#grass is always greener au | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bloompompom · 20 days

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˗ˏˋ guilty pleasures ˎˊ˗

☆ content: eren jaeger x female reader, modern au, reader cheats on her loser boyfriend, dirty talk, praise, pet names, masturbation, pussy job, just filth, written very fast my apologies, mentions of alcohol, explicit language, explicit sexual content, reader discretion advised 18+ ☆ word count: ~4.2k ☆ a/n: just a warm-up that got out of hand

Your boyfriend sucks. That isn’t an opinion, either. It’s a fact. The sky is blue; what goes up will always come back down; your boyfriend is and will forever be a jackass.

At least, according to your friends, Eren in particular. Sometimes according to you, too—let’s not leave that part out, it’s important.

Countless times, your boyfriend had driven you to wit’s end and back because yes, you always took him back. You aren’t the type to leave a kicked puppy out in the rain or a groveling man lying on your doorstep. He’d come crawling back, looking all lovesick and apologetic, and you’re ashamed to admit it hasn’t failed him yet.

Listen, Eren is just your friend. He doesn’t know the ins and outs of your relationship any more than the next guy. What he knows for sure is that your boyfriend generally sucks as a human being, and he knows you know it, too.

And it’s about time he does something about it.

Tonight’s as good a night as ever to make a move. Eren’s roommate, Armin, insists on hosting a game night every other week-ish to ‘get the gang together,’ as he likes to say. But game nights are hard. No one likes to learn rules. So game nights soon devolved into movie nights, which turned into drinking nights after no one could agree on a movie.

That’s the plan for this evening: drinking the beer Jean brought along with a few leftover seltzers from the last time they got together, and spending some time with you. Alone.

You walked into the apartment huffing and puffing, pissed over whatever your boyfriend did or didn’t do. You’ve spent most of the night wallowing in the displeasure, trying to hide it, but it’s not working; Eren can tell you’re furiously texting Sasha every little detail despite sitting across from one another.

If you were to ask any of your friends, they’d say they previously believed you and Eren would date. You had that energy about you—still do, frankly. But then you met your boyfriend and you’ve been seeing each other ever since. On and off, of course.

Eren dated other people, too. And sure, he liked them, but that’s all. Finding happiness with something (or someone) is difficult when he constantly sees the greener grass on the other side.

He used to believe it was a timing thing, the reason you never hooked up. It made sense back then. But now, Eren knows it’s not a timing thing because he’s single and you can dump your boyfriend any time you want—if that’s what you want.

Eren can pry. He can be forthright and ask what you’re texting Sasha about. But that’d get him nowhere; you’d undoubtedly reply, ‘Girl stuff,’ and let the subject die there.

He noticed you don’t talk about your boyfriend problems when he’s around. Not that he expects you to. He would have written it off by now if he hadn’t heard you confiding in Armin about it. Jean and Connie, too. How frustrating it is that you never tell the one genuinely curious person. The one who wants to know and wants to show you how much better things could be, with him.

So Eren does just that. He catches you at the right moment, once it’s just the two of you. Armin was in bed and Sasha already left, taking Jean and Connie with her. The only guests remaining are you and Mikasa—she’s been sitting heavy-eyed on the couch for the last twenty minutes and would probably be out cold in the next ten.

Then there’s you, all squirmy beside him.

“Are you cold?” Eren asks. He knows you’re not, but he also knows you’d never answer the more direct ‘Are you okay?’

“I’m fine,” you say, voice barely above a whisper, “I’m just—”

“Having a long night?” Eren guesses.

You merely sigh, but it’s weighty enough that it sounds like you’ve been holding it in for a while, like you must’ve needed it.

“That’s one way of putting it.”

It’s vague, but you still feel you said too much.

You fiddle with your fingers, hands resting in your lap. You focus on that rather than the fact that you can no longer bring yourself to meet Eren’s eyes; it’s too much, it makes your insides burn uncomfortably hot.

You can’t deny how Eren makes you feel. Even more, you can’t deny that you came over tonight with him on your mind—the sort of thoughts you shouldn’t have while tangled up with another guy.

“Is there anything I can do,” Eren slides closer to you, “to make your night better?”

Yes, you think. Yes, yes, yes.

You shake your head, gaze fixed on his leg pressing against yours.

“It’s not your problem to fix,” you try to assure, but it lacks any sureness. Instead, it’s demure and… inviting? You almost made it sound like a dare.

“That doesn’t mean I can’t try,” Eren says, always up for a challenge, especially if you’re the prize at the end.

You’re better than this, you tell yourself. You’re above this.

At the same time, you can’t help but think: what would your boyfriend do if the roles were reversed? You’ve argued about his fidelity before—hell, you argued about it hours ago—and you have no more clarity than you did from the start.

Maybe you haven’t been perfect, either. Maybe there were times you should’ve told Eren to cut out the flirting and even times you shouldn’t have reciprocated it. You thought it was harmless then, that you’d never end up exactly where you are now. You also never imagined how invigorating, how right, it would feel.

Eren places his large hand on your thigh, tentatively at first, light despite the guilt weighing down on you. When you don’t stop him, he becomes confident. He slides his hand higher, squeezes you gently. It’s chaste, something that could still pass as friendly if not for the way it made you weak.

I am absolutely not above this.

That’s how you ended up in his bedroom. Eren whispered for Mikasa and when she didn’t respond, he took it as the all-clear—that no one would know if you decided to head somewhere more private. Eren snuck you down the hall, shut the door behind you, and had you to himself, for the first time.

Your heart thrums in your ears. It’s adrenaline, anticipation, a rush you never want to end. You hardly hear him when he asks, “How can I make your night better?” He nears you in a step. “What would you like me to do?”

“I think you know the answer to that,” you murmur. He wants to hear you say it: that you want him. You want his mouth on yours, maybe on your neck, his hands on your chest, smoothing down your hips and between your legs. You don’t give him the satisfaction of it.

You lean into Eren without a word. He moves with you, meeting you halfway. You lead, he follows. You’re the one in the relationship, not him.

You tilt your chin high to meet him. He catches it between his fingers, gently guiding you to him. Your noses brush; your lips don’t, but you’re so, so close. Close enough for your lashes to flutter softly against his cheek, for you to feel every one of his hot breaths as they break over your lips. It’s intoxicating. It’s not enough. But you can’t make yourself seal the fateful gap between you.

“I can’t,” you regretfully stammer. It physically hurts to say the words. You wound the devil sitting atop your shoulder.

Eren doesn’t say anything, only pulls away from you. You don’t feel in control of your hand when it snatches a fistful of his shirt. You keep him there, still as close as before, eyes flitting between his pupils, big and blown, and his lips. He remains frozen, silent. He lets you decide where this would or wouldn’t go.

“I don’t—fuck, I don’t know what do to,” you bemoan. Your head is a spinny, screwed-up mess. Screwed up from forbidden fantasies and raging hormones and the pool of warmth spreading in the depths of your stomach—all from him.

“What do you want to do?” Eren asks in a low voice.

It’s coaxing, cloying, but it’s needful at the same time. It’s a voice you’ve never heard from him, yet it’s familiar. It’s reminiscent of the same need burning inside you, so hot you think it might create a hole, one perhaps only he can fill.

You lick your bottom lip only to find your mouth has gone dry.

Eren nudges the tip of his nose against yours. “I can tell you what I want to do, if that would help.”

He nuzzles lower, beneath your jawline. He doesn’t kiss you there—no, he wouldn’t do that. What he does is worse. It’s teasing. His breath fans over your ear and sends a shudder down your spine. He needs you not only to hear but to feel every word, every dirty thing he has imagined doing with you.

“I want you to touch yourself for me,” he breathes against the side of your face, warming you from the inside out. He clasps his hand over yours, then slips it between your legs. “And I want to watch.”

Eren touches your hand, encouraging you to rub. You feel the heat of your cunt through your clothes, like there’s a fire in your belly. You finally let its flames engulf you and god, burning never felt so damn good.

You’re dizzy, you’re flustered—how could he possibly say that with such calmness? More than anything, you’re dumb to everything except the boy in front of you.

“Can you do that for me?” he asks, smooth and soothing. “I’ll only look. I won’t touch, I promise.”

It’s a lousy excuse for a loophole. Actually, it doesn’t even qualify as a loophole.

Eren leans back, holding your shoulders in his hands. He looks you in the eyes and again, he insists, “No touching.”

Loophole or not, you can’t find it within you to care. You trust him, you think. Either that or your brain short-circuits because you can only repeat back, “No touching,” as you bob your pretty little head.

Eren smiles down at you, runs his knuckles down the side of your face. It’s gentle, it’s praising, it brings—no, it yanks you back to him.

“Lay on the bed,” he says.

You do as you’re told, laying back on your forearms. He tugs your bottoms off with ease and reveals a pair of pale blue panties—a telling color. When you spread your legs for him, he can see how you’ve stained them with your arousal, soaked and ruined after some innocent teasing.

You touch yourself without him having to ask. You trace over the damp patch and play with your clit through the fabric. He sees how easily your panties slip between your folds, how fucking wet you are, and has to stifle a curse.

Eren drops to his knees, nestled between your legs at the foot of the bed. He has a hand on either of your thighs, almost white-knuckling the plush skin.

“Look at that.” You can’t tell if he’s talking to you or your pussy. “You like it when I talk to you, huh? When I tell you what to do?”

You whine at the words, rub your clit faster. You want to come.

“So needy. What’s the rush?” Eren tuts. He climbs onto the bed, propping his back against the headboard. “Make yourself comfortable.”

As he says it, his hand travels lower. Dangerously low. It draws your attention to how hard he is, his insistent cock tenting in his sweatpants. He palms over it once, then twice, then grips himself through the fabric. Fuck.

You stare with too much interest. The corner of Eren’s lip curls into a smirk when you have to close your hungry mouth. He’s just as greedy, though, just as riled up as you. Even the touch of his own hand has his arm muscles tightening and twitching.

You crawl over to his side and try to relax into the pillows as best as you can. Your shoulders droop, your knees fall to either side, but there’s a tremble to your hand as it returns between your legs. Your touch remains feather-light, almost a tickle, as you dance a finger along the hem of your underwear. You watch lecherously, with your head lolled to one side as Eren mirrors you—you’re still leading. His thumb dips below his waistband.

This still counts as ‘no touching,’ right?

Eren shoves his hand down his sweatpants. You can’t see it when he takes his cock in his hand, only the outline of him slowly working over his length underneath the fabric.

Your eyes ask the question your lips wouldn’t dare to ask. Eren responds, “You first.” His eyes flicker to your crotch—your panties, more specifically.

Your fingers stutter and pause. You’ve already dipped your toes into the corrupt waters, so you might as well take the full plunge.

You tuck your underwear to the side, pinching them in the crease of your thigh. Your fingers are almost cold against your wet, hot skin and you shiver in response, letting the feeling wreck down your spine. You clench around nothing, whimpering just as helplessly.

“Fuck,” Eren breathes, an incidental hiss.

He pushes his sweatpants and boxers down in one go, and his cock slaps his front. He aches for anything more than his hand, but it’s all he has right now. It’s agonizing how what he needs is so damn close, but out of reach.

He pumps himself faster, tightening his grip around the sensitive tip to mimic your cunt.

He can only catch glimpses of it. Your panties persistently get in his way, and when they aren’t, you’re having to tug them back to the side. Your gasps and moans turn to little grunts, your frustration staving off your orgasm even further.

Eren goes to grab your underwear but stops himself short.

“Take them off,” he tells you, somewhere between a request and a demand. If this is his one chance to be with you, to see you, then he’s going to see all of you.

You listen. Your hand slips from between your legs and a sticky string connecting your fingers to your cunt snaps. You hope Eren didn’t see it, but you’re sure he did based on the impatient sound that comes from the back of his throat. You lift your hips from the bed and shimmy your underwear down your legs. Then you kick them to the floor.

You don’t settle back into the bed before Eren says, “I want to see more of you,” because this still isn’t enough. “C’mere.”

He adjusts you to his liking until you’re in front of him, lying back on your elbows, spread, with your feet caging his hips. It’s a vulnerable position, you admit. One where you’re completely bare and completely on display and there’s no shying away. You may have even found it embarrassing if not for how turned on you are. The urge to come is nagging, simmering for so long that you fear you may boil over and do something you’ll regret later.

“Shit.” Eren’s in awe of the sight before him: your glistening cunt, swollen and practically begging to come, and the dreamy expression on your face. It’s the sexiest you’ve ever looked, and he’s not even sure it’s intentional. Your eyes are as alert as they are moony, as confident as they are flustered; a doe locked in his headlights, willing to eat out of his palm despite her better judgment.

“Spread yourself for me,” he murmurs. You do it with two fingers. “God, look at you.”

So pretty. What a shame it was that such a pretty pussy would go unfucked tonight.

Eren leans back again, this time with a complacent hand tucked behind his head. He spits into his other, then slathers it over his length, unblushing to how your eyes follow every fluid movement.

“Go ahead,” he says, still calmly fisting his cock. “For real this time. Make yourself come for me.”

The encouragement travels straight to your core. You sink your middle finger inside first, then you add another. Your walls pulse, sucking the digits in further. You curve them, drag them in and out, in and out, until you find a pace that has your thighs threatening to snap shut. You pull out of yourself one last time and, with properly wetted fingers, you return to your neglected clit. It only takes a few slick circles before your breath quickens.

“Yeah, just like that—fuck.” Eren feels his cock throb against his palm. He slows, pulling and tightening his grip, still pretending his hand is anywhere near as soft as your pussy. “You’ve listened so well. You deserve to come, don’t you think?”

You moan something incoherent.

“Tell me,” he says, smug and urgent, somehow at once. “Tell me what a good girl you’ve been. That you deserve to come.”

Slippery, unforgiving sounds fill the room, from the both of you, but you’ve already shed any shred of decency you had left. You dipped your toes first, and then you took a fateful dive. But now, the current has stripped away any semblance of control you had—or thought you had.

You’ve become a passenger inside your own body. Every motion feels wild and unpredictable, yet intimately inevitable. It’s a kaleidoscope of feelings and sensations. It’s strange and exhilarating. It’s this raw and primal surrender to only what’s physical and nothing more.

Flowery language aside, you know one thing for sure: as much as you enjoy hearing him talk filth to you; he enjoys hearing you just as much.

“I’m a—ah, I’m your good girl,” you moan shakily. Your skin becomes unbelievably hot, your fingers stuttering, struggling to keep up with your neediness. “I d-deserve to come.”

His good girl.

Eren’s stomach lurches, abdominals tightening. He nearly comes.

What a fucking gift you are. How lucky Eren feels to witness how you get yourself off when no one’s around, how you like to tease yourself—maybe even pretend he’s the one teasing you.

You bring a hand to your chest, gingerly caressing the tips of your fingers along your nipple that pokes through your shirt. You slide the hand over your breast before groping it fully.

“Can I see your tits?” Eren blurts. Once again, there’s no use for dancing around the truth of the matter anymore: you both wanted to get off.

“You first.” You giggle a little, all breathy, then restate, “Take off your shirt.”

Eren smiles at you before stripping, revealing a cute flush creeping up his chest. You stick to your promise, peeling your shirt off and tossing it aside. You skipped putting on a bra this evening because it was supposed to be a quiet night-in with friends, but it worked out pretty well for this, too.

You graze your fingers over the peaks of your breasts, bouncing just so with every rub, rub, rub of your opposite hand. You bite back a harsh gasp, but little hums escape past your teeth, anyway.

Eren’s thighs twitch. He fights the urge to buck his hips, to fuck up into nothing. His pants turn strained, exasperated. He thinks he might be numb to his hand at this point. He could use his spit again, but why should he have to when you’re right there, as desperate as he is?

Your name’s a raspy plea on his tongue. His hands smooth up your legs as he coos, “I need to feel you, baby.” His thumbs stroke your inner thighs, growing extremely close to the apex between them. “Need you to help me come. You’ll do that for me, won’t you?”

Eren’s hands wrap around your ankles, pulling a yelp from you as he drags you toward him.

“I won’t put it in,” he promises. You’re so close he can feel the heat of your cunt against the underside of his cock. His hand somehow looks small in comparison as he holds himself at his base. He angles his cock until it’s about as close as it can be without touching you. “Please.”

Your heart pounds against your ribcage, but even more frantically, it pulses between your legs, loud and demanding. It’s as impossible to ignore as the man before you. Hot and horny, with messy hair and pretty pink cheeks and an even prettier cock that leaks at the mere thought of touching you, staring at you like he wishes to devour you whole.

You nod, and Eren doesn’t hesitate to push his cock between your slit. You watch him do it, sitting higher on your elbows. Even with the faintest amount of pressure, your jaw goes slack.

He rocks his hips, gliding his cock through you, up and down, with the ridge of his head nudging your clit. Your skin prickles despite the thin layer of sweat you’ve accumulated.

You raise your hips, dragging your pussy over him, and bring yourself back down to the bed. His cock jolts. You feel it. You repeat the undulating motion again and again, effortlessly, because you can’t recall a time you’ve been wetter. So wet he slips out a time or two. He takes advantage of it once, tapping the tip of his cock against your clit.

Eren gives a low chuckle when your head falls back between your shoulder blades. “What a pretty little mess you are.”

You tilt your hips so he’s back in place, hitting your clit just right, over and over. It doesn’t take long for your legs to shake, swaying like they may give out. He steadies you, resting his hand on the divot of your hip.

“Oh, god—Eren.” Your voice pitches on a broken moan. “I think I’m gonna come.”

His hand curves around your side, his fingers digging into the fat of your ass. He uses the grip to keep you moving, to guide you through it. He barrels you down the hill toward your release, and you can’t stifle a single cry as they spill from you.

“Yeah, that’s it. Let it all out, baby,” Eren encourages, saccharine as always but airless. Though his own release is imminent, he refuses to allow it to happen before yours.

He flattens his fingers against his cock, pressing and adding delicious pressure. He proves how heavy, how hard, he is for you—how much better he’d feel inside you. The mere thought of it makes you groan. You push back on him instinctively, arching your back as you teeter on the edge of your undoing.

“So fucking hot,” Eren grunts, thrusting as if he were truly fucking you. He meets you each time you bear down on him, his pelvis slapping against you as his hips rise from the bed. “So fucking hot.”

That familiar feeling fizzes in your stomach, swarmy and radiating through you. It sparks in the tips of your fingers, even in your toes, and then your orgasm rips through you. Your entire being tenses, fists knotting themselves into the sheets and eyes screwing shut. The pleasure is white-hot and leaves you with stars behind your eyelids.

Eren urges you to open your eyes. “Keep ‘em on me while you come.”

You try your best; you don’t let your eyes roll back. What’s hidden behind your fluttering lashes is pornographic. Your soaked thighs—his soaked thighs. You don’t even want to think about the blankets below you.

You curse and cry his name. You look ruined, with eyebrows pinched and pulled together, your mouth hanging open like you want to scream out your orgasm. Eren crudely imagines how wrecked you’d look, how much better you’d feel, if you were coming with him inside you.

Your knees snap together, thighs sealing shut around his cock. He continues to fuck between them, against your pulsing, oversensitive pussy. Your body is spent and shaking, and he is right there with you. The sinewy muscles of his chest flex as he builds toward his climax.

“God, fuck,” Eren pants. “I’m gonna come, baby. Gonna come all over this pussy.”

When he does, it’s with his head thrown back and a beautiful groan. His body is flush with yours, his cock spilling across your legs. Come drips down the creases of your thighs, smearing with the last few pumps as he draws out every drop. He can’t believe he could feel so good from something as pathetic as grinding.

Your body lies limp, sprawling across the bed with your legs still draped over him. You wait for some post-horny clarity to smack you across the face, but the only slap you feel is the truth: you deserve better. You aren’t going back.

You stay there, waiting for the rise and fall of your chest to settle. One moment, you’re staring at the ceiling, then blink, Eren’s above you, taking your cheek in his hand. His fingers curl around the side of your face before he places his mouth on yours. He’s soft, both how he feels and how he kisses you, with lips slotted perfectly against yours, coaxing them open with his tongue.

You finally let him touch you this way; you kiss him back. You wrap your arms around his neck, and you wish for the moment to stay, just for a little longer.

#eren x reader #eren jaeger x reader #eren yeager x reader #eren one shot #eren smut #aot x reader

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atlabeth · 4 months

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greener grass | luke castellan

i recommend reading bleedin me dry before this as this is the au to that!

summary: what if you left with luke that day in the woods?

a/n: would just like to give a HUGE thank you for the massive amount of support on my luke fic!! and another huge thank you to all you angst demons because why do you want more of it. i mean i get it but why. anyways here’s a different path of actually accepting luke’s offer like so many of you said you would instantly fold lmao i hope you enjoy

wc: 3.2k

warning(s): fem!daughter of demeter reader. luke is his own warning. kind of unhealthy relationship, weird vibes all around

The stars were brighter than ever tonight.

It was one of the first things that stuck out to you when you got to camp, and it was one of the first things that you noticed when you first got on the road with Luke.

You’d always loved the stars. They were a rare sight coming from the city, such a sign of nature and purity that it honestly shouldn’t have been a surprise when you were claimed. You still remembered the shock that went through you when you first saw what a night sky free of pollution could be, and you still remembered the first time you risked your life with the harpies just to spend the night star-gazing.

And you could never forget the first time you dragged Luke along with you, his wry protests falling on deaf ears though he grinned the entire way down to the beach, his hand laced in yours.

Gods.

Luke.

Even the thought of him these days was enough to make your heart clench, a slight shiver run down your spine, and you weren’t fully sure as to why.

