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#I’m like half convinced this happens in the movie
katerina-marie · 3 days
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Bathtub Confession (Eres Tú)
Sukuna x Reader
Part 3 to this
The one where you learn that certain confessions don't always have to be romantic, but others certainly do.
Word Count: 5.7k
Notes: Part 3 of my Sukuna x Reader celebrity!au. Takes place directly after part two. Song of inspiration: Eres Tú by Carla Morrison
Content: bandmember Sukuna x actor female Reader (referred to as such, but left descriptively vague), no y/n, manager Nanami, bodyguard Toji, actor Gojo, found family vibes, some angst, fluff, crack, humor, out of character Sukuna (he's so fluffy), suggestive, maybe lightly explicit, tho no sex actually occurs just yet (sorry), so please avoid accordingly.
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“Should I change my name?”
A beat of silence. A drop of water.
“No.”
“Should I get a wig?”
Another beat of silence. A clink of glass on tile.
“No.” 
“Should I flee the country?”
A minuscule half second of silence.
“Not if you’re going to quit paying me,” Toji grumbled. 
His response made the frown on your face dip down further on your lips, and you rolled your head against the back of your porcelain tub to stare at the ceiling.
“Is that all you see me as?” you whined, “A paycheck?”
“You want me to lie?” 
“That’s it, I’m going to drown myself.” 
That gets a long, heavy sigh from your bodyguard and you can hear him readjust himself on the chaise lounge seated in the middle of your expansive bathroom before he carries on.
“First off,” he grunts, “no you’re not. That would require me to pull your sad self naked from the tub, and we both know we don’t want that. Second…you know you’re not just a paycheck.” Toji goes quiet for a moment. “I’d like to think that we’ve become a sort of family over the last couple years, you, me, and Nanami. Shoot, even Megs too when he’s around.” 
His soft confession brings a smile to your face, and you turn your head to the right to look in his direction from behind a large mahogany privacy screen. It stands tall, wrapping just barely around the ends of your tub where your feet and head lay, keeping you securely tucked away from any prying eyes. It found its way there long ago, because this wasn’t the first time that Toji had played therapist from his dedicated chaise while you lounged in a hot bath and the two of you shared a bottle of wine. 
“Thank you,” you whispered to him, “I’m grateful you’re my friend…and my family.” 
“Don’t worry about it, I know you are. But don’t go on getting too upset or sentimental just because you’ve had a rough day. Things haven’t been that bad,” Toji said, and you groaned at the reminder.
After finally arriving home safely—no thanks to you—Toji immediately went into damage control mode and spent the afternoon fielding phone calls and text messages, though nothing too serious had been blown your way yet. 
You had received a none-too-pleased email from the producer of the movie you and Satoru were co-starring in, accusing you of sabotaging the release by not waiting to reveal your relationship with Sukuna until after the movie premiered in a few short months (as if he couldn’t tell that what happened today wasn’t by choice). Luckily, Satoru swooped in with his sweet-talking words and buttered the producer right back into promising extra money for a job well done. Though Satoru’s idea of fixing things was convincing the producer that the only premise that sold better than a classic love story was the angst of a good ol’ fashioned love triangle, and he was more than happy to play the jilted lover dead set on winning you back. You wondered what it must be like to live in such delusions. 
What really put the cherry on top of a bad day was the text you received from Sukuna shortly after arriving home. It wasn’t anything particularly worrisome, a straight to the point, “I’ll call you this evening, busy smoothing a couple things out, x,” but it had you in a fit nonetheless. After sending a quick affirmation back, you threw your phone across the couch in your living room and flung yourself onto the nearest surface to bemoan your miserable existence. Toji was not amused when that nearest surface happened to be his chest, and he only offered you five minutes of soaking his shirt with snot and tears before he drug you upstairs to your bedroom, turned on the hot water to your tub, and shoved you into the bathroom with a promise to return with wine if you quieted down for just a second. 
So here you were, an hour later, soaking under a mountain of peppermint scented bubbles while you toed at the hot water handle at the end of the tub. 
“You think if I begged hard enough Nanami would let me come stay with him for the rest of his vacation? I’m afraid I’m in need of a tropical escape,” you told Toji, already calculating in your head how quickly you could pack your bags and be on the next plane to Malaysia. 
Toji chuckled, “No, I don’t think he would, considering he refused to tell us anything more about his trip other than what country he’d be in and when he’d be back. You showing up would take seven years off his life. Add three more if he opens up the door to you sobbing like you’ve been all day. Besides, running away to another country just because you’re afraid to talk to your boyfriend is a cowardly move.” 
You ‘tsked’ at him for calling you out on poor behavior and slouched further down into the hot water in shame-filled defeat. Instead of wallowing in it further though, you popped your ankles up on the rim of the tub, tossed your arms back to hang behind your head, and clapped twice to get Toji’s attention.
“Another glass of wine, please,” you mocked in as snobby an accent as you could manage.
“What do you take me as? I’m not your damn butler,” he complained, but you could hear the quick successive cracking of his back as he stood up from the chaise and stretched. 
“Just one more and that’ll be it, I promise.” You considered what else could entice him into doing your bidding. “I’ll let you be done for the evening and take the day off tomorrow if you also bring me a plate of cheese and crackers, please.” 
Toji was silent before letting out a begrudging “fine” and shuffling out the door without another complaint. 
You marveled in the silence, nothing but the occasional lap of water as you adjusted yourself in the tub to break it. After a few minutes, however, you realized the absence of conversation was the perfect environment for your thoughts to run unhindered, and that was not something you cared to partake in at the given time. Trying to concentrate on anything else though was futile, and perhaps trying to wade through your own head for a few minutes would leave you feeling better when you chose to pointedly ignore it once your butler…ahem, Toji, returned with your snacks.
Besides falling on national television—and underneath Gojo Satoru nonetheless—you had a particularly difficult time deducing from yourself what exactly about the accidental revelation of your relationship with Sukuna caused you so much embarrassment. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to be associated with him or that you always intended for the relationship to remain secret until it had reached its course; your desire was quite the opposite, actually. It was a feeling best left to baser animals and bedroom activities, but the idea of staking a claim, proving that he belonged to you in a way, was not unappealing and not something you could talk your way out of thinking, especially with the world the two of you lived in. 
If you got down to it, the real problem lay in your unfortunate habit of caring what people thought. You didn’t want Sukuna to see you as childlike, only a few years younger than him in age but miles behind in maturity. You didn’t want him to view today’s incident as a misfortunate foreshadow into the “what if’s” of your relationship. Neither did you want the world looking at the two of you and questioning how exactly something like it came to be. Where Sukuna was all sharp angles and dark colors, suave nonchalance and carrying a presence that demanded to be seen, you felt painfully opposite. You wouldn’t self-deprecate and believe that you were unworthy of standing beside him, but just cognizant of how different you felt. More like something that could be just as appreciated, but more likely to be overlooked and favored over something brighter. A “mismatched pair” is what they would call you, something that struck you so vividly that the pressure in your chest increased ten-fold. You knew he would hear it, see it, be made aware of it, and while he may not agree right away, you wondered how long it would take for the sphere of influence to get to him too. The anticipatory grief (as your actual therapist called it, usually followed by anxiety) of waiting for someone you valued so much to realize that he had better options was enough to make you consider running away from the whole thing entirely. 
And that’s how you came back to scheming your departure from the country. If you hurried, you could probably towel off, pack a bag, and slip out the back before Toji realized (you wondered if the big oaf had decided to take a nap instead of bringing you snacks for how long it’d been since you last heard him). Surely Nanami wouldn’t abandon you in your time of need if you were wailing at him over the phone in the airport of a foreign country. 
But alas, you heard your bathroom door open, effectively cutting off any means of escape.
“It’s about time, Toji. What took you so long?” He neither spoke, nor took another step. “Eh, no matter. Bring me my snacks, please.” 
Footsteps continued again and before you could chastise Toji further, a voice spoke up from right behind your privacy screen. 
“Should I be concerned with the normalcy of your bodyguard attending to you while you’re naked in the bath?” 
The shock of hearing Sukuna’s voice caused you to jolt, sending your legs into the water with an unmistakable splash and leaving you to scurry back into a sitting position from where you had slipped dangerously close to submerging your whole head underwater. The indecency of it all would kill you if this conversation that was about to happen didn’t.
“I assure you,” you started, hoping you didn’t sound as wrecked as you felt, “it is not nearly as salacious as you made it out to be.” 
Sukuna hummed. “Really? Because it sounded as if you were expecting him, and when I ran into him downstairs he told me to tell you that he would be back up to deliver wine and cheese shortly. Sounds like a romantic evening to me if I’ve ever heard one.”
You were relieved to hear a hint of amusement in your boyfriend’s voice, but horrified at what he was saying. 
“Please stop implying things that’ll make me gag.” 
Sukuna chuckled, but was quiet for a minute until, “You have five seconds to tell me to stop before I move this privacy screen so we can talk face to face.” 
You shot upwards, looking around hurriedly as you tried to scrape the remaining bubbles in the tub to strategic places in order to maintain your dignity, though you realized a moment later that it was probably unnecessary. With a second left, you brushed tendrils of your hair away from your face and wiped your thumb across the top of your lip to remove any remnants of a wine stain from your skin. In the next, Sukuna was pushing aside the privacy screen and looking down at you with a blank—but not unkind—expression. You eyed him warily as he walked up to the edge of the tub and dropped a cushion from the chaise Toji was sitting on earlier to the floor. He settled himself down onto it and then placed his elbow on the edge of the tub so he could lean in close to you. 
“Hello,” you whispered to him, settling both your arms down next to his and then resting your head against them. A small smile crossed his face.
“Hello to you too.” 
You were surprised at the lack of tension in his face, no clenched jaw or heavy brow to be seen, and as you trailed your eyes further down his torso you noticed its absence there too. His shoulders were relaxed, and his chin was cupped in the hand propped up on the tub so he could gaze at you with those unnervingly observant eyes of his. You wished he’d been wearing a t-shirt instead of the thin navy turtleneck he currently had on so you could focus your stare on the black tattoos decorating his body. Aside from being intricate, and distracting, they always gave you something to look at when meeting his eyes felt like too much. 
The tenderness of Sukuna’s knuckles meeting your temple forced you to look back up at him, only to see that he was following the path his fingers were making over your skin. They grazed over your cheekbone, feathered down the bridge of your nose, and then were skimming over your mouth, his thumb catching ever so lightly on your bottom lip. His hand didn’t linger there, and it was quick to skate over your jaw before his thumb landed under your ear and the rest of his fingers tangled in your hair while his palm cupped your neck. With a slide of his other hand up your arm and down your back to press between your shoulder blades, Sukuna brought you close enough to him that he was able to reach the rest of the way over the tub and kiss you. His lips remained pressed against yours for a second or two before he broke away, hesitated, and then leaned in to do it once more, twice, and a third time. 
You were the one that put space between the two of you, sitting back in the water and drawing your knees to your chest. You desperately needed to inhale without smelling the crispness of his aftershave or the spiced warmth of his cologne, both of which were guilty of making your head spin. 
“You’re not mad at me?” you asked, breaking the silence before he had a chance to, before you lost your nerve. You watched as his head tilted slightly to one side, his expression a touch befuddled, but full of disbelief. 
“Why would I be mad at you?” He questioned slowly, moving himself to his knees on the cushion so he could go back to resting his arms on the tub. 
“I don’t see why you wouldn’t be,” you told him, your voice a bit sharp. “I inadvertently told anyone with access to the internet that we were dating, without even talking to you about it, and then proceeded to flee the scene like a coward instead of getting back out there to present myself as confident enough to own up to my mistakes. Not to mention the fall with Satoru right before. It’s embarrassing. The whole thing made us—me—look like a giant mess!” 
Your voice cracked on the last word, and you bit down on the inside of your cheek until you tasted iron. Sukuna looked pained, and he reached a hand out to play with your fingers as they sat at the top of your knees. 
“You’re not a mess,” he said, rubbing his thumb in small circles over the middle knuckle of one of your fingers, “and I’m not embarrassed either. I never intended to keep us a secret, and I’m not trying to implicate you when I say this, but I don’t think I ever implied doing so that evening.” 
“Well, yeah,” you huffed, the twinkle in his ochre-brown eyes and the mischievous grin on his face as he hinted to the night the two of you cemented your relationship into the category of “official” making your face get warm, “we didn’t do a whole lot of talking after that point.” 
You tried to jerk your hands out from under his to cover up your cheeks, but Sukuna was unrelenting in his hold, and you gave up before continuing on, “I know you never implied that you wanted to keep our relationship hidden, but that’s been the theme of whatever we’ve had going on these last ten months. We were sneaking around from the very beginning, we lied about it to Yuji and Choso, and then let’s not forget about the whole incident of being caught by Satoru,” you pointed out to him, feeling the slightest bit smug when he looked chagrined. 
“I apologized for that,” he reminded you, his voice tone faintly defensive. You squeezed his hand in comfort. 
“You did, and I’m not upset about it.” 
You took a deep breath and cast your eyes everywhere except Sukuna, taking in the details of your bathroom as you tried to muster the courage to share your insecurities with him. He never let his attention on you deviate, and between that and the heat of the water you had been in for almost two hours, you were beginning to feel lightheaded, and everything finally came rushing out of your mouth.
“I feel like we’re mismatched! It feels like everytime someone looks at us, they’re going to wonder why, like we don’t fit well together. And I’m not saying I believe that, or that you would believe that, and I know this whole thing sounds ridiculous because it is ridiculous, but it’s hard to get outside of my own head about this when I already love you so mu—,” 
The startled look on Sukuna’s face is what clued you in to the fact you had said something you had not intended to. You snapped your mouth shut with an audible click of your teeth and used your feet to push away from him and to the otherside of the tub, wrenching your hands out of his grasp. 
If someone asked why you never liked to talk about your feelings, this was why. Why the words that came out were never as eloquent—or as sane—as the thoughts in your head was something you’d pay so much money to figure out. And Kento was about to have no choice in letting you hide out with him for the rest of his vacation because you were no longer asking, and if he was interested in keeping his job he would do so without complaint. Even so, you considered that forcibly releasing Kento from the grip of a career that was so wrought with overtime would be another mercy for the overworked sal—,
“You know what I think,” Sukuna murmured, bringing you out of your own head to focus with rapt attention on the blissfully contented expression he wore. His fingers curled around the tops of your arms as he reached out to slide you back to his side of the tub, and when you were close enough again, he pushed his nose into the plushness of your cheek to nuzzle there affectionately. You were transfixed by a small tan freckle on the edge of his eyebrow that you somehow hadn’t noticed before.
“I think this whole time you’ve been so focused on pleasing everyone around you—which isn’t necessarily unadmirable, I promise—and treading with extreme care to take into consideration my feelings about our relationship that you haven’t noticed what’s been going on…or I haven’t been doing a very satisfactory job of making it apparent.” 
He said the last part more under his breath, but didn’t give you a chance to interject with an objection before he carried on, making intently sure your eyes were on his. “From the very beginning, even when all I had of you were fleeting touches and secret meetings in questionable places, I was always bound to fall in love with you.” 
You didn’t know what to say, what to think, and trying to wrap your head around the fact that what you considered to be one of the worst days of your life was ending with unintentional confessions of love in your bathtub wasn’t helping. So you did what you could and traced a finger down one of the tattoos under his eyes, hoping he would keep talking.
“We aren’t a mismatched pair,” he insisted, his eyelids fluttering slightly at your gentle touch, “I think we compliment each other quite well, so please, don’t try to hide or run away.” He fixed you with a pointed look that told you Toji had warned him of your current status as a flight risk, and you ducked your head slightly and in a way that you hope conveyed repentance.  
“Because you must know, I will always be chasing after you.”
You wasted no time in hurrying to crush your lips against his and throw your arms around his neck, because what else was there to do when words couldn’t suffice, other than to surrender to the melding of bodies? 
Sukuna reciprocated in fervor, breaking apart from you only to stand up from his place on his knees, and reached down to cup his hands under your bottom, lifting you out of the tub and securing your thighs around his hips while his mouth found yours again.
He seemed to care not that you were dripping water on the floor and soaking the front of his clothes from where you were pressed tightly against him. He stumbled back a couple steps until the back of his knees made contact with the chaise, and the two of you fell back onto it. Sukuna adjusted you to straddle his lap, his hands clasping at your hips while your hands scrambled down his back to pull up his shirt. You ground your pelvis down against him as he dropped his head to mouth at your neck, and the rough groan that elicited from his throat had you deciding that your bed was too far away to justify taking time to separate, and that the convenience of the chaise was worth going to the trouble of having to buy Toji a new one. You had no more than let the thought flutter through your head when an obnoxiously loud knock resounded through the bathroom. 
“You two haven’t drowned yet, have you?” 
Speak of the devil and he shall appear. 
Sukuna ripped his lips away from where he was sucking a mark into the space where your shoulder blended into your neck, and met your gaze with one that dared you to intervene. 
“Don’t even think about it,” he growled, using the grip he still had on your waist to hold you in place while he rolled his hips up into yours, and you prayed that the moan you let out wasn’t as loud as it sounded. Even if it was, you hoped Toji would get the hint and make himself scarce.
