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toniiswrld · 4 months

Text

into you ☆ l.at

lee anton x fem reader

your mom and her best friend set you up with your old friend from childhood, and you two pretend to date in order to keep them happy. but what happens when feelings start to brew, and the past gets revealed?

college!au, fake dating, ex friends to semi friends to lovers, slowburn, mutual pining, fluff, a bit of angst, smut 18+ MDNI, anton is a self sabotaging idiot.

🎀 cw. smut (ofc), dom!anton, fingering, not really a size kink but anton's size is mentioned a few times, overstimulation, unprotected sex (pls wrap it up,,) creampie, little bit of dry humping, cum eating

⭐️ wc. 15.7k

🎧 into you . tamia • sycamore girl . rex orange county

"i feel like it's so humiliating having my mom set me up on a date." you hold the phone in between your cheek and your shoulder, trying your best to find a good enough outfit.

your best friend, sky, was your emotional support through this whole situation. "it's kind of cute though, like she's looking out for you in a way" she says over the speaker, and you roll your eyes at her comment.

"right, because nothing is cuter than your mom saying 'you're so lonely i'm going to take matters into my own hands'," a hard sigh leaves your lips.

"well when you put it that way, i guess you're right. but this could be nice! what if he's nice, what if he's hot-"

"please, i don't really have a lot of hope in whatever nice guy has picked out"

speaking of the nice guy, you heard the doorbell ring and you sigh again knowing that the next few hours you could be spending rotting in bed, you will now be spending with a mystery man who's probably some secret asshole that's masked as an angel by your mother.

you get off the phone with sky and make your way downstairs towards the door, slipping your shoes and sweater on. you look to your side and see your mom walking down the hall with a bright smile on her face. as you open the door, you see someone you never expected to see.

lee anton.

he has this near fake smile on his face when the door opens, making eye contact with you and then smiling at your mom who was behind you.

"hi y/n, hi mrs.l/n" he starts and you have to fight your eyes from rolling so hard. why was he here? surely he wasn’t… no. no way

"hello anton, you look so handsome, come in, come in!" your mom now is pushing you to the side to drag the boy into the house.

"now y/n, i didn't tell you before because i wanted to make sure you wouldn't freak out, but anton here is your date!"

and that's when a piece of your soul died.

"excuse me?" you try your absolute hardest to not yell, but the confusion and slight anger is building up.

ever since you were little, your mom and antons mom always wished that you two would end up together. you two were friends up until high school, but with new friend groups and new interests the two of you went down different paths. it happens and there weren't really any hard feelings, at least until he started completely ignoring your existence. you didn't hate him, but you were not pleased with his past behavior. and you definitely were not pleased right now.

"don't be rude y/n, this is a great thing! you're a beautiful girl, and anton is a handsome boy. you two have known each other since you were kids and you both go to the same university! it's a perfect match. now you two hurry up and go so you don't miss the reservation i made. have fun" she shoves you two out of the door before you could protest any further and anton is saying goodbye to your mom in his fake sweet voice he's always used with her.

if only she knew that you two haven't spoken since junior year of high school.

you fold your arms across your chest while you walk towards antons car, him rushing to catch up to you so he could open the door.

"how nice of you" you taunted, giving him a fake smile before stepping into the passenger's seat of his car. he gives you that same fake smile before closing the door, not saying a word to you. he walks around the car and gets in, putting on his seatbelt and starting the car.

"you want aux?" he finally speaks, pressing the bluetooth options on his car to connect your phone if you'd like. you happily oblige, not wanting to listen to whatever he wants to put on. even if you two had very similar taste in music, you would always argue that your taste is better. once you press shuffle on your main playlist, he pulls his car out of your driveway and starts the drive to the restaurant your mother picked out for you.

you shift in the seat so you're leaning towards the window, and you open your messages to text your friend sky about the insane situation you were in,

you: oh my fucking god you: its anton you: lee fucking anton!! my mom is sick sky: omg you two haven't talked since highschool! sky: please don't kill him you: no promises sky: maybe you two will fall in love now you: over my dead body sky: if you are gonna be in the same space as him for the next few hours, maybe ask him to put me on with wonbin you: do not use my pain and suffering as a way to get dick sky: i'm trying to find ways for us both to benefit from this! sky: i shouldn't have to suffer because you don't want to talk to anton sky: plus anton is hot! as fuck! i say give it a shot, and if it works out then i can have a shot at his sexy friend you: you are evil sky: update me later babes

aside from the music playing in the car, the ride to the restaurant was silent. anton wanted to talk, but he just couldn't find the right words to say. not like you would want to listen to anything he'd say anyways. but it was just for the car ride, he told himself he'd talk once you two were seated.

pulling into the parking lot, anton parks the car and turns off the ignition. he got out of the car and did a slight speed walk so he could open your door to let you out, and this time the smile was genuine as you got out of the car.

he's not an asshole, you think. i guess i could try and make the most of this date.

he was never an asshole to you, even throughout the years you haven't spoken. of course, avoiding you and acting like you don't exist at events could be taken as being an asshole, but it's not bad compared to the way you've been treated by other men. he's always been a sweet, well-mannered, soft spoken boy.

you two weren't best friends back then, but it still hurt when the two of you drifted apart.

as you two walk into the restaurant, anton talks to the host about the reservation your mother made and you two get seated at a nice booth near the back.

"so, did you know about this? like, did you know that i was the person you were getting set up with?" you start, not looking at him but looking at the menu to get a feel of what you'd want once the waiter comes around to ask for drinks.

"well not at first, but my mom kept hinting at things that traced back to you. wasn't surprised though, they've been trying to set us up since we were in elementary school." he says it almost with no emotion, and you react with a small laugh that makes him smile.

"what kinds of things did she say?" you're intrigued once you really process what he said.

"well" he starts, and you lean into the table with interest. "it wasn't anything out of the ordinary. she was just like 'you should come to visit this weekend, there's a girl i think you would really hit it off with. you actually know her and you two would make a great couple blah blah blah.' things she's already said to me before trying to set me and you up. your mom really didn't give you any hints about today?" it was his turn now to be intrigued, remembering how shocked you were to see him at the door earlier.

"i had no idea. i was scared she was setting me up with some ugly asshole that she would think i would like, when she really has no idea what my type is. she just told me to come for the weekend and was like 'oh he's a sweetheart you're going to love him!' and that was that." you mock your moms swooning voice and anton laughs.

the next hour and a half at the restaurant went well, you two were able to break the awkwardness and catch up from the past years. it felt good honestly. the relief of getting a friend back was always the best feeling.

once you two finished eating, the waiter came around to hand you guys the bill. you figured you two would just split it, this was technically a date but you didn't really think of it that way. and you didn't want anton spending his money on you, you both were forced on this 'date' and it wouldn't be fair in your eyes for him to pay for you. you quickly turn to grab your wallet out of your purse, but once you get your card out the waiter is already walking away with antons card.

"dude, you didn't have to do that!" you whisper yell at him, and he just chuckles.

"don't worry about it. date or not, if you pulled your card out it would look like i was some broke asshole trying to split the bill" he says in his soft voice and you nod, understanding where he was coming from.

the waiter comes back around with antons card, and you guys make your way out of the restaurant and back to his car. he opens the door for you again, you step in and make yourself comfortable this time, adjusting the seat to your liking.

the ride to your house was silent, but it was a comfortable silence. you didn't really know what this meant for the two of you. were you guys friends again? was this really a date and there were more in the foreseeable future? was this just a one time thing?

to be completely honest you didn't want to date anton. not that he wasn't attractive, you would be living a lie if you said he wasn't. he was definitely one of the most attractive guys you've ever seen, but it would just be weird to date him. you guys were friends and it was still a semi-mystery on where you two stand in terms of friendship. and did you really want to date someone your mom set you up with? you're still in college and honestly you don't know what exactly you want yet.

"so um, i'll walk you to the door" suddenly the quiet was awkward again as he got out of the car to let you out and walk you to the front door. and now here you two were, standing awkwardly in front of the door both trying to think of something to say.

why was it so weird now? you were both fine holding a conversation not even an hour ago.

"sorry that our moms pushed us into doing this, but it was nice to uh- it was nice to talk to you again" anton puts his hands in his jean pockets and looks down at you with a sheepish smile, and you look up at him and smile back.

"yeah, it was nice seeing you. you're not gonna go ghost on me again after this are you? cus i know where you live, and i'll tell your mom" you threaten him, and he puts his hands up in defense. if there's one thing you remember about your friendship with anton, it was that his mom did not play about you. if even a scratch got on you when you and anton were together, he would get an earful about being too reckless. even if you were the reckless one

"there's no need for all of that! i won't go ghost on you, it's nice to get a friend back"

"well then, i'll see you on campus?" you look up at him, and he nods.

"see you on campus"

and with that, you put your keys into the door and make your way into the house, giving anton a small wave goodbye before closing the door and taking off your shoes. as you make your way through the house and pass the living room, you see your mother sitting on the couch with a smile so wide her face probably hurts.

"next time you ask me to come home for the weekend to go on a date, i'm blocking your number" you joke, and she rolls her eyes before getting up and walking towards you excitedly.

"how did it go? isn't he just the sweetest boy? are you guys going out on another date? did you kiss?" she wiggles her eyebrows and you nearly gag.

"mom! oh my gosh, no i did not kiss anton! what kind of girl do you think i am? i don't kiss on the first date" she lets out a small pfft at your response.

"so you’re saying there's a second date?" the tone in her voice is teasing and expectant, and you shut her down again.

"that's not what i meant... and i wouldn't even call that a date. we had a nice time though"

"i think you should give him a chance y/n" her hands run up both your arms, giving them a small squeeze when she reaches your shoulders. she gives you a look that almost makes you want to give into her, but you have to stand on your own words.

"i think that, i'm going to go upstairs and go to sleep and forget today happened"

the next day you're making your way back to campus, leaving earlier in the day so you can hang out with sky before she's too tired to listen to your rambling.

"i can't believe you didn't text or call me last night to give me all the juicy details about your date with anton!" sky whines, plopping next to you on the couch with a frown on her face.

"it was not a date, and i wanted to tell you in person that's why i didn't tell you anything! you should be thanking me for being such a thoughtful and considerate friend"

"yeah yeah, now let's hear it. how was it? what was he wearing, did he smell good, did you guys kiss-"

"what is up with people thinking i just go around kissing everyone? i did not fucking kiss anton, and i didn't smell him! you weirdo..." you playfully slap her shoulder, and she giggles. "but it was fine. it was more like catching up with an old friend than a date."

"so are you guys friends again? it's been how many years since you've talked?"

"like 3 years now... it's so weird! it was so awkward at the start too, like i didn't know what to say to him and then it being a date that our moms planned just made it even worse"

"this is good though! now that you two are friends, i can stop trying to avoid his friend." she’s smirking now, and you give her the meanest side eye. she’s been crushing on wonbin for months now, but she didn’t want to date one of antons friends for your sake. You did have some mutual friends, but you wouldn't go past the line of friendship with anyone who was associated with anton because you didn't want to cross paths with him more than necessary.

"i really can't believe you would take advantage of this situation to hook up with wonbin!"

"i'm just putting it in the air that i would totally fuck antons friend if given the opportunity. and with your little situation you give me the perfect opportunity to shoot my shot" she says matter of factly, and you know that you can't stop her once she has her mind to something so you just sigh.

"you're unbelievable"

after debriefing your saturday with sky, you two were still hanging out on the couch watching tv. truthfully, the tv was watching you both since you were both on your phones. while you were scrolling through videos, an unexpected notification pops on the top of your screen.

it was anton. what was he texting you for? technically you two were friends again, but you didn't know you two would be back on a texting basis so soon.

ant: are you back on campus? ant: this is anton btw you: i knew it was you you: but yeah i'm on campus, what's up? ant: can you meet me in the dining hall you: right now? ant: if you're not busy right now, then yeah you: i'll be there in 10

“i'm gonna go to the dining hall to get some snacks, you want anything?”

“just a soda pleaseee”

you go to your room to change your sweatpants to jeans and throw on a hoodie, then you make your way out of your apartment to meet anton. luckily, it wasn't a long walk from where you lived. it was a small apartment off campus that you and sky split. as you’re nearing your destination, you see the boy standing outside on his phone while he waited for you. he looks up and sees you, waving you over once you notice him.

“hey” he breathes out once you reach him, and you put your hands in your hoodie pocket while you look up at him.

“hi” you give him a small smile, following him as you two walk into the dining hall.

“you weren’t busy or anything, right? i didn't mean to interrupt your afternoon” he finds a nice table for you two to sit, and you watch as he fidgets with his fingers.

“no, no don't worry i wasn't doing anything. but what's up?”

he lets out a sigh and runs his fingers through his hair. he seemed nervous, which was making you nervous. you literally saw him yesterday, what could have happened in the last 24 hours?

“don’t be mad, okay?”

“you can’t tell me not to get mad anton, now i'm preparing to be mad.” you roll your eyes, the concern you had turning into a lack of patience. he should know by now how much of an impatient person you were, never liking suspense or surprises.

“well um, after yesterday my mom was really happy that we went on a ‘date’,” he puts finger quotes over the word date, and you raise an eyebrow “...and she kept going on and on about us being a couple”

“you told her we weren’t dating, right?”

silence. it was your time to sigh now, already knowing where this was headed.

“anton…” your voice drifts, and he jumps to defend himself.

“she was just so happy! i didn't want to let her down. so she’s kind of under the assumption that we’re dating.” he puts his head down, probably because he expected you to start yelling at any moment.

“dude! you can't just do that without telling me, now my mom’s gonna think we’re together too” it was your time to sigh now, confusion and a tang of anger brewing through you.

“i'm sorry, really. but thats why i needed to see you, i think i have a solution for this”

“the solution better be you telling your mom that we’re not together, anton” your voice is serious, and you fold your arms over your chest.

“well not exactly, we could just let our moms think we’re a couple whenever we are around them, but we don't have to really be together! that way we can still be friends and they can be happy” he says it like it's the greatest idea in the world, and you stare at him blankly for a few seconds.

“are you insane? i am not doing that.” a scoff leaves your lips, and he gives you a defeated look before he tries again.

“it's just for our moms! no one has to know” it’s honestly comical at this point how he was borderline begging you. but you understand where he’s coming from. if you told your mom that you and anton really weren’t dating, you would never hear the end of it and she would keep trying to get you two together.

“i'll think about it. but you're buying me lunch”

you spent the night in your room thinking. it really wasn't a bad idea, but fake or not, did you want to date anton? just for the sake of your moms, and no one else had to know. it would be believable in the eyes of your moms, since you two were friends again you two would be hanging out.

i guess i could pretend to date him for a little bit. how often would we be around our parents for it to be a problem? if we’re always on campus, they won't expect to see us that much. you were mumbling to yourself, weighing your options before you decided to text anton your decision.

you: i thought about it ant: so? you: it's just for our moms you: and you're buying me food for a month! ant: deal

you have your head in your hands while you try to keep yourself focused for the last 20 minutes of class, bored out of your mind while your professor talks at the slowest pace known to man. you're spacing out now, twirling your pen between your fingers and staring straight forward. letting your eyes drift, they fall on anton. he was sitting in the row in front of you, and from where he was sitting you were able to see his side profile. it almost looked like he was sleeping, which wouldn’t surprise you since you were also super bored.

how do you go back to being friends with someone after years of not talking? the two of you were cool but you can't help but think that it would be awkward for a little bit until you two were comfortable again. how much has he changed? how much have you changed? what if you have nothing in common anymore, and it was the universe's plan for you two to drift apart?

stop overthinking things, you guys are just friends. there was nothing to overthink, right?

after a few more minutes of arguing with your inner monologue, class is finally over. you're packing up your things when you notice someone is standing over you. you look up to see anton.

“do you want to get lunch? if you don't have any classes after this, of course. it'll be me and some of my friends, you can invite sky too if you want since i know you’re not very familiar with all of them” he says to you softly. You were kind of hungry now that he’s brought up food, and who would you be to deny a free meal?

“thank god you asked me, i'm starving. let me text sky to see if she wants to join” You get out of your seat and follow anton out of the classroom and to the dining hall.

you text sky to come to the dining hall, and that you'll be having lunch with anton. You tell her that wonbin will be there too knowing that she’ll get there faster than the speed of light. and you were right, once you and anton were turning the corner you could see sky out of breath as she came up to you.

“y/n!! no matter what i do, i just can't get my grade up higher than a c in chem! i don't know how anyone is passing that class, i swear i'm going to kill my professor- oh, hi anton!” sky is ranting to you while barely catching her breath, and then she realizes that anton was standing next to you. she gives him a smile, and then gives you a look.

if anton wasn’t right there, you would hit her and tell her to cut it out. You knew her look was a ‘he looks good’ type of look, and you didn't want him to pick up on her nonsense.

“hey sky, and who’s your chem professor? i heard mr.jung was a pain in the ass, one of my friends has him for chem too” you all make your way to where antons friends are sitting now, eying the group to see if anyone else you know is there.

“i have mr.jung! i swear im gonna kill myself if he doesn’t raise my grade.” sky pouts, and you all stand before the table, anton going to introduce you and sky to the group.

“guys this is y/n and sky” he raises his voice a bit so everyone can hear him, and everyone waves and says hi to you both. “y/n, sky, this is sohee, wonbin, sullyoon, and seunghan”

You already knew sohee and sullyoon, you all were partners in a project for bio last semester and got kind of close. and you didn’t know wonbin aside from sky thirsting over him for the last two years, showing you every little thing he posted on social media like he was some celebrity crush. and seunghan you weren’t too familiar with, could be simply because you don't have any classes with him in it and you don't know much of the friends anton has made since you two talked last.

you finally take a seat next to anton, sky and sohee sitting across from you. his friends are cool, you admit as you make good conversation with everyone at the table. you didn’t have a real friend group on campus, you mainly only talked to sky along with a few other people but they were all a part of different crowds. so it was nice that anton let you join in with his group of friends.

“do you want to get your food now? i can get it for you if you want to stay here,” anton leans over to talk to you, loud enough for only you to hear.

“no its fine ill come with” you turn to face him and you two let the table know you’re getting food and you’ll be right back.

you two grab trays and fill up your plates, now going to the line to pay for the food. You decide now you should quickly run over some rules about how this fake relationship is going to go, since you’re hanging out with his friends you don't want any suspicions about what your relationship with anton was.

“we’re keeping this whole thing a secret from our friends, right? ” you ask him, and he takes a moment to think before he responds.

“if you want to keep it a secret then sure, it might be weird to tell people that we’re faking a relationship, and that way we don't have to fake it in front of our friends” he lets out a soft laugh, and you nod in agreement.

“that’s true, telling sky that you’re my boyfriend would raise all kinds of hell”

Unfortunately, neither you or anton realized sohee was walking up behind you both and was able to pick up on the last bits of your conversation. intrigued, he butts in to stand in between you two. “hey guys, what's all this talk about boyfriend and girlfriend? You two dating?” he smirks, and you and anton stare at him and then at each other in shock.

this cannot be happening.

“What?” you let out a nervous chuckle “no, we’re not” it comes out faster than you can process, and you look at sohee with a smile hoping that he believes you. but he doesn't. not even a little bit.

he squints, giving you a look and then giving the same look to anton and then looking back at you. “You were just saying that anton was your boyfriend though.” you look past sohee to look at anton, he was paying for your food while you were being interrogated by sohee. Your body is heating up with anxiety, realizing nothing you say could get this boy to drop the topic. curse him for being so nosey.

“We just haven't told anyone yet, we didn’t want to make it a big deal.” anton chimes in before you could think of a reasonable response, and now you and sohee were looking at anton with wide eyes.

“this is great! we all thought there had to be something going on with you two,” he’s teasing you two now, and all you could do was sigh. this entire situation taking a sharp turn and you know that sohee was going to tell everyone, and there was no escape from being antons fake girlfriend.

Why did he have to tell sohee that you two were together? again, doing things without letting you know first. and he’s a bit of a loudmouth, so you know when he’s walking away that he’s going to tell the table that you two were together.

“What the fuck anton? Why did you do that” You whine, grabbing your food tray from him while you make your way back to the table.

You honestly don't even want to talk to him right now. You were annoyed, you were just agreeing that you two would keep it a secret?

anton follows close behind you, understanding your anger since he didn’t realize what he was saying until he said it. truthfully, his mind went into fight or flight for a moment. the easiest thing he could think of to get sohee to leave you two alone was to just give into what he was saying. obviously, he didn’t realize the gravity of his words until after the fact.

as you two approach the table, everyone is looking at you guys and smiling. You want to scream. this seriously cannot be my life.

“the love birds are back!!” Wonbin cheers, and the rest of the table follows along with whistles and cheers.

“y/n, why didn't you tell me! you had me thinking we hated him” sky pouts as you sit down, and antons ears perk up at this. you hated him? he took note in his mind to ask you about that later.

“you guys could have told us, y'know. we would have figured it out anyways. the tension is definitely there” sullyoon comments while she takes a bite of her food. the rest of the table nods in agreement, and you let out a small scoff.

What tension are they talking about? the few encounters with anton that you’ve had with him before this weekend were definitely tense, but only because it was awkward. Whatever tension they thought they felt was out of pure delusion.

You don't know how much more of this you could put up with.

the week went by slowly. almost too slow for your liking. it was finally friday, and your mom is texting you to come home for the weekend again, and to bring anton with you.

truthfully, you’ve been ignoring him all week. after that little stunt he pulled on monday, after you finished your food you lied and told everyone you had to get ready for your next class. it wasn’t a full lie since you did have a class, but it wasn't for another hour and a half. You just couldn't bear being at that table, and being around him. he texted you once you left to ask if you were alright, and you just gave him a simple ‘im fine’. he texted you again on tuesday, and then yesterday but you ignored them. You probably should respond, before he starts asking sky or sullyoon about you. and it would probably be a good idea to stop avoiding antons friends as well when you pass by them on campus. it wouldn’t be a good look for you or for anton, and you don't want to come off as rude to anyone

as you were packing some clothes along with your basic necessities to go to your moms house, your phone starts to ring. You walk over to where you set it to look at who was calling, and of course it was the person you were thinking about. You thought about declining it, but you decided to answer.

“What do you want, anton.” your voice was monotone and feigning annoyance, not really in the mood to talk to him.

“Um, are you doing anything right now?” he sounds nervous, and you decide maybe you should relax and talk to him calmly.

You might be upset with him right now, but you can’t be mean to him even if you tried. he was always sweet to you, so it wouldn’t be fair to talk to him like that if he wasn’t going to talk back.

“i’m just packing up some stuff to go to my moms. you’re going too, right? she wants to have a dinner or something, with us and your parents”

“yeah, that's why i called. im actually here to pick you up, it would be better if we showed up together than separately” he chuckles nervously and you hum in response.

“oh! okay well… i should hurry up then. i'll be outside in a few minutes.” you say quickly, and he lets out a soft ‘okay’ before ending the call. You shove everything into your little bag, not needing a lot since you already had things at your moms and you were only going to be there for the weekend. saying bye to sky, you put your shoes on and walk out to meet with anton outside.

once you push through the front doors of your apartment building, you see anton leaning on the door of his car while he waits for you. he sees you, and hurries to catch you and help you with your bag. it wasn't even a heavy bag, but the gesture was nice. and of course he’s opening the door to the passengers seat for you, making sure you’re fully seated before closing the door and making his way into the driver's seat.

he’s putting his seatbelt on when you decide to break the silence. “sorry for ignoring you all week. i was just kind of shaken by everything that happened monday” your voice is soft, playing with your fingers while you talk.

he doesn't say anything for a few seconds, and you start to wonder if he was mad at you. You couldn’t blame him, you would be mad if someone ignored you for a week too.

“it’s fine, i figured you wanted some space. i’m sorry i told sohee that we were dating, i kind of panicked and i didnt know how else to get him to leave us alone. and i didnt think he would go and tell everyone, so i’m sorry.”

“it’s okay, anton. i can't really be mad at you, because i don't even know if i would have said anything better than you did. it just caught me off guard” you’re looking at him now, shifting in the seat a bit so you weren't turning your neck too much. he looks at you and smiles softly, going back to looking at the road.

a comfortable silence fell between the two of you as he drove, the dreaded talk about monday relieving the awkward tension in the vehicle. as he turns into the neighborhood, you sigh knowing what's going to unfold once you step foot through the front door of your mothers house.

With the combination of your mom and antons mom being crazy about you two being together, you were glad that his dad was the only normal one. he was completely fine with you two just being good friends and you were so grateful for that. often, he would have to be the peacemaker in the room telling mrs.lee and your mom to calm down and let you two be.

“i think we should make some… ground rules for this whole thing. for now and for back on campus.” you state as he pulls into the driveway, and once he parks the car he shifts so he can face you.

“i agree, anything you have in mind?”

You two come up with some standard rules, some things are a hard no and some are subject to change.

rule #1- don't let anyone know its a fake relationship: it would be embarrassing if anyone knew that rule #2- keep it believable, but nothing extreme rule #3- adding onto number 2, keep the pda and flirting to a safe minimum, and no kissing rule #4- no dating/flirting with other people: fake or not, if people think you’re in a relationship do not try to get into another one. rule #5- anton owes you food for 3 months for putting you into this situation. its only fair! rule #6- the most important, do not catch feelings. You guys were just friends! two friends, pretending to date in front of your family and friends. it was all pretend though, no feelings were actually involved, right?

dinner went well, sitting next to anton while the adults talked about their own things and occasionally asking questions to the both of you. luckily not a lot of relationship topics were brought up. You two were able to have your own conversations throughout dinner, which reminded you of the dinners you all would have throughout your childhood.

once everyone was finished eating, anton helped your mother in the kitchen while you sat in the living room with his parents.

“y/n, i am so happy that you and anton are finally a couple! i feel like i’ve been waiting for this all my life” mrs.lee cheers, and you smile along with her. “isn't he just the sweetest boy?”

“he’s very sweet, probably the sweetest i’ve been with” you tell her and she's cheesing so hard. honestly, making the relationship believable wasn't going to be hard around mrs.lee and your mom, because you have no complaints about anton. he truly was the sweetest boy. even if you two weren’t really dating, he was respectful and very gentlemanly.

“We have his father to thank for that,” mrs.lee nudges at her husband, and he just gives a small chuckle at the comment.

“ i always taught him to be respectful. but truthfully the reason he’s so sweet to y/n is because he likes you” mr.lee starts, and you have to remember to not reject his words since you were trying to keep up an act here.

all you could do was let out an awkward laugh, not sure what to say to add onto the conversation. “maybe, but he’s sweet to everyone” you try to act humble, and mr.lee gives you a look that tells you that you were wrong.

“he may be nice to everyone, but i don't think you realize just how differently he treats you than anyone else. even when you two were younger and friends, he was always the nicest to you. and don't tell him i told you this, but he had a little crush on you back in middle and highschool.” he whispers the last part, and you feel your heart drop to your feet.

“h-he did? i had no idea…” words coming out soft now, you drop your head to stop the blood from rushing into your face.

“he would always come home and tell us about something you did that day. he got over it after a while, but i bet he’s so happy that you two are finally together!” mrs.lee swoons, and you suddenly feel lightheaded.

this is all too much. anton used to like you? how come he never said anything? You excused yourself from his parents, and made your way to the kitchen.

“hey mom, i’m a little tired so im gonna head upstairs.” You walk in to her drying and putting away dishes, while anton washes them. he looks over you, noticing the tone in your voice along with the look on your face wasn’t because of fatigue, but that something was wrong.

“okay baby, let me know if you need anything.” she walks to the end of the kitchen island where you were standing, giving you a hug goodnight. “anton, why don't you go with y/n upstairs? it's getting late, and i can finish up in the kitchen.” she turns from you to look at the boy scrubbing away at a pot, and he stops dead in his tracks at her words.

“i was just going to head back with my parents once we finished,” he starts, looking at your mom and then at you, not wanting to intrude. he did want to talk to you, but he didn’t want to be in your space if you didn't want him there.

“don't be silly, anton! You two are a couple and are old enough now, i don't have to separate you two” she laughs, and you and anton just stare at each other awkwardly. You were going to tell her to let it go, but because of the unique situation you two were in it was probably the best idea to follow your moms orders. You motion for him to follow you, you both saying goodnight to your mom and then to his parents. You’re walking towards the stairs to go to your room, when anton tells you that he’ll be back to get his bag out of his car.

While he grabs his things, you make your way up to your room. You leave the door open, just in case anton doesn't remember which room was yours. Walking to your window, you open it and stick your head out so you can get some fresh air.

What a night, you’re thinking to yourself. You need to calm down. With what happened on monday and what antons parents were telling you earlier, you were just too in your head. too much was happening too fast. Why was this affecting you so much? and with that you hear footsteps coming into your room and then a door closing.

“are you alright? You looked a little flushed downstairs” the soft voice calls to you, and you know that its anton.

You take a deep breath before turning to face him. “i'm fine. i am now, at least. i just kind of felt bad for lying right in my mom and your parents' faces. i had to get away from them” your voice is low while you speak, looking to the floor once again to avoid his eyes. he takes note of your body language, seeing that you’re a bit tense and awkward now but he doesn’t want to pry.

“if you want i can sleep on the floor,” he’s placing his bag on the chair by your desk, grabbing something to change into for bed.

“no, that's too uncomfortable. You can sleep on the bed” you say it in a way where its clear there's no room for debate, and he nods.

anton would never admit it to you, but he found you severely intimidating. even when you two were younger, he was always intimidated by you. You carried yourself well, you didn’t take bullshit from anyone, always got your way, and you were stubborn. he was surprised your personalities didn't clash, he felt like you wouldn't want to be friends with someone like him. but truthfully that's what brought you two together. it was like fire and ice, you were the fire and he was the ice to cool you down.

but with being the ice, he was too scared to touch you in fear that he would melt.

another week passes by, and you feel like you were going insane. You don't know what it is, but every time you see anton, your heart starts racing, your face heats up along with the rest of your body.

