home safely.

With a slow exhale, she tucks her mail into her purse before kneeling down before him.  It takes her a few moments to try and find the right thing to say, this kid looked no older than five and she just wasn’t equipped to strike up a conversation with a child so young about where their home was.  She tries to speak calmly and slowly.

“Are you lost, little tiger?” 

Mentally, she cringes at how awkward her voice sounds when she’s trying to be approachable.  Does it come across as creepy? Fuck, she hopes not.

But the kid giggles, and shakes his head.

“No, I’m not lost!” He squeals it out with that adorable little kid delight, as if he’s trying to fight a fit of giggles.  “I live here! With Choso-nii!” 

So he lived with his brother.  That explained the no parents thing… sort of.  At least enough to calm her racing heart down a bit.

“And where is Choso-nii?” She asks next, praying that at any moment this mystery brother would appear and scoop up this kid before she had to strain through much more interaction.  Then again, she hoped no other adults would have to witness the embarrassing way she spoke to kids.

“I don’t know,” The boy shrugs his shoulders.  “We were playing hide and seek.  He hasn’t found me yet!” 

(y/n’s) eyes widen with alarm before she realizes that she should probably keep her expression as neutral as possible, so as not to worry the child.  It settles back into a nervous smile before she nods in slow understanding.

“You play hide and seek… out here…?” She asks slowly.

The boy holds both of his hands up to his mouth as he giggles.  If she wasn’t so anxious about him being all alone, she would’ve melted at the adorable and squeaky sound.

“Nooo,” He whines out playfully.  “I was trying to find a really good hiding spot!” He declares.

Again, (y/n) nods, and gives him a small laugh.

“Well buddy, the mail room isn’t a great spot.  It’s all open, see?” SHe gestures around her to the space they’re standing in.  “He’s sure to find you right away.  Did you leave your apartment?” 

The boy nods back at her, but his attention starts to stray as he begins to look around, probably for a better hiding spot.

“Does your brother know you left?” 

This time he shakes his head.

(y/n) huffs, and places her hands on her knees.

“What’s your name, kiddo?” 

“Itadori Yuji!” The boy declares, his attention back on her as a proud grin covers his face.  “I’m five!” He adds, holding out his hand with all five fingers stretched out on display.  This time when (y/n) giggles, it’s genuine.

“Itadori Yuji, I’m (y/n),” She introduces softly before tilting her head at him.  “I live in the building too.  Do you think I could take you back to your brother?” 

Yuji frowns.

“But then my turn will be over” 

She’s quick on her feet to come up with an excuse to take him back home where he belongs.

“Well… I’m sure I could convince your brother to give you a re-do.  Since I messed up your game and all,” She suggests.  “Do you think then it would be okay?” 

Yuji thinks about it for a minute, humming and looking around the mailroom some more.  Once he realizes there’s not a good hiding spot anyways, he gives in, and nods his head.

“Okay!” He agrees, and (y/n) smiles back at him as she stands up again.

“Do you know which apartment is yours, Itadori Yuji?” 

“I know which button to push in the elevator!” He tells her, and she figures that’s a good start for now.  If knocking on every door is what it took to get him back to his brother, she’d have to accept that.

“Alright then, let’s get to it” 

As the pair make their way to the elevator, Yuji pulls the hood of his pajamas over his head.  It’s got fluffy little ears to complete the whole costume, and (y/n) can’t help the smile that takes over at the adorable sight.

Yuji’s excited about pushing the buttons in the elevator.  He expertly pushes the one with the number for his floor- or at least she hopes it’s the right one- before he pushes the one to close the doors.

“Choso-nii always lets me push the buttons” He tells her matter of factly.

“I can see why.  You’ve practically mastered it,” She teases in response, and he seems to take it as the highest form of compliment.  It’s then that she takes notice of the floor he’d chosen.  “I think you and I live on the same floor, Itadori Yuji” 

“Really?” The boy’s eyes light up as if he’d just learned his best friend lived so close- despite them still being strangers in her book.  It makes her chuckle as she nods her head at him.

“Really” She affirms.

The first neighbor she meets, and it’s a rowdy five year old boy.  Oh well, it could’ve been worse, right?

“That’s so cool! I can’t wait to tell Choso-nii!” Yuji bounces with his giddiness, and it has (y/n) chuckling again.

Even if his brother had lost track of the kid, it was clear that Yuji adored him with how much he brought up his name.  (y/n) only hoped that when she returned him, Choso-nii lived up to the first impression his little brother was creating.

“He doesn’t really have any friends,” 

Yuji immediately begins to overshare, and now (y/n’s) trying to stifle her laughter as he babbles on about his older brother.  He’s chatty for a five year old sharing an elevator ride with a stranger, but (y/n) didn’t mind.  The less she had to make awkward small talk, the better.

“But that’s just ce-bause he works a lot.  He works really late too.  Sometimes past my bedtime.  But he doesn’t get in trouble ce-bause he’s a grown up and I’m just a kid.  But when I’m a grown up I’m gonna stay up past my bedtime, too!” 

A little chuckle slips past her lips just as the elevator dings, and the doors slide open again.  Yuji steps out and happily leads the way down the hall.  (y/n) hopes his confidence is based in his memory on where he lives.

“He’s really nice though.  He should have more friends.  But he has me!” 

“Is that so?” (y/n) giggles softly as Yuji begins to skip down the hall.  

They’ve almost approached her apartment, and her panic begins to crawl back in.  Does he really live up here? Does he really live in this building? When he finally plants himself in front of a door, she prays to whoever’s up there that his brother is on the other side.

Glancing behind her to see her own door there, she swallows the lump in her throat.  This kid lived right across the hall from her? Her brows are pulled into a pinch, and she’s debating on scooping Yuji up and calling the police to find his proper address, because what are the odds of that? 

Maybe she was just paranoid, but she’s on the brink of reaching out to the boy when the door in front of them swings open.

Oh wow, is the first thought on her mind, and she’s lucky her throat went too dry for her to accidentally let them slip off her tongue, too.

The man that stood in the doorway couldn’t have been more than a couple years older than her- which she wasn’t expecting- but more surprisingly, he’s the most handsome man she’s ever laid her eyes on.  

With a tall stature and broad shoulders, he nearly took up the entire doorway with his body.  He was wearing a hoodie and sweats, but she could tell that he was well built under his clothes.  From his size alone, she could conclude that, but there was also a certain aura about him that told her he was strong.  Not to mention, with fair skin and dark hair swept into two messy buns, he was just so pretty she couldn’t tear her eyes off of him.  There was a thin black line tattooed over the bridge of his nose and across his cheekbones that stood out on his pale skin, and she stared at it too long to be deemed appropriate, but she just couldn’t help herself.  He was the most mesmerizing person she’s ever seen.

She’s stunned so thoroughly that she just stands there with her lips sealed and her eyes blinking wide.

Yuji, on the other hand, is overwhelmingly delighted.

“Choso-nii!” He cheers, leaping towards his brother and clinging onto the hem of his sweatshirt.

“I was just going to come look for you, booger,” Choso finally speaks and (y/n’s) struck with a mixture of relief from the confirmation that this was Yuji’s proper home, and a sudden heat in her chest from hearing his deep voice.

The man places a hand on top of Yuji’s head, smushing down the ears on his hood as he tilts his head back so he could stare down at him sternly.

“You don’t leave the house like that,” He scolds in a gentle voice, clearly more concerned than anything.  “You know that” 

“I was still in the building,” Yuji pouts.  “And (y/n)-san found me,” 

Before Choso can ask who he means, it strikes him that the woman who’d been at the door with his little brother was still standing there.  She throws her hand up in an awkward wave, still too starstruk to speak.  Also perhaps a bit intimidated from having to explain herself to the handsome stranger- who happened to be her neighbor.

Before she could properly introduce herself, or find her voice, Yuji’s pulling away from his brother and reaching for (y/n’s) hand.  He tugs on it as he stares up at her with pleading eyes.

“C’mon (y/n)-san, tell him, tell him!” 

Choso eyes his brother with a peculiar narrow to his eyes, before shifting his gaze upwards, towards the girl who’s quietly laughing and pulling Yuji’s hand off of her own gently.

“Right…” She murmurs down at him, before turning towards his older brother.  “Well, I must request that you give Yuji a re-do on his round of hide and seek,” 

Choso blinks, his eyes widening in just the slightest.  Enough for (y/n) to realize there was a slight violet hue in the darkness of them.  Her heart skips  a beat- has she ever seen violet in a person’s eyes before? Certainly not.  She has to clear her throat before continuing.

“You see, I made him end his round early,” She continues, trying to bite back the grin that threatens to take over her features as she takes responsibility for the game being ended so abruptly.  “Completely my fault” 

A breath of a laugh escapes him, before his lips part and he smiles between her and his brother and fully laughs.

“I see,” He hums.  “You can have a redo on one condition” 

“Anything!” Yuji wailed out dramatically 

“The game stays inside the apartment.  Got it?” 

“Okay!” Yuji agrees to the rule right away, throwing himself at his brother again to wrap his arms around him in a display of his gratitude.  He giggles as he looks up at his beloved big brother.  “I’m gonna go scout hiding spots while you talk to (y/n)-san!” 

Before anything more could be said, Yuji’s darting back inside the apartment.  Even with the footie pajamas, his stomps as he roams around looking for small places he could fit could be heard by the pair at the door.

“Scouting is cheating!” Choso hollers behind him, but when he’s met only with Yuji’s giggling, he figures it’s probably a lost cause already, and turns back to where his little brother’s not-as-little friend is still hovering in the hall.  His adam’s apple bobs as he swallowed thickly, trying to cure the dry spell on his throat before he speaks again.  “Thank you for helping him get back.  I’m, uh, sorry if he was trouble” 

“Oh, he was no trouble at all,” She says easily, because it’s the truth.  She tries not to focus on the purple in his eyes as she jerks her thumb over her shoulder.  “I actually live across the hall, so if anything he walked me home like a tiny gentleman” 

She laughs off her nerves as she pulls on the strap of her bag, clutching it close to her chest.  It’s a relief when he quietly chuckles too.

“I’m Kamo Choso, by the way” He says, stepping out of the doorway just enough to extend his hand to her.  She hesitates before taking it, and he wonders if he’s imagining things or if she really was blushing from the simple handshake.

“(y/l/n) (y/n),” She replies softly.  “Nice to meet you” 

She hadn’t thought Choso would take Yuji seriously when he was instructed to talk to her, but to her surprise he leans back against his door frame and takes it upon himself to strike up a conversation.  It’s nothing too exciting, but it was more than she was expecting, and it still has butterflies tickling in her stomach.

“How long have you been in the building?” 

“About a month,” She answers.  “Pretty sure you’re the first person I’ve met that actually counts, though” 

“That actually counts?” His brow raises.

“Would you count the landlord and the maintenance crew?” She asks, a slight smirk tugging on the corner of her lips.  It draws another chuckle out of him, and he has to nod his head in agreement.  “Well, I should let you get back to your game,” She shuffles backward, her hands relaxing on the strap of her bag as she reaches her side of the hall.  “I’m glad I met you both, though” She adds in a moment of bravery before she’s fishing for her key.

“Me too-” 

“Choso-nii! Time to cooount!” A little voice hollers from inside his apartment, sending him whirling around to scold Yuji for being too loud when the door is open and all of their neighbors could surely hear his screeching.

(y/n’s) already slipped inside her door and shut it again when he turns back again.  He’s disappointed, even if he didn’t know what else to say, he would’ve liked to talk to her a little bit longer.  With a huff, he hopes they’ll cross paths in the hall sometime soon, before he heads after his brother.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

After a few more rounds of hide and seek where Choso had to pretend he hadn’t seen Yuji’s tail poking out from under the couch, or his padded clawed feet from beneath the swaying curtains, he decides it’s time to make them both lunch.

And in the midst of perfecting his craft at grilled cheeses, he thinks he might as well press his kid brother for some more information about their supposed new neighbor.

“Your new friend seemed pretty nice” He tested the waters, keeping his focus on the stove while Yuji did a coloring page at the counter across from him.

“(y/n)-san?” He asks, grinning right away.  Out of the corner of his eye, Choso can see that he began to kick his feet back and forth.  “She’s really nice! I like her a lot” 

“Mhm” Choso hums back, poking the sandwich around with a spatula to test if it was ready to flip yet.  Yuji watches his big brother curiously.

“Did you like her too, Choso-nii?” 

“I said she seemed nice” Choso chuckles, glancing over at Yuji for just a moment before focusing on the stove again.

“Well, good.  Ce-bause I told her you didn’t have friends, so maybe she could be your friend” 

Choso nearly chokes on air as he turns to Yuji again, a wince of a smile on his face.  Yuji’s grinning, of course, because he’s five and had all the best intentions in making sure his big brother had companionship, but Choso can’t help but worry that he’d killed his chances of getting to know her better.  She probably thought he was a creepy loner now.

“You… told her I didn’t have friends?” He repeats, hoping maybe the context will make things better.  Maybe Yuji hadn’t said exactly that.

“Yep!” The boy responds, popping his lips with certainty before tucking away the green crayon he was using.

Choso tries to hide the curl in his lip as he turns off the stove and plates the grilled cheese.  Relying on a five year old to be a decent wingman was too tall of an ask, he realizes.  Yuji’s cuteness could only carry him so far… if only he wasn’t such a blabbermouth.

“Well, hopefully she’ll still like me then” He mutters as he sets the plate in front of his brother.  Yuji beams as he thanks him, taking a large bite before going back to his coloring sheet.

Unbeknownst to Choso, Yuji held onto that little comment in his memory.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

To his luck, he happens to run into (y/n) just a week later.

He and Yuji were waiting at the elevator, with Yuji being a little more whiny than usual.  Choso had actually been praying for the doors to open faster so that he could get the two of them out of this building before his younger brother had a meltdown.

It wasn’t often that Yuji misbehaved.  He was a really good kid, who responded well to rules and structure, and was always polite where he needed to be.  He could get rowdy, and maybe he was more chatty with strangers (especially cute ones that live across the hall) than Choso would have liked, but he was a respectful little five year old with a good heart, and he wouldn’t ask anything more.

Except for today.

“But I don’t like her house.  It stinks.  And there’s too much cat hair!” Yuji whines.  He’s not being loud, but he’d had the whiny voice for the better part of an hour now, and Choso was starting to go a little crazy.

“I thought you loved Adelaine-san’s cats” He reminds him gently.

Truthfully, Choso wasn’t a fan of Yuji’s current babysitter either.  She was nice enough, but she overcharged, and she never seemed to feed Yuji food he actually liked- resulting in Choso having to pick up fast food on the way home every time he picked him up from babysitting.  However, she was the closest sitter to them, and she didn’t mind keeping Yuji late when Choso worked nights- which was often.

“I do, but there’s so many Choso-nii,” Yuji pouts up at his big brother.  “Gets stuck on my clothes” 

Despite being irritated with the whiny attitude, Choso can’t help but give his kid brother a small smile.  What five year old cared about fur sticking to clothes? Yuji was something special.

“Well, you can’t come with me to work-” 

Finally, the doors opened, but before the brothers could step in, (y/n) was stepping out.  With arms full of bags of groceries- almost a comical amount of bags.

“(y/n)-san!” Yuji cheered after seeing his long lost friend.  (It had been a week)

Despite her obvious struggling with her things, Yuji threw himself at her, eager for a hug.  Choso was quick to grab him by the hood of his truck-themed sweatshirt, reeling him back before he could make the poor girl drop her things.

“Let me help you” He offered, already reaching for the handles of the bags lower on her wrists.

“Oh, you don’t have to, I made it this far-” She starts to deny the offer, but Yuji’s piping up before she could finish.

“I’ll help too!” Yuuji declared, following his big brother’s example and taking two bags, one in each hand.

“Be careful with those, Yuji,” Choso says quietly.  “That’s food, you need to be gentle, like how we carry bread, remember?” 

Yuji nods affirmatively, already marching back down the hallway towards their doors.  Choso hopes he doesn’t think he can sneak back home with this little act of service.

“Thank you,” (y/n) chuckles as Choso loads his arms up with her bags.  “I don’t believe in making multiple trips” 

“Yeah, I gathered that,” He replies, smirking to himself as he did a quick count of all the bags between them.  What the hell did she need all these groceries for? Does she let her pantry run out before she makes a trip? “Caught you at the right time though, huh?” 

“You did,” She muses, digging a free hand into her pocket for her key.  Yuji was patiently waiting at her door, and she made sure to greet him with a big smile.  “And how have you been, Itadori Yuji?” She asks, unlocking the door and pushing it open with her hip.  To her amusement, Yuji strolled right into her apartment.

“Terrible, (y/n)-san!” He cries out.  

“Yuji, you can’t just walk into people’s-” 

“It’s alright,” (y/n) giggles before Choso could scold his brother for inviting himself into her home.  “Please, come in.  He’s just trying to help, can I get you boys something to drink?” 

“No, that’s alright, thank you, I actually-” 

Choso’s interrupted again, but this time by his nosy brother, who’s set the grocery bags down on the kitchen floor before marching back over to them and putting his hands on his hips.

“He’s making me go to the babysitter,” He whines to (y/n), who raises her brows as she nods back at him, taking him quite seriously- much to Choso’s dismay.  “I hate the babysitter!” 

Choso rolls his eyes as he’s setting his armful of bags on the counter.

“We don’t hate,” He says softly, but Yuji’s pout only worsens, before he gives (y/n) his best puppy dog eyes.  Choso sighs as he turns to (y/n).  “On Thursdays and Fridays I work at a bar, so he can’t come,” He explains quietly.  She nods at him too, giving him the same level of her understanding and attention.  If he wasn’t starting to run late, he would have reveled in it a little longer, just because it was cute.  “He thinks it’s the end of the world, but it’s not.  It’s only for a few hours-” 

“It’s torture, (y/n)-san!” Yuji reaches out to her, and on instinct she finds herself crouching down, returning his dramatic pout.

“Oh it sounds like torture!” She cries back.  For a moment, Yuji seems taken aback by the behavior, but he just as quickly lights up, and reaches towards her again.

“Can I stay here with you instead!?” He asks, already grinning ear to ear from the idea, before she’d even given him her approval.

“Yuji,” Choso sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose.  What was it with his little brother and overstepping when it came to her? “I’ve already called Adelaine-san, she’s expecting us” He says pointedly. 

Yuji frowns, and this time it’s not like the baby faced pout he made before.  It’s a genuine disappointment in being told he had to go.

“I don’t mind,” (y/n) says softly, tilting her head to look up at Choso, waiting for him to decide whether or not he was alright with that.  “I can look after him for a while.  Then you don’t have to make an extra stop on your way home, we’ll be right here” She suggests.

Yuji’s grinning again in no time, bouncing on his feet before rushing over to his brother and clinging onto his pant leg.

“Please Choso-nii! Pleeaaase?” He whines, and somehow it’s more irritating than before.

(y/n) chuckles as she stands, stepping a little closer to speak under her breath, while Yuji was still whining and bouncing and not paying attention.

“Only if you’re okay with it, of course,” She says.  “I understand if you’re more comfortable with-” 

“You’d really be alright to take him for tonight?” He asks her, eyes flickering between hers.

She presses her lips together as she nods, trying to will herself not to get lost in his pretty dark eyes.

“Just for a few hours,” He repeats his earlier mention, and she nods again.  “You’re sure?” 

“She’s sure! She’s sure!” Yuji screeches, still pulling on Choso’s leg and waiting for the confirmation that he didn’t have to go to the smelly cat house.

“Alright… fine,” Choso agrees, and Yuji’s full on jumping now.  Choso only hoped he wasted off this excess energy so he was calm and good for (y/n) the rest of the night.  “But you have to be good.  If (y/l/n) has any problems she’ll tell me, and then it’s cat hair for the rest of your life, got it booger?” 

Yuji nods his head up and down repeatedly, so much so they’re surprised it doesn’t give him a head rush. 

“I’ll be good! I’ll be so good!” He promises.  Choso smiles, reaching a hand down to mess up his hair affectionately.

“I’ll give you my number, in case you change your mind, or if he… breaks something, or something” Choso mutters, pulling his phone out of his pocket.

(y/n) does the same, they swap, each plug in their contact, then swap back with shy smiles.

“I’m sure he’ll be lovely,” She tells him.  “Don’t worry about us, I have a lot of movies.  Maybe I’ll make him a big dinner and put him to sleep” 

The corner of his mouth tilts into a smirk.

“Works like a charm every time,” He murmurs.  “But I gotta get going, I don’t want to be too late” 

“Of course” She nods, headed towards the pile of grocery bags on her kitchen counter.

“I’m usually out around one, but if it’s any later I’ll text you, alright? Or- should I call?” He’s walking back towards the door, but he hesitates as he waits on her answer.

“Either works,” (y/n) shrugs with a small smile.  “Have a good night!” 

It’s stupid, but his face feels warm as he lingers at the door just a few seconds longer, before he nods back at her.

“You too, (y/l/n).  And thank you” 

Once he leaves and the door is shut behind him, (y/n) has to shake her head to rid the silly fluttery feeling in her chest.  

“Well,” She flattens her hands over the front of her pants, smoothing down the nonexistent wrinkles, before she turns to Yuji with a smile.  “How about while I put these groceries away, you let me know if you see anything you like and I’ll get started on that for dinner, hm?” 

“Did you get the dinosaur shaped macaroni?” Yuji asked hopefully.

(y/n) winces as she glances over her bags of produce, bread, and regular-shaped pastas.

“I… did not” She admits, and she actually feels a bit bad about being underprepared.  Even though she’d only taken on this babysitting gig five minutes ago.

“That’s okay,” Yuji shrugs.  “I like all sorts of things!” 

And he’s not wrong.  As she puts away the boundless groceries, Yuji points out all sorts of things he likes.  Fruits, veggies, he didn’t seem like a picky kid at all.  (y/n) actually found herself impressed by his wide palette.

“Choso-nii makes all sorts of stuff” Is what Yuji says when she compliments him on his taste.

“He’s a good cook, huh?” 

“Very good!” Yuji tells her.  “Maybe next time he’s not working you can eat with us, instead!” 

The insinuation has her cheeks flaring up with color and heat, but she politely agrees and tells him she would like that.

The rest of the night goes without a hitch.  Yuji teaches her how to play crazy 8s- even though the rules were simple and she’d memorized them when she was his age- and they play that while chatting over everything and nothing for a long while.  Yuji tells her all about his best friend Megumi.  Then when he runs out of things to say about him he talks about his favorite subjects, his favorite color, and that starts a long conversation about his favorite everything.

It’s obvious he tires himself out with all his chatting, so it’s not long after that when (y/n) shows him her movie collection and lets him pick one out.  It takes him some time, as he treats this task with the utmost importance.  He couldn’t make a bad choice, of course.  (y/n) doesn’t mind.  She’s come to shed the awkward layers and has learned exactly how to talk to Yuji.

She’s learned that taking everything he says to be completely serious and dive into a conversation about it as if he were anyone else seemed to do the trick.  Yuji liked to talk, and he had plenty to say.  Like how squeaky the swing sets were at school, and how he disliked when people used them because of it.  He was kind, and he was entertaining.  He was certainly the best company she’d taken up in a while.

When he picks the movie he settles in on her couch, cozying up in the fluffy blanket she’d grabbed for him, and he tells her that he picked one of his favorites.

The entire first half, Yuji is on the edge of his seat.  Both from watching his favorite animated movie, and also from watching (y/n’s) every reaction to it.  It started to grow on her, so eventually she really started to do up her reactions to every little scene.

At the halfway point she made him a big bowl of popcorn and only stole a handful of it when he wasn’t looking just to get a giggly reaction out of him.

Before she knew it, with a full belly, a cozy blanket, and his favorite movie, Yuji was dozing off on the couch.  

As quietly as she could, (y/n) got to work cleaning up the kitchen.  Although with how much energy Yuji had spent earlier in the night, he was sleeping as hard as a rock.

With nothing but time to spare, she decided now was as good a time as any to catch up on some reading.  So once everything was clean again, she settled in on the couch, tucked the blanket around Yuji, and got to reading.

She lost hours until her phone buzzed with a notification.

[ kamo choso ] : just got out, will be by in twenty minutes or so 

She liked the message so he knew she was still up and saw it.  She kept the chat open for a few more minutes, contemplating sending a message back.  sounds good! or he was great, out like a light! But the longer she hesitated the more she felt like too much time had passed, and it would be embarrassing to send a text.  So she didn’t.

She wasn’t able to focus much on reading after that.

Choso knocked on the door not too much later, twenty minutes to be exact, just like he said.  She tiptoes her way to the door, and smiles upon finding a very tired looking Choso on the other side.  The circles under his eyes look a little bit darker, his hair is starting to fall from his already messy buns, and he looks like he’s struggling to keep his eyes open.  Regardless, he lifts his head and gives her a small smile when she opens the door.

“Hey,” He hums.  “How was it?” 

“It was fun, actually,” She whispers back, checking over her shoulder to make sure Yuji was still sound asleep.  “He’s a really great kid.  You must be doing all sorts of things right” 

Her eyes crinkle when she smiles up at him, and for a moment- and maybe for the first time- Choso nearly forgot about Yuji.  He’s not sure anyone’s ever looked at him with the soft, sweet look that she’s looking at him with now.  He gets lost for a moment, practically drifting off right before her.

“Oh- you’re exhausted, come in,” (y/n) mistakes his look for tiredness, and steps out of the way to let him in.  “Yuji’s still sleeping on the couch.  He’s a hard sleeper, huh?”

“Very, yeah.  Building had a fire drill a few months back while he was having a nap.  Slept through the whole thing” 

(y/n) giggles to herself as Choso approaches the sofa, smiling at how content his kid brother seemed to be while curled up in the blanket, sound asleep.  He was careful as he stooped over to scoop him up.  It took some help from (y/n’s) part seeing as one of his hands had an iron grip on the blanket, but eventually he was free of the fluffy restraint, and Choso had him settled against his shoulder with ease.  As expected, Yuji remained asleep.

“Oh, I can’t believe I almost forgot,” Choso shifts Yuji to be held up by one arm so he had a free hand to reach into his pocket.  “I definitely owe you for this, what do you think is fair?” 

“Oh, no,” (y/n) shakes her head back at him.  “You don’t have to pay me, it was no trouble at all”

“You don’t have to say that, really, how much-?” 

“I don’t have to say it, I mean it,” (y/n) assures him.  “Really, he was a perfect kid.  I’d… I’d happily do it again, if you ever need” She offers, a nervous smile playing on her lips.

“Okay,” He returns the smile, but he still hesitates with his wallet in his hand.  “You’re sure I can’t give you something though? At least pay you back for the food?” 

“I’m sure” She has to bite down on her cheek to keep her laughter from ringing out too loudly.

Slowly, she follows him back to the door.  It’s later than she’s usually up, and she’s so tired that she’s sure she’ll pass out as soon as her head hits her pillow, but still she lingers at the door with him, waiting for him to say anything else.

“Well, then I can’t thank you enough.  I really appreciate it, (y/l/n).  Yuji did as well, I’m sure” 

“I think he did.  I hope, at least,” She murmurs, smiling fondly at how cozy Yuji seemed to be sleeping on his brother.  “And you can call me (y/n), by the way” She adds, almost as an afterthought.

Choso swallows the lump in his throat, nodding back at her as he waits for his voice to return to him.

