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HIT ME UP — uchinaga aeri
aeri’s never had much luck with love. countless blind dates, dating apps, mutual friends, nothing came out of those. but wait, who is that girl in her best friend’s instagram and why is she so pretty?
tags fluff, no angst, non-idol au, open your eyes to see jiminjeong, mutual pining (for literally a sec), cursing, aeri pov centric
wordcount 6.0k
🎙️ author’s note: happy aeri day! lots of love to our favourite hot girl gigi 🤍 can’t express how much i love aeri and her contribution to aespa as a member >< i hope that everyone enjoys reading this fic and for aeri to enjoy her birthday!
uchinaga aeri, half-japanese and half-korean, age twenty three, has never dated anyone before in her life. well, not officially. she doesn’t really count the situationships or talking stages she’s had. aeri would say that the lack of love in her life would be due to her bougie choices in character. her taste is just a little more refined, detailed, specialised, whatever you want to call it. jimin calls it picky while yizhuo applauds her for knowing what she wants in a partner.
something that definitely attracted her would be a strong personality, a little bold and courageous but also sweet and caring. isn’t that a nice criteria to have? aeri doesn’t think she’s asking for much here. yet, her simple standards seem a reach too far compared to the personalities she’s met lately. even jimin can’t help but wince at the blind dates aeri has gone on.
because aeri loves everyone, as long as they’re pretty, she’s been on dates with many, regardless of gender. and well, she can’t really say that one outweighs the other. this one guy she met at the gym had told her she needed more tips on weightlifting and had gone into a rant about protein shakes.
needless to say, as much as she loves the gym, aeri could not really stand an hour long conversation about protein shakes of all things.
and that girl who seemed way more interested in the oat milk in aeri’s latte than her. that was a strange date. aeri scrunches her nose in distaste at the reminder. another date she’d been on, helpfully supplied by yizhuo, the girl was gorgeous and incredibly sweet. but the moment aeri had said she was a scorpio, her date started acting like aeri killed her dog. which, by the way, she never would. she loves dogs and even has two cute ones herself! and then her date had the nerve to storm out of the restaurant too. what a shitshow.
(“oh… maybe i shouldn’t be friends with her either,” yizhuo comments after aeri recites the incident to her.
“do you think she’ll burst into flames if you tell her you’re a scorpio as well?” jimin asks, so genuinely that aeri almost chokes to death while laughing.)
anyway, so what if aeri’s luck with dating is trash? her life has been fine for twenty three years and it’s not like having a partner will drastically change her for the good. she’s been enjoying this single life. she never has to update anyone about her whereabouts, she doesn’t have to reply to texts immediately, everything she buys is for herself. what a wonderful life. some call it miserable, others call it unhealthy. she calls it being free.
okay, maybe it is a little sad coming home to an empty apartment with no one to greet her. aeri does feel envious when her friends meet up and they talk about their own significant others. but that envy isn’t enough for her to throw herself down into that torturous rabbit hole of dating again. if only she had a friend that she could fall in love with or something. like a cute friends to lovers situation. or if she tripped and fell over the love of her life. the stars aligned, ‘we’re soulmates’ type.
not to mention that ever since moving back to korea from the states, her parents have been pressuring her to find someone. while korea and japan aren’t aeons apart, aeri doesn’t really have the comfort of family. her friends do offer some semblance of home but it just doesn’t feel the same. after confiding in her mother, aeri was told that a partner would fill in the gap her parents left.
she’s getting a little delirious and the idea of falling in love has become more of a chore than blessing. aeri slumps against her bedframe, scowling at her phone blowing up. if she were still on a dating app, the notifications could be due to matches or dates that were too clingy. but she’s sworn off dating apps for good and that chain of messages could only be sent by yu jimin.
jimin [6.19pm]:
omg guys
i think i just met the loml
holy shit shes so cute
im in love
can sm1 find her @
yizhuo [6.20pm]:
who
jimin [6.20pm]:
uhmmmmm
minjeong?
her cup says that
yizhuo [6.20pm]:
are you serious 😐
jimin [6.21pm]:
STOP SHES LOOKING AT ME
AAAAAAA
aeri [6.22pm]:
girl shut up
she throws her phone aside as jimin’s cries for help go unanswered. jimin breaking down would be cute if aeri wasn’t going through an existential crisis right now. the thought of never finding someone truly for her looms over her head. her whole ‘i don’t need a man’ (or woman) persona crumbles instantly the moment she reaches her bedroom. the facade falls immediately, only leaving behind a lonely girl who just has bad luck.
jimin continues to flounder around and seemingly the pings stop (aeri lets out a sigh of relief), before they come back in full force in the form of a video call.
aeri reaches for her phone and waits a few seconds just to torture jimin before picking up.
“uhm, hello?”
“oh my goodness— what is wrong with you two? have you not read my messages!” jimin whispers harshly. a grainy, pixelated version of her friend appears on screen. the only recognisable feature of jimin is her pale, glowy skin shining in the moonlight as her dark hair wisps around behind her.
staring blankly, aeri repeats, “hello?”
“hi, yes! okay, so i just met this girl and—”
yizhuo’s voice cuts through, “does it really count as meeting her though?”
aeri sees jimin rolling her eyes before she reluctantly pouts, “no, but that’s not the point. the point is that she’s really cute, like marriage-worthy cute. and i need her instagram now.”
“you think we can find it?” yizhuo asks, unamused.
“well, she was wearing our old high school jacket and you guys know a lot of people!” jimin’s logic, sometimes flawed, did make sense to aeri this time. she and yizhuo were like social butterflies back in high school and jimin’s assumption would be right.
“what was her name again?” aeri asks, just to get jimin to shut up. for a girl that was so elegant and graceful, jimin really was a loser sometimes. it was difficult at first to adjust from the girl crush jimin to the loser jimin but after being friends for so long, aeri has learnt to accept both sides of her personality.
jimin perks up, her forehead gleaming on the screen, “minjeong! isn’t it such a cute name? cute name for a cute girl… heh. she looked like a puppy too, like a tint maltese. she has short blonde hair too. almost shoulder length?”
aeri isn’t too sure on how the description of her looking like a maltese helps in their investigation but whatever floats jimin’s boat, she guesses. she watches as yizhuo disappears from the frame and jimin walks home, humming to herself.
a few minutes later, while she and jimin are discussing new hair colours, yizhuo pops back into frame, exclaiming with glee, “i found her!”
and aeri can only watch as jimin trips over air, almost in slow motion, and face plants into the ground.
“c’mon, ningie! please!” aeri widens her eyes while jimin almost gets on her knees, her hands pleading. who knew jimin would get so desperate for some girl’s instagram? definitely not aeri.
yizhuo only huffs, “i want something in return.”
“anything! really!” the older girl is so close to downright begging that aeri considers stepping in for a second before yizhuo inevitably reads out loud, “mj underscore zero one zero one and i want free lunch for the rest of the week. aeri unnie included.”
aeri grins brightly as jimin scrambles to type the username into her search bar. she fist bumps yizhuo, smiling at the thought of free food.
“oh my gosh, thank you!” jimin squeals, planting a wet kiss on yizhuo’s cheek.
“how’d you find her instagram?” aeri asks curiously. yizhuo shrugs, wiping the lipstick mark left behind coolly, “my friend follows her. asked around for a bit and now people think she owes me money or something.”
aeri stifles a giggle at that and turns her attention back to jimin, who’s still staring at her phone in awe. her fingers are fervently scrolling and swiping, tapping away on the screen. jimin’s devotion to find this mystery girl’s instagram is insane and it brings out the slightest bit of curiosity in aeri.
hence, she peeks over jimin’s shoulder and for her lacklustre description of minjeong, it’s well-fitting, surprisingly.
“she does look like a maltese,” are aeri’s first words. jimin swerves her head back, smiling widely, “i know right!”
“oh, she’s really cute,” aeri notes. minjeong is pretty, like a doll. jimin sends her a withering glare but she just ignores it. the girl is pretty, but not her type. and she definitely isn’t planning on competing in some competition for minjeong’s love alongside her own best friend.
“she’s friends with a lot of unnies,” yizhuo says, listing them off her fingers, “nayeon unnie, jeongyeon unnie, momo unnie— well, that whole friend group. jennie unnie too. and you know mijoo unnie? she’s friends with her too.”
jimin visibly deflates while aeri tries to cheer her up, “but they’re all friends only though, right?”
yizhuo nods, “yup, i haven’t heard of minjeong ever dating anyone either.”
her comment resonates with aeri and a small part of her commends minjeong for not succumbing to the horrors of dating.
with aeri’s words of encouragement, jimin continues to scroll, albeit slower now and not as enthusiastic. she eventually reaches the end of all of minjeong’s posts and hastily scrolls back up.
“check her highlights too,” aeri demands, terribly invested. jimin follows suit, clicking on the first story highlight. it’s full of food that has aeri salivating and jimin swallowing her saliva. yizhuo only watches on, uninterested.
then, jimin clicks on one that’s named ‘solos’ and aeri hears her choke up. the highlight is filled with selfies and photos of minjeong. all very cute and adorable. she internally rolls her eyes and begs jimin to hurry through the stories instead of staring intently at each one. minjeong’s feed is nice, aeri thinks. it’s clean and simple but it still shows enough of her personality.
when jimin finally swipes to the last highlight, aeri’s jaw visibly drops.
“oh my god,” she gapes, snatching jimin’s phone away into her own hands, “who is that?”
“hey! give it back!”
“stop it!” aeri swats jimin’s hand away and with miraculous strength, evades all of her reaches and manages to zoom into the story. minjeong, her face propped up by her palm, and next to her, aeri believes is aphrodite reincarnated. bright doe eyes, pouty lips— oh, aeri might be in love.
she was about to discover if it was possible to lose her voice solely from screaming inside her head.
“oh shit, do you think that’s her girlfriend?” jimin gasps as soon as she sees the story as well and the fight for her phone goes forgotten. they both stare in bewilderment at the photo.
yizhuo eventually pries their fingers off jimin’s phone, sneering, “close your mouth, both of you. she’s y/n.”
aeri jumps into action at her words, “you know this girl? who is she? what’s her name?”
“calm down, damn.”
“sorry— this is the literal love of my life?”
jimin frowns, “that’s what i said about minjeong and you called me deluded.”
ignoring jimin.
“i don’t know her, i know of her,” yizhuo rolls her eyes again. aeri purses her lips at the brattiness of the youngest. since when was their baby so sassy? maybe jimin was too irritating. aeri would understand if that were the case.
“just stalk her account. minjeong definitely tagged her somewhere or she’s in the comments,” jimin suggests.
aeri hollers, “you’re a genius!” it’s her first time saying that to jimin.
through sheer determination and will (yizhuo calls it stupidity), she manages to find minjeong replying to a certain commenter.
mj_0101 been away
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1eeyn i see how it is.. no creds at all
↳ mj_0101 photo creds to my bae
“bae?! jimin— oh my fucking god!” aeri screeches and thank god they’re in jimin’s room and not in public. yizhuo has the gall to cover her ears even though aeri’s been on the receiving end of her dolphin shrieks before.
equally distressed, jimin lets out a choked sob, “of course the pretty girls are dating!”
“guys, i just said they’re only friends.”
“and how do you know that?!”
yizhuo shoots a glare and jimin immediately cowers beside aeri.
“because i know them, duh. y’all are stupid. the moment you two see pretty girls it’s like your ability to think disappears.”
well that, aeri can’t disagree. her brain had no thoughts when she first saw minjeong’s story. just sunshine and rainbows. maybe the distant chiming of wedding bells. or a white, sparkly dress with a long train.
as she gets lost in her thoughts, jimin pries her fingers away from the phone, detaching them carefully. when aeri frowns at her action, the older one merely shrugs, “stalk her on your own phone.”
begrudgingly, she does so, searching up this mystery girl’s instagram. it’s pretty empty, mostly just pictures of nature and food. sometimes she throws in a selfie that makes aeri’s heart clench.
“fuck,” she groans, feeling her throat choke up, “she’s so my type.”
jimin nods in agreement even though aeri’s sure she didn’t hear a word she said. yizhuo rolls her eyes (how many times has she done that?).
“you think she’s into girls?” aeri asks, showing yizhuo a story highlight of some vinyls with clairo’s one right at the front.
“maybe. i don’t know her too well. i heard she’s kind of scary though, like cold and intimidating. she punched someone for picking on minjeong once.”
aeri lets out a huff, one of sheer amazement. lord knows she needs a woman who can fight.
“aeri-ah,” jimin suddenly calls out from her bed.
“yes?”
she gulps, swallowing harshly, “if you text her, i’ll text minjeong.”
yizhuo hums, “you two do that.”
she mulls it over. texting this pretty girl? who’s insanely her type? maybe. what if you were an asshole though? she’s not too sure about whether minjeong would be friends with you if you were mean but she thinks back to your face.
god, she needs you biblically.
“okay, let’s get girlfriends!”
she doesn’t text you at all. it’s a little embarrassing to admit but aeri’s scared! what if she just gets ignored? she couldn’t get her ego bruised like that. and jimin’s no help either! constantly texting her to dm you first even though aeri knows that jimin stares at the empty private chat with minjeong every night.
what she does do is first of all, create another account that’s completely blank, void of any recognition for aeri. then she watches your stories. on repeat. and on one uneventful tuesday, your profile lights up with a ring around it. aeri can’t help herself from viewing it immediately.
and maybe she shouldn’t have, since she’s seething by the time yizhuo texts her.
yizhuo [1.43pm]:
hey guys…
has any1 seen y/n’s story?
jimin [1.44pm]:
minjeong’s account is burned into my screen
but no ☺️
aeri [1.44pm]:
i’m gonna kill myself
jimin [1.46pm]:
😨⁉️
she almost actually throws her phone this time. aeri wants to die. she wants to puke.
what the actual fuck.
her phone rings— she picks up on the first ring.
“so…” yizhuo starts awkwardly.
“what’s going on?! aeri, don’t kill yourself?! you’re my best friend and i might also die without you! i love you, aeri—”
aeri cries out, “she has a girlfriend!”
the other side of the phone goes eerily quiet before jimin’s forehead pops up on screen and her eyebrows are nearly touching her hairline.
“WHAT?!”
“she just posted a photo of her kissing some girl’s cheek!” aeri screeches.
yizhuo winces before adding unhelpfully, “her girlfriend’s pretty though.”
“not the point— also yeah, agreed. but still! what am i gonna do now?!”
jimin frowns, “you can still be friends with her, right?”
“well… i was going to try to hit her up first,” aeri pouts, feeling devastated. she hadn’t even gotten a chance to woo you, and no way was she going to get in the way of a happy relationship! aeri was many things, but she wasn’t a homewrecker.
“maybe you can salvage a friendship out of this,” yizhuo suggests thoughtfully. aeri nods. maybe she should at least try to be friends rather than pursue a romantic relationship. she needed to expand her social circle anyway from just jimin and yizhuo.
“jimin, this means you have to text minjeong now.”
“what?! i’m not ready!”
“it’s just a text! like her story or something!”
jimin stares at her through the screen, affronted. aeri connects the dots quickly enough, “wait, don’t tell me you have been liking all her stories?”
“okay, maybe i have! that’s not a crime. and she liked one of my stories back! the one i posted when we went to eat hotpot! i’m way farther in this than you are—”
aeri hangs up. she can’t deal with a gloating jimin right now.
she needs a clear mind. she needs to think about her next course of action. all that was occupying her mind during the past few days was a wedding with you, but now aeri has a few adjustments to make.
swiping back to your story, aeri frowns. she clicks to the previous one. it’s a photo of you playing with a dog, an adorable samoyed. the background has a few other dogs, so you were probably at a dog cafe.
with your girlfriend, aeri sighs.
she types out, ‘omg where is this?’ it feels friendly and innocent enough. and aeri totally knows which dog cafe you’re at. it’s a rather popular one that she has visited herself.
before aeri can even think again, she sends the message.
god, she should really stop letting jimin get to her head.
within seconds, there’s a reply that makes aeri’s heart soar.
[aerichandesu] 1eeyn
it’s winters village in hongdae!
you’re really pretty btw
score! aeri’s got this in the bag!
she enters the chat and replies with a speed that makes the flash quiver.
aerichandesu [2.10pm]:
omg thankuu 💗
you’re super cute too
you don’t reply but aeri spots the tiny green circle next to your name. you’re online. but why aren’t you replying? was there nothing to reply to? aeri feels her heart sink a little lower. the chat doesn’t pop up with another message and aeri throws her phone aside.
she can’t let a girl plague her mind! aeri’s better than this! puffing her chest out, aeri gathers all the grit and willpower she has in herself and leaves the app.
aeri continues this pattern for the next few days; every time you posted a story, she would slide up. it only started to feel a bit one-sided when you started replying with short and curt responses. maybe you got weirded out by aeri, and she wouldn’t even blame you. sometimes she would send messages at midnight and wake up in the morning, cursing the vulnerability she had previously. she would read back at the chat, cringing at her overeager attitude. even jimin called her out on it! and if even jimin found it weird, aeri must have seemed absolutely psychotic.
“girl, i think you have to stop,” yizhuo says one day.
“stop with what?” aeri asks but she knows damn well what yizhuo’s talking about. jimin’s head perks up, her cheeks stuffed with ramen that aeri so graciously cooked for her when the older had complained about her hunger.
after swallowing, jimin giggles, “your little thing with your girl.”
“uhm, what?”
“i think you’re creeping her out,” yizhuo shakes her head, “if i had this stranger, no matter how cute they are, constantly texting me first, i would be a little scared.”
aeri pouts, feeling admonished, “i haven’t texted her in two days. she isn’t interested.”
“oh thank goodness,” the chinese girl sighs in relief, “i thought you went all joe goldberg on her.”
“i’m not joe! and i would never do that to someone!”
“well, i was worried anyway.”
jimin nudges her shoulder, “there’s a lot of fish in the ocean, right?”
rolling her eyes, aeri pinches at jimin’s side, “imagine if i said that about minjeong.”
“why would you ever say that about minjeong?” jimin furrows her brows, “and i actually texted her.”
aeri shoots up, the thought of her disastrous love life long forgotten as jimin reveals this new information.
“you did?! holy shit, congrats dude!”
jimin looks away, sheepish, “i replied to her story and she said that she remembers me from school. i don’t know how i missed seeing someone like her around. she said she really likes bowling, so i’m thinking of bringing her to bowl.”
genuinely happy for her friend, aeri pats her on the back while yizhuo gives a pleased nod. aeri kind of wishes her endeavour with you could go this smoothly. she certainly doesn’t remember you from school, nor does it seem you remember her. maybe you just weren’t in the same classes.
“guess it’s just me now, huh?” aeri laughs, despite the slight embarrassment she feels from being ignored.
jimin pouts, “you’ll find someone better.”
aeri thinks of the way her heart flutters when you reply or post something new, and she thinks that she’s never felt this strongly attracted to someone before without even knowing them.
yeah, she doesn’t think she will.
aeri’s totally fine. she’s gone two weeks without even glancing at your profile and she’s okay. there were some withdrawal symptoms at first, like the increasing urge to reply to your story or like it, but aeri’s determination outweighs her adoration. thus, she lives life without ever thinking about you again.
(that was a lie. she still wonders about it at night.)
yizhuo had applauded her ‘getting over’ you and so had jimin, who was barely online nowadays because she was hanging out with minjeong. aeri’s glad her best friend has found someone she likes. and she’s over the moon that jimin has found a new victim for her teasing. apparently, minjeong had better reactions, so yizhuo and aeri cheered knowing minjeong would suffer now.
jimin had been bugging them to finally meet minjeong and hang out as a group for the longest time. aeri doesn’t know if she actually brought her to that bowling date but the restaurant they picked out is expensive and jimin’s paying. so naturally, she agrees instantly.
what jimin doesn’t say is that minjeong would be bringing someone along.
coincidentally, you.
hence, aeri’s sitting right across from you, not daring to lift her head up in fear that she might make eye contact. after acting so desperate in your dms, aeri would rather die than face you directly.
you stare at her bizarrely as minjeong introduces you to jimin’s friends.
“this is yizhuo and aeri, we all went to the same high school together,” minjeong informs you, “but i don’t think we ever crossed paths before.”
“no, we haven’t,” you confirm. aeri glances at you meekly before darting her gaze to the menu.
“nice to meet you, y/n,” yizhuo smiles sweetly, making up for the silence that aeri provided. you’re still a little confused as to why aeri wasn’t talking right now.
maybe she thinks you don’t recognise her? but you do. she’s the pretty girl that randomly popped up one day and started replying to your stories.
“nice to meet you too,” you grin, “nice to see you in person as well, aeri-ssi.”
you watch, surprised, as aeri barely acknowledges your words, only nodding slightly. wasn’t she quite bold online? why was she acting like this now?
“shall we order?” jimin asks, snapping the menu shut. after calling over the waiter, you shift your eyes back to aeri, staring appreciatively at her outfit. one thing you noticed from her instagram feed was that she dressed well. you wanted to ask her where she shops but she seemed a second away from exploding.
you whip out your phone, earning a flinch from aeri.
y/n bae [7.24pm]:
is smth wrong w aeri?
mindoongie [7.24pm]:
uhmm idk 😓
idt she’s usually like this
jiminie said she’s quite sociable
awesome. so that meant you were the problem.
resting your head on your palm, you turn your attention to yizhuo, asking, “what are you currently studying?”
“oh, i’m doing fashion design,” she answers, twirling the knife.
“that’s interesting. could you ever design something for me one day?”
yizhuo chuckles, “i’ll cast you as my model if i get big. what about you?”
“i’ll definitely pursue something in modelling but i’m studying medicine right now.”
engrossed in your conversation, you barely notice aeri’s pout. the girl seemed a little too timid and shy as to what you’ve seen online. and minjeong and jimin seemed to be talking about something else.
“y/n, are you dating anyone right now?” yizhuo asks suddenly. you falter, recalling the girl you had just broken up with a few days ago, “ah, no. not currently.”
in your haste to recover, you miss the nudge yizhuo gives go aeri.
spurred on, aeri asks, “do you have time to date while studying?”
“hm, it was manageable,” you reply, “it got tiring when she needed a lot of my time though.”
aeri stares at you wistfully before coughing.
you wonder why she asked that.
[aerichandesu] 1eeyn
hi, can u help me say thanku to jimin?
for taking care of my best friend
aeri blinks at the message. it’s the first time you’ve texted her first.
aerichandesu [10.43pm]:
sure
she still feels awkward for acting so desperate previously. it doesn’t feel right to act like that anymore. and aeri does feel a little bad for how cold she was during dinner.
1eeyn [10.44pm]:
thank u aeri chan
aeri-chan? where did that come from? suddenly, she feels the stutter in her heart resurfacing after she had tried to bury it.
1eeyn [10.45pm]:
we didn’t get to talk much, huh?
aerichandesu [10.45pm]:
no sorry
i wasn’t feeling well
it feels like the safest lie she can tell.
1eeyn [10.46pm]:
that’s a shame
are you feeling better now?
aerichandesu [10.46pm]
yes, i am
1eeyn [10.46pm]:
that’s good
rest well aeri-chan 💗
oh my god, aeri needs to text the group chat!
over the next few days, you were relentless with your texts. it felt like you and aeri had swapped roles. she didn’t know to adapt to this new side of you without seeming like a bumbling fool. you would send selfies! selfies! asking aeri for her opinion. the first time you sent one, aeri’s nose started bleeding and she scared jimin half to death, thinking aeri was dying.
(“she sent me a selfie! of her face!” aeri wails, covering her nose with bloody tissues.
jimin grimaces at the blood, “well, yes. selfies are usually of someone’s face.”)
then, you would send your outfits, or whatever you ate that day. slowly, aeri started warming up to you too and would begin to send her own photos. normally she would send photos of her dogs or jimin and yizhuo being silly. then they evolved into selfies.
aeri likes what she has with you right now. you were building up a friendship that aeri appreciated. she liked your humour and personality as well, complementing her own rather nicely. minjeong and jimin begin dating as well, making your proximity even closer as the two would constantly drag everyone to hangouts. to be frank, aeri can’t believe that this all started because jimin saw a cute girl at a cafe, but somehow, it makes sense too.
how an insignificant moment such as minjeong deciding to buy coffee that day helped aeri gain two new best friends, she would never know. but she liked it. it felt like fate. leaning on your shoulder, aeri shoves a handful of popcorn into her mouth.
“no scary movies please,” jimin begs, tugging at minjeong’s shirt. yizhuo laughs and eggs minjeong on to pick a horror film while aeri stares at her best friends affectionately.
“you like scary movies?” you whisper to aeri.
she shakes her head, already feeling shivers run down her spine at the thought of being jumpscared countless times. jimin’s reaction would be funny as hell. but no way was she sacrificing her own sanity for something like that. if she wanted jimin to go insane, she had ten other ways to do that.
“nooo not the conjuring please!”
aeri cowers into herself, dreading the night already. this was a weekly occurrence, having a movie night at jimin’s apartment. it started with just the three of them and then minjeong and you got invited soon after. the honour of picking a movie was passed down every week and aeri detests it when it’s minjeong’s turn. that girl would pick scary films just to annoy jimin and aeri always gets caught in the crossfire somehow.
“don’t worry, minjeongie wants to watch despicable me tonight. she’s just playing with jimin,” you comfort. aeri nods as minjeong hovers exceptionally long on the nun before finally moving to despicable me. jimin cheers in exhilaration and yizhuo boos.