When he holds your hand or rests his hand on your thigh when you two were out with friends, you had to keep your composure to the best of your ability. especially when he would subconsciously graze his thumb across the back of your hand, the action small and going unnoticed to the naked eye, but feeling too intimate for you and you would pull your hand away.

the days that he would come over to your apartment or you would go to his dorm to hang out after classes, you found yourself feeling nervous. especially when you two were at your place, seeing him in your room and in your bed had you feeling like jelly. sometimes he would fall asleep before you, and you wouldn’t wake him up. it would be late, and you would feel bad for waking him up and making him go back to his dorm. You were comfortable enough around him anyways to tell him to move, and he never slept too close to you throughout those nights. a deep part of you wished he did, though. but you don't want to think about crossing that path yet.

a few more days passed, and on wednesday, you went with him to his swim practice so you two could go back to your apartment and order takeout once he was finished. You brought a book with you since you didn’t know much about swimming, and you wanted to keep yourself occupied while you waited.

an hour of practice goes by and lets just say, not a single page of the book you brought with you was read. not like you would be able to focus on reading anyways, seeing how he swam in the water was a lot more entertaining than you thought. along with how he looked when he pushed himself out of the water, full body on display. his broad shoulders, his toned arms and stomach, the droplets of water dripping from his hair down his back, the way he throws his head back to move his hair out of his face-

Wait a damn minute.

You needed to leave, feeling hot suddenly. Were you really sitting here thirsting over anton? of course, you always found him attractive. You would be silly if you didn't. but you never had any thoughts about him. and you don't want right now, in the campus pool, to be where you start. You walk down the bleachers, trying to think of an excuse of why you’re leaving the building.

“y/n? are you leaving?” anton catches you before you could find him, you turn around to see him speed walking towards you and you almost let out a giggle seeing he hasn't taken his goggles off.

“it’s just kind of humid in here. i'm gonna sit outside until you finish, okay?” you clutch your bag a bit tighter, him standing wet and shirtless in front of you is making you nervous. he’s peering down at you, smiling lightly before he lets you know he’ll be out in around 30 minutes.

You nearly trip on your way out, feeling refreshed once you finally escape the pool room air. You take your phone out of your pocket, debating on texting sky. she didn’t know that you and antons relationship was all a facade, so what exactly could you tell her? should you just tell her the truth? You couldn't do that, that would be breaking the rules. and who knows what she would do if she found out. You had to mask it with something else in order to get your feelings off your chest.

You: sky You: sky pls You: i'm going insane sky: what what what You: okay so… yk me and anton sky: i’m aware You: well we’ve been together for about two weeks and some days You: and there's been some tension You: that wasn't there before sky: like sexual? sky: you havent fucked that boy yet? You: omfg You: no! we haven't gotten there yet… sky: so ur telling me, you've been dating a fine ass man… sky: and you havent fucked him… for what reason? sky: better than me y/n… i would have been jumped his bones You: sky you are so unserious You: but help me out here! do i tell him? or do i just go for it sky: i say talk to him first because what if he isn't ready You: ur so right sky ily sky: lyt babes ;)

Using sex fantasies as a mask for your feelings was definitely a choice, but it helped you out regardless. of course, now you have more things to think about. did you really want to date anton? You told yourself you didn't before, but now you weren't so sure. he was the full package, everything you could ask for in a guy. so there was really nothing stopping you. but you two were friends.

he also used to like you back in grade school. key word: used to. What if he completely got over you and wouldn’t even think about dating you now? this was a tough situation, and you don't know how much longer you could keep this up with repressed feelings.

after 10 more minutes of overthinking, you can feel a presence behind you so you quickly turn your body to see anton right behind you.

“You ready?” he’s looking down at you again, hair slightly covering his eyes because of the beanie he wore. his body once again covered up by the baggy hoodie along with the black sweatpants he wore. You would never be able to guess how built he really was under the clothes he chose to wear.

You realize you might be staring a little too hard for a little too long so you give him a nod. “Yeah, let's go” and he’s taking you by the hand while you follow him to his car.

he drives you two to the nearest food place you guys could agree on. You two agree on getting wings for tonight, and then make your way to your apartment. once you enter, you see sky sitting in the living room. she gives you a look only you two would be able to understand, with anton right behind you.

sky greets you two, and anton greets her back while you take off your shoes and then make your way into the kitchen. You grab two sodas, and walk out to where anton was standing. he was usually a bit awkward around your apartment if you weren’t telling him where to go, too scared that he would touch something he shouldn’t.

following you to your room with the food, anton shuts the door softly behind him. the boy was already in comfortable clothes, taking a shower before he left the locker rooms after practice and made sure that he brought something he wouldn't be uncomfortable in. You were still wearing a pair of jeans and a cute crop top under a zip up hoodie.

“i'm gonna change in the bathroom, you can pull the food out and put something on the tv,” you tell the boy sitting on your bed, and he hums in response while you leave the room. Walking over to the bathroom down the hall, you take this time to relax yourself.

You quickly change into a pair of sweats and an old tshirt, and you walk further down the hall to the living room to quickly talk to sky.

“are you fucking him tonight? let me know so i can put in my headpho- ow!” you pinched her arm before she could finish her sentence.

“i am not fucking him! i just came out here to tell you that i'm gonna talk to him about it”

“okay, but if there's a change of plans let me know!”

truthfully you were going to tell him about your feelings, just not tonight. maybe friday, you got invited to a party that sohee was throwing at his frat and you know that anton will be there too.

You walk back into your room now, seeing the food laid out and a movie ready for you as you get situated next to anton on your bed. he put on some action movie, which was a genre you both equally enjoyed. being around anton was comfortable. You two were able to sit in silence, laugh, and talk without any judgments.

this could either end really good or really, really bad.

it was friday. the day you would tell anton about your feelings. Was it a good idea to tell him at a party? probably not, but the influence of alcohol might help you build up the much needed courage. What could possibly go wrong though, right? the worst he could say is no, and you two could just go back to being friends and drop the fake dating act.

You put on your best party dress, it was black and had the right amount of cleavage and rode up just enough for it to not be too skimpy. knowing how crazy sohee’s parties get, you wanted to make sure that you were dressed for the occasion along with getting antons attention.

sky calls you over, letting you know she’s ready to go. You ride in her car to the party, she’s known as the designated driver for you and your friends since she was the only one who didn't like to drink. What would you do without her?

right as you walk into the house, seunghan is at the door handing you a shot glass. You down it without question, making a face at the liquid burning down your throat. You would love to get absolutely shitfaced right now, but you want to find anton. You’re pushing through the crowd of people before you see him, he’s standing close to the patio window, red solo cup in hand while he talks to sohee and some other guys you’re not familiar with.

“hey anton,” you look at him happily, and he doesn’t even glance at you while he continues his conversation. Weird, he’s never blatantly ignored you like that, but maybe he thought you were someone else. You call him again and he finally looks at you. he glances at your outfit and then back to your face, little to no reaction to your presence.

“hi y/n” he looks at you with a look you can’t quite decipher, and you feel a slight tinge of pain in your chest at this. why was he suddenly so emotionless around you? was he drunk? “can i talk to you, it'll be quick?” he says loud enough for just you to hear, and he excuses himself from his friends while he leads you to a quiet, dimly lit hallway.

“What's up?”

and that's when he lays it on you.

“i think that we should end this.”

You nearly drop to your knees when you hear those words come out of his mouth. “huh?” is all you could muster up, playing it off as you couldn't hear him due to the party.

“this whole fake dating thing, i think we should end it. We’re just friends, right? not like we have feelings for each other or anything… and it’s just too much work and pressure to keep up with a fake relationship” he’s not looking at you now, and all you can do is stand there in shock.

it takes a minute for your brain to start working again, finally able to process your own thoughts and words.

“right. You’re right. i guess it’s for the best if we end it. i’ll um, i’ll see you around” and you’re walking away so fast anton didn't have a chance to say anything else and to stop yourself from crying in front of everyone at this party. You quickly find sky, interrupting her flirt session with wonbin to tell her you guys need to go. she’s holding your hand tight through the crowd and out the door, and once you’re in her car you’re letting it all out. the sobs are uncontrollable now, everything you held in 3 minutes ago just coming out.

You tell sky everything on the way home, feeling like there was no reason to keep anything a secret anymore. “that asshole! i’ll kill him, i really will” sky is heated now, she couldn’t stand seeing you like this and she couldn’t stand knowing who made you like this.

“he’s never talked to me like that. even when he’s annoyed at me! he’s never looked at me with absolutely no emotion… i don't understand what happened” you start to think out loud once you two are inside your apartment, tears dried and the confusion settling in. you’re pacing around the living room and you feel your phone vibrate in your purse. You pull it out to see anton calling you, and you press decline.

Whatever he has to say, you don't want to hear it. You should have known not to say anything. maybe if you had just waited until tomorrow. but if he wanted to end things, what would he have done if you confessed?

sky's phone was ringing now, she picks it up and is nearly yelling into her phone the second she presses answer.

“hello?... Yes, we’re fine. What the fuck is up with anton, man?…okay… i don't think that's going to happen for a while… okay bye.” she sets her phone down, and her eyes soften as she watches you continue to pace the living room. “that was wonbin on the phone, he said anton was a little drunk and he wants to talk to you when you can. they’re trying to sober him up now because he started drinking more after we left. What an idiot,” she’s next to you now, rubbing circles on your back while you stare at the wall.

Yeah, what an idiot. the both of you were idiots, it seems.

another week goes by, and you’ve completely shut everyone out. You ignore texts, you skip classes, you don't even leave the apartment to get food. thank goodness for doordash.

You check your phone, looking at all of the missed calls and messages from the people worried about you. one name sticks out the most, but that's the one name you don't want to talk to right now. avoiding him like he was the plague, along with any of his friends to make sure that he doesn’t hear about you.

Unknown information to you, but sky was out. she was out with the enemy, to be more specific. she had seen anton in the courtyard with wonbin and seunghan, and she made a beeline for the boy. he noticed her almost instantly, preparing for a well deserved lashing or maybe even a slap to the face, but she grabbed him by his forearm and dragged him to a quiet side of the courtyard where she could talk freely.

“You really fucked up, anton.” she's speaking softly. “she hasnt left her room in 5 days. i don't know what to do to get her out.”

“i’ve tried texting and calling her every day, but she doesn't respond.” his voice quieter than usual as he tries to explain himself.

“well can you blame her? you shut her feelings down before she could even get them out!” she’s quick to your defense, which was one of the reasons you loved sky. she always had your back.

“i… it's not like i don't have feelings for her, because shit, i’ve liked that girl since we were 13. but i didn't know that she felt the same way and i was too scared to ruin our friendship” he wanted to cry, ruining something that he wanted so badly with his own thoughts.

he knew that the fake dating would resurface old feelings, but along with the feelings came the other emotions that come with liking you. he was nervous around you, he was too scared that you wouldn’t like him back and that you were only doing this because he put you in this situation. Which was another reason he was too nervous to confess, because this relationship was fake. You two were friends who were just pretending to date. and neither of you were getting anything out of it, so why would you develop romantic feelings for him? he didn't think you liked him, and to protect his heart he had to let you go. but the moment he saw your face drop at that party with tears threatening to fall, he knew he made a mistake. he never wanted to see you make that face again, especially not if it was caused by him.

“You could have maybe asked her how she felt about you two before you just acted on a made up scenario in your head? like do you even think before you say things…” her voice is filled with confusion and annoyance, not understanding how someone could sabotage their own relationships the way he was. and you’re her best friend, so she felt obligated to get some answers for you.

“i was in panic mode! i couldn’t handle being her fake boyfriend anymore when i wanted to be with her for real. do you think she’ll hear me out?” if he had to get on his knees and beg you to give him another chance, he would. he couldn't bear not being with you, and he felt like he’d rather crawl into a corner and die than living his life without you again.

“i don't know, she’s doing everything in her power to avoid you right now. but you better fix this mess or i'll have your head on a stick” she smiles at the end of her threat, reaching to pat anton on the head before walking way.

he was going to make things right.

With a deep breath, anton is knocking on your front door. You were eating some leftovers from some food you ordered the day before, not bothering to order food today. sky must have forgotten her keys again, you think as you walk over to the front door.

“sky you can't keep forgetting your ke- oh.” the one person you dreaded seeing is standing at your door with a bouquet of flowers, and a bag of your favorite candy. if you weren't so upset right now, you probably would have swooned over him coming over unannounced.

“can we talk?” he takes in your appearance, you were wearing a hoodie along with a pair of shorts and slippers. You wouldn't say you looked a mess, but you would have put yourself together a bit more if you had known that anyone other than sky would see you today. his eyes are soft, filled with hope that you’ll let him in.

“i don't really want to talk to you right now” your face is blank, not wanting to show any sort of emotions. You could honestly cry, but you had to stay strong for yourself.

“please? it's really important,” it almost comes out as a plea, and you nearly drop the cold act. seeing him at your door like this, maybe you should let him in? not that you wanted to hear whatever he has to say, but he came all this way.

“fine, but make it quick” grabbing the flowers and candy from him, you let him in and you go to the kitchen to put the flowers in a vase. he sits on the end of your couch, and he's tapping his fingers on his knees while he waits for you to walk into the living room.

When you’re seated on the other end of the couch, you peer your head over to look at anton, who was almost visibly shaking from nervousness.

“okay, what do you want?” the cold act is back, wanting to hear him out before you fold. the gesture of him coming with flowers kind of gave away what was coming from him, but you didn't want to get excited too fast. he hurt your feelings last week, and you weren’t going to let it run past you that easily just because he came to you pleading with flowers. You could, and hell you definitely wanted to, but you were stronger than that.

something about anton made you so weak. normally a strong stubborn person, melting and giving in to whatever he says. You don't know how he could have this effect on you, no one else is able to make you putty in their hands the way anton does. but you can't let him know that. not now, at least.

“i need to apologize for everything. not just for last week, but for putting you into this situation in the first place. when this all started, our moms setting us up like that, i didnt think much of it. but then hanging out with you that day brought back so many memories and i didnt want to stray away from you again. so i lied to my mom, and then i brought up the fake dating idea to you. You probably never knew this, but i’ve had a crush on you since we were in middle school. it went away in junior year when we stopped talking, because you had gotten a boyfriend and i was so upset that you were with someone else. i was too scared to confess to you then, and even now i'm terrified. talking to you again resurfaced all of my old feelings for you and i thought that us being in a fake relationship would bring us closer together. and then i panicked, because i thought you wouldn't like me back. We were getting so close and i was too scared of rejection, i couldn’t tell if you had any feelings for me in that way, so i thought ending it now would stop me from getting hurt” he pauses, and you take in everything he’s saying.

tears that you tried to fight back were falling, you couldn't stop them while you listened to every word the boy beside you said knowing that he was being completely genuine. You could barely look at him, seeing that he looked like he was fighting back tears himself.

“and seeing you at the party, i was planning on talking to you after the party but you looked so pretty i knew i wouldn't be able to stick by your side as a fake boyfriend when all i wanted was to be your real boyfriend. i didn't mean to hurt you, seriously. it nearly killed me when i saw you look at me so heartbroken. i never want to make you upset like that again.“ he was crying too now, and somehow the two of you were no longer on either side of the couch but right in the middle. not touching, but close enough to feel each other's presence. after a minute of calming yourself down, you try to find the right words to say to the boy next to you.

“You’re an idiot, lee anton” is all you could muster up, almost laughing. You sniffle, and you look at anton while he still has his head down. “You’re really an idiot, because how could i not like you back? i’ve never been around a guy as sweet as you, and i might not have seen it a couple years ago but i see it now. Y’know, the other weekend when we were at my moms and you were helping clean up… your parents had told me about your old crush on me. that’s why i was so shaken up, because i was starting to realize my own feelings for you.” he’s finally looking at you now, tears wiped away and an almost smile on his face.

“they told you about that? i wanted to be the one to tell you” his face was a bright red from embarrassment, his parents exposing his past crush on you was not something he would expect from them. And the fact that you weren’t repulsed by his old crush caught him off guard. Of course, you have feelings for him now, but knowing that he liked you when you two were cringey teenagers? You should be laughing at him and calling him crazy.

“ after all the times i friendzoned you during that time? i don't know how you did it. i guess i deserved the rejection last friday as a payback from all the times i shut you down.” humoring the situation was the best thing you could do to ease the tension in the room, and you both chuckle softly at your comment.

he takes your hand into his, shifting his body so hes completely facing you, and you look down at your hands before looking back at his face. he was back to looking serious, with those soft pleading eyes burning into yours.

“y/n, i want you to know that i like you. i like you so much, it physically hurts. i never want to be away from you, and i never want to hurt you. and i want us to be together, for real this time. no bullshit, no rules, no more confusion. You’re the most amazing girl in the world and i can't imagine living a life without you in it. if you’ll let me, can i be your boyfriend?” you want to cry again, this was the cutest confession you’ve ever heard. You take a little bit too long to respond and his mouth is slowly turning into a frown, thinking he's about to be rejected.

“Yes, anton. You can be my boyfriend” you squeeze his hand and now he’s tearing up again. he feels like the happiest person on the planet, finally getting to be with you in the way he wanted. Happy tears stream down your face, and you pull anton into a hug, holding him tightly. He holds you just as tight, breath hitting your neck as he breathes in the scent of your neck.

“We need to go out and celebrate! I wanna take you out, on a real date, and then we can tell everyone that we’re officially together, and-” He had pulled out of your hug so he could list off everything he wanted to do with you, and you had to put your hands on his shoulders to keep him grounded. Even though you love his rambling, his words were coming out quicker than his thoughts and you had to calm him down.

“Woah, let's just hang out tonight? We can go out tomorrow. And we should wait to tell everyone, sky probably still wants to rip your head off and we don't need sohee or anyone else talking” he nods, and he’s still smiling from ear to ear while he looks at you.

“You’re right, i'm just so happy.” he has his hands on your knees now, and his eyes go from where his hands lay, your lips, and your eyes. You trail your eyes to his lips and to his neck, then back at his lips. It was like you both wanted the same thing, but both were too shy to say something. Subconsciously you were slowly closing the gap, his body leaning into yours as well. Noses almost touching, you look into his eyes and give his shoulder a small squeeze to motion him to make a move.

“Can i kiss you?” you can feel the words leaving his lips on your own, and a small desperate please leaves you before the gap is finally closed and his lips are on yours. It was a soft kiss, the both of you getting used to each other. His lips were so soft, and they molded perfectly with yours. You felt his tongue swipe your bottom lip, and you let him into your mouth while you kissed him harder. His hands that were on your knees have moved, one hand resting on your hip while the other made it up your body and cupping the back of your neck to keep you on him. Your hands also snake into his hair, playing with the strands while you two softly make out.

Anton felt like he was in heaven. Kissing you was a dream come true, and it topped anything he could ever imagine. He kissed you softly but full of desperation, like you were going to vanish out of thin air. His grip on your waist got tighter, slightly pulling your body into his and you gasped into his mouth. Pulling away, you look at how dazed anton was. he’s breathing hard, lips swollen and hair disheveled. You didn’t mean to work him up so much from just kissing you, but you can't deny that you weren’t a little worked up yourself. Kissing him was like something you’ve never felt before. A kiss filled with love and desperation was something you haven’t felt before, and it was something you hope you never get used to. You want to kiss him like that every time, all the time.

“Do you want to go to my room?” you breathe out, and he nods his head happily. You stand up, grabbing his hand to bring you to his room.

Your body was heating up, feeling slightly nervous. He’s been in your room before, but as your boyfriend? It was like something in the air shifted. A new tension filled the room once you two stepped inside your room, you closed the door softly before antons hands were on you and pressing your body to the door. You gasp at his sudden control, looking up at him and you see how dark his eyes have gotten. With one hand on your waist and one on the back of your neck, he pulls you in for another kiss. It wasn’t soft like before but still filled with desperation, like he was starved of your lips. Your hands move to his hair and onto his bicep, gripping his arm to hold yourself up while he kisses you eagerly.

He’s strong enough to keep you up himself, but you feel like if you don't hold tightly to him you would melt. The hand on your waist pulls you into him some more, and he’s moving you both from the door to your bed. It was a bit of a struggle getting there, neither of you pulling away to see where you were going. Stumbling on each other's feet, you finally make it to the bed. Only pulling away so he could let you down softly, and you move back to the end of the bed before he’s climbing on top of you. Slotting his own legs between yours, his lips are attaching to your neck and you move your head to the side so he has better access.

You can't ignore the way his thigh is right on your core, not moving but you feel the heat between your legs with how he’s sucking and biting little marks on your neck. His hands rest on your waist under the hoodie you wore, and you lift them just slightly to get a tiny bit of friction going. With every gasp and whimper you let out, it goes through his ears and straight to his dick.

Anton feels you moving, and your own leg that was between his was just right below his growing hard on. He shifts so both his legs are between yours, pressing his core into yours and you let out a moan at the pressure.

You pull at his hair, taking your other hand to run it down his chest and down to his stomach. When your hands stop by his waist,tugging at his shirt indicating that you want it off. “Anton, take your shirt off” you groan out, noticing how he’s too lost in you to notice.

He quickly pulls away, lips and hands leaving your body. You almost felt cold, not having his body heat on you for those quick seconds. He’s sitting up so he can remove his shirt and you stare him down intently as you watch his muscles flex. Biting your lip, you run your hand down his bare chest, taking in the body above you.

“Can i take this off you?” he’s tugging on your hoodie now, and you nod before he helps you sit up slightly to remove the clothing off you before laying you back down. He gasps when he realizes you didn’t have a bra on this whole time, and he instantly attaches his hands to your breasts and gives them a squeeze. You would think this was his first time seeing a woman naked the way he gawks at you, but he’s just so in awe of how beautiful you were.

Leaning back down, his lips are back on yours. It's hot and messy, you can barely breathe the way he touches you. His kisses are trailing back down to your neck, and then his lips find your nipple. You whimper feeling his tongue flick the sensitive bud, one hand tweaking the other. His other hand makes its way down to the hem of your shorts, slightly dipping into your shorts but not enough. Like he was waiting for you to tell him what to do, he left his fingers right there even if you rutted your hips into his hand as a way to get him to touch you. He still wasn't letting up, and you knew that he really wasn't going to touch you unless you told him.

“Anton,” you whine, and he takes his lips off your nipple. His breath on the bud making you shiver, and you whine out again.

“What's wrong, baby?” You couldn’t tell if his voice was laced with fake or genuine concern, and it was killing you. You were probably fully soaked through your panties and shorts, the ache between your thighs getting almost unbearable.

“Want you to touch me” a whine slips past your lips, and you move the hand that was on his chest over where his own rests under the hem of your shorts.

“Yeah?” he teases, finally putting his hand fully down your pants to rub you through your panties. You let out an eager mhm along with a fast nod, his fingers lightly grazing over your clit. You try to lift your hips up, but he takes his free hand to hold your hips down. “Gonna take my time with you, baby”

Moaning at his words, you moan again when his fingers finally slip past your panties and run through your slit. Collecting your arousal on his fingers, and he lets out a soft chuckle. “You’re so wet,”

“Stop teasing, ton. Need you” you swirl your hips around his fingers, trying to get him to use them. He might be putty in your hands outside the bedroom, but it was the complete opposite right now. He likes seeing you like this. Weak under him, begging for some type of release. He finally obliges, his thumb circling your clit softly while he slips two fingers into you. You moan, the ache in your core slowly subsiding.

He sits up so he can see your reactions fully. Your eyes were fluttering shut, mouth open slightly from the pleasure he was giving you. He moved his fingers a bit faster, and adding a bit more pressure onto your clit which made you moan. Your hand that was on his wrist gripped him tightly. He was making you feel so good, and he looked so good while doing it. With your half open eyes, you could see him focused on your cunt. His eyes were glossed over, looking from his hand that was in your pants, your face, your tits, then back to his hand.

He could honestly cum in his pants from the sight. Your breathing was labored and you were clenching on his fingers tighter, and he could tell that you were getting close. You usually last longer, but he made you feel so good it was overwhelming. And with how hot he was, it was hard for you to hold out.

“Cum for me, y/n. Make a mess on my fingers” His words were so vulgar, but his voice was so soft. With a few more harsh circles to your clit, your back was arched off the bed while your orgasm hit you. Nails digging into antons wrist while he continued thrusting his fingers in you to help you ride out your orgasm. Other hand was in the sheets, grabbing onto whatever your fingers could pick up.

When your breathing goes back to normal, anton pulls his fingers out of you and out of your pants, taking them into his mouth. It was so messy, and you moan watching him taste you on his fingers. He hums, pulling his fingers out of his mouth with a pop before running his hands down your thighs.

“You okay?” for a quick minute the soft boyfriend you knew was back, checking to make sure you were okay and if you wanted to continue. You give him a weak nod, eyes struggling to stay open. Your hands are pulling at the hem of his pants now, and he’s stepping off the bed to rid himself of the last of his clothing.

Through your half hazy gaze, you watch him taking off his pants along with his boxers. Your eyes nearly fall out of their sockets when you see his cock spring out of his pants. Holy shit, he was big. You knew he would be because he was just so big everywhere else, but it still took you by surprise. He gets back on the bed, settling between your legs once again.

“How do you want me?” you ask him sweetly, and he bites his lip at the question. He hadn’t thought about it, and now he was thinking of all the possibilities of how he could fuck you right now. He placed his hands on your legs, lifting them so they could wrap around his waist.

“Just stay like this,” he leans down so he's a bit closer to your face, but not close enough for you to kiss him. His lips were slightly parted and his breathing was heavy, and you wanted to kiss him so badly. He almost seems nervous. Which would be insane with the way he made you cum just a few minutes ago. You grab him by the back of his neck to pull him to your lips, and you can feel the way he softens in your hold.

Your other hand snakes its way between the two of you, grabbing onto his cock softly. He tenses up again, a choked moan comes out before he can process the noises coming out of him. You stroke him slowly while he struggles to kiss you back, and you bite his lip as you pull away.

“Need you now, toni” you whisper on his lips, and you look into his eyes before he’s sitting up once again. He groans while he pumps himself a few more times, and then he’s pressing his tip into you.

The both of you let out a moan while he’s pushing himself into you, and you bring both arms up to wrap around his forearms. It takes a minute before he's fully sheathed into you, and when he is you feel so full.

“let me know if it's too much, okay?” His hands grip your waist, and all you nod in response.

“Dont worry. I can take it.” you say confidently and he gives you a sly look before he pulls out almost completely, and then thrusts back in with a slow but deep thrust. He hisses, your pussy clenching around him so tightly. One of his hands moves from your waist up your chest, stopping at your breasts to play with one of your nipples while he finds his rhythm inside of you. The stimulation in both areas makes you cry out, your grip on antons arm getting impossibly tighter.

He was still processing the fact that you were under him. It was an unreal situation. Never did he think he’d be able to get the girl he’s always wanted. never did he think he would be in her room. Never did he think he would be having sex with her.

His pace picks up, your body jerking forward with each thrust. You could barely keep your eyes open, but the view in front of you was too good to miss. The way the muscles in his arms flexed when he drove his hips into yours, and you could see how his stomach contracted with each thrust. His eyes were focused on where the two of you connected while you stared at him, and your moans got increasingly louder with every touch and with every thrust.

You bring a hand down to your clit, drawing circles on the sensitive area while he fucked you. He was moaning louder now, soft whimpers leaving him every time you clenched around him.

“You’re so tight, baby” he’s leaning over you now, moving your hand from your clit and pinning it to your side. He swiftly takes his other hand and places his own fingers on your clit, and you nearly scream, the amount of pressure and speed he adds has your eyes rolling back.

He couldn’t get enough of you. If he put his hands somewhere, it would only be for a few seconds before he was moving them to a different part of your body. The hand he used to pin you down was now grabbing onto your thigh, hiking your leg up so he could put it over his shoulder.

The new angle had his cock hitting a spot deep inside you that you didn’t know existed, and you bite your lip to stop another scream from coming out. His other hand was still in between your bodies, rubbing your clit with a swiftness. Your hand goes to his chest, subconsciously pushing him from the stimulation.

“thought you could take it, baby. need me to slow down?” He teases, and his thrusts falter just enough for you to feel it and beg for more. Fingers still on your clit, pushing hard on the bud but not moving them. You could barely think of words to say, but the loss of stimulation was helping you gain consciousness.

“n-no! feelsso good… gna cum” tears swelling up in your eyes, you slur your words trying to tell him that he could keep going. you were so close, and you didn't want his teasing to rip the feeling of your orgasm bubbling going away, so you hoped he would continue the pace and send you over the edge soon.

pushing you into the mattress, he thrusts hard and the tears that glossed over your eyes were now falling down, the pleasure was so overwhelming. with the way he was pressing into you, the way he looked into your eyes with each thrust and you struggled to keep them open, the way his fingers expertly handled your clit while his lips hovered over yours, and the sweet words on how good you felt while you could only whine and babble incoherent words, you were so close to hitting your peak.

“cum for me baby, i got you” and with that your body almost caves in on itself, your orgasm hitting you like a truck. your legs were shaking and your back would have arched completely off the bed if it weren't for anton above you, still fucking you sensless to help you ride it out. a choked sob leaves your lips, too breathless to let out any moans. it quickly became overstimulating, pushing at whatever body parts your hands could reach. He wasn’t letting up though, chasing his own high now and was lost in the feeling of your pussy squeezing him deliciously.

“toni, s’too much! too much,” you whine, and the boy removes his fingers off your clit to lift himself up. he brings your leg down from his shoulder, and keeps it around his waist with your other leg. he’s still fucking you, and its still a lot but without the abuse to your clit you could tolerate the feeling of his cock fucking into you some more until he cums. His eyes were shut now leaning back down to bury his face into your neck. your hands wrap around him, running your fingers through his hair and leaving gentle tugs which elicit loud moans out of him

“tell me where to cum, baby. where do you want it?” his voice is rushed, and you know you’d have to think fast because he was a ticking time bomb.