“Alright,” He murmurs, finally crossing the threshold of her doorway.  “Good night then, (y/n)” 

Her heart is racing at a million miles an hour.  She fears it might shoot straight out of her chest like a bullet.

“Good night” She manages to murmur back as he crosses the hall, and she shuts the door behind him.

A sigh escapes her, and she realizes that she’d been holding her breath until she’s alone in her apartment again.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Things take off after that first time she babysat Yuji.

Occasional drop offs turned into frequent visits.  Yuji often wanted to stop by (y/n’s) apartment after Choso picked him up from school, eager to tell her about his day.  Whether Megumi brought snacks for lunch again because his caretaker had a sweet tooth, or if he wanted to show her that he learned how to do a cartwheel, there was always something.  Yuji was bountiful in excuses to go across the hall.

And to his delight, (y/n) ate it up.  She watched him more and more while Choso was at work, or running an errand that Yuji didn’t feel like tagging along to because suddenly he wanted to do his homework at (y/n’s) instead.  Choso had a habit of always double checking with her beforehand, sending her a quick text to see if she was even free.  And it seemed that every time, her door was open.  There was never a time where she turned them down.

She became Yuji’s regular babysitter, and after a while it barely even felt like babysitting.  His drawings and coloring pages decorated her fridge, he’d often leave a few toys behind, figuring he’d play with them the next time he was over, and he always used the same fluffy blanket when he’d be over late while Choso worked.

It was safe to say Yuji had grown attached to her, and fast.  Even when he wasn’t at her place, he wouldn’t shut up about it at home.  Not that Choso minded, he liked hearing about (y/n’s) day through Yuji’s eyes.  He got to learn all sorts of cute little things about her that way.

While Yuji had been spending more and more time with their neighbor, Choso couldn’t exactly say the same.  He chatted with her in passing, usually at dropoff and pickup, and he tried to text her more- funny Yuji-isms he heard throughout the day, memes, offers to leave money for dinner for the two of them- and even though she was always receptive over text, reacting to every image and responding to every message, it just didn’t feel like enough.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

“Choso-nii, do you have a crush on (y/n)-san?” Yuji asked him one day, seemingly out of the blue.

They’re in the grocery store, where Yuji’s filling up the cart with junk, even from his booster seat in the cart.  Choso does a double take at his younger brother, as if the question registered a second late.

“What?” Is all he can muster.

Yuji blinks back at him.

“Do you have a crush on her?” He repeated himself, tilting his head and widening his eyes as he studied his big brother.

“Wh-why do you ask that?” He stammers over his words, although he wishes he would have reacted a little more coolly.  Did she say something? Did he give something away? Where in the world would Yuji pick up on that?

“I dunno,” Yuji shrugs.  “Ce-bause you should” 

Choso forgets the cereal boxes he was looking at, turning all of his attention to his little brother, since now he deemed this conversation required all of it.

“I should, huh?” He repeats curiously.  “What’s that mean, booger?” 

“She’s nice,” Yuji says bluntly, and Choso laughs softly at the reasoning.  “And funny.  And a good cook,” 

He continues to list all of his own favorite qualities of (y/n), sure that most of these reasons are perfect enough for his big brother to have romantic feelings for her.  At five years old, the most Yuji knew about romance was that the prince kissed the princess and everyone was happy, but it was a decent start.  He only wanted that same happiness for his big brother- and (y/n)-san- after all.

“She has a lot of movies.  And she’s really pretty” 

Choso smiles at his brother, finally settling on a brand of cereal and tossing it into the cart behind him.

“That so?” He asks teasingly.  “You sure you don’t have a little crush, booger?” 

“No!” Yuji squeals and begins to giggle.  His cheeks are red just from the accusation, and Choso can’t help but laugh at the display.  “She’s too old, Choso-nii!”

“Right answer,” Choso remarked, pushing the cart out of the aisle and weaving into the next one.  “But why the sudden interest, hm?” 

“Well…” Yuji drawled, glancing around the aisles to avoid his brother’s eyes.  “If you had a crush on her, and she had a crush on you, then you could live together, and we could get an even bigger house, with more toys, and we could eat all our breakfasts and dinners together, and watch movies together, and get a dog-” 

“Woah, woah, woah, you’re laying way too much on me, bud,” Choso chuckles, but he can’t deny that his face was starting to feel warm from all the conclusions Yuji was jumping to.  They were too wholesome for him to take.  “A dog?” 

“A puppy!” Yuji declares.  

To Choso’s luck, conversation steers in the direction of pets, and he spends the rest of their errand explaining why they weren’t getting a dog- or any animal for that matter.  Even if Yuji makes a convincing argument about how cute it’d be.

It’s better, though, because Choso needed some time to recover, and figure out exactly how he’d move out of this crushing stage.  If Yuji had taken notice of it- in his own odd way- then surely (y/n) had to feel it to some degree too, right? 

He just needed to find a good window to ask her out, and take her out properly.  Not just a quick coffee in the morning when Yuji wanted to come over for a bit.  A real date, outside of the building.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Choso finds that chance one afternoon after swinging by her apartment so Yuji could tell (y/n) all about his day at school.  She’s prepared him a snack today, celery sticks with peanut butter smeared down the middle.  She offered him the raisins to make the ants, but Yuji politely declined, seeing as he doesn’t eat bugs.  She doesn’t argue, simply pops the raisins into her own mouth as she listens to him ramble on and on.

As Yuji drags on his storytelling as long as he can, Choso’s sat at the counter, stealing a celery stick or two that Yuji wasn’t eating while he rambled away.  He’d grown used to his brother’s chatty nature, but he was always surprised how (y/n) was able to sit through it with her full attention.  She never zoned out, and never missed a detail.  In fact, she would ask him more questions to prompt him into talking more.  It was so endearing that Choso can’t help but smile as he watches her interact with Yuji so wholeheartedly.

It takes a grand total of twenty five minutes before Yuji’s done with all his stories for the day.  Choso sends him off to their apartment with his backpack, telling him to get started on his homework, and he’d be over in a few minutes.  Yuji doesn’t find the instruction odd at all, happy to get started on his worksheet for the night.

(y/n), however, gives Choso a puzzled look as he stays behind in her apartment.

“Is everything alright?” She asks on impulse.

While they had talked many times before, and she wouldn’t call him a stranger, this was the first time they were left completely alone, and she was all too aware of that fact.

“Yeah, yeah of course,” He chuckles at her knee jerk reaction to worry.  “I just… wanted to thank you.  Again” 

She still has a puzzled look on her face as she leans against the counter, waiting for a better explanation.

“Thank me?” She repeats softly.  “For what?” 

“For all your help, with Yuji,” Choso explains.  “For the babysitting, and dinners, and… and ants on a log,” He chuckles as his gaze drifts off to the leftover snacks on the counter.  “Our mom passed before Yuji could even get to know her, and I’ve… been doing this for so long it just sort of feels like it’s always just been the two of us, you know?” 

(y/n) hums quietly, keeping her response to a small nod.  Choso’s never opened up about their family history before, and Yuji was only five and never seemed to question his brother’s custody over him, so it wasn’t like (y/n) had ever heard anything like this before.

She wants him to know that she’s listening, that she’d always be here to help the both of them, because she’d grown to care for them both so much.

“But it’s been nice… your help, I mean,” Choso goes on.  “Yuji likes you a lot, a really lot, he never shuts up about you” 

She chuckles at that, the mood lightening again.

“Really?” She asks quietly, as if the boy could hear from across the hall.

“Yeah,” Choso’s eyes widen with the flair.  “But I’m glad, you know, that he has you.  Someone that’s not me for him to hang out with and talk to” 

“I am too,” She replies sweetly, a smile stretching across her face.  “He’s a really special kid, you’re quite lucky” 

His heart warms up so much he doesn’t think he could take it.

“I know not everyone sees it that way,” He thinks aloud.  “Most people tend to look at us and… want to leave,” 

The smile on her face begins to falter, but (y/n) tries to keep her expression neutral.  She’d never thought much about what other people thought about Choso and Yuji.  Why should she care? She knew them both well enough to know that they were happy, and that Choso was more than capable as his brother’s guardian.

Then his wording dawns a new thought on her.  Did people walk out of his life because of Yuji? The idea makes her sick.  It makes her stomach twist and her heartstrings pull tight.  Friends? Partners? Was Yuji such a dealbreaker that he couldn’t even have companionship?

She feels awful now, crushing on him so immaturely, not taking into account all the possible pasts he’d had with other people that had gone poorly because he had a kid to put to bed at a certain time.

Tears prick the corners of her eyes, but she’s determined not to let a single one fall.

“Anyways,” Choso clears his throat, laughing nervously as he looks back up at her again.  “I just think it’s important that you know how glad I am- that- that we both are- to have you around” He finishes with a small smile, his nerves eating away at his insides.

“Of course,” She mumbles back, her throat tightening up too much for her to speak any louder.  “Like I said, Yuji’s a special kid.  I want to be good to him,” She says, a smile twitching at the corners of her mouth as she tries to feign joy, even with a heavy heart.  Then, she says, “And I want to be a good friend to you, too” 

His nerves come crashing down on him in an instant.  It piles up and morphs into something else entirely- something worse.  Dread.

He hopes that his expression remains neutral as he holds eye contact with her.  His mind battles itself as he tries to come up with what to say next.  They both sit there for a few painfully silent seconds as Choso weighs his options.

If he were a smoother man, one who was better with his words,  he would’ve taken his chance.  He would’ve articulated all of his thoughts in just the right way and let her know that he was starting to harbor a crush on her that was reaching embarrassing levels.  He’d crack a joke to lighten the mood after the confession, and then invite her out for a drink, or dinner- hell, maybe even both.

Those few seconds seemed to last too long but went by quick all at once.  The fact of the matter was that she was good for them.  She was good for Yuji, attentive and loving and so, so patient.  It was clear that she cared for him, and Yuji never hesitated to voice how much he enjoyed (y/n’s) companionship.

Choso was sure if he were to cross the wrong line now, he’d not only create an awkward tension with his neighbor, but also ruin the good thing that Yuji had going as well.  She was some idealized morph of a babysitter and a friend for him, someone he could go to when he needed help with homework, or to show her the toy he picked out with his allowance.  And at the end of the day, Choso wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he did something to take that away.

So he swallowed whatever he was going to say, gave (y/n) a small smile, and nodded his head back at her.

“You are a good friend” He finally answers her with quiet agreement.

She assumes he’s a bit embarrassed to say something so corny, so she lets out a little laugh and begins to clean up the snack dishes off the counter.  Choso lingers around her place a little longer until he can’t take it anymore, bidding her goodbye with the request that she makes more snacks for their visits.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Despite Choso’s adamant attempts at convincing his little brother that he didn’t see (y/n) as anything other than a friend, Yuji was never fully convinced.  Choso wasn’t sure what it was that made Yuji so sure that there was something between them- one sided or otherwise- but he was relentless about it.  Any time they saw her in passing, as soon as he was alone with his big brother, Yuji would make some comment or another about it.

In the boy’s defense, the two were spending a lot more time around each other these days.  (y/n) had taken Choso’s words to heart and began preparing an after school snack every day, so when Yuji popped by for his usual visit, Choso was always in tow.  No matter what she’d prepared he was all over it.   A package of fruit snacks or homemade banana muffins, Choso was accepting the snack as if it were a bountiful harvest.

The brothers seemed to stay longer and longer in the passing weeks, and soon these visits became routine.  It didn’t take long, just under a month before Yuji was committed to making it an everyday occurrence.  But what began as a quick visit for a snack and then to jabber on to (y/n) about his day at school soon turned into something else, too.

Yuji would move on, often sitting on the floor at (y/n’s) little coffee table to do his homework, and Choso would hang out in her kitchen for a bit longer so they could catch up on the events Yuji was less than interested in.  Her work, his work, and anything that came to mind at all to keep the conversation from ceasing.  There were some days Choso overstayed his welcome so much that Yuji would want to go back to their apartment, and Choso would still stay longer at (y/n’s), drinking two more cups of tea than he would’ve liked, but any excuse to sit with her at the counter a little bit longer.

And then one day, he’d struck gold.

“I’m sorry it’s so hot in here, I’ve got the windows cracked but without a breeze it doesn’t really do much,” (y/n) had apologized in passing as she pulled out a few small plates for the snacks she’d made that afternoon.

Truthfully, Choso hadn’t noticed the heat until she brought his attention to it.  He was far too enamored with the cute pink apron she’d tied around herself.  She always wore it when she’d baked something- so he knew that when she opened the door to let him and Yuji in today that they were in for a very good afternoon snack.

“The AC’s been broken so long I forget I’m used to it, so it’s alright if you boys want to take your cookies to go” 

“Cookies!?” Yuji had squealed and raced into the kitchen, savoring the lingering scent of fresh baked cookies before it could evaporate.

Again, Choso almost missed his queue.  (y/n) had taken to referring to them as you boys a couple of weeks ago, something he’d picked up on the very first time she’d said it.  It was nothing special, really, it was a casual form of referring to them both, but god the sweet way her voice formed those words he could almost be deluded into believing it was because they were her boys, and the domesticity of it all had him reeling.

Luckily, he came back down to earth soon enough.

“Your AC’s broken?” He furrowed his brow and tilted his head curiously.  “Have you told maintenance about it?” 

(y/n) makes a face that’s somewhere between amusement and a wince, before plating up two cookies for Yuji.  He thanked her four or five times before he took the plate to the table and began to gobble them away.

“I… try not to call them if I don’t have to,” She explains to him, side eyeing Yuji at the table to be sure he was too focused on his cookies to eavesdrop.  “It’s just the AC anyways, I have a fan in my room and during the day the open windows are no problem” 

Choso’s expression doesn’t let up, his confusion getting ahead of him.

“And why don’t you call maintenance..?” He pushes, knowing that the nervous smile on her face wasn’t for nothing.

“Eh, well, um, when I first moved in and had some issues I called for them, but one of the guys really wanted my number… and then when that didn’t work he tried leaving me his, and it was just this… whole weird thing” 

She shakes her head and keeps her focus on packaging up the leftover cookies in a little tupperware container.  Unfortunately, she misses the amused little smirk on his face as he leans into the counter.

“So you’d rather sweat through the summer than tell a guy you’re not interested?” He asks, and that finally earns her attention.  Her eyes narrow at him slightly before she crosses her arms defensively.

“Oh, I made it clear that I wasn’t interested,” She mutters.  “How does turning down a phone number five times not scream uninterested?” 

Choso chuckles at that.

“Want me to take a look at it?” 

She looks surprised at first, and he’s not sure if it’s because of the offer itself or if she was genuinely shocked he had a clue what he was doing, but the look wears off into a soft smile.

“Really?” It comes out in an astonished murmur, before her eyes go wide and then she’s coming around the counter to stand closer to him, apparently still in disbelief that he’d do such a thing.  “You’d do that?” 

He laughs again, this time with a creeping smile trying to turn into a full blown grin.

“Yeah, of course,” He says, and she only brightens further at the promise.  “Least I can do to repay you for watching Yuji, for free” He reminds her, and she gives him a look that tells him what she always swears by- she’d do it for free as many times as they need- before brightening again.

To her surprise, again, Choso’s incredibly handy.  He told her he didn’t mind if she had something else to do, or hang out with Yuji while he was keeping busy in his coloring book, but she couldn’t help but watch while he tinkered around with the air conditioning unit.  It didn’t take him long to solve the issue at all, and when he had it all set up and it kicked into life she was cheering so excitedly Yuji even came over to enjoy the fresh gust of sweet cool air.

He ended up staying the rest of the night, fixing the squeaky vent, and the delayed garbage disposal, until he and Yuji couldn’t turn down her offer of dinner.  Well, Yuji vehemently agreed, Choso took a little bit of convincing.  He was eventually swayed by the gentle “Least I can do to repay you for fixing up my place, for free” that (y/n) uttered.

And just like the afternoon had gotten away from them, the evening soon did too.  Once dinner was finished the remainder sat on the table for a good hour as conversation poured out.  Yuji was enthusiastic in complimenting her food, only kissing up just a little in order to get an extra cookie with his dessert.

Choso was adamant in helping her clean up, despite her many assurances that she could handle it herself.

“C’mon, help me show Yuji how to be a proper guest,” He’d muttered, plucking the freshly washed dish out of her hand to dry off.  (y/n) made a face, knowing he’d offered just the right excuse to get her to give in.  Choso grinned back at her.  “That’s more like it” 

It was embarrassing how his smile had her heart racing, but she couldn’t deny it, and she certainly couldn’t help it.  All she could do was keep her head down and her focus on washing the dishes.

“Thanks again for dinner,” Choso murmured after a few minutes of diligent dish washing and drying.  He peeked a glance over at her, but it was clear that she was avoiding his gaze.  “It’s nice to have a home cooked meal.  Not that I can’t cook! I’m a great cook actually- I should really repay the favor- I just mean it’s nice to… be treated to one” 

No matter how hard she bites down on her lip, (y/n) can’t keep herself from giggling at his rambling.  While he’s been talking to her a lot more this past month or so, it’s often when prompted, and when he’s the first to speak, she could tell that he kept himself reserved.

It was refreshingly heartwarming to watch him stammer over his words now.

“Well… I wouldn’t turn that down,” She admits quietly, and it takes all the courage she can muster to glance at him out of the corner of her eye.  “But Yuji told me his favorite meal was chicken nuggets, so I’m not sure how convinced I am of your cooking ability” 

Choso turns towards her, catching her off guard by their close proximity, but she doesn’t shy away under his gaze.

“He’s five,” He argues with a playful roll of his eyes.  (y/n) snickers, hesitating as she turns back to washing up the last plate in the sink.  “But fine.  I’ll make him his own dinner, so you and I can enjoy something more refined, if that’s what you so please” 

The idea of just the two of them, eating a dinner he’s cooked, alone, has her cheeks burning up so quickly she can’t stand to look at him again.  So instead she murmurs out a weak agreement, and quickly excuses herself to check in on Yuji.

Yuji had sort of been playing with his action figures, but he’d mostly watched his brother and (y/n) whisper and laugh between themselves as they did the dishes at an excruciatingly slow pace.  He knew he wasn’t just seeing things, he knew what the giggling meant.  At least, in his own warped and childlike way.  He didn’t care to think about it too deeply, not because he was five, but because he wanted to accept what he was being shown at it’s face value-  his big brother finally making a true friend.

So when it was time for the brothers to go home, Yuji made sure to hug (y/n) extra long.  Even when she’d tried to pull away and stand up, he squeezed his arms tight around her.  If he held on long enough, maybe it would be enough for her to understand just how important she was to the both of them.  So (y/n) chuckled, returning the favor with an affectionate squeeze and a pat on his back before he finally let her go with the brightest smile on his gap-toothed face.

And then he’s tugging on his brother’s pant leg gently, before pushing his hand against the back of his knee and sending him stumbling towards (y/n).  Yuji’s not a toddler, he very well could have used his words to tell his big brother what he wanted him to do.

Choso catches his footing with ease but it’s his expression he can’t cover up.  A nervous smile and widened eyes as he silently scolds his little brother for the childish action.  He’s only met with that giant grin before he turns to (y/n).

She has the warmest smile on her face, as if she holds nothing but endearment for the embarrassing display.  He’s lucky at this moment, because she’s the first to step forward and raise her arms.  If it weren’t for her, Choso’s sure he would’ve fumbled this chance.

Her touch is delicate, as if the frame of his shoulders doesn’t double hers, as if she’s not reaching on the tips of her toes to fully wrap her arms around his neck before squeezing on.  Even her embrace is so thoughtfully gentle.  He can’t help but think it’s all for Yuji’s sake- he’s the one that prompted this little goodbye display, not that Choso is complaining- but he supposes she’s trying to appease the five year old while not crossing an unspoken boundary with him as well.

Choso overthinks this quick hug down every avenue he can, before realizing that he has to make sure she knows there’s no boundary in sight, so he circles his arms around her waist, returning the same soft squeeze as best he could.  He hoped there was still enough distance between them that she couldn’t feel just how seriously his heart took the casual affection, because it was pounding in his ears like it was trying to alert him.

It’s over in a matter of seconds, but he relishes in the way her hands slide across his shoulder blades before she steps away and drops them to her sides.  If he wasn’t dead sober and anchored in this moment, he might’ve purred.

It dawns on Choso that he might be the slightest bit touch starved.

There’s a pink to her cheeks now paired with her doughy smile, and he could almost stand here and admire how pretty she looks when she’s being bashful, no matter how embarrassing it would be to let time lapse as he did so.

“Well,” The word comes out of her in a wispy breath, and she smooths her hands over the nonexistent wrinkles in her shirt before continuing, brightening her smile as she glances between her visitors.  “I’ll see you boys after school tomorrow, yeah?”

Their responses overlap, but couldn’t have been more further apart

“Okay!” Yuji says with nothing short of glee.

“Of course” 

Choso’s voice is quieter than his brother’s, but it’s filled with such earnestness that it has (y/n) blinking back at him as if he’s just sworn a blood oath to her.  Her lips part as her eyes grow round and she’s at a loss of what’s normal in saying goodbye to your neighbor who you’re sort of friends with and you sort of have a crush on.  

All she can manage is a twitchy smile as she leads them to the door.  Yuji skips across the hall with delight.  Choso lingers for an extra moment and when his eyes meet hers, she finds herself gripping onto the edge of her door with a little more force.  Her eyes wander over the length of the black ink adorning his face before meeting his gaze.

“Thanks again for dinner,” He’s still speaking with that same low and steady tone.  (y/n) tried to gulp down the lump in her throat as she held his eye contact.  “I’ll text you about when I owe you one?” 

Unable to clear the block in her voice, she gives him a smile and a nod.  She hopes he doesn’t react awkwardly to her lack of verbal response, and he doesn’t.  In fact his timid smile turns into a beam.  It somehow makes his lips look even more plush and kissable- 

Her eyes shoot back up to his as she returns the grin and mumbles a pathetic sort of goodbye.  When she finally is able to shut the door behind him she heaves out a breath she hadn’t known was the source of the lump in her throat.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Choso started to reach out more, by whatever means necessary.  Anything to spend a little more time talking to her.

He texted first more, found excuses to stop by her apartment, and always lingered for too long when dropping off and picking up Yuji.  He even started playing the daily Wordle just to have something more to talk to her about. 

There were moments that he swore she felt what he did.  Little things, perhaps in the way she looked at him, or the sweet way she spoke quietly when it was just the two of them.  Choso was sure he wasn’t imagining things, because why else would she look at him like that? Why else would she always call his name when saying hello or goodbye?

[y/n]: u up? 12:47 a.m.

Even with the progress Choso felt he’d made in getting closer to her, this was completely new territory.

As late as it was, he’d been aimlessly scrolling through his phone, so when that little notification popped up he’d clicked on it right away.  He didn’t dare start typing- it would be humiliating if he created a bubble in the chat in the same second her message had sent- but he was upright and staring at the screen in disbelief.  

Soon enough a typing bubble appeared, and he gnawed on the inside of his cheek as he awaited further context.

Would it be ‘sorry, wrong person!’ or was she genuinely reaching out to him at this hour? It had been some time since he’d received one of these tell-tale messages, but his heart still raced with the anticipation.

Finally, her text appeared on his screen.

[y/n]: took a guy home after a date and he’s not taking the hint to leave.  mind popping over with an excuse so he’ll go? 12:49 a.m.

Choso’s out of his bed and sliding his feet into his slippers before he even starts typing up his response.  

But with how quickly he’s out the door he figures there’s no point in texting back a confirmation, seeing as he’s crossed the hall between their apartments and knocking on her door before the clock ticks to 12:50.

There’s the faintest sound of shuffling from inside, and he thinks he can make out that (y/n) is saying something, but he’s not sure what.  She opens the door and greets him with a brief second of pure relief and joy upon seeing him.

Only a brief second, however, as her expression morphs as soon as her eyes wander away from his face and nearly bulge out of her head.  In his rush to get out the door he’d forgotten to pull on a shirt- or maybe he’d decided it just wasn’t a necessity, he wasn’t sure himself.

Her mouth moves, but when no words come out, Choso takes it upon himself to deliver his golden, life saving excuse.

“Hey, (y/n/n), got any tea?” 

Honestly, it’s the first thing he comes up with.  It’s not the greatest lie of all time, but as soon as he asks for it he realizes his throat is a little parched and a warm cup of tea would be perfect for getting him to relax back in bed after this.  (y/n) let out the smallest of scoffs, the corner of her mouth tilting upward as she stares back at him as if to ask ‘a nickname and tea? is that the best you can do?’ 

He fully grins back at her, and as soon as she’s stepping out of the doorway he’s inviting himself in and making his way to the kitchen.  He doesn’t even spare a glance towards the man sitting on the couch, even though he’s blatantly watching Choso like a hawk as he casually rummages through (y/n’s) cabinets.  He’d been over often enough now that he knew where she kept everything he’d need, and he figured the more he made himself at home, the more this loser would feel threatened and leave.

“Uh- who’s this?” The man asked, still gawking at Choso and his naked torso, but the question is clearly directed at (y/n).

“Oh, this is Choso,” (y/n) replies sweetly.  She’s still standing at the door, a bit unsure of what to do with herself.  As much as she was hoping he would get her text and come to her rescue, she doesn’t know what she’s supposed to do now.  “He’s my… neighbor”

Choso smirks to himself as he sets the kettle on the stove, and then finally turns to give her late night visitor a once over.

He’s not typically a jealous man, it just wasn’t in his nature.  However, the feeling he’s flooded with now as he stares down the wincing man who appeared to be half-hiding himself on the couch while Choso stared him down was something akin to jealousy.  It was pride.  All it took was one look for Choso to know that when this guy left her place, he would never return.  He would never see her again.  Even if he didn’t choose this for the sake of his own good, Choso would make sure of it.

What was she doing with this coward to begin with? He wonders as he watches the man stand from his seat.  Piercing violet eyes track his every movement, from the way he stuffs his hands into his pockets, to the bob in his throat when he swallows.

Choso’s smirk widens, and his gaze softens when it’s casted towards (y/n).

She looks unsure of what to do with herself, but as soon as she meets his eyes she shuffles towards the kitchen, putting more distance between herself and her unnamed visitor.

“You always have your neighbors over for tea in the middle of the night?” The man asks, perplexed by the entire situation.  He already has his doubts that this isn’t staged, but his obvious nerves make him lose all credibility.

Choso only chuckles to himself, casually leaning into her kitchen counter, closing some of the distance between himself and (y/n).  She casts him a look, and he can’t be too sure, but he assumes it means she doesn’t know what to say, so he takes over.

“I’m certainly the only one she opens the door for,” Choso responds with a smoothness that surprises even him.  He watches the realization sink in on the stranger’s face, before he moves closer to (y/n), poking her in the hip to gain her attention once more.  “Isn’t that right, sweetheart?” 

Her eyes are wide, and set on his in a deadlock.  Choso doesn’t think she even manages a blink.  She’s already rendered speechless by the unexpected comment.

But she closes her mouth and nods her head.  Not at her date for the evening- no, she doesn’t turn to look at him or even peek at him from the corner of her eye.  Her gaze is still locked on Choso’s as she nods back at him in a weak motion.  In that moment it’s not even an act for him when he chuckles back at her, his smile growing softer.

“Fucking fantastic” The man mutters, but he’s already grabbing his jacket off it’s hook and was making for the door without further explanation.  

