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satorusugurugurl · 3 months

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I Think He Knows: (Chapter Eight)

Summary: When your novel takes off and becomes a best seller, doors of opportunities open for you. You can work on the series you have dreamed about all your life. And you’re also given the chance to stay in a tiny cottage in Europe for two years to help with inspiration! Your best friend, Geto Suguru, shatters at the news. How could he tell you how he feels when you leave him? His opportunity appears right before him when you confess that your editor thinks a change of scenery will help with your not-so-steamy romance scenes. They’re lacking a particular spice because you’re a virgin. So, Suguru does what any best friend would do. He offers to teach you how things work. Will you cross that line as friends? Or will you both say goodbye?

Pairing: Geto Suguru x FAB!Reader

Word Count: 4,759

Warning: nightmares, mentions of character death, panic attack, night terror, blood, PTSD, suvivor guilt Language, suggestiveness, grinding, neck kisses, dry humping,

A/N: oh man!! We have three parts left after this update, maybe two. Still plotting out the last chapters!!

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six Part Seven Part Nine Part Ten Part Eleven

Suguru knew something was wrong with you. Something was up the second you both boarded your plane as you mindlessly stared at your computer screen. He wanted to believe that maybe something happened with your agent or you were stuck doing rewrites, but his anxiety told him you were beginning to regret your decision to come with him. He didn’t want to hold you back if staying in Tokyo with something you wanted to do. He wanted you to follow your dreams.

He just needed to figure out how to bring it up.

However, that seemed like a terrible way to start this trip. He should be elated, jumping with joy over the fact that he spent time with you. You were going to be living together for the next four months. It would be if there were any time to tell you how he felt now. If he could muster up the courage to do that, he would follow his friend's advice, preferably today or tonight, once you guys got to your condo.

Suguru was going to tell you how he felt finally. He was going to be upfront and honest. He didn’t want to be your friend anymore. He would much rather be your boyfriend if you would accept him.

If he continued to beat around the bush, there was a chance he would lose you. That was something he could not afford to do. Losing you would be like losing part of his soul.

For now, he just needed to keep things lighthearted and stress-free. Which would be easier if you weren’t mindlessly staring at your computer screen. Your eyes were slightly swollen, and your manicured nails tapped against the side of your laptop as the word seemed to evade you, seeing you were so lost in thought.

Without thinking, Suguru reached over and gently grabbed your hand, holding it tight, drawing you out of your fantasy world and back into reality. Your tired, swollen eyes glanced down at your conjoined hands, and for the first time since you boarded the plane, you smiled. It wasn’t the fake smile that you had put on since you both sat down. No, this was your genuine, honest smile.

Which made his whole heart sing.

“You okay?” Suguru asked as you pulled your headphones up to listen to him.

“Oh yeah, I have a nasty case of writer's block. I hope going to the beach when we get there will help.”

Hearing you speak so freely about the issues you were having lifted some of the tension on Suguru’s shoulders. Knowing that you were just stuck in writer's block and not regretting your decision to join him, he slumped back against his chair as his fingers slowly interlaced with yours. He was afraid if he moved any faster, you would disappear.

“I’m sorry, having a blockage like that sucks. Is there anything I can do to help?”

A flush crept across your cheekbones and over the bridge of your nose. “H-Here?” The shushed, almost reprimanding tone of your voice had your best friend smirking. “W-We’re in public! And people would catch us.” Suguru gave your hand another reassuring squeeze.

“I didn't mean like that. Is there anything I could do to help you get through your writer's block?”

“Oh,” your flush deepened in color, “right, yeah, you didn’t mean us fucking in the bathroom.”

Fucking?

You hadn’t noticed the word you had used, but your best friend did. None of your sessions thus far had gone farther than touching and dry humping. So, for you to outwardly say something like that, it was entirely out of left field. Suguru’s cheek flushed a rosey shade as you continued to ramble on about how there were no planes in your fantasy world, and you didn’t see how that would help with your writer's block but profusely thankful for his offer.

Fucking?

That word had been something he was familiar with countless times before. He had had his share of partners in the past, but you were different. You weren’t just some girl. You were his best friend, and you deserve the absolute best. Fucking, was something he never wanted to do with you. No, Suguru wanted to make love with you.

Love. Making love. That sounded so much better than fucking. Making love sounded like something you were so deserving of.

“Suguru?” Your free hand reached forward, touching his forehead with the back of your hand. “Are you okay? You look a little flushed.”

“Oh, yeah, I uh—it’s just a bit warm in here.” it sounds like a bullshit excuse because it is a bullshit excuse.

You just softly grin, dropping your hand down to cup his face. The gentle touch alleviates all the stress and thoughts continuously forming in Subaru’s mind. He finds himself in the back of your hand, leaning into your touch. Everything would be okay as long as he had you by his side.

He could return to Okinawa and paint a mural of a girl he had failed. He might be able to go back to the street where she had died eventually. And he would tell you how he felt.

All because you were with him.

Even though you were by his side, he found himself shaking as he looked out at the ocean as the taxi drove you both to the condo you would call Home for the next four months. Thoughts of Riko and Gojo playing with sea cucumbers on the beach and enjoying soba noodles at a restaurant just up the shoreline, there were a lot of memories in this place, ones that had been fueling his nightmares for years.

Before those dark thoughts could dig their claws into his arms, pulling him under, you leaned your body against his back, peering out the window with him. “Whoa, look at those waves!” Your breath fans against his cheek before you press your face against his. “We should go for a walk tonight once we’re all settled in!” As he had thought on the plane, you were doing exactly what he knew—making this whole excursion easier for him to process.

“Yeah, a walk sounds nice.”

Anything involving you sounds nice. The remainder of the ride to the condo is quiet. A peaceful, calm, serene, until you're dropped off at the condo building. That relaxed, tranquil feeling is replaced with a sense of excitement, especially when you both walk inside.

The condo was a one-bedroom, one-bath, one-bath condominium with a living room, kitchen, and balcony. What made it even better was that it was fully furnished with all the necessary furniture and necessities. Making it a perfect home away from home for the next few months. Suguru stepped inside, holding the door open for you, watching your eyes sparkle as you kicked your sandals off, running across the polished wood flooring. You made a beeline for the balcony window, your back straightened before your world around to face him as he shut the door.

“Suguru! We’re super close to the beach! We should go for that walk later tonight!”

The excitement planted across your face and thick in your voice had Suguru’s heart fluttering. “Yeah, weekend. I have to call the aquarium first and let them know we made it.”

“Hell yeah! I’ll go start unpacking!”

Suguru chuckled, watching as you carried all the bags to the bedroom. He quickly called his employer. Much like he thought this time in Okinawa would involve a lot of working and less playing. The aquarium Director wanted to stop in the office to discuss what they wanted and where the mural would be. They had also been kind enough to purchase all the supplies for him. Paints, brushes, ladders, everything he could want or need would be provided.

The director wanted Suguru to take the rest of the day off to settle in before you came in the next day, which was great—having a day off. Which meant he would be able to spend it with you. Maybe if things went right tonight, he could finally tell you how he felt because he was getting tired of hiding behind some bullshit excuse to ‘help’ you with your book.

“Hey,” Suguru tapped his knuckles against the door frame as he shoved his phone into his pocket. “So the aquarium said that we could—” When he enters the room, you glance up from your phone, and Suguru can see tears swelling in your eyes. His heart drops into his stomach as you quickly wipe at the falling tears. “What’s wrong?”

“Oh, nothing. I’m okay!”

“Please don’t lie to me.”

The talent of his voice leaves no room for arguments, which she’s anticipating you giving him. “Sugu.” But instead of arguing with him, you smile, blushing yourself off the bed before grabbing his hand. “I was just reading a fan someone wrote about Oaklynn and Ilsan!” You swallow hard, whiter as you squeeze his hand tight. “But what were you say about the aquarium?” Suguru knows there's more than just some fanfic behind your tears, but if you keep pushing, he’s afraid he’ll ruin the first night in the condo with you.

“They said we could take today to settle in.”

You both head to the store to get groceries to cook dinner together. The whole time, Suguru watches you with weary eyes. Knowing you guys were out and about, you seemed fine, but he also knew you. You were pretty talented at putting on a mask behind your genuine emotions. He signs that if you’re not doing better by the following day, he will bring it up again and confront you about what was happening.

The next day, you’re okay, and the following day and the day after that. He’s happy to see your smiling face with no traces of tears in them. He wishes his face mirrored yours. Instead of worrying about you, he’s beginning to worry more about himself. It’s not that being with you makes him sad or that living together for the last week hasn’t been what he has always dreamed about. Being with you was a dream come true. Waking up next to you, cooking meals with you, taking an evening stroll on the beach, and being with you were the best part of returning to Okinawa.

But it was the flashbacks he wasn’t loving.

Images of Riko on the beach, running down the sidewalk. Enjoying her life to the fullest, not knowing this would be the last trip she would ever take because of him.

The second night in the condo was when the nightmare started up again. The same ones he’d been having for years. Riko in the aquarium, the blue hue of the lights around turning red before he was lying down on the street, staring into her lifeless eyes, while her blood-stained mouth told him it was his fault. He hadn’t been fast enough and pushed you out of the way. He had chosen one over the other; those toxic thoughts were the source of the nightmares plaguing him. That also had him stirring in his sleep next to you.

You had been struggling to fall asleep. You and Suguru had been in Okinawa for a week, and you still hadn’t been able to break the news about the cottage to him. That was why you were so upset when you arrived and had been crying a week prior. Eventually, you knew you would have to come clean about it, but you couldn’t do that right now, not when he needed you.

Not wanting to linger on those thoughts any longer, you were about to turn onto your other side when Suguru gasped, yelling your name as he sat up in bed.

“Sugu?!”? You sat up with him, watching his chest. His eyes are brimming with tears. “Hey, I’m right here.” Very gently, you grabbed his thigh, squeezing him, grounding him. “I’m right here with you.”

Suguru breathed heavily and yanked your hand to his chest, holding it there as if he was afraid he would vanish if you didn’t touch him. Scooted towards him, sitting on your knees, watching the adrenaline coursing through his veins slowly settle down. His muscles relaxed, and he watched as the pulse in his throat slowed down. Once he calms down, you lean closer, copying your hand against his cheek.

Leaned into his lips against the palm of your hand. “Sorry.” He pressed another gentle kiss. “Did I wake you?” Shame and embarrassment clouded his eyes as they roamed over your face.

“No, I was already awake.” That seems to make his shoulders relax more. “Were you having a nightmare about me?”

“How did you—?”

“You screamed my name.”

Suguru averts his gaze, biting down on his bottom lip. “Sorry, I—I—uhm—“ your hand leaves his face quickly, grabbing his hand again and squeezing it.

“Talk to me, please.”

Suguru never went into details about his nightmares with you. He only talked about it with his therapist and had mentioned them to Gojo one night when he had been drinking. His therapist had said that it was his conscience. The guilt of what had happened was eating away at him. After increasing his meds, he had encouraged Suguru to talk to his friends about the nightmares, but he had never had the urge to.

Right this second, as he sat down in bed with you. Countless times, you had woken up alone, having to deal with the pain, fear, and memories in the dead of night. Now, it was different. You were with him held. This was why you had agreed to come with him to Okinawa. Even if the nightmares revolved around you, want to talk to anybody else about it

“I have nightmares about the accident over and over again. And it’s not just about Riko—it’s about you too.” Suguru went into details, telling you about the aquarium, Riko, and the street where she had died. In that dream, he described how Riko always blamed him for pushing you out of the way of the moving car. The entire time, you were silent, taking in his words, holding his hand, caressing the back of his knuckles with your thumb. You would give him a gentle, reassuring squeeze whenever his voice would crack or his gaze would linger on the sheets for too long.

You had known his nightmares were terrible, but you never knew how bad they were. Suguru had to suffer with them constantly. Of course, he would have insomnia! But there was one thing about the dreams that didn't make sense.

“Suguru, why do you think you pushed me out of the way?”

Your best friend blinked slowly, looking up from the bed to focus on your face. “Huh?” Confusion was etched into your features. “Be—because I did?” Suguru’s face contorted with confusion as you quickly moved forward, cupping his face in your hands.

“You didn't.” When he says nothing, you feel like your stomach is crawling up your throat. “Oh my god, Suguru, all these years, you seriously thought you had picked me over Riko?” His eyes go wide, and a mixture of relief and confusion swirls in the pit of his stomach. “Suguru, honey, I was across the street. Satoru stole my boba, so I chased him.”

“I—I don't remember that—”

“Of course you don't.” You stroked his cheeks with your thumbs. “You were crossing with Riko when the car lost control.” Images of that day flashed through Suguru’s mind. Him walking in front of Riko, grinning back at her on a perfect sunny day. “The second you saw the car coming, you turned around to grab her—” Your eyes watered as you could feel the heat creeping into his cheeks. “You wrapped her in your arms, shielding her. But her head hit the crib when you guys hit the ground.”

Hearing you tell him the truth, the details of what happened, brings the memories back. They were fuzzy and distorted, like a television during a horrible thunderstorm, but he could see the picture. You pouted, jumping up and down across the street as Satoru held your boba above his head. You were right; you were nowhere near him when the car lost control. It had just been him, Riko, and Kuroi.

He remembered the screaming and yelling as he heard the blaring car horn. Jumping into action, he grabbed Riko, pulling her into his chest, with his back towards the car. The hit hurt, but he tucked his body as he and Riko took the hit, slamming against the street hard. Everything hurt, and his ears had been ringing, but what mattered the most was that he and Riko were okay.

At least, that's what he had thought until he felt the warmth of spreading blood pooling beneath them.

The room felt like it was spinning as everything hit him at once. He hadn't pushed you out of the way. He tried to save Riko! He had shielded her. He didn't choose you over her.

“I—I tried to save her.”

“Yes, and it wasn't your fault that she passed. You did everything in your power to save her.” you brushed your thumbs over his flushed cheeks, watching as tears streamed down them. “It wasn't your fault.”

That truth, in a way, had set him free. Well, part of him, at least. That night, he lay there with you, watching you sleep, remembering how you screamed his name after he was hit, how you were the first person running towards him as soon as traffic stopped. You had been sobbing, stroking his hair back, holding his hand; you had been the one, holding his hand, sitting in the chair next to his hospital bed.

You, god, it was always you. How was it even possible for him to fall even deeper in love with you? He had to tell you how he felt, but he couldn't just blurt it out; he needed it to be perfect.

A week passed, and you were dragged down the sidewalk, grinning up at your best friend, who was holding your hand as tightly as he could. He was talking you to the aquarium to show you his work on the mural so far, which had been a vast improvement since he always dreaded going. But since last week, he seemed to be doing a bit better.

Just because he had realized that the accident itself was not his fault didn't mean he was going to heal overnight miraculously. It was more like he was a glass of dark water, and you had turned the faucet on, allowing clean water to start flowing in. Over time, the dark water would become more transparent and clearer. Riko and everything that happened here in Okinawa will always be part of Suguru, but thinking about it would be less painful over time.

“Come on, this way!” he grinned, pulling you through the halls and leading you to the area he’d been hired to work on.“I can’t wait to show you.”

“Okay! Okay!” You giggle, gripping his hand tighter as you enter the main aquarium you had been to when you were seventeen on your class trip.

The room had a certain blue hue as blue whales and other fish swam in the tanks around you. A wall on one side of the room had been zoned off with plastic covers, hiding what was going on behind the scenes. Suguru pulled the plastic cover back for you, and as you stepped inside. The second you’re both behind the fronted cover, Suguru turns on a light and points it to the wall.

There in all its well-sketched glory are Riko and the whales. You walk along the wall, fingers gently grazing over her sketched-out form, following the sketch. The wall had to be half a kilometer long, and seeing Suguru’s art on a wall like this was surreal. The pencil work was excellent to see it painted—you stopped in your tracks, taking in the wall.

It wasn’t just Riko, not anymore.

All your friends were there: Gojo, Shoko, Nanami, Haibara, Suguru, and you. Each of your friends was spread out, mixed in with different people, each other except for you and Suguru. The two of you were standing near each other. Seeing you on the wall near your best friend, depicting both of you grinning at each other, made your heart race.

God, you wanted to be with him so bad. You wanted to be more than friends. Especially now, seeing what he had drawn made you realize how badly you wanted to be his girlfriend.

“What do you think?” Suguru asked as he joined your side, his hand rubbing against the back of his neck. “Do you like it?”

“I love it.”

“Yeah? The aquarium staff seem to like it, too.” His fingers trace over the pencil markings on the wall. “I can’t remember the last time I had been so excited about doing a piece like this.” You watch with bated breath as Suguru runs his thumb over your drawing on the wall. “I have a pretty amazing muse and friend to thank for pushing me.”

Friend.

You swallow hard, clenching your hands tight. Tonight, you would finally take Yuki’s advice and show him how you felt about him. You could do this!

While those thoughts were in your mind, you ran through different scenarios. Suguru was thinking about his plans. Tonight was the night he was going to tell you how he felt. He’s going to sit down with you and have an honest conversation about how much you meant to him. he wasn’t going to allow this façade to continue. Now was the time for honesty.

Honestly, it ended up with you kissing each other the second you made it back to the condo. Your hands tangled in his dark hair, and you kissed him with no remorse while he reciprocated with gentler kisses. You kicked the door shut, moaning into his mouth while he locked the door. You pushed him inside, turning into the bedroom, where you shoved him against the bed.

“Wh-whoa—“ he chuckled nervously, pushing himself on his elbows. “What’s gotten into you—mmhm!” You straddled his hip, kissing him harder, rocking eagerly against his crotch with whimpers and whines. Suguru groaned, hands twitching as he resisted the urge to grab your hips and rock you faster against him. “Y-You break that writer's bl—ahh fuck.”

“Mhmm.” Your pussy twitches against the hardening bulge in his pants. “Mmm~.” Gentle kisses are planted down Suguru’s neck, over and over, down to the collar of his shirt, where your teeth nip at.

“Princess—we should—“

“Shh, just relax.” You pull back, tugging your shirt over your head and throwing it to the ground before you do the same to Suguru.

Fuck, it was hard to relax with you being so seductive. Your perfect, beautiful body rocks and rolls against him, leaving Suguru wholly enamored by how gorgeous you look on top of him. His shaky hands gently grab your hips holding them, and you try with all of your might to rock against his cock.

You fight against his hold; you need him to know how much you care about him. You wanted to be more than just friends. Showing him how you felt was going to be your best bet. What better way to tell him you want to be more than friends than sleeping with him? If it worked for Yuki, surely it would work for you.

Reaching around your back, you unclasp your bra, allowing the flimsy fabric to fall to the bed, revealing your bare tits. They jiggle with each roll of your hips against his. You can feel his fingers digging into your hips before you slowly trail up the sides of your body. His fingers caress over your sensitive skin before inching further and further up until they cup your breasts.

As his hands gently massage them, your head rocks back while you rut your hips faster against his jeans. His cock throbs hard at your sensual rocking while his thumbs gently rub circles over your nipples, and his fingers knead at your sweet soft breasts. Out of all of the sessions you two had shared, this was by far the most sensual one. This felt real and raw.

Suguru felt it, too, as did how hot and heavy things were getting. He could feel how wet you were through your panties that hid underneath your floral skirt. He could see it in your face, the way your skin flushed, and your eyes rolled back as your hands gripped his pectoral muscles for support as you rolled your hips harder against his throbbing cock. That’s when he knew this wasn’t about your research; this was you taking control, taking what you wanted. He would’ve been happy for you to do that any other time.

But he didn’t want to be a one-time thing.

“Princess.” He began watching as you sat back on the heels of your feet, unbuckling his belt, the clanking of the metal deafening. “Princess.”

“It’s okay,” you pull the zipper to his jeans, tugging them down to his thighs.

“Hey—” his boxers are pulled down.

“Shh—” The Floral skirt is the next to go, flying across the room before your panties join it.

“Hey.”

“Sugu—”

“I can’t do this!”

He shouted, sitting up completely and staring at your naked body as your eyes widened with shock. Did Suguru not want to take this further? Was all of this to help you with your book, like really help you, nothing more than that?

Your chest heaves as your hands cover your breasts while you quickly slide off of his lap. Embarrassment, shame, and Amy of other emotions settle in your heart and stomach as his words repeatedly replay in your mind. This is not what you had anticipated when you sent your plan in motion. You thought that maybe deep down inside, he felt the same way you did.

Your eyes and the inside of your nose begin to burn with tears that you’re trying hard to hold back. What were you even supposed to say in a moment like this? What was the proper etiquette for being turned down by your best friend you had fallen in love with over the years? The only thing you could think was to collect your clothes and leave.

Before you even have a chance to jump off the bed and grab your panties to slide back on, Suguru pulls you back into his arms. Your bare chest is pressed firmly against his. The sudden reconnection of your body makes you inhale sharply as his hands slowly down your back.

“I can’t hook up with you.”

“Yeah, you made that clear, Sugu—“

“Stop!” One of his hands rests against the smell of your back while the other grabs you by the back of your head, pressing your forehead firmly against his. “I can’t just hook up with you because I love you!”

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bad268 · 10 months

Note

could you write some fluff for kimi antonelli?? you write him so well 😭😭 maybe when kimi's caught out in public by fans w his girlfriend being affectionate or something 🙏💗

Caught (Andrea Kimi Antonelli X Reader)

Fandom: RPF/Formula 2/3

Requested: Clearly (thank you for being patient <3)

Warnings: none.

Pronouns: You/your

W.C. 1276

Summary: Secret relationships get revealed when celebrating the championship win.

As always, my requests are OPEN

MASTERLIST // HITLIST

~~(^Pinterest)

Kimi was a very private person. He just wasn’t very open with his personal life. Especially those who are closest to him. This includes you, his significant other.