“wherever you want toni,” your hands leave his hair so you could move him from your neck and cup his face, giving him a loving look before pulling him into a heated kiss, teeth clashing and lip biting. you slip your tongue into his mouth, swirling around with his while you two moan into each other. with a few sharp thrusts, he’s cumming inside of you. his hips still for a moment, your pussy milking his cock of every last drop of cum. he lets out a weak whimper, body feeling weak as he fucks his cum into you.

you moan, body feeling warm from his body heat along with the fullness of his cock and his cum inside of you. the both of you let out small groans when he’s pulling out, his body still on top of yours. he gives you a soft kiss to your forehead, and you give him a weak smile.

“did so well for me baby. was it okay?” his soft persona was back in full effect now, sitting up so he could help you get cleaned up.

“more than okay, anton”

he gives you a quick kiss before he’s hopping off the bed and finding his clothes on the floor. he puts his boxers on and his pants, then leaves your room quietly to go to the kitchen. When he turns the corner, he’s met with sky. she has headphones in so she doesn't notice him at first, but once she feels his presence she nearly jumps. then her startled face turns into disgust.

“you two are fucking nasty. when i told you to fix things between you two, i didn't mean come here and break the sound barrier.” she rolls her eyes, going back to fixing herself a snack.

“sorry,” an awkward chuckle leaves anton, and he quickly grabs a water out of the refrigerator and leaves the kitchen, slightly embarrassed by the confrontation. he makes his way back down the hall to go to your bathroom, and he rinses his face with cold water, still warm from your little activity just a few minutes ago. he runs one of your washcloths under warm water, and then he’s back in your room to clean you up. sitting down in front of you, he wipes you up in the places you were most sweaty, and then wiping your thighs and carefully wiping up the cum that was dripping out of you. you were still sensitive, wincing at the contact. he helps you sit up, and you run a hand through his hair. you reach over the edge of the bed to grab your hoodie off the floor, slipping it back on. suddenly feeling a little too bare in front of anton since he at least had on a pair of pants.

You admire the boy in front of you. He was the same, but different to you now. a sweet, beautiful boy, who was now all yours. a sweet boy who just fucked you to oblivion. a beautiful boy, who could put up with your attitude. who was weak for you, who would do anything for you. it makes you smile, the most perfect boy liked you and only you. and he was there your whole life, you two just had to figure it out on your own.

“i ran into sky in the kitchen,” his voice was low as he handed you the water he brought, and your eyes widened in shock that your friend was home. you didn’t think she would be home by this time, usually staying out until nighttime at the library before she came home.

“oh god, i didn't know she would be home this early. we’re never going to hear the end of this.” you whine, head in your hands. anton laughs, finding your reaction adorable. as embarrassing as it was to have someone hear you from the outside of your bedroom, he didn't have that much shame. the fact that you were loud enough to disturb the peace in the other room filled him with pride.

“she’ll be okay. this won't be the last time she hears anything come out of this room anyways” he gives you a cheeky grin, and you scoff before slapping his shoulder. who would have thought he would be so dirty?

“don't say that!! we’re gonna have to keep quiet if she’s home,”

“we’ll see about that. you talk a big game but you crumbled the second i put it in” he’s still grinning at you, saying it with such pride and you slap his arm again, face heating up at his words. now you have two things that you’ll never be able to live down.

“you’re sick, lee anton” you whine, and he just laughs before pulling you into a bear hug and laying the two of you onto the pillows. you two get comfortable fast, your back resting against his chest while his arms rest over your body after he pulls the covers over you two

“you like it though” he nuzzles into your neck, spooning you and rubbing soft circles on your stomach under your hoodie.

“maybe just a little”

while spending the rest of the night cuddling, you think that both of your moms were right about setting you two up. you’re suddenly grateful about that surprise ‘blind’ date, and that your mom was right about giving him a chance. laying with him just felt right. and you hope that you can lay with him forever.

A/N: let me know what you guys think !! i kind of half assed the editing, so i apologize if there's any errors + i know the capitalization is a little wacky throughout the fic. i hope you guys enjoyed this fic as much as i enjoyed writing it :)

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#anton riize #riize smut #riize x reader #anton imagines #anton smut #anton x reader #riize anton #riize imagines #riize fanfic #riize fluff #lee anton #anton fluff #lee anton x reader #lee anton smut #lee anton fluff #lee anton imagines #toniiswrld #riize

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primofate · 2 years

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Hot/Cute things they do [Genshin Impact Male Characters] Headcanons

Characters: Aether, Albedo, Alahaitham, Ayato, Bennett, Chongyun, Dainsleif, Diluc, Gorou, Heizou, Itto, Kaeya, Kazuha, Razor, Scaramouche, Tartaglia, Thoma, Tighnari, Venti, Xiao, Xingqiu, Zhongli, gn!reader

Note: Long time no post!! I got some of my energy back but phew it’s such a struggle with all the hormones haha. I get energy on and off, it’s literally like a switch sometimes. One second I feel like doing something and the next it’s like all I wanna do is stay in bed.

Warnings: a bit of crack elements in some, Not proofread, if there’s any pronoun slips please tell me :) suggestive elements in some, added our new Sumeru friends that I’m comfortable writing for into the long list of lovable male characters. I’m loving Sumeru so far, specially the music.

Personal Favourites: Diluc, Alhaitham, Tighnari

Aether

Putting his hand out for you to hold. All the time.

His hand is always there for you no matter where you go.

Just a stroll? He offers it to you with a pleasant smile. “Let’s go,”

When there’s a big step or just a big gap between stones or steps while the two of you are out adventuring, he’ll have it stretched out towards you.

“Hold my hand, I don’t want you to fall,”

Sometimes will subconsciously and automatically grab your hand when he thinks you need it.

“Watch out for that puddle,”

Even in quiet moments when the two of you are sat around the campfire, he loves to have his hand atop yours, swirling patterns atop it, making circles, tracing your knuckles.

It’s a kind of reassurance for him, and you always feel like you can rely on him and have him to hold on to.

When he’s talking to someone in town, or wherever the two of you may be and he realizes that he doesn’t have your hand in his, his hand will linger, stretching out even while he’s talking, hovering towards your general direction until you notice and take hold of it.

It might seem clingy, but really he just likes feeling how perfectly the two of you fit together.

Albedo

Being a good brother

Despite his job, he’s actually good with kids. We all know it’s because he’s had experience with taking care of Klee from time to time.

It hits you harder when you watch from afar, how he kneels down to get to Klee’s eye level, takes out a hanky and wipes off some soot from the little girl’s cheek. “If you’re not careful you’ll get your whole dress and Dodoco dirty, Klee. Would you want that?”

He has a way to convince the little girl without being harsh nor threatening, just stating facts as he always does and looks out for her diligently.

When the little girl is tired and all rubby-eyes after a long day of running around Albedo picks her up easily in his arms and walks back to Mondstadt with the little bundle of red comfortably resting on his shoulder. “Did you have fun today, Klee?” he would whisper.

When Klee is upset, he knows just what to say to her. “I understand you’re upset, Klee. That’s alright. Would you like to visit your favourite store later, after you’ve calmed down?”

And finally when little Klee wonders out loud where you are, Albedo flashes the small girl a small secret smile. “Y/N? They’ll be here soon. They might even have a treat for you,”

It occurs to you that the scene is very domestic. Like having your own child with Albedo.

Alhaitham

Wiping his sweat off with his shirt after a workout/training

Alhaitham is an excellent fighter, it’s the result of regular training, sparring and workouts.

Where he spars is up to his mood. The adventurer’s guild training grounds or out in the forest, either way he gives it his 100% as if he’s really face to face with an enemy.

By the end of it he’s sweaty and slightly panting, his sword stuck on the ground and his hand balancing on the hilt.

You sometimes walk in when he’s in the middle of it and his fluid movements are quite mesmerizing, not to mention his tight fit outfit gives you a clear view of how his arms flex.

Sometimes you walk in when he’s just done, when he pulls his shirt up, giving you a view of his chiseled muscles as he wipes the sweat on his forehead and face.

You’re there to hand him some water and he has no idea at all of the show he’s giving. He smiles the slightest bit, hand grabbing the bottle of water “Thank you, love,”

He refrains from kissing you because he knows he’s sweaty, but would you mind at all really?

Even the way he opens the bottle of water, tips his head back, droplets of sweat beading his forehead glistening, and downs it in one go is something to marvel at.

Ayato

Taking his coat off to give it to you

Under the white elegant coat he wears is a pale blue yukata that matches the colour of his hair.

It first happened while the two of you were enjoying the porch of the Kamisato Estate. There’s an elegant tea set between the two of you, when a strong breeze brushes past.

It’s nothing to him, he’s used to the elements, but at the corner of his eye he sees you bristle a little. He moves the tea set over and sits next to you, sliding his coat off and placing it around your shoulders instead.

You were a little startled, but when you look up at him he doesn’t say anything but wears a handsome smile on his face.

He sits next to you from then on and its become a habit of his.

It’s almost automatic now. There was once where he was out on business in winter and a strong wind grazes by, he’s talking to one of the commissioners and he takes his coat off, turning towards you to warm you up, only to realize that you weren’t with him today.

He recovers quite quickly, a split second of surprise and he manages to chuckle at himself at the silly gesture, plays it off by draping his coat on his arm and continuing with his business.

He comes home that night with his coat still off, and knows that when he comes back you’ll probably only be in a yukata (He’s figured out that you sometimes dress less in winter, just to get his coat, but he doesn’t say anything about it)

“There you are, dove. It’s cold today, you should consider wearing more on nights like these,” while wrapping his coat around your shoulders.

but you never do and he doesn’t really complain. His coat smells just like him. In truth he likes seeing you in it too.

Bennett

When he shows his reliable side + his signature thumbs up with bright smile

Despite his bad luck following him around he has his victorious moments.

It’s those rare moments of his confidence boosting that makes you look at him all starry eyed and in awe.

“I got your back Y/N!” The first time he says it is when you fail to dodge an incoming attack from a mitachurl, but Bennett slides in just in time with his pyro flamed sword, burst of flames causing the mitachurl to recoil.

You could only see his back at that moment, and you don’t ever remember seeing him as so strong and reliable.

He turns back to you with a flash of bright smile and a thumbs up, as if he hadn’t done anything special at all and urges the two of you to keep adventuring. “That’s taken care of, let’s keep going!”

Chongyun

kicks ass with his claymore but is still shy about it

Is actually a good fighter, but always downplays himself saying that there’s much he needs to learn and train for before becoming good enough.

But the way he carries his claymore and slays with it, you know that he already packs a punch and is just too modest.

He’s also very unassuming, he looks like he’s harmless but the first time you see him handle his weapon, burst of cryo claymores impaled into the ground and leaving the ground frozen...and he does it so effortlessly too, you were a little surprised.

He brushes it off too easily, doesn’t think he did anything noteworthy so when you compliment him on his fighting skills there’s a tint of red on his cheeks. “Huh? Oh, that? I-It’s nothing... I’ve been practicing it for a long time...”

but he fights off monsters effortlessly, sometimes you don’t even need to lift a finger, or maybe that’s just his way of protecting you and keeping you safe?

Dainsleif

Picks your hand up and places it on his cheek + kissing your hand with intense eye contact

When he meets up with you his standard greeting is to place a kiss at the back of your hand, all the while keeping eye contact with you. His gaze is almost stern, but it’s also melting and delves deep into your soul. He doesn’t say anything to greet you, aside from kissing your hand, but he stays close to your side throughout the day you spend together.

By the end of it, when the moon is high up in the sky and the two of you have to part ways, it always happens that you’re in a rather secluded and more private part of the forest or atop a hill where no one can see the two of you.

Perhaps he makes it like that so he can be a little selfish and have a bit more of you, though he only wishes for a quick kiss and then, as always, he takes your hand, lays it on his cheek, sighs and closes his eyes. As if he doesn’t want to be apart and it breaks him to see you go.

“...Your warmth...brings me a different kind of peace. One that I cannot find elsewhere...”

and then, just like his hello, he kisses the back of your hand goodbye, leveling his gaze on you, capturing your eyes while you get lost in his “Until next time, Y/N,”

Diluc

Rolling his sleeves up and tying his hair

It’s not like you’ve never seen his arms before, he goes to sleep in a shirt, so his arms are exposed to you all night long.

But there’s something different about it as he gets ready early in the morning. Dressed in his usual attire but with his sleeves pushed up to his elbows because it’s easier to lift his arms up to tie his hair that way.

Because both his hands are occupied trying to gather up his long red hair he keeps the hair band in his mouth. The subtle movements of his arm and muscles as he smooths out, gathers his hair, bunches it up doesn’t escape your eyes.

Finally he takes the hair band from his mouth and wounds it around his hair. Most days he wears it in its usual state, but its a treat for your eyes when he decides to put it up into a ponytail, there’s something just extra handsome about it.

Then, he pulls his sleeve down and is ready to go but not before giving you a kiss on the forehead. “I’ll be back soon, Y/N.”

You’d never get tired of his morning routine, and he doesn’t even realize that you watch him do his before starting yours.

Gorou

Carrying/Lifting heavy things

He’s smaller in stature but you’re always reminded that he’s a capable general when he carries boxes and crates without any trouble.

But it’s a lot nicer when he carries seemingly heavy things for you, or at least something that he sees as “too heavy” he knows you can handle it but for some reason he always insists to carry “heavy” things for you.

“Do you need help with that? I’ll take it off your hands,” when you’ve just gotten done shopping for vegetables and fruits or any type of grocery.

When heavy lifting is involved he doesn’t let you do it, or at least gives you the easy things to do. “I can get this, you can have that one over there,” points at a small box while he swiftly takes care of the bulkier heavier ones.

When you tell him you’re really thankful for his help and when you compliment him on being strong he gets a little flustered. “Oh, ahaha, you think so? It’s no big deal, we do this all the time in camp,”

Heizou

The little smirk he does

The cunning detective is sharp, witty and has a way with words. He knows how to wind people up, including you. He’s a bit of a flirt but sometimes he doesn’t even do it on purpose and it still riles you up.

One of the ways he does this is when he assertively turns your head towards him with his hand. He brushes the side of your mouth with his thumb and gives you that playful smirk. “Bit of a messy eater, aren’t we?”

Or when he confidently states that he can take care of any mystery, crossing his arms and shooting a smug-ish smirk “There’s no such thing as a mystery to me,”

But mostly when he snakes an arm around your waist while walking through town with you. This one, he does on purpose. The first time he did it, he says “Just don’t want you getting lost lovely,” until it became a habit and he doesn’t need an excuse anymore, just a grin and a quick squeeze to your waist.

Itto

Flexing his muscles

Itto never does this on purpose. He dubs himself as a great fighter but never really takes into account the fact that he’s bulky and is openly showing his toned midriff.

It was hard to take your eyes off his “outfit” the first time you started hanging out with him.

He’s rather silly, and so whenever he’s hyped up he gets into victory poses that twists his pecs just the right ways. Example, when he wins any onikabuto fight, he pumps his hand up a certain way and it draws your eyes towards him.

Another thing he subconsciously does is to puff his chest out. He’s constantly boasting about something, maybe winning a ramen contest, or winning snacks from kids. “Pfft yeah! They were no match for me!” He tells the story proudly, but so does his chest and muscles.

When he shows of his strength, he’s really only showing off his strength, not his muscles. So whenever he offers you a piggy back ride--basically a free pass for you to wrap your arms around his strong shoulders and to feel his chiseled back--he does it enthusiastically. “Hey Y/N! Betcha I can get you to Chinjuu Forest in less than a minute! Come on, hop on!”

It’s just fun for him, but he’s also happy he can basically lug you around anywhere.

Kaeya

Whispering in your ear

Does it matter what he’s saying? Sometimes yes, sometimes no.

But his husky greeting of “Hello there snowflake,” versus his tempting and commanding whisper of “Give me a kiss,” both send shivers down your spine.

He does it quite often, he knows what effect it has on you and probably does it to tease you.

From the random strolls around Mondstadt, his hand around you and resting on your hip, him dipping in a little closer to say “You look wonderful today,” breath hot at the shell of your ear.

All the way to the tavern nights where he sits next to you and he’s nearly glued to your side, tempting you with a tickle of his voice in your ear, hand on one of your knees “Spend the night with me?”

And finally even as you cuddle in bed into the night, his arms around your back and you tethered in his arms, buried in his chest. He brushes strands of hair away from your ear to lean in and whisper “Stay with me forever Y/N,”

Kazuha

“Secretly” looking at you with a gentle gaze

He likes to think he’s discreet about it but every one of Beidou’s crew has caught him looking at you all dreamy eyed.

You’ve caught him a few times too, and at first you thought he was just spacing out, but then you figured out--and you were somewhat embarrassed as well--that he was just looking at you in awe.

It somewhat hits differently when you realize that someone is looking at you that way. Like you can’t believe the adoration in his eyes is for you, as if a treasure that was hidden away for centuries.

“Hm?” he said when you first caught him spacing out on you. “Oh, just...admiring the delightful view,” You thought he really was talking about the view at first.

But then he started to do it more often, and you would catch him not hiding it at all. You’d turn to him to ask him something, and he would have his eyes relaxed, glazed over with love. His fingers would graze your cheek gently and he would sigh softly with a smile.

You’d ask him what’s wrong and he would say “Nothing’s wrong at all. Everything’s absolutely perfect, my love,”

He’d end up kissing you softly on the lips, before snapping out of it and letting you ask him about your original query.

Razor

Wraps your arms around him

Because he communicates more with his actions than words, if he wants something but doesn’t quite know how to say it he usually just acts on it.

Tugging your sleeve when he wants something, walking in front of you when he senses danger, wraps himself around you when he’s protective...Those are some of the things he does but doesn’t say much about. You had just picked up on those habits of his over the years.

Recently he had become more assertive, and he now stands face to face with you and takes both of your arms just to wrap it around himself. He used to blush over it, now it’s just a signal that he wants to be hugged.

A similar thing would be him resting his head on your shoulder and grabbing your hand to lay it atop his head. He loves it when you pat his head or comb your hands through his hair.

Scaramouche

Running his fingers through his hair when annoyed

The signature scowl and snarl is something that usually scares off people but to you who knows him more than just surface level, you strangely have grown accustomed to it.

His anger is rarely directed at you anyway. Most times it’s directed at something that’s happened to you.

“What happened to your knee? What do you mean you tripped and fell? Who was escorting you?!” and you being the neutral person you are, don’t really want anyone to get in trouble so you refuse to answer, just telling him it was an accident.

And it’s times like these where he does that thing where he cards through his hair with his hand in frustration, tsking and glaring at you while he does it. “I swear if it happens again...”

Sometimes he does it REALLY out of anger, but not towards you. Rather his subordinates get the brunt of it.

“Some of you are beyond stupid,” In extreme exasperation, you watch as he tips his head back a little and presses his fingers on his head, slowly pushing his fingers through his hair as if giving himself a head massage, all the while with an annoyed expression on his face.

Then he explodes with fury on his subordinate. After he’s calmed down, he’ll turn to you and notice the faintest of smiles on your face. “...What’s so funny?” he’d think that his outburst would have scared you instead.

Tartaglia

Pulling his gloves on/off with his teeth

You have no idea why he does it. Probably something that he got used to, but sometimes he does it cause he says it’s just easier that way, like when his hands are wet, apparently.

You’ve seen him do it a couple of times, the first time was when he got drenched in the rain and he was taking his gloves off. He comes strolling into the house still dripping wet and so he stayed by the front door and starts discarding his wet clothes, starting from his gloves.

He lifts his hand up to his mouth, his teeth hook onto the tip of his finger, dragging the black leather off as his hand pull away.

Sometimes when he’s busy putting ON his gloves with both hands he keeps the other glove in between his teeth. You warn him it’s unhygienic but you still like watching him do that though.

Something about the way he does it draws your attention to his long fingers and the fact that he can even utilize his mouth.

It makes the feel of his bare hands on your cheeks all the more special and warm. “I’m home Y/N,” It’s a totally different feeling from his gloved hands.

Thoma

Leans in towards you when you speak

Because he wants to catch every single word that you say, because your words are important to him.

He innocently leans forward, even bending a little if he needs to, catching your back with his hand, specially if its crowded and the environment is too loud.

“Sure, we can do that,” he’ll say when he hears your suggestion.

He keeps close to you through the crowd, all the while almost wrapping an arm around your shoulder just to keep the conversation the two of you have going.

You can practically smell his scent from how close he is.

Sometimes even when it’s quiet, he doesn’t catch what you say because you’ve said it too softly, or he’s just preoccupied in his own mind. “Sorry love, say that again?”

He’ll turn towards you and his entire body is listening to you, head tilted towards your direction the slightest bit. Then he chuckles when he hears your message, but only moves forward the tiniest bit more to press his lips on your forehead. “I love you too, Y/N,”

Tighnari

Beckoning and calling you over

Exploring the forest is his calling, and documenting every little things takes time. Perhaps that’s why he loves having you around, because you’re a great help to his research, but in general, he finds that he just likes your presence, research or not.

“Y/N, over here,” Tighnari has always had a leader streak in him. He knows what he wants, what he needs to do and knows what to say. He commands others without hesitation and though he sometimes takes that tone towards you, he also respects your opinions.

He calls you over with an upward wave of his hand, sometimes only with a flick of his fingers. He’ll point something out to you and discuss with you about it.

“Y/N, look at this,” your name on his lips is like a constant. A fixed thing that’ll never disappear. It’s the first thing he says when he finds something interesting. He tilts his head over to the “thing” while looking at you, another way that he calls you over.

In the privacy of his and your quarters, as he finishes studying and turns off his desk light, he opens his arms and merely says your name, “Y/N,” he doesn’t have to ask you to come, your name is enough for you to move towards him and he gathers you into a hug. “Let’s go to sleep,” he’ll suggest, and you’ll agree.

Sometimes, even in his sleep, and you happen to wake up. You’ll see his ear twitch at your slight movement, and he’ll mumble your name, his arm subconsciously tightening around your waist. “Don’t go anywhere without me, Y/N,”

Venti

Playing with your hair

He likes it when you play with his hair, so he got the idea from you and started doing it to yours as well.

If you have long hair, he has the habit of curling a strand of it around his finger and watching it furl and unfurl. It looks boring, but he can do that for hours.

He also likes to take strands of it and kisses it while looking at you, he’s trying to get a reaction from you.

If you have short hair he merely likes to run his hand through it, specially when you’re in a hug, his hand crawls up and presses into your scalp oh so comfortingly. “Like that, my dandelion?”

He gets very pleased with himself when he feels you melt into his arms when he gives you that semi-scalp massage.

When he’s feeling mischievous he likes to give your hair a slight tug, just to get your attention, specially if you’re busy with something else or someone else.

It’s his ‘pay attention to me’ sign.

Xiao

Alertness - Always has an arm ready to shoot out in front of you

Rather than alert you always thought that he was just too nervous and jittery for his own good. He’s always ready to jump at anyone who looks like a threat to him and you.

It has, of course, saved you a couple of times but more often than not he’s actually just being overprotective. You let him do it if he’s comfortable with it but you remind him to ease up from time to time, specially if you’re just strolling along Liyue Harbor.

There are countless of times where he’s wedged himself in between you and someone he deemed as a threat, more often than not the “threat” was not really a threat at all, but during the times when they were he gets extremely irked. “Don’t come any closer,” and he’ll put a hand up to block you away from them.

One time there was also an incident wherein the two of you were walking back to Wangshu Inn and he sensed something in the air. He stops you, stands in front of you while keeping you as close as possible just as an arrow flies past the two of you. He was livid.

The other times were instances wherein you nearly trip, but since he’s always paying attention you never really fall. He catches you just in time, but never tells you off for being clumsy. It’s like he’s accepted it as his job already.

“...I suppose keeping you out of harm’s way isn’t a task...It’s merely something I’d like to do,”

Xingqiu

Easily laying on your lap and being comfortable

Once upon a time the two of you would read books an arm’s length away from each other. It’s one of those moments where the two of you hang out yet do different things. It’s the presence of the other that matters.

When the two of you became closer you would notice that you’re now shoulder to shoulder and you don’t know when exactly it started but he had moved on to settling his head on your lap while reading.

He reads while resting on your lap and thinks nothing of it, but he does consider it an extreme privilege and considers it very comfortable, more comfortable than any pillow, he said.

Then he started to doze off on your lap. You caught signs of it when his book started to droop and as the minutes passed he had somehow placed the book on his stomach and was now sleeping on your lap instead.

Now he just uses you as a pillow when he wants a nap, and doesn’t even ask.

Zhongli

Placing his hand on your lower back (I’ve definitely written about this before)

Not one to really show off public affection, but he still likes the occasional touch here and there.

He’s the type to lead you away or lead you to something by placing his hand on the small of your back. It’s not hesitant nor uncertain, his hand is firmly placed there and he knows exactly where he’s guiding or taking you.

It’s how people in Liyue know that the two of you have a close relationship. At first they weren’t sure, because the two of you don’t really talk about it, but the moment he places his hand on your lower back, it lights a bulb in the townspeople’s minds.

Sometimes they’ll catch him doing that, and also looking down at you as the two of you converse, there’s a different light in his eyes as he talks to you while leading you away. Like he really enjoys your company and your thoughts.

Without words his hand says a lot of different things. “Let’s head home then, darling,” “I’m right here with you, dear,” “Come with me, love,”

The subtlety of it is sweet, but it’s also protective in certain situations, such as when a merchant is overexcited in selling you something and borderline pushy. Zhongli will be next to you, hand on your back and smiling pleasantly at the merchant.

“They’re not quite interested in your wares, xiansheng (mister). We’ll take our leave now,”

And you’ll silently thank him for helping you out.

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katsukikitten · 1 year

Text

Handing Katsuki father's day cards that are for his own dad or yours and he needs to "read and sign it" but as he's reading it his brow starts to furrows.

"Sweetheart, ya got the wrong cards." He's reading it for the third time now.

"I got the right ones." You're trying not to giggle before he's rolling his eyes and reading the card aloud.

"You're not just an amazing father," he flips it open, "You're going to be an amazing grandfather too."

"Yea baby that's the right card." You hum, stepping into the kitchen to get the final card and present.

"Baby, it isn't. We don't have kids. Unless ya mean our cats but then they've been grandparents." He tosses the card down, rising to help you find the backups he's assuming you're looking for. This wasn't the first year you'd accidently gotten the wrong card or one that was just slightly off, he thinks nothing of the message.

Barely had any caffeine as the two of you rose early to get ready to host his parents and yours.

"Katsuki, it is the right card." You say, pressing another card into his hands, no envelope or anything. Just thick white card stock with black letters and an image of white new balance shoes.

"It's almost time for these bad boys." He scoffs, looking at what the world has deemed the official dad shoe, he looks up to see a box in your hands, "Sweetheart, what the fuck? I hate these ugly ass shoes. Ya know that."

He's got this smile to his face the one where he thinks you're being too playful and silly, every now and again you two get each other gag gifts. You're surprised he hadn't caught on yet especially since you always joked that the second you knew, you'd be getting him "those ugly ass dad shoes."

"I know." You both share a laugh, you pressing the shoe box into hands, "Just open it. They'll be fun to wear today, goes with the theme."

"What's the fuckin theme? Dads?" He opens the box and sees the shoes but something is taped to the top of the box. A grainy picture in black and white, a blob in the circle and when he lets his eyes focus as best they can without his glasses perched on his nose, he thinks he sees a very specific shape.

He rips it from the box, bringing the film closer and yes he can see a nose and his face morphs into complete surprise. You giggle as you watch him figure it out, which you swore you wouldn't be able to get this far without him figuring out why you'd been feeling so sick lately.

"No fuckin way." It's low and for a split second you think he isn't excited, then he locks eyes with you and he gives you that look. The one where he's smiling but his brows furrow up and his eyes aglow with unshed tears like you are his world, like you're giving him the world, and he's putting the shoes down to gently pick you up and twirl you around.

"A baby. We're having a fucking baby." He's pressing kisses to your cheeks when he sets you on your feet, if you thought you were spoiled before you'd be rotten by the time this pregnancy was done.

"A baby." You repeat back to him, your own excited tears clinging to your lashes, ones Katsuki gently kisses away.

"How long?"

"Three months. It was really hard to keep a secret but I really wanted to do that shoe thing I teased you about. I've got the receipt so we can return them I'll-"

"Nah I've got the perfect idea for 'em."

An hour later after a shared shower and rapid fire questions, Bakugou is coming down the stairs, he's got some ugly ass jean jorts you gifted him as a gag for his birthday two years ago before giving him his real gift and one of his dad's old white tees he tucked into the waist band of the shorts and of course his new white new balance shoes.

"You look ridiculous." You giggle in your sundress, somehow he made the outfit a little hot. You were sure Bakugou could make anything look hot and here was living proof.

"Better get used to it Sweetheart, this is how I'm gonna look when I put another one in ya." He puffs his chest out, smoothing his big palms over his shirt as you roll your eyes.

"I've made a monster." The door bell rings, when you go to rise, Katsuki gently presses you back into the couch by your shoulder as he gets the door for his parents. He opens the door with a sense of pride that comes with being the cocky pro hero, looking much larger than life.

His mother is unphased.

"Oi, I brought that stuff you- Why are you dressed like a fuckin dad from the 90s?" Mitsuki makes a face before she processes what he's wearing, "Oh my fucking GOD OH MY FUCKING GOD MASARU! WE'RE GONNA BE GRANDPARENTS. YER GONNA BE A GRANDPA! RIGHT RIGHT?"

She pushes past her son, a quick squeeze to his forearm before she's honing in on the daughter in law she already adored and now even more.

Masaru quirks his brow and Katsuki nods.