Choso’s quite happy with himself, knowing that he made a complete stranger walk out of (y/n’s) apartment without having to be told to.  He didn’t have to do anything at all, really, all he did was show up and let himself in for a cup of tea.  It was only convenience that he’d opted out of a shirt for the whole ordeal.

The door opens and shuts and it takes that entire time for (y/n) to find her voice.

She smacks him on the arm first, though.

“What?” Choso chuckles as he rubs the spot in mock pain.

“You know what,” She hisses back at him, but the undeniable smile on her face makes her sound more playful than threatening.  “What the hell was that?” She even giggles through the question.  If she’s even trying to come across as scolding, Choso wouldn’t be able to take her seriously for even a second.  

“It worked, didn’t it?” He asks.

(y/n) makes a face at him.  A face that says enough.  She knows he’s full of shit.

The kettle begins to whistle just in time, and without giving her an answer, Choso turns around to put together his cup of tea.  (y/n) has to bring her hand to her mouth, afraid that just one heavier breath and he’d realize that her eyes had been straining to hold eye contact with him.

Of course this was ridiculous, because she knew Choso was a well built man.  But having him shirtless and in her kitchen as if he belonged there was making her face heat up faster than she could control it.  She pressed the pads of her fingers into her cheek in an attempt to cool down the skin.

“What was up with him anyways?” Choso asked, his back still turned to her as he focused on his drink.

(y/n) dodges the question.

“Are you really staying over for tea right now?” 

When he turns back to her, mug in hand and the slightest of furrows in his brow, she worries that she just might not be strong enough to handle this one.  Dropping her hand from her face, she straightens up her posture.

His hair is down, the thought is like poison, shooting through her train of thought and completely dissolving it.  It looks soft.  

“It was a nice enough evening…” She explains slowly, despite telling herself that she didn’t owe him any sort of explanation, there was a compulsion to tell him all about it.  Choso merely raises a brow before he sips his chamomile.  “I thought a few drinks back here would be nice, too.  Turns out he’s only got one good story and the rest is… boring” 

He laughs at that, lips curling into a grin and shoulders shaking just a little  bit.  (y/n) links her fingers together as she leans into her counter with a sigh.

“Think I could’ve told you that.  I’d have to give the guy credit for one good story.  Just running of first impressions, that is” 

(y/n) huffs again, this time a pout gracing her lips.

“Yeah, well, next time I’ll run it by you then” She mutters, and she doesn’t really mean it, but Choso takes an interest in the comment anyways.

“You’ll run it by me?” He smirks to himself.  “And what makes you think I’m gonna green light any more of these ‘nice enough evenings’, hm?”

“You’ve got a point.  What do you know about dating?” 

“What do you?” He throws the question back at her, and that pout is returning in an instant.

And then she’s dropping her head in her hands and groaning aloud.

“It’s stupid that you’re right,” She admits, dragging her hands down her face before setting her jaw in her palms.  “I don’t know what I’m doing at all.  What the hell is wrong with me? The last three dates I tried to go on have been like this.  Not terrible.  Not great.  Certainly not special or memorable- besides the sting of failure” 

Choso’s quiet for a moment, letting it all sink in before he spoke his piece.  His lips purse before he sets his mug down and takes a few steps closer.  (y/n) watches, but she doesn’t lift her head from her defeated position.

“It’s not you,” He says, and she’s surprised by the serious tone in his voice.  “Besides, you managed three dates, yeah? That’s something” 

“That’s just this week” (y/n) mutters.

Choso can’t hide the change in expression, and she must notice his shock, because her lips tilt into an amused little smile.

“Did you think I just sat around and waited to play babysitter?” She teased quietly.  “Not that I don’t love it, but I do have a life, y’know” 

He should say something, backtrack and explain himself before she assumes that he’s never given her free time a second thought.  He thought about it too much, really.  And had he known she’d been spending it on useless dates, he would’ve involved himself sooner.

“Don’t be so hard on yourself.  Dating just… sucks” 

It’s lame advice, Choso knows that as soon as it comes out, but (y/n) nods her head in agreement before leaning off the counter and wrapping her arms around herself.

“It does suck,” She murmurs back.  “But… I’m scared that if I don’t put myself out there now then I won’t have…” She trails off, and a look of realization flashes over her features before she shakes her head.  “It’s late,” She says then.  “You should probably g-” 

“What were you going to say?” 

She blinks back at him, pausing as if to take a second to make sure he really meant it.  She chews on the inside of her cheek for an anxious beat before she opens her mouth again.

“What if I waste my time and never meet anyone that wants the things that I want and then I’ll be alone and it will all have been for… nothing…?” 

He smiles, but there’s a bittersweetness to it.  (y/n) seals her lips shut as she waits for his response.  She fears she’s embarrassed herself enough for one night, now it was his turn.

“You’re not wasting your time,” Choso starts slowly.  “You’re just… figuring out what you don’t want.  That’s just as important, don’t you think?”

A smile begins to crack in her features, and he feels relief to know that he’s at least sort of helping.

“Well, then so far we’ve crossed boring, creep, and loser off the list” She grumbles, and Choso chuckles to himself.

“Where does a girl like you find these losers?” 

He’d gotten too comfortable too fast and he realizes it as soon as her eyes widen up at him, not too much, but enough that he notices, and he knows that she’s caught the choice words of his loose lips.  A slight smile pulls on her parted lips as she thinks through just how she wants to call him out on it, but for right now, she relishes in the way his cheeks flush and his own eyes widen in panic.

“A girl like me, huh?” She teases, her soft smile turning into a full blown grin.  “And what do you mean by that, Choso?”

Again, he thinks she must know what she’s doing when his name drips from her voice like sweet honey.  Nothing else has ever weakened his insides quite like it.

“You know what I mean,” He tries to play it off casually, but her eyes narrow on him in disbelief.  “You’re super nice, and… easy to talk to” 

“Oh, right, I forget that super nice gets you everywhere” She exaggerates.

“You don’t need me to stand here and tell you you’re a catch, (y/n),” Choso sighs, and the playful crinkle in her nose dissipates, the rest of her features softening along with it.  “You have to know that” 

It’s quiet for a moment, and she’s staring at him with what he worries is disbelief.  Was she not taking him seriously? Did she think he was only joking? Well that simply wouldn’t do, he couldn’t possibly leave her apartment now until he was sure she knew just how wrong she was.

So he ignores the nerves prickling his skin warning him not to cross too many lines at once and he speaks up again.

“C’mon, I mean, obvious stuff aside, anyone would be lucky to score a date with you.  You’re excellent company, I mean, you don’t know how often I lose time when I’m talking with you.  It’s never a dull moment, even when it’s quiet, and I think that’s just about the most important quality in a person, don’t you?” It’s a rhetorical question, but even if she wanted to answer, Choso gives her no time to do so.  “You’re funny, in the witty way that I can’t keep up with and in the silly way that Yuji’s so taken with.  You’re patient, and generous, and kind,”

Her lips part, but there’s nothing she could possibly say to him right now.  Her mind has been wiped blank.  All that she can hear now are the words he’s saying, and she’s not even sure that this isn’t all a dream at this moment and she’s not about to wake up in her bed with a funny feeling.  Her heart was beating so hard she feared it would leap right out of her chest and she’s helpless to stop it.  Nonetheless, she wants nothing more than for him to keep going.

“You’re smart, and capable of anything, and you’re not afraid of chasing the things you want,” Choso goes on, and he doesn’t stutter once.  Every word is spoken with precision, as though rehearsed.  Or maybe it just came to him that naturally.  “Yuji loves you and that’s all the more I could ever want.  You’re the first person he’s really attached himself to, you know.  He never… he never really cared for anyone the way he cares about you,” 

Tears have started to well up in her eyes, but it’s still not enough to stop the seamless train of thought he’s spewing out.  If he notices this, he doesn’t comment on it.  He just keeps going.

“But it’s clear that he loves you and it’s clear as day why.  Anyone with eyes and an ounce of a brain would feel the same.  And they should.  And it’s really a pity that so far no one’s managed to behave the way you deserve, and treat you the way you deserve” 

She thinks he’s finished, only because he’s paused long enough and he’s staring at her now as if everything he’d just said was now being displayed on a teleprompter before him.  At first, all she can manage is a small gasp to clear the lump in her throat.

“You-” She starts, but her voice fails her and she has to shake her head to convince herself to ignore her nerves.  “You really mean all of that?” 

It’s a whisper so soft that even a creak in the floorboards would have overpowered her voice.  But the apartment is dead silent.  All she can do is stand frozen in place as she watches him and waits for his answer, for the confirmation that he really had just said the kindest, most beautiful things anyone has ever said to her, seemingly out of nowhere.

During his pause, she steps closer, glossy eyes remaining focused on him, as if a single blink could cause her to miss his next words.  There had been few moments in her life that she’d felt worried over missing- but right now if you’d asked her to name them she would probably come up short.

“I… don’t say things I don’t mean,” He tells her in a moment of unfiltered honesty- which he was on a streak with tonight.  

(y/n) gives him a faint nod in return as she tries to blink away the wetness in her eyes.  There wasn’t a chance she’d let herself cry in front of him right now- not at one in the morning after he already had to rescue her from a dead end date.

For all of his forwardness, Choso’s throat has gone so dry he knows that his next words will come out in a strained out scratch.  He feels like there’s a spotlight on him, even though the lighting in her apartment is so dim there’s shadows casted over the expanse of her left cheek.  It paints her into a silhouette that he believes could be hung in every museum.  When he tries to take a gulp to ease the dryness of his throat, it’s faintly audible.

A quiet sound of amusement breezes past her lips before they quirk up into a smile so gentle Choso swears only a soft stroke of a paintbrush could capture it in it’s full essence.  He might just have to pick up the hobby of painting if he wishes to fully preserve this image.  Honesty strikes him again in his moment of inspiration.

“(y/n) you should know that I’m starting to have feelings for you,” 

It’s a murmured confession, spoken so genuinely from the bottom of his heart that (y/n) can feel them filling her own heart with a gooey warmth.

“Well, not starting, I- I’ve known about it for a while, actually,” 

He seems to stammer and partially mumble over his words as soon as he’d started to speak with certainty, but it doesn’t make them any less true.  (y/n) knows this, and he can tell in the way her eyes seem to hold stars as she stares at him with pure marvel.  It makes him concerned that she’s never heard these things before.

“But, y’know, I didn’t want to say anything because of how much Yuuji adored you and I didn’t want to do anything to disrupt that,” 

Before he knows it, Choso’s rambling, but (y/n’s) patient and takes in everything he has to say.  She’s never seen him unload so many thoughts like this, and even with her heart on the brink of beating out of her chest, she takes in everything he has to say.

“In the past he’s sort of just shut down around anyone I’ve gone out with, or tried to, at least.  It’s just not like him, to be quiet, or shy.  I hated seeing him like that.  I don’t know what it was, why he never got comfortable around anyone, and I didn’t know if it would always be like that…” 

Choso trails off for a moment, starting to realize just how much oversharing he was doing tonight.  Maybe it was the late hour, or maybe it was that look she’d held in her eyes all night, like she was holding something back as well, but whatever finally pushed him over the edge to spill his every hidden thought was a driving force so strong nothing could have prevented it now.

“But then he found you and he was just… taken,” A quiet laugh falls from his lips as he thinks fondly about the adoration his little brother holds for her.  Sheepishly, he finishes his train of thought.  “And I guess that rubbed off on me, too” 

Her lips are wobbly at first as they form a wider smile, and then she’s making a short shuffle forward, putting them both toe to toe.

“You didn’t want to tell me you had feelings for me because you thought Yuuji would be upset?” She asks him, like maybe she’s not sure she understood him right.  Choso seals his lips together as he gives a faint nod in return.  Her head tilts to the side, her round eyes narrowing as an aura of curiosity settling over her as she gazes up at him.  “And you think I’m a catch?” She repeats his earlier statement, and lets out a breathless and short laugh when she watches color flush his face.  “So… what’s so different now that you decided to tell me?” 

Her fingers latch around the hem of the shirt she’s wearing, twisting at the material in short nervous movements.  However the clear sign of nervousness is easy to overlook when she’s staring at him so intensely.  His sincerity tonight had been a blessing that she was going to milk for all it’s worth.  Once she got a taste for how deeply Choso felt his feelings, she just had to know more, even if it meant pushing him to share more.  Although she hoped her eagerness wouldn’t drive him out of her home, she hoped he’d stay until she got her fill of all of his thoughts.

“I don’t know,” He sighs, and his shoulders fall slightly as he visibly relaxes.  It makes her wonder if he’d been tense this whole time, if she’d put him on edge by standing there while he made confession after confession.  The thought makes her swoon just a little bit harder- if possible.  “I guess… I just couldn’t hold it in anymore,” 

Her brows cinch together as her expression morphs, into something he worries is pity, so he frowns.

“I did try, just for the record” He tells her suddenly.  The change in tone makes her chuckle in her confusion.

“Tried what?” 

“Tried telling you,” Choso clarifies, “Months ago” 

“What?” She shakes her head in disbelief, a slight frown tugging on her lips as she tries to recall when he was referring to.  Surely she’d remember an attempt of him asking her out, or telling her about his feelings.  Yet nothing comes to mind.  “You did no such thing” 

“I did,” He insists, laughing humorlessly, but the sound lightens the mood between them and (y/n) finds herself laughing along with him.  Although hers holds more amusement than his had.  “And then you put me in the friend-zone.  Or neighbor-zone.  Or Yuji’s brother-zone” 

“I absolutely did not!” Her voice cracks as it raises to it’s usual volume, the soft whispers of earlier long gone as another laugh rips out of her chest at his insinuation.  “Don’t tell me you actually thought that” 

The seriousness in her voice has his heart strings tightening to their fullest extent, straining and quivering on the brink of snapping completely.  At this point, Choso thinks that she’s well aware of the emotional warfare she’s using against him, but then he catches that glossy look she still held in her eyes and he thinks she’s just as weakened by her own ardency as he was by his.

“Trust me, had I known different, things would be different” He says, raising a hand to drag a finger in the space between them to make the context clear.

Soft surprise adorns her face as he’s the first to surrender in their game of dancing around it, and it’s quiet for a few beats as she waits for her heart to calm down enough where she can speak without a tremble in her words.

“I’m telling you different right now, aren’t I?” 

The silence of her apartment is deafening.  Seconds pass like years as he stares back at her, his eyes shifting between hers as quickly as they possibly could, a sudden desperation in being able to read her expression clear on him.  Patience was just a part of Choso’s nature- it had to be when he alone was raising a five year old like Yuji- but any thought of moving slowly was thrown out the window as soon as he was finally sure of that look in her eyes.

“I want to kiss you,” 

He moves forward then, his hands moving as fast as his words as they land on her jaw, and despite their swiftness his touch is gentle.  They cup under her face with thoughtful softness, and as soon as he’s touching her, his patience is restored.  Suddenly he has all the time in the world, and he lets his gaze slowly trace over every little feature of her face until he’s sure he’s memorized every last inch.  (y/n’s) expectant before him, her lashes fluttering as her eyes shift repeatedly between his lips and his own gaze.  He wasn’t taking the hint, and unfortunately, her voice was caught in her throat.  She’d seemed to have lost it as soon as the rough pad of his thumb began to trace the length of her jaw to her chin.

After taking his sweet time, he pushes closer, tilting her chin upwards so that his nose could just barely graze past hers.

“Can I kiss you?” 

The murmured request is so close to her own lips she can practically feel them moving against her own.  Her nod of approval isn’t complete before the minimal space left between them is finally closed, and warm lips press against her own with the same gentleness of his hands.

She returns the softness at first, moving her lips against his with an experimental curiosity, but it’s not long before she can stop herself from reaching out to him.  His bare chest is warm under her palms, and at first contact all she does is press her hands against it, fingers splayed out to feel every warm inch of skin that she can.  Choso’s fingers flex and tense against her jaw upon the sensation that he hadn’t felt in so long it was almost unfamiliar.

But her touch was unlike anything he’d ever felt before.  The pads of her fingers were soft as they moved across his skin, slow but sure as they mapped over his chest and around his shoulders, yet the light graze of her nails was just enough sharpness to leave goosebumps in the wake of her path.  Even when a sigh is shuddered out of him, she doesn’t part from their kiss.

Choso can’t help but slide a large hand around the back of her neck, keeping her close to him even as they both begin to gasp for air between kisses.  The soft newness of it all is quickly replaced by a hot need to not stop.  It’s evident in the way their touches begin to lose shyness, and soon their grabbing and pulling at one another as their kisses grow messy and uncoordinated.

She presses as close to him as she can get, even with her own body heat reaching uncomfortable peaks, she still desired to feel his warmth.  More than that, though, she wanted to card her hands through his hair- and she did just that.  She’s rewarded with a soft whimper against her lips when her fingers dive into the roots and tug just a little bit before combing through the rest of it.

When she moves to do it again, a pair of hands seize her hips, and their lips are properly parted for the first time since he’d first kissed her as he lifts her up with ease, turning to drop her onto her kitchen counter before pressing close to catch her lips with his again.  She’s rendered breathless from the movement- after already trying to catch up in her breathing during their sudden makeout session- but there’s not an ounce of protest in her when Choso pulls her knees apart in order to slot himself between her legs and continue where they left off.

Her arms wind around his neck as she pulls him down the short distance to kiss him properly.  The height difference between them now isn’t nearly as drastic as when she was standing, but it’s still noticeable even as she’s perched on the counter.

Her heaving chest only becomes noticeable to Choso once his hands are making their way from her thighs towards her ribs, where he feels them expanding and contracting at an alarming rate.  He lets out a chuckle and breaks apart from her, his amusement only furthered when her lips chase after his, despite her panting for air.

“(y/n), sweetheart,” He murmurs affectionately as he catches her chin between his thumb and forefinger to halt her from kissing him again.  When her eyes open to meet his, her eyelids hang heavy over her dilated pupils, and Choso’s so struck with awe at her beauty in this moment he’d nearly forgotten why he’d stopped kissing her in the first place.  “Want you to catch your breath” He mumbles, the pad of his thumb reaching up to drag over the swollen plushness of her bottom lip.

Somehow, they look even more kissable than before.  Especially paired with her flushed cheeks and the dreamy look in her eyes as she peers up at him through her heavy and fluttering eyelashes.

She leans forward, but she doesn’t try to kiss him again.  She’s just filled with such a strong desire to stay close to him that she couldn’t bear to be the few inches apart that he’d distanced them with.  He smiles softly at her as her hand begins to sweetly comb through his hair.  It’s not the same motion as before, it holds a different feeling in the way she moves slowly, and with no grip at all, and yet his chest is filled with the same overwhelming adoration as when she’d had her hands fisted in it.  He decides to let his hair hang loose more often from here on out.

“I can’t stay,” He murmurs after a long but comfortable silence between them.  “Yuji…” He trails off, but she gets the idea, and nods back at him.

“I understand,” She whispers back, followed by a bittersweet smile.  “It’s alright…” 

“He’s staying at Megumi’s this weekend, though,” He mentions, his eyes following the movement of his thumb as it grazes over her lip, enamored with the way the plushness of it gave in even under his gentle touch.  “We’ll go on a proper date then, hm?” He offers with a hopeful look.

“Sure,” (y/n) smiles, and then playfully purses her lips to peck a light kiss against his thumb.  “Or you could just come over for tea again,” She suggests instead, followed by a short giggle.

His cheeks and neck flush with a rosy hue, but he nods back at her in agreement.  

It was a date.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

“So, does this mean you’ll get married?” 

Yuji’s blunt question has Choso choking on his drink.  Burying her face in his shoulder, (y/n) tries to suppress her laughter, but it’s obvious in the way she snorts and her shoulders shake.  Meanwhile, Yuji’s still sat on the floor in front of them, half watching the movie that’s playing and half checking on the two of them as he awaits an answer.

After a few weeks of going out and ensuring one another that their change in relationship was working, more than working, Choso and (y/n) thought it was the proper time to break the news to the little boy.  It wasn’t much of a surprise when he was excited to hear it, but the first question that came to his mind wasn’t as expected.

“Well, maybe, buddy, let’s just cross that bridge when we get there, yeah?” (y/n) answers him with a kind smile, even though the idea of marriage so early in their relationship as her face burning and her heart beating wildly in her chest.

“Okay” Yuji accepts the answer and goes back to watching the movie for a bit.

Choso finally clears his throat and settles back into his comfortable position on the couch, (y/n) still tucked under his arm and pressed into his side in just the way he liked, and after a few minutes of mentally calming himself down he really did relax again.

“We’ll still live together and get a dog though, right, Choso-nii?” 

(y/n) could feel every muscle in his body tense, but she still can’t help but look over at him with a questioning raise in her brow and a purse in her lips as she smiled.

“You told him we were getting a dog?” She hums curiously, waiting for his explanation of his little brother’s question.

A nervous, breathless laugh falls from his lips.

“You’re only focused on the dog part?” He asks, wondering what her thoughts were on the living together part.  (y/n) hums, and shrugs a shoulder before she leans into him again, her focus on the movie as she settles against his shoulder comfortably.

“Well, I’m more of a cat person,” She replies, knowing fully well that wasn’t what he was implying.  “Then again, a house vote would be fair” 

Yuji seems enthusiastic about this compromise, and doesn’t seem to have any more questions for his big brother and his new girlfriend as he completely immersed himself in the movie once more.

With the arm he had wrapped around her, Choso tugs (y/n) a little bit closer, until he’s able to drop a kiss on the top of her head, before he leans into her as well and a comfortable silence settles over the room as they all grow sleepy watching a film together.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

[ hold me, love me, touch me, honey // be the first who ever did ] 

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

xoxo ~ jordie

[lvlybin]

𖦹 ̼   ᮫   JUNOᘞ̸⠀ ׁ ₊ SUNG HAN BIN

૮ ྀི◞ ⸝⸝ ◟ ྀིა you thank your lucky stars that Sung Hanbin was brought into your life. you’re even more grateful that you both have made it this far: marriage, home, jobs… the only thing that’s missing are tiny versions of you both and he’s more than happy to provide 18+ MDNI

( first part of my short n sweet mini series )

wc 5187 ! 🎧ྀི ♡⸝⸝ sung hanbin x f!reader , non-idol au

an a/n ��� I feel insane for writing this >_< literally just something about this man I guess… enjoy my loves . . . warnings under the cut !

warnings p in v sex, unprotected sex, so. much. baby talk, heavy heavy breeding kink, semi-public sex, phone sex, oral f!receieving, fingering, nipple play, clit play, bulge kink?, talks of periods and ovulating

“You’re so lucky to have a boyfriend like him,” was always the first thing people told you when they would meet Hanbin. The way their eyes would scan over him: his pretty face and kind smile as he greeted them, a hand resting on the small of your back to make it clear to the person that both you and him were taken. If he weren’t so polite, barely uttering a word or two to a friend of yours, you would’ve gotten jealous at how much attention he attracted. But of course, his mother had raised him to have a personality that would fit the perfect genes his father had given him.

It was easy to assume that he was out of your league, especially when you first met him, although he never made you feel that way. Hanbin made sure you knew how you were the only one for him–how you were the only woman who had the entirety of his being and praised you for simply existing. And the truth was, you really were lucky. Lucky to have found someone capable of so much love and someone that complimented you like he was made for you. It was as if the two of you were cut from the same cloth because even from the first interaction, he understood you better than anyone else and when he had laughed, those cute whisker dimples appearing on his skin, you were a goner. 

“YN won the lottery,” your best friend had laughed when you had shown her the picture of the man who had asked you on a date after the smallest interaction in the coffee shop. 

Laying on her bed, fuzzy socks clad on your feet and 13 Going on 30 playing in the background, you had popped another kernel of popcorn in your mouth as you rolled closer to her. “Right?” as you take your phone back from her, another text from Hanbin alerted on your screen. You grinned, “I don’t know what I did in my past life, but I am grateful for it now.”

Your friend laughs as she sinks into the pillows at the head of her bed, “Keep working that magic to make him fall in love with you.”

“I don’t know, he already seemed head-over-heels when he asked me out.”

She scoffed as Jennifer Garner kissed a young Mark Ruffalo on the TV.

“That’s gonna be you guys someday, getting married. God, YN, I swear if you don’t marry that man–”

“Shh, I just met him,” you giggled and your friend offered her free hand to you. 

Halfheartedly, you high-fived her. “Exactly. The rest of it should be easy.”

And it was. The next night with Hanbin only solidified it, and being with him finally introduced you to what a loving, healthy relationship should be. You made each other happy, and it was like no other person existed to the two of you. Years passed, and you both graduated from university, got a place together, and moved in, settling down and solidifying your jobs. 

None of your friends were surprised when Hanbin popped the question to you privately on the deck of the overwater bungalow you were staying in on your fourth-anniversary trip to Fiji. Or at the fact that you had said yes. 

It was a dream come true getting married to him. Your wedding day was everything you had wanted since you were a little girl, especially the groom, and for two more years, the two of you were enough. Until Hanbin started talking about getting you pregnant. 

Folded at the waist over the marble countertop of your shared kitchen, your husband groans loudly as he buries his length deep inside of you again. Your walls flutter weakly around him, his pace slow and harsh as you feel the veins of his length drag along the inside of your cunt. Hanbin’s grip against the back of your waist is bruising and all you can do is call out his name as one of his hands reaches around you to push against your lower stomach, feeling himself push into you again and again. 

The pressure has you seeing stars and Hanbin coos softly, “Yeah, baby, let me take care of you… I’ll take such good care of you, just let go and feel it for me.”

“Binnie!” you cry out, feeling that coil inside you getting ready to snap and Hanbin pants heavily. 

“‘M here, my love, I’m here,” he gasps out, thumb brushing over the hardened bud of your clit and you don’t have to see him to know he’s smirking as your orgasm hits you. As you ride out your high, his hand drifts over the soft part of skin just above your mound, his hips slamming into yours much faster. 

“You’d look so pretty pregnant,” he mutters under his breath and you gasp softly. “Wanna put a baby in you, breed you so good and see your tummy get round–” Hanbin has to stop himself and he lets out a choked moan. The overstimulation’s beginning to hit you, but you can’t find yourself to care, your fuzzy mind filled with thoughts of him having you in a way no one has had you before. No one other than him would be able to have you.

“Give it to me,” you grit out, slowly losing what little you have left of your composure. “I’ll give you a baby–”

He’s releasing inside of you before you can utter anything else.

It only gets worse after that impromptu session that random Wednesday morning. You knew Hanbin had great stamina, but clearly, you underestimated how high his sex drive could actually get. More often than not you were waking up with his head between your thighs, his tongue lazily flicking your clit as he begged you to give him some relief before he had to leave for the day. He had you working your hips over him whenever you tried to sit next to him on the couch, had your mouth around him while he was driving you both home from work, was joining you in the shower any chance he got–he was insatiable. 

Things increased tenfold when you both attended your niece’s fourth birthday party. It was strange to you that throughout the few hours you’d spent there, Hanbin hadn’t approached you once, opting to spend time with your brother-in-law and father, which was extremely unlike him. Normally, he would be attached to your hip, but it was your niece who was held in your arms for those few hours, demanding your whole attention. You missed the way Hanbin’s eyes darkened just in the slightest as you so effortlessly picked up your niece, speaking to her softly and making her laugh.