You two had originally met in karting but officially met at the Italian Formula 4 Championship as competitors and teammates. However, certain circumstances led to you dropping out of the championship.

Kimi was the only person to stay in contact with you after the departure.

One thing led to another, you both stayed in contact, and you have been together for just under a year now.

Not that any of the fans would know! As said before, Kimi is a very private person, and that includes you. The only people who really know about your relationship are your respective families and the Prema team. The team found out when you suddenly came back into the garage with Kimi’s dad after leaving the sport almost six months prior. In all honesty, they saw it coming from a mile away.

You tried to come to the most recent race, the last race of the season. You really did, but it was not your fault that you were bedridden with the flu in Italy. Kimi still wanted to try his best at the last race because he wanted to show his skills to Prema and Mercedes, maybe to you too knowing how you were feeling unwell, despite already securing the championship.

After he finished up the podium celebrations from race 2, he sent you a text, letting you know he was cleaning up and would be doing media before he could call you. In all honesty, you were asleep, so you did not see it until nearly two hours later.

Instead of responding, you decided to send him a selfie of you laying in the bed with the text, “Just woke up, did I miss anything?”

On the track, Kimi stepped away to get some peace from the chaos that is media and fans after a season closer. He found a fairly desolate section as he opened his messages. He had been checking them periodically, hoping to see a response from you, but he never saw one. It never even showed as read, so he assumed you were asleep.

Just as he opens his messages, he sees the notification of a picture sent by you. He opens the picture without a second thought, laughing lightly at the face you made before he immediately sends one back with all of the updates he has. After sending a couple of funny pictures back and forth, you decided to just call him.

Little did he know, a couple of fans had walked up behind him, hoping to record his reaction to a picture they made him, and they watched him send you pictures and listened in as he talked to you. They had evidence that Kimi had a significant other; they just needed to find out who it was.

A week later, back in Italy, you and Kimi were finally able to celebrate his championship win. Despite insisting that you wanted to plan everything and arguing (shortly) with Kimi over it, you both decided that you would alternate things to do.

Kimi chose breakfast. It was only right that as the champion, he got to choose where you started. It was a simple breakfast at home that you both made together and it definitely did not end with you both covered in flour.

Then, Kimi had a couple of meetings, so you had to put a hold on the celebrations. This gave you time to think about what your plan was for the rest of the day as if you did not already know exactly what you were going to do.

So when lunch came, you chose Kimi’s favorite restaurant. Plus, he was finally able to eat it since the season was over, and you got special permission from his nutritionist. It was the best place to splurge after a win. An added bonus, it was fairly empty save for a few small groups. No one paid either of you any mind.

After lunch, Kimi chose to do a walk around your favorite park. It was a fairly desolate park, but it was one that you grew up going to all the time. Kimi knew it was a calming place for you.

Not to mention, there were swings. Who doesn’t love swings?

The swings were side by side, so as soon as you arrived at the park, you took off toward them, laughing as you left Kimi in your dust. Just as you were about to reach the swings, Kimi catches up. He picked you up and spun you around briefly before setting you back down.

You turned around in his arms as you held onto his biceps, smirking up at him. “You think you’ve won, don’t you?” He chuckled as he looked at you skeptically, but it changed immediately when you darted off into the open field. You shouted behind you, “You’ll need to catch me first!”

And once again, it was like you were on the track again. Living life like there was no tomorrow, having fun doing the most minuscule things, all the while with someone you really cared about. It was like the old Prema challenges you did with Kimi and Conrad. It made you miss the simpler things.

You were off in your own little world, casually going back and forth laughing and chasing after each other around the park. At one point, Kimi tackled you and you rolled around the grass before he stopped, leaning over you, “I caught you.”

Just as he was leaning down, that was when you heard it. The clicking of a camera. Turns out a group of fans saw you at the restaurant earlier and followed you to the park.

Your heads snapped toward the group, and instead of getting upset, Kimi calmly walked over to them to offer autographs and pictures.

“Are you two together?” One asked immediately.

“Weren’t they your F4 teammate?” The other asked.

“You two are cute together,” One gushed.

“How long have you been together, if you don’t mind us asking?” The last one asked.

“Yes, yes, thank you, and almost a year,” Kimi answered honestly with a small smile as he continued signing things. He took a couple of pictures with them before chucking as he continued his original thought, “We haven’t announced it yet, but we’re planning it.”

“I got a good shot,” The third fan exclaimed, pulling out their phone to show him the picture. It was of him leaning over you just before you noticed their presence. This was the picture that alerted you of the audience. “I can send it to you if you want to use it.”

“That would be great. I’ll credit you in it too,” He laughed, looking back at you, still sitting on the grass, hiding your face from the onlookers. Kimi sighed, turning back to the group to make a deal, “I’m going to head back to them, but send it to me, and we’ll post it tomorrow. Just don’t post any of the pictures please.”

He didn’t give them much time to reply before he walked back over to you and sat behind you. His body shielding you away from the rest of the people, your backs toward the group. Kimi leaned his head on your shoulder as he wrapped his arms around your torso and showed you his phone.

The Instagram DM from the fan had already arrived, and he wanted you to see the picture. “I think this is the perfect way to announce us.”

~~~

Part 2 ->

~~~~~

#andrea kimi antonelli x reader #andrea kimi antonelli #kimi antonelli x reader #kimi x reader #kimi antonelli #freca #formula 2 x reader #formula 3 x reader #formula regional #formula 2 imagine #f2 x reader #f3 x reader #f2 imagine #f3 #f2 #bad268 #ship268 #thing268

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crescencestudio · 4 months

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๋࣭⭑ Devlog #41 | 5.28.24 ๋࣭⭑

It's hot girl (/gender neutral) summer season

HAPPY MAY!!

Hope you're all doing well <3 We're already getting into summer, which is a little crazy to me. The year is flying by! Before I get into what we actually did this month, it wouldn't be a May devlog without our annual Mermay celebration!

Look at those locks. His Ariel/Rapunzel era fr

Since I already had updated Mermay pieces for the Alaris LIs, I decided to do one for our beloved Van this year ^^ Hope you all like it!

For writing this month, I spent a lot of it catching up on Etza edits. Being totally transparent, I wasn't Completely Happy with their route when their draft was finished. But now that I've started the editing process with Wudgey, I'm really excited to see how their route is shaping up!!! We've been fleshing a lot of little interactions out with their route, and I can already see Etza's character really starting to shine with these edits ^^

I've also been chipping away at Kuna'a's route! While it's nowhere near finished, I'm hopeful that this upcoming month will be the month of Kuna'a now that I don't have a bunch of releases I'm trying to balance. His route is also one of the ones whose outline is more fleshed out (Druk and Etza I would say were the least fleshed out, which might be why they also took a bit longer). So I'd love to see Kuna'a's first draft complete/almost complete by the next devlog!

This month, I had to dust off my art skills tbh LMFAOIJSDF. It's been.... a WHILE since I've made CGs since I've been in the writing and coding dungeon for so long. So most of this month's art updates are me getting tilted from redrawing an ugly sketch over and over.

I DID manage to get the Van Mermay piece out. And I also was able to sketch out Kayn's Tragic End CG; that leaves only one CG that has to be sketched out! Currently, six of their CGs are finished, two need to be rendered, and one needs to be drawn still.

And since Kayn's CGs are mostly done, I've started drawing Fenir's. I was actually able to finish one because I basically Locked In when I made it, so here is a sneak peek!

Kisses his little pink nose

You might notice there's not toooo many updates on this month's devlog. The reason for that is because this month, I spent a lot of it recovering both mentally and physically. April shenanigans and those back-to-back releases took a lot out of me, and after going full speed basically since this year started, I learned I REALLY needed a break. That coupled with the concussion I got made it so that most of this month was focused on recovering and then getting back into the groove of things.

Another thing I tried to focus on this month was finding a balance in my workflow. Going into this month, I felt like I was on the verge of a mental breakdown almost every day, in large part because I have a lot of big things I'm trying to accomplish this year. Between finishing my dissertation, Alaris, and a personal big event that I have to plan, I have a lot on my plate this year, and it's made it easy to get overwhelmed as the months pass by. So I wanted to find a balance between all three that didn't make me feel like I was also falling into insanity. After talking to beloved Wudgey of @herotome fame, I've started adopting a schedule that gives me enough structure and flexibility to feel like I'm making progress without going crazy and getting lost in the sauce.

While it's still early in the process, I'm really happy with the balance I've hit, and I'm feeling much more like myself now compared to a month ago!

I caught up on quite a few things in my backlog this month, which made me happy ^^ I always like to learn from and support other devs, so finally being able to return to that helped with the recovery process <3

I don't have any actual fanart pieces, but there are a couple of games I'd like to highlight!

First of all, of course I must talk about our hot girl (/gender neutral) summer cross-promo. If you haven't checked out these games, I can't recommend them enough!!

Links to each game can be found on the Alaris Game page under the magic and mystery otome section!

Specifically, Save the Villainess, The Good People, and Thorn for the Villain are amazing games if you're into thriller/political games layered with mystery

The Silent Kingdom (which I played recently and is AMAZING) and Dual Chroma (Otojam 2023 ALLY) have added mechanics of RPG for exciting action-adventure fantasy stories

Lost in Limbo, Obscura, and Snow White Ashes are BEAUTIFUL dark fantasy games. I've played all three of these and they have some of the most beautiful writing and visuals... BIG FAN OF ALL OF THEM.

Mask Beyond Lies and Sigh of the Abyss have that epic fantasy adventure appeal to them, in a way that I think is similar to Alaris! And Pearlglow Cafe (another Otojam 2023 ALLY) is a very lighthearted and charming game for those of you who like the comfy vibe that most of my stories have!!

Some other games that I played are Favor (@favorvn) by beloved @concreteparasite which is SOOOOO stylish. If you've played Binary Star Hero by Connie, you can expect that same stylish, dark, sultry vibe from Favor. If you haven't checked out either of those games by Connie, I can't recommend them enough, especially if you like yanderes. There is so much aesthetic and atmosphere to them!

I also played Where Winter Crows Go by @prikarin who is a VERY talented developer (and one I'm sure many are familiar with). I had a lot of fun romancing Crowe and both the MC and him have such strong personalities, it was so fun seeing their dynamic!!!! The CGs were also made by anta, who is the dev behind Thorn for the Villain, and they're BEAUTIFULLLLL. Each one has so much style and rly has a professional look to them. Can't recommend enough if you haven't played already ((heads up that it is another yandere game for those who can't do yandere!))

Okay I've yapped enough. If you've made it this far, you are god's strongest soldier LFMASLDIFJ. See you all next month with hopefully some exciting progress!

#devlog #alaris

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nolita-fairytale · 1 year

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comfort & chaos (carmy berzatto x fem!reader) chapter one: october 2019

summary: the five times carmen berzatto fell in love with you a little and the one time he finally told you: carmy, the recently promoted chef du cuisine at the best restaurant in the world, has no idea what he's in for when he accidentally spills his drink on the recently hired patissiere. (prequel to make my heart surrender)

warnings: swearing, no use of y/n, she/her pronouns, drinking & smoking, suggestive language. eventual smut.

word count: 4.5k

listen to: dover beach part 2 - baby queen | alaska - maggie rogers | less than i do - the band camino | 2 / 14 - the band camino

a/n: i'm back back back again! this is six part series will be a snapshot of carmy x reader's relationship in nyc that span across a three year period. i'm really looking forward to writing their friendship & so much repressed sexual tension it's not even funny. this is the first story i've published without it being almost or fully written so updates will maybe be more sporadic this time.

October 2019

“i was hoping somehow we'd end up together, outside, past midnight, and smoking cigarettes. the wallpaper inside my brain is decorated with your face. i'm lonely for you only, and i'm trying to convince you that i'm something you could love.” – dover beach (pt 2)

He hates you.

You’re absolutely sure of it.

You can see it in the way his body stiffens as you walk by – in the way he hasn’t stopped sending you long, piercing glares across the kitchen – in just how bright red his face turns when you catch him doing it.

And for what? For being excellent? For being good enough to get a job after staging that one night?

Fuck that, you think to yourself.

You find Carmen Berzatto infuriating, and it begins to dawn on you that you may have had one too many gin cocktails to stomach the fact that you have to be here tonight.

Here, at his promotion party.

Here, at this stupid fucking bar that you hate.

Here, because he’s sort of everyone’s boss now… and it’s something you’re just going to have to live with.

It hadn’t come as much of a surprise. There’d been talk of a leadership change (and Carmy filling the CDC position) when you had first started working here, but having a head’s up didn’t really help you now. You just hadn’t pictured having to go out for drinks to celebrate the man that seemed like he could barely stand being in the same room as you. But your friend Liz, one of the chef de parties at the restaurant, had insisted you come with, since she hadn’t wanted to go alone. You understood why you both had to go, so you’d invited your other best friend to help the both of you get through.

You thank your lucky stars that your direct report is the head pastry chef and not Carmy. Using your boss as a buffer, you had used every excuse in the book to avoid interacting with him.

Sure, he was brilliant.

Sure, he was a wunderkind who had just gotten back from a three month stage at noma right before he was hired here.

Sure, he was kind of a total asshole.

“Fuck that, man! C’mon. Just one shot. It’s your big night, motherfucker!” Nate calls out, practically shoving a shot into Carmy’s hand.

“Oh, I- uh, I’m good, man,” Carmy stutters, trying to find an excuse not to take the shot.

Truthfully, he hates shots… and he’s not much of a vodka drinker either.

He’s just not in the mood to get hammered either, his thoughts consumed with tomorrow, his first day as chef du cuisine, going perfectly.

You watch the uncomfortable interaction, almost feeling bad for the guy. Nate and the most recently promoted sous, Tim, are trying their best to corral Carmy into taking the shot as you walk by. You can see the uncomfortable look on Carmy’s face as he declines Nate’s offer for a second time.

In fact, he seems like a different person tonight. He’s… boyishly awkward, almost, and you wonder if he’s maybe not so great in social situations. As you pass by, drink in hand, you hear a cacophony of sound. Carmy’s trying his best to dodge his friends’ next attempt, and before you know it, Nate’s practically pushing him towards Tim, sending Carmy backwards, tumbling right into you.

You feel the wet liquid of your gin and tonic, along with the shot of vodka that’s flown out of Carmy’s hand spill all over your shirt. The shot glass shatters as it hits the floor, and the sobering feeling of ice cold liquid soaking through your shirt causes you to shriek.

“Shit! What the fuck, Carmy!” you yell, angrily, as you push him off of you.

At this point, you could care less that he’s everyone’s new boss, and the drama of it all has caught the attention of almost all of the other restaurant staff that have come out tonight. Your friends rush towards you, searching for as many napkins as they can grab.

“Fffffuck,” is all he says back and you can’t believe he’s yelling at you right now. You watch as his face changes quickly, from angry, to thoroughly shocked as he begins to stammer through an apology.

“I-. I’m sorry I-. I didn’t mean to-.”

He scrambles to help you, with one cocktail napkin as you push him away, your friends rushing to your side.

“No! I don’t want your help,” you grit through a clenched jaw.

“Shit, your shirt is ruined… C’mon,” Liz says, as she ushers you away shooting a glare in Carmy’s direction.

“Damn, man. You could just ask her out,” you can hear Nate say, even though you’re too preoccupied with examining the damage of your totally soaked through t-shirt.

So much for a chill evening.

“Oh shut up, Nate,” Maya snaps at the sous. “Let’s get you cleaned up.” You nod, following her as she leads you away towards the bathroom.

Back at the bar, Liz is trying her best to remedy the situation, trying her best to clean up the mess you left behind. She watches Carmy closely, trying to figure out whether she’s going to pay for this tomorrow. But instead of being angry, he just seems embarrassed… remorseful, even. There’s a small part of her that feels bad for the guy as it becomes clearer that he may just not be great in social situations.

As soon as you get to the single-room bathroom, you're swearing loudly and stripping off your shirt. It’s completely see through and you know you’re going to smell like a distillery until you can get home to shower.

“I told you. He hates me,” you pout, examining your reflection in the mirror, a scowl glued to your face. You dap a few dry paper towels across your chest.

“I think it was just an accident, sweetie,” Maya says, sympathetically, as she tries her best to console you.

“Yeah, I know,” you admit in defeat.

As much as you’d like to blame this on him, you know it wasn’t his fault.

“Sorry I asked you to come tonight. If I knew it would be this much drama-,” you begin, before being promptly cut off.

“Oh no, I’m all here for this drama,” she laughs, causing you to shake your head and lighten up a little about the situation.

As angry as you’d like to be with Carmy, you know that the truth of the matter is that he hadn’t meant to spill his drink all over you. You should be mad at Nate and Tim… but it just feels easier to be mad at Carmy considering.

“Incoming!” you hear a voice say as Liz arrives. In her hands, she holds what looks like a white t-shirt, neatly folded up, that she hands to you. “Anyone in need of dry clothes?”

“Oh thank god,” you sigh with relief, glady taking it.

“Good on you for having an extra,” Maya says.

“Well, it’s a restaurant. You never know when you’re gonna need a change of clothes,” Liz shrugs, a glimmer in her eyes that Maya notices, as she says it. You find it a little strange that she seems to be watching you for a reaction, but you brush off the look she sends you, as you slide the dry t-shirt over your head.

The t-shirt isn’t much bigger than an oversized fit you’d buy for yourself – which makes sense because Liz is a bit taller than you. The cotton fabric hangs loosely over your form as your eyes flicker over to your completely soaked through shirt that lays crumpled up on the bathroom sink.

“Well, ladies. We did our best,” you resign yourself, as you notice your still-very-wet bra begin soaking through the white t-shirt.

“C’mon. Let’s see if we can get some more paper towels. Or uh.. See if the kitchen has a towel we can use,” Liz says, nodding her head towards the door.

“We’ll be right back,” Maya reassures you, empathy in her eyes.

You watch as Liz follows her, leaving you alone in the bathroom.

It doesn’t take long for the door to the bathroom to swing open again, which surprises you. You gasp as soon as you see who's come through the door, and you’re crossing your arms over your chest which may only make the wet bra, white t-shirt ordeal even worse. A very flustered Carmy stands in the doorway, his mouth hanging open as if he hadn’t expected you to be in here.

“There’s uh… someone in here,” you scoff, unable to hide the irritation in the sound of your voice. You hug your arms closer to yourself, almost as if to cover yourself up.

“No I-, yeah, I know I just-,” he stammers, his eyes shifting to the floor. He feels like he’s walked in on something he shouldn’t have, and he can feel all the blood rushing to his face, instantly regretting his decision not to knock first.

“I actually, uh… I came to apologize,” he manages to get out, his words quiet. He says it as if there’s an unintentional question mark at the end of his sentence. You can see the way he runs his eyes back and forth, trailing over the fancy floor tile, searching for the right words.

“I didn’t mean to- I just-. Sorry…”

His demeanor surprises you. At work, Carmy’s this confident, commandeering, talented chef, but tonight, he seems anything but.

Nervous. Shy. Like a fish out of water, even.

You take a breath, trying your best to relax.

You can feel some of your guard coming down as you begin to accept he really hadn’t meant to spill his drink on you. But you’re not eager to forget the fact that he’s been kind of an asshole to you since you started working here. Unsure of how to respond, you give literal effort to replying with a:

“It’s fine. Thanks.”

He knows you don’t mean it.

In fact, he can hear how painful it is for you to get out those words.

You wait for him to leave, but Carmy continues to stand in the bathroom with you, awkwardly. But he doesn’t say anything, so you figure that the least you can do is deflect a little with humor.

“I’ll uh-, invoice you for the therapy session,” you say, trying to eliminate any malice in your tone so that he knows you’re joking. “Walking home in a wet shirt on the streets of NYC is gonna be… fun.”

“Oh uh…” he trails off, his face turning a darker shade of red.

“I’m kidding,” you state, searching his face for any kind of expression.

This man is impossible to read, you think to yourself.

His eyes are still glued to the floor as he begins to move, mumbling something you can’t quite hear in response to your failed joke. Carmy slides out of the denim jacket he’s wearing, before taking hold of it, extending an arm out to you.

“Sorry um-. Here,” he says nervously, and it’s the first time he’s allowed his eyes to meet yours. “You can uh-. You can wear this. For your walk home.”

Well, that wasn’t what you were expecting.

And had his eyes always been that blue?

Your face softens.

You take the jacket hesitantly, holding it in your hands. This time you mean it when you say:

“Thanks.”

“Least I could do,” he shrugs, daring to meet your eyes with his again.

You slip the jacket over your shoulders as the two of you stand a few feet apart. The air feels thick, and at this point, you’re not sure how to feel. Even though your bra has continued to soak through the white t-shirt, the way his denim jacket feels wrapped around your shoulders feels like an added layer of protection.

“After uh-. You know I-,” he stumbles through.

“Yeah. No I uh-. Thanks, again,” you repeat, cutting him off.

Might as well put the poor guy out of his misery.

“Anyways, I’ll make sure to get this back to you,” you interject, your voice much more reassuring this time.

“Yeah,” he nods.

You swear you can almost see the corner of his lips turn up, but you’ve never really seen him smile, so it’s not like you have much to compare it to. Carmy excuses himself, and you watch as he leaves, genuinely grateful for the peace offering.

The way that Carmy’s jacket hangs heavily around your shoulders makes you wonder if it’s real denim. You notice that it smells like him too: a faint scent of cigarettes, Old Spice deodorant, whatever scented laundry detergent he uses that feels familiar.

You and Carmy don’t speak again, save for a few short exchanges at work, but he’s been on your mind. Your interaction the other night had left an impression on you – albeit a strange one – and you’re not sure why you haven’t returned his jacket yet.

