#it is 4 am n it 50 WHAT THE FUCK

[v4lentin333]

I hate the heat give me the snow back right fucking now

[re-velogs]

so fucking busy the rest of the year. being alive is awesome :]

[jrueships]

guess whos not going in at all this week, actually

[29121996]

.

[twizzie-lairs]

My Darling, My Honey

Alastor X Fem!Reader (Part 13)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 |

Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13

Part 13:

After practically being dragged by Vaggie back into the main lobby of the hotel with Alastor quietly humming behind the two of you, you were basically swarmed by Charlie, Angel, Husk and Nifty.

"WHERE WERE YOU? I was so scared!" Charlie barely manages to get out past the blubbering tears streaming down her face as she hugs you.

Angel examined your body with all of his arms, checking to make sure you were okay, "Geeze, toots, how'd you manage to survive that long against Smiles over there? I was sure you'd be dead meat!"

Husk gave you a glance up and down, "Glad you're alright. I'd hate to miss out on getting to know another drinking buddy." Husk glances over to Angel and grumbles under his breath, "You owe me $50."

"You were betting on if (y/n) was alive???" Vaggie groans, hands rubbing her face in exasperation.

Nifty is basically hyperventilating in your face, sniffing and examining your hair strand by strand, "Yup- still gross- EW!" Before she launches off your shoulders to go and do god knows what somewhere in some far corner of the hotel...

You let out a breathy chuckle, "I appreciate the concern... and the vote of confidence... Angel..." You give a sarcastic glare over in the spider's direction, earning a sheepish smile from Angel.

Taking Charlie's hands in your's, you take one of your hands to dry the tears from her eyes and say, "Charlie, you don't need to cry. You're such a sweet girl. I honestly can't thank you- and Vaggie-" you smile in Vaggie's direction before continuing, "- for saving my life and bringing me here to the Hazbin Hotel. I came here to find the love of my life- back from when I was alive. It's only been a few hours, yet you've already helped me fulfill the goal I've been trying to achieve for decades!"

Your words brought surprised looks upon Charlie, Angel, and Husk's faces.

Husk nearly dropped the glasses he was cleaning, "Uh.. Say what now?"

"Excuse me, but did you just say you found the love of your life... from when you were alive?? Who the hell-" Angel started to say before Alastor walked over put his hand on your shoulder,.

"Oh, you gotta be fuckin' kidding me." Husk interrupted Angel's sentence with the most deadpan yet exasperated voice he could muster.

"Wait... you mean... Freaky face has a fuckin' WIFE???" Angel yelled out in disbelief. "What the actual FUCK? I didn't think that guy was capable of love!"

"Ahem." Static noises became louder as Alastor glared in Angel's direction.

"Alright, alright, jesus, sorry! Husk, I need a drink."

"Already on it."

Meanwhile, Charlie just stood there as still as a statue from the shock. Until she suddenly started chuckling slowly, "Ah ha... hahaha... wait... really?" She brought her hands up to her mouth, trying to hide the huge grin that was slowly forming on her face.

You nodded, "Well, not quite wife haha... I was killed before he could propose..."

"Geeze, talk about grim.."

"Why, I do say that is quite enough from the peanut gallery!" Alastor piped up, menacingly twisting his head towards the bar where Angel and Husk were.

Charlie turned to Alastor, "How come you never mentioned you had someone special before?"

"Well my dear Charlie, I am a very private person, I do not often willingly divulge personal information about myself or my life back when I was alive."

"Oh." Charlie looked down at the ground dejectedly, thinking she was closer to Alastor than to be kept at such length still.

You patted Charlie's head, "Don't worry- I'll be happy to chat with you anytime! Though I don't know if you'll have fun hearing how I killed my husband- er- before Alastor. Maybe I'll have to settle for stories about my art career!" You chuckle smiling at her.

"Jesus, she IS crazy after all."

"Takes crazy to know crazy"

"Oh, shut up."

Charlie gasps, suddenly perking up, "Oh.. MY... GOSH!! Does this mean we get to host the very first wedding at our hotel??" She squeals and gives both you and Alastor the puppy-eye look.

You link your arm through Alastor's and look up at him with an inquisitive look.

"Ahaha! Why, if it is what my dear (y/n) desires, then that is what we shall do!"

You grin and bring your left hand up and hold it out to Charlie, "We already have the rings!"

Charlie blinks blankly and her mouth hangs open holding your hand to examine the ring on your hand. Vaggie leans over to look as well, "I honestly don't know I missed that..."

After staring at the ring for a while, Charlie smacks Vaggie's arm a bunch before squeezing her in a big embrace- the sounds of her squealing excitedly filled the room.

"WE HAVE A WEDDING TO PLAN!!!!!"

-> Part 14 - Final

Tag List:

@mysticwitchcraftco @lil-bexie @lonely-burger @cherry-cola-100 @angelxx7 @mariaclarade-la-cruz1 @avitute @justhellacesome @mcrtrashfan @spookysisters @galaxywing-has-adhd @ggyalruu @trashbin-nie @fudosl @night-shadowblood-writes2 @memospacexx @yuraaahs @completelyshatteredbrokenmschf @ghostdoodlen @moschinski @cannibalcoyote @missam @reader3 @yourworstgf @justaproudslytherpuff @milkspong3 @xdolls-crownx @1potato2rulethemall @1rxsemary1 @xxcrispxx @zardward @robin-the-enby @mylenapony11 @silvermoondarksky @bootylimpics @amarokofficial @euphoricaphrodite @blueyobsessedgirly @need-a-therapist @knifukiller @huayan @hwrimonsjer @no1sillybilly @kimmikreates @icarus-has-falllen @watchinthestarz @lady-lik3r @yunxi-11085 @luzzbuzz @tsukilover11 @plntmxrss @houmi @demoarah @papas-ghoulette @trashbin-nie @d-darlingyourbleeding @hallothankmas

[kira-fluff]

I saw the “Sleeping with no pants on” headcanon and was wondering if you could do a pretty setter squad containing Atsumu, Kageyama and Akaashi please- ☁️

sleeping with no pants on | fem!reader x haikyuu!! [pt. 5]

a/n: i was not expecting everyone to be so obsessed with this prompt but I am LIVING for it. I love you guys so much 🩷 p.s. my lovely, atsumu is actually in pt. 1, but I'm going to switch for twinnie osamu, okay? 💕 also I'm so sorry i was gone for so long. busy busy busy working 3 jobs with college. forgive me if I'm a bit rusty. tw: sorta spicy idk

pt 1 pt 2 pt 3 pt 4

osamu miya "hey, 'samu, 'samu." "hm." he replied in a grunt. "'m tired." the two of you had stayed up the entire night trying out new recipes that osamu had thought of when he was supposed to be paying attention in class. so, now here you were at midnight, sprawled out on the couch, exhausted. "'n go 't sleep." "don' wanna drive home." "'n stay." you murmured an acknowledgement, then began slipping off your pants. osamu immediately sobered from his tiredness. "wait, the hell are ya doin'?!" "'m goin' to bed, obviously." "ya can't just take yer pants off with a man in the house!" you let out a little scoff, "oh, get over it." but osamu's mind was already racing. he tried to act cool on the outside, but you were just in your fucking panties and acting like it was no big deal? why were you always so clueless around him??? did you really not see him as romantic material??? osamu couldn't help but stare at the round shape of your ass even as your long shirt covered you. he had scarcely time to begin devouring the sight of your legs when you cleared your throat. "are you.....staring... at me?" he cleared his throat and looked away. "...s-sorry.." you leaned in close, just below his ear. "ya know... if you really wanted it that badly, you could've said something.." you smirked, taking a blanket and covering up your lower half with a conceited smirk, walking away. "h-hey wait! the fuck did ya mean by that?!" he trailed behind eagerly. the rest of the night? well... "just friends" was no longer in either of your vocabulary anymore.

kageyama tobio you friends, after all, nothing more. and you didn't want to make it weird. weirder than it already felt having hidden feelings for your best friend. it getting late after a particularly long study session which involved you trying to drill basic math facts into a brain that only understood volleyball. it was a hopeless endeavor, but you took him getting anything above a "50" as a win. so, you continued to attempt to help him improve his grades. you supposed "attempt" wasn't necessarily the right word, as his scores were generally improving, but sometimes you found yourself wondering if there was really a point to it all after you spent the whole lesson trying to help him relearn everything he misunderstood in the lesson from that day. so here you were, exhausted, with your head down on your table at home, tobio sitting across from you. "hey, kageyama, let's just call it a night." he paused for a moment, then spoke. "....do you want to sleep with me?" if you had any liquid in your mouth, you're certain you would've had a comical spit take. "ah, um, WHAT?" you sputtered, trying to make sense out of what he said. he didn't mean it that way, did he? no, of course not. "it's... late." yep. just offering a place to stay. "it is. but there are still trains. i can take a late one." "just get in my bed." your eyebrows raised. "hey, tobio, a normal person would misunderstand what you just said..." he ignored you. "just sleep with me." your face took on a reddish hue the more times he said it... and he just didn't get it? why was he messing with your heart like this!?!? "um... there are different ways to say that. like... 'want to spend the night?'" "then, spend the night." "why are you being so pushy?" "because i like you." as a friend. yeah. we've been over this. "ok, ok, you've convinced me with the power of friendship. but I'm sleeping on the couch." "no." "yes." "no. my bed has enough room." "not for me!!" you laughed nervously. does this guy even have hormones? like, what the fuck? "....I'm going to go shower. I'll see you in my bedroom." does this guy not understand the meaning of no? still, you found yourself begrudgingly trudging over to his bed, especially after you saw his couch was made with the comfort of a burlap sack. I mean, if he offered, might as well take advantage right? what could go wrong? spoiler: everything goes wrong. you thought he was fast asleep. so, in the stealth of 1000 ninjas, you slid off your sweatpants for the sake of comfort. it wasn't weird, right? oh well. you were tired and damn did he like his room hot. you jumped when you felt him arms wrap around you. then, he stiffened. "...are you not wearing any pants?" "um... maybe..." he sighed. "are you trying to seduce me?" "n-no it's just more comfortable!" he turned you around so you were facing him. "well, whatever you're trying to do, it's working. I don't think I'm going to be able to sleep." "wait, is it because I'm making you uncomfortable?" he went silent for a moment. ".... you could say that." "I'll... just put them back on then. sorry. it's just that your room is really hot and-" "can I kiss you?" you blinked in disbelief. "can you what?" "kiss you" he answered without a beat. you spluttered some more as he slowly leaned it, asking for permission, silently this time. you nodded and closed your eyes. sparks flew as his lips moved against your own and you finally understood what he'd meant when he said "I like you". kageyama tobio was head over heels in love with you, and you hadn't a clue. until now. the two of you broke apart. "...can we... do that again?" he asked brazenly. you leaned forward again in reply.

akaashi keiji akaashi would rather die than confess to you the things he woke up at night fantasizing about. you'd likely be especially mortified if you discovered that one of your most embarrassing mishaps was on a frequent replay in akaashi's brain when he fell asleep. he was supposed to be a gentleman, not some gross pervert that looked at one of his best friends like... that. but since it was all in his dreams, it was impossible to "turn off" no matter how many times he tried to think about something else before he went to sleep. and so, let's recall The Incident shall we? he had come to your house late at night and knocked at the door, fully expecting to see you up and awake as it was the early evening. to his surprise, however, you answered the door groggily, eyes still bleary from exhaustion and sleep. the way you looked would be forever ingrained in his mind. you were blinking back the remnants of sleep, wearing one of his shirts. it hung low on you, but not low enough to cover your supple legs and the white panties that peeked out below the hem line of his shirt. you hadn't noticed yet, either. "... what d' ya need...?" you asked tiredly, rubbing your eye. akaashi swallowed harshly, his brain turned into complete mush. "uhh.. uhh...." goddamnit, MOVE YOUR EYES BACK UP TO HER FACE. were her legs always that long? STOP. when he still hadn't answered, you followed his gaze down to your lower half. he still remembers the succession of events as follows: you blushed, stammered, and then slammed the door in his face. you didn't talk to him for a week. after, you finally awkwardly explained that you sleep without your pants on and that you didn't realize you hadn't put anything on when you answered the door because you were so tired. it sucked that you ignored him. and even that you explained yourself. because all it did was bring those... memories... right back to the forefront of his mind. whenever he saw you in the hall and you'd flush and look away, he was immediately brought back to the sight of your bare legs. when you stumbled through your explanation, his mind reeled back to those white panties. and he hated it. what kind of friend looks at their friend that way? but he knew in his heart that what he was feeling for you was beyond sexual attraction when, in his dreams, you smiled at him. and told him you loved him. and so, what if he dreamt a little longer? hopefully you'd forgive him. and maybe someday he could tell you how you made him feel...

[animeomegas]

The Quest for a Second Life - Part 5 - 50 Shades of Audacity (1)

KAKASHI X ALPHA!READER

Summary: If suddenly waking up in an uncanny office had been bad, this time was worse, because you had a job interview, and the guy before you had just stormed out in tears. Why did you pick this world again? And why is your boss an asshole? And sexy? And with a nice voice? Fuck, this wasn't going to be good. GN!Dom!Alpha!Reader x Multiple

Word Count: 10.8k

Warnings: Alcohol consumption, sex while both parties are a little tipsy, workplace violations, questions about someone not eating lunch due to being a workaholic, and overuse of the world asshole as an adjective. All alphas have dicks, fyi.

A/N: Happy Holidays everyone! And a special happy holidays to those who guessed that our next omega was going to be Kakashi!!! December is well underway and I'm working hard to get all these chapters finished in time for the epilogue to be released on Christmas! The dynamic is different with this one, but I hope everyone enjoys nonetheless <333 I hope you enjoy the choice for the second character, @omeganronpa I'm honoured to call you my friend <333

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Epilogue

In the span of one blink, you went from standing in the library with James, to sitting on an uncomfortable chair in some kind of office waiting room. No matter how many times you jumped between realities, you swore you would never get used to the complete sensory change that happened in milliseconds. You had changed positions, clothes, company and scenery just like that.

Trying to gain your bearings, you tried to take in your new surroundings. Your first thought was that you had some serious déjà vu, as James’ uncanny valley of an office sprung to mind. Seriously, how many times were you going to suddenly gain consciousness in a soulless office?

At least this one was a lot less creepy, you admitted. It had doors and windows for starters, but the cavernous size of the room also helped diminish the claustrophobic feeling. Rather than beige, the room was decorated in a tasteful, modern, monochrome, boring but inoffensive, and better than too much beige in your opinion.

The copious amounts of soulless corporate art on every surface were the final touches that convinced you this was a real office and not set dressing for purgatory.

The waiting room was full of people though. You hadn’t seen this many people in one place since Itachi took you into town, and the general air of anxiety coming off them all was putting you on edge.

You fidgeted, uncomfortable at suddenly wearing formal business wear. The blue folder that was sitting on your lap shifted slightly, but you paid it no mind as you straightened everything out and readjusted yourself into a more comfortable position. To your left, what you could only describe as the combination of a modern water feature and grandfather clock chimed, signalling it as 09:00 AM.

‘James? Can you hear me?’

‘I can, human alpha.’

‘Great. Can you give me a run down of this pocket dimension please? It’s been like, two weeks since I read the blurb.’

‘Of course. ’50 Shades of Audacity’ follows MC, an alpha graduate student who lands the role of personal assistant to one of the most famous CEOs of the time, omega, Kakashi Hatake. MC discovers that Kakashi is hiding a submissive streak, and together, they explore their relationship while preparing for the yearly Autumn Company Party.’

You nodded idly as James explained it, vague memories coming back to you. The man next to you shot you a weird look, and you realised you were nodding at seemingly nothing. You cleared your throat and shifted awkwardly. Whoops.

Regardless, the blurb put your current situation into perspective. When you had chosen the book, you had expected to enter the world already working as a personal assistant, but you had a sneaking suspicion that this was the job interview and all the people sat with you were competition.

To confirm your suspicion, you opened the folder on your lap, and yep, it was filled with important documents, including your CV, degree certificate, and several references. Damn, for someone decently young, you seemed to be the perfect candidate. That did relieve some of the tension. The world was literally set up to push you into the role, and you were the perfect candidate, surely there was nothing to worry about. For now, you decided to try and relax. Job interviews were a pain in the ass, but this one hopefully wouldn’t be too bad. And you could always talk to James to pass the time.

‘James, I know you must be thinking something along the lines of, ‘what kind of human picks a life where they have a job, when they could choose to not have a job?’’

‘I have never had such a thought.’

‘But I’m playing the long game, James,’ you continued, ignoring her response. ‘This Hatake guy must be rolling in it, and so once we’re serious, there would be no reason for me to work anymore! And it’s not like we’d get divorced in an erotica novel, that wouldn’t make sense, so I just need this job to meet him, make him fall in love with me, and then, if I stay here, I’ll have a fancy CEO husband, and everything will work out great.’

‘I see. I believe humans term that strategy, ‘gold digging’.’

You were planning to argue back, but your outrage died on your lips when you realised that she was kind of right. You were only going to choose this omega if you actually loved him, of course, but you couldn’t deny that the main reason you had chosen this book in the first place was the money and possibility of a cushy life. And being able to retain access to the internet which was something you’d have to give up for a life with Itachi.

‘What backstory elements are set in stone here?’ you asked, realising that the amnesia trick wasn’t going to work a second time.

‘Primarily your qualifications and educational history. You also own both a flat and a car, although how you obtained those is up to you.’

Nice, that gave you a lot of freedom to work with. Also… was your flat nice? And what about your car? You hoped so, but even if they weren’t, you could get Hatake to pay for a nice upgrade.

A man with a clipboard walked out of the office door to your left and everyone in your vicinity snapped to attention. He had brown hair and intense, dark eyes that were a little unnerving. “The interviews for the personal assistant job have now begun. You will be called up one at a time. Ren Shimomura.”

The man who had given you a strange look earlier got up and walked into the office with a confident smile, his briefcase swinging gently by his side. When the door closed behind him, everyone relaxed a little and went back to their pointless busy tasks.

‘So, James, what can I expect from this job interview?’ you asked. You figured it wouldn’t hurt to be prepared, even if the universe was going to intervene for your success.

‘That question is more difficult to answer than you might think, human. Despite this pocket dimension being one of the most popular in the erotica category, no one has ever successfully passed the interview and obtained the personal assistant job.’

Your stomach dropped. What? That couldn’t be right, could it?

You laughed nervously, sure that you had misheard. ‘What? Surely the universe needs the person to get the job.’

‘Yes, it has been causing quite the issue. This world has been scheduled for removal for being too difficult to follow. You will be the last person from your realm to ever enter this one, whether you decide to stay or not.’

‘Thanks for warning me before I picked it,’ you ‘said’, your mental voice taking on a tinge of bitterness. So, you were pretty much doomed to failure here? Great.

‘I didn’t warn you, human.’

‘I know.’

Your mental conversation ended as the door to the office opened and the man, Ren, stormed out, looking like he was holding back angry tears. He exited the room swiftly, without so much of a glance back.

That certainly didn’t make you feel any better about your chances.

Neither did your name being called seconds later.

The man with the clipboard smiled at you as you stood, folder in hand. “Just in there, Mr. Hatake is waiting for you.”

You nodded and approached the door. Right, this was fine. You took a deep breath and reminded yourself of your situation. You didn’t need this job. You wouldn’t run out of money without it, you wouldn’t get blacklisted or arrested if something went wrong, you couldn’t die if something went very wrong. The very worst-case scenario was that you bungled this, spent the next two weeks enjoying some alone time in this world, and then returned to your beautiful witch.

So, really, what reason did you have to be nervous?

With that in mind, you took a fortifying breath and walked into the office with your head held high. This CEO couldn’t scare you.

The design of the office was much the same as the waiting room, with a monochrome colour scheme and minimal furniture. The entire back wall was glass, which bathed the office in natural light, but cast shadows around the impressive desk in the middle of the room. Behind the desk was an imposing desk chair that was currently faced away from you. The back of the chair was so high that you couldn’t technically tell if Hatake was sitting in it or not. In front of the desk was a much less impressive desk chair; presumably that chair was for you.

You walked towards your chair, marvelling at how cliché the whole ‘tall chair spin reveal’ thing was. What was he, a Bond villain? The main question though, was if he’d also be accidentally flashing his nipples at you. You stifled a laugh imagining a scary CEO turning around in his chair only for the buttons on his shirt to come flying off.

“Did I say that you could sit down?” The voice came from the highbacked chair, which was still facing away from you.

The CEO’s voice was hot, you couldn’t deny that, but his attitude was already ugly. What kind of high and mighty asshole spoke to people like that? Were you supposed to just stay standing until he offered the seat when he couldn’t even be bothered to face you? Fuck that.

Suddenly, what was remaining of your nervousness bled out of you, replaced by annoyance. Honestly, you had already accepted that you weren’t going to get this job or this omega as soon as James had explained the situation, but maybe you could still get something out of this. Like catharsis. You could berate Hatake on behalf of every shitty boss you couldn’t berate in the past and then this world would still be worth it.

“Unless you’re suffering from short term memory loss, there’s no need for me to answer that question.”

Finally, that seems to goad him into turning around. The chair swivelled, revealing Kakashi Hatake in all his glory. He was dressed in the exact kind of suit you expected for someone like him, expertly tailored, incredibly expensive, and in a tasteful blue colour. Just peeking out from his collar you noticed some clear scent patches, and you imagined you’d find the same ones on his wrists. He had grey-silver hair styled in a way that must have required a significant amount of hair wax, and equally grey eyes, one of which had a vertical scar running through it. He even had a frankly adorable beauty mark, what the fuck.

Fine. He was hot. That didn’t mean he wasn’t an asshole.

The look he was giving you was somehow both disparaging and uninterested, like he was looking at a badly painted wall.

“Why do you want this job?” he asked, voice bored and condescending. “You don’t seem like you’d be particularly good at it.”

You grit your teeth at his blatant disrespect, “Jobs provide the money which can be exchanged for goods and services required to facilitate survival, you see. Perhaps the silver spoon in your mouth prevented you from learning that dichotomy.” You missed your witch.

Kakashi raised an eyebrow. He held out a hand, and you wordlessly passed him your folder of documents. You were honestly surprised that he hadn’t just kicked you out already. His motivations became clear however, when he picked out your CV, ripped it in half, and then tossed it in the bin.

This asshole! You were furious.

Hatake pressed a button on a raised box on his desk and began to speak into it, presumably to dismiss you and ask for the next person to be sent in.

You didn’t need this job, you couldn’t get into any meaningful trouble, and this man was royally pissing you off. Something in you just snapped.

“Tenzou, send—”

You grabbed him by his boring, blue tie and stood, pulling him partially over the desk and towards you. He gasped in surprise, letting go of the button as both hands flew up to grab your wrist. You expected him to immediately pull you off him, but he didn’t. He was still, staring at you with wide eyes. For the first time since you’d walked into his office, it felt like he was properly looking at you.

“I am the best fucking personal assistant out of any of those people out there, and I will not have some bratty CEO talk down to me, understood?”

“I’ll call security,” he said quietly, voice strangely hoarse.

“Don’t bother.” You let him go and he fell back heavily into his ridiculous chair.

“Senpai?” The clipboard man’s voice floated through the speaker on the black box. “Is everything okay? You cut out.”

The man didn’t reply to the message, he only stared at you. His face was blank, but you had the feeling that there was a lot going on inside his head.

‘Remember the story, human.’

For a moment, you thought James was encouraging you to play nice for the sake of the story, but then you realised that she meant. Fuck, that’s right, Kakashi Hatake was a secret submissive. He was probably very turned on and very confused right now. You sent him a cocky grin.

“The job starts Monday, yes?” He nodded, dumbly. “I’ll see you then, 08:00 sharp. All my documents are in the folder.” You walked to the door confidently, and just as you reached it, you turned. “Have a good day, sir.”

You opened the door just as the clipboard man tried to do the same on the other side. You paid neither him nor any of the other candidates any mind, you just strode towards the exit, adrenaline rushing through your veins.

The fresh air and sun hit you as you stepped outside into the office’s car park.

‘James, oh my god, I grabbed him by his tie.’

‘I saw, human, it was very unexpected. No other human has attempted such a method.’

‘I would so be blacklisted if this were real, James. Did… Did I do a good job? It felt like I did at the time, playing up to his submissive side, but now I just feel like I was crazy and there’s no way he’d give me the job.’

‘Only time will tell, human, I do not have the answers.’

‘Time… I can do that.’ You gazed out over the sea of cars, all shimmering in the sun. ‘Now, James, which car is mine?’

…

Once you had successfully found your nicer than expected car, you headed to your mysterious flat. It took longer than you thought, but at least you’d learnt some more about James; she was terrible at giving directions and did not know what a roundabout was.

Your flat, much like your car, was nicer than you expected for a recent graduate that worked as a personal assistant. It was stylish and cosy, with lots of wood tones and warm, textured fabrics. It could have fallen out of an interior design magazine, right down to the perfectly placed bowls of fruit. The flat even had a guest room and a home office.

You were going to put this one down to porn logic again and figure out some sort of explanation for why you had the money for this in your backstory.

After doing some snooping around the flat, you flopped down on your bed, feeling strangely exhausted. You pulled out your phone (and how strange it was to have modern technology back!) and checked the date. It was Friday lunch time, and you didn’t have to go to the job, presuming you even got it, until Monday. That meant you had an entire weekend to do what you wanted. That was the best news you’d heard all day.

‘James, is the entire world, I guess, loaded, for want of a better word? Like, theoretically, if I travelled across the world to a random village, would the people there be real? Does the world function outside of the story?’