It was so natural for you, and Hanbin felt that small voice in the back of his head that had been steadily growing louder the past few weeks finally snap. If he got any closer to see you like this, he wouldn’t be able to contain himself, so he watched you from a distance. The image painted in his mind of your niece having his nose, your eyes, his face shape, your smile– it was almost too much to bear. He was tense for the rest of the birthday party. And for the entirety of the car ride home.

Later that night, after you had already gotten ready for bed, sitting between the sheets as you waited for Hanbin to finish up in the bathroom while scrolling on your phone was when he finally brought the topic up.

“What d’you think about having kids?” he’d asked through the open bathroom door. The words caused you to look up from your phone immediately, your heart racing. 

“I want them,” you started softly. “They’re a big responsibility though, I don’t just want to rush right into it…”

His head popped out from around the edge of the door and he looked so adorable, hair a fluffy mess and skin shining a bit from the moisturizer he’d just applied. “...Could we maybe start thinking about having them?”

You turn your phone off as the corners of your lips twitch into a smile, “How long have you been thinking about this, Bin?” His cheeks turn a light shade of pink as he turns off the light in the bathroom, entering the bedroom. You laugh softly as he shrugs and practically throws himself onto the bed. 

“A while…” he admits shyly, burying his face into your stomach, your shirt separating him from your bare skin. “I want it so bad, though. I’m in love with you, I’ll always be in love with you, and I want you to be the mother of my children.”

“You can’t just say that–”

He laughs, “But it’s true!”

You’re silent for a moment, running your fingers through his hair, the sensation helping you gather your thoughts. When he looks up at you, eyes wide and pleading, you feel your resolve crumble, “Please?”

How are you supposed to say no to that?

“Well…” You have to look straight ahead, avoiding eye contact with him as you voice your thoughts for the sole point of not getting distracted. “We both want kids… and we’re financially stable…” Hanbin lets out soft hums of agreement at each thing you list, moving up your body until his face is right next to yours. 

“Please let me get you pregnant.”

“Hanbin–” You try, but his lips are pressing against your neck and suddenly it’s so much harder to think. 

“You’d look so pretty. Your belly full of our child and you wouldn’t have to lift a finger.” He mouths at a sensitive spot of skin and you arch your back to press your body closer to his. “I’d take such good care of you…”

“I’d… I’d still have to get off the pill.”

Hanbin chuckles, “I’d love you so good that your birth control wouldn’t stand a chance.” You let out a noise somewhere between a giggle and a moan as he pulls away from your neck, a smile on his face as you make eye contact with him.

“Then consider it done,” you whisper to him just before his lips meet yours.

The next day, you turn off your alarm for when you’re supposed to take the pill, and Hanbin’s more than happy to throw the little foil packet into the trash. And to fuck you on the bathroom counter afterward. 

The first week of being off of birth control you get your period. It’s surprisingly nowhere as near as heavy as you expected, but it’s still annoying to deal with, except for Hanbin being the angel he is and comforting you through the first two days of the subtle pain. Bringing you your favorite snacks, cuddling you whenever you asked for it, and giving you massages. Even though this level of care was nothing new, Hanbin hadn’t hesitated to bring up how this was his practice for when you were pregnant. You had rolled your eyes at his words. 

But when you start ovulating, it’s torture. The worst it’s been in a while, actually, and sitting at work all day, mind running a thousand miles a minute with thoughts of Hanbin, Hanbin, Hanbin and you wish you’d never gotten off of the pill. You shift in your seat, unable to focus on anything as you feel your panties cling to you, the slightest movement making you want to scream out in frustration. 

when’re you gonna be done with work tonight?

Your husband responds almost immediately:

Around 5

Why?

You grumble a little, sending him another message and trying to be as blunt as possible.

I’m so horny Hanbin

can’t believe I actually listened to you and went off the pill this is horrible

The three little dots appear and bounce around for a few moments only for four little words to pop up on your screen.

Go to the bathroom

You’re getting up from your desk immediately, making your way to the family restroom and locking the door behind you just as Hanbin’s contact appears on your phone. You don’t hesitate to answer his call.  

“Is it that bad?” is the first thing he asks and you squeeze your eyes shut, rubbing your temples with your free hand. 

“Maybe I’m being a little dramatic, but I cannot focus on anything for the life of me– Hey, don’t laugh.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he gets out between the sweet sounds of his laughter. Just hearing his voice is already making you feel better. He’s quiet for a moment after his chuckles die down, “Do you want help?”

A rush of arousal goes through you, “Please.”

“Okay, honey do whatever you need to do and I’ll stay on the phone with you–”

“Just– Keep talking,” you breathe out, your hand that’s not holding your phone undoing the button of your pants so you would have enough room to slip your hand into your panties. He laughs softly again and the sound practically has you gushing all over the fabric of your clothes. 

Your fingers run through the wetness growing at your entrance, making sure you have enough lubrication before you begin circling your clit. “Oh, my sweet girl… You’re so good for me. Doing all of this so we can have a family.” You let out a small whimper and Hanbin coos gently, his voice low and intimate.  

“I’ll make it so worth it, baby. You’re not gonna be leaving our bed at all tonight.” Your breaths are coming out in soft pants, struggling to control yourself as your movements quicken and your hips buck to meet your hand, practically humping your fingers. “‘M gonna come in you over and over and over again so there’s no chance that you won’t be pregnant by tomorrow.”

Your voice is breathy and you have to bite your tongue to stay quiet, “Please Binnie.”

“Tell me what you’re doing.” You swallow down a moan.

“Rubbing my clit. Trying to do it like you do but it’s hard,” you complain, trying to stay as quiet as possible as you run a finger over the hardened bud, only drawing yourself closer to your release. 

“I’m here, baby, just keep doing what feels good,” Hanbin encourages and if your head wasn’t the slightest bit fuzzy, you would probably be able to hear the strain in his voice. You press a little harder and you feel your high beginning to creep up on you, leaning your head back against the bathroom wall. 

“I’m gonna cum,” you whisper, holding on just for the sake of waiting for his permission. 

Hanbin hums, “It’s okay, my sweet girl, let go.” 

Your orgasm washes over you instantly and your teeth sink into the side of your cheek to prevent you from crying out, Hanbin’s soft praises helping you ride out the length of your high. When you finally calm down, Hanbin’s the first to speak. 

“Feel better.” You smile weakly. “Much. Thank you.”

He chuckles, “It’s the least I can do. Are you sure you’re gonna be okay for the rest of the day?”

You pull your phone away from your face to look at the time, “Just a few more hours. If I need anything else I’ll just call you again.” The smile in his voice is evident.

“I hope you would,” he pauses for a moment. “I love you.”

It’s your turn to smile, it’s almost subconsciously, but you can’t help it. “I love you. I’ll see you when you come to pick me up.”

“I’ll see you soon,” he repeats back to you, before you end the call, giving yourself a moment alone to catch your breath and try to get your hormones under control.

Surprisingly, you’re able to get some things done for the rest of the day. Maybe it’s the motivation from being able to see your husband in just a few hours, but time doesn’t pass by nearly as slow as it did in the morning. Finally, you clock out, entering the parking garage after Hanbin messages you that he’d arrived. You’d never been so relieved to see his car in your life. And your heart rate increases tenfold when he gets out of the driver’s side, you traveling the short few steps before wrapping your arms around him tightly. The velvety sandalwood scent that clings to him infiltrates your senses and you let out a deep sigh, relaxing immediately.

He rubs your back, kissing your head softly, “I missed you.”

“Missed you more.” You pull away slightly to peck him on the lips, “Let’s go home?” At your suggestive tone, Hanbin smirks a little, never letting go of you as he makes his way around the front of the car, opening the passenger's side door for you. 

“Let’s.”

You’ve never wanted to teleport so badly in your life, the car ride back to the house feeling like it stretched on longer than your entire work day. The best you could do to distract yourself from the longing growing inside of you again was watch as the city passed by, doing everything in your power to not look over at your husband because his hand resting on your thigh was more than enough. You figured that Hanbin must be as sexually frustrated as you, or at least the smallest bit with the way his fingers began to dig into your skin and the brief image of him gripping the steering wheel tightly. But to your disappointment, his impeccable control was still intact when you both entered your house.

Hanbin hadn’t pushed you up against the wall or bent you over the nearest surface, he’d simply taken off his shoes, then your own before walking towards the kitchen. You gaped a little, eventually following him while wondering what happened to that desperate man from a few weeks ago. All you could do was watch in disbelief as Hanbin dug around in the fridge, getting out some leftovers and warming them up before placing them in front of you.

“Eat.” You were getting tired of his one-word commands as you slid into one of the seats at the island counter, beginning to eat quickly. “Slow down a little, honey, I don’t want you to choke,” he laughed softly, reaching to hold your wrist and force you to relax your movements. 

You tilt your head, “Hanbin.” He responds with a soft hum. “Do you really have to draw this out even more?”

“Do you remember what I said on the phone earlier?”

Carefully, you eat another mouthful of the food before answering, “That you were gonna take care of me.”

“I did say that,” he agrees, leaning on the counter with his hands. “What I meant, though, was how I’m not letting you leave our bed tonight.”

Oh. You didn’t think it was possible to feel even more turned on.

“And you’re not going to, so eat.” Your face flushes as you hesitantly resume eating. His warm brown eyes never leave you as the contents of the plate slowly disappear, and when you swallow the final bite, Hanbin is taking the plate away. He sets it by the sink and then before you can process where he is, you’re in his arms and his lips are pressing harshly against yours.

It’s like he’s trying to consume you as his mouth melds so perfectly against your own, his tongue slipping past your lips when you gasp at the suddenness to swirl around your mouth. You grip onto his shoulders tightly, scrunching his shirt under your palms as his hands find the undersides of your thighs, squeezing the skin as he begins to walk. The moments where he pulls away from kissing you are short-lived, only meant for taking in small breaths and to make sure he wasn’t going to run into a wall. He shifts your weight against him as he pushes the door to your bedroom open.

Your feet find the floor and Hanbin’s holding your face with his hand as his taste continues to fill your mouth, making your brain cloudy and full of thoughts of just him, him, him. Gently, you push at his chest, breaking the kiss to catch your breath, a small string of spit connecting your mouths. Hanbin smiles and your heart almost beats out of your chest. 

His hands slide under the bottom of your shirt, caressing the soft skin of your waist as he begins guiding you backward. 

“Needed you so badly today. You sounded so pretty on the phone my dick was hard for hours,” he groans before his lips land on your neck. Hanbin bites softly, leaving marks all over the expanse of your skin and when his teeth brush against a particularly sensitive spot, you yelp. His breath is warm against your neck as he sucks at the spot harshly before pulling away. 

“Want it, Bin, want it so bad– Need you inside me.”

“Be patient,” he mumbles, but with the way his hands are instantly pulling at the hem of your shirt, you can tell that he doesn’t want to wait either. “And be careful with what you say.” His tone is heavy with lust as you fall back against the covers of your bed, the sheets a mess since neither of you had bothered to make it that morning. 

“Either way I’m gonna get what I want,” you say as he tugs the straps of your bra down, muttering a few words of annoyance as he reaches behind you to undo the clasp. 

His hands feel so big as he pulls the clothing in, his cheeks turning pink as he drinks in the sight of your bare chest. “And what is it you want?”

“Want your baby.” Hanbin practically groans at the three words, mouth lowering to the top of your tits to trail soft kisses in a horizontal line across them both. 

A small moan leaves your lips, “Sounds like you want it as much as I do.” His pink lips are wrapping around one of your nipples, running his tongue over the bud and sucking to erect the nerves.

“‘M gonna make you a dad.” His fingers pinch harshly at your other nipple, which he quickly soothes by running the pad of his thumb over it. It was almost like a warning, but all it made you do was rub your thighs together, wanting more friction. When Hanbin removes himself from your nipple, it already feels sore, the skin red as he kisses it quickly. Then the other. 

“Can’t wait to see your tits get all swollen. You gonna let me massage them? Let me make you feel better while your body grows our baby?”

“Yes,” you groan out eagerly, arching your back slightly to press your body closer to his.  

“I know, baby, I know,” he reassures, rubbing your nipples in small circles as he kisses his way down your stomach. “You’re gonna be so relaxed, you’re gonna feel so good that you won’t even care how full you’re gonna be with my cum.”

“Please, Binnie,” you whine as his hands leave your breasts to undo your pants, pulling them down your legs impatiently along with your panties. He hums a little as his hands gently guide your thighs apart. 

His thumb dips into your entrance just the smallest bit, collecting your wetness before spreading it all around your pussy, avoiding your clit. “Relax,” he repeats, kissing your inner thigh before wrapping his lips around your clit. Hanbin’s tongue flicks quickly over your most sensitive spot, making you cry out and your hand shoots down to hold him against you. 

“You taste so good,” he mumbles against you, and the vibration has you reeling, bucking your hips toward his face. The tip of his tongue teases you, gently moving the bud back and forth as you feel spit run down from your clit to your entrance, making your opening even more messy. Hanbin sucks on the hard little nub as his middle finger begins to work its way into you, the thrusts deep and slow as he eases you open. The sounds of his finger pumping into your pussy and his slurping against your clit make you cry out louder, and you prop yourself up onto one of your elbows to get a better view of him.

His eyes are already on you, pupils blown wide. “You’re so pretty, Binnie. Mouth feels s’good,” you slur, running your hand through his hair, and your praise has him pushing another finger into you. “God! Make me cum, Bin– Make me cum,” you whine as he stops sucking on you, flattening his tongue and lapping at you, fingers speeding up and curling so perfectly that your wetness is gushing around him. 

Every time he eats you out, he acts like a starved man. Desperate for your attention and desperate for your pleasure as he ruts against the bed every so slightly, eyes falling shut as he takes your clit back into his mouth. The pressure has you practically sobbing and you feel yourself clench around his digits when a third finger brushes against your hole.

“Y’gonna cum already?” Hanbin teases and you let out a frustrated grumble. 

“I’ve been waiting for this all day, don’t tease me.” 

He thrusts his fingers into you roughly and you’re falling apart around him, his thumb resting on your clit to give you enough friction to enjoy your orgasm as his face comes back to hover over yours. 

“Was thinking about your pussy all day too, baby, no need to get angry.” 

“‘M not angry, I just need you to fuck me.” Hanbin chuckles and his lips meet yours in an opened mouth kiss, the taste of you heavy on his tongue. He pulls away just enough to slip his shirt over his head as your shaking, weak hands fumble with his belt. Soothingly, he kisses you again, taking your hands in his own and placing them on his shoulders before he takes care of the rest of his clothes himself. 

You want to cry in relief when you feel his tip run along your entrance, collecting the wetness that had seeped out of you from your previous orgasm. “Ready?”

“Please,” you whine and Hanbin doesn’t hesitate to slowly push his length into you. Both of you are moaning as he fills you up, that itch you’d needed to scratch all day finally subsiding as the weight of him rests inside your pussy, letting you adjust around him. You both kiss lazily for a moment as you relax. “You can move,” you finally whisper into his mouth.

Hanbin’s hands wrap around your calves gently as he guides them towards your face, your thighs pressing against your chest and allowing him to get deeper inside of you as he begins to fuck into you. “My wife, only for me, right?”

He starts at a borderline painfully slow pace, getting lost in the feeling of your velvety walls wrapped around him so tightly and enjoying how you’re pinned underneath him. Your hands clutch at the sheets beneath you, mouth falling open at the steadiness and precision his hips have as his knees dig into the mattress. 

“Only– f’you, Binnie!” 

“Mhm.” And if it weren’t for the way his eyebrows are slightly furrowed, you would think your fluttering walls around him weren’t even affecting him. “All mine. All mine to love, and to fuck, and to get pregnant.”

“Ah!” You cry out as he begins forcing into you at a faster pace. “Yes! Need it~ Need you to fill me up–”

“Keep your eyes on me,” Hanbin demands, his drag along your walls ruthless and everything feels so intimate. His fingers find your clit again, rubbing it harshly and flicking it side to side, trying to build up your pleasure so you can’t focus on anything else. He pulls out to the tip, pushing into you again and he feels a rush of your arousal spill around his length, causing him to moan as well. “Want this forever, baby. You don’t understand–”

“Yes, please, forever,” you blabber, so dick-drunk and gone already. He chuckles, tongue slipping out to lick at the sweat building up on his upper lip. “Baby… Baby~”

“I know, sweet girl, I’m gonna give it to you,” Hanbin reassures, hand leaving your calf to press against your abdomen. “Feel how deep I am? That’s where I’m gonna finish, ‘s where you’re gonna get all round and full with our baby and– Fuck,” he curses, feeling you clench tightly around him. 

He looks at your dazed eyes, love evident in his expression and it almost feels like it’s too much. But you want it, you want it so bad, the images of him holding your baby consuming your mind and you pant out little, ‘Ah-Ah-Ah’s weakly. Hanbin’s thrusts slow a bit, but with the way he’s hitting that spot inside of you every time, you don’t really notice that much. 

“Oh yeah, you like that so much, don’t you?”

“Please.” Is all you can manage, reaching up to hold his face with your hands, desperate for something to ground you as he begins to fuck into you at a faster speed again. Hanbin kisses you gently, a complete contrast from the way he’s moving inside of you and rubbing you and he’s never been like this before but you do–you like it so much.

His upper body comes to cover yours as he removes his hand from your clit, resting his elbows on either side of your head so he can see your face as you approach your high. “‘M close–”

“Cum for me,” he gets out, hips moving to provide you as much pleasure as possible, feeling himself near his orgasm as well. “Cum for me, I’m right behind you.”

You moan out his name loudly as you fall over the edge, nose pressed against his as his eyes stare into your own. Hanbin’s mouth drops open a bit as he feels you cum around him, burying himself inside of you as he releases as well. The warmth of his cum inside of you has you whimpering slightly, both of you breathing heavily as you catch your breath for a moment. Hanbin pulls out of you with a small ‘pop’– looking down to watch as his release leaks out of you. 

A soft sob leaves your lips as his fingers gather the liquid, forcing it back into you. “Shh, shh, shh,” he shushes you, and you flinch at the overstimulation, hips jerking away from him a bit. Which he clearly doesn’t like, his hands pinning your hips down as he fits his length into you again. 

“Don’t run away from it…” he trails off, leaning over to kiss you sweetly. “We want it to take, right? I don’t care if I have to handcuff you to the bed, ‘m gonna make sure you’re pregnant by tomorrow morning.” And when you feel Hanbin begin to weakly buck into you again, you know he’s not lying.

[hotheadedhero]

Ok question how would the tmnt bros (all 4) react to someone having a crush on them, and they confess, but the turtle rejects at time... but later on he realizes no wait I actually do like them!

But theres already been like a good month or more since the confession and their crush has been sorta avoiding them by hanging out with the other turtle bros and though still being polite, they avoid like being alone with their turtle crush and try to act like they don't have a crush still(but they do)

Sorry if I didn't write the request right! and thanks for your writing I love how you write the turtles!

Frothing at the mouth. No words. Speechless. Thank you so much anon! This request is absolutely amazing and tugged at my heart in all the good ways, you beauty. So glad you like my writing tyty <3 Apologies for the wait btw :] I might have meddled with the idea a bit depending on the turtle but I hope this is the kind of thing you were hoping for! May even make a part 2 continuation because there was just so much to write, this was really a lot of fun so thank you again :P I let fate decide which version to base this on and we got Bayverse!

Rejection, Realisation, and Regret

Warnings: bad language, grovelling turtles for their idiocy, angst with this in mind, oh these boys are some real idiots

Bay Turtles x Reader

Leonardo

Turns you down as gently as he can but it still feels like a sucker punch to the gut. It may sound calloused but he's a ninja, a mutant, a protector before anything else and that includes being someone's boyfriend. With a constructive discussion on the matter, he can only hope that you understand his position. You assured him that you did.

So, then, how is it that he barely gets a conversation in with you these days? And why does that fact burn a hole in his stomach? This pit, although metaphorical, weighs down heavily on him. Assumably, he’s missing one-on-one with a friend until it truly occurs to him just what exactly is going on. There's a lesson to be learned here, he's sure - a saying that goes around as if taken from an ancient script: you don't realise how good you have it until it's gone. You're not gone perse but you make a point of avoiding him individually. As well-mannered as you try to be, he's noticed and he's noticed the hurt in his belly that comes alongside it.

He thought things were okay, that despite the rejection, you would still be able to comfortably continue your friendship without any issues. It seems he managed even to fool himself. Being so caught up in what it means to be one of New York's self-acclaimed protectors, he was completely absentminded to the feelings that had been bubbling up inside him all along. No wonder he's been losing focus on his training as of late. He has attempted to try and talk to you about it but to no avail. Has your heart really been that broken?

For once, he doesn’t know what to do, or what decision should be made. He’s stuck between a rock and a hard place right now. Who's the one person he can turn to at a time like this? Come on. Who else would it be?

"Sensei, you know better than anyone that our position comes with complications. That we as ninjas are sworn to certain oaths.” 

"Yes, the duty of yourself and your brothers is indeed a heavy burden. Responsibility comes with risk and consequence as I am sure you are well aware of by now.” Splinter watches his son bow down as he thoughtfully strokes his beard.  "However, sensei, rat, master; alongside all of these things, I am foremost a father who wishes to see his sons be happy. You're in love, are you not?"

Leo’s attention quickly turns up from the floor to his master. How had he figured it out? Must be that parental instinct. Either way, he’s thankful for that in some respect. It makes this easier. Less complicated. 

The turtle nods and breathes out, "I am, Sensei."

"That's what I thought." His father lays a hand over Leo’s shoulder before it taps him against the side of his head. "Now, what are you waiting for? Talking to me isn't going to change the situation."

Splinter is right. It's high time for him to get out of his funk and strategise the best way to make amends. He can only hope he isn’t too late. 

Raphael

Rejects you thinking it was some sick prank curated by his youngest brother or something. There's no way you have a thing for him. He's a mutant and you're a human. How could someone actually be in love with a freak like himself? That's why he blows up in your face when you attempt to pour your heart out to him. Whatever joke you thought would be funny, isn't. 

He may have taken things out of proportion. This much is made obvious enough by the poorly thought-out excuses you make just to avoid being alone with him. Yeah, that's right, he thinks. You should feel ashamed for trying to pull a stupid stunt like that, for trying to mess with him. He's standing firm on his self-assurance. Don't think for a second that he's going to lose sleep over what he said that day.

However, life has a very funny way of playing its own game. It all comes to fruition when you're laughing with the leader of the brothers. When your hand landed on his forearm, Raphael was struck with something fierce. The shot of jealousy to his heart almost takes him for a wild spin but he disregards it for typical Leo/Raph rivalry. Until that night, anyway. This man is tossing and turning in bed, ruminating on that sickly feeling in his chest; losing sleep over it. No. Surely not. He isn't in love with you. This isn't something that's been in the making for however long now. So what if you managed to calm him down quicker than anyone else he's ever known? Big whoop if you used to make a point of checking up on him when no one dared to go near him. It’s no big deal that you’d hype him up and cheer him on before each mission. 

Fuck. He's been in love with you this whole time, hasn't he? Oh, you have got to be kidding. This was probably the only chance he had at something close to normal in his life and he trampled over it like it was nothing. That's assuming it was even genuinely meant from your end to begin with. He still has his doubts all things considered. Either way, he can’t just sit in bed and wallow in his head all night. He needs some air. 

"What crawled up your shell and died?"

Great. He had hoped to get some peace and quiet. Not that this city knows the definition of either word but that isn’t the point. 

"Not now, Jones. I ain't in the mood."

Casey's head rolls against his shoulders and he sighs, "Hey, if this is to do with (Y/n) ignoring you, what do you expect? 'Can't just make someone cry and expect things to be okay after without an apology."

Raph's mask slowly descends and hoods over his eyes, those of which are now staring down the detective.

"Oh, shit. You didn't know?"

No. No, he did not. He really made you cry? Why would you-? Ah. Two things smack him up the head at this moment: you meant every word of what you admitted a month ago and he is an absolute asshole. Despite already living in the sewers, he feels like the scum of the Earth.

That's it. No more holding back. No more being chicken. He might have ruined his chance but he can at least try and make things right by you.

Donatello

Aloof. Absolutely aloof and utterly clueless to the fact that you were even trying to admit your feelings for him. Yet, the way that the whole situation plays out makes it seem as though he had denied you. His head is usually stuck in a book or on one of the many screens that litter his quarters. What can you really expect of him? Unfortunately, this isn’t something that comes to mind nor is taken into consideration when you attempt your casual proclamation. With his eyes glued to his computer, his inattentiveness could only be read as uninterest to which you find it’s probably best to withdraw yourself. 

In the weeks to come, it still doesn't even occur to him that you were confessing. The only thing that dawns on him from your weirdly abrupt absence is how strange it feels without you around. You still engage in your regular visits to the lair but are always elusive to his corner. Had he missed a memo? He can't quite place a finger on your change in behaviour. Then he realises just how much he enjoys and misses your presence. Even just how you'd pass by his little section of the lair and do something as small as asking him what he's working on. The small details should always get their chance in the spotlight but he managed to miss them when they were right there in front of him. When you were in front of him.

Subsequent to this steady progression of fluttering heart palpitations upon the thought of you and his drying throat when he tries to speak your way, he decides to take some action. At least, that’s the plan he has in his head. You hardly look his way, so he needs to find a way to gain your attention. There must be some way. With somewhat of an idea in mind, he dials a number through his computer and lets it ring. 

The other side of the line picks up and there’s a voice. “If this has anything to do with goons, aliens or whatever trouble you guys have gotten yourselves into, I don’t want any part of it.”

“Relax, Vern. This is something that entirely requires your expertise without life endangerment. I need to ask about women,” Donnie confirms, cutting right to the chase.

There’s a pause. "What-?” Another longer pause and then an inhale. “Can't you just ask one of your brothers or something?"

Yeah, right, because his family of sewer dwellers are so well-equipped for this matter. Even asking for Vern's aid is pushing the boat a little but it's better than nothing - a baseline structure of what to expect is all he needs. The internet would probably be more reliable but it doesn’t include that vital real-world experience.

"You engage in frequent courting. By all accounts, you're the only person I know who has enough field experience to give advice."

This might be giving Vern too much credit but this is a surefire way to get what he wants. Feeding a man's ego can accomplish many things. Call it manipulation of the circumstances if you will but no harm done. 

"You know what?” There’s a brightness in his tone, an uptilted cadence in Vern’s rhetorical question. Bingo. “You being the smart one has never been more accurate, Don. Alright, I'll help you."

The notes he takes are unfathomable but he wants to make sure that everything is thought out with careful precision. That's not even taking into account that he needs to muster the courage to ask you out in the first place.

Michelangelo

One would think that this guy would be jumping with unparalleled joy to have someone confess their feelings for him but he's got eyes for someone else. April O'Neil is his one true babycake, his angel face, the first love he had ever known. He turns you down in the friendly way one would expect him to if not a little cocky. Who wouldn't want a piece of the MC Mikey? There aren’t any hard feelings though, right?

Well, no but the sting that follows is still too much for you to handle. Too much in fact that you decide it's best to recoil into a shell of your own and spend less time with the loveable terrapin. Such a shame as well considering you're missing out on your regular gaming sessions together. It probably sucks big time to be rejected but he meant no harm by it. He thought you could still hang out as you normally would. Perhaps you just needed some time. That’s what he reckoned until the days turned to weeks and those weeks to almost two months. 