It’s not till a few days later that you speak again, leaving another strange impression on you. You head into the walk-in to get a few quarts of heavy cream and as you pull the door open, you find a flustered Carmy standing there. He’s got his hands on his hips and eyes glued to the floor with an exasperated look on his face as he watches the plastic storage containers he’s just thrown clamor across the floor. You gasp, shocked by the loud sounds, and Carmy knows he’s not alone.

As he turns to you with a glare on his face, you notice that Carmy’s eyes are puffy, his cheeks flushed red, and he looks sick as a dog.

His eyes are wide with embarrassment for a moment, before returning to their normal, stoic focus, hardened by a less than positive interaction with the exec chef.

“Sorry,” he mutters, uncomfortably. He gestures towards the storage containers on the floor, before running a hand through his neatly slicked back hair.

“It’s uh, you’re good, chef,” you say, trying your best to put your wall of professionalism up.

You had witnessed the demeaning encounter from the exec chef – everyone had. It had been impossible not to. He’d practically breathed down Carmy’s neck, taunting him for his lack of focus today, that he’s a little bitch for letting allergies get to him.

To say that the man was emotionally abusive would be an understatement.

You should leave – turn and go, and pretend that this never happened – that you’d seen nothing. But instead, you stay.

“You good, chef?” you ask softly, a hint of concern in your voice.

He sniffles again, the searing headache that robs him of his focus only burning brighter after what just happened.

“Yeah, no. I’m fine,” he snaps, refusing to look at you.

You wait for him to say something more, only he doesn’t. You can see he’s not feeling well and that he must be feeling worse after his metaphorical public stoning in the town square. He’s not sure what the hell it is you’re waiting for, and he just needs another fucking second to himself.

“Why are you still here?” he grits through teeth, his eyes fixed to the floor.

You open your mouth to say something, but you’re honestly not sure why you’re still in the walk-in with him either.

Maybe because you know that the exec chef is a total monster.

That he shouldn’t have talked to Carmy like that.

That you can understand why he’d be upset.

“Chef!” he says, raising his voice a little louder and flinging his hands towards the door. “Will you just-?”

You nod, a feeling of embarrassment filling your chest, as you realize he wants you to leave. You hurry out of the walk-in, closing the door behind you as you escape, your heavy cream quart containers in hand.

“You good?” Liz asks, as soon as she sees you come out of the walk-in. She’s passing by to bring a few deli containers over to the dish station.

“What?” you ask back in surprise, unaware that you look visibly shaken up.

“You look… flustered is all,” she points out.

“Oh. Yeah. I just uh-, Carmy’s in there. Throwing a fit. He just uh… snapped at me is all. But what’s new?” you reply, trying your best to shake it off.

She rolls her eyes in response, “Yeah, he can be like that. Thank your lucky stars that you don’t have to work under him.”

You let out an annoyed exhale. It’s a funny feeling – one that leaves you a little confused: one minute he’s this chivalrous guy that’s handing you his jacket to wear home and the next he’s practically tearing your head off to get out of the walk-in. You can’t quite figure him out. He’s so hot and cold, you’re not sure what to expect from him anymore.

As you and Liz are about to part ways, you remember that you have to give her back her borrowed shirt.

“Oh!” you say, calling her attention before she returns to her station.

“I have your shirt, by the way,” you say. “From the other night.”

“Oh,” she says, her eyes lighting up. “Okay weird timing considering he’s being such an asshole today but uh…. Yeah. The shirt’s... not mine. I forgot to tell you.”

You send her a puzzled look as she shrugs.

“I didn’t think you’d take it if I told you but… it’s Carmy’s. He pulled it out of his bag when he spilled the drink on you,” she informs, waiting to gauge your reaction.

“What do you mean?” you ask.

“You were so mad at him that I just figured-, it doesn't matter. He pulled it out of his bag to give to you. I think he felt really fucking bad, babe,” she interjects, revealing the truth.

Well now you’re really fucking confused.

And after your little interaction with him in the walk-in, there’s no way you’re going to bring it up to him today.

“Oh. Yeah um, got it,” you reply, feeling even more confused than when you started the day.

You show up to work the next day with the t-shirt and his jacket tucked into a canvas tote bag you plan on giving to Carmy. You’d decided to wait till you had them both, and you’re also hoping that he’s in a better mood today.

Only, Carmy’s not here today.

“Yeah, he’s out sick. Looks like those allergies turned out to be a nasty head cold,” your general manager had informed you when you’d asked about where Carmy was. “Looks like Tim’s filling in today for him.”

“Got it. Thanks, Kate” you’d replied.

Later on your mid-shift break, you’d then mustered up all the courage possible to ask if anyone had checked in on Carmy. Kate, your GM, had answered no, and had been more than happy to give you his address so that you could do so. You’re not sure why you feel like it’s the right thing to do, but between his act of kindness at the bar, and his outburst in the walk-in yesterday, you figure it wouldn’t hurt to show him a little kindness. Not that you feel like you owe him or anything.

Maybe you just want to give him his clothes back and be done with it.

Maybe you’re also deeply confused about who the hell Carmen Berzatto really is.

Maybe the mystery of it intrigues you a little more than you’d like to admit.

Dinner service flies by quickly – a string of non-stop orders helps the time go faster. Carmy’s apartment is on your way home, so it’s a no-brainer to make the trip. You stop on your way at a deli nearby, picking up a quart of matzo ball soup, before heading over to his apartment.

When you get there, you knock on the door three times, anxiety beginning to flood you.

What if he thinks this is totally creepy – that you just got his address from the general manager? What if he thinks you’re stalking him? What if he hates the fact that you’re even there in the first place?

You wonder if you should just leave the soup at the door and run as fast as you can so that, by the time he answers the door, you’re gone.

Just as you’re bending down to place the quart container down by his door, the door swings open to reveal a very congested Carmy. His curls seem wilder than normal as he looks genuinely surprised to see you crouching in the hall of his apartment.

“Hi!” you practically shout, taken off guard as you rise to your feet.

“Yo,” he says, blinking a few times to make sure he’s not dreaming. “What’s uh-, what’s going on?”

It’s weird – seeing Carmy outside of the restaurant, outside of his chef whites. His usually slicked back, out-of-his-face hair falls in the messiest most unruly curls around his face in a way that's surprisingly unkempt. He’s… almost human-like.

“This is for you,” is all you manage to say, handing him the quart container.

“Uh… thanks,” he trails off, taking it and checking out the matzo ball soup.

You’re not sure where to begin, how to explain why the hell you’re here, so you just start talking.

“I uh… your place was on the way home,” you begin. “I hope it’s okay but I got your address from Kate. I actually used to go to this deli all the time when I was a kid with my parents and I forgot that it was in your neighborhood so I just figured that I should pick something up on the way over since I heard you were sick and uh-.”

Carmy shoots you a look and he almost looks amused.

“... I’m rambling, aren’t I?” you ask, a light blush running across your cheeks.

“Yeah,” he nods, a dry laugh following.

You wait a beat, collecting yourself. You’re not sure why this is so weird, but it’s so weird.

“I came by because…” you start, digging through your canvas tote bag that’s draped across your right shoulder. “... I wanted to return these to you.”

You hold out the jacket and t-shirt folded up together to Carmy, his eyes following them.

“Liz told me that the shirt was yours too. I just-, I know we don’t always… that you don’t-, I don’t know what I’m trying to say. I know it’s kind of weird at work sometimes but… I guess I just wanted to say thank you. For these. Hence the soup,” you finally explain.

“No problem,” Carmy nods, taking them in his empty hand, before disappearing momentarily to place them somewhere inside of his apartment.

You’re only a little disappointed by his short response, yet you’re not sure you expected anything else. He returns only seconds later.

“It’s uh-, Cool jacket,” you say. You can’t tell whether you’re making small talk or just saying something out of discomfort, but it seems to pique Carmy’s interest.

“It actually reminds me of the denim jacket that John Lennon used to wear ”

“You know denim?” he asks, and you could swear that you see his eyes light up for a moment.

“No, but I know music,” you reply.

“Uh I mean. Yeah. It is…” he says, with a nod, a hint of excitement in the words that follow. “Not the actual one he wore but… it’s a 1950s selvedge Wrangler. Just like Lennon.”

So he wasn’t just a fine-dining robot.

“Wow I didn’t know you were into all that,” you say, feeling some of the tension between the two of you melt. “Denim, I mean.”

“Something I picked up from my brother, I guess,” he shrugs, shyly.

“That’s funny,” you chuckle.

“Hm?” he hums in response.

“Just… the thought of you having a brother,” you clarify, jokingly. “Thought you were like… grown in a lab at noma or something.”

And Carmy almost smiles, you think.

“Nope. Just Chicago,” he replies, enjoying the act of sharing something with you.

“Ahhh,” you sound, following it up with another small laugh. “Well, I’ll let you get some rest. Enjoy the soup.”

“Yeah, uh. Thanks for this,” he says, holding up the brown bag.

“Of course,” you reply, turning to go.

But you don’t go yet, not ready to let go of the momentary connection you’ve built with Carmy

"You know it doesn’t have to be like this,” you say, turning back to him. He's staring at you, just like he does in the kitchen. It’s another long, languid look that makes you realize that maybe they haven’t been hate-glares after all.

“We don't have to do this... start over every time we see each other.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you agree with a nod. “I mean, I've already worn your clothes so… it’s a rather… intimate thing for us to just be strangers….”

He listens attentively.

"We could… coworkers… friends, even,” you suggest, hesitantly.

“Me and you?” he asks, a puzzled look on his face. You’re not sure if he’s surprised by what you’ve said, or if he’s about to laugh in your face.

“If you want,” you nod in response.

He waits a beat, and you watch his facial expressions soften a little as he finally says, “Yeah. Yeah, okay.”

You smile at him, the man you thought hated you, wants to be friends with you. You get a wicked idea, letting out a chuckle before continuing.

“Great. There’s just one thing,” you begin playfully.

You can’t help yourself.

“Hm?” he hums.

“It’s just… I haven’t made my mind up about you. So you should consider this your trial period, buddy,” you tease.

He lets out a dry laugh, “Like a stage?”

Of course it’s all kitchen-related for him.

You laugh in response, “Yeah, like a stage.”

“Heard, chef.”

“Goodnight, Carmy.”

Carmy’s never had someone joke with him so sweetly. Between his family and, well, Richie… it’s always been callous humor and insults thrown back and forth lovingly. This feels… different: lighter.

As he watches you walk away, he looks down at the deli quart container that he holds in his hand. He’s never had anyone take care of him before – not like this – someone who wasn’t Sugar or Mikey, and certainly not his Mom. Not like this. Not without asking for anything in return. He can’t seem to identify the warm feeling that rushes through him, and wonders, for a moment, if this is what it feels like to fall in love.

Not that he’s ever experienced that either.

By Saturday, he’s back to work and feeling much better (the soup definitely helps, he decides) but it’s not for another week that he musters up the courage to ask you what you’re doing between lunch and dinner service.

“Chef!” he calls out to you as you’re cleaning up your station.

“Yeah, what’s up?” you reply.

It’s not like you’ve been all buddy-buddy and friendly over the last week, but you’ve at least stopped thinking that he hates you. Sure you’ve decided to be friends, but it’s not like you’d expected wildly different behavior.

“You uh… wanna grab a cup of coffee? On the break, I mean,” he asks, his blue eyes seeming… more brilliant than you’ve ever noticed.

“I owe you one. You know. For the soup.”

You smile, “Yeah. I’d uh-, I’d like that.”

“Yeah?” he asks.

“Yeah.”

read: chapter two

taglist: @allthefandomstogether @gaysludge @sobshoney @harrysmatcha @starbritestarlite @tpwkkmila @cool-girl-is-hot @nunya7394 @galaxyprincess51-blog @carmensberzattos

#carmen berzatto x you #carmy berzatto #carmy x oc #the bear hulu #the bear fx #jeremy allen white #carmen 'carmy' berzatto #carmy berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto #carmy berzatto headcanon #the bear headcanon #carmy berzatto imagines #carmy berzatto fluff #carmy #comfort and chaos

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[part eleven] to build a home - gojo satoru

word count: 7.4k warnings: !!manga spoilers!! swearing, jjk-verse style fighting series summary: when (y/n) (y/l/n) catches wind that the notorious sorcerer killer, toji fushiguro, has children, she makes it her personal mission to find them. the catch being she couldn't tell a soul about them- the risk of the zen'in clan learning about them was too great. keeping the secret isn't the hard part, it's lying to her friends, shoko ieiri, geto suguru, and of course gojo satoru, that she struggles with. especially when satoru has suddenly become so keen on keeping an eye on her lately.

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[part eleven] : “Brazil” ___

(y/n) woke up to six texts the next morning, which was a lot, but not as many as she was expecting after a huge fight with one of her supposed best friends. A part of her wanted to shut her phone off and keep it that way for the day, knowing that today was going to be stressful enough without the technology keeping anyone updated every second of every day. The thought was brief, knowing she couldn’t actually ignore the world. But she could daydream about it.

Three texts from Shoko, two from Tsumiki, and one from Suguru.

Deciding to open the messages from Tsumiki first, she opened the photo attachment. This proved to be the right first choice, seeing the bunny shaped pancakes that Tsumiki made for herself and Megumi that morning. She saved the photo to her phone right away.

[tsumiki]: megumi said they’re almost better than yours!

(y/n) smiled at the message, and typed back a quick reply.

[(y/n)]: looks cuter than mine :)

(y/n) got out of bed and finally got to work on her morning routine, partially to distract her from the other messages, and partially to give herself some time to figure out how to respond to them.

It was the right thing, pushing Satoru away, even though she had to be cruel to do so. To his heart, and hers. If she didn’t, he would only make it harder for her to keep her secret, and if he got involved… (y/n) could barely stand to think about it. The Zen’ins were a force to be reckoned with, Shoko’s words came to mind often. And Satoru had already had a run-in with them, even if it was just Toji.

‘Just Toji’ had done a lot of damage, she recalled the night in the kitchen those few months ago, the scar on Satoru’s throat would be burned in her memory for life. Even if it was gone now, it almost killed him. He almost killed him.

So despite her broken heart, and despite the way her entire body ached when she thought about what she’d said to him yesterday, (y/n) had to keep Satoru out of this.

If she played her cards right, she could protect everyone. Tsumiki, Megumi, and Satoru. She could keep them all safe and under her protection, she just needed a little more time to figure out just the right steps to take to do so. If they could all be patient for a little while longer…

Once she was cleaned up and dressed in her neat uniform, (y/n) finally opened the messages from Shoko.

[shoko<3]: are you okay? satoru said you guys had a fight [shoko<3]: he didn’t tell us any details, but he seemed pretty upset. [shoko<3]: it’s not like you guys to fight like that. i just want to make sure you’re ok

(y/n) huffed. She didn’t want to push Shoko away like she had to with Satoru, and she didn’t think she’d have to. Her and Suguru had always given her more space than the Six Eyes user, but given the circumstances, she supposed it made sense for Shoko to reach out like this. Satoru was her friend too.

Although it was odd that he hadn’t jumped at the opportunity to tell them the nasty details of what she’d said to him.

[(y/n)]: just a fight. no big deal.

She winces as she sends the message, knowing it wasn’t going to ease Shoko’s worry in the slightest. It was barely scraps of what really happened.

[(y/n)]: i’m sorry i worried you, but i’m ok. see you in class, i got a new assignment to tell you about :)

It was redirection at it’s finest, and surely Shoko would see right through it, but (y/n) hoped it was enough for now to downplay the situation and keep Shoko from having any interest in it.

All this time, and she’d still barely learned how to tell a convincing lie.

With that, she opened the last message.

[suguru]: let’s meet before class.

She paused longer on his single, context-less text than she had with Shoko’s. Surely he wanted to give her an earful on how she’d treated his best friend, and surely it was going to be just as cruel, if not worse. But when Suguru wanted information about something, he wasn’t as easy to distract as Shoko was. He wasn’t going to accept a cigarette as a peace offering and pretend it never happened. He was bound to be upset.

If Yaga wouldn’t have her ass for it, she’d skip classes altogether and avoid all three of them. She could use the extra training time before she left tomorrow, or maybe she could check in again with the Fushiguro kids. Anything would be better than facing any one of them.

She decides Suguru is the lesser of three evils.

[(y/n)]: alright. coffee in the kitchen? ten min?

Her fingers tremble against the side of her leg as she walks through the halls, hoping not to run into anyone as she beelines for the small kitchen off the common room. Today’s an odd day that she’s grateful there aren’t many jujutsu sorcerers in the world, and much less at this school.

She’s there five minutes after she’d texted Suguru, and to her surprise, he’s already there too.

“You and I have always been the punctual ones,” He muses when she enters. He turns away from her to pour a cup of coffee. “I’ve always appreciated that about you”

“I appreciate that about you, too” (y/n) replies, and even though it’s the truth, she sounds disingenuous. Even her honest moments started to sound like shitty lies these days.

She hadn’t braced herself for what was to come, but even if she’d tried, no amount of time would have been enough. This was the part where Suguru tells her everything she already knew- that she was a terrible person, and a terrible friend. Her fingers tap against her leg without any rhythm. Just fast.

“I wanted to ask you something,” Suguru says, casting a glance over his shoulder at her as he finishes off the warm drink with cream and sugar. “You can sit if you want, might be a few minutes”

“I don’t mind standing. I’m a bit on edge, I’m sure you understand” She tells him honestly. Suguru nods.

“I do. I have to admit, I’ve been feeling the same way lately. Just… off,”

It’s quiet between them for a minute, until he turns to face her, handing her the cup of coffee he’d finished.

“Two creams, two sugars” He tells her with a smile.

(y/n) can’t help a small smile back as she takes it, thanking him quietly. It was thoughtful of him to remember exactly how she took her coffee, but as nice as the gesture was, the bitter feeling of regret echoes in her chest.

“We can get straight to the point, Suguru,” She sighs, dropping her gaze to the steaming cup in her hands. “I’m sure you’re… upset”

He doesn’t say anything right away, and the few seconds of thoughtful silence gives her a chance to double down on her metaphorical emotional walls, so hopefully when he lays into her, she won’t cry.

“Do you think it’s a good thing that we protect non-curse users no matter what?”

Her head snaps up, completely taken aback by the question. Not due to it’s nature, she simply wasn’t expecting a deep look into morals first thing this morning. Not after what she’d done.

But maybe somehow the two things were connected. (y/n) proceeded with caution.

“I suppose, yes,” She answers. “They can’t protect themselves the way we can protect them, right?”

“Right…” Suguru seems to agree, but his eyes glaze over and he seems to go elsewhere, like maybe he didn’t believe completely in her words. “Even though not all humans are good?”

(y/n) raises a brow as she takes a tentative sip of her coffee.

“We’re humans” She says, like it’s a reminder, like it’s something one could forget about oneself. That they’re human.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” Suguru chuckles, shaking his head. “But… you know what I mean”

She didn’t.

“You think non-curse users are that much different from us?” (y/n) asks, trying to understand where he was going with this.

“You don’t?” He asks, his head tilting to the side ever so slightly.

Sure, non-curse users lived different lives than those in the Jujutsu Society. But (y/n) always thought of it as the purest form of ignorant bliss- as they didn’t even know the horrors they were shielded from. It was actually one of the many reasons she wanted to take the vow to protect them.

She didn't answer his question, but she didn’t have to. Suguru picked up on just exactly what she was thinking.

“Don’t you think it’s odd?” He asks a different question instead.

(y/n’s) face twists into a confused expression. How was this leading into her fight with Satoru? This… was about her fight with Satoru, right?

“Think what’s odd?”

“That they’re the cause of the very thing we’re going to dedicate our lives to killing,”

Suddenly, (y/n’s) body feels stiff. Her hands are clamped tightly around the handle and round edge of her mug, and her feet feel glued in place. Her eyes feel glued, too, watching his every move and expression, trying to figure out what was going on, or what the hell he was talking about.

Killing, the word rings in her head like it’s explicit, and he just said it so casually. Briefly, she recalls Megumi using it to describe exorcizing a curse, before she corrected him of the proper terminology.

However Suguru wasn’t an eight year old child who was new to this world. He was well aware of the proper vocabulary. He’d chosen to refer to it as killing with purpose.

“And they have no idea…” Suguru continues, but he trails off again. (y/n) wonders what’s going on his mind that he’s so lost in.

“Suguru,” (y/n) speaks softly, and she tries to keep that tone as she continues. “I don’t think I’m following you” A short laugh escapes her, but it’s quiet, and nervous.

“Ah, I’m not making sense,” He chuckles, raising a hand to the back of his neck. “I guess what I really mean to ask is… do you think it’s always worth it?”

Well, that question did nothing to clear up the confusion.

(y/n’s) silence was enough of a tell to Suguru that she didn’t understand where he was coming from, and she wasn’t going to. This deflates him, but she’d never know it, as his little smile and curious eyes didn’t falter for a second.

“Well,” (y/n) sighs, trying to think of the right thing to say.

She wasn’t sure where he was coming from, but he seemed… lost. Like he’d been questioning himself and his path as a jujutsu sorcerer a little too harshly. She could understand that, at least.

“I know sometimes making the world a better place is… slow work… but for me, it’s my passion,” She shrugs her shoulders lightly. “And when I start to doubt myself, I just remember who I’m doing it for”

Suguru nods, but something tells (y/n) that it wasn’t the answer he was looking for.

“I see,” He says, and lets out a soft sigh. “And do you keep that mindset when we’ve just protected a trafficking ring from curses?”

(y/n) blinks, and fights a shiver from swimming down her spine. Where was this coming from? Why was he being like this?

“Suguru…”

“You remember that day we were sent to retrieve Riko Amanai?” He asks her.