“oh my gosh, babe! i love the minions!”
“minions and despicable me are two different movies!” yizhuo sneers. just as the movie starts, jimin, minjeong and yizhuo begin bickering. aeri knows how the argument will end— with jimin apologising and minjeong and yizhuo emerging victorious.
a gush of hot air beside her ear makes her jump, “they’re cute, aren’t they?”
aeri follows your gaze to where jimin and minjeong’s fingers are interwoven even though they’re arguing.
“yeah, silly but cute.”
you chuckle, slipping your hand into aeri’s under the blanket, “we can’t lose to them, right?”
she gets caught off guard for just a second before bouncing back.
“no, i’ll never lose to jimin.”
your laugh makes aeri’s cheeks heat up slightly. as you ramble on about the movie, she listens to every word attentively, wanting to savour the smoothness and richness of your voice. her smaller hand stays tight in your bigger one, feeling the warmth emitting from your palm.
aeri’s heart feels content.
she’s happy here, being friends with you.
unfortunately (or fortunately), the friendship doesn’t last for long.
after that particular movie night, aeri has noticed a change in your behaviour. you’ve become touchier, for lack of a better term. more lingering touches around her shoulder, hands, waist, wrists, wherever her skin was. you would gaze into her eyes before smiling shyly and looking away. you would offer to bring her lunch even though she knows you’re busy with your internship. not to mention the influx of messages. if aeri thought your selfies were bad for her heart before, it resembled a tsunami drowning her heart now.
photos, of every kind, most of them in your scrubs and uniform, smiling at the camera gleefully, as if you weren’t working an all-nighter. and on your off-days, aeri finds you staying up to talk to her. she’s busy during the day, so she doesn’t really check her phone often. when she finally does, she’s welcomed by your chat. the once intimidating girl that she admired online had turned into the girl that camped in her dms.
she had asked before, why you would text her so much. your response had been equally confusing, asking her back if she wanted you to stop. of course not. the aeri a few months ago wished for days that you would reply with more than four words. now, it seemed like you constantly had paragraphs of stories to tell her. not that she was complaining.
then, one day, the messages stop. aeri’s a little bewildered when she checks her phone and nothing’s there but she goes to bed anyway. maybe you were working a really long shift? sometimes she would catch you at four in the morning, so perhaps you were catching up on some much needed sleep.
but when she wakes up the next day, there’s only a lone message asking for her to meet you.
aeri agrees, yet she can’t help but wonder about the spontaneous nature of the message. it was sent in the morning, so it seemed like you had been thinking about it all night.
after dressing herself, she left her apartment, nervous but excited at the prospect of seeing you again. the last time you met face to face was over a week ago and aeri’s suffering from y/n drought.
you had requested to meet at lunchtime and when aeri arrives at the restaurant, you’re already there, seated and deep in thought.
“hey,” she greets, “slept well?”
you didn’t, but you nod anyway.
“did you have a shift yesterday?” aeri asks as you order your regulars.
“uhm, no. sorry i didn’t text you, i was busy doing something else.”
“nah, it’s fine. i was helping ning with her designs anyway.”
you nod stiffly and aeri reaches out a hand to cover yours, “are you good? you seem a little off.”
“i’m fine!” your voice comes out squeakier than usual but aeri brushes it off.
“so, what’s up?” she finally asks.
you tap your fingernails on the table, gulping harshly, “i just wanted to talk.”
“mhm, sure.”
“i wanted to know… well… uhm, if you were still interested in me,” you ask, eyes flickering to aeri hesitantly. aeri gapes at you before stammering, “wh-why? what— what do you mean?”
you inhale sharply, “i know you were interested in me at the start, but are you still interested now?”
aeri withdraws her hand, “uh, why?”
furrowing your eyebrows, you grit your teeth, “please just tell me.”
“uhm. well… yes? but why—”
“because i’m interested. and i want to find out if the feeling’s the same,” you blurt out. aeri’s eyes widen considerably and if your heart wasn’t racing a mile, you would coo at her cuteness.
“if you were interested before… why didn’t you say anything?” aeri asks, her voice trailing off at the end. you sigh, pinching your nose bridge, “i was dating someone at the time. it wasn’t right for me to encourage someone who liked me that much.”
aeri nods, already feeling guilty for her desperation before.
“i’m sorry for my coldness but i could already tell you were interested in me and as someone who had a girlfriend then, i couldn’t message back with the same eagerness,” you explain.
“no, it’s fine. that was a stupid question but uhm, i thought you didn’t like me back.”
“we became friends first, then i started to have feelings for you. as i learnt more about you, i started to like you more.”
aeri feels a little silly with her immediate infatuation. huh. maybe she got her ‘friends to lovers’ trope after all.
“i hope that now, i can take you on a date?” you ask and how can aeri refuse that? your bright, gleaming, expectant eyes? aeri felt her heart crushed with adoration.
“yes, obviously. you’re my ideal type and everything. you know i had thoughts about our wedding when i first met you—”
“oh, is that why you were so quiet that night?”
“yeah, you just looked really pretty under the lighting and i already started to imagine how you would look like dressed in all white and how our wedding would seem, maybe i would pick yizhuo as my maid of honour and minjeong could be yours but jimin would totally throw a fuss and—”
you smile widely as aeri babbles on, chiming in every once in a while to insert your own thoughts.
when she finally finishes, the expression on your face makes her whole being ascend.
maybe all those useless blind dates with shitty luck amounted to her finding the love of her life.
thank you! aeri would later exclaim to that horoscope-obsessed girl and the gym rat. who knew that those catastrophic dates would finally gift her you, her first girlfriend (and last!).
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guess who just spent 15 minutes of their lifetime transcribing a 4 minute clip of pearl rambling about life series on stream (29/10/2024)
anyway i can’t upload the video (too long) here’s the transcript anyway (also long)
Pearl: Um, alrighty. By the way, I wanna— I’m, I’m curious, I wanna know, okay, it— when it came to… Secret Life, why did people think I— I betrayed Gem completely? Wouldn’t me teaming with Gem have betrayed Scar? I wanna know where all this, like, super [word that i can’t place for the life of me. solar???] “Pearl betrayed Gem” came from. (laughs)
I understand, I killed her at the end. And we teamed up for a moment. But Scar was on our side and not trying to kill my allies. That was my team from the beginning. Gem, was always trying to kill ‘em. So how… how is that not a betrayal in any… like it kinda has to be quote unquote betrayal, but technically Scar was allied with me more? (laughs)
“Scar was distinctly not on anyone’s side” Did anyone watch my finale? ‘Cause, he was teamed up with us. Gem was trying to kill us in that last episode. So, logically, I would fight with the person who’s not trying to kill my team. [Freudian slip]
So I just wanna know, how did I do the betraying in that instance? (laughs) “From her POV it was a betrayal” Ahh, it’s a belief system, huh? (laughs) But it’s funny. I like it. I was just curious what, uh, put the nail in the coffin for that belief. ‘Cause I’ve seen it come up a little bit lately, and apparently I’m the one that betrayed.
(laughs) I dunno about that one. Curious. Curious, curious, curious. (laughs) Technically, whichever way I’ve gone, I would’ve went— it would’ve been betraying somebody, right? If I’d turned around and killed Scar, I would’ve betrayed him, because he was allied with us at the end. And then killing Gem obviously, same. But, when it came to that, I actually let Scar— I think I hit her once. Otherwise it was Scar. I did one whack, and then I stood back and let him kind of rock and roll. And uh, make it— make it between those two. So it was an interesting finale, that one.
But, something that people have mentioned actually, is that, uhh, another thing was, with, uh, Cleo and Scott in Real Life.
All this talk of Pearlo betraying people, are we not gonna realise that people have betrayed me in the life series? With a split decision? I’m just sayin’. They ain’t innocent. (laughs) Just sayin’, I think— I think 5am Pearl had every right to do what I did. Throw in um, what is it, the fuel on the fire for this one?
Character arcs. It’s cool to see how people analyse them, so I’ve been seeing a little bit of that. Especially with the new, uh, “I don’t love you” line that I got last session. Love you Gem. Always will. Even when you say no. (laughs) Even if you don’t, I’ll still be there. It’s fine. (laughs)
“Do it for the plot, Pearl” Basically.
(clip ends)
#she’s so right for the SL thing people pretending scar won alone just because he said “how’d the guy with no friends win”#ever heard of an unreliable narrator guys. guys pearl was right there. guys#so funny when she realises it’s just what gem thinks and goes like ahh okay that makes sense but /why/#also so funny when she says i only hit her once. HELP. girl listen to yourself rn#cleo and scott. man. the way she switches between third and first person and seems to be talking about both DL and RL is very on-brand#also only a hardcore gempearl fan who stalked every tag after wl ep 2 could’ve jumped as hard as i did#when she pointed out the “i don’t love you” line. oh she definitely saw that one fanart#and then obviously the bit about gem. the dichotomy between this and whatever the subnautica clip was#please i’m gonna lose it they remind me of DL zombiewood
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A Sensual Silver Lining
Day 29: Sound kink — Rhysand x f!reader
Warnings: none, I guess? There's just a brief mention of p in v but that's it
Word count: 1.187
A/N: this is another one that I felt like I could scrap and rewrite but didn't have the time. But I actually like how it turned out (more or less). I also debated a lot about who to write this for, but I think that Rhys has the sexiest and most sensual voice out of them all, and I would 100% be soaked even if he was yapping about idk economics or something
You had always hated the Court of Nightmares. Not only was it unsettling and made you nervous, but you absolutely despised the way your mate had to behave when you were down there. You knew, of course, that it wasn’t the real him, that it was all a mask he put on to keep the Hewn City under control, but you still hated it.
But there was a bright side to everything. Even the Court of Nightmares.
Rhys lowered his voice so that it would sound cold and cruel, but there was something in the timbre he took on that reminded you so much of what you called his “bedroom voice”.
Which was why, despite the situation, it was hard not to squirm on his lap. His hand rested on your thigh, near the slit in your dress that revealed your leg, and his fingers traced idle circles on your bare skin while he conversed with Keir about some trade-related issues. His mouth was so close to your ear that you could almost feel his breath brush against it every time he spoke.
You did your best to keep a neutral expression and at least try to look like you were listening—though from Keir’s disdainful glances, you weren’t sure it was working.
But as soon as the Steward left, your head fell back on your mate’s shoulder and you slumped against his chest.
Rhys’s soft chuckle shot straight down to your core. “What is it, darling?” he murmured. His voice was back to his usual tone now. “Does trading turn you on, by chance?”
“Not normally,” you mumbled, nuzzling his neck.
He lifted an eyebrow. “But it does now?”
“It does when you use that voice.”
He paused for a moment. You had told him before that you loved his voice, and since then, he had made a point of being more vocal while you were having sex, praising you and talking you through it even more than he already used to do before. You had never told him just how far it could affect you, though.
“What voice?” he asked in your ear, and you shivered slightly as it went back to that deep tone of earlier. “This one?”
When you nodded, he hummed contemplatively and gods be damned, you felt the sound reverberate through your body all the way down to your toes. Your thighs clenched together, and Rhys marked the subtle movement, cocking his head with a smirk.
“This night just took an interesting turn, darling, don’t you think?” he purred as his hand slipped under your dress, just for a few inches before it halted on your inner thigh.
Your breath caught and you couldn’t stop the wetness that was starting to pool between your legs. He wasn’t even touching you, hadn’t even said a single word that might turn you on… but that quiet, sensual voice of his was enough for heat to bloom in your whole body.
A slight shift in the air told you that Rhys had put up an invisible shield around his throne, probably to mask the growing scent of your arousal.
“Now, now, my love,” he cooed teasingly, fingertips brushing against your soft skin. “We can’t let everyone know you get so wet just by hearing me talk, can we?”
“Rhys…” you whined. You were still trying to at least look as though nothing unusual was happening. People could turn their heads at any moment. “You’re not helping if you do that.”
“I’m not doing anything.”
“You’re talking.”
He laughed, soft and low. “Would you rather I stopped?”
Yes. You knew that was the right answer, given the circumstances. This was not the privacy of your home—this was the Court of Nightmares. You were already indulging yourself by being sprawled on your mate’s lap. You didn’t need him to get you all hot and bothered as well.
You opened your mouth to tell him, but Rhys moaned quietly in your ear, and you almost choked. It was the same sound he would make when you were riding him and his cock was buried deep inside you, except that now it was low enough for you alone to hear.
“What are you doing?” you hissed, sitting up straighter. Or at least you tried, because his arm slid around you to keep you against his chest.
“I know how much you hate this place.” His lips were on your neck, brushing feather-light kisses from your shoulder to your ear. “And I hate it too. But you love my voice, and I love to know you’ll be ready when I finally fuck you, once we get home.”
Gods, his sensual tone felt like a caress that traveled all the way down to your core and left goosebumps in its wake.
“And you have to moan to do that?” you replied, but your tone wasn’t as clipped as you intended and instead came out rather weakly.
“No, but it’s more fun this way.”
And so, the torture began. It lasted hours.
Rhys kept whispering softly to you, but only two or three times did he actually mention all the things he wanted to do to you once you were alone, all the different ways he wanted to take you. The rest of the time he talked about his plans and schedule for the next few days, or he made idle conversation as he normally would, but you were too lost hearing him purr to pay attention to the actual words. He didn’t seem to mind, and instead took the chance to let out a quiet moan just to get your focus back to him every time you zoned out, as if that didn’t have the exact opposite effect.
Whenever someone approached the dais—whether it was Keir, or some other member of the Hewn City that wished to speak with their High Lord—, he made sure your head rested on his shoulder, close enough for his breath to brush your ear. You didn’t even care what people might think of your fluttering eyes and your longing sighs.
His hand would sometimes caress your inner thigh, but without ever getting close to your now soaked underwear where you wanted him to touch you. Whenever you squirmed a bit too much, he gripped the soft flesh of thigh almost possessively. “Patience, love,” he purred. “Just a little longer, and then I’ll use my mouth for something other than talking.” It didn’t do much to help you sit still.
At long last, the guests gathered in front of the throne once more. Despite everything Rhys had murmured throughout the evening, you had never heard a more beautiful sound than when he announced, “You can all go now.”
People began turning to leave, and though court protocol required the High Lord to stay until all his subjects were out of the room, Rhys didn’t wait. He immediately winnowed you out of the Hewn City and straight into your bedroom.
“Get on the bed, darling,” he ordered, but still with that low timbre that made you shiver. “It’s time to fuck you properly.”
General taglist: @mrsjna @navyblue-eternity @paintedbyshadows @highladyandromeda @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @azrielsmate3 @mollygetssherlockcoffee @mirandasidefics @tinystarfishgalaxy @cynthiesjmxazrielslover @anarchiii @readinggeeklmao @anneas11 @azrielslittleslut @lilah-asteria @aaahhh0127 @lorosette @azrielsrealmate @pey2618 @mellowmusings
Kinktober taglist: @thyellablackk @p1nkfluffysocks @maddieboo8 @a-courtof-azriel @whataenginerd @loviseamms @chaconnelatte @okaytrashpanda @scarsandallaz @velarisdusk @olive-main @krispypotato @scorpioriesling @fourthwing4ever @asaucecoveredsomething
#kinktober 2024#rhysand#rhysand x reader#rhysand x y/n#rhysand x you#rhysand smut#rhysand fic#rhysand acotar#acotar#acotar x reader#acotar smut#acotar fanfic#a court of thorns and roses#sjm#sarah j maas#smut#fanfiction#kinktober
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kinktober - day 30 - sex pollen
nikolai x f!reader | 1.3k words cw: dubcon because sex pollen, mean nikolai, that line is the only line featuring ‘daddy’ apologies, we love italics, dirty talk, piv a/n: he makes me unwell. russian language bits are stylized with italics and strike-through: example summary: nik is so selfless. banner by @/cafekitsune | kinktober list
“Come on then, princess. Show Daddy how much you need this."
“Do not call yourself that, do not call me that.”
“Apologies, it’s the compound—“
“It is not. You’re fucking fine.”
Straddling Nikolai, you shudder, feeling yourself dripping onto him. The product of a manufactured and unnatural surge of arousal seeping into his thatch of dark hair. Grasping his cock with one hand and planting the other on his chest, you bite your lip hard as it slips through your folds.
“Christ,“ he chokes. “On with it already.”
“I can’t—My hands are shaking.”
Fucking bastard.
You grit your teeth, finally notching the tip to your hole. It’s a tight fit, practically a negotiation with your sopping albeit neglected cunt. Of course, it’s just your luck that some mysterious glitter bomb-esque chemical cloud is the thing to end your months-long dry spell.
The sensation is overwhelming—tight, hot, and unbelievably wet—and you hiss a string of curses, watching Nik’s jaw clench so hard you think he might crack a tooth.
The vein at his temple pulses and color fills his cheeks. His eyes narrow to slits the further you sink down, and his mouth, which never smiles for you, curls in a mean smirk.
When Price paired you with Nikolai for this op, you wanted to protest. To tell him you barely stomach Nik’s company on a good day. The man hates you, and lets you know it every chance he gets. He’s never uttered a word of thanks or praise in your direction. All you are is the weak link, the rookie, and a pain in his ass.
An unprepared one, too. You’re still kicking yourself for forgetting your gas mask while gearing up. You could’ve sworn you had it. Price shouldn’t have allowed you to board without it. Nikolai chewed you out as you fumbled your scarf over your nose and mouth, his deep voice booming from the cockpit as the exposed chemical billowed into your face. He used his native tongue, but you didn’t need a translator to get the gist. In the end, the fabric hadn’t been enough, it burrowed into your mouth and sinuses, absorbing quickly through the sensitive membranes. Nik was forced to ground thirty minutes outside your rendezvous point to prevent further exposure, and due to the interesting effects of the powder. The onset of which was rapid.
As to what you inhaled, the compound is a mystery for the moment. One second, you were a little dizzy but fine, the next, yowling like a cat in heat. You writhed in your jumpseat, clawing at the steel wall, trying to catch the seatbelt strap just right against your clit. You listened to Nikolai barking at someone over comms, another burst of expletives, and the resigned sigh as he unbuckled and hauled you to the floor.
Which led you here, poised to ride him to hell and back. You, naked as the day you were born, thanking the powers at be for your IUD, and Nik, fully clothed with his gas mask discarded beside his head.
“Your cunt’s like a tap. Might need to secure some of this for future use with prettier women.”
“Shut up!”
On the heels of your anger, raw, visceral need scrapes your throat in a whine. Rocking your hips, you take him as deep as you can, struggling with the loss of finesse you normally pride yourself on. Nikolai mutters, his hands sliding from your thighs to your hips, bringing you down to meet a buck. You groan, wincing as his cock rams in the rest of the way. Glaring, you rake your nails uselessly over his shirt, hoping the pressure conveys your distaste. Bad enough he’s the man ‘taking one for the team’—he doesn’t need to assume charge.
“It’s either we fuck, or your fever worsens, you go crazy, organs fail…”
“You? Me fuck you?”
“Oh, your brain must be going already. Come on. Would you really rather die than fuck me, darling?”
Heat and synthetic lust propel your movements after that, driving you to ride him at as frenzied a pace as your body allows. You think it must be part adrenaline, from booking it out of the lab to the helicopter, and partly your internal systems fighting the chem-based intruders. You’re not a doctor, not a medic—you simply choose to believe the comfort your brain extends. Lay the blame at the feet of an unnamed psycho of a scientist who clearly needed to get laid.
Sweat gathers at your forehead, and streams down your back and limbs in sheets. A sheen coats your exposed skin, heat hugging you from the inside out.
Your eyes flutter open at the removal of one of Nikolai’s hands. He rips the velcro of a glove with his teeth, then pries it off his hand by a fingertip. He flings it away, then reaches, taking a greedy handful of a tit.
“Yes, yes.”
Nik squeezes and hums, brows knitting as you slow to grind, bending to push further into his palm. “I suppose these are decent.” He grunts as you wind up again.
“Better than decent. You g-got lucky.”
He pinches your nipple before groping its twin. “That so?”
“Wouldn’t be on top of you, ah, if it wasn’t for some, f-fuck, fucking aphrodisiac shit. I hate you.”
You can tell he wants to flip you the moment you utter the words. His mouth twitches like it does on poker night. Mind scrambled and syrupy, your hand swiftly finds his neck with a flash of clarity, cupping his jaw and forcing his head up. A flicker of surprise passes over his features, and sweat sticks your fingers in place.
He snarls, a filthy laugh rasping from his throat. “If it were up to me, you wouldn’t be on top at all. I’d take you on your hands and knees, darling. Fuck you like the bitch you are.”
Nik drops his hands from your chest, slotting it over the bend of your thigh to stretch a rough thumb to your clit. He digs his fingers in hard enough to bruise and yanks you down to meet his sudden, annoyingly precise thrusts.
“You’d like that, yes? Ah, I think you would.” He pants, his snide facade giving way to something raw and unbridled. “Come on, you crazy bitch. Take your medicine.”
If your life didn’t seem dependent on coming, you’d knock his teeth out.
Sparks shoot down your spine to join the heat coiling in your gut, narrowing your focus to his playing with your clit and the battering of his cock. The remaining clarity you possess chases off unhelpful questions as to how long the compound lasts or how much of this is you and not it.
“Fuck, Nik, fuckfuckfuck—”
Your body joins your voice in its stutters, jolting over him as your orgasm rips through. Your hands fist his shirt, holding on for dear life as he continues, uncaring about your sensitivity, and the little yips his cock punches from your mouth. He comes with a curse, his face screwed up in an almost angry expression. When his eyes eventually open, he stares, chest heaving. The gold in his chain glints in the dimming light from outside.
He swallows, and you watch his throat bob. There’s a question in the notch of his neck.
Instead of prompting him, you pull off with a wince and shakily rise with your fever and artificial lust abated.
“This never happened.”
“You’re welcome for saving your life.”
“Yeah, you’re a real martyr.”
Nik just breathily chuckles. By the time he shuffles to the cockpit, you’re dressed and checking the shipment’s containers a third time.
As he passes, you ask over your shoulder, “Did you mean it? The, ah, hands and knees...Have you…thought about this before?”
He drops into his seat and reaches for his headset in the copilot’s seat. He shoots you a smug smile. “Why? You want to bark for me, darling?”
Fucking bastard.
#sy kinktober#nikolai x reader#nikolai x f!reader#nikolai cod#kinktober 2024#my last kinktober fill you can all breathe a sigh of relief now
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bad blood
actor!ryomen sukuna x f!reader
**part of my dream girl fic
songs mentioned: bad blood by taylor swift and obsessed by olivia rodrigo
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“are you of the opinion that all PR is good PR?”
sukuna can tell that it’s not the time for jokes. that much is obvious to him from the exasperated looks on everyone’s faces at his ill-timed comment – at nanami pinching the bridge of nose, yuuji shooting him an irritated look (with a whisper of a smile on his face), and his manager shoyo’s eyes pinched shut in frustration.
“i would be inclined to think that, but sukuna is over party trending for the past three hours is giving me a run for my money here.” shoyo responds.
sukuna diverts his eyes back to the television, shoyo’s computer projecting the trending hashtag onto the screen, and his fingers darting to refresh every few seconds with another set of irritating tweet about him. sukuna’s gotten the hint from the first three, but he has a sneaking inkling that shoyo’s doing this part just to rub it in his face – that it’s his way of saying i told you so without explicitly doing so.
shoyo was interesting in that way. managers were interesting in that way.
sukuna wondered to himself how many other careers had these types of dynamics, with “mentors” who served as stand-in parents. telling someone what to do, what not to do – in attempts to guide them from right or wrong – that almost never worked in his case.
his gut instinct tells him that almost every single profession does. but it also tells him that the other managers can’t be half as annoying as the special spot that entertainment managers take up.
at the very least, he can appreciate the take that shoyo has on his position. like a firm, strict father figure. he spares no warmth for him – just the way sukuna likes it.
“so what are we going to do? can we just ignore it?” sukuna asks.
it’s a loaded question.
what can you do when you might have possibly tanked every attempt at an entertainment career before it even starts?
sukuna’s first manager, starla, taught him three simple facts about the entertainment industry. among other things.
in particular, that the warmth was something that sukuna needed to run far, far away from.
first – attention is hard to attain. anyone can audition to act in a show, but only one person gets picked. you can be the best in the game but it doesn’t matter unless someone looks at you.
second – once you have it, attention is hard to maintain. if someone takes the time to watch, who’s to say that they’re ever going to watch you again? anyone can be a one hit wonder, but it takes greater skill to stay relevant, to keep people interested in what you’re putting out.
and third. reputation is everything. it’s best practice to avoid becoming a contrarian. it’s social suicide to your career.
it seems that sukuna might have nipped the first two in the bud, by accidentally becoming a contrarian. again. after so narrowly missing it the first time.
that’s the thing that’s the most frustrating in his opinion. that sukuna did almost nothing out of the sorts, that he had followed every single prim and proper rule he could have after his first few tumbles – and that this time, he very simply became a contrarian for dumping the wrong girl at the wrong time.
sukuna had made his own additions to the facts as time went on. especially after he was dropped by his old manager, promptly when he turned twenty-three.
lessons that he learned on his own. this situation alone added three to his list.
first – do not date the daughter of an industry titan. who has a loving fanbase that will attack you if the two of you break up.
second – do not crack jokes about good and bad PR when you’ve inadvertently created a mess for almost everyone around you.
and third – tread lightly the week before the biggest break of your career. things move so fast that they’re in absolute shambles before you know it.