He’s subjected to playing bystander when you hang out with his family, barely getting a chance to have a word with you alone. If this treatment is good for anything, it gives him a chance to spectate and watch how you interact with those around you rather than directly with him. He recognises how much he adores that sparkle in your eyes, the playfulness of your tone when you crack out jokes with his brothers, how you light up the entire lair when you make your presence known. There is this unshakable spirit within you that he somehow never noticed until a few days prior when you took the liberty of playing an incredibly bold practical joke at Casey's expense. Man, this turtle's heart sored higher than it ever has before, which is saying something considering he had to jump out of a plane once.

Well, colour him surprised. He was so sure of himself that New York's favourite journalist was the only one for him but it seems he was wrong. Oh, man. He's feeling pretty bad now. He can surely make up for what happened though, right? Hopefully. There's only one way of finding out but he has one thing he needs to do first before talking to you.

"I'm sorry, angel face. My sights have been led astray. My loyalty shouldn’t be doubted but it’s for someone else now.” 

The way Mikey is knelt down, head lowered with April’s hands in his own is a perplexing sight if not curiously amusing. His feelings and the pronounced “dibs” on the reporter have been no secret but his recent infatuation with you hasn’t been much of a secret either. Not to her anyway but she likes to think she’s good at picking up on these things. 

“Just know that you'll always have a special place in my heart,” he finishes, ending the overly dramatised display by holding a fist to his chest. 

"Considerate as always." Her expression is somewhere between humoured and endeared, fighting the shake of her head at how adorably ridiculous this turtle can be. "Thanks, Mikey."

Now that's out of the way, he can go into this with a clear head. Although, the only thing really going into this is going to be all of his heart.

[kirosai]

❦ a shining beginning.

content warnings!: sagau, yandere themes, some ooc for the harbingers, cult au, original sagau (reader teleported into genshin), gn!reader

❥The fatui are the ones to fear. The enemy, the antagonists, but, even then you’ve always taken a liking to them. the heartbreaking stories of the harbingers, the motive of the tsaritsa and even the short world quests of the Fatui agents.

❥It was a faraway dream for you, and anyone else to meet the harbingers. They were fictional of course! So… what exactly do you do when you wake up in the shining walls of the Zapolyarny Palace?…

that doctor. dottore. he always prayed upon you in his experiments, hoping they were successful as can be. a man of ice they would call him. but naturally, he’d bow to you. How utterly ironic the man that wants to detest the seven would bow to you. though, you were the light that guided him throughout all of those tireless nights filled with despair. as did you with everyone else. so it’s only natural, right?

so if you could see under that mask you’d see nothing but amazement and respect towards you. i’d bet money on him removing his mask if you wished him to. he’d halt any experiment, any mission, all for you. technically he could say that it’s.. a way of worshiping you, yes? not even her majesty the tsaritsa deserves an ounce of the worship he gives to you on a daily.

tartaglia, or childe as we know, we’ve all met him! you understand don’t you? he’s nothing but loyal, following you around like a guard dog, taking whatever praises he could get out of you!. except. it was all through a wall. a wall he couldn’t break.. you could only think about his reaction to you here. here! right in front of him! The light that guided him through the abyss, the reason for living! you.!

all of his life, until you was pure darkness, you gave him the push he needed! the blood he sheds is all in the name of sacrifice for you. the effort, the tears, the lives, all for you! so please treat him kindly! all he wants is your love and he’ll do anything to get it! although, don’t push him too hard, won’t you grant him the mercy oh kind, enchanting creator?

pantalone. that banker with his smile, his words, sugarcoated for others, but pure sickeningly sweet honey for you. he bought the most expensive gifts for you, diamonds, sapphires, rubies, all that you could imagine. his demeanor to many is nothing but fake, sugar coated lies to make them shut up. but.. you. you were different. you had the one thing he searched for all his life; warmth from this mean, cold world.

your heart was pure gold. at least, as he saw it. nothing he’d seen before. your presence was unexpected, yes, but he secretly hoped that you wouldn’t leave. all he wishes for is to bask in your ever so divine presence. although, yes you deny any sort of yourself being a god. he brushes it off as just a simple test of loyalty, it pushes him more to keep accommodate you to the best of his abilities so you feel the need to stay. oh dear what have you gotten yourself caught into?

with his act of.. er. of trying to understand divine knowledge. scaramouche had missed your first appearance. He felt guilty, and more so angry. not at you of course, but at himself. do not fear. he’ll be back, after hearing the news about your return to teyvat, he’ll be running back like the puppet he is. afterall, you are his true creator.

he might beg for forgiveness, or he might just bow, no matter who’s he is in front of, he’s at your beck and call. and the others respect that, one thing they can all agree with is you. after all, this is just the bare minimum of what they will and can do for you. he just wants you as much as everyone else. being one of the lucky ones meeting you first in the story, he got self awareness sooner than the others. 

arlecchino, we’ve heard of her i'm sure. her loyalty to the tsaritsa is… questionable. although to you, it’s undeniable. something that the others may have a more difficult time of letting go of would be nothing but child’s play for her. she holds no true loyalty for the tsaritsa. and her majesty probably knows so, though she does nothing, because she knows how much you love arlecchino. to upset you would be a death wish.

so being able to see you in all your light and glory was eye-opening for her, looking back she never understood how she could’ve lived without you. as a child she dreamed of meeting you in person, now it’s finally happening! even a regular person could see it in her eyes. oh her eyes! how beautiful they are, she’s heard about you denying being the creator of teyvat, the god of gods, the beginning and the end, oh how she could go on and on! but, going forward, there is no reason to deny the absolute truth your grace!

“Wake up.” a gentle voice whispers.

A shame, you were having the best dream.

A bed, unknown at the least, although it was comfortable. It felt safe, oddly enough. Laying on your mattress, it was lined with white silken sheets, the soft smell of lavender filling your nose, it had the softest place you’ve ever slept on. it felt.. Unfamiliar. 

Ah well, might as well keep sleeping. Maybe your bed was just extra comfortable today..

Wait

Muffled speaking outside the door, the whispers were untranslatable. In a foreign language you guessed. Observing your space, you realized you were in a large room, palace-like, the soft crackle of the fireplace to your left seemed to be the only warmth of the room. not your own room, or even house to say so. It was cold, but beautiful.

Oh! Of course. You must still be dreaming haha. Why else would you be here? Might as well just go back to sleep and wake up. right?

Which is what you do, but the horror of finding out you couldn't, you tried everything you could.. In the span of 3 minutes you tried, going back to sleep, pinching yourself, closing your nose, then just closing your eyes really, really hard.

But, none of those worked, so it must be.. you were actually here. In real life. D-did you get kidnapped? Oh my god you got kidnapped! You have to find a way out, it’s just like those wattpad fanfictions!- holy crap your-

*creeek*

“Your grace? ah, you’re awake. Is everything alright? You gave us quite the scare there. Hmmh.” an all too familiar face.

Staring in awe, realization settles in. Wait… WAIT. That's Pantalone, from genshin impact?? this can't be real! And did he just say “your grace” is he talking about you??

“W-wait? huh? Where am I? and, what do you mean “your grace” ” you can only imagine what you look like right now.

“You’re in the Zapolyarny Palace in Snezhnaya of course. and why else would I be calling you your grace? you are the creator of Teyvat. Though, if you prefer another name, I'll be happy to oblige. ” a soft smile rises to his face. 

Gosh.. his voice is so euphonious. He walks closer to check your temperature, removing his glove and placing a hand on your temple. 

“Seems like your fever is gone.” his smile deepens. Dimples.

And before you can say anything someone else walks in.

All and behold another harbinger, Tartaglia!

“You seem to be getting comfortable. You were sent back to check on their grace, not to hog their attention.” the ginger says.

Flabbergasted, jaw probably hitting the floor, you still cannot understand what in the world is going on.

Pantalone turns to him. “Their grace’s fever has gone down. I’m just doing my duty, no need to be jealous.” his oh so perfect banker smile is put back on, but it seems a little less genuine towards Tartaglia.

“Uhm.. excuse me? But I think you have the wrong person, I'm in no way a god, just a regular person, also, what is happening??!”

the two stare at you, then each other, and back at you again, and then stare at each other.

“Ah... It seems as if the fever has contracted memory loss. Alert the second about this Tartaglia. Other than that. I will help their grace meet the others. maybe that will run their memory right.”

Tartaglia opens his mouth, but whatever he has to say never comes out, curiosity of what he was planning to say plagues you. Though he walks out before the thought can get any further. He’s most likely going to Dottore as told by the ninth.

“Now your grace, I understand your confusion, but let's go to the others. and I'm sure Her Majesty the Tsaritsa would just be delighted to know you are awake.”

a small nod comes from you, excitement spreads through your body, oh my gosh oh my gosh!! You’re going to be meeting The Harbingers and The Cryo Archon!! Although, it seems you're unable to look at the bigger picture of what your story has in store for you.

WHERE THE SAGAU FANS GO????

repost from old blog!

[fcthots]

jason x depressed!reader with "Do you want me to wash your hair?"

You're in your bed, trying to take a nap. You were exhausted, but couldn't fall asleep, and even if you did, it wouldn't go away. Picking up your phone and seeing all the missed texts and calls made it worse. The tv was on some show that you used to love, but now it was just pissing you off. Sleep wouldn't come and everything was making you upset or angry, but you also felt numb. Everything was stupid and you felt trapped in your own head.

Until you heard the door open.

You weren't worried about it being an intruder or anything. Jason made sure your apartment was equipped with oracle approved safety measures when you moved in, but that meant that there were very few people it could be.

You don’t move from your spot, only your eyes and greasy hair peeking out from the blankets. Maybe you didn’t have the energy to get up and run to the bathroom to get ready, but that doesn’t mean you particularly liked anyone seeing you this vulnerable.

He gently opens your bedroom door. The lights are off so he can't tell right away if you're awake or not. He squints until he spots your eyes watching him. He sighs.

His footsteps feel louder than they are. You avert your gaze from his and instead focus your eyes onto his feet walking closer to you.

When he finally makes it to his destination, he doesn't look at you right away. "I'm gonna turn on the lamp."

You shut your eyes and reopen them after you hear the click of the lamp. You squint at Jason's feet again.

His voice holds no judgment or accusation. "Why weren't you answering your phone?"

You want to respond, you do, but you have no excuse to offer him. Your mouth feels heavy with the weight of your guilt. You worried him. He has other things to do and now he's checking on you because you wouldn't pick up the fucking phone and send one text message. And why? Because it was too stressful for you?

He lightly peels the covers back from your face.

"Come back to me. Don't lock yourself up in there. I'm not mad. You didn't do anything wrong. Stop trying to punish yourself."

You finally look at his face in order to squint at him in faux offense. He knows you too well.

He trails his thumb gently up and down your arm. "You good to answer questions?"

You think about it for a minute and nod, despite the fact that you don't exactly feel like like answering questions, afraid of what they will be, but this is Jason after all. He's always mindful of your limits. The hand stills.

"Cool. Do you know how many days it's been since this started? Ballpark?"

You avert your eyes. You feel shameful for not telling him when it started, knowing he asked you to tell him when it happens.

He starts trailing his thumb again. "Try and stay out your head for me. I promise I'm not mad, I'm just trying to figure out how bad the episode is."

You sigh. "Three?" Your voice comes out cracked from disuse.

He watches his hand move against your arm. "Close enough, although I think it may have been 4 days, maybe 5."

You grunt in acknowledgement.

He sighs, not out of exasperation, but in thought. "Do you want me to wash your hair? Like in the sink."

"No. The rest of me is gross too, I don't wanna wash just my hair."

"Well do you feel up to a full shower?"

You feel like you want to cry, but you won't. "No...but I don't want to just wash one part. I don't wanna use all the energy I have left only to get one thing done, but I don't have energy for the rest."

He softly brings his hand to your face. His thumb trails over your cheekbone. "That sounds overwhelming" after a beat, "and exhausting."

You groan and try to hide yourself under the covers, dislodging his hand.

He peels the covers back again. His voice holds sincerity. "How about I give you a bath then? You don't have to do any of the work. I'll do everything. How's that? Sound good?"

You take a moment before tentatively nodding your head.

Jason takes his time helping you up. He supports most of your weight which seems silly because you can technically walk just fine, but you don't pull away all the same. His arm feels warm around your waist as you walk.

"I'll make you something to eat after you get out, assuming you haven't eaten in a while." He's right. You nod. Something eats away at you.

Your steps get slower as you feel heavier with guilt. "You know it won't fix me, right? None of it can." You don't look him in the eyes as you speak.

You watch the furrow of his brows from the corner of your vision. He stops walking so he can look you in the eyes. "I don’t care. I don't care if I have to do this every day for months at a time. I don't care if I have to cook every single meal for you. I'll do all of it and more because I care about you."

"I'm already too much of a burden, I won't allow you too do that for me"

"But you can't make yourself do it right now so what's the plan? To rot away? No. Not happening. You are not a burden. I want to help you. Let me help you."

For him, you'd do anything.

[bellawoso]

I Know Places

Ona Batlle x fem!reader

You and Ona had always been rivals, whether it was national rivals, or club rivals, you always seemed to end up on opposing sides in women’s rival teams.

England vs Spain. Barcelona vs Lyon. And now Manchester United vs Manchester City. With both you and the Spaniard playing for Manchester teams in the WSL, it allowed for you two to see more of each other and eventually extended your rival status to being friends ever since a bad tackle from the brunette, and a follow on instagram from her later that night.

After some casual chatting and the occasional comment on each other’s instagram posts, the defender soon asked you on a date, you were nervous to say the least, but the date went well and after a few more you were quick to start dating.

Being together for over a year now, and being able to live with each other, your relationship was going well. Escaping the prying eyes of fans and photographers was hard, but you and Ona managed. Together.

Until at the end of the season, over dinner Ona told you about Barcelona’s offer for her, it was no surprise the team wanted her back, Ona was well known for her amazing defending in the WSL, so obviously Barça had their eyes on her.

Although you were happy for her, it still hurt, knowing that there would be a sea keeping you two apart, but the both of you were sure that you could do it.

After she left for Spain, you watched every single one of her matches, and she did the same for you. Even after moving teams, she would still never say the dreaded words of ‘Manchester being blue’, which never failed to make you laugh.

Until a few months later, you recieved a call from your manager wanting to discuss potential transfers, you brushed him off quickly saying how you wanted to stay at Manchester City, until you received an email later that night, with a list of all club offers.

One caught your eye, the club offering you the most money was ironic. Real Madrid.

Barcelona’s biggest rival, Camp Nou selling out every time a Barcelona vs Real Madrid match was scheduled.

You immediately called your manager, telling him to accept Real Madrid’s offer, it was a great team, and you had met a few of their players before.

After speaking to your manager, you wondered how exactly you were going to tell Ona about your transfer in the January window, and settled on a simple phone call to break the news to her.

———

Ona was currently at a team bonding night, which were now currently just an excuse to crash at Alexia’s, watch movies and eat all night.

However, recently the brunette had been missing you more than usual, she longed to hold you tight again, and missed the privilege of living with you instead of in a different country.

So when her phone rang, she couldn’t resist waiting until getting home to answer it.

Unbeknown to you, the team already knew about your two’s relationship, after Patri catching Ona watching edits of you, but Ona cut of her teasing by saying ‘She has a right to’, which gave away the fact that you were dating.

“Hola amor” Ona greeted you.

“Hola baby, I have something I need to tell you” you said, your voice sounding serious made Ona sit up straight in her seat, catching the attention of her teammates, who mouthed ‘Que?’ (what?) at her in confusion.

“What’s wrong amor, is everything okay?” Ona asked, worried about your clear state of nervousness.

“No, no nothings wrong Oni, I just thought I would tell you that I’m moving clubs.”

“That’s great, where to amor?” Ona was excited now, the thought of you moving to Barcelona to be with her, like before except this time on the same side for once.

Her teammates had caught on now, excited at the prospect of you joining the team, you were a great central midfielder, Ona offer insisted on watching your games at movie nights if they were live, so many of her teammates were aware of how useful you would be on the team.

“Uh, that’s the thing, promise you wont be mad?”

“Why would I be mad amor? I would never mind wherever you go.” Ona and her teammates were confused now, and Ona was trying to think of the possible clubs you would go to that she would be mad at, however she didn’t realise she was kidding the most obvious one.

Lucy mouthed ‘Lyon’ at her from across the sofa, and most of the girls nodded in agreement.

“Real Madrid.”

“Que?! Real Madrid! Joder!” (What?! Real Madrid! Fuck!)

This caused an outburst amongst her teammates, who were also in just as much shock as Ona about your news.

You let out a laugh at your girlfriend’s antics “Guess we’re rivals again babe”

Your girlfriend only scoffed in response, and you could just imagine the pout on her face as her teammates chatted around her.

“Guess what?” You asked once again.

“Do I really want to know? Is it better news than what I’ve just heard cariño?”

“The first match I play is against you at Camp Nou!” You said excitedly.

Ona only groaned in response.

“I can’t wait to put a few goals past you as well” you said cheekily, as you heard Ona chuckle.

“You wish amor, at least being with me will soothe the sting of your loss against us”

“I’m sure being with you will just be a bonus when we win babe” you replied whilst yawning.

“Are you tired? Go to sleep amor.” Ona said.

“Mhm, I will speak to you in the morning?”

“Sí, buenes noches cariño.”

“Night Oni” you said before hanging up the call.

———

Your signing to Real Madrid was successful, although you were sad to leave your City teammates behind, you were looking forward to playing against your girlfriend again.

As much as your girlfriend hated any colour on you apart from red and blue, she had to admit that the white and gold looked good on you, Alexia had given her a firm warning to not let your relationship affect the game, but Ona didn’t need to hear it. There was no way she was letting you win.

———

The game was intense and Barcelona were already 2 goals up thanks to Aitana and Caro, you came on in the 60th minute, returning from a minor muscle injury, ready to make a difference.

The first goal for Real Madrid came from you after only a few minutes on the pitch. Barcelona’s defence were playing high, leaving you able to get past Ona and Ingrid, and then shoot from just outside the box into the top left corner of the net.

Whilst celebrating with your teammates, you caught eyes of your girlfriend, sending her a subtle wink and a smirk, and she returned with a scoff and a shake of her head.

She could not let you past her again.

In the 80th minute, Olga passed the ball to you allowing you to begin running up the wing, however as you were about to send a cross into the box, your legs were swept from under you, your head hitting the ground leaving a ringing in your ears.

Your ankle ached, and the harsh shrill of the whistle only worsened your growing headache.

“Come on amor, get up for me por favor.” You rolled onto your back to reveal Ona stood above you, worry evident all over her face, until in contorted to one of guilt for hurting you.

However at seeing your girlfriend you forgot all about the foul she just committed on you, and instead sent her a toothy grin, which she chuckled at, before helping you up and whispering a quick apology into your ear.

Ona accepted her yellow-card graciously, and you were awarded with a free kick, which you stepped up to take.

The free kick went just where you wanted it, and immediately found the head of Caicedo, to which she slotted it into the bottom corner, running straight to you to celebrate.

With Barcelona’s recent winnings, the evened out score was unexpected, and it was obvious that many Barça players were getting annoyed, resulting in more dirtier challenges, mainly directed at you.

The game went on into extra time, the referee choosing to give 13 minutes, however it didn’t take long for you to help your team find the back of Barcelona’s net once again, nutmegging your fellow English teammate Lucy, and passing it to Raso, who was able to tap the ball into the goal to put Real Madrid in the lead.

After 4 more minutes of defending from your team, the final whistle blew.

3-2 to Real Madrid, in a sold out Camp Nou stadium.

The win was unexpected after the long list of defeats Madrid has had from Barça, as your teammates went to celebrate with fans, you instead sprinted to your girlfriend who was stood with a defeated look on her face whilst talking to Aitana, Lucy and Keira.

As much as you wanted to hug and pepper your girlfriend in kisses, the fans and cameras would catch it, so instead you settled on shaking her hand and politely asking for a jersey swap with her.

When you successfully retrieved your girlfriend’s jersey, you told her and the others ‘good game’ and told Ona you would meet her at her car, before running off to celebrate with fans.

After signing what seemed like the hundredth jersey, and taking the thousandth picture, you retreated back to the locker room, and got a quick shower before getting dressed.

Your teammates asked you to go to a bar in Barcelona with the Barça team, it was sweet how they all still wanted to celebrate with each other no matter the outcome of the game.

———

You got ready at Ona’s house after she drove the two of you there with a hand on your thigh the entire journey home.

After the two of you were ready, and after you had to push your girlfriend off you for the 8th time she tried to keep you home by attempting to persuade you with repeatedly shoving her tongue down your throat, you eventually got to the bar, only an hour late.

The adrenaline still coursing through your veins combined with the shots and drinks you had drank with your teammates, supplied you with the confidence to saunter over to your girlfriend, and sit down in her lap.

Most of the Barça team had chosen to lay of the drinks, they hadn’t won and so didn’t really feel like celebrating too heavily.

This meant that your sober girlfriend quickly noticed your tipsy state and laughed as you sent her a toothy grin, finding her lap very comfortable.

However, as your sweet pecks on her cheeks turned to you trying to now shove your tongue down her throat, the Spaniard was fast to push you back, leaving you pouting whilst waiting for her reason.

“Amor, people could see, remember?”

You replied with a huff and a simple “I don’t care!” And the continued your assault on her neck, to which she pulled you off her lap completely, leaving you whining at the loss of contact.

“Amor, not here!” Ona scolded playfully.

“I know places baby, no one would see!”

Ona only shook her head at your statement, she was not going to go any further than kissing whilst you weren’t 100% sober.

“We should probably get back, I want you to spend your last day tomorrow with me instead of hungover in bed amor”

As drunk as you were, you registered Ona’s words and agreed with her, so you let the brunette defender lead you to her car, as she took you back to hers.

———

You did not remember much from last night, your splitting headache and sore limbs only an indication of how much you had to drink last night before Ona took you home.

You reached for your phone, and were shocked to see thousands of notifications from instagram.

Opening the app, you only laughed in response to what you saw, the candid photo someone had taken was beautiful and captured the love both you and Ona felt for each other.

———

barcafanupdates

y/n yl/n and ona batlle spotted at bar in barcelona last night.

liked by user1, user2 and 68,783 others.

comments:

user1: they’re so cute together

user2: rivals?! I want this now!

user3: stop this is so funny- the fact they’ve only ever been on rival teams.

———

yourusername

although it was nice hidden, i guess it’s now time for the world to know your mine

tagged: onabatlle

comments:

onabatlle: amor, te amo ❤️

mapileon: I guess I can tolerate a *gag* Madrid player for Ona.

-> ingridengen: Mapi! Be nice.

user4: and they were rivals…

user5: them casually making out in a bar after Madrid defeated Barça is my Roman Empire 😭

———

[meowshark12]

i know it won't work (rc)(4)

series summary: you're best friends with topper, kelce, and rafe. it has never bothered you to see them with other girls, knowing that they usually only have flings, but, when rafe gets what appears to be a girlfriend, how does this change things?

(not canon)rafe x kook!reader, original characters

chapter 4 summary: day on the boat. another party. jealousy. do our protagonists finally become aware??

warnings: some violence kinda not really graphic tho

1 2 3 4

6.2k words OOPS SORRY

not very proofread toward the bottom. hope you like it though.

chapter 4: the druthers

You step on to the boat, the familiar feeling of the ebb and flow of the waves already lulling you into a false sense of comfort. You're greeted by Rafe with a "Hey," and a small smile and by Amber with a look that you can't exactly decipher. You ignore her, but you don't miss how his eyes dart away from you after his glance lingers for a second too long.

"Hey guys!! Who wants a drink?" Kelce announces as he is the last one to step foot on the boat. He always has known how to break the tension quite well. The awkwardness is forgotten as you all greet Kelce and begin to make yourselves comfortable on the familiar yacht you have embarked. You give Kelce a quick hug and he hands you your favorite drink, already prepared for you.

Your boys were always attentive to you, Stella, and Macey. Always remembering your favorite drinks, knowing the most obscure things about you (your obsession with your favorite animal, Macey's lego collection, and why Stella loved crab rangoons so much), and making sure to be friendly with and respected by your parents. Though none of you had ever pursued any of the others, you knew there had to be small crushes that each person had but chose to bury.

Macey was the most obvious about it, pining after Topper without a care in the world. She would always say it was a joke, but, when he started dating Sarah, she was more than joking with how upset she was. Topper liked the attention and would probably get with her if she made the first move, and only if there would be no consequences.

Everyone loves Stella. She's the most beautiful and down to earth girl. She was the mediator of your friend group, almost impossible not to love her. Stella had never mentioned it, but you could tell that she liked the attention that Kelce gave her. He liked her too (obviously), though he tried to hide the blush that creeped up his neck when she gave him various compliments or when her touch lingered too long.

Rafe was always the toughest to crack. Though he took the most comfort in you, telling you about his family and other things that he didn't even tell the boys, it was always hard to tell what Rafe was thinking.

You had never had a favorite, though you seemed to always gravitate more toward Rafe. Maybe it was something about his looks, his captivating blue eyes and effortless handsomeness drawing you in. Or maybe it was the way he seemed to need you sometimes, not opening up to anyone but you, calling you whenever he just needed someone to talk to. But you felt like you treated all the boys equally.

None of the boys had ever seemed to crush on you.

This is not to say you aren't enchantingly beautiful. The boys are your best friends, but they were first pulled in by your beauty and charming personality. The main reason Rafe and Kelce wanted Topper to bring you (and your friends) along was because they wanted to know why such a gorgeous girl wanted to hang around Topper. But, you had never noticed anyone reacting to you the way they did to others. Although this didn't hurt your feelings. You were glad to have such good friends, and it wasn't like you felt that you were missing something.

Last summer, the Druthers was your group's favorite spot to hangout during the hot summer days where you found yourselves in need of some entertainment. Kelce would always suggest taking a dip in your pool (which you had all done millions of times before), but Rafe had managed to save you from hosting many times by coaxing Kelce onto the Druthers with a beer in hand and the promise of free beer and food all day long.

Since Ward was away for most of last summer, you spent most of your time on that boat, laying out, swimming, drinking, napping, dancing, partying, etc. You name it, it probably happened on that boat.

Your favorite memory of the Druthers was the day it started storming out of nowhere. Nobody had checked the weather, anticipating that the day would be as sunny as it was long. But, the 6 of you were mid-dip in the water when the storm clouds on the horizon began rolling in faster than you had thought possible.

Before you knew it, the sky was black and it was pouring down rain right on you and your friends who were still in the water.

Instead of getting out, you began laughing and floated on your back, letting the rain water cascade over your body to disappear in the water beneath you. Soon after, your other friends joined you, all enjoying the rain, until the thunder struck.

When you heard the thunder, the six of you raced back to the boat (Kelce won) and hurried to get under the cover.

Your bag was the only one left out on the deck and your belongings were already soaked. You decide to enjoy the feeling of the rain, since your dry clothes and towel were already wet and there was no saving them, but Rafe comes over to you after a few minutes and drags you to the covered portion of the yacht.

"What the hell were you doing out there??" he asks bewildered. Water hangs on to his features, tracing lines over the contours of his face.