“Yes…” She answers, the cruel memories of that failed mission flooding her mind as soon as she heard the girl’s name.

This conversation made her uneasy enough, but now her stomach was churning and her knuckles were turning white around her mug of forgotten coffee. She wanted an out, but every word Suguru spoke seemed to keep her frozen in place.

“All of our efforts that day, to protect her, and to make sure no one else got hurt-”

“Why are you bringing this up, Suguru?” (y/n) cut him off. She didn’t need him to relive everything that happened that day- she did that on her own almost every day. “You’re really going to rewrite your moral code over one bad mission?”

For the first time during this talk, his face sours. (y/n) knows she should apologize for snapping at him, but she doesn’t. Instead, she gives him a piece of her mind.

“You work me up into thinking you’re upset about what happened with Satoru, and then waste my time by telling me you want to- what, rethink the entirety of your life’s choices?” She scoffs at him, and sets her mostly-full mug of coffee down on the counter, a little more forcefully than she needed to.

Suguru’s face is blank now, and he’s harder to read, but she’s done with this guessing game where she keeps losing.

“If you want out Sugu, I won’t stop you,” She tells him, staring him dead in the eyes without the fear or hesitation like she had before. He notices this. “I certainly didn’t stop Nanami. Your life is your own to control, so stop acting like you were forced into doing something you didn’t want to,”

His eyes narrow at her choice of words, but she ignores it.

“That said, if you left now, it would only prove to be a waste of your talents. You’re one of the strongest men in the whole world, no force on earth could take you on. So if you leave, you’re only proving that the world was wrong”

That peaked his interest, and now he was back at his word games.

“That so?” He hums, amused by the thought.

“You’d be proving the world was wrong about you. And that despite your abilities, you’re not strong enough to handle them,” (y/n’s) voice softens, remembering this was her friend, and despite everything, he was her friend. “I care about you Suguru, so… if you’re done with this…”

Something in her expression changes, and Sguru can see that her irritation had worn off, melted into something softer. She looks defeated, almost, but forces a small smile anyways.

She’d changed. Just like him. Sometime between the Star Plasma Vessel incident and right now, something had morphed her, aged her, made her look tired. He could see it in her eyes, and the waver in her half-baked smile. It was all there before him, begging him to ask her what she’d been up to these last few months. He understood Satoru’s curiosity now, when he saw her up close. (y/n) was a different person now. And this certainly wasn’t because of some romantic affair.

“I won’t stop you” She sighs, finishing her thought.

Curious now, Suguru tilts his head at her.

“I told you once I wasn’t going to interrogate you about what you’ve been up to in town…” He starts, and instantly (y/n’s) stomach is churning again. “But now I see that whatever it is, it’s changed you, hasn’t it?”

The way he smirks has her blood boiling. The protective nature that Megumi and Tsumiki had brought out of her had her fingers curling against her palms in tight fists, which didn’t go unnoticed by Suguru. He eyes her defensive stance with intrigue, before meeting her eyes again.

“There’s not a force on earth that could drill it out of you, is there?” He asks, and her lack of response is answer enough. He clicks his tongue. “Interesting”

“You’re right Suguru,” (y/n) admits in a mutter. The soft, worried tone she’d held for him earlier long gone, now that a part of her felt as though her kids were threatened. “I have changed”

Her eyes are piercing now, only furthering Suguru’s amusement.

Whatever this stupid secret is, it must be a good one, he thinks to himself, suddenly wishing that Satoru had the guts to force the damn information out of her. Surely he was the only one of them who could, but of course his feelings had gotten in the way and the weak part of his heart only resulted in him getting exiled from the girl’s life. Suguru didn’t care about exile, and if he was honest, he didn’t care about this secret either. His interest lied in the hold it had on her.

Looking at her now, with her hands balled into fists, her posture rigid, and her eyes piercing into his with a venom he’d never seen before, much less directed at him, he knew it must be worth something to her. Something big.

“As have I,” He finally tells her, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

(y/n) looks him up and down, noticing even his aura felt different.

Bad different.

“This secret of yours…” He trails off, narrowing his eyes slightly. “Is it worth your life?”

Her defensive stance falters, for a brief second, but Suguru doesn’t give her the chance to actually respond to his question. He didn’t need her response. She’d made it perfectly clear the lengths she’d go to keep her covert life just that- and while he was a little curious just how much further she could be pushed before she snaps, he leaves.

Suguru doesn’t say a word as he brushes past her, he doesn’t even look at her. Just walks away with a smug smile, and an aura around him that was strangely… eerie.

(y/n) stayed planted in her spot in the kitchen for a few minutes longer, her mind swarming with paranoia.

Was this all because he was upset about what happened with Satoru?

Were the mind games meant to throw her off, and throw herself down a rabbit hole?

Or had he actually figured her out? Was he aware of Megumi and Tsumiki? But that couldn’t make sense… he would have had to follow her, and she would have noticed his presence if he had, right?

No, none of that could be it, he was barely making any sense, he must have been prodding at something else completely.

With a sigh, (y/n) shoved her hand through her hair, as if it would provide any relief to her overworked and throbbing brain. The mental torture Suguru had managed to put her through in the last ten minutes was worse than any curse she’d ever taken on- even that one Special Grade with the tentacle arms who nearly ripped her leg clean off.

He’d never spoken to her like that before. He’d never acted like that before. It was completely out of character and it had her completely overthinking about everything that had happened in the last few months.

But she didn’t have time to overthink. She had to get to class and act like everything was normal, tell Shoko about the assignment she was leaving for- which was tomorrow- and keep up the act that no one needed to be suspicious of her because there was nothing to be suspicious about.

When she finally left the kitchen and hastened her pace to get to class on time, (y/n’s) heart was pounding in her ears so hard, she was sure she was going to get a headache.

She wasn’t sure how much longer she could keep all of this up.

But if it could only be a little longer… ___

Suguru hadn’t gone to class. Yaga had briefly mentioned something about a last minute assignment that the elders had sent him on, and (y/n) wondered if that had to do with his sudden urgency to talk with her. She wasn’t sure how long he’d be gone, but with her weekend being taken over by her own assignment in Brazil, they likely wouldn’t have crossed paths otherwise.

Propping her head in her hand as she paid half of her attention to Yaga’s lesson, (y/n) wished he’d just gone on the mission and skipped their conversation altogether.

She’d stopped her notetaking a few minutes ago, her mind wandering off to a million other things that seemed more worth her time.

For starters, how quickly she needed to get through her assignment tomorrow so that she could rush back to Tokyo. Even with the cursed tool that she’d given Megumi, she didn’t want to be out of the country for longer than she needed to. A lot could happen over one weekend. One weekend is all it took for her to get into this mess to begin with.

She scribbles something in her notebook when Yaga’s eyes land on her, feigning interest in his lesson. What was he talking about? Special grades? A history lesson on early jujustu society?

Peeking over to Shoko on her right, she noticed that she’d managed to take her notes diligently, as usual. Surely she’d let (y/n) borrow them to brush up on later.

On her left, Satoru did not seem to have the same work ethic as Shoko, but that wasn’t anything out of the ordinary. She knew that he did his work when he needed to, and he knew the material like the back of his hand, but (y/n) wasn’t sure she’d ever seen him take notes. He tended to just steal hers whenever he pleased.

Although he probably wouldn’t be asking for them anytime soon.

He didn’t look any different than usual, his expression bored even hidden behind his sunglasses. She wasn’t sure how she expected him to look, wasn’t sure if he’d show up to class disheveled, tired, maybe even send her a mean look. But he looked normal. And besides not speaking or looking at her, he was acting normal too.

Somehow that felt worse.

(y/n) had her things collected and was out of her seat as soon as class was done for the day. She was out the door even before Yaga. Rushing out wasn’t exactly necessary, seeing as she and Shoko were going to meet up for lunch, but the quicker she could be out of a space shared with Satoru, the better.

Besides, a few extra minutes to collect her thoughts was much needed. Although she didn’t have much time, as Shoko was jogging up to the table just a minute after (y/n) had sat down.

“Alright, you better start explaining yourself,” The short haired brunette said through quiet pants. “Because Satoru won’t say shit- and you just booked it out of there! What the hell?”

(y/n) hoped that her expression remained neutral, even though she was internally cringing.

“It’s complicated, can we just not talk about it?” She sighed.

“No!” Shoko nearly screeched as she plopped onto the bench across from her. “No we can’t just not talk about it! That’s crazy!”

(y/n) frowned, but Shoko didn’t seem to mind the uncomfortable tension settling between them, because she continued her rant.

“We don’t just fight and not talk to each other, (y/n). We’re best friends. All of us”

“No, you’re my best friend and you come with a matching set that follows you around” (y/n) mumbled. And now they follow me around too, she thinks bitterly.

“That’s not fair or true,” Shoko rolls her eyes. “You love them both, too,” She says like it’s a reminder. “And I know Satoru gets under your skin… but… that’s just what he does, and I know this can’t be about that because you’ve let him get under your skin for three years now. So fess up already. What. Happened?”

(y/n) stared at her, pleading with her eyes that she could just drop it. She didn’t have a good enough explanation, and she didn’t want to lie to Shoko anymore than she already has.

She really should have thought this through when she cut things off with Satoru.

“Is it… romantic tension?” Shoko asked slowly.

“What!? No!” (y/n’s) voice betrayed her as it raised and cracked, making her sound completely unbelievable.

“Oh really?” Shoko raised a brow. “Because you know that I know that he’s been sleeping with you since Haibara passed”

There’s a pang in her chest upon hearing his name. A harsh reminder that no matter how much time would pass, his name, his memory, would forever be surrounded by a haunting cloud of pain. That was grief, she supposed. Nonetheless, (y/n) mustered up the will to roll her eyes at Shoko’s insinuation.

“Sleeping sleeping,” She mutters. “That’s it. Nothing funny”

“Yeah right,” Shoko scoffed. “You’ve had funny business between you since day one. If you didn’t go through some weird non-couple couple fight, why the hell was Satoru in a pissy mood saying you were done with him?”

Now she was toggling the line between mildly annoyed and genuinely pissed off. The ongoing assumption that Shoko had once made as a joke was no romance between her and Satoru. And now, there was nothing left between them at all. It was becoming too much. Her mistakes were getting on top of her like an overdose, filling her to the brim with melancholy, and anger.

“Because we’re not friends anymore, I guess!” (y/n) exclaimed, throwing her hands up. “I’m sorry it’s not that juicy, okay? He was just getting too irritating and nosey, and I needed some freaking space, is that so awful?”

“No, but it’s a fucking lie,” Shoko shook her head. Her words weren’t as malicious as they sounded, but she knew she needed to start calling out bullshit when she smelled it. And (y/n’s) bullshit was starting to pile up so high that Shoko could barely make out what was real anymore.

(y/n) huffed, crossing her arms over her chest.

“I don’t want to fight before I go away on an assignment,” She sighed, dropping her defensive stance and leaning over the table towards her friend. “Please, can we not fight about this?”

Shoko frowned, mirroring (y/n’s) position, and reaching for her hands. She squeezed them gently, and she doesn’t let them go.

“I’m worried about you, (y/n/n),” She admits, quietly, like she was afraid to be vulnerable with her. “You have to admit you’ve been acting strange, you’ve been missing from campus, like, all the time, you barely answer your phone or even give us any answers when you’re back. I’m not trying to be nosey, really, but…” She trails off for a minute, chewing on her bottom lip. “This isn’t like you. And Satoru… I’ve never seen him hurt like that. You guys treat each other better than that”

(y/n’s) throat began to sting with the familiar burn of tears, and she prays she thinks of something fast before she has to shut Shoko out the same way she did to Satoru.

“Shoko,” She mumbles, sniffling. “I can’t explain it, okay?”

Shoko’s shoulders slump, defeated. But she keeps a hold of (y/n’s) hands.

“I’m sorry. I really am. I know it’s not fair but… but you have to trust me, please”

“Are you in trouble?” Shoko asks in a whisper, even though there was no one around them to eavesdrop. “Does this have to do with the Zen’ins?” She adds in an even quieter voice.

The way (y/n) stiffens and her eyes widen tell Shoko she’d guessed correctly. Her own eyes blew wide with shock, the fear that had been nagging at the back of her mind finally proving to be true.

“(y/n)-”

“It’s nothing, Shoko, seriously, I’m begging you to leave it and not worry about it-”

“Not worry about it?” She hissed back at her. “How could I not worry about it? So what is it then, you’re seeing someone? Is that it?”

(y/n) doesn’t say anything, her brain is processing all of this too slowly to figure out what the smartest lie was to go with. If she agreed that she was dating a Zen’in, surely Shoko would go back to Satoru and Suguru with that information- and their reactions would be less than pleasant but…

What was her other option? Tell her that she was actually harboring a member of the Zen’in Clan and his sister? The children of the famed Sorcerer Killer? The very man that almost killed Satoru? Was she supposed to confess that it was practically the opposite of what she’d been thinking?

That her backup plan if all of this went south was executing the head of the clan and anyone else who tried to harm the Fushiguro children?

(y/n) pulled her hands out of Shoko’s, rubbing them down her face and taking a deep breath. Think. There must be a better option. You’ve made it this far, so think!

“Shoko… you have to promise not to tell-”

“Oh my fucking spirits,” Shoko mimicked (y/n’s) position, covering her face in her hands and shaking her head. Don’t tell me that it’s fucking true”

(y/n) doesn’t say anything, she didn’t know what to say, but it seemed she was out of time to come up with a better lie than a secret affair with a Zen’in.

Which left a pretty nasty taste in her mouth.

Shoko gasped, one of her hands falling over her open mouth, completely floored by this information.

Sure, when (y/n) first started sneaking off, she thought maybe she was hooking up with someone, flirting with a cute guy at a cafe or a bookstore, and she would have been totally fine with a secret like that. It would have been cute, and fun.

“I want to throw up” Shoko grumbles.

“Okay, that’s a little-”

“If you say it’s overdramatic, I don’t want to hear it. I mean- I mean… seriously? Who is it anyways? Wait- no, don’t tell me, I don’t even want to know because then Satoru is gonna ask and he’s… oh my god, that’s what happened isn’t it?”

She hadn’t even blinked yet. The pit in (y/n’s) stomach continued to grow, and Shoko’s shock only worsened.

In a small movement, (y/n) nodded her head.

Shoko’s silent for a minute, before she shuffles into her pocket for her cigarettes and a lighter. She remained silent and staring off at nothing as she sparked up and took an exaggeratedly long drag. (y/n) eyed the cigarette longingly, and Shoko passed it over after flicking the ash.

“He was pissed, huh?” She asks.

(y/n) nods again.

“Yeah… yeah he was pissed,” She says, avoiding the parts that were actually lies. After taking her puff, she continues. “And I… I didn’t handle it well. I think I… I know I really hurt him, Shoko”

“You did,” Shoko sighs, recalling the way a hollow eyed Satoru had joined her for lunch yesterday. “I just… why didn’t you tell us sooner? Maybe we.. maybe we could have talked more..?” She’s making weak suggestions, knowing there was nothing to be done of it now.

(y/n) shrugs limply, taking another drag before passing the cigarette back.

“You hate me?” She asks quietly.

Shoko gives a wobbly smile, shaking her head.

“I could never hate you, (y/n/n)” She sighs heavily.

(y/n) mirrors her weak smile.

“Thanks, Shoko,”

The short haired girl nodded back at her.

“I’m really sorry” She adds as an afterthought, but it’s genuine.

She knows she’ll continue to feel sorry for a long time. Maybe even forever. The guilt on her shoulders had become so heavy she slouched in her seat. It spread through her whole body, making her sick to her stomach, her knees weak, and she’d even noticed her hands trembling.

Shoko didn’t deserve this. She thought she was getting closure, she thought she was finally understanding what (y/n) had been up to. Even if she was unsettled by the so-called confession, it was something. And it was still just a lie.

“I know” Shoko replies softly, stumping out the dead cigarette.

When she gets up and leaves, (y/n) watches her pull out and light up another one on her walk back to her dorm.

(y/n) hung her head in her hands in her lonesome, fighting the urge to break down into tears. She wished that she could tell them all to hold on for just a little while longer.

Just a little longer, she scoffs to herself, her throat burning. How much longer was just a little longer going to be?

And on top of it all- now she had another lie to maintain. It was pitiful, but at least Shoko was so disgusted in her that she didn’t ask anymore questions. ___

(y/n) really should have cleared her mind better before going to Brazil. Taking on major assignments while in a negative headspace wasn’t safe, and it was one of the first things you’re taught when you enroll in Jujutsu High.

(y/n’s) headspace had become a toxic wasteland.

All of her time before she actually arrived in Manaus was spent in her head, diving deeper and deeper into the pits of despair. She knew she wasn’t doing herself any favors, but once it had started, she couldn’t distract herself from it.

Normally she would turn to her friends to distract her from a bad bout of anxiety. A smoke break and a walk with Shoko, a movie night with Suguru, a trip to the candy shop with Satoru, any of those things right now could have easily relaxed her nerves and brought her out of her tormented mind. This realization only worsened her mood.

She overthought every terrible lie she’d told her friends while on the ride to the airport. While waiting at the gate, she worried about Megumi and Tsumiki being alone while she is not reachable by phone when on the plane. And the flight was the worst of all. Even with connecting flights it took up her entire day. That gave her twenty-four hours to assume the worst was happening. No in-flight movie, no music, no book could distract her mind and give her even a minute of peace.

But when was the last time she felt any peace, anyways.

When she finally did land in Brazil and got settled in the hotel she’d been set up at- which was probably the nicest hotel she’d ever been sent to on an overseas mission, compliments of Yaga taking pity on her, surely- she couldn’t settle in.

She’d been told to get rest after her day of travel, brush up on the notes of the Grade Two she’d be on the hunt for, but to leave that hunt until the next day. Yaga had told her clearly the morning she left that her rest was a requirement, and not to jump into the assignment on little to no sleep after an extremely long day.

Of course, as soon as she’d dropped her bag onto the queen sized bed, she realized there was no way she could get a wink of sleep with her sour mood. She’d certainly lie awake in bed all night, letting it worsen until her entire body ached.

Her eyes landed on the harness that held her swords. They sat in their sheaths, perfectly cleaned and sharpened from the day before, waiting to slay something. She’d barely touched them since the Star Plasma Vessel incident, and with all the despair inside her, she knew that a quick rage on a Grade Two would be cathartic.

Cracking a smile, she grabbed the harness and snapped it on before taking off out of the hotel room, eager for the hunt and the release of pent up distress.

Maybe I’ll have to thank Yaga after all, she thought to herself as she took to the streets of Manaus. Maybe this assignment would be exactly what I need. ___

By the time (y/n) returns to her hotel, she’d decided against thanking her teacher. It wouldn’t be a priority when she gets home.

She’d exorcized the Grade Two Curse, and while it hadn’t been an impossible task, it had been greatly difficult, and with her standing as a Grade One Sorcerer, it was humiliating to realize how far she’d fallen behind in her training. But after putting up a good fight, it finally showed it’s weakness and (y/n) dove for it instantly, slicing it’s head clean off with large swings of both of her blades.

She’s still straining to catch her breath even now as she washes the blood from her arms, before stripping off her ruined uniform. She’d have to change before she headed out again.

Now that the assignment was over, she couldn’t stand to delay her return to Tokyo even one minute longer. She was set on washing up, packing what little things she had, and heading straight back to the airport.

Her booked flight wasn’t for two more days, as Yaga had given her extra time to travel and explore. But she was already far ahead of schedule, and she found no excitement in spending time in another country when there were people back home waiting for her.

If I’m able to get on a flight tonight, I’ll make it home by this time tomorrow, she thought to herself, scrolling through the options on her phone, ignoring the hefty prices under each one. A last minute flight wasn’t ideal, but she’d trade in the ticket she had and save what she could.

Now that her distraction of an assignment was done, her sickeningly anxious thoughts were starting to slip into her mind again.

She made great haste in getting herself to the airport, contacting the manager on duty for her assignment to let them know she was wrapped up, and would be on the first flight to Tokyo. ___

By the time (y/n) gets back to Tokyo, it had been three days.

But while she hadn’t slept longer than a few minutes here and there on the excruciatingly long flights, when she landed back home it was a straight shot for her to go to the Fushiguro house. She couldn’t possibly make a pitstop to the school to drop her things off- or even take a shower.

It was late into the evening, around the time she would normally put the kids to bed, but she had a feeling they’d be awake, seeing as it wasn’t a day she’d normally visit them. And to her delight, as she approached the house, she could see the flickering of a tv through the living room window.

When she knocks on the door, she sees two heads spin around over the back of the sofa through the window, at first cautious, but then excited as both kids leapt off their seats to greet her.

Tsumiki throws her arms around (y/n) as soon as the door opens, and the older girl drops to her knees to hug her properly. Maybe she squeezes a little tighter than she normally would.

Megumi bashfully hangs behind his sister, but the wide smile on his face tells (y/n) he was just as happy about her return as she was. She ruffles up his hair just because she can, and tells them both how happy she is to be back.

“Was it awesome?” Tsumiki asks.

“Did you exorcize the curse?” Megumi talks over her.

“Head up to bed and I’ll tell you all about it” (y/n) orders, and neither of them seem bothered as they turn off the tv and scramble up the stairs to get ready for bed.

(y/n) lets herself take a moment to sigh and revel in the utter relief to see them both okay. She’d been convincing herself they must have been fine, since Megumi never used his emergency Cursed Tool, and none of the texts she received from Tsumiki were out of the ordinary. But nothing would satisfy her nerves until she could see them in person, and assess for herself that they hadn’t been in any harm.

When she ascends the stairs, they’re already waiting for her, with their teeth brushed and their pajamas on. She grins ear to ear.