"I'm so happy for you son." He hugs Katsuki the way men do, a quick tight squeeze before a clap on the back, Masaru tries not to let the tears slip past his eyes as Katsuki's life plays on fast forward in Masaru's mind. He remembers how Mitsuki told him they were expecting, remembers holding him for the first time and thought his whole world view shattered and changed. Remembers his first words and steps. Remembers his first mishap with his quirk and how Katsuki had blown the coffee table sky high. He remembers him growing taller and taller, going to UA, figuring out how to be a better person as he grew in size. How Katsuki called him and his ma in the middle of the night the first time he hit the top ten rankings. And again when he was number one.

How he took his dad out to lunch, wiping his palms on his pants like he did when he was nervous to ask his dad how he asked Mitsuki to marry him. He smiles, tears slip past anyway as he stares at his broad shouldered son adding one final comment that makes Katsuki's throat close up in the best way.

"I can't wait to watch them grow up to be as great as their parents and more."

#katsuki fluff #bakugou fluff #kitten writes bakugou 🖤🐈‍⬛ 🖋️#father bakugou #fathers day bakugou 🖤🐈‍⬛#kitten soft hours #bakugou soft hours #just a silly thought

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headkiss · 6 months

Text

maybe this christmas time

pairing: steve harrington x sunshine!reader

summary: working as an elf during the holidays (which he isn’t a fan of) is not how steve would choose to spend his time, neither is doing a bucket list of your creation. you end up changing his mind.

word count: 9.5k

warnings: use of she/her pronouns for r, some grumpy steve (he’s still a softie underneath it, i can’t help it!), some family issues (a phone call from steve’s mom), a rude customer, christmas activities/themes, fluff, and a first kiss!

a/n: merry christmas and happy holidays from me to you!!! i hope u guys enjoy this one, i had a lot of fun writing it!! big big thank you to @bcyhoods for sending the request that inspired me to write this fic and to @bruisedboys who helped me out when i was unsure about things <333 ily guys i hope u all have the happiest of holidays!

⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆

Starcourt Mall is decorated to the brim. Fake snow and garlands, giant ornaments hanging from the ceiling, a Christmas tree that stays lit all day long.

And, in the middle of it all, Santa’s Workshop.

That’s where you are, where you’ve been for a couple of Decembers now. Every other month of the year, you work at the movie theater, scooping popcorn and scanning tickets. But, for December, you trade in your cinema t-shirt for an elf outfit, striped tights and all.

“It’s really not so bad once you get past the itching,” you tell Steve.

“Great,” he says, the sarcasm clear in his tone.

“Great,” you repeat, cheery enough for the both of you.

He wasn’t sure how it could get any worse than the sailor uniform. That is, until he saw what he had to wear for this gig.

It’s Steve Harrington’s first year at Santa’s Workshop, and you’ve been tasked with training him, though the job is mostly self-explanatory.

But unlike you, Steve didn’t volunteer for this.

“I can’t believe they picked me to do this,” he sighs. “Don’t even like elves.”

“Well they had to pick someone, Steve.” You shrug, “who knows, you might end up having fun!”

“Not likely.”

“At the very least, you’re getting paid, right?” You nudge him once with your elbow, “plus, if you’re extra nice, some moms give pretty good tips.”

You and Steve went to school together, but he never really spoke to you then. It was only after graduation that you had any sort of conversation with him. They mostly consisted of him bribing you with free ice cream to let Dustin and the gang into the movies for free.

That was after you caught him letting them into the back rooms to sneak in.

Now, Steve’s wearing a pair of slippers that jingle with every step just like yours, and in the only two shifts you’ve had together so far, you’ve spoken more than ever. Even if it’s mostly been instructions from you and an unenthusiastic comment in response from Steve.

“Do I really have to wear these fucking shoes?” He asks, following you out of the staff room.

“Yes. It’s part of the uniform.” You turn around to face him, walking backwards while he walks forwards. “Don’t worry, you’ll tune out the jingling soon enough.”

“I’ll hear these jingles in my nightmares.”

“At least you look cute!”

You spin back around, and Steve only rolls his eyes as he trudges on behind you.

Steve’s not quite sure how he feels about you, whether he finds you a little annoying or endearing. At the moment, with an elf hat squishing his hair, he’s leaning a little more towards the first.

He didn’t know you during school. Admittedly, he was an asshole for most of his time at Hawkins High, so that explains that. Even still, he doesn’t know much about you, only that you’re kind enough not to snitch on him for sneaking the kids into the movies and that you seem to seep sunshine all the fucking time.

And your sunshine seems to be dialed up during the holidays. Like you really believe in ‘holiday cheer.’

Steve knows, deep down and buried somewhere he’s not quite ready to face yet, that he’s mostly just jealous. Because if you like the holidays so much, if you’re smiling the way you do so often, you must have it pretty good at home.

To him, nothing else makes sense. Not when Christmas at the Harrington household has been absolute shit for years. First, it was the gifts he never wanted, things his parents didn’t care enough to know he didn’t like. Then, they dwindled until, eventually, Christmas did, too.

There’s a travel discount during the holidays, sweetie. We’re visiting dad’s boss’ cabin. Next year, we promise. Excuse, excuse, excuse.

So yeah, Steve’s never really understood the appeal. Walking behind you in a pair of jingling shoes and a scratchy outfit, he’s not sure he ever will.

You lead him towards the area where Santa’s Workshop has been set up, right by the fountain. There’s bright red carpet rolled out over the usual tiled floors, an area set up for the cue of families, and of course, a bench where some guy playing Santa will sit.

“Since we’re opening today I’ll show you the whole set-up routine.” You step over the rope with the sign that says ‘Gone to feed the reindeer!’ with Steve in tow. “Easy peasy.”

Steve steps over the rope behind you, shaking his head at the sound his shoes make when he lands. He chooses to listen to your voice instead.

“First, we count the props,” you nod over at the bin that’s tucked away behind a small tree, “there should be four sets of antlers, two santa hats, a red nose, and some extra elf hats.”

He stares at you—because why on earth would you have that memorized—and raises his eyebrows. For a moment, as he watches you grab the clipboard that sits atop the prob bin and start counting, Steve wonders if maybe he should be more like you. The kind of person who seems to see the good in everything.

Then, he remembers what the outfit he’s got on looks like and shakes the thought away.

“Why would anyone want to be a clown in these pictures?” He says.

“The red nose is for Rudolph, dummy.”

You say dummy with a smile, like it’s something to admire. Steve huffs.

“Rudolph’s a loser.”

“Aw, come on, he’s got his own song and everything! I’d say that makes him the opposite of a loser.”

“Of course you would,” he mutters, cursing the tiniest twitch of a smile that tugs at the corners of his mouth. “What’s next?”

“Right,” you grab the bag that you brought from the staff room and set it on the ground by the tripod that’s already set up. “Next is the camera. Here, I’ll show you.”

The only knowledge Steve’s got of cameras comes from whatever Jonathan has told him, which hasn’t been very much, considering the pair’s history on the topic despite them being friends now.

So, he steps closer to you, watches as you pull the camera out of the bag.

“You just have to switch it on and make sure the battery’s full, right there,” you say, pointing at the small symbol that lets you know if the camera’s charged or not. “And don’t forget to take the lens cap off. I did it once and this dad yelled at me, so...”

You pop the lens cap off, putting it in the bag. Steve’s standing close to you, right behind you, his chin hovering over your shoulder, the warmth of his chest just shy of brushing against your back.

“Finally,” you continue, ignoring the little skip in your heartbeat, the way you breathe just a tiny bit quicker. “Set it up on the tripod, and you’re good to go.”

He watches your fingertips move easily, securing the camera to the tripod. When you’re done, you turn around to face him, and it’s only then that Steve realizes how close he’s gotten.

Close enough that you stumble and land against his chest, his hands on your upper arms to steady you as you pull back quickly, like you’d been burned. Steve, however, doesn’t let go just yet and he’s got no idea why.

He doesn’t let go until the music in the mall is switched on, the opening notes of some Christmas song startling you both. Steve steps back and releases you, dropping his hands by his sides and ignoring the twitch of his fingers.

“Alright,” you say, trying to brush the moment off. “That sound means we’re open. You ready?”

“Do I have a choice?”

“Nope!”

Your lunch breaks at Santa’s Workshop feel like a luxury, because no matter how much you enjoy the job, it’s nice to get away from the rowdy children it forces you to deal with.

Unlike your job at the theater, where your breaks are staggered, the workshop closes for an hour every day, meaning that even during lunch, Steve’s stuck with you.

The sign by the line for Santa is flipped, and parents groan whenever they see the festive font saying you’ll be back in an hour.

You take the hour spent in the staff room as a time to ask him questions, what his hobbies are (“does driving a pack of 13-year-olds around count?”), if he likes his job at Scoops (“I’m starting to appreciate it more. The lesser of two evils, or something”), if he’d introduce you to Robin someday (“I’m afraid of what that might do to my sanity.”)

Today, you’re trying to tackle the subject of his Grinch-like tendencies.

“What’s your favorite Christmas movie?” You ask.

Steve doesn’t know why he continues to answer your questions whenever you throw them at him—which is often—but he does. He thinks it might be like being mean to a puppy, ignoring you. Unnecessarily cruel.

“Don’t have one.”

“Ugh. Come on, Steve! Everyone has a favorite.” You slump in your seat across from him at the small table in the break room. Steve stares at you blankly as he takes another bite of his lunch. “You can tell me.”

“I’m serious,” he says, nudging your foot with his when it comes close. “They’re cheesy.”

“Aren’t you secretly a rom-com fan?”

“How did you-”

“So, you actually enjoy cheesy movies!”

“Okay, well you don’t have to say it to the entire mall. Gosh.”

Steve wonders how you know that about him, how you’ve been able to guess a lot of things without him telling you. Briefly, just for a second, he wonders if that might mean something.

Like, if maybe you’re in his life now for a reason.

“Don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me, Steve.” You smile what you hope is an honest, reassuring smile. “So, the cheesiness isn’t the root of the issue.”

“No, I guess not.”

“I’m gonna take a guess here,” you start, “and say that you’re not a fan of Christmas.”

“You’re not gonna let this go, are you?”

“Steve, I’ve never heard someone complain about jingle bells so much in my life.”

“We can’t all behave like we’ve been injected with sunshine.”

You don’t think he means it as a compliment, but you decide to take it as one nonetheless. But you suppose he’s right, there’s always gotta be a balance. Dark and light, happy and sad.

“Thank you,” you give him a quick grin. “And you’re avoiding the question.”

He’s silent for a moment, twisting his fork around between his fingers. “My parents never really did Christmas.”

Your heart squeezes a little in your chest at his words, at the way his tone goes quieter, at the way he looks at the table to avoid catching your eye.

Immediately, you feel guilty for prying, because the last thing you’d ever wanted to do was force him to tell you something he didn’t want to. It’s not your place, no matter how curious you are, no matter how much you’d like to give him a hug or something right about now.

It’s not your place, but you find yourself wishing it could be.

“Shit, I’m sorry, Steve.” You reach for his hand that sits on the table and give it a quick squeeze before pulling back. “You don’t have to talk about it. I shouldn’t have bugged you.”

“It’s okay. I’ve had a lot of time to accept it.” He shrugs, like it doesn’t affect him. But from the scrunch in his brows, you can tell it does, at least a little bit. “The Harringtons have better things to do than sit around cleaning up wrapping paper.”

Steve feels embarrassed, his cheeks warm and his head bent. He doesn’t like scraping this wound open, doesn’t like to think about what he was missing out on while everyone thought his life was perfect.

He especially doesn’t want you looking at him like he’s injured or something after this.

Surprisingly to Steve, you don’t. You actually do quite the opposite. You smile brightly at him, like you’ve just had an excellent idea, like you can inject a bit of your sunshine into him with it.

“How about this: I’ll teach you how great Christmas can be.”

“I think it might be a little late for that.” Steve tries to shake his admission away, to clear the room. He points at the elf hat on his head, “this outfit has ruined any last shred of hope I had.”

“How many times do I have to tell you that you make a cute elf? You pull it off better than I do.”

“You don’t have to lie to me.”

“I’m not!” Steve raises his eyebrows at you. You ignore that look. “Whatever. I cannot in good conscience, let you keep disliking Christmas. Think of how fun it could be. Plus, you owe me for all of those movies I let your children into.”

Steve already finds it difficult to say no to you, because of how kind you remain even when he’s snarky with you, because of the same kindness you seem to offer to everyone you meet.

So, even though he’s not sure what your plan entails, he sighs and says: “okay. Fine.”

“Wait, really?”

“Don’t make me change my mind.”

You cheer, clapping a little in your seat. “Oh my gosh, we can go skating, and go to one of those Christmas light festivals, and make cookies-”

“What did I get myself into?” Steve mutters, while you’re still rambling off ideas.

“-I’m gonna need to make a list.”

Even after your break ends, you seem to have an extra pep in your step, if that’s even possible. Your smile is a bit wider, your eyes brighter, and Steve can’t help but feel a little special for being somewhat responsible for that.

Really, what did I get myself into, he wonders.

In the time between him agreeing to your Christmas plans a couple of days ago and now, at yet another shift, Steve has realized that he actually likes you quite a bit. Even though your seemingly constant optimism drives him a little bit crazy.

You treat everyone with an attitude that’s so rare, he finds that his previous annoyance for you is slowly becoming overtaken by the endearment.

He won’t admit it, not when bantering with you seems to be the highlight of his days lately, but Steve is starting to be sort of grateful that he got selected for this job.

And that has absolutely nothing to do with the outfit he wears. He still fucking hates that.

“It’s alright, cutie,” he hears your voice say, all soft and understanding. He finds you, crouched down to talk to a little girl who seems to be wary of Santa. “I bet Santa will give you something extra from your list if you smile for the picture.”

The girl nods, like she’s determined. But, when you stand back up, she grabs onto your hand by your side.

“What is it?” You ask her.

“Can you do it with me?”

You look over to the girl’s mother where she stands to the side, and she nods, eager to get the picture done. So, with that, you say, “okay, then.”

Steve’s standing behind the camera as he watches you help the girl onto the bench beside Santa. Then you’re sitting beside her and telling her to look at the nice boy behind the camera.

It takes him a second to realize you’re talking about him, but when he does, he forces himself into action, bending to look through the viewfinder.

“Say cheese,” he says.

The click of the camera sounds, and then it’s done. You help the girl down, who goes over to her mom quickly and they head over to grab their picture.

Once they’re gone, the line dies down, giving you and Steve a rare pause from the pictures and overenthusiastic welcomes to ‘the North Pole.’

“I hope that family’s okay with my face in their picture,” you say, coming to stand beside Steve by the camera. “I mean, I know the mom nodded, but maybe they’ll cut me out of it.”

You’ve become more comfortable with Steve the more you’ve worked with him, getting to know him in how his grumpiness is more related to the holidays and early mornings than anything else, in how he turns the same grumpiness down when he talks to the kids.

You think he’s grown more comfortable with you, too, because he’s started bringing you a coffee in a festive cup in the morning, leaving it in your cubby without a word.

From Steve, you think that says a lot. His actions have always spoken louder than his words, you think. Like the free ice cream he gives you from Scoops, or the small nod he’d give you whenever he’d pick up the kids from a movie.

And now, there’s the small tug of his lips, the hint of a smile that has you saying, “Steve Harrington are you smiling right now?”

“Shut up,” he shakes his head at you. “That was sweet. What you did for that girl.”

Steve lets himself say what he thinks for once, because there’s nobody else around, because he wants you to hear it.

You hide your shy smile by looking down at your feet. You know that underneath everything, Steve is probably one of the best boys you’ve ever met, because even with his attitude, he’ll never say anything to truly hurt you, and with how little you know about his family, you also know that it’s rare for someone in his situation to remain so good.

Any resemblance of a compliment from Steve feels extra special, like its own gift in itself.

“Ruining her picture, you mean?” You ask, trying to cover up how you feel about him calling you sweet.

“You didn’t ruin that picture, sunshine.”

Sunshine. That’s new.

“Well I’m glad someone thinks so.”

Before Steve has the chance to respond, the line picks up again, and it’s back to business as usual. The routine click of the camera, the sound of parents telling their kids to smile nice and big.

You and Steve catching each other’s eye when a particularly entertaining family rolls around, laughing at the way he does an impression of a mom after she leaves. With work being sort of like this every day, you wish it could be Christmas all year round. You much prefer this to the theater, you think.

Steve can't say that he likes this job more than Scoops—Robin might call him traitorous—but he finds that you’d been at least a little right when you said that it would get better when he got used to things, when he hears the sound of your laugh rather than those stupid bells on his shoes.

He finds that he sometimes has to remind himself that he doesn’t like the holidays, that they aren’t like this all the time.

At the end of your shift, as you and Steve grab your stuff from the staff room, you turn to him, leaning against the wall as he shrugs on his coat.

“So, I made a list,” you say. “We are going to have the best Christmas ever, Harrington.”

“My standards are very low, so it wouldn’t take much.”

“Don’t care. I have plans. We can make gingerbread houses and get Christmas pajamas-”

“Absolutely not.”

While Steve already agreed to letting you show him Christmas your way, he thinks he can only take so much at a time. Small doses of your jolly spirit are plenty.

“Steeeve.”

“I am drawing the line. No Christmas pajamas. Not happening.”

“But the gingerbread houses are a yes?” You ask, hopeful and smiling like it’ll persuade him.

“I’ll get back to you on that one.”

That’s what Steve decides to say, instead of simply agreeing because he finds that he’d like to spend time with you outside of work, to see if you’re really so bright all the time, to see if he can soak it up a little better when he’s not dressed as a damn elf.

That’s what he decides to say because it’s easier than spilling the rest of it out there. Much, much easier.

“But you already agreed!” You pout at him a little, exaggerated dramatics on your part. “You can’t just tell me I can teach you Christmas and then back out, I mean, I made an actual bucket list. With glitter and shit.”

“Oh no, not the glitter,” Steve places a hand on his chest, sarcastically scandalized. “That makes it serious.”

You blink at him, giving him a blank look. “Don’t diss the list. By the end of it, you’re gonna be jolly as fuck, trust me.”

“Jolly as fuck,” he repeats, shaking his head on a laugh. “You’ve got a way with words, sunshine.”

“Thank you.” You push your tote bag onto your shoulder, fishing out your keys, they clink in your palm when you find them. “I’m not letting you back out of this, by the way. The list is binding.”

“Well in that case…”

You give Steve a little smile, the flash of a sunbeam, before heading out, and he’s left standing in the break room wondering what you’ve got on that list, why you seem to care so much about it.

Huffing, he supposes he’ll find out soon enough.

Steve definitely should not have told you that he’d never been ice skating before.

It all started when you’d been talking about that damn list at your most recent shift, a couple of days after he’d accepted the fact that he couldn’t back out of it (did he really want to?).

“Hey, you have a change of clothes in your bag, right?” You’d asked him in between families.

“Um… yeah. Why?”

“Because, Steve, our festivities begin today after work!” You clapped your hands together softly, excited and encouraging, yet delicate. “I haven’t quite decided what we’re starting with yet.”

“I thought you had a list.”

“I do! But it’s not in order,” you shrugged, “I’m more of a mood-based decision maker, anyways.”

“Of course you are,” he’d said, his usual sarcasm lighter, laced with something you couldn’t quite place.

“So I’m thinking we go skating-”

“Nope.”

“You can't say no to every idea I have. Then how will you get the Christmas experience?”

“I won’t say no to everything.” You looked at him like you didn’t believe him, so, quietly, he added, “it’s just, I’ve never been skating before.”

“Steve, that’s nothing to be embarrassed about,” you reassured him easily, your voice honest in a sort of natural way, like you couldn't lie even if you tried. “All the more reason to give it a try. The point is to have fun, not to be good at it. I’m really not that great, myself.”

“If I hate it, we’re leaving.”

“Deal.”

And that’s how he’d ended up here, standing next to you at the rental counter at the ice rink, telling some teenager his shoe size so he could get a pair of skates.

Steve looks at you as you talk to the teenager, paying before he even gets the chance. He looks at the hat you’ve got on your head, the way your jeans are cuffed just enough to let your snowman patterned socks peek out of your boots.

He realizes that he’s only ever really seen you in uniform, at the theater and as an elf, and he thinks, quickly, like a car driving by, that you look really pretty like this. With snowflakes stuck in your eyelashes and all.

Though he’s never said it, barely let himself think it, he’s always found you pretty in a sort of undeniable way, like it was just a fact. Now, he finds you pretty in a way that makes him feel it.

His heart beats like it feels it, too. The traitor.

“Thank you,” you say, grabbing both your and Steve’s pairs of skates. You turn to him, smiling like always, Christmas lights reflected in your eyes, “ready to go?”

“As I'll ever be,” he says, letting you lead the way to the benches by the rink.

He watches the way you tie your skates, copying your movements on his own pair, double knotting the bow at the end. When you stand, he stays seated for a moment, suddenly more nervous than before, because the last thing he wants to do is embarrass himself in front of you, in front of everyone around.

Like you can read his mind, you say, “it’s okay, the first step is only standing. It looks harder than it is, promise.”

“I feel like you’re lying to make me feel better.”

“Why don’t you just stand up and find out, then?”

He rolls his eyes, more at himself than you, and pushes himself up from the bench. It takes him a second to get used to the feeling of the skates, of balancing on them, but eventually, he nods at you, eager to get it over with.

“‘Kay, so it’s gonna feel weird when you step on the ice, but you can just hold onto the side until you get the hang of it.” You start walking ahead of him, turning back to say, “I have a feeling you’ll be a natural.”

“Sure you do,” he mutters, shaking his head.

The rink is outdoors, the walls surrounded with string lights of all kinds, twinkling and colorful. In the middle, there’s a big tree, a shining gold star sat on top. There’s a hot chocolate stand to the side, the smell mingling with the freshness of the cold.

There are Christmas songs playing over the speakers (of course), and Steve thinks that if he hears one more rendition of “Jingle Bell Rock,” he’ll have to invest in a pair of ear plugs. On top of that, there’s the sound of laughter, kids with their parents, friends, couples, everyone seems to be having fun.

Everyone seems to be at ease except for him.

You step onto the rink first, skating a couple of steps forward to give Steve room to get on. He holds onto the side like you told him to, lifting a foot and stepping forward slowly, his foot slipping a little when it hits the ice.

You don’t say anything, don’t pressure him, only stand there with a kindness in your eyes that tells him you won’t be anything but patient.

Still, he doesn’t take too long to get the other foot on the ice, too, his feet carrying him forward a little bit, his hand gripping the side tighter.

“See? It’s not so bad,” you skate to his side, leaving space between you as Steve holds out his arm for balance. “Now all you gotta do is push yourself forward.”

“You make it sound like it’s easy.”

“It’s called being encouraging, Steve. Let me be encouraging!”

“Fine,” he stares down at his feet, his hair falling over his forehead. “So what do I do?”

“Use one foot to push, and then let yourself glide, switch feet, and repeat. You can do it.”

He gives it a go, and finds that it isn’t awful, but he moves slowly, and looking around at the other people skating, he’s not an impressive skater at all.

Steve has always felt the urge to be good at everything he does, basketball, driving, even fucking babysitting. He’s always tried so hard to do things well, like maybe, if he was talented enough, his parents would care more, would finally be proud of him for something.

He swallows that thought down and pushes forward again.

You follow his speed, gliding easily beside him, “look at you go!”

“I look like an idiot,” he says, his arm outstretched beside him, the other gripping the side, his knees bent.

When you look at him, though, all you see is the pink of his cheeks and nose from the cold, the way his hair brushes against his forehead, the focus in his eyes, the determination. No, you don’t think he looks like an idiot at all.

“You look like you’re trying, and that’s a great look on you, Steve.”

This time, it isn’t only the cold that pinkens his cheeks.

He doesn’t have time to muster up a reply, because the next time Steve skates ahead, he stumbles, his balance wavering until he feels your hand grabbing onto his arm to help steady him.

Then, your hand moves to hold his, and even through the layers of both of your gloves, he feels the warmth in his fingertips, some sort of tingling.

“This way, if you fall, so do I,” you say, squeezing his hand once, winking at him like the thought of falling doesn’t scare you one bit.

“Are you sure about that?”

“Super sure.”

You hadn’t been lying on that one, because eventually Steve does fall, and you fall right along with him, landing on the ice with a little, “oop!”

On his back, Steve turns his head to look at you, your hair a mess around you, some on your cheeks. He reaches out and brushes it away.

“You okay, sunshine?”

The response he gets is the sound of your laughter, a single loud cackle that has your eyes widening and a hand smacking over your mouth.

Your laughter fades into a fit of giggles, one so infectious that Steve—surrounded by all kinds of Christmas-themed things he swore he hated—laughs along with you.

And for the first time, maybe in his entire life, Steve thinks that the holidays might not be the worst thing ever.

Steve’s in a bad mood today, that scrunch in his brows you'd thought had been easing away back in full force.

It’s your first shift back together since you’d been skating only a couple of days ago, and you can’t help but worry that maybe it was too much, that you’d pushed him too far.

Even though, at the time, he’d been smiling more than you’ve seen him smile maybe ever, and you really thought that you had a shot at making Christmas better for him. You worry that he wasn’t as happy as he seemed, that he was pretending to have fun for your sake.

Steve, on the other hand, is actually glad to be at work for once, glad for the distraction it gives him. He’s unaware that his emotions are so visible on his face, that you think an ounce of his annoyance and anger is aimed at you.

All he knows is that after the morning he had, he needs this distraction.

This morning, it wasn’t the beep of his alarm that had woken him up, but the shrill ring of the phone on his bedside table. Groggy, with his eyes still half shut, Steve picked up the phone.

He wishes he didn’t.

“Hello?” His voice was almost a groan, scratchy from sleep, irritated at being woken up earlier than his alarm.

“Steve, sweetie!” His mother’s voice made him squint his eyes shut further. “Why do you sound so tired?”

“‘Cause it’s six in the morning, mom.”

“Oh, silly me. I forgot about time zones,” she said, though she didn’t sound the least bit apologetic. She didn’t even care enough to know what time it was for her son. “Anyways, I’m calling to let you know your father and I won’t make it home for Christmas this year. There’s this banquet we just can’t miss. You understand, don’t you?”

Steve doesn’t know why he’d been surprised, doesn’t know why her words, completely devoid of any kind of empathy towards the situation, made his stomach hurt.

“Yeah, okay,” he’d said, because it was no use to do anything but agree.

This was his normal: an almost monthly phone call from one of his parents from wherever they are in the world, no matter the time, always telling him that they’re missing this holiday, his birthday (which, at this point, he was shocked they even remembered), anything.

“That’s my boy,” she’d said, as if she knew him at all. She didn’t. Hasn’t known him—or cared to—for a long time. “I knew you’d understand.”

“Right.”

“Oh, there’s your father. Gotta go.”

And just like that, she hung up.

Steve almost wishes that they’d never call at all, because maybe then it would be easier to swallow their neglect. If they’d just forget him completely, he could get rid of that stupid, tiny sprout of hope he feels whenever they call, hoping things will be different.

At least it was his mother this time, he thinks. His father is a hundred times worse, only ever disappointed in Steve, asking about his job or when he plans on ‘getting a real life,’ never about him.

So yeah, Steve’s in a bad mood today.

The two of you don’t talk for the majority of your shift, you, afraid that Steve’s angry with you, opting to give him space, and Steve, stewing in every negative emotion that comes along with a phone call from his parents.

You don’t talk until one of the last families in line for the day comes up.

Once the kids are in place, you lean down to look through the viewfinder, counting them down and snapping the picture when they say ‘cheese.’ To the side, the children’s mom looks at you with so much judgment, Steve, even brewing in his thoughts, notices.

With the picture taken, you take the camera over to the mom, letting her see the picture the way you do with all the parents, making sure they approve.

Instead of approval, what you get is, “what the hell is that?”

You’ve dealt with your fair share of rude customers, at every job you’ve had, but this woman all but screams at you, and that’s rare. “Sorry,” you say, “I can take a new one, no problem.”

“I better be getting the new one for free with how these pictures are looking,” she practically hisses at you.

Usually, you can handle stuff like this, can smack on a smile and politely agree to get things taken care of, but today, the mixture of all your self-doubt and worrying about messing things up with Steve and this mother shouting at you, things pile up, and you feel your happy mask slipping.

“Um,” you start, voice small.

“You elves get worse every year,” she says to you. “I can’t believe people this incompetent even exist.”

Steve, hearing the whole thing, is quick to step in front of you, any thoughts about his shitty parents quickly fading in favor of helping you.

“Excuse me, ma’am, but she already offered to take another picture, and if that isn’t good for you, you’re free to leave,” Steve’s voice doesn’t slip one bit, standing his ground with every word.

You’re overwhelmed with everything going on, and when Steve turns around to look at you, nodding his head towards the staff room, you take the escape he offers you quickly, eyes blurry with tears you won’t let fall until you’re alone.

“You can’t speak to me like that!” The woman stomps her foot.

“I can, actually. She,” he points in the direction you’d gone, “is the kindest person I know, and you shouldn’t speak to her that way. I understand the holidays are a stressful time for everyone, but we spend all day helping people like you take these pictures, and the least you could do is say ‘thank you.’”

Rather than respond, the woman takes her children’s hands and stomps off.

Steve turns to find that the few families that had been in line before have decided to leave, and he takes the emptiness of Santa’s Workshop as an opportunity to follow after you.

He finds you sitting on the bench beneath your cubby in the break room, head buried in your hands, sniffling a little like you’re trying to be as quiet as possible. Steve can’t think about anything other than how much he hates seeing you upset, like a cloud covering the sun.

“Hey,” he says gently, sitting beside you on the bench. “Don’t listen to any of that. She was a bitch.”

You’re both grateful and unhappy that Steve came after you. Grateful because he’s kind, because he’s showing you that he cares. Unhappy because you’re embarrassed of him seeing you like this, because he calls you sunshine and you don’t feel like that right now.

It takes a second before you move your hands, wiping at your cheeks before turning to look at Steve, his brown eyes already on your face, unbelievably soft.

“I’m sorry,” you say, “I don’t know why I’m crying. It’s stupid.”