“Look, I get it,” your bodyguard remarked, sounding both amused and vaguely uncomfortable, “but it’s kinda, maybe important.” 
With both the mood dashed and your anxiety spiked again, you patted Sukuna on the shoulder in a bid to get him to let you slide off his lap. He rolled his eyes, exasperation—and lustful desperation—painted clearly on his face, but he helped you down without giving you any grief and grabbed a black fluffy robe from where it was draped over your privacy screen. He held it out so you could thread your arms through it, and then he proceeded to tie the belt securely around your waist. 
“Come in, Toji,” you called, moving to sit on the chaise while Sukuna came to stand at your back.
Your bodyguard waited a moment before opening the door, peeking his head around first and then sauntering in with his normal arrogance to lean against your bathroom counter just a couple feet in front of you.
“Glad to see that nobody’s drowned. There’s only one of you I’d be willing to do mouth-to-mouth on,” Toji joked, clearly proud of what he had come up with. You felt Sukuna’s hands come to rest on the tops of your shoulders, his fingertips digging into the muscles lightly. They relaxed when you bought one of your hands up to twine your fingers with his. 
“So, to what do we owe the interruption?” you asked. The amusement on Toji’s face vanished, and in its place came weariness. 
“I just got off the phone with Nanami, and—,” 
“You called him?!” You yelped, springing up from your seat, “I begged you not to!”
“Whoa, Whoa,” Toji cautioned, raising his hands up in a surrender, “easy with the accusations. He called me. He knew.” And before you could open your mouth to ask how, Toji’s expression darkened and his eyes flicked up over you to glare at Sukuna. “Uraume called him.” 
You whirled around to look at Sukuna, who—thankfully—seemed just as surprised by the news as you did. 
“I didn’t ask them to do that,” he assured you, then turned to Toji, “did Nanami say what they wanted?” 
“Just to talk about the whole situation, more or less. Nanami said they only talked for about ten minutes, but they’re planning to discuss things more when he comes back in five or six days.” Your bodyguard sighed and crossed his legs as he leaned back further against your counter. “He was nearly ready to hop on the first plane home, but I managed to convince him to finish his vacation. Told him it’d damn near break your heart if he came back early.” 
You plopped back down on the chaise, bone tired and completely ready for this whole day to be over. 
“Thank you, Toji. I’m sorry for jumping down your throat like that.” 
“Don’t sweat it, Princess,” he said, pulling a vaguely familiar set of keys out from his pocket and pushing himself off the counter to walk towards the door. “You two going to be okay if I head out? I have some errands to run and then I’ll probably crash at Megumi’s tonight instead of the staff quarters.” 
You nodded at him, sending him off with a wave before shifting to look back at Sukuna. 
“Stay with me?” you pleaded. He answered with a kiss to your hair, and then offered his arm so you could stand from the chaise. He followed after you into your bedroom, and the faint flutter of clothing made you glance back over your shoulder. Your heart began to race at the sight of his bare chest, tattoos displayed in full glory. You must have made some kind of noise because he looked up at you from where he was draping his shirt over the back of a lounging chair in the corner of your room.
“I hope you don’t mind,” he said sheepishly, “my clothes are wet.” 
You shook your head, tugging your bottom lip between your teeth as you watched the muscles in his back flex as he bent down to push his jeans to the floor, leaving him in simple grey underwear. There must have been something written all over your face as he began to walk towards you, for he was reaching out to pull you into him as soon as he got close enough.
“I’m tired, Sukuna,” you warned as he pressed your cheek to his chest, though you wondered if you could muster up the energy to continue where the two of you had left off in the bathroom. Surely he would make it worth your while. 
“I know,” he told you, voice light and good-natured, and he tightened his arms around you briefly before stepping back and nodding in the direction of your bed, “why don’t you go get comfortable. Toji left your snacks on your dresser. Want to finish them off before bed?” 
With a grateful nod, you turned to leap onto your bed, sitting down in the middle and wiggling with excitement as Sukuna came to join you. He sat the tray of food and wine in between the two of you and crossed his legs underneath himself before picking up a piece of cheese and offering it to you. You smiled in thanks and began to nibble on it while he surveyed his options. 
“Mhm,” you started, an errant thought popping into your head, “I’m assuming since Uraume knows that Yuji and Choso know now as well?” Sukuna raised his head slowly from where he had been studying the various snacks, and the hint of guilt on his face wasn’t confidence inspiring. 
“They do,” he drew out, observing you carefully, “they were both watching the interview with me.” 
You groaned as white-hot embarrassment flooded your body, and you fell back against your pillows, grabbing one to shove over your face to muffle the bitter laughter you couldn’t control. “What do they think?” 
“It’s nothing you should be worrying about,” Sukuna said, suddenly sitting by your head and lifting the pillow off your face to set it above your head, “you know they adore you. Choso was his normal, level-headed self. He’s happy for us. Yuji was just as ecstatic once he got his laughter under control, if a bit disappointed that we hadn’t told him.” Your boyfriend paused, his face darkening suddenly, and you watched with interest as a muscle feathered in his jaw. 
“What?” you asked, pushing yourself back into a sitting position and poking him in the arm to urge him to explain. He shook his head, clearly annoyed.
“You know what that little shit said immediately after? He thought that you and Gojo had been secretly dating and were waiting till after your movie was over to say anything.” 
Obnoxious laughter erupted from you, and you hurried to slap your hands over your mouth to try to conceal it as Sukuna’s face fell. 
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you rasped out in between giggles, unable to stop it as you watched Sukuna sit back against your pillows with a huff and a crossing of his arms. 
“The little idiot is just dense. And delusional. Anyone could see that you and the q-tip don’t have any real chemistry.” He sounded an awful lot like he was trying to convince himself of the truthfulness of his own statement. You wondered, affectionately, at which brother was a touch deluded. You were a fine actor, thank you very much. And you were about to open your mouth and say so when something ‘plinked’ off the window next to your bed. 
Strange. Your bedroom was on the second floor. 
Sukuna jerked his head up, all traces of humor forgotten, and the two of you listened for the noise again. 
Plink. 
“What the hell,” he muttered, pushing off the bed so he could go inspect the noise, “stay right there.” 
You appreciated the concern in his voice as he began to lift the window pane open, and he had just begun to stick his head out to look around when something small smacked him right between the eyes, sending him butt-first to the floor. 
“Sukuna!” you gasped, rushing over to kneel by his side and lift his hand from where he had it pressed to his forehead. You didn’t get a chance to fawn over him any further before he was up on his feet and striding to your bedroom door. 
“Be right back,” he growled, throwing the door open and cursing all the way down the stairs. 
You heard something land next to you on the floor, utterly perplexed when it turned out to be a rock from your flower beds. You got up and tiptoed over to the window, just barely lifting your head over the pane as to avoid becoming another victim of a flying projectile, then shot to your feet when you caught sight of a familiar white-haired costar outside beneath your window.
“Satoru!” You screeched, dumbfounded by his mere presence and the way he waved up at you, completely unbothered, “How in the world did you get through the gate?!”
“Hey! There you are!” He called, with a lazy grin on his face, “that’s not really important right now.” 
“I would disagree!” You yelled back down to him, making a mental note to have Toji go over all the security points around your property after his day off. “What are you doing here?” 
Satoru laughed sarcastically before the smile on his face suddenly disappeared, and he propped his hands up on his hips. “Where is my car?” 
No. Way. 
“You’ve got to be kidding me, Satoru.” 
“Nope! Give me back my car. It’s one of a kind!” 
You groaned, reaching up to massage the burgeoning headache you could feel at your temples. “Are you sure it’s not out there in the driveway? Toji left just a bit ago, so you shouldn’t be boxed in or—,” you cut off when the memory of your bodyguard twirling an unfamiliar set of his keys around his finger as he left your bathroom flashed across your memory.
Oh god, that absolute bastard. 
Satoru must have caught the horrified look on your face, as well as how you suddenly stopped talking after mentioning Toji because his face blanched even paler than usual, and his voice was two octaves higher in distress when he hollered back up at you.
“Does that criminal have my car?!” 
You deserved a vacation at this point. 
“I’ll call him in the morning, Satoru, I promise. And I’ll make sure he washes it for you or whatever you want, just come back tomorrow.” You hoped placating him with the prospect of torturing Toji would convince him to leave, but no, he still stood rooted to his spot down below. 
“As fun as that sounds,” he mocked back up at you, “I can’t.” 
“What do you mean you can’t?”
He looked a bit like a toddler caught with his hand somewhere it shouldn’t be. “Suguru dropped me off and then left in a hurry. He said he had something to do.” 
You couldn’t believe that the universe thought that pairing those two together in any capacity was worth the absolute chaos they unleashed on the poor, unsuspecting population. 
The slamming of your front door caught your attention, and you figured your boyfriend was about to make himself known.
“Look,” you sighed, backing away from the window slightly, “you can borrow one of my cars and swap it tomorrow when Toji brings yours.” You ignored Satoru’s protests and started to close the window. “Just apologize to Sukuna for hitting him between the eyes with a rock and he’ll open the garage for you.”
You caught the confusion on Satoru’s face, and just barely heard his panicked remark as you shut the window.
“Oh, fu—.”
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Whew, that one took it out of me, not gonna lie. Angst and I are not friends.
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Guys consider the following, their combo move
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baptismbaby · 7 months
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† GOD, FORGIVE ME PT. 2
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mean!ellie x innocent!reader a/n: posted this to ao3: baptismsbaby warnings: toxic!ellie, corruption, virgin!reader, praise, degrading, gaslighter!ellie, belittling, strap on (r!receiving), not rlly angsty but sorta? creds to elliesgalaxy on pinterest for the pic of ellie wc: 4k<3 part one here
You kneeled by your Bible and candles praying for forgiveness for what happened the previous night. Although you enjoyed your time with Ellie, you felt guilty for going against your own morals. You didn’t judge your friends for having premarital sex and you didn’t think you’d go to Hell over it. If so, everyone would burn and not reach paradise. But you always told yourself that you’d wait until you were married before having sex. You blamed the alcohol and the weed but a part of you believed you would’ve done it sober.
You stood up with a sigh, knowing you had promised to meet Dina for lunch to talk about Ellie’s apology. You spent all night coming up with a lie, which you also felt horrible about. You grabbed your bag and headed out the door. You greeted everyone with a smile as you walked past them. You were thankful that no one knew you drank and smoked the night before.
You walked in and almost ran face first into Seth, who glared down at you. “Sorry!” you apologized, stepping past him and heading towards the table where Dina was sitting.
“Hey you,” she greeted with a smile. “How are you feeling today?”
You sat down and set your bag in the chair next to you. “I woke up with a slight headache this morning but it went away after an hour. So I guess not too bad,” you responded.
“You’re a champ. I feel much better but I woke up feeling like complete shit.”
“I guess I didn’t drink enough to get a proper hangover.”
“Which means you didn’t get drunk enough. Gotta try again!”
“Absolutely not!” you disagreed. “I don’t think I wanna drink again. It tasted horrible!”
“That’s why you get a chaser,” said Dina. “Anyways, let’s get to why we’re here.”
She grabbed your wrist and looked deep into your eyes with a smirk. “Please tell me what Ellie said! I’m so shocked she apologized. She never admits when she’s in the wrong.”
“Well, she came up there and basically told me that she felt bad for making me upset. Even though she’s always doing that,” you laughed. “But she said she realized it went too far and that really, I’m not that bad or something like that. She promised she wouldn’t make fun of me again but who knows.”
“So, are you two gonna be friends?” Dina asked.
You shrugged. “I don’t know… she actually invited me over to watch a movie tonight but I think I’m gonna pass.”
“I think you should go. Ellie never invites people to her place unless it’s for a party or she’s bringing a girl home to fuck. Damn, she really feels bad then,” said Dina.
You couldn’t help but smile. Even though she wanted you to come over to fuck you again, you liked the idea of Dina believing Ellie was going out of her way to prove how sorry she was to you. You originally were going to come over and tell her you weren’t sure if y’all should continue seeing each other but it wouldn’t hurt convincing her to watch a movie. 
“Maybe I will go,” you stated. “I wouldn’t want things going back to how they were before.”
Dina peeked behind you and smiled. “Speak of the devil,” she said. You glanced back to see Ellie walking in. Her hair was messy, the top half of it tied up. She wore her gray hoodie still and baggy jeans. She looked over and made eye contact with you. She fixed her gaze on Dina and made her way to the table.
“Sup, Dina,” she said.
“Hey Ellie.”
Ellie looked back at you and nodded. She walked away and sat with a dark haired woman across the room. She smirked at you before starting a conversation with the girl. You frowned, holding your head up with her hand.
“Well, she didn’t say anything to you but she acknowledged you,” Dina uttered.
You couldn’t stop staring at Ellie and the girl. “Who is she sitting with?” you interrogated.
“That’s Cat. You know Cat, she just cut her hair so she’s a bit unrecognizable now.”
You felt a pain shoot through your stomach in jealousy. “Oh, her ex?”
“Yeah. I think they’re talking again. After you left the party, she came by and they disappeared for a couple minutes.”
You felt sick. Ellie used you and knew how much it meant to you to have sex. You got up quickly, the chair scraping across the floor loudly. Ellie turned her head from across the room, staring at you in confusion.
“I-I forgot,” you said. “I forgot I was supposed to help Sadie with something for bible study.”
Dina cocked an eyebrow at you. “Sadie’s on patrol?”
You smacked your face with your hand. “Shoot, you’re right. That’s next Saturday. Nevermind. I do need to go, though. My head is beginning to hurt again. I think I need a nap. It’s starting to get busy and all the chatter is killing me.”
“You alright?” asked Dina with concern.
“I’ll be okay. I’ll take a nap and feel better.”
“Let me know if you need anything. Oh, and come by tomorrow around noon! I wanna know what you and Ellie are gonna talk about tonight.”
You said nothing to Dina, spinning around to leave. As you walked out, you could see through the window that Ellie was at Dina’s table, leaned over and talking to her. You turned away and sped up so you could get home quickly. 
-
You stood at the mirror on your door, looking up and down at your outfit. You wore your normal baggy clothes so Ellie wouldn’t get any ideas when you went over to talk to her. You grabbed your coat as you exited the door and headed down the steps. Ellie was just two blocks over but you knew you would be freezing to death before you got there. You shoved the jacket on and started walking down the road, your thoughts running rampant as you figured out what’d you say. You couldn’t stop thinking about the way Ellie looked at Cat as they spoke. The more you thought about it, the more you thought about the way Ellie looked in your eyes as she hovered over you. You got close to Ellie’s home and shook those thoughts away, mumbling a quick prayer to yourself so you would stay strong and stay on track.
You knocked on Ellie’s door and waited for her to open it. You heard shuffling inside and then the knob turned, revealing Ellie in a tank top and jeans. You looked down at her exposed tattoo then back up at her face. She wore a shit-eating grin as she stepped aside to let you in. You brushed past her, throwing yourself on her couch in irritation.
“What’s wrong?” asked Ellie, coming to sit next to you. “Mad that I didn’t say hi earlier? Is that it?”
You scooted away from her and refused to look at her. “No,” you muttered.
“Aw, talk to me, pretty girl.” 
She reached out to grab your thigh but you smacked her hand away. You stood up and towered over Ellie, glaring at her sweet face. “I-I came here originally to tell you that maybe we shouldn’t have sex again!” you declared. Ellie leaned back, an amused look on her face. “I told myself that I would wait for marriage. My virginity was important to me, Ellie.”
“So… you’re upset that you had sex before being married?” questioned Ellie, still looking entertained about what you were saying.
“I was at first! I prayed and cried, begging God to forgive me. Mostly prayed that He’d forgive me for blaspheming Him. But now I feel stupid for losing my virginity to you,” you explained bitterly.
Ellie frowned. “You didn’t enjoy last night?” she asked in a mocking tone.
“You don’t want me. You’re talking to Cat again! And I’m angry that I was a fool to think you really wanted me. You just wanted in my pants so that you could say you made the good Christian girl go back on her morals, made her give herself to you completely! Just another thing to brag to your friends about.”
Ellie broke out into laughter. “This is about me having lunch with Cat?” She almost couldn’t believe it. You were jealous and assuming something was going on between her and Cat all because you saw them two together.
“Well, you’re sleeping with her again aren’t you?”
“No,” Ellie scoffed. “Who put that idea in your head anyway? Dina?”
“When I left the party, what happened?”
Ellie felt like she was being tested. She hated feeling that way. She only fucked you once and you were already testing her as if you two were in a relationship.
“Cat came by and we talked,” Ellie replied honestly.
“Dina said y’all left the party for a couple minutes.”
“Exactly! I wouldn’t even say a couple minutes, it was probably less than a minute.”
“What did she want?”
“Really? Why does it matter?”
“I can’t sleep with you if you’re sleeping with her too,” you said.
“You’re gonna feel really stupid when I tell you why we met up today.”
You groaned, frustrated that Ellie was making you feel this way. You wished you ghosted her instead. If she wanted her ex, fine. But she was an idiot to think she could still fuck you on the side.
“She wanted advice on how to ask out the girl she’s been seeing.”
Ellie watched as your face turned red in embarrassment.
“You feel stupid, huh?” she teased, smirking at your mortified expression.
“Don’t,” you scolded. “Don’t even… don’t go back to that or I’ll leave.”