‘Once you choose to remain in a world, it functions exactly like the one you came from, yes, complete with up to billions of people who each have their own lives. Not everything is ah, loaded, in this demo though. I would recommend staying firmly within this city for the time being.”

‘Amazing! That’s so exciting, James!’

‘If you say so.’

Alongside modern technology, staying in this world would also give you more chance to travel. With Itachi, you would be mostly going on foot, perhaps on a horse if you were lucky, but here you could be on the other side of the world in a day.

That was for future you to weigh up though, right now you needed to find a bank statement of some kind, because you wanted to spend this weekend pampering yourself and you needed to know your budget. You could think about Kakashi Hatake and this world later, once you had your thoughts in order.

The weekend passed in a blur of bubble baths, food delivery apps, and films. You’d even gone for a dip in your complex’s pool. It had been nice to recharge. You had enjoyed spending time with Itachi immensely, but you’d had almost no proper alone time for over half a month, and it was sorely needed.

The only other thing of note happened on Saturday, when you received an email from Hatake’s company, which contained your new company account and login details.

…

Walking into work on Monday was a surreal feeling that you couldn’t put into words. No one acted like anything strange had happened. You were treated like a normal new hire, which you suspected meant Hatake had kept the details of your interview to himself.

Speaking of Hatake, he was apparently in meetings all morning and so you wouldn’t see him for a few hours. You didn’t know if you were irritated or relieved that your likely awkward reunion would be postponed.

“So, here is Kakashi’s calendar, which kind of functions like the core of your job,” Iruka, the man who was training you, said. “You’ll be in charge of organising his appointments and commitments and reminding him to attend them.” The last part was added with a tone that suggested Hatake had not always been the best at either being on time or showing up at all.

“Got it. No double bookings, and smack Hatake with a ruler if he tries to escape.”

Iruka snorted, but quickly smothered the laugh with a hand. “Pretty much. For today, I’ve gone through your inbox and marked the emails that require appointments as urgent. You just need to schedule them and add them to his calendar. It’s pretty busy at the moment because of the Autumn Company Party at the end of the month, so don’t worry if everything’s a bit much. My desk is over there, so you can ask for help at any time, okay?”

“Thanks, you’re a lifesaver.” You grinned at him, and he smiled back.

“Good luck!” With that he was gone. That wasn’t the first time the Autumn Company Party had come up, but you still weren’t sure what that had to do with the plot of his pocket dimension. It certainly wasn’t as straight forward as ‘collect the potion ingredients’.

‘James, what’s the deal with this party? What’s going to happen at it?’

‘There are many, many ways the event can play out, human. Seeing that you are the first to make it past the interview, I cannot even tell you which outcomes are most likely.’

‘Damn. Well, thanks anyway.’

You ended up whizzing through your work. It was incredibly simple, which could have been because they were taking it easy on you for your first day, or because work in general was easier in porn universes. You finished before Hatake was freed from his morning meetings, so you decided to do a little googling on your new boss. As such a high-profile CEO, you were sure you could find some information on him.

You put his name into the search bar and scrolled through the top results.

There were mostly news articles and links to the company websites, but eventually his Wikipedia page popped up and you clicked on it, skimming down the paragraphs immediately. Your eyebrows kept rising up as you read. His father, the original founder of the company had committed suicide when Kakashi was four years old, leaving him an orphan. He had been immediately added to the company’s board of directors (at four years old?!), and when he’d turned eighteen and those overseeing the company didn’t seem keen to pass it back to him, Kakashi had staged a business coup and seized control by force.

Jeez, what a life story.

Closing the Wikipedia page, you opened a couple of articles instead. One was a gossip magazine speculating on his famous bachelorhood and why he hadn’t settled down yet. Another was talking about the large donations he had made to several dog and animal welfare charities. The third was just a listicle of pictures of him from various point throughout his life. Ha. He looked like he was such a cute, grumpy kid.

You had to admit that his character was perfectly set up to redeem him for being an asshole at your first meeting. Dead parents, a tragic backstory, betrayal from those supposed to look after him, an animal lover… You bet that he had been forced to supress his emotions to avoid being manipulated as a child, too. That was about as stereotypical as you could get. Were he a fictional character, his fans would easily excuse any rudeness and ruthlessly defend him online. And that was fine, but they weren’t the ones who had to be on the receiving end of his rudeness.

Ugh, you didn’t know what to do with him. On one hand, you were happy ignoring him for being mean to you in your interview, but on the other, you kind of wanted to get to know him to see what the story was about. Maybe you’d put in a bit of effort as a show of good faith, but if he insisted on rebuffing you, you’d give up and find some other way to enjoy yourself. Yeah, that sounded like a good plan.

Dog lovers were your weakness, so you couldn’t give up on him completely, not just yet.

You closed the tabs and, checking the time, you realised you still had some leeway before Hatake was free. You needed to come up with your backstory sharpish, because you didn’t have amnesia this time, and people would likely start asking questions about you once lunch hit. Best get your story straight first.

You grabbed a post-it note and jotted down your favourite acronym, MLHH (Money, Love, Health, Happiness), to keep you on target.  

Loving parents, you definitely wanted those. Were they the ones you wanted funding your lifestyle? Hmm, no, how about a rich, eccentric aunt that sent money all the time? Yes, you’d always wanted a fun, rich uncle or aunt to spoil you. Perhaps she had been the one to buy you the house and car. You jotted it all down. You also crafted yourself two best friends and a couple of hobbies, just to enrich your life. As per James’ instructions, you left the academic stuff alone.

“Am I paying you to write details about your own life on post it notes?” A sudden voice from behind made you jump, smacking your knees on the underside of the desk with a bang.

You laughed awkwardly as you came face to face with the man of the hour, Kakashi Hatake, who had chosen a charcoal grey suit for today, giving him an overall monochrome vibe that matched the office building. He was staring at your post it note, unimpressed.

You snatched the note and put it in your pocket. Quick, find some way to change the subject!

“I’ve updated your calendar with more meetings and commitments. This afternoon you only have a phone call with a representative from a company that sells… custom dog bandanas?” You decided not to question it. “The rest of the afternoon is business as usual.”

He watched you for a moment before he nodded, and turned to enter his office door, which was only a few feet from your desk.

“Just so you know,” he said, turning to look at you over his shoulder, “more work is periodically added to your task list, you just need to refresh the page.”

The door slammed shut behind him. You made a frustrated noise. He was so rude, with his annoyingly hot face and perfect voice. God, he got on your nerves like no one else. Ugh, you already regretted deciding to give him a chance.

You refreshed the task list and watched it fill up with new tasks.

Why did you pick a world where you had a job again? Oh yeah, you were playing the long game. The long game sucked.

You spent the rest of the workday completing tasks and flip flopping on whether it was worth trying to chase the plot and romance Hatake. Instinctually you led towards no, but when you remembered how he’d responded to you in the interview, you wavered. Ultimately, your curiosity was too much to resist, so you hatched a plan to spend some time with him.

…

“Did you have someone sneak you lunch through the window, or have you not eaten yet today?” you asked, waltzing into Hatake’s office at exactly 17:05, coat and bag ready to leave.

Hatake finished whatever he was writing before putting down the pen and giving you a flat look. “I don’t see how that’s any of your business, and I’m certain I told you to knock before coming in.”

“Firstly, the workday ended five minutes ago so you’re not the boss of me anymore. Secondly, that was the clearest no I’ve ever heard. You should make time to eat lunch, you know, it’s good for you.”

“If you don’t have anything of use to say, then leave.” Ugh, why were you dealing with this asshole again?

“Actually, I do.” He raised an eyebrow at you, like he was already dismissing your message. “Get dinner with me.”

That actually seemed to catch him off guard, if only for a moment. You had honestly been wondering if the side of him you glimpsed in your interview was some kind of hallucination, but there was a flicker of that same man now. Unfortunately, although you could see that, you could also see the moment he shut down the reaction and returned to his flat, impassive stare.

“I’m busy this evening—”

“I already moved your appointment to tomorrow morning.”

He narrowed his eyes at you. You didn’t know if it was irritation at your messing with his schedule or at interrupting him, but you did know that you were getting on his nerves. Good.

“And I suppose, if you’re inviting me, then you’re paying?” he challenged. “Fair warning, I have expensive taste.”

‘James, quick, what’s the best restaurant in the area?’

‘Kakashi Hatake often visits a restaurant about two miles from here, called La Liaison. It’s French, and incredibly pricy.’

Right, you tried to remember what you’d seen you your bank details. You could definitely afford one fancy meal; it was affording everything else after that that was the problem.

Hatake’s smug face at your hesitation spurred you on. You wracked your brain for some kind of solution.

‘James, if I decide that my rich aunt sends me large lump sums of money every month, will my bank account automatically replenish by the end of this demo?’

‘Technically, yes, although it will only happen if you choose this dimension permanently, as your rich aunt does not yet exist. You must also remember to speak or write any information you want to be true for it to take effect.’

Perfect. You could wipe that smug look off Hatake’s face, live a bit more frugally for the rest of the demo, and if for some unknown reason you chose to stay here, you’d have your money automatically replenished. You just had to remember to write the details down after dinner tonight.

“Of course, it’ll be my treat,” you smiled, tips tight. “Do you like French food? I heard La Liaison is lovely.”

Kakashi studied you for a moment, like he was trying to figure out what game you were playing. Just as you thought you’d won the little verbal exchange, Hatake sent you a mocking eye smile. “And how are you planning on gaining a reservation at such short notice? The next available evening bookings are for two months from now.”

You tensed up like you’d been dealt a physical blow. Fuck, you forgot about bookings. There was no way you could allow him to win just like that, though. You took a deep breath, porn logic, I believe in you, please help me out, I’m trying to woo him, just as you wanted. Kind of.

“I’m sure it will all work out!” You voice was artificially chipper, and you could tell that Hatake was picking up on your anxiety. “Come on, what’s the harm? Let’s go!”

He watched you evenly. That was one thing you’d noticed about Hatake; he always thought before he spoke, choosing each action and word carefully. It made sense once you considered his childhood and was equal parts sad and irritating.

Just when you thought he was about to refuse and dismiss you, Hatake chuckled and stood, closing his computer and grabbing his suit jacket from the back of his ridiculously dramatic desk chair.

“I’ll have my chauffeur drop us off,” he said, walking to the door. You followed, kind of stunned that he had agreed at all. He locked the office door behind him. “There’s no parking available at this time of day in the town centre.”

You walked through the office side by side, watching your coworkers pack up or work late.

Everyone noticed you two, armed with bags and coats that made it obvious you were leaving together. There were gasps, there was gossiping, there were whispers. The man with the clipboard, who had introduced himself to you as Yamato, looked like he had seen a ghost. Was it really that strange to see this CEO leave work on time, or was it because he was with you?

Hatake paid them no mind, and you tried to do the same.

It was strange that he agreed to join you, but you didn’t get your hopes up that this meant he suddenly liked you. It was more likely that he was coming in order to force your hand. If you were humiliated by there being no tables, or not being able to afford the food you said you could, it would likely stop you from bothering him outside of work again.

You just really, really hoped there would somehow be a table.

Once you arrived at the car park, there was a sleek, black car waiting for you. You weren’t sure if Hatake had somehow called ahead without you noticing, or if his car was already ready for him, but it was very convenient. If the chauffeur was surprised that Hatake had a guest, he didn’t mention it.

The car was so obviously expensive that you felt a little uncomfortable sitting in it. You had never been so conscious of your hand placement in your life. The brat of a CEO didn’t seem to have the same problem, relaxing easily against the leather, looking right at home. He gave the driver the name of the restaurant, and you were off.

You took a moment to beg the pocket dimension that somehow you would be able to get a seat. ‘Porn logic, I’ve always loved and respected you, please pull through for me, just this once! I won’t be able to handle Hatake’s smug grin without punching him in the face.’

‘My name is James, human, and I cannot control these pocket dimensions.’

You snorted, ‘I wasn’t speaking to you James, sorry.’

“What’s so funny?” Hatake asked, breaking the silence. Oh, you had laughed out loud; you had to stop doing that. Were you also doing it when you were with Itachi, but there were just fewer people around to comment on it? Itachi seemed like the sort who would take a lot of weirdness in stride.

“Your face.”

Hatake let out an amused breath, “Are you always so childish?”

“What can I say? You bring out the worst in me.”

“Approximately five minutes until arrival, sir,” the chauffeur said, speaking through a speaker that connected the front and back sections of the car.

“Just Kakashi is fine,” he sighed. “I’ve told you that a hundred times.”

“If you say so, sir.” Hatake rolled his eyes but dropped the issue.

The final five minutes passed it silence.

…

La Liaison was a small modern building nestled at the very end of the high street, decorated in pastel blue and covered in artificial ivy. The whole building exuded a timeless elegance that made you glad your work dress code was formal. Stepping through the doors, you were welcomed by warm lighting, live piano music, and an impeccably dressed host. This was the exact kind of place you could see Hatake fitting right in.

“Good afternoon, and welcome to La Liaison. Can I take the name on your reservation, please?”

You could practically feel the amusement radiating off the smug asshole behind you as you were faced with the exact situation he had predicted. You just had to go for it. You believed in the porn logic!

(And if it didn’t work you were going to return to your flat with your tail between your legs, make James pull you out of this dimension early, and then ask Itachi for a potion that could remove memories instead of bringing them back.)

“Ah, well, we don’t technically have a reservation, but an acquaintance of mine mentioned that they just had to cancel theirs, so we were hoping there’d be a free table.”

Please work, please work, please work.

The two seconds between your request and the host’s response felt like an agonising eternity. Failure wasn’t an option; you couldn’t lose to your awful boss.

The relief you felt when the host’s face melted into a smile almost knocked you to your knees.

“Is that so? Yes, I just got off the phone with them, you’re lucky no one else has claimed the table yet. If you’ll pass my college your coats, I’ll take you to your table.”

Yes, yes, yes!! You loved porn logic so much. It seemed like anything was fair game as long as it pushed you and Mr. Smug together. Speaking of Mr. Smug, you mouthed ‘I told you so’, as you walked to your table. He did not respond.

The table was, unsurprisingly, very romantic. It was secluded away in the corner, pressed up against a window and yet sectioned from the rest of the restaurant by a divider. The table sat two people, and its white tablecloth was covered in candles and rose petals. Of course, the cancelled reservation was for a romantic date. You weren’t going to complain though; a table was a table.

You both sat down. You briefly debated pulling out the chair for Hatake, but you decided against it at the last minute. You were both handed menus and informed of the soup of the day before the waiter left you in peace. The illusion of privacy helped you relax, despite the stuffy atmosphere.

“An acquaintance, huh?” Kakashi asked, unfolding his napkin and laying it over his lap. He obviously didn’t believe your lie.

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re incredibly annoying?” you said, instead of answering his question.

“Once or twice.”

“Well then,” you shot him a sarcastic smile, “I’m glad you have such honest people in your life.”

“As am I.” The eye smile he sent you this time seemed more genuine, and you had to hold back your laugh.

The conversation faded for a moment as the background chatter from the rest of the restaurant filled the space. It was weird to be here with him, and maybe you were still riding the high of getting a table, but you were already enjoying yourself.

“So… you come here often?” you asked, picking up the menu. You supressed a wince at the prices. “It seems like you’re right at home.”

“It makes for a convenient location to dazzle those who demand such treatment before they’ll sign anything.”

“Ugh, so this is where you take people to schmooze them? Gross.” You flipped over the menu to find the drinks section, only to belatedly realise that the drinks had their own menu already on the table. “I can’t imagine you doing that successfully; you’re so rude.”

“Maybe you just bring out the worst in me.”

The way he reused your words from earlier reluctantly brought a smile to your face. Okay fine. Fine! You’d admit that he was witty, and you had some good chemistry. And he was hot. But that was it! That didn’t mean you were going to fall in love with someone so annoying!

‘I believe you were also interested in his love for dogs, human alpha.’

‘James, I’m trying to live in denial here, and you’re ruining it.’

‘My apologies. Does that mean that I should also refrain from mentioning your obvious obsession with his beauty mark?’

Sometimes, you weren’t sure that James wasn’t an elaborate troll.

Scanning the menu, you decided the vegetarian pasta looked nice. And if it was also the cheapest thing on the menu, well that was just a coincidence. This better be one of the best meals of your life.

Kakashi left his menu completely untouched. Right, he’d been here countless of times to charm people into signing away their money. He was probably treating this dinner as something similar, but with you wanting something from him instead. You doubted he’d believe you if you said you were doing this out of curiosity. But the questioned remained, how could you make this feel different for him?

Suddenly, it hit you; he liked when other people took control. You had an idea.

‘James, can you tell me what Kakashi normally orders from here?’

‘He always orders one of the seafood dishes, accompanied by a white wine.’

Right. Perfect. What you were about to do would be so out of order in real life, but you had plot armour, and honestly you wanted to see what would happen.

When the waiter returned, he directed his, “Are you ready to order?”, towards Kakashi. He probably recognised him if he was a regular, and figured he was schmoozing another hapless soul.

That didn’t fit what you had in mind though.

“Yes, we are,” you said confidently, before Kakashi could speak. “We’ll have a bottle of the Chateau Sixtine Blanc and some still water for the table. For food, I’ll have the vegetarian pasta, and he’ll have the Coquilles Saint-Jacques.”

Kakashi’s stare was intense, but he didn’t intervene. The waiter seemed taken aback that you were ordering for the table, but when Kakashi made no move to dispute what you’d said, he nodded, collected your menus, and left. You expected to be admonished in some way, but Kakashi remained silent.

Drinks arrived quickly. The waiter poured you both a glass of the wine and some water before he was gone again. Kakashi picked up the wine glasses and swirled it dramatically before taking a sip.

When he spoke, you had expected a question about how you found out his usual order, or perhaps a comment on the wine, but no, instead, he was his usual blunt self.

“I wonder what it is you’re hoping to gain from this.”

“That’s fine, you can wonder all you like.”

He sent you a measured look, “Has anyone ever told you you’re incredibly annoying?”

You grinned, “Nope!”

“I see. Well, I hope you’ll be blessed with some honest people in your life soon, I’ve found having them around to be extraordinarily helpful.”

You snorted mid sip of wine, which probably didn’t look attractive. Coughing, you looked up, expecting a judgemental look for behaving such a way in a fancy restaurant, but Kakashi just looked amused.

“Can I ask you a question?” You dabbed your lips with your napkin to soak up any stray wine drops. “What was the deal with that interview? It didn’t seem like you even wanted any applicants there. Was it just some weird form of employment hazing?”

“Simple. I didn’t want an assistant; I work better alone.”

“Then why hold the interview at all?”

“The board of directors were very… persistent. I knew they’d only shut up if I scared off every personal assistant in the city.”

You sent him a searching look, “But you hired me.”

“I did.”

“Why?”

He shrugged, “You had comedy value.”

Comedy value!? This dick.

“Liar,” you shot back. “You just think I’m hot, admit it.”

You got another one of his infuriating eye smiles. “If you say so.” God, you wanted to punch him, and maybe kiss him. Fuck.

“Whatever, just know that it’s your turn to pay for dinner next time, an I’m ordering the most expensive thing I can find.”

“If we go out for dinner too often, people will talk.”

“As if they aren’t already,” you said, referencing the sate of the office you’d left behind. You’d bet that they’d all stayed late to swap theories. “Yamato looked at us like a child who’d just walked in on his parents having sex.”

Kakashi seemed amused, “He would not appreciate that description.”

“That doesn’t make it any less true.”

As the conversation flowed, so did the wine. You were surprised by how much fun you were having. Hatake was a great conversationalist and the rapid-fire banter had you laughing out loud more than once. The food was just as good as you’d hoped as well.

To your utter delight, Hatake’s face turned pink as he drank. So cute. You couldn’t stop yourself from reaching out to feel the warm skin. Kakashi leaned into the hand in an almost nuzzle. You did not expect him to reciprocate. Shocked, you froze, hand still on his cheek.

Hatake seemed surprised too because he suddenly wrenched himself away from you. You pulled your hand back like it’d been burnt.

You’d bet anything that he was touch starved.

“Sorry, Hatake, I don’t know why I—”

“Kakashi,” he muttered, “you can call me Kakashi. Everyone does.”

“Kakashi,” you repeated, sending him a small smile. Maybe he wasn’t so bad. You kind of wanted to lick his face.

Kakashi’s phone buzzed in his pocket, shattering the moment. Disappointingly, he immediately slipped it out of his pocket and checked the message.  You weren’t exactly surprised that he put checking his phone over your conversation, but it was still rude, whether you expected it or not.

Kakashi made an amused noise as he saw the expression on your face. “I only have audible notifications on for important people; I’m just checking to make sure nothing is wrong, there’s no need to look so offended.”

You sputtered, face heating up, “I’m not offended! I was just thinking it was rude to check your phone at dinner.”

“Ruder than ordering for someone else without their permission?”

“Whatever,” you mumbled, crossing your arms. “You liked it.”

Kakashi didn’t acknowledge you as he checked his messaged. You watched his eyes move from side to side as he read, before he eventually barked out a laugh and put the phone away.

“What’s funny?”

“One of my friends evidently found out that I was out to dinner. He has wished us luck on our youthful endeavours.”

You pulled a face at the weird phrasing. “He sounds… interesting.”

“You have no idea,” Kakashi said before emptying his wine glass.

“People seem so surprised about this. You don’t get out much then?”

Kakashi barked a laugh that sounded surprisingly bitter, and then didn’t elaborate. In true erotica love interest fashion, there was something brewing below the surface. Touch starved, orphaned, rich, but lonely, he was about as stereotypical as it got. You wondered if he’d also killed someone like Itachi? Hmm, probably not. This was a modern universe, and there were normally more severe consequences for things like that. It would have at least been mentioned on his wiki page.

By the time you had finished eating, the city outside the window had lit up in the darkness. The traffic had died down once rush hour ended, but the occasional car still passed by. You checked your phone and realised you’d been having dinner with Kakashi for almost two hours.

Your pride didn’t stop you from admitting that the time was flying because you were having fun.

Still, it was getting late, so you waved down a waiter and requested the bill. You were hoping that, seeing as you’d taken charge with ordering, that he would… yes! The waiter put the bill down in front of you instead of Kakashi.

You grinned at him smugly; you’d been assigned dom by wait staff.

He rolled his eyes at you, but you could see the smile on his face.

The bill wasn’t great, but it could have been worse. Clearly you hadn’t managed to keep your grimace supressed completely though because Kakashi noticed.

“Having second thoughts?” He was annoyingly observant.

You had never pulled out your card faster, grateful that you’d found your pin number written down in some old documents in your flat. Kakashi watched you pay, a strange glint in his eyes.

Did he assume you were going to dine and dash and make him pay or something? No… that wasn’t it. His ears had gone red too, and not from the alcohol.

He liked it, you realised gleefully. He liked that you ordered for him. He liked that you paid for him. He liked that you had decided on the place and time and dragged him along. It fit his reaction and it fit his character.

You were certain that most of his acquaintances either saw Kakashi as some kind of aloof, ‘didn’t believe in love’ character, or as a hard dom. And on the surface, sure, you could understand why they thought that, but how could anyone continue to think so once they spoke to him properly, when he was practically crying out for someone to take care of him?

Exhilaration ran through you. Maybe you were in this for more than just curiosity now.

“Come on,” you said, standing. “It’s getting late, and I still need to get my car—Shoot, I’m probably over the limit. I guess it’s a taxi for me then.”

“I can drop you home.” Kakashi stood as well, and you both walked to collect your coats. “It won’t be a problem.”

“Thanks,” you said relieved. You needed to at least try to budget after the amount you just spent on dinner.

Just as you were putting on your coats, Kakashi’s phone ran in his pocket. Remembering what he said about only having important people on vibrate, you remained silent as he took the call. You couldn’t quite make out the murmurs on the other side of the call, but Kakashi didn’t look pleased.

“Right… Okay… And there’s no alternate route? Of course… It can’t be helped, just meet me at the office.”

Did he have a last-minute work obligation perhaps?

“Yes, okay, I’ll see you soon.” He hung up the phone and slipped it into his pocket. “Bad news, there’s been a minor accident on the road and my driver can’t get to us. We can get through on the pedestrian pathways just fine, so we’ll have to go back to the office on foot.”

“Oh, that’s not a big deal, it’s only about twenty minutes, right?” You didn’t understand why he seemed so serious about a minor hold up. Did he think you were going to be mad at him or something? Kakashi relaxed imperceptibly as it became clear that you didn’t mind.

It only occurred to you later, once you were well into the walk, that Kakashi was used to schmoozing a bunch of hoity toity rich people at La Liaison who probably would throw a fit at such a minor inconvenience. Those kinds of people were the worst.

“Why did you ask me to dinner tonight?” Kakashi asked. He spoke casually, but in a way that suggested the casualness was being used to disguise a more serious question.

You knew that he wouldn’t stop until he got an answer that satisfied him, and you didn’t want your relationship to be stained by doubts as to your intentions, so you decided to give him an answer as close to the truth as possible. If you started talking about erotic fiction, he’d probably call some kind of doctor.

“Because you seemed miserable, and I was curious about you. Figured this would kill two birds with one stone. Also, you piss me off, I won’t lie.”

“You took me to dinner because I piss you off?” Kakashi asked, a ghost of a smile on his face. “Is that some kind of fetish or is it a psychological defect?”

You squawked indignantly and tried to hit him on the arm. He dodged it, laughing.

“You’re one to talk! You hired me after I grabbed you by the tie in a job interview. That’s got to be a fetish and a psychological defect!” You shoved him on the shoulder, and he immediately shoved you back, and before you knew it, you were having a children’s battle on the street.

A random woman from across the street gave you a dirty look, you stuck your tongue out at her. Kakashi giggled, like, actually giggled, and that sent you into hysterics.