“If only you were this good for me all the time,” She teases. “Maybe I should take assignments more often, huh?”

“We’re always good” Megumi rolls his eyes.

He’s still smiling.

“I suppose that’s true,” (y/n) muses. “And guess what good kids get?”

“Candy?” Tsumiki asks hopefully.

(y/n) laughs as she reaches into her pocket, pulling out the two small items she’d managed to snag from a shop at the airport.

“Better!” She exclaims, handing a gift to each one of them. “Gifts!”

Tsumiki squeals as she eyes the pretty bow she’d received. A large, puffy pink accessory, complete with lace edges and shiny pearls at it’s center.

And when Megumi is handed his gift, a small keychain of a fluffy black dog with starry, anime-like eyes, his mouth makes an ‘o’ and his eyes light up with recognition.

“Just like my Divine Dog” He says as his mouth stretches back into a smile.

“That was the idea,” (y/n) chuckles. “Sorry they’re small, I didn’t have a lot of shopping time”

“I love it!” Tsumiki grins, holding her accessory to her chest with adoration.

“Thank you” Megumi’s voice is softer as he clutches his own gift carefully.

“You’re very welcome,” (y/n) replies. “Now you guys head off to bed, because I want to get home to go to bed. I’ll tell you all about my trip when I come by tomorrow afternoon” She lets out a tired sigh, and the Fushiguro kids follow the instruction.

She bids Tsumiki goodnight first, shutting her door after the girl crawled into her sheets. When she turns to Megumi’s room, he’s still wide awake, sitting upright on the side of his bed. He’s still holding his keychain in his lap, admiring it with bright eyes.

“You ready for bed?” (y/n) asks him, leaning against his door frame.

He looks up at her, blinking, before stating the obvious.

“You look tired”

(y/n) chuckles, almost bitterly. Tired was an understatement.

“A flight from here to Brazil takes an entire day, you know” She tells him, walking into his room.

Megumi crawls into bed and under the covers, giving her the seat on the edge of his bed. She plops into it with a huff, the simple action of sitting providing a ridiculous amount of relief to her overworked body.

“A whole day?” Megumi repeats in awe.

“Sure does,” (y/n) sighs. “And on top of that, swords are pretty heavy, and I’m out there alone trying to exorcize this huge curse!”

His eyes light up with excitement, wanting to hear more about her mission. But (y/n) tucks him in as she always does before she leaves him for the night, and he knows she’s not going to tell him more tonight.

“Don’t worry, I’ll tell you everything you want to know about it tomorrow” She says with a smile, knowing he was on the edge of his seat.

“Fine,” Megumi huffs, and then quietly adds, “Can we get pizza?”

(y/n) laughs, but nods her head in agreement.

“Pizza sounds perfect,” She says, earning a smile from the boy. She hesitates before leaving just yet, wanting to relish a little more in seeing him perfectly unharmed.

He had no idea how much she worried about him when she was away. The feeling must be reaching what a mother feels for her own children, an overwhelming need to protect them, no matter what it costs.

Suguru’s menacing words rang in her mind.

This secret of yours, is it worth your life?

After telling Megumi goodnight and wishing him sweet dreams, she’d finally come up with an answer for him.

Yes.

And if I had the chance to do it again, I would.

Tiptoeing down the stairs, (y/n) did a quick lap of the house, making sure there were no chores in desperate need of her attention before she left for the night. Even though her bones begged her to rest, she wanted to make sure everything was in order after a few days of being absent. To her pleasure, the house seemed perfectly clean and tidy.

She’d have to treat Tsumiki to more than just a bow, she mused to herself, heading for the pile of mail on the kitchen table. All she’d do tonight was sort through the junk and the bills, which she’d worry about paying tomorrow.

After tossing the unnecessary mail in the trash and sliding the water bill into the drawer for important papers, that left only one envelope. It was blank on the front, which puzzled her, wondering how it had gotten mixed into the rest of the lot. Or how it had even been mailed in the first place Turning it over curiously, her heart dropped at the only marking on the whole envelope.

A wax seal she recognized instantly.

Her blood ran cold, and her fingers went rigid in their hold on the letter.

The unmistakable seal of the Zen’in Clan.

___

a/n: long chapter of sadness hahahahaha i don’t remember how to sleep.

taglist: @whats-humanity-lol @malinq-ashida @mor-pheus@bekahtaylorgriggs@pookiea@megumimind@thealchemical@pearlstiare@niallerhere@96jnie @purpleguk @peqch-pie@yukinemaroop@makis-girl @sadtoru @kamikokii @nerdiel-has-no-braincells @googlesheetshoe @vzleria @hilzup @cole-silas @iam-mia9 @stxrrielle @ezrahour

xoxo ~ jordie

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cameronspecial · 5 months

Text

A New Kind Of Normal (Part 7)

Pairing: Dad!Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: Mentions of Sexual Content

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 2.2K

Summary: Rafe finally gets another chance and he is going to do everything to hold on to them.

Masterlist

His sobriety is still continuing strong near the end of June and he has been sending Y/N updates every week. She would respond to each update but would leave general questions about how she was doing unanswered. He loves that even with her anger towards him, she still takes the time out of her day to help support his relapse recovery. It shows him she was encouraging his recovery not only for Stella but for him. By some miracle, at the beginning of July, Rafe convinced Y/N to meet him without Stella. He knew he shouldn’t push it on that point. He offered to make her dinner at his house and it hurt him that she wanted to meet him at a coffee shop because it is a public place.

The watch on his wrist keeps getting readjusted from too tight to too loose as he waits for her to make her appearance at the cafe. He bought her a lemon buttercup and a lemonade refresher. His focus is on her food, so he doesn’t notice her sliding into the booth across from him. He looks up at her with the desire to fix everything between them. “Hi,” he breathes out, being welcomed by her vanilla perfume. She gives him a tight-lipped smile, “Hey. What did you want to talk about?” Her eyes find the stuff he bought for her and bring it towards her with a quiet thanks. He smiles when she takes a bite of it, not knowing exactly where to start, so he cuts to the chase. His hand searches for the small disc in his pocket and he brings it back out with something in it. He places it on the table, sliding it toward her. She picks it up and examines the engraved poker-like chip in her hand. Her face shows her confusion, “What is this?”

“It’s my one-month sobriety chip. Well, from before I relapsed.”

“Okay, and what am I doing with it?”

“I want you to keep it to prove how serious I am about getting sober again. I want to earn it back from you. When I’m one month sober from this day on, you can give it back to me.”

“Rafe, are you sure you want me to keep this? You may have relapsed, but you worked really hard for the chip. Plus, from what you’ve been telling me, you’ve already been sober for almost two weeks. That should count toward something.”

“I know I have been, but I think it will mean more to me if I count my month's sobriety from the moment you take the chip.”

She nods her head, piecing together what he means. “Okay, I’ll take it. But you can’t see Stella until you are two months sober, you can talk to her on the phone. And then you can’t be alone with her until you are six months sober,” she dictates. Her hand wraps around the chip and puts it in her pocket. She makes a mental note to put it in her special box on her bedside table. Gratefulness flashes on his face, “Thank you so much. You don’t know how much this means to me that you are giving me another chance. You won’t regret it. Stella and yo- Stella is your daughter and she means everything to me.”

——

Every single day for two weeks Rafe has been calling Stella at six. It didn’t matter if he was in a meeting or eating dinner with his family, he called without a fail. Stella was more than happy every time they called. She would give him a detailed account of her day and then demand he do the same. It was so cute every time she would give him words of encouragement when he told her he had a hard day. However, with each call, she craves to see him in person and always begs for him to come over. He wants to say yes, but he knows what Y/N will say and he knows that he is still working toward gaining her trust.

“Daddy, I want to see you,” she begs, her voice verging a whine. Rafe’s heart wretches at her words, “I know, little witch. But Daddy is still a little sick. I don’t want to get you sick. How about you tell me about Sabrina? Are you still married?” The girl shakes her head, not understanding that her father can’t see her. Y/N whispers to her daughter she needs to say it out loud for Rafe to hear. “No, Sabrina and I got a divorce. I don’t want to be married anymore. It’s hard work, but everyone wants to be mine,” she informs her dad. He gives a little chuckle, “Being married is hard. And of course, everyone wants you, you are a Cameron. Everyone wants a piece of us.” “My last name isn’t Cameron?” she puzzles with a tilt of the head. “No, but you are my daughter and I am a Cameron. So you are one too,” he explains. She looks at he mother for confirmation, beaming at Y/N’s nod, “I’m a Cameron and a Y/L/N. That’s cool.”

Rafe notices the time and hates to have to end the call, but he has to head to his therapy appointment. “I’m sorry, Stella. Daddy has to go,” he apologizes, cringing at the tiny protest she lets out. “No, Daddy. You can’t. I didn’t tell you about my drawing and lunchtime yet. Why can’t you come to play with me?” she cries. It is obvious to her parents that the weeks away from her father are catching up on her. He shakes his head, “I know, little witch. I’m sorry. Forever and always?” “Forever and always, but don’t go Daddy,” she implores, gripping the phone like it’s her lifeline.

Hanging up on his daughter’s sadness is hard for Rafe, yet he needs to so he can get to his appointment on time. Even though she knows the call ended, Stella keeps holding it to her ear in hopes that her dad will come back. Her tears have not stopped. Y/N’s gut twists at her daughter’s despair and brings Stella into her lap. She pets the little girl’s muddy blonde hair, giving kisses to the temple as comfort. Y/N knows she said Rafe had to wait two months to see Stella in person, but she knows what she needs to do for their daughter.

——

He isn’t expecting the call from Y/N after his therapy. Normally, he is the one to call her when he needs her support. She never really calls him unless Stella asks, so he isn’t sure why she called. Worry runs through him as he thinks of everything that could be wrong with Stella. She has a terminal illness. She was kidnapped. Or worse of all, she died. The calm in Y/N’s voice as Rafe answers the phone calms his mind. “Hey, can we talk?” she asks, playing with the paper on her bed. Rafe hums, “Yeah, I have all the time in the world.”

“I’ve been thinking and I think you should come over for dinner tomorrow.”

“Are you sure? It hasn’t been two months yet. I haven’t gained your trust yet.”

“Have you been sober since you promised me you would be? Have you been going to all of your meetings and appointments?”

“Yes and yes.”

“Then I trust that you are doing everything in your power to get sober. Right now, Stella needs her Daddy. So come over tomorrow for dinner.”

His smile can rival the Jokers, “I’ll be there, but let me make dinner. I don’t want to put you on the spot with cooking. I know how much it stresses you out when it comes to figuring out what to eat for dinner.”

——

Y/N has kept Rafe’s visit for dinner from Stella and she can’t wait to see her little girl’s reaction. At the knock, Y/N suggests the child answer the door, which confuses Stella because Y/N hates it when she answers the door. Stella’s tiny body struggles to open the door, but eventually gets it. The gasps she lets out could break the sound barrier and she throws herself into her father’s arms. Rafe tips back a little bit, having a hard time adjusting his daughter in his arms and the bag of groceries in his hand. “You are no longer sick, Daddy?” she questions, taking his cheeks in her hands. His head moves up and down, “Daddy is still sick, little witch. But I’m not so sick that you will get hurt. I thought we could make cream of mushroom soup for dinner. Do you like that idea?” Stella cheers in excitement and takes her father to the kitchen.

Rafe orders Y/N to sit on the island stool and rest while he and Stella get dinner ready. “You are doing such a good job cutting the mushrooms,” Rafe presses, watching his daughter cut the mushrooms into uneven slices with a plastic knife. He is so patient and guiding when he cooks with Stella, it makes Y/N wonder what it would be like to have Rafe be there for Stella’s first. Would he be the type of dad to hold her by her arms to help her take her first steps or would he kneel opposite her, beckoning her to come closer? Would he spend every single second trying to get her to say Dada as her first word? She knows he would go all out with the first birthday. She would probably have to talk him down from trying to rent out Buckingham Palace for the party.

As they mix the soup on the stove, a little bit of the hot liquid splashes on Stella and she weeps at the contact. Rafe is quick to wrap around the girl, carrying her toward the sink to run room-temperature water on it. “It’s okay, little witch. Daddy is here. He will make it better. We are going to get some water to make it feel better than put a bandaid on it,” he enlightens to her, getting a bandaid out from the cabinet. He doesn’t bother to ask which bandaid Stella wants because he knows she will want the black cat one. He puts on the bandaid, giving it a kiss. Stella’s tears quieten, “Thank you, Daddy. Forever and always.” Excitement quickly replaces the hurt she was displaying, “Look, Daddy, look! I’m wearing the necklace you gave me.” She proudly holds out the diamond necklace so it catches the light. Rafe grins, taking the pendant in his hand. “I see. It still looks amazing on you. And what did you think about when you looked at it?” “I thought about how much you love me, which is this big,” she holds her hands wide apart. “And that when you look up at the stars, you think of me. Did you think about me, Daddy, when you saw the stars?” His lips touch the crown of her head, “Every night, little witch. Every night.”

Y/N couldn’t help but be entranced by the scene in front of her. He is so caring and attentive to the girl. He may not have been her father for very long, but he knows her like the back of his hand. Y/N’s mouth starts to feel a little parched; her lips slapping against each other. Rafe notices her thirst and he heads to the bag he brought to pull out the passion fruit Jarritos he bought for her. He uses the edge of the counter to pop the top off and it causes wetness to pool in between her thighs. He brings it over to her, letting her grab it from his hand. She is surprised he knows Jarritos is one of her favourite drinks. She must have mentioned it once when she was thinking over what drinks to stock at the diner while he was over. She thanks him with warm cheeks, hiding her eyes from him.

Over the weeks of listening to Rafe and Stella talk, Y/N couldn’t help but slowly fall for him. She didn’t miss the subtle ways he would ask about her to Stella. He would always find a way to involve Y/N in at least one question during each call. When he would call her for support, he would always apologize for interrupting whatever activity she normally had scheduled at the time and she was shocked he remembered her schedule.

Dinner is quickly finished and the table is set. The conversation flows smoothly. Y/N finds herself giggling at Rafe’s stupid dad jokes. She doesn’t know why; she doesn’t even think they are funny. She loves how he can see Stella’s enjoyment and keeps going with the jokes. For most dinners, Y/N’s focus is on whether Stella is eating or not; however, today, she finds her eyes glancing between Rafe and her bowl of soup. This doesn’t go unnoticed by Stella, who is absolutely in love with the view. She can see her mother slowly falling for her father and thinks about how she can get her plan back on track.

Taglist: @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @thepatriarchykeychain @drewsmusee @starkowswife @maybankslover @forstarkey @loving-and-dreaming @drewstarkeyswifehoe @kisstaya @magicalyoura @mp-littlebit @loverfu55ii @dark1paradise @sublimepenguinpeach-blog @alyisdead @emeloyy @js-a-writer @kisstaya @optimisticsandwichgladiator @justdamnpeachy

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fastcardotmp3 · 1 year

Text

I gotta say I am such a sucker for Eddie and Steve genuinely not falling in love, not even seeing each other in more than a wholly friendly way, until they're well into their thirties.

No high school crushes, no trauma born romance, just two guys who sincerely did not like each other as teenagers and then grew to respect each other in the face of unimaginable strife, who figured out how to be friends somewhere in the aftermath, who maybe only managed to hold onto each other through cross-country moves and major life changes and stumbles back home and repeat, repeat repeat, simply because there was no greater attachment than having someone who gets it and gets them in an uncomplicated way.

Just friends, although maybe a different sort than Robin is to Steve or the Hellfire boys are to Eddie, and that's a big deal in and of itself for two guys who have more than their fair share of abandonment issues.

Because so long as their relationship is this, friends on the phone, friends who visit each other over the holidays, friends who-- for 18 months when they're both in their late twenties and having parallel professional crises-- live in the same two bedroom apartment in chicago and accidentally adopt a stray cat together, it's a stable thing in two lives that are otherwise anything but.

There's no reason to look at it deeper than that, no reason to really question a change in feeling that happens so slowly over so many, many years until eventually it just...is.

It's no big revelation, although it will become an important choice, but in the moment at the end of a long day of moving Eddie back to Indy where he and Will are hunkering down to write their next joint graphic novel endeavor, something just clicks for Steve.

Clicks into a place that maybe hadn't even existed before this night, sharing a beer on Eddie's new-old couch, music playing because they're too tired to hook up the TV properly, and sitting close after months apart while they've both been busy doing their own thing.

The walls of this little living room in this little house near Butler are still bare and the room is lit entirely by the glow of the kitchen filtering in and Eddie is laughing so bright and big at Steve's updates from the pottery studio where he works downtown and the way Steve suddenly wants to touch him, feel the laughter, taste it doesn't feel as sudden or shocking or massive as it probably should.

It just feels.

He's not drunk, hasn't really had the constitution for it since he passed his 35th birthday, but his body goes soft and warm in a sober replication of such a thing, and he doesn't try to stop the float of his hand to push a curl up off of Eddie's forehead-- hair shorter these days, but no less wild.

"You look good," he says, and Eddie's smile lines dig deep into his cheeks, dimples on full display as he swirls the inch of beer at the bottom of his bottle absentmindedly.

"You look like you could use some sun," Eddie tells him, still grinning, leaning into Steve's touch without an ounce of shame.

"It's November in Indiana," Steve levels him with a look that's second nature, "not all of us spent the past six months at the beach, Munson."

"Fair enough," Eddie chuckles, free hand tugging gently at the collar of Steve's shirt.

Sitting so close. Something clicks.

"Next time," Eddie's eyes had so much life to them when they met all those years ago, it's only grown in depth, the way they flicker across Steve's face tonight, "you'll just have to come with me."

It's not unclear, who kisses who, because Steve decides in that moment that he's going to kiss Eddie in the yellow glow of the kitchen light, but the way Eddie accepts it so forthright, kisses back without a beat of surprise or hesitation, it's almost like Steve just barely beat him to the punch.

He tastes like beer, tastes sun kissed and sweaty from a full day of carrying furniture inside, and Steve feels something that he's come to appreciate head-on in his life in a way he never really got a decade-plus ago.

Peace.

He's got Eddie Munson grinning against his lips, licking into his mouth, both of them all but giggling as the guy crawls into his lap, and it doesn't feel like time was wasted, it doesn't even feel like finally.

It just is.

Time and space and endless ongoing choices that led them here to Eddie's hands cupping Steve's jaw and Steve's grip on Eddie's waist over an old, soft t-shirt.

"You look good too," Eddie breathes, lips against Steve's temple as they catch their breath, a teasing sort of lilt to it that has Steve pinching the skin at Eddie's hip in retaliation because he'd said Steve needed some sun, but it's pretty clear that he's about to start getting plenty.

Eddie yelps and bites Steve's ear and god, oh god, something clicks.

Steve is going to buy this man flowers.

He's going to go into work tomorrow and throw a vase on the wheel to put them in.

#dot post #dot fic #stranger things #steddie #steve harringon #eddie munson #today's irregularly scheduled ramble for u all and look!!! no angst!! no warnings!!#are you proud mom

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bella-rose29 · 4 months

Text

Domestic Sweetness - part 1

requested by @oblivious-idiot: HI BELLE MY BELOVED you told me to make a formal request so!! can i request a lockwood x fem!reader - domestic sweetness, cooking for each other, lockwood giving reader his jumper, that kind of thing feel free to go as wild and fluffy as you like hehe

"Love is wont to bring many calamities upon men" is the other thing I based this on and I feel like it's very fitting indeed

I AM SO SORRY IT'S TAKEN ME ACTUAL MONTHS TO DO THIS BUT YOU HAD UPDATES ALONG THE WAY SO I HOPE THAT HELPED

word count: 4.6k

warnings: painfully sweet relationship depicted, lockwood actually gets injured quite a lot (sorry to my boy), swearing, I think that's it? oh wait no there's like one or two slight innuendos whoops

“Can you pass the sugar, Lockwood?”

“Sure, here.” A heavy jar was placed on the counter next to you, and you paused in your stirring to measure out the new ingredient. He was smiling widely at you, a grin that could rival the sun with how bright and happy it was, and you almost felt bad about telling him that he’d brought the salt instead of sugar. His brow furrowed, and he checked the label again. “Damn. Sorry, darling, I could have sworn I picked up the right jar. The sun must have faded the pen; I’ll rewrite it.” He pressed a quick kiss to the top of your head before going in search of a marker, turning back momentarily to pass you the actual jar of sugar.

George, Lucy, and Holly had gone out for the day, taking advantage of one of the last few warm days of autumn before winter started setting in and filled up their schedules with clients. Lockwood and Y/n had stayed in, making the most of the fact they had the house to themselves for a few hours and could make as much mess in the kitchen as possible without being shouted at. Besides, if the others did get mad then there would at least be cake to sweeten them up a little.

Lockwood let out a small triumphant “Ha!” from across the kitchen, telling you that he’d found a pen. There was a brief pause, the only sounds being those of the spoon in the mixing bowl bringing all the ingredients together, and then the sound of a mason jar being opened.

“Lockwood?” He hummed in response.

“What are you doing?” You stopped stirring to look over at your boyfriend just in time to see him eat a spoonful of whatever was in the jar he’d just opened. “Wha… what the actual fuck?” He grimaced, pulling a face and sticking his tongue out repeatedly as though it would get rid of the taste.

“…I had to check it was definitely salt.” He looked sheepish, a faint tinge of pink appearing on his cheeks and the tips of his ears as you stood with your hands on your hips and raised your eyebrows at him.

“Of course it’s salt, dipshit. I’ve got the sugar!”

“I didn’t want to get it wrong!”

