#he looks good but just a little goofy which suits him. but still | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

dulcesiabits · 5 months

Text

stars you only see during the day.

summary: reo mikage needs a date for his parties, and you need something to do during the summer. What could possibly go wrong when you both enter a contractual relationship?

notes: 11k words, fic, author's notes, fake dating, trying to capture goofy summer fun romcom vibes

Swanky parties like this are so not your style.

Lavishly dressed guests buzz in little groups, sporting designer handbags and miles of silk that cost more than your entire house. Tropical fishes swim in tranquility through the glass tanks of the walls, which cast blue light over the white tablecloths and platters of prime cut roasts and elaborately crafted desserts dusted in gold dust.

Honestly, you wouldn’t normally have been allowed into a place like this; the security guards would have taken one look at your sneakers and chain store jeans and told you to go home. But you’re not here as a guest. No, your sister has hooked you up with a gig as a caterer, so you’re actually one of the invisible waitstaff in a stiff black vest and white collared shirt, drifting amongst the crowd, serving rich people their fancy little foods.

“It pays well,” your sister had pronounced, batting her eyelashes at you. “Come on. You’re always strapped for cash. I promise it’ll be worth it.”

“And if it’s so good, why aren’t you going?” you had asked her dryly.

She wrinkled her nose. “I don’t have the time. Otherwise I’d be hustling with you. Come on, do it for me! It’ll be fun! The place will be nice, promise!”

Nice is an understatement for how decadent the place is. If you were to break something here, you think your family would be in debt for the next seven generations over. But since you’re captive to your need for money, you try to skirt past the pricer decorations.

Still. Your sister is right in that this is a simple, and more importantly, well-paying, gig. Get in, walk around aimlessly with a platter in your hand, and get out. That’s all you were looking forward to, really: the paycheck at the end of this. You vaguely recognize some of the guests– probably from the news or on social media, A-list celebrities and trust fund babies– but you don’t care enough to take a closer look.

It’s been a few hours into your shift, and your arm is starting to cramp from carrying around a silver plate for most of the evening. The little shrimp on your plate are dwindling, and you rotate around the room slowly one last time to tempt people to grab your food. Then, you can take a break and put up your feet, and maybe sneak a little bit of the fancy food to try yourself; after all, you heard that some of the ingredients were imported straight from Europe.

You pass by a pack of guests knotted together near a table, and one of them bumps into you with enough force to make you stumble, some youngish looking man in a white suit and slicked-back bleached hair. He barely spares you a glance.

“Watch where you’re going or I’ll get you kicked out,” he snarls.

“Right. Sorry, sir,” you say blandly, fighting back the urge to strangle him and ask “who the hell do you think you are?” Your sister has warned you to stay out of trouble, after all.

“Don’t bother the waitstaff, Takei-san,” someone says just as Takei sneers, opening his mouth to berate you some more, probably. He looks the type. But Takei’s head swivels back around so fast it makes you dizzy. You crane your head, just in time to catch the owner of the voice: a boy with a flute of fizzy water in his hand. He’s cute, with uneven bangs and a dove gray suit, and probably around your age, if not a little older.

“I wouldn’t dream of it, Mikage-san,” Takei simpers. “Ah, but we have more important matters to discuss, don’t we? What do you think about meeting my sister? She’s lovely, and she’s around your age. Just say the word, and I can arrange a meeting!”

Mikage? Is that the boy’s name? It’s familiar. You’ve seen it on social media a few times; maybe this boy is a lot more famous than you thought. He’s a corporate heir, if you remember correctly. Mikage catches your eye and inclines his head, as if to say you were free to go.

“I would have to think about it, Takei-san,” Mikage replies, turning back to Takei. If there’s one thing you can pride yourself on, it’s how to read people, and there’s plenty to dissect from Mikage’s tense body posture. There’s a smile on his face, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. In fact, he looks a little bored, underneath that veneer of politeness. Bored, and strangely vacant, as if the uppercrust of Japan’s society weren’t more interesting than the blades of grass outside of his window.

Normally, you would shrug, go “that sucks for him,” and run back to the break room as soon as you could. The problems of fancy rich boys aren’t really your business. But it’s been a long night, and you’re a little antsy (your troublemaking instinct, as your sister calls it). That, and maybe you’ve watched too many romcoms and dramas with your sister recently, too, because he’s cute. And, well, you should at least try to help out the guy who helped you, right? Tic for tat, and all that, even if it was a small thing on his part.

But none of your justifications to yourself really matter, because you’re already sliding your way into the crowd until you’re at Mikage’s elbow, saying, “sir?”

He inclines his head at you without really looking at you. “Yes?”

“There’s someone looking for you,” you say blandly. “They were impatient. It seemed important.”

“Hm? Did they tell you their name?” Mikage asks.

“Didn’t quite catch it, but it’s urgent,” you stress.

Mikage’s eyes widen, just slightly, and you can see the puzzle pieces coming together in his head. He must have picked up on what you were doing, because he nods gravely, and says, “I should head over, then. It’s probably Yasuhiro-san. Can’t keep a board member waiting.”

“Ah, but Mikage-san–” Takei’s mouth is slightly slack, and he glares at you when you catch his eye. What did you even do to him? Is he mad that you’re taking Mikage’s attention off of him?

“I should go.” Mikage extracts himself from the crowd, who all groan in disappointment. As the two of you leave, you make sure to subtly dig the heel of your shoe onto Takei’s foot, who yelps.

“What the– Did you just step on– Hey! Stop!”

But you’re speeding off with Mikage at your side, and you try not to grin when you imagine Takei’s red, angry face.

Mikage snorts, but when you glance at him, he’s passed it off as a cough, turning his face into the crook of his elbow. “You’re a bit clumsy, aren’t you?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you say primly, and this time, Mikage doesn’t hide his laugh. To keep up your ruse, you lead Mikage into a hallway, where rows of imported European impressionist art stretch along the walls, your footsteps sinking into the plush burgundy carpet.

“So… I have to be honest,” you say. “There isn’t someone asking for your presence. I made it up to get you out of there. Surprise!” You wave your hands.

Mikage crosses his arms. “So why did you do that, then?”

“You helped me, so I helped you,” you say simply. “Besides, you looked bored.”

In the darkness, Mikage is reduced to shadowy shapes, but you can still feel the force of his gaze, like a lighthouse cutting through the darkness. He’s appraising you, and it sends tingles down your spine.

“Huh.” That’s all Mikage says, and you wonder if you passed whatever mental evaluation he was doing.

The platter is still in your hands, and there’s still a few shrimp left, so you grab one and shove it into your mouth. You chew, savoring the freshness, and the tangy sauce it’s coated in.

Wait. It’d be rude to just eat in front of someone, without even asking if they’re hungry. You offer Mikage the plate. “Want one?”

“S… sure,” he says, carefully plucking a shrimp between his thumb and forefinger, before placing it on his tongue. The two of you pass the platter back and forth between each other until it’s empty.

“That was good!” You stretch your arms over your head. “I wanted to try at least some of the food at this party before I went home. There’s nothing else really going for this place. No offense,” you add.

“None taken. You’re… huh.”

“Weird? Bold?” you supplement. “I’ve heard it all.”

“No, I was going to say you’re interesting,” Mikage says quickly.

You roll your eyes. “Interesting? Like a dog?”

“I would say you remind me more of a hamster,” Mikage says.

“A hamster? Really? What if I bit you right now?”

“I’m not sure you could do much to me.”

“I wouldn’t want to damage my teeth, anyways,” you quip. The noise of the party leaks into the hallway, and you glance back through the door. “I should get back. I don’t want to give anyone an excuse to dock my pay.”

Before you can move a step, Mikage holds out a hand. He takes a breath, as if coming to some sort of internal decision. “Wait. What if… I hired you for something else?”

“For… what?”

“What if I hired you to stand around and talk to me?”

You take a step back. “Um… I’m a first year in high school, just so you know. I don’t want to do anything weird.”

“Wh– No!” Mikage says, his veneer of poise sliding right off and shattering onto the floor. “I didn’t mean it like that! I’m not asking you to– I just– I’m only a second year!” he adds.

“Takei did offer to introduce you to his sister back there,” you say wryly, jerking your thumb towards the party. “And, like, I don’t know much about your life, but if you’re desperate enough for company, there’s dating apps. Just… uh… hang in there.”

Mikage runs a hand along his face. “I’m not desperate. I’m the most popular guy in my class, just so you know.”

“Okay…”

“I wanted to ask if you would date me,” he says, “Fake date me. Because people like Takei keep trying to jump down my back and draw me into political marriages. We can draw up a contract to make it official,” he adds hastily. “I just need someone to come with me to parties like this as my partner.”

“And why would I do that?”

“Because you’re interesting,” he says simply. “Besides… you would get to eat as much shrimp as you want. Without having to sneak them off of plates.”

“I don’t know,” you say coyly, looking down at your fingers. “I don’t really like doing boring things.”

“It won’t be boring.” Mikage takes a step towards you, confidence in his face, a hand on his chest. “I’ll ensure everyday is fun for you.”

You can already imagine what your sister will say when you tell her what happened today. No doubt she and your older brother would both groan at your carelessness. What if this is some sort of prank, or fancy trick? Oh well! You’ll just have to take your chances.

You stick out your hand. Mikage takes it without hesitation. “Okay, you’ve got yourself a deal. But if it’s boring, then I’m going to leave you, Mikage,” you warn.

“Hah. You’ll never have a reason to,” Mikage says confidently. “But call me Reo.”

You raise an eyebrow. “We just met, and you want me to call you by your first name? Moving fast, are we?”

“I’m going to be your fake boyfriend,” Mikage says. “Don’t tell me you’re already getting cold feet.”

“Not at all. You can call me by my first name too, Reo,” you emphasize. “I’m looking forward to working with you.”

Reo smiles, squeezing your hand once before firmly shaking it. “Likewise, partner.”

Well. This certainly isn’t what you expected to get up to when your sister offered you the job, and there are a thousand ways this could blow up in your face. What if Reo is actually a bad person, and tried to sell your organs? Or his mother threw money at you and told you to leave her son because you aren’t good enough for him, just like in every drama you’ve seen?

But this is the most exhilarating opportunity you’ve been offered in a long while. Exciting experiences, and fun opportunities: you’ve always been the first to jump onto those. Besides, Reo is cute, and this deal will definitely be a good story to tell your friends about later. There’s no way this could go wrong.

—

You’re usually never up before 10am, but somehow, at 8am a few days after the party you worked at, you find yourself at a little cafe in Shibuya, blinking blearily in the pale light. Reo, sitting across from you, has a cup of coffee steaming at his elbow, and you privately curse his poise and his nice polo and slacks. How dare he look so put together, especially when you just threw on some clothes from your floor.

“So,” you say, propping your elbows on the table, your cheek pressed against your hand, “What was so urgent that you couldn’t wait for a more decent hour to call me?”

Reo raises an eyebrow. “This is a decent hour. But I wanted to discuss the terms of our contract.”

You stare at him blankly. He snaps his fingers. “Remember? Our deal?”

“Right.” You yawn, and Reo pushes his cup of coffee towards you.

“I haven’t drank any of it yet,” he says. “Have some.”

“So no indirect kiss for me?” you tease, but take a tentative sip of the brew. You wrinkle your nose; it’s bitter and dark, and it stings your mouth as it goes down. “You didn’t put cream in this.”

“I like the way coffee tastes naturally. Besides, the coffee they brew here is through a special drip pour method, to allow the beans to retain maximum flavor…” You take another sip as Reo rambles, and shudder. Well, you were definitely more awake now.

“So, what is this about a contract?” you say.

“I want us to establish some ground rules for our deal, just so we’re both clear on the expectations and procedures for what we’re about to undertake,” Reo begins. He slides a packet of paper across the table, the kind that’s made with cardstock, thick and creamy. It’s neatly formatted, but your eyes glaze at the professional tone and the dry language of the text.

“All right, hit me with it, rich boy,” you say, slouching back in your chair.

“Well, I wanted to establish a basic time frame for our operation, as well as some ground rules, and cover some of the various scenarios you might encounter–” You put up a hand, and Reo pauses.

“Do you have a pen?” you say bluntly.

Reo fishes out a fountain pen from his bag. “I do, but why do you–”

You flip over the packet to the blank backside, and write down a number one. “So! I think it’s really nice of you to get this entire thing prepared for us, but this is too much. We’re high schoolers, and your rules are 15 pages long. Why don’t we make this easier on ourselves?”

Reo purses his lips. “I guess. For the sake of fairness, it’s probably better if we come up with rules together.”

“Great! So, rule number one. We’re going to be fake dating until you stop needing a date to your parties. That’s probably going to be when summer ends, so that’s when our contract ends. Rule number two. I’ll go with you to all your fancy parties, but you have to help me with, like, etiquette and clothes and what to say. I’ll just be your eye candy. Which I absolutely excel at, by the way. Rule number three. I’ll go to as many parties as you want, but you need to give me at least two days’ warning in advance. I have my own life, you know.” You scribble as you talk, and Reo nods at each of your rules. When you pause, you look up to see Reo with furrowed eyebrows.

“Add another rule,” Reo says seriously. “No falling for each other.”

You burst out laughing, dropping the pen in surprise. A few early morning workers stare at you as they walk past, but you can’t bring yourself to stop. “Seriously? Do you think this is a drama?”

“It’s a necessary precaution,” he insists, but his ears are red. “I just want to make it absolutely clear: this is all for show.”

You snort, but move to jot down the rule anyways. “No offense, but you’re not my type at all. That’s not going to be an issue. You’re kinda full of yourself, huh?”

“I’m not! I’m just saying with my specs, it wouldn’t be weird if you–” Reo falters at your pointed stare. “Listen. I’m used to all sorts of people coming up to me. It doesn’t hurt to be careful, okay?”

“Maybe you’re scared of falling for me, Reo,” you say, leaning forward and batting your eyelashes at him. “I understand, though. I’m pretty cute.”

Reo purses his lips. “And no offense to you, but you’re also not my type at all. I prefer people who are more mature.”

You throw your hands up in mock offense. “Wow! Only five minutes since our fake relationship began, and you’re already hurting my feelings.”

“My apology, baby,” Reo says in a cloying tone. “How on earth shall I make it up to you?”

You shudder. “For starters, don’t call me baby ever again. Ick.”

“I don’t–” Reo begins indignantly, but you quickly scribble your signature under your list of rules, before thrusting the paper at him. “What?”

“Sign your name,” you say, “So it’s official. Isn’t that how you business types like to do things?”

“We’re minors. Our signatures don’t count. But if you insist,” Reo says, signing his name with an elegant scrawl.

“Perfect! Now that we’re officially dating, what do we do?” you say.

“What about a date? A practice one,” Reo says hastily. A pity, because now you can’t tease him about how enamored he is with you. “It’ll be easier to act like a couple at parties if we’re more familiar with each other.”

“All right. Come pick me up in two days, then. And at noon,” you add, “Because I don’t want to do an early morning date.”

“What about right now?” Reo protests.

You throw him a withering stare. “First, I’m not dressed for the part. Second, neither of us are prepared. And third, what did I just say about early morning dates? We need a bit of planning time, rich boy, because dates are serious business.”

Reo holds up his hands. “Okay, okay. I got it. I’ll run our plans with you by tomorrow, at the latest. Sounds good?”

You smile. “Great! Sounds like you’ve already got being a good boyfriend down pat. See you in two days, boyfriend.”