You loved him. You ran away with him. Every path that led you here, you willingly chose to walk down.

But you still questioned every second of every godsdamned day if they were the right decisions. Especially now, as you sat alone in front of the fire, carefully stoking it with one of the few dry sticks you’d been able to find after taking shelter—in your own haphazard tent made of vines and tree trunks and any other bits of nature you’d managed to sprout from the ground with your powers—to wait out a rainstorm.

You decided to spend the night, deciding that traveling through the darkness was too risky after the last monster attack, but the minutes couldn’t have been creeping by slower. If being in nature didn’t quite literally fuel you, you knew you would be far more miserable than you already were.

You loved Luke with all your heart, and if he was willing to potentially throw off his entire plan just so he could bring you with him, then he had to love you the same. You owed him this, at least, to not abandon him.

You— you didn’t want to serve Kronos, but you didn’t want to serve the gods, either. Your mother abandoned you before you were old enough to know what the word meant, leaving you on your father’s doorstep swaddled in blankets and with a note that he still had to this day.

Demeter left your father to raise you on his own, left you to live the half-life of a half-blood, and hardly paid attention to you since. She didn’t help you when you were on the road to camp with your satyr, wondering if every bump in the night would be your end, and she let you feel worthless for an entire year before she finally decided you were deserving of her claim.

Or maybe she just finally remembered you existed.

You understood Luke’s anger—you felt it yourself more than you liked to admit—but the path he was on was a dangerous one. You doubted you could take him off of it, but you could keep him safe, and you could prevent more damage. That was all you cared about at this point.

How long you could walk this line was an entirely different question.

You sensed him before you heard him even lost in your thoughts, but the snapping of twigs still made your breath catch for a moment. You kept your gaze on the fire as you spoke.

“Anything?”

“These woods are surprisingly bare for the time of year,” Luke said as he set his backpack on the ground, kneeling down to rifle through it. “I feel like Artemis is punishing me.”

“Well, she doesn’t exactly have a reason to help you,” you said wryly. You gestured with your head towards the miniature orchard you’d been making at each one of your camps—one pro of your parentage was that you—hopefully—wouldn’t ever starve on the road. You’d been growing plants since you realized you could, so it was practically second nature at this point. “Fruit’s on the menu, if you’re interested.”

Luke chuckled as he walked over, and as he plucked a perfectly ripe strawberry, he glanced at you. “Feeling nostalgic?”

You shrugged. You wondered which of your siblings would be in charge of the strawberries with you gone. You hoped Mr. D wouldn’t give it to one of his kids. “Do you blame me?”

“Not at all.” He popped it into his mouth then took an apple from the smallest tree you’d been able to grow. “It was home for us both, for a while.”

You bit your lip. It still was your home—it had been for the past four years. You wanted to go back eventually, but you felt like you had sealed your coffin by going with Luke. Would they ever welcome you back, knowing you willingly followed him into the darkness?

“How long do you think we’ll be on the road?” you asked, finally looking over at him as he sat down across from you. “Not that I don’t enjoy being with you, but… it’s not exactly the safest.”

“At least another week or two,” Luke said. You tried your hardest to keep your expression even as he settled the full force of his gaze on you—you couldn’t deal with the scrutiny. “I need to make sure they’ve lost our trail. The last thing we need is a questing group on our asses.”

You huffed a laugh. “You think they’ll actually send anyone after us?”

Luke shrugged. “If all went well, camp is in total disarray. If it didn’t, they still know I’m with Kronos. I can’t imagine Chiron would take that lightly. And,” he inclined his head, “I did kidnap you.”

You scoffed. “You didn’t kidnap me.”

“They’ll probably think so,” he said, and there was something strange in his eyes. “Doesn’t make sense for you to come with me willingly.”

This again. “Luke—”

“I know,” he said, a slight smile on his lips. There wasn’t much heart in it. “You don’t have to explain yourself again.”

“I just don’t want you to think I’m not with you,” you said. “I— I am. I’m only here for you, Luke.”

His eyes softened. “You mean it?”

“I do,” you nodded. “I couldn’t just leave you.”

“I don’t take any of this lightly, you know.” His eyes never wavered from yours, the orange light flickering across his face and casting a devilish shadow. “You being here means the world. Nothing’s gonna happen to you—I’ll make sure of it.”

“I’m not just gonna lay you out to dry, either,” you said wryly. “We’ll protect each other. Like we always have.”

“Exactly,” Luke affirmed. He bit into the apple he’d seemingly forgot about, and you looked up at the sky in the resulting silence.

It felt like your mind always drifted back to camp, back to your siblings and friends and the victims of Luke’s crusade.

Your summer siblings who would come back next year and wonder where you went, your year-rounders waking up the next morning and all the mornings after with a discontented glance at your bed.

How long would it take for them to forget you? For you to just be another lost demigod in the camp files?

And poor Annabeth Chase. Luke practically raised her, and he walked out on her without a word—you considered yourself lucky he didn’t do the same to you, and you had no idea what awaited you on your path together.

The gods had never been one for listening, and certainly not to you, but you hoped at least one of them would look down on you. Maybe your mother could provide some of that wizened second child advice, shine her favor on you for the first time in your life.

Well. You doubted Demeter would very much appreciate your quasi-support of the titan that ate her. The thing you should have considered yourself lucky for was that your powers still worked.

Luke brought you back to Earth by saying your name, and your gaze snapped back down to meet his. His scar seemed especially grisly in the firelight, at odds with the softness of his expression—something that felt all too rare these days.

“What’s on your mind?” he asked.

“What else could possibly be on it?” you asked wryly, tossing the stick you’d been fiddling with into the fire. It crackled as the flames devoured it, something so out of its realm thrust into it anyways.

“Stupid question,” he admitted.

“We’re practically fugitives, Luke,” you said. “We have monsters after us, and possibly people from camp. We left everyone behind. I’m with you, trust me, but— but I can’t just get over it all as easily as you.”

“And I get that,” he said. “This—” he sighed and shook his head— “you really don’t know how much you being here means to me. I thought I was going to be out on my own on all this.”

Your throat bobbed. You’d never tell him, but you didn’t even know what your answer was going to be until the words left your mouth.

“And you’re telling me that you’d still choose them over me?”

“No,” you said. “I wouldn’t.”

Luke’s eyes softened and your throat felt like it was closing up.

“Then come with me,” he whispered. “We will change the world together.”

“I can’t,” you asserted. “I can’t just leave everyone behind— I’d be leaving my entire life behind, Luke!”

“You’ll help them more this way,” Luke insisted. “The gods aren’t on our side—we’re here so they don’t have to pay attention to us. If we want anything to change for the better, we’re gonna have to do it ourselves.”

You bit your lip, and he brushed a strand of hair out of your face.

“I wouldn’t ask you this if I didn’t think you were right for it,” he murmured, tilting his head as he gazed into your eyes. “Your mother’s never bothered to see you before. I’m gonna make her see you.”

“How?” you asked, hating the hints of desperation coloring your voice.

“You’ll see,” he said. “But we’re gonna do something so big that no one’s going to be able to ignore us.”

Memories of the past four years flashed through your mind, but the two at the forefront were ones with Luke and ones without your mother.

He’d always been there for you, even when Demeter—especially when she wasn’t.

You couldn’t just leave him on his own. Not when he was baring his soul to you—not when his quest for greatness included it for you too.

Not when he was the first boy you ever loved, the one who brought you back from the god-induced edge.

“…Okay,” you said, the word feeling like an ultimatum the moment it left your lips. “Okay. I’ll go with you.”

He stared at you for a second like he didn’t hear you, or rather like he didn’t actually believe it. And then he broke out into a grin.

“Really?”

“Yes, really,” you said. “Have I ever lied to you?”

“Go to your cabin and pack your bags,” Luke said, still unable to control his exuberant expression. We’ll meet each other at the top of the hill.”

“Right now?”

Luke nodded. “Only a couple hours until we’re harpy feed. Everyone’ll think we’re just leaving for the school year.”

“You’ve always been a year-rounder,” you said. “Won’t people—”

“It doesn’t matter,” he said. “No one’ll think anything of it. We just have to get out before anyone asks any questions.”

“Luke,” you murmured, “are you—”

Luke cut you off with a blazing kiss, the same kind of fire in his eyes when he pulled away, a slight smile on his lips at leaving you breathless.

“I’m sure,” he whispered. “You’re not going to regret this. I promise.”

It was all you could do to stare up at him, his grip on your arms the only thing keeping you upright for a solid moment.

“Go,” he said. “Take your time—don’t draw any suspicion. I’ll meet you there.”

“You’re really sure?” you asked, finally able to form words. “Really really sure? About this, a— and me?”

He cupped your cheek, tracing his thumb along your jaw. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life than I am about you.”

Leaving camp was insane—when Luke told you of Kronos’s plans, it was even more insane—but it had always been you and Luke. He’d been such a huge part of your life, ever since you first came to camp, that you couldn’t imagine yourself without him.

And when you looked back at him, illuminated by the fire, you were sure of at least one thing.

You weren’t leaving any time soon. Not when you could still fix all of this.

A yawn got the better of you, and you felt Luke’s eyes on you as you covered your mouth with a fist.

“You should get to sleep,” he said. “It’s been a long day.”

“It’s been a long day for both of us,” you said. “We both had to get here—and you were the one who wandered around in the woods for two hours trying to hunt.”

“How do you know I wandered?” Luke asked, setting the apple core down on the ground next to him. “You weren’t there. Maybe I had a very respectable saunter and just came up with nothing.”

You chuckled. “The trees speak to me.”

“Really?” he asked, clearly amused. “And what did they say?”

“That you’re an awful hunter,” you mused, “and you should be very thankful that your girlfriend is good at everything.”

Luke smirked and got up to start walking towards you. “Your ever-knowledgeable trees should know that I already know.” He kneeled down in front of you, a slight smile curling on your lips. “And that I am very thankful.”

He pressed a heated kiss to your lips, and you reciprocated, looping an arm around him to keep him close before you pulled away.

“It’s always good to hear it,” you murmured.

“I’ll say it as many times as you need,” he assured. Luke stole another kiss then gestured towards your makeshift tent. “But you do need to get some sleep. We’re picking up at first light.”

Your smile wavered. “We’ve been moving break-neck for a week already. Are you sure we can’t ease up?”

“Soon,” Luke promised. “I told you, I just want to make sure we’ve lost any tails. We can’t afford that right now.”

He must have seen the change in your expression, because his eyes softened and he took your hand. “It won’t be like this forever, babe. You can handle it.”

“It doesn’t mean I want to,” you said dryly, but you sighed as you squeezed his hand. “I’ll turn in if you do too.”

“Anything for you,” Luke said with a smile. You chuckled and shook your head as you stood up, and Luke grabbed his backpack before he went over to the tent with you.

Your meager belongings weren’t much. You’d stuffed all the demigod essentials, some outfits, and a sleeping bag in your pack before hightailing it to Thalia’s tree, and Luke hadn’t packed much more—but at least it was light traveling.

Every night had been spent in the same way, sharing your sleeping bag as you got what precious sleep Luke allocated before you were back on the road again. You were sure the only thing that got you through each early rising was his soft touches and easy murmured words.

You laid down, staring up at the roof of brambles and bark, and you twisted your hand just so to make them twist away from each other for a small opening.

Luke raised an eyebrow at you as he zipped his bag up, still crouched on the ground. “What’s that for?”

You shrugged. “I’ve always liked sleeping under the stars.”

Again, that small smile. It could still make you melt, even now. “I remember. I just hope it doesn’t start raining again.”

“Like rain’ll be the worst thing we’ve dealt with,” you said wryly. “Besides, I can feel it in the air. We’re gonna be fine.”

“Yeah,” he said. “We are.”

You glanced over and he was looking at you. You patted the spot next to you.

“C’mon,” you said. “I’m cold.”

“Oh, we can’t have that,” he said, amused, and he huddled in next to you. You let out a contented sigh as his body heat sunk into you, and he draped an arm across you to pull you closer.

“That better?” he asked.

You hummed in response. “Thank you.”

“Always.”

You closed your eyes as you exhaled deeply, trying your best to unwind the tension in every part of your body. You weren’t used to trekking miles every day, eating rations you’d packed from camp or gas station food from whenever you ended up close to town, only having the woods and the sky and Luke for company. It was starting to wear on you, but you weren’t going to let Luke know.

“I love you,” Luke said suddenly, breaking the silence, his breath tickling your neck. Your eyes snapped open. “You know that, right?”

A moment passed before you murmured, “I know.”

You could feel some of the tension leave his body, and he adjusted his position to be closer to you.

“Good.”

His curls brushed against your skin as he rested his head in the crook of your neck. Luke was a comforting presence behind you, like an anchor in the choppy waters you’d thrown yourself into, but it… it just felt different than the countless other times.

But that was only natural. You were back on the road, living the way you did when you first made the trip to Camp Half-blood with your satyr. Of course it felt different than the crowded chaos of the Hermes cabin, or the beach underneath a tapestry of stars, or your own bed at the behest of your siblings. The only thing that stayed the same was the scent of nature, and the scent of Luke.

Things were different, yes, but you knew that would happen. Luke was different, but you knew that would happen—half the reason you came along with him was because you wanted to make sure he had a lifeline, a way to come back to shore when he decided his crusade was over.

Because it had to be over eventually. He would decide that there was no way you could beat the gods, that it wasn’t worth killing himself over some meaningless mission. The gods had never cared about you before—you didn’t know why they would care about some half-baked rebellion by two of their least favorite kids.

You loved Luke. He loved you. You told yourself that was all that mattered, because you were in this together now.

For better or for worse.

#damn girl you really are a demeter kid the way you're planting these seeds of distrust #also he hasn't told her what he did to percy so this is clearly a very stable and good situation for both of them #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan fic #luke castellan angst #pjo x reader #x reader #sadie writes

724 notes · View notes

moonhoures · 7 months

Text

That’s My Girl

🕷️ kinktober — day 18: mommy kink 🕸️

pairing: jihyo (twice) +reader (afab/fem.)

genre: non-idol!au, smut, fluff

warnings: 18+, minors do not interact, explicit smut, established relationship, wlw relationship, mommy kink, scissoring

word count: ~970

synopsis: your wife helps you relax after you had a bad day at work

posted: october 18, 2023

kinktober masterlist

Shitty days at work were unfortunately common for you. The insurance company you worked for was understaffed, and the few staff members you had weren’t exactly the brightest. As the department head, you had a lot of decisions to make, lots of responsibility. You often went home with weighted shoulders and headaches that even the strongest dose of medicine couldn’t seem to get rid of. Sometimes you wouldn’t get home until it was dark out, pulling overtime.

It was a Thursday night, and you had (once again) come home hours late. Your wonderful wife had already ate the dinner she prepared and saved your share in the refrigerator after you had sent her a text saying you wouldn’t be home in time to enjoy it. You trudged through the house, feeling absolutely drained. Your bedroom door opened to reveal the soft, golden glow of your wife’s bedside lamp. She sat on her side of the bed, already bathed and dressed down in her pajamas. When she heard the door, her head tilted up and she greeted you with a smile that made the weight on your back feel a little lighter.

“Hi, love. How was work?” Jihyo asked you, sitting up straighter.

“Terrible as always, but I’m home now,” you shrugged with a smile, already peeling off your coat. You let it drop to the floor carelessly while your wife’s smile faltered. She turned the TV volume down, wanting to focus on her conversation with you. She listened to you go on and on about work and how annoying it was. How much stress you were under every day, and how you were tired of it all. Her eyes followed you as you went to the bathroom, and she watched you pull your hair down from the clip you held it in all day. You cleaned off your face and rubbed in your favorite moisturizer. You stripped down to your undergarments and walked around the room, still venting about work as you picked out what pajama set you would wear after your bath.

And as you paused to gather your thoughts, you stopped at the side of your bed to put your phone on its charger. Jihyo smiled gently at you, admiring how cute you looked when you were mad. The crease forming between your brows and the subtle pout to your lips was adorable.

“I’m sorry, honey. Remember, the holidays are coming up. And after you get your bonus, you can look for a new job!” Your wife was always one to see the positives in everything. The one to remind you that the grass is greener on the other side of any tough situation you faced. You were beyond grateful for her.

“I know, love. It’s just- I have to get through the now before the holidays,” you laughed softly, shaking your head as you sighed heavily. When you met your wife’s eyes again, there was a new expression in them.

“Maybe we can take your mind off of work for a little while?”

The question was innocent, but the events that took place after were not so innocent. Jihyo had mastered the art of being a wonderful wife, and one of the things she was best at was caring for you—in every sense of the word. She knew how to make you feel better in any way she could. And right now, she decided love making was the best way to clear your mind.

So she laid you down on the bed, parting your legs for herself to slot between them. And once her pelvis was seated over yours, she began rocking her hips. Your folds grew slick under her own, the skin rubbing against each other.

“How does that feel, baby? Is it just what you needed?” she asked you, using her free hand to push her hair out of her face as she looked down at you. Your eyes were shut so you could focus on the pleasurable high you were chasing, but you nodded.

“Uh huh,” you choked out, hands gripping desperately at her thigh. She smiled at your eagerness, hurrying her pace as she started to feel her own release building up. She loved scissoring with you, and she especially loved being on top. Though there were no specific roles in your relationship, she did secretly enjoy being the “leader”. She liked having someone to rely on her. She liked being the one to make decisions. She liked taking the weight off your shoulders and helping you whenever and however she could. It made her feel powerful and needed.

“Are you gonna let go and cum for mommy?” she asked you, grinding her weeping cunt against yours. She groaned as your clits touched over and over, sending electricity throughout your bodies.

“Yes. Yes. Yes, oh-,” your words were cut off as you were overwhelmed with pleasure. Jihyo’s pussy slid against yours, sending you reeling as she stared down at you with the most wicked glint in her eye. Like she knew she was doing everything right, and she loved watching you snap.

Your hands reached up, pawing at her voluptuous breasts until she mercifully leaned down to kiss your neck. This gave you easier access to knead and play with her boobs, your palms squishing her sensitive nipples. The little moans and whines she let out by your ear only made you wetter, and she could feel it. She was doing it on purpose.

“That’s my girl,” she cooed, kissing your jaw, “Cumming for mommy when you’re told. So proud of you.”

You smiled into the kiss she graced your lips with, melting underneath her. Every ounce of worry and any stressful thought in your mind was gone. She knew her job was done, and successfully so.

— taglist #1

@jaylaxies @xiaoting999 @kookthief @zaddywilk @wonrangwoo @pedriswrld @ikykleeknowww @odisdad @abby-grace @jungwonloveer @pinklemonadeflav @celestialplatinum @luvkpopp @nlklstan @kisses4denji @jenos-eye-smiles @a-l-i-y-a @channiesprincess @bekah931215 @heerinnie @fairygirl18 @cinnikoi @im-ur-calico-cat @unlikelysublimekryptonite @k-drizzle @iguanas-world

#twice smut #jihyo smut #park jihyo smut #twice fanfic #twice imagines #twice scenarios #twice x reader #[🕷️] kinktober 23 #jihyo fanfic #jihyo imagines #jihyo scenarios #jihyo x reader #twice hard hours #girl group smut #kpop smut

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captain-barnes-writes · 9 months

Text

What is soft launch? (Carlos Sainz)

Part three

Summary: Max Verstappen’s ex girlfriend moves on with none other than Ferrari’s Carlos Sainz and they’ve managed to keep their relationship under wraps until now. Part one | part two |

Face claim: Cindy Kimberly

Type: insta au

Pair: Carlos Sainz x reader x ex!Max Verstappen

Warning: this is all over the place, fluffy Carlos, Lando Norris all up in the comments lol, salty max

————————

YourUsername posted a story

Replies

Username shots fired!

Username the pettiness is real🫢

Yourbff and he always remembers not to cheat!

YourUsername: girl stop 😭😭 you know what I’m gonna delete this

Yourbff 🔪

DanielRicciardo Carlos might as well have bought the whole flower shop lmao

YourUsername don’t give him any ideas 🫣

LandoNorris this will cause more drama with Max😑

YourUsername he started it, he should’ve never posted that story in the first place!

LandoNorris I know, I scolded him for it trust me

CarlosSainz55 anything for you princesa

YourUsername 🥰♥️

MaxVerstappen1 I’m sorry

YourUsername just let me move on in peace

MaxVerstappen1 I just don’t know why it had to be Carlos

YourUsername we fell in love, simple as that.

YourUsername deleted their story

———

20,890 likes

F1Wags Carlos Sainz and Y/N arriving at the paddock for the Barcelona Grand Prix. This is the first time the couple are seen in public after recently confirming their relationship (after secretly dating for one year). I wonder how this will go down after Max’s insta story a few days about Y/N caused some drama.

Comments

Username honestly I ship it

Username same 😶

Username I can’t believe she’s back 🥹

Username max and y/n are still my one true pair

Username he definitely cheated, that’s not an OTP😑

Username those were just rumors

Username I smell even more drama just wait on it

Username I still can’t believe Max posted that story about her as though he doesn’t have his own family now🤡

Username True. I actually feel bad for Kelly after that

Username maybe he realized the grass wasn’t greener on the other side 🤐

Username 2 years too late for that

———

18,675 likes

F1world Carlos Sainz and Max Verstappen were spotted having, what seems, a serious conversation ahead of the Barcelona Grand Prix. This comes after Carlos and Max’s ex-girlfriend, Y/N, confirmed they’ve been in a relationship for the last year. Max had an outburst and posted a story of Y/N holding flowers reminiscing on their relationship which he deleted after a few minutes. The drivers seemed annoyed and Carlos at some point walked away from the Red Bull driver.