“Are you sure you didn’t just want to see what a spoonful of salt tasted like?” He didn’t say anything, instead starting to write ‘salt’ on the label with far too much concentration. You sighed, turning back to the bowl. “Idiot,” you muttered, but there was a smile on your face regardless.

~~~

Lockwood could still taste the salt.

He’d washed his mouth out with roughly four cups of tea and six pints of water, but the tang of the teaspoon of salt he’d eaten earlier was still there. He couldn’t even complain about it either, because Y/n just laughed at him and said he had to live with the consequences of his actions.

At least he now knew what a spoonful of salt tasted like.

He heard you struggle a little from his place at the sink (he’d been put on washing up duty), and looked to his left to see you attempting to reach something on the top shelf. Drying his hands on the tea towel he slung it over his shoulder and stepped over, coming up behind to help. One of his arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you flush against his front, while the other reached up and took the second mixing bowl out of the cupboard. “Here you are, darling,” he whispered, deliberately lowering his voice and speaking directly into your ear, tightening his hold around your waist for a brief moment and delighting in both the involuntary shiver and small sound that left your mouth. He kissed your temple and let go, placing the mixing bowl on the counter and moving away to finish washing up.

“You,” his girlfriend started, clutching the sideboard, “are evil, Anthony Lockwood. Pure evil.”

He just laughed in reply, and yelped when you dipped your hand in the sink and threw soapy water in his face.

~~~

The cake had been sat on the side for a while now, sponges cooling down so that the icing that the two of you were currently making wouldn’t melt and slide right off.

“That’s way too much icing, isn’t it?”

“It’ll be fine. I’ll eat any leftovers.”

“Lockwood, you can’t just put everything in your mouth.”

“Icing won’t kill me, Y/n.”

You sighed, fighting back the smile that threatened to break through. “Still. You’ll probably be sick if you eat that much.” Lockwood didn’t bother hiding his grin, dipping a finger into the bowl to scoop some icing up. He laughed when you smacked his chest, smile never disappearing even when he nearly fell backwards off his chair. “Does it taste alright?”

“Yep. Tastes perfect. I could totally eat that whole bowl and not get sick.”

“Well,” you replied, standing up from the kitchen table and heading for the sponges. “You’re not going to find out if you can. The cake’s cool enough now. Here, take the spatula. You can lick it when we’re done. When we’re done, Anthony. Not now.” Lockwood pouted with the implement halfway to his mouth, sticking his bottom lip out so far it looked ridiculous, and you snorted and gave him a peck on the cheek. “C’mon, the cake won’t ice itself.”

A short while later the majority of the icing had been used, spread as neatly as possible over the cake that had now been assembled. “It looks pretty good!” Lockwood said, standing back to admire it.

“I just hope it tastes as good.”

“Of course it will. You always doubt yourself and then make the most incredible things I’ve ever eaten, so I don’t know why you’re always so unsure.” He’d said it so casually, inspecting the spatula in his hand and leaning back against the counter, and he was talking about cake, but it meant a lot. He wasn’t wrong, and the fact that he’d said that as nonchalantly as he had made your heart clench in your chest. Looking at Lockwood now, the afternoon sunlight streaming in through the window and casting him in a soft golden glow, you found yourself wondering how the hell you’d managed to end up with someone as wonderful as him.

Then he practically deep-throated the spatula, and the illusion of Anthony Lockwood as some magnificent and incredible person was partially shattered.

“Anthony, what the-” you cut yourself off, staring in shock at your boyfriend as he took the nearly-clean spatula out his mouth and stared back, the picture of innocence. You couldn’t even bring yourself to be mad, not when he was looking at you with those wide brown eyes and titling his head a little in a silent question. “Never mind.”

“What is it?”

“You- you just shoved the whole thing in your mouth!”

“Yeah, and?” He didn’t seem concerned about the fact he could have choked, instead resorting to licking the spatula like an ice cream to get the last of the icing off. For a moment, memories of his tongue doing a similar thing but in a very different context flooded your brain, not helped at all by the soft moan he let out at the taste of the icing.

“Just, uh… you could have- you…” He had that innocent look on his face again, and it was difficult to remember what you’d been saying. “Don’t worry about it,” you muttered, gaze fixed on the spatula. Lockwood noticed, of course, and immediately a smug look took over his features. He exaggerated his movements, and the spell was broken. It definitely helped take your mind off of… other things, especially when he accidentally smacked himself in the face with the spatula.

“Ouch,” he said, rubbing his cheek and frowning at the implement.

“It’s your fault, you know. I have no sympathy for you.”

“Rude.” There was no malice in his response, and the glare he gave you was teasing.

“What are we gonna do with the rest of the icing? There’s too much to put on the cake, but not enough to put on something else. It would be a shame to waste it.”

“Eat it?”

“You want to eat everything, Anthony.” He walked over to the sink, dropping the spatula in the water and cleaning it before moving to the kitchen table where the bowl of icing sat. “What are you doing now?”

“Come here,” he said, beckoning you closer with his left hand. His right was dipping into the icing bowl again, but before you could chastise him for it he was gently taking hold of your waist and pulling you in to his side, lifting his right hand to your mouth. “Open up.”

“Wha- just eat it off your hand? When did you last wash them?”

“You literally watched me wash them about a minute ago, I’m not sure why you’re concerned about that. We’ve got to eat the icing up, so if you won’t eat it then I will.”

“Fine. Go on then,” you said, sighing and opening your mouth. He paused for a moment, hand a few inches away from your face, and for a split-second you thought you saw a hint of amusement in his eyes. You should have realised that he would take advantage of the situation when his grip on your waist tightened, pinning you to his side so that he could wipe the icing on your cheek instead. A disbelieving scoff left your mouth, eyes widening as you took in the grin he was giving you. “Really? I thought you wanted to eat it?”

He shrugged. “I can lick it off afterwards.” Under the icing your cheeks burned. Recovering quickly you reached into the bowl yourself, grabbing the back of his top to stop him lurching away when he realised that he was under attack.

“Not a fucking chance you’re getting away with this,” you muttered, spreading the icing over his chin (he’d jerked his head back at the last second, and given the awkward angle it was the only part of his face you could reach). Now it was his turn to huff in incredulity, and there was a brief pause where the two of you stood - still grasping each other to prevent any escapes - and looked at each other.

Then something clicked, and at the same time you both made a mad scrabble for the icing bowl, hands dipping in to collect ammunition before attempting to smear the topping all over each other.

When Lucy, George, and Holly came home roughly half an hour later desperate for a cup of tea and a quiet evening in, they found you and Lockwood lying on the kitchen floor, icing spread around most of the room and baking trays used as what looked like makeshift shields, wide smiles on both of your faces.

George nearly had an aneurysm at the state of the kitchen, but after he made the pair of you swear to clean it before you went to bed and left the room in a huff he couldn’t help the smile that made its way onto his face.

~~~

“Did we run out of teabags again?” Lucy called from the kitchen. It was incredible how far her voice could carry, really, since you and Lockwood were in his room a floor up with the door closed and music playing, and yet could still hear her. George yelled back something about how he’d meant to go the other day but forgot, and he couldn’t right now because he was doing yoga. Holly had already gone home, and when Lucy appeared at Lockwood’s bedroom door a few minutes later you sighed.

“Why do we have to go? We just got comfy in bed,” Lockwood said, even though he was the only one currently under the covers and was still in his day clothes. You had been changing the music over, having grown bored of the previous record.

“Because I need to wash my hair? And George is probably butt-naked so he can’t go. You two are already dressed anyway, so why does it matter?”

“She’s got a point, Lockwood,” you started. “It’ll be fun! Besides, we’ll have some time for just the two of us, and-” You didn’t even get to finish before he was launching himself out of bed, grabbing your wrist, and hurling the both of you down the stairs, already reaching for his coat and shoes.

“See you later!” Lucy called, heading up to the attic. “Oh, and we need bread too!”

“Got it!” you yelled back, stifling your laughter at how frantically Lockwood was moving. “Why’re you going so fast? No, slow- slow down!” He had pulled your own coat off the rack and started putting your arms through the sleeves, and was now wrapping his yellow and brown patchwork scarf around his neck.

“What? Am I not allowed to want to spend time with you? Alone?” He waggled his eyebrows around at the last word, leaning in close and aiming for a kiss, lips pursed comically as he shut his eyes. You pushed his face away, snorting at his theatrics, and put your own scarf around your neck before heading for the front door. Stuffing a bag in his coat pocket (you would never understand how he could fit so many things in them, they were stupidly deep) he followed after you, and it wasn’t long before the two of you were walking down the road hand in hand (or rather, hand in arm; your palms always got uncomfortably sweaty whenever you held hands for too long, and Lockwood had long since learned that letting you nestle your hand in the crook of his elbow was much better for both of you).

“Teabags and bread, right?” you asked, double checking with Lockwood that you hadn’t got it wrong in the five minutes since you’d left the house. Lockwood hummed in response, a soft smile decorating his face. He turned his head to look down at you, and while his smile was still small you could see the happiness in his eyes. It was strange: before meeting him you hadn’t ever thought that someone could look at you like that, but here was Anthony Lockwood, gazing at you like there was nothing else in the world - in the universe - that mattered more than you.

Maybe he should have considered that other things did matter, because barely two seconds later he walked face first into a lamppost.

You desperately wanted to comfort him and check that he was alright but instead laughter burst its way up and out, making you double over and wheeze.

“It’s not funny!” he exclaimed, clutching his nose, but there was a badly concealed grin under his hand.

“I’m sorry,” you managed to get out, except you were still laughing and probably looked everything but sorry. “You just- you just walked straight into it!”

“Funnily enough,” he started, wincing as he prodded his nose with his index finger, “I was aware of the fact I walked into a lamppost. Not sure what it was that made me aware of it; maybe the way my entire face hurts has something to do with it?” Your laughter had died down now, one or two small giggles still breaking through, and you moved closer to inspect his face yourself. Knocking his hands away, you brought your own up, feeling along the skin to check for… well you weren’t really sure what you were checking for, but his nose didn’t seem broken, and he didn’t have any cuts or bleeding. He might end up with a bruise or two, but he’d wear them just as proudly as the slight blue tinge on his hand from years ago or the very large eye bags he couldn’t seem to get rid of.

“Sorry,” you said again, meaning it a little more this time. You paused for a moment, a slightly guilty look appearing on your face. “I really wish I had had my camera with me to catch that though, is that bad?” He stared at you in open-mouthed shock, but the amusement glistening in his eyes told you it was just pretend.

“How… dare you!” He lunged, arms outstretched in an attempt to catch you, but you spun away just in time, laughing loudly and jogging away down the pavement. Lockwood rushed after you, and his long spindly legs made the distance you had created seem like nothing. He wrapped his arms around your midriff from behind, pulling you back against him and lifting you up in the air all in one go. He spun the both of you around, unable to stop his own laughter as you kicked and squeezed your eyes tightly shut, and after what felt like far too long (but in reality was probably no more than five seconds) he put you down again, twisting you around by his grip on your waist so that you were facing each other. “So rude,” he muttered, grinning while he leaned in to press a quick kiss to your lips. “So rude.” Lockwood pulled back, releasing your waist and moving to the outside of the pavement while dramatically doing a little bow and offering up his arm.

“Are you sure your face is alright?”

“I’m sure. A bit sore, but I’ve had worse. A cup of tea when we get back will help, I think.” He was still bent a little in the middle so you took his arm and let him stand up straight and lead you down the road again.

~~~

“Is that all we needed?” you asked, walking back over to where Lockwood stood with the shopping basket. “It doesn’t seem like a lot given we came to the big shop.” Lockwood looked a little sheepish for barely a second, quickly schooling his expression back into one that looked more like ‘I’m so happy to be out with my girlfriend’, but you caught it regardless. Narrowing your eyes, you spoke again. “We didn’t need to come here, did we.” It wasn’t a question, and Lockwood shrunk back a little. “We could have gone to Arif’s; you saying he was shut was a lie!”

“Sorry,” he grinned. “I just wanted to spend more time with you, is all.” How could you stay mad at him when he was looking at you like that? Those brown eyes would be the death of you, you were sure of it.

“Fine,” you replied, drawing out the word. “But we’re buying biscuits.”

“Happy to, since it means we get longer together before you have to go home.” The pair of you started walking again, heading for the biscuit isle, when Lockwood stopped abruptly in the middle of the store. “Did you need anything? You know…” he waved the hand that wasn’t holding the basket in the vague direction of your body. “I seem to remember you saying you were running out of something? Pads, maybe? Or was it the liner thingies? Oh! And painkillers, we need more of those. George used the last for a headache he had the other week and I forgot to restock.”

“How… you remember me saying that?” He started dragging you away from the biscuit isle and instead towards the toiletries isle, seemingly nonplussed about the fact he’d remembered one off-hand comment you had made ages ago.

“Of course I do. I keep a little list in a notebook so I don’t forget anything. Ah, here we are.” He stopped walking to frown at the display of products before the two of you. “Actually… I have no idea what I’m looking at right now.”

“That’s alright,” you responded, reaching out for the things you needed. “I would have completely forgotten if you hadn’t reminded me, and that would have been a disaster.” As soon as you were done, basket just that little bit heavier, you both turned and left for the biscuits for the second time.

“You pick,” Lockwood said as you neared. “I picked the biscuits last time and the others aren’t here, so tough luck for them.”

Despite you all calling it the Big Shop it was only a small amount larger than Arif’s, and as such the aisles weren’t all that much taller - you could often find Lockwood’s head floating above the shelves which made it easy to not get lost - but it did mean that if anybody was below the height of the aisles, they were practically invisible. Unfortunately someone had been just around the corner of the biscuit aisle, hidden behind a board advertising a brand, and you didn’t have time to correct your course.

“Oof! Watch it!”

At first you thought you’d bumped into a small child, possibly around six or seven years in age but just above the average height, and that he was in need of a personality check for the attitude he’d just given you. Then when you blinked and the child stood up after being sent flying across the floor, you realised that you were in fact looking at Bobby Vernon instead.

“Sorry, Bobby,” Lockwood said, trying not to smile while the other agent brushed himself off. “Didn’t see you behind the display.”

“Lockwood, that display is the size of a large rat at most,” Bobby scowled, inspecting a non-existent rip in his Fittes uniform. You had only met Bobby Vernon once before (a few months ago, and he hadn’t said a word), and you were surprised that he apparently hadn’t gone through puberty yet. There was the odd crack in his words when he spoke, but otherwise his voice sounded like what could only be described as a mouse’s feet gently pattering over a tin roof, or perhaps something akin to a child talking to you in high tones very far away.

“I’m aware of that,” replied Lockwood, having given up on hiding his grin by now. “What are you doing here?”

“I was getting supplies for a case that we have tonight. Not sure if you remember what those are, Lockwood, but we’re fully booked for the foreseeable future.” He puffed his chest out, giving the impression of a fairy trying to make itself look bigger than it was, or a small pufferfish going up against a whale. His tone had gone all smug and holier-than-thou, and you didn’t much like it.

“Actually,” Lockwood started, with a look that told you he was about to start lying, “we’re doing quite well ourselves.” There it was. You’d spoken to Holly earlier that day, and the biggest job that Lockwood and Co had for the next week or so was hanging up lavender in a hotel a couple of streets away. Bobby raised an eyebrow (or tried to; it looked a lot more like he’d been told that someone had just adopted a pair of gerbils for him and named them Harold and Nancy or something ridiculous like that) and scoffed. Lockwood didn’t falter though, his smile staying plastered on his face and his posture confident (seriously, the boy had to have had dancing lessons with a back that straight), and after a few moments Bobby gave up scrutinising him.

“Well I’d best be getting on,” the Fittes agent said, straightening his jacket and sniffing. “Busy life and all that. I hope you fall in a river, Lockwood. Or set another building on fire so that they can finally take you out of the game.” You huffed an incredulous laugh, not believing how someone who looked so small and mouse-like could say something like that. Before either you or Lockwood could respond Bobby Vernon had walked off, his rapier dragging against the floor a little and nearly tripping him with how long it was compared to his body.

“He was nice,” you mused, turning to grab some biscuits. Jammy dodgers were the first to go in the basket, since George always ate the lot of them and rarely bothered with any others.

“Bobby’s always a joy to be around,” Lockwood replied, reaching his hand out for yours. You shook your head and put a packet of bourbons in the basket instead, already going for some chocolate covered hobnobs and digestives. Lockwood had started grabbing at yours, so you cast one last look at the basket and the shelves before indulging him. “Is that everything do you think?” He pressed a kiss to the top of your head, keeping his lips there while he waited for you to respond.

“Yeah, I think so. We can always pop out again tomorrow if we missed anything.”

Just under ten minutes later the pair of you were out of the shop, Lockwood carrying the bags in one arm and your hand resting in the crook of his other. It was darker now than when you’d left the house, the evening properly drawing in and clouds darkening the sky, but with Lockwood by your side the world could never be anything but bright. The wind picked up, ruffling his hair (that somehow managed to still look great while you looked like you’d been dragged backwards through a hedge) and threatening to pull his scarf away. You reached out to grab it before the end could break free, effectively making the both of you grind to a halt. “Thanks,” he grinned, probably completely unaware of how he made you feel. A sudden urge to kiss him like those scenes in the movies overtook you, and you took your other hand out of the crook of his elbow to grab a hold of the other end of his scarf. Tugging harshly on the fabric, you yanked Lockwood down to press your lips to his, closing your eyes right before contact.

Contact never came.

Not for you, anyway. Lockwood did make contact, but with the floor instead of your lips, and there was a painful sounding thud when he landed. “Oops…” you murmured, hands now held up by your face instead of holding Lockwood’s scarf.

There was a moment of silence where Lockwood was just lying on the pavement, face down while splayed out like one of those white chalk body outlines in crime reports, and then you couldn’t hold in your laughter anymore.

It bubbled up, and at the small groan that escaped your boyfriend you tried to stop, pressing your hand over your mouth in an attempt to prevent any more laughter. You were unsuccessful, instead laughing even harder when he lifted his head to show the red print of concrete on his cheek and scowled up at you. Luckily the shopping had stayed in the bags, so when Lockwood pushed himself up off the floor and brushed the stray bits of pavement off of him, all he had to do was pick up the bag. He gently touched a couple of fingers of his free hand to his nose, testing for any injuries, then nodded when he felt satisfied that there wasn’t anything too worrying. He caught you hiding your grin and gave you one of his own before opening his mouth.

“Kiss my nose better?”

You snorted, stepping closer to Lockwood but not yet obliging. You checked for any damage to his nose yourself, not trusting him to have done a good enough job. “What makes you think I will?”

“Well I think I deserve some sort of compensation for my injuries,” he replied, using his spare hand to pull you into his chest by your waist.

“Oh, really?”

“Mhm,” he said, voice growing quieter as he leaned in. His nose brushed against yours, warm breath on your face a pleasant contrast to the chill in the air. The wind was still pulling at your hair and clothes, rustling the plastic shopping bags in Lockwood’s hand and making your cheeks sting at the cold.

“Alright then, if that’s what the doctor ordered.”

“It is,” Lockwood muttered, but the end of his sentence was lost in your lips.

tag list:

@strawberryloveyyy, @chameleon021, @genderfluid-anime-goth, @cottagecore-babe, @anthonylockwoodandco111, @a-taken-url, @ahead-fullofdreams, @aislinrayne, @anathemaloren, @anthgoldenhrry, @augustisintheair, @aysha4life, @briar-rose23, @curseofhecate, @dangelnleif, @edible-rat-vomit, @el-de-phi, @ell0ra-br3kk3r, @ettadear, @fearlessmoony, @fudosl, @idkbubs, @imaginebeingmentallystable, @informedimagining, @karensirkobabes, @lady-ashfade, @light-23, @locklyebrainrot, @locklyle1kanij, @locknco, @magicandrosewaters, @mentallyillsodapop, @mischivana, @mitskiswift99, @mrsklockwood, @mrsyixingunicorn10, @newbooksmell777, @no-morning-glories, @novelizt, @phlooper, @ran23sblog, @reggiepeterss, @simrah1012, @somethingrandomwatzit, @star-of-velaris, @superpositvecloudshipper, @t2sh0, @taygrls, @tournesol77, @whistle1whistle, @whenselenefallsinlove, @wordsarelife, @y0urm0m12, @zoom1374, @asyouwish-fromcabin3, @rhysand-devorak, @a-candle-maker, @h0lyheck, @apple-bottom-jeans6, @icantwaittoliveandlearn, @moonlitcanvas, @cielooci, @35-portlandxrow, @laumire, @isimpfor-everyone, @furblrwurblr

@neewtmas, @bobbys-not-that-small, @avdiobliss, @demigoddess-of-ghosts, @maraschinomerry, @lewkwoodnco, @uku-lelevillain, and of COURSE @oblivious-idiot for the request

as always, if there is anybody who wants to be added to my lockwood tag list, then please go here!

#lockwood and co #lockwood & co #anthony lockwood #anthony lockwood x reader #lockwood x reader #anthony lockwood x you

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goddessfloresz · 28 days

Text

Her Recovery p1.

ONESHOT ❦︎ (very) [OC] FemReader x Larissa Weems

°° Reader is named Florere Dulcie since I dislike using Y/N when writing. 😓

" 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝚏𝚎𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚎 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚎𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚎. 𝚆𝚑𝚘 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍'𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚜𝚑𝚎'𝚜 𝚐𝚊𝚢? "

Being part of the Nevermore Family has unleashed something inside of you. The fear of being judged for expressing yourself was washed away once you had taken a step into the academy. For the first time in your life during your early-thirty's, you felt the freedom of expression you had ever so craved for. Being a professor means having the advantage of wearing anything that came into mind, of course it would need to be appropriate for teaching.