"Sorry! All my stuff was wet and I wouldn't have a towel, so I figured I would appreciate the rain! We haven't gotten rain all summer." you explain, still dripping wet and clad in your swimsuit, feeling self conscious as those around you are already covered by their towels. You cross your arms around yourself.

"Oh my god, yn. You're something else..." he trails off, laughing slightly and pinching the bridge of his nose before he speaks again. "You know Rose stocks this thing with like a million towels, right?" he pauses, then says, "c'mon, I'll get you one"

You follow behind him down the hallway, the boat rocking and causing your wet feet to slip slightly on the tile floor. Rafe stops in front of a closet, and, sure enough, it was full to the brim with expensive, monogrammed towels. He hands you one.

"Thank you," you say, looking up at him. "I'm sorry... you really didn't have to come get me. I would've been fine and come in eventually." you begin to explain while wrapping the towel around your shaking shoulders.

"It's fine, yn..." he begins, "I just didn't want you to freeze to death, or slip and fall and hit your head... or... I don't know, I was just worried about you and I don't want to be the one in charge if something bad happens to you." he finishes, looking somewhat distraught as he looks back into your eyes.

"Rafe." you say, and he couldn't be more attentive if he tried, "I promise, I would've been fine. I was on my way back in when you came to get me anyway." you lie with a smile. At this, he nods and looks into your eyes, the light reflecting just right to make them hold onto his attention more than ever before. You're basically having a staring contest at this point, for nobody has spoken in almost a minute.

His gaze trails over the rest of your face, and he notices that you're still trembling and your lips are a shade of purple.

"Okay, fine. Just come with me" he finally says, and you follow him down to one of the bedrooms on the boat. The bedroom was clearly his, resembling the one he had at Tanneyhill quite well and the pictures on the wall were a dead giveaway. He goes into a drawer and pulls out a pair of gray sweatpants, a pair of socks, and an old UNC hoodie, one that you haven't seen since the first few times you met Rafe. "Change into this."

"Rafe, it's fine." you protest, but he cuts you off.

"No, yn." he shoves the clothes into your arms. "Your clothes are soaked and I can't have you getting hypothermia on me. Just change and come upstairs." He says, and with that he leaves the room.

After you change, you head back up to where your friends are gathered, still drinking and carrying on. The rain clearly did not affect their high spirits.

"There you are!" says Stella. "Nice outfit. We are trying to get the tv to work but Rafe must be poor or something and his Netflix won't work out here." she explains, making a jab at Rafe.

"Hey, hey, okay give me the remote and I'll get it to work." Rafe comes to his own defense and the rest of you laugh.

You sit down next to Kelce, and Topper comes over to you with a drink in each hand, one for you of course. You quietly thank him before he leaves to sit in a chair, and you begin listening in on the conversation that Stella, Macey, and Kelce are having ('is water wet?' like Kelce starts it bc you were just rained on in water and he's like 'but does that mean the water is now wet' and the girls are like 'ur dumb').

You're sat on the large couch with Kelce, while Stella and Macey share a smaller one. Topper is in a chair across from the girls. Rafe stands in front of you all, trying to fix the tv. As the conversation dies down, the focus is turned to Rafe.

He is clearly not making any progress, as he turns the tv off and puts the remote on the table, announcing "we don't talk enough, lets not watch tv and just talk to each other for once!" and he sits next to you on the couch.

The events of today are already not beginning to mirror your favorite day on the Druthers.

For one thing, there are seven of you. An odd number, always leaving someone out. For another thing, Rafe was totally preoccupied by Amber, leaving the five of you to wonder why you were on his boat in the first place.

The five of you sat on the deck, lounging and each of you with a drink in your hand. Rafe and Amber were inside, doing God only knows what.

You lay sprawled out, your legs over Toppers lap as he sat up beside you. Kelce mirrored Topper on your other side, his sunglasses on and arms on either side of the boat behind him. Stella was engrossed in her book and her vodka cran, and Macey sat next to Topper with her legs out on a table, nursing her beer. The five of you were quiet, enjoying each others company, yet still somehow on edge because of the presence of a plus-one.

Almost an hour passes before one of you speaks.

"Why aren't we swimming?" Topper says after finishing his third beer. Your ears perk up at this, excited at the idea of getting into the water.

"I'm down," Kelce says, to which you all agree. By the time you all are ready to get in the water, Rafe and Amber appear out of thin air, ready to swim right along side you.

Rafe is on your right, Amber to his right, as you are preparing to jump off the boat.

"Going swimming without me?" he teases, but you aren't in the mood for his antics right now.

"Didn't think you'd ever come back outside," you say, and you follow your words with a swift dive under the surface of the cool water beneath you.

The rest of your friends (Topper, Kelce, and your girls) jump in after you, not totally sure what you had responded to Rafe, but excited to swim nonetheless.

You look up to see Rafe and Amber staring at you from the deck, but you begin to float on your back before you can find it in you to care that she's here. The five of you swim around for a few minutes before they coming wading over to you.

"Oh, look who decided to join us," Macey mumbles to nobody in particular. You stifle a laugh, not wanting to draw attention to yourselves.

The seven of you swim for a while with no issues, other than Amber clinging to Rafe like she had never been in water higher than her knees. Stella is the first to go back on to the boat after about 30 minutes, and the rest of you follow.

You are on the deck, drying off, when you hear Amber complain. "Rafey, my shirt is all wet, I can't wear this!!" she cries to Rafe. The nickname is new.

You shoot a look to your friends. "Rafey?" you mouth to Macey. She rolls her eyes.

Rafe looks at you and your friends before he looks back to her.

"Why don't you just wear your bathing suit top for a while? We aren't leaving any time soon," he suggests, knowing that the five of you (just the boys to his face) would make fun of him endlessly for giving a girl his clothes.

"Ugh, no. I'm not doing that. I don't do my 10-step skincare routine just to get sunburnt." she replies, which you had to admit was a somewhat valid point. But, as she holds her shirt in her had, you notice that it is mostly dry.

"Fine," Rafe says, "follow me," and they go upstairs.

When they return, Amber is wearing Rafe's UNC sweatshirt.

--

While on the boat together, the four of you were told by Topper that there would be a boneyard party tonight. You all agreed to have Topper drive there in his Jeep, bringing you five.

So, you and your girls got together at Stella's house after to get ready and pregame (though, to be honest, you were still buzzed from earlier).

Stella let you borrow a top of hers, a pretty, lacey top that was the perfect color on your skin tone and fit you like a glove, while you wore a pair of jean shorts and sandals.

The three of you were buzzing with excitement. Boneyard parties included all sides of the island, including hot pogues and hot tourons. You all needed to branch out sometimes, which was why the boneyard parties (usually only around once or twice a summer) were the best.

It was around 9pm when Macey gets a call from Topper, assuming they are on their way. She picks it up.

"Hey, you on your way?" she asks, though the question was rather rhetorical.

"...about that..." Topper trails, one hand on the wheel, the other holding his phone. Macey puts the call on speaker.

"what the fuck do you mean 'about that' Top? You're on your way, aren't you?" she asks, still thinking he's joking.

"So basically... well, I guess that you could say," he begins again before he is interrupted by another voice.

"Is that yn?" the voice says, "Give me the phone" and before you know it, you were talking to Rafe.

"YN! Hey, so, Top wanted to give me and Amber a ride, so there's no more room in the car with the four of us, so you and Stels and Mace are gonna have to find another way there, kay?" he says in a drunken ramble and you hear Topper protest on the other end. The three of you were seething.

"Rafe. Give the phone back to Topper." Macey says.

"Kay, don't be mad, see you later bye" he finishes, clearly happy with how he delivered the news.

"Topper what the fuck is wrong with you??" Macey nearly yells.

As Topper begins to defend himself, you pull out your phone to start texting other people to give you a ride. Your phone hovers over the name, but you find yourself mad enough at the boys that you quickly type out a message and hit send anyway.

Before you know it, you're sat in the passenger seat of John Townsends Audi convertible on your way to the boneyard. Your girls are behind you in the backseat, and you are nearly there.

"Thanks again for taking us," you say to John with a small smile. He pulls in to the parking lot of the beach. He looks over at you.

"Anytime." He says and looks into your eyes. His gaze lingers over your face.

"Ok ladies let's go!" Macey announces, clearly drunk enough to ruin a moment.

The four of you exit the car, you and John following behind Stella and Macey, close enough to see them, but far enough that you can't hear a word they're saying.

"I hope you know, I kinda missed you." John says as you reach the edge of the beach. He takes your hand.

"Only kinda??" you say, and the two of you laugh lightly. He shakes his head at your joke, and you continue through the silence that settles. "I hope you know that my friends will lose their minds if they see us together," you say, but you let him take your hand anyway.

"I hope you know that I don't really care what they think," he whispers and kisses you on the hand before leading you into the boneyard party.

Stella and Macey are already waiting for you with a beer from the keg in their hands. They pull you out of John's grasp, but it wasn't missed by anyone that the two of you came in together.

John walks over to his friends, who greet him with a pat on the back. You are pulled over to yours. Kelce, Topper, Rafe, and Amber stand together.

"What the fuck." Kelce is the first to speak. You're not as mad at Kelce, so you just give him a small shrug.

"No really, yn, what the fuck?" Topper asks.

"Oh I'm sorry, I thought I was supposed to get another ride?" you say incredulously, pretending you don't know what is wrong with your actions.

"Not with that guy, yn." Topper responds. He looks between Rafe and Kelce. Kelce has a look of betrayal on his face, while Rafe has a look of pure hatred.

"I don't understand, John is like super nice!" Amber comes to your defense.

"You can date him then, Amber." Topper bites back, staring at you.

You let there be a few seconds of silence before speaking again.

"So was I just supposed to not come to the party then?" You ask, wondering what the right option was. Topper rolls his eyes and pulls you aside from the group, who begin to interrogate Stella and Macey about how long 'this' has been rekindled.

"Yn." Topper says.

"What, Top?" you ask, "I really don't understand what's so wrong about him taking us here because you wouldn't! It's not like he was my first choice or anything."

"Yn, you could've had anyone on our side of the island come and pick you up and you chose him, of all people?" he responds.

"Top, you were supposed to pick me up. But you didn't. So I texted him. This is not totally my fault. If you wouldn't have picked up Rafe and Amber instead of us..." he interrupts you.

"Rafe begged us for a ride!! He wanted us to take him and Amber and leave early so we could leave her here." Topper blurts out, leaving you more than confused.

"What?" you begin to ask but are interrupted by Stella.

"Macey just threw up." She says, looking between you and Topper. The two of you point at each other at the same time, as if to say 'not my job!' Topper rolls his eyes and walks over to where Macey is sat on a log, hunched over.

When you arrive, trailing behind Topper, you see Rafe and Kelce on either side of Macey to support her as she stays hunched. Kelce is talking to her, while Rafe tries (and fails) to tie her hair out of her face. Amber is nowhere to be found.

"We've got it from here, boys." Stella says to Rafe and Kelce. You walk around the log on the side Rafe is sat on. He looks up at you and gives you a look that is rather hard to read, when you offer him your hand to help him up. He takes your hand and you help him, but you weren't fully prepared for his weight (and drunkeness) and he fell into you. You stop his momentum with a hand on his chest, still holding his hand in your other one.

"Sorry," he says meekly, your hands still together. You laugh it off and take Rafe's seat, and Stella takes Kelce's. The boys walk away, except Topper.

"Hi, Macey girl" you begin, using the nickname and singsongy voice you only use when she's in need of some support. "You doing ok?" you ask, genuinely concerned because, if Stella came over to you, that meant it was serious.

She mumbles something that you don't quite catch, when Topper says that he will just take her home.

"You don't have to do that, Top," you say, about to offer to drive her when you realize you have no car to transport her in.

"Yeah, Topper, I'm ok." Macey says, and there is a silence that follows. That is, until Macey throws up again right in front of Topper.

"I'm gonna take you home." Topper says finally.

"I'll go with you," Stella offers, "I'll ride in the back with her so she doesn't throw up."

"I might as well go too then, it's gonna be no fun without you guys here." You add.

"No, yn, you should stay with Kelce and Rafe. You're the most sober here, you should keep an eye on them. I'll come and get you guys after I bring Mace and Stella home." Topper says, already getting up with Macey and pulling his keys out of his pocket before you can object.

They walk away and, before you know it, the Jeep is gone down the road. You make your way over to the fire, hoping to find some semblance of your friends. You run into John, who has clearly had more to drink than when he brought you here, since he is stumbling all over you and trying to get you to dance with him. You promise him a dance another time, and set out further on your way.

You finally find Kelce after around 15 minutes of searching. He's at the keg, and you let out a sigh of relief. But you still don't know where Rafe is.

"Hey. They took Macey home, and Topper will be back for us later." you say, looking around for Rafe as you do.

"Okay," Kelce begins, "did Stella go too then?" he asks, his question hinting at a crush that Kelce might have on a certain someone.

You raise an eyebrow at him. "Yes... she went too." you pause, seeing that he has accepted it. You move on, "Where's Rafe?" you say, finally getting to your point.

Now, it's Kelce's turn to raise an eyebrow. "Why do you ask?" he says, voice obviously hinting at something.

"What do you even mean? I just wanted to know where he is, Topper told me to keep an eye on you two because you're apparently super hammered." You say.

"Oh, well, I don't know, it just seems to me like you might have a little crush on Rafe." he says, wiggling his eyebrows.

"What??" you ask, "Kelce you're crazy, Rafe's my best friend, just like you and Topper."

"He might be your best friend, but it's not just like me and Topper, that's for sure." He says finally.

"Oh my god, you really are hammered." you say. "Where was the last place you saw him? Topper will be here to pick us up soon."

"Last I saw he was making out with Amber behind that tree." Kelce says, searching you for a reaction. When he doesn't get one, he continues, "Ok fine I saw him go out behind the dunes. but don't be too long getting him because I want to go home"

You ignore the last part, setting out to go behind the dune. When you pass Amber on her way back, all she says to you is, "Good luck, he told me he didn't want to talk."

And it seemed like good luck was what you had. You sat down next to Rafe, and he put his forehead straight onto your shoulder. You reach your hand up to rest on his head, and you lean your head onto his. You slowly feel your arm dampen, but you ignore the tears because that seems like what Rafe would want you to do. You couldn't tell if he was drunk and emotional, or just emotional.

You let a minute go by before you speak. "You wanna talk about it?" you ask, not expecting an answer.

"Not really," he mumbles into your shoulder.

"Okay," you say back. You wait another minute before speaking again. His head has turned to look out at the water. You turn to him before you say, "If you don't want to talk now, we don't have to. But Kelce wanted me to get you quick because he wants to go home. Is that ok?" you say, gauging his response to get an insight into how he is really feeling.

He laughs, but it doesn't reach his eyes like it usually would. "Yeah, that's fine." He says. Neither of you move. He finally lifts his head off your shoulder and stands up, offering you his hand. You take it, and he pulls you up without anyone falling onto anyone else. He doesn't drop your hand.

You lead him to find Kelce, where you two separate to wrangle him and both are then able to get him into the front seat of Topper's Jeep.

"What took you so long?" Topper asks.

"Just couldn't find these freaks, and then, once I did, Kelce tried to run away and drink even more." You say, covering Rafe's tracks. "You're babysitting him tonight, by the way." You say to Topper.

"That's fine, we are all staying at your house anyway." he mentions without even so much as a look in the mirror at you.

"What?!" you say.

"Your parents aren't home, and we have two, maybe three, drunk people who need help. Mine are home and they hate when we come home drunk."

"Fine, as long as you're taking care of Kelce." You say.

He agrees. You turn to look at Rafe, who is looking out the window of the car. You tap his hand that is on the seat next to you. He looks and gives you a small smile before looking back out the window.

You arrive to your house, where Topper pulls in the driveway. Topper is able to get Kelce out of the car and into the house before either you or Rafe move an inch.

"You wanna go in?" you ask. He doesn't move, but you know he heard you.

"Not really," he says honestly, turning to face you.

"Let's go in." you say, grabbing his hands together. "We can order pizza and watch Revenge of the Sith if you want?" you suggest, throwing out his favorite movie and his favorite meal to cheer him up at least a little bit.

"...okay, if you insist." he says with a hint of a smile on his face, and he follows you out of the car and inside.

You order the pizza when you get inside after you check on both Macey (who is sound asleep in your guest room) and Kelce (who is laying restlessly in your brother's bed asking Topper where Stella is). You come back to the living room where you see Stella sitting on one of your couches talking to Rafe, and you send her up to Kelce. There is quiet as you watch her ascend the stairs. You clear your throat and turn to Rafe, who is sat on the other couch.

"I ordered the pizza, it should be here soon." you say, trying to break the ice. He looks at you in acknowledgement and then turns back to his phone.

You come to stand in front of him, the backs of your legs touching the coffee table that is centered in the room, and the front of your knees just barely brushing the inside of his thighs. You sit down on the table, something your mother would reprimand you for, and Rafe puts his phone down.

He avoids your gaze. "You know I'm gonna ask you what's wrong, right?" you say, obviously.

"I know," he says, and he looks down, "I was just kinda waiting to see if you would forget about it."

"I wasn't gonna forget about it, you know that." you say honestly, looking at him as he finally meets your eyes. His blue eyes shine with the hint of a tear forming, and you admire how he still manages to look good even after he has cried.

He sighs, wiping under his eyes before a tear can escape. "Its just that..." he pauses, and your eyes prompt him to continue with his sentence, "tomorrow is the anniversary of the day my mom died, and Ward and Rose are leaving to go to the Bahamas." he finishes.

"Oh wow, Rafe, I didn't realize, I'm so sorry." you say, and that's all you can really manage to get out. You put your hand on his leg.

"Its really ok," he tries to brush the feelings off, "I just thought my dad still cared about her a little bit, even though he's with Rose now I thought he would still think about her sometimes or even know the day she passed away." he pauses his ramble, "It just still hurts a lot more than I thought it would, you know?" he says finally, sitting up and moving toward the edge of the couch, his elbows resting on his knees. Your legs are nearly intertwined, your hand still on his leg.

"It's definitely not 'okay', Rafe. This is a big deal. How you feel is a big deal... to me especially. I'm so sorry that it seems like Ward doesn't care." You pause, noticing that his hand is resting on his leg close enough that his fingers brush both your hand and your leg that is in between his. "...I promise you that this is important, and it's more than okay that you are still grieving her. She was so amazing. I have no idea what it's like, and I'm so sorry that you have to know."

"Thanks, yn" he says, but you know your words aren't going to heal his pain completely. You smile at him. He grabs your hands and gives them three tight squeezes when the doorbell rings.

"I'll get it, it's probably just the pizza," you look through the peephole of your front door, and you see John, looking out of breath and leaning on your doorframe.

You open the door, "Oh, hey, John," you say, loud enough for Rafe to hear and hopefully come over to the door. "What are you doing here?"

"I just needed to make sure you got home okay," he slurs, running a hand through his hair. He looks past you into your house and you close the door a little bit.

"Oh, yeah, all good, thanks for checking." you say, confused how he got here since his car wasn't in your driveway.

"Yeah of course... I ran here once I noticed you were gone. I just needed you to be safe." he explains, getting closer to you and stumbling as you back away slightly.

"Yep, all good here." you begin to tell him goodbye when he interrupts.

"Is that Topper's car?" he asks, his words blending together, and you nod. "...oh yeah, I was just thinking that's weird because you asked me to give you a ride because you didn't want to ride with Topper, and now he's here..."

"...well Topper is still my best friend, I couldn't be mad at him for too long, plus we worked everything out." you start, and you finish by saying, "so, thanks for checking in, I really appreciate it, but we are all good!"

"yeah of course, so what are you up to now?" he begins, looking into the house behind you again.

"Hey what's taking so long?" Rafe comes up to you, and his confidence falters slightly when he sees John. "What is he doing here?"

"He was just leaving, Rafe. He just wanted to check in on us and make sure everyone was safe." you explain, never having seen the two boys interact. All you knew was that Rafe hated him, and John wasn't so fond of Rafe either.

"Yeah just wanted to make sure my girl was okay, you know?" John says, and Rafe steps forward, blocking you from sight due to his tall and broad stature.

"Yeah, she's fine. So, why don't you get going now, huh?" Rafe says, clearly trying to hold back the anger that was sparked in him by the comment that John made about you being 'his girl'. If anything you were Stella's girl, Macey's girl, Your Boys' girl, Rafe's girl, most definitely not John Townsend's girl.

"I don't know... yn was just about to invite me in to stay for a while, said she missed me" John lies, drunkenly trying to get a rise out of Rafe. And whether it was Rafe's emotions talking, or whether Rafe just really wanted to punch John Townsend in his stupid pretty-boy face, one punch was thrown, and then suddenly the boys are fighting on your front porch.

You tried to get them to stop, but it was no use. The pizza guy pulls into the driveway a minute or so later, and Rafe stops beating on poor John's pretty face. John stands and gives Rafe one final shove before walking away. "Bye, yn, text me if you're ever tired of these losers." he says, and with that, he was gone. Rafe is still breathing heavily. You tip the pizza guy and he leaves very soon after his arrival.

"Come on, let's get you cleaned up." you say, hoping that Rafe will follow you inside. He waits until John is out of sight, then he does, you place the pizza box on the counter, and you begin rummaging through your cabinets for your first aid supplies.

"Sit," you command, once you've found the supplies. He sits, and, even sitting, he is almost eye level with you. You begin to clean one of the wounds he has on his face, the one that already seems to be swelling.

"You didn't have to do that," you say after a few minutes go by.

"I know." he responds.

"I hate it when you fight," you say.

"I know." he responds.

"This bruise looks like it's gonna hurt pretty bad tomorrow," you begin.

"You should see the other guy." he says and tries to crack a small smile.

You smile sadly, thinking about the handful of other times you'd had to patch Rafe up. "I remember the first time I ever had to do this," you begin to reminisce, "you had gotten into a fight with someone in school about something in ninth grade gym class, and then they sent you to the nurse before you could go to the principal's" you say, laughing lightly at the memory, and you finish cleaning the cut near his eye.

He smiles, "you were in the nurse for a migraine, and you told me she was out for a little but that you could try your best to help me." You pick up his hand, cleaning the cuts on his knuckles from 'the other guy'

"yeah, that was when I was convinced I was gonna be a nurse, so I was determined to patch up your skinned elbow really well so maybe the nurse would hire me." you say, laughing at the memory as you finish putting a bandage on his knuckles. "I shouldn't keep having to do this," you joke, but you don't drop his hand.

"You should stop making me get in fights over you," he retorts quietly without thinking, looking up at you and hoping you didn't realize what he said.

"You should stop getting in fights... wait, over me?" you say, perplexed. He looks away, before he gets up from the chair and clears his throat.

"Let's put the pizza in the fridge, if we aren't gonna eat any now?" he says while packing up the pizza into a bag.

"Why did you say that?" you ask, still frozen in place.

"Say what? We should put this pizza away if we aren't gonna eat it." he says, acting oblivious.

"No, Rafe, the other thing." you say, expecting an answer.

"We can just talk about it later. It's nothing." he says, and he finishes packing up the pizza and puts it in the fridge.

"Really?" you say, now leaning on the counter.

"Yes, really, yn." he responds, walking past you and giving you a small squeeze on the shoulder before heading upstairs and leaving you by yourself in the kitchen.

"Goodnight, yn" he says quietly as he leaves.

"...goodnight." you say, still confused.

a/n sorry started school this week forgot to post. hope you enjoy, not [proofread!

🏷️list: @flvredcas @rafesno1bae @kiiyomei @silkylovey @girlwedontcare @sunny1616 @asterizee @pillowprincess4him @patychieffi @rafeslittleangel @anightlikethisss @drewsdirtyslut @mattyskies @theyluvmesblog @gothamgirl2024 @ujws5 @kmhbygss @kaiparkerwifes

[pedgito]

𝐬𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐫𝐮𝐥𝐞𝐬 ✎ 𝐝𝐚𝐝!𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐱 𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

summary: eddie doesn’t have his life together any better than the next person, but for his daughter, he fakes it well. all he really needed was balance, but he wasn’t sure that even existed—not until you.

cw: 18+ (for safety), mechanic!eddie, reader and eddie are the same age (29/30ish), girl dad!eddie, mentions of loss/death, mentions of miscarriage/stillborn (briefly), more than your typical sass from a small child, reader is great with kids (obviously), mostly just a bunch of meet-cutes and fortunate circumstances that help push eddie toward reader, if i missed anything lmk!

word count: 11k — part two

Eddie never imagined he would in this position, not in a million fuckin’ years. While he would trade it for the world, days like these made his skin crawl, the anxiety creeped in, all the worst feelings you could feel as a person—and more specifically, a parent.

She’s the spitting image of him, curly hair and big doe eyes that she could sick on anyone to get exactly what she wanted. It was a proven fact that had worked on Eddie countless times. She’s got his habitual nose scrunch, always making a face when she’s upset or mad, arms crossed over her chest as she sits and pouts. There couldn’t have been more of a carbon copy than her and Eddie didn’t know how to handle it half the time. 

“Okay,” Eddie breathes, plopping his daughter onto the counter, “Shoes,” He taps her light up sneakers, “Check.” He scans her over once, all clothes accounted for, matching socks, a small jumper to keep her warm during class, “Hair—“ He takes a moment, examining the sloppy attempt at pigtails, “it’s gonna have to work.”

“Dad,” Her voice drags, soft and melodic as she stares up at him in annoyance, “breakfast?”

“Shit—right,” Eddie facepalms in frustration, turning to rummage through the fruit bowl on his counter, picking out a semi-ripe banana and offering it to the girl, “that’ll do.”

“Language,” She sings, using her brute strength to rip open the peel, a small grunt escaping her, “—you owe a dollar to the jar.”

It still amazes him how well-spoken she is for her age, five nearing six and still able to keep up with him in conversation and sometimes even leaving him speechless, her comments just as fiery as his own. She did a good job keeping him in check, grounded, and never taking himself too seriously.

“Ri,” He begs, “you’re cleaning me out.”

“You know the rules, dad.” She smiles, taking a ferocious bite of her banana, speaking with a full mouth, “pay up, please.”

Eddie huffs begrudgingly, swiping his wallet from his back pocket and plucking out a single collar, slipping it into the jar on the shelf near their front door, the thing was bursting at the seams almost.

“Okay so,” Eddie turns back toward her, “what did we talk about?”

“Manners—please and thank you,” She says, counting her with tiny fingers, “no mean looks to the other kids, and—“

She stops, the memory spilling her brain.

“And no F bombs from you either.” Eddie warns, poking softly at her chest. “Even if it was only once.”

“It was part of the song—“ She argues, mouth turning down at the corners in frown.

“Riley.” Eddie says more sternly, causing her to shrink slightly.

“Okay,” She answers softly, taking smaller bites of the banana until it’s nearly gone, she glances at the digital clock on the microwave and glances back at her dad, who still seems completely frazzled, “—I thought school started at eight.”

“It does.” Eddie nods, slipping his wallet back into his pocket and gathering his things for work; lunch, tools, although surely he was still missing something.

“Look.” She tells him, finger pointing just past his head.

Eddie turned, eyes widening at the numbers appearing back to him.

7:50. 

It was the first day and he was already starting off on the wrong foot, but given his track record, he couldn’t really be surprised. 