—

If there’s one thing Reo is, he’s meticulous. After you part ways, you exchange phone numbers, and true to his word, he blows up your phone with a detailed plan of your first date. He’s so overzealous in planning that you remind him it’s just a practice date, and that it’s better to keep things casual, rather than the boating-fancy restaurant-live musicians extravaganza he has planned.

Two days later, when you ascend from the subway steps into the sticky summer heat and walk a few blocks until the concrete turns to greenery, you find Reo waiting at a nearby park, sunglasses on his face and a wicker basket under his arm.

“Welcome,” Reo says, making a half-bow. “I hope you’re ready for the date of a lifetime.”

“I’m giving you three stars of five,” you say.

“Wh– We haven’t gone on it yet! How can you rate me that low?”

“Two out of five,” you say. “Just for talking back to me and questioning my review.”

“Let’s just hurry up and go,” Reo grumbles.

The two of you glide alongside blossoming trees, white flowers perfuming the air, and cross a stone bridge stretched invitingly along a river. The water rushes cold and clear across gray stones, a weeping willow trailing its graceful limbs on the opposite bank.

When you reach a narrow glade, Reo gallantly unfurls a blanket and spreads it along the grass. From the wicker basket emerges a rainbow of sandwiches, freshly cut fruit slices, and a thermos of tea.

He pours you a cup, and you take a sip as Reo settles down with a sandwich.

“You went through a lot of trouble to set up this contractual date,” you say, picking up a slice of skewered mango. “What’s the point? Couldn’t you just hire someone else?”

“Do you think I could set up an ad, announcing to the world that the Mikage heir is looking for a partner?” he says dryly. “Any of the other people I could have asked run in my parents’ business circle, too, so it wouldn’t have been convenient for me. And I’m not risking my own social standing at school by asking a girl from there. That leaves you.”

You twirl the mango around. “What if I was, like, a bad person, though? And I leaked your personal information or something?”

“I ran a background check on you. You came up clean.”

“What? Hey! That’s not fair. I didn’t get to run one on you,” you protest.

“I’m someone in the public eye,” he says. “Anything you want to know about me, you can look up online.”

To be fair, you had googled his name when you got home after your morning meeting, and scrolled through his various public social media accounts. Not that he needed to know that. Wait, maybe he already did, if he ran a background check on you. Did he have access to your internet history? Okay. Maybe it’s better to stop thinking about that before you drive yourself insane.

“But that’s not the same as getting to know you. The person Mikage Reo is in public, and the person he is in private are two different people. Tell me something juicy. Like, why don’t you just reject any proposals thrown your way instead of getting a fake partner?” you say.

Reo spreads his hands. “Social maneuvering. It’s better to ward off people from sending proposals to me in the first place than it is to reject each and every person who approaches me.”

“Sure. That makes sense. So… then… Haven’t you ever been in love before?”

“What sort of question is that?” he says.

“I’m trying to get to know you,” you declare, “And I’m curious. You can ask me a question like that, too, if you want.”

“I can answer your question. It’s fine.” Reo pours himself a cup of tea. “Being in love… I haven’t. Not yet. I’ve never been interested in romance. Why, have you?”

“I wouldn’t call it love, but I did date a boy back in middle school. Not because I really liked him, but because he thought I was cute, and I liked him well enough as a friend. Didn’t last too long, though. Your turn for a question,” you add.

Reo takes a sip. “Well, I was wondering… do you have any hobbies?”

“That’s a pretty simple question. But I like scrapbooking and volleyball. I like making memories, and I like sports.”

Reo leans forward, a keen interest in his eyes. “Do you like football, then? I run the school’s football club.”

“I’ve only ever played a little with my older brother. He’s the bigger fan,” you admit. “Do you want to play a game one day? I bet I could demolish you.”

“Hah. As if. I’d like to see you try.”

“Don’t regret it later,” you warn, and he laughs. “What do you even like about football?”

“I want to win the world cup,” he says simply. “It’s my dream.” His eyes are reflective, and there’s an edge of seriousness to his tone, an intensity he’s never had before.

You pick up a cucumber sandwich, taking an experimental bite. “When you do, give me an autograph. I can sell it for a million yen.”

“No jokes? I thought you would tell me it’s silly.”

“Well, it sounds like it’s important to you. I’m not going to make fun of something you care about,” you say, amused, shoving the rest of the sandwich into your mouth.

Reo scratches the back of his neck, though there’s a pleased, cat-like smile curling on his face. “Thanks. Do you have a dream?”

“I don’t know if it counts, but I just want to have fun. I want to see new places, and to meet new people, and to experience all sorts of fun things. Isn’t that enough?”

Reo picks up another sandwich, handing it to you, which you demolish in one bite. “I think it is,” he says. “It sounds like you.”

You lick the crumbs off your lips. Reo is a lot more… different, than you thought a corporate heir would be. But it’s nice that it’s easy being with him. Easy, and fun. “I should thank you, actually. This contract is pretty exciting. I’ve never done anything like it before. Thank you, Reo.”

“I don’t know if this is something you should thank me for. But you’re welcome. Thanks for agreeing to go along with me,” he says.

You smile at him, sunshine warm on your shoulders. “So, when’s the first party, boyfriend? I’m pretty excited for it already.”

“Straight to business, huh? Well, it’s in a few days. I’ll text you more details later, and I’ll come pick you up. But hey, before that…” Reo offers you his hand. “Do you want to take a walk? Weather’s nice.”

“Oh! Make sure the car you come in to pick me up is real fancy, okay? My family’s going to be home, and I want to rub it in my brother’s face,” you muse.

“That’s easy. Who do you think I am?”

You don’t hesitate as you slip your hand into his. His grip is soft but strong, and when he pulls you up, for a second, all you can see is Reo, outlined by the glow of the sun.

—

When the sleek black car pulls up to the entrance of your house a few days later, your older siblings are crowded around the window, peeking through the curtains to catch the first glimpse of your date. Your sister whistles, while your brother’s jaw drops.

“What is this?” he says. “What–”

“It’s my date,” you say smugly.

“Your date? Someone wants to go out with you?”

You smack him on the shoulder. “Yeah, unlike you!”

“Does he have money?” your sister asks. “Because good going. Make sure you milk him for what he’s worth.”

“I just– what the hell? No way you got a date before me. And not in that– that car!” your brother complains, rubbing his shoulder, but you’re already skipping out the door.

“Great work, boyfriend,” you say to Reo, blowing him a faux kiss. He’s waiting for you outside the car, already dressed in a navy blue suit.

Reo has an irritating little smirk on his face. “What can I say? My wonderful partner told me to bring a fancy car, and I just had a hard time choosing which one.”

He pulls open the side door for you with an exaggerated flourish, and you slide in. The seats are smooth leather, and the AC is cranked to a cool temperature. There’s more than enough room for a dozen other people, and there’s a mini fridge in the corner that, when you open, is stuffed full of drinks. The windows are tinted, but that doesn’t stop you from rolling it down to wave at your flabbergasted brother before you go, your sister the only one to wave back.

“What do you want me to do at the party?” you say, settling into the supple leather.

“Just stick by my side,” Reo says. “And try not to offend anyone.”

“Done, and done,” you say, throwing him finger guns.

After half an hour, you and Reo chatting to pass the time, the limo pulls to a smooth stop at the end of a gravel-lined driveway. It’s lucky that Reo is the one who helped to choose and sent an outfit to you prior to the party, because all the other guests lounging in the gardens or spilling out the wide open doors are dressed to the nines. You don’t even want to think about the costs of some of those clothes. The inside of the venue is sparkling so brightly that you almost can’t make out any of the decorations; it’s just gold on top of gold on top of gold, but there is, luckily for you, a buffet table in the corner.

As soon as the two of you step foot through the door, you’re swarmed by a pack of guests with glittery smiles. Reo swiftly takes your elbow, pulling you closer to him, and you discretely loop your arm around his.

“Who is this, Mikage-san?” someone says. An actress, you’re sure. Is she eying you with… envy? Okay, that is weird. Wow. You’re pretty sure she’s been nominated for several different awards.

“They’re my date for the night,” he says smoothly.

“How sweet!” the actress says, and after giving you one more side-eye, turns her attention back to Reo.

The rest of the night goes mostly like that, actually. People are curious about you– watching you with a mix of jealousy, judgment and disdain in their eyes– before marking you off as a non-threat and turning back to Reo. It’s exhausting, frankly. How does he deal with it? You’re no chump when it comes to social situations, but this is on a different level. All the fake smiles, the pointed lines, the constant appraising. It’s like being under an endless spotlight; everyone is waiting for you to slip up, just once, to tear you down.

When you glance at Reo, his eyes are distant again, just like they were at that first party. It’s not the Reo you’ve come to know, the Reo who teased you at the picnic and talked about his dreams.

“Cheer up, boyfriend,” you whisper in his ear, resting your hands on his shoulder to speak solely to him. “I think they’re serving shrimp tonight.”

“Oh, your favorite. This time, you don’t need to hide in a hallway to eat them,” Reo whispers back, the ice in his face cracking to reveal a genuine smile. “Let’s go get some.”

After waving off his admirers, the two of you head to the buffet, where you immediately pick up a plate and begin piling up food. Reo wanders off to grab the two of you some drinks.

“Hah? It’s you. They really just let anyone in,” you hear a sneer when you’re halfway through picking up a little chocolate pastry. You glance up, to see a man with slicked back, bleached hair glowering at you, disturbing your little food paradise. Hm? He looks somewhat familiar.

“Who’re you?” you ask, plopping the first pastry on your plate, and grabbing a second pastry just to be safe. Maybe Reo will want one.

“You really don’t remember?” he hisses.

“Huh?”

“You stepped on my foot at a party!” he whispers furiously.

“You were being rude,” you say tartly. That’s enough food. You try to step past him, but Takei jostles you with his shoulder, forcing you back in front of him.

“You were just a server. How the hell did you get in here?”

What the hell? Did Takei think he’s all that, with his self-satisfied smirk and crossed arms?

“I’m on a date, actually,” you say pleasantly. “I was invited here.”

“Hah? Who would be crazy enough to invite you? If you’re lying, then I’m going to get you kicked out of here, just you–”

“Hi, Reo!” you say loudly, cutting Takei off, waving at Reo, who, with perfect timing, has shown up with two sparkling peach-colored drinks in hand.

“Hm? Takei-san, when did you get here?” Reo says.

“Ah– Mikage-san–” Takei’s face pales as he looks from you to Reo, and back to you. “Is… is this person… your date…?”

“Yes,” Reo says, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you close.

You bat your eyelashes at Takei, who looks like he wants to melt into the floor. For good measure, you turn to Reo with a fake little pout. “Reo, I think Takei-san was just saying something about only someone crazy would invite me here. How funny, don’t you think?”

“Very funny,” Reo says coolly. “But I think it’d be best not to make jokes like that about my date, don’t you think, Takei-san?”

“Right– of course– my apologies, Mikage-san,” Takei stammers. “I, ah, I would never think of… I won’t do it again.”

You pluck one of the pastries off your plate and offer it to Takei, who takes it with a twitching eye. “Enjoy the party, Takei-san,” you say in a syrupy sweet voice, watching as Takei stumbles off.

As soon as he’s out of earshot, you elbow Reo. “Nicely done, boyfriend,” you say.

“Takei has always been like that, but you shouldn’t have to put up with it,” Reo says. “Did he bother you?”

“Not too much!”

“I see.” Reo hands you a drink, but there’s a tiny frown twisting at the corners of his mouth as he watches Takei go.

There’s no more incidents after that, thankfully, but there’s a pensive look on Reo’s face that he can’t quite wipe off. What is he thinking? Should you ask? It’s not until the limo pulls up that Reo finally speaks to you.

“I’m sorry Takei was rude to you,” he says.

“It’s okay! It’s not your fault. Unless… you hired him to get on my nerves?” you tease, gravel crunching underfoot.

Reo looks uncharacteristically chagrined as he helps you into the car. “Why would I do that? Still, I put you in that situation, so… what can I do for you as an apology?”

You pretend to purse your lips in thought, tapping your finger against your chin. It’s cute how seriously he takes everything. “Well, Reo, have you ever heard of a little thing called grocery shopping?”

His eyebrows float upwards. “I’m not that out of touch. I do know what grocery shopping is. Do you think I was raised in an ivory tower?”

You grin. “Oh, we’ll see about that, Reo. Come pick me up on Saturday. 9am. Be sure to dress casually.”

—

Just as promised, Reo shows up outside your house at 9am sharp, dressed in a casual button up rolled up to his elbows and pressed slacks. He’s even smart enough to replace the usual limo with a more middle-class car, though it’s as sleek and polished as if it was bought fresh off the lot… which, now that you’re thinking about it, maybe it was.

You snort as you size Reo up, flicking a glance up and down. You’re dressed much more casually, in shorts and flip-flops, and the tote bag you always bring to hold your groceries. “Slacks, Reo? Really?”

He holds up his hands in defense, a golden watch gleaming on his wrist. “What? You said dress casual. So I did.”

You roll your eyes, and when Reo opens the car door for you, you shut it. “That’s like business casual at best. You don’t have jeans? Sweats? You look like you’re taking a break from an office job.”

“Hey. I can’t help it if my standards are higher than other people.” Reo puts his hands in his pockets as you stride confidently down the pavement, and he falls into step beside you. “What are you doing?”

“Taking you grocery shopping,” you say expertly.

“... And you don’t want to drive there?”

“Most people do not drive the car to get groceries, rich boy. There’s a little thing called public transportation, you know. You’re going to learn to do it the old-fashioned pedestrian way.”

“Rich boy…” he mutters. “Can’t you just call me by my name? We are technically dating, you know?”

You stick your tongue out at him. “Exactly. We’re technically dating, so I’m just giving you an affectionate nickname.”

At this, he laughs ruefully. “Affectionate, huh?”

Maybe you’ve been a little too mean to him. You are fond of Reo, even if he makes it a little too easy to tease him. At the next opportunity, you casually loop your arm around his. Reo falters, but doesn’t break step, before pulling you closer. He smells pleasant, a warm citrusy scent, and he’s careful to match his pace to yours so neither of you pull too far ahead or behind.

Without turning to him, you say, “I am affectionate, you know. I know how to spoil my boyfriend.”

“Really, now? Looks like I lucked out by asking you out.” There’s a genuine warmth in Reo’s voice that spills a sunset in your chest. It’s almost like he really likes you, and you’re really dating— but the contract. Don’t forget. You can’t let yourself get too carried away. This is a business deal, nothing more. Also, he would be so obnoxious if he knew how much his words affected you, considering all the crap you said about him not being your type. Still, the traitorous glow in your heart doesn’t go away, no matter how much you try to clamp down and extinguish it.

The market is surprisingly crowded when the two of you arrive. You pick up a basket as Reo stands at the entrance, drinking in the rows of cardboard boxes and tin containers and fresh produce, the housewives strolling down the aisles with children in their carts, the scuffed floor and the gleaming lights.

“We don’t have all day,” you tease. “Come on, Reo. Are you scared?”

“I’m not. It’s just… different,” he says. His eyes are still roaming the store, and you loop your arm around his again. Reo lets you pull him along without stumbling a step.

“It’s better to experience it in person,” you affirm, dragging him to the vegetables. “Help me pick some out.”

Reo’s hands hover a row of brown yams, dirt still clinging to their fuzzy roots. He picks one up for you, and you place a hand on his wrist. “What? Is it not good enough?” he asks.