“I’m not being mean, baby. I’m stating a fact. C’mere… I know you’re sorry. I forgive you.”
You walked over to her, your knees almost touching hers as she sat up and brushed her fingers along your arms.
“I like that you were jealous. I like that you felt dumb for assuming shit. That’s all you are, my dumb puppy,” she spoke in a low raspy voice. She actually didn’t enjoy that you had gotten jealous. All you were to her was a fucktoy. Jealousy ruins her fun. Ellie decided to let it slide for the night, wanting nothing more than to fuck you until all you can say is a string of apologies for thinking bad of her.
You pulled your arms away, sighing at the loss of her touch but wanting to stand your ground.
“I am sorry, Ellie. But it doesn’t change the fact that we shouldn’t have sex anymore. I wanted to wait until marriage and I want to wait until marriage to have sex again. I messed up once and it’s okay but I cannot sin this way again.”
Ellie hummed, her finger lifting up your shirt slightly to stick it in the hem of your jeans. She slid it across your skin, looking up as your breathing got faster.
“But it felt so good to sin, didn’t it, baby?” she cooed.
“I refuse to confess that to you. God has already forgiven me. I mean it.”
“Then make me stop.”
Ellie started to unbutton your pants, sliding them down around your ankles. She chuckled at the sight of your soaked panties. “You want this as much as I do,” she taunted.
You watched as she pulled them back up. “But if you really don’t want to… well, I won’t make you. But it makes me sad. I had so much planned for tonight.”
You fought with yourself internally as a part of you was desperate for her to take them off again and touch you. You hadn’t moved an inch, not even to button your jeans up. They were falling down slowly, too slow for your liking.
You knew it was wrong but decided it would be okay. All of your friends do it and they’re good people. You truly believed that there was no way that they would go to hell for having sex. They were the best friends you ever had. You never judged them for it so why would they judge you?
You hesitated before you spoke up. “W-What did you have planned?”
Ellie smirked devilishly. She knew you’d give in if she made you feel bad about it. While she realized it was wrong, she didn’t care because things were going her way.
“Follow me,” she demanded. She stood up and you walked after her, feeling nervous but in a good way. Ellie stepped inside her room and you admired the walls. There were so many posters and trinkets scattered over her dressers. In one corner of the room, she had a desk with papers all over it and a guitar next to it. Ellie was digging through her closet as you inched closer to read the papers. Before you could pick one up, Ellie dropped something which startled you. You spun around to see her eyeing you closely. She had thrown something back in the closet on purpose to gain your attention. She shook her head no, her eyes squinted into a glare. You backed away from her desk, choosing to sit on the bed instead.
“Atta girl,” Ellie complimented. She made her way over to the bed with a box. She placed it in front of you on the floor and you peeked in, gasping. 
“You’re gonna use all of that on me?”
She chuckled. “No, I want you to pick.”
“To put inside me?”
“For me to wear so I can fuck you properly,” she explained, her voice soft and almost condescending. She knew you had no idea what she meant and how she was going to use it. “Do you see this? It’s a harness,” she continued, holding it up to show you. “I wear it over my boxers and I’ll have whichever one you pick attached to it.”
You looked back in the box and started going through it, picking up different ones and making a face before putting it back in. “These are too big, Ellie,” you admitted. “I think it’ll hurt too much.”
“It’s supposed to hurt the first time, honey. Do you want me to take out the smallest one I have?”
You nodded and slid the box over to her. She reached in and grabbed one, passing it over to you. “It’s five and a half inches long,” she said. “Pretty average. Thick enough but not too thick. Is this okay?”
“It’s okay. Please be gentle, though,” you begged.
“What, you really think I’d be rough on you? I’m not gonna do that until you’re used to it, dummy. I’ll be real slow and gentle until you say otherwise. Although, I’ll probably keep it slow. Not sure if you deserve to be fucked hard. You did come in here accusing me of bullshit earlier.”
You pouted at Ellie, feeling that it was unfair for her to bring it up. Your pout went away though as you watched her take her shirt off. Your eyes followed her hands as she slowly unbuckled her belt and pulled it out of the loops. She shoved her jeans off and stepped out of them. Ellie walked over to you, smirking as you stared at her in awe. “Give it,” she whispered. You handed her the dildo. “Take off your clothes, pup. You wanna be ready for me once this is put together, don’t you?”
You obliged, standing up to discard your clothes as fast as you could. Ellie laughed softly at your desperation. You were completely naked by the time the strap was ready. Ellie stepped closer to you as you pushed yourself further up on the bed. You laid back on the pillow, Ellie now hovering over you. “Such a needy girl,” she murmured. “You’re so desperate for my cock, aren’t you?”
“Yes, Ellie,” you breathed. She looked down at your pussy, gliding her fingers along your thighs.
“I could touch you,” she began. “But do you really deserve that?”
“Y-You bullied me for years, Els, do you deserve to fuck me?” you said slightly above a whisper. You realized what you had said as Ellie’s face twisted into an expression of annoyance. “I-I didn’t mean it-”
“You meant it,” she interrupted. “You want to be a brat now baby? Now you really have to prove how sorry you are.”
“I am sorry!” you whined. You reached up to touch her but she smacked your hand away.
“I’m pissed because I can’t fuck you how I want to. If you continue to act like a brat by the time you’re adjusted to my cock, I’ll fuck the attitude right out of you. I’ll make a mess of you. A braindead little bitch with an aching cunt, crying because I won’t let you cum no matter how much you beg. Got it?”
You nodded, her threats turning you on even more. You liked when she called you a good girl but you also enjoyed the side of her that was angry with you. You couldn’t wait until you got used to getting fucked with a strap so that she could do whatever she wanted with you.
“Use your words,” she demanded.
“I got it, Ellie.”
“Good girl. You want me to continue?”
“Yes please,” you answered.
“God, you’re so beautiful when you’re like this,” said Ellie, going back to being soft and sweet with you. She began to press the tip of her dick to your clit, a soft gasp escaping your lips. “Does that feel good, pup?”
“Mhm!” you moaned in agreement. “S’ good, Ellie!”
“Do you want more or do you want me to put it in?”
“In,” you responded eagerly. 
“You’re sure?”
“I’m sure.”
“If you need me to stop or go slower or anything like that, tell me,” she said as she lined her cock up with your entrance. “Are you ready?”
You nodded. Ellie leaned closer so that her face was right in front of yours to watch your reaction. She slowly pushed into you, making you yelp in pain.
“Sh, just like that baby,” Ellie whispered in a raspy voice. “It’s okay. You can take it.”
Ellie kept it inside you for a few seconds so you could adjust to the feeling before she started to thrust into you gently. You whined in both pain and pleasure, loving the feeling of Ellie’s strap inside of you.
“Good girl, you’re taking it so well.”
Ellie kissed you softly as you wrapped your arms around her. Your nails dug into her back, scratching her with every thrust. Ellie rolled her hips at a steady pace, talking you through it until you reached down and tugged at her waist.
“You want more baby?”
“Please, go harder.”
Ellie went harder but still kept the slow pace, watching as your eyes squeezed shut from how good it felt. “Fuck,” Ellie moaned, the sound of your wet pussy making her throb. “You feel good, pup? Is your cunt adjusting well to my cock? Hm?”
“Yes,” you whimpered. “I-I want you to go-to go faster, Els. Please!”
Ellie grinned at your pleading and sped up, hitting all the right spots inside of you. You moaned louder, gripping Ellie’s shoulders and crying out her name.
“Yeah? You like that, honey? Tell me how good it feels,” said Ellie between grunts.
“Fuck it feels s-so good! I’m about to cum, please let me cum!” you begged.
“Such a good little slut, asking for permission. Cum for me like the good girl you are, my good girl,” Ellie growled.
She plunged deeper into you and faster, watching your face as you squealed and whined. Your orgasm took over your body, making you scream out Ellie’s name. Ellie slowed down as you trembled beneath her.
“Atta girl,” she praised. 
She pulled out of you and laid back on the bed beside you, turning on her side to watch you catch your breath.
“Was that okay? Did I hurt you?”
You looked over at her and shook your head. “It stung at first but I got used to it. It felt really good,” you uttered between breaths.
“Good, I got a bit too carried away at the end but you seemed to enjoy it.”
You giggled. “Yeah, I did like it when you were rougher.”
“Noted,” Ellie said as she reached over to her drawer, opening it and pulling out an already rolled blunt. She lit it up and offered it to you but you declined.
“I can barely think, Ellie.”
Ellie shrugged and puffed on it, blowing it out away from you. “Suit yourself, doll.”
“Can I ask you something?”
Ellie nodded. “I was wondering… if maybe you could teach me how to touch you?”
“No,” Ellie said almost too quickly. “I can get myself off when you leave. You can stay until I finish this.”
“Oh, I’m not staying the night?”
Ellie shook her head no. You sighed, realizing that you had to walk home with weak legs.
“Why won’t you teach me?” 
“Teach you what?”
“Um, teach me how to touch you? I don’t think it’s fair I cum and you don’t,” you stated.
“I don’t do that unless I’m in a relationship with that person.”
“Well, something will come out of this probably so you might as well show me now!” you said as you laughed. You saw the confused expression Ellie made, your smile faltering. “I mean, it is going to, isn’t it?”
“It’s going to what?”
You sighed in frustration, getting mad that Ellie was playing dumb. You knew her better than that. Ellie was a smart girl but would fight her way out of admitting something she didn’t want to. You raised up and grabbed your clothes, suddenly feeling embarrassed and nauseous. “I feel so stupid,” you whispered to yourself. “I should just go.”
“Hey, I want you to stay until I finish my joint so I can walk you out.”
“Such a gentleman, Ellie,” you spat back sarcastically.
“What was that? Did I not just let you cum on my cock after you insulted me earlier? I wasn’t going to let you but I did out of kindness. You should watch your tone with me, church girl, because I won’t be so nice next time.”
“You’re fucking me but don’t plan on having anything with me at some point?” you asked as you stood up. You tumbled a bit due to how shaky your legs were but you tried your best to not let it show. “You could’ve told me.”
Ellie scoffed. “I’m just havin’ fun. I didn’t realize you would want this to be a relationship.”
“I assumed you knew because of how I am. I’m a Christian who dates to marry,” you argued.
“Right, just like you assumed I was fucking Cat again all because you saw us sitting together. Relax, I don’t know where this will go. I like fucking you and I plan on fucking you as often as I can. Not if you’re gonna let your feelings get in the way, though.”
You rolled your eyes and started to get dressed. Ellie continued to smoke her joint while she observed you. “I already know you’re gonna say this is the last time,” Ellie continued. “But you’ll come back. I know you will. I think you need me.”
“What I need is to go home and sleep. I also need you to leave me alone,” you mumbled.
“When I show up to your door tomorrow night, are you really gonna turn me away?”
“Bye, Ellie,” you said as you started to walk away.
“Wait,” Ellie stood up and put her joint out. She slid out of the harness and threw it on the bed, grabbing her tank top and shoving it on as she chased after you. You were almost at the door when she jogged in front of you, opening it for you. “I’ll see you tomorrow, pup,” she said in a teasing tone.
“Fuck you.”
You walked out, Ellie still at the door to watch you go. “You’re gonna regret that tomorrow!”
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leaderwonim · 25 days
Text
MR. FUCKING BRIGHTSIDE
pairing. slytherin!jake x hufflepuff!fem!reader
summary. although sim jaeyun constantly surrounds himself with douchebags and looks like he could stomp all over a girl’s heart; you knew the real him that was deep inside. but did you really?
genre. hogwarts!au, ANGST, bits of fluff, right person wrong circumstances, forbidden/secret love
warnings. jake can be a bit of an asshole, the insult “mudblood” is used, slytherin gets shitted on as a house (dw, i’m a slytherin 😭)
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Sim Jaeyun, or everybody knew him as Jake, the sixth year Slytherin, seeker of his house’s Quidditch team, and nevertheless, charming to every girl that has stepped foot in his proximity.
Half of your friends would disagree—that he was not charming but rather just another slithering snake in the worst possible house at Hogwarts.
Jake’s friend group consisted of three people: Draco Malfoy, Blaise, and Pansy Parkinson. They just so happen to be an insufferable lot, maybe except Blaise who minded his own business half of the time.
“Today you will be working in pairs.” Professor McGonagall states, fixing her glasses as she holds a stroll of paper. “I’ve already decided them, absolutely no changes.”
There’s groans that fill the room, one of whom you recognize as no other than Jake.
“Seriously? I wanted to pair up with Blaise!” He whines, earning a glare from Draco. “What? C’mon Dray, we both know you and I don’t get anything done.”
“Alright,” Professor McGonagall clears her throat. “Blaise Zabini with Nancy Drumswell, Aidan Callaghan with Hermione Granger, Harry Potter with Neville Longbottom, Draco Malfoy with Pansy Parkinson, and finally, Jaeyun Sim with Y/N L/N.”
You don’t blink when you realize who your partner is. Rather, you just sigh a bit in defeat, coming to the conclusion that you cannot do anything to convince McGonagall to change partners.
“Hey.” Jake plops himself down on the seat next to you, laughing as Draco gives him a shove on the way to his own table.
“Hi.” You murmur, suddenly finding your yellow robe more interesting than him.
“I’ve never been paired with a Hufflepuff before.” He grins, the shit eating grin that weirdly captives your senses. “Are you guys as nice as you claim to be?”
“I don’t know Jaeyun, you tell me.”
Jake’s eyes widen before he lets out a giggle. “Jaeyun? No one ever calls me that anymore.”
You shrug, sliding him the piece of paper with the instructions to your project. “You can stop by the Hufflepuff dormitories at 8, I’ll be done with dinner by then and I’ll open it for you.”
“Sounds like a plan sweetheart.”
You cringe at his words, the obvious disdain on your face makes him laugh even harder.
“I’ll see you then.” He whispers, and just like a movie, stands up as soon as McGonagall dismisses the class, merging into one with his friends.
♡;
Just as the clock struck eight, you heard a knock. Your books, pens, and parchment were spread out in front of you, eagerly waiting to be used.
As you slowly get up to open the door, you’re met face to face with Jake, who entered the room with a confident stride
"Hey there, Y/N," Jake greeted, flashing you a charming smile as he took a seat across from your side of the table.
"Hey," you politely turn his smile. "Ready to tackle this project?"
"Absolutely," he affirmed, pulling out his own notes and spreading them out on the table. "I've got some ideas already. How about you?"
You nodded, slightly impressed by Jake's readiness to dive into the work. "I've been brainstorming as well. Maybe we can combine our ideas and come up with something great."
As the two of you began discussing your approaches to the project, youcouldn't help but notice how articulate and intelligent Jake was when he wasn't surrounded by his usual group of friends. His confidence shone through, but it was paired with a genuine interest in the subject matter that caught you off guard.
"You sure sound different when you’re not around Draco," You remarked.
Jake only chuckled, a hint of self-deprecation in his voice. "Yeah, well, I guess I don't always show this side of me around my friends. They have a different idea of what's cool."
You can only nod in understanding, realizing that Jake was more complex than you had initially assumed.
As you continued working, you couldn’t help but find yourself paying closer attention to the small details about him—the way his brow furrowed in concentration, the soft lilt in his voice when he explained a concept, the way his eyes sparkled with passion for the project.
"Thanks for coming, Jake," you say, offering him a genuine smile. "I really enjoyed working with you."
Jake returned your smile, his eyes meeting yours with a warmth that sent a sudden flutter through your heart. "Anytime, Y/N. I had a great time too."
As you bid each other goodnight, you couldn’t help but suddenly miss his presence, something you didn’t expect to happen with just one session with him.
♡;
In your second studying session, you and Jake found yourselves engrossed in their project once again. This time, you two decided to move to a quiet corner of the library, away from prying eyes and distractions. The Hufflepuff dorms were too crowded, and you knew you’d rather die than step into the Slytherin dormitory as a Hufflepuff.
As you discussed your research findings, you couldn't help but notice how Jake's demeanor had softened since your last meeting. He seemed more relaxed, more open, as if he felt comfortable letting his guard down around you.
Jake suddenly reached across the table to grab a book, his hand brushing against yours in the process. It was a simple gesture, but it sent a jolt of electricity coursing through your veins, leaving you quite literally breathless for a moment. “Here Y/N, I heard this book was good for this particular topic.”
Your eyes met briefly, and you felt your cheeks flush with warmth.
“Thanks,” you murmur, looking down slightly.
Jake smiled back at you, seemingly oblivious to the effect his touch had on you. For a person who charms so much girls, you’d think he know how much his advances affected others.
“No problem, seems like we got a lot done within these 2 days huh?”
"Yeah, it seems so," you reply softly.
Even though it had only been 2 nights, in those quiet moments, away from the prying eyes of their classmates, you had realized just how much you actually enjoyed Jake's company. He wasn't just the annoying Slytherin she had initially pegged him to be—he was kind, intelligent, and surprisingly easy to talk to.
"I guess that's it for tonight," Jake said, a hint of disappointment in his voice. “Can’t believe they only allow Prefects in the library past ten.”
"Yeah," you groan, feeling a pang of sadness at the thought of saying goodbye. "But we'll see each other again soon, right?"
Jake nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Definitely. Let’s just hope Malfoy doesn’t ruin it.”