Comments

Username i knew there’d be drama 😭

Username I hope they can get past it seeing they have to see each other all the time

Username same here

Username shouldn’t be dating his mate’s ex then

Username oh to be Y/N and have two drivers fight over her 😮‍💨

Username She has the grid rizz 😏

Username she’s immaculate

Username tbh she had most drivers on a chokehold ever since she was with Max👀

Username they’re all in her likes and comments a lot of the time 🫢

Username this is Max’s karma

Username ^^ yes

———

Liked by YourUsername, CharlesLeclerc and others

CarlosSainz55 Podium today, so many good things to celebrate 🙌

Comments

YourUsername proud of you baby!😮‍💨

CarlosSainz55 we’re celebrating tonight princesa 😘

LandoNorris keep it pg Carlos 😑 there’s kids here

CarlosSainz55 yeah, you!

LandoNorris 🤬

ScuderiaFerrari that’s our boy!

Username the way he included Y/N in his post too🥹

Username he’s simping hard

Username I wonder what max and him talked about

Username it didn’t look good🫢

Username definitely about y/n

Username she looks better with you than she ever did with max 🤤

Comment liked by CarlosSainz55

Username not carlos liking my comment lmao

———

Liked by CarlosSainz55, MaxVerstappen1, LewisHamilton and others

YourUsername Red for Ferrari ❤️‍🔥

Comments

ScuderiaFerrari Red looks good on you!

CarlosSainz55 I agree ❤️‍🔥

CarlosSainz55 more like red for me

YourUsername 😏

GigiHadid beautiful!

LewisHamilton so great seeing you again!

Charlottesiine ❤️❤️

Username she’s in love love

Username ok but what is Max doing here?

Username he doesn’t even follow her but is all in her likes all of a sudden?

Username apparently it’s a problem if she moves on but he moved on within a second lmao 🧐

Username someone take Max’s phone away!

Username he’s probably crying in the shower rn

Username red suits you so much better than blue ever did queen

YourUsername 😝🫣

———

15,870 likes

F1Wags There’s reports that Kelly and Max are taking some time apart after some drama-filled days following Max posting about his ex-girlfriend,Y/N, after she confirmed her relationship with Ferrari driver, Carlos Sainz. Kelly was also pictured taking a solo flight to seemingly clear her mind and figure out the sudden halt of her 2-year relationship.

Comments

Username I called it!

Username it’d be hard to stay with someone who’s still clearly in love with their ex

Username you lose em how you get ‘em 🫢

Username poor Y/N can’t even move on in peace

Username she doesn’t seem to care tbh she’s down bad for Carlos lol

Username as she should 😏

Username lowkey feel bad for her

Username He should’ve fought for Y/N years ago, not now when he has his own little family

Username agreed! 😵‍💫

Username 20 sec penalty for ocon

Username 🤔

———

Liked by LandoNorris, CarlosSainz55, PierreGasly and others

YourUsername we’re good over here 😌 (that last one is for you guys, you’re welcome)

Comments

LandoNorris that last one was unnecessary 😒

YourUsername I disagree😋💋

LandoNorris 🤢

CharlesLeclerc I agree with Lando

YourBff is it simping hours??

YourUsername always 😶

ScuderiaFerrari giving the people what they want 👏

CarlosSainz55 😘

Username everybody just kind of overlooking the sassy caption 🤣

Username oh we noticed lol

Username my new favorite couple ❤️

Username queen keep giving us Carlos content

YourUsername 🫡🫡

———

Liked by YourUsername, LewisHamilton, CharlesLeclerc and others

CarlosSainz55 what she said 🤤

Comments on this post have been limited

YourUsername I love us🤤❤️‍🔥

CarlosSainz55 ❤️‍🔥

LewisHamilton beautiful couple!

YourUsername🫶🫶

LandoNorris third picture was unnecessary too

YourUsername 😐

DanielRicciardo the last pic on her post left me blind

CarlosSainz55 then how’d you type this?

DanielRicciardo 🫣

MaxVerstappen1 blocked CarlosSainz55 and YourUsername

———

Posting so late!

This is all over the place lmao but as always I enjoy making these social media au 🤭

#carlos sainz jr x you #carlos sainz x you #carlos sainz jr x reader #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz instagram edit #carlos sainz #Carlos sainz jr #carlos sainz x y/n #carlos sainz social media au #carlos sainz rec #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen fic

810 notes · View notes

feliks-grayscayl · 9 months

Text

some ninjago fic recommendations i have

I've been writing down ninjago fics on ao3 in my notes app and i might as well post them here. there is about 75 of them as of now idk

i will be adding as i read

NO LLORUMI OR LLOYD X NINJA

some of these you'll need an ao3 acc to access

‌"Meet Again" by northpen - Zane and Cole can't die. They can be killed but not die of natural causes. 3000 years into the future they meet their friends again [this fic left me in shambles for a few days in the best way possible] (https://archiveofourown.org/works/12308709/chapters/27981705…)

‌"The Grass is Always Greener" by Sunnylighter - pre-tea Lloyd switches places with post-movie Lloyd, now show!ninja and movie!Lloyd have to find a way to the movieverse; a lot of references to different media along the way (https://archiveofourown.org/works/18779539/chapters/44553559…)

‌"If you could date any of the ninja, which one would you date?" by Pyr0_Kat - movieverse pre-movie, the exact question gets asked during a class (https://archiveofourown.org/works/13661316#main…)

‌"Green Empathy" by Nation_Ustria - movieverse 3 oneshots series pre-movie and pre identities reveal, Lloyd Garmadon is both the Green Ninja and the most hated person in Ninjago City and also an empath (https://archiveofourown.org/series/2178393)

"Visionary" by K1ngtok1 - the ninja are forced to see, spectate the events that blocked their Full Potentials. They talk it out (https://archiveofourown.org/works/38732838/chapters/96844887…)

"Those Linked By Destiny" by Leonardo_Charles_BlueWood_21 - movieverse, how the ninja met even before they were ninja (https://archiveofourown.org/works/26303986/chapters/64045669…)

"Unfamiliar With What's Not Mine" by AlexaAffect - after Tomorrow's Tea Lloyd feels like his body isn't his anymore. Kai helps him see it is; brotherly feels (https://archiveofourown.org/works/37520761)

"An Impromptu Little Brother" by Leonardo_Charles_BlueWood_21 - set in s1, Kai decides to become lil Lloyd's big brother (https://archiveofourown.org/works/26238865)

"A Strange Bet" by ilovelegendsalot - the ninja make the bet that whoever finds out the samurai x's identity is the Green Ninja. While staying at the Bounty with Nya, Lloyd starts to notice a few things (https://archiveofourown.org/works/15715200)

‌"The Sun Rises Every Single Night" by Fabro-de-omres (Fabro) - time travel, post s6 Lloyd lands in s2 time (https://archiveofourown.org/works/28530306/chapters/69911859…)

"Ruler From Another Realm" by CyberSearcher -Nice Ice Emperor AU, when Zane lands in the Never Realm he doesn't immediately find and try to repair the mech, instead he finds a village (https://archiveofourown.org/works/23239126/chapters/55643689…)

‌"Land Of The Living" and "Shores of Restless Souls" by CaptainBrookeworm - Morro is brought back to life by a scientist using Lloyd's energy; eventual cousins vibes; Morro redemption with Lloyd and the team (https://archiveofourown.org/series/2524495)

‌"Prodigal Prince" by TeuthidaRegina - movie verse au, Lloyd lives with his father. Has hybrid features but can shift into a human form. As Lloyd he's a feared warlord in the making, son of Garmadon. As Green he's Ninjago's greatest hero and protector. (https://archiveofourown.org/works/41470281/chapters/103999554…)

‌"Reference Letters" by Fabro-de-omres (Fabro) - movieverse pre-movie - Kai is tasked by Green to find someone who could join the Ninja Force. He thinks Lloyd is a perfect candidate (https://archiveofourown.org/works/41823636)

"You Give Me The Strength I Need (To Cry)" by fruitcasket & "And there you were" by Cherry_dynamite - we touch on Lloyd's trauma and him seeing Kai as a father figure (https://archiveofourown.org/works/35553694/chapters/88633630…) (https://archiveofourown.org/works/39483225/chapters/98822580…)

"Secret Flame" by ObsessedBee - college au, no powers, everyone is human, lavashipping getting together; **warning for sexual themes** (https://archiveofourown.org/works/31559843/chapters/78080618…)

"Fear and Loathing" by ObsessedBee - series of one shots to "Secret Flame", the main 7's problems, bad habits and traumas and them sorta dealing with them; **mind the warnings** (https://archiveofourown.org/works/38156269/chapters/95323741…)

"Just a Little Bit Before" by Evil_Potato Ninja - Morro is back as a ghost before s1 and finds lil Lloyd living on the streets; green cousins (https://archiveofourown.org/works/44882287/chapters/112927045…)

"forget-me-not" by lloydenthusiast - greenflowershipping one shot, after 10 years they meet again (https://archiveofourown.org/works/45058972)

‌"marigold" by lloydenthusiast - greenflowershipping, probably post crystalized, Lloyd struggles with a lot, he and Brad meet by accident. They both struggle with a lot; **mind the warnings** (https://archiveofourown.org/works/45814168/chapters/115296334…)

‌"Too Weird To Live, Too Rare To Die" by BumblebeeEnby - Morro centric, eventual citrusshipping, he's brought back but literally into his own skeleton; Morro redemption (https://archiveofourown.org/works/29320173/chapters/72007536…)

"Taking Shape, Letting Go" by BumblebeeEnby - set after "Too Weird To Live, Too Rare To Die", having discovered his dragoni origin Lloyd's body starts suddenly changing (https://archiveofourown.org/works/46434775)

"Way of the 21st century ninja", sequel "Born to be a 21st century ninja" and other works in series "The Surprising Life of Jesse Marvel" and "Legacy Sidestories" by weekend-whip (nightbreakers) - all are mix of show and movie verses, canon rewrite with attention to a lot of minor things and very interesting concepts expanded upon, Jesse is an oc however he fits into the story amazingly (https://archiveofourown.org/works/28742124/chapters/70476210…) (https://archiveofourown.org/works/34013053/chapters/84598372…) (https://archiveofourown.org/series/2946552) (https://archiveofourown.org/series/3113685)

"Undo the Golden" by GigglingAsIfIdidntWriteThis - crystalized ended BADLY and Lloyd managed to go back in time to the beginning of s1 to try and save everyone including himself (https://archiveofourown.org/works/45778291/chapters/115202566…)

"The Color of Glory" by banannamuffin - AU, Lloyd is an orphan in the foster system where he meets Harumi who he now sees as a sister. Then he finds out he's supposed to be the Green Ninja and that a group called Sons of Garmadon is on the rise (https://archiveofourown.org/works/44138211/chapters/110989083…)

"On the Outside" by SunflowerAro - set in early s1, lil Lloyd doesn't trust the ninja he has to live with. Slowly that trust is built and traumas acknowledged (https://archiveofourown.org/works/44929669/chapters/113050273…)

‌"All of Their Interests" by ilovelegendsalot - ninja bonding with lil Lloyd over things they enjoy (https://archiveofourown.org/works/18958873/chapters/45014614#workskin…)

"All the work, None of the money" by SirShroomie - short, kai-centric, we delve a bit more into his life and struggles before he became a ninja (https://archiveofourown.org/works/42818652/chapters/107565903…)

"Five Times Everyone Thought The Green Ninja Was Dating Lloyd Garmadon" by Anonymous - movie fic, secret identities au, exactly what the title says (https://archiveofourown.org/works/44554888)

"Lloyd Gets a Ransom Note" by BumblebeeEnby - post crystalized, Lloyd gets "invited" to a dinner with his dad and Vinny; survivalshipping (https://archiveofourown.org/works/45267544)

‌"we've all got scars" by brainrotprofessional - short Lloyd and Kai brothers trans interaction (https://archiveofourown.org/works/45679432)

"Shogun: Becoming" by NickelWick - instead of Zane being sent to the Never-Realm, Kai is sent into the movieverse (https://archiveofourown.org/works/44418760/chapters/111722089…)

"Enchanted Opportunities" by Arco_Harrison03 - if marrying a Djinn gives him unlimited wishes, what happens to you when you kill one? (https://archiveofourown.org/works/42570066/chapters/106927911…)

‌"Thank You, For Giving Me Wings" by weekend-whip (nightbreakers) - Wu POV of how he's come to see the ninja as his kids and they him as their father figure (https://archiveofourown.org/works/39650496/chapters/99260295…)

‌"Say You Won't Let Go" by orphan_account - as Jaya wedding gets close everyone tries to get Kai and Cole together bc apparently they don't know they love each other and everyone else does; lavashipping (https://archiveofourown.org/works/18606391/chapters/44112619…)

"We Saved Each Other" by orphan_account - continuation of "Say You Won't Let Go" but about a year later. now it's Cole's time to ask the question; lavashipping (https://archiveofourown.org/works/19191547)

‌"Everybody Talks Too Much" by letters_from_elwind - lavashipping one-shot taking place in s8 together with the scene where Cole sings but it's "Everybody Talks" instead (https://archiveofourown.org/works/38946051#main…)

"Everhearth" by Butterpony100 - takes place after Nya is brought back but the Crystal King doesn't happen; seabound Kai au with lavashipping (https://archiveofourown.org/works/42634206/chapters/107094609…)

"The Rights Of A Nindroid" by Anonymous - what if after Dr Julien's death, the government considered Zane its legal property, he's a robot afterall; **mind the warnings** + with a sequel (https://archiveofourown.org/works/28669479/chapters/70281465…)

"just the two of us (we can make it if we try)" by writing_hat - lavashipping fic, pre and post s7, two pining idiots; **mild sexual content** (https://archiveofourown.org/works/47800510?view_adult=true#main…)

‌"The little things" by newtlovesyouso - lil Lloyd starting to trust the ninja as he lives with them. Should be early s1 but the small events indicating the timeline are all over the place, still very much readable; background lavashipping pining (https://archiveofourown.org/works/44529601/chapters/116416195#main…)

"Would You Like To Enter Stardust?" by AureAllegories - what if Jay became part of Prime Empire upon entering it? minor bruiseshipping (https://archiveofourown.org/works/37798150/chapters/94374718…)

‌"Play to Win" by sadisthetic - s6 oneshot, what if after Cole, Lloyd and Nya are caught, instead of having them walk the plank, Nadakhan decides on another round of Scrap-N-Tap (https://archiveofourown.org/works/46263796#main…)

‌"Son of Garmadon" by orphan_account - movieverse au, Lloyd was raised by his father who has now captured the ninja and left Lloyd in charge of them (https://archiveofourown.org/works/18226388#main…)

"Cool Down" by Leonardo_Charles_BlueWood_21 - Kai's emotions are tied to his powers, Zane helps him cool down with hugs (https://archiveofourown.org/works/25916767#main…)

"Echoes of a Broken World" by Stargaze_Sunflower - a few weeks after s6 the ninja find out about the erased timeline (https://archiveofourown.org/works/29410818/chapters/72252897…)

"Little Brother" by SummerStormFlower - s1 Lloyd learns that he's loved and wanted (https://archiveofourown.org/works/22261093#main…)

"Home Is Where You Are" by lloydshoulddyehishair - movieverse pre-movie oneshot, Morro helps his cousin after he got stabbed (https://archiveofourown.org/works/29490180#main…)

‌"The Master of Fire and the Cold Don’t Mix Well" by Nation_Ustria - a series of oneshots of what the title says (https://archiveofourown.org/series/2154861)

"late night bathroom sibling therapy" by YouAreDeadRetry - s1 trans Lloyd, Kai catches him cutting his hair and decides to help out gaining a lil brother in the process (https://archiveofourown.org/works/28855188#main…)

"Oh, can I be your Bibilly Hills?" by Fabro-de-omres (Fabro) - movieverse pre-movie, after finding out that their leader is Lloyd and seeing the bullying up close, the ninja decide to make a surprise blanket fort for Lloyd (https://archiveofourown.org/works/27822187#main…)

‌"And the Vocab Word of the Day Is..." by fishoutofcamelot - early s1 before Zane regained his memory but with Lloyd living with the ninja, someone taught Zane how to swear (it's a funny oneshot) (https://archiveofourown.org/works/36502231#main…)

"Devil's Horns" by TeuthidaRegina - au and sorta rewrite of s10, the cloud has a bit of an effect on Lloyd and his oni traits start showing; background survivalshipping + with a sequel (https://archiveofourown.org/works/38756427/chapters/96906630…)

"The Not-So-Warm Winters." by JayJay_07936 - short oneshot of everyone cuddling up to Kai on a cold winter night; some lavashipping (https://archiveofourown.org/works/33884434)

"Four Nights, Three Crushes, One Bed, what else do you need" by fizzysugarwrites - polyninja, jay pov; the title is pretty explainatory (https://archiveofourown.org/works/25866772/chapters/62850451…)

"Masking and Unmasking" by HelloThere3306 - movieverse, Lloyd accidentally loses his mask during a fight and the team finds out his identity. He runs (https://archiveofourown.org/works/42865698#main…)

"Kind" by Leonardo_Charles_BlueWood_21 - movieverse au, the words people think about you appear on your skin, Lloyd decides to do some good with that (https://archiveofourown.org/works/26722576)

"Look what you’ve done // Fucked up, hope you’re proud" by Just_ATrigger - Sora blames herself for creating the Photac. Lloyd talks to her (https://archiveofourown.org/works/47996062#main…)

‌"Real Life" by Anonymous - Sora is curious about Zane and asks some questions which make the other ninja worried; master of tech and a guy made of tech? yeah (https://archiveofourown.org/works/47781802/chapters/120452491…)

‌"There's Always Tomorro" by Leonardo_Charles_BlueWood_21 - Morro redemption fic (a lil Morro apologist vibe? might just be me. still a good read), Morro living with the ninja after s5 and slowly becoming part of the family (https://archiveofourown.org/works/27635941/chapters/67617703#workskin…)

‌"she was my sister before she was your lover" by SeraStars - set at the very beginning of s15; Kai tries to help still mourning Jay and push his own grief away but eventually snaps (https://archiveofourown.org/works/39271809#main…)

"Piggyback" by Echo_K - Kai gives Lloyd a piggyback ride to a candy stash to cheer him up, first after he finds out he's the Green Ninja and second after they put Garmadon in Kryptarium (https://archiveofourown.org/works/36230257#main…)

"lloyd garmadon discovers the ninja's inability to bargain with vendors" by sanology - exactly what the title says with some RG brothers (https://archiveofourown.org/works/39982485)

"lloyd garmadon makes kai smith cry on his birthday" by sanology - exactly what the title says with some RGB siblings and found family (https://archiveofourown.org/works/40838994)

‌"69 boughs of mistletoe on the wall" by lloydenthusiast - polyninja; Lloyd is tired of the ninja dancing around each other so he buys some mistletoe (https://archiveofourown.org/works/36942319#main…)

‌"The Candy Aisle" by VioletPixels - lil Lloyd gets lost in the store looking for the candy aisle and the panic ensures (https://archiveofourown.org/works/32092543#main…)

"The Idiots' Guide to Not Despising Your Cousin" by lloydskywalkers - green cousins go for a road trip (https://archiveofourown.org/works/24932815#main…)

‌"All the Little Things" by IAmStoryteller - a few drabbles of Kai being Nya's parent; mostly set before canon (https://archiveofourown.org/works/22992283/chapters/54970162…)

‌"The Skirt" by Spinchip (Thatkindghost) - Zane would love to wear a skirt but boys are not supposed to wear girl clothes, right?; gnc Zane oneshot (https://archiveofourown.org/works/30447384#main…)

"Stormbound" by Taddy_Maesson - post s15, sorta Seabound Jay AU; Jay hears the call of the storm and decides to follow it, however, doing so has its own consequences (https://archiveofourown.org/works/44427397/chapters/111745534…)

‌"the flames in the hearth" by sanology - post s7; the ninja get invited over by Ray and Maya who want to spend some time with their kids and their friends, but Kai and Nya are not little anymore and their parents forgetting about it grates on Kai (https://archiveofourown.org/works/39025779#main…)

"Bucket List" by Mattecat - after DotD Morro stayed in Ninjago, after s7 he stumbles onto Kai who lets him possess him for 2 weeks so he can live a life he didn't get to when he was alive (https://archiveofourown.org/works/18925009/chapters/44928871…)

‌"Days Go By" by thahash - lavashipping, coffee shop au; barista Kai and fashion designer Cole meet after Cole moves to Ninjago City and continues his routine of morning coffee (https://archiveofourown.org/works/47334079/chapters/119270812…)

"Lloyd’s guide to surviving the merge (and finding new family through it)" by BlueberryPeach - Dragons Rising AU where Lloyd met Arin and Sora shortly after the merge,,and kinda adopted them (https://archiveofourown.org/works/48632041/chapters/122672911…)

"you're on your own, kid (yeah you can face this)" by chaniinobu - the 5 times lloyd got sick and didn't ask for help and the 1 time he did (https://archiveofourown.org/works/48855328)

"Tend to the Flame (Lavashipping)" by Pieris_rapae - series, pirates and mermaids au; after his encounter with a pirate named Cole who steals and loses Kai's (a merman in the hiding) pendant, he, together with some others, ends up on a pirate ship (https://archiveofourown.org/series/3627736)

"Autopilot" by swordofsanctuary - greenflower, Brad and Lloyd finally manage to meet up again. Brad asks Lloyd for some help