Maybe you’d had more to drink than you thought.

“You know,” you said, throwing your arm over his shoulder, “next time I take you out, we’re going to McDonald’s. It’s cheaper, and I think it’ll be funny to watch you sit there in your suit. Wait, have you ever been to a McDonald’s before?”

“I’m wealthy, I’m not an alien.” He rolled his eyes at you. He seemed to do that a lot. You couldn’t imagine him sitting in a McDonald’s. “I go every other week because my dogs like the carrot sticks from there.”

“You feed your dogs carrot sticks from McDonald’s?”

“Yep.”

“Have you ever considered, I don’t know, buying a pack of carrots?”

“No, because they like the ones from McDonald’s.”

You shook your head in disbelief. Rich people were crazy. “How many dogs do you have anyway?”

“Eight.”

“EIGHT?!”

…

Car parks at night, familiar or not, were unnerving in the way that liminal spaces always were. At least you were almost at the office doors, where Kakashi’s chauffeur was going to pick you both up. You were glad to finally get there, because as fun as the walk had been, the Autumn night was surprisingly chilly, and it was taking genuine effort to remember all of Kakashi’s dogs’ names. You were honestly surprised that the porn logic didn’t add any strange occurrences on the walk.

Naturally, the second that thought formed in your head, something happened.

As you passed round the side of a tall fence, your shirt got caught on a stray piece of metal. What would have been a minor inconvenience, barely a rip, in your old reality, was a complete pornographic disaster in this one, as every button on your shirt somehow ripped off, leaving your shirt hanging open.

The cold air hit your skin and goosebumps erupted all over your chest. Yelping, you dragged the pieces of shirt back together and held them firmly closed. Obviously, you weren’t fast enough to stop Kakashi from getting a look. The way he was pointedly looking away from you, rosy cheeked, said it all.

“Stupid fence,” you grumbled, giving it a dirty look. This wasn’t exactly the first time, or even the coldest time, that porn logic had decided to spontaneously strip someone, but it always managed to catch you off guard. Did the people who lived in erotica worlds always carry spare changes of clothes just in case?

“Are you hurt?” Kakashi asked. He sounded a little awkward, but ultimately sincere. It was nice that he’d decided to go for genuine concern over sarcasm, and you decided to do the same.

“I’m fine, it just caught me by surprise. At least it’s dark so no one caught an eye full.”

Kakashi coughed. Okay, no one apart from him.

“I’ll send a message to maintenance in the morning, but for now, I have a spare shirt in my office that you’re welcome to borrow for the evening.”

Huh, what do you know, people did keep spare clothes around. You were about to decline, citing the late hour and the fact that you were wearing a coat that you could do up, when you realised what was happening. You’d bet anything that something sexy would happen if you followed him up to his office.

“That would be great, thanks.” You weren’t going to let this slide from your grip when he was so pretty. And honestly, he was starting to seem like less of an asshole in general. He was fun, traumatised, and had eight dogs, if that wasn’t your type, you didn’t know what was.

…

Flickering the lights on in his office, Kakashi went into one of the cupboards to look for the shirt while you snooped at the ornaments he had on his shelves. Notably, there were no pictures. You picked up a weird ceramic circle statue and turned it over to see if it did anything cool.

You had passed a security guard on the way up to Kakashi’s office, that looked very intrigued as to why you two were together so late, and why your shirt was ripped open, so you resigned yourself to the rumour mill only getting worse by tomorrow.

“Are you nosy by nature or just interested in my office in particular?”

“Shut up.” You put back the ornament and turned to face him. He was holding the spare shirt in his hand. “You want to fuck me so bad, don’t deny it.”

You expected another eye roll.

“Oh, you have no idea,” he growled, watching you intensely. Oh, that wasn’t an eye roll.

One moment you were staring at him, unsure of what to say, and the next, you were crashing together, lips, tongue, and teeth, in a horny and aggressive kiss. You didn’t know which one of you moved first, you didn’t really care, you only knew that Kakashi was hot and infuriating, and you wanted to kiss him until he couldn’t make that smug face anymore.

Kissing Kakashi was giving you whiplash. He was different to Itachi in every way you could think of. He was confident, aggressive, he fought with you, clashed with you, and he seemed to determined to kiss you twice as hard as you kissed him.

It was obvious that Kakashi’s submission wouldn’t be freely given like Itachi’s, no, you would have to earn it. The challenge scratched at your instincts, and suddenly you wanted to prove to this omega that he could trust you. A good orgasm should lay the groundwork for that.

Both coats were quickly discarded as you kissed, and your ruined shirt fell off moments later.

You had been consciously avoiding his hair in fear of the amount of wax you figured he used to keep that hair style, but one weak moment, as Kakashi’s hips jolted forwards towards yours, you forgot, and ran you fingers through it.

To your surprise, your fingers glided through the soft strands easily. You were so shocked that you broke the kiss. You furrowed your eyebrows as you examined his hair.

“What are you doing?” he panted, confused.

“How the fuck does your hair stay up like that without any hairspray or wax?”

“What?” He sounded baffled. “This is just what my hair looks like. Does it matter?”

“I guess not.”

The kiss resumed, somehow more desperate and aggressive than before. Kakashi grabbed your waist so hard that you could feel the pin pricks from his nails digging into your skin. In return, you made use of your new found knowledge and grabbed a handful of Kakashi’s hair.

You pushed him backwards, never once breaking the rhythm of your kiss, until his upper thighs made contact with the front of his desk. His pot of pens fell as the desk jolted, scattering the expensive pens all over the ground. Neither of you paid it any mind.

When you finally pulled away for air, Kakashi wasted no time, immediately latching onto your neck with reckless abandon. There was something feral about him that was making you hot. He didn’t hold back. You could tell that he was experienced, and he was using every drop of that experience to his advantage.

While he was distracted, you worked on undoing his buttons. It was harder than it looked to remain focused while Kakashi was doing his best impression of a vampire on your neck.

“You have way too many fucking buttons on this shirt.”

“It’s a normal number of buttons,” he murmured against your skin.

“There is literally nothing normal about you.”

“And you say I’m the rude one.”

“That’s because you fucking are.”

Eventually, you managed to undo the last button. Your noise of triumph morphed into a moan as Kakashi nipped around your collar bone. You used his hair to tug him back before loosening his tie and pushing the shirt off his shoulders.

The way his torso looked, bare but with a loose tie hanging over it, unlocked a kink you didn’t know you had. In fact, everything about him was hot. As you dragged the shirt down his arms, you could feel his muscles flexing. Kakashi was strong and broad, and he wore it so well.

You didn’t bother pulling the shirt off all the way, instead letting it bunch at his wrists, acting as a semi-restraint. He tugged at it experimentally, and when he found it restricting his movement, his pupils dilated.

You cooed as you ran your hands all over his naked torse. That’s right, he was a forceful person, certainly, but any shows of dominance were likely performative or learnt behaviours, because this man was a giant sub at heart.

You grabbed his bottom lip between your teeth and pulled it lightly. Kakashi growled at you, but you knew what he was doing; he wasn’t telling you to stop, he was challenging you. You growled back, stronger, louder, and just as you thought, his growling stopped, and his scent took on a delicious hint of submission.

“God, you really are annoyingly hot,” you growled, biting along his jaw. “Emphasis on annoying.”

“Takes one to know one,” he fired back, squeezing your waits.

“Mutual handjob?” you whispered against his skin, already undoing his trousers, before doing the same with yours.

“That the first intelligent thing you’ve said all night.”

“Fuck you.”

You grabbed Kakashi’s muscular thighs and lifted him slightly until he was perched on his desk. A stack of papers tipped over and fluttered to the ground, but that wasn’t a problem for present you, so you happily ignored the chaos in favour of the panting omega in front of you.

You took your dick out from your pants and did the same for Kakashi. They bumped up against each other, searingly hot and unflinchingly hard. You let out a whistle of appreciation at his cock. It was big, bigger than most alphas you’d met, and certainly bigger than any omega’s cock you’d ever seen. In fact, just eyeballing it, he was roughly the same size as you. His shaft was as pale as the rest of him, but the head was an angry red. It was girthy too, and it felt hot and solid in your palm.

Purposefully, you thrust your hips forward, guiding your cock against his with both of your hands. Kakashi moaned, thrusting up to meet you. He could only watch, his hands restrained as they were.

You kept your hands around the dicks, keeping them aligned as you both started to rut against each other. Beads of pre cum quickly made their appearance, which only made everything else feel that much better.

There was something deeply satisfying about what you were doing, especially because you were both still half-dressed. It made it feel desperate, like you couldn’t wait long enough to get your clothes off, too desperately attracted to each other, and had instead chosen to rub off on each other like horny teenagers.

You made out messily while you grinded against each other. Maintaining a consistent pace was a little difficult, especially as things got wetter and wetter, but you managed. There was something sexy about the chaos. The increased sensitivity from being in the erotica world didn’t hurt either.

Your moans and groans increased in frequency as you got closer. If felt like every nerve ending you had was on fire, and Kakashi looked much like you felt, covered in a thin sheen of sweat that was obvious under the hard corporate lighting.

Technically, with it being so bright inside and so dark outside, anyone who happened to glance up would have got a glimpse of you, but you were both too far gone to care.

“You love having someone take control of you, don’t you Kakashi,” you moaned, pressing your lips against his. “You’re tired of always being in control, aren’t you? The big CEO, everyone’s relying on you, but who do you get to rely on? Who looks after you? You want someone to do that, don’t you? You’re a walking, talking CEO stereotype.”

“Who says I’m going to give control to you?” he panted, licking his lips. “Aren’t you getting ahead of yourself?”

“Hmm, nope, I think I’m right on track,” you teased. Already picking up on his proclivity for biting, you gave a bite in return, just shy of where a mating mark might theoretically go. Kakashi gasped, his hands straining at the shirt that restrained them. “I’ll get you to submit to me properly, one day.”

“We’ll see.”

The alcohol and the increased sensitivity were mixing together to make this tryst shorter than expected, but Kakashi seemed to be in the same boat, so you couldn’t bring yourself to care. The banter ceased as the final stretch towards your orgasms started.

As your ending approached, you bent down and sealed your lips with Kakashi’s once more. Suddenly, everything crested, and pleasure flowed over you in waves. Your thrusts got sloppy, but neither of you cared. Kakashi came with a guttural moan. His stomach muscles flexing in a hypnotic dance.

The extra cum afforded by the porn logic soaked both your dicks and your hands, staining both pairs of trousers too. It dripped onto the carpet, and if the security guard didn’t spread a rumour about you and Kakashi hooking up, one of the cleaners probably would.

Some of Kakashi’s cum had even landed on the spare shirt, so you now had a choice between a torn shirt, or one covered in cum to match your stained trousers. Great. Why did horny you always make such bad decisions?

You and Kakashi remained leaning against each other for a while, just catching your breaths and marvelling at how fast your relationship had move. You wouldn’t have believed it if someone had told you during your interview that you’d end up grinding on that asshole’s desk a few days later.

‘I would have believed it.’

‘Thanks, James.’

Kakashi opened his mouth to speak, but the door to his office suddenly opened, cutting him off. You both stiffened, snapping up to face the intruder like a pair of deer in headlights.

There, standing in the doorway with the expression of a man who was entirely done with life, was Kakashi’s chauffeur. Instead of an apology of any kind, the man just sighed.

“The car is downstairs when you are ready. Please try and clean up before getting in, the leather won’t forget these kinds of smells easily.” With that, he left, shutting the door firmly behind him.

You and Kakashi looked at each other, then to the door, and then to each other, before you both burst out laughing.

What a way to end the night.

Next Chapter

[bunny-lily]

Tether Me - Chapter 2

Pairing(s): Geto/Gojo/Reader

Summary: “Hey! Didn’t keep you waitin’ too long, did we?”

“No, not long,” you assured, fighting hard to keep your eyes off his friend for however long possible, vainfully clinging to your sanity. You knew that as soon as you centered your vision on him, your ability for conscious thought would evaporate. 

You wanted to present yourself as at least marginally normal as a first impression, though you doubted you were achieving that by avoiding the obvious third presence. You were surely coming off as rude, you really should–

“This one's Geto Suguru,” Gojo introduced the noiret by his side, nipping your overthinking at the bud.

At last, your full attention was guided to him.

Oh.

Oh. That was a mistake.

CW: No y/n | polyamory | slow burn | slice of life | alt au - no curses | fluff | light angst | eventual smut | forgive me, there's internal monologues | I like using big words... | Gojo & Geto are whipped for you | emotionally constipated reader | (most of the tags have been condensed, you can find the full list on my ao3 here)

AN: there's a couple mentions of emotional eating (in thoughts). Degrading words towards self (slut, whore, etc) but not self-degrading. I think that's it? Lemme know if I missed something, it's 5:50 am at time of posting and I am eepy, so I'm sorry if I did ♥

Ch: Prologue | Ch: 1 | Ch: 2 | Ch: 3 | Ch: 4 | Ch: 5 - 1 | Ch: 5 - 2

WC: 12.9k

The scent of something marvelously delicious wafting through the air had you groggily rolling over from your stomach to your back in bed, stretching your arms above you and practically vibrating the way a cat would as you eased away any sleep-induced tension from your muscles.

You honestly hadn’t slept that well in a long while. You were bleary-eyed, sure, but refreshed. You didn’t have any heavy bags under your eyes, you didn’t experience any nightmares of being hunted. Just calm, good, dreamless sleep.

As much as you wanted to laze around in bed all day, though, the watering of your mouth couldn’t go ignored. Or the rumble in your stomach, for that matter.

With a sleepy groan and big, feline-like yawn to match your stretch, you shuffled out of bed and rubbed the crusties from your eyes as you pulled on some comfortable clothes. Hell if you knew what you were going to do for the day, you could figure that out after you sated your appetite.

You were downright drooling when you left your room to do your morning routine and groused like a toddler that didn’t want to brush her teeth before devouring her weight in breakfast. But you were a grown ass woman that quite preferred to have good hygiene, thank you very much. The intoxicating call of sustenance would have to wait until after you scrubbed your face and polished your teeth to perfection.

Catching sight of yourself in the mirror made you choke when you saw how chaotic the nest of hair on your head was. You felt like a cartoon character that got zapped, your tresses sticking in every direction. 

You must have slept really well, then.

You combed your fingers through the messy strands, trying to smooth the misbehaving locks. It took some effort to tame them into a somewhat presentable fashion, which was the most you cared to do when you were dying to eat already.

Your eyes flickered towards the remaining bottles you left on the sink countertop from last night and you nearly lost your shit.

Just what did Satoru put Ijichi through to get you high end skin products like these? And in such a short amount of time? You guessed the poor man broke a few speeding laws to get these in time for you to use. That, or maybe Satoru had informed him earlier, when you initially agreed to take him up on his offer to stay at his place. Or he already had them and was keeping them around for this kind of situation? Did he use the same brand?

Well, whatever. You were going to use those zealously, so help you god.

And, by the heavens above and seas below, they were fucking incredible. Your face was baby-skin soft. Lustrous, dewy, you were glowing, and certainly felt like it, too. You couldn’t stop touching your cheeks and forehead, they were just so smooth. 

No wonder rich people always had the clearest skin. If you had these while growing up, you never would have had to deal with getting acne in your teens and into your adulthood.

So fucking unfair.

Lamenting how Satoru was born with a silver spoon in his mouth while you were robbed by the universe, you followed the delectable wisps of the tasty aroma in the air like a drunk cupid with tiny wings and a dazed veneer on your face. There you found the man himself in the kitchen, humming an unfamiliar song to himself.

You continued to be baffled that he knew how to cook. It seemed almost unnatural, in a way. He was the prime example of a rich boy that you could find reclining on a poolside chair, hands behind his head as a servant hand fed him grapes. Yet here he was, cooking away, an apron tied around his neck and waist (with frills and little hearts, too, the flashy ass). You wouldn’t be surprised if it had ‘Kiss the Chef’ written across the front and oh, would you look at that, you were right.

“Goooood morning!” Satoru exclaimed, turning away from the stove to greet you. The apron was even flashier than you thought. For fuck’s sake, it had sequins on it. “How’d you– whoa. Nevermind, your hair answers that question.”

You subconsciously tried to flatten down your frizzy tangles once more, grumbling and pulling your gaze away from the atrocious fabric covering his chest that you would totally wear as well, gods, it was horrific. Your morning hair never liked to cooperate with you. “Morning.”

Yawning against the back of your hand, you climbed onto one of the barstools at the kitchen island and veered your body to the side, trying to see what he was cooking around his arm. It smelled sweet, the kind of sweet that was almost enough to make you nauseous, but wouldn’t actually cross that line. Kind of like dessert after you’ve filled yourself to bursting with dinner.

“What are you making? It smells really good,” you said.

“Pancakes!” He exclaimed, sliding an already finished plate to you, soufflé pancakes stacked high atop, drizzled in chocolate and syrup. He even added fruit slices in an arch around the back, just to make it extra fancy.

Someone had a sweet tooth, it seemed. That, and it was obvious he was trying to show off his culinary skills, having the perfect reason to do so now.

But who were you to point that out? You were getting free food, and not even for the first time! Of course you were going to stuff yourself sick with these. Because, honestly, they did look incredible. You would have felt bad about devouring such art if your stomach wasn’t going nuts. 

“Wow, these smell amazing,” you said, scooping up a bite with the fork he passed you. You admired it, tilting it a few degrees in the light, then chomped down on it. 

The noise you made was downright unholy. Straight to the Second Circle with you, don’t even think about looking at the pearly gates of Heaven.

“Fuuuuck,” you keened as you immediately shoved another piece into your mouth. You savored the delectable meal with chubby cheeks, letting the sugary and fluffy delight overtake your senses. “This is so fuckin’ good.”

He cackled at your reaction as he finished cooking and styling up his own plate, ditching the eye-bleedingly ugly apron, and you realized a trice too late that you just stroked his ego considerably. “I didn’t know you could make those kinds of sounds,” he quipped. The sunlight pouring through a nearby window caught the lenses of his glasses when he slid into the seat beside you, making them glint the same way his eyes would if you could see them unobstructed. “Makes me wonder what other noises you can make.”

You almost choked on the pancake you were greedily wolfing down.

Okay, he was not allowed to say things like that while you were eating. And especially not in that voice, the one that lowered a couple octaves and had you squirming in your seat. Barely 10 minutes into the morning and you were already struggling to keep your composure around him.

You swallowed down your food stiffly and patted your sternum with a wee cough. “You’re going to be the death of me.”

“I’m not opposed to that.”

“You promised you’d let me use your hot spring first.”

“I can be patient!” Exclaimed the man who very much could not be patient.

You deadpanned, but your lips quivered as you tried to restrain a grin. “Somehow, I doubt that.”

He moped like he was told he couldn’t go to the park today. “You’re so mean to me. How could you? And right after I graciously agreed to house you, too.” Wow, he wasn’t kidding about not letting you live that down.

To make up for it and bring the whiny baby back into a good mood, you let him have a few bites of your food, and he lit up like a damn firework, scarfing them down without a second thought. He had this sort of boyish charm that was difficult to resist in a way that made you want to tease and taunt him endlessly. His statuesque features certainly aided his charisma. 

“By the way,” Gojo began, speaking around a piece of syrup-covered strawberry from his own dish. “There’s someone I want to introduce to you later. You’ll like him.”

You gave him a sidelong glance. Was this the second ‘someone’ Granny mentioned the day before? You shuddered at the thought of dealing with two Satoru’s. You barely knew the first one, and he was already a handful and a menace. You chewed quickly and swallowed to answer.

“Is he anything like you?” You asked, doing your best to be ladylike and eat the way a normal person would. You weren’t really succeeding.

He grinned wide. “He’s the best! Second to me, of course.”

“That does not answer my question,” you pointed an accusatory fork at him.

“Pshh, don’t worry. He’s cool. Well, not as cool as me, but very close.”

That still didn’t answer your question. More so, it put you on edge. You were already mentally preparing to get acquainted with this potential twin, doppelgänger, and/or clone.

“Can you at least tell me his name?”

“Geto Suguru,” he responded.

Geto Suguru, huh?

Same initials as Gojo Satoru. Same amount of syllables, too.

You were so fucked, weren’t you? 

The thought of having two copies of the gremlin beside you had you preemptively putting your hands on your nape to ease the tension. Figuratively, but possibly literally, depending on if height was something they shared.

“Alright,” you said. “When do you want me to meet him?”

“Oh, the time will come, you shouldn’t worry your pretty little head.”

Well, if that wasn’t the most cryptic shit that definitely had you worrying your pretty little head. Asshole, he was doing that on purpose, confirmed by that cunning expression he had as he observed you with his temple resting on his fist, elbow on the counter. He liked toying with you.

You narrowed your eyes at him. “Don’t look at me like that.”

He raised his brows. “Like what?”

“Like you’re planning some shit.”

Satoru pressed his fingers to his chest, feigning innocence. “Why, I’d never!”

He was absolutely planning some shit. All you could really do now was brace yourself for whatever was to come, though you were certain that no amount of readying yourself would keep you from getting swept off your feet. “I’ve got my eye on you.”

That was the wrong thing to say, considering he fucking swooned and tipped over, resting his head on your shoulder and closing his eyes, sighing like a schoolgirl. “I knew you thought I was handsome.”

You gave a long-suffering exhale and poked his cheek. “I said no such thing.”

“Yeah, but you looked it.”

“The hell does that even mean?”

“Just keep your eyes on me, pretty baby,” he directed and sat back up, reaching for his fork. “What’s on the agenda for you today?” He asked as he scooped up the rest of the syrup on his plate with the last bite of his food.

You coughed to cover your blush, grateful for the topic change. “Well, I guess take stock of all I’ll need to do with my house. I got a job at Granny’s store, so I’ll start working there in a few days.”

“Shit, really?” He gaped at you. “That fast?”

You nodded around your final piece of pancake, closing your eyes to savor the sublime flavor. You’d have to make him teach you to cook like that sometime, too.

A ‘whooh’ sound left him. “Impressive.”

“It’s weird,” you said. “Everything’s worked out so far, and I’ve barely been here for two and a half days. I’m getting suspicious.”

“Why?”

Your shoulders lifted and dropped. “Seems too good to be true. Gotta stay on my toes, y’know?”

Satoru ruffled your hair as he stood to stack your empty plates into the dishwasher. “You think too much, sweetheart.”

You crossed your arms over your chest. “Let me be paranoid.”

“You’ll just give yourself worry lines like that,” he cautioned, returning to press his index finger between your brows, “riiiight here. You gotta relax, princess. Chill out, do something fun.”

It was hard to, after spending so many years escaping metaphorical ghosts. Old habits die hard, you supposed.

He was right, you could really use a break from non-stop wariness. This was supposed to be a fresh start, after all. You washed your slate, unmarked of everything on purpose, keeping next to nothing but your name and the clothes on your back. No contacts, nobody waiting for you somewhere, no responsibilities or obligations holding you back. Who knew how long you’d get the chance to let go like this? Might as well take advantage of it.

You weren’t sure what would qualify as ‘fun’ here, but you were a new sprout, after all. What better way than to learn firsthand?

“Alright,” you agreed. “Recommend anything?”

“Hmm,” he lolled his head side to side. “Go to the bakery. It’s not far from Granny’s store, a couple streets north. Hard to miss, it’s got a big sign. We saw it on the way to Granny’s yesterday.”

You scratched through your memory, trying to remember exactly where it was. You had a fuzzy idea, but the benefit of living in such a small locale was that it wouldn’t be too difficult to find. “Will do, thanks. I’ll go after I check out my place first. I’ll need the emotional support after that.”

“Fair enough, I saw why,” he chortled. Oh, the exterior was nothing compared to the interior, sweet summer child. “You want a ride there?”

You considered it, then shook your head. “Nah, it’d be better for me to walk there to get more familiar with the town.”

“You sure?” He raised a brow, a teasing, lazy smirk crawling up his lips. “Won’t get lost?”

“Probably,” you snorted, “but experience is the best teacher, eh?”

He chuckled low in his throat. “If you do get lost, don’t be afraid to call me. I’ll be your prince in shining armor.” 

You made a ‘pffft’ noise and glared at him. He just smiled back like the dork he was. “It’s knight in shining armor.”

“Prince is better. I’m not some lowly knight.”

Drama queen. “Alright, whatever you say, prince. I’ll see you–” In the midst of slipping off the stool to get ready to leave, you stopped, remembering a key piece of information. “Hey,” you spoke up, rotating to scrutinize him with a squint. “How did you know my back door doesn’t have a lock?”

He shrugged nonchalantly. “My friends and I would go there on dares when we were younger. Believed it was haunted, dumb kid shit, you know how it goes.”

Oh.

That– yeah, that sounded way more plausible and understandable than whatever ghost stories about kidnappers and serial killers you came up with. But he still could have phrased it better than he did, he didn’t have to go creepy-mode to convince you to stay with him for the time being.

“Why?” He chortled. “Thought I was gonna kidnap ya?”

“Yes,” you replied automatically, scratching the spot behind your ear sheepishly. “Sorry about that.”

He snickered at your expense, bending down and lowering his voice into a rumbling murmur. “You never know. Maybe I will.”

“Har har,” you replied flatly. “Very funny.”

His lips curled further, eyes gleaming behind his shades. “Better keep your guard up, princess. Someone might just come and snatch you up when you least expect it.”

You scoffed as you swiveled and headed towards the front door. Satoru followed you in a way that reminded you of a puppy, or a mischievous cat, observing you as you tugged on your shoes. “I’m sure I’ll be fine. I can scream really loud.”

“And if they cover your mouth?”

“I bite,” you grinned toothily.

He crooned. “I’ll keep that in mind. You sure you don’t need a ride?”