It took some time for you to adjust into Nevermore. The first week was quite a hassle since you already had a lot in your hands.. To moving in the teachers dorms, to organizing your class schedule, to designing your classroom, to decide what lessons you would be teaching for the curriculum, gosh there was too many to even decide! Welcome to the career you chose, I guess.. If only you weren't five foot two tall then you would've pursued modeling that kept calling out for your name. And here you are pursuing the job of teaching, to be able to at least inspire youngsters. But the main reason was.. you missed your daughter. You missed taking care of her, missing the presence of a child. In fact, you never thrown out a single picture of your daughter. Why couldn't you call your ex-husband if you're child-deprived? You couldn't, of course. You left your child's life without oh so suddenly.. and probably you were the villain in their eyes, so why would you bother to even try? Having this motherly instinct led you to Nevermore Academy to teach with passion. No wonder the students had immediately added you to their favorites list.

..Feeling as if Nevermore was your home.

You were plain, nothing special looked on you, you were 'normal' when you first set foot into Nevermore for the job interview. The observant principal took notice of how you drastically changed into this 'fashionista' that the staff and students had called you, because of basically how you had started to literally turn Nevermore into your fashion show. There was not a single day that you didn't capture anyone's attention..

There was just something about printed leopard clothing that set your heart ablaze, it was as if it was made just for you to wear. Especially the fur coats that you'd always love to wear during seasonal winters. Not to mention, you'd always have an eye for vintage fashion. You even made sure your hair had the style of Hedy Lamarr, an iconic Hollywood actress. It took almost six months of working in Nevermore to bring this celebrity or rather.. outcast out of you.

..And that made Larissa feel nothing more than proud of you because of your improvement.

Compliments never failed to make you flattered no matter how many times you've had received it from your students and faculty staff. It has been six months working under Nevermore, and it already feels like you know this place like the palm of your hand. This Academy was full of secrets waiting for their discovery and you were more than proud to figure out just that. But working for Nevermore also has its ups and downs.. For example; The murder of Rowan, one of the Academy's students. Gosh.. it never failed to give your skin goosebumps just from the thought of it. You were always late by the news of on-going happenings inside the school grounds, only being updated when your co-workers talk about certain topics. Plus, the fact that Wednesday Addams never failed to make the principal's blood boil.

Just as you thought everything chaotic was dying down, you were so wrong.

..Here you are, visiting Principal Weems's quarters in Jericho's Hospital for the third time in a week. Praying to the deities that she'll recover from the hell she just had experienced. If only that darn Marilyn Thornhill was caught earlier. You were worried like it was the end of the world when you had miraculously arrived just on time because of some rising voices inside the botany teacher's room. Greeted by the fact that the Principal's mouth was foaming, with her body fully paralyzed from whatever injected serum was stabbed on her.

If only.. if only you were not the type of woman who would shy away from their love interest. Then you would've spent more time with the apple of your eyes..

It as was if you regretted every single decision you made to avoid Larissa in any way because you simply had feelings for her. The whole semester was on pause because of this certain situation.. like how the whole academy stopped functioning for a certain while. Just as if you were sulking the fact of your awful decisions in life, blaming yourself in every possible way. You stopped on your tracks when the door to the principal's hospital room was half open. Taking a small peek before completely opening it, you couldn't believe your eyes that your co-workers had arrived and gathered before you.

Your eyes widen a bit when you heard a particular voice, none other than belonging to Principal Weems herself. Talking amongst the crowd almost sorroundings her bed.. Thank the heavens above for being able to hear your goddess's voice once again!

" Ah, Miss Florere, you've arrived just in time! " One of your co-workers welcomed your arrival with open arms. All heads turning unto you as you stood frozen still unto the door frame, including the head of a particular blonde. Your eyes immediately landing on eachother, taking note of her pale and natural look.. " You're more than welcome to come in, Miss 'Dulcie'. " The maiden name of your mother immediately snapped you back unto reality. You almost totally forgot that you had changed your complete identity when you decided to use your mother's maiden name than use the 'Gustavo' name. And gosh.. the way Larissa almost held you in chokehold by simply tapping her tongue to pronounce your name. This woman will surely be the death of you someday..

" Of course.. " you replied with a stutter as the blush on your cheeks grew and stepped a foot inside as you closed the door from behind. The atmosphere was comfortable and cheerful, despite the gloomy background still being there. But set that aside, everyone was here for the principal's quick recovery after all. It honestly surprised you because you almost saw her die before your eyes..

This certain situation made you feel at ease and relief now that Larissa's health has been stabilized.

Watching everyone talk comfortably to Principal Weems made you unable to contain that smile. Making your heart swell as you listened attentively on their conversations. " Regarding the second semester, please notify the students that it'll be postponed until further notice. We must prioritize the students mental health recovery from everything that has happened within the school grounds. " Her strong British accent quickly making anyone listen inside the room. Gosh.. this woman had just woken up from slumber and already thought about a strategy regarding the schools administrations? What is she even doing during her sleep, work? But not to mention, it was still pretty impressive. As expected from Principal Weems herself..

" Oh set the responsibilities aside, Principal Weems! Please.. focus on your recovery also. " A sentence that made almost everyone nodding their head, " Not to mention.. Miss Florere here got everything under control when you were gone. " Your co-worker said with a smile as all eyes were on you for the credits. You couldn't help but giggle slightly before replying, " Oh please.. Its not much of a big deal. I just made sure to send each of the student's parents some letter regarding the incident. Explaining everything they needed to know and give some reassurances on their child's education inside Nevermore Academy.. " You couldn't help but glance at Larissa who seems to have a pleasing smile and seeming to notice the way her tense body relaxed.

" Not to mention, Miss Florere here made sure to bring you some flowers everyday. "

" It's the least I could do.. " You couldn't help but mutter shyly as you lowered your gaze on all the credits you've received. Unknowingly that all of the little things were noticed by the staff and we're exposed to the Principal itself. Larissa couldn't help but grow her smile more, seemingly applauding you silently as you felt her gaze bore unto you. But her gaze quickly returned when conversations seem to spark again.. and there you were behind the crowd, flattered by all the credits you had received.

As time passes by, the nurse had came in the room to remind the dear visitors about the curfew regarding visiting hours. Which made that gloomy atmosphere somehow seep in upon the reminder.. It was honestly a hard thought that you would be leaving this woman all alone for the sake of recovery. After few more conversations, the staff had decided it would be best to leave earlier to avoid some scolding from the medical health workers. You were the last to leave.. making you stop on your tracks once again when you heard Larissa's voice from behind.

" Professor Dulcie.. for a moment? " The only woman who called you by your mother's maiden name.

" Yes? " You turned around, breath immediately hitching as you made eye contact with her beautiful blue orbs.

" Would you fetch me my laptop? And perhaps other things like.. anything that could cure my boredom during my recovery. Could you bring my items tomorrow evening? " Her voice ever so gentle and soft, making you almost immediately melt on the spot.

" Of course.. anything for you, Principal Weems. " The last sentence was totally unplanned, it came out of your mouth automatically. Was this the effect by being under her gaze?

In which, Larissa responded with a giggle. Making your eyes slightly widen from realization of what you had just said. Gosh you are more than exposing yourself! But my gosh.. her giggle was beautiful too, almost making you weak on your knees. You wished you could hear it everyday..

" I'll take note of that, Professor. " She replied with that pearly whites of hers.

That certain interaction replayed in your head, because you were sure that her reply had a hint of playfulness. Or where you just being delusional? But oh well.. this was it. The start of getting to know Larissa, and aim for establishing a friendship with her. After all that happened in a blink of an eye? That you almost lost the source of your heart beat? You were now firm with your decision to establish a friendship with the Principal of Nevermore Academy. Or possibly.. even more than friends.

In fact, you couldn't sleep last night. Larissa's reply kept ringing into your head like a bell.. it was the reason behind your sleepless night. You were certainly aware that you were acting like a complete teenager girl fan girling over some 'stupid' crush. But oh dearest Larissa was more than 'just a crush'. She was your muse, your goddess.. you are so in love. And you aren't denying it anymore.

You carefully gathered everything essential unto the desk of the principal. Her laptop, her documents, her notebook and pen, the clothes and hairpins she needed once she got fully healed, her hygiene kit, and.. her signature red lipstick? Of course, you thought that it would be better to bring it. Since you've barely seen her never wear the red lipstick, thinking that every woman has her comfort, and the red lipstick was exactly what you think Larissa needed. You couldn't help but feel something was missing.. but you were also sure you've gotten everything important. You shrugged that thought off immediately when you've checked every stuff needed, and packed it into this large leather bag of yours. You wouldn't be bothered if you left it into the possession of Larissa. As you said.. you would do anything for this woman.

•••

The Principal's face lit up once you've finally showed up into the hospital quarters.

" I've got everything. " You tried not show how nervous you actually were. Because you were unsure if you even got the essential things she requested and needed.

" Thank you so much, dear. " You couldn't help but blush at the pet name, as you basically helped set up the laptop on her bed desk. Seeming to notice that she was way more lively than usual.. it seems like she's recovering real well. Which made you unable to hide your smile at that thought, because that's exactly what you were wishing for.

As silence crept in, you hesitated for a moment to start a conversation as Larissa was now focused on turning on her laptop. Staring at her signature red lipstick inside the bag, you were practically fighting demons inside of you to make such a decision that took so much courage..

" I don't think the principal would survive without her red lipstick.. " You cracked a joke as you showed her, her signature red lipstick. Larissa couldn't help but raise a brow as she looked at you, but the moment she layed eyes on her lipstick she couldn't help but smile ear to ear.

" Hm? How did you know? " The blonde replied to your joke with a giggle, seeming to ride with your joke. You couldn't help but giggle in reply too, handing her the red lipstick as the blush on your cheeks grew.

" My dear professor.. I can't apply my lipstick without a without a mirror. " Larissa said as she opened her lipstick, her gaze running back to you. " Oh right! I think I got it..- Oh. " You immediately turned around to clutter inside the bag over nothing. So that's what you were missing, a mirror.

" I-I'm sorry, Principal Weems.. I don't think I have brought any- "

" Can you help me put it on? "

" ..What? "

" What I meant is.. May you please kindly help me apply the lipstick, Professor? "

𝙰/𝙽: Soo, this chapter is almost inspired by a fanfiction I've red in AO3, I've sadly forgotten the title and name of the author.. Hope you enjoyed this one! Honestly speaking; I discontinued this due to academics work load.. it was supposed to be a full available book in Wattpad. And I can't find the right time to do it sadly.

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epicbuddieficrecs · 2 months

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Weekly Recap | July 15th-21st 2024

I have a week off of work, woohoo! This week I mostly read all of my favourite WIPs that updated multiple times, thank you all for keeping me well fed 😎

Complete

is there some place where we can go right now? (i don't think that it can wait) by sibylsleaves/ @sibylsleaves (Established Buddie, Bar Sex, PWP | 2K | Explicit): Buck, Eddie, and the inside of a bar bathroom

you call me pretty little thing by sibylsleaves/ @sibylsleaves (Established Buddie, Panty Kink, PWP | Explicit): “Buck,” Eddie breathes after a moment. “Are you wearing—?” Buck nips at Eddie’s slack mouth and says coyly, “Why don’t you see for yourself?” Eddie, it seems, doesn’t need to be told twice. He shoves Buck off his lap, tearing his sweatpants down his hips to reveal the tiny, pink lace panties Buck has on beneath them.

looking for something dumb to do by sibylsleaves/ @sibylsleaves (Buddie Wedding, PWP | 4K | Explicit): It’s also not unusual that the app bay is almost empty when they walk inside, save for one engine parked along the side. What is unusual is the rows of white folding chairs facing the back wall. And the archway adorned with greenery and pale pink blossoms set up beneath the loft. And all of their friends milling about the app bay, dressed up like… Like they’re attending a wedding.

Hell or High Water by glorious_spoon/ @glorious-spoon (4x04: What's Your Grievance, PWP, First Time | 5K | Explicit): That’s Buck’s cue to put a stop to this before it crosses a line they can’t come back from. Before he says something or does something that means Eddie will never touch him or smile at him or let him into his home again. Buck breaks things; that’s what he does. And he’s tried so hard not to break this.

🔥 my man says he loves me (never says he loves me not) by colonoscopys/ @colonoscopys (Post-S7, Identity Porn | 9K | General): It’s the summer after Eddie blows his life up that he realizes he kinda wants to do it again. He’s looking at the TV, watching some shitty, fuzzy screen show that Buck favored on his last shift, and letting sleep kinda wash in and wash out. There’s an ad after a while. “Are you struggling with being in love with your best friend too?” The man asks. “You should sign up for inlovewithmybestfriendandgoingtodie.com. A support group dedicated to people in love with their best friend, inlovewithmybestfriendandgoingtodie.com is a great way to learn how to cope and survive when you’re in love with someone you’ll never have!” Eddie gapes at the screen.

WIP

🔥 Held Up a Lightning Rod (Wonder Why I'm Struck) by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels/ @letmetellyouaboutmyfeels (Not A Firefighter Eddie, Sugar Baby Buck | 17/22 | 88K | Explicit): When Eddie Diaz stumbles his way into money, he finds himself one of the most eligible bachelors in Los Angeles - to his dismay. He needs a way to get people off his back without confessing his messy marital situation, and Shannon's still not answering his calls, so he caves to a friend's suggestion: hire someone to pretend to be his partner. Enter Evan "Buck" Buckley: sugar baby, fire fighter, and the man about to turn Eddie's world upside down.

🔥 Long Death by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Post-S7, Vampire AU | 8/12 | 33K | Explicit): In the summer of 2024, a never before seen form of vampirism breaks out in Los Angeles. Just as Eddie is about to get his son back. Six months later, Buck's life is permanently changed.

drift past the flowers. by dylaesthetics (Post-S6, (Un)requited Love | 6/12 | 18K | Teen): OR Buck and Natalia get engaged, and Eddie flees the state about it. A petty email correspondence ensues.

🔥loves a game, wanna play? by 42hrb/ @exhuastedpigeon (Post-S7, Love Island AU | 6/13 | 26K | Mature): In the aftermath of Chris leaving for the summer, Buck convinces Eddie they should apply for Love Island together.

🔥 Things We're All Too Young to Know by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Canon S1-S6, Divergent Post-S6 | 131/? | 413K | Mature): This is a love story. Even if it doesn’t always look like it. Even if it doesn’t always feel like it. A look back on Eddie and Buck's lives up to now, and what led them to each other, interpreted from the current 9-1-1 canon.

🔥 If You Can Make the Music by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Canon Divergent, | 4/5 | 11K | Mature): Spin-off Sequel to Evan Buckley & the Coma-Verse of Madness - Chapter 5 (Seaside): A year after a whirlwind two week love affair with bartender Buck in Galveston, Texas, Eddie Diaz finds himself coincidentally relocating to the area. But when he attempts to reconnect with Buck, he's in for an unfortunate surprise. (Part 3 of Coma-Verse)

#epic buddie fic rec #buddie fic rec #buddie fanfic #buddie fic #buddie fanfiction #buddie

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delulustateofmind · 5 months

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Between Worlds Part IV

A/n: Sorry for the short chapter! I'm going to be really busy this week with work so I won't have another update til next week probably. Next week's update with be part two of "A City of Dreams" and part five for between worlds. Thank you everyone for the love on the last one. Hope you guys enjoy a bit of Azriel's pov. :))

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five: Coming soon!

Summary: Reader wakes up in ACOTAR a year after the war with Hybern. A bunch of events happen that leads to them waking up in a one night stand with Azriel.

Trigger Warnings? None!

Work Count: 1.2k

‎‧₊˚✧ Reader POV ✧˚₊‧

Azriel left nothing but his scent of night-chilled mist and cedar lingering in the air. After he departed, you made your way into the estate, feeling somewhat dazed as you traversed up the steps and through the doorway. give Thoughts of your recent conversation swirled in your mind. How could Azriel be so considerate? He seemed to accept the bargain without too much hesitation, despite gaining nothing from it. Azriel’s unexpected acceptance left you feeling uneasy. Did he have a plan, or was he simply indulging on a whim? It was hard to tell with someone as enigmatic as Azriel. After all, to the fae, three months might feel like a mere blink of an eye.

As soon as you stepped into the hall of the estate, your maid who seemed to be in a frantic mood quickly intercepted you as she caught your eye, her expression tense as she guided you to your bedroom. “Where have you been?” she chided softly, her grip on her apron betraying her nerves. “You’ve never done anything like this before, in all twenty-six years of your life. If your parents found out…why they would never let you leave again.”

“I’m sorry…I stayed the night with Hazel,” The lie seemed to slip out, almost like muscle memory. A few thoughts occurred to you.

But what if you told her the truth? Would she be excited? How long has she been your maid? What even if her name?

A small huff pulled you away from lingering thoughts.��

“You smell like a drunken fool, you look like one too. Bath, now” Your maid instructed, her tone firm as she closed the bedroom door behind us.

“Thank you for covering for me” your voice barely above a whisper, as you made your way to the bathroom attached to your bedroom quarters. The words felt hollow on your tongue, weighed down by the guilt of deceiving everyone around you. Yet, somehow beneath the surface, a sliver of relief flickered, knowing that you had someone you could trust somewhat.

Before you began to strip off the dress, you looked over at your maid who was searching your closet for a dress. You simply stated.

“Could you find me a journal? One with a lock or a ward?” Your maid gave you a quizzical look and shrugged with a nod. A wave of her hand ushered you to quickly bathe as there was much to do today.

‎‧₊˚✧ Azriel POV ✧˚₊‧

I winnowed back to the outskirts of the House of Wind, the rush of air exhilarating as I took flight. My wings unfurled to their full span, casting long shadows across the ground as I landed softly in front of the house. As I made my way to my room, a deep sigh escaped my lips, the weight of recent events pressing down on me.

My mate

The realization still felt surreal, after all these years of waiting. Yet, despite my excitement, doubts nagged at the edges of my mind. Was she afraid? Last night, she seemed drawn to me, but today, only fear and concern marred her features.

What was she hiding?

I understand my reputation proceeds me, as I’ve done horrible things. I’ve killed, tortured, and manipulated in more ways than I could count. I know I’m undeserving of a mate, one that seemed so perfect. Yet, somehow, I feel as if she already knows of the horrible things that I’ve done. The way her fingers would brush across my scarred hands as if they weren’t… horrible as if they hadn’t caused pain and hurt to the world.

The shadows… I never expected them to be so soft

You seemed to see his shadows as a part of him, something to be cherished and praised. While others thought of them as something to be feared, something people shunned besides his family. Yet, how often did you think about his shadows, especially since you both have never met before?

The chances of you two meeting were slim, it could have happened in passing. Your father is one of the government officials for Velaris. A kind man, though he had only spoken to him maybe once or twice. Though, I could never forget her if we had met, the way her eyes seemed to gleam up at me like stars. Eyes that made him feel safe as if he could drown in them from the warmness they beheld.

For once, he felt like he could let his guard down, and it was a surreal feeling, one he was hesitant to admit. Perhaps, that’s why he trusts her so much that he made a bargain that didn’t benefit him in the slightest.

Why were you so intoxicating? Occupying his mind like a drug? We had only just met, yet I crave you.

The urge to send a few of his shadows your way to at least know that you’re safe. You seemed so trusting and naive, what if someone used that against you? Though he knew the terms of the bargain as he rubbed the small marking on his wrist. Didn’t mean he liked the terms.

Azirel also knew he didn’t have to wait three months to see you, but you looked desperate for something. As if you lacked time, you’re fae? Privileged fae…you had all the time in the world. Therefore, what was causing that pretty little mind of yours to hesitate to be his mate? What did you need to complete before you both could be mated together?

A distraction is what he needed.

A curse was under his breath as he knew he was behind on reports that he needed to complete before the Starfall event with his family. He couldn’t let himself go crazy thinking of y/n and what she was doing. Perhaps, he would send flowers, maybe even a little shadow, one that he would command not to report to him but just so she knew he was still here…that if she needed him, he was a whisper away.

A deep sigh escaped his lips as he ran his fingers through his raven black hair grabbed a piece of paper and wrote a note. An awful idea really, but how harmful would it be?

My Dearest Y/n,

How you have ensnared me in your spell, I cannot fathom. Your very presence is a symphony of enchantment, weaving its melody through the fibers of my soul. For you, my mate, I offer these flowers to brighten your hangover, accompanied by one of my shadows. Fear not for I have commanded them to honor our bargain, refraining from any prying or divulging of secrets. Should you ever need me, simply whisper to the shadow and I will come to you at a moment’s notice.

In truth, I am not one to resort to poetry or love letters, but for you, I would humble myself before the Mother.

With all my affection,

Azriel, your mate

With a flick of his wrist, a silent command, the shadow obediently trailed off, carrying the letter. Azriel had commanded it to bring flowers from Elain’s garden as well. As he watched the shadow disappear, a deep sigh along with a curse escaped his lips. Despite the tasks awaiting him, his mind remained preoccupied with thoughts of you.

Taglist: @mybestfriendmademe, @why4anne, @impossibelle, @lilah-asteria

#acotar #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel #acotar azriel #shadowsinger #oh to receive a love letter from a little shadow <3

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lunarthecorvus · 3 months

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Post Crooked Kingdom Canon Compliant fanfiction recommendations part of Lunar's soc fanficiton rec series

-------------------------------✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧----------------------------------

Vol. 1: Council of Thieves by lizaudreys

Wordcount: 122,891 Chapters: 45/45 (part of a series and is continued afterwards)

Characters: Kaz Brekker, Inej Ghafa, Jesper Fahey, Wylan Van Eck, Nina Zenik, Original Female Character(s), Original Male Character(s)

Tags: BAMF Inej Ghafa, Fluff and Angst, Jesper Fahey Has ADHD, Kaz Brekker Needs a Hug, Crime Children, Five Years Later, Post-Book 2: Crooked Kingdom, Hurt/Comfort, Slow Burn

Author's summary/notes: Five years after the Auction, the Crows have gone their separate ways. That is, until the Council of Tides demands that Kaz Brekker help rescue one of their newest initiates. Grisha all over are being targeted by ships disguised as slavers, rumors of a new form of jurda parem are spreading, and the fate of it all is yet again dependent on an unlikely gang of criminals. My summary/notes: Some fascinating council of tides lore, and the side/original characters in this fic are so interesting. Be prepared this fic has some wesper angst and some definite kanej angst, but there are some adorable moments. Goes into the crows friendships, especially Jesper + Inej and Kaz and Wylan (it does go into more dynamics). To finish it I will say there is a sort of ⊹hiest⊹.