“It’s not,” he assures you. “She was awful to you after a long enough day. You have every right to be upset.”

“You’re being really nice,” your voice breaks a little bit, fighting any more tears that threaten to spill.

“I can be nice. I should be nicer to you.” He knows he should, but with Christmas and everything, it’s easy for him to be grouchy. “You sound surprised.”

“It’s just,” you shrug, almost defeated. “I thought you were mad at me today.”

Steve’s heart fucking aches at the sound of your voice, all small and lacking of the light he’s somehow come to like so much. And when another tear slips down your cheek, he can’t stop himself from reaching out and holding your face in his hands, thumbing the tear away lightly.

“I don’t think I could ever really be mad at you, sunshine.”

“Oh.”

His hands are warm where they hold your cheeks, a thumb still tracing back and forth over your skin. Not mad, then.

“I, uh,” Steve looks at where his thumb brushes against you, like he can’t believe it’s there, like he doesn’t want to look into your eyes for the next part. “I got a call from my mom this morning. They’re not coming home this year. Again. I shouldn’t be surprised but… anyways. That’s why I’ve been so quiet and shit today. Not because of you.”

One of your hands comes up to lay over his where it sits on your cheek, tangling your fingers with his and moving your hands down to your lap.

“I’m sorry, Steve.”

“I’m the one who should be sorry. I shouldn’t take this stuff out on you just because you like Christmas and I don’t.”

You smile a little bit, a twitch of your lips, but Steve takes it as a win all the same.

“I’m gonna change that,” you say.

“Sure you will,” he replies, the sarcasm in his voice still there the way it usually is when he teases you, but this time, he’s smiling, too.

Steve told you to go home after that, assuring you that he’d take care of the few families left, and when you’d opened your mouth to tell him you were fine, you could stay, he’d pinned you with a look and told you again to let him do it.

So, you did.

You’d thought it would be a day at least until you’d see Steve again, but it’s only a couple of hours after your shift ends.

There’s a knock at your door, your apartment one of the ones built above a shop on Main Street, and even though you have no idea who it could be, you get up, sock-covered feet padding against the floor as you go over to answer it.

You’re surprised to find Steve on the other side—one, because you don’t think you’ve ever told him where you live, and two, because you didn’t think he’d want to see you more today than he already had—a bag in his hand and a shy sort of question on his face.

“Steve? What are you doing here?”

He scratches at the back of his neck with his free hand before responding, a nervous gesture that he hasn’t been able to get rid of. “I thought that maybe, after the day you’ve had, you could use some cheering up. I could, too.”

You remember him telling you about the phone call from his parents, and something in your stomach flutters a little when you realize that his plans to cheer up involve you of all people.

“Okay.” You smile, you can’t really help it, “come in, then.”

He does, closing the door behind him and toeing off his shoes before stepping inside any further. Steve spots your kitchen table easily, and moves to set the bag he’s holding down.

“I thought we could do another thing that might be on your list,” he says. Steve tugs things out of the bag, gingerbread house kits, to be exact. “Gingerbread houses are Christmas bucket list worthy, right?”

“Absolutely,” you search his face, a little confused because last you heard, Steve was not into your whole bucket list thing, but here he is. “And you’re doing this… voluntarily?”

“I have the receipt. I can return them, if you prefer.”

“No! Don’t do that. I just mean- I thought you didn’t like Christmas or my list and that you were just playing along to be nice.”

“I might not be the biggest fan of Christmas, but,” he shrugs, opening one of the boxes of gingerbread, “you’re a good teacher, sunshine.”

You resist the urge to pinch yourself, like you might be dreaming because Steve, who you’ve grown to like an embarrassing amount, is here, offering to do this with you and giving you a compliment like it’s nothing.

When you respond, you hope your voice doesn’t give away how you really feel. Excited, happy, your heart jumping. “Can I get that in writing?”

“Shut up.” He shakes his head, pointing to the unopened box, “now will you come build this gingerbread house or what?”

“Mine’s gonna be way prettier than yours.”

Steve simply rolls his eyes, but there’s the hint of a smile there, too. He’s happy to see that your light is back, that you didn’t let what happened at work get to you too much.

You sit down beside each other at your table, gingerbread kits laid out in front of you. Icing and sprinkles, a cookie roof and chimney. You’re sure it’ll leave a mess, but right now you don’t mind.

There’s a sort of lightness in the air, the knowledge that this thing—friendship, more, whatever it is—between the two of you is something that you’re both happy to bask in. It’s unspoken, and that doesn’t bother you.

You and Steve start by unpacking all of the pieces, yours laid out neatly, his in a leaning pile that makes you bite back a laugh.

“The fucking roof won’t stay on,” Steve says once you’ve both started to put the houses together, and he sounds genuinely annoyed about it.

“Just put some more icing on it,” you say, “there’s no such thing as too much.”

“I don’t think icing will save me now, sunshine.”

You look away from your own gingerbread house over to Steve’s. His hands are holding the roof up, pushing them together so they meet at the top, and he’s staring at the thing with so much determination that you can’t help but giggle.

“You laughing at me?” Steve quirks a brow at you, but there’s a shine in his eyes. They smile even when his mouth doesn’t.

“I can’t believe you’re taking this so seriously,” you laugh, and that smile of his spreads slowly on Steve’s face, blooming like a flower. “It’s alright to admit defeat, Steve. My house is already better than yours.”

“Woah, this isn’t over yet, alright? Mine just needs time, don’t you worry.”

“Whatever you say, Steve.”

“Someone’s feeling brave tonight,” he teases, nudging you with his elbow without letting go of the roof of his house. “Don’t speak too soon, sunshine. I could be the underdog here.”

You lean over with your icing bag in hand, piping some more into the gap in Steve’s roof. “Here, let me help.”

Steve—always reluctant to accept help of any kind, even the smallest things—lets you. While he watches your face as you pipe the icing, the focus, the way your tongue pokes out from between your lips, you take his distraction as an opportunity to move, letting your icing fall onto his hand instead of the house.

“Oops,” you shrug, your tone suggesting that it wasn’t a mistake at all.

Steve gasps overdramatically, then leans closer to you, “Oh, looks like you’ve got something right there.” His hand reaches for your face, and he spreads the icing from it onto your cheek.

“You’re done for, Harrington.”

He only laughs, bright and quick.

Before you know it, you’re having some sort of food fight, putting a dot of icing on Steve’s nose, him tossing sprinkles at you. It’s a mess, but all you can hear is Steve’s laughter, all you can see is his smile. Unguarded for once, free and genuine.

By the time it dies down, there’s stripes of icing on your cheeks, red and green sprinkles scattered about the floor and on the table, and Steve’s got his own patches of icing to deal with.

“You better help me clean this, Harrington,” you say, your giggles still spilling, fizzling out softly. “What are we gonna decorate these houses with now?”

“Mine’s a lost cause,” he admits, the pieces now in a pile the way they’d started.

“So I won, is what I’m hearing.”

Steve looks at you, at the sparkle in your eyes that had been dimmed earlier at work, at the smile that spreads across your face when his eyes meet yours. Fuck. He thinks you’re completely beautiful, icing across your face and all.

His gaze snags on a piece of green in your hair, and before he can think about it, he reaches up and tugs it out for you.

“Sprinkle,” he says.

You look at his hands, messy from the gingerbread houses but never any less strong, and you remember how they felt in yours when you’d been skating. And when you flick your eyes back to his face, he’s already looking at you, gaze dipping to your mouth quickly, like he can’t help it.

And shit, you think. You really, really like this boy.

Before either of you can say anything more, you’re leaning towards each other, meeting in the middle and you’re not sure if you kiss him or he kisses you, but you end up with your mouths pressed together.

It’s featherlight at first, testing the waters. Then, Steve’s hands cup your jaw gently and pull you back to him, and you wouldn’t dream of doing anything but follow.

He kisses you again, still soft somehow, but more certain, his lips dancing with yours like you’ve done this a hundred times before.

You reach up and grasp his wrists in your hands, feeling his pulse under your thumbs. His heart is racing just as much as yours, you notice. Like your heartbeats have synced to a twin pattern, like this kiss was enough to do that.

And while you’re not sure what will happen after this, you know that something has shifted, that both of you are saying things you’re too afraid to say out loud.

When he pulls back, Steve presses one, two more pecks to your mouth, his thumbs tracing over your skin so lightly you might’ve dreamt it.

He doesn’t think he’ll ever think about kissing the same way after you. Steve feels warm the way he does when the sun beams on him in summer, and quickly, he thinks, I could get used to this feeling.

Then, he gets up and finds a small towel in one of the drawers by your sink, wetting it with warm water before coming back to sit with you.

“Let’s get you cleaned up,” he says, using a finger to tilt your chin up, swiping the towel over your cheeks to get rid of the icing there as lightly as he can.

And that’s that.

December twenty-fourth is your last day at Santa’s Workshop. Christmas Eve snuck up quick, and tomorrow, the twenty-fifth, the mall will be closed.

You’ve always enjoyed the job, but this year’s been your favorite by far. Usually, you and your coworkers would get along just fine, talking during shifts and laughing but never expanding outside of work, but it’s completely different with Steve.

He knocked on your door with gingerbread houses in hand and kissed you like it meant something. You like him so much that it’s in your bones, this feeling he brings out of you, how special you feel when you think about the trust he’s shown you.

But looking back, you think you were screwed from the start. From his scrunched brows asking you if the bells on the elf shoes were really necessary, to confiding in you about his parents, that list you made that seemed to be the beginning of what things have grown into now.

Green elf hat lopsided on his head, Steve smiles at you from where he stands by the camera. You smile back without thinking, like it’s natural, an instinct.

“Alright,” he says, talking to the kids sitting on the bench with Santa. “Everyone say ‘cheese’ on three. One, two-”

“Cheese!”

The camera clicks, and then it’s onto the next, the system you and Steve have created moving along smoothly, family after family.

If someone told Steve when he’d started this job, grouchy and prepared to pout about it every day, that he’d grow to like it, that he’s realized he’ll miss it when it’s gone, he would’ve laughed in their faces.

Never in a million years did Steve think he’d come remotely close to enjoying being an elf, but he has (he still fucking hates the outfit, though). You have everything to do with his surprising not-so-hatred of the job, of his careful fondness growing towards the holidays.

It’s all because of you.

Christmas Eve is a busy day at Starcourt mall, parents rushing about for last minute presents, teenagers taking advantage of holiday sales, and families lined up for their Santa pictures they’d forgotten about until now.

You don’t get breaks between families often today, but once you do, you and Steve are next to each other, making imaginary backstories for random people that pass by, dramatically reading lips of conversations.

The next time there’s an opening, you walk over to Steve, holding up your fist as if there’s a microphone in it. “So, Steve, tell me, how does it feel to have survived December as a Christmas elf?”

“I feel like I should get an award, maybe,” he says into your fake microphone. “I’ve gotten two rashes from this scratchy outfit. Two! And I’ll never hear jingle bells the same again.”

You laugh before clearing your throat and getting back into your news anchor character, “wow. You heard it here folks, North Pole outfits are not luxurious.”

“No, they are not.”

Steve can’t help but grin as he looks at you, as he jokes around with you so easily it feels like he’s known you for years instead of a month. He supposes he has known you longer, but never the way he does now.

“Now, will you be returning to Santa’s Workshop in future Decembers, mister Harrington?”

“Well, that depends,” he says. “I think I’ll require a certain presence to be with me if I come back. Can’t survive it without my doses of sunshine.”

My doses of sunshine.

You’ve never reacted to words the way you do with Steve, but when he says things like that, how can you not react? He compliments you in these indirect ways that only you could understand, and this secret language of yours has your heart skipping, your world tinted-pink.

That one makes you break character, “really?”

“Really.”

Looking up at him, at those soft, melting brown eyes that have always told you more than anything else about him, at the fondness in them, you think about that kiss.

You haven’t spoken about it, but you haven’t felt the need to. It meant something, you know that much, and by the way Steve sneaks touches—a squeeze of your hand, a palm on your back—he does, too.

“You make Christmas better,” he tells you.

He leaves you with that as the next family walks up for their picture, but you don’t miss the way his eyes linger on you, his gaze spreading sparkles over your skin.

It’s hard to focus when all you can think about is him calling you sunshine in that soft voice of his he’s only used when you’re alone, but you have to, so it’s back to work you go.

You don’t get to speak much again until your shift is over, the Christmas Eve evening rush swooping in and keeping you both busy.

It’s bittersweet, walking to the back room for the last time from Santa’s Workshop. You’re excited for tomorrow, because it’s Christmas and it’s one of your favorite days of the year, but it’s hitting you now how much you’ll miss seeing Steve nearly every day.

You’ll still see him, of course you will. Whether it’s him getting you to help sneak kids into a movie or maybe something more, something for just the two of you. Either way, you’re at least sure of one thing: Steve Harrington is one of the best people you know.

He’s the first to speak as you step into the staff room. “I have something for you,” he says.

Steve scratches the back of his neck, the smallest hint of pink on his cheeks. He’s nervous, and it’s the sweetest thing. He reaches into his bag, pulling out a small box, a white ribbon tied in a bow around it, a little lopsided, like he’d tied it himself.

You take it from him, smiling down at the box, because no matter what’s in it, he cared enough to get you a gift and that’s what matters, that’s what you’ll hold onto.

“Really?”

“Open it, please.”

You listen, tugging the ribbon loose and opening up the small box. Inside, you find a delicate chain, the pendant in the shape of the sun.

“Steve.” It comes out in a breath, your eyes welling the tiniest bit because this is the best gift you’ve ever received. He’s a gift himself, looking at you shyly, searching your face for a reaction.

“Do you like it?” He asks, his voice soft. “If it’s too much I can-”

“It’s perfect,” you say, and you mean it. “Put it on for me?”

He flashes you a grin, the corners of his mouth tugging up as he nods and takes the necklace from you, undoing the clasp as you turn around and move your hair out of the way.

You can feel his warmth against your back as he drapes the necklace over your collar, his fingers brushing the back of your neck as he fiddles with the clasp.

“There you go,” he says, taking a small step back to give you room to spin back around to face him.

You look down at the sun pendant sitting against your skin, touching it lightly. Steve’s actions speak volumes, and this one makes you feel so many things. But above it all, you feel like his.

He watches your face as you look at the necklace, the slope of your nose and the softness of your cheeks. The flutter of your lashes and the smile you don’t even try to hide. He’s been resisting the urge to kiss you since he’d done it the first time, but it’s stronger than ever now, with his present around your neck.

Your eyes meet when you look back up at him, his brown ones never failing to show how he feels, and your heart skips with how he looks at you. Like he cares, like he doesn’t intend on stopping.

He brushes your hair over your shoulder, fingertips gentle as ever when they brush against the side of your neck.

“I love it, Steve, really. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, sunshine.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t get you anything, I didn’t expect-”

“Hey,” he cuts you off, his hand shifting to hold yours, fingers lacing with yours easily, “you’ve given me so much.”

Steve doesn’t know how he got lucky enough to get paired with you for this job, how he got lucky enough to have someone look past his slight grumpiness and really see him. You’ve given him Christmas as a whole, erasing bad memories, replacing them with new ones, and he doesn’t think any present could repay you for that.

“Oh wait!” You squeeze his hand before letting go and heading towards your bag, digging until you find what you’d been looking for. You hand Steve a folded piece of paper, “you should have this.”

As he unfolds it, he realizes it’s the bucket list you’d made for him what feels like forever ago, glitter and all. There are activities with check marks beside them, the ones you’d completed, and he shakes his head with the smile he seems to only wear when you’re around.

Very last on the list, your handwriting spells out words that make his chest feel light, his heart full.

‘Make next Christmas just as good.’

Steve finally stops holding himself back and kisses you for the second time, and you’re both certain it won’t be the last.

⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆

thank you for reading!! if you enjoyed, please please consider leaving a reblog or comment and let me know what you think! it would mean a bunch <3

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minhosimthings · 7 months

Text

Backstage Notoriety

Synopsis: Chan trying to shush you, as you try not to alert the rest of the boys about what you're doing backstage

Pairings: Bang Chan × Soloist!fem!reader

Warnings: SMUT MINORS DNI, fingering, overstimulation, Degradation (like only a little), praise, gagging kink, necklace is used as a gag, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), pregnancy joke, angry sex, rough sex

A/N: ITS YO GIRL MONA BACK WITH ANOTHER SMUT YALL WOOOHOOOOO I really like this for some reason I had fun writing it. Also Chan has got me in a chokehold rn I NEED THIS MAN TO BREED ME. And yes this is me procrastinating on my ongoing wip.

Dating a fellow idol was something you never thought you'd do in your entire life but here you were. Staring at your boyfriend dancing with the rest of his kids members and watching all his Stays with bedroom eyes. To say you were jealous was an understatement. A very great understatement, that is.

Being a soloist was a lonely job, with the one exception being that you didn't need to follow a packed schedule like other groups did. You could just sit back after your stage, and stare at everyone's outfits backstage, as you wait for your boyfriend to take you home and fuck you into oblivion. Yet as you watched your boyfriend show off his waist in a crop top your favourite colour, you couldn't help but want him to notice you. Stupid horny teenager coded feelings right?

"Haneul how much time till they finish?" You asked your manager who was packing up your things. She looked over at you and smiled. "Just another minute or so Y/N be patient you'll see him soon enough." She bent down and kissed your head "I'm going home alright? Tell Minho where I went or he'll go crazy. You'll come with Chan or should I tell a car to wait?" You shook your head at her. "I'll come with him don't worry. You should worry about Minho though he's gonna go mental when he finds out you left without him." Haneul let out a laugh and patted your shoulder before quickly walking out the door, leaving you all alone.

The sound of thunderous applause startled you, as you saw your boyfriend quickly walking down the stage, seven kids following him like penguins. The first one to enter the room was your boyfriend, suprisingly not covered in sweat and fashioning a towel round his neck. His face was not without happiness as he caught his eye on you and strode over, making adorable grabby hands.

"Baby!" he hugged you tightly, as you did everything in your power to stay mad at him, "Next time I'll make sure they arrange our shows right after one another. I can't stand not being with you for so long." "hmm" you hummed in response, not reciprocating the hug as you usually did. The rest of the members had entered the room by then and you spotted Minho frantically searching for his phone. "Haneul went home Minho." you cried at him, successfully catching his attention as he looked at you with widened eyes, "Don't worry, she's probably waiting for you."

"Oh alright." Minho said, plopping down onto the sofa, "Thanks for the message." You smiled gently at him, and turned to pick up your phone, when warm arms wrapped around your waist, making you freeze in your spot. The offer to sink into Chan's embrace was a tempting one, one that would effectively ruin your plan. "Did I do something wrong baby?" you heard Chan's voice whisper in your ear, tone akin to one he'd use for a child. You were being childish after all.

"Just tired Chan. I need to get home alright?", you briefly responded, wiggling away from his embrace. "I'll drop you off to the car." Chan responded, wrapping an arm around your waist so tightly that you couldn't protest, "I left something in my dressing room anyway so we can just get that on the way hm?" His tone worried you slightly. It was unlike the lovey-dovey one he usually used with you. Lovey? yes. Dovey? Definitely not.

The silence between you and Chan was too loud as both of you walked to Chan's dressing room, which was relatively near the exit point. His stare remained in front of him, not even a glance at you. You, on the other head, were trapped in his hold on your waist. It was tight. Too tight. The Pain kink comes in handy though right?.

"You really thought ignoring me would do anything baby?" Chan suddenly spoke up, when you reached the door to his dressing room. You shuddered as he pushed you against the door, one hand on the doorknob, the other holding your chin to him. "Chan-" "Nuh uh baby." He glared, "You're gonna pay for this."

Chan bombarded your lips with his and kissed you with every inch of pain in him. You would have melted into the kiss had it not been for Chan opening the doorknob and pushing you in.

"Wearing this cute little outfit and ignoring me." Chan mumbled in between the messy kiss, "Stupid little girl aren't you?" You gasped for air as Chan slid his fingers down your panties. You decided to give your stylist a bag of chocolates the next day, for giving you such an accessible dress.

"Ah Chan!" You shout out as Chan moves his fingers around your pussy, touching you exactly at all the spots he knew you adored. Chan slowly pulled off your underwear and threw it on the floor before pulling you into another kiss, fingers still racing across your cunt. His other hand reached up almost automatically to your hair, gripping it hard. You moaned into the kiss at his touch on your scalp as your hands quickly undid his trousers.

He’s rough. Good god, he’s fucking rough. His cock stretches you open deliciously, slamming into the deepest parts of you. The slick sounds of your dripping arousal fill the room with every violent thrust. You were sure your already short dress was about to get shorter as Chan kept such a firm grip on them, feeling the fabric twisting in between his fingers. With Chan continuing to fuck you, It’s almost impossible to keep yourself quiet at a time like this.

“J-Jesus,” you gasp, “holy fuck, Channie, y-you, fuck, you feel so fucking hot.” Your voice wavers in pitch and volume. Chan maintains a brutal pace, which you could swear he does on purpose. He lets out a gruff chuckle.

"It's Channie now is it baby?" He mocks you, "Fucking you so good you can't even speak can you?"

You let out a loud yelp when you feel his hand give your ass a hard slap. You jerk forward, shuddering on his cock. You can feel his towering frame lean over you, pulling you up by the shoulders, gathering you to his chest. He puts his fingers in your mouth, silencing your cries of lust.

You suck on his fingers, moans bubbling in your throat as Chan pistons his hips. It’s almost embarrassing how much you like the feeling of Chan using you like his personal doll.

“Babe,” Chan slows down. “As much as I love hearing what I do to you…” he gently maneuvers you, flipping you to look into your eyes. His hand tucks a piece of hair the fell onto your face behind your ear. His hand cups your cheek, the sweetness of his actions causes your mind to run wild with what kind of degenerate, devious plans he has in store for you. He reaches over to his neck and slowly unclasped the metal chain decorating it ever so wonderfully. "You're way too loud darling.”

"Open your mouth for me darling." He cooes at you as he shoves the necklace into your mouth. You wince in pain as the cold metal hits your tongue. Chan stares at you with an amused look on his face. "That's my good girl." He praises, giving a sudden thrust, which makes you widen your eyes.

You make a muffled cry for more, your soft and loud moans were music to his ears. He breathed heavily along with you as held onto your hips tightly. Skin smacking echoed in the room and you heard his soft groan which sent you coming. He groans louder as you clench around him.

Thankfully, Chan didn’t argue or get you to beg for his cock any more as he jolted his hips into you. “Always so loud aren't you darling?”, he scolded light-heartedly under his breath.

“Cha- Channie no more,” you plead with the necklace muffling your tone, tossing your head back onto the wall, hips bucking up into his despite your words. Chan growls, pushing you down by your stomach and blanketing your body with his own and pressing your knees almost up to your tits.

“You can take it, my dove, I promise,” the words come out choked, hoarse, but you wither under them nonetheless. The necklace had been laying down on the floor, having been detached from your mouth a long time ago. You can feel his cock pulsing deep inside your walls, seed almost spilling out from your entrance from his last two orgasms. You’re sure he’s overstimulated beyond belief, just like you, but he just can’t seem to stop.

“Wait, don’t cum yet; I’m so close, don’t cum”, you begged , not entirely wanting it to end just yet. Chan gasped, his mouth opening wide as his eyes did the opposite as they clenched shut as he concentrated on fucking you and not having another orgasm.

It doesn’t take long to feel the first flutterings of that eye-wateringly beautiful sensation between your legs as you quickly stammer, “I’m cumming! Fuck!”. Chan’s legs nearly gave out underneath him, hearing your sweet words.

As your pussy contracted in wet bursts around him, Chan released every drop of cum inside of his body, deep into your walls so that you could feel yourself becoming full and it beginning to drip out as it became too much. His thrusts slowed to a stop as you both slumped against the wall, bodies covered in a thin line of sweat.

"You alright honey?" He mumbled into your neck as he holds you tightly in his arms. "I'm good." You simply respond, cradling in Chan's warm muscles. Chan quickly deposits your weak figure on the divan before rushing off to find a towel and a change of clothes.

"I'm sorry Channie." You mumble, feeling your face turn red as Chan puts your shoes back on. He looks up at you with an amused expression and hums. "It's alright darling." He chuckles, "My jealous little baby." You slap his arm playfully as he gets you up slowly and walks you to the door, this time the grip on your waist being a comforting one.

"I wonder if your cum took or not." You blurt out. Chan looks at you with widened eyes before giggling. "You wouldn't really have to get used to being called mom do you? What with your seven adopted kids." "Our seven adopted kids." You correct him as he blushes and kisses you on the forehead.

"Seven kids who are probably wondering what their mom and dad have been doing backstage."

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takenbypeter · 1 month

Text

Not A Date, Date

Steven Grant x reader

Words: 883

Author’s note: this is an old fic I’ve had in my notes since last summer

You don’t know why you said yes.

Well actually you do. You said yes because, well, it’s Steven Grant the cute man who was the whole reason you kept going back to the museum. Steven Grant, the cute gift shop merchant who kept giving you information about Egypt despite him being glued to that counter. He was cute, adorably charming with his accent and he was quite the looker.

But you?

You didn’t think of yourself in that exact light. Actually in this moment you were staring at yourself in your bathroom mirror.

You were wearing an outfit which you’ve worn a few times before but this time something about it wasn’t sitting right.

As you turned to look at your back you couldn’t help but point out every bump that showed.

And while you stood there you couldn’t stop your arms from grabbing at your upper back beginning to feel slightly grossed out.

Before your thoughts could get worse, you quietly shook your head and headed straight for the closet. First changing your top into something a little baggier then of course that meant you had to change the bottom to match.

You went back to the mirror and turned around feeling slightly better at the view but something still felt…off.

As you stood across from the mirror your hands came in front cupping each other. One hand on top and one hand on bottom and like that you squeezed your fingers tight only for a few moments as you stared at yourself your brows beginning to crease in the mirror.

And after thirty seconds of that you realized you couldn’t do this. Maybe not tonight, maybe not ever.

Reaching for your phone you sat on the toilet lid and typed out a message to Steven.

“Can’t make it tonight,” you spoke as you typed and you set the phone down. Upset at yourself for the possibility of disappointing him, you felt this would actually be better for both of you. Expecting a text notification you were surprised when your phone rang instead.

Picking it up once more you noticed it was Steven calling.

You thought about ignoring it. Just forgetting everything happened but instead you hit the answer button and put the phone up to your ear.

“Hello?” You asked.

“Hi, this is Steven. Well you probably knew that,” you couldn’t help but smile a little at his clumsy mannerism, “but am I reading your message right? You want to cancel. Five minutes before our date?”

You looked up at your ceiling staring at the blank color taking in some air, “yeah sorry about that.”

“Did something come up? Did I do something to make you uncomfortable? Did I do something wrong?”

“No. No. Absolutely not,” great now you hated yourself for making him feel this way. “I just…” you closed your eyes head finally swaying down. “I know this may be hard to believe, or it might be easy to believe, I don’t know. But this is my first date.”

“…It’s your first date?”

“Please don’t make fun of me—“

“No of course not, I would never—“

“I already know I’m gonna mess up somehow. I’ll say something wrong or do something really weird,” your eyes roamed the room trying not to break down.

“And we’re going to a classy restaurant. Steven I still order from the kids menu. I barely know how to use a fork for a salad,” you shook your head just picturing how horrible the night is going to go.

The phone was silent and for a moment you were worried you’d lost him.

“I’m in front of your door, can you open it so we can talk face to face, please?”

You pressed your lips together in thought before you went to your front door. And once you opened it you saw those curls and big brown eyes staring at you as his phone was still pressed to his ear.

Bringing the phone down you hung up and he did too, shoving his own back into his jacket pocket. Your eyes drifted down to the small box he had in his hand, no doubt a gift for you.

“Steven thank you for everything but I don’t think—“

“I’m canceling our date.”

“Huh?” That statement got you.

“You don’t have to worry about anything. It’s done it’s cancelled.”

Honestly you did not expect that to happen so easily you expected more of a fight.

“Oh, well thank you and I’m sorry, I was actually really looking forward to it.”

Steven rocked on his feet as you talked. “It’s alright,” he looked to the side, blowing air out of his mouth, “so…got any plans tonight?”

You peered at him curiously.

“Because we could walk around town, just the two of us, no pressure.”

You knew what he was doing and frankly you were sort of grateful for it.

“And by the end of the night we’ll see what we can call it,” he added and you grinned at his proposal.

Nodding you said, “let’s do it,” and Steven grinned back at you. “Oh wait let me grab my things,” you disappear back into your house only to reemerge soon after. And with your bag on your shoulder and the door shut you finally were ready, “let’s go.”

#steven grant fanfiction #steven grant fanfic #steven grant imagine #steven grant x reader #marvel x reader #marvel imagine #marvel fanfiction #marvel fanfic #mcu x reader #mcu imagine #mcu fanfic #mcu fanfiction #moon knight x reader #moon knight imagine #moonknight imagine #moonknight x reader

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sunnyswide · 2 months

Text

Konig HC!

(My personal opinion 0-0)

Heavily using his severe social anxiety and his war experience which seems to be an outlet or place where he can be himself?

Konig- kid/teen/and young adult would totally be wary of you. Even if you seem nice he’d be careful not interacting with you too often from past trauma

Konig- Once warming up to you he’d go out with you more, hang in low social areas, and always stick to your side instead of wandering off in case of talking to anyone

Konig- extremely observant, he probably can sniff out shitty people from a mile away.

Konig- takes your things just to make fun of your height compared to his.

“Want it back Maus?”

“If you don’t I’m going to scream >:( and everyone’s gonna look!”

“You’re such a little girl”

Konig- scoffs at your petty attempts, as you giggle to yourself, proud as hell to know his one weakness. Not knowing by now you’d turn into his weakness

Konig- isn’t a pushover but for you? He’d buy anything- your eyes glitter at a cute plushie?- it’s already in a present wrap in his hands. You want a cute necklace at Tiffanys but you know it’s way too expensive? He’s already putting it around your neck, fumbling at the tiny ass hook.