“I’ll be fine,” you dismissed his uncertainty and double checked your purse as you put it on. “I’ll catch you later.”

“Ah, wait, before you go,” he halted you, reaching out to search through a bowl on the console table pushed up to the wall. After a second or two of digging around, he pulled out a key attached to a ring and held it out to you. “Here, in case nobody’s home when you get back.”

You took it from him and turned it over in your palm, evaluating its untarnished sheen. “Thanks,” you tucked it away safely into a pocket in your purse. “Is it new?”

“Just a spare,” he stuffed his hands into his pockets. “Put it to good use, yeah?”

“Sure,” you agreed.

He patted your head and you scowled at him. “I’ll be awaiting your call for when you need to be rescued.”

You stuck your tongue out at him as you opened the door and stepped out of it. “Dream on.”

His rolling laughter was the last thing you heard as you closed it behind you. The purity of the air awed you again. It was like a medium between you and nature, tickling every one of your senses. There was this certain liberating power in this valley, one that swelled behind your heart and spread out like hot tea on a cold winter morning.

It swirled in your stomach and radiated from your chest in time with your pulse, lulling and salving. Why had you never considered going to the countryside before? 

You were a city-hopper, bouncing from metropolitan hellscape to metropolitan hellscape, where the streets of downtown reeked of anything sickly, apartments were expensive to rent, and you only ever felt like a side character.

Restaurants there were always jam-packed, cafés were less of early day respites and more places of palpable depression. The bars were grimy and boozy, ear-piercingly loud and sweltering with the body heat of dozens of people pressed too tightly together, but at least they were good for one thing.

They were good for shutting down your brain. When it got too loud and too full, when the alcohol burned too much and the people were too touchy, that was when you went into autopilot and thrived in the bliss of silence created by the endless droning of the bass vibrating from your feet to your scalp. You hated liquor, just the thought of it made you queasy, but you craved the buzz it gave you back then.

You didn’t have that luxury now, but you didn’t need it. You hadn’t so much as thought about partaking in that vice since moving, actually. Had you known about the kind of life you could find here, you would have ditched the neon streets a long time ago.

The placidity of mostly untouched vegetation and of the tightly knit community provided a different kind of solace, one that distracted you with things far more interesting than paranoia and anxiety-driven overthinking.

You didn’t feel lost here. Not in the metaphorical sense. Literally had yet to be seen. It remained unfamiliar, but your panic had smoothed out from the first steps you had taken off the train. You could breathe without feeling like there were matches being held too close to your lungs, or needles aimed at your heart.

You didn’t hold onto hope, though. The pattern remained the same. Once you got used to this place, you’d hop on the next train and be on your less-than-merry way.

Will I ever stop running? You asked yourself frequently.

Nobody ever answered.

That’s alright. For now, you were okay. 

Choosing not to indulge in those ideologies, you followed the curving road back down the incline, noting that the car Ijichi had brought you in was gone. You’d need to find a way to thank him, as well as Granny. You didn’t like being indebted to people, especially if it put you at risk of getting tied down.

Satoru was a different problem entirely, since he was letting you live with him. Chores, rent, maybe another thing or two to keep the score level. You weren’t great on brainstorming ideas on how to return favors, but you’d figure it out. A good walk always helped make the creative juices flow.

You ruminated on who he wanted to introduce you to later, coming up with ideas about what he might be like. Hopefully a counterpart and not a duplicate, you weren’t sure how much you’d be able to handle if that was the case. 

If he was friends with Satoru, though, the likelihood of him driving you insane in one way or another was highly likely.

“I bet he’s disgustingly handsome, too,” you muttered cattily under your breath. “I’m gonna see him and the last brain cells I have are gonna explode.”

It didn’t help that you had no idea when you were going to meet this ‘Geto Suguru’. Would you have time to anchor yourself mentally? Would it be today, or a week from now? Could you even prepare at all?

Ugh.

Satoru was right, you thought too much.

As you roamed around, the shrine caught your eye once more, and you stopped to take it in. You hadn’t been to a shrine before – not this kind, anyway. The bigger ones in Tokyo didn’t count. You vaguely remembered how to pray, though you weren’t sure if you should. Paying respects, though, that was fine.

You nibbled on your bottom lip, debating. In the end, it wasn’t a hard choice. You would take any chance to procrastinate and delay facing the disaster awaiting you as much as you could. Except for the bakery Satoru recommended, you were saving that for after you made a plan for your house. You figured you’d want to stress eat afterwards to balm your troubled heart.

Besides, you weren’t sure if you’d have the time to visit after you got started on everything. You had a few days to use up, why not use them to check things out?

The trail leading up to it was easy to find, and though clearly well-traveled and requiring some exertion to traverse, it was clear that it was loved. The flowers on either side of the path were tended to with a compassionate hand, blooming and fragrant. You took a break on several occasions just to sniff a few, admiring them. 

Usually, you were picky about flowers. 

Most were less redolent and more bitterly pungent for you, such as roses. They were elegant, no doubt, but their scent always bordered on perfume-y in a way that reminded you more of an old folks’ home rather than pleasant and subtle beauty. Generally, florid notes made your face scrunch up like you ate something unexpectedly sour.

These flowers were just right, though. They still had those floral undertones, of course, but presented salubrious and fruity essences atop it. It made you mull over why every other flower you smelled before wasn’t palatable. 

Soon, the shrine entrance was in clear view. You traced your finger along the edge of a petal one last time before standing up from your squatting position and making your way over to it. The tower itself was mostly vertical in terms of size, decently small in contrast to the typically larger ones scattered about Japan, but it fit in perfectly with everything else here.

There were two stone benches on either side of the archway leading in, pressed up to the sturdy cobblestone foundation, and lanterns situated at the corners of both, reminding you of a few animated movies with similar designs you’d seen in the past. They were slightly shaded, turned a few degrees away from the sun, and you imagined it would be nice to read there and watch the sun fall asleep beyond the horizon.

The doors were open, guarded by dog-like statues, a bit crudely carved out. Satoru had mentioned it was a shrine dedicated to the wolves that used to roam the mountains, so the statues were likely meant to resemble them. You were curious about the interior, wanting to see the altar up close, since each place of prayer had their own uniquely made one, but the sight of a person clad in white and red kneeling in front of said altar within had you nixing that idea. You could do it another time.

She must have noticed your approach as her head lifted and she peeked partially over her shoulder. She rose up and rotated to face you, and you withheld your exasperation.

Right, this was just fucking ridiculous now, what the fuck.

Why was there another criminally attractive person in this godsforsaken valley? You got scammed, you wanted your money back. Everyone here was so out of your league, you felt like the dog that caught the baseball bat after it’s thrown rather than a player in the game. What, was there going to be an additional good-looking person, ready to knock the wind out of you?

Probably Geto.

If any of these people told you to get down on your knees and bark, you would have without question.

Seriously, why?

You should have been relishing existing in the presence of so many charming folks, but in reality, it just made you feel self conscious.

“Hello,” she greeted as she walked over to you, bringing you out of your internal raging monologue. “May I help you?”

“Oh,” you fluttered your lashes and stammered minutely, trying to recollect yourself. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to distract you. I just wanted to see the shrine.”

The shrine maiden’s lips tilted up politely. “You’re fine, don’t worry. Are you a tourist?”

“No,” you fidgeted with your thumb and index finger on your right hand. “I moved here recently. I’m checking around to get more acquainted with the area.”

Her brows rose a millimeter short of being comical. “Really? That’s surprising. Did one of the villagers leave that I didn’t know of?”

“Also no. I bought the house on the outskirts, uhh,” you twisted to scan behind you and pointed in the general direction of it. “That way.”

“That house? I thought they’d torn it down a long time ago. Why that one?”

You lowered your arm. “It was cheap. Gave me an excuse to move here properly.”

“I hope you’re not staying there, it’s dangerous,” she frowned, using a stern yet caring voice.

“I’m staying with Gojo Satoru while I fix it up.”

Immediately, the woman’s face twisted into a sneer of repulsion. Scorn shadowed over her honey-brown eyes, causing yours to widen as hers narrowed. “Run away while you still can,” she told you firmly. 

Well, that’s not worrisome at all.

What the hell did he do to her?

“What? Why?” Your brows furrowed.

She sighed as if the mere mention of Gojo had stripped a few years off her lifespan. “He’s the devil in disguise.”

Was anyone ever going to give you a straight answer about him? “Did he…do something?”

Her scorn turned to ire and agitation in a snap. “He’s so obnoxious! And arrogant, I can’t stand to be around him, he pisses me off to no end,” she downright snarled, heat rising to her cheeks from her anger. “He acts all high and mighty when he’s just a spoiled brat that refuses to respect his elders!”

“Oh–”

“Me!” She pointed harshly at herself. “I’m his elder! Well, I mean, not the only one, but still! He was raised like a golden child, given everything he wanted. He loooves getting on everyone’s nerves, especially mine. Get away from him or he’ll send you to an early grave, miss.”

You didn’t know what you were expecting when you came to view the shrine, but a rant from a peeved miko definitely wasn’t anywhere on your list of possibilities. His name alone sent her into a tailspin, and you would have regretted it if seeing her go off about the man wasn’t more entertaining than it had any right to be. You did feel bad, but madly interested, too.

“I…see,” you reacted stiltedly, stifling a laugh. “Are you, like, exes or something?”

She gaped at you as if you had informed her of her puppy’s passing. “What? No! Absolutely not! I– how could– never even mention–” She abruptly stopped herself, took a few intensely deep breaths to calm herself, then she was smiling kindly again as if nothing had happened. “Where are my manners? I’m Iori Utahime, a miko. It’s a pleasure to meet you. And you are?”

Left reeling from her unexpected 180 in demeanor, you stuttered out your own name in response, to which she nodded in approval.

“A lovely name. You said you moved here recently? How fun! What brought you to this valley?”

Satoru had several questions to answer for the next time you saw him. If you had a notepad and pen, you would have been writing them down like a P.I., bobbing your head with a solemn face as you asked Iori to recount her history of events.

“I came to study abroad in Tokyo a few years back, and fell in love with the country,” you said. “I’m not big on cities, though, so coming here seemed perfect.”

Maybe you were embellishing your story a bit, but in all fairness, you didn’t know her. Besides, clean slate; you had no story before this, why not paint one now that you had the freedom to?

You weren’t going to whip up some grand tale about how you were this astonishingly intelligent, leading programmer in your country that did impressive work for science (that was your mother), but it didn’t hurt to fib the truth a small amount. The part about studying abroad was true, anyway.

She appraised you with an interested visage. “I see, I see. Where are you originally from?”

Man, people loved asking that, huh?

It’s not like you could blame them, you’d do the same in their place. You were a foreigner, they were going to treat you like one.

“Ah,” you told her of your place of origin. “It’s nothing special. I mostly traveled.”

“Oh? How did you make money?”

“Freelance,” you answered. “Odd jobs here and there, enough to keep myself afloat. Have you traveled before, Iori-san?” 

You could see the overjoyed spark in her eyes that someone was finally respecting her. “Only within the country,” she responded, somewhat somber. “I’ve always wanted to see what it’s like outside Japan.”

You tilted your head back to see the sky and think of suggestions. What do the stars look like here? “Depends on where you go. Some places are very packed and have lots of things to do no matter where you go, like Europe. Other places are more sparse, like the States.”

“But the States have more people,” the woman pointed out.

“Yeah,” you confirmed, “but that country is massive and people there tend to group into major cities, rather than be spread out. California is technically bigger than the entirety of Japan, but has way less people.”

Her eyes bulged in surprise. “Really?”

“Yep. It’s why you might hear Westerners say ‘there’s nothing to do here’,” you glanced at the structure behind her. “You guys revere wolves here, right?”

Utahime clapped her hands twice eagerly. “That’s correct! How’d you know?”

Based on her reaction to you merely mentioning Satoru, you figured it’d be best if you didn’t tell her the source of your information. “I’ve heard about it. I was curious, I haven’t been to a smaller shrine like this one before. Only the bigger ones in Tokyo, but those were part of my assignments, rather than for leisure.”

“Oh, it’s not much,” she espied at it from over her shoulder, but you could see the pride in her eyes. It was well taken care of, with love and chariness. It easily passed off as something constructed more recently, given its meticulous maintenance.

“How long ago was it built?”

“Around the same time the settlers first came here.”

This time, your eyes were the ones that opened wide. It had to have been at least 350 years old in that case, based on a rough estimate. “That far back? Wow, it’s in seriously good shape.”

The woman puffed up her chest. “Though the wolves have long since died out here, we still honor them. They helped us with hunts and allowed this village to thrive when we needed it most. They protected us from cursed spirits, as well. It’s only right we treat them and the bounties they’ve given us with respect.”

Oh, there was that term again: cursed spirits. “Could you tell me more about cursed spirits?”

Enthusiasm bubbled up in her the way it would in a child about to tell their parents about the story they wrote up. She skipped over to one of the stone benches and plopped down onto it, patting the spot beside her. You slid onto it, a chill shooting up your spine from the cold temperature. Being shaded from the sun made the rock gelid, go figure.

“Now! Let’s start from the beginning as we know it,” she cleared her throat and took on the role of a teacher. “The origin of cursed spirits and jujutsu sorcery as a whole is largely unknown. It’s speculated that spirits have lived alongside humanity from the beginning of it, as cursed energy is formed by negative emotions, and cursed energy is what spirits are born from.”

She was very animated when teaching, you noticed. Lots of hand movements, facial expressions, and a bouncy attitude to boot. It made for a very entertaining show, and did well to keep you engaged.

“Curses were invisible to humans. Only a select few could see them, and even fewer could actively interact with them in some way or another,” she continued. “Smaller curses would typically leech off of people without them knowing it, feeding off their bad emotions. Stronger curses, however, could be incredibly powerful. Sometimes to the point of standard weapons being completely useless against them, which is why jujutsu sorcery came to fruition. We needed some way to fight back against the spirits, so we developed a way to do just that by manipulating the natural reserves of cursed energy we had within us.”

Folklore from other countries always captivated you. From the creator of mankind in some Chinese mythos named Nüwa, to the counterpart of the equivalent of Santa in Germany, the origin of Halloween and turnip lanterns – even the oddly terrifying ones without nefarious intentions, like Mari Lwyd.

You adored hearing about legends, stories, and tales passed down through oral and written history over the centuries of life existing in each respective land. To say she had you hooked would be an understatement.

What were curses like? Assuming they were real, of course, and that jujutsu sorcery didn’t follow the same ideology as hanging witches. Were they ugly? Bipedal? Humanoid at all? 

“Many natural disasters are blamed on curses, even to this day,” she began lifting her fingers as she counted off a few examples. “Earthquakes, tsunamis, droughts. Pretty much anything you can think of.”

“Were they kinda like demons?”

“Eh,” she tilted her hand side to side a few times. “Yes and no. Depends on who you ask, really. They could be different from demons of hell, or they could be one and the same.”

“I see,” you pinched your chin. “So, where’d they go, then?”

She grasped one of her pigtails, running her fingers through the open and loose portion at the top of it. “Nobody really knows. Some think that sorcerers were able to eradicate them at the source, and died off since they weren’t needed anymore. It could be that the curses have simply lost power due to the progression of mankind, and particularly therapy, though it’s…still kind of taboo. Some claim they’re still around, we just don’t notice because we aren’t able to see any of it.”

Satoru’s words on the matter echoed in your mind. ‘Even if they are real, there's no way they'd beat me.’

You bit your cheek to hold back an unwitting snicker. Leave it up to Satoru to say some brazen shit and have it pop up in your head at random.

“What about you? What do you think?” You asked.

Utahime flicked a piece of invisible dirt off the front of her hakama. “I believe they exist. It’s part of why I’m a miko, and one of the reasons I maintain this shrine. It’s my duty. Curses may not be the same now as they were back then, but that’s no reason for me to slack off. Complacency breeds contempt.”

It was heartwarming, in a way, to see someone still holding onto traditions like these, working to keep her friends, family, and home safe, upholding the rules within and outside places of prayer. You admired her for it.

Not that you would personally want to be a shrine maiden, but you held them in high esteem nonetheless.

“And you?” She peered at you. “Do you believe in the supernatural?”

You closed your eyes for a moment, stretching your legs in front of you and idling back on your hands. “I’m agnostic, neither here nor there. I respect spaces that are considered sacred, I’d rather not get hexed, but I don’t go out of my way to hunt down, let’s say, ghosts.”

“I commend you, many could stand to learn a thing or two from you,” as she spoke, she stood up and brushed off the back of her kosode. “You are good company, though I fear I should get back to work soon.”

“Ah,” you got up as well and bowed to her. “Thank you for sharing your stories with me, Iori-san. I’m sorry for disturbing you.”

She waved her hand. “You didn’t, don’t worry. Come visit me again soon, okay? I’d love to hear stories of your travels as well.”

“Sure,” promised easily, more than content to exchange tales with her. “Stay safe.”

“Likewise,” the noirette disappeared back into the shrine with a final word of parting, leaving you to your devices.

While you didn’t get to see the altar inside, you considered the visit worthwhile, and got a new acquaintance out of it, too. You could come back to check it out another day.

Having burned through all the reasonable amount of procrastination time you allowed yourself, you voyaged back down the path, appreciating the blooms the whole way down the same way you had when you went the other way. You had to ask Utahime if she was the one tending to them next time you saw her.

You were proud to say that you only got lost twice. But you did find the bakery on the way, and memorized where it was once you located the path home. Not bad, not bad at all. You managed to find your way around, and you didn’t need to embarrass yourself by calling Satoru to come to your rescue.

It’s sad how low your standards for happiness had fallen, but you’d take any crumb of serotonin you could find.

You noticed the trip to your house was shorter whenever you actively didn’t want to go there, as if it was a living creature that purposefully made you arrive faster, just so you had to give it attention.

It stood, looming, mocking you. Taunting you, the monstrosity. What an asshole.

The outside matters came first, the less time you had to spend inside, the better. You pulled up the notes app on your phone and began the task of drafting everything you needed to deal with, denoting it as the ‘Outdoor’ section in your native tongue.

Fence, you typed down, scribbling sporadic thoughts as you went. Tear down? Repair? Replace?

You checked the ends and noted that the fence only went back about halfway into your property, leaving the back uncovered. Covers only front. Built like that? Collapsed/removed in the back? 

You felt the stalks of yellow-ish green leafage with your palm, the tips reaching your hips. Cut down grass and weeds. You should plant pollinator flowers if the yard was ever cleared out well enough. It’d be nice to have some butterflies and bees around to help everything grow nice and healthy. 

You lightly nudged a piece of a busted plant pot with the toe of your shoe. Dispose of broken pots. A slight stumble had you leering down to see a strangely shaped tile. You tilted your head in confusion, then peered up at the edge of the roof, deducing it was a shingle that had fallen off. You stepped further away from the roof, just in case. And fallen & loose shingles.

Rounding the side, you waded through the overgrown flora, poring over the condition of the rundown house’s environment. Remove ivy from walls. Set up trellises. Lattices to form a backyard/patio/garden/thing?

Angling your chin up, you placed your hand over your forehead and assessed the roof. From on the ground, you wouldn’t be able to completely acknowledge the damage done to it over the years it sat untouched, but you were reluctant to climb on it to see first hand. You didn’t have a ladder, for starters, and you liked having unbroken bones and working shins. 

Get a ladder.

The back of the estate was in the same condition as everything else. Which is to say, disheartening. 

“What’ve I got myself into…” You muttered.

You spotted a narrow garden plot built into the back of the house. Overgrown, yes, but it’d be perfect for planting stuff when you got it all cleared up.

It wasn’t a question of ‘if’, unfortunately. You had no other real choice besides mending what was left in your hands.

You were still miffed at the real estate agent. You likely wouldn’t have purchased this piece of land had you known what was ahead. Or if you were in a better state of mind, honestly, rather than being in the middle of your fight-or-flight phase of living.

“No good dwelling on the past,” you whispered to yourself as you circled back to the front. “Can’t change it now.”

You took a deep, long, full breath, enjoying the fresh and crisp air while you still could. You savored the temperate hints of nature and the clement weather, treating it like it would be your last time experiencing such comfort. You didn’t know if your nostrils (or you) would survive the excursion into hell you were about to go on, so you weren’t risking taking the breeze for granted.

Exhaling all in one big puff, you steeled your shoulders and pushed open your front door, your free hand covering your nose in anticipation. Replace hinges and/or front door.

It managed to punch you in the gut regardless. 

New section in your notes open, you got to work typing. The most obvious issues came first, such as the floors, the peeling walls, and exposed boning and pipes. A lot would possibly need to be replaced, such as the counters in the kitchen, cupboards…

Floor rotted(?) and sticky. Wash?

Spackle for holes in walls? New drywall instead?

Check insulation.

Your spirits fell more and more with each additional item of note you wrote onto the list. Could any of this be salvaged? Were you better off tearing it down?

Remove tatami. Replace? Don’t?

Stepping into what you assumed was the master bedroom, you made your way over to the sleeping bag you left behind and cautiously rolled it up, maneuvering around the grime stuck to it, and placed it against a corner. You’d toss it when you got the chance to.

M-bed closet missing doors and shelf.

Seeing the window, you tip-toed to it, hoping to open it to air out the room. Your nose formed bunny lines at the cobwebs littering the sill and edges. While there weren’t any spiders – as far as you could see – you still did not enjoy touching them in the slightest.

Pushing up from the center of the window proved to be futile, the frame wasn’t going to be budging anytime soon.

Windows stuck.

Remove spider webs.

There was litter here and there – torn pieces of paper, a ripped open baggie, fabric – that you decided to leave as is. Along with not having gloves to pry them off the ground, you didn’t have anything to throw them away into. They got to live another day.

Toss out trash.

The shower and bathroom had a cupboard tucked off to the side, but opening it showed the middle platform separating the top and bottom within was crumbly and would break if you put any weight on it.  Replace shelf in bathroom cupboard.

The tiles were all fucked up, too. Some were chipped, others were outright broken or missing. Rust had gathered around the tap and drain in the tub, likely from years of having a leaky faucet before it ran out of water to drip.

Clean out rust in bath/pipes. Throw away broken floor tiles. Replace.

You pulled the left handle of the sink faucet and waited for a few seconds to see if the plumbing was functional.

Which was a big, fat no.

Plumbing. Faucets.

Limescale on shower head, wall tiles.

You scrolled through what notes you had already created and chewed on the corner of your bottom lip, thinking of what else you might have needed to write down. You fixated blankly on the wall in front of you as you went over everything, then quickly typed out a few more things.

Electricity.

Check for asbestos, lead in paint.

You figured the tasks you needed to do would pop up as you went along, considering your notes to be a simple skeleton outline. You could jot down other things as needed, and work through them one by one.

Having done as much as possible while staying inside for as long as you could tolerate, you walked back outside and dug around in your purse for the piece of paper Granny had given you, the one with names and numbers of people that could help you in this endeavor.

To say you were beginning to panic would be an understatement. You already bought the damn thing, and doubted you’d be able to resell it and get all your money back. You also didn’t want to subject anyone to repairing the thing when it was both a health hazard and an embarrassment. 

You had some reserve money, but it wasn’t a whole lot, so you required that job Granny gave you.

Gojo said you could stay with him for however long you needed, but that was with the expectation that you’d leave once your house was fixed up. Given the village’s size, it was unlikely that you would find another place within it to live in, even after saving up some money working for Granny. You didn’t want to piggy-back off anyone and be an imposition; the only reason you felt less guilty about staying with the moon-haired idiot was due to the sheer amount of space he had in his mansion.

You were swiftly running out of options.

Your lips paled as you pressed them tightly together, trying to wrack your mind for ideas. You couldn’t sell it, and you didn’t want to deal with the humiliation of having strangers work for you. In such a small town, word spread like fire on a dry wick. Who knows what they would say about you?

Realistically, it wasn’t your fault, you knew this. The house hadn’t been built under your name and, hell, was likely older than you by at least a decade or two. It didn’t fall to ruin because of you, but you were the owner of this house now, the responsibility rested on your shoulders.

You read through the list of handymen under your thumb, the paper shaking slightly from the death grip you had on it.

Repairing it on your own was technically an option, but you would be basically begging for severe injuries or even death by attempting that. You wouldn’t even know where to start. Foundation? Floors? Structure? Roof? You didn’t fucking know how to do any of that shit!

…Or you could just burn the damn eyesore to the ground ‘til there was naught but ashes left.

No, that was a stupid idea, but you were out of any good ones.

The thought you had previously of tearing it down and buying a garden shed to reside in was feeling more and more tempting by the hour. It was unreasonable, you knew, you simply…didn’t know what you were supposed to do.

You were used to doing things alone. You relied solely on yourself, trusted only your own words and intentions. Letting people in was not something you did for many reasons. Maybe you did crave closeness and camaraderie at some point in the distant past, but the concept was out of the question entirely now. It made uncomfortable butterflies sit heavy in your stomach, the urge to vanish into the treelines and never be seen again increasing with each extraneous person you invited into your life.

You sighed. “I should have just moved into the woods and turned into a witch,” you grumbled low, then scoffed sardonically. “Right, as if I wouldn’t accidentally poison myself with a weird mushroom on day three and die a horrible, painful, slow death.”

The two lists you had remained in your somewhat reluctant hands. You knew you were way in over your head, and you’d probably unintentionally curse the house sooner than you managed to make a positive change, but…you weren’t used to asking for help. Always the type to manage shit on your own, get things done yourself, be independent. Could you really be faulted for having a hard time reaching out to anyone else?

Especially since you hadn’t even met any of them yet. That would be disconcerting, asking folks you’d never seen – let alone spoken to – before to work for you.

Your phone singed your fingers. You did know someone, and knew that he was just a phone call away, but did you really want to deal with him of all people? He would take this chance to rub it all in your face and then some.