(https://archiveofourown.org/works/46044562/chapters/115905625)

"King's Gambit" by shoepermario - citrusshipping, Echo finds half dead (even more?) Morro post s5. With no one else in the lighthouse they become close

(https://archiveofourown.org/works/46453207/chapters/116962000)

"The Struggles of having an Alter Ego" by ladc70_2003 - movieverse, the ninja don't know each other's identities and sometimes that might lead to a few problems. Delves into every ninja's life and their issues

(https://archiveofourown.org/works/39497796/chapters/98859363)

"Coinverse" by Mattecat - a series, after getting resurrected by Lloyd, Morro is given into Borg's care. It's a free child to adopt

(https://archiveofourown.org/series/1062602)

"Morro's Spooky Cafe" by coa_trees - movieverse au, Lloyd and his friends are regulars in Morro's cafe. He starts to care for the kids. Unfortunately they're also the ninja

(https://archiveofourown.org/works/48071317/chapters/121213048)

"Starlight, Heritage, and Stupid Self-Sacrificing Humans" by WritingMadness13 - Lloyd, Arin and Sora end up in season 9 Ninjago

(https://archiveofourown.org/works/49201786/chapters/124146586)

"i'm scared cause it means / i'm a little bit soft" by shoepermario - citrusshipping drabbles

(https://archiveofourown.org/works/51316885/chapters/129664270)

"Got Room For One More?" by kooki18 - polyninja, after getting into a fight at his new school Kai is sent to help out at a ranch for the summer to avoid suspension. Too bad he falls for 3 other guys there who are already in a relationship

(https://archiveofourown.org/works/46583272/chapters/117307066)

"moonlit mugs and tacit love" by holographicknife - lavashipping, a two-shot of the two ninja pining and then being an adorable old couple

(https://archiveofourown.org/works/39431094/chapters/98685285#workskin)

"No Wu AU" by IdkWhereIAmWhatAmIDoing - the ninja found each other by pure coincidence (and Lloyd in a trash can) without Wu, they also found out they have powers. Quite a rewrite fic

(https://archiveofourown.org/works/42440016/chapters/106583067)

"Post-Crystallized Sillies" by shoepermario - post-crystalized, one shots focused on Harumi, Echo (Mr E) and Morro (sorta set in an au?, check out @ataraxixx love his take on the papaja trio)

(https://archiveofourown.org/series/3769057)

"A Dance" by GravyHoney (@gravyhoney ) - bumblebeeshipping, while Arin makes a list of things for Percival to do after Beatrix's defeat, he decides that dancing is a pretty good start

(https://archiveofourown.org/works/51849733)

"look to the rising sun" by stars_brownies_and_metaphors - Arin and Sora chat and some coming out happens

(https://archiveofourown.org/works/47611363)

"cold nights and starlight" by stars_brownies_and_metaphors - Lloyd and Sora have a discussion about some habits current and past; **discussion of sh, mind the warnings**

(https://archiveofourown.org/works/47811133)

"Ice Skating" by phantombasketofmuffins (@phantombasketofmuffins ) - bumblebeeshipping, short oneshot of Arin and Percy ice skating :3

(https://archiveofourown.org/works/51944410)

"Hoodie stealin'" by RoseLock22 (@roselock22 ) - bumblebeeshipping, oneshot; Arin can't find his hoodie and calls Percy to see if maybe he knows where it went

(https://archiveofourown.org/works/51977005)

"The Junkyard" by citrus_stoner - oneshot; after Jay and Nya go to see a movie while visiting Ed and Edna, Ed and Kai talk, set after s1

(https://archiveofourown.org/works/52226914)

"May I request him by my side?" by Tensoserensei - greenflowershipping oneshot; the ninja are invited to a fancy party, Lloyd finds Brad working there as a server and just this once decides to use his status

(https://archiveofourown.org/works/51954877)

"Blue and Green Make Aquamarine" by Finn_M_Corvex - greenflowershipping oneshot; Lloyd tries to figure out what to gift Brad back

(https://archiveofourown.org/works/52597663)

"A song and a spin" by RoseLock22 - bumblebeeshipping oneshot; Percival comes over to the Monastery to help Arin with training. One thing leads to another

(https://archiveofourown.org/works/52487443)

"Dancin'" by RoseLock22 - bumblebeeshipping oneshot; Arin teaches Percy how to dance

(https://archiveofourown.org/works/52737436)

"Starlight, Heritage, and Stupid Self-Sacrificing Humans" by WritingMadness13 - Lloyd, Arin and Sora land in the past during s9

(https://archiveofourown.org/works/49201786/chapters/124146586)

"Permanently Marked" by Tensoserensei - canon divergent, some bumblebeeshipping; Beatrix manages to capture Percival when he was leading the ninja into the resistance hideout. Percy doesn't want the facial markings that would give him a role in Imperium. Too bad that's about to be his punishment for being a traitor

(https://archiveofourown.org/works/53284189/chapters/134845183)

"Sacrificial Jacket" by Tensoserensei - greenflowershipping; Lloyd is hanging out with his old friends from Darkley's when suddenly his period hits. Brad helps out

(https://archiveofourown.org/works/53689999/chapters/135910720)

"Here We Go Again" by Inverse_Me - Cole ends up in the "monastery", a 'last chance' group home for,,special kids with lots of heavy issues **mind the warnings**

(https://archiveofourown.org/works/49937371/chapters/126074998)

"Getting that Couples Discount" by Tensoserensei - greenflowershipping, lavashipping; there's a couples discount in Chen's noodlehouse for Valentines. It stacks up with more couples in the group. But Kai, Cole and Lloyd aren't dating anyone. Fake (?) dating ensures

(https://archiveofourown.org/works/53914618/chapters/136466293)

"What Does it Take for a Hero to Break?" by Blue1Phoenix - oneshot, DR; despite it having been years, trauma from Morro's possession still has some grip on Lloyd. A wrong question from Arin sets it off

(https://archiveofourown.org/works/54227413)

"Wobbly Hearts" by Leonardo_Charles_BlueWood_21 - movieverse soulmates au; Kai doesn't like soulmates. He knows he has three of them but he doesn't need them and they don't need him. High school is hard enough with letters floating off the page and writing anything being an almost impossible task. Too bad the universe doesn't care

(https://archiveofourown.org/works/53062414/chapters/134249821)

"you're on your own, kid (yeah you can face this)" by chaniinobu - the 5 times lloyd got sick and didn't ask for help and the 1 time he did

(https://archiveofourown.org/works/48855328)

"Lloyd after Seabound" by Tensoserensei - series, Lloyd dealing with Nya's sacrifice post-Seabound, eventual greenflowershipping

(https://archiveofourown.org/series/3721519)

"I Still Remember (All the People I Love)" by shoepermario - post-s3, Lloyd is cooking with Sensei Garmadon, it reminds him of Zane

(https://archiveofourown.org/works/53273923#main)

"We were supposed to be training, weren't we?" by RoseLock22 - bumblebeeshipping, boys in love during a break in training

(https://archiveofourown.org/works/55050013)

"Recursion" by shoepermario - s5, Swap AU where instead of Morro possessing Lloyd, Zane gets possessed by a different ghost

(https://archiveofourown.org/works/55143352/chapters/139831132#workskin)

562 notes · View notes

jo-harrington · 1 year

Text

Freaky Friday - A Stranger Things Story (Part 1)

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5

Word Count: 3.5k

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader, Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader, Eddie and Steve (Enemies to Friends)

Summary: Eddie thinks that Steve has everything in life handed to him on a silver platter (including his new girlfriend who Eddie has a crush on). And Steve just can't believe that the kids look up to Eddie the Freak, or that he lives his life without giving a single fuck.

Must be nice. But you know what they say, the grass is always greener.

Warnings/Themes: AU with no Upside Down. Body swapping, dark magic/alchemy, unrequited love--some crushes at least, Babysitter Steve, No Upside Down means slightly still King Steve, unresolved feelings, manipulation/deception, Reader gets a nickname (Honey), no Y/N if I can help it, no smut in Part 1 but liable to be in other chapters

Note: After a very hot and fast suggestion by @shiftingtherain, this mini-series was born. And instead of working on Store Manager Verse like I wanted to, here we are. This part is a little shorter...it's the intro, sue me. Next few parts will be a tad longer.

Credit for the header partially goes to me for the design and the logistics but I was tired, so I may have borrowed gifs from @emziess and Netflix itself as a jumping off point (with permission from Emzies and Netflix is a corporation so they can rot). I can only do so much guys, I also had to write this thing too.

You can find my masterlist here.

Please do not interact if you are not 18+.

Enjoy!

If Eddie never saw Steve Harrington again in his life, it would still be too soon.

He didn't always indulge in rentals from Family Video—if it was too cold and wet to have band practice in Gareth's garage, or if he was having an especially bad week at school, or if he needed something a little more realistic than the illustrations of Heavy Metal magazine to help him satisfy his needs—but today just had that special feel to it.

He'd gotten a B on his math test, Rick had been feeling a little under the weather and let Eddie make the rounds to his usuals for a sweet little cut, and he had found a dusty old book about alchemy and occultism at the library that was going to help him put the finishing touches on tomorrow night's Hellfire session.

For all of that, Eddie thought a little reward was in order.

A little Dark Crystal, a little pizza from Lou's, a little weed...he'd be having the best Thursday night.

Except...

For the past twenty minutes, he'd pretended to hem and haw over the selection of movies just so he could glare across the store at the counter, where Steve stood, flirting and making grandiose promises, with you.

He burned with jealousy, and God, it took almost everything in him not to gag as Steve reached across the counter to slyly hold your hand. And everything else for his heart not to break as you just let it happen.

Eddie didn't know how or when or why this started—when Harrington had gotten his claws into you and how he had managed to charm his way into your heart—when it should have been Eddie instead.

Eddie'd had a crush on you for years but had always been too nervous to do anything about it.

You were a year younger than him, and friends with his pal Mickey's younger sister, so he'd seen you around quite a bit. Smart and funny and pretty; maybe not as unpopular as Eddie was, but certainly not in the running for homecoming court or whatever other social hierarchies were in place at Hawkins High either. He figured...you know, maybe once he got to senior year he'd get the courage. Maybe take you to prom or something; who wouldn't want to go out with a senior?

But he'd gotten the notice from Higgins that he wouldn't be graduating with the rest of the Class of '84 and it really put a damper on his plans.

He had been hopeful again the following year, actually had a few classes with you and sat with you for partner work when no one else wanted to work with him, when they laughed at him. You weren't even afraid to go up to him in the cafeteria to ask a question, or walk with him in the hall if you had to go in the same direction for your next class. You'd talk about assignments mostly, but he savored every little fact he could learn about you. What books you'd been reading, the fact that you watched Svengoolie on Saturday nights—just like he did—or that you'd had some squabble with Mickey's sister over a scrunchie of all things and were no longer speaking.

But Eddie knew how bad his grades were—somehow even worse than the year before—and aside from the work you did with him, he knew it wasn't gonna be enough for him to graduate. So he wasn't gonna put himself in the position for you to laugh in his face—not that you would but...just in case you did—by asking you out.

He thought you would disappear from his life after you graduated. Get the hell out of Hawkins the way everyone else wanted to. But no. You took a few classes at the community college and worked the dinner shift at Benny's a few nights a week. You'd been there every Tuesday night, when he and the guys grabbed food after their gig at the Hideout. The usual booth reserved, drinks already poured by the time they sat down, and their usual orders already written in your little order pad.

You usually gave him extra whipped cream on his slice of cherry pie too.

The guys always urged him to ask for your number...but he never did. How could he? Even if you were stuck in this town the same way he was...he just couldn't bring himself to do it.

And now...here you were, listening to Harrington talk about some great surprise he had planned for your third date the next day.

Eddie wondered why you hadn't screamed in outrage when Steve mentioned how much Nancy Wheeler had liked it when he took her to this mystery place. He would have definitely expected you to at least flinch at the mention of his ex-girlfriend's name.

"It sounds really great," you said instead, smiling and nodding. "I get out of class at 3 on Fridays...should I be here around 4?"

"4 is perfect, honey," Steve grinned.

Eddie couldn't stand to hear whatever sickeningly sweet goodbye you both would come up with so he just grabbed whatever tape was in front of him and approached the counter. You and Steve both flinched when Eddie slammed his selections down on the counter to be checked out.

“Uh…I’ll see you tomorrow then. Bye Steve,” you muttered, eyeing Eddie with a half-smile that felt a bit sad. “Bye Eddie.”

"Bye honey."

“Bye honey,” Eddie mocked once you were out the door, then turned back to Steve. “You gonna try and make goo goo eyes at me next Harrington? I don’t have all day.”

“Jesus Munson. What’s up your ass?” Steve scoffed, grabbing the tapes.

“I’m just trying to get my videos and go.” Eddie rapped his knuckles on the counter. “Not really interested in the kind of customer service you're trying to provide."

Steve wondered what the likelihood of getting fired would be, if he just punched that smug look right off of Munson's face.

Keith hated the guy too, he always left the Adult section looking like a mess. Maybe Steve would get a promotion instead.

For years Eddie roamed around Hawkins being a general menace with his gaggle of friends. Causing trouble, shouting at people, making faces at old ladies. He’d gotten “taken in” to the police station one too many times but always seemed to make it out without actually being arrested. Which baffled Steve; Eddie was a drug dealer for crying out loud.

And yeah, Steve had even asked him to come and deal at a party or two but…people like that were bad. Simple as that.

Even after all of that, after you got past the “bad boy” persona….he was a fucking nerd. He wasn’t even cool like the bad boys in movies were. Steve felt like someone was tricking him the first time he had walked past the Hellfire Club’s table in the cafeteria. For all the leather and chains and band tees—all the talk of satanic rituals and blood sacrifices—there was sure a lot of talk about elves and…and bards and Star Wars.

So it shouldn’t have been a surprise to Steve that the kids would flock to Eddie by the time they made it to Hawkins High.

But it had been. A huge shock.

His unexpected little gaggle of morons…weren’t really his anymore.

Steve had dropped Dustin off on the first day of school and said “don’t get into any trouble.” Even made Robin promise to keep an eye out for him. He expected the kid to…join the mathletes or something. Get roped in with the science nerds.

But by the end of the week, the kids were all clamoring about how they would need to reschedule movie nights with Steve so they could go to Hellfire club with Eddie.

Steve couldn’t understand it. Eddie was a freak, a punk, some good for nothing…and now the kids were suddenly following him like he was some sort of prophet. Spreading the word of Obi-Wan Kenobi.

See? Steve could do the nerd talk too when he wanted...thanks to Dustin.

Who, much to Steve's annoyance, was apparently Eddie's biggest fan. The guy could do no wrong in Dustin's eyes, and it really irked Steve.

Will and Lucas were spending Saturdays at the library—not for homework, but for research because apparently Eddie really liked incorporating mythology into his campaigns. (Whatever that meant.) Mike was growing his hair out because "Eddie's hair was cool.” What about Steve, whose literal nickname was The Hair? Shit, he'd even seen Eddie give Max a ride to school on a few occasions when he was late dropping Robin off. And he knew Max and her mom had been having a hard time since her step-dad skipped town and Billy...

Steve knew some of the town gossip about Eddie was just a bunch of bullshit...but if Max Mayfield was cool with him?

Yeah, he just couldn't help but be suspicious of the guy.

Regardless, the sooner Steve could get him out of the store, the better his night was gonna get.

...actually...

"That's gonna be $10." Steve announced dryly.

"Woah, $10?!" Eddie scoffed. "I have a membership."

"Since when?" Steve asked, hands immediately landing on his hips.

"I use one every time I'm in here."

"Yeah you use Reefer Rick's."

"So?"

"New policy," Steve lied, hoping it would get Eddie out of his hair for a good while. "No sharing memberships outside of your family. Last I checked, your last name isn't Lipton. So you either cough up the $25 for a new membership Munson, or the $10 for your rental. What's it gonna be?"

Eddie grumbled and dug his wallet out of his pocket, slamming the money on the counter.

"Any candy?" Steve asked mockingly before grabbing the cash.

Eddie grabbed the tape and grumbled under his breath as he exited the store.

Yeah, Steve wasn't gonna be dealing with him any time soon.

For a second though, as he went to start processing returns, he wondered...

If Eddie was in some ritualistic cult...what kind of curse could he possibly put on me?

But that was a dumb thought to have.

Eddie's night just went down hill from the minute he left Family Video.

He didn't notice that they'd given him the wrong pizza at Lou's so now he was stuck with some specialty veggie pie with broccoli on it, the tape he had grabbed indiscriminately had been some artsy foreign romance crap, and just now he'd just spilled Dr. Pepper all over his Hellfire notebook.

"Fuck," he shouted as it spilled over the side of the coffee table and onto his sock-clad feet. He couldn't give a shit about the carpet, he could even ignore his wet socks, but his notebook. Weeks of work, planning and toiling over the most sadistic campaign.

He liked to keep all of the notes of Hellfire's completed campaigns, a sort of...record for future kids to look back on and reference. And now this specific masterpiece would be lost to memory.

He cleaned everything up as best he could before making a quick trip back to his room for an extra notebook or something he could use to salvage his plans for tomorrow's session. He had always been really bad at...keeping spare notebooks on hand. Even the ones he'd used for class always ended up covered in his drawings or notes, little bits and ideas of dialogue he could use for speeches or NPCs.

The best he could find was his math notebook from last year which, surprisingly, sat relatively untouched.

Eddie knew why: that was a class he shared with you. And as he opened to some random mostly-empty page, he saw his little scribbles in the margins surrounding half-faded, penciled-in algebraic equations. Daggers and hearts and his and your initials intertwined together.

It was the one class where he would never encounter partner work with you, so he felt compelled to fill the pages with his daydreams instead of fantasies and lore. You would never see it.

"Well," he huffed as he dropped back down onto the floor and slapped the notebook onto the coffee table. He grabbed his pen and scribbled over the drawings on the page. "Now that she's with Harrington, no use living in this fantasy. Fuck, I was stupid, so stupid to ever think she would want anything to do with me."

He grabbed the dusty old alchemical book from the library and found his place, staring at old sigils and runes and text indiscriminately until he came upon one that looked too perfect for the campaign. Concentric circles, arcane lettering, angular lines...

While Eddie would usually use a clean page for something like this—something he would hand off to his players—he drew a copy of the sigil onto the page and planned to rip the edges off, maybe singe them with his lighter to make it look more authentic.

He kept staring at the still-noticeable doodles beneath the pen scribbles and his heart ached a little in his chest.

Yeah, he would definitely want to burn those too.

By the time he was done copying the sigil, a wave of exhaustion overtook him and he glanced down at his watch.

It wasn't much later than he usually went to bed on a weeknight...

He stared at the half-ruined notes for tomorrow's session that he still needed to rewrite and sighed.

"Fuck it, I'll just redo them in the morning." He got up and stretched his arms over his head. "I can just sleep in tomorrow. Skip class. Show up for Hellfire. Who cares anymore.”

He put the rest of the pizza in the fridge for Wayne and then headed to bed, only to be plagued with dreams of scribbled out love hearts, movie theater candy, guitar solos, and big red gum.

When Eddie woke up the next morning, he felt...honestly felt like he was floating on a cloud. Every muscle in his body felt looser, yet somehow tighter at the same time. His skin felt tighter, like it wasn't right, like it didn't fit somehow, it was suffocating him.

He must have died but he wasn't quite sure if this was heaven or hell.

His eyes burned and blurred slightly as he opened them and what he saw was...unexpected.

Gone were the off-white walls, his posters, the piles of his crap, and that concerning patch of probably-mold in the corner of the ceiling. Instead there was a sturdy ceiling, plaid-papered walls, and matching curtains?

Eddie groaned and rolled over.

What the fuck was this place?

There was a slam of a door somewhere that practically shook the walls surrounding Eddie and as he sat up, he found himself only wearing...briefs? He didn't wear briefs.

This wasn’t his bed, wasn’t his room…wasn’t his… body?

He looked down at his chest, his arms, his hands…his fingers weren’t right, he didn’t have this many freckles and moles, he didn’t have…abs, if that’s what you could call the slight definition on his torso. Still it was more than his body had ever had. His skin…was itchy and mostly hairless.

Eddie reached up and touches his hair—shorter than he was used to, not curly…at all—then his face, as if that was any indicator to what he—

“A mirror!” He exclaimed. His voice…sounded familiar, but different. Fuck what kind of dream was this?

Because it had to be a dream right? It had to be. How else did he wake up in someone else’s body?

He pushed himself out of the bed, walking slightly off-cadence, which…yeah probably came with the territory of your brain needing to get used to a new body. Fuck…was his brain even his brain or did his mind just get transported what was happening?

Ugh it was too early to think about that.

Eddie slowly cracked the bedroom door open and peaked into the rest of the house. He spotted a bathroom just across the way, otherwise…shit, this place actually looked a little familiar. Where the fuck was he? Who the fuck was he?

He quickly crossed the landing into the bathroom, slamming the door shut behind him. He heaved a breath and leaned back against the door for a moment to calm himself; his hands were shaking and felt cold. Could he even feel his fingers? Nice to know the occasional nervousness that snuck up on him at his lowest moments hadn’t been left behind in his old body, that they’d followed him to this one.

His body…would it still be in his bed? What if he really had died and…had jumped into his new body? Was this reincarnation?

Fuck, if he was dead…Wayne would find him. Could he even…see his uncle again? How could he ever explain who he was?

Eddie felt the tears prick his eyes and his throat tighten and he slapped his face a few times.