“You need to put them in a plastic bag first,” you say, pointing to a dispenser roll at the end of the aisle. “You can’t just put the vegetables in the basket!”

Reo sighs in a long suffering way, but leaves and returns with a plastic bag, which you shake open and he drops several yams in, after careful consideration of their size and form.

“Good job, Reo,” you cheer.

“What can I say? I’m a natural,” he says smugly, and you bump him with your hip.

Reo follows you around the grocery store, shadowing your steps like a baby chick. You choose several more vegetables, before moving to the meat aisle and examining the frozen, plastic wrapped cuts. Reo peers over your shoulder as you point at the different cuts of meat, so close that you can feel his warmth despite the chill of the coolers, his breath brushing your cheek every time he talks.

“Which one do you want?” you ask. Normally, you wouldn’t find his closeness a big deal. You’re used to skinship with your friends and family, and Reo is your boyfriend, albeit in name only. But something about his presence makes you feel hyper-aware of his every move. Not that you could ever let him know that.

“What do you think is best?” he muses.

“You can choose,” you say.

“What about that one?” Reo points to a hunk of pork, and you drop it into your basket.

“Sounds good,” you say, quickly moving away from the frozen meat, but the memory of Reo’s warmth isn’t as easy to shake off.

You skim through the aisles of dry goods, picking up items that you remember were running low in your kitchen pantry. Reo follows, and he pauses in front of a row of glass bottles.

“There are so many different brands of soy sauce,” he says. “The chef usually just gets the highest quality brand.”

“Show-off,” you say.

“Hey! I’ll send you some, too!”

It’s not until you’re in front of the snacks that you stop, and spread your arms, as if presenting the rarest of delicacies. “All right, Reo. In exchange for your cooperation for today, you can choose one snack.”

“One snack,” he repeats.

“Yup! That’s what my mom used to say when we went grocery shopping. So I’m extending the honor to you. I’ll pay for anything you choose,” you emphasize. “So choose wisely!”

Reo’s hand skims over the row of snack boxes. “Which one would you recommend?”

“The chocolate mushrooms,” you say immediately. “I got them all the time as a kid, and my sister and I used to fight over who got to eat them, since our mom wouldn’t buy more than one box.”

Reo neatly slides out a yellow box with dancing chocolate mushrooms. “Then this is the one I want.”

“Are you sure?”

“My partner recommended them,” he says primly. “Why not?”

It’s only until you’ve paid for everything, stringing plastic bags alongside your arms (Reo valiantly offers to take a few after failing to persuade you to let him pay for the groceries with his card), that you can slide out Reo’s snack and proffer it to him.

“Thank you, my lovely assistant,” you say, “For braving the perils of the grocery store for me.”

“It was fun. I’ll come with you again, if you want.” He rips open the box, then offers it to you.

“What are you doing?”

“Take some.”

“But it’s your reward,” you protest.

Reo snorts, then shakes out a single chocolate mushroom onto his palm, pinching the biscuit stem between his forefinger and thumb, holding it in front of your mouth. “It’s my reward, so I can do whatever I want with it. And I want to give some to you.”

Without hesitation, you open your mouth, and Reo throws the mushroom in. A familiar chocolatey flavor spreads inside your mouth. Somehow, it tastes sweeter than it usually does.

—

Over the next few weeks, you and Reo settle into a comfortable rhythm. He comes to pick you up every evening, though your brother still has a habit of pressing his face to the living room window to ogle Reo’s various cars. Most of the time, your job at parties is just standing by Reo’s side, occasionally intercepting when someone asks him an uncomfortable question and pulling him away. People tend to ignore you, too, treating you as Reo’s tagalong– which, to be fair, you are. Still, any insults are soothed over by the delicious food you pile up high on your plate, though Reo will steal a bite or two if you’re not careful, despite you pestering him to grab his own plate.

Sometimes, you and Reo exchange glances out of the corner of your eye when someone says something particularly weird. It’s startling how fast you’ve learned to read him and pick up on every little change in his expression. He’s emotional and expressive, and though he doesn’t wear his heart on his sleeve, his moods are still easy to read. He’s a little petty, sometimes, and he holds an assured view of his own success. But he’s easy to tease. You like him, a lot more than you want to admit.

However, one particular party in August shatters the routine you and Reo have set.

For one, this party is held in a mansion, a multitiered decadent cake of a building, with famous paintings and expensive statues dripping from every corner. Hell, the guest list is more famous than you’re used to: celebrity actors and prestigious families from old money, and bodyguards hovering at every angle. Even you can feel the oppressive atmosphere, as much as you try to joke it away.

“Be right back,” Reo says, sighing. He flicks his head at an old man trying to catch his gaze. “One of my father’s board associates.”

“Make sure to bring me a plate of food,” you tease.

“Right. Otherwise, you might go so hungry you’ll start nibbling on me.”

You glower at him, and Reo sticks out his tongue at you, before a professional expression rolls down his face, like a shutter slamming closed.

You don’t have much time to spend alone, though. Because just as Reo steps away, a couple draws closer to you, clad with matching crimson jewelry, and with a posture so uptight and rigid you wonder if they would topple to the floor if someone were to bump into them. It’s uncanny timing, as if they were waiting for Reo to leave, but you smile politely.

Neither attempt to smile back at you. The couple’s eyes gleam like the sheen of a shark’s. Ah. They’re looking for trouble. There’s nothing to protect you from their sharp toothed smiles and narrowed gazes. Reo has vanished out of sight, and no one else seems particularly interested in your predicament.

“So, you’re Mikage-san’s date?” the woman asks politely. “How… quaint.”

“Yes,” the man butts in. “He rarely brings anyone to dinner with him, in all the time we’ve known him, and his parents.”

“My endless charm must have captivated him,” you joke, but the couple only raises their eyebrows.

“Hm. Well, it’s just strange that he would take a liking to… you,” the woman sniffs. “What family are you from?”

“I… My family? Well, I don’t think you would have heard of them.”

“I see,” the man says, with enough disdain that it shreds your bravado to pieces. “I’m not surprised you approached Mikage-san, then. Flies are always attracted to honey, eh? What I’m curious about is how on earth you managed to sink your hooks into him.”

“My hooks?” you say. “Well, no hooks were involved. We just hit it off, and–”

“No need to lie,” the woman intones. “It’s quite unbecoming, though I understand that people of your class can’t help themselves. No manners. No grace. To think Mikage-san would pass up an engagement with our child to chase after… you.”

“Ma’am, I think there must be some kind of mistake,” you begin, but then falter. They were still watching you with keen interest, and your chest tightens. They want you to slip up so they could twist whatever you say and humiliate you, like cats toying with a mouse.

More than that, whatever you say could be used against Reo. What was their relationship with him? It sounds like they’ve known him for a long time. Were they people he couldn’t risk offending? These people aren’t like Takei, a bumbling man trying to suck up to people wealthier than him. You could snark back, consequences be damned, but what if that hurt Reo somehow?

“What mistake are we making?” the woman prompts. “Do tell me.”

You select your words delicately, like you’re stringing pearls along a necklace. “Mikage Reo is a wonderful person. He’s a partner far better than I deserve, and I know this. And he’s cleverer than you give him credit for. I don’t think he would fall for cheap tricks or flirtations. No matter who I am, or what you think of me, I would like it if you didn’t imply that Mikage Reo is any less than what he is.”

The couple pales suddenly. Did your speech have such an effect on them? But a hand lands on your shoulder, and Reo’s voice echoes from behind you. “I hope I’m not interrupting anything, but I need to discuss something with my date.”

“Of course, Mikage-san,” the man stammers, all of his previous aggression gone. “By all means.”

There’s an uncharacteristically tight set to Reo’s jaw as he guides you to a balcony, arm pressed protectively around your waist. It’s not until there’s a layer of glass doors and gauzy curtains between you two and the rest of the party that he whirls around, eyes turbulent. His arm hasn’t moved an inch from your side.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” he grits out. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

You shrug your shoulders. “Oh, you know. I love when people are rude to me.”

“Stop joking around,” Reo says softly. “I’m serious, okay? You just– You could have said something! You’re my date. No one would… I could have said something. If you wanted me to.”

You let out a long sigh. Reo’s arm is still wrapped around your waist, and you impatiently shrug it off. Reo stares at the spot where his arm had once rested, as if not being able to touch you is the worst thing in the world. The fact that he’s sad for your sake– for you, his partner, his fake partner– makes you upset in ways you can’t begin to articulate. It was fine before. It was fun before, to mess around, to play in a world that isn’t really yours. Whatever you have isn’t real, so why does he act like it is? You even promised not to fall for each other. He was the one who suggested that clause.

“Are they people I can afford to offend?” you say tartly. “What sort of relationship do you have with them?”

“I would have covered anything you did–” Reo begins, but you shake your head.

“That isn’t the question. Are they people I could offend to afford? Are they people you need a good relationship with?”

Reo turns his head, and you have your answer.

“I’m not playing the same game as you, Reo,” you say. “This is your world. I’m just a regular person, and I don’t have family or connections or wealth to protect me. All I have is you, and conversely, anything I do can be reflected back on you. If I act out, then they would use me as an excuse to talk badly about you. I didn’t… want that.”

“So it was because of me?” Reo whispers. “ That you had put up with all of that?”

“I didn’t do it just for you,” you say hastily, “So don’t feel bad, okay? I was also looking out for myself, too. Come on, Reo, don’t make that face–” But before you can crack a joke to lighten the atmosphere, Reo pulls you into his arms.

For a few seconds, all you’re aware of is his cologne, some sort of calm, gentle fragrance, and his arms pressed tightly around you, as if he could shelter you from the world by pulling you as close to his body as he could. His hands, resting assuredly on your back. His chin, dipping into the crook of your shoulder. “Wh– What are you trying to pull, Reo?” you squeak, all witty comebacks and jokes fleeing from your head at his touch.

Reo pulls back, just enough so you can see his face, but his hands are still on your shoulders. And– Reo, confident, clever, level-headed Reo– doesn’t look like a self-assured CEO heir or your usual partner in crime. He looks exhausted. Sad. In a way that someone as beautiful as Reo should never look. “I’m sorry,” he says quietly.

“Don’t apologize,” you say gently. You lightly tap his chest with your fist. “Come on. You didn’t do anything wrong. You weren’t the one who insulted me, right?”

“No, I am in the wrong,” Reo says, and before you can move your hand away, Reo cups his hand over your fist, keeping it trapped against his chest. “I thought I could protect you, but that wasn’t what happened. You were the one protecting me.”

“Don’t be so self-deprecating. You’ve helped me a lot,” you scold. “Mikage Reo, we’re partners.”

“Right. Right, partners. We’re partners.” His lips curve into a smile, like the first rays of dawn breaking over the horizon. Reo is so unfairly beautiful, and why does he look especially beautiful when he’s looking at you?

This is dangerous territory. The world is shifting beneath your feet, and you don’t know if you’ll like where you’ll end up when it stops moving. You open your mouth and hastily add, “Because of the contract, you know? We made a promise.”

“The contract. Off course. We did make an agreement,” Reo says, but the warmth in his smile has burnt out, and no longer reaches his eyes.

“Right.” You shiver, and without a word, Reo shrugs off his suit jacket and drapes it across your shoulders. “Reo, you don’t have to…”

“It’s chilly during the summer,” Reo says simply. “I can’t have my… partner getting a cold. Let’s just call it a night.”

You crumple the silky fabric of his suit. It’s still warm from Reo’s body heat. “But the party–”

“Forget about it. You’ve already done your part. Just get some rest, okay? I’ll send you home.”

Reo ushers you through the party, warding off guests with a perfectly placed “my partner isn’t feeling well” and a pleasant smile– his business smile, nothing like the ones he shows you– and then you’re in Reo’s limousine. The two of you are silent on the way back. The streetlight flashes stripes of golden light across his face, but you still can’t tell what he’s thinking. For your part, outside of these quick glances at Reo, you stare out the window, at the lights of the city smearing across the glass.

When you stop by your house, it’s Reo who runs over to hold open your door and to offer you his hand as you step out. His hand lingers for a second longer than it has to before he pulls away.

“Have a good night,” Reo says.

“You, too. Wait, don’t you need your jacket back?” you ask, as Reo turns to go.

“No. You look nice in it. Just give it back to me next time.”

You open your mouth to make a joke about footing the bill, and how you don’t think you could afford the cleaning fees for his name brand clothing– but something in Reo’s gaze makes you bite your tongue. Instead, you wave. The last glance you have of Reo is of his silhouette, leaning against the car door, carefully watching you enter your house before he gets into his car and drives away.

—

For the next week, you keep staring at your phone, waiting for it to buzz. But there’s nothing but radio silence from Reo.

You’ve never felt more restless. Why hasn’t he called you? What do you do? Should you contact him first? Was he mad at you? He was definitely mad at you. You hurt him somehow, with your big mouth. But what were you to each other, really? Strangers? Not really. Friends, maybe. A couple? Definitely not. Somehow, your relationship has slipped out of the neat boundaries you’ve set at the beginning of the summer. It’s uncontainable, something formless and vague, neat labels sliding neatly off of it.

This was supposed to be a relationship of convenience, just a summer fling at most. Two strangers, helping each other out. There was a clear expiration date. Did you have any right to push him? To call him? To mend this?

You just wanted to have fun. Fun wasn’t supposed to come back and bite you in the ass like this. Fun wasn’t supposed to lead to either of you getting hurt. Fun wasn’t supposed to be Reo looking at you like that, like he… cared about you, more than he had to. It was supposed to be easy. Why wasn’t it easy?

He was the one who said that you weren’t his type. To be fair, he wasn’t really your type either. He wasn’t, but… his smile. His teasing words. His hug, tight and desperate, as if he never wanted to let you go. You said you weren’t going to fall for each other. You weren’t supposed to. You aren’t supposed to like him, not in this way. It was even in the stupid contract.

You pace around the living room, thoughts spiraling unendingly in your head, wearing a hole in the carpet as your siblings stare at you, unimpressed.

“Can you stop? I’m getting dizzy,” your brother complains.

Your sister slaps him on the arm. “Stop it. Their boy toy ghosted them, so now they’re sad. Let them mourn.”

“Eh? How’s that my business? Just call him, dork,” your brother commands. “Or show up at his house with flowers or something. Just stop moping.”

“You are so tactless. What the hell is–”

You skirt out of the living room, your siblings’ voices trailing behind you as they bicker. It’s not as if Reo needs to text you. It’s not a big deal. He could just be busy. It’s not as if you’re really his partner or something. You’re just– some person he hired for the summer. That’s all your relationship is. You can’t get disappointed now, not when you drew the line in the sand first.

You sigh, falling into a crouch, staring morosely at your phone screen– before it lights up with an incoming call, and you press answer so fast there’s no time for the ringtone to go off.

“Reo?” you breathe.

“Hi.”

“I thought you were dead! Why didn’t you call me? Or text? I mean, I know you’re busy as a corporate heir, but–”

“I’m sorry,” he says softly. “Are you free right now?”

“Yes? Why?”

“Can you come outside?”

“Uh, yeah. But why didn’t you just text me if you were coming to visit?”

“I wanted to hear your voice.” A pause. “Just forget I said that, okay? See you soon.”

Your heart pounds as you stare at the disconnected call, before you dash up the stairs to check your appearance in the mirror and maybe change to a cuter outfit. A few seconds later, you’re out the door, shoes still half on, and sprinting right into Reo, his car pulled right up to the curb.