You carefully weighed your choices.

Rebuild the house yourself with no former experience with anything beyond shitty popsicle stick bird huts.

Call someone on the list, explain your situation, and ask for help.

Call the prick.

…By the gods, you really hated making calls to people you didn’t know.

Shamefully carping to yourself, you dialed Satoru’s number, trying to ignore the contact name he had set up for himself. It was so glitzy, the ✨❤️ Satoru ❤️✨ sitting at the top of the call screen making you stifle a short laugh, ironically lifting your spirits. “Here goes nothing…”

He answered within three rings. “Yo, been a while, princess” Satoru purred as if you hadn’t seen him that morning, and you rolled your eyes, despite not being there in person for him to see.

“You greet every girl like that?”

“Nope, just you,” you could hear his grin. “Whatcha need?”

Now came the part where you set aside your pride and voiced what you very much did not want to. Again. You’d known this man for barely 24 hours and he already had several wins over you. In…whatever game you decided you were losing. “Look, I…I need your help.”

“Oho? What’s this? Is the princess finally admitting how much she misses me?” 

Smug dick.

“I did not say that,” you immediately berated him.

He simply hummed, unaffected. “Same thing.”

You ran your hand down your face, already exasperated just 30 seconds into the call. “You– ugh, just, can you help me or not?”

“Depends on what you need, sugar plum. Did ya get lost already?”

This man was going to be the cause of your madness. The bridge of your nose ached where you pinched it. “Granny gave me a list of people to call to help me with my house and I really don’t want to call any of them.”

“Then don’t.” 

“And, what, do everything by myself?”

You could envision him shrugging. “Why not? I could help you.”

“Satoru, I trust a wild forest fire more than I trust you with a hammer.”

“Ouch,” he sucked air through his teeth, faux whimpering. “You’re such a bully. Fine, I’ll help you with contacting everyone.”

Oh, that took less fighting and groveling than you expected. You exhaled in relief. “Thank you–”

“On,” he interrupted you, “one condition.”

There it is.

Your skin began to sting as you dug your nails harder into it, leaving curved indents between your eyes. “Y’know what, I think I’ll be fine–”

“Ah-ah-ah, hang on a second there, pretty girl. Hear me out.”

Conceding, you sighed and urged him to make his request. “Fine, what is it?”

"Cook something for me,” he requested. “Consider it evening the score.”

Your face scrunched up into a question mark. “Wait, that’s it?

“What, do you want it to be more?”

“No, no, I can do that,” you quickly declined, biting on the edge of your thumbnail as you tried to think of something to prepare for him. “Do you have any preferences?”

“Sweets.”

Sweet stuff. Okay, you could work with that. You could bake some pretty killer macarons. You didn't know what ingredients he had at home, or how to operate his oven, but you'd just figure it out, right?

“Alright, I can do that,” you answered.

“We have a deal, then?”

You took a moment to consider. You could back out, but your introverted personality made that notion null. It was only baking, too, rather than the ghastly demand you were expecting him to make. Baking it is. “Deal.”

“Great! We’ll be over in a flash!~”

“Okay–” wait. “‘We’–?”

He hung up before you could ask. You groaned and contemplated smashing your phone against the ground, but decided against it. You needed the thing, unfortunately.

Since you had to wait for however long, you chose to add in some thoughts to what you’d already written down, brainstorming how you wanted to proceed. It was difficult to tell at this stage, before you started on anything. But you could pick out what you might want to plant; flowers, vegetables, a fruit tree or two. So what if you were fantasizing? It helped keep you calm. Escapism was a valid coping mechanism.

It was too hard to picture anything given the state of the house, though. You’d need to snip down the field first and go from there, when you could see everything clearly.

How much did contractor services cost in Japan? What about the people Granny knew, how much did they charge? What kind of services did they provide? Your toe tapped repeatedly as you stepped outside your fence, trying not to pace.

Would you need one, or multiple? Were you going to have to get materials from the nearby city by yourself, or would they do that? If the former, how?

“I need an adult,” you lamented, your shoulders slouching and arms folding over your chest. “I wanna die. I’m not mature enough for this shit.”

You recalled what your mother told you often when you were younger: ‘not everything at once.’

Easier said than done. Sleep on it, one step at a time, break it down into shorter tasks, nothing was taking the edge off your stress.

“I’ll just start with the grass,” you muttered, eventually succumbing to the need to pace. “I have to start somewhere, and I’ll need to get rid of that before anything else can be done. Oh, but, fuck, there’s so much of it…not to mention debris, rocks…do they still make scythes? Can’t launch a pebble with a scythe. No, wait, that’d be so much more effort and take more time…”

A flicker of alabaster down the road caught your eye, halting your hurried back-and-forth roving and hushed bleating.

Satoru was always easy to spot from a distance. It was hard not to see him when his hair redirected the sun like a mirror, blinding anyone who saw him from the wrong angle. He was the angel on your shoulder with the personality of the devil, urging you to dive into your most heinous and blasphemous thoughts. The light bouncing off his head created a glowing aura around it, resembling a silver halo, further pushing that deceptive angel motif.

Would the halo turn gold in the light of the crimson rays of fading day?

You uncrossed your arms, ready to greet him, only to notice the man beside him. They were conversing, and the latter must have said something funny, as the former guffawed hysterically. It echoed off the mountains on either side of the valley, reaching you with no concern for distance. 

Did such bellows reach across the entire settlement, or was it localized, feeling louder than it actually was due to an echo chamber effect?

Gojo’s cachinnation dissipated when the pair were close enough to you, at which point he waved his hand high in the air to greet you avidly, like you weren’t only 20 feet from them.

“Hey! Didn’t keep ya waitin’ too long, did we?”

Truthfully, the fifteen or so minutes you had been waiting for them had gone by in a flash when you were so deeply buried in your spiraling thoughts while remembering dumb shit sprinkled into your internal ranting. The only evidence of your anticipation for their arrival being the barely present ache in your heels from where you rested most of your weight on them.

“No, not long,” you assured, fighting hard to keep your eyes off his friend for however long possible, vainfully clinging to your sanity. You knew that as soon as you centered your vision on him, your ability for conscious thought would evaporate. 

You wanted to present yourself as at least marginally normal as a first impression, though you doubted you were achieving that by avoiding the obvious third presence. You were surely coming off as rude, you really should–

“This one's Geto Suguru,” Gojo introduced the noiret by his side, nipping your overthinking at the bud.

At last, your full attention was guided to him.

Oh.

Oh. That was a mistake.

‘This one’ was breathtaking.

His midnight hair caught the sunlight in a scintillating iridescence that shifted between the deepest phthalo blue you’d ever seen and a mesmerizing sheen of violet when the light caught it just right, like the feathers of a raven. It struck you how glossy and luxuriously silky it was, and you wanted to pull it out of the high bun he kept it in to run your fingers through it endlessly. That one loose section of his bangs that hovered over his eye was just so cute, your digits itched to tug on it.

And, speaking of, those eyes. 

Sharp enough to cut diamonds and make you stand straighter. Heat rose to your cheeks as he observed you, head cocked to the side with a smooth and sweet smile that absolutely melted your insides like soft-serve ice cream, lily-livered and defenseless against the blazing sun incarnate in the form of a man.

They were dark, yet warm; a rich chocolate in hue that you could swear had flecks of gold within and rings of wisteria coiling around his abyssal pupils.

He was tall and foreboding, just like Satoru, but in a completely different fashion. He was the radiant Sol, pacifying and precious heat licking at your skin, soothing away the frostbite of winters long past. 

Beside him stood the Moon, reflective and brilliant and so goddamn cocky that it made your cheeks hurt – whether from biting the insides of them to hide back a smile, or to prevent yourself from smacking that shameless attitude out of him, you didn’t know. It didn’t matter. 

Satoru’s pearly locks contrasted sharply with Suguru’s obsidian lace, providing a striking visual. These godly beings towered over you, imposing and otherworldly and too good to be true, yet you knew your imagination could never come up with men like them.

And you?

You poor, dear, sweet, dumb little lamb. A pathetic speck caught in the gravity they created. Two black holes, eager to suck you in and rip you to shreds, and you were tempted to let them, practically falling into them without their overwhelming influence affecting you.

Their presence, their power, their very existence that demanded you drop to your knees to worship and beg like the tragic whore you were dominated your consciousness, filling it with fantasies you hadn’t experienced in…gods, ever. Nobody exuded the same aura they did, nobody made you weak-kneed and left you aching between your thighs, not like this. They created a desire in you that you wanted to have fulfilled – needed, even.

The pop of your knuckle in your fist that you had subconsciously created managed to snap you from your revere and back into the present, reminding you that, perhaps, you should do something, rather than drool like an idiot. 

You’ve gone fucking crazy. That was it, the last straw, the last hauntingly magnificent person. Why, oh, why did you move here?

With no small amount of embarrassment at the realization that your panties were a bit more damp than they were a minute ago, you clenched your jaw hard enough to anchor yourself, and made a mental note to get rid of the problem between your legs as soon as you were alone and could succumb to the pleasure, the yearning, you hadn’t experienced in ages.

As well as pretend it wasn’t caused by them, the iconic duo that had you in a mental fit.

Hoping you hadn’t made a total fool of yourself, you turned and bowed respectfully, saying your name in return as you stared at the ground in an attempt to clear your mind of the filth it created on its own, unprompted. “It's a pleasure to meet you, Geto-san.”

Suguru studied you for a few seconds (don’t look at me like that, please, I’m begging you, spare me), then faced the male beside him with an amused expression. “Are you sure this is the same girl you were telling me about? The brat?”

Oh, heavens, that voice.

Fire exploded across your cheeks and pooled deep in the lower pits of your stomach when you heard him say that word; enunciate it clearly, croon it in that damned tone that had electricity jolting up your spine.

Not now, slut. Focus.

It was significantly easier to ignore the unholy fantasies plaguing your sanity when you centered all that pent up energy into being annoyed at Satoru, questioning your already questionable friendship when you learned of what he called you in private. Your eyes narrowed into an icy glare, primed and deadly. To your agitation and further chagrin, he only smirked boyishly at you.

“That’s the one,” he replied with a widening grin as he tucked his hands into the pockets of his pants.

“She's far too polite,” Geto countered.

Satoru snorted. “Trust me, she's a spitfire.”

“Is that so…” The onyx-haired man bent down to come closer to your face, and your breath hitched in your throat, refusing to come out properly. His scent embraced you. Mild, pleasant, like warm chai and jasmine, making your muscles instinctively loosen.

His eyes softened into closed curves as he beamed at you. You really hoped he couldn't read your mind. There was nothing holy or sane in there.

“Your name is lovely as is,” he murmured as his voice lowered into a roguish octave, “but I think I have a better one in mind.”

“W-What?” Your own vocal cords strained just to get the one word out in a wimpy squeak, and of course you just had to stutter. Whereas the air Satoru emitted naturally made you want to tackle him to the ground, Suguru’s wrapped around you like wisps of incense smoke, soothing and gently demanding your obsession with its fragrance. It inexplicably made you want to thaw into a puddle, to give him your full and undivided focus.

His canines peeked through from the way his lips curled further, entertained by your sudden timidness. He remained quiet, merely viewing your reactions as he lifted a hand to loop a strand of your hair around his finger and by the gods, don’t look at his fingers and how long and big they are and how perfect they’d feel–

“Angel,” the man said, practically cooing it at you.

You stifled a croak, verbally cuffed out of your totally, positively, very wholesome thoughts. “What?”

If you could die from embarrassment and be let out of this hell hole, you’d keel over on the spot when he simpered. “Angel,” he so graciously repeated for you. “I believe it suits you quite well. Wouldn’t you say so, Satoru?”

Satoru was having the time of his life, you were sure of it. You could feel him staring into you, see that stupid sexy fucking smile on his face from the corner of your eye as he teased you and, shit, why were you in the middle of this? Had you committed some heinous sin? Was this your punishment? 

“I don’t know,” he hummed in deliberation. “I prefer bunny. Or mochi.” 

“Mochi?” You and Suguru questioned at the same time, swiveling to regard the alabaster man.

Gojo nodded. “Small, probably tastes sweet, squishy.”

“Squishy?” You gaped incredulously, relocating your befuddled scrutiny to Geto when he burst out into laughter.

“I can see it,” Suguru coincided, earning himself a pretty nasty glare, too.

You groaned and tilted your face up, pleading with the sky to give you strength. “Don’t you start, too. One Satoru is enough, thanks.”

He hummed and smirked, something mischievous twinkling in his eyes. You didn't like that countenance. Not one bit. “Well, it’s a pleasure to meet you, too,” he bowed his head towards you, changing the subject. Thank fuck. “You moved here recently, yes?”

“Yeah,” you affirmed, molling the racing of your heart that was just a few beats short of being uncomfortable. “Technically the night before yesterday.”

“You had a safe trip, then, I hope?”

You sent the stone stepping path partially hidden by the overgrown grass a particularly scathing grimace. “I almost ate shit and died on my own porch, but I did, yes.”

His husky laugh was messing up your insides. “Glad you’re in one piece. It was the stepping stones, wasn’t it?”

“Yes, oh, my god. They’re out to kill me, I swear.”

“They’ve gotten me a couple times, too. It’s good to see this house will finally be getting some love.”

“I think you’re the only person that’s been positive about this so far,” you scratched your cheek with your index finger. “Everyone else has told me it’s grossly dangerous. Wish I’d known that before I skimped out on finding a place to stay for the first night…”

Suguru’s browline furrowed in disquietude. “You slept in there?”

You exhaled harshly and hung your head. “Don’t remind me.”

“You aren’t feeling sick, are you?”

You shook your head and patted his arm reassuringly. “No, just humiliated.”

His expression relaxed, the hardness in his deep maroon eyes tempering. “That’s good. If you do feel ill, don’t brush it off. Excess activity can worsen your health and prolong sicknesses.”

Aww, a mother hen? He was in your good books now, you felt all fluffy, being cared for by him. “I’ll keep that in mind, thank you.”

Satoru pushed his way between you two, resting one arm on Suguru’s shoulder and the other on your head, coveting your attention. “So, what’s the plan, mochi?”

“Good question,” you said.

There was a brief pause, as if you were all waiting for someone else to speak, before he leaned down towards you. “Well?”

“What?”

“The plan? What’s the plan?” He lifted a brow. 

“Oh,” you darted your eyes between them. “Oh, no, I don’t have one. I just said it’s a good question.”

Suguru frowned. “Nothing at all?”

You pulled up your notes app and scrolled through it. “I guess cut the lawn, and call up the folks on Granny’s list for starters.”

“Can I see her list?”

“Mm,” you held out the paper to him, cringing when you saw how your fingers wrinkled the corner of it out of stress.

A crease in his forehead formed, deepening the more names he read, making you nervous. On top of how nervous you were already feeling. You were nervous-squared now.

“What is it?” You asked.

“It’s nothing. Just…I don’t think any of these guys will have enough free time to help you out. Not for a while, anyway,” he returned the sheet to you. “However, I grew up assisting them, so I know a thing or two. Mind if I go inside?”

Well, if that wasn’t soul crushing. “If you have a gas mask, go ahead. The smell inside could knock out a grown man. I don’t want to trouble you, though.”

“It’s no trouble at all. I’ve been needing something to do these days, this could be the perfect excuse for me,” he assured you. “I’ll be quick.”

“Oh– hang on, there might be asbestos in there,” you warned.

“There isn’t,” he assured confidently.

Satoru narrowed his eyes. “How do you know? Huh? Were you there when this house was built? Didn’t think so.”

Suguru leveled him with a vacant lour. “Asbestos wasn’t used in the construction of any houses here. Besides being expensive to import, our village was constructed with traditional methods. This building was Western inspired, but it wasn’t built with Western methods.”

You crossed your arms over your chest, nervously picking at a spot on your forearm. “Who built it?”

“From what I know, it was someone from either Kobe or Osaka that visited a state in America on vacation and fell in love with the architecture. First thing they did when they came back was buy this plot of land and build an imitation house on it,” he answered.

“Why’d they leave?”

He raised a hand, then dropped it in a half-shrug. “Any number of reasons. Some of the older folks say that their spouse fell ill, and they had to return to the city. My mom says they moved out because they got sick of driving an hour and a half one way to get to work every day. Dad says their sister gave birth and they had to return and assist her since she worked full time. Who knows.”

“Eh?” Satoru’s expression twisted into one of confusion. “I thought the owner just died or something. Hence why the house is haunted.”

“The house isn’t haunted, Satoru. Don’t scare her.”

You cracked your knuckles one-by-one. “If it is haunted, I’m gonna give that realtor hell. He promised it wasn’t. He also promised it hadn’t been touched in only ten years, so he’s already on my list,” you growled, then deflated and wilted. “I suppose I’m not in any rush, I’ll need to save up anyway. I’m bumming off Satoru for now, but I don’t wanna prolong that.”

“I already told you,” he patted your upper back. “Stay as long as you need.”

“Thanks, Satoru. I really owe you,” you said. I hate owing people. “Oh– be careful, Geto-san.”

He gave a pacifying hand wave as he pushed past your open gate, heading towards your house. Satoru hopped up and hurried after him. “Oi, wait up! I wanna see, too!” 

“Satoru, you’ve already been in there before,” Suguru reminded him as you followed them about halfway, wanting to steer clear of the inside for a while.

Satoru twisted the door knob and pushed inwards. “Yeah, when we were kids. Imagine how much it’s changed!”

“I doubt it’s changed much,” their voices grew muffled and eventually silent to you as they disappeared into your home.

You began counting in your head. If they were gone for more than two minutes, you were going to assume they died. Then you could officially label the house as haunted and hunt that realtor’s ass down. After you set up a prayer altar for the boys who so bravely sacrificed their lives for you, obviously, they deserved that at the very least.

You’d have to check with the villagers to see if either of them practiced any particular faith to ensure you provided the correct funeral services for them, and to know if you needed to follow any specific spiritual rules when it came to the deceased.

Should you leave their bodies in there? Probably not, no, but it wasn’t going to be you fishing them out. You were tiny compared to them, you wouldn’t be able to drag them out yourself, even if you wanted to and tried really hard.

Your peculiar funeral fantasies were cut off when Suguru came back outside, still very much alive and well – from what you could tell.

“You lived,” you congratulated him.

“That I did,” he affirmed and stopped beside you, turning to face the house as his arms folded neatly.

“Is he still alive?”

“Last I checked, he was. I’m surprised he didn’t leave as soon as he went in. I think he’s trying to out-man me and impress you,” he teased, making you laugh.

Out came Satoru right then, dusting his hands off, acting like he did anything more than recce. “Alright, I’ve got good news and bad news. Which d’ya want first?”

“Good news,” you requested apprehensively.

He clapped his palms together. “Good news, the interior condition isn’t as bad as it seems.”

Well, that was good news. But you were wary to celebrate. “And the bad news…?”

“There are, indeed, a shit ton of spiders.”

You squealed, racing to hide behind Suguru’s tall frame. The man himself chuckled at your reaction, his arms still crossed over his chest as he tilted his head back to peer at you from over his shoulder, way too relaxed for the situation. “Not a fan of spiders?”

“Fuck no!” You cried out, clutching the back of his shirt in tight fists as you buried your face against his spine. “Fuck that! Burn the damn thing down!”

Gojo grinned darkly, eyes lighting up with mischief. “All you had to say, princess.”

The noiret (the only reasonable one among you) sighed and shook his head. “No, we’re not burning her house down.”

“Boo,” Satoru whined. “You’re no fun.”

“You aren't afraid of spiders?” You peeked around Suguru's arm to leer up at him, still using him as your shield.

“Nope.”

“You monster,” you hissed.

His best friend snorted. “Look on the bright side. It means he can get rid of spiders for you.”

You paused to consider his words, squinting up at the poised man you hadn’t let go of.

“Okay, nevermind, I take it back,” you declared, doing a complete flip in behavior, “you're my god, now, Geto-san.”

He showed you that shut-eyes smile that had hummingbirds dancing the tango in your stomach. “Don’t worry, angel. I’ll protect you.”

Blush dusted your cheeks at his pledge and you averted your eyes. Having either of them in your field of view for too long was not good for your heart.

Satoru wouldn’t be Satoru if he didn’t go and embarrass you further. “Aww, she’s blushing!”

“I am not!” You barked back.

“I think it’s cute,” Geto’s cheek dimpled and you were flashbanged by the faces of not one, but two ethereal beings.

Mama, you thought, if you can hear me, send help. I don’t think I’m making it out of this one.

You gulped, the noise far too loud in your ears, and tried to subtly cover your face with your hand to retain some dignity while releasing Suguru’s shirt from your death grip. “A-Anyways, uh…should probably start calling people.”

“I’ll handle the calls,” Suguru announced, already pulling out his phone and dialing numbers. “I know these guys well. I’ll try to work something out with them.”

“Oh, you really don’t–” and there he went. You knew you asked for help, but you felt bad inconveniencing Suguru. Satoru, not so much.

“What’d I say about worrying?” Speak of the devil, the milk-haired boy bent down to your height and nudged his pointer finger between your brows. “Relaaaax, princess. It’ll work out.”

You worried your bottom lip as you watched the other man chatting some distance away. Detaching yourself from your perpetual anxiety was…difficult, to describe it in the least amount of words possible. Your guard was stuck to you, pinned, screwed, and soldered into place over time. Letting it go meant undoing years of work. 

It was there to shield you. You needed it to hold your untempered heart and keep it safe. If it got hurt, you weren’t sure you knew how to recover.

But you weren’t really letting them in by allowing them to help you, right?

Yet, as you sized up the small incline and the shack falling apart on top of it, you couldn’t shake the impression that the world was about to tilt on its axis. The tides were receding, tectonic pressure was increasing, the winds were stirring, and you were in the middle of it all. Mama, you reached out one last time. I think it’s too late.

banner by cafekitsune ♥

[readychilledwine]

Requiem for a Dream

Part one - Home

After 50 years without his mate, Rhysand is finally free and Home.

Warnings - Rhysand's SA trauma is alluded to, depression is alluded to, terrible self care is seen from Rhiannon the OC. Oh, and as always unedited 💜

A/n - this ended up being a 4 part thing, and they are all scheduled to be posted 2 days apart (because I don't want to make you all wait when I am PROUD of the final smut scene) Each jumps is month into Rhysand being home. Each part gets spicier with time. Each part was also written with different songs involved and in mind. "Home" by MGK, Bebe Rexha, and X Ambassadors was trapped in my mind during this part

Part Two Part Three Part Four

✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️

Rhys collapsed on the floor of the House of Wind. He was panting before finally breaking down. His arms wrapped around his torso as sobs tore through him. "Rhys?!" The sound of heels slapping against the floor came before arms were around him. "You're home."

He found himself clinging to Mor, head buried into her neck. "Mor, what happened?" A deep voice came into the room followed by heavy foot steps. "Rhys? Az!" Mor pulled away, allowing Cassian to fall before Rhys and pull him into another tight hug. "Let's get you inside, brother."

Rhys allowed him to support him and move him into the living room. Shadows had begun to scurry, moving with a purpose as Azriel appeared in the room and then froze. He walked to Rhys as if he was seeing a ghost, his scarred hands holding his face before his own tears began to fall and they embraced.

"Why are we all gathered in the living room? Food is that-" Amren stopped mid sentence, dropping the flute of blood she was holding. Azriel released Rhysand, backing away to be held by Cassian as the ancient being approached. "Do not ever scare us like that again, boy."

Rhys couldn't help but to laugh and nod before feeling shocked as Amren buried her face into his chest and held him. The Inner Circle stood in silence and tears. Before the question Rhys had since landing finally came out of his mouth. His voice was broken, confidence leaving his body as he asked, "Where is my wife?"

—------------

Rhiannon was hunched over a desk. She was reading through countless reports that had suddenly shown up once the barrier broke.

She refused to go to dinner, choosing to instead distract herself with work. The House had tried pulling her chair from under her, a shadow had tried dragging her out of his office, and the faelights had flickered indicating to her someone had entered her home, but Rhiannon didn't move.

She'd rather work herself to death or starve than get her hopes up that her mate was finally home. She'd rather be burned on an Autumn Court Pyre than allow her heart to break any further than it had.

50 years. 50 long years without Rhysand. Without hearing his laugh. Without the smell of citrus and salt. Without feeling his hands on her body, his lips on hers. 50 years without hearing the sound of his voice. She was broken. Broken from the nightmares he unknowingly sent down the bond. Broken from his last words to her being a command to stay in the House of Wind. Broken from feeling the bond they had never closed grow colder than ice.

Another shadow came, Weaving into her hair to let her know her true brother, Azriel, was thinking of her. That he wanted her to come downstairs and eat. "Tell your master I will eat later. I'm busy reading 50 years of reports from Illyria."

—---------

Azriel sighed deeply, looking at Cassian and shaking his head. "She's going to work herself to death." Cassian whispered as they watched Rhys stare at her chair. "He needs her."

Azriel stood. "I will be right back." Rhysand shook his head, standing next.

"You stay. I'll go." He took his whiskey with him, moving out of the room. "I'll be back soon. I'll just pull rank on her."

—-------

Rhiannon sighed in annoyance as the door opened. "I told you I'd eat later, Az. Fuck off." Rhys watched her. Her long dark brown hair was falling in waves to her hips. Her hazel eyes were reading through paper after paper, marking things she had questions over before moving to the next.

She was wearing a beautiful black dress that dipped low in the front, allowing him a view of her tan skin, of her full breasts, her toned stomach. She was thinner than when he had left, causing his heart to ache. He sat across from her, slightly shocked when she didn't look up. He wanted to pull her into his lap, to hold her, to cry into her shoulder. But he would wait. Wait until they had spoken about the choices he made.