“Come on man, come on,” he muttered. “It’s not that bad. It’s only…mildly awful. Fuck, ok. Just go, just look, just…rip it off like a bandaid.”

Eddie took a deep breath and nodded, then crossed the short distance to stand in front of the sink. He stared at his new feet, wiggled his new toes. You never…appreciated the toes you had until you have new ones.

That was awful and you’re an idiot. Just look.

Eddie closed his eyes again and turned his face up towards the mirror. He could do it. He would do it.

He opened his eyes.

“Jesus H. Christ!”

Steve woke up feeling like absolute shit. Everything ached—like he had pulled a muscle or something by sleeping crookedly—he had awful cottonmouth, and he had inhaled…some yarn or something because he woke up coughing and gagging until he got the intrusive strands out of his mouth.

“Gahh, shit, shit,” he said and scratched at his throat. He sounded hoarse. Ugh was he getting sick? He’d have to ask his mom to bring home some soup or something.

Could he call out of work? Shit he had to take Robin to school. She could walk today, he felt awful.

Steve blinked his eyes open and took in the unfamiliar popcorn ceiling with growing concern.

He looked around at the…piles of garbage and the cracks in the plaster walls partially covered by band posters...and felt the rise of panic grow within him. He tried to recall the night before.

He’d wrapped up his shift at Family Video, gone home and had a rare dinner with both of his parents, then…felt extremely tired and went to bed.

So how did he end up here…wherever here was?

This was a kidnapping; it had to be. He was…drugged—explained the cottonmouth—and kidnapped. And now someone was holding him for ransom or something to…blackmail his father? Thomas Harrington was kind of a dick sometimes, sure, but still…he was a pretty decent guy. Who would want to blackmail him?

“H-hello?” Steve called out. “Anyone there? C-can anyone hear me?”

There was some shuffling outside of the door of the room.

Thankfully Steve wasn’t tied up or anything. God, what kind of kidnappers were these? He quickly glanced around the room for a weapon of some sort and he immediately spotted...

A guitar? A few guitars actually. Man these kidnappers really liked music huh?

One was a weird shape--he'd seen some hair metal bands use guitars like that in magazines, but he'd never seen one in person--and was a mottled red color. One was just what you'd expect when someone said "electric guitar." And one was acoustic and looked like it could pack a real wallop.

Bingo.

Steve pushed himself out of the bed and immediately jumped because whatever had been in his mouth was on his shoulders now. He reached up to grab it: hair. Long, wavy, messy...knotty and frizzy. Like it hadn't been brushed for days, maybe weeks?

And his arm, sticking out from whatever t-shirt he'd been put in...was lithe and weak and there were tattoos. On both arms. A creepy claw hand and a bunch of bats.

What was this? How long had they held him hostage for? No wonder they didn't feel the need to tie him up! He'd been knocked out cold.

He needed to get out of here. Now. He needed to get home.

Steve crossed the room to grab the guitar when he noticed it. At first he thought it was another person. But no, it was just a mirror...and in the mirror...his reflection.

Only it wasn't...his reflection.

It had startled him and he had jumped. Then he moved his arms a little and watched the figure in the mirror mimic him. Over and over.

A wave, a turn, a funny face.

He couldn’t believe it. This had to be a joke. A dream. A nightmare.

Because it was him, his reflection. But it was not his—Steve Harrington’s—reflection.

It was Eddie Munson's.

#Eddie munson x reader #Eddie munson fluff #Eddie munson stranger things #Steve Harrington x reader #Steve Harrington stranger things #Eddie and steve #stranger things fic #Eddie munson fic #eddie munson imagine #Steve Harrington imagine

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sunnylighter · 2 months

Note

What is Movie wu's Relationship with Movie morro Really like

Above all, they have a father-son relationship and love each other.

That said, Morro is the one person in both Ninjagos who can read Wu like a book and knows exactly when he's full of shit. The mysticism is completely gone for him, and whenever Wu is playing up the wise and cryptic mentor, Morro can tell if his father is trying to avoid the truth or just trying to sound knowledgeable when he's just as clueless as the rest of them. Morro is the one person Wu can never lie to because Morro can tell and will call him on it. As such, Morro is often Wu's confidant in things he doesn't want to talk about, especially once Morro becomes old and mature enough that Wu doesn't feel like he's just dumping his traumas on a child, but instead, he's a non-judgemental listening ear and a shoulder to lean on. They trust each other implicitly.

They're also both trolls who love to mess with people and will trade tips and tricks on how to best tease the Ninja or Garmadon.

#ninjago #lego ninjago movie #gigau #grass is always greener au #lego ninjago #master wu #sensei wu #ninjago morro #my headcanons

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muzansfangs · 22 days

Note

hii ogm!! i'm loving the drink event and can't wait to see more stories! i wanted to request a manhattan with muzan (fem reader) where muzan is a politican, similar to in Kimetsu Academia where hes a politican!

sorry if i wasn't being to direct!

feel free to deny the request etc and have a great day! <3

The grass is greener on the other side.

Starring: Muzan Kibutsuji x f!reader;

Format: one-shot;

Warnings: nsfw, age gap between Muzan and the reader but the reader is 21, corruption kink, anal sex, modern au, unprotected sex, mention to reader stretching herself out before the encounter, pet names, slight degradation, use of handcuffs;

Plot: You knew only one thing for sure and thus was that Muzan Kibutsuji was your father’s rival. With the incoming election day, you were busy running errands for your father, when you found yourself face to face with the devil himself. From that infamous night, you always found yourself tangled into the silky bedsheets of Muzan’s bed, allowing him to strip you off of your sense of self-preservation, dignity and purity with every secret meeting.

Drink chosen: MANHATTAN (anal sex, corruption kink, handcuffs, shy reader);

MASTERLIST FOR THE EVENT | RULES FOR THE EVENT

﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

"Dad, I can't make it to the conference in time. My flight got cancelled. I'll take the next one in the morning" you blatantly lied to your father, eyes staring at the golden number decorating the white door of the hotel room you were supposed to meet the reason of your little defection at.

It was not the first time you abandoned your duty as the daughter of a man running for becoming the next Prime Minister to follow your lecherous whims. You felt ashamed of yourself, when this started. You were not that kind of girl, but this man had clearly brought out the worst in you, convincing you it was perfectly fine to fight for what you wanted. To be a little selfish was essential to live without regrets.

Even if your choices would have hurt and disappointed the ones you loved.

But if they did not know about your whereabous, they would have not suffered, right? Therefore, here you were, telling lies to the man who raised you, spoiled you and treated you like a princess since the day you were born. All of this for the sake of a secret affair with his younger rival, the very man he was competing with to conquer the hearts of the electors.

“Don’t worry, honey! You have already done so much for me. — your father reassured you from the other side of the phone, causing your stomach to clench as the remorse ate you from the inside out — You will attend the next one” he exclaimed confidently, while you fluttered your eyes close and nodded your head mournfully. If only he knew where you were, if only he saw you now, wearing that scanty dress to please Kibutsuji, he would have undoubtedly watched his perfect little girl turn into a stranger, a backstabber deserving nothing but vituperation.

“I’m sorry, dad. For real. I’ll be rooting for you anyway” you said with a tinge of sorrow in your voice, right before knocking on the door and hearing the sound of footsteps approaching it from the other side.

“Oh, sweetheart, I know you will. I really have to go now! Take care” your father said then, right when two piercing red eyes locked with yours on the threshold of the hotel room you deemed as nothing more than the Gates of Hell.

Your breath was suddenly stuck in your throat and you barely forced yourself to end the call with a “Bye, dad” before Muzan snorted and stepped aside to invite you in. He was visibly displeased at the sweet way you had whispered the epithet rightfully reserved to the man you shared the same blood with.

He hated the fact that you were his daughter and, if he had to be honest with himself, he had decided to lure you in his den to get back at him. At least, at first. Horrified at the idea of growing attached to you, something that had inevitably already happened, he tried to act distant, but you constantly made it hard to let him consider you nothing more than a cheap harlot. Why? Those eyes of yours, your shyness, were endearing to say the least.

“You can’t stay away from me, can you?” he mocked you, closing the door behind you and watching as you kept your eyes transfixed on the polished marble floor under your shoes.

“I wish I could. It’s not that simple” you whispered, shrugging your coat off of your shoulders and abent-mindedly hooking it on the clothes hanger.

The moment your voluptuary curves were exposed to his gaze, you felt it. Shivers ran down your spine, while you did not dare to turn around and face him. It was unncessary, anyway. He walked stauntered towards you like a predator, his hands searching for yours as he pressed you against the wall. His cologne intoxicated you, while his hot breath fanned the shell of your ear in a scandalous way that made your thighs squeeze together. Planting your palms to the wall before you, he intertwined yours fingrs and nuzzled your cheek with his pointy nose.

“I think it’s true what they say. The things we love are frequently the ones that destroy us” he murmured in your ear, his lips tracing your jawline hazardously.

No matter how many times you had crumbled at his feet, granted him the chance to break you down and build you up again, his touch left you always in a haze. Your cheeks heated up, a knot between your eyebrows, as you tried to hide your face from him. If only you could understand how much that tender trait of your personality drove him nuts.

“Don’t hide from me” he stated, surprisingly tenderly as he reached his hand up to wrap it on the back of your neck.

His grip was secure, when he forced you to crane your neck to meet his gaze. His lips captured yours shamelessly, hungrily, his tongue darting out of his mouth to lap at your parted lips and enter your mouth with the same confidence he held when he walked on a stage. Arrogant and unhinged, demanding and never coy he snaked his arm around your waist to make sure your back was flattened against his firm body. Timid moans fell from your lips, sounds he galdly swallowed, whilst leading you towards the king-sized bed at his back.

Lifting your lids to peer up at him, you hesitantly turned around to be face to face with him and your hand cupped his smooth cheek to run your thumb over his cheekbone. Theoughout the time you two had spent together, you had learned to read his body language. He never gave you the chance to be the master of your sea, but he did not disdain small attentions that oulked the strings of his heart. He had almost given you the impression he was touch-starved, as a dog who had been forced to just bark and growl all of his life and showing off his sharp fangs to keep potential threats at bay.

Muzan had barely opened up with you about his past and personal life. All that he asked of you was someone to keep his bed warm at night, even if you had to crawl into the darkness with him to quench his thirst for you.

You kissed him again, slowly, making sure your bodies were pressed up, that not an inch stood between you two. He reciprocated your attention, careful to remark how you were merely able to take the initiative because he had reluctantly allowed you to. You would have never forgotten it anyway. Not when his hands unceremoniously tugged the straps of your dress down your shoulders and proceeded in ripping it apart. You gasped, the sound of the garment coming apart at the seams making you knee buckle.

Muzan flicked his gaze up, tugging the ruined item down your curves to expose your body to him. The way you bit onto your lower lip nervously, still striving to avoid his plum red eyes made him want to ruin you over and over again. Every single time you two met, Muzan stripped you off of things he had yet to touch. Today was not an exception.

“What? Are you sulking over that dress? – he taunted you, quirking a dark eyebrow up before unbuckling his belt hastily – Ask your dad to buy you a new one. After all, he would be ecstatic to shower you in gifts” he bitterly commented, discarding the leather item onto the floor and shoving you down onto the bed by pushing onto your midriff.

His cold touch made your skin sizzle and your mouth went dry, when you lifted yourself up on your elbows, watching him stride to his suitcase and delving his hand into it, rummaging to draw something out.

“Or you wish it was me the one who sent gifts to you, huh? I bet you do. But, mon chéri, you know your dad would toss them into the bin. Therefore, I am forced to give you something else. Something your dad cannot see” he bantered again, his words sounding like a dagger in your heart, words representing the lyrics to the melody played by some metallic object clinking in his hands.

With your heart thrumming into your chest, you let your eyes wander to figure out the source of the chiming only to feel your breath hitch in your throat, when you found out they were shiny handcuffs. The look on your face spoke volumes, your body shuddering in anticipation as you kept on switching your focus from the object dangling from his index and his face.

Mischief twinkled in his eyes, watching in delight as you shifted your position on the bed in sheer desire and pure terror of exploring your tastes, terrorized to find out that you were probably as deranged as he was.

“You are noxious to me. You’ve poisoned me. I should not be here and let you mess me up” you uttered, sitting in a kneeling position on the snow-white sheets of the bed.

Muzan grinned and grasped your chin between his thumb and forefinger, face dangerously close to yours as he grinned at your face “Then why are you here? Why are you not in the crowd rooting for you daddy, huh? You’re royally screwing up, darling” he cooed, forcing you to lay face down on the bed.

With your cheek pressed against the rose-scented blankets, you chewed on the inside of your cheeks in a spiral of self-deprecation. He was right. You had deliberately chosen to follow him that infamous night and, much to your dismay, the following ones. It was all on you and your greedy heart, hypothetically assuming you still had one in your chest.

Muzan climbed on the bed behind you, his hands reaching for your wrists and pinning them togther behind your bed as he slapped the cuffs around them, factually preventing you from moving your arms freely.

“Have you done what I had asked of you?” he then inquired, hands already slipping underneath the waistband of your thong and dragging the thin item down your thigh.

“Yes, I did” you whispered, ashamed of yourself as he hummed in return.

The things you had done for him, things that had not even crossed your still innocent mind made you want to rip yourself apart. But how? How could you blame yourself for wanting him?

“Splendid. — Muzan chimed, reaching for something behind him on nightstand — Just relax. Look, I’ll let you see your beloved daddy while I fuck you up, alright?” he sarcastically taunted you, as you began to put the dots together. The remoter, he had grabbed the remoter. He remembered the exact hour your dad was supposed to speak to the Country.

Sweat beaded your forehead as you squirmed underneath him, a hoarse chuckle rambling from somewhere deep into his chest as the screen of the tv projected the smiling, proud face of your father. His eyes seemed to bore right into yours as Muzan fumbled behind you with his pants and grasped your hips into his calloused hands.

“Ah, look at him. My rival has a good taste in neckties. Where does he buy them? Marinella? Those are surely italian-coded” the raven-haired man behind you noted, deliviring another unfathomable kick in your guts.

“You are a bastard” you whispered, eyes widening as he pressed the girthy tip of his cock against your puckered hole. The stretch left you breathless, eyes watering in the process. Frankly, seeing the face of your father partially blurry was far way better than having a clear vision.

While Muzan grunted, makinf sure you could feel every inch of his cock dilating you, the words your dad said made you choke out an uncontrollable sob.

“My sweet daughter could not be by my side today. Her presence is a blessing. Hopefully, she’s now somewhere out there to bless someone else’s day. I love you, sweetheart!” your father said and there was a burst of applause to echo throughout the room.

Wincing softly in pain, hips rotating to accomodate to the intrusion in your most private area, you had to endure the way Muzan sneered and began to rhythmically thrust into you, a crazed expression on his face as he pounded into you without much care of your condition “Oh, you have no idea. Her ass is a fucking blessing, sir” he mocked your father, earning a stifle moan from you.

You wished you could space out, but it was impossible. The stimulation you were receiving was driving you mad. The pain gradually subsided, causing a series of unbridled moans to erupt from your throat. Drool was running down the angle of your mouth, back arching convulsively, as you heard every words your father said and felt every comment Muzan made.

“Fuck… Nah, I’m going to have to send my regards to your father, kitten. — he rasped out, giving you one last thrust, before pulling out with a groan and releasing onto the small of your back — After all, I’m going to steal his lucky charm from him, once I beat him” he whispered after a few seconds.

Trembling, astonished, you closed your eyes and laid there with a drained expression on your face. Muzan Kibutsuji was going to be the death of you.

AUTHOR NOTE.

Hello there! The third request for my event is done! Honestly, I hope you’ve enjoyed this one as much as I did. Why? Guys, come on, it reflects my main story “Guilty pleasure”. I felt like I had deprived you of ‘Politician Muzan’ for way too long not to write this one as soon as possible. Now, likes, comments and re-posts are greatly appreciated!

Until next,

X O X O

TAGS: @doumadono @axesfordays @tomorika-pura @cursetopia @the-dark-creature @yazzzmints

#muzan x reader #muzan x you #muzan smut #muzan kibutsuji x reader #kibutsuji muzan x reader #muzan x y/n #demon slayer smut #demon slayer x reader #kny smut #muzan kibutsuji

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merakiui · 2 months

Note

After seeing some lovely fanart of Jade, I thought of a Forest Lord AU

One in which the reader is on the run and stumbles into an enchanted forest that seems fine on the outside but is actually the domain of the forest god, Jade! When they encounters him,, he promises to grant their wish of freedom. Everything seems to go well in their life from then on but there’s something lurking around reader that they can’t shake. I can’t imagine Jade would grant wishes without wanting something in return >_< when the reader returns wondering why they’re starting to feel unsafe again, is when he reveals he can keep them safe permanently. With him! :D

Jade wanting your firstborn child in return, but the surprise is that he's the one knocking you up..............

Forest god!Jade who keeps you trapped in a little prison of brambles and branches. <3 the more you struggle, the sharper and tighter they get, enclosing on all sides until you're confined in such a tight space. They'll loosen and retreat if you stop acting so difficult, but Jade thinks you need to learn a lesson first. He'll patch up any scratches you might garner from the thorns.

Forest god!Jade who makes the prettiest flora bloom for you. There are flowers you've never even seen before, each more mystical than the last. He's especially fond of mushrooms. They have a tendency to pop up around him whenever he's in a bad mood, growing in abundant clusters, but if he's happy the grass is greener and the flowers are blossoming in an array of bright, beautiful colors.

Forest god!Jade who always blends into the domain in which he inhabits. Donning a mossy cloak, a crown of twigs, clothes stitched together from leaves, he looks so lithe and dainty. It catches you by surprise when that same sweet-looking god turns out to be quite fearsome if you incur his ire...

Forest god!Jade who conjures toadstool seats for you and him to sit down on for a tea party in a comfortable clearing in the forest. The trees are tall and thick, surrounding you on all sides. You feel trapped, but Jade just smiles at you and pours you another cup of dandelion tea.

Intruders who stray too deep into his domain are dealt with at once. Jade has fun toying with them, pawing them around as if he's a cat and they're unfortunate mice. You ask him if he absolutely must do this every time. He smiles at you: "Am I not repaying the favor? If they can spend days trampling on my flora and hunting my fauna, then they can spend a dozen more clinging to a wasted life." There is sadistic glee in those mismatched eyes of his... You remind yourself to never get on his bad side unless you want to spend the last remaining slivers of your life trapped and walking aimlessly through a creepy, enchanted forest.

#twisted chit chat #yandere twst

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tinyqu0kka · 1 month

Text

"THE GRASS SEEMS GREENER."

Requested no/yes Genre fluff 300 words ⭒˳ 𔘓⭒˳゜ Pairing han Jisung x reader AU non!idol ⭒˳ 𔘓⭒˳゜

A/N this is my first drabble on here so I hope this is okay ! Sorry it ' s a little short !

⠀⠀ ˖⏝ׄ⏝˖⏝ׄ⏝‌୨‌୧⏝ׄ⏝˖⏝ׄ⏝˖

Walking in a beautiful field of flowers. your favorite, actually. Carnations. Han knew you loved them, he always gave you a bouquet of them every time he picked you up for a date. But, this time, he wanted to bring you to a whole field of them, instead.

Your hands are intertwined within his sun kissed, soft hands. The sunset before you two as you guys peacefully walk through the field of Carnations, together. It was a comfortable silence.

"Honey?” Han turns his head to look at you, waiting for a response.

“Hm?” You hummed. “How is it?” he asked, curious on if he did good or not with this surprise date he's been wanting to do for you for awhile now. You turned your head, your eyes making eye contact now. “It's beautiful. I love it, sungie, thank you.” You smiled at him, making him do the same.

“Y/n?” “Yes?” Han came to a stop, as so did you right after him with your hands intertwined still. “I really, love you.” You felt your heart stop for a moment as butterflies started exploding within your stomach as you've been caught off guard.

“I really love you too, Jisung. So much.” You responded nonetheless.

Han pulls you in closer, his hand cupping the back of your neck gently while his other hand on your waist, his thumb lovingly rubbing that area in a soothing gesture. The closer your lips got, the more you melted under his touch and relaxed, feeling his warmth radiate off onto you.

Your lips finally meet his as they softly and slowly mold together. No rushing, just enjoying the moment and each others affection. Savoring every last moment kissing Han, being with him and alone, together. You couldn't ask for anything else in this world.

˖⏝ׄ⏝˖⏝ׄ⏝‌୨‌୧⏝ׄ⏝˖⏝ׄ⏝˖

74 notes · View notes

hirokari · 8 months

Text

aestival, c.xs

pairing :: cheng xiaoshi x gender neutral!reader

word count :: 18.7k

genre :: high school!au, senior!au, popular boy!xiaoshi, lovesick!xiaoshi, mutual pining from the start (like he's absolutely smitten for you i swear)

warnings :: explicit language, mentions of wounds, mentions of medical supplies (band aid, antibiotic), eating food truck food

author's note :: i got this fic idea in class and just . threw up words HAHA anyways i love cheng xiaoshi our bbg pls enjoy pure mutual pining!!

masterlist. navigation.

i. meet.

Cheng Xiaoshi's backpack is severely under-packed for senior year. It even seems deflated to Lu Guang as they walk into the school campus.

"I'm surprised you weren't held back a year." Says the younger boy, though his tone does not hold any hint of jest. Nevertheless, Xiaoshi laughs at the comment.

There's a small jump in each of his steps. Breathing in, Xiaoshi looks around and takes note of how… different it seems this year.