“What’s up? Is there a party you want to talk about?” you say, breathless.

Reo opens his mouth, closes it, and then fumbles for the handle of the car door. “Do you want to go somewhere else?” he says, avoiding your eyes.

“Sure,” you say easily. You can sense more than see your brother and sister pressing nosily against the window. No doubt they’d pester you about what was going on when you got home.

The car ride is tense. Reo doesn’t talk to you, and instead stares outside the window the whole time. Is he steeling himself up for something? He glances at you occasionally, then glances away. You circle the same block twice before you impatiently ask the driver to simply drop you off at a random street.

The heat is like a heavy blanket over the city, the perfect embodiment of summer. Somehow, you end up in a nice little plaza. There’s a fountain gurgling behind you, and children playing in the shade under the trees. People stream by, and it’s only you and Reo who are frozen in place.

“What is it that you called me for?” you say.

“What?”

“You have something to say, right?”

Reo looks uneasily out at the sea of people under the blistering sun. “Let’s end our contract,” he says quietly.

You must have misheard. The heat is warping the air in front of your eyes. “Why? There’s still a few weeks left, right?”

“I’m terminating it early.”

“You can’t decide that on your own,” you say indignantly, but your hands are clammy. Your voice comes out reedy and thin, even to your own ears.

“It was going to end eventually. Ending it a few weeks early is no big deal,” he says curtly.

“Why now, though? Is it because of what happened at the last party?” you break in. “That’s no big deal. I can handle people like that.”

“You shouldn’t have to,” he snaps.

“Huh?”

Reo runs a hand through his hair. “You shouldn’t have to put up with people like that.”

“I don’t care.”

“I do,” he says. “I don’t like– I don’t like seeing you hurt.”

“But–!”

“And you’re just doing this for fun, right? It’s not like you have to go with me. If it stops being fun… if it starts making more trouble for you than what it’s worth… you should just leave. It’s like you said,” he says. “This is a contractual relationship.”

What can you say? You and Reo are just… what, exactly? Strangers in a business relationship? Friends, who only came together out of a twisted coincidence? He wasn’t your real boyfriend. You were just acting in a play, and at some point, the curtains had to fall.

“I won’t bother you with something like this again. Just… consider our agreement over, okay? You don’t have to pretend to be my partner anymore.”

He turns, and overwhelming desperation seizes you. If you let him go now, something will change forever, and you’ll never see him again. You’re certain of it. Reo is doing this out of consideration for you. It’s a kindness on his part, but you hate it. You hate it so much you can barely breathe.

“Wait!” He stops. All you can see is his back. What can you say? What sort of joke, or clever remark? What easy thing can repair your relationship? Nothing comes to mind. There’s nothing left, nothing but the truth. “I… I like being with you, Reo. I know I said I want to do whatever is fun, but… the most fun I’ve ever had is by your side. So don’t just… don’t just say it’s over. Was it not fun for you?”

You take a step closer towards him. He doesn’t back away. Another step. All you can hear is the gurgling of the fountain now, and all you can see is Reo. Reo, as beautiful as the sun.

His ears are red. Reo finally turns towards you, averting his gaze from yours, his hand covering his mouth. “Of course I like being with you. I just can’t be your fake boyfriend. I can’t do that anymore. I’ve already broken the contract. I… About you, I…”

Call it fate, or a coincidence. But at that moment, a passerby bumps into you, causing you to stumble. You yelp, your knees hitting the edge of the fountain, and Reo, alarmed, tries to grab you– you only manage to grasp his arm before you tumble over. Reo goes down with you. A wave of water splashes over the fountain as you flail, you and Reo fumbling for purchase. The two of you end up more soaked with every attempt to straighten yourselves, and it’s all just so ridiculous.

Laughter bubbles up out of you, and you can’t stop, even though everyone is staring at the two of you. You’re drenched, water streaming down your face, dripping from your clothes. Maybe this is what your hoodie feels like when you run it through the washing machine.

Reo lies beneath you in a pool of fountain water, your arms on either side of his torso. You’re sheltered in the circle of his open legs. His hair is plastered to his face, his expensive cotton shirt clinging to his body, and you carefully tuck a strand of hair behind his ear, but it’s all in vain.

“I can’t believe this,” you snicker. “Imagine the headlines. Mikage heir, found diving in a Tokyo fountain!”

“Oh, shut it,” he mutters, but you only laugh harder.

Suddenly, his hand cups your face, a tentative gesture. His thumb is so close to your lips. If he moves an inch, he’d brush them. Your laugh quiets. “What’s wrong, Reo?” you say, but your heart is pounding like a flock of birds lifting up in flight.

“You’re beautiful,” he says simply, as if it’s the only truth in the world. “Tell me if you don’t want this.” He’s face to face with you now, and you’re acutely aware of the way his gaze lingers on your lips. “Tell me if you don’t want me. Push me away right now.”

Oh, to hell with it. You lean forward and crash your lips onto his, urgently gripping his face with both your hands. It’s a terrible first kiss. There’s the taste of rusty water, and he’s slack at first, awkward, as you try to move against his lips. But then Reo circles his arms around your waist and pulls you closer, and now he’s kissing you back. He breaks apart only to connect again, desperate as if this is his one and only chance. Like stars colliding, all you can think of is this. Of him. Of the summer heat, lingering even when you part.

“Reo. I like you,” you say, simply. “I want to date you. For real, this time. No contracts, or anything. Even though I’m not your type, apparently.”

He rests his forehead against yours. “Forget about my type, or the contract. I don’t care anymore. I like you, too. I’ve liked you for a while now.”

“If you liked me, then why did you ignore me for a week?” you say indignantly.

“I was… I was nervous, okay? I mean, you shouldn’t have said our relationship was just a contract! I thought you didn’t like me!”

“Sorry, sorry. Both of us messed up, huh?” you ask. “Is there any way I can make it up to you?”

“Yeah, I can think of a few ways,” Reo mumbles.

He leans forward to kiss you again, and– “Hey! What are you kids doing in that fountain?! That’s public property!” A policeman yells.

Oh, shit. You totally forgot you were still in public, in the middle of a fountain. But there’s no time to think. Reo grabs your hand, and the two of you scramble up, splashing water everywhere as you jump out of the fountain and run down the streets. Everyone is staring at you, but who cares? Summer is almost over, and you deserve to have some fun with your boyfriend.

#liya writes #blue lock #mikage reo #reo mikage #blue lock x reader #mikage reo x reader #reo mikage x reader #blue lock reo #bllk #x reader #bllk x reader #3rd entry for my bllk seasonal shoujo fic!!#longest one ive ever posted. reo im going to kill u for making me write so much

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avatar-anna · 11 months

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Secret Little Rendezvous

Young dad!Harry x Young mom!Reader

"I don't think this is a good idea."

"Which part?"

"Well, any of it, to be honest."

"Everything will be fine, I promise. We'll be gone like two hours tops."

Y/n bit her nail nervously as she stood in her hotel room. Simone looked up at her with wide eyes and a goofy smile from her bouncer, blissfully unaware of her plans for the night. Turning away from the baby, Y/n looked at Harry. "I don't know."

"Y/n, Louis and Zayn are older brothers. They know how to babysit," he insisted, holding her hand in his pleadingly. "They know what they're doing. I wouldn't have suggested it if they didn't."

"She's barely five months old, H."

"An hour. Just an hour, that's all I'm asking for."

Harry understood Y/n's reluctance, of course he did. She spent ninety-nine percent of her time with Simone, and right now, she was pretty much her sole caretaker. Harry helped out where he could, but his schedule didn't make it very easy. Or his managers, for that matter. Sometimes it felt like his management purposely made it so that Harry couldn't spend time with Y/n or Simone.

Which led him to plan tonight.

Y/n still looked unsure, taking baby Simone out of the bouncer so she could hold her to her chest. But Harry could tell she wanted to have a night off for a little while too. "Just an hour, right?" she asked.

"Just an hour," he promised.

She nodded, then told Harry to call up the boys. He grinned wide, kissing the top of her head as he took Simone from her arms, kissing the baby's cheeks a few times before finding a comfortable position to hold her. "Go change into your bathing suit, okay?"

Y/n gave him an odd look, but didn't question him. She grabbed a couple things from her suitcase and slipped into the bathroom, knowing Zayn and Louis would be coming to her room any minute.

*.*

"We're sneaking into the pool?"

Harry looked back at Y/n with an amused grin. "What did you think you were wearing your swimsuit for?"

It was dark, but Harry could tell she was blushing. She was standing close to him and holding onto his arm as she waited for him to unlock the gate to the pool. "I just didn't realize we were sneaking in. I thought we were just going to the pool."

"We are. Don't think about the after hours part," Harry said, leaning down and kissing her on the forehead.

Taking her hand, he dragged her through the gate of the pool. He made quick work of ditching his shirt and running for the pool before jumping in. When his head broke the surface, Harry grinned at Y/n, who was staring at him from the edge.

"Come on. We won't get in trouble, I promise," he said, reading the look of uncertainty in the faint light coming from the pool crossing her face.

"You're making a lot of promises tonight," Y/n joked.

"Have I ever broken a promise?" he said.

Y/n's arms were crossed over her stomach as she pursed her lips. "No."

Harry wasn't an idiot. He knew there was more to Y/n's mood than just the fear of getting caught. He noted the oversized shirt that practically swallowed her, and he was aware of the fact that she'd been dressing on the conservative side recently. "It's just me, love," he said softly.

"I know. I know, I—Okay. I'm going."

Y/n turned around abruptly and began to remove her clothes. Harry couldn't help but blush when she was finally just in her bikini, his eyes landing on the curve of her hips. His heart began to beat rapidly in his chest, his cheeks flushing even more when she finally turned around. Harry thought Y/n was beautiful when they first met, and that hadn't changed in the last year. He thought she was radiant, and so pretty, and had the nicest smile, and the cutest laugh, and—

"What are you staring at?" she said. Y/n's arms hung casually at her sides, but Harry could tell she was fighting the urge to cross them over her body again.

"My beautiful baby mama," he said, a little stunned when the words came out before he could stop them.

Without responding, Y/n came back to the edge of the pool. Instead of jumping in like Harry had, she sat down on the edge and slid in, taking his offered hand and letting him pull her close. This close together, he was sure she'd be able to hear how loudly his heart was pounding, but all she did was smile and wrap her arms around his neck.

"Thank you for doing this. I know you could get in a lot of trouble for just being in my hotel room."

Smiling, Harry tipped Y/n's chin up with his knuckle. "Of course, Y/n."

Sometimes he felt bad for putting her in this situation. When they found out Y/n was pregnant, they were young, they hadn't been together very long, and they hadn't even gotten to the point of saying "I love you" yet. Both of them very well could've gone their separate ways and forgotten the other existed, certain people in both of their lives tried to convince them that that was the best option. Harry had seen the logic in it, he knew that not trying to stay together and raising a baby at their age would've been the sound choice. But he just...couldn't.

Y/n couldn't either, so despite the desires of those whispering in their ears, they decided to stay together. It wasn't easy raising a baby while Harry was on the road, and his management certainly didn't make things less complicated. He knew that it all took a toll on Y/n, and a lot of the time he felt responsible for the stress and late nights and tears she often experienced. This was new territory for both of them, but Harry only ever wanted to make her happy. He never wanted her to regret her decision to be with him, to love him. Whether he anticipated it or not, this was his family now, and he wouldn't trade it for anything.

"Did you have a good show tonight?" she asked, tucking a stray curl away from his face.

Harry could tell Y/n knew what he was thinking, she was eerily good at that he'd come to realize. "I did. I feel like every show gets better and better."

"I can't wait to see it."

"Me too."

They both knew she wasn't technically allowed to go to the performances, but they talked about it like she could anyway. It was easier that way.

It was quiet for a moment as the two of them waded in the pool. It wasn't an awkward silence, Harry was sure Y/n just enjoyed a moment of peace after constantly taking care of Simone. Y/n claimed she was a relatively easy baby to take care of. "Your mom taught me all the tips and tricks first, though," she told Harry once. She often downplayed her own skills as a mother, but Harry saw it. Y/n was a good mom, a good girlfriend, all of it. There was no doubt in his mind now about how he felt about her.

"Hey," he said, breaking the silence.

"Hm?"

"I love you."

In the faint glow of the pool lights, Harry saw Y/n blush. "I love you too."

"Why do you sound surprised?" he asked, his hands beginning to creep up her sides.

"I'm not, you just—Hey! Stop that!"

Y/n began to squirm and tried to get away from him, but Harry held her close and continued to tickle her sides. "What's so funny?" he kept asking her, eyes squinting when she began to splash at him as she tried to get away.

It turned into an all-out splashing war. Harry was laughing so hard his stomach hurt, and he could see tears of laughter lined in Y/n's eyes. She wasn't shy about trying to dunk him underwater, but eventually Harry cornered her against one of the pool's edges, his arms bracing on either side of her.

Y/n's chest was heaving as she continued to laugh, but she slowly quieted when she saw the look in his eyes. Harry's eyes roved her face, lingering on her lips when they finally landed there. She grinned and slipped her arms around his neck again.

"Are you gonna kiss me or what?"

Resting his hand on the back of her neck, he said, "You can never make things easy for me, can you?"

"I thought that's what you liked best about me?"

Harry leaned in, stopping a hair's breadth from Y/n's mouth. "One of the things I love about you."

*.*

Harry and Y/n jogged through the halls of the hotel, their giggles echoing off the walls until they finally reached her room. Y/n leaned against the wall next to the door to catch her breath, laughing from time to time while she calmed down. When she could finally breathe normally again, she smacked Harry on the shoulder.

"Ow! What the hell was that for?"

"I told you this was a bad idea!" she hissed, but even still, Y/n was grinning.

"We're fine," Harry insisted. "No one saw us. And besides, didn't you have fun?"

Y/n crossed her arms, feigning stubbornness. The truth was, she did have fun. She loved Simone, and she loved spending time with her, but it felt nice to get away, even for just a moment. It was a bummer that their fun had got cut short when a hotel security guard caught them making out in the pool, but she and Harry managed to evade him and make it back up to her room. The security guard had only seen the back of Harry's head, so they were in the clear, but Y/n was still buzzing with nerves and adrenaline.

"Didn't you?"

She sensed sincerity seep into Harry's tone, so she uncrossed her arms and leaned over to where he was standing in front of the door to kiss his cheek. "I did. Thank you for taking me on a date."

"Anytime."

Harry's grin was bright as he looked at her, and she felt the force of it all the way down to her toes. He was so pretty, Y/n often thought. He'd changed a little since she first met him, but he was still the same in all the ways that mattered. There were a couple new tattoos added to his skin, but she didn't mind at all.

Now it was Y/n's turn to surge forward, to take Harry by the collar of his shirt and kiss him as he leaned against the hotel room door. Y/n could tell he was startled, but he recovered quickly, one hand dipping past her waist while the other fisted in her hair.

She savored the taste of his tongue, the feel of his arms beneath her hands. When Y/n agreed to joining him on tour, she'd foolishly thought that they would spend time together whenever he wasn't performing, but that was far from reality. Harry was caught up in radio interviews and rehearsals, or meetings about one thing or another. Y/n never realized that there was so much more to being an artist than the music, but she learned fairly quickly that Harry was almost always busy. It made her appreciate the moments she and Harry shared, storing each secret date and stolen kiss and impromptu playtime with Simone in the back of her mind.