"Just say what you want to say and leave, Azriel. I'm genuinely not in the mood."

He chose then to open the bond. It flooded both of them, causing Rhiannon to drop the paper she was holding. "There's 50 years of things I'd like to say to you, wife." He took a sip of his whiskey as she was taking uneven breaths to try to regain stability from the emotions taking over her own. "I'd prefer to eat first though, and then we could speak later tonight at the River House. Away from everyone else." She gave him no reaction. Shock was sitting in the middle of their bond, blocking him from her feelings, her mind, her needs.

"Please come eat with us. I-" His eyes squeezed shut as her emotions began to hit him. Her longing, her love, her needs, her stresses. "I need us all to eat together. I need family dinner. The papers can wait. They've waited 50 years, darling."

Rhiannon stood, moving to be directly in front of her husband as he stood. She had not spoken. Hands shaking as she lifted them to touch his face before stopping. He realized slowly that she already knew. She knew what had happened to him. What he had done. "You were actually there in those dreams, weren't you?" His voice was broken as he tried to step away from her before her hands shot to his wrists. "Rhi-"

"Please don't pull away from me. I won't touch you without your permission. I'll do whatever you need. Just please don't do what I can feel you thinking about."

Rhys nodded. His own hands trembling as he laced their fingers together and took a deep breath. "It might be awhile, Rhiannon."

She shook her head rapidly. "I don't care. It doesn't matter as long as you are here. I'd wait forever for you." The sentence was all it took for him to pull her into his arms, releasing a sob of relief as she whispered how much she loved and adored him.

[imaginespazzi]

Part 3: Shades of Grey

Masterlist - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7

That's the thing about illicit affairs (they lie and they lie and they lie)

(In which a masochistic writer makes things difficult for herself and makes things even messier than they were before)

Pairing: Paige Bueckers X Azzi Fudd

Themes: Angst, Pining, a little bit of Hurt/Comfort and Fluff as always

Words: 7.2K (nice and short as always)

TW: Explicit Sexual Content (MINORS DNI), Swearing, Cheating

A/N: Hello my lovelies <3 I feel like I'm doing a pretty good job of sticking to my deadlines, who woulda thunk it? Fun fact, I'm at ~ 50 google-doc pages with this fic and despite my constant "trying to write less" rants, I'm actually lowkey proud of that. Anyways, there's a pretty clear hint (I am not a subtle person) as to why what happens at the end happens and if you pick up on it, I promise it'll save you from losing your minds till I write part 4. Also a couple of logistical details about the Cayman Islands are probably off but it's what worked so it's what I did, just pretend lol. Per usual, I did edit, there's probably still typos any way, feel free to point them out. And as always, let me know what you liked, what you didn't and what you'd like to see in the future. Happy reading and have a wonderful rest of your week lovelies!

August 2021

The fight was inevitable but neither of them can tell you what really lit the flame. One second they had been fine (well as fine as two girls who knew tonight was their last night in a while could be), the next they were hurling bullets at each other. There’s a subconscious part of Azzi’s brain that tells her to grab Paige and duck for cover, to preserve whatever little bit of friendship they can. But her whole body vibrates with anger as Paige’s words crash around her like a tsunami, drowning out the good angel on her shoulder that’s pleading with her to stop. 

“It’s a good thing really. You and your non-existent nerves would have never survived playing for UConn,” Paige sneers, and that mean smirk on her face just doesn’t quite fit right, “I don’t know what I was thinking with that honestly. You’re not built like that.”

Azzi flinches, eyes blazing, “some of us want to be more than just another good UConn player.”

“That’s what all the people not good enough to play for UConn say,” Paige retorts bitterly and Azzi doesn’t think she knows this girl standing in front of her, one whose words are aimed to make her cry instead of laugh. 

“Not good enough and yet you still wanted me on your team.”

“Nah you know what, my bad, I didn’t realise you’d fucking stab me in the back like that, ” Paige hisses, “you’re a fake as fuck friend and you’d probably make a shit teammate.”

Azzi’s never had a heart attack. She doesn’t even fully think she knows what a heart attack really is. But she’s certain this pain in her chest can’t possibly be anything less than one. It starts at her heart and then spreads to her lungs and then floods through her body, until she can’t move, she can’t breathe. 

“You don’t mean that,” she whispers. 

Paige hesitates, as if suddenly aware of the fragility of the moment, her voice considerably softer when she speaks but she doesn’t take it back, “ real friends choose each other.”

“Oh my god,” Azzi laughs, it’s the worst thing she could do in the moment and Paige’s eyes flash with anger, “you’re so fucking full of yourself.”

“Watch your fucking mouth-”

“Don’t you even dare. You say all that shit to me and now you can’t hear some of it back? Contrary to what you might think Paige, my whole life doesn’t revolve around you. My decision for where to spend the next four fucking years, does not revolve around you,” Azzi’s voice rises with each word. 

Fighting is cathartic in a way. They’ve spent almost a year delicately tip-toeing around the subject, growing further and further apart and yet still holding on for dear life. And Azzi doesn’t want to let go, but everything feels burning hot, and her hands are starting to blister. 

“Oh you’ve made that very clear,” Paige bites back, “you’ve made it very clear just how little I mean to you.”

“Because I chose a different school? That’s all it took Paige, seriously? That’s all it took for you to call our friendship fake?”

“No what it took Azzi was you being a fucking liar.”

“I didn’t lie about anything.”

Paige scoffs, her voice taking on a pitchy mocking tone, “ ‘I’d love to play with you Paige’, ‘being on the same team would be nice P’,  all of that fucking bullshit when you didn’t mean any of it.”

“Oh we’re playing that game,” Azzi seethes, “how about ‘Az I’d support you no matter what’ huh? Where did all of that go?”

“Maybe if you didn’t make stupid decisions then.”

“No, actually choosing not to play with you might have been my smartest decision yet,” as soon as the words are out, there’s a part of Azzi that wishes she could wrench them back in. 

“Right,” Paige’s voice is eerily quiet now, “well I hope that works out well for you then. Go to UCLA Azzi, have a great fucking life and stay the fuck away from mine.”

“I didn’t mean it like that,” Azzi takes a cautious step towards the blonde and almost immediately, Paige steps backwards, her expression suddenly blank. The change to indifference is somehow worse than the previous malice, “Paige-”

“Fuck this, I’m going home,” Paige says resolutely, her fingers fidgeting with themselves as she reaches for her phone and wallet. 

“We need to talk this out, we need to try and fix this,” Azzi all but pleads, trying to position herself in front of the persistent older girl who’s trying to make her way to the door. 

“I don’t know if I want to fucking fix this,” Paige yells, shaking away Azzi’s hand on her shoulder, “I don’t know if it’s worth it,” her voice breaks as she says the next words, “I don’t even think  I wanna be friends.”

When Azzi’s 14, Paige Bueckers dribbles through a USA basketball camp court straight into her life and teaches her all about how one person can come into your life and carve out a permanent shelf. When Azzi’s 16, Paige’s casual smiles and not-so-insignificant touches teach her all about the complicated space in-between just friends and something more. When Azzi’s 18, Paige says those words, ones that sound a lot like giving up, and teaches Azzi that sometimes in life, even the people you thought would never make you feel this way, are the ones who'll break you the most. And that’s the day Azzi makes a promise to herself that she’ll never give someone that part of herself again, unaware that when she’s 20, Paige will teach her that some promises are meant to be broken. 

***

July 2023

Azzi doesn’t know what god she pissed off to get herself into this position, stuck in a booth with Zoe on one side and Paige on the other. Her girlfriend’s left hand is placed firmly on her thigh and Azzi has to fight the vehement urge to shake it away because Zoe’s normally soft, sweet touch feels itchy and heavy. But the way Paige’s biceps are pressed against hers might be even worse. Every time the blonde moves a little, the sliding of her smooth skin against Azzi’s arms, sends a jolt of electricity through her veins. And Azzi doesn’t know when she became that girl, the girl who already has someone to hold her but is desperately craving somebody else’s touch. 

When people’s girlfriends surprise them with an unexpected visit, the appropriate reaction is to be overwhelmed with happiness. Except since she’d met her, Azzi’s summers have always belonged to Paige. With them having lived in separate states most of their lives, it was the one time they got to be with each other for an extended period of time. It was an unspoken rule really, one that they had subconsciously still followed the year before when Azzi had shown up at Paige’s door, even if they’d only gotten the last couple of weeks of the season; summer was theirs. So, when Zoe had shown up that afternoon with a bright smile and shining eyes, all Azzi had been able to register was a sense of loss as Paige pulled her hand out of Azzi’s. 

Introductions had been somewhat awkward. Her parents knew of Zoe, but hadn’t met her yet. They were nice of course, her dad pulling the shorter girl into one of his bear hugs and her mom giving her a warm smile. Jon and José were more awkward, nodding their greetings but making no move to actually welcome her. Paige had managed to muster up a smile, one that didn’t quite reach her eyes, and shake the other girl’s outstretched hand. And then there was Drew, whose normally goofy smile seemed to have disappeared. 

“Who are you?” the young boy had asked quizzically, his eyebrows crinkling together. 

“Oh umm, I’m uh- Azzi’s girlfriend,” Zoe had replied, the last word causing Paige to involuntarily flinch. 

Drew had looked over to Azzi then, his eyes wide and accusing, “you can’t be Azzi’s girlfriend.”

“Is that so?” Zoe hummed, clearly not taking him seriously. 

“It is,” Drew had said petulantly, ignoring Paige’s warning squeeze, “she’s Paige’s.”

The silence after had been deafening, as Azzi tried to stop herself from choking on air. Eventually Paige had regained her senses first, apologising for her younger brother’s lack of filter (“he says stupid things all the time”) and then Azzi’s dad had swooped in before things could possibly get any more awkward, proposing that they all go out to dinner. And that’s how Azzi has ended up here, shuffled in a booth, opposite her parents, with Paige on one side and Zoe on the other. Life really and truly isn’t on her side these days. 

“So girls, what are y’all pizza orders?” Tim asks jovially. Azzi’s brothers and Drew, desperate to go enjoy the sun (and avoid Zoe), had already told them their orders before zooming to the park right outside the restaurant. 

“Oh uh- Az you wanna share a Margherita pizza?”

“Azzi and I’ll just have our usual.”

It’s as if the world wants Azzi to suffer as both Zoe and Paige immediately look at her expectantly. The girl in question keeps her eyes focused on the menu in front of her, unsure how to best handle this predicament by doing anything other than maybe just running out of the restaurant. 

“What’s your usual?” Zoe asks, her voice all curiosity and no ill-intent. 

“Grilled chicken and bacon with spinach and onions.”

“But Azzi doesn’t like onions, she says they make-”

“They make her breath smell I know,” there’s a hard edge to Paige’s voice, “but she-”

“She can’t pick them off. She can’t pick anything off of her pizza because it takes-”

“It takes the cheese off, I know that too. That’s not what I was going to say. She doesn’t eat them because she thinks they make her breath smell but she does like them. It’s just-,” Paige’s eyes flare with mischief, “she only eats them around people who are close to her. Guess you’re not quite there yet.”

Since Azzi had mustered up the courage to finally tell Paige about Zoe, right before summer break started, Paige had been nothing but respectful, supportive even. Until tonight apparently and Azzi doesn’t even know to react to the fact that her best friend has started a pissing contest over fucking onions. 

“Right,” Zoe bites her lips, her ever-present smile slipping slightly as she slowly pries the menu out of Azzi’s hands and looks at her with hopefully eyes, “but we’ll get the Margherita tonight babe?”

“I-” and Azzi really should say yes, side with Zoe like the good girlfriend she is, except, well, all she can think about is that Paige hasn’t smiled since the California girl had arrived in D.C., “I think um- I’ll stick to my usual Zo, I’m sorry.”

She’s a terrible girlfriend, because immediately Zoe’s smile fades, and Azzi barely notices it, too busy watching Paige’s grin light up her face. Her baby blue eyes sparkle as if she’s won some important battle and it’s not even dark yet, but Azzi swears it feels like the stars have come out. 

“Okay,” Tim says slowly, looking between the three younger girls, as he waives over the waitress, “if that’s decided then.”

The issue with Paige being pretty, is that nobody’s really immune to it, including the cheerful waitress that practically skips over to serve them. Her eyes glaze over a little bit as they roam across the blonde’s face and then to her arms before drifting down to her torso. Paige’s tank top doesn’t leave much to the imagination, exposing both her muscled biceps and toned torso and Azzi doesn’t need an x-ray to know the widely appropriate thoughts going through the waitress’s head. The feral roar of mine takes birth in her stomach and the quieting whisper of she’s not does little to subdue it. 

“I’m Libby,” the waitress says, tongue darting across her lips, eyes solely focused on Paige, “and I’ll be your server today.”

Libby collects orders dutifully, polite and agreeable, but doesn’t once fully look away from the blonde, practically drooling once she finally gets to her, “and what can I get for you to drink babe?” 

Azzi’s not sure whether it’s the sultry tone or the nickname that gets Paige’s attention, but all of a sudden her best friend is staring up at the waitress with her own flirty smile. She likes to think she’s not a particularly violent person, but Azzi thinks she might end up in jail for homicide tonight. 

“Well babe,” Paige winks, Azzi wants to die, “what would you recommend?”

Libby smirks, clearly feeling triumphant as she leans on the table, one hand reaching out to brush Paige’s forearm, “sex on the beach.”

Several things happen at once. Tim chokes on a breadstick. Katie immediately thumps him on the back. Zoe lets out a laugh. Azzi’s nails break the skin of her palm, drawing blood as she fists both of hands. And then-

“She has a girlfriend,” it’s a blatantly untrue but all Azzi can think about is stopping this  random girl from eye-fucking her Paige. It does the trick, Libby’s eyes go comically wide, as she steps back from the table, from Paige. 

“She does?” Tim asks. Next to him, Katie, shoots her daughter a knowing look that veers on the edge of disappointment. 

Azzi stutters under the heat of Paige’s glare, the blonde clearly unamused by her lie, “I uh- I mean um- it’s not official but um yeah,” she doesn’t even sound convincing to herself, “I’m uh- I’m gonna go to the bathroom.”

She practically shoves Paige out of the booth so she can climb out of it herself, adrenaline pumping through her veins. Her heart hammers in her chest and she tries to block out the sound of Paige’s being questioned by her dad, as she rushes into the restroom. 

There’s no amount of water she could splash on her face to make this heat go away, but she tries anyway, unsure of when the tap water starts to blend in with the tears streaming down her face. The unsettling anger of how dare she flirt with another girl beating in her heart is replaced by the guilt of i’m not allowed to feel this way thrashing around her rib cage. It hurts all the same, as Azzi clutches her chest, trying to even out her breathing.

She doesn’t hear the door open or close until, “What the fuck was that?”

“Get out,” Azzi whispers, closing her eyes and leaning her head on the mirror, “just give me a second okay?”

“Oh no, no, no, you owe me a huge fucking explanation right now,” Paige hisses, “what the fuck was that bullshit? I don’t have a girlfriend.”

“It was a joke-” before Azzi can even finish the sentence, there’s a hand on her biceps, forcing her to turn around. When she opens her eyes, Paige’s face is far too close to her own and when she tries to move back, she’s trapped with the cool edge of the sink. It’s too much, the proximity, the tension, the lingering touch of Paige’s fingers curled around her arm. 

“Stop lying,” Paige bites out. 

“It just slipped out babe,” and fuck, Azzi absolutely hadn’t meant to add that last part, hadn’t meant to make it so obvious what exactly had triggered her little outburst. Realisation flashes across Paige’s face, as she takes a step back, letting go of Azzi, and the distance should be freeing, but instead it just makes her feel lost.  

“That’s what this is about?” the blonde asks in disbelief. 

“Yes- no- I don’t know, okay,” Azzi’s voice is high-pitched, “I’m sorry okay. I’ll tell the waitress it was a joke,” she lets out a humourless laugh, “I didn’t mean to fucking cockblock you.”

“Cockblock me? Dude I wasn’t trying to fuck the waitress what the fuck?”

“Could’ve fooled me babe,” Azzi sneers. 

Something menacing flashes in Paige’s eyes, “stop calling me that.”

“What? You don’t like me calling you babe. You didn’t seem to have a problem when it was her.” 

“Oh my fucking god Azzi,” Paige throws her hands up, “you don’t get to do this. Not when your girlfriend is sitting right there.”

The reminder of Zoe is like being splashed with cold water and Azzi feels everything inside of her freeze. She grips the edge of the sink, trying to find some semblance of balance as Paige continues to glare at her. 

“For the past few hours, I have had to hear your girlfriend call you every fucking nickname in the book. I have had to watch her kiss you and move your hair back and grip your fucking knee under the table,” with every sentence, Paige inches closer and closer, until she’s accentuating every word by pushing her index finger into Azzi’s chest, “and you can’t even fucking deal with me calling some other girl babe?”

“Paige,” Azzi whispers when Paige’s voice breaks on the last word. Their faces are so close, she can feel the other girl’s uneven breathing all over her skin. And it takes everything in her to not cave in and reach a hand out to caress away the tear that's threatening to fall from the blonde’s tearline. 

“It’s been hell Azzi,” Paige spits out, “so you don’t get to be upset if I want to fuck someone-”

Something snaps and before Paige can complete the offending sentence, before she can imprint an image that will forever haunt Azzi’s mind, Azzi silences all the warning bells of why she really shouldn’t, and pulls her best friend into a searing kiss. Immediately, Paige’s hands come to rest against Azzi’s hips, pressing her firmly against the edge of the sink. It’s as if they’re trying to meld their bodies together, both of them gripping each other as close as possible. Outside, it’s a summer evening of clear blue skies, but here in this random restaurant restroom, lightning strikes.

Paige bites at Azzi’s bottom lip and then traces her tongue over the bruise she’s created, smirking when it elicits a gasp from the younger girl. Lips still firmly moving against Azzi’s, her hands work expertly on the buttons of Azzi’s tight shorts. The sensation of everything Paige is all-consuming and Azzi feels like she’s drunk on the taste of her best friend’s skin, as she moves away from Paige’s lips, to pepper kisses on her neck, before moving down to suck a mark into her collarbone. Mine, mine, mine. 

“Fuck Az,” Paige moans when Azzi’s teeth grate against her skin and it’s the brunette’s turn to smirk. But her cockiness is short-lived when Paige’s fingers finally find their way into her now unbuttoned shorts. They press down on her clit through her underwear, making her whine. 

A cry of “Paige,” escapes her lips when the blonde slides Azzi’s panties to the side, her middle and index finger beginning to rub circles around the younger girl’s clit in a tantalisingly slow rhythm. 

“So wet, so fucking wet for me,” Paige’s voice is wrecked with want, as she brings her free hand to cup Azzi’s jaw, forcing her best friend to look her in the eyes. It scares Azzi, the sheer amount of emotion she can see swirling in the blonde’s eyes. There’s lust and then there’s something else, another l-word that she can’t bring herself to acknowledge, knowing it’ll ruin her, ruin them. 

“Please,” Azzi whispers against Paige’s mouth, as the older girl’s fingers slip from her clit to tease against her soaking entrance, dipping into her folds but not giving her what she wants. 

“If you want something baby,” Paige traces Azzi’s lips with her thumb, “you have to ask for it.”

Azzi's hands moved away from where they had been firmly gripping Paige’s waist, to wrap around her neck. She bites softly against Paige’s left earlobe, eliciting a low groan, before bringing her lips as close to the blonde’s ears as she can, “I want you to fuck me.”

It’s all it takes, Paige finally gives Azzi what her body’s so desperately craving, for far longer than she’s willing to admit, pumping two fingers into her pussy, while her thumb stimulates her clit. And fuck, Paige knows exactly what she’s doing, fingers curling in the exact right spots and Azzi feels like she’s floating or flying or falling, maybe all of the above. 

“Please, please, please,” Azzi babbles incoherently, burying her face in the crevice of Paige’s neck, tears beginning to blur her vision. Because, it’s too much, the ecstasy, the fact that it’s Paige behind the ecstasy, the fact that this is better than her wildest fantasies. 

“Doing so good for me baby,” Paige praises, fingers starting to move faster, “taking my fingers so fucking well Az, think you can handle one more?”

Azzi whines in response. Paige pushes in a third finger, both of them letting out identical sighs of pleasure. She’s slow for a second, giving Azzi time to adjust but-

“Fuck, Paige, faster, please,” the younger girls moans, grinding fervently, desperately,  against Paige’s fingers, trying to create more fiction. 

“Anything for you Az,” Paige whispers, and even in the high of the moment, Azzi knows those words are about more than sex, “whatever you want.”

As Paige’s fingers begin to move at a rapid pace, curling around her g-spot, over and over and over, Azzi can feel that familiar pressure building in her stomach. Her fingers claw at Paige’s neck in warning, too worked up for words. Paige nudge’s Azzi’s face out of her neck, free hand cupping the younger girl's jaw. 

“Come apart for me baby,” she whispers before pressing their lips together. 

Azzi’s hips stutter as her orgasm rolls all over her, pussy clenching around Paige’s fingers, as she moans into the older girl's mouth. Spent, her body goes limp, her best friend’s  firm grip pressing her against the edge of the sink, the only thing anchoring her and keeping her uprights. Paige slowly pulls her fingers out of Azzi’s pants and the loss of contact feels wrong. It’s instinct really, as Azzi reaches for Paige’s hand and brings it up to her mouth, sucking each of the older girl’s fingers clean one by one, and it’s worth it for the way Paige looks wrecked. 

“Az-” she begins softly, eyes filled with questions but before Azzi can even think about any answers- 

“Azzi,” reality crashes and burns around the two girls as Zoe’s voice calls out for her girlfriend. The sound of footsteps gets closer and closer. Panic takes the place of pleasure as Paige and Azzi jump apart from each other and the realisation of their surroundings hits both of them at the same time. Sweat sheens against Paige’s collarbone and Azzi’s lips are bruised, her eyes still glazy. Their identical dishevelled demeanour gives away far too much. Just as the restroom door creaks open a little, Azzi dives into one of the stalls. 

“Oh, hey Paige,” guilt pools in Azzi’s stomach at the sound of Zoe’s innocent voice, as she presses her ear against the stall door,  “is Azzi in here? She’s been gone for like 20 minutes.”

“She- she was,” Paige stutters, and Azzi hates herself even more for putting her best friend in this position, “I-uh I think she um- she wanted some fresh air.”

“Ah okay, I’ll go try and find her,” Zoe pauses, “are you okay? You look a little flustered.”

“Me? Oh yeah, I’m fine,” Paige assures in a high-pitched voice, “just uh miss my girlfriend you know.”

Azzi flinches at the lie. She’d made such a fucking mess today. The lying, the cheating, all of it was so out of character and all of a sudden, she feels dirty. Tears brim in her eyes as she begins to process the gravity of what she’d done. And perhaps the worst part of it, is that she can’t find it in herself to fully regret it. If she could turn back time, she doesn’t know if she’d do anything different. Because when it comes to Paige, Azzi’s fine living in shades of grey. 

“Yeah, I didn’t know you had a girlfriend,” Zoe says slowly. 

There’s a pause and Azzi knows the words neither did I are floating in Paige's mind before she answers, “yeah, it’s uh- it’s new.”

“That’s good. I’m happy for you,” the sincerity in Zoe’s words hit like stones, rupturing whatever built up image of i am a good person Azzi had ever had of herself

“Thank you,” Paige replies quietly. 

“It just-,” Zoe draws in a breath, “Azzi she- she worries about you a lot you know. Even before- you know- when you guys weren’t- you know? Like I think she thinks about you a lot,” there’s an unmistakable wistfulness in Zoe’s voice, “ like- if you’re doing okay and all that. And I don’t- I don’t even know you but I know she wants you to be happy- and- and I want whatever Azzi wants- so- so if you’re happy- that’s good.”

“That’s- that’s really sweet of you,” Paige sounds as guilty as Azzi feels.

There’s quiet for a minute until, “do you think I make her happy? Does she- does she talk about me?”

Zoe’s voice is laced in insecurity and hopefulness and Azzi wishes she’d never brought this girl into her mess in the first place. The sun-kissed Californian had been a classmate who had accidentally stumbled upon Azzi mid-breakdown on a random Thursday. One second she was hesitant, the next she was spilling her woes to a stranger, tired of holding it in. And from then on Zoe had been on a mission to just be there. She’d never hidden her intention, always clear that she wanted more than friendship and Azzi, despite knowing that her heart didn’t really have space for anyone else, had let her loneliness be her guide and given in to the urge to just let someone hold her. But the truth is that while every other second spent with Zoe was filled with mentions of Paige’s name, every moment spent with Paige was never about anything else other than her. 

“She- she does, she seems happy,” Paige can’t bring herself to say the with you. The blonde sounds defeated, as if the admission that Azzi could possibly be happy with someone else has taken everything out of her. 

“Good, it means a lot,” Zoe’s voice is lighter now, like there’s a smile hidden in it, “especially from you. Thank you. I’ll uh- I’ll go see if I can find her.”

Azzi waits for the sound of footsteps shuffling and then the sound of the door clicking behind Zoe, before prying herself out of the stall. Paige is hunched over the sink, face buried in her hands. And the words my fault, my fault, my fault imprint themselves all over Azzi’s heart. 

“Your girlfriend’s looking for you,” Paige says, not bothering to look up. 

“Paige I-”

“Just go Azzi, we’ll just” Paige scoffs, “we’ll just play pretend again,” the walls are up again and Paige is unreachable in her castle built from the ashes of the purity in their friendship that they’d just sacrified for a fucking quickie in a barely-lit restroom. And maybe Azzi should say something, maybe she should stay and see if she can fight her way into Paige’s castle. But Azzi’s no knight in shining armour, not Paige’s, not Zoe’s, not anybody else’s because knights don’t cheat and they don’t lie and they don’t break people’s hearts. So she listens to what her best friend says, she walks out, and she pretends she doesn’t hear the sob that’s let out behind her. 