♡;
As you made your way through the corridors of Hogwarts with Hermione, you spotted Jake surrounded by his Slytherin friends, including Draco and Pansy. Suddenly feeling the wave of confidence at the sight of him, you decided to muster up the courage to approach him.
But as you drew nearer, you noticed a subtle shift in Jake's demeanor. His usual friendly expression hardened, and a smirk spread across his lips as he turned to face you and Hermione.
"Look who it is, boys," Draco says, voice dripping with sarcasm. "Little Miss Hufflepuff herself."
Jake and Pansy chuckled, exchanging knowing glances with Draco as if they were in on some inside joke. Your smile faltered, confusion and hurt swirling in your chest as you struggled to make sense of Jake's sudden change in attitude.
"Um, hi, Jaeyun," you replied, voice barely above a whisper as you fought to keep her composure.
"Seriously? Jaeyun? That’s hysterical.” Pansy laughs, as if it was the funniest thing in the world.
“What's the matter, Y/N? Can't find anyone from your own house so you bother our Jake here?” Draco continues to taunt you, his words like daggers aimed straight at your heart. “Or should I say Jaeyun?”
You felt your cheeks burn with embarrassment as the laughter of Jake's friends echoed in your ears. You had never felt so small, so insignificant to the group in front of you.
“I was hoping to discuss our project.” You say quietly, looking at anyone but Jake.
Hermione could sense your hostility, pulling you close to her side as she gave Draco a snarl.
“Listen Y/N,” Jake says, “all that crap you Hufflepuffs preach about loving each other and expressing feelings is a lie. No one really cares about what you have to say.”
“Alright, that’s enough!” Hermione says, shielding you by putting herself in front of your frame. “What has gotten into you?”
But Jake just shrugged her off, his smirk widening into a sneer. "Mind your own business, mudblood. This doesn't concern you."
Feeling the sting of tears threatening to spill from your eyes, you quickly turn on your heel and fled down the corridor, desperate to escape the humiliation of Jake's cruel words.
Had you really been so stupid to place your trust in Sim Jaeyun knowing full well his reputation? By the looks of it, all answers pointed to yes.
♡;
By 7pm, the sun had dipped below the horizon, casting a warm glow across the surface of the Black Lake just in front of the Slytherin Common Rooms.
“Y/N?” Almost as if he knew exactly where you were, Jake shows up in front of you, making you give him a glare.
"I'm so sorry, Y/N," he murmured, his voice tinged with remorse as he avoided your gaze. He takes a seat next to you on the grass, his fingers tracing patterns across them in nervousness. "I messed up back there. I let my pride get the best of me, and I hurt you in the process. I should have stood up for you."
You sighed, your heart heavy with disappointment but softened by Jake's sincerity.
“I don’t get it,” you say. “One moment you’re all kind and sincere around me, and the next, you say all these things like I’m worth nothing.”
The two of you sat in silence for a moment, the air filled with the gentle rustle of leaves and the distant calls of birds. Then, Jake spoke again, his voice hesitant but earnest. "I guess my friends just have an influence on me that I can’t control. I’m sorry for what I said earlier, you’re one of the kindest people I've ever met, Y/N. I admire that about you."
You slightly smiled, a warm flush spreading across your cheeks. "Thank you, Jake. That means a lot to me."
As the sky darkened and stars began to twinkle overhead, the two of you continued to talk, laughter mingling with the night air.
♡;
The next night was one of the more important nights at Hogwarts. Everybody had finished their exams—and the Ravenclaws decided to throw a party at their Commons.
The music throbbed as you entered with Ron Weasley, who, at the sight of his twin brothers, ran towards them. You roll your eyes at his behavior, and start pulsing through the crowded room, a plastic smile plastered on your face.
You notice Jake in the corner, sipping on what looked like a bottle of beer. He exchanged nods and greetings with those around him, his eyes scanning the room for something—someone.
But before you could gawk at him any longer, Draco cut in smoothly, his tone laced with mockery. "Oh, look who decided to show up. Did you bring your Hufflepuff friend to the party, Jake? How charming."
Pansy giggled, her eyes glittering with malice as she looked at you up and down. "I didn't know us Slytherins were into charity work."
“Guys, seriously? Cut it out,” Jake gulps, eyes directly meeting yours.
“He’s right,” Blaise says, and you swear it’s the most you’ve ever heard out of him. “Don’t ruin the party.”
“Whatever.” Pansy throws her hand in mock surrender. “Wouldn’t want to make the Hufflepuff cry.”
Hermione comes to your rescue right after Pansy throws you a glare.
“Piss off.” She says, interlocking her arms with yours.
“Thanks ‘Mione.” You thank her softly as you’re lead away from the lot. “For saving me back there.”
“Always,” she smiles. “Now cmon, I heard Ron’s already drunk!”
You two giggle at that, you letting Hermione lead the way into the crowd of people.
♡;
It’s about 2 hours later and the Ravenclaw party is still loud as ever, filled with with laughter and music.
Despite the Weasley twins making a full ruckus of themselves, your eyes were drawn to a figure slumped in a corner. It was Jake, only this time, he looked uncharacteristically vulnerable, his face pale and contorted with some type of emotion you hadn’t seen before.
Concern etched onto your features, and your body felt itself navigating through the crowd of people until you’re knelt beside him. "Jake? Are you alright? Where’s Draco?”
He lifted his head, and you swore you felt your heart clenched at the sight of his glassy eyes and trembling lips. "I'm fine," he mumbled, but his voice betrayed the lie.
"No, you're not," you reply softly, placing a hand on his shoulder. "What's wrong?"
Jake swallowed hard, his gaze flickering with a mix of emotions. "It's... it's nothing," he slurred, but his words lacked conviction.
You stayed silent, sensing he needed to unburden himself. After a moment, he spoke again, his voice raw with emotion. "Do you think I’m good for nothing?”
"What?" You asked gently, your heart sinking as you watched him struggle to form his thoughts.
"I mean look at this, look at me," Jake gestured vaguely, gesturing to the party around the two of you. "This charade I constantly put on. Pretending to be someone I'm not."
Your brows furrowed in confusion. "What do you mean?"
"I mean..." Jake trailed off, his breath hitching. "Was it all worth the six years of be pretending to be who I wasn’t? Pretending to be the egoistic charming Slytherin everyone claims to know so well?”
Jake pauses before looking up at you, his eyes swimming with unshed tears. "You know I care about you a lot, right? I like you, a lot.”
“You do?” You say quietly, brushing a few loose strands of hair out of his eyes.
“But we just can’t.”
“What?”
“Why not?”
"Because,” Jake's voice cracked, and he looked away. "Because I wish you were in Slytherin."
You felt your heart shatter into a million pieces at his words. You almost knew it then, with a painful realization that you could never compete with the loyalty he felt towards his house and the expectations placed upon him by his housemates.
Tears stung your eyes as you realized there was nothing she could do to change his mind. With a heavy heart, you rose to your feet.
“Well I’m sorry then, Jake.” You say, turning around so he wouldn’t see your tears.
And as you walked away, the echoes of his confession lingered in your mind, haunting your thoughts with the bitter realization that sometimes, love simply wasn't enough.
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marvelsmylife · 1 month
Text
We’re going to be ok
Pairing: Azriel x reader
Plot: when word gets back to Azriel that you’re planning on leaving the night court after the kitchen incident, Azriel will stop at nothing until he convinces you stay and confesses why he’s been avoiding you.
A/n this is part two to Jealous Mate. I made a movie reference in this part. Five points to anyone who catches it and writes the movie I’m referencing.
*Correction* There are actually two references in this part. One is a movie reference the other is a book reference.
Part one
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Azriel refused to be around you for two weeks after the kitchen incident. He was too ashamed that he just left without saying a single word to you. He knew what he was currently doing was making things worse, but he couldn’t face you after he heard you say you were giving up on him. It wasn’t until Rhysand called him into his office to scold him for his actions that he realized how badly he messed up: “Rhys, I know-.”
“No, you don’t know,” Rhysand cut Azriel off: “You avoiding your mate is causing nothing but problems within our inner circle. Do you ever plan on talking to her?” Azriel was so ashamed of his actions that he refused to speak. 
Taking his silence as an answer, Rhysand spoke up again: “Very well. Since you won’t give me the decency to respond. Then this news I’m about to tell you won’t bother you.” Rhysand inhaled sharply before adding: “Y/n is leaving the night court. She asked if she could stay at the day court with Helion, and he happily agreed. If you’d like to say goodbye to her, you better do it fast. She’s at the house of wind packing as we speak.”
The color drained from Azriel’s face at the news you were leaving the night court. He couldn’t believe that he had driven you to not only leave the home you shared but also drive you out of the night court entirely. “You can’t allow her to leave !” panic was laced in Azriel’s tone: “She belongs here with us, with me. I’m her mate, and I’m not allowing this to happen, Rhysand !! !”
“She has free will. She can do whatever she pleases. Let her go and let her live her life in peace.”
Azriel felt his chest tightening at Rhysand’s words. He knew Rhysand was right, but he couldn’t let you go, not when he’s yet to tell you how he truly feels about you. “No,” Azriel said firmly: “I’m not letting her leave. At least not until I talk to her.”
Not giving Rhysand a chance to respond, Azriel fled to the house of wind to see if he could catch you before you left.
Luck was on his side. Your smell lingered in the house when he arrived and immediately walked towards your room. He had no idea what he was going to say. He was never really good with words. Not bothering to knock, Azriel entered your room and noticed that more than half of your stuff was already packed. “Can I help you?” you asked while you packed your clothes. 
Azriel remained silent as he looked around and spotted something from the corner of his eye: “Is that?” Azriel swallowed hard when he noticed a pressed flower on your desk.
You looked toward where Azriel was staring and sighed: “The rose you gave me when I first moved in? Yes. Yes, it is.”
You were about to throw it in the trash when Azriel stopped you and took your hands into his: “Please don’t go,” Azriel begged: “I know I haven’t been a good mate, but I can’t let you go.”
“Azriel, don’t.” you said firmly: “You’re being mean.” There was hurt in your eyes when you registered what Azriel had said, and all Azriel wanted to do was comfort you. “You do not have the right to ask that from me. Not when I’ve tried to get close to you, but all you’ve done was push me away.” You tried to get out of his grip, but he only held you tighter. “Do you know how excited I was to meet and get to know you when we first met? I was so excited to share everything about my life and was eager to get to know you, but after the first week, you started to ignore me. I just wanted to talk, but you wouldn’t even acknowledge my existence while we live together,” you paused for a moment, trying so hard not to cry in front of Azriel but failed miserably. “Look, if you’re not going to put any effort into our relationship as mates, then I’m going to leave because being around you while you ignore me hurts me physically, mentally, and emotionally ! ! !”
It was Azriel’s turn to feel the way you’ve been feeling for the past couple of months, feeling rejected, and he’ll never forgive himself for making you feel this way for so long. “No! !” Azriel looked at you in disbelief: “I just- you can’t go. I’ve been avoiding you because I thought you were better off without me. You deserve better than me. I-” Azriel paused to contemplate if he should continue explaining. “I didn’t want to accept the bread you made with Cassian because if I did that would’ve meant you accepted the bond between us, and I didn’t want you to feel shackled to me for the rest of your life. But seeing you pack and saying you’re leaving makes me want to be selfish and tell you to stay. Stay with me and I promise I’ll be a better mate. I’ll eat whatever you make so I can accept the bond.”
“Azriel-“ you paused: “I didn’t and still don’t care about your past. You can’t allow your past to dictate your future.” Azriel knew you were right, and he was going to tell you when you continued: “Look, I’ll stay, but I’m not going to bake or cook you anything, not yet. You have to earn my forgiveness, and maybe then I’ll accept the bond in the future.” 
“I’m ok with that. I’ll wait a thousand years if I have to, just as long as I still have you in my life.” You found yourself crying again at Azriel’s words.
Azriel looked down at you and wiped away the tears that were running down your cheeks: “No more crying, especially over me,” before he placed a kiss on your forehead: “You’re ok. We are going to be ok.”
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thyme-in-a-bubble · 3 months
Text
the croissants
buttercup, chapter one
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a/n: i was actually working on something else, but then one night i got the desperate need to rewatch daredevil yet again and then this just kinda accidentally tumbled out. oopsi i guess.
summary: he offered you a polite smile that sent a swarm of butterflies soaring within your belly, a sensation that you hadn’t felt in ages, “welcome to the building,” he added as he tugged his door open.
warnings: matt murdock x baker!reader, neighbours to lovers, rape recovery, ptsd, moving, lowkey love at first sight (for reader)
word count: 2415
∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽
series masterlist | next chapter
masterlist | join my taglist
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“Do you wanna make the call or would you like me to do it?” 
Turning to look at the robust and inked visage of your uncle, your face crinkled up slightly as you asked in a hesitant tone, “…would you mind doing it? Please?”
“Sure, hon,” Howard nodded before blinking down at his phone and dialling the number, “what kind? Margherita?”
“Yeah, and with some arugula on top, please,” you spoke as you squeezed by a tower of messy moving boxes to enter the open kitchen of your new apartment, “thank you!”
Hearing his footsteps carry him deeper into the new home, his voice soon rumbled, muffled behind your bedroom door. Opening up the cardboard box that half blocked off your empty fridge, you dug through it till you found a glass, swiftly straightening back up and filling it up with water.
“How are you doing, cupcake?” you heard the soft voice of Walter, your uncle’s husband, as you turned off the tab, “you gonna be okay tonight? Because if you don’t want to be alone, we can stay.”
“No, it’s alright, I think I’m okay,” you took a tiny sip before placing the tall glass down on the counter, “you both gotta get up early tomorrow to open the bakery anyways.” 
“It’s never stopped us before. Do you remember when you were 11 and you watched that terrifying movie at some slumber party?” a smile twitched at the bald man’s lip from the memory, “I don’t think any of us slept for a whole week straight and the bakery still kept on running. If we could get through those sleepless nights of trying to convince you that our apartment wasn’t haunted, then we can get through this.” 
Stepping up closer to him, you caught his hand in yours and said, “I think I’m gonna be okay, but thank you, Walter, really, for everything, for this, for letting me move back home and letting me stay there for over a year.”
“Hey,” he squeezed your palm and ushered you to meet his gaze, “you do not need to thank us for that. It’s–…” he dropped the heavy comment he nearly uttered and instead let out a low sigh, “we love you. It was the very least we could do.”
“I love you too,” you heard your voice threaten a tremble of vulnerability, “so much.”
As the bedroom door then swung back open, out stepped Howard with an exhale, “alright, the pizza is on its way. You gonna be okay here?”
“Yeah,” you offered him a nod before walking them out. 
Peeking back at you over his shoulder as he swung his bright red scarf back on, Walter raised his brows tenderly, “promise that you’ll call us if anything happens, yeah?”
“Promise,” you breathed as you watched them creak open the front door and step out into the cold hallway, “love you, goodnight!”
“Goodnight, hon!” Howard waved over his shoulder at your visage in the doorway as the couple reached the stairs, “see you tomorrow! Try and get some rest, just head in whenever you get up.” 
“Okay,” a soft smile warmed your features. Lately, or the past year actually, they’d let you cut down on your work quite a bit so that your hours at the bakery were significantly less and the only days you were to get up before the sun did was on weekends.
“Bye!” they both called out loudly as they disappeared from your view before your own echo rang throughout the hallway.
“Bye!”
You didn’t manage to unpack much, only half of your books, before the buzzer rang obnoxiously, causing your feet to scramble to let the delivery guy up. 
Swiftly locating your backpack, you fished out your wallet just before a knock boomed at your door. 
“That’ll be twenty bucks,” the pimply-faced pizza guy spoke in a monotone voice as soon as you opened up. 
Catching the shadow of another figure ascend the staircase just before you began to dig through your wallet, his handsome and scruffy features were adorned with a pair of glasses that had a darkly crimson tint to them.
“Yep… uh… do you have change for a fifty?” 
“Nope,” he impatiently blinked before loudly popping his bright blue bubblegum.
“Oh, alright…” you felt your palms begin to sweat, “do you mind just waiting here for a second? I might have some more cash in a jacket… somewhere…”
But just before you could duck back inside, the suit-clad man who had stopped to unlock the door directly opposite yours, whipped his own wallet out and handed off the needed bucks, “here.”
Satisfied, the pizza guy accepted the change and shoved the wide box into your arms before dashing off. 
“Oh, you didn’t have to do that,” you blinked over at your generous, new neighbour, “I can pay you back–”
“It’s fine, don’t worry about it,” he offered you a polite smile that sent a swarm of butterflies soaring within your belly, a sensation that you hadn’t felt in ages, “welcome to the building,” he added as he tugged his door open. 
“Thanks,” you uttered, slightly windblown in your threshold as he disappeared into his apartment. 
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Slipping into your sneakers and hastily fastening them with sloppy bows, you slugged your jacket on and grabbed your bag. As you exited your apartment, the neighbouring door opened just as you locked up your own. 
“Oh, hi!” you squeaked over your shoulder as you turned the key, “good morning!” 
Your breath got caught in your throat as you turned to face him fully, shoving your bundle of keys into your pocket. Did he look even better than you remembered? Now no longer obscured by the terrible excuses this hallway had for lighting, the frosted window to your right illuminated every detail of him that you’d missed the first time around. 