Eddie quickly lifts Riley from the counter and places her down, letting her run for her backpack on the couch—a faded, black backpack that Eddie got from Wayne a few weeks ago; money was tight, but he always tried to make the best of their situation. He ironed a few of his old patches from his favorite bands he had stored away and even the one he’s gotten made of his old band as a joke, a true one of a kind. He wanted to save it for something special—or someone. Luckily, that was Riley.

“Alright,” He says, clapping his hands together loudly, “let’s go, go, go.” 

Riley’s feet pitter patter underneath him as he chases after her, urging her out of the trailer—the one he rented out just beside his uncle, as much as he’d hoped to get out of this town, he couldn’t think of a better place to be held up in.

Eddie’s never been a stickler for rules—and he makes it with a couple minutes to spare, but no one needed to know about him driving a smidge over the speed limit to get Riley to school on time. 

He feels immensely underdressed around the other crowd of parents—and noticing the one obvious factor, most of them were women. He realizes it shouldn’t matter much, but it was also painfully obvious that he was all over the place, clothes slightly dirtied from grease stains and general car grossness. It didn’t matter how much he washed them, the stains were coming out. 

Riley’s eager, unbuckling herself and opening her own door before Eddie can even reach her, suffocating his hand in a tight grip as she yanks him along, humming along to a tune that Eddie can only guess is from a morning cartoon. When it came to music she sang her heart out, an obvious sign that he was hers—she loved music.

“Come on, dad,” She complains, Eddie’s feet keeping up with her hurried steps, “we can’t be late.”

“For a five year old you’re incredibly bossy.” Eddie notes, her giggling trailing down the hall as they entered the school. 

She eyes the walls with rapt attention, all decked out with arts and crafts, eye-grabbing from every angle. Eddie had made a point to remember the name of his teacher, at least, if anything. So, when she trails just a little further than she needs to, Eddie’s pulling her back with a hand against her chest.

“Woah, hold your horses.” Eddie chuckles, her body knocking into his chest as he knelt down. “Do you want me to walk you in or are you okay?”

The soft scuff of soles on the tile floor pull Eddie’s attention up, eyes landing on you. You offer a friendly smile amongst the chaos—crying kids, worried parents, and all the restless energy a small child could carry this early in the morning. 

“Hi.” You greet cheerfully, addressing yourself formally, hand extended for him to shake. Eddie’s still squatting at Riley’s side but his hand extends too, enveloping yours in a gentle grip, a polite handshake.

You sense the nervousness of the young girl before you, squatting down to her level as well, “You must be Riley.” You guess accordingly, seeming as she was the last kid on your list to show up, her face beamed with a brightness that was entirely too infectious. You introduce yourself to her too, shaking her smaller hand in greeting. 

“Alright kid,” Eddie pats her back softly, standing slowly as his knees groan in protest. Eddie was nearing his thirties and not nearly as nimble as before, with a mix of aging and his job it seemed like his body was wearing away faster than he liked, “you ready?”

“Oh,” You interrupt, standing too, “you can come inside and see where’s she sitting if you’d like and if you have any quick questions I can answer them.”

Eddie blanks for a moment, but is quickly pulled out of it when Riley tugs at his hand in excitement, “Okay, just a couple minutes, Ri—I can’t be late for work.” Eddie follows along dutifully, narrowly missing the flurry of tiny people that run past him.

Riley arrives at the desk in a hurry, taking her seat and examining her area. “Look daddy,” She points out, “the desk has my name.”

“Yep, baby,” Eddie nods, smoothing out her tattered curls, still beating himself up over not taking the time to make them look better, “can you read it?”

Riley nods enthusiastically, “Riley Munson,” she sounds out, “Duh, I know my name.” 

Eddie chuckles at that and you can’t help but laugh. She was a character for sure, but most of the kids were, blossoming personalities and all.

You interrupt for a moment, leaning down to Riley’s level again, “And we even get to decorate these with cool stickers!”

Riley gasps in joy, staring up at Eddie with wide, glistening eyes.

“She loves stickers,” Eddie tells you, “Uh—I should probably already know this, but what time is pickup?”

“Oh, you’re fine.” You assure him, noting his frazzled state. It was common for parents, specifically first timers. “Three is when we actually let them out, but the line can get pretty long so it’s always better to show up early if you can.”

Eddie nods slowly, glancing around the room. He’s never been one to care what people think of him or his appearance, but in this setting it feels magnified. “Sorry, I feel a little underdressed.”

You quickly shake your head, watching as a young girl approaches Riley. You nod toward the door, silently asking Eddie to follow. He bids her a quick goodbye and a kiss in the crown of her head which she could care less about, already chattering to her newfound friend. 

“Don’t feel like an outcast,” You tell him, “it’s definitely not worth beating yourself up over.”

Eddie had been there his entire life, he wasn’t sure he could ever escape that. 

Oddly, it comforts Eddie for the moment. “Shit—wait shoot,” Eddie fumbles over his words, voice hushed as he realizes his mistake, “I’m Eddie by the way, I probably should’ve started with that.”

You laugh in amusement, nose scrunching up slightly. You’re far enough from earshot that their impressionable ears can’t hear, but it’s still charming that he tries to save himself. 

“Well Eddie,” You say with a lilt to your voice, “if we run into any issues—which I’m sure we won’t—we’ll give you a call.”

Eddie nods, “Okay uh,” He points toward Riley sparingly, “she can be a little—headstrong, so if she gives you problems—“

“I can handle her,” You assure him, leaning forward with a quiet whisper, “it’s kind of my job.”

Eddie smiles at that, a nervous laugh rumbling through his chest. He needs to excuse himself before he embarrasses himself further. 

“Okay, three. I’ll be here.” He tells you, loose curls bouncing over his shoulders as he moves. 

“And I’ll see you then.” You nod, watching as he hurriedly leaves then, bolting out faster that you can process. Considering how daunting days like this could be for parents, he was still handling it surprisingly well. 

The day is just as hectic as you’d expect. A few meltdowns later and a messy lunch with over a hundred rambunctious kids and you’re all out of energy for the day but keep it up until the very last minute of the school day, letting each child pick a sticker to put on their own name tag on their desk—it’s an easy way to give the kids an outlet to express themselves and show of their personality, plus, the kids loved the stickers.

Pickup is gradual, the children leaving in troves until there’s only a few left, lingering around the hall as they wait for their rides. You find Riley perched on a bench outside of your classroom, fiddling with the laces on her shoes, frayed from wear and tear as she attempts to re-tie them. She huffs dramatically when she can’t figure it out, shoulder slumping as she frowns

You approach with a weary caution, taking a seat next to her on the bench. She doesn’t immediately look up at you, kicking the toes of her shoes together. “Stupid,” She grumbled, “stupid shoes.”

“Do you need help?” You ask sweetly.

“I don’t know how,” She expresses dramatically, “I try and the loop doesn’t work. My daddy ties my shoes for me.”

“Well, Riley—would you like me to teach you?” You ask.

She nods enthusiastically, clumsily turning to place her feet in your lap, staring up at you expectantly. You laugh softly, making a show of taking the two strings in your hand, guiding her through the motions as she watches, cataloging every step. She helps you sing, bouncing with energy. 

“Okay, your turn.” You tell her, watching as she fiddles with laces, murmuring a ‘bunny ears, bunny ears’ under her breath as she focuses, tongue slipping out past her lips in concentration. It takes her a moment, struggling to get the lace under the loop, but eventually she gets it. You erupt in a soft cheer, shaking your fists up in celebration. Riley beams a toothy grin that lingers, her eyes squinting with how big she’s smiling. 

You take a peek at your watch, reading it to yourself. 3:15. It wasn’t unusual for late parents, as a few kids were also lingering about, but while they were antsy and anxious to leave, Riley sat quietly, attention turned up toward a spot on the ceiling as she waited. 

You wait a bit longer in silence, listening to Riley sing the lyrics to a faintly familiar rock song, much to mature for her ears—but that can only be the product of her father, which you couldn’t really fault him for. Kids were just as good at paying attention as they were being passive, it was all subjective and only when they wanted to. 

By 3:30 you’re a little more concerned, Riley being the last kid left and not a car or parent in sight.

She sighs exasperated, playing with the loose string on her jumper, “Daddy’s late isn’t he?”

“A little,” You nod, “Is this normal? Does it happen a lot?”

You weren’t trying to point fingers or scrutinize anyone, just simply prodding for more information. 

“My dad works on cars—s’why he looks dirty all the time.” She explains, her words mixing together. “Sometimes the men are mean and keep him at work late.”

“Oh dear,” You sigh slightly, “well, I guess we’ll have to do something to keep us busy.”

You didn’t leave until late into the evening anyways, closer to five—and it wasn’t the first time you’ve had to keep a kid past the normal pickup time, though it had been a while.

“Do you like to color?” You ask curiously.

Riley perks up suddenly, nodding. 

“Well, you’re in luck, Riley.” You tell her, hand held out for her to grab, leading her into the classroom and setting her at a separate table away from the desks. She waits patiently, feeling squeaking against the linoleum as she watches you move around, grabbing a box of crayons and a few spare drawing pages for her to color in. “Can you work on this for me?”

Riley nods again, furiously sifting through the colors and getting to work, scribbling a dark red crayon onto the paper.

You slip away for a moment, crossing the hall to the office and attempting to find someone—anyone that you can check in with, wondering where Eddie was. The secretary pops her head out of the lounge room suddenly, eyeing you curiously.

“Hey, the little one, Riley Munson—has anyone come to ask for her yet?” You ask, “I wanted to make sure she didn’t get lost in the bunch?”

“That’s Eddie Munson’s kid, right?” The older lady asks, a gruffness to her voice from years of smoking. “Huh.”

Huh. You make an annoyed face as she turns her back, walking toward her desk.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You ask.

“That kid has never had his life together,” She tells you, having known Eddie when he attended Hawkins, “I used to write tardy slips for him everyday—boy would come in smelling of weed almost every day, he’s always been trouble.”

“Weren’t we all trouble in high school?” You ask daringly.

“Not like him,” She tells you, “repeated his senior year three times and didn’t graduate until he was twenty.”

You roll your eyes subtly, the judgment oozing from her in waves. “Can you just call her emergency number and see if we can get someone to pick her up?”

The older woman responds with a noise, picking up the phone between her brittle fingers, startled rightly when someone bursts through the front entrance, keys jingling in their hand.

“God, I’m so sorry—“ Eddie looks even more stressed out than earlier, his face slightly dirty and a greased up handkerchief shoved in his backpacker, “where is she?”

The old lady watched with a pointed look as you nod toward your classroom, avoiding her gaze as you turn your back. 

“I’ve got her busy in my room,” You tell him, leading him toward your door silently, “she’s been very good considering.”

“I promise it’s not always like this,” Eddie says defensively, “today has just—it’s been a day.”

You stop him just outside the entrance, hand placed gently against his chest to still him.

“It’s okay,” You tell him honestly, “but this can’t be a regular thing. You either need to have someone available to pick her up after school on time or work something out with administration. I don’t mind staying after—but I can get in trouble if she stays too late.”

“Look, I mean it—this is the only time.” He stressed, eyes pleading in hopes that you won’t judge him too harshly.

You couldn’t. You would never. You weren’t in a place to judge anyone. 

You nod in understanding, extending your trust. “She’s coloring—go ahead.” You tell him, letting him walk in before you.

Riley can hear the footsteps before she spots you both, her chair skidding against the floor as she bolts toward the door, barreling toward Eddie. He picks her up with ease, scooping her up onto his hip, coloring pages forgotten. 

“I missed you.” He tells her, fingers squeezing gently at her side. She laughs, hugging him tight despite his dirtiness. 

“I miss’d you.” She says softly, arms squeezing around him even further. Eddie smiles, burying his face into her bundle of curls placed lopsided on top of her head.

Eddie pulls away after a moment, looking over at you. “I’m so sorry.” He apologizes again and you’re starting to sense a theme. 

“No need,” You insist, “but come Monday—“

Eddie nods, “I’ll be on time.”

And for whatever odd reason, you believed him. 

You smile at him then at Riley, features softening as she peaks at you from over Eddie’s shoulder.

“I’ll see you on Monday Riley, okay?” You speak to her.

“Yes!” She cheers, leaning over to whisper into Eddie’s ear.

Eddie leans in, laughing at whatever she was saying to him. Eddie pulls away, nodding at Riley in agreement.

“She said you can call her Ri,” Eddie explains, “which is a very prestigious honor, right?” Eddie turns to Riley, her face scrunching up in confusion.

“Prisigious?” Riley repeats in an innocent tone, “Dad, that’s not a word.”

“Oh, it is Ms. Ri,” You respond matter of factually, “prestigious,” You sound out, “it means super important and special, like you.”

Eddie watches the interaction in a happy silence, the exchange more endearing than anything he’s ever witnessed. It had always taken a while for Riley to warm up to new people, which is why he had been so nervous for her first day, but it all seemed ridiculous now after watching the two of you interact. 

“Thank you.” Eddie says suddenly, eyes connecting with yours.

It startles you for a moment, face pulling up in a confused smile.

“For?”

“Not judging, I guess.” He shrugs, “And keeping her company.”

You chuckle softly, “It’s kind of my job, Mr. Munson.”

Eddie grimaces at that, “God—am I that old? We can stick to first names, right?”

And truly, you’re only teasing. You nod in response, waving a warm goodbye to Riley as Eddie grabbed her backpack, shrugging it over his own shoulder.

“Byeeee,” She sings, hand waving over Eddie's shoulder as he triggers her along, more than eager to get her out of your hair, Eddie does mumble to Riley for a moment before she screams out again, “—my daddy said bye too!”

Riley was a character, that was for sure. But seeing her with Eddie, it all made sense.

Eddie keeps his promise, the next month of school going off without a hitch. Riley is there on time, every morning, hell or high water, and she’s just as chipper as you would expect from someone her age. Eddie doesn’t come inside often, only on the few days that Riley has a hard time rolling out of bed, so you don’t see him that often—not that you wanted to.

You totally didn’t want to. Either way, it didn’t matter. 

October is one of the few months that you can enjoy real fun with the kids—holidays always have their positives, as well as their negatives. But, the kids loved crafts and so did you. 

A week out from Halloween and you had purchased a full box of small pumpkins for your kids, one for each, and all the crafts you could imagine—paints, markers, stuff for making silly faces or glitter bombing their pumpkin. You’d made it clear about messes and the kids had followed for the most part.

But, you could only expect so much from a group of six year olds. And in hindsight, you never expected your degree to end up with you constantly hovering around a group of kids hoping they wouldn’t eat the glue sticks or shove crayons up their noses—unfortunately, that was your life. 

You wouldn’t change it for a thing.

And it’s almost peaceful until the time for cleanup comes and there’s a rushed call of your name, the tiny panicked tone sending you into fight or flight, turning on your heels to spot where the voice is coming from.

When you do, it lands on her. Little Riley, covered in paint—her face, hair, clothes, and a boy at her side caught red-handed, quickly dropping the paint when your eyes flick to him. You steady yourself with a deep breath before going back into teacher mode, instructing the rest of the class to sit on the rug at the front of the class room with their legs crossed, grabbing both of the kids gently by the hand and walking them out of the classroom, luckily coming face to face with another teacher who happened to be on break from her class while they attended their specials class, practically begging her to watch the rest of the class for the time being.

“Fifteen minutes, that’s all I need.” You tell her and she agrees.

When you’re finally alone with the two you kneel, taking the younger boy’s hands in yours, calming their insistent shaking.

“You’re not in trouble,” You tell him, Evan, the younger boy responsible, “but do you realize what you did wrong?”

He nods silently.

“I get big emotions too, trust me.” You tell him softly, “But, we can’t take them out on others. Do you want to tell me what happened?”

“He made fun of my clothes!” Riley interrupts with a screech, eyes welling with tears. “He said I dress like a boy.”

“Is that true?” You ask him, receiving a shameful nod.

“It’s not fun being picked on,” You explain to him, “how would you feel if Riley said you dressed silly?”

“Sad.” He answers softly. 

“Exactly.” You smile slightly, “Can you apologize to Riley?”

He turns to her, unable to meet her tiny, heated gaze.

“I’m sorry, Riley.” 

You stare at Riley pointedly, her arms crossed over her chest in defiance. There’s a silent pleading that she seems to understand, chewing on her bottom lip as she relents.

“It’s okay.” She tells him, “I forgive you.”

You nod, satisfied. “Okay, Evan—head back to class, please.”

The boy walks slowly, head hung in shame and embarrassment at having been caught and doing what he did—this behavior was all too familiar and not new in any way.

“He’s stupid.” Riley says with a bite, face smeared with paint.

“Riley,” You warn, “we don’t call people that.”

“Did you say anything to him after he made fun of your clothes?” You ask, hoping to get to the bottom of their little squabble.

“I called him stupid.” She says—it’s almost impossible not to laugh, but you mask it well, gaze flitting up toward the ceiling as Riley flicks the paint off of her hand and wipes them against her ruined overalls, the shirt underneath barely unscathed. 

“Can I let you in on a secret, Ri?” You ask, kneeling down in front of her. She nods slowly, giving you her hands. You did it often with the kids, finding that it calmed them the quickest. “All boys are stupid.”

Riley smiles slightly, giggling quietly. 

You sigh, taking a glance at her and then her outfit.

“Your dad doesn’t pack extra clothes for you, does he?”

Riley shakes her head, pigtails swinging wildly.

You huff, “Okay—let’s brainstorm.”

“Brain…storm?” Riley asks curiously.

You nod, “Yeah, like…come up with ideas. It’s just a silly word for it.”

Riley ponders for a moment, lips pursing together in thought. 

She sighs after a moment, “My brain is empty, no storms.”

You laugh audibly, a short giggle as you stare fondly at the girl.

“Actually,” The thought hits you suddenly, “I think we have some spare clothes in the office, we could take our chances and see if there’s anything in your size. If not, I’ll have to call your dad.”

“No, no—“ She says hurriedly, “don’t call my dad, please.”

You since her concern, eyebrow raising in question.

“I broke his rule.” She frowns, “I gave Evan a mean look and I called him stupid.”

You smile tensely, trying to weigh how to explain things to her, before settling on, “I think he’ll understand, Ri. But, I’ll try my hardest so we don’t have to.” 

The best you can do is a god awful pair of pink corduroy pants in her size, which she very loudly states she dislikes.

“Ew!” She says in disgust. “Can I stay in these, please?”

“Riley,” You stress, “You have to change.”

She slumps in defeat, not putting up much of a fight. She holds her hands out begrudgingly, making small grabbing fists until you hand them over, quickly skittering off to the bathroom.

When she returns, she looks even more annoyed, but cleaner.

“My face,” She frowns, “it’s sticky.”

“Yep, kiddo.” You nod, taking her ruined overalls and stuffing them into a plastic bag before tying them off, leaving them for Eddie to pick up later. “I’ve got wipes in my classroom and we’ll get you cleaned up.”

It’s a struggle, but you do manage to get most of the paint cleaned up while the other teacher manages your class, holding their attention with a book she read out loud, letting you deal with Riley in silence. Her hair is a challenge, still sticky and hardened with paint—you manage what you can, undoing her pigtails and wiping out as much paint as possible before braiding the hair back nicely and keeping it out of her face. She feels the bumps in her hair curiously, making a face.

“Braids.” You explain. “Have you ever had them?”

“Daddy can’t do them.” She tells you. “I like piggies. But I also like the braids.”

“Well, maybe you can bribe him into learning if you like them a lot.” You tell her, helping her down from the desk she was perched on. “But, I can always do it for you if you really want them on a certain day.”

You urged her back toward the group of kids, watching as she took a seat toward the rear, hands twisted in her lap as she listened quietly—she seemed less comfortable, more outcast than normal, and while Riley had a big personality—it wasn’t showing now. 

When Eddie arrives later that day for pickup, it’s a flurry of emotions. Riley immediately bursts into tears when she sees him, still one of the last kids to be picked up—but he’s not too late.

He stares up at you with a myriad of questions and you hand the dirty clothes over wordlessly. He glances at Riley, nudging her face away from his shoulder. “Hey—hey, what’s wrong?”

Riley looks up at you desperately, frown pulling at her face.

“Ri, why don’t you go play over at the table,” You suggest, “the toys are in the bin underneath.”

She nods, letting go of Eddie in an instant.

When she’s finally busied herself, you pull Eddie aside, leaning against the edge of your desk. “There was a little incident today. A boy teased Riley for her clothes and she called him stupid,” You sigh, crossing your arms over your chest, “we were decorating pumpkins and there was some paint involved—the other kid spilled paint all over her.”

“And no one called me?” Eddie asks, frustration evident in his face.

You held your hands up defensively, “Riley was very insistent that I don’t—luckily we had some spare clothes in the office.”

“Why—why wouldn’t she want you to call me?”

“She said she broke your rules,” You explain to him, “whatever that means. Regardless, I tried to clean her up as best I could. She still has a bit of paint in her hair.”

Eddie glances over at his daughter, still frowning as she plays. He knew the sadness was temporary, but damn if he wasn’t playing into it. He notices the braids a half second later, glancing back at you briefly and then toward her again.

“Sorry if I overstepped—her hair was a bit of a mess.” You admit to him, “I won’t do it again if you don’t want me to.”

Eddie laughs slightly, “No—it’s fine. I’m at a complete loss when it comes to that stuff.” He scratches at his cheek, grime covered rings leaving a dark mark against his skin in the process. You smile to yourself, pulling a wipe from the packet and handing it over.

“It’s—you got something on your face.” You tell him, pointing to the spot.

“Here?”

“No,” You point again, Eddie moves a smidgen over but still isn’t in the right spot, “—just, here, give me it—“ Eddie hands over the wipe and waits for you to clean away the mark, leaning toward you slightly.

“She’s had a rough day,” You tell him quietly, wiping at his face until it’s gone, tossing the wipe into the trash, “and maybe paint with a bunch of six year olds wasn’t too smart, but I think you’ll really like what she made.”

Eddie eyes you suspiciously, watching as you call out to Riley.

“Hey Ri, did you want to show your dad what you made today?” 

She perks up slightly, skittering over to her desk in hurry as she fetches the small pumpkin before handing it over to Eddie.

“It’s you, daddy!” She beams, pointing out the dark marks that were supposed to be hair, comically wide eyes and a half smile on the front. He turned it, seeing the small group of bats she drew on the back. He smiles, rubbing tenderly at her chin.

“I wasn’t sure what the bats were all about but she insisted.” 

“Oh,” Eddie notes, pulling his sleeve up to show off his inked up arm—and really, it didn’t shock you much, “that’s why.”

“Crap, Ri—I almost forgot,” You tell her, rounding your desk to open the drawer housing the pages of stickers, “I need you to pick out a sticker for your desk.”

She gasps excitedly, yanking away from Eddie without hesitation and running to your side, fingers dragging along the page until she finds the one she wants, letting you pluck it from the paper and hand it over. 

Eddie knows he’ll still have to sit and talk with Riley when they get home to make sure she’s working through her emotions correctly instead of bottling them up—something he was much too guilty of as a teenager. He hates seeing her repeat the same habits he did, doing as much as he could to avoid it.

Eddie’s quick to thank you again and again, a strange habit he’s formed around you. Oddly enough, you couldn’t find it in yourself to stop him.

Grocery shopping is always an adventure with Riley. Eddie never had a list of things he needed, more or less just picking out whatever sounded good, but that also meant an unhealthy amount of snacks being piled in the cart. Eddie didn’t have it in him to tell Riley to put things back, knowing she’d pull out the big guns. Some would call him weak—he was, he could admit that. 

“Can you reach it?” Eddie asked, Riley hoisted up onto his shoulders to reach the cereal box on the top shelf. It definitely wasn’t the safest option, but it was working.

“Higher!” She instructed, grunting out as she stretched, “Ha—gotcha!”

Eddie laughs, “Are we good?”

No response, a small amount of wiggling on his shoulders. 

“Ri?”

She gasps suddenly, screaming out your name from over the aisle—Eddie rightfully panics, hoisting her off of his shoulders carefully.

“Riley, you can’t scream in public like that.” Eddie tells her, pulling the cereal box from her grip.

“But…Ms.—“ Riley defends feebly, her fingers pouting to the aisle over.

You did spot her, in fact, giving her a quick wave and a cheeky smile as you pushed your cart down the aisle, making your way through the store. When you round the corner, Eddie and her are still standing there arguing, animated enough that you stand back, not wanting to interrupt.

Eddie stares up at you after a moment, eyes already speaking an apology.

“Stop,” You tell him suddenly, a grin breaching your face, “no apologies, it’s not necessary.”

“I was going to apologize for my child’s lack of filter,” Eddie says, pulling gently at Riley’s ear, “but I guess she was just really excited to see you.”

“As I am you, miss.” You tell her softly, offering out your fist to her. She bumps it gently, giggling up at Eddie.

The silence that settles is bordering on awkward, both of you deciding to speak at the same time.

“So, you shop here—“

“You’re in the way of—“

Eddie chuckles awkwardly, “You first.”

“You’re in the way of the cereal I was going to grab.” You inform, waving toward that side of the aisle.

“Oh, shit.” He curses, quickly shoving his cart out of the way.

“Dad,” Riley sings, a telltale sign that Eddie had done something wrong, “that’s another dollar.”

“How about I buy you a chocolate bar and we call it even?” Eddie barters, staring the small child down.

She contemplates for a moment, “Deal.”

“She’s clever.” You note with a smirk, reaching around Eddie to grab the box of cereal before shoving it in your cart. 

“And a handful.” Eddie adds fondly.

“Dad,” Riley pokes at Eddie’s side, “Dad, daddyyyy.”

“What, Ri?” He asks, turning to her.

“Can we invite her over for dinner?” She asks innocently, a grin appearing on her face, hopeful optimism some would call it. 

“Riley—she’s your teacher, I can’t do that.”

“It’s not against any rules.” You shrug, mouth speaking before your brain can process. “I wouldn’t want to intrude though, that would be very nice of me.”

Eddie quickly answers, “Uh, you wouldn’t actually.”

“He’s making my favorite!” Riley interjects.

“And what’s that?” You ask with a similar enthusiasm.

“Spaghetti!” It was a mouthful for her to say, but you understand her well enough.

You shrug, glancing up at Eddie. “I don’t know, she’s selling me a pretty good dinner.”

“Would you?” Eddie asks, “Want to?”

“I don’t see why not?” You ask redundantly, “I would’ve ended up grabbing a pizza on my way home anyways—so why not some real Italian food?”

Eddie looks at you with an uneasy expression, “I don’t know about real—or Italian, but I promise it’ll be edible.”

“I’m sold.” You admit, slipping out a pen and paper from your purse, “Give me your address and the time I should be there.”

Riley is a tiny ball of excitement, yanking at the unoccupied hand Eddie left by his side as scribbled down on the notepad before handing it back to you. You note the information before slipping it back into your purse. 

“Well Ri, I guess I’ll see you in a couple hours.” You tell her with a smile before looking up at Eddie, “Should I bring anything?”

“No, no—it’ll be our treat, right?” He asks, looking down at his daughter.

“Yep!” She pops the word, bouncing on her heels.

Even being around her energy was enough to exhaust you, so you could only imagine how Eddie was feeling. You offer a friendly wave to both of them before disappearing down the aisle, wondering what the hell just happened. 