“there’s nothing you can do besides follow the script that the PR team gave you. keep questions about aimee to a minimum at the event tonight. deflect to the show and only the show.”
sukuna gives shoyo a mock salute. he still doesn’t find it funny.
in fact, sukuna can tell that he’s had exactly enough for this meeting, marked by the almost immediate exodus he makes from the room, with nanami following in tow. nanami shoots him an apologetic smile over his shoulder as he exits and it’s one that sukuna can appreciate.
“you know, i really do question your taste in women.” yuuji states.
sukuna rolls his eyes.
“you question everyone’s taste in women.” sukuna deadpans.
yuuji gives him a laugh – the one that he had been holding in from earlier – and smacks him hard against the shoulder. sukuna can feel the pressure that he was trying to ignore compounding in his head, as he sinks down into the couch.
“i’m being serious though. i just don’t understand what you see in these girls. none of these relationships really have a fighting chance, which at this point, you almost have to be doing on purpose. i know you’re not that dumb.”
sukuna shrugs. he can tell that he’s being baited into having a conversation, a conversation that he doesn’t want to have, and makes a mental note to yuuji later that he shouldn’t lay it on so thick.
“your point is?” sukuna mutters.
“i’m not trying to make a point. i’m trying to understand why you’re so…so keen on pursing things you know won’t work out. it’s almost like you don’t want it to work out for you.”
“i don’t know what you’re talking about. you sound like an idiot.”
yuuji shakes his head, almost like he’s giving him a sentencing. trying to tell him, making it a point that he’s been caught red handed, that he has to give into the conversation.
“don’t tell me you’re really not trying in earnest because of what happened?”
sukuna can feel his frustration coming to a head, right in the center of his forehead. it always felt like feelings were concentrated there, right in that sensitive part of his head that made him rush to anger.
“it’s not about that.”
yuuji takes the hint. he jumps over the line as often as he can, but won’t push any farther.
“i just think that you should give things a real, earnest try. i know that none of us can really understand what happened, but…but that doesn’t mean that it’s going to happen every time. you…you shouldn’t be happy that you’re not trying to find love for real.”
sukuna clicks his tongue in his cheek.
“and who said i was doing that?”
yuuji sighs.
“you’re always the same you know. you never try for real because you’re scared you’re going to strike out. you….you still…you’re still afraid to pursue someone you actually like because you think…”
yuuji doesn’t finish the sentence. but sukuna knows the answer, because he’s said it before.
you’re afraid to pursue someone you actually like because you think they’ll realize there’s nothing to like about you.
--
--
“do you ever think about pushing yourself creatively?”
you wonder how many times someone can ask the same question, worded differently.
in mimi’s case, you’ve reached a whopping count of six. categorically organized – three times while you were out doing your morning coffee, twice over dinner, and today marked a new first, while writing music at the piano.
each question exactly the same, every response exactly the same.
“no. i want to stay exactly the same for the rest of my life.” you deadpan.
your dry humor earns you a laugh from mimi. in all fairness, it almost always does, because it’s very easy to make her laugh. because she’s a person who is easily pleased, very outgoing, who very simply put, enjoys most things.
“i wouldn’t even be shocked if you said that to me. your google calendar is my very worst nightmare, you know that?”
“my google calendar is perfectly organized. just as it should be.”
“i mean. very organized. i am very appreciative that you’re on time to all of our meetings, which is very rare with your generation.”
“you’re in the same generation as us. you’re not even that much older than me.” you deadpan.
“okay, but being a mother has aged me like ten years. all of my friends do pilates in their free time, make brunch plans for fun.”
“i’m your friend. i don’t do pilates in my free time. and i eat at five in the morning on the dot everyday.”
“yeah. you’ve just take up different odd hobbies, but it’s basically the same thing.”
you scoff, as you flip the page on the stand of the piano.
you wonder how often mimi thinks about that type of thing. the life that she used to live. the fact that you could be doing all the things that she couldn’t necessarily do anymore. it makes you wonder if that’s why she’s so adamant.
“i could be doing drugs you know.”
“you should be doing drugs!”
well, that answers your question.
“i can’t wait to see what your child does in the future. you’ve set such high expectations!”
mimi rolls her eyes. she’s very easily pleased, very outgoing, and filled with an overwhelming well of patience to counteract your stubbornness.
it’s granted that she almost never wins, that your firmness in your decision always stands at the end of the day, but it doesn’t mitigate her efforts to try. you’re betting that she’s going to give her very stubborn daughter a run for her money in a few years when she’s older.
“i don’t mean that you should actually do drugs. or maybe i do. some of my other writers love to drink or smoke weed to get through writer’s block. it just a little shift to push you to some new limits.”
“perfect. i’ll just try to do some ketamine before my next song so that it sounds better.”
mimi sighs.
“i’m not telling you to go do horse tranquilizers. i’m stating a very simple fact, that you tend to gravitate towards what is comfortable for you. in your personal life, in your friends, in your songwriting. you’ve found a sound that you work great with, themes that resonate with people. but you’ve been stuck there, right where you know people want you. it wouldn’t hurt to try pushing the limits here and there.”
you scoff.
“you sound like a shitty inspirational quote.”
mimi shakes her head.
“i often find that stubbornness to approach new things at the end of the day creates a sort of resentment towards anything that stimulates new growth. and keeps you stuck exactly where you are currently. stagnant.”
you don’t like the evaluation. the sentencing that she’s given you, that she’s been giving you for the past few months.
that you aren’t going anywhere.
you not liking it doesn’t make it any less true. but her saying it over and over again doesn’t propel you into doing anything about it either.
“and what if i fail to do this whole moving thing you’re talking about?” you jest.
mimi pinches her lips in a line.
“then it proves to me that you’re just approaching this entire thing wrong. you’re not winning an award, you’re writing a song. it’s not an examination that you’re completing, it’s just something you’re trying to say.”
you give her a dry smile.
“and what if no one wants to hear what i have to say?”
“that’s where you and i will disagree. i fear people are on the edge of their seats waiting for it.”
you snort.
“are you not a fan of me sticking it to idiots like jake nicholson and aimee lynch?”
mimi gives you a smug grin.
“a huge fan. but i can tell that you’ve got something else under the surface that’s dying to be let out.”
“i suppose that’ll just have to wait for today.” you respond.
mimi shrugs.
“i’ll try again tomorrow.” she affirms.
you’re not sure why she tries. you’re still going to say no.
--
sukuna’s manager’s strategy was very simple. all he had to do was save face for a week – a week until the show came out. tell people to watch the premiere on the red carpet, throw in an anecdote about filming here and there, and that was that.
granted, his job wasn’t exactly hard. the ensemble cast did most of the work, satoru’s loud voice combined with how energetic yuuji is, allowed him to slip through the cracks and make it inside the venue without any unsavory questions about aimee.
sukuna looks across the room to where the two of them are standing near the bar, glasses of ice in their hand, satoru no doubt flicking his charm and stupid pickup lines at everyone. he understood the strategy – that sukuna having the opportunity to talk created a greater risk for him to say something he shouldn’t – but it just made the event boring for him.
sukuna hated being on the sidelines.
quite literally the sidelines, because the table he was currently occupying was pushed against the wall. he would retreat back to the main table in the center when the two of them returned, but judging by how loud they were laughing, it didn’t seem like it was going to be any time soon.
“excuse me.”
sukuna’s thrown out of his train of thought by the voice, only to find he’s accompanied by two girls at his side. sukuna inches his glass of soda closer to him, noting the sparky stars gleaming on their eyelids, accompanied with layers of beaded bracelets on their wrists.
fans. sukuna’s found his in.
“can i help you?” sukuna asks.
the two girls look at each other, a nervous laugh escaping their lips, as they squeeze their intertwined hands together. he prays to god they’re not here for aimee.
“are you ryomen sukuna?”
sukuna smiles, looping his elbow across the back of the chair, and smiling. there’s no distaste in their voice – so they most likely aren’t. he’s won.
“sure am. who might you be?” sukuna asks.
“we’re addison and abigail.” they respond.
sukuna uses his free hand, gesturing for them to take the free chairs across from him. he watches as they both widen their eyes, stumbling knees hitting the bottom of the table as he readjusts and leans back.
interviews and networking he wasn’t allowed to do. that much was clear. but talking to fans caused no trouble, and it wasn’t explicitly off limits.
it gave him time to do what he did best. charm people.
“addison and abigail. to what do i owe the pleasure?” sukuna asks.
“we don’t want to take up any of your time.” abigail starts.
“really, we’re sure you’re quite busy. this is a big event and all and you probably have to do interviews and all that.” addison adds.
sukuna grins.
“i’ll always make time for you.”
he watches as their eyes widen, abigail’s lips pinched shut together by the bluntness in his statement, as he lifts his glass and presses it to his lips.
“i have a question.” sukuna states.
“anything!” addison replies.
her response is too fast. so fast that sukuna can almost clock that she’s realized that it’s too fast – that she’s embarrassed at how eager she was to respond. he shoots her a kind smile in response, before leaning forward and bracing his forearms against the table.
“how did the two of you sneak in here? secret boyfriend let you in?” sukuna asks.
the two of them offer him an awkward laugh, slightly releasing their shoulders, as they lift their hands and very adamantly gesture the opposite.
“not at all. we got selected to attend the event through the fan program.” abigail responds.
sukuna smirks.
“here for me?” sukuna asks.
the two of them widen their eyes, almost like they’ve been caught in an awkward situation. because they’re very obviously not here for him.
the fan invites were given for the singers and affiliated studios. and he’d be caught dead before singing live in front of an audience.
“i’m so sorry. i don’t mean to…”
sukuna immediately retreats.
“you do realize that i’m not a singer, right?” sukuna asks.
“what?” abigail asks.
“i don’t sing. there’s no way that you could be here for me.” sukuna clarifies.
the two of them breathe a sigh of relief, abigail giving him a jokingly irritated glare as he shoots the two of them a smile.
“relax. i’m just pulling your leg. it’s all in good fun. we can take a picture and everything, whatever you want.” sukuna responds.
the two of them breathe a sigh of relief.
“really?” she asks.
sukuna nods.
“that’s so sweet, thank you so much. we have a friend who’s a really big fan, so we were trying to get her a signed shirt.”
“a signed shirt it is.” sukuna responds, noting that they reach into their bag with the shirt and marker prepared.
“oh my god. i thought you were….you were going to be a diva or something.” abigail responds.
“me? a diva?” sukuna jokes.
“you wouldn’t believe it. god, some people can be so rude. one time, aimee lynch got us…”
addison’s quick to respond, shoving her elbow into her side to gesture for her to be quiet. sukuna narrow their eyes at the two of them, before rolling her eyes.
sukuna, in the split second, debates if he should respond. if it would go against the deal he made – to be quiet, to not cause any noise – because they could go running and post about it on twitter.
he decides against his better judgment, only because it’s potently clear they’ve been terrorized by aimee before.
“got you kicked out of an event?” sukuna asks.
“yeah…” addison mumbles.
“she does that often. it’s a whole load of shit. i’m glad you’re here.” sukuna responds.
“yeah. we were just really upset because we were actually supposed to meet y/n that day. we had tweeted to her that we got kicked out before we made it to the meet and greet and her team organized a whole like facetime call and sent us merch, but it was super annoying.” abigail responds.
sukuna nods, only because he knows all too well, that it’s exactly in her character to kick fans out of events. their “desperation” always got on her nerves.
“well, i hope you get to meet her tonight. she is here, right?” sukuna asks.
“yeah. she invited us personally since we missed out last time.”
sukuna smiles.
“that’s sweet. i hope you get to meet her later.” sukuna responds.
--
--
there’s a patterned knock on the door of your dressing room. two fast, two slow, two fast. it’s accompanied by the door swinging open and the reflection of megumi standing in the mirror with a cup of iced coffee in his hand.
you shoot him an excited smile, apologetically shooing away your hair and makeup team from the chair, to get up and greet him.
“coffee? for moi?” you ask, exaggerating every syllable.
megumi rolls his eyes, placing the cold cup into the palm of your hand, as you shoot him a smile.
megumi hates when you exaggerate the syllables – which is precisely the reason that you do it. you have an inkling that he secretly loves it, because he’s a secret fan of your antics.
“figured you needed it. you look like a hag.” megumi responses.
you snort down a laugh, as you take a sip from the overly sweet coffee.
“hag is a new one. you’ve always had such a way with words, my love.” you joke.
you return back to your chair, gesturing for him to take the free one at your side, as you reach for your phone and read through the last texts you got from mimi. all confirmations – that your guitar and band have arrived, that you’re all good to go at the end of the hour.
“is romeo here?” you ask.
you can see megumi’s irritated expression out of the corner of your eye, accompanied with a pink flush that creeps up his neck.
“what’s his name again? yuki?” you joke.
“yuuji.” megumi corrects, his voice almost stern.
“okay, relax. pipe it down three notches, juliet.”
megumi lifts his hand, awkwardly rubbing it against the back of his neck, as you drop your phone in your lap and narrow your eyes at him.
“what did he do today?”
“you don’t care.” megumi mumbles.
“and that hasn’t stopped you from telling me in the past.”
everyday, for the past eight months, you received a barrage of texts from megumi. ranging across every emotion in the human bandwidth, but always about the same thing.
his new co-star. how great his hair look, what text he sent him that morning, how his skin looked perfect in the light. you would nip that type of dialogue from anyone else in the bud. but megumi wasn’t anyone else.
“but you’re asking. which means you can’t complain, because you basically warranted it out of me.”
you roll your eyes.
“yeah, yeah.”
“he got us matching pins for press this week. they’re like little cartoon versions of us. but he also got one for our other co-star nobara, so it doesn’t really count.”
you shrug.
“but he still got you one. so it does count. that’s cute.” you respond.
“but she has one too.”
“but did he give it to you as a group or individually?” you ask.
“individually.” megumi responds.
you smile.
“exactly. it means something different when it’s individually.” you respond.
“you’re delusional.” megumi responds.
you roll your eyes.
“you could benefit from being a little delusional, drama queen.”
“and then when we were coming here, i was telling him that you were going to be here and he got super excited. he remembered that i always used to get you coffee before your first show so he actually stopped our car and made sure that i was able to get some from you since you’re performing tonight.”
you grin.
“not technically my first show, but i appreciate the effort. I love him already. especially if he’s so passionate about my caffeine addiction.”
“it’s from his coffee shop that he works at with his brother. they used to work there together when they were younger and like…he was telling me all about it. how the two of them used to work there after school and that the owners were like their second parents. they almost went down under a few years ago but they both had enough acting money so they invested. he was even introducing me to them and shit. like fully introducing me to people he views as family.”
you nod.
“wow, juliet. when’s the wedding?” you ask.
“shut up.” megumi responds.
“but really, that’s actually very sweet. he seems like a great guy.”
“he is a great guy. he wants to meet you too, you know?” megumi responds.
“that would be against your better judgment. i’m going to tell him all about your little crush. and propose marriage on your behalf like you’re my property in the 18th century or something.” you respond.
“your jokes never get funnier.” megumi deadpans.
“and yet you’re still here.”
“his brother is here too. the one who used to date aimee.”
you widen your eyes.
“poor guy. it’s probably a blood bath out there for him.”
“he made it through press unscathed, but they’re telling him to keep a low profile. but yuuji’s all worried because he tends to get erratic and take things into his own hands sometimes.”
“what are they saying again?” you ask.
“fans are mad because the report that went out said sukuna dumped her or something.”
you snort.
“is that even bad when she was like basically cheating on him the whole time?” you ask.
“don’t think he knows that.”
you shake your head.
“really?”
megumi shrugs.
“i get the impression he didn’t care about the relationship too much.”
you nod.
“well, then my song won’t hurt his feelings too bad when he finds out they used to date.”
you push up out of the chair, gesturing to your outfit as megumi gives you an approving nod. you link your arms together, pushing out of the door onto the floor of the venue, and continue your conversation in lowered voices.
“do you want me to punch jake?” megumi asks.
“and ruin your pretty little baby hands? i would never.”
megumi rolls his eyes, as the lights dim, and the two of you direct your eyes to the stage. it’s a long introduction, all of the producers and affiliates taking the time to thank everyone for attending. you’re performing at the end of the hour, which gives you enough time to zone this out and focus on the song.
“our very first performance is from one of our affiliates at dancing lady studios – aimee lynch with guest star jake nicholson.”
you and megumi widen your eyes as you turn to look at each other, as you all but crush megumi’s arm in your grasp. the two of them walk out onto the stage – and you note that her sparkly silver is almost identical to the outfit you had been wearing on tour for the past few months.
and that jake’s using the guitar that you gifted him on his birthday.
you know she’s doing it on purpose. that she knows that about you – that you’ll connect dots and draw conclusions – to exactly what she’s trying to do.
piss you off.
Did you think we'd be fine? Still got scars on my back from your knife So don't think it's in the past These kind of wounds they last and they last Now did you think it all through? All these things will catch up to you And time can heal, but this won't So if you come in my way, just don't
Oh, it's so sad to think about the good times You and I
megumi leans down, voice quiet as he whispers in your ear.
“this is going to do rounds on kids bop.”
you snort.
“they would be so lucky.” you respond back.
'Cause baby, now we got bad blood You know it used to be mad love So take a look what you've done 'Cause baby, now we got bad blood (hey!) Now we got problems And I don't think we can solve 'em You made a really deep cut And baby, now we got bad blood (hey!)
“did you know they were going to do this?” megumi asks.
you shake your head.
“there’s no need to worry. i’m always prepared.”
--
“unless i’m not mistaken, you didn’t catch any strays tonight. how can one be so lucky?” shoko jokes.
“we can’t all be the chosen ones.” sukuna responds back.
“the night is still young. a girl can only dream.” shoko responds.
sukuna rolls his eyes before smiling at her and trying to shake shoko’s grasp off of him, as he turns his attention back to the stage. with the event in full swing, he was allowed to return to the central table, only because the group of them around him to keep track of him.
shoyo’s doing, he was sure.
but he’s sure that shoyo was somewhere fast asleep in his bed right now, having the most restful nap he’s taken in months. sukuna’s inclined that he’ll feel the same way tonight when he goes to bed, with the promise of no scolding from his team since he did, in fact, not catch aimee’s wrath tonight.
it was attributed to someone else tonight. he’s not exactly sure who, but at this point, all he can do is be thankful that it wasn't him.
“who were you talking to earlier?” shoko asks.
“fans who got invited to the event.” sukuna responds.
“poor girls. they got assaulted by the smell of your cologne and had to lose brain cells by talking to you?” shoko jokes.
sukuna scoffs.
“that already happened when you walked into the room. don’t kid yourself, ieiri.”
“you should learn some manners. is that any way to talk to a woman?” shoko asks.
“can you guys shut the fuck up?”
shoko and sukuna turn their heads to the left to find satoru standing there, eyes razor focused and glued to the stage.
“what stick is up your ass?” shoko asks.
“it’s y/n’s turn to perform.” satoru seethes.
shoko snorts.
“don’t tell me that your dream girl is in attendance? how are you even standing straight right now?” shoko asks.
“pure adrenaline, bitch.” satoru responds.
sukuna and shoko widen their eyes as they share a look – a quiet communication that satoru’s being more erratic than normal and to leave him be – as they turn their attention back to the stage.
the bright lights shine red on the stage as the visuals go up, a twisting and turning illusion against the back screen. there’s a rising platform in the center and all he gets a glimpse of are sparkly star tights.
La-da-da-da, da-da-da, la-da-da-da-da La-da-da-da, da-da-da
If I told you how much I think about her You'd think I was in love And if you knew how much I looked at her pictures You would think we're best friends
'Cause I know her star sign, I know her blood type I've seen every movie she's been in and, oh god, she's beautiful And I know you loved her, and I know I'm butthurt But I can't help it, no, I can't help it
I'm so obsessed with your ex (uh-huh) I know she's been asleep on my side of your bed And I can feel it I'm starin' at her like I wanna get hurt And I remember every detail you have ever told me So be careful, baby
I'm so obsessed with your ex (ah) Yeah, I'm so obsessed with your ex (ah) La-da-da-da, da-da-da
sukuna can feel his heart pounding in his throat. he grabs yuuji by the shoulder, yanking him close from the fabric of his shirt, and whispers.
“who is that?”
“were you born under a rock? that’s y/n.”
sukuna watches as you skip around the stage, bathed in the dark red lights surrounding the stage and the visuals with you in the background.
maybe sukuna was born under a rock. he was one thousand percent sure that he would remember something like this.
“the guy that was up with aimee earlier. she’s jake’s ex-girlfriend. they were singing about her.” yuuji whispers.
“is she singing about aimee?” sukuna asks.
yuuji nods.
“they have some weird twisted history. especially with jake, i think. him and aimee have had eyes for each other since like…forever.”
he watches as you walk over to the left side of the stage, crouching down into the view of the camera and right across from where jake and aimee are sitting, irritated looks painted on their faces.
sukuna notes that you're looking right at them. full blown, direct eye contact.
Is she friends with your friends? Does she give great head? Do you think about her? No, I'm fine, it doesn't matter, tell me Is she easy-going? Never controlling? Well-traveled? Well-read? Oh god, she makes me so upset
I'm so obsessed with your ex (ah) She's been asleep on my side in your bed (ah, whoa) I'm so obsessed with your ex (god, she makes me so upset, ah) I'm so obsessed with your, with your ex
sukuna’s frustration compounds again.
because he can’t simply understand how he’s the one getting publicly punished, when aimee’s been in love with some other guy the entire time. and that knowing her, she most definitely leaked the news about how she was blindsided on purpose, just to ruin his career.
“if i was y/n, i’d just punch them both in the face. then start dating one of her boyfriends or something.” shoko states.
the idea comes to sukuna almost instantly. and he makes a mental note to apologize to shoyo later.
--
when you get off the stage and retreat back to your table near the wall, you quickly scan through your texts from mimi.
[mimi]: Three versions slated for release. Could potentially block you getting the #1 spot.
[mimi]: Fingers crossed, but things are faring over well. People love the song.
[mimi]: Obviously.
you set the phone face down at the table and sink down into your chair. you don’t even get a second to think because before you know it, someone’s slid into the chair right across from you, hunched forward into your space over the small chair.
pink hair, arms littered with tattoos. there was something oddly familiar about him.
“you’re just the girl i wanted to see.” he states.
you narrow your eyes at him. you’re unsure which one he is. producers trying to poach for their studio, people looking to network, or the perverts that somehow get let into events like this.
“is that right?” you ask, tone dry.
the guy offers you an over-eager nod, accompanied with a glimmering smirk.
he’s attractive and you can tell from the look on his face that he knows it. for some reason, you’re almost positive that he makes sure of it. toned muscles, hair so perfect that it has to be styled. to the point where it feels calculated.
you lean forward, placing your cheek in the palm of your hand as you smile right back at him. he leans forward almost immediately. it was almost too easy.
“i don’t think we’ve ever met before. i’d think i’d remember that.” you respond.
“only in my dreams.”
you fight the urge to scoff. you’re sure that one worked out well for him in the past. It's the only reason someone would say something so corny and mean it.
you hold your hand out to him, noting that he extends the handshake for far too long.
“y/n.”
“ryomen sukuna.”
that’s where you knew him from. this was megumi’s co-star. romeo’s brother.
“from jujutsu kaisen, right?” you ask.
sukuna gives you a glimmering grin. you note that he has a dimple on the left side.
“know everything about me, don’t you?”
you snort.
“sure do. you’ve got me all figured out, sweetheart.” you deadpan.
sukuna leans back, narrowing his eyes at the comment. you can tell that he’s rethinking what to say next.
“i know about the show because of megumi.” you clarify.
“we go way back.” sukuna responds.
you lean back against the chair and cross your arms over your chest. you've got him right where you want him.
“really?” you ask.
sukuna nods.
“when did you meet him?”
“elementary school. he was always the quiet type.”
sukuna pauses.
“speaking of types, what’s yours?”
you fight the urge to laugh. there was no way he could truly be this forward. but then again, you figure his deep urge to get back at aimee right now was probably inhibiting his good judgement at the current moment.
“why do you ask?”
“you’re a smart girl. i know you can figure it out.”
you take the bait.
“i’ll give it a shot.” you respond.
“that’s my girl.”
you smile before leaning forward to make sure that he hears you properly.
“your name is ryomen sukuna. indie actor for the most part, but you recently got signed on as part of the lead ensemble for mappa’s new show, jujutsu kaisen. you’ve gotten pretty far considering all things, which i’m sure comes as a byproduct of the whole charm bit that you do and from what i’ve heard, some pretty decent acting. and while you’ve done mostly well, you made the brutal mistake of becoming a social pariah by dancing with the tabloid devil, aimee lynch. you’ve ended up on their bad side and now, in some weird type of way – i’ll admit, i’m not exactly sure how – are trying to elicit my help to get you back in people’s good graces. by lying, of course.”
you watch as sukuna’s eyes widen, before he leans back, his cheeks the slightest shade of pink as he swallows hard. and you give him your sincerest smile before pulling out your phone and digging for the photo in your favorites.
of you and megumi in grade school, standing hand in hand.
“i think i’d remember if the human version of pinkie pie from my little pony was running around my elementary school, sukuna.” you state.
and shockingly enough, he only gives you a smile in response – like he’s almost delighted by the fact that what you've just read caught him in a lie– as he sticks his tongue in the side of his cheek and makes a clicking sound.
“got me all figured out, don’t you dollface?”