“Morning,” he replied as he too locked his door behind him. 
Waiting a moment before you began to move your feet, you eyed his polished attire, “are you off to work?”
“Yep,” he nodded and fished out a folded-up cane from the inner pocket of his jacket, “you?”
“Yeah,” you sucked in a breath, “I’m Y/n, by the way, forgot to introduce myself the other night.”
“Matthew,” the bespectacled man extended his hand out for you to shake, “nice to meet you.” 
After ignoring the tingle his touch sent down your spine, the two of you began to descend the stairs.
“Thanks again for what you did with the–, oh! I should pay you back!” you reached into your deep coat pocket to locate your wallet, “I’m pretty sure I have–, how much was it?”
“You don’t have to, it’s fine, really,” he politely declined. 
Reaching the bottom of the staircase, your brows flew up, “seriously?”
“Yeah,” he shrugged as he then held the front door open for you to get out onto the street first. 
“Thank you, Matthew,” you slipped out, waiting a moment before you began to head off, “have a good day!”
“Yeah, you too,” he said, flicking out his cane to its full length, just before you both began to walk in the exact same direction. 
“Oh, wait,” you slowed as a giggle bubbled out of your lungs, “you’re also heading this way?”
“Oh, uhm, yeah.”
“Do you–, uh… I can wait for a little bit and let you get a head start if you–”
“Or you can just walk with me, if you’d like,” he suggested with a gentle smile that made your brain forget for just a split second where your destination was in the first place, “it’s fine with me, I don’t mind the company.”
“Okay,” you agreed in a quiet voice, returning to a brisk pace beside him. You didn’t take too many strides before a casual question nervously fell from your lips, “so, have you lived here long?” 
“In the apartment or Hell’s Kitchen?”
“Oh,” your heartbeat thrummed in your ears, “both, I guess.”
“I’ve been in the apartment for a while,” he told you, “but lived here in the neighbourhood pretty much all my life.”
“Yeah?” you smiled, maybe glancing over at him a bit too much for it to be safe as you walked, “that’s nice.”
“You?”
“Uhm, grew up in Brooklyn, moved here to live with my uncles when I was nine, after my parents passed.”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” his low tone emanated an air of kinship. 
“It’s alright. It was a long time ago, I was just a kid... anyways! Enough about me before I spill all of my childhood trauma to you,” you gracelessly changed the subject, “you are in a suit.”
“I–,” a faint laugh tumbled out past his lips before he joked, “I’d sure hope I am and didn’t accidentally change into something else.”
“No–, I mean, yes, obviously,” you felt heat begin to rise in your cheeks, “that was just a very weird and backwards way of asking what you do for a living.”
“Ah,” his dark brows lifted in comprehension.
“Let me guess…” you fiddled with your fingers as you thought, “accountant? No… politician? No… funeral director?”
“Funeral di–,” Matthew chuckled, “no.”
“Do you work on Wall Street? Oh, please tell me you don’t because here I was just starting to think you were super cool.”
“No, I don’t work on Wall Street, but good to know that you think I’m cool,” he smirked, making you regret letting that information slip, “I’m a lawyer.”
“A lawyer?” your eyes grew, “seriously?”
“Yep.”
“That’s–... that’s–… waow…” you uttered, completely dumbfounded by the imposing nature of his profession, “well, now I don’t wanna tell you what I do, because it’s so not as impressive.”
“Oh, come on,” he tilted his head, “now you have to tell me.”
“…I’m a baker,” you finally said, “actually,” stopping your stride, you briefly brushed his arm for him to do the same, “this is where I work, right here.” 
“Really?” 
“It’s called Buttercup Bakery,” you glanced up at the familiar storefront, “have you ever been in there?”
“No, never,” his head shook lightly as a small smile warmed up his features, “funny, my office is just a few minutes further down the street, I must have walked passed this place a thousand times but I never noticed it before.”
“Well, you know of its existence now…” you turned your head to gaze at his striking visage once more as he raised a hand to adjust his glasses, “do you wanna get a coffee or something? My treat, as thanks for the pizza.”
“I’d love to,” he sucked in a breath, “but I really have to get going.”
“Oh, yeah, of course,” you nodded lightly, “well, thanks for the walk, have a great day. Hope you win a bunch of cases and–, uh… I don’t know, help make the judicial system better,” you couldn’t help but physically cringed at your clumsy words. 
But your new neighbour didn’t seem to mind as he just chuckled before wandering off, “bye, Y/n.”
The small bell above the glass door to the bakery chimed softly as you pushed it open. The interior was simple, both in colour and design, but had a rustic charm to it that gave it a sense of home. Behind the counter, and the mouth-watering baked goods lined up and displayed behind the clear glass, stood Walter. Facing the long shelves adorned with various loaves, he grabbed a crusty baguette and slid it into an appropriately long brown paper bag.
Handing it off to the little old lady on the other side, he said, “here you are. That’ll be four dollars,” before she placed the money on the counter beside his half-read newspaper and strolled passed you, out of the bakery, “have a good day!”
Leaning back down to return to his paper, Walter didn’t glance up at you as he greeted, “hi, honey! You wanna hear your horoscope for today?”
Tugging down the zipper of your jacket, you joked self-reflectively as you began to shed your layers, “does it say that I’ll miraculously turn into a charming and charismatic adult instead of whatever this is?”
“…uh… no,” he furrowed his brow and finally shot you a brief glance, “it says that you're energized and creative. This new moon initiates two weeks of growing work, health and strength. Put your heart into your actions. Practice makes perfect. Oh, and it also says right here that the spelt flour bin needs refilling and that there are about a billion cardamom buns that need to be shaped.”
“Oh, it says all of that, does it now?”
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Letting a tense breath go, you apprehensively let your fist meet the dark door in three shy knocks. 
As soon as it swung open, the sentence, “do you like croissants?” sputtered out passed your lips. 
Head reeling back slightly at the unforeseen and sudden question, Matt blinked, “what?” 
“Do you like croissants?” you repeated as if it wasn’t strange to just blurt out something like that out of the blue. 
“Uh,” a smile then crept up on his lips, “hello to you too, Y/n.”
“I mean, I’ve personally never met anyone who doesn’t care for them, but I’m sure they exist.”
“Sure, I like croissants.”
“Oh, great, wonderful!”
Leaning against his door, his head tilted as you failed to continue, “…did you just have a burning desire to know that fact about me?”
“Right, no, I–, uhm, there were a bunch leftover today that we didn’t sell, so purely just to not let any go to waste, I thought you’d like some,” you held up the crinkly paper bag for him to hear. 
It had been a lie, but he didn’t have to know that you’d set some aside for him before they all sold out, just to have an excuse to talk to him again. 
“Oh, thank you,” he held out his open palms, “that’s so nice of you.” 
As you handed the bag off into his grasp, you felt as if your heart might beat straight out of your chest.  
“…alright, well…” you stumbled slightly, “I should probably head off to bed. Weekends are always the busiest, so my shifts are usually really long and I have to get up like super early, so... goodnight then!” 
And with that you awkwardly whirled around and scurried the short distance into your own apartment, only faintly catching his warm chuckle as you disappeared. 
“Night.”
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© 2024 thyme-in-a-bubble 
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artist-issues · 5 months
Text
I Saw Wish
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And it was the worst animated Disney movie I’ve ever seen. I have to watch it again before I can get into the nitty gritty details. But I don’t need details to sum it up, because my dad actually said it perfectly as we left the theater:
“It was like someone who didn’t really understand Disney movies tried to make a Disney movie.”
Both the form (the technical arts of filmmaking) and the content (the morals, values, and themes of the movie) were totally horrible.
I don’t know who’s fault it was. Jeremy Spears was in the storyboard room and Mark Henn and Eric Goldberg did some 2D animation. But they must have gotten outvoted, or they must not care anymore.
Because holy cow. Here’s some stuff that’s just off the top of my head.
SPOILERS. Not that it matters, because nothing interesting happens in this movie.
The writing? Terrible. Ninety percent of it feels like the characters are filling time with quirky one-liners that are trying too hard to be appealing, then failing, then taking you out of the movie. The jokes aren’t funny. The characters just respond to each other in conversation to check a one-liner box. The other twenty percent is whole conversations repeating tell-don’t-show exposition that has already been covered, usually twice, in previous scenes. Like if in Tangled, every scene had included some variation of Rapunzel saying to friends and enemies alike, “I have to see the floating lights so I’m sneaking to the castle with this thief who wants a mysterious tiara I hid from him. Don’t tell my mother, she’s a bit overprotective!” Over. And over. And over.
The character motivations are way too broad. Asha? Her dream is just “that everybody around me gets to be happy.” That’s it, in a nutshell. No deeper exploration of that. Nobody asks, “why do you care so much?” Nobody tries to convince her she should look out for herself, and then she proves she was right all along. The King? We are told (not shown) that he doesn’t want anyone else’s dreams to be “destroyed.” But he in no believable way expresses that that motivation is still what’s driving him during the movie—what’s driving him is just a plain old lust for power, no nuance.
By the way, the whole premise of the movie? Undercooked. Half-baked concepts strung together with no definitive meaning. Therefore, it’s not believable. Example: The characters act like the wishes are beautiful—well, actually, no, this movie doesn’t know how to show, so there’s not a lot of meaningful acting—the characters just tell us that wishes are “the most beautiful part of someone,” and that’s why it’s worth going through this adventure to give their wishes back to them. But there’s no proof of that in the movie. In fact, it directly kicks it’s own legs out from under that idea, because it has every character who gives up their wish forget that part of themselves. Asha’s grandfather has forgotten his wish, but that doesn’t make him any less “beautiful.” She, and everyone, still treats him like he’s this wonderful old man who deserves the world, who everyone loves…but why is he so appealing? If he “gave up the most beautiful part of him?” The only character who is changed by their lack-of-wish is the Sleepy-analogue character…who is just sleepy, which is described as “boring.” But nobody else who’s given up their wish in the whole kingdom acts like that. It’s just him. Also, the King acts like it’s so important to protect the wishes from destruction. But what does destroying a wish look like? That actually happens to Asha’s mom. Her wish-bubble is broken, literally, and she just says she feels grief. But like. Why? She never remembered it in the first place; it had been missing from her life for years. Also, what the heck is a wish?! It seems to range from broad concepts like “inspire people” to “fly.” Just “fly,” like a bird. The desire to levitate off the ground is the most important, beautiful essence of one background character. Like, what?! But no character ever has the why behind their wish to make us care.
I could go on and on about that point. Like, think about Disney movies that wrote the book on how to make movies about characters with wishes. If Ariel were in Wish, her bubble would look like “dancing and learning and exploring on the Surface with someone who understands her.” But we believe that that is her real, genuine wish, and that it matters to her, because we are shown why being understood is so important to her. Because it’s missing from her life. There’s a scene where she explores a boat alone, and even her best friend doesn’t get excited about it with her. Her dad won’t listen to her point of view. Her siblings don’t ask her about her life even when they think she’s in love. She wants what she wants because of pieces of her life that we are shown.
We are never shown why Asha’s grandfather is obsessed with inspiring people, so we have no reason to believe it, or care whether he gets it or not. We can’t feel disappointed when his wish is said to “never come true,” like we did when Quasimodo was abused by the people he wished to join. We can’t feel elated when he finally “gets” his wish, like we did when Simba smiles on Pride Rock remembering the same way he used to as a cub and claims the crown with a roar. We don’t have anything to hang on to, nothing to relate to, nothing to grasp and feel with the characters. So we don’t feel, because they didn’t put the work in to help us feel. They just say, “the mom’s feeling grief. Feel grief.” And expect us to do the work ourselves. I have to stop harping on this point and move on.
But The main point of the movie is very broad because of that lazy premise, and it’s barely reinforced by any kind of appealing storytelling. If I had to guess, the point would be “Keep wishing for more even when it’s hard.” But the story they told to communicate that meaning was so unimpactful. Asha doesn’t have a dream of her own that’s such hard work to accomplish! (Neither does her grandfather; his wish is “to inspire people.” And at the end, we’re supposed to see him strumming a guitar and believe it’s inspiring? We were never shown how he worked hard to learn how to play the instrument. Or that he carved it with his own hands, or anything like that. So there’s no meaningful demonstration of working hard for it or achieving your wish even if it’s far out of reach.) And nobody except the king is trying to take wishes away from anyone, and he just does it literally, after they voluntarily give them to him, so there’s not even any impactful demonstration of “don’t let anyone tell you your wishes are dumb or unachievable, or stop you from reaching them.” Even when he takes them away, it’s just because they…could, someday, be used to threaten his kingdom in a vague, really unlikely way. There are so many things you could do with “keep wishing for more even when it’s hard.” For instance; you could say the main character has always been afraid to dream (wish for more), because maybe when she was a kid something wonderful almost happened but ended in tragedy, so she keeps her head down and doesn’t want much because if you don’t dream you’ll never be disappointed. She takes no risks, and has to learn that sometimes trying and failing is worth more than slogging through life all self-protective. I mean, the pieces were right there. She has this line about her dad, and how she wished he would get better but then he died. She has lines about how nobody should have to live with grief?? Then that’s never addressed again! It’s just a throwaway emotion-moment with no buildup or follow-through to tie it to and support that main theme.
The compositions of too many shots were so terrible. Characters got cut off in weird places. One shot has Asha dead center, with her grandfather on the left side of the table and her mother on the right, having a family dinner with a super exposition-heavy conversation that is meant to be emotionally charged. But despite everything else being perfectly centered, half of her mother’s body is chopped off. The movie’s shot like someone’s mom who doesn’t understand technology tried to take a video with her phone.
The charm of the art “style” wears off basically immediately. I know what they were going for. I see the sketch lines and watercolor textures. This is maybe the first time Disney ever failed to accomplish a visual “look” that turned out good. Everything looks dull. Muted. De-saturated. Slightly out of focus, but not in a cool Spider-Verse way. The sets or backgrounds are lazy; at no point does the scenery look complete; big, empty, boring spaces that do not create any kind of “stage” for impactful moments. The rendering looks unfinished. When Asha’s hair moves during her belting of the “I Make This Wish” song, it’s bad. It’s unnatural. It flops in a way that doesn’t make sense for the weight of her hair. The most impactful visual moments come from the villain, and they’re moments when he looks way too unhinged for the kind of line he’s saying.
There is no interesting character development. Asha goes from believing everyone is basically good and their wishes deserve the chance to come true , to….that, again. That would be fine, she could be a static character, if she proved contrast-characters wrong, in a believable way. But she never does. Because no other characters argue with her except the King. And it goes no deeper than “everyone’s wishes are basically good and they deserve the chance to make them true” vs. “nuh-uh, because I get to decide what makes them deserving.” The King doesn’t have any kind of interesting development, either. They don’t expand on his tragic backstory—it consists of one drawing of him near a broken boat, and a few images of the corner burned off of his family taoestry. They never say “King Magnifico wished for _____ and it was taken away!” They literally never tell you what his wish or dreams were, or what motivated him to create the whole kingdom that the movie’s premise sits on. So there’s no convincing sense of progression, how he got this way, why he’ll keep going “so far.”
The pacing is weird. It undercuts every moment that could have any kind of emotion behind it. One minute Valentino is suavely bouncing around, then he’s given a two-second beat to blubber with badly-animated tears that he’ll miss Star—then he instantly gets to have another funny one-liner so we forget he might’ve been sad a second ago. We’re clearly supposed to believe that the King and his wife are devoted to each other, and his turning evil was such a big betrayal, but there’s no time and no impactful evidence for us to believe either of those things. And even if we did, the moment he’s defeated and trapped in a mirror, and begs to be let free, the Queen kind of shrugs it off, makes a forgettable one-liner, and tells them to throw him in the dungeon. And he doesn’t look remorseful. And we don’t even get to assume he’s embarrassed or emotionally devastated that he’s come to this—because the last thing he says is “nooo, the dungeon is so smellyyy!” Like this is a half-baked LEGO short that can’t get emotionally deeper than what an actual 3 year-old’s parents might be okay with.
And that’s the worst offense: The movie is not genuine. It works hard for nothing, and it has no vulnerability. It just uses old Disney standbys to pretend to be vulnerable. Have the music swell and the characters gasp and the songs drip emotion when characters are meant to be saying or doing something emotional.
But truthfully, think of all the Disney movies you’ve ever seen with the hardest emotional moments. The sheer joy of Genie when he realizes he’s free. The anguish when Elsa thinks Anna’s been frozen forever, or when Anna thinks she’s dead. The trauma when Simba loses Mufasa. The longing and dreaming of Ariel when she reaches up out of her grotto. The sense of foreboding when Mother Gothel says “fine, now I’m the bad guy” or the heartbreak in Rapunzel’s eyes when she thinks Flynn has abandoned her, or the shame on Aladdin’s face when Jafar reveals he’s a street-rat, or the horror of cruelty when the stepsisters rip up Cinderella’s dress, or Kala’s tears when Tarzan leaves her in the treehouse, or Sarabi’s tears when Simba comes back, or Mulan’s father tossing aside the sword and token of the Emperor to embrace Mulan, or heck, even just Lilo pushing Stitch in the woods and telling him “get out of here.” This movie has no moments like that. It has moments you can tell that the filmmakers wanted to hit like that—but they don’t.
