Y'all know those insecure girlfriends on tiktok when their boyfriend does their makeup accurately, they go “what bitch taught you that?” yeah, Gojo is the male version of that.
He knows he is attractive, and that everyone dotes on him. But you look out of this world. Everybody wants you. Like all of his friends have tried to hit on you a few times. They said it's just playful, but his insecurities kicked in.
One evening, you showed up to one of his totally unserious basketball games with his homies, cheering him every time he dunks.
“Suguru, my girl's watchin'. Gotta show off a bit, yeah?” he smirks, licking his lips his reflexes were so good that barely anyone else could keep up with him. It was like he had drank 10 liters of energy drink with the sudden speed boost.
You hopped in his arms when the match was over, peppering his face with kisses as he enjoyed his victory, showing a middle finger to suguru to which he rolled his eyes.
“you look so cool when you jump so high, toru!” you squealed in happiness. He really did look cool.
“hehe, you liked that, baby? Jumped a little higher just for you.” he kissed your forehead.
“hate to say it, but he is undefeated.” suguru spoke up. “feel like we need to put you on the court, y/n just to distract him so we can win.” your cheeks started burning up at that. You and satoru have been dating for a few months, but you were still not used to the way everyone talks about him as if he's a simp for you. well, he is and should be.
“i would still win though.” your eyes shifted to gojo. You were a little offended at that, even though it was just messing around. It was his habit.
“alright. Let's have a 1v1” the men did not miss the shift of your tone. Suguru knew satoru might be in trouble, while the white haired wasn't worrying about it too much. Because you're not too savvy with basketball aside from what he's taught you, and he is a pro. Sure, you would be mad later, but nothing he can't make up to you.
The boys spread in corners, as you and gojo exchanged a competitive gaze—yours was competitive and his was more of a “i love when you get riled up”—before the match began. The game was not anything serious, so all you had to do was score five points. It was a piece pf cake for gojo but you were being surprisingly competitive. You scored two points just as soon as he did. His homeboys thought that gojo was going easy on you but suguru knew he was struggling. But he lives up to his name and score two points, making him just 1 score away from his sweet victory. There's no way you can win now. If you miss this chance, it's over. But you remembered something someone had taught you and all that “i'd still win though” just pumped up enough adrenaline and oh. my. god.
Gojo's jaw dropped as you shot a three pointer, your lips widening into an evil grin, and all the boys cheered at your win. You were sure they're gonna tease him about today until eternity. Toru was impressed…well, for a few seconds before he hit you with a,
“which motherfucker taught you that? because I don't remember teaching you this yet.” you were laughing but his reaction was genuine.
“hey, c'mon now. don't call me a motherfucker.” suguru slid in, a hand resting on gojo's arm. “i'm a good teacher, aren't I?” he winked at you.
“the fuck? When the fuck did you teach her?”
“last week when we were playing at toji's party.” gojo was too busy playing beer bong at that time.
“thank you, suguru. And you…" you looked at your man, "where is allat “but I'd still win though” attitude?” you mocked him.
“ight fine. you got me. i was just messin' around and ya'know that. don't get mad at me, baby,” he snaked an arm around your waist. “we're both winners. We gotta celebrate properly, right?” he leaned closer to your ears.
“now let's see who wins in the bedroom, tonight. hmm? You know i gotta settle the score, princess.”
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When Steve picks up the phone, he can hear Eddie laughing before he’s even said a word.
“What?” Steve says through a smile; he’s used to this now, phone calls that happen for no real reason. Robin had gotten him well and truly accustomed to it: months of rambling conversations—with occasional interjections from Mr Buckley, chuckling as he warned Robin that she was gonna trip over the cord.
“I need your help,” Eddie says, amusement still evident in his voice, “it’s to win an argument.”
“Oh, is that all I am to you?” Steve acts like he’s going to hang up, covering the receiver with his hand so it sounds muffled.
“No, no!” Eddie’s laughing again. “Don’t go.”
Steve removes his hand, his smile growing. “All right, jeez. What’s up?”
“Okay, back me up here ‘cause Dustin and Lucas did not believe me. There was—we had an old gym teacher, right? He, like, towered above us, man, had a moustache, like what do you call it when it’s all—”
Steve feels another wave of affection; he knows that Eddie will be unconsciously demonstrating what the moustache looks like, despite the fact that they can’t see each other.
“—uh, bristly, you know what I—?”
“Yeah,” Steve says, “Mr Wilson. Didn’t he leave a couple years ago? Super mean for no reason, dude had a stick up his—”
“Yes!” Eddie crows in triumph. “I knew you’d remember, I knew it.”