***

November 2023

UCLA is up on UConn, it should be a pretty momentous occasion and it is. Azzi’s had one of the best games of her career to get her team mere seconds away from getting their first win over the powerhouse. For UConn, so has Paige, except there’s nothing but frustration gleaming in the blonde’s face. The game had been bad for UConn, the cracks created by injuries on full display. And the competitor in Azzi was more than happy to take advantage of that. But the part of her that was Paige’s best friend was stuck on how tired Paige looked. Someone fucking help her, Azzi had thought throughout the game, she literally just came back from injury. 

The outcome of the game is clear and Azzi’s already on the bench getting rest, cheering for her own team of course, but keeping a subtle eye on what’s happening with Paige. Azzi’s eyes follow Paige as she’s finally subbed out. The older girl walks to the end of her own bench, hands coming to rest on her thighs as she hangs her head, face scrunched up in irritation. Paige does that thing where it's like she’s trying to bite of all the skin on her lips and Azzi has the familiar urge to march over and make her stop, preferably by kissing her, not that that’s a thought she’s allowed to have. 

It’s ironic really, the 2,943 miles that had once been the reason they’d fallen apart, is the only thing holding them together. Being out of each other’s reach makes it easier to ignore what had happened over the summer, makes it easier to not give into that same vice all over again. And it makes sense, Azzi thinks, because since she’s met her, whenever Paige had just been a blurry goofy face on her screen, they’d been good at the just friends thing. The moment they could touch though, that’s when lines got blurry. As much as Azzi’s not sure how she survived a year without Paige, she’s even less sure about how she’d survived that one year where they’d practically lived in each other’s skins. 

Things in the handshake line are somewhat icy with both teams being overprotective of their star players. Muhl’s eyes are full of disdain once she reaches Azzi and Arnold barely shakes her hand, only doing as much as she has to, to keep up appearance. Azzi’s teammates aren’t any better, Angelica smiles at everyone until she reaches Paige, and Kiki rolls her eyes at the point guard. But it doesn’t matter what anybody else does, not when Paige practically falls into Azzi’s arms, her tense body finally beginning to relax a little. 

“You did good,” Azzi whispers into the blonde’s hair, tightening her hold on the other girl as she soothingly strokes her back.

Paige scoffs, burying her face further into Azzi’s neck, “you did good, I did what I had to.”

They break apart reluctantly, the shutter of cameras ruining the intimacy of the moment. Their hands hold on a touch longer but the minute they finally slip away from each other, the familiar feeling of i’m tired of missing you that seems to always be lingering within Azzi, prickles against her heart. 

*** 

UConn and UCLA don’t have a rivalry but if you were sat at the hotel restaurant in the Cayman Islands on a lovely November evening, you wouldn’t know that. There’s multiple women’s basketball teams present at the restaurant and everyone’s mingling with each other but the Bruins and Huskies seem determined to avoid each other at all costs. At one point, Angelica and Muhl, of course it would be them, accidentally bump into each other and Azzi holds her breath at the icy glare shared between them. She’s not sure how she and Paige ended up with something akin to the women’s basketball version of the Montagues and the Capulets, but it seems fitting with the way her life’s been going, that it would eventually start to take the shape of a tragedy.

It’s around 10pm when Azzi notices Paige moving in the direction of the door, towards the beach. Azzi hesitates for a moment, knowing her need to go after the blonde isn't just one born out of a best friend’s concern, but it’s Paige. It doesn’t matter if there’s inevitable destruction on the other side, it’s Paige and when it’s Paige, Azzi will follow. 

Paige’s silhouette on the beach, glowing underneath the moonlight, with waves crashing onto the shore beyond her, is straight out of a dream. Azzi’s not an artist by any means, but she thinks if she were, this moment would be her muse. The sea wind causes Paige’s hair to flutter with it. Her eyes are closed in concentration, knees pressed against her heaving chest as she takes in deep breaths of salty air. Azzi traipses across the sand, sandals in hand, before falling to the ground next to the other girl. A whisper of a smile is the only acknowledgement Paige offers her as they let a comfortable silence glide over them. 

“It would be nice to live here,” Paige says after a moment, “it’s peaceful.”

“Except when it storms,” Azzi surmises. 

“It’s not peaceful anywhere when it storms,” Paige counters matter-of-factly, “can you just let me have my moment?

“Right, right, continue.”

“Well now I don’t want to.”

Azzi laughs. Paige grins. It’s so easy. It’s so fucking scary. 

“Why’d you leave the restaurant?” Azzi asks cautiously. 

“Fresh air.”

“And?”

Paige sighs, fidgeting with the hem of her shirt, “it’s gonna be a long season.”

“It always feels like that at the beginning.”

“I know- it’s just- after last year- I just thought it would be different. We’d show the world this time. Be like the other UConn teams of the past. Maybe I just wanted something easier.”

“No you didn’t,” Azzi nudges Paige’s shoulder, “you’ve never wanted easy in your goddamn life Paige. If it’s not a challenge, then it’s not for you. Because you’re God’s strongest soldier, and He’ll give you  his hardest battles, right?”

“Right, but sometimes I just don’t feel so strong.”

“Remember what I said in LA? It’s okay to feel that way P. It’s okay to feel however you feel. Let yourself breathe sometimes, it’s good for you. Fall down, let things go, just- remember to get back up and hold on again. It’ll get better, I promise.”

“You always say the right things,” Paige says quietly, and then even quieter, she whispers under her breath, “you make it so hard Az.”

Azzi’s not fully sure what that means. She’s not sure she wants to. Instead she tangles her and Paige’s fingers together, ignoring the way it feels a little too right,  and lets them fall back into a peaceful quiet.

“So,” Paige begins again, after a couple of minutes, “Zoe didn’t make the trip here?”

I’m holding your hand and you’re thinking about my girlfriend. Maybe you’re a better person than me. 

“She can’t just leave all her schoolwork and follow me wherever,” Azzi says, trying to keep the defensiveness out of her voice. It’s true except the part where Zoe had asked if she wanted her there and Azzi hadn’t been able to give her the enthusiastic yes she wanted, starting an unspoken argument that quashed any chance of a nice romantic island getaway for the two of them. 

“She did for the Elite 8 last-” Paige bites her tongue. 

“How did you-,” Azzi’s brain feels dizzy with confusion, “how could you know that? You left- after the Sweet 16, you- how did you know Zoe was there?”

“I didn’t leave,” Paige keeps her eyes adamantly on the ocean, “the team wanted to stay longer,” that’s a lie, Azzi knows her too well, “and so I stayed and you know me, I love watching hoops so I uh- I watched your game.”

“You were there,” Azzi whispers more to herself than Paige at this point. She’d been so sure she was just hallucinating, her heart trying to trick itself into seeing what it wanted to see, “why didn’t you tell me you were there? Why didn’t you come see me after the game?”

“I did- fuck Azzi- I did-”

“Where? I would’ve seen- I didn’t see-” 

“I saw you,” Paige cuts through Azzi’s frantic questioning, her voice heavy with unspoken emotions as she continues to refuse to look at the younger girl, “you and Zoe. Together.”

“Paige-”

“After the game, you were looking for someone in the stands and I- I thought maybe you were looking for your parents but then I saw you- with her- outside the locker room and- it hit me that- that you were looking for her,” Paige spits the last word out as it feels like lava on her tongue. 

In the grand scheme of things, maybe Azzi should let Paige keep this misconception, maybe it would make things simpler if she let Paige believe in the idea that there was someone else Azzi sought out when she was struggling. But- 

“I thought I saw you,” Azzi breathes out, “I should have been looking for Zoe but-” she has to draw in a breath when Paige whips around, piercing blue eyes that feel like they can see straight into Azzi’s soul, “Paige, I was looking for you-”

The last bit of sound is stolen away from Azzi as Paige’s lips crash onto hers. And it’s so different from summer and that wretched bathroom. Something softer, more gentle, but still desperate and passionate. Time slows down, as Azzi pulls Paige into her lap, hands caressing her waist, mouths still moving against each other with perfect rhythm. They only pull away when air becomes a necessity, resting their forehead against each other, as they breathe in sync. 

“You’re so beautiful,” Azzi whispers, moving a strand of hair out the blonde’s face. 

The way Paige blushes is everything, “stop.”

“You are,” Azzi insists, pressing a kiss against the corner against the edge of her lips, “you’re perfect P.”

If she goes blind tomorrow, in the next second even, Azzi thinks that would be okay. As long as this, Paige with her soft Azzi smile, looking at her with that sparkle in her eyes, face illuminated by the shine of the stars, is the last thing Azzi sees. 

Slowly Paige climbs off of her, stretching out a hand to pull Azzi up. 

“You don’t have a roommate right?,” she asks with a soft smirk that transforms into a shy grin when Azzi nods. And this isn’t a version of Paige that Azzi's ever met before, so different from her cocky loud best friend, but she’d like to learn her all the same. 

The hotel staff probably think they’re a little drunk as they giggle their way to Azzi’s hotel room. Azzi barely manages to get the door open, before Paige’s lips are all over her again, drifting everywhere from her lips to her neck to her collarbone. 

“Off, off, off,” Paige urges, hands pulling away Azzi’s shirt and she can’t help but giggle at the older girl’s impatience. She keeps her eyes firmly on Paige as she unhooks her bra, smirking as her best friend’s eyes glaze over. Paige moves to touch her, and Azzi moves back immediately. 

“Nuh huh. I show you mine, you show me yours.”

“You’re so fucking annoying,” Paige groans but does as she’s told, discarding her shirt and Azzi’s smirk widens. She moves towards Paige, slowly tracing her tongue down the older girl’s neck. 

“Am I?” Azzi whispers, as she backs her best friend onto the bed. Paige’s eyes follow her every movement as Azzi slowly slides down Paige’s pants, and then her underwear. She runs a finger down Paige’s soaked folds, causing the other girl’s body to shiver, “so wet already, for someone so annoying?”

“Fuck y-” Paige cuts herself off with a groan, when Azzi’s fingers find her sensitive clit.

Settling herself in between the older girl's legs, Azzi grazes her teeth against Paige’s left thigh, satisfied when it makes the other girl’s breath hitch,  “if I’m so annoying maybe I should go?”

“Don’t you fucking dare,” Paige warns breathlessly, head propped up against Azzi’s pillows. 

“That’s what I thought,” Azzi smirks, as she peppers kisses up Paige’s thighs, her right thumb lazily flickering against Paige’s clit. 

“You’re such a fucking tease,” Paige lets out a frustrated whine, “just fuck me already.”

Azzi bites down hard against Paige’s thigh, wanting to leave a mark in the one place no one would ever see it, before looking up at Paige, “whatever you want.”

Paige’s entire body writhes as Azzi fucks her tongue into Paige’s pussy, building pace with every thrust. One hand fists around the sheets, as the other moves to grab at Azzi’s head, trying to guide her in deeper. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck shit Azzi please,” Paige curses, eyes rolling into her skull, “just like that fuck.”

She’s so close, words becoming incoherent noises, thighs beginning to shake, when Azzi pulls her tongue off.

“What the fuck-” Paige almost yells but it turns into a groan when Azzi replaces her tongue with two fingers instead, “shit- FUCK.”

Azzi attaches her now-free lips to Paige’s clit and she can tell it’s too much. Paige’s back arches off the bed as her eyes go hazy. And then Azzi’s above her, fingers still rapidly pumping into Paige, as she places a delicate kiss against her lips. 

“Let go baby, I’ve got you,” Azzi whispers into Paige’s ear as the blonde closes her eyes, letting her orgasm wash all over her, “I’ve got you.”

Paige is still for a second, as Azzi slips her fingers out, continuing to press lazy open-mouthed kisses against her best friend’s neck. She squeals when she feels herself being flipped over, back hitting the mattress. 

“What was it you said?” Paige asks cheekily, as starts to unbutton Azzi’s jeans, “I showed you mine, now you have to show me yours.”

Azzi rolls her eyes, a laugh escaping her throat. Trust them to be dorks even in a moment like this. And then Paige attaches her lips to Azzi’s clit and the giggles turn into loud desperate moans. When she slips her fingers in, it’s clear Paige remembers exactly how to push Azzi over the edge. 

“So fucking perfect,” Paige whispers from between her legs, eyes looking up at a blissed-out Azzi with awe, “you’re so fucking perfect.”

“That’s you,” Azzi manages to get out in between bated breaths, before her own orgasm hits her, and Paige’s name waterfalls out of her lips like a prayer. 

There’s no more words after that, only shared looks and soft grins as they make their way into the en-suite bathroom, lazily washing each other between stolen kisses. They fall asleep, wrapped in each other's arms with matching content smiles. 

***

Azzi wakes up alone the next morning. There’s no scribbled note, or even a text. In fact there’s really no proof that Paige was ever there to begin with, except for the ghost of Paige’s touch written all over Azzi’s skin. For a second, Azzi sits in bed and stares out her window. There's a thunderstorm brewing outside (it's not peaceful anywhere when it storms). She watches the raindrops slide down one by one and decides that, that’s the only water that’ll fall today because she won’t shed a single tear and she won’t cry and she most definitely won’t sob. 

She replies to Zoe’s i miss you text with a me too she doesn’t mean.

And then she gets up and goes on with her day. 

[kpop---scenarios]

Maniac (4)

Pairing: Hyunjin x Reader x Minho

Warning: Language etc

Word Count: 1.7k

Taglist: @oddracha @hyunjinhoexxx @baby-stay92 @felixleftchickennugget @skzooluvr @elzz123 @kayleefriedchicken @yaorzu-blog @rylea08 @iovecb97 @skzdust @anylady-fics @ilovemyapopbaby @bangchansleftbutcheek

@vietjeb @gloriajovicc

Everything Taglist: @piscesrising01 @kisses-too-the-moon @dwaekkiiracha @rylea08 @imperfectlyperfectprincess1 @satosugu4l @lordmaahes-nsc @sailorkoss @minh0scat @pixie0627 @50-husbands @jinnies-muse @joyofbebbanburg @number1jeonginstan @jisunglyricist @ambersnowxxx

@wife2straykids @silly250 @tsunderelino @1810cl @anskiiz

@ayyonoona @31maze13

Previous Chapters

“Good morning.” You hear a whisper from beside you. The voice sounded familiar - almost like Hyunjin. You smile at the thought of his whispering sweet nothings into your ear to wake you up. You slowly open up one eye, startled at the sight of Wonho's face so close to yours.

“What the fuck.” You gasp, smacking his shoulder, making him laugh.

“Get up you lazy fuck. Your dad wanted me to let you know that you're going out with Minho tonight.” He tells you. Instantly your brain races back to your first date with him and how chaotic and terrifying it was. Even though you had forgiven him, your anxiety flared up a little bit at the thought of something else happening again.

“What time will he be here?” You ask, stretching your body in bed.

“He's got a whole thing planned apparently. So like an hour?” Wonho says, glancing at his watch.

“What time is it?” You ask.

“11am.”

“Fuck!” You yell, scrambling out of bed to start getting ready. “Get out you perv, I'm getting dressed!”

Wonho chuckles as he leaves your room, leaving you to pick out your perfect outfit and do your make up as quick as you can. With this being a day date, you assumed you didn't need to dress fancy. You slipped on a pair of leggings with a cute top and laced up your sneakers. For your makeup you had decided to do a neutral easy look, almost effortless.

“Y/N!” Your dad yells up to you, just as you finished your look. You looked at yourself in the mirror and began second guessing your outfit. You weren't sure why you had thought Minho would be casual, there was nothing about him that screamed ‘I am a casual man.’

“Minho.” You call from the top of the stairs.

“Yes?” He chuckles.

“I don't know how to dress for a day date…can you let me know what we're doing?” You ask.

“Just come down, I've got everything covered.” He says. You take a deep breath and walk down the stairs to your smiling father and a smiling Minho. “You look gorgeous.” He says, offering you his arm.

You smile at him, taking his arm as your dad blows you a kiss, heading back to his office while the two of you make your way to Minho's car.

“You didn't drive today?” You ask, sliding into the backseat with him.

“Not today.” He says, nodding his head to his driver that you're both ready to go.

To say you were surprised was an understatement. The driver pulls the car up to a park where you see the nicest picnic set up for the two of you. Minho opens the door for you, taking your hand as the two of you walk over to the blanket spread across the grass. You both sit on the giant pillows that were there for you as you chat, drink and eat. It was quite a wonderful day that he had planned for you and you were extremely impressed with how sweet and funny he was throughout the whole thing. You felt a little silly for being so nervous for the date earlier, but even now with how great it had all been, you were still feeling slightly uneasy and you weren't sure why.

“Oh wow.” You giggle. “It's almost 6pm.”

“Time for part two!” He grins getting up, grabbing your hand and pulling you to the car. The driver opens the trunk of the car, revealing two clothing bags inside. Minho smiles at you, gesturing towards them both. “Pick one.” He says.

You laugh as you grab onto the first one, and you had no idea what was going to be inside of it. He points to two tents close by, telling you that he had arranged it for you to get changed in, while he took the other one. He really did think of everything it seemed. You both walk over to your tents to change, you hang up the bag on a hook and unzip to see a gorgeous dress hanging there with a pair of shoes. You quickly discard your clothes and get changed into a dress that fits you like a glove, slipping the heels on when you are done. You're in awe of how well he figured out your taste and size, but you also assumed he had some sort of help in all of this. He had to.

The two of you walk out of the tents at the same time, his jaw drops at the sight of you. He looked so handsome with his little bow tie on his suit.

“Wow.” He breathes. “Stunning.”

“Thank you.” You smile. “You look very handsome.” You say back.

“Maybe.” He chuckles. “But it’s nothing compared to you.”

He offers you his arm once again, walking with you back to the car, opening the door for you before getting into the car after. “You know where to go.” He says to the driver, glancing at you.

“Where are we going?” You ask.

“It's a surprise.” He replies, looking excited.

As the driver makes his way to wherever the two of you were going, Minho's phone dings. He pulls it from his pocket, looking intrigued by whatever message he had gotten.

“Um.” He begins. “We're gonna take a little detour.” He says. “Driver, head here instead.” He says, spewing off an address.

“Where is that?” You ask.

“I just have to do something quick.” He says, sitting back in his seat, biting his lip as he now looks out the window. He looked like he was up to something and it made you nervous.

A little bit later, the driver pulls into the parking lot of what looks like an abandoned warehouse.

“We won't be long, come on.” He says, getting out of the car without waiting for you this time. You try to keep up with him as he enters the building, walking a little too quickly for you. He walks through a door, sitting down at a table with a bunch of other men sitting around the circular table, cards in their hands and poker chips spewed around the table.

“Minho…” You start, looking around at all the terrifying men who were there. You were more than uncomfortable and uneasy. You really wanted to leave. Maybe if you called Hyunjin he would come and pick you up. You take out your phone, trying to get to your contacts when your phone is snatched from your hand.

“No phones.” the man says, shoving it into his pocket.

“I'm not playing.” You say.

“Don't care. No phones.” He says, crossing his arms, leaning against another door. You back away, leaning against the wall as you wait for Minho to be done. You hoped he would only play one round but you should have known better based on what Hyunjin told you and how addicted to gambling Minho was. This was as bad, if not worse than when he had the debt collectors coming after him and now you were here with him.

You just wanted to leave. Round after round, hour after hour, Minho lost and lost, then he won once and wanted to keep going and then lost again. This was it, you were done with this shit.

“Minho. Let's go now.” You say. He holds his hand up.”Shut up, Y/N.” He snaps. “You know I'm good for it, Mike.” He says to a man.

“No you're not.” Mike laughs. “Bet something else besides money.” He says, glancing at you. Minho turns to look at you. You try to back away but Minho grips onto your wrist, pulling you close.

“Y/N.” He smiles, almost as if he's introducing you to the men. “Her father is L/N F/N.” He says. “And she's a virgin.”

“What the fuck, Minho!?” You snap, pulling your wrist out of his grip.

“Okay.” Mike smiles. “Everyone bets a million. Minho bets the girl.”

“You can't be serious.” You gasp, looking at Minho with pleading eyes.

“Please, Y/N. I feel good about this round. I'll win, don't worry. I wouldn't have bet you if I wasn't confident.” He scoffs.

You weren't confident but what the hell were you supposed to do now? You have no phone and no chance of escaping. Your only hope was for Minho to win. You muttered multiple prayers to anyone you hoped would be listening to help you out of this situation that Minho had put you in, a bad one, again.

“No.” Minho whispers, looking back at you with wide eyes. He's dripping sweat as panic ensues.

“I win!” An older man laughs, throwing his cards down on the table. He gets up from his seat, walking towards you.

“Minho!” You scream. There was nowhere for you to go. You couldn't run. You could try and fight back but there was one of you and at least 10 men in the room.

“Come on bitch.” The man laughs, getting closer to you.

“Touch her, even a little bit and I will cut your fucking fingers off and shove them down your throat.” You hear. Tears roll down your cheeks as you turn to look, seeing Hyunjin leaning against the door frame. “Come here, princess.” He says, walking over to you, wrapping his arms around you. The feeling of instant relief washed over you the moment you were in his arms.

He releases you, putting you behind him as he looks at Minho. “This is your idea of a second chance?” He scoffs. “Putting her in fucking danger, again?”

“I swear Hyunjin, I thought I had it!” Minho says trying to justify his actions.

“You always think you have it. You know, I really wanted to believe you'd change but that's never going to happen is it? Not as long as people keep bailing you out.”

“My father won't anymore. You know that. I swear I won't do it anymore. I won't gamble. I never would have let any of them take Y/N.” Minho yells.

“What were you gonna fucking do? She shouldn't have been here in the first fucking place! This is fucking done.” Hyunjin motions between you and Minho. “You can't be trusted. I'm not saving your ass this time either.” He finishes, guiding you towards the door, his hand resting on your lower back.

“This isn't fucking over!” Minho yells from the room. It felt pretty over to you and you wanted it to stay that way, but nothing ever works out like that.

[cindyss]

teacher tom 😍

• - MY GOOD GIRL - •

PAIRING(S): prof tom riddle x student fem. reader

WARNING(S): jealousy, smut, teacher x student, extreme dominance, age gap, pet names during sex.

SUMMARY: you and prof. tom are in a secret relationship and when one of his students invites you to the yule ball in his own class, he doesn’t let that slide and punishes u for it.

A/N: thank you smm for all the support on my last post🫶, if anyone wants to be tagged in any of my posts lmk and if you have any ideas requests are open💗.

——————————————————

This year at Hogwarts, you got a new DADA teacher, as usual, professor tom. He was handsome, he was tall and muscular, his features all defined, one look at his eyes and you’d pass out. He was calm, but wise. He was smart and quiet unkind, he was never disrespectful though.

You couldn’t help but feel a bit of attraction toward the man, and to your surprise, you would always catch him glancing at you. He would also find ways to talk to you, after tests, during class, after class, whenever he saw you in the hallways, etc…

One time he asked you to stay after class, so you admitted your feelings and he kissed you. Thats how you got in a 4 month relationship with your DADA professor, however, you couldn’t tell anyone because he was a 24 year old Slytherin professor, and you were a 7th year Gryffindor student.

You get to class early today, your last one, defense against the dark arts (DADA), and to your surprise, ur early. You take a seat next to Hermione and Cormac walks up to you.

He had a big crush on you, and everyone in the school pretty much was aware of it, students, professors, all of them.

“Hii pretty girl” he spoke with a grin. “Heyy” you reply back nicely. “So the yule ball is coming around, and if you don’t have anyone to take you, i am more than happy to take you.” he said. “Of course Cormac, I’ll definitely think about it” you smile at him. “alright beautiful” he smiles back then he coughs.

Then he coughs again, and again, and again, and again, and he’s choking! He’s on his knees, coughing hysterically. Everyone gathers around him trying to stop the cough and as your eyes dart around the room, you find professor tom stood at the door, mumbling something, he was the one doing this!

You had to make it stop, “Professor!” you call out. “Help him, he just began choking” just then, Cormac stops choking and tom sprints across the room to him. He kneels down next to him, “just take him to the medical wing, he’ll be fine” this man was insane.

Just then, Neville and Ron help take him out of the classroom and the lesson begins. The whole time, your bf doesn’t look at you at all. Was he avoiding you?

Class finishes and you decide you wanted to talk to tom about this. You were the only student who knew where his room was so you decided to go and speak to him later tonight. The time came around and you got going. The halls of Hogwarts were quiet and empty at this time, dark and silent.

You arrived and knocked on the door, he opened the door and his eyes widened at your figure. “Why did you come here?” he asks. “We need to talk” you reply as you step in the room.

“WHAT THE FUCK WAS TODAY?? ARE YOU OUT OF UR MIND?? WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT TO THE POOR GUY, HE WAS STRUGGLING!” You speak, scream is more like it. “He fucking asked my girl to go to the yule ball with him.” He states.

“He doesn’t know we’re together!”. you point out. “The only person you’re going to the yule ball with is Neville!” “My cousin, seriously?” “Yes and i don’t want anyone else coming near you within a 50 mile radius or i will rip their intestines out one by one.” he’s still speaking calmly, he never shouts, never.

“Fuckk.. why would you even say you’d think about it beautiful, don’t you know ur mine?” He gets closer. “Im gonna have to punish you.” He then places his hand on ur waist and pulls you in. He kisses you hungrily and slips his tongue inside, fighting with urs for dominance.