“you’re painfully obvious, like most men. i’ll see you around, sukuna.” you respond, as you turn on your heel to walk away.
but he’s almost too fast with it, slithering his hand down from your elbow to your wrist, pulling slightly to beckon you to turn back. and he gives you an…a more earnest smile this time as he raises your knuckles to his lips, and leaves a kiss in between the pointer in the middle.
“that’s a promise, sweetheart.”
--
--
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⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ 𝓑eauty 𝓞f 𝓣his 𝓜ess ౨౿ ׅ ۟ ֪ 𝓒hapter 𝓢even
ઇ ˚ ݂ ֹ ꒰ military!miguel 𝓍 fem!neighbor!reader ꒱ ! ۟ ׅ ♡
ׄ ׅ ྀ 𝓢𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘. your friends decide to go to the fair and you invite miguel, spending time with him. while indulging in fun, someone from miguel’s past comes in to ruin it.
ׄ ׅ ྀ 𝓒𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓. fluff, angst, tension, swearing, derogative terms, shaming, sexual remarks, mild physical violence
❛⠀ previous chapter⠀⋅⠀masterlist⠀⋅⠀next chapter ⠀❜
“he did what now?!”
lyla and mj said in unison.
you tell them about the whole joel shitshow. they knew about him and your relationship. oh they hate him as much as you do. thankfully, they never met him or else you believe they would kick his ass and honestly you would allow them to.
when you mention miguel stepping in, both women have mischievous smirks on their faces.
“oh so your prince charming came to your rescue, how adorable.” lyla teases.
your expression falls flat. “cállete. he was just concerned, nothing else.”
“but it’s kinda like that though, your charming prince rescuing you from a monster.”
you roll your eyes.
joel is no doubt a monster, though.
“i always knew there is something going on between you two.” mary jane adds in.
your brows furrowed. “what do you mean?”
both of them give you a deadpan look.
“honey, i’ve seen the way he looks at you. that night at the bar, he couldn’t stop looking at you as if you were the most prettiest being in the world. also not to mention how many times he offered to help you. giving you a ride home, fixing your sink and bookshelf, now helping you telling your ex to fuck off. the man is head over heals for you.”
you stare at her, speechless. her words sinking in, each of those moments flashing through your mind. you did feel his eyes on your the entire time at the bar, making you nervous and bashful. his sweet offers for fixing things with no payment. it makes your heart flutter. the man is truly a sweetheart. every time you walk by your bookshelf, you get flashbacks of miguel fixing it. it always leaves a smile on your face, heart fluttering at the memory.
him standing by your side while confronting joel, providing safety, protection, and support. never felt so much relief when he showed up. not to mention how attractive it was seeing miguel so firm and authoritative. those military tactics were kicking in.
everything this man has done for you leaves you speechless yet swoon over the moon.
is mary jane right?
is miguel truly interested in you like that?
“well… okay yes, he is a sweetheart but i’m not sure he is head over heals for me. he’s probably just being a good neighbor.” your words betray your thoughts.
lyla groans frustratingly and mj facepalms herself.
“girl, the MAN IS INTO YOU!” lyla exclaims, hands raised in the air. “these are obvious signs! the man’s love language is acts of service, pun intended.”
“okay, listen…” mj starts. “peter and i were thinking of going to coney island with the group. how about you invite miguel to come with us? yes, he’s friends with peter and peter probably already or will ask him but if you ask him, he’ll 100% say yes.”
“it’s a perfect opportunity for you two to hangout someplace else besides your apartment. go on rides together and play games. he might even win you something.” lyla wiggles her eyebrows teasingly.
you roll your eyes again at her last comment, lightly nudging her arm which causes her to giggle. trying to hide your smile at the thought of miguel winning some type of prize for you at the park. although, you can’t ignore the heat slowly rising in your cheeks.
“you guys are really trying to set up a date for me?” you across your arms, leaning back in the chair.
“yep!” they say in unison with proud smiles.
another eye roll, finally smiling. “i hate you guys.”
the three of you laugh.
⠀⠀⠀⠀𓂃 ୨ ₊ 𓂃 ౨ৎ 𓂃 ₊ ୧ 𓂃
returning from your girls day out, you catch miguel exiting his apartment. the same black duffel bag over his bulky shoulder. a black tank top with a navy blue hoodie over it and a pair of gray sweatpants.
jesus, he looks fine as hell.
you approach him with a smile. heart fluttering up when he notices you and returns the same smile. but you miss the way his eyes widen a bit as he glances downward towards your outfit. a pretty lavender sundress with a matching bow in your hair.
miguel is mesmerized, enchanted.
you always bewitched him with your beauty and lovely sense of style. it’s not often he sees you in a dress, a sundress more or less, because you’re usually dressed in business attire like blouses with pencil skirts or pants. casual clothing when it’s your day off. but a sundress? it takes his breath away.
it makes him wonder what got you dolled up for. did you hang out with family or friends? was it a special occasion? did you went on a date?
for some reason, the thought of you going on a date creates an unsettling sensation in his chest. miguel shouldn’t feel this way. you’re his neighbor, nothing more than that… right? there’s definitely nothing with you going on a date. you’re an amazing, beautiful person. anyone is luckly to go on a date with you.
but the thought of someone seeing you so dolled up stills makes his chest ache in a strange way.
why is he feeling like this?
he shouldn’t.
he shouldn’t feel his heart beating faster whenever he sees you returning home from work or walking luna outside. or when you standing so close to him, making his palms sweaty and face warming up.
totally nothing… right?
“hey. going to the boxing gym?” you ask, smiling.
“yeah. you look… nice. a special occasion?”
really, nice?
miguel wants to facepalm himself. nice isn’t enough or justifiable for describing how beautiful you look in that sundress. gotta get his shit together.
although, he can’t deny the desperation to know the reason for looking so pretty today. not saying that you don’t look pretty all the time, you do.
“girls day out with my friends.”
that unsettling feeling vanishes, a big wave of relief coursing through him. it wasn’t a date after all.
“lavender looks pretty on you.”
both your cheeks warm up from the compliment. miguel flushed as hell for speaking his thought out loud. you feeling flustered by his sweet words.
there he goes again making your heart flutter.
“thanks.” you smile bashfully.
now suddenly your feel nervous. it’s time to ask him, invite him to come with you to coney island. why are you nervous? it’s just a simple question. you’re simply asking your neighbor, and friend, if he’s willing to go to the park with you and your friends. simple question and easy to ask, right?
so why is your heart suddenly beating rapidly in your chest? why are your palms now slightly sweaty? why is your body literally on fire right now?
it’s a simple question, just do it!
“so uh - i don’t know if peter asked you this already but um…” you awkwardly clear your throat. “do you… do you wanna come with us to coney island?”
god you sound awkward as hell. you can’t believe how stupid you probably sound.
but the smile on miguel’s face says otherwise.
“i would love to.”
a feeling of relief washes over you. “cool.”
⠀⠀⠀⠀𓂃 ୨ ₊ 𓂃 ౨ৎ 𓂃 ₊ ୧ 𓂃
the park is full like usual. a never ending sea of people roaming around the park. the colorful attractions and vibrant lights illuminating each inch of the park. laughter and screams filling the atmosphere, sounds of enjoyment.
the weather seems to be nice, between high 60s and low 70s. you settle on a white turtleneck crop top and a brown pleaded mini skirt with black tights and comfortable shoes since you’d be walking around a lot. since it’s autumn and halloween around the corner, you want to match theme and spirit. when miguel first saw you while waiting outside your door, his pupils dilate drastically. miguel swore an angel was approaching him. you look breathtaking in that cute outfit. the colors makes your appearance so cozy. how the tights perfectly captures the curves of your legs. his eyes lingering on them a bit too much. warmth rose up to his cheeks.
still manage to snatch his breath.
“you look beautiful.”
your cheeks warmed from his sweet compliment, heart fluttering in your chest.
“thanks.” you bashfully smile.
with your friend group, you venture through the park. it was peter, mary jane, eddie and shockingly anne. you recall eddie telling you about their reconnection lately. it’s nice to see them together, even as friends. harry couldn’t come because he had a business trip to attend, the rich bastard he is but you love him.
miguel remains by your side as you walk around. your hands would accidentally brush against each other, sending jolts through both your bodies. you apologize the first few times but eventually stop since you continue doing it. neither of you minded. he still remains glued to your side while waiting in line for rides. more so you both glued together.
miguel was hesitant at first about rides due to his tall and bulky structure. you and the group reassure him it’s totally fine but ultimately understand his concern. although, he was able to go on most rides. most times you two would ride together but sometimes you would sit with mj or anne to mix things up. he wasn’t fond of sitting next to peter, considering how of much the man screams and takes a million selfies before and during the ride. eddie isn’t that bad but miguel prefers riding with you.
he adores seeing you smiling, laughing on rides. how happy you look. the joyful screams that sound like music to his ears. never he would thought a sound would make his heart swoon. he recalls you saying you’re a roller coaster person, you were definitely not lying. miguel adored watching you having fun. it’s a sight he loves to see, it brings a smile to his face.
after a good amount of rides, it’s time to grab some food. there is a corn dog stand nearby. you’re about to get in line when miguel steps in front of you, making you smile confusingly at him.
“i can order for the both of us.” he sweetly offers.
“no, it’s okay. i got it.” you softly decline.
“i don’t want you waiting in line for a while. it’s a pretty long line.” he gestures at the line, consisting more than 15 people. “i can take care of it.”
god, this man is too sweet.
“you drove here, the least i can do is pay for food.”
you want to be fair and miguel knows that. you’re so sweet and considerate. but he feels guilty for making you stand in a long line for simple corn dogs.
“at least let me wait here with you.”
your heart flutters at the suggestion.
“alright, but if i see that wallet of yours, i’m sending you back to the table.” you tease.
miguel chuckles. “alright, lo prometo.”
after a long wait, chitchatting to kill time, you finally get your corn dogs. miguel was thinking of slipping his card over the counter but decided to respect your wishes. just this once, he thought to himself.
you return to the group at the table with all your individual choices of food. afterwards, you all collectively agree to get pizza as dinner.
after devouring the delicious pizza, you decide to play a couple of games and try to win some prizes. peter wins mary jane a stuffed bunny with a pink bow. eddie fails to make any rings in water bottles. surprisingly, anne manages to get them all, leaving eddie impressed standing there like a fool. you win yourself a tiny plushie of gary from spongebob. you wanted it since you first laid your eyes on it.
wondering around the various games and prizes, a pink butterfly plushie captures your attention. making you stop in your tracks. it’s so adorable, you never wanted something so badly in your life. well, besides luna. that plushie is absolutely adorable. too bad the game to win it is shooting basketballs. you failed at it in PE back in middle school and high school. there is no way you’d win for sure.
miguel notices your cute expression and an idea pops into his head. making his way over to the game stand, he hands the booth guy a ticket and starts playing the game. grabbing the ball, he makes the first shot. then the second, third, and fourth.
the group cheers and applaud for him while you stand there visibly impressed. not paying attention to eddie playfully nudging your shoulder.
after thanking the booth guy for handing over the plushie, miguel slowly approaches you with a grin, holding the plushie in his hands. they are just so big, the plushie looks so small in them. he holds out to you, heart beating like a drum.
you stare in awe, fixating between the plushie and miguel. “this is the sweetest thing ever… thank you.” you say with a pout, gently taking the plushie from his grasp. the soft, fuzzy material brushing against your fingers. “you didn’t have to…”
“i wanted to, hermosa. i saw how much you loved it so i had to get it for you.” he sheepishly admits, rubbing the back of his neck with a hand.
is it possible for your heart to flutter more?
this sweet man.
you smile bashfully, hugging the plushie to your chest. “thank you.”
what you both fail to see is your friends staring in awe of the adorable interaction between you and miguel. they even snapped a few pictures because it’s too cute. you two are too cute.
⠀⠀⠀⠀𓂃 ୨ ₊ 𓂃 ౨ৎ 𓂃 ₊ ୧ 𓂃
after drinking tons of water, you head to the bathroom. miguel offers to wait for you, standing outside as people walk by, arms crossed over his chest. as he waits patiently, he notices someone approaching him. a man with platinum blonde hair, very familiar hair that miguel only knows one other person with the same hair color. his blood suddenly turns cold. thick brows now furrowed.
it’s kron, that asshole of a half-brother.
the devil himself, or actually his offspring damien since tyler isn’t the greatest man ever.
it’s a curse to be related to that son of a bitch. miguel doesn’t even consider kron a brother or family in general. the only connection they have is half their blood coming from the same, real devil himself.
fuck, what is he doing here?
“well, well, well… nice to see solider boy out here having fun instead of killing people.” kron taunts, a smug smile on his face.
miguel’s jaw clenched. “que quieres, kron?”
“oh nothing, nothing.” he lazily raises his hands. “i just was walking around until i saw your bulky ass here. y’know, you suck at trying to blend in. pretending you’re a normal guy but really commits the most brutal things just for stupid badges.”
his blood began to boil in frustration. he does not want to deal with this shit, especially not in public. “look, i know the shit i’ve done and i live with it every damn day.” he learns closer, whispering. “drop it.”
“yeah, the shit you know it’s fucked up, just like it’s fucked up that you got gabriel killed—”
miguel was about to punch kron in the face when you finally return from the bathroom.
“hey, i’m all set.” blissfully unaware of the tension between the two men in front of you.
kron, like the smuggest asshole he is, eyes you up and down. a smug smile on his face, licking his lips. “well… who’s the hottie here?”
you immediately are disgusted by him, especially with that smug attitude. “and you are?”
“kron.” he hands out his hand but you refuse to shake it. he seems unfazed by it, only smiling more. “so this your girl, huh? finally getting some, huh?”
you scoff in disgust and miguel is fuming, growing more infuriated with kron’s stupid behavior.
“leave, kron.” miguel said sternly, stepping in front of you to protect you from this smug bastard.
“whaaat?” he slurs out. “i just wanna know who’s actually willing to let you get your dick wet.”
your mouth drops open in offense.
miguel yanks him by his shirt collar with aggressiveness, eliciting a few gasps from bystanders. “say one more fucking thing and you won’t have that tongue anymore.” his hot, angry breath hitting against his face.
“oh yeah, it’s what you’re good at, huh soldier boy?” kron taunts. “do it, in front of miss hottie right there. she sure has you by the balls.”
just as he’s about to do something ugly, you push the two men apart, stepping in the middle.
“unlike you who won’t have any.”
before he could say something back, you kick kron right in the balls with harsh force. making the idiot groan in pain and crumble to his knees. hands cupping his now fucked up balls.
miguel, on the other hand, is impressed. no, more mesmerized by you. witnessing you kick the shit of his stupid half-brother was fucking incredible. but also impressed you stood up for him.
after informing security of the incident and kron being escorted by them, a big wave of relief washes over you and miguel. the asshole is finally gone.
“i’m so sorry you had to deal with that asshole.” miguel looks at you with a remorseful look. “all the disrespectful comments he said, it was wrong.”
those derogative and disrespectful words towards you made his skin crawl. miguel was about to let go of all his morals and show kron what disrespect looks like but luckily you arrived in time. supposed kron was lucky but next time probably not.
“it’s okay, someone had to shut him up.”
“nice kick.” miguel compliments.
“thanks, i don’t think that asshole would have kids after that. i may sucked at basketball but soccer wasn’t that bad.” both of you laugh as the rest of the friend group rushes over with concern faces.
“hey, you guys okay?” peter asks.
“what happened?” eddie follows up.
“yeah, we’re fine. just some asshole who was bothering us.” miguel explains.
looking past miguel, peter sees security escorting the troubled individual and recognizes him.
“oh shit, is that kron?” he sounds in disbelief. “wow, honestly not surprised it’s him.”
“who’s kron?” mj asks, confused.
“no one—”
“miguel’s stupid half-brother.”
your eyes widen in surprise.
half-brother? that asshole is miguel’s half-brother? now you understand the tension between them. you actually feel bad for miguel being related to him.
you look up at him to see miguel already looking at you, knowing what you’re thinking.
“through my father.” he reveals.
now it makes even more sense.
“like father, like son: major assholes.” peter jokes.
although you’ve never met miguel’s father, nor will ever meet him, by what miguel told you about him and meeting kron, you don’t doubt it.
“well, lets end the night with some fun and not let that asshole ruin it, yeah?” anne suggests.
all of you agree and enjoy the rest of the night playing a few more games and rides.
while waiting in line for one last ride, it starts to feel a bit chilly, causing you to shiver a little. goosebumps forming on your skin. shit, you should’ve brought a cardigan or a flannel, a dumb mistake you made. the fabric material of your turtleneck is thin so the cold breeze flows through very easily. you wrap your arms around yourself, an attempt to warm yourself up but obviously not enough. although, it doesn’t go unnoticed by a certain pair of brown eyes. taking off his leather jacket, miguel offers it to you.
your eyes land on the jacket then up at him. “oh no, it’s okay! i’m fine.” you kindly declined.
“i saw you shivering, please take it.” he pleads.
unable to say no to those eyes, you accept his offer and he helps you put it on. the inside is very warm, the leftover of his body heat. it feels like a jacket heater, very smoothing. you also smell his cologne, musky and rich. smells really damn good. the jacket is very big on you, reaching down passed your knees and the sleeves covering your hands that they barely peak out. the sight puts a smile on miguel’s face. how adorable you look in his jacket, how big it looks draped over your smaller figure.
⠀⠀⠀⠀𓂃 ୨ ₊ 𓂃 ౨ৎ 𓂃 ₊ ୧ 𓂃
you and miguel return home from the amusement park. you recall tonight’s adventure as you make your way to your apartments. trying to not talk or laugh too loud and disturb other neighbors.
as you reach for the door handle of your apartment, you suddenly realize you’re still wearing his jacket.
“wait, i gotta give you this back.” as you go to take off the jacket, his response stops you.
“keep it.”
you look back at him in surprise. “what?”
“keep it, chica.” he chuckles at your expression.
“but it’s yours and i’m not cold anymore. i can’t keep something that isn’t mine.”
“i have other jackets, losing one won’t be the end of the world. don’t feel bad about it.”
“are you sure?…” you ask hesitantly, making sure he is actually allowing you to keep the leather jacket.
“i’m sure, hermosa.” miguel said sincerely, smiling.
but the real reason is that miguel loves seeing you in his jacket - his own clothes.
part of you still feels a little guilty but you believe him. “okay… i promise to take good care of it.”
that elicits another chuckle from him. “alright.”
neither of you realize how close you’re standing towards each other, closer than ever. now you understand why you feel a small burning sensation in the back of your neck because you have to crane your neck all the way up just to meet his eyes. miguel really is a giant. yet, you don’t mind the sight pain.
standing so close to you, miguel can’t help but briefly drop his gaze to your lips. painted with lip gloss, giving it a shiny look. those very same lips that taunt him. as if they were a magnetic force, drawing him in.
should he be looking at your lips?
he should stop but doesn’t. why?
you do the same with his, guilty as charged. plump lips that seem a bit too plump, too kissable.
should you…?
as the both of you slowly, very slowly lean closer towards one another, you back away. you act nonchalant about it and say goodnight to each other before heading into your respective homes.
you hugged your butterfly plushie throughout the entire night, smiling in your sleep as you dream about the memory over and over.
little did you know miguel is having the same dream.
𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓. ♡ @reverieblondie @nina-from-317 @kavimoo @aly29a2001 @marshhbs @lazyjellyfish300 @tojishugetiddies @aphinthestars @novelaaaaaaaa @imamexican @obessgurlll @deputy-videogamer @watertribeissuperior @lovehadlovelost @auiciqa @agoddoesnotplead @saintdiior @whoopwhoppghost @tomalymme @skadiloki @miguelsfavwife @asterrrrose @glossygreene @aefin @youcantseem3 @resident-clown @kutsipie @zuevcs @totorotales-08 @meowgirl1 @sukunash0e @jadeloverxd @sirendyes @leahnicole1219 @lisa-takeshi @yehet-moi-ohorat @slowlyshycomputer
© teenidlegirl. don’t steal, plagiarize, or translate my work. ♡
#⠀꒰⠀𝜗𝜚 ֺ 𓂂⠀꒱⠀﹕⠀ℬ𝑒𝑎𝑢𝑡𝑦 𝒪𝑓 𝒯ℎ𝑖𝑠 ℳ𝑒𝑠𝑠⠀.ᐟ⠀#miguel o’hara x fem!reader#miguel o’hara x reader#miguel o'hara x fem!reader#miguel o'hara x reader#miguel o’hara x y/n#miguel o’hara x you#military!miguel#miguel o'hara#miguel o'hara fanfiction#miguel o’hara fanfiction#miguel o'hara angst#miguel o’hara angst#miguel o'hara smut#miguel o’hara smut#across the spiderverse
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Isabela Campos is another successful lawyer, but she plays a very different game. Antonio has only been in the courtroom with her once, but that was enough for her to become his enemy. So, he's not sure what exactly she'll do. He just knows it's not good.
Transcript
ANTONIO: We’ll wait for the rest of the team in the meeting room.
DANIELA: Yeah it was starting to feel crowded outside! It’s nice that Dulce has that many loved ones, though.
ANTONIO: It is sweet.
ANTONIO: Fuck...
DANIELA: What happened???
[Antonio and Daniela whisper.]
ANTONIO: What is she doing here?
DANIELA: Isabela? I thought we were up against another lawyer.
[Antonio and Daniela whisper.]
DANIELA: What do we do? She plays dirty. We didn’t expect her.
ANTONIO: Don’t engage with them. Act normal.
[Antonio and Daniela whisper.]
ANTONIO: Part of their plan must be to throw us off. They want us to panic and change our strategy.
ISABELA: Well, if it isn’t Antonio Romero and his poor excuse of a paralegal.
ANTONIO: We’re not interested in chit-chatting.
ISABELA: Don’t be like that. Rivalry is supposed to be playful fun, is it not?
[Isabela and Caruso forcefully make their way towards them.]
ISABELA: Why are you standing in front of her like that? We’re not going to do anything.
CARUSO: Say, how has Alegría been? Knowing her, she’s probably all over you, huh? She loves bad ideas like those.
ANTONIO: That would be highly unprofessional and a violation of the legal ethics. She is my client and nothing more. Please refrain from saying such nonsense.
ISABELA: I hope that’s true for your sake. It’d be a shame if your license got revoked for sleeping with a client. Don’t let anybody find out!
DANIELA: Where’s your paralegal anyway? Or did they quit because nobody can stand working with you?
ISABELA: Honey, I don’t need one. I can do it all on my own. Remember, I didn’t have one when I absolutely crushed Antonio in that one case.
ANTONIO: If you can “do it all alone”, go ahead and spare the poor soul who put the ring on your finger.
[Dulce walks in and overhears.]
ISABELA: [Chuckles] You can’t offend me. Come along, Caruso. I think we are done here.
CARUSO: We’ll see you inside.
DULCE: Why did he comment on the ring? Have they dated before?
ANTONIO: He found my arch nemesis. How does he keep discovering such information?
DANIELA: He probably uses a private investigator. The same one who he hired to find his mom.
#okay now we begin tmr 😼#i think i gave a few tricks and treats today hehe 🎃#also yes that is a table in the wall behind caruso.......... i thought it was a fancy wall decoration LOL#what happened to not engaging 🤨#oc mlt: antonio romero#oc mlt: daniela maravilla#oc mlt: caruso#oc mlt: isabela campos#dulce alegria#tjolc gen 2#alegria legacy#matchalovertrait#tjol challenge#sims 4#ts4#the sims 4#tjolc#sims#sims 4 legacy
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A Perfect Ten - Part 3
Josh x Female reader
13.5k words
+ After befriending your coworker Josh at your new workplace, the both of you realize you need each other in more ways than one. Things might get a little cloudy as an ongoing judge of actions takes place, leaving the both of you wrapped up in a back and forth neither of you saw coming
Warnings: Mention of Drinking, Cursing, Mention of Breakups and Heartbreak, Sadness, Lying, Fluff. Smut: Kissing, Touching, Dirty Talk, Praise, Flirting, Oral F!receiving, Fingering, Unprotected Penetrative Sex.
A/N: Thanks for sticking it out to the end! I appreciate everyone's interest in this, and all of your kind messages of encouragement! This was such a fun little story to explore, and I hope you love the conclusion :)
Five weeks.
It’d been over five long, hard, confusing, delicious weeks of Josh wrapping himself up in you, and you in him, the both of you using the other for paramount physical satisfaction that wasn’t comparable to any other partner either of you had ever had. Not every night had been spent together, but more often than not, you found yourself waking up to him bringing you a mug of coffee in bed before he scurried off to the shower to get ready for the day.
Since neither of you ever had to be at work until around 11AM, you never overstayed your welcome, making your way out of his bed and out the door before you could finish off the last few drops. You never hung around, but then again, he never asked you to.
That promise he made you on his porch that night as his fingers were buried deep inside you was yet to be fulfilled, though… each of you switching off coming up with some excuse to not go all the way. You’d been burdened with a plethora of intertwined and overlapping thoughts, most of them so intense that you would daze out during the day, tuning out your customers’ orders as they ran them off to you. Your mind felt as if it was a mess of tangled wires, each one connected to something different or not connected to anything at all as you tried your damndest to sort through them, unwinding a few at a time only for them to tangle and jumble up again.
You liked Josh. Actually, you really liked him.
But though the two of you have ravished each other’s bodies in nearly every single way but the one that you yearned for most, you still can’t bring yourself to ask him why. Why he won’t show his feelings toward you in what you consider the most important way there is.