Because no work is put into building them up. You know how much Simba loves Mufasa, because you’ve been watching their chemistry more than any other character all the way up till he dies. You know how much Mulan wants to please her family because she spends all of Act I desperately attempting to do that. You know Quasimodo believes the world below is beautiful and wants them to accept him because he has interesting things like—talking to gargoyles, convincing us that he’s lonely; building a scale model of the townspeople, convincing us that he sees them in a beautiful way and wishes he were beautiful in more ways than one like them, too.
Right down to the facial expressions, none of them are as anguished, happy, sad, excited, silly, in any convincing way like all of Disney’s other movies. Asha’s “low moment” when she’s afraid her “wish” hurt everyone else (still vague on what that wish ever was) lasts two seconds, she’s not crying, she’s barely sitting with slumped shoulders, and her family barely spend two seconds comforting her. They basically just say, “aw, no, it’s not y fault, it’s the king’s.” And she’s like, “yeah okay” and that’s that. It’s like the animators we’re afraid to animate really intimate emotions on the characters’ faces. The voice actors, too.
And the whole movie is peppered with Easter eggs to past Disney movies. But all that does, if you really know Disney beyond the visuals, is make you think of how hollow this movie is in comparison. How much you wish you were watching Cinderella or The Little Mermaid or something with depth and vulnerability instead of Wish.
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chakkll · 6 months
Text
Worries, Worries
Mike Schmidt x gender neutral!reader
Fandom: Five Nights at Freddy’s
Synopsis: Mike’s been doing better. He hasn’t dreamed of his brother since Freddy’s and hasn’t needed sleeping pills for almost a week now. Well, at least he thought he was doing better.
Warnings: Post movie, established relationship, fluff
Word count: 1k
*please forgive how short and probably rusty it is, it’s been a minute since i’ve posted!
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Everything’s been good. One might say almost too good.
Mike has been sleeping well, been happier, and been getting along with his sister better, all because of what happened at Freddy’s.
But all this goodness is making Mike nervous. You can feel it.
“You sure you don’t want me to tuck you in?” You call after Abby as she shuffles down the hall, her drawings and crayons tucked into her arm.
A soft “yeah” is all you get in return before you hear Abby’s door shut. You smile to yourself before glancing to the clock.
9:32pm. Mike will be home soon.
Mike asking you to watch over his little sister in the evenings has become part of your schedule. He has Fridays and Saturdays off, but other than that, you’re cooking Abby’s dinner and making sure she gets some sleep, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.
Some might think it an inconvenience to constantly watch over your boyfriend’s little sister and end up seeing her more than him, but you adore Abby.
Sure, she might not talk very much, but she’s a very creative girl. It’s hard not to like her.
When Mike first introduced you to each other, Abby ignored your greetings and went right back to her room to draw. At first, you were pretty sad about her initial reaction to you and Mike’s relationship, but Mike managed to convince you that her reaction was a positive one.
That was five months ago.
Now, Abby draws next to you instead of in her room and will answer questions about the drawings. Plus, if you catch her in the right mood, she’ll tell you about her friends.
You yawn as you flick through the TV channels until you land on a documentary about seals. You glance to the clock.
9:46pm. Mike will be home soon.
Your eyes drift from the clock to the floor. A rather beaten up book lays half open, a ripped page on display.
You heave yourself off the couch and over to the book. You carefully pick it up and close it to see the cover.
Dream Theory. Interesting.
You flip to the back to read the blurb while walking back to the sofa.
You flop back onto the couch and flip to the first page. The seal documentary plays in the background, the narrator now detailing the wonders of how they hunt.
You prop your head up on the armrest and lay down, reading through the book.
Just as you’re getting invested in the book, you hear the lock unlock. Turning the TV off with a click, you turn around, only to be met with the sight of your exhausted boyfriend. You smile.
“Hey,” You greet as you get up and off the couch to meet him at the door.
Mike nods and grunts a small “Hey, baby.”
“How was work?”
Mike shrugs, and his gaze drifts down to the book in your hand. He blinks.
“You’re reading my book?” He asks curiously, causing you to glance to the book.
“Oh… yeah. Sorry.” You apologize bashfully and hand him the book, resting your other arm at your side.
Mike shakes his head dismissively at your apology. “What d’you think?”
You stare at him blankly. “…What?”
“The book. What do you think of the book? The theory?”
Realization dawns on you. When you see an eager glint in Mike’s eyes, you weakly shrug.
“I mean… I’m not too far in, but it seems interesting.”
A hint of a smile graces Mike’s lips. “So it seems possible.” You nod.
You smile softly at his excitement from your words.
“Anyways…” You wrap your arms around his neck for a hug. “How was work?” You ask again.
His arms loosely wrap around your waist as he buries his head into your neck. “Fine,” He murmurs quietly. “How’s Abby? Did she eat dinner?”
You smile at his worry for his sister. “Yeah. And she drew next to me afterwords.” At your words, you can feel Mike relax.
“She’s been doing better. You’ve been doing better. I can tell.” A low chuckle rumbles from his chest.
“I don’t know about that.” He murmurs dismissively into your shoulder.
You blink, frowning at his words. “What makes you say that? You haven’t dreamt of Garrett since Freddy’s, right?” You pull away from the hug and rest your hands on his shoulders. His hands come to rest on your hips as he sighs softly.
“Well, no…”
“So why do you say that?” You frown softly, bringing a hand to cup his face.
“Just… things have been going smoothly. Almost—almost too smoothly.” Mike mumbles, leaning into your touch as his eyes flutter closed.
You sigh again. “Mike… look at me,” He reluctantly opens his eyes, but his gaze rests on your chin instead of your eyes.
“You’re okay. You have a new job that has pretty okay pay and hours, both Abby and you are happier, and you know what happened to Garrett. Right?”
Mike stubbornly stares at your chin, staying silent.
“So why do you say that, baby?”
“I just…” Mike trails off. “…I’m used to having something to worry about.”
You frown. “What, and there’s nothing to worry about now?”
Mike blinks and slowly looks to your eyes. “…Huh?”
“I don’t mean to make you feel worse, but you still have things to worry about.”
You can see panic rise in Mike’s eyes. “What… what do I have to worry about?”
You smile fondly at your boyfriend.
“You gotta think of a present for me for our six-month anniversary.”
You can practically see the gears turning in the man’s head as he stares at you quizzically. Finally, he cracks a smile.
“…Weird way to comfort me.” He looks away, smiling to himself.
“Yeah, but what else would get you to smile?” Mike rolls his eyes, causing you to chuckle. Your gaze drifts to the kitchen, reminding you that Mike almost never has dinner when he works evenings.
“You didn’t have dinner, right? I’ll make you something.” You start to head to his kitchen to quickly make him something to eat.
“…Wait.” Mike murmurs softly, lightly grabbing your sleeve.
You turn to him curiously, only to see a slightly bashful Mike staring at the floor.
“…Sleep here tonight?”
You can feel yourself smiling. “Of course.”
Mike’s shoulders visibly relax.
“Now, let’s get you something to eat.”
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beenoeila · 2 months
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A list of underrated fics I adore.
▪️this don’t feel anything like sinking by
@dontcallmebree
A little over six weeks and his knee heals only for his breathing to act up. It may have been a handful of decades—coming up on a century, even—but he never did forget how it felt to wheeze through the night.
Steve sees it coming when Dr. Youssef tells him his lungs are taking a turn.
The year 2032 brings about the Summer Olympics, the coldest winter of the decade, and an end to Project Rebirth.
🔹 Learning to want by @luna-rainbow
Bucky is still trying to piece together his memories, but at least he now had Steve with him.
When Steve asks him if he wanted to meet with his sister, Becca, his response was, "I don't know about wants...I'll start with the shoulds."
Steve and Bucky goes for lunch with Becca. Steve and Bucky dealing with memory loss. Steve and Bucky being mutually pining idiots.
▪️better to speak or die by emilywithoutY (@between-a-ship-and-a-hard-place)
Summers in C. are as endless and hazy as when they were kids. All James wants is to play his part well enough that his mother stops looking at him with that twist of regret in her smile.
The only thing to break the sun-soaked monotony is the arrival of the new summer intern. While the rest of the household—and half the village—fawn over Steve Roger’s movie star looks and understated charm, James finds him aloof and his polite interest near unbearable.
But as they collide in vulnerable moments, the sparks of frustration ignite something neither has the power to stop.
Do you think Jonathan understood what happened that day David first stepped into his father’s court?
🔹The weapon remembers by pushdragon
The Winter Soldier finds old fantasies of Steve in his memory, and takes them for reality.
He's got two days to sort out all his mixed-up history, before he puts himself back in cryo freeze. Harder still, he's got to convince Steve to let him do it.
▪️Preberseeschießen by Ginny_Potter (@hipsterdiva)
Bucky takes his time, ignoring his comrades’ cheering and Gaiswinkler and Mariandl’s teasing. From his position, Steve only has an oblique view of Bucky’s face, which is mostly in the dark anyway – the strong line of his jaw, a smudge of grease on his cheekbone, a sweaty lock of hair curling on his forehead, his mouth pouting in concentration. Steve itches to draw him, to take out his battered sketchbook and reproduce that instant of perfect imperfection. Steve itches to touch him, push back his unruly curls, wipe away the smudge on his cheekbone, cup his face in his hands and…
Bucky breathes out and shoots. The bullet hits water… and there it is, the zapping sound of paper tearing.
The light turns on and off three times. Third circle. Just a lick out of bullseye.
The Howlies explode in cheers.
Or, the Howling Commandos play a shooting game with the Austrian Resistance and Steve has lots of unresolved feelings about himself, his new body, and his changing relationship with Bucky. In other words, comrades are comrades, angst looms, and Steve feels.
🔹Till there were no more wolves in the West
by @dharmasharks
“I’m afraid of a lot of things, Steve,” Bucky says softly.
“But this thing sticking in my heart—the part of me that’s yours? It is the best part of me. Maybe the only good part.” His rueful smile wavers. He makes a pained expression.
“What if it’s the only good part?” he asks.
Two Brooklyn boys find themselves aboard an orphan train headed west in 1854. Across farmland, war, and the lawless frontier, a childhood promise helps them find each other again.
(A Western SteveBucky retelling.)
▪️Hiraeth by ixalit
Hiraeth
noun /ˈhɪraɨ̯θ/
[Welsh] A homesickness or nostalgia, an earnest longing or desire, or a sense of regret. The feeling of longing for a home that never was.
🔹Undone by justanotherStonyfan
You’d think, given everything, that if one of them were going to regress, that if one of them were going to break down, it would be Bucky.
(Set mostly after Endgame - canon deaths remain but Steve doesn't leave)
▪️But You Can Hold Me (Only 'Cause It's a Cold Night in Brooklyn) by Voylitscope_speed (@voylitscope)
This should just be two friends getting off after the burlesque show. This should just be two pals both thinking about the girl. That would probably be okay, Bucky thinks.
But then he ruins it all when he says,
"Come here," and puts a hand out to tug on Steve's shoulder.
(Or: Sometimes, Bucky and Steve lend each other a hand, literally. Bucky tries not to be weird about it, but he's always been bad at controlling his thoughts about Steve.)
🔹Midlife Crisis by profoundalpacakitten
Steve isn’t expecting much of anything from life, he’s content to coast by, letting life flow past. Get up, get dressed, get to work, get home, get to sleep, rinse and repeat.
▪️ The Magic Touch by @broodybuck
The soldier is finally free but he has one big problem, he can't finish. Until he meets a man called Steve who apparently has the magic touch.
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chronicdisasterwrites · 7 months
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i’d keep you company in the dark
pairing: gojo satoru x reader
genre + warnings: - ANGST but FLUFFY ending!! jjk movie spoilers!! happens after the ending of jjk-0, death, sad gojo, kisses.
word count: 1,672
authors note: this was a request by my lovely @daisy-the-quake <3 it's a song-fic, inspired by the song "peaches” by grandson x k.flay
enjoy <3
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Your eyes shoot open as you lie still and unmoving. The blinking red light of the clock on your bedside table indicates midnight. Yet another nightmare, about the same thing. It starts with you standing face-to-face with Suguru. His face twisted with the sneer he had on when he came to the school to announce his plan; "The Night Parade of a Hundred Demons". You try to move but you can’t. You try to talk to him, try to convince him to listen to reason, but nothing comes out. He laughs, then it shifts and his laughing transitions into an irksome drone coming out of his ajar mouth. It turns into an incessant buzzing growing exponentially until it’s so loud you can’t see, think, or feel anything. And then the noise stops completely and you’re standing in the sky looking down at Satoru standing in an arena, alone, with a horde of shadows surrounding him. They all make their way toward him like ants capturing a crystal of sugar. You don't do anything. You don’t move or scream or fight. You feel like you don't even exist. Just when the shadows are about to swallow him whole does he look up at you, with hollow eyes and no will to survive.
The hammering of raindrops against your windows could’ve also been a factor, but the sweat on your face and the drumming of your heart indicate otherwise. Taking a few deep breaths you try to normalize your heartbeat. It was exhausting, having the same nightmare over and over again. Ever since Suguru died, all your dreams seemed to be about the same thing. Then you imagine, how Satoru must be feeling. You fall back into reality and realize Satoru’s side of the bed was abandoned. It had been a few days since Suguru died, and since then Satoru had been acting strangely. You never asked him straight up if he was okay, because you know he wasn’t. Of course, he wasn’t. So you tried to show him you were there if he wanted to talk, but he always laughed it off and changed the subject without showing a moment’s weakness. He was acting like nothing happened and life was just fine and dandy. The dream you had fills your mind with thoughts of Satoru losing his mind to the grief of losing his best friend and trudging down a path from which he could never return. You couldn't help him in your dream. Instead, you just stood there watching him get consumed by his demons. You bolt out of bed to look for him. He wasn’t in the apartment you both shared, so you made a guess and decided to trust your gut. You take your keys, wear a raincoat, take an umbrella, shove your phone in your pocket, and make your way to Jujutsu Tech.
Parking your motorcycle in front of the steps of the school you see him sitting on the steps, head downturned and raindrops ricocheting off his Infinity. Once you start climbing the steps, does he lift his head to give you a small smile, tired and sullen, not at all like his genuine smile. 
You sigh and sit next to him, shoulders touching and legs brushing. Your face was half-covered by the hood of the raincoat but some raindrops still fell on your nose and exposed hands. Hearing the familiar buzz of Satoru’s Infinity, you look up and watch the raindrops slide down around you, making you feel like you were encased in a snow globe. The pattering of raindrops sounded muted and you felt safe and protected from the terrors of the world. So, this is how Satoru feels? 
“What brings you here?”
You remove your hood and look into his dull eyes. Shrugging, you reply with a tender voice, “I couldn’t find you so I figured you’d be here.” 
Satoru huffs, looking away and linking his hands together over his knees, “I’m fine before you ask.”
Gojo Satoru was a complex human being. Sometimes people tend to forget he is a human being, thanks to his charisma, strength, and holier-than-thou attitude. But that’s all he was; a human being, blessed burdened with the strength of a God. The ever-present smile on his dazzling face makes you forget that he’s not a shiny person. But when his eyes dim and his smile falls in the dark of the night when a million eyes aren’t on him you realize just how bruised and battered he is. 
You release a tired breath. He thinks he’s all alone in this world. He thinks no one can ever help him with anything because no one is as strong as him. The world always revolved around him, his strength, his power, his name. No one could ever equal him, so he believes it’s only fair for him to carry his burdens and sorrows on his own.
“Y’know Satoru…” He glances at you and quirks a thin, silver eyebrow. You stare ahead, picking at the skin around your nails. 
“You’re not alone. As much as you want to believe you are, you aren’t. So, if you aren’t gonna let me in, that’s fine. Just- please let yourself feel without putting on a front.”
You hear him exhale and watch him hang his head down from your peripheral vision. 
“What’s the point?” He mutters under his breath. The only reason you could hear him at all was because his Infinity dulled the noise in the outside world. 
This time you stare at his downturned head and you can’t stop yourself from speaking, “What’s the point? The point is that you don’t have to do this alone. You don’t have to hurt alone. I want you to share your pain with me! Yeah sure, you can get through this alone. You can shove it under the rug, but just this once, don’t be the strongest. Just let me hurt with you, let’s get through this together. Please, Satoru.”
He lifts his head and stares you straight in your eyes. You know how much he’s hurting. His world turned upside down and everything changed. He had to watch his friend plummet into the darkness and he had to be the one to deliver the final blow. His heart is shattered and you’re scared there’s absolutely nothing you can do about it. The only thing you can do is be by his side and try to pick up his broken pieces.   
He exhales a shaky breath as his eyes glisten like a dewdrop on a blade of grass, “Can we get through this?” 
You reach out your hand and move a couple of strands of his hair from his vision. You let your hand lie against his warm cheek and he lets his eyes shut, “I know everything went to shit. But it’s not permanent, Satoru. I don’t know if things will get better, but we can only hope, right?”
He takes your hand in his own and runs his thumb over your knuckles.
“Yeah. We can only hope.”
He sighs and stares at your hand, “I miss him.”
“I know…”
You squeeze his hand and he squeezes back. It’s dark, except for a few streetlights. You think he’d enjoy a piece of cake or something sweet right about now. You open your mouth to ask him when he beats you to it, “Things won’t be the same.”