Konig- starts realizing he stares.. a little too much when it’s just you and him. If you’re just chilling in his massive bed, he just watches your cute expressions change. Your body language and the way you talk, all on the back of his palms. He’s that kind of person who’d be happy with one civilian friend (besides his military buds)

Konig- schedules things around yours, either unconsciously or knowingly, he’s there when you need him.

Konig- when you get too close in the elevator or on the a line he starts overthinkingggg, not knowing what to do with his hands, stuffing them either in his pocket or awkwardly putting them anywhere away from you. Stutters like crazy as you meet him at the front door with your make-up done, outfit on.

Konig-is such a softie to you <3 but to others he just glares them down when they get to rowdy near you. Holds your waist near his when someone tries anything, realizing he’s probably suffocating you when he holds you to his chest. When you look up at him to ask if they’re gone he MELTS. Your adorable, teary eyed expression makes him fall to his knees (mentally)

Konig- dies internally when you finally confess your feelings towards him

“I know.. this might be too soon.. but!.. I really like you. And if you don’t-”

Konig.exe- has stopped working

Konig- snaps back to reality and doesn’t know how to say he’s liked you too so he just picks you up in a bridal carry and takes you to his bedroom to cuddle cause he thinks you should take that as a yes even though you’re still a bit confused cause he does not speak a word the whole cuddle sessions- (and breath out)

#konig x reader #konig headcanons #konig cod #konig call of duty #cod #konig fluff #konig x you #konig x y/n

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daisyblog · 2 months

Text

Wine, Pizza and Never Have I Ever

Unexpected Love Masterlist Summary: Harry and YN’s second date.

It had been two weeks since their first date. Harry had been busy in the studio and YN had been busy with Jacob and in the florist. But despite their busy lives, they had been texting back and forth every moment they could, and on some evenings talking over the phone.

As Jacob was staying at his dad’s that evening, YN and Harry had arranged to see each other again. Due to Jacob being picked up at 6:30pm, YN asked if Harry was happy to have dinner at her place instead.

The sound of the door knocking alerted YN that Jack was here. Opening the door, they smiled at eachother and YN invited Jack in. “Jacob…Daddy’s here!”.

“What are your plans for the weekend? Zara mentioned you were thinking of taking the kids to the beach”. YN asked Jack as they waited for Jacob. Zara is Jack’s fiancée and they have a little boy, Theo who is nearly two.

Jack shrugged his shoulders at the question. “We’re going to let Jakey decide in the morning”. He looked at YN with a suspicious grin. “You’re dressed nice for someone who likes to be in her pyjamas by seven”.

“I fancied a change…is that okay?”. YN laughed knowing how right Jack was. Usually by now she would be in her unmatching pyjama with a messy bun.

Jack continued to stare, until he cracked. “You’ve got a date, haven’t you?”. The big smile on his face was genuine. He’d waited a long time for YN to finally give in and give someone a chance. “Who is he? Do I know him?”.

“Shut up Jack!”. YN could feel the pinkness rush up her neck and land on her cheeks. “It’s just a second date”.

“Second? Second date?”. He continued to question. “You owe me and Zara all the details…oh wait until I tell her!”.

“It’s still early days, but I like him”. YN admitted as they still stood in the hallway. “Why are you smiling like that?”.

“‘Cause I’ve waited for this day forever and I want you to be happy”. Jack couldn’t hide his excitement.

“Daddy!”. Jacob ran his little legs into his father who scooped him up into his arms. “Missed you”.

“I’ve missed you too bud!”. He kissed his cheek in affection. “Give Mummy a kiss and cuddle and let’s go have fun”.

YN cuddled Jacob tightly as she already missed him before he had left. “I love you to the moon and back again”.

“I love you too Mummy”. His sweet voice whispered into her shoulder.

“Go and have fun with Daddy and give Zara and Theo a big cuddle from me okay?”. YN watched as Jacob held Jack’s hand, ready to leave for the weekend.

“You have fun too yeah?”. Jack wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, causing YN to roll her eyes. “Remember we want to know all the details”.

“I love you Jacob…goodbye Jack!” YN put emphasis on the last part as she chuckled to herself.

---

Harry arrived just after 7pm and YN couldn’t believe how someone managed to look so good in an outfit so effortless.

“Hi.” YN greeted him and gestured for him to come in before closing the door behind him.

“Hi”. Harry let out a shy giggle at the sight of seeing YN again. He leaned in gently gave her hug and a peck on the cheek. “You look beautiful”.

“Thank you”. YN blushed at both the peck and compliment. “Come through”. Harry followed YN through another door before they entered what he knew was the lounge area. “I hope you didn’t mind coming here tonight…I just thought it was easier with Jacob being pick-“.

“YN” Harry interrupted with a smile. “It’s fine…I promise”. Harry took a seat next to her on the sofa. “Here I’ve got us a bottle of wine”.

“Oh something old and red.” YN rose from her seat as she looked at the bottle. “I’ll go and get some glasses for us”. She walked to the kitchen. She felt like she needed to keep herself busy, to ease the nerves.

“You know your wine”. Harry showed his dimples as he fidgeted in his seat. He watched as YN walked through to what he assumed was the kitchen.

He looked around trying to learn more about YN, when he saw a photo on the sideboard he went for a closer look. Harry pointed YN out straight away as she smiled loudly for the camera. She held a little boy in her arms, who he naturally thought was Jacob. But he wondered who the other people in the photo were.

“I’ve got two glasses and some nibbles for us” YN disturbed Harry’s as she placed the glasses and some bowls with snacks in on the coffee table in front of the sofa.

“Uh sorry…I was being a bit nosey”. Harry got himself into a fluster, as he placed the photo frame back in its original place.

YN shook her head as Harry sat back down next to her, taking a sip of his glass. “You can look, it’s fine”. YN took a sip from her own glass.

“Is the little boy you’re holding, Jacob?”. Harry couldn’t help but ask, he knew it was because he could see they had the same eyes that crinkled when they smile.

YN glanced over at the photo. “Yeah it’s Jacob”. She smiled at Harry. “The man and woman is actually Jacob’s Dad and his fiancée and their little boy, Theo”.

YN tried to read Harry’s reaction, but for once she couldn’t. “It’s a lovely photo”. He complimented.

“I know it probably seems strange…me having the photo but-“. YN began to justify herself, feeling her throat close a bit with nerves. Her voice wobbled a bit has she began to defend herself.

“Hey” Harry’s voice was gentle as he reached over and touched her hand. “It’s okay…you don’t need to explain yourself to me…my first thought was that’s how blended families should be”.

“M’sorry…it’s just people have told me it’s strange that Jack and I still get on…and that me and Zara are friends”. YN explained as she looked down at Harry’s hand that was still on hers.

“Do you want to know what I think?”. YN nodded. “I think you need to stop believing what other people think, and actually be proud of yourself for putting Jacob first and being able to co-parent”.

YN smiled at his words because she knew he was right, she cared too much about what others thought. “Okay…when do I start to see your flaws?”. She joked as she nudged his shoulder playfully.

Harry let out a laugh, his smile wide and his eyes crinkled. “What do you mean?”.

“You just seem to perfect for me…me being a Mum doesn’t bother you…me getting on with my ex and his partner is fine too…you just seem too good to be true”. Harry laughed at YN’s teasing, rubbing his finger under his nose as he did.

Harry shrugged his shoulders. “I’d like to think I’m quite humble…I mean my Mum was a single Mum when I was growing up and we would see my Dad on the weekend…so I think I just get it”:

“Well tell your Mum she raised a one of kind”. Harry took YN’s compliment because he knew his Mum was the kindest woman he knew.

“Shall I order us pizza?”.

---

It was later in the evening and YN and Harry were both a couple of glasses in, and full from sharing a large pizza. The effect of the wine was starting to show as they both became extra giggly and Harry’s hand now rested on YN’s knee as they both leaned towards each other.

“Okay…never have I ever gone skinny-dipping?” YN asked and they both took a sip from their glass. “Spill!”.

Harry let out a chuckle at YN wanting to know details. “Uh…I was on tour with the band…and one night me and a few of the boys thought it would be funny to sneak down to the pool, and go skinny dipping”.

“Did you get caught?”. YN asked as she leaned her head on her hand against the top of the sofa.

“Only by our security…but they just laughed at us and told us to go back to our rooms”. Harry recited the memory. “What about you?”.

“It was when I was in uni…we went on a trip to the beach and we were playing a game…and our team lost and that was the consequence…quite boring actually”. YN laughed at how plain her story sounded.

“Next one…never have I ever…been walked in on whilst having sex”. Harry asked but his drink stayed in place. But YN brought hers up to her lips to take a sip. “Really?”.

“Yes…it was so embarrassing!”. YN shivered at the memory of Jack’s older brother walking in at an awkward time. “Moving on…never have I ever joined the mile high club”. YN watched as Harry took a drink from his glass, a slight smirk on his face. “I always imagined it would be cramped”.

“Well I mean…depends on the plane…if it’s a private plane then you’ve got enough room”. They both laughed, the alcohol taking over. “Never have I ever..” Harry thought of another question. “Wanted to kiss someone in this room”.

Harry knew it was a bold move, he knew it could go either way but with the alcohol in his system and how close they were sitting, he took the risk. The way YN stared at him, he thought he may have ruined the moment but as he moved his glass up to his lips, YN mimicked his movement.

YN gently took his glass from his hands and placed them both on the table. “Maybe we should do something about that”.

Harry was in awe when she made the first move and placed her lips on his. He could taste a mixture of red wine mixed with strawberry lipstick, as their lips moved heavily against the others. Harry pulled her closer so she was straddling him, both looking for closeness.

YN moved her hands so they rested just below Harry’s neck. Harry’s one hand found familiarity on her thigh, whilst the other rested against her cheek. Their lips remained eager to get to know the other and their hands wanted to follow suit but nerves still remained present.

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wasawattpadkid · 1 year

Text

Housewife

Part - 8

Summery: Billy and Stu have been planning these murders for quite some time. Everything is going to plan until you show up. What happens when they meet someone who is just as mentally deluded as they are?

Pairing: poly!ghostface x fem!reader

Warnings for this series: ⚠️graphic⚠️ murder, blood, smut (will be more in depth on smut chapters), power dynamics, a dash of sexism, knives, stalking, perverse behavior, cheating, canon typical violence, guns, suicide,

Part 1

"Can this skirt go any lower?" You tugged at the fabric. "It can but any lower and your bush is likely to show." Tatum laughed fixing the skirt back where she had it. "Yeah no. I'm not wearing this. It doesn't fit anyways." She rolled her eyes grabbing your bell bottoms. "Okay then, wear these again but I'm going to pick out a shirt." Sydney was already changed. She was busy fixing her hair while you and Tatum fought over clothes. "Here." You changed into your pants and put on the crop top Tatum gave you. "Oh yeah this is 10 times better. Wait." She rummaged through her jewelry box handing you a gold chain necklace.

You pulled it on over your head and she just laughed. "No. Give it to me." She wrapped it around your exposed waist latching it behind you. "There, it's a belly chain." Of course she would have something with a name like that. "Now just fix your hair and we'll be ready to go." You walked into the bathroom with Sydney giving her a look. "Honestly you look really cute. Tatum likes to be a little over the top." She couldn't have warned you earlier? "Thanks." You quickly fixed your hair to the best of your ability.

Your lipgloss was sticky and your purse was light on your shoulder. Dewy looked you up and down quickly looking away when he realized what he was doing. "You kids ready?" He said as he looked around the room. "Let's go party!" Tatum shouted pulling you and Sydney to the car. Dewy barley had time to grab his keys. "Please don't drink too much tonight mom would flip if she found out." Tatum sighed. "I know Dewy thank you."

Dewy dropped you and your friends off at the grocery store leaving you to pick up some food. "Hey can you go grab the cheese dip?" Tatum asked you. "Sure thing." You walked through the store not sure where anything was. Hell you didn't even know what kind of cheese dip she wanted. You grabbed a random one hoping it would do the trick. "This work?" You met the two at the end of the isle. "Perfect." She sat the can in the cart along with other snacks. "Anything else?"

Once everything was paid for Dewy drove you and your friends to familiar house of Stu Macher. "Don't have too much fun." He said as you all jumped out bags in hand. "There's a lot of people here." You said a little anxious. "This is nothing you should've been at the pool party he threw sophomore year." The front door was wide open letting anyone in. You looked around the crowded house of inebriated teenagers. Tatum and Sydney walked with purpose towards the kitchen.

"Oh that's mature." Tatum said watching her boyfriend hold up a funnel that another boy was chugging a beer from. "You're late. The party's done started without you. My man." He high-fived the boy as he stood up. Sydney and Tatum shook their head with a laugh. "Damn I didn't know who you were for a second. Tatum you didn't say you were bringing Barbie to the party." Stu eyed you up and down but it made you feel gross. This outfit wasn't you and "Barbie" is not the nickname you unfortunately grew fond of.

"She cleans up nice doesn't she?" Tatum said proud of her work. "Hand me a beer." You said making Stu's smile fall just a bit. He knew he couldn't break character not when every little thing counted tonight. "One beer coming up." He turned grabbing an unopened bottle on the counter passing it to you. "You'll need this." He pitched you the bottle opener letting you pop the lid yourself. "Is Billy here?" Sydney asked looking at the crowd. "I sent him on a beer run so he'll be late." Sydney nodded deciding to find the nearest couch.

You took a swig of the disgusting liquid trying not to make a face. "Is it good sweetheart?" Stu teased knowing you'd never drank before. "It's great thanks." You said hoping to drink a couple more of those and speed up the night. Tatum soon dragged Stu away leaving you standing in the kitchen. "You're that chick that wears all that I love Lucy shit to school right?" Some asshole asked making you take a big swig of the fermented liquid. It was going to be a long ass night.

An hour passed with no sign of who you thought were your friends. The kitchen had cleared leaving you with a bunch of empty beer bottles that weren't yours. You were barley able to finish the one. "There you are I've been looking all over for ya." Your eyes were closed in all honesty they burned too much to stay open. Stu looked at your sleeping form quickly rewriting the plan. "Y/n?" He poked and shook you but you didn't utter a word praying for him to just leave you alone. "Works for me." He threw you over his shoulder similar to how he picked up Tatum earlier that day. Your purse strap drug into your neck as he held you upside down. All the kids were too excited to notice your limp body being carried around by the host. Quickly he laid you in the coat closet in a what he assumed was a drunken stupor.

It was a better idea than you getting hit in his book. He would hate if something actually bad happened to you. Stu shut the door and checked the time. "All right everybody curfew!" Stu shouted ushering everyone out of the home. "Tatum come on!" Sydney yelled to an almost empty house. "Do you know where she is?" Stu shrugged. "Nah I haven't seen her." Billy appeared at the front door on schedule. "Hmm what are you doing here?" Stu said his acting wasn't winning him any awards. "I was hoping I could talk to Syd alone."

"I'll tell you what why don't you guys go up to my parents room. You can talk or whatever." Stu clapped his hands suggestively. "Subtlety Stu you should look it up." Billy shook his head at his eager friend. Stu bit his lip in anticipation. "No, no he's right. We do need to talk." Sydney said holding out her hand. As Billy walked in he hit Stu in the groin playfully. "Ooh." Stu said in pain. Time went on, Tatum was still no where to be seen almost forgotten while Sydney and Billy holed up in the room upstairs. Stu laid out watching Halloween with some stragglers from the party.

Randy stood up pausing the movie. "There are rules to surviving a horror movie." He went on with his rant the crowd getting rowdy ever so often. "Alright I'm getting another beer you want one?" He asked randy as he walked towards the kitchen. "Yeah sure." Slowly Stu opened his eyes wide about to piss Randy off. "I'll be right back!" He said those forbidden words making everyone shout. "See you push the laws and you end up dead. Okay I'll see you in the kitchen with a knife." Randy proclaimed. Stu had no intention on going back into the living room.

Upstairs Billy started to put his shirt back on. "You okay?" He asked Sydney not really caring about her answer. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine." She grabbed a hairbrush from the night stand brushing out her hair. "Where's the beer?" She asked as she pulled on her shoes. "What?" Billy asked fixing his shirt. "Well Stu said you were late to the party because he told you to go get beer. I was just wondering where it was because when I saw you, you were empty handed." Billy tied his shoes thinking of a quick answer. "I dropped it off in the garage."

Sydney shook her head to herself not believing him. "You don't think I'm the killer do you?" She breathed out a laugh turning to look at him. "No. I just think the timing is funny thats all. For you to show up at my place after Casey was murdered would be a pretty good alibi. Running out go murder people just to show up here with me after the fact. It would be smart that's all." Billy's eyes were hollowed of emotion as he starred at the woman he so despised. "Really?" His voice was flat different than just seconds ago. Slowly he stood up leaning on the bed with his hands. "What do I have to do to prove to you I'm not a killer?" His whole demeanor scared Sydney. "Oh my God." She said as everything seemed to make sense.

Sydney glanced up seeing the killer slowly come up behind Billy. "Huh?" He asked growing impatient. "Oh my God." She backed away terrified. "Sydney." Billy pleaded. "Billy watch out!" She cried watching her boyfriend get stabbed to death by the masked man. Sydney sobbed as Billy reached his bloody hand out whispering her name with what little air he had left. Ghostface chased after her all through the upstairs of the house. Luckily for the man under the mask it was his home. He knew the layout better than anyone. Sydney opened up the attic window screaming for help. She climbed through praying for someone to save her.

Ghostface grabbed her arm causing her to fall back off the roof and onto the boat. The wind was knocked out of her from the fall. As fast as she could Sydney rolled of the boat onto the ground. Looking up she could see her friend Tatum, hanging bludgeoned and bloody from the garage door. She couldn't bring herself to scream at the sight all she knew was she needed to run. Ghostface disappeared from the window running downstairs to see the coat closet door open with you no longer in it.

"Fuck." He cursed running outside to find Sydney. She had jumped into the news van screaming at the man inside that a killer was chasing her. The camera man stood with the door open waiting for the hidden camera placed by the News reporter to catch up showing where ghostface had went. As he turned around to look towards the house ghostface slit his throat like a warm knife through butter. Sydney screamed trying to shut the door but the man in the mask was faster. The hunting knife now wiped clean by the hygiene conscious killer stabbed the girls shoulder making her cry out.

Quickly she crawled through the van leaving ghostface behind. Dewy and the reporter ran towards the commotion hoping to help whomever needed it. Dewy wanted to save the day while his date wanted the notoriety from it. "Gale use the phone in the van and call for backup. I'm going inside." He said like a selfless hero not knowing what horrors awaited him inside. Gale saw the pool of blood quickly realizing she was in one of the many stories she's exploited. Without much thought she jumped in the driver's seat grabbing the phone.

"What's going on?" Randy asked being met with a phone to the face. She hit him several times till he eventually fell to the ground nose broken and bloody. She threw the phone starting the van instead. If she was saving anyone, it was going to be herself. Blood covered the windshield blocking the view of the road. Turning on the windshield wipers she gasped at the gorey scene. As she drove the car hitting the breaks, the body of her camera man slowly fell into view. She scream trying to fling him from the car. Just as he hit the ground Sydney ran out screaming bloody murder.

The van spun out of control off into the grass hitting a tree head on. Without checking on the driver Sydney ran back towards the house. Her screams stopped once she understood no one could hear her but the killer. She had lost all her friends. Billy, Tatum, and presumably you. She watched as Dewy stood at the front door. "Dewy!" She yelled thankful to have someone help fight off death himself. "Sydney?" He asked as he fell to the floor. The same hunting knife sticking from his back. "No, No!" She screamed watching ghostface pull the knife from his back.

Running back she shut herself into Dewy's car. Hitting a button to lock all the doors. Sydney searched for a key but it was nowhere to be found. Turning to her left she saw the killer shake the keys taunting her. He dropped to the ground out of eyesight. The doors all unlocked at once leaving her to quickly manually lock them back. Seeing the radio on the dash she grabbed the mic clicking the button on. "Hello! Help me please I'm at Stu Macher's house on turner lane. That's 261 turner lane please he's gonna kill me-"

Ghostface grabbed her by the neck but Sydney quickly flipped around kicking him repeatedly. She fell out of the car running to grab Dewy's gun. "Sydney!" Randy screamed. "Sydney, Jesus we need to get the fuck out of here!" She cocked the gun ready to fire if need be. "Stop right there!" Her words were deadly. Stu came from the left gaining up on the limping Randy. "It's him Syd." Stu said distraught. "He killed Billy, you killed my friend!" Randy inched closer making Sydney back up into the open house. "You did." Randy said and Stu yelled back "You killed him!" Stu cried.

"I didn't." Randy defended himself as Stu threw him to the gravel. "Sydney baby please give me that gun. Give me the gun it's him I swear." Stu cried with outreached arms. "Fuck you both!" She spit as she slammed the door in their faces. Stu and Randy beat on the door trying to convince Sydney to open it. "Go away!" She sobbed. Billy crawled to the steps in pain. "Syd?" She gasped as her boyfriend fell down the steps. "Oh my God!" She helped him up as he mumbled almost incoherently.

Billy inched his way to the door. "No the killer's out there!" Sydney warned. "Give me the gun. Give me the gun it's okay." His voice was clearer now lacking the debilitating pain that was evident moments ago. "It's okay." He whispered taking the gun from his girlfriend. He opened the door letting Randy run in. "Woah woah get in." He said looking around outside before shutting the door. "Stu's flipped out. He's gone mad." Randy said scared out of his mind. "We all go a little mad sometimes." Billy delivered his line shooting Randy for dramatic effect.

Sydney cried running to Randy's aid. Scratching his head with the barrel of the gun Billy spoke. "Anthony Perkins, Psycho." Sydney stood up looking at the stranger she's known for years. Sucking the fake blood from his finger tip he smiled. "Corn syrup, the same stuff they used for pigs blood in Carrie." The tired girl stumbled backwards mumbling small protests trying to tell herself this wasn't real.

Stu stood in the doorway to the kitchen looking just as upset as Sydney. She covered her face next to his chest seeking refuge. "Stu... Help me please." She pleaded. Slowly he revealed that little box that has helped end so many lives. "Surprise Sydney."

It was freezing outside but you've been through worse. Slowly you crept around the house trying to find a way in. The front door was opened a brunette walking slowly into the house. You watched as she quietly picked up the gun sitting on the counter. "I'm feeling woozy here!" Stu said in distress having more life threatening wounds than his partner. Billy and Stu turned towards the sound of a pained gasp. They watched as Gale Weathers and the gun hit the floor. "Y/n?" Stu asked as you stared shocked at what you'd just done. "She was going to shoot you."

"Y/n please help they're crazy!" Sydney cried out. "You had one fucking job Stu!" Billy yelled. "Give me the knife Y/n and I won't hurt you." Billy watched the facade fall. Like a scene in a play, the act was over. "Are you serious? You won't hurt me?" Both the boys were obviously confused not knowing what to do next. "Billy Loomis. You really don't remember me do you?" He cocked his head to the side not wanting to do this right now. "I'm not playing your silly game-" You picked up the gun switching the safety off.

"Shut the fuck up. I'm done hearing you talk. Bossing people around thinking you know everything. You don't know shit." Stu looked genuinely scared while Billy was just amused. "Middle school was hell for me. I was being beat up and mistreated every, fucking, day. Until one day you stood up for me. Broke the assholes nose who was trying to pull off my shirt, do you remember that?" His eyes lit up remembering that day very vividly. That was the first time he had ever hit someone. "I fell in love with you that second. You cared about me enough to stop the endless cycle of hate that was putting me on the fast track to an early death."

"I didn't even know you. Any guy would stop something like that." You laughed at that. "You'd be surprised. The teachers I came crying to didn't give two shits, my own fucking family told me just to "stand up for myself or grow a backbone" and things like this wouldn't happen. Is it so wrong to need someone's help?" Stu shook his head as if you were directing this whole thing towards him. "Do you remember what you did the week afterwards?" You asked Billy.

His brain frantically searched for some semblance of a memory. "No I don't." He replied honestly. "Well before school started I walked up to you and your friends. I told you that I liked you and wanted to take you out sometime. The old fashioned way. Your friends laughed because they knew me as the push over slut bag everyone took me for. But you." You pushed the gun forward gritting your teeth. The pain of it all coming right back to you like it happened yesterday. "You were different, you stood up for people. You were a hero, my hero. So what did you do? You saw your friends laughing and felt embarrassed. You laughed in my face calling me a "crazy bitch.""

"And you're not?" Billy snapped feeling like a fly caught in a web. You laughed. "What does all this make you Einstein. News flash you're not Norman Bates. You're just a man. That's scarier than every monster on the screen." You paced back and forth never taking an eye off anyone in the room. "Just give this up the cops are on their way I called them." Sydney cried making both the boys panic. "Did you check the cord to the radio Syd? I cut it after you took a little hike. Anyways where was I?" You tapped the tip of the knife in your other hand to your chin in thought. Sydney spewed curse words at you but you had bigger fish to fry.

"That's right. You laughed but that wasn't enough for you, no. You told your friends you slept with me and they told their friends, eventually everyone knew me as a whore. Funny thing is I had never done a sinful thing in my life. I was just a kid who wanted someone to care about me! To protect me in a way I couldn't protect myself." Tears fell from your eyes but you weren't crying. "I left my grandparents house moving away with my dad. It wasn't until I saw the headline "local woman murdered viciously in Woodsboro" that I came up with a plan."

Sydney hung her head loudly sobbing. "I saw a picture of You and Sydney and it all came back to me. You were good once Billy I could see that from the moment I met you but something rotted inside of you and don't you dare blame it on her or her mother." You pointed towards Sydney. "I dyed my hair, changed the way I dressed, the way I talked, the movies I liked, everything I made specifically for you. And it worked! Your sorry ass fell for it. Everything you thought you knew about me was a lie."

"You called Sydney..." Stu said in astonishment. This should scare him but it didn't in the slightest. Stu realized he had been looking up to the wrong person all along. "I did! That night at my house I put Zolpidem in your food. You two were too busy staring at my ass to notice. While you were both dead asleep I used the voice box I stole from Stu's home Wednesday night to call Sydney. Oh but how did I know about your little plan you ask? Well while I was roaming through your house that night I found the ghostface costumes and your little voice boxes. And Stu baby, you had your whole plan written down in your diary."

Billy's eyes widened with rage. "Don't look at him like that Loomis." You snapped at the boy grabbing his attention once again. "This is about you and me. All I wanted was to take care of you and when I found out you and Stu were a package deal I was down for double the chores. Cooking, cleaning, sewing, the works. I thought we could be our own fucked up nuclear family. But you can't do a damn thing right. I've got yet another mess to clean up." You gestured around to the blood splattered kitchen.

"Like I said before men are cocky. They go in and they play around. So I'll give you a choice Billy. You can finish this." You waved the gun at Sydney and her father causing her to cry out begging you to stop. "Sydney this has nothing to do with me. I'm here on personal business. Now either take care of this and we three walk out of here alive or I'll take care of it and be the sole survivor of the Woodsboro massacre."

"You're one sick bitch you know that?" Billy spat as he picked up his knife. "Yeah well we all have our flaws." You look over at Stu watching him go in and out of consciousness. "Stu get up and come with me honey." Slowly the injured man limped over to you. "I'm going to check his wounds. Don't think you're smarter than me cause you're not. Finish what you started." You walked Stu into the living room sitting him down on the couch. The sounds of Sydney's screams piercing your eardrums. You lifted his shirt seeing how many stabs wounds he had and where. "Why are you doing this?"

"Love makes you do crazy things Stuart. Now, most of these wounds should be fine but the one by your stomach looks really deep so I want you to put pressure on it." Sydney's screams stopped as you continued to help Stu. "I want you to know what you did here tonight was really fucking stupid." You said a little disappointed in your easily manipulated friend. Stu started crying pulling you into a bloody hug. "I just wanted to start over." You knew how that felt. "We will." You whispered as you pulled away. "Keep putting pressure." You reminded as you stood up.

Walking back into the kitchen you saw Sydney's lifeless body. "Okay before you kill him," You pointed towards the tied up man. "You need his DNA under her finger nails. Did she scratch you at all?" Billy shook his head. You leaned down grabbing her hand forcing her nails across her father's skin. "She doesn't look like she put up a fight." Billy quipped acting like a detective all of a sudden. "The moment she saw it was her father she would put her guard down a little thinking she could somehow talk him out of it. This is fine, take care of him and I'll make sure she's dead." You walked towards Gale hearing her ragged breath. "I'm sorry. I couldn't let you hurt them." You apologized before stabbing her once more.

Billy smiled at the words you thought he couldn't hear. He thought you were crazy and you certainly were but you were crazy for him. You could've turned them both in and saved yourself some time yet here you were helping out. Not cause your sick and love to kill. But because you loved them. You were protecting them, the one thing you wanted for yourself that's why you were so mad.

"Give me the gun and leave I don't want you to see this." You laughed rasing your voice slightly to ask Stu a question. "Stu, honey where do you keep your dish towels?" Stu answered with what little energy he had left. "Thanks." You walked over the corpse in the floor grabbing a red colored dish cloth. The gun was soon wiped clean of your finger prints. "Prop him up in the corner when you do it, make sure to keep the towel around the gun when you fire. After that put it in his grip. Do you know if he's right handed or left?" Billy just looked at you stupid making you face palm.

"Which wrist is his watch on?" Billy crouched rolling the man over as he yelled against duck tape. "Left." Billy stood back up waiting for your directions. "Okay so he's right handed. Don't fuck this up Billy." You handed him the gun wrapped in the rag. "We don't have much time. Speed this up." You stood waiting for him to finish it. "Please leave. Just go watch Stu. I don't want you to see this." You didn't understand the change in heart considering the amount of blood on every surface in this house and the body laying at your feet. Billy however actually listened to what you said. You'd never been taken care of and he was going to right his wrongs. He would fix this.