Steve shakes his head fondly—Eddie’s making it sound far more impressive than it actually is, like he’s just sunk the winning shot or something. Like Eddie has an unshakeable belief in him.
“God, he was the worst. He was the one that was obsessed with cross-country, right—”
“Oh, Jesus Christ, yeah,” Eddie says. “It was actually scary. I swear he got some kinda evil kick out of it whenever it rained, like he’d hope we drowned out there or—”
Steve makes a vague hum of agreement; there’s a flash of the familiar in Eddie’s words, the memory of mud and rain against his skin. And…
“Shit, didn’t you…? Did you fall one time, I remember you limping?”
Steve’s recollection of it is fuzzy—like a lot of things were in the winter of ‘84—but as he talks, the more he grows certain; it makes sense of a momentary instinct he’d had in The Upside Down, as the earth shook: seeing Eddie fall out the corner of his eye, and suddenly wanting to check whether he rolled his ankle.
“Uh, yeah.” Eddie chuckles slightly—there’s a thread of embarrassment in the sound. Didn’t think—um, sorta hoped you wouldn’t remember that, honestly.”
“I don’t really,” Steve says, then winces. “That sounds bad. I just meant—”
“No, it’s okay,” Eddie says. Steve can hear how he’s smiling. “Better for my ego this way.” He pauses. “You were really sweet about it at the time.”
He moves on quickly—Steve knows that’s partly just Eddie being himself, how he joyfully leaps from one topic to the next. But he doesn’t think he’s imagining the flicker of something shy, the softness in Eddie’s voice, you were really sweet about it.
Steve makes sure to commit it to memory.
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on your knees - c.s.
Cairo Sweet x Fem!Reader
Summary: It’s Valentine’s day and Cairo really needs a date.
Word Count: idk i’ll fill it later
A/N: Hiii, here to feed my babies. Beware the last few parts because i did nawt proofread this. Will come back to edit it eventually! Thanks for all the love
“Come onnnnn, go on a date with me?” The girl in front of you practically begs, leaning forward till her whole body is pressed up to the front of your desk.
“Very funny.” You tell her, dryly.
Cairo’s been whining all week about not having a valentine’s date, but you don’t know why she specifically chooses to whine to you about it. After all, you had heard from around school she had a crush on Mr.Miller.
Your nose crinkles in disgust at the thought. Their coupling would be wild at best, and illegal (not to mention boring) at worst. It would be like seeing Einstein and an Instagram model holding hands. Except Mr. Miller wasn’t Einstein, he was Henry Miller. A spectacularly boring middle aged white guy.
To be completely transparent, you wouldn’t have minded going on a date with Cairo. Since, truth be told, you might’ve had a (tiny) crush on her.
You let your mind wander, think of what it would be like to take her out. The perfect date.
She loves nature, so it would be outdoors for sure. She doesn’t love extravagant gestures, you’d probably make her a little picnic. Your train of thought is cut short by the evil voice that tells you she could be fantasizing about a certain professor on your imaginary date.
Cairo breaks your daydreaming by falling to her knees beside your chair, hitting the carpet with a loud thud.
Your eyes widen, and you quickly grab her shoulders and try to push her up, but she refuses. For such a small girl, she sure had a lot of strength.
“What do you want me to do, beg? I can beg.” She tells you, still on her knees, dress pooling atop the rug.
You’re ashamed to admit the position has a bit of an effect on you. But who could blame you? Anyone would be flustered if Cairo Sweet was looking up at them like that…
It’s a little awe inspiring, seeing Cairo so, desperate. You’re not sure what’s brought this all on, but the cold cut Cairo you once knew has disappeared completely from the equation.
“Cairo.” You hiss, eyes darting between the door and the girl in front of you, praying that no one comes in.
“What’s it gonna take for you to go on a date with me?” She whines again, reaching for your shirt cuffs for something to hang onto.
There’s a swoosh and a quiet “oh!” that brings your attention back to the door.
Mr. Miller.
He stands somewhat awkwardly, smiling the type of smile that somehow indicates he’s unhappy. His eyes narrow when he notices it’s Cairo on the floor, his beloved teacher’s pet.
Okay, now you really need Cairo to get up. You support (force) her up and onto half of your chair, reprimanding her quietly as Miller walks past, coughing.
She straightens only slightly before settling once again on your lap, claiming it’s more comfortable and “a more suitable place for her to focus on her studies”.