And her camera, which she almost always had in her hands if the three of them were all together at once. Y/n was pretty sure Harry's management would take it if they knew she was photographing moments shared between her, Simone, and Harry, but she was careful about where she kept it and only downloaded the photos and videos when she was at home. Because she needed those memories captured—Simone grabbing at Harry's face as he held her, her first attempts at laughter, Harry singing her to sleep, a failed attempt at feeding her in a high chair, Simone meeting the boys for the first time. They were all precious memories, ones Y/n would prefer to look back on physically rather than just in her head.

Y/n continued to kiss Harry until she felt like she couldn't breathe, and even then she just moved onto the side of his neck. His skin smelled like chlorine, warm and smooth beneath her lips as she kissed along his jaw. When his breath hitched, she smiled against him, dragging herself back up to kiss him properly again.

Perhaps it was a good thing that the door opened abruptly. Y/n could've stayed in that spot kissing Harry all night without a care in the world. When it did open, though, they sprung apart, startled by the sudden noise.

"Finally," Louis said, not even bothering to tease Y/n and Harry about the state he caught them in. "She won't stop crying."

Taking a moment to look him over, Y/n tried to stifle a giggle. Louis looked worse for wear, his hair disheveled, eyes frantic, with multiple stains on his shirt.

But before she could say anything, Y/n honed in on the screaming cries of her baby coming from her hotel room. Wrapped up in concern and slight guilt for being away too long, she pushed past Louis and hurried inside.

"What's wrong, melon?" Y/n cooed when she saw her. A harried looking Zayn was holding her in his arms, a slight bounce in his step in an attempt to calm the baby down. He immediately passed Simone to Y/n, eager to get the baby to stop crying.

At the familiar voice and touch, Simone began to calm down. "Mommy's here," she whispered, delicately wiping the tears off her still red face with her finger.

Simone had stopped crying, but she was still fussy, squirming around and nuzzling at her chest insistently. To Louis and Zayn, she said, "Did you use the bottles? I left them in the mini fridge."

"She didn't want them," Zayn said. "We tried to give one to her, but she wouldn't budge. Definitely has your lungs."

The last part was aimed at Harry, who had been talking to Louis by the door quietly. Harry blushed, but smiled too, happy to know that Simone had inherited something from him.

"That's okay, I'll do it," Y/n said. "Thank you so much for doing this for Harry and me. I'm sorry she was so grumpy."

Y/n was grateful that Louis and Zayn had volunteered to watch Simone, but she had a feeling it would be a while before they did so again.

"She was alright," Louis said, looking much less stressed out than he had beem moments ago. "It was just the last twenty minutes or so that she started crying."

"We'll get out of your hair," Zayn said before coming over to give Y/n a hug and a kiss on the cheek. Louis did the same, then said their goodbyes to Harry.

Y/n half expected him to go with his band mates, but he surprised her by staying back and grabbing a bottle from the mini fridge.

"Aren't you going to—"

"I'll feed her. Go ahead and shower," he said, not letting her finish.

"O—Okay. If you're sure."

Harry gave the bottle a good shake while he walked over to take Simone from Y/n. Kissing her head, he said, "I'm sure. She'll be asleep by the time you come out."

Knowing that the end of the night was an awkward subject to broach, Y/n followed Harry's lead and went to the bathroom to rinse off. True to his word, when she stepped out, hair in a towel and a fresh set of clothes on, Simone was asleep, but instead of dozing in her crib, Harry was still holding her.

"Nicely done," Y/n said as a way of breaking the silence.

Harry blinked, as if coming out of a trance. "Just needed a daddy's touch, I suppose."

They were silent again, content to just stare at the sleeping infant in Harry's arms. Then, "She's not sleeping through the night yet, is she."

Y/n shook her head and sat down on the bed. "No, but most babies don't at this age. I'm working on getting her on a sleep schedule, though, so that should help."

Harry didn't say anything, and Y/n wondered if he heard her. She knew the feeling of getting lost in staring at Simone. It was like her cute baby cheeks and button nose casted a spell if you looked too long.

"Sometimes," Y/n admitted. "I lay her down next to me instead of putting her in the crib."

"And that helps?" Harry asked, looking up at her for the first time since she came out of the bathroom.

Y/n shrugged. "I don't know, I don't really time how long she's asleep for, but it makes me feel better."

"I'm sorry that you have to go through it alone," he said softly, hints of guilt in his voice.

Trying to downplay the situation, Y/n lightened her tone and said, "Trust me, you're not missing out on mu—"

"I am though," he said before she could finish. "I'm her dad. I should be there to pick her up when she's crying and to change her when she wakes up. I should be there for all of it, and I—I'm not."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make fun of you," Y/n said, feeling bad for trying to tease when he felt this way.

"I'm not—I'm not mad at you," he said. "You're perfect, Simone's perfect. I just hate—"

"The situation, I know," Y/n said gently.

It sucked sometimes, there was no way around it. Harry couldn't go out for walks with Y/n and Simone, he couldn't go to the store to get baby food, he couldn't do much of anything as far as everyday interactions went. Y/n knew he tried to push his feelings aside for her, so as not to make her feel bad when she already had so much on her plate. But this was a burden she was more than happy to share with him because it meant he cared, it meant he loved their little family as much as she did.

"Hey," she said, nudging his leg with her foot to get him to look at her again. "I love you."

Harry's grin was small as it spread across his face but it was genuine. "I love you too."

Y/n took Simone from him to let him rinse off. Tonight felt like one of those nights where she wanted the baby in bed with her, so she rested Simone gently in the middle, fashioning pillows around her little body so she wouldn't move too much and hurt herself. Y/n's eyes dropped as she looked at her baby, her head falling deeper into the pillow. Her eyes finally fell shut when she heard Harry step out of the bathroom, and didn't realize he'd slid into bed behind her until his arms were wrapped around her waist.

Startling a little, Y/n looked back with tired eyes. "Aren't you going to go back?"

"I have to get up early anyways, might as well stay here and help."

In her half-asleep haze, she smiled at him and nestled her cheek against his chest. "I'll never say no to that."

Y/n fell asleep shortly after that, leaving Harry awake to watch over her and the baby. He could feel sleep pulling at his mind, but his eyes stayed open, determined to make this moment last as long as possible. He wished every night could be like this, that he wasn't in a band and that he and Y/n weren't forced to sleep on separate hotel floors as well as rooms. He wished he could spend every waking moment with his girls and have more than just stolen bits of time.

But for now, this was good enough. Y/n sleeping soundly and pressed up against him, Simone's eyes squeezed shut as she had the sweetest dreams, he hoped. He didn't know about tomorrow or the next day, but he had this moment, and right now, that was good enough for him.

#harry styles #young dad! harry #young mom! reader #young dadrry #harry styles blurb #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfic #harry styles oneshot #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x you #harry styles fluff #harry styles writing #harry styles one shot #harry styles fic

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inazumaclown · 7 months

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idk if i already said it here but i think level-5 is a monument for character design. their characters are memorable in any games or series they produce, even when they're a little too much, their designs have a peculiar, lovable charm, i really really like them.

anyway here's me rating the GO designs of the OG characters :

endou is the fucking favorite. you can tell the studio really did their best for him. even without watching GO, you can tell he's still his old passionate self but in a cool and matured way. you can tell he's coaching kids and you can tell the kids love him and he loves them in return. 10/10.

kidou is great. of course he would be wearing a suit to coach middle schoolers, this is what being kidou is about !

i do think the new goggles are a little goofy, but haruna gave them to him, so of course he would wear them without hesitation. you can tell he's still awfully serious, but also no longer ashamed to monologue about his (occasionally stupid) special interest of the week if asked.

i would have advocated for longer dreads rather than, idk sorta untangled dreads ? but you know what, this is great. 9/10

i'm in love with kazemaru. always has been. his hair is perfect.

i just don't get why he got the coraline's yellow raincoat drip. it tells me nothing about him. i can't guess if he is an athlete, a hairdresser, a mangaka, a drag queen, a military sergeant, a carpenter or a sugarbaby. i'm left alone with my headcannons, and no clue how to prove they make sense. 5/10

i love that fubuki shirou, canonically the prettiest boy in the world, decided by himself to dress like sheldon cooper.

i like that when he put his coat on, he looks like a hobo. he didn't even had to try the hot snowboarder style, he already knew he'll be a good-looking hobo. i like that for him. choose for yourself king, you don't need anything. 8/10

my man looks so good in this. he doesn't realize he looks like the lovechild of yakuza and a mafioso. he doesn't realize why the grandmas are scared of him at the supermarket, but it's okay. i know he's well paid, he's still hardworking and professional, he's stable in all aspects, and he smells like a very masculine, expensive perfume. 11/10

of course, fubuki and him are happy and in love, and nobody gets how it could have happened when they walk side by side.

ah, fudou. some would say his new style is a glowdown, but i almost disagree.

true, he doesn't look punk and alt anymore, but i can tell that now, he's a true leftist. he looks like he doesn't have a job. he always smells like *spicy* cigarettes. everybody in his neighborhood knows and likes him. he owns almost nothing, yet everybody owes him something. he's an anarchist but he still votes, because he wants to do his part for a more peaceful future. he does throw rocks at cops during social movements. 8/10

kidou and him are also happy and in love. they fight all the time for petty things, but it's their way to say 'i love you'.

kabeyama almost didn't change, and that's good. he looks nice and polite and like a wonderful freehugger. i trust him. i could give him my firstborn, i know the kid would be well-fed and in bed at a reasonable hour. 10/10

i don't remember why kogure was in GO. it had to do with haruna i think, which is good, i like haruna. whatever he's just taller. 4/10

sakuma looks nice. the longer hair looks good. he would look better if genda was with him though. 6/10

tobitaka. my boy. he found his place. giving him the rai rai ken was such a good idea. it's not about the looks for him. it's about happiness, and he looks happier now. 10/10

tsunami ! the last member of the B4. he didn't change that much, which saddens me a little, but maybe it was because his design was always good. 7/10

toramaru. same boy but taller. they made an effort with his hair, i'll give them that. he looks like a lost management firm intern. i hope he finds the printer next to the coffee machine. i also don't remember what he does in the series. 5/10

glasses suit hiroto. he looks serious enough to do a serious job well, and still weird enough to say some deranged stoner shit without anyone asking after one (1) sip of unalcoholic beer. good for him. 7/10

midorikawa lost a bit of his theater kid charm, but i guess this is what happens when you work in foster care. he looks like a great mom though. 6/10

i'm disappointed. aphrodi deserves better than a boring ass suit. i mean come on, that man doesn't NEED to look professional, he is literally named after the goddess of beauty, he deserved better than that.

the side ponytail looks good. so sad for the little bleaching accident. he should cut that. 4/10

i can't clown megane. i look like that man. i wish him well. 7/10

WELL THAT'S THE END, I HOPE I DIDN'T FORGOT ANYBODY :D

(gouenji will have his own post.)

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formosusiniquis · 1 year

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A Steddie / Buckingham comedy of errors of sorts. It goes like this.

Robin thinks Chrissy Cunningham might be her non platonic soulmate. She's smart, a little goofy, observant, seems like a great listener, and after what the rumor mill is saying was a pretty intense summer has really come into her own. It's a shame she went straight from dating Jason to Eddie Munson.

"She said she's working on herself," Steve claims, more in tune with the gossip than she is, "pretty hypocritical of you to say guys and girls can't be friends."

Which is pretty hypocritical of him when she knows he only cares cause he's already planning his wedding to Chrissy's new boyfriend; he needs Eddie to be single otherwise he's pining away for his perfect co-babysitter for nothing.

But it doesn't matter if they are dating or if they aren't or if Chrissy Cunningham with her perfect strawberry blonde ponytail is her soulmate, because her parents keep trying to set her up with some friend of a friend. She needs to do something quick before disaster strikes.

Melissa and Richard Buckley still know how to tie one on, when the occasion strikes. They're parents now, they've settled down some. Given in to the picket fence life, keep their yard mowed so Gayle Collins down the way stops glaring. They haven't done anything really crazy since that weekend they left Robin with Minerva and went to see what that whole Woodstock thing was about. Now they mostly just stick to getting as high as they can and stargazing on the weekends that Robin is off with Steve, a sweet boy kind of a square but the brownie recipe he gave them makes the best edibles.

Melissa can tell her daughter is lonely, she notices a lot of things about Robin that she won't tell them. Richard has noticed that their dealer Eddie has started bringing a friend along with him. Eddie is a sweet boy too, raised well respects his elders something they care about now that they've become them, he is also obviously and fantastically gay. Like all the parents in Hawkins, Richard and Melissa have heard how Wayne Munson has taken in that Cunningham girl after she came back from her trip out of state. Melissa remembers being a vaguely out of control youth and knows that a trip out of state is code for one of two things, and Chrissy doesn't look like she's ever been pregnant. Chrissy seems like a girl who might like their daughter.

Steve would die before he denies Robin just about anything. She is the platonic love of his life, they nearly died together, they've come out together. He's pretty sure as long as he has Robin and his kids he'd be content for the rest of his life, romance be damned.

A sentiment Robin seems to agree with since she wants him to fake being her boyfriend. Obviously, he says yes. Steve is a good boyfriend, he's always been a good boyfriend. He's attentive, great with parents, knows when to keep the pda to a minimum but also knows when to put on a show. He used to be pretty sure that Mr. and Mrs. Buckley liked him. So he's not really sure why they pulled him aside before movie night.

"Your parents hate me."

"There isn't a parent in Hawkins who hates you."

"You mom just asked me if I didn't think it might be better if I found someone more suited to me."

"What does that even mean?"

"It's basically mom code for I think your the worst person my daughter could have brought home. If I had the choice I'd kill you so why don't you do us both a favor and fuck off."

"I don't think that's right."

"Rob, I love you but conversational nuance isn't exactly your thing."

Eddie likes his job. Sure it's technically not honest work, but who knows maybe down the line they'll legalize it. He's getting in on the ground floor, an entrepreneur. Hawkins is surprisingly pro-weed and Eddie is just fine sticking to that after this summer. His favorite customers are the old folks. Like Miss Brenda at the library or the Buckleys. He always brings Chrissy along when he goes out these days, she feels weird staying in the trailer by herself and he likes having her nearby. She puts people at ease.

Except the Buckleys, who seem strangely obsessed with her. They ask her pointed questions about Dorothy, and surely they mean an actual Dorothy, surely the nice middle aged couple aren't trying to figure out if Chrissy is queer. Sure he got some vibes off of Buckley the younger, but that was before she started dating the love of his life. Now he's starting to think his whole gaydar has gone to shit.

Chrissy, a baby gay who has just broken free of the nastiest case of comp het Eddie has ever seen, answer honestly. She doesn't know a Dorothy, is that one of Robin's band friends? How is Robin, she is so sweet. Chrissy just wishes she had more time in the day so they could see each other more. She's dating Steve right, they make just the cutest couple, don't they think?

Eddie can tell Melissa doesn't. A surprise when even Wayne likes Steve Harrington, thinks he's the bees knees. Loaned him a screwdriver or some shit when the guy was over fixing something at the Mayfield place. She smiles though and agrees that Steve is quite sweet, in a tone that Eddie is far more used to hearing used when people are talking about him than about Steve Harrington. He blinks and the next thing he knows Chrissy is agreeing for them both that dinner on Friday sounds lovely; she'll bring a dessert.

Like she's ever baked in her life.