“We’re friends, Y/N, nothing more…”
His words still rang in the back of your head, and you’d been fighting off your mental demons of pure desperation since he said them. Though, you repeat the same ones back to him all the time. It was only weeks ago that Josh told you that he was having a harder and harder time telling you no, and you wondered if you outright asked him to love you in the way that you wanted, maybe he would.
But, you didn’t want to do anything that he didn’t want to do, and you didn’t want to give yourself to him in a way in which he wouldn’t want you. It hurt, it truly did, but you’d used the excuse of if he wanted to, he would to make yourself feel better for far too long, now.
Honestly, you were starting to get kind of pissed. The sexual frustration had begun to weigh on your needs. Neither of you had ever really discussed being exclusive, even if it was just a friends with benefits type situation, but then again you never saw or heard any evidence of him hooking up with anyone else. So, you played the cards as they lied.
Some nights, after one too many after-work drinks at the bar, you’d muster up the courage to ask him, but you always fell short, bargaining that any attention from him was better than none… So you’d cut your losses and let him walk you back to his place, dancing in the kitchen with one another until, inevitably, your clothes were tumbling to the floor yet again, and the escapades would ensue.
You still craved his attention, that part of the deal never left. An overwhelming need to feed his ego, be the only one his sights were set on, at all times. It was toxic, and you knew that… Every little bit of attention he gave to someone else made your blood burn and your face redden with an envy you had yet to experience with anyone else. If you couldn’t give Josh everything that he needed, why could someone else? You knew exactly what he liked…
…Then the voices in your head would return, scolding you for acting and thinking in such a manner toward a man that claims no part of you, other than making you unravel for him night after night as your legs spread wide for his tongue to explore.
So, you sucked it up, working your fingers to the bone every night slinging pizzas, refilling beers, and not-so-subtly flirting with Josh in the interim. No other men caught and held your attention anymore. None of any substance, at least. You wondered if the reason for that was because of the fake wall you’d built up to stop anyone else from trying to ruin your chance with Josh.
On one particularly slow night, you and your coworker Jamie were rolling piles upon piles of silverware, doing anything you could to fill the time and keep your hands busy until the next table were to roll in. Jamie was newer and very sweet, and you noticed that she had begun to get a little more personable with you as she became comfortable in her position.
“So, I heard that Josh turned down that assistant manager's position again, why would he do that? He would be so absolutely perfect for the job…” she pestered, curious as to why someone like him would deny himself a promotion.
You took a breath. “I know, I agree. I tried to get him to take it but, his argument is that he’s comfortable doing what he’s doing. Making the money that he does without the extra headache and responsibility.”
She clicked her tongue. “Guess I can’t blame him. Managerial positions aren’t for everyone. Hey, maybe they’ll offer it to you!” Her perkiness and over the top energy sometimes made your teeth hurt with sweetness, but you knew she meant well… so you thought, so far.
“Aha, no,” you laughed. “I haven’t been here long enough yet.” You stood from the barstool you were sitting on and grabbed up the basket of silverware, heading off to the kitchen to do a swap for freshly washed ones.
“Where is he, anyway? I haven’t seen him in a couple days,” Jamie said as you popped back through the swinging doors. “Not that I noticed or anything, I know you guys hang out a lot…”
Her tone made your stomach turn over, but you tried to ignore it. “He uh, he left town for a few days, visiting some family up North while we have a slow month.”
You lied. You lied right through your teeth.
The smile on Jamie’s face was wide. “Oh! That’s nice. I just noticed it’s really quiet around here without him always cracking jokes and stuff, ya know? Without him picking on me and purposefully trying to teach me the wrong things all the time,” her high pitched giggles made you want to throw this stack of napkins right at her face.
“The wrong things?” you questioned, your eyes heavy on her.
“Yeah, last week he tried to tell me the Peppadew pizza didn’t have any peppers on it, and that caramelized onions have actual caramel on them… I know better, but it was sweet he’s trying to trip me up, ya know? Like he’s testing me. Keeping me on my toes. And then when he offered to do my side work when I had to leave early for an appointment…just a really great guy, ya know?”
You swore to god, if she said ‘ya know?’ one more fucking time…
“Yeah, he’s a really great guy…” you mumbled, roughly twisting the silvers tightly into the napkin. You felt as though there was smoke coming from your ears, and your head was about to blow at any second. Had he been flirting with her? In the exact same ways that he flirted with you when you first started?
“Oh, and…this is kind of embarrassing but…I cried last Saturday night in the walk-in after my shift. I’d had a rough night, got stiffed by a table and spilled a beer in my shoes, Heather yelled at me and I just…anyway, Josh let me cry on him in there, dried my stupid tears. Really made me feel better, ya know? Told me everyone has those nights and I was a really great server. He even invited me out to the bar after closing. He made me feel so much better about it all.”
He…fucking…what?
The one night you decided to let someone switch you shifts…
“Did you go?” you blurted out a little too quickly.
“Oh, where, to the bar?”
“Yes Jamie, to the bar. Did you go with him?” you growled.
Her nonchalance was really making you sick. “Oh, I started to, but then I decided against it. Josh walked me to my car and I went home and had a self care night. Those really are the best, ya know?”
“He walked you to your car?” you asked, your words spewing like wildfire now as you felt your blood boiling.
“Yeah he uh, said he wanted to make sure I was safe… Y/N, you guys aren’t like, together are you? I mean I know you guys are close friends but if you’re anything more, I can back off…”
“No,” you cut her off. “No, we’re not together.” You grit your teeth as your fingers continued to roll, your ears nearly deaf with rage.
“Are you sure?” she meekly asked.
“Positive!” you smiled a fake smile. “We’re…really close friends. Nothing more…” The words burned coming from your mouth, the same sentence you’d reiterated to yourself time and time again the past few weeks now being spoken into the air, and feeling more real than ever. Nothing more. Nothing ever more.
“Oh good! So then… I guess you won’t care if I take him up on his invitation to go to the bar, if he ever asks again? He’s just so sweet and I…kind of wouldn’t mind hanging out outside of wor—“
“No Jamie, I don’t mind. Actually, I don’t mind at all. I’m sure he’d love your company at the bar. He does this with every new hire, I’m sure he’s just breaking you in.” You knew it was wrong, but you somehow couldn’t stop yourself…
“Breaking me in?” she cowered.
“Oh yeah,” you emphasized your words, making them sound as petty and condescending as possible. “Hot new chick comes to work here, he catches them up in a hot and heavy situationship, leads them along until he gets what he wants, then he disappears from their lives, dropping them like little stray kittens when new fresh meat comes along. Dick move, really. Happens all the time, he’s known for it. Didn’t…didn’t anyone tell you that?” you ask. Fuck, this was so wrong. You’ve lied to her twice now.
“Oh, shit, no…no one has said anything about that. Does…does he really do that with every new person that comes along?”
“Yep! I’ve seen it a few times myself. He’ll break your heart faster than you can learn the secret menu, babe. Sorry to burst your bubble.” Her face fell as she blushed, definitely surprised at your fake story and taking it all for truth. “But I mean, if you’re into that kind of thing, then by all means…go to the bar with him.”
You could tell that Jamie wasn’t the type to be out looking for a hookup. She was the long term relationship type, you could tell that much just from her demeanor and a quick scroll of her instagram feed. You knew this fabricated story would turn her completely away from Josh, or at least, this new light you’d painted him in.
You watched as she slipped her hair behind her ear, trying to swallow back the news you’d just bombed her with. “Ah, I’ll see. Maybe sometime I will,” she smiled, quickly turning her charm back on as you both heard the ding of the front door opening, signaling new customers. “My turn!” Her smile was as fake as the story you’d just made up, but you thought it was more out of necessity than kindness. And you suddenly felt fucking awful.
Every single thing she’d just told you Josh did for her, was something that any gentleman would do, any nice person would do to make a new hire feel at home and welcomed. Of course he flirted with her, he’s a natural-born. Of course he walked her to her car late at night, and of course he invited her out to the bar so she wouldn’t feel left out when the group left together. And you just painted him in a light so horrible that even you wouldn’t want to hang out with him.
Not to mention the lie you told before this one, that he was up North visiting family for the next few days. Truth be told, Josh called you one morning you were both off work and told you he would be back in a few days, that he had something he needed to take care of and he wouldn’t have cell service. He didn’t give any details, but you didn’t feel it was your place to really ask any, either.
You’d made sure everything was alright, and asked if he needed you for anything while he was gone, but when he assured you everything was okay and hung up the phone more quickly than you could even give him a proper goodbye, you knew something was up. But what it was, you were completely unsure of.
Of course you and Josh weren’t the type to text all day, day in and day out…you each gave each other space to live your own lives and do what the other pleased as far as daily activities, but you were confident in the fact that you knew where he was at any given time of day, and he you. It wasn’t ever expected, it’s just how it always was. Especially since you both worked nearly the same schedule.
But something about that phone call felt wrong. It felt like he was withholding something, cutting your sentences off and not giving you much of anything, at all. Your senses told you that something was most definitely up.
An intense retrospective dissociation that night after your conversation with Jamie had you replaying the few days leading up to Josh leaving town, thinking back on every little detail and wondering if you had overstepped your agreement with Josh. Made him feel uncomfortable or upset for any reason, but you really couldn’t think of a thing. You knew your thoughts about your relationship felt toxic in your mind, but that’s where they stayed, locked away tight. You never really voiced your concerns with him, trying to keep things as light as possible while you all but suffered internally.
You fell asleep that night cold and alone, hugging a pillow between your arms while you wished it was Josh hugging you back.
•••
Just when you thought things couldn’t get worse, the rainstorm that had begun falling on you a few days ago had now turned into a full on downpour.
You’d come into your shift that Friday morning, finding Josh had made it in well before you even parked your car. It was strange of him, as he always clocked in at the exact turn of the hour, no matter what. You tried to keep positive as you made the trek inside, thinking that maybe he’d gotten busy with unpacking when he’d arrived back home and forgot to call you, or maybe he’d re-thought his decision on the assistant manager position and had come to talk to Heather about it. Either way, you were excited to see his face again.
“Morning, sunshine!” you sang into his ear when you found him on the patio, filling up the Parmesan cheese shakers. “You’re here awfully early, you go off and have a meeting with a life coach, or something?” Maybe playful teasing will break through the ice he had in his voice on that dreadful phone call the other day.
“Morning,” he said, his voice fallen and a bit defeated. You paused, waiting for him to add some snide remark in his defense to make you laugh, but he didn’t. He just continued on with his task.
You walked up beside him, grabbing a few stray menus from the cabinet and straightening them up. “You uh, have a good trip?”
“Yeah, was fine,” he replied, his voice chipper, but his eyes still looking at anything but you. Completely out of character.
You leaned down on your elbows to look up at him from below, hoping that you’d catch his eyes. “Missed you, wasn’t the same without you here…” you cooed, earning nothing more than a tight-lipped grin from him as he tightened the lid on the last shaker.
“Yeah, ditto,” he said, grabbing the tray of shakers up and backing his way back into the restaurant.
What the fuck? Shit, had Jamie gotten to him and told him what you’d said? That had to be it, there was no other explanation for his odd behavior. How the fuck were you going to fix this?
You held back from him for the rest of the shift, giving him a little room and meeting the same energy he’d been giving you all day. You tried talking to him a handful of times, with each encounter feeling more and more forced than the last. You’d speak, and he’d respond, but his attitude toward you was nothing like the real him, and more than anything, it began to worry you that something else was up, and your gut wasn’t lying to you at all.
The shift came and went in a flurry, time passing by in the blink of an eye before shift change hit you in the face. Jamie was replacing you in your section, and you hated to leave it full and not collect your tips, but you really felt as though you needed to get out of this place as soon as possible, and a little good karma wouldn’t be a bad thing to strive for, right now.
So you transferred every single table to her, much to her overjoyed surprise, and you got to work counting your checks and tips before you could clock out and have an evening free to get away from the awkwardness that had become Angelo’s Pizza.
You could hardly even face Josh by the end of the day, things felt so tense that you could cut the air with a knife, and you didn’t like it one fucking bit.
“I’m going to the bar tonight, with Josh and everyone,” Jamie whispered in your ear as she came up behind you as you finished your sidework..
“Oh, you are?” you asked, surprised that Josh hadn’t asked you to go, and that he was going at all, given he worked a lunch shift.
“Mhm, I asked if he was going out tonight, and he said he’d see me there. I just wanted to say thanks, for the warning about him, but I think I’m gonna give it a go, see what happens,” she said, excitement filling her voice as she bit into a staff pizza slice.
“Ah well, good luck to you, I hope it works in your favor, babe.” You throw on a genuine smile, wanting more to shove her into the dish pit than encourage her any further.
Much to your surprise, you met Josh inadvertently at the lockers as you were leaving, taking his order pad and pens out of his apron before dispensing it in the dirty hamper to be washed. You cleared your throat as you put your combination into your lock, accepting the fact that he just…didn’t want to talk to you.
It was silent for a few seconds as the two of you did your own things before you slammed your door shut, making him startle where he stood.
“Can I uh, walk you to your car, Y/N?” he asked quietly, his gaze still trying its best to avoid you without being rude.
“It’s 4:30 in the afternoon, Josh. It’s not even dark yet,” you replied, regretting your tone as soon as the words left you. You watched his face fall even more. “I—sure, yes. I’m sorry, I’d love for you to walk me,” you agreed, feeling anxious and uneasy already. Things felt so out of place.
The two of you waltzed out the back door and into the light of the evening, walking fairly quickly to your car parked on the side lot. “Things busy while I was gone?” he broke through the silence.
“No,” you breathed, pulling your keys from your purse. “Really slow, actually. Made maybe $275 the whole time you were gone.”
“Yikes, picked a good time to leave, then,” he joked, pulling his arm behind his head. The two of you stood in silence again, what normally would be flirtatious hugs and teasing kisses had been replaced by uneasy stares and forced small talk, and you felt as though you could crumble at the loss of the feeling of him. His once warm and inviting persona has suddenly been replaced with an ice cold stare and a stoic stance.
“Are you sure everything is okay, Josh?” you pressed again, scared stiff to hear his reply as he couldn’t walk away from you, now.
His honey brown eyes glistened in the sunlight as you watched him bite his lips in, pondering on his words before he said them. “Yeah, everything’s fine, Y/N. Swear.”
“You promise?” you asked as you poked his shoulder, hoping teasing him a little would jog the awkwardness away.
“Promise.”
“Okay…then, you wanna come over this evening? Have a beer? I have a frozen calzone I'm gonna throw in the oven…” you tried again.
His eyes darted sideways as he bit his lip in again, his hand uncomfortable as it rubbed the back of his neck. “I um, think I’m gonna stay in tonight, pretty tired from driving. Gonna catch up on some z’s,” he said, his tone completely unconvincing. What the hell…he just lied to you. He’s going to the bar…
You try your best to cover up your surely shocked expression. “Sure yeah, I should uh, probably do that too…” you said as you began backing away from him, aggravated tears threatening your eyes. “I’ll see you later, thanks for walking me.”
You unlocked your car and hopped into the driver’s seat, quickly finding the ignition as you held your breath and stopped every single emotion from making its way to your face. He couldn’t see you cry…
You didn’t even bother looking back at him as you pulled out of your spot, knowing that a simple glance at him would have you losing it right there in the parking lot. You could feel his eyes on you, though, watching as you threw it in drive and made your exit quick.
The road home from Angelo’s was packed with traffic, cars filling nearly every street spot as families and locals alike started to fill the town for the weekend. Your hands gripped hard at the top of the steering wheel as you were carefully watching for pedestrians, the same burning tears fighting their way through the closer to home you became. Your chest was tight and your palms were sweaty, what in the world is happening? Where has your sweet Josh gone?
Maybe the false story you’d made up and told Jamie was actually closer to the truth than you realized, maybe you were just another pawn in Josh’s game until someone new came along. Maybe he really does do this to everyone, and you just hadn’t had anyone to warn you..
You couldn’t hold the tears back any longer, letting them finally fall freely as you neared your driveway. You choked out powerful sobs, your eyes throbbing and your throat tight as you let yourself mourn what felt to be the loss of not only an amazing lover, but one of your very best friends. You whipped your car into the parking spot and shut it off, giving yourself a second to wipe your tears before one of your neighbors caught you in this fucking fit of tears and sobs.
You felt idiotic, thrashing yourself down into your bed after kicking your shoes off to fall to the floor, letting yourself be overcome with sorrow. And more so, a lingering guilt that you’d done something so wrong that he went from being the one you spoke to the most in this world, to turning you away completely. It was so sudden that you felt like you had whiplash.
After an hour long cry, you dragged yourself up out of your bed and to the bathroom, stripping away the clothes that held pizza dust and beer to hop into the shower. Hot showers always bring about wisdom, so you made sure to turn the knob to nearly scalding.
As you let the water flow over your hair and onto your face, the picture on the backs of your eyelids was nothing but Josh… His curls, his chocolate eyes, his perfect smile and the way it gave you butterflies… You aren’t incorrect in confidently saying that your crush on him is more than just that, that your feelings have developed into something a bit more serious. More than what you would call just friends.
Maybe you should just call him. Force it out of him… Maybe you should show up to the bar tonight, and act like nothing in the world is wrong. Or maybe you should just get back under the covers and have that whole calzone to yourself. All the options sound feasible, but then your mind suggests that you turn the tables. What would Josh do if the roles were reversed?
He’d probably call you up, and when you didn’t answer the first time, he’d call again, letting the tone ring until you either sent him to voicemail or picked up. Then he’d tell you he was bringing snacks and wine over, and you were going to sit with him and explain what’s going on, just like any good friend would do. No questions asked. Josh was a private man, but that still didn’t stop him from loving those who surrounded him unconditionally. And, as far as you were concerned, you were one of those people. And you deserved to know what the hell is going on with him, especially if you had any intention of helping him fix it.
So, as you stepped out of the shower and wrapped yourself in your towels, you decided on doing just that. You grabbed up your phone and opened your text thread with Josh, seeing that the multiple memes and funny videos you’d sent him over the last few days had gone unreplied to, sitting there on read in your texts as if he hadn’t even seen them at all. You ignore it, instead typing up a rather happy message that laid a few things out, seeing if it will bait him to finally respond.
You: Starting Friends over from season 1, going to see if I’m still Team Joey after this go around. This calzone and wine won’t taste the same without you, but I hope you’re catching up on that sleep you missed out on. Would love to hear about your trip, if you want. The invitation to join me still stands💘
You watched as the message turned to delivered, and you tossed the phone back onto the counter as you awaited hearing the buzz of a reply. You got dressed and dried your hair, realizing that the bar simply wasn’t in the cards tonight, there was no way you’d get the swelling to go down around your eyes from all the crying, anyway.
If there was anything you’d learned in the past few days, was that your feelings for Josh weren’t unwarranted, and they most definitely were real. Fuck, you cried over the guy. You haven’t cried over someone in years, let alone let yourself mope just because he wasn’t giving you the attention they normally did. It felt childish, and it felt a little silly, but the overflow of emotions set in stone that you really did care for him.
But now, a couple of hours after the text sent through and your calzone sat half-eaten on the stove, you realize that maybe he isn’t going to take you up on the offer to talk, and you’re going to have to finish your bottle of wine by yourself.
•••
You woke up the next morning on the couch, tangled in a blanket with Friends still playing on your TV. You glance at the time seeing it is only 9:00, and you have all day to hang around before your shift at 4. Your notifications were plentiful, so you wiped the sleep from your eyes and let them adjust to the bright screen.
A few emails and Facebook nonsense, but there at the bottom is a text from Jamie, and a notification from Josh.
Jamie: Hey girl, things are going great at the bar, just wanted to say thanks for being real with me. 💋 I’ll let you know how the night ends…
All Josh had done was reacted to your text with a heart. Of course.
Ya know what…
You shot up off the couch, dizzy from getting up too fast, but more than anything, rightly pissed the hell off. You were over it, over trying, over trying to be gentle with approaching the situation in a way that you thought might push Josh away even more. Fuck it, he didn’t want to talk to you, you didn’t want to talk to him. He wanted to lie to you and go to the bar with someone else, fine. All you ever wanted was his time and attention, and apparently all he ever wanted from you was a piece of ass. And hell, he never even got that.
Whatever. You’re over it. You’re going to get a coffee, throw on the perfume that Josh used to love, and walk into your shift with him with a newfound charisma. You didn’t need this shit. All it was doing was giving you wrinkles and a reason to drink.
•••
A week passed, the shifts with Jamie and Josh being anything but friendly since you had decided that there was nothing there with him anymore, nothing that should hold your interest enough to put you through that much emotional turmoil day in and day out. So you found other things and other people to occupy your time at work, making closer friends with the kitchen staff and a few of the other servers and hanging out with them on your nightly trips to the bar.
It still hurt, and you knew that fake wall you had built was still entirely intact, a protective barrier to save yourself from impending heartbreak even worse than you’d already had because of Josh. But you knew you’d built it out of sticks and mud instead of brick, and you were worried that it would come tumbling down at the first instance of Josh showing you any interest again. He had become addictive like that, but you were strong, realizing your self-worth after you’d given yourself a few days to marinate in your sadness.
Josh’s cold shoulder stayed cold for the first few days after your epiphany, but eased up just a little the day that he asked you if you were going to the bar after a really busy night shift.
“Probably. Why?” you responded coldly.
He shrugged as the two of you stood at the expo window. “Just wondering. You don’t really ever fill the barstool beside me anymore.”
You shot your head sideways to look at him head on, eyebrows cocked with a completely flabbergasted expression.
“You’re joking, right?” you exclaimed as two pepperonis were set in the window. “That’s because you have Little Miss taking her spot in it most nights now, Josh. Don’t put that weird blame shit on me.”
“Blame shit? You have just as much right to sit there as she does,” he replied, throwing you for a loop again. He hadn’t spoken to you this much in what felt like weeks.
You turned to him fully, coming into his space as you realized you were not backing down. “You haven’t spoken to me in days, Josh. Literally ignored me at every turn, ignored my texts and my invitations to talk, you give me the cold shoulder every day…and I still have no fucking clue as to why. I thought our friendship meant more to you than that. So no, I don’t have a right to that barstool anymore, for all I know as soon as I sat down you’d get up and leave, anyway.” You gripped both the hot pizzas in your hands after stabbing the check, racing off as you left him in the dust.
Fuck that. He wants to talk now? After all this time? No. And not like this.
If he wanted to talk, he could come to you when you both were off the clock. Lord knows you were ready to hear his side of things.
•••
You didn’t go to the bar that night. In fact, you went straight home, contemplating taking up TJ’s offer to go out for a drive and smoke. TJ was cool, and really good company, even being the professional stoner that he was. He never made you feel like he wanted anything more than just to cruise around and listen to music, always tossing you a few prerolleds before he dropped you back off at your place.
But just as you were about to respond to his text with an “OK, be ready in ten”, you heard a car pull up in your driveway. “Damnit TJ, I’m not nearly ready to leave, yet,” you whispered to yourself as you peeked through your living room curtain. You were still in nothing but your sports bra and panties.
But it wasn’t TJ. It was Josh.
And his car door was slamming, and he was barrelling toward your front door. What the fuck?
Within seconds, he was banging a fist on the door, yelling your name as if his life depended on it. “Y/N! Hey, answer the door!”
You thought that something may be wrong, so you quickly wrapped your robe around you and darted for the door, unlocking the deadbolt quickly as you began to panic. You thrust the door open quickly, revealing a very pissed off Josh.
“Hey, what’s wrong? Are you okay?” you asked as he pushed past you and into the room.
He was pacing around, his hands unknowing of where to land as they ran through his hair, and sat on his hips before rising again to run over his face. “No, I’m not really okay, Y/N… Do you wanna tell me what you’ve been telling people at work about me? Hm? The absolute fucking lies you’re spreading?”
Fuck. You swallowed hard, walking closer to him as you placed your hands gently on his arm.
“Josh, sit down, I think we can talk abo–”
“No, I don’t want to sit down, Y/N! Why are you making things up about me? Telling people I’m a serial douchebag? That I go after every new hire and dangle them around until someone new comes along? I’m not–I don’t do that, Y/N! That’s not me at all!” he yells, and you know that you’d fucked up. You could feel the rage that you had begun to suppress rising back up in your chest now that he had brought everything to the surface again.
You stepped back, crossing your arms defensively across your chest. You decided to speak slowly and calmly, hoping that it would bring him down a few notches so that you really could talk civilly.
“Josh, honey, I know that I may have said some bad things, some untrue things. And I shouldn’t have done that, I shouldn’t have made up those lies, and I especially shouldn’t have told them to someone as impressionable as Jamie. And I’m so, so sorry about that. But… honestly Josh, I think I might be starting to believe my own lie, it feels more and more like reality as the days go on… don’t you think?”
He shook his head side to side, his cheeks red. “No, what do you even mean? Reality?”
“Josh, you can’t tell me you’re oblivious to what happened to us, come on now. We went from spending nearly every free second together, becoming involved in each other’s lives, and then you go on some mystery trip and come back a whole different person. You ignore me, ice me out, you don’t reply to me anymore or even treat me the same way when you do talk, so yeah, maybe I was just one of those new hires that you dangled along until something shinier and new came along! I’m not stupid, Josh, I’ve begged you to talk to me. Tell me what’s wrong. But you never did, I guess I didn’t mean as much to you as you meant to me. And honestly, it’s fucked up. I deserve better than that.” Your words were spewing, but you meant each and every last one. You got your point across, and said everything you wanted to say. Now the ball was in his court.