“Why don’t you just sit at your desk, hm?” You point at the table, a single chair, smack dab in the middle of the classroom, in front of Mr.Miller. She was such a nerd.
She stares back at you blankly, big brown eyes making you a little distracted.
“That’s not mine.” She says, and you breathe out a laugh. The tension breaks. Her eyes crinkle lightly at the sound.
“You’re so weird.” You mumble, but allow her to sit further into your lap, no doubt much more comfy than her previous position.
“Can I sit here the rest of the class?” She asks, a little bashfully. You give her a pointed look, but nod nonetheless.
“Whatever you want.” You tell her, and she seems happy with that, taking her laptop and notebook out, ready to learn.
You see her lock eyes with Mr. Miller, who looks very confused. She smiles shyly and breaks the contact by nudging herself into the crook of your neck.
Oh.
Maybe all this was just to make Mr.Miller jealous.
You frown at the disturbing thought. Cairo’s breath tingles your skin as she tilts her head up so her lips are right beside your ear. The sensation makes you shiver, quite unwillingly.
“Now will you go on a date with me?” She whispers, huskily. Her confidence has returned, cocky like the Cairo you know so well.
You weigh your options.
You do really want her to get away from Mr.Miller…it might be a good time to slap some sense into the young girl.
“Alright.” You say curtly, already regretting your decision.
Cairo removes herself from your neck, smiling wide. For a second it quells your anxieties, her milky white pearls blinding.
She turns back as more students start filing in, ready yet again to learn.
You can’t focus for the duration of the class, mind wandering. Valentine’s day was tomorrow, what were you going to say? What were you going to do?
You stay quiet until class ends and all the way while you walk her back to her home. Cairo pokes at you a couple times to try and get you out of your head.
“Don’t forget flowers!” Cairo teasingly yells from ahead of you, already one foot into her house. You straighten up, dumbly answer with a “You got it!” and a face palm once she’s out of sight.
-
Okay. This was it. Last night was spent toiling on your bed, writing a script of what you’ll tell Cairo, prepared lillies- her favorite flowers, and a batch of the best things you could possibly find in your fridge.
Bread, butter, freshly sliced tomatoes, lettuce, and two slices of turkey left, you’re all ready and set.
The script is tucked away into the back pocket of your jeans, snug and cozy. It radiates warmth that makes you think it’d be terribly rude to ever take it out.
You sit down onto the grass, arms on both sides straightened, palms rubbing uncomfortably with the tablecloth.
“I shouldn’t be this nervous.” You remind yourself, but it does almost nothing to quell your worries.
You can’t keep lying to yourself, the truth swims in your head and you’re afraid it’s going to leave your lips the second Cairo arrives. You aren’t nervous about the letter, or anything to do with Mr.Miller. In fact, you’re nervous about the date.
A tiny part of you, no matter how much you try and shun it away, hopes that, maybe, just maybe, if Cairo liked this date, she might start liking you.
The minutes count themselves down too fast, and it’s almost time. You sit straighter, checking your shirt for any wrinkles.
You see a tiny figure make it’s way onto the lawn, and you have to bite back a smile when you realize it’s Cairo.
She looks almost shy as she walks up to you, twiddling with her thumbs.
It’s like a wave washes over you when you finally see her up close. She’s wearing a gray turtleneck, with a denim jacket over it, hair all nice and wavy. She looks unbelievably good.
It takes a second for you to grab your bearings and act like you weren’t just blatantly staring at her.
“You look beautiful.” You say, as casual as you can muster, and Cairo breaks out into a smile. You notice she’s wearing water liner, and it makes your knees feel like jelly. She’s only ever done makeup like this once, during your school dance, and it had all but made you swoon.
“Yeah?” She muses, mindlessly. Bending down and sitting on your makeshift picnic cloth.
“Yeah.” You breathe, even though you can tell she didn’t really need an answer to that. She reaches for your face, pushing a stray hair back.
“You look good too.” Is what she comments, all soft like.
You’re a little ashamed to admit you dressed up particularly for this occasion. Some rosy pink blush, your favorite lipstick just for her.
You cough awkwardly, and it breaks you both out of your trance. You reach for the food and serve her her plate.
You get a good while into talking and laughing that you bring up Mr. Miller.
“So…do you have your eye on anybody right now?” You ask nonchalantly, pretending like you haven’t mapped this whole conversation out in your head a million times.
Something flashes in her eyes but it disappears so quick you can’t tell what it is.