Chrissy Cunningham has had a rough couple of months, but she's settled now. Sure, she had a breakdown so bad in Eddie's trailer that she ended up having to get professional help; but she got that help and a new support system for herself. Really, the only way life could be much better is if she were dating Robin Buckley.

Eddie likes to tease her, calls her a baby gay like she's a wobbly legged deer still figuring things out. She's had eyes on Robin since the fifth grade, when she got her hair cut short to her shoulders the first time and her teeth still had a gap before her braces went on. Steve is a great guy, she's seen him with the group of freshmen that follow him around like ducklings; she's also watching him now and he's spent most of dinner making moon eyes at Eddie instead of his girlfriend.

She doesn't understand how, Robin is a vision. Full of spit and vinegar, she is firecracker mad glaring at her parents across the table. "You really brought him here? I'm dating Steve, can you not accept that?"

A lot happens at once, Chrissy isn't entirely sure what is going on but it feels a lot like a pot boiling over, something left too long unattended.

"We aren't trying to set you up with our dealer," Mr. Buckley said. "You're not exactly his type."

"Chrissy is such a nice girl." Mrs. Buckley tries.

"You said you stopped that," Steve to Eddie, a lethal pout on his lips and downturned eyes.

"Well, I stopped with the kids," Eddie tries, "I gotta pay the bills somehow, sweetheart."

"Chrissy?" If Robin was a vision in her sharp eyed rage, she's radiant in her pink cheeked surprise.

Once the shock, surprise, and comedy wear off Chrissy thinks there will be tears. Robin's parents seem nice. They seem like the kind of parents you confide in and who hold you tight. She thinks about her mom doing something thoughtful, thinks of her quietly accepting who she is and who she loves; and when she can't do that she thinks of Wayne and Eddie and knows she'd cry once they were alone and the theater of it all was over. So she thinks she might need to make the most of her moment while it's there. "I don't want to be a homewrecker," she jokes, something she's picked up from Eddie, "but I think your boyfriend has his eyes other places."

"Boyfriend, what boyfriend?"

"They're showing Clue at The Hawk this weekend, if you want to go with me?"

Robin can't nod her head fast enough.

"Stevie, I noticed you find yourself newly single," Eddie says, sorrow so fake he should rethink his decision to go within 10 feet of the drama department. "If you could bear it, would you want to crash their date make it a double?"

Steve agrees so fast a bit of hair escapes his coif, it falls in a curl at his forehead.

Robin's parents both seem pleased, pleasant smiles that chrissy is becoming more accustomed to seeing on adults now that she resides in the Munson place. "They'll be smug about this forever," Robin confides. Her smile betrays her lack of real dismay.

Chrissy got her girl and her best friend got his boy, so she thinks it's all's well that ends well.

#steddie #steddie fic #buckingham #buckingham st #robin buckley #chrissy cunningham #robin x chrissy #steve harrington #steve and robin #platonic stobin #platonic hellcheer #robin buckley's parents #am i using comedy of errors correctly? the world may never know #listen somebody deserves good adult authority figures in their life and this time it gets to be eddie and robin #inspired by rebel robin in which its revealed that robins parents are like hippies #i havent read it but ive seen that go around so i have adopted it #fear of coming out still exists even if your parents are chill #no one wants to learn the hardway that that was their line in the sand you know

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raenizza · 1 year

Text

“Do you Remember?”

Synopsis: Jey and Y/N decided to try something a little bit different for tonight. Reader will be receiving a sensual DOM treatment with memory meditation and subtle commands.

Characters/ Pairings: Jey Uso x Black Reader, Jey Uso x Y/N, Jey Uso x Black OC

Word Count: 2,779

Warnings: NSFW, pussy talk, squirting, dick riding, messy, brat, daddy dom, sub, praise kink,

Author’s Note: My first time writing a dom x sub pairing so this will be a bit interesting.

You and Jey have been together for quite some time and have had many sexual experiences with each other. To the point where you and him have a particular formula when it comes to sex. It was the same routine for the past 6 months, which you did not mind because it gets the job done every single time but you secretly craved for something more, something a little bit different before sex. You did some quick research on ways to spice things up and came across the “dom and sub” genre to which you had little to no knowledge about.

This particular type of relationship intrigued you a lot, hence it shared a lot of similar qualities that your man portrayed in the bedroom, so this should be a walk in the park for him. When you finally got the chance to mention the idea to him, he was shocked, but was ready to take on whatever it is in order to make his woman happy.

Jey did not mind switching it up quite a bit, hell he encouraged it and took upon himself to research some methods that would help the process smooth and comfortable. So the best way to do that is to start slow and steady. Get your “sub” comfortable and then slowly ease your way into it. The rest is history and that’s exactly what he did.

“C’mere baby sit right here.” He says to you as he pats on the edge of the bed. You were a bit nervous at the moment, but still ready for whatever. You sat down and looked directly into his eyes.

“Gimme your hands.” He said and you followed suit.

“That’s it lock them in, right there.” Interlocking his large hands with yours. “Good Girl.”

“Why you smiling like that?” He asked. “Nothin’ “ you replied still grinning from ear to ear. So far so good, you thought to yourself.

“Alright, don’t talk just listen.”

“Alright, shoulders back baby, and head straight up like this.” He instructed you. You did exactly what he said.

“You ok baby?” He reassured you after you took a deep exhale. You nodded your head in response and he continued.

“You trust me, right?” You nodded once again.

“Alright, gimme a kiss” You kissed him quickly and softly. He pulled away and remained his eye contact on you.

“I want you to close your eyes and breathe with me baby.”

“There you go. Match with me.” He said in between breaths.

“Now try to remember the first time I made you smile. Where you were. What you had on. The environment around you, every single detail.” It took you a while, but you pictured yourself in that very moment. It was his smile that actually made it happen. His big goofy grin.

“Keep breathing baby, keep it steady.” He broke your consciousness for a brief moment.

“When you remember the memory and have as much detail. I want you to lick your lips for me.” You pictured the memory from start to finish, detailed down to the shoes he wore that day. You licked your lips.

“Good girl, now remember the first time I made you feel beautiful.” He said with a warm and calm tone. “Not only that I made you feel beautiful, because you are but I see your beauty. Your natural beauty.” You can only help but think about that very moment. How he made you feel whole and loved. Jey has a way with words, and knows how to make you feel comforted and reassured. That moment to you, was more than a memory it made you feel special.

You licked your lips and blushed at the very tenderness of the memory you experienced with your significant other. “So fucking cute”

“Ok so now, remember the first time I made you feel safe. The moment you realized that this man will hold you down and protect me no matter what. When did you feel that? When did you realize that I got you, baby?” He said in low and deep voice as he stroked your thigh and massaged it deeply.

You thought about it long and hard at the many instances of your man keeping you safe and sound, since it never really it occurred to you.

You thought about all the moments when you felt scared and lonely. All the moments where you felt abandoned and hopeless, he was there. Jey has always been there for you from the very jump he knew what had frightened you, what made you uncomfortable and what made you uneasy. He was your man after all.

You proceeded to lick your lips as the memory ended with his tatted arms wrapped around yours.

“Good. Good.” He quietly abrupt not wanting to startle you in your thinking process.

“Lastly, think about the very first time. THE VERY FIRST TIME, that pussy got wet for me.” He stated emphasizing on the first time. You can hear it in his voice as he said it with a smirk.

You were taken back by this task and had to relive all the sexual encounters you shared with your man. You crossed your legs at the heated engagements the two of you shared in unexpected places and the amount of times he made cum countlessly. Your lower bottom half starts to warm up a just the sight of him thrusting into you.

You licked your lips and then smirked at the moment your man made your insides tingle, pussy moist and panties soaked. It was the very first moment when you were being your “bratty” self, and he slowly, from behind, leaned in, grillz in his mouth, reflecting from the mirror, whispered deeply into your ear “Look at me, when I tell you do somethin, I mean that shit you understand me?” As his hand grasped the back your throat pulling your head closer to hm. His breath fell to vape of your neck and cheek meshed against yours as he forced you to direct your attention to the mirror in front of you. The seriousness in Jey’s eyes showed he meant business and that he doesn’t play when it comes his pussy and his pussy only. “Look at me when I’m talking to you.”

You couldn’t help but picture yourself getting railed right in front of that mirror.

As the memory ended, you licked your lips and smiled.

“Keep your eyes closed baby, then kiss my lips.” He said. You poked your lips out towards him and he gracefully caught them. The two of you meshed together as he nibbled on your bottom lip and sucked it as juices began to flow in each other’s mouths. Both sparking up the tension between you two and releasing an energy only the both of you can match.

“Now when I tell you to open your eyes, you do so ok.” You nodded yes. “Good Girl” he responded back.

“I’m gonna countdown, ok?”

“5, 4, 3,2, *giggles*, 2 ½ ,” you sucked your teeth.

“Ok, I’m fucking with you. 1 Now tell me you love me.” He said immediately as your eyes peeled open. His golds peeked through his lips. “I love you so much baby.” You said in a low tone, barely even a whisper.

“I can’t hear you baby speak up.” He said not breaking any eye contact and remaining his focus on your lips.

“I love you, baby.” You responded with love and admiration for him. He was the only person you saw in the moment.

“You love me, baby? You remember when you fell in love with me.” He asked you as he began to pull your pants down, revealing your maroon colored panties. “Lay back for me, Lay back.” You did as told, opening up your legs in the process.

“Take these off for me. Put these panties in your mouth.” As he stuffed them inside. You muffled at the aggressiveness towards his actions. “Good girl, that’s my baby.”

He lowered down his face near the folds of your opening. “That’s my pussy right?” He said placing two fingers in. You moaned at his very touch. It felt so good. Him starting with a slow pace and giving soft and gentle rubs on your clit. “Mmmhhmm” as your response.

“That’s what I was thinking.” You started to tremble with every word he said. He suddenly took notice. “Why ya body jerkin liked dat baby? I haven’t did nun yet.” He said deeply as his voice traveled through the very outer rime of your pussy. You took the panties out your mouth.

“Baby I can feel the vibrations from your voice on me.” You said barely even a whisper. Jey smirked and moved even closer to where his top lip was practically touching yours.

“HMMMMMMMM.” He hummed.

“ So I guess I don’t need to use my tongue then right?” He continued to make small kisses on your folds teasing with every smooch. Jey continues to finger fuck you and suck your clit. Licking up every juice that escapes your body tasting all of you. Your response to this was grinding against his very finger, practically humping his hand. You couldn’t get enough of this feeling, the way his fingers would slightly curve upward hitting that very spot, his hands being placed on your thighs, holding you down at every movement. You loved this feeling and you couldn’t get enough. You wanted more. More of him. No wait. You needed him.

“Fuckkk, Daddy!!” I screamed out. Nearly reaching your climax as he continues to suck on your clit.

“Pussy taste so fuckin’ good. I love how wet you get for me baby.” He said as he inserted an additional finger. His middle one is the thickest and it fills you all the way up.

He picked up the pace and with his motions watching your squirm and moan. Jey peaked up from beneath you and stared at your body. You took a quick glance at him from the ceiling, his beard glistening in the moonlight, wet from your juices. His lips and nose were just shining. Just by looking at him you felt yourself cumming close.

“You cumming baby, hmm?.” You nodded yes in response. He gives you a quick smooch and then headed right back to his face being in between your legs.

“Cum baby you deserve it, cum. Give it to me. All on my lips.” His voice once again vibrating against your pussy.

“FUCCCKKKKK JEYYYYY!!” You came hard. Shaking, he immediately held you down grabbing your thighs together with one hand and the other fucking your pussy. Fuck, that felt amazing you could only thought.

“Shit baby” you said as you noticed that he is not stopping.

“Please, please baby let me-“ you couldn’t even form a sentence.

“You want me to stop? You need a minute?” He asked you.

“Yes, yes.” You said breathily. Jey stopped for a moment and watched you recollect yourself. Staring at the ceiling you could only think about what the hell could he possibly have planned next. As your pussy continues to throb at the very existence of your man being this close to you, you decided to sit up a bit.

Jey hopped off the bed and began undressing himself, getting butt ass naked in front of you. His hard 6-inch dick poked out immediately from his underwear and boy did it turn you at the thought of him getting hard just by fingering you. Jey grabbed some lube from the nightstand and rubbed it all over his dick. He looked back up at you as he jerked himself off for a bit.

“You ready?” He asked. You looked at him confused for a bit. But still willing to continue. You needed him BAD and this will ultimately fulfill every single craving you endured while he was away from you.

Jey got immediately on top of you. You stared down right at his member. 6 ½ inches of pure thickness, his base was a dark bistre brown as it faded towards his tip leaving it as a nice Tuscan color. His dick began to pour out of his precum like a gas station nuzzle.

He entered inside of you, starting off with slow and intimate strokes. His dick felt so good inside of you, but sadly you are still recovering from the intense moment from earlier. Trying to hold on and continue to push yourself, Jey started to pick up the pace a bit and you couldn’t help but place your hand right on his abdomen, trying to give him a little signal to slow down a bit.

“Aww baby what’s wrong?” He said in such a soft manner. You couldn’t utter a word because it felt so good and you weren’t sure if you could handle it.

“S-s-s-slow d-d-down, baby” You said trying so hard not to sound like you want him to but you couldn’t help it the pace at which he was, hitting your very spot. Just from your facial expressions alone, Jey can tell that his shit was feeling good and you were enjoying every minute of it, so he’s definitely not listening to you.

Jey leaned in closer to you, his gold chain touching your face. He got close to your ear and whispered “This my pussy, don’t tell me to stop.” He said as his fucked you even harder.

The only sounds that filled the room were your moans, his grunts with every stroke, and the headboard knocking.

“SHIT Y/N!!” He says as you grab his shoulder marking your territory. Jey then took his left hand and began to rub your clit, intensifying the feeling. You couldn’t help but place your hand on top of his.

“Uhn uhh, Move ya hand!” He says without breaking any eye contact. He knew you could handle it. “You a big girl, you better take this dick.” He says still fucking you deeply. He gave you a quick kiss and then pulled himself forward removing his hand away from your clit sucking off all of your juices. He looked at you passionately. “I love you so fucking much right now.” He said.

Then you felt it. You didn’t know what it was but for some reason looking at him being so intimate with you made you emotional. The way Jey gives you pleasure and guidance makes you feel loved and comforted. Thinking about this caused you to tear up a bit, you tried to fight it but the water works came crashing down. You loved the way your man was loving and fucking you.

Jey felt this and immediately pulled back. “What’s wrong baby, why you crying? It feels so good? You crying cause it feels so good?” He says to you. You couldn’t help but nod your head, ‘yes’, in agreement. Because honestly it felt more than good.

“You like the way I fuck you, huh? Don’t cry, its just goin make fuck you harder baby.” He responded by flexing his grillz, which made you reach closer to your climax.

“Stop crying baby, ok? I love you. I love you” As he wipes your tears away. Without even telling him, he already knew. Your eyes began to roll to the back of your head, feeling yourself cumming close. Jey felt the grip of your pussy tighten a bit against him, causing his strokes to become sloppy as he was near to his climax as well.

“Fuckkkk baby”

“Tell me you love me when you cum.” He says to you as he placed his hand right back onto your clit. You started to fuck him back in response. Then the

warmth started to creep down to your lower body, signaling that you are close.

“Oh that feels so good. Imma cum with you just keep doing that shit.” You continued until you couldn’t no more.

“I love youuuuu” You began to scream out as loud as you could. Jey felt every inch of you tense up to him causing him to cum with you as well.