You wrap ur arms around his neck as the kiss deepens, he then picks you up bridal style and carries you to the bed. “Im gonna fuck this tight little pussy till you can’t walk, till everyone in Hogwarts hears my name, till Cormac learns to not touch whats not his.”

Just then, he begins removing your shirt as you stood in front of his bed. He takes his time, one by one, he removes your bra, pants, then panties.

He then pulls you in for another kiss and makes you sit on the bed, he kneels between ur legs, and he begins trailing kisses down your collarbone until reaching your breasts. He begins pleasuring both of them, starting with your left breasts. He leaves kisses all around your breast and then starts sucking on your tit.

He sucks hard, twirling his tongue around ur tit, cupping your other breast in his hand. He then moves to your other side, pleasuring it similarly. He cups the left one and pinches your tit between his fingers. You let out different sounds and moans of pleasure, loosing urself to the heat of the moment.

After he’s done, he pushes you further on the bed and he spreads ur legs, “now, tell me, whose wet pussy is this for?” he questions. “Y-yy-yours, tommy.” “Thats right, now let me show you why it’s wet, for me.”

He immediately dives in like a starved man and starts eating you out. He licks ur folds, twirling his tongue, pleasuring you well, very well.

You grab his hair, tugging at it. “Tommy, im so close,” you admit. He mumbles a quick mhmm into ur pussy and it sends shivers down ur spine. That was ur limit, you slam your hand on ur mouth, stopping urself from screaming, as you come into his mouth.

He smiles into ur pussy and swallows all you have to give, he then licks you clean before pushing two fingers in without any warning. You moan at the feeling and he immediately begins moving his fingers inside you, slowly.

He then adds a third finger and starts speeding his movement, “you will not go to the ball with anyone but neville, do u understand me.” you nod in response which he doesn’t approve of.

“Use your words darling” “i.. i won- i wont go to the ball with anyone b..but Neville” “my good girl” he says before kissing you again. This time it’s slow yet still hungry, full of lust. “You have another one in you, don’t you?” You nod and once again he sighs in disappointment. “Use ur words love” “I d.. do” you answer.

He then proceeds to speed his movement and you come for the second time tonight. He removes his fingers and shows you ur cum on his fingers before licking them clean.

You get up to the bathroom to clean urself before returning back to ur dorm. You could hardly walk, but once you got there, you turn the hot water on and jump in the shower.

A few seconds later, tom walks in with you, already stripped out of his clothes. You turn to face him and smile at him. Once he steps in, he speaks “wait here pretty girl, i said im gonna fuck u till u cant walk, till everyone hears my name, till Cormac understands to not touch whats not his, i don’t think I’ve done that yet, have i?”.

You shake ur head at him and he makes you face the wall. You feel him get closer and he breathes next to your neck, heat floods ur body as you feel his breath.

“Now listen to me, im gonna fuck you real good, but im going to need you to beg me for it.” he whispered. He then lines his throbbing, hard cock with ur entrance and starts kissing you. The kiss is heated and slow, ur tongues fighting for dominance.

“Come on riddle..” you say between kisses. “Come on what?” he teases. “Fff.. fuck me tommy please. I need you inside me, now!” “One more time beautiful.” “Fuck tom, get inside me now!” You arch ur back a bit, and to that, he smacks ur ass before pushing in you.

“Fucking brat” he spoke as he sped his movements. You cover ur mouth, blocking any sounds from leaving it when tom removes it. “I wanna hear all the pretty noises you make when i fuck you like a little whore.” To that you moan which makes him go even faster.

“Tommy.. can i c-cum p-p-p-please?” “Your third time tonight? Impressive darling, go ahead.” He speeds his thrusting, and grabs the shower head, he turns it on and he points it toward ur pussy and he rubs circles around your clit.

Just like that, you scream as you come, your nails piercing tom’s skin. “Fucking hell, doll” you both chuckled.

You later finished ur shower and ran back to ur dorm as u realized it was past curfew already.

[spider-biter]

Head cannons abt the moon boys for the soul <3 🌙🌙🌙

A/N: I’ve been stuck with this in my head for the past 4 days.…. I LOVE THEM SO MUCH!!!! Also thank you for correcting my misspelling of mierda as Mérida 😭😭😭 embarrassing 😳

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ◯ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺⋆⁺ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

- Steven loves old vintage things, he often wonders into antique stores to just “look around”

- he spends 50 dollars.

- Jake cannot stand waiting. man is literally impatient AF

- “15 minutes till the next train???! Mierda, let’s just fucking walk”

- cooking for him is his love language

- he will literally sob on the inside if you even show interest in his cultural food

- Marc is the same way

- one time you made him Rugelach and he was a MESS

- “baby it’s not even that good-“ “ITS AMAZING AND I LOVE IT AND- AND I LOVE YOU-“ “ok”

- Steven loves that you know so much about their cultures and interests

- he also appreciates how you avoid meat when he’s fronting

- when you first ordered a tofu taco on a date with him he immediately felt guilty, like he was pressuring you or something

- “love- no it’s ok! you can eat meat I don’t care!”

- “darling, if this is important to you then it is important to me. plus tofu is literally the best so it’s no problem! :)”

- oml he is going to COLLAPSE

- they always appreciate that you know how to comfort them whenever they are triggered or have a nightmare

- Steven needs to be grounded, so you take his hands and hold him close to you. Rubbing circles on his back, telling him that you’re right here, it’s ok, you’re fine. he often falls asleep with his head on your chest with your hands in his hair

- Marc fluctuates between quiet dissociation and physical panic

- when he’s quiet you make sure to interact. asking him questions like how was your day, do you want tea, how many sugars, any cream? just so he is forced to stay as much out of his head as he can

- (even though you can probably make his favorite tea ((thank you stevens Brit influence)) blindfolded)

- if it’s physical it’s a lot harder. You know that Marc would probably sink deeper if he ever accidentally hurt you so you just try to make him look at you. The 5-4-3-2-1 rule works best to get him out of it. He usually goes quiet after one, staring into nothing. Usually you just kind of sit near and around him, trying to get him back to the present (Think of that one scene in the asylum where he just looks exhausted)

- Jake just needs his space. You respect that. One of you normally leaves to give the other some space. You understand and respect that it’s not a you thing, just a ‘I think if I am touched or talked to I will literally fall over this edge that I am on’ thing.

- he normally apologizes (even though you told him it’s ok) and is super lovey dovey & touchey for the next couple of hours after

- speaking of touchey

- they all LOVE to hold you

- steven found out that holding hands with you and swinging them back and forth dramatically makes you giggle

- especially if he skips with you while doing it (he has done it twice and both times you felt your heart explode with love!)

- he loves holding your hand, rubbing circles on the back of your palm to calm each other down

- and whenever you get up in the middle of the night to pull him out of his studies/work he softly kisses your knuckles as an apology, whispering things in French

- LORD

- you guys also rest against each others foreheads in moments of silence, just enjoying the closeness of your love

- Jake is a spinner!

- he’ll grab your arm and immediately spin you around, no matter what you’re doing.

- you always scream out of surprise even though he’s done this forever

- he also loves to dip you

- “no need to be scared mi corazón, I’ll never drop you 😤💪❤️” 🤨🤨 “what about that one time at-” “shhhh mi vida no es importante”

- Jake loves having his hands on you in a “mine” way

- but you do the exact same for him

- but he likes to come up behind you and run his hands all over your body while kissing your jawline. “So lovely” “so beautiful” “y todo mío” (that last one made your knees jelly)

- Marc has such an obsession with physical touch

- for the first 6-8 months, he was really scared of touching you. he never got physical love as a child and was always scared he’d break you because of it

- but one day he fell asleep on your shoulder during a movie you guys were watching

- and damn. The peace he felt was similar to how he felt in the field of reeds tbh

- ANYWAYS

- one day you both started just hooking arms with the other and skipping around in a circle

- it’s a cowboy jig

- yeehaw

- Marc also is obsessed with giving you piggyback rides, even if you are scared AS HELL!

- yes Marc Spector has run with a fully grown adult on his back yelling “MARC WHAT THE FUCK?” In Central Park. what abt it

- he loves to let you rest your head on his shoulder.

- he’s a big face guy??? Like he brushes away hair, pecks your cheeks, wipes away tears.

- he’s very gentle all the time and loves holding your cheek as you guys just stare at each other

- the mornings with them >>>

- who’s big and little spoon is a never ending battle

- with Steven it’s very quiet & reflective

- laying on each others chests, hands in each others hair, comforter pulled up to your neck, listening to the other breathing pattern and syncing it up! It’s all about the quiet company of love. The 2 of you comfortable for all of eternity

- Marc is similar but not

- it’s inches away from each other, still entangled with the other. you face each other and whisper silly nothings: I love you, I’ll do anything for you, we should do this for a date.

- You even boop his nose.

- he’s not a fan

- Jake loves being the big spoon but after hard days you make him little spoon so you can wrap around him <3

- but when he is big spoon??????

- his warm arms wrap around your midsection, keeping you in nirvana eternally. you both float in and out of consciousness, his head rests softly on yours, you nestle deeper into him, even though that’s literally scientifically impossible at this point. He loves how addicted you are to him

- he doesn’t even realize how addicted he is to you ;)

- it’s also passionate make out sessions, still sleepy and slightly sloppy, before he goes into the shower and you make him a coffee

- (getting out of the shower to be greeted by your coffee and you sitting at the counter just reading over the news on your phone??? it makes his heart literally collapse in on itself every. single. day.)

- speaking of passion

- you helped them all find things they’re passionate about

- you helped Steven get a better job at a different museum and he LOVES IT!!!

- it was pretty easy, Steven just had to be confident in his knowledge.

- sometimes you stop by on your lunch break and see Steven somehow getting a group of terrible and loud preteens absolutely invested in the story of Ra and Sekhement

- (passionately teaching a group of kids all about the ancient relics of the past is a turn on you never knew you had)

- you helped Marc get involved with the INTERPOL force in London, so he can occasionally be on call, and help people in a legal way

- he likes it bc it gives him something to do & makes the world a better place

- he helps take down bad guys & save kids. He gets to be the person he always wished would come and save him when he was younger.

- it makes you sob

- but!

- Jake is happy as long as he’s with you but he’s actually super into watching old telenovelas

- you guys make a whole day out of it

- and the 2 of you won’t stop acting out the most dramatic scenes of it

- “TU ES MI HIJO???” “Si, madre. También soy tu ABUELO EN EL FUTURO!!!” *gasp*

- Steven and Marc are OVER IT!!

- speaking of Marc, you always celebrate Rosh Hashanah & other important Jewish holidays with him

- you cook together, him teaching you these generational meals and you making sure he doesn’t burn down the entire kitchen

- during Yom Kippur you help him fast & reflect with him

- keeping him grounded and not just letting him shit on himself endlessly for 25 hours?? telling him that “it’s about repenting and doing it better this year”???? Literally life saving for him

- and to have someone to help him with his spirituality is so important to him

- like… beyond words

- idk where to put this at but onetime you drove with Jake in the passenger

- he is TRAUMATIZED

- like just imagine a grown ass man screaming as you go 50 mph down the London bridge

- “eres un pequeño demonito de la velocidad. me asustas” (you’re a little speed demon (lovingly). You scare me)

- Steven was LIVING

- “STEVEN IF YOU DONT STOP CHEERING THEM ON-“

- “LOVE GO FASTER!!”

- yes Steven is also a little speed demon

- it’s cannon idc

- if you can’t already tell, they love you so much

- holding you after a bad day, comforting your anxieties, feeding the ducks in the pond

- “darling he’s a duck-“ “I don’t care! He’s staring at me like I did something! I’m innocent Marc I swear!” “I- I know babe- it’s- it’s a duck???”

- (This conversation and never ending confusion on Marc’s part goes on for another 15 minutes)

- they cherish you like no one else

- they would take a bullet for you without even a second thought and you would for them too

- (where is my moon system holding dying lover or lover holding dying system fic already??)

- anyways

- they love you the most in the world

- and tbh??? You do too.

- “I love you the most”

- “I love you the mostest”

[29121996]

.

[elcpsstuff]

Chaotic Black Friday shopping with Conrad 💕

This too, Please?

a/n: sorry i’ve been so inactive but here’s this little thing. idk what’s going on but it’s very funny so enjoy:)

—

“Please?”

Conrad shakes his head at you. “Baby, just shop online. the stores are a mess.”

You crawl on top of him, falling into his lap softly. “You don’t understand. Belly just told me there was that sweater i’ve been eyeing from Aritzia for MONTHS in store! She went with Jere earlier.”

Conrad gives you a soft smile, “no.”

“Connie!” You whine.

“Baby!” He mocks you which earns him a kick in the leg. He winces. “Hey! what the heck!”

“If you take me i’ll love you forever?”

He smirks, “you already do.”

“Nope. Not anymore.” You go to get up but Conrad pulls you back into his lap.

“Don’t be mean. I want to stay here with you and cuddle all day. that’s all.”

Your heart melts at the boy in front of you, but Belly’s words rang through your ears. You had to stay focused. “Later. I promise we can cuddle and do nothing all night. Okay?”

Conrad sighs, “I love you baby, but you drive me crazy.”

So here you were, rushing to the store to get the sweater that caused all this drama. It turns out the sweater was sold when you got there, but they had some stock online which you ordered right away as soon as you left the store.

You thought Conrad was going to want to go home, but you were surprised when he dragged you into target.

“What the fuck are we doing in target on black Friday, Conrad?”

He smirks, “Okay so there was this like, comforter bean thing on TikTok everybody wears and—”

“omg. the comfy! you want one of those?”

He pulls you in and gives you a quick kiss on the forehead. “For both of us. you would look so adorable in it.”

You narrow your eyes at him, “I am not a barbie doll Conrad Fisher.”

“No. but you are the cutest thing ever.”

Oh he’s got you. That’s how you get the girl all right.

You and Conrad got 2 comfys and instead of going home you got a little side tracked, buying everything on sale. Chips, makeup and while Conrad got tons of blankets.

You were carrying so many bags home, at least 4 each when you walked back into the summer house. You and Conrad were moving in together after this summer. Since you both graduated college this past may, you needed to start prepping for your apartment.

Jeremiah and Belly were side eyeing you two so hard and Belly couldn’t help but laugh when she saw you and Conrad frantically bringing everything inside.

“There is no way you got Conrad to go black Friday shopping. Let alone enjoy it.” Jeremiah yells.

“Jeremiah!” Belly yells at him and slaps his hand. All that does is earn her a kiss.

“Yeah well,” Conrad begins. “Y/n is officially my shopping buddy.”

You roll your eyes, “Wasn’t I that already?”

“You were my girl. Now your my girl and my shopping buddy.” You go to protest but Conrad picks you up and leaves chast kisses down your neck. Jeremiah and Belly look knowing as you both go upstairs to pursue some.. extra curricular activities.

You can bring the bags up later. You had both worked hard.

—

Something short but cute. Happy 50% off week!

[ecstasyhighway]

You & I | e. williams

chapter ii

CW: abby cheats on reader 😓 uhhhh there is no smut in this its really just a look into their lives kinda. Drinking and literally one mention of ellie being high. reader has her own friends who ive just given random ahh names and the owner of the music store ellie works at is mentioned. ermmm i think thats it if i missed anything pls lmk.

a/n: please understand that i am not a professional writer.. shit might be wrong (grammer, punctuation ect) its not really proofread but its been put through grammarly so yehah enjoysies i guess

MEN DNI I WILL FIND YOU.

wc: 2.3k ish

prologue. ch 1.

You wake up to the sun shining into your room, your phone going off relentlessly, “Man what the- who is texting me” You pick up your phone,

*45 missed messages from Abby*

‘baby cmon’

‘It was a mistake, I'm sorry’

‘y/n you are doin way too much rn just pick up baby please’

You roll your eyes at her pleads. She cheated on you with one of your best friends and she just expects you to forgive her? Hell no! She betrayed your trust. You put your phone on Do Not Disturb and began to get ready to shower.

‘Where the fuck is my speaker..’ you think to yourself as you look through your apartment, making a mess of clothes on the floor. You stop and think back to the last time you used it.. Last night! you go to your kitchen and sure enough there it is, right on the counter. You grab it and go to your bathroom, put on a playlist, and get in the shower.

Ellie couldn’t sleep, she was just too embarrassed, she still could not believe she was touching herself out in public. She thought she was cringe as fuck for that.. Whatever she has to get ready for work. She does a quick sniff test ‘Good enough’ she gets into her car and heads to the shop.

She gets to the store and notices that one of the lights on the sign has gone out. She grabs her phone out of her pocket and sends a text to Mrs. Alden,

‘Good morning Mrs. Alden, I just got to the shop and noticed that one of the lights that are on the sign has gone out. Would you like me to call someone?’

‘Good Morning Ellie. Yes, you can call someone. I will be stopping by at around 4 pm. I need to pick up something and I need to pay the bills. I will see you later Ellie.’

*Ellie liked a message*

Ellie heads inside and gets the store ready to be opened, she calls a repair company to schedule an appointment to get the light fixed. She goes to the back to do a quick restock.

“Ellie! I'm here, do you need anything?” Jesse yells from the other room, Ellie flinches at the sound of his voice and walks to where he was

“Fuck, Jesse you scared me, I dunno maybe? Not right now I don’t think. The electrician is coming to fix a light on the sign at like 12, but I might not be here so will you be able to let him in and show him which light it is? Oh also Mrs. Alden is coming around 4 so be respectful she's old and she will fire you if you are just the slightest bit disrespectful”

Jesse gives her a nod indicating that he understands,

Ellie goes to her little music room to rest as the store doesn't open until 10 and it's only 8 right now. She is nervous. As much as she loves Mrs. Alden, she scares the shit out of Ellie, she's quite old and mean, and she never comes to the shop…like ever.

Whitney Alden Is the owner of ‘Musemoon’, she started the shop in 1999 and it's been her baby ever since, she met Ellie when she was 10 and took her in, she helped Ellie understand music better and form a connection with it. Ellie is terrified of Mrs. Alden, why? Don't ask, she just is.

So Alden coming to the shop is very stressful for Ellie as she is the manager and is next in line to own the store when Whitney dies. Everything has to be perfect, no album out of place, no dust on the record players. Oh, and Ellie’s music room needs to be spick and span. So before Ellie takes a little nap she sets two alarms, one for 9:50 and another for 3:00.

The sound of the alarm jolts Ellie out of her sleep. She looks at the time, it’s 9:55, enough time for her to open up the store and do some inventory.

“Jessie, I'm gonna open up shop and do some inventory before it gets too busy in here alright”

“Okay”

The repair man had come to fix the light about 8 hours ago and Mrs. Alden left an hour ago. It’s currently 8 and Ellie is getting ready to leave, but Jessie stops her

“Hey, Ellie, Dina and I were going to go to this bar downtown with a couple of friends, you wanna come?”

“uhhh yeah, who all is gonna be there?”

“Me, Dina, Tara, Cat, Syd-”

“I’m sorry, Cat?” Ellie looked at him like he was stupid “Cat as in my ex? the girl who literally made me lose my shit for like half a year?”

“Yeah, but I thought ya’ll ended on good terms?”

“Jessie Jesus fuck of course we didn’t end on good terms I literally had to stop working for a while? She made me go insane, To her we ended on good terms but to me, she fucked me up.”

“sooooo that's a no to going to the bar?”

“no fuck you im going, I need a drink. Alden stressed the fuck out of me” She rolls her eyes playfully and gives him a lighthearted punch in the arm.

————————————

You get a call from Abby, she has been blowing your phone up all day. Why can’t she catch a hint, you’re pissed at her. You don’t want to talk to her. Ignoring the phone isn’t going to stop her. You need to talk to her. Face to face. ‘fuck’ you thought to yourself, you know if you pull up to her house and try to argue with her about this, all that's gonna happen is her hands in your pants fingering away the anger. No, you decided to stand your ground, you’re going to go to her house and talk to her like the adults you are. This will not end in hate fucking, you promise to yourself.

You get in your car and drive to her house, your phone still going off constantly. Once you get to her house your eyes fixate on a car. A car you’ve seen, shit a car you’ve rode in. What. The. Fuck. You walk to her front porch and bang on the door

“ABBY” you continue knocking but still no answer.

“ABBY MOTHER FUCKE- LET ME IN OR GOD SO HELP ME I WILL KICK YOUR DOOR DOWN”

The door swings open and you see Abby, she has a black muscle shirt on and some black and red basketball shorts. You can’t lie, she looks so fine.. But no you’re mad at her.

“Baby, baby..calm down we can talk abo-”

you cut her off mid-sentence and push past her and walk into her home. “Now why the fuck” you laugh a little in disbelief “Why the fuck is Lexi’s car in your driveway?”

“it's not what you think baby I promise”

you’re looking at her intensely, she’s bullshitting you right now,

“bullshit”

You begin to head to Abby’s room, hoping to god that it was really just a misunderstanding. But your stomach drops when she tries her hardest to stop you from going in there. You burst into her room and there you see it. Lexi Smith. Here in the flesh. Literally. She’s naked and in Abby’s bed.

“Are you fucking kidding me..?” Tears begin to swell in your eyes and your voice trembles. “are both of you being so serious right now? Lexi what? Abby, I'm used to you doing stupid shit like this. But Lexi? Really? fuck both of yall”

Lexi sits there, silent with nothing to say. You look at Abby, her arms are crossed and her head is down. You walk up to her. “Look at me,” you say sternly

She opens her eyes and looks into yours. Her eyes are looking into yours so gently, she thinks she's gonna get away with this. Not this time. You’re done. You can’t take this shit anymore.

You look in her eyes. Anger filled your senses, and before you could even process it, you slapped her, hard enough to leave a mark. “Don’t call my phone ever again. I'm done, Abby. I'm done with you” You storm off to your car, tears still in your eyes, you get into your car and just sit there. You finally let go of the anger and sadness that had just built up in your body. You try your hardest not to cry too much but it's already too late. You drive home still crying. You open the door to your apartment and dial Jillian’s number.

‘hello..?’

“Jilly”

‘sweetheart? what's wrong?’

“Can you comeover please”

‘of course my love’

You hang up the phone and lie on your couch feeling numb. Why, though? This isn’t the first time Abby’s cheated… Maybe it's because it's your best friend that she cheated on you with. You sob even harder thinking about it.

about 5 minutes pass when you hear your door unlock and open

“y/n? sweetie? It's Jill” She walks over to you confused

“what’s wrong?”

you sniff, “Abby.. a-nd Lexi” You hiccup slightly between words “they…she..” You can’t even get your words out without getting the urge to cry. But Jillian understood what you said. She just hugs you and you both sit there for a moment so you can calm yourself.

“how about we try to take your mind off them for now, let's go out! a bar, my treat, Marshall and Jean can come yeah?”

you nod at her offer. Marshall, Jean, and Jillian. The ones who have been there since day one. The ones that have never betrayed you.

Jillian tells you to go get dressed and that Jean and Marshall will be there in about an hour.

Going out feels like a chore to you, you really don’t want to leave but, Jillian always knows what's best for you so you oblige. Throwing on a beige sweater dress and some heels, you and her were ready to hit the town.

Once you both arrive at the bar, you spot Marshall and Jean, ready with open arms to talk about how they never really fucked with Lexi and how they all knew she was fake. Even though they were the ones who told you to become friends with her during your freshman year of college, but whatever you know they’re just saying what you want to hear, trying to lighten the mood.

You are about three shots into some alcohol Jill had ordered for the table when you see a familiar face. Where did you see this girl? She looks so familiar, you begin to think back a day or two but the alcohol in your system was clouding your memory. The music store, right what was her name

you were so lost in thought you didn’t even realize Jean was trying to get your attention

“Hellooo?? Earth to y/n? girl hello I'm trying to talk to you”

“shit my bad what's up”

Marshall chimes in “What were you thinking about babes? you were so out of it”

You look at him and giggle a little, “okay guys, just listen” you pause hoping you have their full undivided attention. “you see that auburn-haired girl over there” You point in her direction trying to be discreet. “I know her, I met her like yesterday at that music store I went to”

They all look “Girll what is her name?” Marshall asks, trying to get any type of information he's definitely going to look her up and do some digging for you.

“I honestly do not remember. I know it started with an E or an A. Elsie? Ally?..Ellie! it was Ellie”

“bitchhh you should go talk to her” Jean chimes in but Jillian objects

“I really don’t think you should, you had a rough day and you’re already tipsy”

Jean and Marshall look at her angrily, “which is exactly why she should go talk to her. It might take her mind off of everything” Marshall says, trying to persuade her.

Jillian just throws her hands up in defeat. “Do whatever makes you happy y/n, just know I don’t think this is a good idea”

You consider just listening to her and not even taking the chance, but after some more encouraging words from Marshall and Jean, you give in, taking another shot before walking to her table.

You walk over to her, she’s sitting there so uninterested in what's happening around her.

“Hey?” you say softly trying not to startle her, She looks up at you, her eyes glossy and slightly red, she’s high..

“oh shit hey, you’re umm that girl from yesterday, y/n right?”

“yes, I am, anndd you’re Ellie right?”

she nods and looks into your eyes, “I just wanted to say hi, I saw you from across the room”

She smiles slightly “Well hey”

You realize you’ve been just standing there awkwardly, not saying anything

“Sorry I just wanted to say hi, I’ll get out of your hair now, again so sorry for bothering you”

She looks you up and down, “noo you are not bothering me if anything you’re saving me from them” She laughs and looks at her friends who are talking amongst themselves. You smile and giggle at her, you are very embarrassed,

“You want a drink?” She asks as she gets up from her seat and puts out her hand for you to take. You accept her offer and take her hand, she leads you to the bar and orders two whiskey sours

——————————

OH! and this was inspired by “The Thought Of You” by @ap3arll !!

🏷️ @vqxen @shiimer @bready101