Josh stayed silent as you watched his jaw tighten over and over again, the redness in his cheeks paling to a soft pink as he eventually sat down, laying his head in his hands with defeat.
“You’ve got it all wrong, Y/N,” you could barely hear him through his ragged breathing. “All wrong.”
You rushed over to sit beside him on the couch, still feeling that same draw to him no matter how upset and angry you really were. “I’m wrong? Then tell me what the truth is, Josh. I’m right here, I’ve always been ready to listen…”
He paused for a few more seconds before finally sitting up, his eyes watery and puffed as he took a deep breath through his mouth. “I went… I went back home. To my hometown. On my trip, that’s where I was…” he trailed off, pursing his lips. “My ex, he uhm. He’d gotten ahold of me, told me he regretted everything that had happened with us, wanted to meet up and talk it out, see if there was any part of our relationship that could be mended.” He swallowed hard, you knew this was probably hard for him to say out loud. So you placed a comforting hand on his arm again, patting it a few times to let him know you were still listening.
“So we did, we went back home and started where we had left off, talking things out and hearing each other’s side of things for the first time since he left. We were long distance, remember? So things weren’t easy even then, when I thought we were happy. We spent a few days together, very cordially. I spent the nights at my parents’, so he and I usually met for breakfast and then spent the day hiking or… whatever. Giving ourselves ample time to converse. And we did. Uh, we worked through a lot of issues that the both of us had, hang-ups that the other didn’t even know existed at the time.”
Josh turned to finally make eye contact with you, choking back a few stray tears. “And it was good, I thought we got to a really good place. But. The time came for us to have to leave, and… it uh. Really didn’t go as planned, our goodbye. It felt like a real, actual goodbye. Like we’d spent the time together to air our grievances, but all it did was solidify our decision to keep things the way they had ended up. Completely separated.”
Ah. Well, fuck.
“Josh honey, I’m so sorry… that must have been really hard,” you say, feeling so sorrowful for him.
“It wasn’t fun, but I also didn’t go there thinking that one little trip would magically make things good again. I didn’t even really want them to be good again, I just hated leaving things the way we had, hanging by a thread and unsealed like that. Didn’t feel healthy,” he admitted. “I still had things to say.”
He bit his lips in again. “But I realized something the minute I disconnected from him, Y/N…I realized that I’d left you in the exact same predicament that he had left me in. Here, alone, with no explanation of where I had gone. And that hurt me more than anything.” You were surprised, extremely blindsided by this…what? He felt bad for leaving you?
“Josh, I’m confused though, you’ve been back home for days, why have you been icing me out if you felt bad for leaving me like that?” you asked.
“Because, Y/N,” he stood up, “I’ve never had anyone throw me into a mix so horrifyingly perfect as the one you throw me into every single day. Never.”
You placed your hands on the couch beside you. “What? What do you—“
“You scare the ever loving hell out of me, Y/N. You’re—you’re fucking perfect, in every single sense of the word. You’re beautiful, caring, hilarious… You make me feel more seen than any other human I’ve ever met,” he said, standing before you, now. “I’m terrified of you, Y/N.”
Your chest suddenly felt hollow, and your limbs felt heavier than weights. Nothing was making sense…nothing was adding up.
“Then why haven’t you talked to me, Josh? Until right now? If I’m all those things for you, why didn’t you know that you could come to me and explain instead of making me feel so stupid the past few weeks?” you defend yourself. “I missed you, I told you that.”
“Because, Y/N, because… I’m a dumb fucking guy, I guess. I thought if I ignored you, maybe things would go away. Maybe I could lie to myself and say that I was making it all up in my head. I wasn’t ready to move on, Y/N. I wasn’t ready to dive back in again and settle down. You know I hate fucking change. I thought that meeting up with him would distract me from you, I guess. Give me something else to focus on. But it didn’t. It didn’t work at all. It only made me realize how much better you are than he ever was to me. So I needed to push you away, see if I could escape from your fucking chokehold on me instead of just letting myself swim into it. But, I swear to god, these last few days I realized my stupid plan wasn’t working. And I can’t get you out of my head. No matter how hard I fucking try.”
Another bombshell. They just kept fucking falling.
“So then, at the bar tonight, I was trying one last ditch attempt at it. Seeing if I could go one whole night without typing up a reply to you, only to catch myself and erase it again. I needed to see if I could do it. But then, Jamie got too drunk and told me what you said about me, how I tried to swoop in on new hires and take them home, then do nothing but break their hearts. She told me you said I was a real dick, Y/N. Told the rest of the guys about it, too. Had them all starting to believe it. So it pissed me off. I told them that wasn’t true, I’d never treat anyone that way. Told them they could believe what they wanted, but my intentions and my character would never reflect that. Then I left, and here I am. Realizing that I had done that exact thing to you, Y/N. Only with a lot more twists and turns than they were aware of.”
“Josh, I never meant for that rumor to take hold, or spread…I—I was so upset, so jealous that she was going after you, and you were giving her the attention. I was stupid, and I regret it. I promise tomorrow I will make it all right. I’ll tell everyone I made it up,” you tell him, your words holding truth. You did feel shitty about it.
“I’m sorry, Y/N,” Josh finally muttered after a few seconds of silence. “I have no excuses as to why I treated you that way, other than saying that I made a really dumb decision. You deserved better than that, but I also deserve to not have lies made up about me and my integrity.”
You nodded, tears starting to fall from your eyes, too. “I know, Josh. I’ll fix it. I’ll fix it.”
You feel his hand come up to catch the tear before it falls, the gentle contact feeling like a hundred lives of love. “I’ll fix it too, Y/N. I promise, I will. I missed you, I missed you so bad,” he said, finally wrapping his arms all the way around your neck, pulling you into him in the warmest embrace you’d felt in ages, finally breaking through the ice and back into his swirling mix of happy and sweet.
“I missed you too, Josh. Please believe me…I hated this separation from you, it didn’t feel right.”
“I know, it didn’t feel right to me either. Do you know how hard it was to stay away from you like that?” he said, his voice choking into your shoulder as you held each other.
“No one forced you to do that, Josh,” you said, pulling away to look at him. “You’re right, you made a dumb fucking guy decision, you know that you could have talked to me about it, you know that if you wanted our relationship to move into something else, I would have been ready to do so however you wanted. I never would have guilted you or pulled you into something that we both didn’t think was right.”
“I know. I know I know. I can see that, now. Now that you held a mirror up in front of my face,” he laughed a little.
A silence fell between the two of you as you both sat in your guilt, realizing your faults on all ends of the spectrum. Neither of you had made good, conscious decisions, but at least neither of you were too proud to admit to it and finally take the responsibility.
Finally, you gathered the courage to ask… the real root of what could have been giving you a hint to this all along.
“Is that why you won’t sleep with me?” you asked, your voice small and quiet.
The emotion that came over his features nearly broke you in two, his eyes falling and his mouth puckering up into the most pitiful pout. He took a quick breath, and your hands in his, his shoulders slumping forward as he gathered his own courage to answer.
“I think so…” He trailed off, his expression suddenly looking like his mind was racing with recognition of his innermost thoughts. “I actually… Probably so. I don’t think I have ever consciously decided that…” his eyes were scanning and darting around as if his mouth couldn’t keep up with his mind. “I want you, Y/N, I hope to god that you know that. I have wanted that with you for a long, long time. That shared experience. I guess I… had some type of wall built up, some kind of false narrative in my head that once we crossed that threshold, there wouldn’t be any looking back. Our fate would be sealed.”
You grinned, “Josh, baby, that’s ridiculous.”
“Ugh, I know,” he huffed. “But is it really, though? Sex can be just as mental for men as it is for women, trust me,” he explained.
“I’m sure, I’m sure,” you nodded.
“I guess I thought that if… If I had you like that, then my feelings would somehow be locked in, and I just…”
“You weren’t ready for that,” you replied.
He shook his head slowly, side to side as he eyed you again with pity. “Guess I really wasn’t. But, spending that time back home with him felt so… I dunno, bleak? Like we were both faking it to appease the other. I don’t hate him, and I think that’s mutual…we just needed to realize that maybe we aren’t what each other needed anymore so that we could both move forward in our lives. On to better things.”
“That makes sense,” you nodded in return. “I totally get that.”
Another silence fell on the both of you as you relaxed back onto your couch, re-covering yourself with the robe you’d thrown on. Josh mimicked your action, the back of his neck hitting the plush cushions of your couch as he fell back with a huff. “So, what now?”
You shrugged, not having much of a clue seeing as how the two of you hadn’t spoken this much in weeks. Your heart was still torn to shreds, feeling beaten down and kicked around after enduring so much time of tension. But for Josh, you knew you would find the patience somewhere. You just hoped he would do the same for you.
“Can we just sit?” he asked, leaning down to untie his shoelaces.
“You’re not gonna go back to the bar?” you asked, thrown off yet again. Even after the conversation, it still felt like he was distant.
He scrunched up his face in distaste as he tossed his shoes into the corner, pulling the blanket down off the back of your couch. “No, was kinda lame there tonight. Plus I really like Jamie, but if she said the phrase ‘ya know’ to me one more time…”
You grunted a laugh, knowing exactly what he was talking about. “Ah come on Josh, she’s sweet,” you said cheekily as he pulled the blanket over to cover your legs.
“Never said she wasn’t sweet. She just… thinks our work friendship is going to turn into something else, and it’s just not. I was just trying to be the nice guy, ya know?”
You playfully slapped him across the arm as the two of you leaned back into the cushions, fully facing one another now as you scooted yourself closer to him. His warmth. His hand habitually gripping both of your bent knees onto his lap.
“You are the nice guy, Josh. That’s what I love about you. You made me feel comfortable there before anyone else did. And you were just doing the same for Jamie,” you explained, all the while knowing that from the outside looking in, it truly really might’ve looked like Josh was a serial douche bag. “I’m just glad you really aren’t what I made you out to be.”
“No, m’not,” he breathed, looking across the room blindly. “I swear, I never expected to fall for you so hard, Y/N. I really missed our times, I’m sorry I wasn’t here to keep them going. Keep you happy.”
You let your hand fall to the crown of his head, ringing his curls around your fingers mindlessly as your mind rushed with how you normally used to spend these nights, wrapped up in each other so explicitly that you sometimes wondered if you’d ever tire of one another. Now you know that you wouldn’t have. Your pull to him was powerful and so intense that when the cable was cut you were positive you’d gone blind, wandering around without your muse to keep your mind at ease. His hand was drifting up and down your barren leg, now, sending a shiver through you that you hoped he didn’t catch on to.
“S’okay, Josh. I’m sorry, too. It’s been lonely without you.” You leaned your forehead down toward him, finally breathing him in again for the first time in so long. His scent felt like home.
He exhaled, relaxing his own forehead against yours as his hands hugged you in a little tighter. Just being near him again had you completely forgetting about all the bad things, all the ill feelings that have plagued you these past couple of weeks. Your body was already reacting to his touch, the magnetism toward him gaining strength with each passing second.
“Will you let me come home, Y/N?”
Your heart fell off it’s high horse, tumbling down into the pit of your stomach as you replayed his words in your mind, letting them soak in like peeks of sunshine through the trees. He thought of you as home, too.
“Yeah baby, you can come home,” you breathed, the elation filling you so fully that you couldn’t stop your lips from crashing onto his, your hand curling in his hair and pulling him in close. His deep inhale at the surprise of your actions let you know that he had been wanting this maybe even more than you had, his hand moving from your knees to harshly trailing up your thigh. You pulled away after the quick connection, wanting nothing more than to see the expression on his face after you had made the surprise move.
He grit his teeth as you realized his eyes had gone dark, his lips wet and puffed just from the short, forceful kiss. “Thank god,” he breathed with a rattle, reaching both his hands down to your waist to pick you up with ease, bringing you to straddle your knees across his lap.
“Jo–” you could barely get his name out before he was crashing onto you again, his hands already squeezing tightly at your thighs as you rested your hands on his shoulders. He craned forward, bringing the kiss into something more serious as his tongue began dancing with yours, still burning and sweet with whatever drink he had chosen at the bar before Jamie’s barstool confessional sent him raging mad toward your house.
God, you had fucking missed him so badly. More than you had even noticed, you guessed, as you finally felt the familiar burning touch of his fingertips working their way up your legs to your hips and around to your back as you allowed your robe to fall open. Everything finally felt right again.
Breaking away from his kiss seemed like a sin so wretched that you didn’t dare commit it as the honeyed taste of him ravished your body for the first time in so long. The scene quickly became much more wanting than it was just seconds ago, a mess of flailing hands and arms reaching and grabbing and making up for lost time.
You felt your lungs begin to want to gasp for air, and just as you couldn’t take the lack of oxygen any longer, Josh broke away, his mouth immediately reconnecting to your throat. Your head tilted back on its own as the wetness of his mouth peppered kisses down the length of it, finally landing between your breasts. His hooded eyes peered at you through his thick lashes, the smirk on his face asking you permission to go a little further, so of course you nodded. Is hands gripped the cups of your sports bra, freeing your tits of their confines as he pressed his face lovingly between them, his tongue drifting across one and to the other as he lightly teased your nipples.
You giggled at the touch, feeling giddy and tickled as he switched between light nips and harsh kisses, praising one of his favorite parts of your body that he had so missed. His hands didn’t forget their places on your hips, jerking you forward to press against him as you straddled. Your legs spread a bit wider as pleasure began overtaking your mindset instead of it reeling itself to death. Excitement was soon overtaken by something much more sinister. You could feel him hard beneath you, as you so often did, and you wondered if things were leading toward something else tonight.
You wouldn’t hold it against him if not, knowing that things are still touchy and probably a bit filtered for him. And for you. But also, if you started to see things going in that direction, you most definitely wouldn’t say no.
Your body rolled into him, instantly pushing your core down onto him in search of furthering it’s own pleasure. He moaned at the feeling, jerking his hips up as you began to grind a little. You wouldn’t know that he was falling in love with not only the visual of you on top of him…with only the barrier of his jeans and your underwear making the disconnect that he had so desperately wanted to fulfill, but he was also falling in love with the feeling of the essence of you. Your absence from one another had forced him into a rut he didn’t even know he was in, looking for distractions and diversions to take his mind elsewhere… anything to get the vision of your face from his mind while he figured himself out.
But at least he made the admission. It had lifted a weight off of him that he hadn’t realized was forcing him down into the ground like heavy gravity, the guilt of leaving you in the dust because of his own disposition making him feel like shit. So he decided to seize it, not letting one more second pass that didn’t include you, his one and only stimulation in life. In only the span of a couple of weeks, he’d learned what life felt like without you in it, and he’d be damned if he went any further without living each and every second enraptured in your goodness.
“Fuck, I missed you…” Josh mumbled as he pulled you to him, whispering in your ear as he trailed kisses down the column of your neck. “I’m so sorry baby, this is where I belong, I swear to god it is…”
With his words, you grinded down harder onto him, your hands tangled in his hair and massaging on his shoulders as you pressed yourself harder. “Mmm,” you agreed, the tiniest whimper falling from your lips as he bit down a little on your right nipple. “I missed you more… Missed this the most…” you admitted through already clouded visions of what was to come next.
Within seconds Josh was pulling the shoulders of your robe down, watching as the front tie finally loosened and the fabric pooled around your waist. Josh hissed a harsh growl through his teeth as he pulled back, meeting your eyes with a devilish glare. His jaw tightened hard as his the fingertips of his right hand trailed down your chest and stomach, a barely-there touch that had your body shuddering. Then his fingers landed right on your heat, his middle finger pressing against your clit and making tiny circles over your underwear. You let out a quiet shriek at his touch, laughing through a breath as he ripped your panties to the side, hooking them in his grasp while his thumb finally made contact in the exact place you wanted him.
Your voice was shrill as the pad of his thumb went to work, the pressure and the movement so perfect it was like you hadn’t spent any time apart, at all. Your wrist lazily rested on his shoulder as you closed your eyes, leaning back to give him better access. You felt your neck roll a little as your hips began to swirl on his hand, your wetness already pooling and falling into your panties. “Fuck, Josh…” you moaned, slightly embarrassed by hearing yourself fall apart already.
“Mmmhm… fuck, you don’t know how good it sounds to hear my name like that…” he said, jutting his hips up onto you. He pulled your panties even tighter, letting his middle finger play at your entrance while the rushing of his thumb never stopped. “God you’re already there for me, aren’t you baby? You look so good right here…”
Your sounds quickly turn into desperation as his middle finger presses further inside, the slight stretch making your hand grip onto his shoulder while the other one rests on his knee behind you for stability. Luckily, with the lack of actual sex with Josh, the two of you had become extremely well-versed in the other forms of the act, becoming professionals with pleasing the other in all ways but one. His finger began to pump slowly, working itself inside you as he hooked it and perfectly brushed the most sensitive spot deep inside you. Your mind fuzzed with static as you realized you were near the peak already; how quickly he knew exactly how to get you there.
You wanted more, you wanted all of him, you always had. But you knew better now that to push the issue like you used to. If it was going to happen, it was going to be his decision. You’d bargain that he knew exactly where you stood on the matter.
You felt your teeth digging into your bottom lip as your hips swirled, the pleasure already blinding as you’d gone so long without the touch of his hands. His free hand was still gripping your waist and guiding your movements, pulling you even more harshly against his still-clothed length.
Like he had read your mind, he suddenly stopped, gently pulling himself from you and pushing you backward a little to stand up. The loss of his touch made you want to scream as the delicious buildup was beginning to be too much, anyway. So you stood, willing to go along with whatever it was he wanted, tonight. He stood up as well and undid his belt, letting his pants fall from his waist and onto the floor.
You helped him by jerking at the bottom hem of his shirt, ripping it up over his head and dispensing it on the floor. You’d forgotten just how beautiful he was underneath his clothes, his torso chiseled and arms strong and inviting. His chest was heaving at the sight of you and the mess of the situation, and if you didn’t know any better you’d think that he was unaware the night would end up here, just the same as you were.
Just from the light in his eyes though, you could tell that he didn’t have any regrets. You made the move to push him back down onto the couch, wasting no time in placing your open palm against his length while connecting your mouth with his again. It was like his sweetness had a new air of addiction to it, now that all of your feelings for one another had begun to come uncovered. You hadn’t brushed by the fact that he had admitted his feelings for you were stronger than he’d even noticed, and you were yet to tell him that you had felt the same, all this time.
As he fell back into his seat, letting you take charge this time, you snaked your legs across him again and landed on your knees, craning high above him as your hand never left his length. You kneaded and squeezed, feeling him grow harder and harder as you pleased him, kissing him hard again. He whimpered quietly into your mouth and it nearly sent you back into that same frame of mind again, but you wanted to stay clear-headed.
“You drive me fuckin’ crazy, Josh. You know that?” you smiled onto him, making his eyelashes flutter as he suckled at your bottom lip. “Everything about you.”
“Is that a good thing? Or,” he grinned, his hands finding their place on your hips again.
“It is now,” you crooned. “I was crazy mad before… Crazy sad that you’d iced me out… But before all that I was just crazy into you. Wanted you around all the time, wanted your full attention, wanted you to be able to call me yours and no one else’s.” You weren’t sure where you were going with the admission, but you had to meet him on his level after he’d bared a bit of his soul to you. You leaned down to avoid his eyes just in case he was nervous, and you began lightly digging your teeth into his shoulder as you continued sneaking your hand into his boxer briefs.
“Fuck, Y/N,” he shuddered at your touch, his body crunching in on itself from the contact. “Yes…”
Your hand gripped his shaft and worked its way up his length, and you found that your hand had missed the feeling of him, too. You lightly massaged his tip, making his whole body rush and writhe beneath you. “Feel good, baby? Always wanna make you feel good, missed hearing your sounds…” you said, taking back a little bit of that control to urge him on.
You stayed this way for another minute or so, working him up just as he had done for you. He was already impossibly hard in your hand, and you could tell he was nearing that point, his teeth biting into your shoulder and his hand pulling you down to brush against him at every pause in your movement. The both of you had reached points of ferality, your hunger for each other coming back full force.
His hand reached behind you and gripped your ass hard, pulling at the muscle with such tension it almost hurt. But that’s how you knew that he was having a hard time keeping it together. Your heart raced in your chest as you felt his breathing stagger, the closeness and intimacy both teetering on the edge of becoming something more than either of you had bargained for tonight.
“Let’s go… into your bedroom. Let’s go,” he demanded, making moves to lift you from your straddle.
He stood tall with you in his arms, your legs wrapped tightly around him so you didn’t fall.
“Are–Are you sure, Josh?” you asked, halfway knowing that this might be the moment you’ve been waiting for, but also one hundred percent ready to keep taking things slow, no matter how bad your body craved him.
“Positive. I’m tired of this… I want… No, I need you, Y/N,” he explained, making his way toward your bedroom door.
He kicked it closed behind him before dispersing you on the mattress, bouncing a few times as he flicked the light off to darken the room almost completely. All you could see was his perfect silhouette from the ambient light from the window, kicking his boxers all the way off before shifting them to the side. You removed your own bra and tossed it aside as you felt the familiar feeling of him reaching under you to pull you back to the edge of your bed. He ripped your panties off and tossed them away, too, before rubbing his hands along the insides of your thighs, making them fall apart.
“One more taste of you, though,” he growled before connecting his tongue to your soaked core.
“Oh my god, Josh… fuck…” you cried rather loudly as your hands found his locks. You pulled at them without a lick of shyness, wanting him buried between your legs like you had imagined for nights on end during the time spent without him. His tongue jumped into action as he licked up all your wetness, sending himself deeper and deeper inside you, his actions pointed and messy all at the same time.
“Mmm,” he crowed, and you knew then that he truly did miss this just as much as you did. There was nothing like it. Nothing like him. No one had ever given you the same amount of pleasure and adoration as he had. And you hoped to god that he was here to stay, this time.
Your lower belly began tightening with waves of pleasure, but you suspected that it was more due to the excitement that you were finally going to experience him for all that he was, as raw and delicious and perfect as you had always imagined. You fought back the euphoria that he was already quickly getting you to, knowing that you wanted to savor this feeling for all that it was worth.
He could tell you were close as you began actively trying to calm your breathing, stifling away any impending concentration on trying not to orgasm.
He took that as his cue to push you further back on the bed, crawling his way up your body as the two of you finally met, completely unclothed and baring your souls to one another. Finally.
“Josh, please don’t feel like you have to do this, I completely understand,” you reasoned as he guided his tip up through your soaked folds. Just that sensation alone had your eyes rolling back in your head. God that was so fucking…
“I want to, god damnit, I need you,” he said, his voice chopped with desire. “Been waiting too long for this, for you…”
Your legs spread wider for him as he teased you, collecting up your wetness and savoring the feeling of the two of you finally connecting. Your body was burning with want, and you were terrified that you would be close to the edge again as soon as he entered you, but you held out hope.
“I’m fucking over the just friends shit, Y/N. I’m done with it. I can’t keep lying to you, lying to myself…” he raised up on his elbow to get a better look at your face as he pulled a few stray hairs clear. “Tell me you feel the same…”
“Are you fucking kidding me, Josh? I’ve wanted you since the second I met you, since the day you talked me off the edge in the walk-in…” you hummed. “Something different about you, and I knew it. Been craving you ever since…”
“Craving me, huh?” he huffed with a heavy air of confidence. “Awfully powerful emotion.”
You pursed your lips as you shook your head, your hips rutting into his touch. “More than a craving. You make me think about shit, make me want a future. No one else has ever understood me like you do, baby. And we’ve got so much more to learn about each other…”
He knew you were right. Things had been this good for a while now, and if it weren’t for this latest hiccup, the two of you would have been on the road to oblivion together, sharing more than just work secrets and pleasure-filled evenings after too many drinks at the bar.
“I’m serious, Y/N. I wanna be more with you,” he admitted with a harsh swallow. He pressed himself inside you just a little, giving you a sliver of a taste of what else he had to offer.
“Then let’s do it, let’s be more,” you agreed, positive of the fact that you could see right through your current lust for him and into what you believe will be a healthy, steady relationship.
“Yeah?” he asked, and you could tell he was smiling. “You sure?”
“Never been more positive,” you relayed as he pressed a little further, making your skin crawl with the delicious satisfaction of getting exactly what you wanted, after all this time.
Josh sweetly pressed his lips to yours, and pressed himself inside you, inch by delicious inch until he was fully seated.
Finally, finally.
There wasn’t any way to describe how it felt, only whispers of sounds and attempted strings of letters meant to be words falling from both of your lips as you let yourselves relish in the thrill. Cloud nine didn’t even begin to explain it, and euphoria was way behind in the string of feelings that your mind, body, and soul were experiencing.
It was as if he completed you in ways that you didn’t know needed completing, filling in all your empty spaces and wholly baring his entirety to you in a way that only he could.
“Fuckkkkkk…” was all you could mutter, and a sharp inhale was all he could breathe, his jaw hanging agape as he took you in.
He began moving inside you, pulling out ever so slowly and then pushing back in again with light force. Electric shocks filled your system and deep rolls of pleasure threatened your psyche, making you positively dizzy with overwhelming satisfaction. Your hand jolted up to your own hair, pulling it back from your face as you fought with desperation. There was no way he felt this good…
“Good baby?” he asked quietly in your ear, beginning to pick up a little bit of a pace.
“Fucking…unreal, Josh,” you mumbled, having trouble formulating anything coherent.