Your mouth hangs open and you wait as he continues speaking, “It might get better, it might get worse. Honestly? It doesn’t matter. We can’t really afford to be optimistic with a life like ours.” He lets out a humorless laugh. Looking at you, he gives you a gentle smile and leans forward to kiss your forehead. He lingers there for a quiet moment as the rain serenades you both.
“We’ll get through this.” 
You love him so much. Looking at his beautiful, weary face, you smile and leave a chaste kiss on his lips. Stealing another kiss, he brushes a few strands of hair away from your face, “I love you, y’know that?” 
Smiling, you stand and give him your hand, “Yeah, I love you too.”
He holds your hand and stops you on your way down the stairs, “Hey…I'm sorry for being selfish. I know you’re hurting too. I don’t want you to think I don't notice that.”
Turning back to look at him, you caress his knuckles with your thumb, “It's okay, Satoru-”
“No, it's not.” He stands on the upper step, looking down at you with tender eyes, "D'you have another nightmare? Is that why you woke up?" He traces the dark circles under your eyes and keeps his thumb on the apple of your cheek.
You sigh and close your eyes momentarily, "Yeah..."
"You wanna talk about it?"
Your free fingers wrap around his slender wrist as you look up at his glittering, blue eyes. "Maybe later." He nods.
You both walk down the steps, your hand warm in his. By now the rain had slowed down to a soft patter. He notices the umbrella tied on the backseat of your motorcycle and quirks an eyebrow, “Why’d you bring this?”
You offer a sheepish smile and take out your keys from your pocket, “I- uh, figured you might need it. I thought you’d deactivate your Infinity and sit in the rain or something… So y’know I didn’t want you to waste all your energy covering us both from the rain but I guess that’s exactly what you did so it was pretty usele-”
Your rambling was immediately shut down by the press of his lips against yours. You feel him smile into the kiss and your heart feels so warm. I love him so much. Hugging you, he rests his chin on your head, “Thank you.” 
You think it’s ironic how you’re shivering from the cold yet feeling so incredibly warm at the same time. He chuckles and unties the umbrella taking a seat on the backseat of your bike, “Let’s go home, yeah?”  
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a/n: well, after chapter 236 this sure is a knife to the heart.
taglist: @thepup356, @porridgesblog, @stray-npc, @daisy-the-quake, @reignsaway, @ainetx, @icarusignite, @mariapierce789, @laylasbunbunny, @r0ckst4rjk
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Text
Doctor's Orders
a james wilson x gn!reader one-shot
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SUMMARY: Wilson sprains his ankle, and you get to take care of him.
WARNINGS: minor injury (a sprained ankle)
WORD COUNT: 1217
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The sound of faint laughter and televisions echoing through the hallways of your building made you feel at ease. It had been a long day, and to say you were relieved to finally be home was an understatement. You reciprocated James’ warm smile as you walked through the door he was holding open to your condo complex. 
"Oh, do we need to check the mailbox?" you asked him, in a half-whisper. He shook his head, and you ascended the well-worn staircase leading to your cozy condo, with James trailing just a step behind.
“Anyway, like I was saying, I think it gets too much hate. It was a fun movie,” you exclaimed, continuing up the stairs. James responded with a disapproving shake of his head.
“Agree to disagree,” he retorted playfully.
You sighed. “I’m never going to be able to convince you otherwise, am I?”
“Not a chance,” he replied, allowing his gaze to momentarily linger from the stairs to admire your presence. “And I’m never going to forgive them for what they did to–”
Suddenly, a resonant thud echoed behind you, followed by a pained groan. You gasped, and your hand instinctively flew to cover your mouth.
“Oh– James, are you okay?”
He groaned in pain. Your heart pounded as you leaned your bag against the post at the top of the staircase before you rushed to help him.
“Here, let me help you up,” you offered, placing his arm around your shoulders and assisting him back onto his feet. He winced as his injured foot touched the ground, and you gripped the handrail tightly as you bore his weight.
"These damn stairs,” James muttered, “I really should learn to be more careful.”
"It happens to the best of us,” you reassured him, sympathetically. “Let’s get you inside and sit you down, then we can take a look at it.”
You left him waiting at the top of the stairs as you descended again to retrieve his briefcase. 
“Thanks,” he said softly, smiling fondly at you as you picked up your own bag and helped him limp to the door to his condo. Once inside, you eased him onto the sofa.
Sitting across from him on a cushioned footstool, you looked at him expectantly as he carefully examined his injury for a few minutes. You were comforted by the familiar impression of intense focus on his face; you’d seen it in his eyes doing everything from the New York Times crossword puzzle to diagnosing his cancer patients. You could practically see the gears turning in his brain when the radiator's subtle hum, unnoticed until then, ceased, leaving behind a quiet void in your condo. After a few more minutes, the weight of the silence finally became unbearably uncomfortable, and you asked:
“So… what is it?”
“Well,” he sighed, looking up at you, “I don’t think it’s broken. It feels like it’s just a sprain. Some ice, compression, rest… and I should be fully healed in a few weeks,” he said, before lifting himself onto his feet. You got up from your seat and stopped him before he could make another move.
“Okay, but the acronym is RICE. Which, if I remember correctly, means the the first rule of healing a sprained ankle… is to rest,” you pointed out, matter-of-factly. 
“Yeah, but the next one is ice. I’m going to get ice before I res–”
“Hey,” you said, looking at him with feigned sternness. His eternally pleading eyes made it so hard to get genuinely angry with him. You placed your hand on his chest and lightly coaxed him back down onto the sofa. He pursed his lips and obliged, never breaking eye contact. 
“I know you’re a fancy doctor and everything but just… let me take care of you, okay? Relax, I’ll get you what you need,” you said, softening your tone and tenderly stroking his face with your thumb. You sealed your sentiment with a gentle kiss on his cheek before heading to the kitchen to get ice. James’ gaze softened and he smiled as he watched you make your way to the freezer before he picked up the nearest magazine. He swiveled on the sofa to lay back and let his injured foot rest on the armrest.
When you returned with some ice wrapped in a towel and a compression wrap, you found James nodded off with his magazine open on his stomach. You lightened your footsteps as you approached him to avoid disturbing him, a gentle smile creeping onto your face. Kneeling on the floor by his head, you cupped his face with your hand and gingerly stroked his cheek, then lightly ran your fingers through his soft curls, stirring him awake. 
“Hmm?” 
“Sorry, I couldn’t help myself.” Your fingers tingled as you felt him melt under your touch. “I got some ice and a bandage. For compression, right?”
“Yeah,” he said, rubbing his eyes. You got up off the ground, pulled the footstool over to the sofa’s armrest, and applied the ice to his ankle. He lifted his head just barely enough to see what you were doing. There was a subtle glint of worry in his eye, and you reassured him it was going to be okay.
“You can go back to sleep, you know,” you whispered. James let his head fall backwards and stared blankly at the ceiling, letting his thoughts wander, first shuffling through his list of dying patients, then to plotting how he was going to get back at House for that stupid prank he had pulled on him earlier, then to how he forgot to ask Cuddy about the budget for new equipment for the oncology department, and finally back to you. Every aspect of his job as an oncologist dictated that he was to be a caretaker, and to have someone take care of him was overwhelming, in a good way. As a generally independent person, he wasn’t used to being shown this level of compassion. He felt his heart grow warm thinking about how lucky he was to have you looking after him, how good you were to him, and how much he loved you.
“All done,” you whispered, satisfied with your work. Wilson once again looked up at his now-bandaged foot, then at you. His movement startled you briefly, as you assumed he had gone back to sleep like you had suggested. “Woah, I thought you were asleep? I was just about to go get a sticker for you, you were very well behaved,” you grinned.
He rolled his eyes playfully and unsuccessfuly tried to suppress a smile. “That’s a solid wrapping job, perfect even.” he approved. Your eyes sparkled with pride, and he instantly felt a familiar warm, fuzzy sensation coursing through him. Just as he was about to open his mouth to speak, you planted a tender kiss on his lips that left him feeling entirely flushed, and as you were about to walk away, he grabbed your hand and pulled you back in for another kiss, this time more passionate. 
“Mmm… just what the doctor ordered.” His warm breath lingered against your skin, and his expression turned more serious as he looked into your eyes. “I love you, you know,” he confessed, earnestly.
“I know,” you giggled. “I love you too.”
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@iamthatonefangirl @dr-juliaogden
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badasmuse · 4 months
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“Boss Ass Bitch”
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Reader x Half of Team Bebe😉
Warnings: 18+ (MDNI), language, lowercase intended, cheating bada, mostly oral, some fingering
Summary: bada is a liar and a cheat. you just have to get your lick back.
Based off this beauty here
rule number one to be a boss ass bitch, never let a clown try to play you.
the words of boss ass bitch by nicki minaj echoed through your head as you drove 95 down the freeway to get back home. you were pissed and just so happened to turn on nicki minaj radio on spotify and that was the first song to play. you kept replaying the events that just happened.
“so this whole time.. this whole time you had another bitch? you were playing me?” you say in disbelief.
“i wouldn’t necessarily say i was playing you.. but i mean yeah.” bada says shrugging.
you scoff as you look over her shoulder and see the other girl peeking out from behind the wall. “so what was the point in keeping me around?”
“you give good head.”
you suck your teeth, nodding your head and walking out the door.
“that long bitch.” you mutter as you stormed into your apartment. your belgian malinois perks up at the sound of you coming in. you flop on the couch, bouncing your leg angrily. atlas, your dog, puts his head on your lap and looks at you.
“i’m gonna get that bitch back atlas just wait.” you say to him, rubbing his ears. then you remember the song..
if he play you then rule number two, fuck his best friends and make them yes men.
*
“i’m so glad you called to hang out!” tatter says excitedly as she sits next to you on your couch. some movie is playing in the background but you don’t really care about it.
“mhm me too.” you say, placing a hand on her thigh. you rub it gently, trailing your hand higher up.
“y/n..” she says, almost with a warning tone, “stop it.”
you sigh dramatically moving your hand, “fine.” you pout. but that doesn’t last for long cause next thing you know, her lips are on yours and she’s pushing you down on the couch.
finally.
in the blink of an eye. your clothes are off and her head is between your legs. your hand tangles in her hair as you moan loudly. “shit tatter you’re so good at that.” you cry out as she inserts a finger into you, her tongue dancing around your clit.
“you taste so good.” she mumbles.
reaching over to the table, you grab your phone and quickly take a picture of her before exploding all over her face.
*
you didn’t know this would be so damn easy. you straight up went to lusher and asked her to eat you out and she was on her knees, practically worshiping your cunt. you came once already but she wouldn’t let up. her tongue swirled all around you. her face was messy and covered in your juices. she didn’t give not one fuck. you let out a cry as she sucks on your clit harder.
“fuck lusher let up a bit i’m not going anywhere.” you say pulling her long hair.
she whines, clawing at your thighs, “please i want more.” she’s absolutely pussy drunk.
you let out a sigh as she sticks her fingers back in. while she’s distracted you grab your phone to take a picture of her.
*
“fuck minah just like that.” you gasp.
“yeah? does it feel good? you taste good.” she says pumping her fingers in and out of you. your back arches and she giggles.
“looks like your gonna cum baby.. gonna cum on my fingers? or maybe my face?”
you didn’t know she could be this.. dominant. this fucking sexy. “minah.. minah please.” you cry, reaching for your phone.
“please what? use your words slut.” she slaps your clit and you almost drop your phone. “aw do you want memories of this? let me slow down so you don’t cum mid picture.” she says, her fingers slowing down. she puts her mouth on your clit and your eyes roll back.
you take the picture shakily and moan loudly as her fingers hit your gspot, making you cum all over her hand.
*
it took some convincing when it came to kyma, but she finally caved after you told her you’d buy her food from her favorite restaurant.
“i don’t know why you wanted this so bad.” she says, pushing you down on her bed. she aggressively pulls your pants off, putting your leg on her shoulder, attaching her mouth to your cunt, and finally sticking her tongue into your hole.
“just… wanted.. fuck.” you say quietly.
“you just wanted fuck? that doesn’t make sense.” she says curling her fingers up.
you ignore her smart ass remark and moan loudly. “fuck! do that again! i’m gonna cum!” you cry out.
“you sure you don’t want to get your picture first?”
your breath hitches and you look at her, “h-huh?” you stutter.
“get your picture.” she says sucking on your clit.
you reach for your phone taking the picture of kyma between your legs.
send a red heart and send a kissy face, and tell him how his friends love how your pussy tastes
*
tattertot: we know what you’re doing.
the text comes in as soon as you wake up from your nap. you blink a few times and laugh.
you: hope you don’t mind. i was just getting back at your friend for playing me🤭
tattertot: how are you gonna do that?
you: the pictures? i’m about to send them to her😉i owe you four😘
you quickly swipe out the chat and open yours and bada’s messages.
attachments: 4 images
you: ❤️😘
you: your friends love how my pussy tastes🤸🏽
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Taglist (open! comment to be added!): @waveartistry @sun-nyy @yngtort @jennamc75 @m0r0s1111 @seungxstar @badasbebe @lil-elliesgf @currentfications
a/n: bada keeps sending messages through mnet plus chat it’s like she knows i’m doing this. anyways HEY GUYTH!!! i have a few requests that i’m working on but i had this (and two other things) on my mind so… be ready🤸🏽
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nnnyxie · 7 months
Note
Could we get headcanons for masked!Pro!Izuku x Fan!reader??? Masked au as in Hero identities are secret and we‘re besties with Izu and have no idea he is our ‚celebrity‘ crush and we own like tons of merch and a card board cut out and all- idk is that too specific?? Or weird?? Hsbfikskss
OHTMAGDK MY FIRST MHA REQ???? YES!!!
i absolutely adore this idea <3
and baby trust me this is not weird at all!! (i’ve gotten some odd requests, do not fret sweetheart)
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y’all have that like— MJ and spiderman dynamic, before she knew he was spiderman. (the tobey maguire ver. first movie ofc ofc) (i love spiderman btw)
anyways.
whenever he hears you gush about your crush on the sweet ol pro hero deku— he always gets all quiet.
you assume that it’s cause he’s letting you rant about how much you adore this hero but nope!!!
our boy is doing his best not to explode!!
he knows that he has fans and he knows that his fans have those small appreciative ‘celebrity’ crushes on him!!
but, you being one of those fans?? you being one of those fans who have that little crush?? it makes his heart swell and stomach churn.
you, dear reader, are so clumsy (projecting…) and you somehow find yourself in trouble quite often!
especially since you quite LITERALLY stumble into danger. like. literally. it just happens. canon event, you cannot stop it! (/ref)
back to the program
i like to think that you guys go shopping together!! cause shopping with friends (wink) is so fun<3
whenever you go out you HAVE to buy merch of pro hero deku!! and he gets all fluttery when you do!!
(also we’re not going to talk about the secret cardboard cutout that he found in your closet when looking for a sweatshirt. he could’ve died right then and there /pos)
now. one day, you stumble in on a drug deal (jfc…) cause you were looking for smthn in your bag and didn’t wanna be in the way of people.
obviously things go awry. the druggie men (one looks like he could be a mafia boss??) grab you and throw you deeper into the alleyway you chose.
luckily our pro hero deku was on patrol! he witnessed the men shoving you to the ground and pulling out weapons.
now, deku doesn’t usually jump straight into fighting, no— he tries to reason first. he tries to convince them to put their weapons down and see that this whole ordeal is dumb. but— this time??
he jumped straight into action. he hurdle himself over the small concrete edge of the building he was on one of the men.
straight up knocked the guy unconscious. dude was out cold. dead asleep. concussed.
this would also be the first of many saves.
the next couple of times were just small things—
like pulling you away from oncoming cars (aka drivers who weren’t paying attention) when he was patrolling in your area
about the,,,,, 7th?? time he saved you— he just couldn’t believe how you were always getting yourself in these situations.
he’ll ask, “how do you keep getting yourself into situations like these?” half serious, half joking
“not sure but, i’m lucky you’re always there to save me,” you’d reply, good lord your heart would racing.
he’ll laugh and sport a blush under his mask. you’ll feel a slight churn in your stomach (not a bad one) because— he sounds so familiar.
you go back home— feeling giddy because he finally spoke to you— yes he’s talked to you before but— they weren’t sentences. they were small ‘be safe’s and ‘watch out’s.
you immediately call up izuku, needing to talk to someone about this. and he’s trying to hide his blush as you compliment the hero, as you compliment him.
it’s a dim, snowy day that he saves you, again. it’s cold and your lips were chapped because the air was dry.
once again, you find yourself in an alleyway. surrounded by ‘villains’.
he, of course, saves you. just like the last time.
“you might need to become a homebody,” he jokes, he’s frustratingly concerned.
“that’d be no fun, how else would i see you?”
where the hell did that come from? that really wasn’t a ‘you’ thing to say.
pls the way you left— you got so embarrassed omg
as soon as you were at home, you, once again, called izuku!! and he went to your house an hour after.
he listened to you rant about how you embarrassed yourself in front of deku and how you could never face him again. you said “i’d rather be shanked by a villain than face him again. i can’t believe i said that.”
you were hot with embarrassment and honestly felt the urge to cry (or is that just a me thing?)