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and you asked me to dance, but I said "dancing is a dangerous game" by sarathedreamer

Wordcount: 28,439 Chapters: 5/5

Characters: Inej Ghafa, Kaz Brekker, Wylan Van Eck, Jesper Fahey, Prince Ilya

Tags: Fluff and Angst, Fluff without Plot, Healing, Post-Book 2: Crooked Kingdom, Post-Book 2: Rule of Wolves, Hurt/Comfort, Canon Compliant ish

Author's summary/notes: “My darling Inej," he started in a very proper intonation, "treasure of my heart, feared Wraith of the Barrel, Scourge of the Seas, Bringer of Justice and Slayer of Men… would you like to dance with me?" Inej, Kaz, Wylan and Jesper get a very important invitation to the betrothal celebration of a certain Nina Zenik... angst, fluff, and yes, dancing, ensues between the King of the Barrel and the Queen of the Seas. This is part two of my kanej x cowboy like me series! I would highly recommend reading part one first before you dive into this :) Spoilers for RoW and obviously the Soc duology. Most of this is canon compliant because I love to play by the rules (except that we forget about the last two pages of Rule of Wolves for the sake of fluff and angst only... hehe) My summary/notes: Part of the kanej x cowboy like me series, which is such a good series, if you want kanej fluff then that is the series for you. This fic is Inej and Kaz being head over heels with each other for 5 chapters straight, featuring some wesper and Nina. May I intrigue you into this reading this fic by saying it has Kanej flirting and Captain Ghafa. Also THEY DANCE.

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Dealing With Our Demons by @ravenyenn19

Wordcount: 807,697 Chapters: 174/? (updates generally every few months)

Characters: Kaz Brekker, Inej Ghafa, Jesper Fahey, Nina Zenik, Wylan Van Eck, (as well as many other original characters and six of crows side characters)

Tags: Romance, Friendship, Love, POV Kaz Brekker, BAMF Inej Ghafa, Fluff, Romantic Fluff, Eventual Smut

Author's summary/notes: Inej's first letter back to Kaz after she leaves on her journey to hunt slavers, reunion ensues! Will they continue to learn how to battle their demons in order to get close to one another? My summary/notes: A classic Kanej fic, almost every Kanej fanfic reader knows this fic, the writing is impeccable. This fic made me fall in love with both Anika and Pim and then Pimika. To me this fic is canon. Now for a summary, this fic take you on a journey of healing and growing with both Kaz and Inej. You will come out of this fic a changed person.

#six of crows #kaz brekker #grishaverse #inej ghafa #crooked kingdom #soc #kanej #nina zenik #jesper fahey #wylan van eck #matthias helvar #kanej fanfiction #kanej fanfic #six of crows fanfic #six of crows fanfiction #lunars fanfiction recs #lunars fanfic recs #lunars fanfiction rec series ☾₊ ⊹

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kinzis-writing · 5 months

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Better than Revenge | Mattheo Riddle [6]

The end of the school year is approaching, and Y/N is trying to make a plan to flee from her house. Where could she go that the death eaters wouldn’t find her? Better yet, how could she manage her relationship with Mattheo.

Pairing: Mattheo Riddle x Y/N Nettleby

Warning(s): a few cuss words, mentions of sexual material, out of character Mattheo, soft! Mattheo, ooc theo. mentions of smoking.

vi. “what if all i need is you?”

Chapter Six

Note: Long time no see! I went ahead and tagged everyone who I had for my list, if you wish for your tag to be removed just let me know! If I forgot someone, just let me know and I’ll fix it. ☺️ I’m finally done with school; I took my last final yesterday. This means that I know have time to update so it should be finished by July! 🫶🏼

Word Count: 4k

*Not proofread or edited* — *Gif Not mine*

It had been a month or two since students came back to Hogwarts from their holiday breaks. Since then, everyone at Hogwarts had noticed a difference between Y/N and Mattheo. Their relationship seemed to flow naturally, and they did not look to be on edge. Everyone knew that things had changed during winter break, even Hermione had figured it out and confronted the Gryffindor group about it in front of the Nettleby girl. Y/N obviously told them the truth about how they had connected over the course of the break and had admitted that everything from two years ago to now was just in their feelings. It was safe to say that Hermione, Ron, and Harry did not approve and had nothing nice to say.

Y/N had taken off and headed towards the library knowing that finals were coming up soon and she wanted to give her friends time to come to terms with her having feelings for the Riddle boy. They needed time to adjust to the information and she was more than happy to give it to them when needed. She truly understood both sides of the people in her life. She knew the golden trio only seen her boyfriend as Tom Riddle’s son, the same way that Mattheo only seen Harry and all his friends as an enemy because of his father. She could see and understand the conflict from both sides, but she hated that she was in the middle of the battlefield.

Y/N was knocked out of her thoughts as a tall figure fell into steps with her, “Been awhile. I almost did not recognize you without your boytoy on your hip.” The voice of Theodore Nott spoke up as he made sure to keep up with her. She was not in the mood to deal with the stuff from her ex-boyfriend, usually she avoided him or let Mattheo handle to conflict as he knew how to take care of his friends. The last time she had seen Theo was when they were at the family dinner months ago.

Y/N Nettleby rolled her eyes and came to a halt to keep him from following her any further, “What do you want Theodore?” she asked annoyed, crossing her arms over her chest as the boy stepped in front of her.

Theodore made sure he was facing her and leaving little room between the two, “a little birdie told me that your relationship with Riddle was a ploy. A way for you to make me jealous.” He spoke with amusement in his voice.

Y/N let out a laugh while looking over her ex, “and you believe that because?” she asked and trailed off for him to answer her question. When he did not say anything, but still held himself with a smirk and arrogance, she knew that he wouldn’t leave without a fight. “Listen, if you’re still pissed about us having sex, get over it. It is MY body Theo and I decide who I want in it.” She snapped her anger growing at the tall boy in front of her. “… and who I don’t.” she added hoping to strike a nerve.

“If you honestly think your relationship with Mattheo is real, you’re sadly mistaken.” Theo replied dangerously low. Y/N could tell that he was angry, but she wouldn’t fear him or back down. She knew how to take on Theodore whether she acted like she did or not. “He told me himself that he doesn’t believe in love, that he doesn’t believe in relationships.”

Y/N shook her head, “People change Theodore.” She stated, knowing that his only fight would be to try and ruin what the couple had built. “The sooner you realize that he’s using you, the easier the heartbreak will be.” The Nott boy muttered to the girl in front of him. “Did he tell you why he dated you so easily, and do not say it’s because he “cares” or “loves” you” Y/N glared at the boy in front of her. What did she ever see in him, she didn’t know. “He wanted to get close to Harry and your friends. He is doing his mother and father’s dirty work, and he knows if he gains all your trust that you’ll give him the information he needs to know.”

Y/N’s heart was thumping, because she knew that Mattheo had his own reason to start the plan and what if her ex was right? It didn’t change what had happened over the break, but to think that she would agree so easily without knowing what he fully wanted made her nervous.

“What the hell did I tell you about staying away from my girlfriend, Nott.” The voice of Mattheo Riddle spoke up from behind the Gryffindor girl. Theo’s smirk never wavered as he took in his ex’s appearance in front of him. He knew that she was considering what he had said. “What do you want with her?”

Theo wasn’t startled by the boy who was talking to him. If anything, he expected it. He knew that Mattheo had feelings for the girl. Mainly because Riddle had never shown any kind of emotion the way he had around Y/N. “Just shedding some light for your sweet little Y/N.” He replied.

Mattheo took Y/N’s appearance into account before stepping in the small space between the two. Her body language was obviously uncomfortable, and her eyes were still glaring into her ex. “Whatever you felt the need to tell her is irrelevant. Leave her alone if you know what is good for you.” Mattheo snarled before grabbing Y/N by the hand and leading her towards the library where he assumed she was going.

The couple didn’t say anything, but Mattheo did take a detour, leading them out towards the black lake. Knowing that they could have alone time there and he also wouldn’t get in trouble for smoking. The couple sat on the ground making sure to face the lake. Mattheo had an idea of what Theo wanted to talk about, mainly because Enzo had come to the boy this morning and told him that Theodore was telling everyone that his relationship was fake.

“It wasn’t your smartest idea to bring me with you when you’re smoking.” Y/N mumbled as she picked at the green grass beside her. Her gaze quickly turning to the calm water in front of her, yet she knew what lingered in there. “Besides I have studying that needs to be done.”

Mattheo blew out a puff of smoke while analyzing her demeanor, “What did he say to you?” he asked softly noticing the way you were acting. It made him anxious, knowing that Theo knew some information that could make you think differently of him. He held out hope that you wouldn’t judge him if you ever found out because for the longest time, he just wanted to make his father and mother proud. Now he could care less.

Y/N’s gaze remained on the black lake while her boyfriend was smoking, “you know how Theo is when he’s jealous.” She shrugged, bringing her knees up to her and tucking them into her chest.

“You don’t have to be hesitant to talk to me.” Mattheo muttered looking away from the girl that he was starting to fall for.

Y/N sighed, “he just said that you don’t believe in love or relationships and that you’re just using me to get to Harry and my friends. He also said that he “heard” that our relationship was fake.” She shrugged trying to make it seem like it was nothing. Most of it was nothing, she was starting to fall in love with the boy beside her and she didn’t really care how it went. Riddle took an inhale of his cigarette before slowly exhaling while he processed the information that he had just heard. “You were the reason I didn’t do relationships.” He spoke softly and quietly. He avoided her gaze as he crushed his cigarette to the ground to stop it from burning. “I have been drawn to you since I met you formally at the Malfoys Christmas party five years ago. It took me almost a year just to start talking to you and gaining you as a friend. Sean had talked about his sister but for the longest time, but I never looked at anyone that wasn’t in Slytherin.” He started explaining and moved his gaze from the ground to the black lake. He could feel y/n’s eyes burning into him. “I liked you before we even became friends, but I felt as if I didn’t know you enough to feel like that, so I pushed it down and then we got close. I convinced myself that I was wrong for you, and you fell into the arms of Nott.”

Y/N carefully scooted herself over, so her side was pressed up against his, “what about after that night?” She asked carefully, wanting to know what went through his mind three years ago. “You avoided me, acted like you hated me, and then I got with Theo.”

The riddle boy wasn’t sure what to say. He understood why he did what he did, but when he thought about it, it was dumb and selfish. “I was worried that you would regret it, and I knew the life you were trying to make for yourself. It didn’t involve my dad’s army and I knew I wouldn’t have a choice. You deserved better and you still do, but I want you to do whatever makes you happy and if that’s being with me then I’m not denying.”

Y/N wrapped her arms around his arm and laid her head on his shoulder, “I didn’t regret it. I love you, Teo. I know that you may not want to say that yet and that’s fine. I just want you to know that I’m not going anywhere, I wanted you instead of Theodore this whole time.” She finally admitted. It felt good to get that secret off her chest, all those times that she had wished she were with Mattheo instead of Theodore.

Mattheo gently placed his head on top of hers, “I agreed to the plan for two reasons. I wanted to show you what being with me would be like and at first, I did think I could get close to Harry. But I wasn’t planning to use you or getting information out of you.” He told her honestly knowing that it was best to tell the truth instead of trying to dodge it.

Y/N gently pulled her head out from his and looked up at him, “thank you for being honest.” She whispered and gave him a small smile. Mattheo nodded knowing that as long as he’s honest with her that they could get through anything. Mattheo carefully leaned forward and captured her lips with his. Wanting nothing more than to be able to feel her next to him.

Off in the distance an angry Theodore watched the couple, knowing that the information about the said relationship being fake was untrue.

A few days later Y/N sat snuggled up on Mattheo’s lap in the Slytherin common room while the couple talked to Enzo, Draco, Pansy, and Sean. A couple of Slytherin’s had joined in on the conversation who everyone called Astoria and Daphne, Astoria was the youngest, and was only in her third or fourth year.

“Y/N, what’s your plans for the summer?” Pansy asked, everyone turning to the girl that hadn’t said much. Sean knew that she was trying to come up with a way to not return to their house. Knowing that the dark mark awaited her the second she stepped into the house.

Mattheo gave her a little squeeze from where his hand was sitting on her side, “I, I was thinking about looking for a place on my own.” She spoke after a few minutes of being silent. “I’m at the age of consent and we’ll be finishing up here soon.” She tried to make her plans sound casual and not like she was in a rush to leave her current living situation.

Just as she was hoping, no one thought much of what the girl had said and went into their own conversations. While everyone was arguing over their life and what they were going to do the next two months, Y/N and Mattheo had managed to sneak off and go towards the dorms.

“I mean this in the nicest way possible, but is Daphne always like that?” Y/N asked as Mattheo shut the door behind them. It felt nice to get away from the Slytherin friend group, while it was nice to see what her boyfriend and brother are up too, she missed her friends and, in some ways, it reminded her of them.

“She’s probably a bit tipsy.” Mattheo replied while shaking his head at his friend’s downstairs. “She’s had a bit of a problem since her boyfriend dumped her.” He added joining Y/N to his bed.

“Understandable.” Y/N nodding knowing that she would probably be tipsy most of the time if Mattheo left her.

“So… about you looking for a place in a few weeks.”

Y/N nodded knowing that he knew the reason, but she had yet to talk to him about it. “Yeah. I know running from my parents isn’t going to work forever but maybe it will for a bit.” She explained. It was going to be hard looking for somewhere to stay, but she knew that it was possible “Have you heard from your family?” she asked carefully, knowing how the boy in front of her hated talking about his parents. He acted cold and distant around school but deep down she knew that he just wanted to keep the intimidating façade up.

“She’s probably with my father.” Mattheo muttered loosening his tie due to him feeling like he’s suffocating just thinking about the plan they’re creating. “Just waiting for me to get home.”

“You don’t have to let them control you- “She started only to be cut off by a scoff from him.

“They’ll kill me, Y/N.” He snapped. He didn’t mean to get hostile but knowing he’d be back to school with the dark mark worried him about her wellbeing.

“You’re their son.” Y/N argued.

“That doesn’t matter, if they don’t want to do it his minions will.” Mattheo argued back with her.

Y/N stayed quiet knowing that he understood his father’s army better than anyone. Since he had stayed with death eaters his whole life. No doubt they were always looking for a way to bring him back. “You’re just going to take the mark? No fights.” She asked knowing that he would obey his so-called parents. Sometimes Y/N wonders how Mattheo turned out the way he did because he did not let his family define who he was. Yes, he acted like a dick around school but how he acts around his friends and the people he cares about was another story. Had Harry not described to her what Tom Riddle looked like in his Hogwarts days, Y/N would guess that his father was someone completely different.

Mattheo didn’t want to answer the question that she had asked him. Did he want to be like his father? No. Would he follow him? Probably. Not because he wanted to but because deep down, he was scared but he would never admit that. “The only thing I am going to promise you is that I’ll try my best to protect you from my family.” He whispered, not even knowing if he could accomplish that but he knew that he would gladly take any blame, curse, or punishment for keeping Y/N safe.

Y/N’s gaze softened at his promise, all her questions about his family gone. Knowing that it didn’t matter what happened, because overall, she wasn’t turning her back on the boy in front of her. “I love you.” She assured him. Again, she knew how hard it was for him to say any words of that sort, so she didn’t expect to hear it back. She just knew that he would need those reminders for the days to come.

Without letting him even consider saying it back, she gently placed her lips on his. One of the first times that she had initiated the kiss first, but she knew that he didn’t mind. Her hand came up and landed gently on his jaw line while one of his moved to the back of her neck and the other one wrapped around her hand that laid on his face. Y/N gently pulled back; her eyes still closed as Mattheo started trailing kisses down her neck. The boy gently pushed her back so she would hit his soft mattress and give him better access to all of her.

Mattheo hovered over her as he connected their lips again. It was clear to Y/N that he needed her in a way that he hadn’t had her for two years. She would be lying if she said she didn’t want him like that as well. During their make out session, she helped him slide his blazer off and untie his tie. She had quickly gotten out of her clothes as well, making sure to be as problem free as possible.

“Good?” he asked carefully. Y/N knew what he was asking, because she knew that he sometimes didn’t get the right words out or he just wasn’t used to saying a couple words. No matter who he had been with, it had been consentful, but he always made sure before they removed the clothes. “Are you sure?” He corrected knowing that being with Y/N made him want to get over what he thought was weakness and showing emotion.

“Yes.” She nodded, being the green light for him to go further. Which was exactly what he was waiting for.

The aftercare had been just as great as the sex, at least to Y/N. She had fallen asleep laying on Mattheo’s bare chest, the sheet and blanket keeping them covered if anyone would dare to enter the boy’s dormitory. Mattheo was awake, smoking a cigarette because he didn’t want to wake her up from her slumber. He had kicked the habit of smoking in the dorm, but he was desperate, and he had waited until Y/N fell asleep because he didn’t want to leave right after.

Y/N had fallen asleep talking to the boy after that had done their activities and he was gently running his hand along her bare back. After taking his last puff of his cigarette, he used his old tray to squish it and quit the burning. He blew out the last of the smoke just as the dorm room door burst open. A Theodore that looked like a kicked puppy entered the room followed by Sean.

“You lose them how you gain them.” Sean told Theo not noticing the couple in bed yet. Theo went to reply to his friend but stopped when he noticed Mattheo’s bed was occupied. Sean followed his line of sight only to quickly cover his eyes even though nothing was exposed. “I’m out.” Sean muttered before turning and exiting the room. “Better not knock her up, riddle.” He joked on his way-out causing Mattheo to roll his eyes.

Theo avoided eye contact, but his eyes were raking over the parts of Y/N’s bare back that was exposed. The riddle boy was growing annoyed having his friends eye wonder over his girl’s body. He had finally gotten her after Theo screwed up and he wasn’t letting her go.

“Can I help you with something?” Mattheo asked in an annoyed tone. He tightened his arm around his girl that was laying on his chest. “I would appreciate it if you stopped loo- “

“Do you love her?” Theodore asked, moving his eyes to meet the one who used to be his best friend before he treated his ex-girlfriend like shit and pushed her into the arms of his best friend.

“That’s between us.” Mattheo stated his anger starting to show.

Theodore shook his head, “If you don’t love her, let her go.” He told the riddle boy knowing, well, thinking that he couldn’t love someone. “I know you like her, but if you can’t love her then she deserves someone who can.” The friend and ex knew that he was pushing boundaries, but he didn’t care.

Mattheo scoffed, “someone like you?” he grumbled.

Theodore shook his head, “No. I couldn’t love her the right way either.” He admitted watching the way Y/N’s breathing was smooth, showing sure signs that she was asleep. “We both know the life that’s coming for us in a few months and she’s the only one I know from a family like ours that has a heart like hers.”

Mattheo couldn’t argue with that, considering her family were purebloods, Slytherins, and death eaters, she had the heart of someone like the Weasleys. She wanted to see the good in many people, but she kept to herself. It was a no brainer as to why the sorting hat chose Gryffindor because she was the farthest thing from her family. She was what they would consider an outcast because she wasn’t like them and didn’t have the wants and desires of her family.

“I do.” Mattheo sighed looking at the boy who he had hated the past couple of months. “I do feel like that towards her, and I just can’t bring myself to say it.”

“It’s because we’ve never fully felt it that way before.”

Once Theodore had left, Mattheo had sat in his thoughts. He knew that his friend made a good point, but he could say that he did in fact love the girl who was stirring in his arms. He did, every time he went to say it nothing came out or it was like his mouth wouldn’t move. Maybe because he had been told growing up that love was a sign of weakness and that Slytherin’s, especially Tom Riddle’s son, does not show emotion.

Whatever the case may be, the boy was knocked out of his thoughts by a low groan, “Why did you let me sleep?” A groggy Y/N mumbled when she woke up. She let out a big yawn before moving her head up to look at Mattheo’s gaze, “I should have studied after.” She mumbled relaxing again at the action of Mattheo running his hand along her back.

“Don’t worry yourself studying so much.” He muttered gently making sure to keep her comfortable. “You’re the smartest girl I know.”

“That’s Hermione.” Y/N argued in a tired voice.

Mattheo didn’t say anything, but he disagreed with her. She was by far the smartest girl that he knew and had he not been who he was, they could have been prefects together with how they acted. The fact that she was in the situation that she was in broke his heart, because he knew that it was his father’s fault. “What was your life like… before you were sorted?” He wanted to know if her parents had always favored Sean or if it was just because their daughter was in Gryffindor.

She sighed, “Not as bad. My parents thought that their kids would be following in their footsteps and when word got around that I was in Gryffindor, they acted colder towards me. My mom told me that I should be glad they have a reason to keep me around because I was an embarrassment to the family name.” She mumbled, her fingers drawing shapes on her boyfriend’s chest to manage her anxiety.

“Hey,” He stopped her hand gently knowing it was an anxiety tick. “No matter what happens we’ll be the last ones standing, together.” He promised. He had no authority to promise that, but he would make it his mission to make sure they were okay no matter what his father’s army did. No matter what they go home too and must turn into.

“I hope you’re right.”

*Not edited!*

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