“Fucckkkkkk Y/N!!!!” He yelled out. Cumming deep inside you. Sweat rolling down his chest and back.

Jey collapsed to the spot next to you, breathing heavily. Both of you stared at the ceiling fan for a moment. Jey slid his hand beneath you and pulled you close to him. You rested your head on his chest, you started to play with his gold chain.

He grabbed your chin and pulled your face close to him. He kissed you deeply and passionately. You looked up at him.

“I love you.” You said softly. He smiled. “I know, baby.”

#jey uso #jey uso x reader #jey uso x black reader #jey uso x black oc #jey uso x black y/n #jey uso x y/n #Ucey Jucey #wwe #wwe smackdown #wwe smackdown live #wwe raw #wwe raw imagines #wwe imagine #wwe oneshots #the bloodline oneshots

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alexizacatboy · 3 months

Text

I did a redesign for Sir Pentious! (Opinions below)

I really enjoy this silly goober, no natter how good or bad I think the show is, but my god...the og design...I feel really negative about it. Something just feels so frustrating when I look at it!

So here's some of my thoughts:

Considering his role in the show as more of a comic relief (though he's truly trying to redeem himself and takes it more seriously than, for example, Angel Dust), I wanted to give him a softer shape. Something to indicate that he's not really a threat to anyone, given how easily he's beat by Cherri Bomb (thats her name, right?)and, of course, Alastor.

I also gave him a bit different clothing, so instead of a suit he's wearing a vest. I think it looks better on him, as well as underlines the fact that he's an inventor (along with his visible goggles and a differently shaped hat). Bowtie became a simple tie and I gave him gloves! I don't find the "claws" thing about the designs cringe since animating fingers like that is probably more simple, but the fact that the patters of different characters are same recolored stuff definitely is!

Then, of course, I gave him a snake face with his fangs out. Because despite his goofiness, he's still supposed to be a demon (or, well, a sinner, more specifically).

What I REALLY dislike about the og design is the fact that he has a lot of eyes which are the same color!!!! I feel like it makes the design a little heavy and hard to look at, at least for me. So I left him with normal eyes, as well as giving him (somewhat of) an eye pattern on his hood. I also left the eye on the hat, but it's not really his, rather just a useful hypnotic device in the shape of an eye!

What I dislike about the og, is the color scheme and the similarity of the design with other "sexy handsome" characters (though, in this regard he is a little more unique)

I mean sure, he fits with the world in terms of colors. But that doesn't mean the colors arepicked great! I'm a big enjoyer of 1 character = 1 color thing. It makes you realise how different the cast is! However, when 1 color is associated with muktiple characters, it's pretty hard to see their differences and what makes them their own self. Sir Pentious looks like yellow Alastor, when he's supposed to be just himself!

If I haven't watched the show and only knew one character - Alastor (for understandable reasons), I'd think they're somehow related. Friends, enemies, boss - employee, equals as overlords - that kind of stuff. I'd never guess Sir Pentios acts differently. I'd just assume they have same character traits or same motives! I'd never be able to tell actually tell the difference!

That's not how you get people to watch your show! You're not supposed to offer them a cast of similarly looking characters and then say "oh, well, they're actually all very different! You just have to watch it to find out!"

No! You have to visually tell them "They're very different, but they're together for a reason. What reason? Why don't you watch my show? Wink wink"

That is how you do it!

Overall, I hope you guys can give me some thoughts! I'm not a professional, of course. And I'm not telling anyone that they have to abide by what I say. It's simply my opinion and hiw I feel about it. If you like Viv's designs, then that's great! Hope you have a great day!

#hazbin hotel redesign #hazbin critical #hazbin hotel #hazbin pentious

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socheckitout-mikey · 10 months

Note

Hi! I requested the Dal in a bsf relationship. I meant like where they are dating but also act like best friends (v comfortable and kinda goofy kind of relationship) it can include nsfw if you want

heeey, lost the original ask for this one, but thanks for sending this one in! i loved writing this, altho it turned out sappier than i usually write my hc's for dally. hopefully you like them tho! - mae

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Dallas Winston Dating His Best Friend Hc's:

° Being best friends with Dallas and dating him is probably your best bet. You both know each other really well, which brings about understanding and trust.

° That’s right, Dallas Winston trusts someone besides himself and that’s you. You’ve proved time and time again to him that you’re a loyal friend, and with that loyalty birthed the deep feelings he has for you. He may bury them underneath being a menace with annoying teasing sessions or a powerful temper, but they’re there. It takes a trained eye to see it, but you know how he feels about you when there’s that fire in his eyes as he calls you slightly mean little nicknames to rile you up as you’re in the midst of causing trouble; or in the times where you’re going at it, saying the worst things to each other. Those brown eyes say more than most would think and you’re a master at reading them.

° But you don’t admit that you know. You know it wouldn’t do any good, and it would make you feel uncomfortable as well. You understand the score with Dally: He’s not changing for anybody and that includes you too. Somehow you like his untameable wildness — it’s raw and true.

° Not much has changed in your relationship in the way you treat each other. You still engage in your prank wars and get up to no good — the list is entirely endless. The only thing that’s changed is the couple stuff like going on dates, extra PDA and so on. It doesn’t feel strange, but completely natural. Like you both fit together somehow. He’s like a drug that gives you a rush and you’re hooked! You think that even if he broke your heart that it would be worth it all, because at least you lived life on the edge.

° You’re wild like him and probably just as unapologetic. Maybe you have a better head on your shoulders than him so you’re picky with the types of trouble you get invested in, and honestly, Dally respects that — for the most part. He wants you to be courageous alongside him, but the thought of you sitting in a jail cell just doesn’t suit you one bit. So he’s oddly protective of you and keeps the heavy crime completely on the down low around you.

° You guys are always joking around, and sometimes it gets mean as hell. Even Two is left whistling in awe at how you both dig at each other, but then the two of you are grinning and the gang can’t help but shake their heads, declaring you both are insane.

° You guys sing and dance to your favourite Elvis and The Animals hits! You use your mum’s rolling pin as a microphone as you’re meant to be making pie crust whilst Dally is swigging down one of your dad’s beers he promised not to touch. You’d usually get mad at him for it, but he’s got flour in his hair and your heart is galloping as Dally gets silly, pulling you close to dance with him. It’s a soft moment, but you never bring it up again unless it’s just you two. He’s got a reputation to uphold and a fearsome hood dancing about with flour in his hair wouldn’t do his notorious image any justice.

° He likes to drive you places, but you hate his driving. You’re holding on for dear life as he zooms through traffic. You’re so uptight that it leads to you both bursting into a fit of laughter at the traffic lights because you sounded and looked so ridiculous! I think that’s what Dally likes the most about you, you’re always laughing at yourself and finding ways to make him laugh at himself too. You cut through some of that anger and sometimes it scares him a little.

° You guys play fight all of the time. Wrestling and putting each other into headlocks are your favourite pastimes! You’re always messing with each other in public, sneaking up on each other — the list is so long! It’s a lot of fun and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

° You’ll never forget the time you managed to spook Dallas out of his skin when he returned from the bathroom one night. You never let him live it down.

° “Jesus fuckin’ Christ!” Dallas screamed as you popped out from the closet. His fists were clenched, like he was about to swing out and knock you on your ass, but he was holding back. He was pale as a ghost, having stumbled back into the opposite wall. All you could do was laugh, tears streaming down your cheeks as he recovered, “You little shithead! I coulda hit you you know?! Fuckin’ givin’ me a heart attack! What you laughin’ for? It ain’t funny!”

° Boy was he grouchy with you after that. But he did get you back worse in true Dally fashion.

° Dallas likes to take you to parties and he’ll dance with you, but it takes some coaxing. He likes to dip and flip you, even likes to throw you up in the air! It’s exhilarating and he’s enjoying it just as much as you do because of that goofy grin you’ve got on your face.

° Fights are often passionate and fueled with a lot of hurt. One thing can set it off and I think it hurts more with how close you guys are. You both hate fighting but it happens to every couple. Dally may be in one of his moods and although you’re good at reading him you sometimes make mistakes and talk to him when he needs space. Other times it can be you that causes them. Either way they hurt and depending on how big they are will determine how long it lasts. But you guys surprisingly don’t fight very often because of how chill specifically you are.

° Dally hates it when he gets locked up because he hates disappointing you. There was one time where he got arrested right in front of you and the way you were crying as the cops cuffed him up was the worst. He sucks at comforting people and when you went to step forward, Dally looked cold as hell as he told you to get back. It hurt you, but you realised he was just trying to protect you. These cops were dirty and he didn’t want you getting arrested because they perceived your actions as trying to prevent his arrest.

° When you visit him in the cooler, he does love it. However on the other hand he also feels a little uncomfortable that you're seeing him there again. He's prepared for a speech and sometimes you do have one prepared, but mostly you're just relieved to see that he's okay. You tease him for that horrible buzz cut he has.

° He’s more tense and reserved, but he’s happy to see you. Dally is really aware of the other inmates around, but he likes seeing you. You make jail much better to endure.

° You guys get up to a lot considering Dally is very social, and you are too. You’ll go to parties, drive-ins, concerts, diners, beer blasts, rodeos, carnivals and a whole host of other things! Dally takes you to Bucks if you wanna go and there isn’t such a rowdy crowd in there. He enjoys spending time with you and getting up to no good. He likes to show off a lot to impress you, which can sometimes go wrong.

° Like that time after he’d rode bull in a rodeo and he went to hop over the top of the fence but his feet got caught in the metal which resulted in him practically face planting on the ground. He’d thought he was so cool, grinning at you impishly. It ruined the moment fast and he just had to laugh at himself as he dusted himself off.

° “Whatchu laughin’ at, eh?” he laughed as he trotted towards you.

° You barely got the word, “you,” out of your mouth. You were a mess with tears streaming down your cheeks.

° “This is how you greet your man, eh?” He grins down at you, hands on your hips.

° He didn’t help the matter but he did get a kiss out of it.

° If your playful flirting before was anything to showcase your fondness for each other, dating has made that so much worse. Sometimes Steve over hears it and starts yacking, but it's only because you guys amp it up due to the fact you know he's listening in.

° But Dally is a huge flirt! He loves to make you embarrassed – if he's capable of doing that any more. Flirting is one of his main love languages besides physical touch. He's sort of lame though because sometimes he pretends to do that whole thing where he doesn't know you, which is always a great laugh when you go along with it.

° He’s certainly protective of you and shows he cares about you in the subtle ways you’ve learnt to pick up. He doesn’t always tell you he loves you, but his actions show that he does. He shows it through walking or driving you places, standing up for you, giving you his jacket and telling you to keep it, taking you to bed when you fall asleep on him when you’re both watching a movie on the couch and so on.

° 100/10 y’all are genuinely so cute and funny together!

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

please like, reblog and follow for more!

requests: open!

#dallaswinston #dallas winston #dallas winston headcanons #dallas winston x reader #dallas winston imagines #the outsiders #the outsiders headcanons #the outsiders imagines #the outsiders x reader #the outsiders dallas winston #the outsiders dallas winston headcanons #the outsiders dallas winston imagines #the outsiders dallas winston x reader #i hope you enjoyed these!

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king-krisu · 2 months

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Hey Krisu, maybe you have already written about it but your post about the soft launch (love the phrase btw!) of green Häärijä has fascinated me. Because i still can't really wrap my head around what häärijä's role is. There are so many options. Is it to spread the attention out between the two? To keep a friend close by? To make transitions between eras easier on the fans? I'd love to hear your take on that.

Ohh thank you!! This is gonna be a longer post so I'm gonna put it under the cut haha

My take on this has changed a lot during the whole year. Like six months ago I used to fondly roll my eyes at those "Häärijä is a shadow of his former self" posts because I honestly didn't think Jere thought of it for much longer than 'hey I want my buddy on stage with me'. Now though, when I noticed for just how long Häärijä has been morphing his poses and mannerisms to that of Jere in the bolero, stoic and almost demonic, I realised he maybe does see it that way. I think in the beginning when he was given the bolero, when he himself would've liked to continue with the yellow theme, he must've given Häärijä the suit as a joke like "Here, you're only good enough for my hand-me-downs anyway". Which is a common way he jokes about Häärijä's precense anyway. To me it is and always has been just friends goofing off on stage and agreeing on a bit, like how the Daltons stay silent and menacing behind him at the DJ table but also do their own little jokes, or how Häärijä stumbles around like a lost puppy but also manages to sneak in his own little pranks from time to time. As far as I know the stage show of Käärijä did not look like this until after UMK or even after ESC, and I guess it's an easy way to have his friends and family up there with him without compromising their identities like his own, or taking up too much space from the main event which is Käärijä himself.

The slow transition to a green bolero Häärijä has been going on since August when he was given the yellow one by a fan (shoutout bolero mom!) at Kaivohuone. He's been coming out before Jere during Cha Cha Cha more and more, and both online and on onlyfans he's started to pose with that Kubrick stare, hands clasped thing Jere often did in the spring. Now they even paint the tattoo on his chest and during UMK24 they gave Jere's black spiky pants to him. To me it's a way to keep the old fans happy even if Jere himself moves on to other ventures and aesthetics, like his new baby blue and more experimental makeup look he had in both Toiset Samanlaiset and Ruoska. Or maybe it's to remind himself that he shouldn't forget where he came from and how much he's evolved as an artist, but also that he's not that person anymore. Cha Cha Cha era is now over, just like the yellow suit was handed down in early 2023 and it became a thing of the past and the new green bolero was a symbol of new and exciting things to come. Maybe some day Häärijä will adopt Jere's current look, whatever that may even be since we won't know until Böle/May, while Jere himself moves on to something new.

To summarise, I think for Jere initially it was just a goofy joke about Häärijä always being one step behind the main attraction, like a fan gone too far or something, while also just getting the perfect opportunity to make goofing off with his friends his career. And now, by giving Häärijä his old clothes, it's also a perfect way to keep that beloved green bolero a part of the show while still getting to move on and explore other visuals, because it is at the end of the day, the reason why 99% of the people in that crowd are there. Not as in all of us just go there for Cha Cha Cha, but almost all if not everyone in the crowds bought that ticket because they heard that song and fell in love with Jere wearing it. I don't think Jere himself even entirely knows what Häärijä's role is, except that this is his best friend and he saw an opportunity to have him with him while doing what he loves. And honestly, who wouldn't go through all that trouble to make an entire career out of hanging out with your best friend all day lmao

#käärijä #jere pöyhönen #häärijä #WHAT A LONG POST lmao #also by compromising identities i mean like they dont speak wear sunglasses and shave their heads lmao theres still people who cant tell #the difference between all three daltons #and for a long time no one knew anything about häärijä eithee bcs hes silent and honestly in his normal civil self looks like a different #person lmao

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yuken-gf · 1 year

Text

spending a day with sword leaders ♡

amamiya kyōdai here

cobra

are we even going to elaborate this, it's obvious

Harleys in Hawaii😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨

YOU AND I RIDING HARLEYS IN HAWAII I'M ON THE BACK I'M HOLDING TIGHT WANT YOU TO TAKE ME FOR A RIDE

he would half-planned it

he knew the big picture of where he wants to go with you

but if you request any destination, that's okay too! he would be more than happy to grant your wish

meals at some local diner (because we love the vibe)

would be something that start with the beach and ended on the hills to see the sunset‼️

he always make sure you hug him tight while riding his motorbike

((shit bro i'm going to die))

loves it if you vlog about the whole day

fixes‼️your‼️hair‼️after‼️every‼️ride‼️

you wouldn't even ask it

always helps you put on your helmet

randomly stares at you while you're at the beach and/or hills

and when you asked him what's wrong

he just said "nothing"

of course you want revenge

you stare at him until he asked "what's wrong"

you answered with something like "just admiring my boyfriend"

watch him FLEW

he would be so flustered, you caught him off guard😝

when you parted ways because you need to go home

he would kiss your forehead

"see you tomorrow, my love"

he loves it when you say "text me when you arrived"

he feels loved

rocky

this is so basic but

breakfast, lunch, dinner in 5 stars restaurant

shopping in between

he would be mad if you don't want to buy anything

"please spend my money or i will buy everything for you"

"no buts"

you buy little things that are pretty cheap

and he would be so done like

"fine, i'll choose for you"

walk out from every store with a big shopping bag

"rocky, it's enough"

he wouldn't listen because you didn't listen to him too

get that bag sis🤑🤑🤑🤑

"fine, ill pay you back later"

"go ahead and i'll spoil you more"

he would ask for your opinion when he wants to buy something for himself

"do you think this suits me?"