“You’re fucking perfect Y/N, I swear to god…” he breathed as he raised up on both hands, steadying himself above you as he twisted his hips to a new angle. He propped up on his knee as he began rolling his hips, each thrust bottoming out and hitting you impossibly deeper each time. He reached behind him and pulled your leg up to rest around his waist, the new angle making you cry out in a sweet pain for just a second until he worked you through it.
The sounds bouncing off the walls were borderline embarrassing, but neither of you cared. You were locked in, completely out of control and in it at the same time as your bodies ravished one another beyond any point of authority. It was intense, and it was uncontrolled, but damn if it wasn’t beyond every single thing you had ever imagined. He leaned down on his elbows to put his face close to yours, bringing you into a deep and sweet kiss. Nothing could have prepared you for this. You always knew you had chemistry, but this…
He picked up speed for a minute or so as you cried out, his own sounds beginning to creep through his chest and into the hot air of the room. Half of you wanted to push him to his back and let you take over, but you’d wager that he wanted this. Wanted to continue to prove to himself that this was the right decision, tonight. And hopefully, for a long time to come.
He suddenly slowed, just as you felt the knot in your stomach tightening to a point of no return, and began to slowly and steadily pump in and out of you. The crude sounds suddenly ceased, and you were left with him swaying his hips in a motion not unlike the waves crashing onto the sand, lazy and slow and with tempo.
“Josh, I feel…” you couldn’t even get the words out as your throat had gone dry, aching itself as you gasped for air. You shook the thought and met his eyes, full of so much adoration you felt like you could cry.
“Me too, baby, me too…” he agreed as he continued on with gently and deeply kissing you, letting his tongue keep in rhythm with his hips. There was nothing you could think of that could top this feeling, except the notion that maybe you could do this again and again and again, letting your love for Josh grow like a watered seed in early spring. There was nothing you wanted more than to watch him grow into your counterpart, and you a person he could positively call his. “Just let me know what you want, it’s yours…”
“Just want you, just want this…all the time…” you begged, feeling your insides begin to twist. He nodded hard, agreeing with you as he let out a sweet ‘mhmm’.
“You feel so good baby, so perfect…” he sang after a few seconds, his voice hanging on for dear life as he sat back on his heels, giving him a full view of you. His hand drifted down to your core again, tracing harsh circles over your clit as he continued his thrusts. The added stimulation made your head want to explode. He pulled your ankles up to rest on his shoulders, leaning in to you and allowing for a much deeper, much more challenging position. “So fuckin’ tight,” he grit, his teeth grinding against one another as he began to lose the composure of his patterned thrusts.
“Josh, fuck…” you cried pitifully, your hands digging hard into the muscles of his shoulders. “Keep going keep going…”
“It’s yours, baby, let me have it…” he commanded, and you knew right then you’d give him anything he’d ever ask for. His eyes were sparkling and dark in the dim light of the room, and the thin sheen of sweat on his forehead made you dizzy with a new attraction to him. He’d never know how beautiful he really is.
You felt your abdomen tighten again as you fluttered around him, letting him know that you were close. He began picking up speed again as his hips pounded into the backs of your legs, and you could feel him twitching deep inside you. You began humming through the impending pleasure, your nails digging hard into his back as you let the buildup overtake you.
His chest grunted in pleasure as you both raced for the finish line, knowing that the other was right there alongside. It overtook you in more ways than one, your body tightening in on his as you let yourself feel it wrapping around your bones, around your entire being. He felt better than anything you could have ever imagined. Anything anyone else could have ever promised. You paid close attention to how his body reacted to his own release, shaking and crying out in the most beautiful song you’d ever heard.
And it was all because of you.
When all was said and done and the both of you returned to a place of coherency, you could do nothing but smile ear to ear as his glazed-over eyes took you in, placing tiny sweet kisses all over your face as he stayed buried inside you, not wanting to part.
You both lazed for what felt like an hour, nestling in under the covers after a quick cleanup in the bathroom. Josh’s voice never raised above a whisper for the rest of the night, his sweet nothings making your heart swell with gratitude for him. Finally, the one thing you’d been wanting all along, and what Josh had unknowingly been too afraid to to jump to, finally happening in such a beautiful way the both of you had no idea why you waited so long.
“Hope I made your decision worthwhile,” you bit, a bit shy to be laying the situation back out on the table.
“Psssh… you surpassed any caution that I might have held, babe. Perfect…in every way.” His hand laid across your cheek as his thumb brushed across the soft skin, basking in the afterglow that he now wished he would have never held back on. “M’sorry we didn’t do that sooner, I guess… I guess you were right. I was too scared of my own shadow. Should have been showing you how I felt all along.”
“You were worth every single second of the wait, Josh. Maybe it wasn’t meant to happen til now,” you suggested, realizing that maybe the both of you needed that bit of separation to let yourselves feel that the lack of closeness wasn’t rational, at all.
He took you up in his arms, pulling you in close to his chest. You breathed him in, letting yourself relax into his scent and his comfort. “You gonna let me call you mine, now?” he asked, his voice so quiet you barely heard him.
But his words made your chest blossom with admiration. The one thing that’s made the most sense in your new life, finally coming to fruition.
“I’ve always been yours, Josh. Since my first day at Angelo’s,” you giggled across the pillow as you lifted your leg to lazily drop over his hip.
He laughed out loud, rolling to his back a little as his hand lovingly fell to caress your thigh. His elbow fell across his face as he yawned, the effects of the night finally taking hold over him.
“Ten,” he said matter of factly.
“What?” you asked through your own yawn.
“I give you a ten. Nothing more, nothing less,” he uncovered his eyes and rolled to kiss your forehead, and then your nose, and then your lips. Everything about the gesture made you warm with love for him, grateful for the man that finally let himself feel.
“My girl, the perfect ten.”
Taglist: @britney-gvf @sacredstarcatcher @wetkleenex-gvf @farfromthehomelands @takenbythemadness @writingcold @builtbybrokenbells @ohgodthefeeling-gvf @fleet-of-fiction @milkgemini @gvfpal @ageofcj@dancingcarbon @highway-tuna @stardustjake @jakekiszkapunchmeintheface @gvfmarge @gracev0609 @myleftsock @literal-dead-leaf @peaceloveunitygvf @ageofbajabule @slut4lando @jordie-gvf @sadiechar @tinydancer40 @rosabellagvf @capnjaket @lyndz2names @thetroublegetssoloud71 @gretavanomens @spark-my-nature @josh-iamyour-mama @anythingforjtk @alwaysonthemend @danieljlmwagner @klarxtr @fortunatelytinybasement @demonrat444 @gretavansara @watchingover-hypegirl @hippievanfleet @digitalnomadz @raviolilegs @lipstickitty @hippievanfleet @klarxtr @strange-whorizons @do-it-jakey-baby @myownparadise96 @gvf-luna @starshine-wagner@cassiesgreta @joopsandjangs @whimsiliz @kiszkas-canvas@whimsiliz @joopsandjangs @broken0mens @scoreofinfantryvines @whereiskeara @do-it-jakey-baby @miravanfleet @heckingfrick @gretavangroupie @dayumclarizzel @lilbitx @ageofbajabule
#greta van fleet#gvf#greta van fleet fic#greta van fleet smut#greta van fleet fanfiction#greta van fleet fan fiction#greta van smut#greta van angst#greta van fluff#greta van fic#gretavanfleet#jake kiszka gvf#jake kiszka fanfiction#jake kiszka x reader#jake kiszka smut#josh kiszka#josh kiskza smut#josh kiszka fic#josh kiszka x reader#sam kiszka gvf#sam kiszka fic#sam kiszka x reader#sam kiszka smut#sam kiszka#danny wagner#danny wagner smut#danny wagner x reader#danny gvf#sam kiskza#josh gvf
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RARE PAIR WEEK DAY 3: "...and they were roommates!"
Normal Fantasy Dude Tucker x Divine Donut for the alt universe prompt :3c
Writing for the au below the cut!
Lavernius Tucker was not entirely sure how he got here, but he couldn’t be mad about it. He wasn’t a pious man. He wasn’t exactly the most devout follower of the gods. Honestly, he suspected the only reason he was allowed into the temples, into the inner chambers, was because of the sword he carried. Just his luck he found the damn thing, right? Right. Luck.
“Tucker? Is everything okay?” The Oracle asks, and Tucker grins. He may not be a religious man, but he is a damn lucky one. Evidence? Right here- the Oracle himself, divine figure of fate and fortune, the one who strikes true and sees through time itself. One of the fucking gods.
“I’m good, Donut,” Tucker answers, because fuck yeah he was on a casual name basis with a fucking god. Then he leans in, and presses a warm kiss to the side of Donut’s mouth, because he was also the god’s lover. Suck on that, everyone who said he’d never amount to anything.
“You sure? If we need to stop-” Donut fusses, because that’s what he does. Over ten feet of pure divine power, and he worries like a sheepdog over kittens.
“I know our watchword, Donut,” Tucker says, stealing another kiss. Donut’s hands are warm around him, and they’re not really doing much (this time, at this moment, at least) but the gentle brush of Donut’s fingers against Tucker’s hair make it really hard to focus on anything except relaxing into that touch. Donut hums with a pout on his lips and Tucker shifts his weight so he’s kneeling as he leans up to wrap an arm around the back of Donut’s neck. If he asked, Tucker had the excuse of playing with the long hair that floated around Donut like a halo. But it turns out, the god of fate and fortune had a hard time reading people. All of time and space? Sure, no biggie, like reciting a story you’ve heard your entire life. But people? Their expressions, their body language? Donut was utterly blind to it. It was endearing, in a very strange surreal way. It made him so…well. Human. Tucker runs his fingers through the thick locks of Donut’s hair, watching the small motion ripple out to the ends where it faded to soft gold.
“I was just thinkin’, ya know? About how lucky I am,” Tucker grins wider, and Donut looked some awkward mix between curious and embarrassed. He thought he was sooo subtle. “Lucky to survive some of the shit I’ve seen, lucky to find this sword, lucky to be assigned to your temples…”
Tucker pauses and lets his other hand slide down Donut’s shoulder, over the soft silk-like fabric of his tunic. Donut’s good eye, the one that witnesses the present world around him, follows the motion as best it can. When he can’t watch Tucker’s hand, Donut turns his attention to watching his face.
“Right…lucky,” Donut repeats, and Tucker loves watching the blush creep up into the god’s pointed ears. He just makes it so easy!
“Mhm,” Tucker is leaning in again, Donut watching him intently, but he isn’t done talking just yet. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think someone with some strings to pull was watching out for me. Nudging things to go just so, yeah? Making sure I’d end up in the right place, at the right time,”
“Would it bother you? If that were the case? Cau-cause I’m sure if it was- and I’m not saying that it is- I’m sure he-I-they’d only have your best interests at heart. But if you wanted them-him-them to stop-” Donut stumbles over his words, and Tucker lets him, for a beat, before he laughs.
“I don’t mind. I like having luck on my side, after all. Best kind of company there is, from what I heard. Besides, Luck is pretty damn cute, especially when he gets all flustered,”
“I- you- Tucker!”
Lavernius Tucker was not a devout or pious man. He was, however, a damn lucky one.
#rvb#red vs blue#rvb rarepair week dos#rvb rarepair week 2024#rvb donut#franklin delano donut#rvb tucker#lavernius tucker#tucknut#my art#batsy art#batsy writes#fantasy au! sort of? yea sure#apparently my brain has decided a different pair for every day of this week which like! sure okay lmao? not mad.. more blorbo time#this is silly and indulgent but i love the dynamic of these two and their alien prophecies of various levels of bullshit
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Right Next Door
Simon Riley x Reader
Summary : Your mysterious neighbour helps you out when a date goes wrong, what happens when you try to befriend him?
Warnings : Creepy guy, Simon Riley, Delusion
°•♡○° Masterlist °•♡•°
The air was biting cold as I climbed the steps to my apartment building, my heart pounding as I tried to maintain a polite smile. The date had been a disappointment from the start, but I’d wanted to see it through, thinking maybe I was just nervous.
Yet, every attempt to cut the night short had fallen on deaf ears, and now he was right behind me, insisting on escorting me all the way for my own 'safety'.
I fumbled with my bag, pretending to search for my keys. “Thanks for the evening,” I said, hoping he’d take the hint and turn around.
“Oh, don’t thank me yet.” He laughed, sidling a little too close, his shoulder brushing mine. “The night doesn’t have to end here, you know. Let’s go to yours for a nightcap.”
I forced a laugh, swallowing down the anxiety building up. “I… don’t think that’s a good idea.”
His face shifted, a flicker of annoyance crossing his expression. “Come on,” he murmured, edging closer, his hand reaching to touch my arm. “We had a nice time. You can’t tell me you didn’t feel it too.”
I forced myself to meet his gaze, my voice firm. “I’m just… not interested in taking things further tonight, maybe another day.”
His smile faltered, frustration creeping into his tone. “What’s the problem? You were all smiles back there. Now you're not interested?"
I tried to step back, but he mirrored my movements, closing the space between us as I reached my door and closing in on me. "You know it's not fair to lead a guy on, right?"
My fingers finally found the keys and I gripped it tightly between my fingers, trying to resist the urge to ram it into his eyeball.
He trespassed the line even further as he leaned in, his gross breath burning against my cheek. "Just one kiss,” he muttered, his hand pressing against the doorframe to cage me in.
Panic flared as I shook my head. “Please, I’d rather you didn’t. I just… don’t feel that way.”
His expression darkened, eyes narrowing as he leaned even closer. “Teasing me all night just to leave me hanging, huh? That’s how you get your fun?”
I felt the words stick in my throat, my pulse racing. His voice grew harsher, thick with frustration as he got angrier. “You think you’re too good for me? That it?”
I barely had a second to process his words when a shadow appeared in the hallway, and I felt a wave of relief and fear as I recognized my neighbor—Simon Riley.
The big guy who had moved here a few months ago, aside of the few times we passed each other in the hallways, I rarely saw him. He was always quiet, I've never heard him talk and not a peep of noise was heared through the walls.
Something about his size and the dark clothing he always wore ( and the usual grumpy expression on his face ) had, for some reason, caught my eye. Maybe it had something to do with all the books I read with the typical older grumpy man and the sweet sunshine girl trope.
That trope was unfortunately a guilty pleasure of mine, having always wanted to feel safe, protected and taken care of by someone. Someone in whose presence I could just turn my brain off without a worry and know I'll be fine
Maybe those desires were born from my feelings of loneliness and my hard time in making friends. Maybe, it was because I wanted someone to love and accept me as I am and see me as me and still fully and wholly love me.
Sometimes, when I would just think and daydream of having such man, I couldn't help the flashes of my neighbours face in my mind. I wanted to actually love and be loved so badly instead of just imagining it, so I had decided to go out for the first time in a very long time, unfortunately I just ended up putting myself in this situation.
But, as I saw Simon standing in the doorway of his flat, right next to mine. His presence as imposing as ever, I was immediately swarmed by images of being wrapped up and safe in those tree trunk arms- ( valid )
His gaze was calm, but the tension radiating off him was anything but. He took a step forward, his voice low and laced with quiet authority that made my brain tingly in all the right ways.
“I think you’ve overstayed your welcome,” he said, voice gruff and cold. “Leave.”
My date turned, his confidence faltering for the first time, though he tried to laugh it off. “And who are you, her guard dog?”
Simon’s jaw clenched, and he took another slow step toward him. “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll walk away. Now.”
The guy scoffed, glancing at me as if I would defend him, but I could only stare, feeling my pulse in my throat as Simon’s presence loomed, unyielding and almost terrifying in its intensity.
“Fine,” the man muttered, backing away with a huff. “Good luck with that one. She’s just a tease anyway.” He threw a final look over his shoulder, muttering curses under his breath as he disappeared down the stairwell.
I let out a shaky breath, the tension in my body finally loosening. My eyes met Simon’s, and for a moment, I was acutely aware of how close he still stood, the quiet strength and warmth radiating off him.
“Thank you,” I murmured, voice barely above a whisper.
Simon’s gaze flicked over me, taking in my tense posture, the unsteady breaths. “Get inside,” he said softly, his tone softer but still firm. He didn’t move, just kept watching, waiting until I stepped back into my flat.
I wanted to say more—to thank him properly, to explain—but my voice failed me. I just nodded, stepping back into my apartment as he remained outside, a silent sentinel. As I closed the door behind me, I felt the echo of his presence linger, leaving me wondering who Simon Riley really was behind the walls he kept so carefully constructed.
°•♡•°
I leaned against my door, heart still racing from the confrontation with my date. What just happened?
I pressed my palms to my cheeks, feeling the heat rising in them, embarrassment crashing over me in waves. I wanted to scream at myself for letting things get so out of hand.
Why hadn’t I been firmer?
My date’s cruel words echoed in my mind. “Teasing me all night…” Had I really been that confusing?
I knew I had always had a hard time speaking to people, but I did not think I had been teasing or anything alike at all. In fact, I was pretty sure I was keeping my distance the whole night.
I sank down to the floor, knees pulled to my chest, wishing I could disappear. It wasn’t the first time I had been made to feel this way, but it hurt more than usual. I hated that I had let him walk me to my door, thinking it would be harmless, but now, all I felt was a sense of violation mixed with anger.
But as I replayed the events of the night, my thoughts drifted to Simon. The way he had stepped in, fierce and unwavering, how his presence had made me feel safer. His intense gaze, the way he commanded attention without even trying, sent a flutter through my chest. Why did he even care?
In the days that followed, I found myself stealing glances at Simon whenever I heard him in the hallway or caught sight of him through the window. He always seemed so focused, moving with purpose and intensity that made my heart race. He was intimidating but also…protective. I couldn’t help but admire the way he carried himself, confident and strong, making it hard to believe he even lived next door to me.
I found myself thinking about him more than I wanted to admit. What was it about him? There was something in the way he furrowed his brow when he was deep in thought, or how his lips curled slightly when he was amused, that made my heart skip a beat.
I’d catch myself daydreaming about what it would be like to get to know him, to see the softer side that lay beneath his tough exterior.
But would he even be interested in someone like me?
One evening, as I sat at my kitchen table, the smell of cookies wafting through the air, I decided I needed to make a move. Maybe a little gesture would help break the ice. I figured I’d bring him a treat and see how he responded. I hesitated, biting my lip as I gathered my courage, reminding myself that it was just cookies, not a marriage proposal.
After baking, I carefully placed the cookies in a small tin and knocked on his door, my heart pounding. I waited, second-guessing myself. What if he thought I was a silly little girl for doing this?
When the door opened, Simon stood there, dressed in his usual casual attire, the warmth of the lights behind him casting shadows across his face. “Yeah?” he asked, his deep voice grounding me despite the chaos in my head.
“Um, I made some cookies,” I stammered, holding out the tin. “I thought you might like some.”
He glanced at the tin, then back to me, a flicker of surprise in his eyes. “You didn’t have to do that,” he said, though he accepted it without hesitation. The briefest smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, and for a moment, I felt a flutter of hope.
“I just wanted to thank you for helping me the other night,” I added quickly, my cheeks warming under his gaze. “You really saved me.”
He nodded, but the moment felt fleeting, like catching smoke in my hands. “No problem,” he said, his voice steady. “Just doing what I had to.”
And just like that, he closed the door, leaving me standing in the hallway, heart racing, filled with a mixture of elation and disappointment.
Was that all?
I turned to leave, feeling a knot of longing tightening in my chest. I wanted more than just a quick exchange; I wanted to be seen by him.
In the following days, I couldn’t help but keep an eye out for him. Each time I spotted Simon in the hallway, my heart raced, a blend of hope and anxiety filling me. I’d muster the courage to say something, anything, to bridge the gap between us.
“Hey, Simon,” I’d manage, my voice barely above a whisper as I tried to catch his eye. He’d glance my way, a quick nod, but his focus would shift immediately, and I’d feel that familiar pang of rejection in my chest.
Days turned into weeks, and I found myself trying harder to initiate conversations. I would catch him on his way to the gym or returning from work. Each time, I’d greet him, my heart pounding, and every time, he’d respond with a grunt or a nod. I wanted to learn more about him, to break through the walls he had built around himself, but he always seemed to have somewhere to be.
One afternoon, I spotted him in the hallway, leaning against the wall, scrolling through his phone. My pulse quickened, and I took a deep breath. “Hey, Simon! How was your day?” I asked, attempting to sound casual.
He looked up, a flicker of surprise crossing his features before he replied, “Fine.” He didn’t elaborate, and I felt a heaviness settle in my stomach.
“Just…fine?” I pressed, hoping to elicit more. “Did you have a busy week?”
He sighed, shoving his phone into his pocket. “You could say that.”
I bit my lip, trying to think of something else to say, but the silence stretched awkwardly between us. “Well, if you ever want to talk or hang out, you can—”
“I’m not looking for friends,” he cut in, his tone sharper than I expected. “I did what I had to out of duty. Don’t think about it too much.”
The words hit me like a punch to the gut. I could only stare at him, my heart sinking as his gaze shifted, avoiding mine. “It’s nothing personal,” he added, but it felt cold, devoid of the warmth I’d hoped for.
“I understand,” I managed, my voice barely above a whisper. My hands trembled slightly, and I fought back tears as I watched him step past me, leaving me standing there, shattered.
I felt the weight of his dismissal settle heavily on my shoulders, a reminder of how invisible I really was to him. My heart ached, not just from his words but from the reality that I would never be more than an afterthought to Simon Riley.
As I stepped into my flat, the door closing behind me, I sank down against it, tears slipping down my cheeks. I had wanted to be seen, to have someone recognize my worth, but instead, I was left with the painful truth: Simon didn’t want me around, and that stung more than I could express.
Each encounter with him became a reminder of my own insecurities, and the ache in my chest grew heavier with each passing day. I felt lost in the maze of my feelings for him, unable to reconcile the admiration I felt with the reality of his indifference.
All I wanted was a connection, but somehow, it felt as if I was always reaching for something just out of my grasp, destined to remain alone while he moved on, unbothered by my existence.
#simon rileyn#simon riley x you#simon ghost x reader#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley#simon riley#simon riley cod#call of duty x reader#call of duty#cod x reader#ghost cod#cod#cod mw2#ghost angst#ghost x reader#ghost#simon riley angst#simon riley fluff#simon angst#simon ghost x you#simon ghost riley x reader#simon ghost riley x you
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After I finished reading the books and the bonus chapter I thought there was a 50% chance that the next book could be about elriel and 50% it could be about gwynriel, especially when I saw how popular gwynriel was. I didn’t pick up on any of the lightsinger hints. I feel like most people don’t pick up on them the first time they read the books. Without the lightsinger theory, the bonus chapter seems to introduce gwyn as a possible love interest for az.
With everything we learn in hofas and what Sarah said in the today interview, I think she’s more likely to write elriel. But that doesn’t mean that elucien or gwynriel can’t happen, after all she said she writes based on vibes and she’s prone to change love interests.
*I don't even care if this is a troll ask I already had a draft along these lines saved so thanks for letting me use it*
Walk with me, 🚶🏽♀️
I mean, I agree. If I had ONLY read the bonus chapter and none of the other books, then yeah I'd say he starts the BC with Elain and ends with Gwyn. So he could go either way.
But that would be ignoring the rest of the books outside the singular, 5page bonus chapter 🤷🏻♀️
Though you're right, truly, SJM can take it any which way she wants. You see it as 50/50 chance between Elriel and Gwynriel, I see it as 99/1, SJM herself could be 75/25 who knows! She could do 0/0 and make Azriel end up with Eris too!
And yet - when you read that last sentence - where I claimed SJM could write Azris endgame just as likely as she could write Gwynriel or Elriel - I'm sure a part of you disagreed, didn't it?
"There's no way Azris is as likely as Gwynriel!"
You're right. It's not. You know that. I know that. And you know why we both believe it's unlikely that SJM will throw away both Elriel and Gwynriel in favor of Azris?
It's because SJM doesn't just "switch love interests" without buildup.
We all knows she can do whatever she wants - she's the author. But I think it's kind of an inaccurate statement to say "she's prone to switching love interests", point blank. She NEVER has done that without proper buildup.
SJM has two ways she "changes" a love interest:
1. A main character has a minor relationship that is summarized in a passing sentence or paragraph long thought about their ex/current lover. They might not have even been in an actual relationship just had romantic feelings at one point. Either way, it's never a focus of the story.
Ex: Hunt & Shahar, Feyre & Isaac Hale, Elain & Greyson, Mor & Azriel (and cassian ig), Bryce & Connor, Hypaxia & Ruhn
2. A main character has a full blown relationship with another main character and they fully explore all stages of falling in love, lust, breaking up, and then moving on to another character.
Ex: Tamlin/Feyre/Rhys; Dorian/Aelin/Chaol/Rowan
She does it both ways. Here's the difference though:
The first method is minor stakes. It's typically just the beginning of a relationship, or a retrospective point of view. There is very rarely any physical intimacy. It is also typically only the female's point of view.
In my opinion, it shouldn't really even count as a love interest switch up. It is so small in the scale of things and it never pans out or is given any importance in the main story. It fizzles out after the first 10 pages (not literally guys chill), basically.
Then we get to the second method of her "love interest switch". She doesnt do this one often, and it takes MULTIPLE books to cover. It is about a MAIN FEMALE character. The Feyre & Aelins, if you will.
Both of those situations were not something that was just sprung on us without adequate build up.
Feyre fell in love with Tamlin. Met Rhys. Slowly fell OUT of love with Tamlin. Then fell in love with Rhys. It took her 3 books.