The grass is greener, the sky is clearer, the students are chattier. As the sun shines its warm rays against the skin of his arms and cheeks, he beams.

"Y'know, I have a hunch."

"Shoot me." Replies Lu Guang, his face already resembling one of amusement. Whatever Xiaoshi has to say always humors him. "I've got a feeling senior year has something in store for me." Hums the boy, shaking a hand through his raven locks. His friend, in return, deadpans.

"What makes you think that?" Of course: the standard logical Lu Guang response.

Xiaoshi smiles, "I've got a funny feeling in my bones."

"A funny feeling?" Lu Guang repeats in a laugh. "You're basing a statement for the year off of your funny bones?"

Xiaoshi's mouth hangs open as he's about to retort back with something that would not help his case at all— but a grunt escapes his lips instead as something comes crashing against his abdomen.

"Shit- sorry!"

In front of him is a scrambling student, apologizing profusely. He freezes.

As you gather yourself and apologize to the boy, he leans down and grasps the spine of your chem textbook, lifting and handling it towards your direction.

"Oh, thank you. Sorry, again," You sigh, taking the thick textbook from him. The tip of your finger grazes his and Xiaoshi's sense of time stops. He takes a good look at you within a split second– the warm sun and cold morning air hitting your cheeks makes you look absolutely ethereal.

Cheng Xiaoshi had gone to this school for the past 6 years of his life– but not once had he met anyone that looked as pretty as you do right in this moment. You send him a small, tight-lipped smile that seems grateful and still a little apologetic. Your chin scrunches and your cheeks puff out when you do, and he likes the sight of it.

The whole ordeal happened quick. Too quick. You stand up and pat off the material of your uniform, adjusting your hold on your textbook. Xiaoshi stares. After noticing you shift and tilt your head at the gawking boy, Lu Guang nudges and pushes against his friend’s elbow, sending you a quick ‘goodbye’ and dragging Xiaoshi away.

Xiaoshi doesn’t want to leave. In fact, he refuses to. But what’s the use, you had already left, the only remnants of you being your warm floral scent in the summer morning breeze. He breathes deeply, feet planted firm on the ground and feeling a little strange when his nose tingles at your smell.

“That was the most beautiful, pretty, breathtaking person I’ve ever spoken to.” He sighs. “You’re acting like you’ve never spoken to a human before in your life, Xiaoshi,” Comments Lu Guang as he starts treading away.

“I haven’t spoken to a human that looks as if the sun and the moon shared a hug and a million stars danced with each other and everything in the milky way was perfect and not one person on earth had lactose intolerance!”

“What the hell are you even saying? Are you okay?” Lu Guang is starting to grow genuinely worried. The last time he’d seen Xiaoshi act like this was when he had a full-on obsession over Angelina Jolie for a solid 3 hours.

Xiaoshi feverishly shakes his head, cheeks flamed.“No! Do you know who that was?”

“No.”

“That makes things worse,” Groans Xiaoshi into the palm of his hands. He can feel how hot his skin had turned just remembering how pretty you looked.

“What if I never see them ever again? Do you know how bad I potentially just fumbled the bag here?”

“You’re saying that as if they’d like you back.” Lu Guang can’t help but let his eyes roll. Xiaoshi cries something along the lines of ‘harsh, much?’ and proceeds to whine about having just let you walk away as he stumbles his way to class, Lu Guang directioning him the whole way for the most part.

Cheng Xiaoshi, though he doesn’t seem it, is a hopeless romantic. As his feet drag against the tiled floor almost automatically, Xiaoshi wonders if whoever you were could have been more to him. He’d let fate decide: An acquaintance, a friend, an enemy, a lover. Maybe all of those in that order. Maybe you could be, somewhere in the future.

But he doesn’t really like the idea of waiting for fate. Not when he’s so eager to run into you again– why hadn’t he met you earlier? In sophomore or junior year? Had the universe intended to keep you cooped up away from him until you swept and escaped from its grasp to get back to him?

He knows he’s getting ahead of himself. Nonetheless, he hopes you bump into him again, maybe holding an extra book or two so he could retrieve them for you. Or maybe, if the universe was kind enough to him for a second time (the first was meeting you.), he’d bump into you.

The soccer field is on a large strangely elevated patch of grass. Xiaoshi doesn’t like the extra flight of stairs he has to travel up on in order to enter it. It was originally a large hill, he heard from Lu Guang, but the school thought it’d be of better use if it were a soccer field.

The summer sun is blaring too hot, the boy thinks, as he wipes his sweat off of his brow.

“I’m open!” Yells Xiaoshi, waving his arms.

Far too much movement out in the open sun.

The senior feels sticky and his feet feel like jelly. He doesn’t know how long he’d been playing at this point. Frankly, Xiaoshi doesn’t know why he’d called out for the ball. Instinctual, he supposes.

The ball comes flying at him, and being the basketball-loving goof he is, reaches out to grab it with his hands. Within the last split second, and Lu Guang shouting at him to take it to the chest instead, he forces his arms down, taking the impact to his face instead.

Xiaoshi is wordless as he grasps at his face, feeling extremely dazed.

“Shoot, sorry! Are you good, man?” Shouts a fellow player, though it sounds warped in his ears.

As he waves the concerned murmurs off, he lets his feet lead him to the bleachers, calling for a quick break. It is too damn hot out today, he thinks, heaving at the thick warm afternoon air. Xiaoshi still holds his palm to his face, shielding his eyes from the bright sun that seemed to burn.

Reaching out, Xiaoshi expects to feel the cold metal of the railings that stand in front of the bleachers, but is met with nothing but the air his fingers cut through as he sweeps his hand around. “Wh-?”

Uncovering his eyes, his feet travel forward before he could process where he’d been walking into.

The yelp Xiaoshi lets out embarrasses him and he blushes a little, though none of that really mattered anymore when he realizes he’s tumbling down the other side of the hill, stray twigs and leaves pricking him as he rolls down the grass. He doesn’t let out one noise, the whole situation happening too quick for him to react properly to.

Before he realized it, he’d stopped rolling. Probably for a good few seconds already, but his head needed time to stop swaying.

“Ugh,” Groans Xiaoshi, gripping his hair as his vision seems to keep spinning.

It takes him a solid moment to fully absorb what had happened and where he is. He first looks at the grass around him. Unlike the field he’d just been playing in, these were shaded by tall canopies of trees– the ones on the opposite side of the field, facing the bleachers from at least 100 meters away.

The second thing he notices are the pair of crossed legs in front of his, tensed and pressed up against a chest. Xiaoshi makes an effort to tilt his head up— as much as it made him nauseous— and face the owner of said pair of legs.

There you sit, your book discarded and arms length to the side, eyes blown wide as you scrutinize the boy. “Are you- are you okay?”

Xiaoshi’s mouth hangs open dangerously wide as he meets eyes with you. His skin burns– and he can’t tell if its from

spending so much time in the sun and overheating, or because you just witnessed what might be the most embarrassing moment of his life.

“I’m… fine.” Is all he’s able to say. A little bit of everywhere stings. His elbows, his knees, his head especially. But it’s alright because Xiaoshi thinks you look absolutely ethereal with bits and patches of sunlight peeking through the leaves of the trees standing above you two, as if shielding you both from the reality of the world. The sunrays frame your face in a kind and soft way, lighting up your nose and cheeks when you lean over to check up on him.

Xiaoshi admires you (almost shamelessly) but you can’t care to notice because you’re busy fussing about him.

“You’re- bleeding! You need help!”

“It’s fine,” Scoffs Xiaoshi. “It’s barely anything.”

But as you carefully fish a handkerchief out of your pocket (of course you’d have one, thinks Xiaoshi, it’s also bear-patterned!) and slowly press it against his shin, the boy winces, flinching his leg away with a whine as his hand instinctively flies up to grip at your wrist.

“I’m sorry,” You apologize. “Could you hold that for me there? I promise it’ll just be a moment.” Your fingers grace over his knuckles as you instruct him, and Xiaoshi doesn’t even think once about protesting, immediately following and holding the cloth in place.

He can feel the pads of your fingers linger for a little longer, and although he’s already overheated from the hot summer sun, your fingers radiate a different kind of warmth– a friendly, homely warmth that reminds him of all his favorite things. A kind of warmth that feels like a ladybug crawling across his arm, but he lets it be for the good luck.

“I’ve got an antibiotic in here somewhere,” Rummaging through your bag, you briefly look up to send the boy an assuring and calm smile. His chest thumps violently. Your sheer persistence to help out someone you’d only talked to once— though Xiaoshi doubts you even remember that encounter— moves him.

As you search, the raven-haired boy lets his free hand travel down the grass he sits on, relishing in the chill contrast of it compared to the blazing hot field. He picks at a weed, then a daisy that grows right by his thigh, and threads them together, creating a braid long enough to circle around his pinky finger. He binds them together with a knot and slips it onto his pinky finger, a small, boyish ingenuous grin spreading across his lips.

“Here,” Tenderly lifting his fingers, Xiaoshi lets you pry his hand off his leg, watching as you dab a small amount of antibiotic cream on the cloth.

“Could you press this in place again? I have to find you a bandaid,”

“Yeah, of course,”

Dazed, Xiaoshi doesn’t react at the first contact the rag makes with his wound. And a moment later, after having enough of his fill of watching you, he returns to wincing, wearing a sour grimace on his face as he refuses to take the cloth off just because you ordered him not to.

“Here.” Taking Xiaoshi’s free hand, you place the bandaid into his palm and take hold of your handkerchief again. With an open palm, the boy looks at it, the corner of his lip twitching upwards at its animal pattern.

“Thank you,” Says Xiaoshi in a small voice. You nod, “It’s alright, I’m just glad you’re fine. Although,” Pausing, you lean forward, face nearing his as you press the back of your hand against his cheek. He inhales sharply, eyes widening at the feeling of your soft fingers against the skin of his face.

“You’re burning up.” You conclude. “You did put on sunscreen before playing, right?”

Xiaoshi’s silence answers your question, but the guilty glance towards the field tells you more than you need to know.

You shake your head, “Wear a hat next time; that’s the least thing you could do. Sunburns are no pretty thing.” You pause, tilting your head to the side with a teasing look in your eyes. “But red’s a good shade on you.”

It’s until now when Xiaoshi realizes how close you’d been, his breath hitting the peach fuzz on your face. “Shut up,” He groans, pushing at your shoulder. Letting out a quick chuckle, you let him push you back into your original position and watch as he applies the band aid across his wound.

“You’re… the guy I bumped into a few weeks ago, aren’t you?”

Oh. He hadn’t expected you to remember that, considering how fast the whole thing had happened.

“Yeah,” Replies Xiaoshi with a nod. “I forgot to ask… for your name,” He says, fidgeting and looking to the side, discovering a shy part of him he hadn’t known existed.

“It’s Y/N L/N.”

“Y/N L/N,” He repeats. It rolls off his tongue nicely, he thinks, and he wants to say it again. “I’m Xiaoshi. Cheng Xiaoshi.”

“Cheng Xiaoshi.” You say, repeating his name like he did yours. You say it again under your breath and at the sound of it, he thinks everything is right and beautiful in the world.

“We’ve got to go,” You mention, checking the time on your phone as you stuff your bag with your belongings you’d taken out. “We’ve got seven minutes ‘till class.”

Xiaoshi watches as you rush to your feet, patting against your legs and uniform. You offer to help him up, but he shakes his head politely, picking up the novel you’d been reading and wiping off the little dirt that had gotten on the cover with his slender fingers.

“Will I see you again?” Asks Xiaoshi, though he hadn’t thought before he let the question slip past his lips. You look back at him, offering a smile, “I’m not sure… but we’ll see, I guess. Bye, Cheng Xiaoshi.”

“Bye, Y/N L/N.”

His cheeks burn, this time not because of a near-sunburn he’d gotten playing soccer in nothing but his uniform.

ii. cheng xiaoshi!

You hadn’t realized you’d lost your book until after arriving home from school a few days ago. Now here you are, sitting next to your upperclassman and lab partner, Qiao Ling, legs leaning against the bleacher in front of you. Even under the shades of the thin metal ceiling the bleachers came with, you felt like you were being boiled alive.

The two of you watch a mix of seniors and juniors play a friendly match of soccer, and you can’t help but wonder where Xiaoshi had been since the last time you’d seen him.

After him stumbling into you— almost literally— you hadn’t seen him all week. Not like he’d been looking for you either.

Fun fact: he actually was.

Xiaoshi sits in the spot he’d last met you in, fingers grazing across the title etched onto the hardcover of your novel that you’d forgotten with him. Wearing a small pout, the boy heaves a childish sigh, letting his back fall onto the fresh grass under him, admiring the canopies towering over him.

It’s definitely a peaceful and sound place, but there was a sense of beauty knowing it was exclusively yours. He can see remnants of you everywhere: a dented patch of grass that he imagines happened because you’d sat there every time, several traces of plucked weeds and flowers, your initials you’d scratched onto a tree because you’d been bored one day.

Xiaoshi’s fingers travel up to the rough, textured bark that spelled out your initials, inhaling its earthy scent of oak. He imagines you, with a pen or a pocket knife, etching the letters onto the dark and dull bark with the same concentrated look you’d worn a few days ago.

His phone suddenly vibrates in the pocket of his uniform. Still staring at the engraved letters, Xiaoshi takes his device out and unlocks it, finally turning to his screen.

Lu Guang

| Where are you?

| Sociology starts in 10 minutes.

Cheng Xiaoshi

| im omw

Standing by himself in the deserted hall in front of the library, Lu Guang scoffs to himself, knowing very well his friend is not in fact on his way.

Lu Guang

| Please hurry

| Those popular douchebags are here and I can’t stand putting up with your nonsense, let alone theirs.

Cheng Xiaoshi

| those “douchebags” are my friends, Guang :l

Lu Guang doesn’t respond, having gone offline, and Xiaoshi takes that as his cue to get to class.

He hadn’t realized it, but when he looks down, he can make out the faint trail you’d made with your frequenting visits here, a beeline of thinning grass and hardening soil leading him towards the campus. It seemed like a little portal between the calm of the forest and the bustle of high school.

Finally, Xiaoshi arrives at the bottom of the hill, staring up at the flight of stairs leading into the bleachers. The air feels extremely more humid from where he stands, letting the sun hit his skin (but he’d worn sunscreen this morning, just because you’d told him too, of course.)

The first step up feels somewhat like a struggle. A feeling like something in between refusing and complaining. But he’s just being dramatic, really. Xiaoshi walks up the rest of the stairs like it was nothing.

Finally on the top of the stairs and shielded from the sun under the ceiling of the bleachers, Cheng Xiaoshi feels like his stomach tightens at the sight of you talking with Qiao Ling and lets his mouth hang open, eyes wide like buttons.

“Y/N L/N!”

Your shoulders shrug up at the sudden yell of your name, and it seems like everyone has stopped talking, just as startled. Turning around, your eyes widen when they meet with Xiaoshi’s, your mouth parting slightly, though you’re not sure what to say.

“Cheng… Xiaoshi?”

Qiao Ling, who hadn’t bothered to look (because things like this had happened too often to her, though she should’ve known it was Xiaoshi), whips her head towards his direction, ridiculed.

There’s a moment when you both look at each other and everyone else goes back to minding their own business. Xiaoshi’s cheeks are dusted pink from both the walk in the sun and meeting you here coincidentally. He holds your book up, his fingers wrapped around the spine of it, giving you a grin.

Charming, you think. His smile is charming. And teethy.

“I’ve… got your book.” He says. Brows raising, you let out an exasperated breath. That was, in fact, the book you’d been searching for during the past few days. “Oh,” You can’t resist the small smile growing across your lips as he offers it to you. You take it with nimble fingers, brushing against the cover, then looking up at him. “Thank you.”

What followed was another moment of silence.

Was this going to be a usual thing between you two?

“Hold on, you know him?” Qiao Ling, who had been ogling at your interaction the whole time speechless, plants a hand on your shoulder, completely disregarding the enthusiastic “yeah!” Xiaoshi replies with.

“Yeah, met him on our first day this year. I bumped into him, actually…” Although the whole ordeal has passed, you still wear a shameful smile. Qiao Ling narrows her eyes at Xiaoshi, “Oh you’re the golden boy they talked about?”

“Golden boy? Talked about?”

“Um,” You hiss before he could question any more, giving Qiao Ling an embarrassed and pointed look. A realization settles into her and she apologizes quietly, though she seems more teasing than anything. “Class is like, pretty soon, is it not?” You chuckle nervously, two fingers fiddling and pinching the cover of your book.

“Right, yeah, I was on my way to sociology.” Says Xiaoshi, though it seems like he’d just remember himself. “Oh, I’ve got advanced math— which is like, right down the hall to your class.”

“I can walk you there!”

“That’d be cool, yeah,”

Qiao Ling wants to interject. Remind you two of her presence. But she’s completely dumbfounded at the fact that she knows very well that if she did, neither of you would acknowledge it, too lost in the small talk and shared glances.

“Right, well, while you two do that, I’ll be here, I guess.”

“You’re not going to class?” You ask. “Nope.” Her ‘P’ pops against her lips as she leans back against the bleacher. “I’ve got a free period. Pros of being a future valedictorian, eh?”

“Shouldn’t you be using that time to study?”

“Oh, you’re one to talk, Xiaoshi. Go, shoo, before you’re late. As far as I know, Mr. Lee doesn’t like tardiness.”

“Shit, that’s my class.” Groans Xiaoshi, wiping a hand against his sweaty face. “Let’s go, Y/N L/N.” As you tread after him and wave goodbye to QIao Ling, you can’t help but laugh at the boy. “You could just call me Y/N.”

“But I like saying Y/N L/N. It rolls off nice on the tongue.”

“So does Cheng Xiaoshi.”

Shit. Is this flirting? Is Cheng Xiaoshi really flirting with the prettiest person he’s ever met? Xiaoshi seems to sweat even more, despite already entering the air-conditioned campus building. Your finger brushes against his lightly while you walk next to him, but he doesn’t think you noticed. You’re still complaining about taking advanced math with Mrs. Wang.

“I don’t get it,” Xiaoshi interjects. “Why did you pick it in the first place?” Your cheeks dust red. “Er, well,” You sigh. “I thought I’d look smart if I took the class. Turns out absolutely none of her students understand the material and we’re all left to fend for ourselves with youtube tutors and a really, really thick textbook that amounts to nothing but yet another droning lecturer.”

“Isn’t Lu Guang taking that class?”

“Lu Guang?” You hum, tilting your head. “Your friend?” Xiaoshi nods, “Yeah, the one with the white hair. People absolutely fawn over him.”

“He’s taking the class on Wednesday, then, I’m assuming.” You shrug. The both of you turned the corner and there Xiaoshi’s class was. The big metal door stands heavily in all its glory, declaring itself an entrance and separation from you. You look beyond the hallway, and spot the familiar graffitied door of Mr. Huang’s class (so many students had failed his class that they’d graffiti on his door in a feat of protest. The old man never minded it, though, it just reminded him more of his streak in paining high school kids).

“I’ll see you later,” You pause, looking up at him. “Cheng Xiaoshi.”

“You too,” He smiles. “Y/N L/N.”

The next time Xiaoshi sees you, you’re typing away at your laptop on a lunch table out in the courtyard, shaded by a generously thick tree. You’re completely neglecting your food, absolutely focused on your task at hand.

“Ahoy there, Y/N L/N.”

Cheng Xiaoshi greeting you boldly and loudly out of the blue does not faze you anymore. Not when he’s been doing it for weeks on end. Sipping on your soda with a straw stuck into the can, you swallow with a fresh sigh.

“Hello, Cheng Xiaoshi.”

“What’re you writing there?” Asks the boy as he plops down next to you, comfortably keeping a knee pressed against his chest as he plants his lunch next to yours. “It’s my English report. I planned on pulling an all-nighter last night, but,” You sigh, having been cut off when Xiaoshi offers half of his sandwich to you. You eye it, then lean down to smell it with a heavy whiff.

“You think I’d poison you, Y/N? And here I thought we were friends!” Xiaoshi mimics an arrow shooting straight through his chest, leaning against the table and dramatically hanging his head as if he’d just lost consciousness.

You laugh.

God, your laugh, Xiaoshi could live off of it alone. Your cheeks when you smile, the teeth you bare to him when you chuckle. He wishes to see it everyday.

“You called me Y/N. Like, Y/N only, Y/N.”

“Yeah, yeah, I guess you came around. Anyways, eat up.” Xiaoshi taps the bread of his sandwich against your mouth and you roll your eyes, taking a bite and wiping the crumbs off the corner of your lips.

“Thanksh.” You murmur through a mouthful. You push your lunch towards him. “I made fried rishe. Pleash try it out fohr me.”

Xiaoshi’s lip quips up at your strange, mouthful accent. “Of courshe.” He says obnoxiously at you, laughing when you push his cheek away with your hand. Picking up the stainless steel spoon you’d packed, Xiaoshi eats a spoonful of your cooking, smacking his lips as he chews obnoxiously.

You’re very aware he’s trying to cheer you up. You can’t imagine how grumpy you looked typing and frowning when he approached you.

“Well?” You say, finally swallowing down the little bit of his sandwich you’d eaten. “Is it any good?”

“Is it any good?” Repeats Xiaoshi. “Do fish live in the sea?”

“No,” You spit playfully, hands hovering back over your laptop keyboard. But before you could start working again, Xiaoshi smacks your hands and you gasp, looking at him wide-eyed as he closes your laptop shut.

“You did not just do that.” You hiss. Xiaoshi sticks a tongue out at you. “I just did. Anyways, give your little laptop a break would you? And yourself, too, of course.”