“You know you can tell me anything,right?” You tell her, and you mean it. Whatever or whoever it was, you’d be fine with it. You wouldn’t just stop being friends with her because of complicated feelings. She mattered more to you than that.
She bites her lip, then speaks quick, like she has to get it out before she overthinks too much.
“Yeah I am interested in someone. In this school, actually.” She says.
You feel your heart drop to your ass, you’d hoped against hope that the rumor wasn’t true- but with this new information, it had to be.
So much for ‘being okay with anything.’ That’s it. It’s over for me.
“Oh?” You try and ask, but it comes out as a little squeak. Cairo shoots you a weird look, but continues telling you about it.
“Yeah…I really like her. I just, I don’t know if I should pursue it.” She purses her lips.
Now it’s really time for your heart to flip. Her? Did she say ‘her?’
“Yeah, I did.” She confirms, small smirk playing on her crimson lips.
“Shit, did I say that out loud?” You ask her, cheeks heating up immediately. She gives you a quick nod.
Oh god.
“You like a girl?” You ask again, disbelieving.
This time she huffs, sounding almost impatient.
“Yes, I like a girl.” She says, exasperated, with a bit of bite in her tone. Something defensive and possibly jealous stirs up in you fast and quick. Why does she look annoyed?
You can’t help but answer in the same way.
“Okay, so who is it that you like so much?” You ask pointedly. The fire in her eyes that was there just moments before simmers, and just like that, she reverts back to her normal self. It’s almost concerning how she does it so quick, like the flip of a switch.
She suddenly looks nervous again. You give her a small encouraging nod, take her hand in yours as support. They tremble slightly.
“I like you. And I know you probably-” She continues but all you can hear are the echos of her first statement.
I like you. I like you. I like you.
I like you.
You retract from her hands, surprised beyond belief. You regret it immediately when her smile drops.
Her mouth is moving rapidly, and you use the best of your abilities to try and hear what she’s saying.
“I mean why do you think I even begged you on this date? I swear your head is so thick-“ Her words pass through your ears in intervals, and finally, after she’s done, and looking at you expectedly, all you can do is croak out a weak, “You don’t have a crush on Mr. Miller?”
Cairo blinks once, twice.
“What?” But there’s no fear or judgement or any hint of any emotion except disbelief.
Huh, so she didn’t know about the rumor.
“Who said I have a crush on Mr.Miller?” She asks, nose scrunching in disgust. You sigh, looking up to the sky and thanking god.
At this revelation, you’re elated. You scooch just a tad closer and tell her about the rumor. When you’re done, you expect someone shocked, or weirded out, but all she does is letout a hefty laugh.
“God, just because I like a class doesn’t mean I want to fuck the teacher.” She smiles, and you marvel in the way she’s able to shake it off so easy. She’s always been like that, carefree.
You let your mind wander to what she said before. She turns her head to look at the scenery, allowing you guys to sit in comfortable silence.
You say her name, a simple sound, but it makes her look up into your eyes, curious.
“Did you really mean what you said? You like me?” You ask, soft.
She gives an adamant nod, assuring she really does. God, you could not focus right now. She looks so pretty.
“I like you too. Like, a lot.” You breathe, and watch as her eyes sparkle.
“Really?” She blinks, in a state of vulnerability you’ve never seen. You can’t believe that she wouldn’t believe it. You give her the same nod, grin breaking out on your face.
“Can I kiss you?” She asks, gaze fluttering between your eyes and your lips.
It’s all you’ve ever wanted- you can’t even speak.
Her kiss isn’t what you’ve always imagined. Something soft, something gentle. That’s how it always was with the first kiss. You should’ve guessed long ago Cairo wasn’t just anyone.
She surges in, grabbing your face tight like if she lets go you’ll disintegrate. She’s so rough, and you can’t get enough of it. She climbs over your body and settles in your lap, grabbing the collar of your shirt to deepen the kiss.
You break away when it gets too much, both of you panting. Her cheeks are now another shade of pink you can be proud of causing; her hair messed up in a way that makes you want to grab her and kiss her again. And so you do.
You guys stay like that, laughing and talking and kissing till it’s dark out.
“It’s a good thing I forced you on this date, isn’t it?” She muses, rolling in your arms.
You giggle, high from the endorphins.
“You didn’t force me, it was a two person thing.” You try and justify, hoping she doesn’t think you didn’t want the date.
“It’s sweet of you to say that, but we both know you would’ve never asked me out.” She tells you, booping her nose against yours.
“Oh shut up.” And you take her lips in another kiss before she can retort.
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