Stu would get his sequel, rom com or not and you would get the security you always wanted. "Okay but don't pull any shit or I'll kill you." Billy laughed at an incredibly inappropriate time. "Understood." You walked into the room with Stu noticing he was asleep. "Fuck. Wake up babe." You shook the boy slowly getting a response. "Hey come on I'm going to take you outside the cold air might help you stay away." Stu mumbled a response as you dragged him outside.

Stu jumped at the sudden gunshot making him cry once more. Blood loss sure does make a person emotional. "Hey, hey, shh. I'm right here." His head rested on your chest as you rocked him back and forth. "My mom and dad are gonna be so mad at me." He cried and you giggled. "Nobody's going to find out. It's okay." Billy stepped outside looking at the two of you huddled together. "Y/n?"

"Yeah what's up?" You asked laying Stu down on the porch. "I need help cleaning some stuff up." That's what you were good at. Quickly you got rid of some evidence, cleaned some things, and now came time for more blood. "The rags around it just stab me right here." You pointed to the spot knowing it wouldn't do much damage. Billy held your knife with a now shaky hand. "I can't." You scoffed. "You threatened to hurt me earlier just do it." He shook his head. "I can't hurt you." This conversation was starting to piss you off. "That's bullshit you've hurt me before just fucking stab me already."

"I won't." He said through gritted teeth. "You said everyone has a reason for doing something. I had my reasons for killing whether you think they're bullshit or not is irrelevant. I've got a reason to change now, to be better." You rolled your eyes grabbing the wrapped knife. "Where did you get that thing anyway?" Billy asked pointing to the exact same knife they had. "I just bought the same one that Stu had stashed at his place. It fit in my purse so the rest is history." You held the knife where you wanted it before running right into a wall lodging the knife deep within your skin. "Mother fucker!" You screamed at the pain.

"Why the fuck would you do that?" He said shocked by what just happened. "We've got to convince everyone we are the victims. Neil is a big guy he's killing everyone I'm not an exception." Billy cursed under his breath. "You are the smartest dumb woman I've ever met." Billy pulled the knife from your side making you cry out and hit the floor. Billy's hand rested on your forehead not really sure how to comfort you. "Just breathe?" He asked making you laugh through the pain. "I'm not in labor asshat go put his fingerprints on the knives while I call 911." Billy didn't move. "Now." You said trying to lift yourself up. He stood helping you up to your feet.

Billy laid the one weapon next to Sydney making sure to put Neil's finger prints on it. While the other fit in his pocket. "Now go lay somewhere and don't fall asleep. After all of this you can't die on me." You told him as you picked up the phone. "911 what's-" You coughed into the phone cutting the woman off. "Please help me!" You cried making it sound like you didn't have much time left. "What's your location ma'am?" Fuck you didn't know Stu's address but then again why would you. "I don't know... I- I went to a party with my friends and everyone's dead." You cried throwing in moans of pain. "Are there any mailboxes or road signs around?"

"I've been stabbed..." You said quietly actually getting light headed. "Ma'am I need you to stay with me is there a mailbox or road sign around?" She repeated being absolutely useless. You thought back to when you met them for the first time. Things were simple then. The drive over with Stu laughing and cracking jokes, and Billy spent the whole ride brooding trying not to laugh at your jokes. You could barley remember the bent up road side. "Turner lane." You said as you dropped the phone landing right beside it. "Ma'am? Ma'am are you there?"

Billy laid in the kitchen floor just a little away from the two corpses. As he looked up at the ceiling his body started to ache even more now that the adrenaline was wearing off. He had been selfish he realized that now. Billy had two wonderful people who loved and cared for him and he did nothing but use the both of you. He was going to change he swore on it. That sickening feeling of fear crept into his stomach once again at the thought of something happening to you or Stu. You may have lied to him. One could say he didn't know the real you at all. You were a first for Billy, you were the first person to scare him, the first person to stand up to him, and the first person he truly wanted to save.

(If your name has a line through it Tumblr wouldn't let me tag you.)

Part 9

Taglist: @katie-tibo @agustdeeyaa @bowlofceral @gonnapermashift @tati-the-fangirl @kozumewhore @tatijoestar @illyanam1011 @c4rved-pumpk1n @msghostface @gojosbucket @sammanna @lokigirlszendaya @reneki @fetusharryluvr @kadu-5607 @pumpk1n-writes @lovekeeho @tojisblood @zeysartzone @bluedevilss @life-of-music3 @flyestvenustrap @littleblondesoprano @imobsessedreader @loomiscorpse @nicciekawegosblog @reneemunson @miss-puregotti @ksgsfsgaj @zoleea-exultant @briefwinnerpersonaturtle @mistydreamscape @l4venderia @nex-crowley @ashreblogsnow @brynaa223 @your-desire666

#billy loomis #scream #ghostface #billy loomis x reader #ghostface x reader #poly!ghostface #scream 1996 #scream fanfic #scream fanfiction #scream x reader #ghostface x female reader #stu ghostface #billy loomis ghostface #billy loomis masterlist #stu macher fluff #stu macher x reader #stu macher

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xoitadori · 5 months

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→ HYPOCRITE [ part one ] ⸺ itadori. y ۵

۵ contains - fluff, angst, mentions of blood, mentions of fighting, body shaming, bullying, enemy!yuuji/bully!yuuji, mature language, physical violence, physical touch, mentions of fire, alcohol use, AFAB!reader.

۵ summary - you and Yuuji go to the same high school, as well in the past, attending the same middle school. Yuuji was a golden boy growing up, favourited by many teachers and students. in middle school, he never picked on you or bullied you, more so, just ignored you, but now.. in your senior and last year of high school, all he does is tease you. teases you for not being as bright and like-minded as he is, or as popular. he teases you every chance he gets, but when it comes to others treating you the same, he gets.. violent.

AN HOUR BEFORE -

۵ you had been invited to a bonfire, hosted by Todo Aoi, a friend of Yuuji. since you never attended any of the parties he hosted, your friends, Maki and Nobara insisted that you’d go.

you weren’t too big on things like this. you’d rather just stay home and study, like you usually did, but you felt left out, since everyone in your grade was attending, you did too.

you showed up in a simple cotton sweater and sweatpants. yes, your outfit was lazy, but it was cold out, and you didn’t wanna freeze, no matter how you looked or what you had on.

and here you were, sitting with the popular kids in your grade, looking so out of place, so uncomfortable. it was mostly jocks and their girlfriends, making out against trees, drinking, pissing in any bush they found for fun, the usual.

you sat in between Todo and Noritoshi, sitting on a wood log that almost dug into the soft and thick sweatpants you had on. your legs bounced with anxiety as you heard the soft breaths of both of the boys beside you.

Yuuji sat across from you. fuck, you tried not to make eye contact with him, especially when there was a drunk girl fawning over him and playing with his hair right in front of you.

I bet he enjoyed seeing you so uncomfortable, watching your eyes rise and fall over his muscular body. he made eye contact with you once, and held it for a little while, before you were interrupted by Todo, staring you down, obviously judging you.

“this is a bonfire, and you wore that?” he teased, shaking his head as he looked you up and down. all of the girls were wearing more revealing clothes, showing off their cleavage. but you weren’t like that, you never dressed like that, and as Yuuji sipped his beer, he knew that, too.

“I-it’s cold.. I didn’t wanna get sick.” you heard laughter around you as you spoke up, looking at Todo as he leaned in close to you, a look of disgust on his face as he eyed you up and down. “no wonder you’re wearing oversized clothing,” his lips formed into a twisted smirk. “you’re a lot fatter than a little bit ago, huh? maybe you should slow down on the food, fatty.” Todo laughed, shaking his head in disbelief as he sipped his beer, beginning to speak with the rest of the students.

you hated feeling humiliated. your eyes watered as you kept your head down, not wanting anyone to look or see you. every single student was laughing at you, except for one, unexpected student.

you heard beer glass shatter, hearing the movement of body shifting and standing up, as well as the fire cracking with every second.

“fuck is your problem, Aoi?” Yuuji spoke up, standing as his eyebrows furrowed in fury, his fists curled and tight against his body.

Todo stopped laughing, turning and looking up at Yuuji nervously, his face filled with confusion.

“it’s just a little joke, like we always do, yeah? besides, you know she doesn’t take it seriously-“

“she doesn’t take it seriously? are you fucking mental? she’s crying, you dickhead!” Yuuji shouted, his voice hoarse with emotion.

Todo stood up, the crowd around them gasped. if Todo spoke another word that Yuuji didn’t like, he’d be pinned to the ground and beaten to a pulp.

“you act like you don’t say the same shit all the time. what the fuck man?” Todo grunted, standing straight in front of Yuuji, both of them eying each other down.

you kept your head down. you knew people were staring at you, whispering and gossiping about what’s happening.

“we’re really doing this, huh? because you can’t take a simple joke??” Todo laughed, shoving Yuuji with very little strength.

Todo was twice the size of Yuuji. he was buff, muscular, and tall, but when it came to disrespect, Yuuji didn’t care who it was he fought, he’d always win. (nah I’d win 😂)

you finally raised your head when you heard a loud thud against someone’s cheek, the sound of a fist hitting skin. Yuuji punched Todo straight into his mouth.

Todo coughed, moving his hand to his mouth, licking the blood from his lips. “alright then.” he muttered. they began to tussle, punching and fighting as the surrounding crowd cheered each one of them on. your eyes widened.

you didn’t get it. Yuuji teased you all the time, the same way, but.. he had a problem with Todo doing it?

blood splattered into the fire as they fought. Yuuji had managed to get him onto the grass, his knuckles bruised and beaten, he didn’t care. no matter if he was hurt or not, he’d still keep going and going until the victim of his fists really got his message.

you stood up. Yuuji heard your movement, turning and looking at you, your eyes wide. he stood over Todo, who was curled in a ball from pain. your eyes watered. why was he doing this?

“I don’t wanna hear about this from any body. mind your fucking business.” he looked straight at you, but was speaking to everyone around you. Todo grunted on the ground as Yuuji began to grab his car keys, sipping from an already opened beer bottle, chucking it into a nearby bush.

students ran and surrounded Todo, helping him sit up. you weren’t worried about him, he didn’t deserve it. you were worried about Yuuji and why he got so angry. the look in his eyes, it was like his primal instinct to defend you.

NOW -

you followed Yuuji back to his family home. was it sort of weird to do this in the middle of the night? yeah. yeah it was, but you didn’t care. he humiliated you, nonetheless, is a big fucking hypocrite.

since you biked to the bonfire, you biked to the Itadori house as well.

you parked your bike at the front of the house, running up to the front door. you heard shouting and yelling, a woman and a man’s voice.

you knocked on the door with eagerness, sweat running down your forehead. suddenly, the wide marble door opened, and you made eye contact with Yuuji’s father, Jin.

“is your son here?” your eyes were wide as you looked at Jin, breathing erratically.

“yes.. who are you?”

“a friend.” you gulped, breathing heavy as you fidgeted with your fingers. “I’m worried about him.. can I see him?”

and now, here you stood, in front of Yuuji’s bedroom door, gulping as you reached to open his door, hands shaking. you didn’t know what to expect, what to see, what to hear. you were as nervous as ever.

your hand made contact with the handle as you opened the door, slipping into his bedroom. it was dark, no light source except for the moonlight shining through his rectangular windows. his house was nice.. especially his room, that was barely even visible to you right now.

suddenly, a light flicked on in the corner of your left eye, making your body jump slightly. you turned, your eyes burning into his back, his bare, muscular back. muscles tensing as he shifted, his undercut visible with the tiniest bit of light. he was standing in front of his mirror, staring at himself. you gulped, continuing to stare.

“how did you get in here?” he grunted, obviously upset with the idea of you being here, and seeing him like this.

“your dad let me in.” you spoke up, watching as Yuuji rolled his shoulders, not bothering to turn and face you. a soft breeze came through the window between both of you.

“did he, now? well, apparently I’m asking the wrong question.” Yuuji’s voice was empty, not like how he was with Todo, no, no he wasn’t angry.. he was cold.

his body turned and looked at you, the cuts and blood more visible for you to see. “why are you here, y/n?” your eyebrows furrowed in confusion and anger.

“I wanna know what that was about.”

“what are you talking about?”

“you know what I’m talking about.” you frowned, feeling deeply hurt that he tried to act dumb after doing what he had done.

Yuuji sighed, rolling his eyes as he began to walk closer and closer to you, now standing right in front of you. “Todo was being a dick, so I dealt with him.”

“he did the same things you do.”

“so?”

“so that means he’s a dick and you’re not?”

“because that’s different. I’m not him.”

“no, you’re right, you aren’t him, you’re worse.”

“really?” Yuuji raised his eyebrows, a smug smirk on his face as he leaned down towards your face, his soft breath tickling your cheek. “what, do you think you’re special or some shit because I defended you? you’re quite delusional for a smartie pants, huh?”

“what makes you think that I think I’m special?”

“showing up uninvited. acting like my fuckin’ girlfriend and shit.” his dark, honey almond eyes narrowed as he stared you down, pissed with your lack of sense. “why do you have to be so damn clueless all the time?” he grunted, walking past you, his thick shoulder hitting yours.

he reached into his drawers, grabbing a shirt.

“I don’t want you here, get out.” he grabbed a thin, soft grey shirt, focusing on getting it on his body, his eyes away from you.

you bounced your leg, looking straight at him with determination. you were gonna crack him whether he liked it or not.

“no. I’m not leaving.” you crossed your arms, watching him move towards his bed before he stopped, his body relaxing slightly. he turned and looked at you, his eyes slender and narrow. the moonlight shining into his eyes sent you into a trance. he looked.. beautiful. the long scar that contrasted from his right eyebrow diagonally across his nose twinkled. his lips curled into a cruel smile, as if he had some sort of twisted plan.

“oh, yeah?” he smirked, dimples highlighting his grin. “you wanna learn the hard way? like Todo? you want me to hurt you, l/n?” he tilted his head, his eyes scanning you up and down.

“your mouth is too big.. maybe I should shut it for you.” ۵

HYPOCRITE.

PSA - If you read the title, no! this is NOT done yet. I’ve decided to turn it into a mini fic instead of a oneshot 😔 lord have mercy. anywaysss, I didn’t wanna make this too long, cause I hate reading long ass oneshots, so mini fic it is :>

BYE, SEE YOU SOON.

#itadori yuuji #enemies to lovers #bully x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk yuuji #yuuji x reader #anime aesthetic #todo aoi #anime and manga #anime #xoitadori

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snowwybear · 4 months

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𝔟𝔩𝔞𝔠𝔨 𝔠𝔞𝔱 𝑔𝑜𝓁𝒹𝑒𝓃 𝓇𝑒𝓉𝓇𝒾𝑒𝓋𝑒𝓇 | 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘣𝘦𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦

Based off this post

Vinnie missed you like crazy, currently he was in Japan. He loved Japan and wanted to show you around one of his favourite cities, so he organised a trip with you and a couple of friends to go to Japan. Unfortunately, you had a family emergency and couldn't make the trip. Vinnie tried to not get sad at the fact you weren't coming, he understood it was out of your control but still he was upset that his girl wasn't with him.

He and his friends were out shopping, wondering into each shop not really paying any attention to which shop they were going into, when he spotted a familiar beige and pink packaging in one of the stores they were in. He recognised the brand, Calico Critters small little plush dolls. You had brought a house and displayed it on your bookshelf. The house only came with one animal for the house, and he was currently staring at a lot of cute fluffy animals in need of home. He picked up one he thought you would like and went to pay for it, he couldn't wait for your reaction.

"... and yeah that's pretty much it". Vinnie said as he finished explaining his trip to you. Currently the two of you were cuddled up in Vinnie's bed looking through the photos Vinnie took on his trip to Japan. As soon as Vinnie came home and saw you awake lying in his bed, cuddled up to Hera, he pretty much jumped on top of you attacking you with kisses. He hadn't even started the process of unpacking his things, he was just too excited to be home.

"It sounds like you had fun. I'm really sorry that I couldn't be there again". You said sincerely.

"Stop apologising it's fine". He reassured you. "Actually, I have something for you". He got up from his bed and made his way over to his suitcase.

"You didn't have to get me anything". Surprised, you sat up on the bed.

Vinnie unzipped his suitcase, rummaging around in it before finally finding the box under some clothes. He looked up at you with bright eyes. "Hold your hands and close your eyes".

You obeyed his command. Vinnie made his way over to the bed, sitting on the edge of the bed gently gripping the box. He goes moves the box into your hand before hesitating slightly. What if you didn't like it? Shaking off his nerves he quickly placed the box in your hands and telling you to open your eyes.

You gazed onto the pink and beige box. Inside the box was a family of seals dressing in little sailor outfits. Calico Critters? You didn't think he took any notice. The house you bought sat open on your bookshelf, it was a childish thing to buy but you wanted that sense of nostalgia.

"What the fuck? Why did you get this for me?" You asked a little too aggressively. It wasn't quite the reaction Vinnie was expecting but he had known you long enough to wait and gauge your reactions.

"I don't know, I just saw it and thought of you". He said

You stared at the box. You had played with these toys as a kid. You had bought the house to feel like a kid again, since recently you've been overwhelmed with how life has been treat you. You put the box down on the bed and leaped forward, wrapping your arms around Vinnie's neck. That wasn't the reaction Vinnie was expecting either.

"You're so nice to me, I hate you". You whispered.

"I love you too".

#vinnie hacker #vinnie hacker x reader #snowwybear #vinnie hacker imagine #vinnie hacker smut #vinnie hacker x you #vinnie imagines #vinnie smut #vinnie x reader #vinnie x y/n #vinnie hacker fluff #requested

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ctrlsatoru · 24 days

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DIABLO CH2 - TOJI FUSHIGURO

content: techbro billionare!toji, reader is gojo's little sister, age gap (toji's in his mid 30s, reader in mid 20s) kind of ooc toji, suggestive themes, no smut yet. protective!toji and also asshole!toji. warnings: 18+ only. suggestive themes. explicit language, references to being roofied. toji being toji. minors do not interact. pairing: toji fushiguro x afab gojo!reader word count: 8k tags: @liitlesushi a/n: ok so this might be longer than I anticipated and also semi slow burn. it'll be worth it, trust. summary: It's Gojo's anniversary party, you're doomed by your Satoru's whims, haunted by your father's scheming, and now a devilish third player appears: Toji Fushiguro. And he's here to collect.

Toji opens his eyes, manually focusing on the ceiling above him. The strange pattern spun in slow circles, and then it settled.

This bed is not his own. The pillow feels too flat under his head, which is throbbing painfully. He feels like a dozen horses ran over him. A voice, distinctly female, unnecessarily loud, makes him wince and curse under his breath.

“... If I agree, and I haven’t, you’re not picking my outfit. Know that .”

This is unlike him. He can’t remember a thing. The one good thing about not recognizing the bed is that he’s not gonna have to deal with a strange woman in his place–

“Because your conception of what’s socially acceptable to wear to a formal function is not tethered to earthly reality, Satoru.”

Oh.

It’s you .

You’re on the phone, standing by floor-to-ceiling windows. The sunlight casts off your ring like white laser when you turn, blinding him.

“Mornin’” he croaks, pushing himself to sit against rough the rattan bed frame. The room moves from side to side, like you’re both stuck in a boat, and not in one of Haibara's many guest rooms. It’s all coming back to him, the party, watching you and your boyfriend’s fight, the deck–

“Oh. Hey, buddy.” you say idly, looking over your shoulder as you sit on the other side of the bed, your ring-covered finger tying some slutty sandals around your ankles like some kind of shibari countess. The strap of your top falls as you lean over. Toji’s buffering.

His ears must be fucking deceiving him.

Buddy?

The fuck?

He can’t for the life of him remember anything after the deck. You’re zooming through the room, texting furiously. On top of that, you look fresh and plump like lettuce out of the fridge, don’t you? But he had to blink several times to break through the layer of crust around his eyelashes, and his body is telling him you two fucked like animals for the past 12 hours.

Or he spent the weekend in the trenches.

He feels wildly unprepared for this morning after, and it’s a just fucking relief that you’re keeping your distance until you start tap tap taping your little heels to the door.

“The hell do you think you’re goin’?”

You stop, surveying him over your shoulder like he’s coming close to being some sort of inconvenience.

And then the corner of your lips lifts, the mole on your cheek jumping with the motion.

“It was fun.” Your phone starts ringing again. The sound drills a hole into Toji’s temples. “Too bad that it never happened.”

With that, you’re gone.

You abandon Toji with a bunch of unconscious people scattered around the house and Haibara, who’s still young enough to not know what a real hangover is. The kid will just not shut up about some hardcore surveillance system he had installed around the house recently after he noticed someone was stealing from his Kaws collection.

Toji listens to the whole story, sipping on the cold pressed green juice Haibara made himself, simply refusing to use the crystal straw, and makes a promise to himself. You’ll pay for whatever it is you did to him.

Even if he doesn’t remember what that was. Yet. It doesn’t matter. You’ll pay anyway. Nicely.

“Say, kid.” he asks Haibara, licking the green foam off his lips and putting down the empty glass on the counter. The juice tasted just like it looks, which is cow puke, but his mind is somewhere else. Machinating. Scheming.

“This system of yours, does it cover the whole house?”

Here’s the thing.

There are many things Toji isn’t.

For starters, he’s not easily bothered by most things, a trait that people usually mistake for a personal attack, like it has anything to do with them and isn’t just the hand that he was dealt. People assume others, in this case him, think about them more than he can be bothered to.

He’s not a control junkie either, not anymore. He left those days behind.

Control isn’t something he needs to worry about anymore. He has plenty of it. If something gets out of line, it gets back on it automatically. That’s just the way life is. Sure, he had his vices back then; lactose, gambling, adrenaline, women.

But the thing is, you learn a few things with age, right? Shiny things lose their sparkle. The excitement wears off. Nothing is safe from becoming predictable, not even the rush of hearing bone crack under his fists or the juiciest, tightest pussy presented to him on a tray.

And this sheds a light on the fact that he’s way past the age of being pussy whipped.

“You cannot be serious.”

So why the fuck is Shiu Kong looking at him like that?

And who does he think he is standing next to him, all up on his screen, and mind you, only alive thanks to the fact that Toji has lost some edge from his gory days?

He shuts down the tab like a kid who got caught watching porn on the family PC.

“You listen to me. Don’t you ever fucking do that–”

“The Gojo kid?”

Toji’s eyebrows dig into his face because you’re certainly not a kid. No. Kids don’t look like that. Kids most certainly don't go around passing people horse tranquilizer or whatever the fuck it is you fed him with that glossy mouth of yours.

And that’s what you did. That’s as far as he can remember.

“Is that what’s been–”

“I’m gonna stop you before you say some dumb shit and piss me off any further.”

Shiu’s been pestering him for days now about the upcoming iteration and the threat of several deadlines. Toji has been brushing it off. No nagging back or shutting down his complaints.

Somehow, his silence only pushes the stick further up Shiu’s ass. Like he’s his sexually neglected wife of 40 years.

Truth is, he hasn’t given the dynamic with his CFO/best friend much thought lately. Why would he when there’s an infuriating, mouthy woman with siren eyes that somehow look down at him even when he’s about two heads taller than–

You.

“–stalking the poor girl on the desktop version of Instagram.”

Toji returns to the conversation. “I don’t stalk people. I’m a grown-ass man.”

And you’re not a girl either. You’re something else. He hasn’t figured what yet.

“Mm. So am I.” Shiu says, still standing there with his hands in his pockets, head tilting down at some forgotten paperwork on his desk. “And even I know looking at someone’s profile on a desktop computer is a concerning level of unemployment, which you’re not at. Yet.”

Toji’s not that thick-headed. He knows he’s been distracted, but he can’t just brush that night at Haibara's away.

You pop up in his head unannounced and make yourself comfortable, rent fucking free. Like a little squatter. In the middle of meetings, when he's driving back home, at the gym, when he’s at the club with a gorgeous woman on his lap.

It’s becoming so frustrating that he’s started to despise you for real, and not just the made-up version of yourself he created when he met you and decided you were an ill-mannered bunny that he wanted to toy with for a bit.

In this scenario, of course, he was a wolf.

No one ever talks about how sometimes the bunny knocks the wolf out and bolts the morning after.

Days pass and his mind is blank of memories, no glimpses, no time-stopping sex flashbacks, just a bunch of strange vivid dreams about you that would make any mid-century french cult film director weep and the Soviet Union recoil. They distract him to the point of him nearly knocking the front teeth off his trainer’s face, or spilling orange juice all over his clothes this morning.

Toji’s positive you didn’t fuck. Sure, you had a bit of bed hair, but your face lacked the I-was-fucked-by-the-Toji-Fushiguro glaze he's used to seeing in women and takes pride in. You looked perfectly fine, collected enough to be giving your dimwit brother hell on the phone and fuck with him before disappearing.

It was fun.

He was also wearing underwear, and you walked just fine. No wobbly legs or tilted hips. No bruises on your neck or scratches on his back–

Too bad that it never happened.

You had shared a bed, that much he knew. He caught a whiff of your perfume after you left. He had cursed you then, feeling like a pathetic fucking dog sniffing up some pillows, but now the confusion and annoyance faded to a curiosity that extends past the time in his head he gives to the best lays he’s had.

So today he put up an incognito tab and looked you up hoping to find something annoying, corny or pathetic about you to make you unappealing, and somehow he landed on your personal IG profile.

You posted a set of pictures three days ago of meaningless corners at some random location. The fourth picture is a snap of what looks like your desk. There’s a polaroid of you and your fiancé next to a stack of notebooks.

You’re standing in front of him, leaning your head to the side with his chin resting nice and cozy on your shoulder, his nose pressed against your neck. Toji's lip curled in distaste.

He found your twitter account as well, because why not? And found nothing of particular interest. You stick to promoting your work and that's the end of it. Other people in your circle, on the other hand…

Toji went through a twitter phase not too long ago. He found endless amusement in pissing people off with less than 140 characters and replying to those who enjoyed his work. He uninstalled the app the second he found people selling mugs with screencaps of his tweets.

Safe to say the decision made Shiu’s and the PR team quite happy.

He’s out of the loop with the overall discourse, but it’s clear that you have farmed your own dedicated micro following online and your boyfriend is some kind of A24 flowerboy on the rise.

Toji heard of him before meeting you. His newfound success is the byproduct of his dreamy looks, a melancholic breakout role and the occasional activism, something that's been often questioned due to his relationship with you, and the consequential ties to your family.

Both of you, as a couple, act like viagra for a very specific, insufferable and presumptuous crowd. They’re hyper-focused on the fact that you haven’t posted him on your stories for weeks, that Hiroki allegedly deleted some posts with you on Instagram, and that he's been caught dreamily staring at his female co-star during press conferences.

Why people choose to waste their time with their noses up stranger's ass is something Toji does not understand, life being as short as it is.

“Please tell me that’s not her twitter account,” Shiu says. Toji inhales sharply. “This is more pathetic than I thought. No wonder you haven’t gotten anything done in days.”

He kills the rest of the tabs, spitting over his shoulder “I can’t very well do my fucking job if you’re breathing over my fucking shoulder, can I? You know how I fucking feel about people standing behind me when I’m trying to get shit done.”

“Twitchy .” Shiu notes and takes his sweet time walking around his desk, plopping down on the chair.

“Yep, take a seat, why don’t you.” Toji grumbles.

Shiu drums his fingers against his knee, a sign that he’s craving a cigarette, surveying him.

“So I’m gonna take a leap of faith here and assume this is some kind of executive-level scheming, and you’re just exploiting a vulnerability.”

Toji’s face twists like he sucked on a lemon at the mere thought of it.

“You know damn well the day I do business with that old cunt will be the day your ex-wife comes clean about what she did at that yoga retreat in Bali and asks for forgiveness.”

“Figures. So?”

“You’d probably take her back. Fucking cuck.”

“She really got under your skin, didn’t she?” Shiu notes, unbothered by the unprovoked attack.

Toji sniffs, comes down from the spike of anger, and finds a more comfortable position on his chair.

“She owes me.”

Shiu leans his head back, mildly amused.

“You adding usury to your ledger now?”

“Not money.”

“Alright then, I don’t want to know.”

Lies. But Shiu knows better than to push too much. Toji’s the type to hoard details not because he’s afraid of compromise, just to be an asshole.

It’s refreshing to see him almost… desperate. If you were anything like your brother, Shiu thought, you might be just the perfect little karma agent for his best friend.

“Fine. You get that business sorted. You’re no use to me if you’re distracted.”

“You worry about sorting your own business and I’ll worry about mine, Kong.”

Shiu stands up, fighting back a smile until he opens the door, stopping at the sight of Toji’s assistant about to knock.

“What is it?” Toji asks, scratching his eyebrow, already exhausted.

Keiko looks down at the tablet in her hands, hesitant.

“The team at Gojo Corp has reached out, sir. It seems Gojo Shinobu would like to invite you to dinner next week.”

The look on Shiu’s face as he slowly turns to face him is priceless. Toji rests his elbows on his desk, a sinister smile pulling at his scar.

“Well, isn’t that interesting?”

“Interesting indeed.” Shiu agrees. Keiko eyes them skeptically, because her boss smiling like that cannot mean anything good for society, or her sleep schedule.

“I better get to work then, eh?”

“Anytime would be nice, yes.” Shiu says, turning to Keiko. “I guess I’ll finally find out about Bali, then.”

So you might be thinking, look at him backtracking like that.

Don’t get him wrong, it’s nothing like that.

Toji’s sitting across from Gojo Shinobu, the man, the myth, the bigot himself, with absolutely no intention of making business with him.

He’s just sniffing the territory.

In person and up close, Shinobu's a disturbing aged mix of you and your brother: the hair and the uncanny valley eyes went to him, but the eyebrows, the slope of his nose, it’s you. Even the handshake, firm and tight like a war general, reminds Toji of you.

Gojo Shinobu’s old as the fucking bible. His eyes are graying, eyelids sagging but it's clear that grandpa's still sharp.