You suppose he’s right. A part of you appreciates Xiaoshi a little more (if that were possible) now as he munches on food, and another part wants to smack him in the face when you realize it’s your food he’s munching on.

“Cheng Xiaoshi! You just ate, like, half of my lunch, you goof!”

“It’s your fault you cooked it so good, Y/N L/N.”

You take Xiaoshi’s ham sandwich sourly, wanting to get back at him as you take a big bite right in front of his face. And although you think he’s as upset as you are for eating his lunch, Xiaoshi’s chest warms at the sight of you eating the rest of his lunch, and when he offers yours back, you snatch it and devour it quickly. His smile grows each spoonful of food you eat.

“Hey,” He says, leaning his head against his fist as he watches you eat. You hum in response through full cheeks. “I’m gonna buy a milkshake. Want one?”

You mouth something along the lines of Hannah montana and a strangely structured word.

“...what?”

You roll your eyes at him, swallowing and finally telling him: “banana, please.” Xiaoshi’s mouth forms an ‘o’ and he nods at you. “Don’t you mean ‘banana, pleash’?”

“I hate you. Like genuinely. Like I’m going to be friends with Lu Guang now instead.” You huff, and he juts his bottom lip out at you.

The milkshake stand in the small nook of the canteen is run by two freshman girls. You and Xiaoshi are in fact their first and top customers… and their only customers during this season. Xiaoshi offers them both a wide smile and orders one strawberry and one banana. As one scurries off to whip up their orders, Jia, the younger of the two, leans against the counter of their property (they have a cooking and selling permit from the principal herself until lunch hour ends) with a suggestive smile.

“So? How’s Y/N? How’re your kids?”

“Holy shit,” Groans Xiaoshi. This was the only reason he hadn’t asked for you to come along. Both Jia and Yanyu know about the senior’s harboring feelings for you. They also know about your harboring feelings for him.

You both had admitted to your feelings to them individually, unable to decipher their devious, knowing smile.

“Language!” Yells Yanyu over the blender. “Sorry,” Replies Xiaoshi, monotone. “But really, I don’t want to talk about it, Jia.”

“Uh oh. Trouble in paradise?” Says Jia, crossing her arms, her braided hair shifting against her shoulder. The boy scoffs, “Stop acting like we’re married.”

“You two may as well be. Quick, tell me, my therapist hours are open.”

Xiaoshi can’t believe he’s about to spill his heart’s heavy doubts to a 14 year old.

“They’re… not interested.” He sighs. Jia, wide-eyed, leans closer. “They told you that?”

“Well, no.” She deadpans. “You can’t just assume they aren’t. Communication. Is. Key.” She says, clapping her hands to corresponding syllables she speaks. Xiaoshi shrugs, “I’ve been trying to drop hints, but they’ve either been ignoring it or they’re really, really, blind.”

“It’s the latter.” Says Yanyu as she hands him his drinks. They both know too much about how you both can be ridiculously blind to dropped hints. She grimaces at the thought of you both prancing and dancing around a bush, Xiaoshi’s pathetic attempts to earn your heart when he doesn’t know it’s in his hands. “Definitely the latter.”

“Well, I just bought them a banana smoothie. Think that’ll be eye-opening enough?”

“Are you crazy?” Groans Jia, pinching the bridge of her nose. “You do that for each other all the time! Do something nice out of the blue or norm, like…”

“Tell ‘em you think they look pretty today!” Interjects Yanyu. Xiaoshi tilts his head, “But I think they look pretty everyday?”

Aw. Yanyu and Jia share a knowing look. “Well, do you tell them?”

“No, I guess not…” He hums. “Then this is your chance! Flatter them. Everyone loves that. Tell them you love their eyes, their lips, their hair– the way they part their hair.” Jia pauses, smiling cheekily as she watches his cheeks heat up. “In fact, tell them you love all their parts.”

“I can’t say that!”

“Sure, you can!” Sings Yanyu, planting her hands against his shoulders and directing him towards the table you sit in.

In the distance, the three of them can spot you, having finished both yours and Xiaoshi’s lunch. You write down in your notebook, scribbling almost aggressively, but he still thinks you look heavenly.

“Well, see ya, lover boy!” Jia pushes against his back lightly, nudging him as he takes a step forward. “And tell Y/N we said hi! And that we miss them!”

Yanyu tells him a few encouraging words but he can’t process them when he’s trying to figure out how to tell you how damn pretty he thinks you look everyday. The condensation of both your cold smoothies mix with the sweat of his palms– either from the humidity or just the thought of you– and he sits down next to you, eyes trained on you.

“Thanks, Xiaoshi,” You say, accepting the banana smoothie he’d handed to you subconsciously. But quicker than he’d wanted, you notice his intense gaze and gulp thickly.

“Is there… anything on my face?” You ask, wiping the back of your hand against your cheek self-consciously.

“Yeah,” Says Xiaoshi slowly. “Pretty… ness.”

What. Was that. So much for golden boy.

You give him a questioning look, taking a sip of the smoothie he’d just bought you. “Are you okay? Are you having a heat stroke? I told you to put on some sunscreen.”

“You look really pretty today.” Xiaoshi finally says in a blunt tone. “Oh,” You mumble, surprised. “Thanks.”

You hope you sound calm, because you definitely aren’t. Cheng Xiaoshi had just gone to buy you a smoothie and came back to tell you that you’re pretty. Totally not something the universe had personally hand-picked out of your delusional brain filled with fantasies.

“I think you look pretty, too.” You say in a small, breathy and shaky voice. “Thank you,” Replies Xiaoshi with a small smile.

“Wanna try some of my milkshake? You haven’t tried the strawberry one, right?”

“Oh, sure. Thanks.”

“Also, Jia and Yanyu miss you.”

Xiaoshi thinks this is a mission success. Your cheeks red from the sun (and from Xiaoshi complimenting you, but he denies that) as you try his smoothie, and he takes a sip of your banana flavored one. He told you he thought you looked pretty and you think he’s pretty too; definitely mission success.

You don't expect Xiaoshi to coincidentally have the same free period as you– let alone have him sit with you in the library as you highlight keywords and statements in your textbook.

"It's so weird that we've got the same free period," You mumble with half the effort, focused on skimming through your material. Xiaoshi lets out a 'pshh' sound with his breath: "Nah. I skipped class."

"You skipped class?" You repeat, dropping your book and highlighter as you furrow your brows at him. Though a little surprised at your reaction, the boy nods slowly. “No, one does not just ‘skip class’.” You cough. “You’ve gotta go through the paperwork and give the teacher a dismissal note for whatever reason you made up. And then have your classmates make an alibi for you as you’re out.”

“...or you could just walk out the door and never return.”

“No, Cheng Xiaoshi, you can’t just do that.” You laugh, though it's the kind of laugh where you’re in disbelief and somewhat in denial. “Holy shit.” Says Xiaoshi, leaning closer with a teasing smile. “You, Y/N L/N, have never skipped a class.”

“I have!” You say a little too loud for your liking, earning looks from the students at the table next over. Mumbling a small sorry, you clasp your hands together in a makeshift apology before rummaging your head into your open textbook.

“I have never skipped a class.” You admit, sullen.

Xiaoshi can’t help but chuckle lightly at your current state, and he can’t help but laugh even more when you look up at him with a frown. “You’re really laughing at me right now!? I’m never going to live a fun and rebellious high school life and you’re laughing at me!”

“I-I’m not,” Xiaoshi pauses to collect himself. He eases his chuckles as he pats on his chest with his hand, which makes you more upset at him. “Alright, I’m sorry. It’s all the more better that you’ve never skipped a class, really. There’s no hype to it or anything like that.”

“I don’t know,” You huff, watching your breath turn over a page of your textbook. “I don’t really want to graduate high school knowing I’ve never skipped a class. It’s unfulfilling, or something like that.” Your expression turns sour. “Winning perfect absence sounds cool, though,”

“You wanna win that?” Asks Xiaoshi, leaning down and pressing his cheek to the cold hardwood of the table, facing you. You look at him, at his squished cheek and his intent gaze. Something in you whirrs– tingles.

“...no.”

Xiaoshi laughs. “It’s not too late, you know. You’ve still got, like, a semester to go.”

You whine, squeezing your eyes shut as you groan and let your forehead hit the cover of your textbook. “It’s too late, Xiaoshi, I’m already too deep in. I’m going to receive that award with some half-assed smile and so many regrets. Imagine how many bobas I could have had if I did have the strength to skip a class. Or fried rice. Or food truck burritos! God, imagine how many burritos.”

“So many burritos.” Xiaoshi lets out a melancholic sigh, and it somewhat humors you and comforts you as you turn to face him. You meet eyes with him, both your faces pressed against the table and you give him a small laugh when he repeats more and more foods you could have enjoyed if you’d ever skipped a class.

If you ever could.

iii. 3.27 PM

The fact that Cheng Xiaoshi stands at the door frame of your math advanced class doesn’t surprise you. Neither is the fact that he’s looking at your teacher with a bitter look. Though, the fact that those two don’t surprise you is just a bit concerning. Just a bit.

“Hello,” You say, pushing at his chest as you both exit your classroom.

“You’re so right,” Says Xiaosh a little too loud for your comfort, pausing to take another good look at your professor over your shoulder. “She does look divorced.”

“Holy shit.” You cough when her head whips to the both of you. “Great, now my advanced math teacher hates me. How could I ever repay you?” You groan sarcastically, bumping your knee to his. “Actually!” Beams Xiaoshi. “There is. You were called to the office.”

“Me? Called to the office?” You repeat, suspicious. “Should Mrs. Wang kno-”

“Nuh-uh! They told me it was urgent. Involves the both of us, apparently.” Xiaoshi is quick– almost too quick, too eager– to cut you off, grabbing a hold of your wrist. The action alone makes the ends of your fingers tingle and your chest to swell, and you hope Xiaoshi can’t tell your elevating heartbeat from the beating spot of skin in your wrist.

“Did you just say nuh-uh?” You say in a small snicker, letting him drag you down the hall and several flights of stairs. “Shut up.” Laughs Xiaoshi, his stomach caving in at the sound of your enjoyment.

Though Xiaoshi mentioned the office, for some ridiculous reason, you both end up walking up to the front gates, still hand in hand. You look back, the earthy scent of autumn enveloping you as you stare at the old, wet campus building.

“Why are you taking me outside.” You ask, though it sounds more like a demand. Xiaoshi’s mouth opens, but nothing comes out. He pauses for a moment, looks back at you, then looks back at the front gates you’d just walked out of, and then turns back around.

“I’ll tell you in a minute.”

Something in you wonders why you’re letting him drag you away from the school grounds, and to the opposite direction of where you’re supposed to be right now. But the answer is clearly obvious:

You have the biggest fattest crush on this boy.

You’re not sure when it happened, but it happened, alright. You’d realized when you were talking to him as he took a break from playing basketball, and when he’d confessed that he hadn’t put sunscreen on, you immediately whipped yours out and applied it to his skin yourself. As your fingers traveled and graced across the milky, plush skin of his face, you found yourself fawning over how he just sat there, eyes shut closed, and let you.

In the end, he retreated back to his teammates with a childish smile, with his cap on your head.

“In return for the facial!”

“It was sunscreen.”

But as you clutched the hat to your chest where your heart bloomed, you realized how much he’d grown on you.

“Okay.” Says Xiaoshi, letting your hand go to adjust his jean jacket, then the thick sweater layered under it. It’s until now when you realize you’re severely underdressed for this rainy weather, but with clutched and crossed arms, you let him speak.

“Congratulations Y/N L/N! You’ve just skipped your first class!”

What. The fuck. You can’t help but think. Wordless, you stare at him blankly, waiting for a punchline or a big reveal that this had been a silly prank. But as Xiaoshi pats both your shoulders and puffs his chest out as he tells you how proud of you he is, you grimace.

“There’s no fucking way I just fell for that.” Your hand travels up to clutch the side of your face. “You just dragged me out of class! Just like that!”

“I did!” Cheers Xiaoshi. He’s too cute to be mad at, really, but you just can’t believe he did that. “Xiaoshi! This is not something to be happy about!” You declare, though you’re trying to hold back a laugh when your best friend starts wiggling his arms and shaking his hips in what you think is a celebratory dance.

“In legal terms, you just kidnapped me. You’ve kidnapped me, Cheng Xiaoshi.” You say in a dramatic voice, flailing your arms at him. “Do you realize I left my jacket in class? I’m so underdressed for this.”

Xiaoshi takes a good look at you. Scans you up and down. Then frantic, he gingerly throws his jean jacket off and ties it around his waist, rushing to escape the warm binds of his sweater. The bottom hem of his uniform lifts as he tries to get his sweater off and you pull on it, laughing when you hear a muffled thanks through his multiple layers of clothes.

Finally, he’s rid of his green sweater— it's the type of green you like, and he very well knows that— and hands it to you with a toothy grin.

Like a puppy… You think when he seems to shake like a wagging tail.

“Thank you.” Is the only thing you can say as you accept the sweater. As you bow to put it on, you’re completely engulfed in his scent. He smells warm and earthy. Like fresh blades of grass after a light rain. He smells like the sun shines– not too hot, but warm enough for a good rest under the rays of light.

There’s a hint of AXE body spray, too. A very subtle hint of it.

The feeling of personally wearing a sweater that belongs to Cheng Xiaoshi is frankly… surreal to you. The sleeves are too long for you and you bunch the extra bit of it up until it reaches the palm of your hands, breathing into them for extra warmth.

Though he’s not wearing a jacket, Xiaoshi thinks seeing you in his sweater is enough to heat him up. There’s a shiver that descends from the top of his head down his spine and he thinks he likes it– or maybe it's the cold finally getting to him.

As he throws his jean jacket back on, Xiaoshi bumps his hip into yours, “Where do you want to go now, you class-skipping menace?”

You take no time to ponder:

“We’re going to have burritos. All the burritos.”

“So many burritos.”

It’s odd how warm you suddenly feel as soon as you take the first bite into your burrito. Maybe because it’s freshly made because they just opened, maybe it’s because Xiaoshi insisted on paying for it when you realized you left your wallet in class.

You frankly left everything in there, save for yourself and your phone.

Xiaoshi hums when he finally gets a taste of his burrito, wiping at the sauce that spilled on the corner of his lips with the back of his hand. After swallowing your bite, you nod at him with a knowing, smug smirk.

“Good, huh?”

The boy nods eagerly in response, which humors you a little. You pull the thick sleeves of Xiaoshi’s sweater up to your elbows so as to not get it dirty or spilled on, but it’s evident that you’re growing cold without the extra layer (and the pits of your elbows start to sweat a little too much). Xiaoshi, noticing the thoughtful gesture, assures you to keep your forearms covered with a full mouth.

“But I’m gonna get ‘em dirty!”

“It’sh foine!” He says through the several ingredients of his burrito (which consists of: a flour tortilla, beef, baked beans and several veggies).

“Are you shore?” You mimic him, pulling your sleeves down. Despite his eyes rolling at your antics, Xiaoshi sets his food down to help you with it, the warmth of his fingers alone radiating off of your skin that he begins to help cover.

Your stomach churns as you look down at the action. His gentle fingers help unbunch the material of his sweater and they wrap around your wrist for the second time today, his thumb rubbing across the bottom of your palm.

Chest wavering, your eyes cast up and they unexpectedly meet Xiaoshi’s (though he was staring at you the whole time). There’s a moment– he gives you a moment to make up something to say to him in return– but he’s really expecting a quiet, shy thank you and a full-blown confession. “Thanksh.” You say, cracking into a smile when he groans.

“You won’t let that live down?”

“You didn’t in the summer.”

Xiaoshi ignores your response with a pout, his hands fishing for his burrito and grabbing hold of it to take another dangerously obnoxious bite into it. Boy likes his beef and baked beans.

You watch him, watch as more and more crumbs build up onto his chin until he wipes it off with a napkin and shoots it at an absurdly small trash can that sits a few feet away from you two, laughing at him when it hits the rim and misses.

“I’m bored.” You mention out of the blue when you’re finished with your burrito, crumpling the thin paper you’d used to hold your burrito with and used tissues into a big ball, handing it to Xiaoshi when he asks to have another shot into the bin. He misses.

“How the hell am I on the basketball team,” he laughs. You freeze, fingers playing with the plastic fork you were given as you ask: “you’re in the basketball team?”

“Hell yeah, I am.” Answers Xiaoshi with pride. And then a realization hits you. You’ve known Cheng Xiaoshi for nearly half a year and you barely know anything about him aside from the fact that he’s a big (maybe the biggest) goofball and he’s purely a golden retriever.

“Let’s play 21 questions.”

“All of a sudden?” He hums, swiping his hair up away from his forehead. Your head spins a little at how charming the action alone had made him. “Mhm. I barely know anything about you, and I doubt you know me more than I know you. So,”

“What I’m getting here,” Xiaoshi pauses, his face leaning closer to yours as he plants his elbow against the table. He wears a boyish smile and it makes your head buzz. “You wanna get to know me better, huh?”

“Exactly.” You say in a whisper, the ends of your fingers tingling when his smile grows at your response alone.

“Alright, I’ll go first: what’s your shoe size?”

You can’t help but let out a loud chuckle, “You’re so weird!”

“21 questions are 21 questions! Answer me.” Defends Xiaoshi, though he’s laughing with you.

“Alright, I’m like a decent size 40.”

“Only? I’m like, 43. I win.”

You’re about to comment on the fact that Xiaoshi just considered comparing shoe sizes for competition, but you don’t think you want to when he tells you not to be sour in a coo, patting your arm. He teases you in a sweet way, and you know he means no ill intent.

“Opinion on pineapple on pizza?”

“I’m neutral.” You shrug. Nodding, Xiaoshi wears a contemplating look, “I, for one, am all for it. You can never go bad with sweet and savory. In my opinion,” He pauses to press a hand against his chest. “I think they make a great pair. Soulmates, even.”

“Oh, yeah?” You hum. “That’s an interesting way to think of it. Between the two of us, who would you think is the sweet and who’s the savory?”

Oh. Xiaoshi looks at you, a light in his eyes as he wonders. You think he’s pondering for the answer, but he’s already got that figured out. You were the sweet to his savory. What he really was wondering was: were you regarding him as your soulmate when you asked that? He can’t tell. You’d said it in such a naive, innocent, genuine tone that makes him fold.

“You,” He starts, tapping his heel against the pavement of the street floor. “are a sweet cutie patootie sugar booger honey bun-”

“Oh my god, shut up.” You laugh loudly, leaning over to lightly press your hand against the direct front of his face that he teases nearer you. “Your turn, savory.”

“It’s your turn, sweets. Don’t you know how taking turns works?” Jests Xiaoshi, his cheek still pressed against your outstretched hand. You shake your head, "I took it already– I just asked you which of us were sweet and savory– don't you know how questions work?"

“Very well,” He replies, removing his face from your taunting grasp. “Favorite Pringles flavor?”

“Sour cream and onion.”

“I thought you were sweet,”

You roll your eyes, ignoring his quip, “Go-to takeout?”

“Pizza. And boba. Favorite movie?”

“It has to be any of Wes Anderson’s movies. Oh wait! Ghibli, too,” You nod your head momentarily. “You?”

“Say Something for sure. A classic.” Answers Xiaoshi with his whole chest, nodding with a proud smile. You stay quiet, lips thinned and fingers retreating to play with the sleeve of his sweater. It takes the boy a moment to fully digest the look you wear: one of a little embarrassment and guilt.

“No.” He gasps. “You’ve never watched Say Something?” There’s a shock and what sounds to you a small bit of hurt (feigned, of course). Wordless, you answer with a shake of your head. He presses the back of his palm against his forehead, faking a faint as he falls back against his chair.

“You’ve wounded me, Y/N. Look at me, a dead man!” You scoff, nudging his knee with yours under the table, and it sends a little electricity through him. “Stop being so dramatic! You’ll get over it.”

“Anyways, what’s the daily agenda of the oh-so-popular golden boy, hm?” You ask. Xiaoshi, still slouched back into his chair, gives you a questioning look, “What do you mean?”

“I mean, you have a lot of friends. A lot of friends mean a lot of plans. A lot of basketball games, a lot of karaoke runs, a lot of parties. Am I right?”

The look the boy gives you says you’re absolutely wrong. He stays silent for a moment, spending his time to think as he watches your expression fall from a smile to one of a lost thought. “I don’t have a lot of friends, Y/N,” He admits. “I just know a lot of people. I don’t take anyone out to a food truck burrito run.”

Your stomach caves in at the way he regards you. Or rather, the fact that he emphasized the fact that he treated you differently.

“And I don’t party. Well- okay, I’ve been to a few, but it’s not my type of genre, you feel me?” Xiaoshi’s hands press together and he looks at you a certain way as if waiting for your verdict.

“Oh.” Is all you can say. You’re surprised. But something in you tells you that you shouldn’t be, because he’s literally eating burritos with you right now. Why on earth would he hang out with you if he had other friends to spend time with?

“You seem disappointed.” He deadpans. Immediately, you shake your hands and head at him, denying fervently. “No, no, no, not like that! It just seemed like you were a big party person.” You confess with a certain tone in your voice, one of slight remorse. “It’s… surprising you’d hang out with me, actually. But it’s nice of you to. I like spending time with you.”

You bloom a certain warmth in Xiaoshi’s chest. It swirls and spirals, accumulating enough to just burst out of his abdomen. He feels as if he’s about to float. All the fall cold that had been itching its way past his layers and onto his skin had just melted away merely by the heat he radiated after hearing you say that you’d enjoyed spending time with him. He feels like he could fly and fall at the same time, but he thinks he prefers falling if you’re there to catch him in the end.