“it wasn’t embarrassing, plus, i’d rather you not shank yourself because of me.”
“what?”
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i’m sorry if this wasn’t what you were hoping for <//3
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estrellami-1 · 7 months
Text
Steddie Microfic
September prompt: charm
Word count: 548
No warnings apply
Rated G
@steddiemicrofic
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This is Eddie’s third try.
That’s a sportsball thing, right? Three strikes and you’re out.
Eddie hopes he doesn’t strike out.
His first try had been completely abysmal, in which he’d walked into Family Video, promptly gotten flustered and nervous and tongue-tied, grabbed Rocky Horror Picture Show, and walked out after paying.
That wouldn’t have been as horrible as it actually was had he not already owned Rocky Horror Picture Show.
The second time was slightly better, if only because that time he’d actually managed to flirt a little.
He doesn’t entirely remember the exchange, is the thing. He knows it happened, and according to Robin he and Steve were flirting for roughly five minutes straight until another customer (“a real customer, Munson, as opposed to your freeloading ass,” Robin had teased) had walked in.
Eddie had walked out without renting anything, but that’s alright. Half the time he walks in, he walks back out empty-handed.
And, okay, maybe this being the third try is a slightly conservative answer.
He’d thought about it before, is the thing; thought about leaning over the island in Steve’s kitchen, kissing his pout as he’s focused on assembling sandwiches. He’d thought about reaching just that little bit more, “accidentally” past the popcorn bowl during movie night, brushing the backs of his fingers against the back of Steve’s hand.
He’d thought about truly terrible pick up lines—falling from heaven as an example—and swiping that little piece of hair off his forehead.
He’d thought about Steve’s reactions. How maybe he’d kiss back, maybe he’d twine their fingers together. Maybe he’d roll his eyes, blush.
Maybe he’d scoff, disgusted, and ignore Eddie.
Robin had tried to convince Eddie that wouldn’t happen, and he finally believes her, at least enough to take a leap of faith and try.
He walks into Family Video like he would any other day, making a beeline straight for the counter. “Robin,” he sings, gripping the edge and leaning over until his toes are scraping the ground. “‘S he here?”
“Depends,” she hums. “You gonna do it? Or chicken out again?”
Eddie collapses onto the counter with a groan. “You wound me, Buckley,” he says, before popping up when he hears Steve’s voice.
“Hey, Eddie!”
He looks around and spots Steve waving from his position in an aisle. He grins and makes his way over. “Stevie!” He says. “Your soulmate is being mean to me.”
Steve snorts and rolls his eyes. “Yeah, she’s mean to me, too.” Robin squawks, and Steve sticks his tongue out at her. Eddie’s in love.
“So, um.” He clears his throat, looks at the movies Steve is shelving. Rom-coms. “There’s-” he pauses, worrying at his bottom lip.
Steve looks at him, concerned. “Eds?”
“Just.” He squeezes his eyes shut. “I need you to not punch me if it’s not true, okay? I’d prefer you not hate me either but I’d understand if you did, if I were in your shoes I’d probably hate me, but just. You- please don’t tell anyone.”
Steve’s brows furrow. “You’re started to scare me, Eds.”
“Fuck,” Eddie mutters. “Sorry, just. I’m not good at this.” He takes a breath. “Um. Would you like to go on a date with me?”
Steve grins. “I’d love to.”
Turns out, third time’s the charm.
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frostluvrs · 9 months
Text
sofia wylie is an incredibly talented actress and performer that has been giving amazing monologues and acting performances like she gave in gina’s goodbye speech in 4x08 since forever and instead of appreciating her for that and also appreciating how far her singing has improved since s1 (when she’s never been a singer) half this fandom consistently tries to dim her light and overshadow her because they cannot let go of a Certain actress and a Certain real life relationship they still obsess over to this day. any time without fail she gets shine whether it be a performance of hers or a scene with ricky as character they come out of the woodworks talking about they miss olivia and it could have been her. every time she has a big scene and/or duet as gina with ricky they constantly bring up a duet or scene between rini and talk about how nothing can compare when we All know they’re talking about that certain real life relationship and not the actual characters; especially because the only scene they ever talk about is ricky’s confession and that’s because they’re obsessed with the fact it was improvised bc of that certain real life relationship.
and then they’ll pretend they like sofia and their comments aren’t in bad faith when it happens constantly in so many ways and has been since s1 (trying to convince people that joshua didn’t like her and sending her hate for liking rina being examples). they’ll get mad at you when you tell them to stop spamming every video of hers that has to do with hsmtmts that she “looks like olivia rodrigo” by saying it’s not that deep and it’s a compliment. would you want your comment section obnoxiously filled with how you look like someone else and that be the only thing they focus on? and we all know whenever they try to weirdly say it about gina they really just are trying to think of her as nini because they can’t let go of That relationship.
i love hsmtmts but one of the reasons i’m glad it’s ended is so sofia can eventually move on to a show or movie that doesn’t have a fandom (and unprofessional journalists and news outlets like entertainment weekly who literally is cutting her out of videos and the daily beast with their terrible s4 reviews) that is constantly trying to dim her light.
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chelseachilly · 5 months
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i watched it begin again
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pairing: reader x ben chilwell summary: ever since your last relationship ended badly, you've lost all hope in love. until your best friend convinces you to go on a date with her bf's friend ben warnings: none word count: 2.7k
author's note: this is just a short little something inspired by one of my favourite songs, begin again by taylor swift ❤️ and bc the thought of a first date with ben is just so perfect to me 😌
-
As you sit in an Uber on your way to Marylebone, fidgeting nervously with the hem of your dress, you can’t help but wonder how you got here.
It took a lot of convincing - to be precise, three glasses of white wine, some chocolates, and the agreement to watch your favourite movie on Netflix that night - for your best friend to convince you to go on this date last weekend.
Mia, one of your closest friends since you were kids, knows better than anyone how reluctant you’ve been to return to dating life ever since your last relationship ended catastrophically. Your last boyfriend, Jack, who had also been your first serious one, had completely broken your heart eight months ago. 
After two years together, just when you were beginning to think about taking the next step and move in with him, you caught him cheating on you with in his flat with a coworker he had sworn was just a friend. You were so completely devastated by this betrayal and the sudden end of your relationship that you haven’t so much as downloaded a dating app or talked to a guy at a bar since. 
Your friends have been loving and supportive of your decision to stay single for a while, but ever since Mia started seeing her boyfriend Harvey a couple months ago, she’s been pestering you to meet one of his friends. She’s told you several times that his mate Ben is perfect for you, but based on the little you know, you’re not sure you agree.
She showed you his Instagram a while back and, although there’s no questioning that he’s quite attractive, you don’t know if a fancy, famous footballer is the right choice to ease back into dating. You doubted that you would be his type, either, but when Mia insisted that Ben was interested and free this Thursday, you finally gave in. 
You figured the worst that could happen is you realize you’re not ready to date again or that there isn’t a connection between you and you wasted one evening having dinner with a stranger. 
But now that you’re sitting in this car, about to go on an actual date for the first time in forever, you feel like you might explode with nerves. You don’t remember how to flirt, how to tell someone about yourself, how to act cool and composed. You could be totally awkward and weird and he might never want to see you again. 
Or, even worse, you could fall madly in love, only for him to end up breaking your heart. That’s the far more terrifying possibility.
You have half a mind to ask the driver to turn around and take you back home, but you force yourself not to. Mia would be upset with you, and you figure you owe it to her not to stand up Harvey’s friend for no real reason.
Your hands are shaking slightly as you get out of the car and enter the restaurant. You consider waiting outside for him, as you’re a couple minutes early and he probably isn’t here yet, but it’s freezing out right now, so you decide to head in. 
“Hi, do you have a reservation?” the hostess asks you, and you nod a bit shyly. 
“Yes, it should be under Chilwell? But I’m early, so I can just wait-"
“Right this way,” she says with a smile, motioning for you to follow her. 
It’s a small restaurant, with no more than ten tables, most of them occupied. There are candles burning and soft music is playing, the atmosphere somehow romantic without being cheesy. 
You feel slightly more at ease knowing it’s not some insanely posh place like you were half-expecting it to be, and then you lock eyes with your date. 
Your stomach erupts with butterflies - something you also weren’t quite expecting - when you see him, immediately realizing that the photos Mia showed you did not do him justice. 
He’s gorgeous, with bright blue eyes that light up when he sees you and wavy dark hair that you could spend hours running your fingers through. He quickly stands up as you approach the table, smoothing out any wrinkles in the dark blue trousers he’s wearing, paired with a black knit jumper and Nikes.
You can hear Mia’s words echoing in your ears: “Harv swears he has a heart of gold. He had a bad breakup last year too, so you’re in the same boat. Just give him a chance and see how it goes!”
“Y/N!” Ben smiles, greeting you with a quick hug. “It’s good to finally meet you, Mia’s talked a lot about you.” 
Oh, god, you think to yourself, hoping your best friend hasn’t overhyped you too much. 
“Good to meet you too,” you say, returning his smile. “And that sounds like Mia, she talks a lot about everything.” 
“That’s probably why she and Harv work so well,” he quips.
Ben is still standing quite close to you, and it takes you a moment to realize he’s pulled out your chair for you to sit down. You’re not sure if a guy has ever done that for you before. 
You oblige, taking the seat and letting him push you in before sitting across from you. Something your mum told you when you were a kid about how a gentleman behaves comes to mind, but you try not to let your mind wander too much. It’s been about twenty seconds, there’s plenty of time for him to prove right your current theory that all men are trash. 
“Thanks for choosing the restaurant,” you say to fill the silence, glancing around you. “It’s really nice.”
“Yeah, I come here a lot,” Ben replies. “It’s low key, which I kinda like. Mostly old people and stuff. I was actually just starting to worry you’d think it was a bit lame for a first date.”
“I don’t,” you say quickly. “I’m good with low key.”
Ben smiles at you, and you’re not sure if it’s him or the candlelight making your face feel warmer all of a sudden. 
“You look gorgeous, by the way,” he says a bit shyly. “I should’ve said that sooner.”
“Oh, thanks.” You’re certain now that you’re blushing. “So do you. I mean, you look very - not that you’re not gorgeous, men can totally be-"
You meet Ben’s gaze, your cheeks flushed with embarrassment, but you find no judgement in his eyes - he’s smiling at you even more now, the kind of smile that makes you feel completely at ease.
You just met this man, and yet you feel completely safe with him. 
“Sorry, this is my first date in nearly three years, I’m a bit rusty,” you admit. 
“No, you’re good,” Ben says gently. “Mia mentioned you recently got out of a long-term relationship.”
“Not that recently anymore, but…yeah,” you say. “It was a bit of a shit show. We were together two years and then one day I walked in on him sleeping with another girl. Not exactly an amicable breakup.”
Ben’s face falls. “Oh, I’m so sorry, Y/N. What a piece of shit.”
“Yeah, he really was,” you say, nodding your head. “Obviously, it was for the best, though. Better I find out he’s a lying cheater now than ten years down the line, right?”
“Definitely,” Ben agrees, “you want something to drink?”
After a couple glasses of wine and the most amazing pasta dish you’ve ever had in your life, you feel like you’ve known the person sitting across from you for years, rather than hours. 
You talk about everything - your job, his football career, your families, your friends. You talk about your ex a bit more, and then he opens up about his. There’s a nagging feeling in the back of your mind that you’re sharing too much with him, but a far stronger one telling you that this is right. It’s a feeling you’ve never had before, not with your ex and not on any other first date you had before him.
You don’t even realize how much time has passed until you look around and realize you’re the only ones left in the restaurant.
“They’re probably closing soon,” you comment, though you don’t really want to leave. 
“Twenty minutes ago, actually,” Ben says. You raise an eyebrow, and he scratches the back of his head and smiles. “Uh, I may have offered the owner a hundred quid to stay open a bit longer while you were in the loo. I’ve been having a really nice time talking to you.”
Your heart thumps in your chest, your eyes nearly beginning to water at the gesture. 
“I’ve been having a really nice time with you, too.”
After you finish your drinks and Ben pays the cheque, not even hearing out your offer to split it, you head back out into the chilly London night together. 
“I’m just gonna call an Uber,” you say, pulling out your phone with one hand and rubbing your shoulders for warmth with the other. 
“I’m parked right around the corner, I’d be happy to drive you?” Ben offers. 
You remember that he declined a second glass of wine earlier, stating that he was driving - a stark contrast from your ex, who would frequently call you to pick him and his car up from the pub after he got too pissed to drive home. 
“You really don’t have to, it’s pretty late,” you protest.
“It’s no big deal,” Ben assures you. He then shrugs off his jacket and wraps it around your shoulders without hesitation, putting an end to your clearly obvious shivering. “So you don’t freeze on the way to the car.”
You smile gratefully, unable to articulate with words how much this simple gesture means to you. 
As you walk side by side, you can’t help but admire the Christmas lights already strung up on the shops and houses you pass. 
“I love this time of year,” you say. “It’s so magical.”
“Same here,” Ben smiles. “Christmas in London is the best. Do you have any plans for the holidays this year?” 
Your brain briefly flits back to the ski trip you and your ex went on the past two years right before Christmas. A week ago, you were dreading that time coming, knowing you would end up being nostalgic for those trips and start missing him again, but somehow, that feeling seems to have vanished. 
“Just going home to see my parents,” you say. “You?”
“Yeah, we always have games around Christmas, so my family usually comes to mine and we do a big dinner on Christmas Day, then they come see me play on Boxing Day,” Ben tells you. “After the game, we always go get hot chocolate and go ice skating. My little sister suggested it when she was a bit younger, and it sort of stuck.”
The combination of Ben’s coat over your shoulders and the way your heart is melting at his sweet words makes your entire body feel warmer. 
“That’s a great tradition,” you say, looking over at him with a smile and gently bumping your arm against his. 
You arrive at Ben’s car and he opens the door for you to get in, his hand brushing against yours as you do so, and the brief touch is enough to drive you crazy. 
The drive to your flat isn’t too long, and conversation continues to flow easily between the pair of you. You can’t help but steal a glance at Ben from time to time as he drives, admiring the way the streetlights reflect in his beautiful ocean blue eyes. 
There’s a bit of a pang in your chest when he pulls up in front of your building and you know this is the end of the most incredible night you’ve had in ages. 
“Walk you to your door?” Ben offers, and you nod without hesitation.
He once again comes around to open your door for you - you know you have a low bar right now, but you’re seriously in awe of what a gentleman he’s being. 
Once you’ve arrived at the door to your flat, you turn around to face Ben, and he has a bit of an inquisitive expression on his face.
“I had a really nice time tonight,” he says softly. 
“So did I,” you say sincerely. “Thanks for dinner, and the lift home, and…just, erm, for being so wonderful.”
His cheeks now flushed with red, Ben takes a small step closer to you, and your gaze automatically falls to his lips. You want him to kiss you, you’re sure of it, but some part of you is still completely terrified of where this might go if you do. 
“Can I…” Ben murmurs, tenderly reaching up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, and once again, you don’t hesitate. 
“Yes.”
He slowly leans in until his lips are pressed to yours, one hand gently cupping your face and the other resting on your waist. You hold his hand that rests on your cheek as you kiss him back, your lips slowly moving together in perfect harmony.
It’s fun and new and exciting to kiss him, but mostly, just like everything has this evening, it feels right.
When you pull away, it takes a moment for your eyes to remember how to open. When you do, you’re met with an awestruck grin on Ben’s face that you’re pretty sure you’re mirroring yourself. 
“Wow,” you breathe. “Been a long time since I’ve done that.”
You’re not sure if you mean kissing or falling for someone - perhaps both. 
“Me too,” Ben whispers, kissing you once more. “I think we’re pretty good at it.”
You nod, grasping at his shirt as you find yourself swaying slightly, intoxicated by his kisses and his gaze. 
“Maybe we should do it again to be sure,” you joke.
He wastes no time leaning down to kiss you again, and again, and again until you’ve lost all track of time. 
Eventually, he pulls away and takes a small step back, and you miss his lips already.
“I should probably get going,” he says, though you can tell he doesn’t really want to. You have half a mind to invite him inside, but you know it’s better to take things slow, especially when there’s a chance this could really be something. “Can I - erm, would you want to-“
“Yes, please,” you cut him off with a grin. “Text me when you get home?”
You’re already eagerly anticipating a second date - the sooner the better, honestly, despite your wishes to take it slow. 
“Definitely,” Ben says, nodding eagerly. “Have a good night, Y/N.”
He begins to turn to walk away, and you watch him get halfway to his car before fumbling for your keys and entering your flat with a giddy smile on your face. 
You realize you haven’t checked your messages all night, so you quickly return Mia’s texts. 
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You flip down on your couch, still smiling like a fool, and it’s only then that you realize you’re still wearing Ben’s jacket. After panicking for a second, you quickly reach for your phone again.
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You nearly throw your phone with excitement, counting down the seconds until you get to see him again and thanking your lucky stars that you agreed to go out tonight.
You thought that love died that terrible day eight months ago, that your chance at happiness was over, but now you can’t help but wonder if there’s a reason things ended the way they did. 
Maybe to make way for something better to begin. 
-
please let me know what you thought, i hope you liked this story! i have some more in the works, including a super fluffy christmas one-shot 💓
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