For the record, Toji doesn’t like the old fart. He represents many things that he despises about older generations, and his business model is one of the many reasons for the country living in the past, but he’s not about to get political.

Not liking Gojo Shinobu doesn't mean he has no respect for him, so he’s honest and immediately shuts down the proposal of Gojo Corp. being involved in future Diablo releases.

Dignified, not happy, but never one to accept a no, Shinobu just smiles, brushes his beard like a Ghibli villain, and switches the subject.

Alcohol involved and pretending to put business talk aside, the conversation flows easily. Your father has a surprisingly entertaining dry sense of humor. Toji supposes you stop giving a shit when you have one foot in the grave, he also imagines the borderline cruel wit had something to do with your mother getting knocked up with you at the peak of her career as an actress and sex symbol.

“I hear you have a kid.”

“Two.” Toji corrects, remembering that he’s supposed to pick up Tsumiki in an hour. Ballet class. She’s getting rather serious about it. “A girl and a boy.”

“Ah, good balance.” Shinobu nods with a knowing smile. “They listen to you? How old are they?”

“15 and 16. And they do.”

They don’t, because they’re teenagers, not soldiers. Megumi and Tsumiki are good kids, certainly better than he was at their ages, they don’t need him ordering them around, watching their every step.

“Dangerous, dangerous age.” your father hums. “You make sure they do that, save yourself the bitterness in the future.”

Damn. Alright. Toji lifts his eyebrows and leans back, listening. That’s all it takes.

“You’d be surprised. You get a little too light handed, and a perfect sapling can get ruined just like that.” he snaps his fingers. “It’s harder to straighten them up as they grow up.”

Toji takes a long, good sip, fighting back a chuckle. He has no concerns when it comes to who or how people choose to fuck, but the blatant homophobia is always amusing.

“And then they gang up on you.” Shinobu scoffs. Toji can imagine you and your brother scheduling a year worth of publicly terrorizing Shinobu. “No wife? You raising them on your own?”

“I am.”

“Good man. It’s hard, honest work. Make sure you look for a good one to settle with, not all of them are in touch with their motherly instinct.”

His assistant comes in, tells him someone has arrived, and Shinobu makes a noise with his nose or mouth that reminds Toji of an exasperated horse.

“Take the advice from me. You see–”

He leans over the table, brushes his beard.

“If, and I am not wishing this upon you, your daughter comes of age and– after years of picking up and dropping all sorts of interests with no interest in commitment,"

He pauses, chuckling humorlessly.

"–comes to the conclusion that she wants to waste her life playing with cameras and hanging out with gender-bending creatives,”

The word is said with so much despise Toji feels like there should be a new phobia for it.

“You have to sit down and choose what’s more important; letting her waste her potential away, or being in her good graces. More often than not it can’t be both, that’s just how it is.”

Perhaps Toji hasn’t given you enough credit. You could’ve ended up a lot worse than you are. Knocking him out was nothing. You could’ve chopped him up, kept his dismembered body in your fridge, and he’d see where you're coming from.

“But when she tells you she wants to let some vulture into your family and make him blood, you take matters into your own hands.” he nods firmly, like it’s Toji he’s mad at, and finally looks over his shoulder, nostrils flared.

Asaya Hiroki approaches the table. Jetlagged eyes, tail between his legs.

“Fushiguro, this is Asaya Hiroji, my daughter’s boyfriend.”

Hiroki looks like he has half a mind to correct him on either the name or relationship status but he’s too fond of keeping his head attached to his body.

Hiroki’s pretty. Toji can’t compete in that department. He looks like he puts sugar and milk on his tea and smashes the china on the floor when he’s told he can’t have more, like a psychotic puppy.

In other words, you make sense together.

You like to look at pretty things so your boyfriend’s cute. No harm in acknowledging that, though he remembers Tsumiki mentioning that when noses dip down like that it means there’s some kind of prosthetic.

And if you pay attention, really read between the lines of his 90’s film heartthrob face, something’s off with him, isn’t it?

But what does he care? A nose job is no crime. Hiroki has other flaws to offer. For example, he has a rather shitty way of hiding the fact that he’s doing something he’s not supposed to.

Perhaps, even, going behind someone’s back.

And the guy calls himself an actor.

Satisfied with the results of what he thought would be a waste of an afternoon, he excuses himself. He’ll be just in time to get to Tsumiki’s class before it’s done and have the other kids’ moms and nannies ogle at him. Tsumiki hates it when he does that.

“Don’t be a stranger, Fushiguro. I’d like to keep this channel between us open. I hope to see you at the anniversary party.”

“Pardon?” Toji stops, surprised.

“The company’s anniversary party this Friday,” Shinobu says, like it’s obvious. “I’d like you to meet my son, and well, you’re already acquainted with my daughter.”

Hiroki’s round bobba eyes follow him all the way to the grand crystal doors. Toji has the distinct feeling that he was just part of Shinobu taking matters into his own hands.

He’s both disturbed and impressed. He never mentioned meeting you, and he’s pretty damn sure that this detail didn’t slip from your lips either.

Every year the company throws an anniversary party, and you and your brother and every high-level employee have to attend and listen to your father’s rendition of why diesel was better and how you’re all wimps for being born after the extinction of smallpox.��

The one year that you didn’t attend, because you were stuck in Norway with a canceled flight, your father spent exactly 11 months reminding you of it like you had any say in the weather conditions of the North Sea.

Tonight might be his last speech as chairman, since he’s about to step down from his position after growing health concerns. The company has gone all out; live music, huge venue, ice sculptures, people are dancing. They've put so much effort your father's probably more annoyed than anything.

Suguru approaches you at the empty family table and sits down next to you with a knowing smile, like he's thinking the same thing as you while you're watching people waltz. He’s looking as handsome as ever, you just miss the bangs framing his face.

“So, when do you think he’s going to publicly execute the medical staff that diagnosed him with Alzheimer’s?”

“Probably after he declares war on Gretha Thunberg.”

You’re wary. He might have everyone convinced, but it’s not like him to step down quietly. Your instincts are telling you to expect shenanigans tonight, and they’ve never once failed you.

“Seems too good to be true, don’t you think?” you say, eyeing the crowd. “I don’t know how Satoru’s so cool about it.”

Suguru sighs, craning his neck. “I wouldn’t say he is.”

And that’s when your brother slams his palm on the table, making you jump in your seat. He leans over the two of you, eyeing the room like it’s the school cafeteria and he’s the king of prom.

And he kind of is. Today your father will officially name him his successor, so the sour look in his face makes you and Suguru share a look.

“Do you see Hideo Kojima on steroids hanging out with Nanamin? I guess next year we’ll have the Yakuza on the jazz band.”

You laugh, only half weirded out. Suguru looks up at your brother, confused.

“Who? ”

“Toji Fushiguro. ” Satoru drawls, icily amused, and your neck turns so fast Suguru worries it’ll break. “And his underling.”

Remember your intuition? Red sirens start ringing in your head, and the edges of your vision start staining in with a deep burgundy color.

What on earth is he–

“Dad invited him.” Satoru says, still not sitting down, still scanning the room with deadly eyes. You feel the urge to look around and pinpoint his exact location, but you wait for him to point with his chin. “They’ve been seeing each other. Mimosas and manicures, I heard.”

You find him across the room, several tables between you, just over the elevated candles in the middle of your table, talking with Nanami and some man you don’t recognize.

You fight the weak but sensible urge to look away when he suddenly turns to your table and lifts his glass in your direction, like he felt the shit talking from a distance.

The room is vast, but you recognize the feeling of his eyes looking straight at you. Your brother is too occupied cursing under his breath while he mockingly lifts his glass to notice you gulping.

“You think dad’s hitting that?”

You try not to gag. “You’re sick.”

“Cause someone will owe me a loooot of money if that’s the case.” he taunts. You both placed a bet on whether your father is bisexual or not years ago. “Look at him, standing there like he’s threatening to swipe all the fertile wives in the room. Freak.”

You snort. A bit of your goes down the wrong pipe, Suguru helpfully pats your back.

“You better hold on to yours then.”

“Nah, he’s locked in. Ain’t cha , babes?”

You roll your eyes, feeling Suguru shake his head with a lovesick smirk. Your brother replies with a wink, lazily dropping his weight on the chair next to you, like you need to be in the middle of all that.

You lean back, stretching your neck and stranding up. “Ok, you can back up a little. It’s embarrassing enough to be matching with you.”

Satoru stretches his arm over your now empty seat. They’ve been purposefully keeping a distance, him and Suguru, people assume it’s for appearances' sake, but you know them better than that. They’re playing some game tonight, and you’d rather pluck out your lashes one by one than learn the details.

“And I distinctly remember asking you to stop feeding into those fucked up theories online about me terrorizing you as a child, but you had to take those creepy family portraits with the heads cut off. We don’t always get what we want, sis.”

And don’t you know that. Tonight was stressing enough without 6’ something with a lip scar, ever so subtly following with his eyes as you make your way around the party. Not too obvious for an outsider to notice, but just enough to make the exposed hairs at the back of your neck stand up.

You’re a little too energized. Like too many shots of espresso and Ritalin after an allnighter.

It makes no sense to start feeling threatened by Toji Fushiguro tonight, when he’s in your territory, but you do.

But you weren’t raised under the same roof as Gojo Shinobu and Gojo Satoru to be so easily intimidated, so you mingle, let people stop you for quick, boring catch ups and questions about being excited about your brother and what-have-you-been-up -tos, even those whose faces or names you can’t recall.

You smile, entertain and even ask people about their whereabouts, until you’re out of social battery for the rest of the season.

“Took you long enough.” you say, making a point of not looking at him.

His voice comes closer than you expected or feel sane about. Smooth and dark, in through your left ear.

“Patience is a virtue, haven’t you heard?”

His presence is more unnerving than you geared up for, and just like the first time, a shiver cuts through you. Something urges you to move and take a step sideways, out of the magnetic pull around him.

You finally take him in. Tailored tuxedo, slightly tousled black hair that you know for a fact is unfairly soft, exuding confidence. Never in your life had you encountered someone as infuriating and intoxicating as him.

“So, are you my new stepdaddy?”

A slap to his face would’ve stunned him less. Hell, he might’ve enjoyed it. You don’t give him a chance. His pants have no business getting tighter from that fucking question. Toji buffers again.

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me.”

He hums, hands in his pockets.

“Depends.”

You tilt your head.

“You into that kind of thing?”

You scoff, dismissive as always, but suspiciously purse your lips to one side before taking a sip of your drink. Perhaps gatekeeping a chuckle.

Head held high, nose up in the air. Toji takes your profile in. The light bouncing off the high points of your face, the deliberate, doll-like curl of your lashes, the soft slope of your neck and the dips and curves of your shoulders. Your dress painted a nice image in his head of your body from afar, so he refrains from going past your collarbones like the honorable man that he is.

“What? No backtalk? I’m disappointed.”

“I didn’t expect to see you any time soon.”

“Like I said, patience is a virtue.”

You roll your eyes and laugh dismissively. “You don’t believe that.”

“Bold assumption.” he counters. “I wanted to see how long you’d last entertaining guests, but then your right eye started twitching and I suppose took some pity on you.”

“Aren’t you an empath.”

“Even to those who don’t deserve it.”

Your chin quivers, but you keep the smile to yourself with a quick sigh. Toji could look down at the way your chest rises and drops, but he’s not in a rush here.

“Why are you here?”

“Is that any way to speak to a guest? I’m sure Shinobu raised you better than that.”

Name dropping your father gets the exact reaction he was hoping for.

“Why are you here?” you repeat, enunciating slowly, but the words you want to say are don't fuck with me right now.

But you’re too precious for him to deny himself the pleasure. Not when your eyebrows tremble like that.

“Your father was kind enough to invite me. It would’ve been rude to turn him down.”

“You’re not here to entertain him. He’s stepping down soon and you can’t stand him.”

“Doesn’t mean that I don’t respect him. Why else would I waste a perfectly nice friday night surrounded by a bunch of suck ups? Are you suggesting I have some ulterior motive?”

Your squint at him, like you don’t believe he has the guts to say it.

“Did you perhaps assume I’m here for… you?”

Toji wonders if your silence has anything to do with the white haired manchild looking your way for the second time.

“We do have something to settle. You owe me something, if I remember correctly.”

“I think you’re mistaking me for someone else.”

“Nice try. An explanation, does that ring any bells?”

Your head snaps up to him, the wisps of hair hanging from the sides of your face flow with the movement. The tip of your nose and your cupid’s bow catch the light, if he couldn’t see your face this close he’d mistake that for sweat.

He’s reminded of how you looked at the deck in contrast to the sight of you right now. A sheer layer of sweat was covering your skin, your plump thighs spilling on the wood surface, he'd kept his hands in his phone and held on to his own sanity.

“What is there to explain? Nothing happened.”

Toji tilts his head. “Lying is a bad, bad thing,”

“We didn’t do anything, Fushiguro.” you insist, lowering your voice. Toji looks over your head, bored with your attempts at gaslighting. “If you–”

“You wanna dance?”

The nonchalant act drops, you unconsciously lean back and open your mouth like there’s not enough air in the room. Toji smiles at your hesitation, cold and challenging.

“It’s in your best interest.”

“How?”

“Because the old cunt that kept kissing your hand earlier is coming our way and I’m about to leave you alone with him” he lies and you don’t dare look over your shoulder to check, not wanting to risk making eye contact with the slimmy fucker.

It’s a bad idea. Being near Toji is a bad idea, dancing with him is the equivalent of putting on a vest bomb. Your father is somewhere in the room and your brother might act aloof but not a single interaction of his interest is going unnoticed.

Putting your hand in his is a bad, bad idea. The worst. But you suspect figuring out Toji Fushiguro’s intentions will take some compromise on your part, so you don’t hesitate when you grab his hand.

With his arm around you, he's reminded of a particularly striking dream he had about you days ago. The first thing he did when he woke up from it was open his app notes and write two words, perverse angel.

Now he knows it was actually deja vu; you close your eyes for a bit, the breathing image of reminiscing. This isn’t your first time in his arms.

The melody gets rather slow. You hold yourself with all the poise of a reluctant little heiress, defiant but serene as you look at him, arm resting over his.

While he’s growing quite fond of the sight of your neck exposed, he’d rather find the main pin and let your hair down. Let you get comfortable, not taut like you are in his hold.

“You look like a tall pint of guinness.”

Toji could do this all night. Just watch your expression drop, annoyance pinch at your temples.

One ankle betrays you, but he’s not about to let that happen. The arm around your waist keeps you steady, moving along with him. His grip is firm, but not overpowering.

“You’re an asshole.” You say like you just discovered it tonight.

He’s right. You know it and you hate that he described it so right. You’re dressed in a black, sleek and form fitting dress that goes down to your ankles and the top is made of an off-shoulder white band that wraps around your shoulders.

Toji laughs with that shark grin of his, his scar stretching.

“There’s nothing wrong with it.” He adds helpfully, hand coming up to straighten the white fabric around your left shoulder. The air turns colder with the absence of his arm, but it returns to the spot in no time. “Wouldn’t have been my first choice, granted, but it’s a lovely dress. Perfect for a night at the pub, watching the game with the boys.”

“I think I’ll pass on the unsolicited fashion advice, thanks.”

“Come on. You can never go wrong with a red dress.” he counters, eyes dropping briefly. You wrinkle your nose, he takes offense. “What?”

“Not my style” you shrug.

“Now that’s just tragic.”

“If it makes you feel better, I’ll make sure to wear one to your funeral.”

The couples closest to you turn with different looks of controlled distaste. Toji laughs heartily, head thrown back and everything.

“I’ll hold you to that. I might just return just to see it with my own eyes.”

“Not sure doors open both ways in hell, but hey, more power to you.”

“So you wanna hear my theory?”

You sigh. “Nothing happened, Toji. I mean it.”

What a terrible liar you are.

“I think you had a little alcohol in you, were fresh off a fight with your boyfriend, and just couldn’t help yourself because you have a thing for problems.”

You nod sarcastically. “And of course, you’re the problem in question.”

“Well, yes.” he blinks. “And also, you don’t have half the self control you believe you have. So you freaked out and put me to sleep to stop yourself from doing something you thought you might regret.”

This is how it was. You had forgotten the rush, despite replaying time and time again your past conversations. Interacting with Toji Fushiguro is like playing five finger fillet, thrilling and grueling and high risk, but it’s a whole other thing with people around you. You can’t let up, all your senses need to be on guard.

“Aren’t you too old to be throwing a fit because I gave you more than you could handle?”

Toji’s eyes dig into yours, a hint of amusement and something else.

“Here’s a piece of advice: choose your words very, very carefully. They might come back to haunt you. ”

“It never happened. And it won’t.” You repeat with a cool tone. The pulse on your wrist drums against his own.

“I have to say, you’re a better actress than he is.” he mentions. “But denial does not suit you. We’re gonna have to do something about that or things will get very awkward real soon.”

“Actually I think we should focus on your rejection issues first.”

“I’m not a problem for you to solve, sweetheart.” he chuckles darkly, eyes knowing, never leaving yours.

Years of practicing the art of bullshitting in your household could not help you deny the fact that you're maddeningly, disturbingly attracted to him.

“What you see is what you get. And you could, if you stopped being a little coward.”

He makes you turn effortlessly, that’s when you see him. Hiroki. The words die on your lips, your stomach drops, all resolve wavers. He releases you and your arms hang limp on your sides.

He licks his scar and smirks sideways at you, eyes twinkling. You could push him off the roof of the building.

“You should fix your face, angel, ‘cause I won’t behave if he wants to pick a fight.”

You’ve always liked Nanami Kento. He’s one of your father’s closest, youngest and less... spineless advisors, the pathological victim of your brother's pestering, and always impeccably polite to you, sweet even.

But right now, when he’s introducing Toji Fushiguro and his friend whose name you didn't catch to Suguru and Hiroki, you’d love to hit him in the head with a hammer.

At least your brother is nowhere to be seen.

"Pleasure to meet you." Suguru says.

Hiroki has his arm around your waist. He's not looking at you. You know what the dimpling of his cheeks mean.

“We’ve met before actually, haven’t we?” Toji turns to him, brow burying into his face like he’s not too sure, shaking his finger in the air. “Correct me if I’m wrong. I don’t remember too well.”

Your heart is stuck in your neck, threatening to crawl out of your mouth. Suguru gives you an odd look.

“We have.” You don’t see the look on Hiroki’s face when he replies, but his tone is controlled.

“Yeah, I thought so.”

Shiu Kong says something, and Suguru responds another thing. It's all noise to you.

You grab a drink from a passing tray and the corner of Toji’s mouth tilts, his attention on Suguru’s conversation. You feel irrationally mad, like slapping him, but then he’d probably fix his jaw and look at you like you should've gone rougher and–

There’s something seriously wrong with you. Officially.

You grab Hiroki’s hand and pull him with you.

He’s confused, but follows you nonetheless. “Can you just wait for a–”

“We should ditch the party.” You tell him, but he doesn’t agree like he usually would and grabs your arm, stopping you at once, brown eyes searching yours.

“You’re not even gonna ask why I’m here?”

“My dad invited you?” you reply, confused by the offended look on his face.

“No. Why would he? You know how I feel about this kind of thing.”

Now you’re confused. You smell his breath and notice his flushed cheeks. “But you’re here.”

“Wow. Try to contain the excitement, why don’t you.” he scoffs. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to fly across continents and interrupt whatever the hell that wa–”

He’s starting to raise his voice, drawing attention, usually composed demeanor nowhere to be seen. You catch a whiff of alcohol on his breath.

“You’ve been drinking.”

His face drops. The volatile look in his eyes is not something you can deal with tonight.

You’re forever grateful for the woman announcing your father’s speech. Hiroki’s expression clears up, but he gives you a look that says you’ll resume the conversation later, soon, tonight.

Then he pulls you to his side and leads you closer to the podium.

Your father looks into the crowd with piercing blue eyes. You, like you have for the past few months, have a bad feeling. Like if you were to take a picture right now, it would later be displayed as the moment before hell broke loose.

“... And as many of you know, the time has come for me to step back and allow a new generation to lead us forward."

The crowd hangs on his every word. You scan the room for the 10th time, looking for a head full of white hair.

Hiroki notices your unease and looks down at you, rubbing your arm. “Hey, what is it?”

“I don’t see Satoru.”

Your father continues, voice unwavering.

"It is with great confidence and optimism that I announce my successor, a person who embodies the values and vision of our company."

You finally find Satoru at the back, he’s with Suguru and Nanami. Waving his arms around him, hair a mess, pissed.

"Please join me in welcoming our future CEO, Noritoshi Kamo."

The room bursts into applause, but before his words can fully register in your mind, a sudden, sharp crack echoes through. For a split second collective confusion takes over, and then it turns to full blown panic.

You watch your father duck under the podium. Your legs move on their own.

Gunshots.

People are running, crawling and diving for cover all around. Tables are overturned, glass shatters. It's all white noise.

"Get down!" someone shouts.

Something slams into you.

Toji picks you up from the ground. Exit located, going for it.

“My dad," you protest with wide eyes, hastily trying to look over your shoulder. Toji has half a mind to throw you over his shoulder.

“He’s fine.” he assures, hand covering your head, pushing it down.

Security sprung into action in no time at the first gunshot, formed a barrier around your father and hurried him down the stage. Toji saw it with his own eyes right before he caught you running like a tweaking baby reindeer, right before some piece of shit shoved you to the ground.

You keep protesting, resisting, trying to go in the opposite direction, so Toji has no choice but to lift you up and thrown you over his shoulder.

A colorful string of panicked and enraged expletives follow. You’re livid, fists slamming into his back without mercy. Toji pays no mind, pushing through the crowd, making his way to the emergency exit.

He doesn't put you down until you're both alone in the emptiness of some sterile corridor. And you're still rambling.

“Shut up for a second, will you?"

That does it. You're flabbergasted, opening your mouth again in full Karen fashion.

Toji doesn’t care for it. “Are you hurt?”

“No.” you reply furiously, fist tight on your sides. You catch your breath, step down from your heels and start to speed walk down the corridor. “I have to find my father– I need to– Satoru–”

“They’re safe.” Toji catches up to you in two or three long steps. “Gojo’s security doesn’t fuck around. I mean– yeah, they did fuck up letting a guy bring a gun inside the premises, but they were quick with it.”

Your nostrils flare. Toji hears voices at the corner and pushes you behind him. He sees a couple of guys in black in the reflection of a fire extinguisher cabinet. Dressed in black, wired ears, walking like they know they might lose their jobs tonight.

“Hey, I got the heiress here. She’s looking for her old man.”

They escort you both, eyes hopeful, looking at you like you're their ticket out of unemployment. Your father and his people are gathered in some conference room one floor above. The altercation can be heard from outside.

“It’s for the best. You're too out of it to see it now, but you will.”

The room is packed. Your father, his disciples, your brother and his boyfriend, a very uncomfortable looking couple of cops. A woman approaches you, asking you if you're ok, but your eyes and attention at stuck on your father and your brother dueling for the whole room to see.

Your brother stops his pacing and turns to face Shinobu.

“No, that's not it. I see it, I see you. You’re too prideful to let me clean up after you.”

Getting caught in a family brawl was not in Toji’s plans tonight, but he stays put, watching you approach them with confusion all over your face. They don’t seem to notice you.

Gojo Shinobu levels his son with warning eyes, finger pointed at him. “Watch your words, Satoru. You don’t know what you’re talking about. My decision is final.”

He turns around, beckons the woman who approached you to him, but your brother is not done.

“You know I can do it." he says, your father stops and turns to him with death in his eyes and his lips pressed into a thin line. "You know I can. You just can’t stand the thought of me succeeding where you fucking failed.”

The look on your face says it all, you don’t know what your brother is talking about, and that you’re in no headspace to ask either. Satoru's not just pushing the limits, he just sped past them.

The words hit your father square in the chest.

Things are about to get bloody.

“You’re nothing but a spoiled, entitled brat who thinks he deserves everything handed to him on a silver platter. Look at what you’ve made of your life, acting like everything is a fucking game. You think I’ll let someone like you lead what I spent my life building?”

You turn to him, mouth falling open. “Jesus christ, dad.”

“Over my dead fucking body.”

Your brother’s face contorts in rage. He -predictably and unpredictably at the same time- lunges forward, fist aimed at your father’s face.

The room springs into action. Your father's guard dogs, the cops, Nanami Kento, you beat them all to it, but it’s ultimately Toji who gets to him.

In another situation, Toji would've found a comfortable seat for himself, perhaps a drink, and watch the havoc unfold. Let the son champion the decade long cause of union workers, environmental hippies, human rights, consumer advocacy activists alike, and punch the lights out of his father's smug face.

Then he'd spare no details for Shiu over a nice dinner.

But he grabs Gojo Satoru's arm instead, stopping him mid swing.

Blue, crazy and uncanny eyes land on him.

As a general rule, he avoids getting involved in other people's affairs, especially when it comes to love spats or family drama. However, when he says,

“Trust me, you’ll thank me later.”

He means it.

Your father chuckles dismissively.

Your brother watches as he walks away, chest heaving up and down.

“Toru?”

Surely those two syllables did not come from you. If denial did not suit you, this uncertainty is just disturbing. It’s not right.

“What was that?” The question comes from the depths of your throat, voice nothing like Toji has heard before.

“Not now.” your brother snaps, turning around and walking out. Geto Suguru on his side.

Toji’s phone starts ringing, he tries to shake off the unsettling image of you before walking out of the room to answer.

It's Shiu. He's waiting outside, watching the police drag the gunman into a car, and wondering where he is. Toji sighs, comes to terms with the fact that he's on a streak of sorts tonight, because once again, against his own code, he tells him Shiu to leave without him, not answering any questions about his whereabouts.

People have dispersed with your father gone from the scene. Toji walks back inside, pocketing his phone, and finds you by a corner of the room. Your boyfriend has found you again, fuck knows where the came from.

He's pulling his phone out, ready to call Shiu and tell him he's on his way down, but you're shaking your head, running your hand through your hair like you forgot it's pulled back.

Hiroki gets in front of you when you try to walk away. You put your hands between you, like the last thing you need is someone coming close. You must've just said something nasty, hit a tender spot, because he freezes where he stands.

Toji drops his arm.

Once again you try to walk around him, but this time Hiroki gets a hold of your arms.

“Why?” he asks. You’re looking at him like he grew a second head. “We talked about it all the time, we always said–”

Toji's wandered close enough to catch your reply.

“What do you mean why? Have you lost your mind? I can’t leave Satoru alone right now, Hiroki.”

“In case you didn’t notice he just fucking left you here.” he snaps at you.

You flinch. Recoil. Push against his hold.

“Let go. I’m sorry but I can’t deal with you tonight.”

“You can’t? Right. You can’t. Tell me something, do you have any idea what kind of shit I’ve had to put up with–”

You snarl at him, baring your teeth, bare feet stomping on the carpeted floor. Hiroki doesn’t even sway with your attempts, or flinch at the near animalistic way you look at him.

“I fucking don’t. And I don’t want to know. I didn’t ask you to be here tonight.” you reply, tone vicious, jaw locked. “You don’t get to hold it against me.”

The next thing Hiroki says pours out of his mouth like it’s a known fact, or an acceptable thing to say to the woman you’re going to marry.

“They don’t give a shit about you. You know that.”

By now, you two have caught Kento Nanami's attention. He wraps up whatever he's discussing with a couple of men and approaches the scene.

Hiroki does not let up, it's easy to see that he will not. He fixes his grip like you'll turn to liquid and spill between his fingers if he gets distracted.

You wince.

Toji walks over with four or five committed strides until he's between you two. The abrupt interruption and breach of personal space startles Hiroki, gives you the chance to step back.

“I think that’s enough.”

“Well, this is just great.”

Hiroki chortles, looking away like he’s collecting his thoughts. Biting his lips in contemplation. Nodding to himself once or twice. Toji regards him coldly, lets him gather his thoughts, or the guts to attempt something idiotic like, who knows, get himself pummeled to the ground.

“You know, I keep seeing you everywhere lately, why is that?”

Toji shrugs, uninterested and unintimidated. Hiroki won't get his face cut even if he deserves it, and it's not that Toji's against the idea of being a vessel for some sort of long time coming retribution. In fact, he'd be doing it just for his own satisfaction.

But the night should end now. He’s gonna have a hard time forgetting how you looked earlier when your moron of a brother stormed past you and left you standing there, in the middle of a room full of people that did not care about you, heels hanging from your hand, shoulders sagging.

Doesn’t mean he’s not gonna give the boy something to pop a vein about.

“Why don’t you take a guess, hm?”

Something snaps behind Hiroki's eyes. Toji's front row this time, and he confirms everything he suspected about him.

And he makes his mind up.

Hiroki looks at you, lids heavy, ears red. “Are you fucking him?”

How predictable. Toji looks at you over his shoulder, and somehow, you understand. It's barely noticeable, but you shake your head.

“You have to leave.” you sound a lot more like yourself this time. Only tired. Really exhausted. Like your feet are about to give out under you. Toji's not blind to the way you’ve been putting all your weight on one foot.

Hiroki pauses, realization lands on him that you’re talking to him, and not Toji.

“Get on a plane, fly back to Spain, and stay there for as long as you have to.”

“This is fucking unbelievable.”

“I disagree. Have a safe flight.”

Hiroki stomps out, shoulders past unfazed Nanami Kento, who looks at him like he’s a speck of dust. He approaches you, asks you if you're ok.

You ask about your dad, he tells you he’s currently talking to the police and insists on getting you a car and someone to accompany you. Says you should rest.

“I can take her home.” Toji says. You peer at him like that's the last thing you were expecting to hear, and then you nod.

Nanami watches Toji carefully, studying him intently. “Are you sure?”

“Yes. Keep me posted?”

His features soften just a bit, he touches your shoulder, promises he will.

He doesn’t keep his eyes off Toji until you two make it to the door. Toji might find the guy agreeable, stick up his ass and all.

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