The moment you arrive at the trailer park, your heart feels like it’s going to pound out of your chest—not out of fear or nervousness, but mostly out of the unknown. It was the first time you’ve interacted with parents outside of work, not that you made it a habit, but you have befriended a few. It was a natural thing that happened and nothing that ever felt forced—with Eddie, it was strangely comfortable despite how little you knew about him, or Riley, even. 

You pull to a stop outside the pale blue trailer, the front yard a mixture of new flowers and some wilted away, a few small statues of animals that you could guess were a product of Riley. You can hear her on the other side of the door before you even knock, belting out a song at the top of her lungs.

You knock loudly in hopes that Eddie can hear, thankfully he does, opening the door in record time—strangely fast when you take time to think about. You smile at the thought of him having been waiting at the door, then feeling ridiculous for even having that thought.

“You’re just in time,” Eddie says, slightly out of breath, “Riley’s putting on a show in the living room.”

You take in his appearance fully now, unashamed—he’s cleaner obviously, his hair looks more thought out and poised, small ringlet curls falling around his face and his bangs looking straighter, like he might’ve cut them. He’s got a pair of jeans on and a clean shirt, stain free—socks covering his feet, a pile of shoes stuffed by the door. 

You step inside, toeing off your shoes wordlessly and placing your bag and coat on the coat hanger behind the door. Eddie shuts the door for you, nodding in the direction of the noise coming from several feet away. 

“Is that Nirvana?” You ask curiously, turning your head back toward Eddie.

“She’s a character, I know,” Eddie feels the need to state, but that was already blatantly obvious, “it’s one of her favorite bands.”

You shrug, feeling indifferent.

“You don’t like them?” Eddie asks, noticing your stagnant expression. 

“I don’t listen to much music.” You admit, “I don’t really have the time unless it is something from Barney or one of those silly education videos we show the kids.”

Eddie looks pained to hear it, eyebrows shooting up under his bang. Riley notices you then, hopping off of the couch and running toward you, arms wrapping around your legs in a tight hug. 

“You made it,” She says, “daddy said dinner was almost done.”

“It is,” He confirms, setting the plates down on the kitchen table as he wanders around finishing things up, “you can sit, if you want.”

You opt against it, waiting until Riley busies herself with something else, joining Eddie near the kitchen stove, tapping your fingers against the kitchen counter gently.

“Smells good,” You tell him honestly, the scent invading your nose, “I can’t even remember the last time I cooked for myself.”

“She keeps me in check,” He nods behind him, “otherwise I’d be ordering carry out everyday like I was still in high school.”

You smile at that, silently agreeing—it was your current reality, but you also didn’t have the same responsibilities Eddie did.

You look around curiously, eyes falling on the jar placed on the shelf a few feet away, labeled ‘swear jar’ and by the looks of it, it was definitely time for a new one. Eddie looks up briefly to catch you staring at things, chuckling loudly behind you.

“I already know,” Eddie tells you, “It’s a terrible habit and I’ve tried to break it, we’re still working on it, clearly.”

You smile fondly, watching as Riley scattered her toys on the floor. “I try to keep it constrained around the kids, but it slips out every now and then. You just have to get creative, come up with other words—otherwise she’ll be saying fuck in public and I can’t imagine anything more embarrassing.”

Eddie gawks at your vulgar use of the words, face splitting into a subtle smile. “Too late.” He tells you. 

You couldn’t even act surprised. Eddie nods knowingly at your expression, turning off the stove.

“Could you do me a huge favor?” Eddie asks.

“Anything.” You nod.

“Let Riley know the food is done and get her to the table—she can be a little hard headed about it.”

If there was anyone to combat that, it was you. 

It only takes one try, much to Eddie’s obvious frustration as he glares Riley down—the young girl knew exactly what she was doing and he couldn’t fault her for it, she was clever. 

“Do you want a beer?” Eddie calls from the kitchen.

You glance over at Riley who’s oblivious to the conversation, dragging her spoon along the empty plate. And as much as you would normally say yes, you can’t bring yourself to do it now.

“Uh no, I’ll be okay.” You tell him, waving your hand dismissively. Eddie shrugs nonchalantly, grabbing himself one.

Dinner is pleasant—and delicious. Riley takes up most of the talking points—her favorite animals, her favorite shows, and all the cool things she’s learned at school, not that you didn’t already know about them. But, she’s also terrible at stopping intrusive thoughts, much like any young kid is, and her questions catch you off guard every now and then.

“Are you married?” Coming from her, it sounds ridiculous—but she’s pointing at the ring on your hand with a curious look, her fingertip dragging over the gem.

“Riley.” Eddie reprimands, “Stop being nosey.”

Eddie was just as curious, but that didn’t matter. 

“No, sweetheart—I’m not.” You tell her honestly with a short laugh and a head shake. “It was a present I got when I finished school.”

Riley’s lips puff out, thinking. “School like I do?—but you’re old.”

Eddie hangs his head slightly, taking a big chug of his beer.

It’s nothing you haven’t heard before, “I am.” You nod in agreement, “But no, it’s a little different. It’s school for grownups—it’s how I became a teacher.”

“Oh.” Is all she says, satisfied with your answer. 

There’s a beat of silence before she turns to her father.

“Can I have a ring when I finish school?” She asks innocently.

“Sure.” Eddie agrees, downing the last bite on his plate.

Late dinners had become a habit lately with Eddie’s job not being as convenient as it used to—long hours, angry customers, it was a monotonous cycle but that money was good. Eddie really couldn’t complain, he’d just wished there was more time for Riley.

“Hey, squirt—go brush your teeth and get ready for bed.” Eddie tells her. She slumps a little, frowning over at you.

Eddie gives her a look—you’ve seen it several times before from many parents. Riley sighs in defeat and slips from her chair, stomping away quietly. You glance down at the dishes, then the sink before looking at Eddie. He’s got that distracted stare on his face as he turns, finishing off his beer as he watches Riley disappear into the bathroom.

“Why don’t you help her?” You suggest, “I can clean this up and you can get her into bed?”

Eddie looks uncertain, “No—I can—“

“It’s the least I can do,” You insist, “seriously—it’s not a problem.”

Eddie knows there’s no reason to argue, placing the empty bottle down on the table and meeting up with Riley down the hall, a squeal echoing through the trailer as he bursts through the doorway. 

Eddie’s gotten Riley into a routine pretty easily, so it doesn’t take much for her to fall asleep besides a quick bedtime story while she snuggles up to Eddie before she’s out like a light and he’s sneaking out of her room, pulling the door closed slowly until it finally clicks shut. 

You’d already managed to get most of the dishes washed by then—plates, silverware, cups, save for the giant pot that Eddie had cooked in. 

“I can handle the rest if you need to leave.” Eddie says quietly, voice still low as he walks into the kitchen, flipping off the other lights as he goes. “Also—I’m sorry if you felt obligated to do this. Riley really likes you and sometimes she grows these…attachments.”

You take the clean towel he hands you, drying your hands as you turn to him, hip pressed against the counter as you lean there. “She’s not the first, trust me. I see those kids almost everyday and for the younger ones it’s a little…tricky, I guess.”

“Tricky?” Eddie asks curiously, sensing your apprehension around the word. He tossed the pot into the sink and scrubbed quietly, listening to you talk.

“Some of the kids don’t have the best home life, I try to keep things positive and cheerful—as much as I can, at least. Kids love being surrounded by love and I try to emulate that. The ones with divorced parents or just one even—you can tell they just need someone to understand them.”

Eddie tries not to think about it often—his past, his present, how Riley has to survive this world without her mom. He knows she’ll be safe and protected for the rest of her life, Eddie would make sure of it. But, for a kid to grow up without a mother—he knows the pain personally and it bothers Riley, even at this age and no matter how good she is at masking it.

Eddie huffs out a faint laugh, drying out the dish before placing it on the dish rack next to the sink, pressing his hands against the edge of the counter. 

“I don’t ever mean to press or pry,” You assure Eddie, “but if Riley ever needs anything, tell me. I extend that to all of the parents but—she’s—“

“Different.” Eddie answers for you, a smile pulling at his face. 

“She’s incredibly smart, you know.” You inform him, backing up slowly as he follows, reaching for your things to leave. “She picks up on words like nothing, she can do math in her head really well—you’ve got a tiny little genius on your hands.”

“Yeah—I’ve been helping her with her homework, she keeps telling me we need to brainstorm,” Eddie tells you, throwing his finger up to do air quotes, “when we get stuck on a problem.”

Your nose scrunches up in amusement as you find your coat over your arms, “That was definitely my fault.” You admit.

Eddie follows you out like a gentleman despite the frigid wind, hands shoved deep into his back pockets. He opens your door, the metal groaning in protest—it was an old car, reliable, trustworthy, and as your key turns in the ignition, nothing happens.

Scratch reliable—it was a piece of shit, through and through. 

You rest your forehead against the steering wheel, mumbling a low, “Fuck me.”

Eddie takes a step forward, leaning between your open door to poke his head inside, “I can take a look if you want.”

You rub your hands over your face in frustration, looking up at him sheepishly. “I really don’t want to bother you with it.”

“Come on,” Eddie smiles, “I work on cars for a living, I think I’ll survive.”

You wave your hand toward the hood of your car in response. Eddie taps the hood of your car absentmindedly, rounding the front as you pull on the pedal near the floor to pop the hood open. He leans down, out of view, and you can’t help but follow after him, leaning into his space slightly as he examines your engine. 

You wouldn’t even know where to start or what cord goes to what point or however it all worked—fortunately for Eddie, it only takes him a few minutes to figure it out.

Eddie makes a face of concentration as he reaches further inside, pulling at a small part until he can hold it in his hand, inspecting it further. 

“Shit, yeah—“ Eddie says, confirming his suspicions, “you need new spark plugs.”

Your eyebrows knit together in obvious confusion. 

“I can clean them up a bit and we can hope it starts—but you’ll need to buy new ones soon, otherwise this is gonna keep happening.” Eddie tells you, using the end of his shirt to wipe away the built up residue, your mouth dropping in shock.

“Eddie, what the—“ You quickly yank the spark plug from his hand, “that shirt is clean, what are you doing?”

Eddie’s a little startled, given your immediate reaction. He stumbles out an awkward laugh and gently pries the spark plug from your grip. “They’re just clothes.”

And you do feel bad, but it’s become your second nature to stop messes, keep kids clean, and slip into the normal habit of being a teacher and in turn, a bit motherly.

Eddie’s faze doesn’t linger from yours, watching as you deflated slightly. “Sorry—I can’t help it.”

“I get it,” Eddie grins slightly, “but don’t worry, it’s an old shirt anyways.”

Your cheeks run hot, triggered by embarrassment and something you were too afraid to admit.

And if Eddie sees it, he doesn’t say anything. 

He fiddles with the car a moment longer before finally closing the hood, “Try it now.”

It does start—with some moaning and groaning, but it works and that’s satisfying enough for you.

“Thank you.” You tell him, looking up at him from where’s squeezed between the car and the door again, dark grease stains staring you in the face—along with a lot more, but you quickly turn away. 

“No problem,” He shrugs, “—hey, why don’t you bring it to the shop when you have time?”

“Are you sure?” You ask.

It’s a recurring theme with you two, constantly afraid of offending the other or doing something out of line.

“Yeah,” He nods, “It’ll save the hassle of you being overpriced or selling something you don’t need. I can have it done in an hour.”

“Small problem,” You tell him begrudgingly, “I’m pretty sure I work the same hours you do—so that makes it nearly impossible.”

“Are you busy next Saturday?” He asks boldly, no easing into it.

“No.” You answer hesitantly, narrowing your eyes at him.

“Stop by here and I’ll drive you up to the shop,” He tells you, “I’ve got a set of keys so it won’t be a problem.”

“Do you do this for all your customers?” You ask with a soft laugh.

“Only the special ones,” Eddie replies with a wide grin, bordering on flirtatious, “—Riley would have my head if she found out you needed help and I didn’t at least try.”

“Well, we can’t have that, can we?” You respond teasingly.

Eddie shrugs in response, the smugness written all over his face. “I’ll see you on Monday.” He says, slipping the door closed gently.

You’ve never sat through a longer Sunday waiting for a dreadful Monday to come.

Eddie has a rough start to his morning, which isn’t new, but he tries to make the best of it, even if Riley is having none of it. She sobs most of the time spent getting dressed, not even allowing Eddie to touch her hair, leaving it a tangled mess atop her head. He’s learned to choose his battles, managing to get her ready and to school with enough time to spare that can allow him to drive to work without the constant worry of being late. 

When you spot him you can’t help but smile, less forced and a lot more genuine than most of the ones you gave. 

“Hard morning.” He mouths over Riley’s shoulder, her face tucked into his neck and arms wound tightly around it.

You frown in response, patting Riley’s back as he moves closer, “It’s okay, I hate Mondays too.” You tell her comfortingly. 

“Hey, kid—you’ve gotta let go.” He tells her softly, nudging her away from his neck, “I have to get to work and you have school.”

She doesn’t move—Eddie’s face falls, a heavy sigh leaving his mouth. You hold up a finger to him, asking him to wait. He nods, slightly confused as you walk around him to his back, catching Riley’s gaze. She quickly hides her face, making a small noise.

“Tell you what,” You start, crossing your arms over your chest, “if you let go of your daddy now, I can probably have your hair braided before class starts.”

She peaks her head up slowly and you know you’ve got her attention.

“Daddy, I want down.” She tells him and Eddie scoffs lightly.

“How?” Eddie asks you with a look of disbelief, placing Riley on the floor. “That’s ridiculous. I’ve been struggling with her all morning.”

“She probably senses your frustration.” You tell him honestly.

Eddie never took his own emotions into account, looking down at Riley, her hand still latched into his. 

“Besides, kids are complex but really simple,” You kneel down to Riley’s level, grabbing a single stray curl, “they all want, you just have to figure out what it is.”

“I tried touching her hair,” Eddie defends, “she wasn’t having it.”

“Because daddy makes my hair look ugly.” Riley complains softly, staring up at you with earnest eyes. You laugh to yourself, patting her hand and letting her curl her fingers around your palm. 

You look up at Eddie with a sad smile, sending his rapidly growing frustration, nodding at him slightly. “Go—it’s okay.”

He scratches at his forehead, feeling horrible for wanting nothing more than to leave immediately. He prides himself on being able to handle himself well under stress, anger—every god awful emotion imaginable, but he needed a break, even if that meant leaving without a proper goodbye. 

Besides, you did a perfect job at distracting Riley, playing with the ends of her hair as you asked, “One braid or two?”

“Two.” She smiles, bouncing on her heels. “Please?”

“You got it, babe.” You tell her.

You’ve experienced connections with kids before, some stronger than others, but nothing like with Riley. It was hard to comprehend, or fully imagine was capable, but you’re happy to be there for any kid, however they needed you. 

The week remains meltdown free after that and Saturday rolls around quicker than you expect. When you arrive at Eddie’s trailer Riley is nowhere to be seen.

“She’s with my uncle.” Eddie explains. “He’s more like her grandpa—but yeah, he’s keeping her for the night.”

“Oh, okay.” You nod.

“I needed a break.” He admits without prompting, feeling the need to get it off his chest. 

“Look, you don’t have to explain yourself to me.” You tell him politely, “I’m not in any place to judge you.”

“I know—I just, nevermind—“ He laughs awkwardly, holding his hand out, “Mind if I drive?”

“Please?" You beg, slapping the keys into his open palm.

The drive is quiet and Eddie can’t be bothered to fill it, relishing in the silence and letting it settle. His hand grips the worn out steering wheel, rings cracking against the leather. He remembers the feeling faintly, the pull in his stomach from anxiety, the fluttering butterfly feeling of the unknown. It only happened once, with Riley’s mom.

It was their first date, a girl Eddie had met by chance at one of his shows at the Hideout—he never expected her to turn his life upside down, but she did.

It feels cheap, thinking this way—that the possibility of you and him having the same experience as he did several years ago could even be possible. He barely knew you, yet he could see it. He saw it then and he saw it now. Eddie’s never believed in soulmates or one true love’s—he still doesn't. But, he’s always believed in taking chances, even if things seemed slim to none. He pushes the thought aside for now, offering a tight smile to your warm one, pulling into the entrance to the shop.

He leaves for a brief moment, unlocking the side door to raise the garage and leave enough room to fit your car inside.

You hate how it feels like you’re back in high school again, sneaking into somewhere you shouldn’t, even though you knew this wasn’t illegal and Eddie worked there. It made you feel giddy—that same naive exuberance spreading throughout your body. 

When you’re finally inside and Eddie can start his work, it’s a waiting game. You wander around aimlessly, finally interrupted by Eddie’s voice, “We have a lobby if you want to sit down.” He offers, using the wrench to point in that direction. 

You shake your head, gradually walking to his side.

“Are you sure it’s safe to wear your rings while you’re doing this?” You ask, pointing at his hand.

“Yes,” He says with a laugh, “I’ve done it for a little over seven years and I’ve never been hurt before.”

Eddie catches your gaze, eyebrows pulling together.

“Would it make you feel better if I took them off?” Eddie asks in a slight teasing tone, a playful way of making fun of you. 

“No, no—I believe you—“ You tell him, but Eddie’s already removing them, placing them on the tray behind him. 

“Better to be safe than sorry, right?” He asks with a smirk, flipping the wrench between his fingers.

Showoff, your brain screams. “Yep.” You answer meekly. 

He leans over the hood, shirt riding up his back in the process, revealing an even larger ink than the one on his arm, you tilt your head and can’t help but stare, wondering what was underneath.

“Can you hand me a rag?” Eddie asks, his hand shooting behind him blindly—you don’t hear him immediately so he turns, catching where your gaze had been.

He smiles cautiously, glancing down at his chest.

“Were you—“ He points toward his back, aiming for his ass.

“No—no god, I was—I saw the tattoo on your back.” You stutter out, “I was just wondering what it was.”

“Oh,” Eddie says, lifting his shirt up with no warning, toned muscle and pale skin on display, a large intricate design of tree spreading from the side of his chest and over his right pectoral around to his back, covering a large percentage of it, “it’s not that interesting—but it’s a special one.”

“Can I ask why?”

It’s an innocent question, only wanting to understand him better.

“Uh—it’s a little silly, so don’t laugh.” Eddie prefaces, shifting his shirt back down. “I got it a couple years after I met Riley’s mom—she never like restaurants or fancy dates so we always ended up grabbing fast food and sitting out at the park under a tree.”

“That’s beautiful,” You say truthfully, “it’s beautiful.”

“It was, uh—before she passed,” Eddie clears his throat, rubbing at the back of his ear awkwardly, “anyways, it comforts Ri when she asks about her, all she really has is pictures. She’s still young though, so I try to answer questions when she has them.”

“I’m sorry.” You say, but you can tell Eddie doesn’t need to hear it. Still, he accepts it. 

“It’s been a while, I’ve processed it.” Eddie tells you, “I guess it’s my dedication to her and that I’ll always be there for Riley.”

“You’re a good dad,” You tell him, a hand placed on his fidgeting ones as he twisted the spark plug in his grip, “—but I don’t think that needs to be said.”

“Yeah, but shoving my kid off on my uncle isn’t very fatherly of me.” He says, deprecating himself. “Some days are just…rough.”

Eddie turns to finish up the job with a somber look, eyebrows pulled together in concentration, managing to replace your spark plugs with brand new ones without a problem before testing to make sure your car starts with ease. It does, thankfully.

“I have those days too,” You assure him, arms crossed casually over your chest, “I know it’s not the same but I understand, to some degree.”

Eddie makes a soft ‘pfft’ sound, pulling up the front of his shirt to wipe away the sweat and grime from his face.

“A classroom full of kids all day and no way to escape,” Eddie’s voice is muffled behind the cloth, “I’d lose my fucking mind.”

You stare selfishly, eyeing the small patch of hair that disappears under his belt, the other littering did tattoos on his chest—it should feel wrong, but it doesn’t settle the immense need and want you felt in the moment. 

Again, Eddie catches you.

You’re better at recovering this time, ignoring his pointed gaze and subtly raised eyebrow.

“I’m usually about ninety percent of the way there every day.” You admit sheepishly. 

“I know you’re probably going to say no, but do you want a beer?” Eddie asks, “I’ve got a few stashed in the fridge in my office.”

“Yeah, actually.” You reply and Eddie pulls his bottom lip between his teeth in an effort to suppress his smile, “I will.”

“Follow me.” Eddie instructs, nodding his head in the opposite direction. You follow closely behind his quick footsteps, failing to hear the, “Oh—but watch out for the tires—“

Your feet slip out from under you and you fully prepare your face to hit the concrete, but it never does. 

“Holy shit,” You gasp, “this place is like a death trap.”

Eddie chuckles loudly at that, the arms that squeezed you tight to keep you from falling finally pulling you up. 

“That’s my fault,” Eddie admits, “I forgot to put them away yesterday.”

You sigh shakily, staring up at Eddie. “Once my heart stops pounding out my chest I’ll be okay.”

“Sorry.” Eddie offers a weary smile, shifting you in front of him rather than letting you trail behind. “It’s on your left, yep—and the light switch is on—nevermind, you got it.”

You laugh under your breath, scooting forward as Eddie slipped in behind you, fetching the two bottles from the fridge and slamming them on the edge of the desk, subsequently popping the caps off. You stare on with a dazed astonishment.

“No bottle opener.” He offers humorously, handing you one of the bottles. You take it from his hand, regardless of how dirty it may be from his hands that were still horribly messy.

You take a seat on the edge of the old desk, legs crossed at your ankles as you sipped at the beer. “So, how much do I owe you?”

“Oh, don’t worry about—“

“Eddie.”

“I’m not joking.”

You roll your eyes, pulling a small wad of cash out of your front pocket—it was around a hundred bucks, since you weren’t sure how expensive those parts actually were. 

“Take it.” You say, shoving the money at his chest.

“No.” He answers adamantly, pushing your hand away.

“At least let me pay for the parts?”

Eddie says your name once, full tone and leaving no room for argument. “I meant it, you’ve done enough to help me out, let me repay the favor.”

“It’s my job, Eddie.” You retort, a tinge of annoyance in your tone. 

“And this is mine.” He tells you. “So get over it—I’m not accepting your money.”

“You’re so infuriating.” You complain with heartfelt irritation, shoving the money back into your pocket. Eddie rolls his eyes just as enthusiastically, shifting from his spot on the wall until he’s lingering in the space between, still a comfortable few feet away.

Eddie chugs the beer like nothing while you continue to nurse yours, only taking a few measly sips. 

“The ring,” Eddie asks suddenly, “you said you got it as a gift for finishing school?”

And maybe he’s just trying to start friendly conversation—but you’re not sure if you should lie again, or tell him the truth. You set the beer down, twisting the jewelry over your finger. You never talked about how it came about or the history behind it. It had always been a secret for you and you only. Unlike Eddie, you didn’t process death as easily. 

“That was a lie,” You tell him honestly, extending the moment of sincerity you had with him earlier, “can I trust you with something and swear you’ll never repeat it back to anyone—even me?”

Eddie makes an odd face, trying to decipher your choice of wording. But, he nods.

“I got pregnant during my final year of college,” You start, the words hitting harder than you expect, but you swallow the painful lump in your throat, “she was due in December of that year, but I had a stillborn around six months.”

Eddie’s expression quickly shifts, eyes flicking down toward the floor.

“It’s her birthstone—“ You say, holding out your hand weakly as Eddie reaches for it, looking at the stone embedded in the silver, “she probably would’ve been around the same age as your daughter.”

Eddie says your name tenderly, fingers still lingering on the underside of your palm, “I’m so sorry.”

You laugh softly, clearly uncomfortable. “Anyways, everything happens for a reason, right? I guess it’s just a small way to remember her.”

Eddie hates how well he can relate to it. 

“Are you done?” He asks, reaching for your beer.

“Uh, yeah.” You respond slowly, forcing yourself to take a breath. “Thanks.”

The walk to your car is even slower, quiet, whatever happier mood that lingered earlier was nowhere in sight. You blame yourself for bringing the mood down, trying to find someone to lighten it. But, Eddie’s quicker than you, and throwing you a curveball from miles away.

“Can I take you out?” Eddie asks boldly, “On a proper date, I mean.”

“Um,” You linger on the word, standing uneasy as you lean against your car door, “—Eddie, we probably shouldn’t.”

“Why not?” Eddie asks, headstrong like his daughter unfortunately.

“Things can get…complicated.” You tell him, “I don’t want Riley getting the wrong idea.”

“Fine, not a date then.” Eddie levels.

“Then what?”

“We can hang out.”

Suddenly it’s like you’re eighteen again and you can’t help but want to go against every moral set before you. 

“Hang out,” The words feel weird on your tongue, “Eddie—you do know what that usually entails, right?”

“Hey, I’m a complete gentleman, okay?” Eddie defends, “That’s why I asked you on a date.”

Your lips pull together in a tight line, hating yourself for wanting to say yes so badly. 

Eddie pulls that salaciously sweet grin of his, hands placed on either side of the top of your car, breath quickening as he pulls a bit closer, still giving you enough room to feel comfortable. 

“Tell me no then,” Eddie challenges, “just say the word and I’ll drop it.”

Eddie can see it in your face, how badly you wanted to cave and say yes. 

“Eddie.” You warn, the name sounding too wicked on your tongue. “Please.”

You’re not sure what you’re begging for. 

“Fine,” Eddie tells you lowly, eyes connecting with yours when they try to pull away, “—but let me do this one thing and then if you want to change your mind, we can forget about this.”

“What thing?” You retort back with attitude, conflicting emotions causing you to play into his game, whatever it was.

Eddie shakes his head in disbelief, “I’m gonna kiss you.” He tells you openly, “After that, if you change your mind, that’s fine.”

You find yourself nodding without fully realizing and Eddie’s lips are against yours in a slow press, not hurried or rushed, a small noise pulled from your lips as he pushes further, lips smacking against yours loudly. You inhale sharply, the scent of Eddie surrounding you—it was sweat and cigarettes and everything that would normally disgust you in an instant, but with Eddie it was intoxicating. Your hands drift to his face carefully, thumbs dragging along his cheeks gently, pulling up to wrap your arms around his neck, fully giving yourself over to him, allowing yourself to cherish the moment properly. 

Eddie muffled a soft laugh against your lips, a hand cupping the side of your face out of curiosity, wanting to touch you as much as he possibly could while still trying to be respectful to you. Eddie seems to forget how dirty he is though, because when he does finally pull away, he’s laughing again. 

“Fuck, I forgot,” He says, reaching for the clean handkerchief in his back pocket, wiping the dark mark off of your face, “sorry.”

“You apologize too much.” You tell him, shoving his hand away playfully. “—I will, by the way.”

Eddie beams at the answer, “I fucking knew it.”

“Hey—no gloating,” You warn him and Eddie shrinks slightly, it was a wonder what a stern voice could do, and you’d mastered that pretty well in the past few years, “we need to be careful about this—whatever this is.”

Eddie nods, “Yeah, of course.”

“Riley can’t know, my job—no one.” You tell him. “If this is just a one time thing, I don’t want it ruining anything.”

And Eddie should feel slighted, but he does understand.

“It won’t.” He assures you and you hate how easily it makes you smile.

You both knew there was no possible way this was going to be a one time thing. You’d be lying to yourself. 

“Good.” You smile triumphantly, “Now—are you driving or am I?” 

Eddie snatches the keys from your hands with an eye roll and a self-righteous smirk.

There was never a way for you to realize just how much trouble you were getting yourself into, not yet.