"which one do you like most for me?"

he knows that you always know the best

your small and shy thank you would make him sigh

"i'd give you the whole planet and it would be still not enough to appreciate your precious presence"

bye he has all 5 love languages

((remind me to make rocky fic))

the dinner would be extraordinary

3 course meal and in the vip seat

he would go for the best seat for city viewing sunset omsgsiahshsu ((blushing))

he holds your hand and thank you for the day and how he's so thankful that he has you by his side

he would also reminds you that he makes money FOR YOU

you would be "isn't that wife privilege"

"we're getting married anytime soon, what's your point"

goofy ahh argument about the money he spent on you again

murayama

café and resto hunting

i assume you ran out of place to date like

murayama gets bored easily

so you have an idea

and he's excited!

you two would look like some food critics because you bring your notes

would be so funny when the café give you some bonuses because they thought you're a food critics😭😭😭😭😭

he's judgyyyy

murayama ramsay

"write down broken aircon babe"

"also the fries are bland as hell, add that to the list"

"the coffee is a joke. i'm way better"

so unserious

you go to the arcade to wait for the next meal time

killing time by competing with your boyfriend

he's pouty but proud at you whenever he loses

so freaking cute

he would consider to take food critics as a job seriously because he feels like he's doing good at it

LITERALLY THE MOST UNSERIOUS BUT SERIOUS AT THE SAME TIME

smokey

all i can think about is dog/cat café date

((bury me in red casket plz))

he will melt when you play with the puppies

but he DIDN'T KNOW THAT YOU MELT TOO WHEN HE PLAYS WITH THE PUPPIES GAYT DAYUM

bro is smiley and cute

got you blushing over nothing😭😭😭

im not sorry, because me too😭😭😭😔

cute pics‼️

anti PDA does not exist for a day

he would be so touchy with you

reason: you're adorable and make him want to die so he feels like he need to be clingy

waiting for your snack and drink?

he grabs you by the waist and pull you to his chest so he can lean his head on your shoulders

you would be 😧🤨

"what's wrong, baby?"

he would just hums and snuggle into your neck

😧😧😧😧

shit bro im going to faint don't do that

enjoying the foods while watching puppies n kittens😻😻😻

he would feed you cause he can

so lovey dovey bye

hyuga

listen

sleeping all day

and then a night ride with one of his vintage cars

you can choose your favorite color

both of you don't know where to go, but you just spend the night driving

just enjoying each other's company

some accidently deep talks along the way

late night meals at some random restaurant

y'all joking around so cute

he's in his smiley mood <3

stops somewhere to watch the stars😮‍💨‼️

but you know

watching the stars in your eyes make him feels something

like he would burn the world for you

drive back home at around 4a.m.

if you fell asleep when you arrived at home. he'll carry you to the bedroom😮‍💨😢

kiss your whole face before he joined you to sleep

"i love you"

if you're fake sleeping and said "i love you too"

he would be so flustered

"why are you tricking me?"

he's a big spoon

and he loves give your nape a kiss before he really dozes off

only you know this side of daruma ikka's leader

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lovingmidnight · 1 year

Text

roommate

Jude Bellingham Fluff

a/n : dont rlly like this lmfao 💀little long but😭

I was always known to be a cold girl by others. got that intimidating look by the first glance, or so like everyone has told me. I didn't really mind these comment at first but it has really got to me for a while now. I've always been a nice girl who tried to give back whenever and however I could, but no one could see that about me. no one but my friend who was the classmate who sat next to me in school. Jude transferred to my school not long till graduation, so we spent a lot of time talking and taking classes together. he always sucked at english and geography which happened to be my strong suit, so I tutored him after classes in the school garden, but when it came to P.E, he bullied the shit out of the way I ran to the point ran slow as a turtle for a hot minute. he talked shit about my football skills, which I couldnt argue to - he indeed is a good player, at least compared to me.

even though he was a pain in the ass, he still was my only real friend in school. no one else tried to come up to me to say hi, nobody except jude, who out of 14 empty seats in the classroom, chose the empty seat next to mine in the back of the class. we soon drifted away from each others contact after graduation which left a lingering feeling in me, but not that I thought of that often. that was until the last 3 months, that he offered me to be his dorm mate, just around the season start. he explained how everyone in the england team shared bedrooms with eachother as jude was left with an empty room, and knowing his trashy style from the senior year, trashy furniture too.

the random phone call threw me off at first, but then when i heard him whining to have a roommate I finally agreed to stay for a little, just enough for the championship to be over. on today - it has come the day of the move in.

- "hello?" judes voice muffled as I picked the phone up

-"yeah what." I mumbled

"woah there, just wanna know if your all packed and ready to go."

-"i am, but you better get up here and help me with these heavy luggage."

"look out the window" he smirked

this dork has still remembered my address.

I turn around facing the window, the sight of him leaning in front of the car with a broad smile on his face, and an awkward wave.

-"oh shit-" I whisper under my breath as I could even close an eye, he dissapeared in pain sight only to hear a doorbell on my front door.

"come in." I say, opening the entrance as he unexpectedly grasps on to me, hugging my last breath away. it was awkward at first but it definitely felt good since I've hadn't had a long hug like that in a hot minute.

-"what was that for..." I joke waiting for his usual goofy response

"just missed you." he says calmly, coming and grabbing my luggage that was laying beside me

-"wait those are heavy-"

"I got it." he looked over his shoulder as he went down the stairs to his car.

taken back by the interaction, I tried to keep calm and went to the car, opening the passenger seat as a hand weighted on my shoulder, pulling the handle himself and leading me inside

-"wow, what a gentleman" I smirk, looking up at his tall figure as he chuckled lightly closing the door.

he kept quiet for some reason, which made me awkward but I just calmed my self down and took the jokes down a notch.

-"so... is it far..?" I ask, turning my head to him

-"no, not really." he looks back, making eye contact for a split second soon before focusing back on the road.

silence lingered for a little, looking out the window, didnt notice it at first.

"so...how have you been?" he asks, looking to the side to check on me since I was being quiet. "oh nothing much.. just been enjoying the break I have from college right now, it's been a lot you know."

"you know I didnt go to college y/n" he chuckles " but I get how tiring that would be for you. but you got it, you're a smart girl." he reached over to tap my head.

that moment, something inside me tensed, I don't know why or how but I pushed it away right away.

about 15 minutes later, almost fast asleep, jude pulled to the driveway, unbuckeling his seatbelt, soon realizing me laying still "y/n?" he uttered, shaking my shoulder lightly. as a deep sleeper I ignored it, but minutes later I woke up to judes face near mine, waving his hand over my eyes. his smiling face as he saw me wake up made me feel comforted as his soft voice didnt feel so bad even when I fully despise waking up. "do you want me to carry you or something?" he smiled "no I'm awake." I mumble rubbing my eyes.

jude took a look and started laughing hysterically

"what??, is there something on my face??" I whined

"did you forget you were wearing makeup? your eyes are fully blacked out" he wheezed

"WHAT" I immediately wake up and sit up straight, pulling down the car mirror, to see my eyes completely normal.

"jude. fucking. bellingham. I'm going to kill you." I growl as he laughed uncontrollably

"I knew it would be the only thing to get you up!"

to be honest it my fault, why did I trust him?! I didnt even wear make up today.

fast forward to evening, jude has helped me set up my stuff in our bedroom. everything has started to tidy up, ...except for judes clothes laying everywhere. but I tried to ignore that since I knew I was just a raging perfectionist. I got ready for bed, I quickly finished my skincare routine and walked out the connected bathroom in the room to the sight of jude laying down on the bed watching YouTube videos

"so when are you going to bring out a mattress" I ask casually

-"a mattress?" he asked

"yeah...? do you think I'm gonna sleep on the floor?"

"you're gonna sleep with me.." jude said casually

"PFFFTT" I cackled "great joke judie" I laughed nervously only to look to his serious confused face

"look, my teammates thought I wasnt gonna have a roommate so they gave me the room with one bed."

"well fuck." I mumble, closing my eyes in regret to why I agreed to do this.

"if it bothers you that much, I'll sleep on the floor." he sighs, looking back down at his phone

he always had that puppy voice that made you feel bad everytime you didn't agree so I had no other choice.

"alright fuck it. I'm not gonna sleep on the floor so might as well." I sighed, walking up to the bed with judes smug smiling face.

"schooch over boy." i laid inside the warm sheets which felt heavenly, soon after jude joined in too as it got pretty awkward fast. I tried to flip over, but he did aswell causing him to hug me from behind

"ew dont do that." I whisper in the dark

"its tight here I cant help it" he shout whispered back

"well should've thought of this earlier" I growled back through my breath.

soon enough, I find myself wide awake next to jude who was fast asleep. his legs tangled up with mine as his head rested on my shoulder, and if I was 100% honest, it made me feel safe. it made me feel comforted and warm. I tried to push away these feelings but I soon got the hint. it was close to 3 am when I sat up straight and realized,

"oh my god, I'm in love with jude."

..It all was real. I couldnt pretend anymore like I didn't flinch at every touch of him, that everytime he spoke it didn't send spirals down my stomach. It meant something.

I looked over to my shoulder to the sight of judes face, fully knocked out. I guess hes been practicing hard lately, it is world cup season after all. it made me smile but it also made me guilty. what if he doesnt feel the same? what if he sees me only platonically? it all terrified me.

I tried to shut myself out and laid down, jude immediately grasping onto me and nuzzling into my arms. I guess he was a deep sleeper but he really liked cuddling. the feeling of guilt stuck to me till the next morning where I spent the day being quiet.

waking up to jude already outside training, I went out to the kitchen to grab a bite, greeted with a plate of breakfast, including eggs with bacon and bagels - my favorite. I smiled beginning to sit down and eat. not long after I finished, getting up the chair to go out to the balcony, where jude practiced shooting in the field. I awkwardly waved to him. as he noticed me his face lit up, waving back like a happy dog. he signed me to come down to pitch, at first I declined since it was cold, I was only wearing a big t-shirt, with small shorts underneath, which looked barely noticable. I hesitated at first but soon accepted cause, fuck it, I got nothing to do anyway. and I modt certainly dont want to be there when his teammates come out.

I ran downstairs to the back door, which lead to a private field where jude was practicing.

"hey, you should've brought a jacket, it's cold here."

"I'm fine." I respond rather coldly

he looked at me with a face that made me feel guilty even more. "so,where are your teammates?" I make small talk "they're yet to arrive here." he responded, hitting the ball powerfully, which made me flinch a little.

"so... how do you guys hang out when you're here?" jude sat down the field, wiling his forehead with his arm

"we usually go to clubs, I mean they force me to go to clubs. you'd be surprised how many girls recognize us there." he smiles

"oh so you're getting some girls?" I stand in front of him

"I mean I just dont accept them." he says, looking up at me

"why not? arent you looking for a girlfriend?" I say, hoping for an answer that wouldn't keep me up at night

"I am, just I'm looking for a right one for me." he said, continuing his glance over me.

"you got a lot of options then from your club girls" I laugh but more like scoff

"well.." he hesitates, knowing he does.

"well I'm gonna go know." I say, making myself almost blow cover.

"why?"

"oh i dont know, just got cold maybe, i mean, I am wearing almost only a tshirt." I mumble trying to find an excuse.

"that's mine by the way." he smiles looking at his graphic tee was wearing.

"oh." I look down, recognizing the t-shirt that jude wore in high school, where he spent the whole night in my room while i was tutoring him for an upcoming english exam. that's why I didnt remember buying this...

"here-" I tugged on the bottom of the shirt almost pulling it up only to realize i wasnt wearing anything underneath. jude stood there awkwardly as I almost stripped infront of him,

"uhm. I'll go change then and give it to you later." I say awkwardly turning around

"no keep it. it looks better on you anyway." he yelled as I got closer to the door.

the rest of the day I kept quiet as well, until it came to dinner time, where his whole team was going to be there as well. I took a shower and dressed up nicely to find jude sitting outside the room with a white button up and black pants. that sighting almost sent me to a mental hospital but I kept casual, keeping on my cover.

"ready?" he says before turning around as he paused, analyzing my dress quietly

"yes." I answer trying to ignore him literally checking my outfit out.

"you look great." he mumbled shyly.

"thanks." I say coldly, trying not to scream my lungs out.

we sat in the car, soon arriving at the restaurant. his teammates already sitting down waiting for him as we walked in, whispering and giggling being heard.

"hey guys." jude sat down casually. "this is y/n, I finally got her to be my roommate." he smiled glancing over me.

"hey guys. it's a pleasure to be here." I say shyly

"welcome, it's a pleasure to have you here." foden put his hand out for a shake. jude glared over him as he shook my hand, I suspected him being mad but I pushed it away, thinking it was just my delusions.

we spent the rest of the evening chatting and laughing with the team which was a lot of fun. we got up, ready to leave.

"that was fun." he said

"yeah." I say dryly, trying to keep character once again.

"y/n, what's wrong?" he says, making me caught off guard.

"what do you mean?" I answer

"why are you being different, sort of cold with me?" he asks as I feel my throat tightening

"I'm not trying to do that.." i say holding back my tears from forming.

"did I do something? I'm sorry if I did anything that makes you unco-"

"you didn't do anything jude! I'm the problem for growing a fucking crush on you now I can't escape you. I know you don't feel the same way and you don't have to explain anything to me cause I know you have someone on your mind but-"

"what...?" he cuts me off "you think I like someone? who isnt you??

- y/n I've been trying to make it obvious by day one that i liked you. I chose the seat next to you in high school where I would spend years in. I always had a teacher in english before you offered me to be my tutor, I dropped her the next day. I always wrote little hearts next to your name in my contacts. and do you think that I couldn't live alone in my dorm? i just wanted you to be with me too and took the first excuse i could get. y/n I've been in love with you since the start of everything. it didn't go a day when you wouldn't cross my mind." he says.

that's when a stone fell off my chest. tears glazed over my eyes as I started whimpering in front of him. jude came near me and wrapped his arms around me.

"I love you, y/n. I've always had." he whispers holding me tightly.

"I love you more." I cry, holding him tighter

safe to say, I was no more awkward to sleep warmly in his arms.

#jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham imagines #jude bellingham imagine #jude bellingham #football fanfic #fanfic #fluff #football #fiction #footballer x reader #footballer imagine #headcanons #oneshots #football imagine #imagines

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