They did not have a romance in ACOTAR while she was still falling for Tamlin. That would've been like if she went to Calanmai, saw Rhys, and then decided she didn't want Tamlin and only wanted Rhys from then.
Aelin & Dorian and Aelin & Chaol were two relationships that were FULLY fleshed out. She did not abruptly leave Chaol and immediately fall for Rowan. These aren't instances where anything happened abruptly in a bonus chapter or even in ONE book- these "switch ups" happened over multiple books.
Now let's look at Elain and Azriel.
In the context of the series, let's evaluate where these two stand in the two ways SJM does a love interest switch up:
1. Minor character romance switch up
- Are Azriel & Elain minor characters? ❌ no
- Did they share only one sentence or paragraph thinking about each other? ❌ no, they had multiple major scenes together
- Was it from a female POV? ❌ no
- do they only briefly show physical intimacy? Yes ✅
So clearly, Azriel and Elain don't fit into the first type of "switch up" she does. The only criteria they fit is that they have had one scene of minor physical intimacy.
2. Major character love interest switch
- Are Azriel & Elain main characters at this point? Yes ✅
- Did Azriel & Elain get a chance to fully explore their relationship and fall in love? No ❌
- Did Azriel & Elain get multiple books to cover this changing of feelings? No ❌
So clearly, Azriel and Elain don't fit into the second type of "switch up" she does either. The only criteria they fit is that they are both major characters right now.
Now what did we conclude as a result of this long ass post, if yall are still with me on this 10k hike?
Azriel & Elain have had buildup together that cannot be ignored.
They have been the main focus (Azriel's Hybern camp rescue of Elain was VERY similar to Nesta saving/willing to die for Cassain)
They have had clear romantic feelings for each other as evidenced by the bonus chapter
They have obstacles in place now (thanks Rhys).
There's foreshadowing in droves scattered throughout the bonus chapters and books.
The natural flow of the story supports Elriel
The POV before Elain's book is Azriel's not Lucien's
SJM is on the Today show talking about rejected mates
SJM has made Azriel step into the role Lucien should have been playing for Elain
If you're willing to ignore this and say "Gwynriel could have a 50/50 percent chance of happening bc of the singular bonus chapter" ... then go ahead. But don't act surprised when you get the next book in your hands and it's indeed Elriel 🤷🏻♀️
There is always a slight chance the author could do anything. That's like if I said "yeah - in every soccer game there's a chance the goalie could stop blocking shots and let the other team win."
Like yes. Quite literally they could do that. It's up to them.
But is it likely? No.
Will it go against everything they've set up and trained for? Yes.
SJM could write Gwynriel. She could write Azris then too, as that has equal buildup. She could write Nezris or Azquin. She could write anything. But that minuscule possibly of "anything could happen" doesn't affect typical calculations when it comes to statistics, so I don't know why it's playing a part here. SJM's plot does not defy the normal laws of physics and chance🙄
So at the end of this long walk, if you're still with me, I just want yall to know that yes SJM could do anything she wants she's the author - but Elriel is the most likely conclusion by far.
#elriel#acotar#elain x azriel#elain archeron#azriel#pro elain#elain#antielucien#pro elriel#antigwynriel
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let me have tonight, you put color in my black and white
spy x family | forger family & twilight/yor forger | rated g
ao3
As Yor, Loid, and Anya enter their apartment, a bit of the autumn chill trails behind them, as if it were a stray cat refusing to leave their side. Yor hefts a bag of brown sugar across her shoulder, while Loid balances a full carton of eggs and a paper sack of groceries. Anya darts forward, a jar of peanut butter tucked into her arm as she shouts a greeting to Bond’s resting figure. Bond lifts his head in interest, letting out an acknowledging whine.
“Can I have the peanut butter, Miss Anya?” Yor asks her. She receives a bright smile and the said jar in return. Loid smiles over the small habit—even when they have more than solidified their connections to one another, his wife never fails to be kind. Classic Yor.
His smile remains as the three of them work side by side in the kitchen, laying out the flour and salt and sugar from their cartons and cabinets—a little treasure hunt until they are ready to bake. He feels Yor’s breaths on the shell of his ear, and Anya’s hyperactive presence brushing against his side. Not for the first time, he feels that this is the most precious mission he’s been on.
“What are we thinking this evening?" he asks them, moving towards their radio in the living room. “Jazz? Swing? Something else?”
He observes his wife examining the recipe card through their little kitchen window. He can’t help his smile as his daughter hops on her tiptoes to peer at it too.
“Anything sounds lovely,” Yor answers, tossing him the smile that makes his heart beat a bit faster.
“A surprise it is, then.” He turns on the radio and flips through several channels before settling on one with an upbeat acoustic melody. He turns up the volume and heads back to his family’s side, humming a few notes he picks out of the chorus.
The kitchen becomes a symphony of soft words, baking utensils, and laughter. Loid takes care of the dry ingredients, while Yor and Anya handle the liquid ones. Yor hovers behind Anya, guiding her to measure out the butter, salt, and sugar with sweet-spoken instructions. As Anya levels out the last bit of peanut butter, Loid reaches for the eggs, cracking some shells and adding the yolks to their bowl before paying attention to finishing his own.
He brings the flour closer to him, gesturing for Anya to open it when she and Yor finish their part of the recipe. His daughter opens the top, gasping in surprise when a cloud of flour rises out of the bag. On impulse, he drags a finger across the edge of the flour sack and dabs a bit on her nose. He relishes in her delighted giggle.
“Mama should want flour on her face too,” she tells him. “Then we can be matching!” Loid holds back a chuckle at her antics because of course that’s what she’d want him to do.
Yor glances at him with widened eyes, a charming pink blush splashing across her cheeks. How endearing. He loves her so much.
“Oh!” she gasps. “I—”
“You do, do you?” he jumps in, giving her a playful smirk. “Well, I have just the solution.”
She laughs and darts away from his outstretched, flour-coated fingers, only to have several brush her forehead a second later. “I got you, sweetheart,” he chuckles, reaching to wipe the remaining powder on the dip of her waist.
“Hmm, are you sure?” she replies, grabbing his hand and smearing the flour still coating it against his cheek. He can’t bring himself to tame his smile as he looks at her, letting himself grin widely instead of sharpening its edges. For a second he feels like that child again, the one running with his old friends unconcerned with peril and peace—although younger him never experienced the gift of Yor’s presence.
(Somehow, even on separate paths, he’s certain that they would have met someday, and grown inexplicably close to one another.)
“I suppose you’ve overtaken me, darling,” he replies, warmth flaring in him at all the other memories that exist between them.
As much as a younger part of him would have loved to cover the whole area in flour, the older part of him recognizes it would have made baking a distraction rather than a goal, so he settles for this tiny indulgence.
“Shall we combine the dough and find a few caramel candies to put in it?” he wonders aloud, redirecting their focus. “Or I have a caramel-making method that might work.”
(It’s been a while since Twilight took on the visage of a confectioner, but he figures he remembers enough to avoid burning anything.)
His love hesitates, her gaze darting towards the cabinet as she thinks. “We have a few candies left over, but not enough for more than a tray. If you wouldn’t mind?”
He’s close enough to peck her temple this time. “Always.”
The radio channel turns to a swing number as Anya and Yor combine and knead the cookie dough, rolling up spheres to set on the silver baking sheet. At the same time Loid busies himself near the stove, stirring sugar, butter, and cream into a molten syrup. The mixture bubbles in the pan and shifts into a golden, chestnut hue. The sweet richness of its scent mingles in the air as he pours it on the imprinted dough and slides the drizzled tray inside the oven.
Anya watches an episode of Spy Wars as the desserts bake—gasping at the dramatic moments, hugging Bond’s neck during the suspenseful parts, and calling out encouragement to Bondman as he escapes the dastardly plot of the day. Yor and Loid sit on the couch so closely they meld into one soft, affectionate whole. Loid lays his head against Yor’s shoulder. Yor intertwines her fingers with his. They are two glowing gold threads, woven together like rope. Their shared, precious peace is evident in the silence of their being, in the way they steal a quick, adoring kiss when Anya and Bond are occupied with their show.
How wonderfully loved is he now, that peace feels like an opportunity rather than a rarity.
Yor hums a bit to the tune of the jazz ballad in the background, the radio turned quieter for Anya’s fun. He closes his eyes and listens to her gentle alto, remembering a similar night under a drunken haze and the glare of a streetlight. If anything, he’s become even weaker to the sound of her voice than the past hint of an old lullaby—what an unexpected, wondrous thing.
It seems as if the leaves changing to scarlet and gold outside their apartment reflect his own state of mind, for Agent Twilight has done the unthinkable. He has morphed into a being outside of a war-shadowed, battle-born changeling. He no longer feels trapped by all that ever could be, nor by past bouts of betrayal and burdens. He is not defined by his willingness to become forgettable, and it is as distressing as it is exhilarating, carving a new existence out of brittle wood. He can only hope that he has learned enough from the ghosts of his former self, and that Anya will never have to experience such a twisting terror.
“Should I get up and make some soup, or will we make Anya eat cookies for dinner?” Yor whispers in his ear with a laugh.
His response is to tug her closer to his side, wrapping an arm around her waist.
“Five more minutes, sweetheart? Please?”
“Mmm, are you sure it’s only five?”
“I’m very sure, of course. Completely.”
“Uh-huh. You’re cute.”
“Have you looked in a mirror recently? Because that would say otherwise, I think.”
“Charmer.”
“Darling.”
“Insufferable.”
“Love.”
#trying a new format we'll see how this goes#spy x family#spy x family fic#twiyor#loid forger#yor forger#anya forger#forger family#jade writes
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31: Samhain
Well loves, we made it, Every damn day (except that first one, which I'll rectify when I consolidate) Thanks to @slowsweetlove for providing the Austin based jungle-gym for me to play on. And thanks to all ya'll for hanging out with me , and Austin and sometimes Callum for October.. Hawtober? Hmmm...
Those of you that like to read my mind smut, I'll be taking a digital break for a while. Y'know: touch some grass, do some knitting, bake some bread, paint, declutter, put up some preserves or something cool like that.
Enjoy the end of my own creative challenge for #DDofAB- October 2024
Here is my ongoing masterlist of this project. Keep and eye out for the story in full (or at least less parts) to be posted
My other works are here if you are interested!
Warnings: missing the man, finding the man
You haven’t seen hide nor hair of Austin since those two weeks in New York. He had pretty much moved out of his hotel and into your apartment for the duration of his stay. He took you to plays, made you dinners and made sure a day didn’t go by without showing you that you mattered to him. That and he made sure your pussy stayed wet. You’d not had so much sex in your entire life. It was amazing.
Then he was gone.
Before he left, you two had agreed that, for now at least, you would keep it a ‘no strings attached’ kinda relationship. You had a whole bunch of work in the coming months and he was filming. He had explained that when he is working, he sometimes can’t really do anything else and usually his phone is taken from him. He had texted you, off and on for a while, but it had been radio silence for some time. You knew he was filming in Hungary then here stateside somewhere. It was surreal and sometimes you felt like those two weeks were from someone else’s life. The lingering fear that it would be another ten years before you saw him again was kept only at bay by Callum.
Cal had been far more communicative. He even popped into New York a couple times. Honestly he was far better at maintaining a friendship than Austin.
“Yeah, it’s not like he doesn't care, he just gets caught up in creating character and the artist aspect of it all. Time kinda doesn't mean anything when he gets like that. If you can handle that, you’ll be ok,” Cal had told you once at dinner.
Funnily enough, neither of you were as driven to fuck without Austin there. You joked how he was the sexy lynchpin.
Did you fuck anyway? Yeah, of course you did. But it was way more of a ‘friends with benefits’ feel than it had been with Austin.
Today though you are in the most unlikely of places. You are in Ohio for your cousin’s wedding. It was also Halloween, or Samhain, as she called it.
“It’s pronounced sow-een,” she kept telling anyone near with ears. She had this love affair with Halloween, excuse me, Samhain, so her wedding was gothy and occult themed. It was the only time she felt she could get away with it. Still there were grumbles from the relatives. Skulls, ravens and ouija boards outfitted each table, complete with Tarot decks and black candles as wedding favors.
She had arranged a palm reader and fortune teller the way other people had DJ’s and photo booths. The venu was out in a barn on her friends’ farm. You had come out that afternoon to help set it all up. The wedding wasn’t until after dark, of course.
Her little sister, who was in her mid teens, had brought over a Ouija board and plonked down on the table where you were sitting and tasting the special "black widow" cocktail complete with black glitter and a red spherical ice cube. You thought it was a drink that tempted fate, and hoped it wasn't predictive of your cousins marriage to be.
"Play with me," she had asked, "it's not fun alone."
You agreed, what harm could it have really.
She asked things like:
Are there spirits in the barn? 'no'
Has anyone died in here? 'yes'
Am I crazy? 'no'
Have I met the person I'll marry?
The planchet wandered to ‘no’ for her and practically zipped to ‘yes’ for you.
“Oooo, who is it! You have to spill, I’m dying to know!” she said wagging her eyebrows. She idolized you, living in the big city and making your own way in the world. You had promised her a trip to New York for a graduation present. She was definitely one of those black sheep of your midwestern family. Destined for something far bigger than marrying a local boy and popping out kids.
“I don’t know, could be anyone,” you laughed, “I live in a city with eight million people.”
“Ok, ok! Let’s try this. Ouija Board, where is this man?” she asks.
O-U-T-S-I-D-E came the answer.
“That’s unhelpful,” she made a sour face, “unless he’s like a forest ranger or something. Know any forest rangers?”
“No,” You just laugh it off. Ouija Boards were supposed to be for talking to the dead. You are pretty sure that you aren't going to marry someone dead.
It was then that you heard the tell tale sounds of an old motorcycle in the driveway.
“Oh yeah, they said there was a movie being filmed about motorcycles and that they might be using the front drive to turn around in,” your little cousin says, walking towards the barn door. “Isn't that so neat, a movie, here!! I wonder if it has anyone famous in it. OMG that’d be lit!
“I dunno, I’ll ask” you hear a deep voice outside.
You turn just to see the silhouette of a tall man in the bright square of the barn door.
“Excuse me, is there a restroom I could use here?” the timbre of the voice is unmistakable if layered with a Chicago accent.
“Austin?” his name drops out of your mouth like a spell.
It’s bewitching, the way he strides into the barn, his heels thunking on the old wooden floor. The lights finally uncover his features, and Austin only has eyes for you.
“Is it you? Is it really you,” he says disbelievingly.
“Me? It’s fucking you!” you retort, or try to. He is on you in seconds, gathering you in his arms.
He smells like cold air, motor oil and cigarettes. He kisses you, tasting faintly like whiskey. The world falls away and it’s only you two.
“I’ve been missing you,” he says, placing his forehead on yours.
“Me too, so much,” you breathe back, hardly believing this is real.
You stay there for the span of two breaths, until your little cousin squeals, “Oh my god it was right, he WAS OUTSIDE!”
The End
credit to @strangergraphics for the graphic
Always tag me: @purejasmine, @slowsweetlove, @richardslady121, @austinbutlerslovers, @tadpoleteef, @allittakesisoneflight
"I've been tagged by you before Lumiere!": @thisworldisntrealhoney, @1nho, @megangovier, @briaandthephantoms, @andro-inherdreamworld @callumsgirl @blombardo @fefeisastar @hacunamy @nestito702 @denised916 @jayydep @r0m4nitcl0v3r @heyidc03, @secondchild-2, @flander42 @natural-born-rebel-spirit @lecosymood @kathrynzaragoza @bsunshinexo @jayydep @ifyouloveweedletsgosmoke
#austin butler#austin butler fanfic#austin butler fic#austin butler x reader#i love my readers#austin butler/reader#ddofab#creative challenge#callum turner
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I’m really hoping Jay doesn’t get a new love interest introduced in S2.
#poorni speaks t9s#I can be with n-ia because I can always make jeia angst leading them back together#but I don’t want jay to have a new love interest#at least one that’s a new character#if it’s nate or nikki that’s more than good with me#jikki fwb is my jam#and janate is best friends to lovers excellence like felso#but I can’t do with another love interest
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[ cw: death mention / strangulation mention / stabbing mention / blood mention / self-sacrifice / codependency mention in tags / ]
I think a lot about how common it is for Raph to be the one to have direct focus put on him when Leo gets into all his near death experiences.
Like, when Leo is thrown off a building, it’s Raph who’s right there jumping after him, not even thinking about the consequences to himself when he does. When Leo almost gets skewered by the Krang, Raph’s right there to take the blow and send Leo to safety without a second thought. When Leo’s being strangled to near death, it’s a Krangified Raph doing the job, doing exactly what Raph would never, ever want to do. When Leo is telling Casey Jr to close the portal, it’s Raph who tries desperately to convince Leo otherwise.
Likewise, Leo is consistently very single minded when Raph gets forcibly separated from them. Both when in the sewers and by the Krang, Leo is dead set on finding Raph first and foremost.
I also think it’s interesting that during each of Leo’s near death experiences, the lightheartedness of his words during them goes directly hand in hand with both how close Raph is to him physically and how much danger Raph is also in in that moment. From a literal “I told you so” as Leo’s falling away from Raph to a soft joke about how “hero moves” are Raph’s style - both of these are on the more morbidly carefree side and both of these notably take Leo farther away from Raph and, in turn, have Raph not in immediate danger.
On the other side of things is the apology from Leo, heedless of the danger he himself is in as he seriously and genuinely speaks to a Krangified Raph face to face. Then there’s Leo’s freezing and desperation as Raph takes a hit meant for him and sends just Leo to safety, leaving Raph himself behind. Both of these involve much closer proximity and Raph being directly harmed - these together make Leo much more vulnerable in his words and actions, something not even the threat of death can make him.
These two care about each other so much, and they’re way too much alike for their own good.
#rottmnt#rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles#rottmnt raph#rise raph#rottmnt leo#rise leo#honorable mention to the time Leo desperately tried throwing himself into harm’s way to get to Karai#and Raph is the one who has to pull him back#I also think that it’s interesting how both of them go about self sacrifice#because wow they both have problems with it#Raph’s tends to be immediate reactions not even thinking as he throws himself over his bros#Leo’s are often shown to be ‘for the greater good’ (said greater good often being his family)#once again I am saying that post movie these two would likely have codependency issues#considering Raph’s already present acute seperation anxiety and Leo’s immediate memory of Raph standing over him bleeding#another thing to mention is how Future Leo’s actual death still falls into the whole ‘morbidly lighthearted words’ category#I also wanna point out that in Many Unhappy Returns the trust that Leo wants so much does NOT come from Splinter but from RAPH#side note but in regard to the fighting that Raph and Leo were up to during the time between the shredder and the krang#I think it’s interesting that it’s NOT depicted as screaming matches - very blatantly not this actually#also also! I totally love how the movie parallels Oroku Saki and Karai with Raph and Leo respectively#there are so many parallels in general in this show+movie it makes me froth at the mouth#and because it breaks my heart - the beginning of the movie had Raph getting angry at Leo and lashing out at him#the end of the movie has the Krang very very angry at Leo and lashing out at him#both of these times has Leo ‘ruining’ a mission so…bad parallels#in the movie as well there’s a Krangified Raph who beats Leo senseless#so I have to wonder if Raph and Leo just…can’t roughhouse anymore#else Leo would flinch or Raph would be so scared to accidentally hurt Leo like he was already used to do before#then suddenly their usual dynamic of Raph never having to be softer with Leo is thrown on its head#worse is if they’re so terrified of this dynamic leaving that they power through their own sufferings to maintain it
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They’re really interesting foils in many ways. I’ve always thought that Marcille & Mithrun have underrated dynamic potential. Give me the cringefail dungeon lords. Give me the elves with ears-centric metaphorical self-image issues. Give me the academic elites whose deepest strongest desires will always remain unreachable and the only option is to turn to the corrupt forbidden fruit of a demon pact. I am so so normal about Mithrun and Marcille
I wonder if the resemblance between captain Mithrun and general Hagreus aka Marcille’s fave in Dalclan is intentional… They definitely look very alike. It could represent idealization vs reality? Something something the romanticization of elves and their societal drama in their fiction vs a very real and imperfect product of their military system. The canaries certainly aren’t glamorous next to whatever Hagreus is the general of. I feel like she never had the opportunity to notice the resemblance herself bc within seconds of meeting him he was wrestling her on the ground but. If she had… She would so think he should have been his actor in the tallman stage play of Daltian Clan in that new extra comic hehe. I love the little details like Hagreus’ lips being drawn with extra details because they’re full and pretty while Mithrun’s lips are drawn with extra details because they’re chapped lmao.
This art is all silly and surface level but in my head mithrille is like so dramatic and I make up daltian clan level big plots with them gbdgd. I made a spotify playlist for mithrun if y’all interested, rn it’s mostly centered around cravings that consume and losing yourself and illusions inspired from his time as dungeon lord but it’s branching out. Varied vibes, levels of intensity and degrees of confusion and await you ✨ I would emotionally rant about Chainsaw Man ost lyrics and how they tie in with Mithrun and the winged lion’s relationship but this post is already a monster
I want more of these two please please please pleaseee just one or two interactions in the new canon content coming up… All they ever did was debate philosophy on desires and human self-fulfillment and try to murder each other, please… I never get to gush about them and I can’t shut up so if you want more thoughts I talk about them more below
To get a girl to peacefully accept arrest follow these simple steps: in private, ominously stand above her and forcefully interrogate her, while in public, tell her you’ve met before (untrue and also not a pickup line) and interrogate her with a thin veneer of decorum. If all else fails, threaten and follow through on said threat. My guy needs more than just physical therapy I’m afraid
Sorry if most of these were Marcille-centric with Mithrun standing there looking cool, if I were doing these more from Mithrun’s pov things would be like "She’s a bit much but I guess I don’t mind hanging around her." or "Oh you’re a half-elf? -insert elven supremacist rethoric-" or "I have to keep her from becoming demon stew." immediately followed by "Did someone say demon? Kill kill kill kill kill" since these are set prior to like really knowing another. Then things would be more like "huh she has bad tastes in novels but her magic research is pretty interesting" and "I’m lonely and don’t understand myself— Oh she loves talking about feelings? Oh shi-" That last one is an aspect of why I like Marcille and Mithrun’s potential dynamic lol. She’s very… Emotionally intelligent alongside being impulsive. You think you have no feelings because the world has beaten them out of you? Think again!! Marcille be upon ye! -In a therapy sort of way but mostly in a connecting with people and your own self through interpersonal relationships and talking kinda way. I just think a lively, upbeat, annoying friend way too interested in your personal life would do him good, the canaries are nice but like if Marcille went to prison and was a sort of extra new bunkmate I think that’d be interesting and fun to read is what I’m saying
Unlike Kabru she wants all the useless messy filler of his backstory, eating chips while listening. Like two chibi sets side by side, "me and my fellow canaries, name name and name-" "Hold on that’s too much info we have to compact this" vs "Then we were to sleep on the third floor of the dungeon, which had the look of a mausoleum, and name and name got into a fight over the campfire placement." while Marcille is like uh-huh what next what next while kicking her feet. She thinks of pre-dungeon pompous Mithrun and is like omg you went through a character arc and became better as a person- and then he opens his mouth and she’s like nevermind let’s keep working on that. She would also go "ew ur hair is greasy" and give him a full hair care treatment. What I’m saying is I need them to be forced to spend time in a dungeon together and become besties through a life or death roadtrip
Marcille is insecure about her ears, long, like an elf’s pride should be, but rounder, inelegant. Seeing Mithrun though, the epitome of beauty, with his half-cut ears make it a sillier thought. Not sure if Mithrun is the best person to reconnect with ur elven culture with but it sure is an option Marcille would so appreciate being around someone both cool headed and kind, I genuinely think they’d get along, like not that Senshi isn’t that too most of the time but I think Mithrun would be in a way that’s more refreshing to her. I’d be so curious about them discussing Dalclan, I doubt he’d have read it but she could make him read it, maybe post-canon with the excuse that they’re trying to find him a new hobby hah. He’d tear into the writing and everything but it’d be a fun time, I like to think that it’d make him a bit less prejudiced. Marcille @ Mithrun "👉👈 Soo maybe you don’t know these books they’re pretty recent having come out 50 years ago but…"
I’ve been in a Mithrun phase I want to make and read Mithrun-centric fics and angst so baaad. I razz him a lot here but he’s literally a traumatized military man that became obsessed with revenge due to bad coping and neglects himself in the process idk not much for him going on and some of it is because he has to work on himself, but hey no one’s perfect it all comes from a place of love and relating though I prommy. He’s the one ungodly angsty squeaky toy blorbo with brain damage rep I have don’t take him from me
#Dungeon meshi#mithrun#marcille donato#I feel like i haven’t drawn in so long i’m so rusty#Mithrille#Mithrun x marcille#Marcille x mithrun#I finally did smth for these 2 yippee#Dust and dog hairs manage to get on my drawings while i take pics it drives me mad i can’t do this anymore sorry if you see any#Continuation of my Marcille: “LET ME LOVE YOU!!” saga#Sorry marcille i hate drawing your sleeves#There are a couple things I’m not satisfied with and might redraw at one point but i need to stop and get stuff done#Marcille has 5 cm of height on mithrun according to the adventurers bible neat#Spoilers#dungeon meshi manga spoilers#I’ll move those last two tags up when I get to my computer#Character playlist#I made a more formal mithrille post on another blog explaining what potential i saw in them just search in the ship tag if you’re intereste
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