Oh. This is bad. This is really, really bad. Here, in the cold hour of 3.27 PM, on a table that you’d just shared burritos with, the realization that Cheng Xiaoshi had fallen in love with you just hit him.

Though, it doesn’t really seem bad anymore. Falling in love in front of a food truck could be romantic, right? It doesn’t really matter to him. Not when his mouth parts, voice lumped and stuck in his throat as he attempts to tell you how sudden and how hard you’d just made him fall in love with you. He wants to tell you in the form of words; in the form of touch; in the form of mingling breaths and intertwined fingers; in the form of his palm pressed against the skin of your jaw, drawing you closer as his whispers fan the lobe of your ear.

But, no. All that comes out is a quiet, shaky:

“I like spending time with you. Too.”

You wear a smile. Then you give him a small, but bashful and shy laugh. He thinks he might die at the sight. Cheng Xiaoshi wants nothing in the world right now but to hold you in his arms– or be held in your arms. Either way, as long as his skin is pressed against yours, he’s all for it. He wants you to run your fingers through his hair, for his head to rest on the soft flesh of your thighs or arms or frankly any limb you’d be willing to offer to him because god your touch looks just too good to waste.

But he knows he can’t. Not now. Not when you’re telling him to ask you a question and when he does, it’s a dumb, shallow, vague one that you answer with heart and mind anyway because you care about this game. You care about getting to know him. That’s what makes you worth every bit of love this universe has to offer, he thinks.

“That’s enough,” You groan, staring into a street light– which you really shouldn’t, because it’s illuminating light shines and blinds directly into your eyes, and you groan everytime that happens.

“One more,” Pants Xiaoshi, picking up the round and faded basketball, dribbling it past the 3-point indicator line. He repositions himself, his knees bending just slightly as he adjusts his aim. With a jump, he stretches his arms out, the ball flying out of his hand and traveling right through the center of the ring.

Xiaoshi sings a little ‘whoop!’ as he jogs over to you.

You’re laid out on the court floor, bored out of your mind as you start staring straight at the streetlight just to feel a little entertained. You fiddle with the boy’s bottle in both your hands, and he lends down to pick it out of your hands, sounding a thank you, though you don’t respond.

Xiaoshi sits by your feet, tilting his head at your lack of response. “Sweets? You good?”

That damned nickname. Ever since he’d forced you to bail and went to get burritos with you, it was all he ever called you. Not like you’re complaining, but how could he frankly expect you to return a verbal, sane response after what’s practically a couple’s pet name?

But you do respond, of course, throwing a thumbs up his way as you nudge him with your shoe.

“You know,” Xiaoshi starts, setting his bottle down to lay down next to you. This doesn’t help your case at all, your body tingling when his hand brushes against yours during the action. “You can just go home. You don’t have to stay with me while I practice.”

“Nuh-uh,” You reply, shaking a finger at him. “I’m like, officially your number one fan. Who else would be your fanclub president if not me?”

“I’m just saying, a fan doesn’t spend hours with their idols. They always say: ‘never meet your idols.’” Xiaoshi shrugs, and you can feel his arm brushing up against your uniform. It makes you nervous. Nevertheless, you face him, stomach churning when he mimics you, your noses nearly touching at the close proximity.

“You’re not so bad to meet.”

Xiaoshi doesn’t think you know just how crazy you make him feel. His heart beats faster and more rapidly than when he was shooting hoops and doing drills. He lets a moment pass by, the air settling as he counts how many times he can feel your breath brush his chin.

“Neither are you.”

You smile. He can see your teeth a little. Your cheeks puff out and your lips stretch in a nice way that makes him want to kiss you until you can’t breathe.

But he can’t do that.

Not when you’re sitting up and patting his thigh and urging him to walk you home. Not when you hand him his bottle and brush the dirt off his sweater that you still haven’t returned (but he doesn’t mind because it just means in the ultimate time you do, it’ll smell like you). Not when he carries both your backpacks and pats a beat against yours that he has pressed to his chest.

But he really wants to, though.

There’s a little bounce in your step as you walk a few feet ahead of him, cooing at how much faster at walking you are than a basketball player, but he’s really just staying behind because he likes watching you walk.

Suddenly, there’s a lump in his throat. He attempts to swallow it down. It doesn’t work. He wonders what it is, but he doesn’t think he cares because you rub your hands together with the sleeves of his hoodie and he likes the sight of it. But whatever it is, it’s bubbling and rising and it tastes weird in the back of his mouth.

Suddenly it spills out. The words spill out.

You’d stopped in your tracks, turning around slowly at him with a shocked expression.

Shit! What had he said?

“What?” It seems you don’t know either, because you tilt your head at him (and he thinks it's adorable) and ask him to repeat what he’d said. Xiaoshi shakes his head, “Wait, I blanked out. What did I say?”

“You screamed something along the lines of ‘date and say something.’”

Oh shit. Cheng Xiaoshi had asked you out on a date unconsciously.

“Oh, there’s, uh, a showing of Say Something in the local theater. They like to rerun old films. No one really goes there, anymore, so we don’t have to if you don’t want to-”

“No!” You suddenly yell, and for some reason, you both jump. “I’d really, really like to see Say Something with you. Y’know, since you were so hurt by the fact that I haven’t watched it.”

There it is again. The blooming in his chest. It’s crazy he hasn’t fallen into a cardiac arrest yet. You smile at him, and he finds it contagious, smiling back even harder. You tell him something about you having to hurry home and telling him to hurry, and he does. He runs with you, the two backpacks that had just weighed him down now feeling weightless as they bounce against his back and chest because he’s jogging down a hill towards your house.

iv. unsaid.

Cheng Xiaoshi is dressed in his best pair of jeans and his favorite bomber jacket layered with a sweater underneath– he hopes you aren’t wearing anything thick enough so he could lend this one to you too, as stupid as the idea is.

He spends a solid five minutes in front of the mirror, telling himself many things:

“You got this.”

“Don’t screw up.”

“Act cool.”

“Do not screw it up.”

He takes one last good look at himself, huffing as he smooths the collar of his sweater, unable to rest at the thought of spending a night alone with you in what will most likely be a deserted theater. Nothing to screw up there.

Grabbing the house keys– because both Qiao Ling and Lu Guang had better plans to do rather than stay at home and help Xiaoshi get ready after he begged the both of them to– and stuffing them into the pocket of his bomber jacket, he repeats the three crucial words to himself over and over: “Don’t screw up.”

There’s not one thought running through his mind that’s not about you as he twists at the doorknob, mindlessly stepping out and turning around to lock the front door. Completely disregarding the fact that his teammates are pulled up in a red camaro in front of his house, Xiaoshi doesn’t think twice about immediately turning to the direction of the theater.

“Hey, Cheng Xiaoshi!”

Shocked, the said boy’s shoulders shrug up as he turns around, feet almost stumbling against the small bit of ice that had frozen on the pavement overnight. “Oh- hey! What are you doing here?”

“Giving you a ride to Hu’s, what else?”

Oh shit. Cheng Xiaoshi had completely forgotten about the pregame party he’d been invited to. Of course, he had no intention to go. But his teammates are stubborn, too stubborn.

“Sorry, guys, I can’t make it tonight.” Replies Xiaoshi, trying his best to sound guilty. One of them tilts his head, looks him up and down and asks: “Where else are you going, dressed like that?”

“I’ve… got a date.”

“Ah, come on!” His teammate scoffs, waving his hand in the air. “You can’t win yourself plenty of dates at the party. What’s one?”

One is with you. He can’t really afford to miss it, not for the world. Xiaoshi shrugs, turning around as he tells them: “Sorry, I can’t just stand someone up like that.”

“How do you know they’re not at the party? Can’t you just invite them there, whoever you’re going out with?”

Jesus. It’s not that easy, is it? Xiaoshi isn’t the golden boy they make him out to be. Their Xiaoshi was hand crafted and molded by their standards of a tall, charming basketball player that had many admirers. A porcelain that’s hollow inside. Hollow and filled with echoes of what they claim him to be. A player, a charmer, and MVP.

Almost all his life, Xiaoshi had been living to fit what everyone wants and expects him to be. And though he really, really wants to break through that porcelain and completely deny what they demand, he doesn’t think he has the strength to do that. Not even now, as his mind races with thoughts about you: how you look waiting for him in front of the theater, how you smell of cinnamon and gingerbread because you’d been making cookies with your mother at home, how warm you feel as you sit next to him, your arm pressed up against his.

Xiaoshi can hear his teammates begging him to come, and he absolutely despises it. Despises how his chest aches with guilt because his friends just want him to have fun with them.

He turns around, gives them a serious, pointed look, “Ten minutes, and then you drive me to the theater. Got it?”

“Got it! You’re the best, Cheng Xiaoshi!”

The tip of your nose is numb and you rub it in hopes that its sense will return. The theater is open and its warmth lures you in to welcome you, but you don’t want to enter before meeting with Xiaoshi.

You bring the collar of the hoodie you wear up to your chin, closing your eyes shut as if it’d help. It doesn’t. Taking out your phone from your pocket, on its screen projects the fact that Xiaoshi is ten minutes late. Your stomach drops, but you scold yourself for it, refusing to think lowly of Xiaoshi.

He’s going to show up any second now, sweating although it’s extremely cold out, nearly slipping on ice as he spits a spew of feverish apologies, cheeks dusted pink because of the cold. And you’re going to lean up, swipe a few snowflakes out of his hair and reassure him that you hadn’t been waiting too long. He’s going to lead you inside, take you by the arm and sit you right next to him in the warm seats of the theater, and whisper a few words in your ear; something along the lines of “you’ll love this movie, I promise you” or “you’re going to see what I was dying about, sweets.”

And he’s going to call you that name. That god-forbidden name that shouldn’t make you absolutely melt into an icky, thick puddle because it’s generic and commonly used in western movies. But it does. He does. Cheng Xiaoshi makes you melt as if you’re stuck in the summer, when you first met him, the electricity he sent when he’d handed you your book and your fingers brushed still humming through your fingers until now.

But he doesn’t.

You wait another ten minutes, then twenty, then thirty. A solid hour had passed and you’re still left outside in the cold, shaking and jittering as you constantly check your phone for any sign of him.

The old janitor had spotted you and called you to enter many times, but every time you informed him: “I’m waiting for someone.”

And he responds: “I hope this someone is worth waiting in the cold for.”

And typically, you’d completely agree with the statement. But now, as nearly all your limbs are frozen from either the cold or from standing for a solid hour, you don’t think you can agree with it. Not when your hopes had been so incredibly high. Not when you’d spent the whole day getting ready both mentally and physically. Not when your mother kissed the crown of your head and reassured you of the fact that this night was going to be as warm and as welcoming and as safe as it was in every other season.

No. The cold bites at your skin and you grow bitter and tired and cold.

“You promised me you would drive me to the theater.”

“Do I look like I’m in the condition to drive?”

Xiaoshi wants to punch this guy. Square in the jaw, or nose, or frankly anywhere. With the way he’s slurring his words and swinging his drink around in his hand makes himself practically a target with a big red circle in his face. But he knows better. Especially when he knows something as worth it as you awaits for him later.

“Okay,” Replies Xiaoshi, holding back the urge to roll his eyes as he sets his friend down on the couch. “You take it easy, alright cap? I gotta head out.”

“What? No! If this is about your stupid date, I swear to god we can find you one here that’s probably better than wherever you originally planned to be tonight.”

Okay, this guy was really testing his limits. Xiaoshi’s hands fist at his sides and he gives him a look, a dangerous one that no one had ever seen him wear. After a moment of contemplation, his teammate finally groans, waving with his hand, “Fine, bye. Go have fun on that super fun date.”

Xiaoshi doesn’t spare anyone one second to greet them goodbye, he grabs his bomber jacket that had been hung up on a coat hanger and immediately sprints out of the house, nearly tripping over the ice and the snow because Hu hadn’t shoveled his damn driveway and he can barely see because the sun had already disappeared.

“Shit, shit, shit.” The one thing Xiaoshi had to do was to not screw it up. What had happened? He screwed it up, because he’s such a damn people pleaser he can’t make one decision for himself.

The theater is a solid half an hour away on foot from Hu’s, but Xiaoshi made it in 10. His stomach drops and his head spins when he suddenly stops to a halt, his heels skidding against the ice against the pavement. You’re not here. You don’t stand in front of the theater like he’d imagined, and he thinks he wants to scream.

He rushes inside, breathless, searching frantically everywhere and calling out your name.

“If yer the fella that lovely one’s been waitin’ for,” An elderly suddenly speaks, his voice seemingly echoing and ricocheting against the walls of the theater, though it was built to be soundproof. “They’ve just gone. Probably still a block or two away.”

Xiaoshi mutters a quick thank you and wastes absolutely no time in sprinting, nearly falling to his knees when he takes a sharp turn to the left. And there you were, walking with a sullen face underneath a streetlamp.

This part of town was one of the first sections to be built, so many of the antique streetlights are either too dim to see, or have completely died. But the one you stand under illuminates brightly, showing your breath dissipating in the air as you heave a sigh.

His feet act before he thinks. He runs through the snow, the crunch against ice alerting you when he’s nearly a few feet away from you. You don’t want to look. Not when there are tears brimming your eyes.

“Y/N, I’m-” Xiaoshi is completely winded– not because he’d just sprinted nearly across town, but because he can see he had clearly hurt you. He can’t tell how long you’d been waiting for him, but considering the sour look you give him, he assumes you’d been waiting a long time, and he aches inside.

“I’m sorry.”

That’s all he can say. All that he’s willing to say. He’s afraid that if he let out any more, it’d escalate and he’d be going on and on about how deep in love he is with you and how much remorse in him there is right now and how much self poison is boiling in his stomach, bubbling and popping nearly out of his throat.

You look at him dead in the eye. Though he’d made you wait all that time, you don’t think you can look at him as if he had done you wrong. You look at him as if you try to understand him and what he’s going through– because you want to. You want to look at him like you hate him, and you want to say it too, but you can’t help but do the opposite.

“I love you, Cheng Xiaoshi.” You let out, and the boy twitches, as if you’d snapped something in him. But he’s still wordless, and you think you hate that.

“I love you, like a lot. And I’m not going to let one mishap get in the way of our friendship over these months. But waiting for you, out there, in the cold and in the snow, I felt embarrassed. Like I was throwing away my time– and maybe I was.” Tears flow down from the rims of your eyes and trail down your cheeks. Though it’s nearly a negative temperature out, your tears are hot against your skin. They’re hot and boiling and filled with both love and hatred.

Suddenly, you step forward and hit him in the chest. He lets you. You do it again, a sound escaping you. “Where were you? You better tell me the damn truth.” You spit.

“I was at a party.” Answers Xiaoshi with no hesitation. It just came out. He wants to explain about how his asshole teammates that he can’t believe he’d called his friends forced him into coming and refused to let him go anywhere else, but his body doesn’t let him.

You let out a laugh, one of disbelief. “You are the school’s golden boy, aren’t you? You are every little stereotype they call you. You’re charming, you’re handsome. You’re friendly.” You pause, letting out a shaky breath. “You’re a liar.”

“No,” Whispers Xiaoshi, though strained. You shake your head at him. “You’re a liar and a thief.” He’d stolen your heart, afterall, “You’re the golden boy. And I hate that I’ve learned to love every part of you, even the ones that hurt me.”

You want to turn around a walk away, but a part of you forces you to stay. Forces you to look him in the eye, forces a little bit of hope into your chest as he looks back at you. His mouth parts, and something in you jumps.

"I'm... sorry."

You don't know what he's sorry for: leaving you to wait for him in the snow for an hour, or you loving him. You don't want to find out, nodding as you bite the flesh on the inside of your cheek, resisting the tears that urge to fall from your eyes.

You’re walking away now. He hadn’t fully processed it, but as you're walking away, he can make out the crunch of the snow under your feet, and the sounds of your sniffles traveling away, further and further. His fingers twitch.

He screwed up. He always screws up.

But he can’t believe he’d screwed up in telling you how much he loved you. How much he’d wanted to reach out and caress you, whisper apologies in his ear in every form he has to offer. How much he was willing to bet he loved you more than anyone could love him.

Cheng Xiaoshi is always one to leave things unsaid, because in most cases it’s better if he does. But he’s become so conditioned to it that in times like this, his body is not his own anymore, and what he wants to say doesn’t come out, and what he wants to do doesn’t happen.

He can still see your silhouette under another streetlight shining, or maybe it’s just a light that follows you. And as much as he hated it, Xiaoshi had noticed that even when you beat at his chest, crying and overflowing with tears, you still felt warm. He doesn’t think he deserves to feel that warmth anymore.

v. winner, winner, chicken dinner!

You don’t know what you’re doing. Legs pressed up against your chest, you bite at your nails as your free hand hovers over the spacebar key of your laptop. The opening scene of the wretched movie ‘Say Something’ is projected across your screen and you fully intend on watching it, as much as it hurts you. A film or a memory to hold on to because Cheng Xiaoshi will not be wanting to see you anymore.

And as the film introduces its main character, Lloyd Dobler, you hate the fact that he reminds you so much of him. Just a big and strong guy that doesn’t stop chasing this girl that he likes– though you don’t think you could play the role of Diane. Not in this story.

Cheng Xiaoshi is like Lloyd Dobler in many ways. He’s not the brightest, but he’s loyal. He loves his family. He can’t keep still. In some cases, you even think he can box, too. He’s supportive of those he keeps close to him. He’d rather live in the moment, and can barely think about the future without letting his mouth run about what he thinks of his future.

And you hate that you know all this, because you still love him. You know you shouldn’t, because he practically rejected you with that last apology, but god, was it hard to hate someone like him.

He’s the golden boy. Shiny and untouchable.

You’re honestly surprised you let your feelings brew this much before realizing that he is untouchable. And it’ll always remain that way.

You’ve reached the part of the movie where Diane and Lloyd kiss after she’d led him to nearly break his nose, whispering apologies and reasons why she loves him and needs him. You ache inside. Bitter, you huff and close your laptop shut (a little too harshly) and bury your face into the covers of your bed, wanting nothing but to scream. And you do, and it creates this wet spot on your pillow but you’re too miserable to feel disgusted and wipe it away.

As much as Xiaoshi reminded you of Lloyd, he was Diane in this situation. He’d hurt you and left you to fend for yourself.

It is officially spring and a solid week before Xiaoshi plays against what might be the nation’s best high school basketball team, and he’s worried completely about something else. His arms stretch up and he shoots the firm basketball out of his palms, grimacing when it all but just bounces off the rim of the ring.

Shit.

This is not good. Why the hell was he here, anyway? He should be jogging to your house, knocking on every crevice because you’d refuse to open the front door for him. He should be climbing up to your window, looking at you with desperate eyes and tell you how much he loves you and how much he doesn’t deserve to be loved by you.

As it happens, he doesn’t believe you in fact love him. Not as much as he adores you, at least, because he finds himself utterly unlovable yet that’s the one thing he asks of you. To be loved, to be held, to be comforted and appreciated.

Xiaoshi can’t make his mind up and he’s extremely furious at himself for it. This is no love or hate situation, but he can’t help the latter. The hate. Not towards you, but towards himself. There’s no way in this world anyone could convince him he could be loved as much as he loved– and yet, you did. You convinced him one winter night, where the first snowfall had happened.

Something so sweet and innocent, ruined by tragedy and his stupidity.

“Hey.” Xiaoshi is startled out of his inattentive state with a firm hand smacked to his shoulder. “You alright, man? You aren’t looking good these days.” Though his teammate voices clear concern, it’s obvious he only cares because of an upcoming game that Xiaoshi really needs his head in the game for.

“I’m good,” Answers Xiaoshi, brushing his hand off with a hollow smile. “Just bad sleep.”

Bad sleep, his ass. Bad sleep, anyone's ass! He couldn’t get a wink of sleep because he’s always up thinking about you, about what he should have said to you on that winter night.

Cheng Xiaoshi’s chest beats erratically in his chest, and he can’t tell if it's pre-game shivers or the fact that you’re sitting on a bleacher next to Lu Guang and Qiao Ling, clad in the sweater you still haven’t returned since autumn. He hadn’t seen or talked to you since the day he tried to apologize. He was convinced you’d hate his guts– but here you were. He knows you’re not the type of person to hold an argument like that to heart, but you’d still avoided him the whole half month he tried to reach out to you in the halls or through your number.

Frankly, you don’t even know why you’re here, either. Xiaoshi had rejected you (though he really doesn’t realize you think so): shouldn’t that be enough of a hint for you to back off?

“There he is,” Qiao Ling mentions as the basketball team makes their way onto the court. As you turn to watch said team, Xiaoshi’s eyes meet yours for a brief second, and you can clearly read the surprise in them, but ignore it with thinned lips as you tear your gaze from him, electing that striking up a conversation with Lu Guang would ease the harsh thumping against your chest.

“I don’t get it; why didn’t you join the team?” You ask Lu Guang, his lowly-lidded eyes examining the opposing team. “Sure, I’m good,” He says, blunt. “But I play purely for fun. Plus, I don’t like getting too sweaty.”

“Please, don’t you know how many more people would fawn over you if they knew you were smart and skilled in sports?”

“I am not skilled in sports. Plus, that’s just more of a reason for me not to join. I don’t like people.”

Wow. A very Lu Guang thing to say coming from the boy himself.

“Aren’t they the team that made it to nationals last year?” Gasps Qiao Ling as she swings an arm around your shoulder, urging you to look with her. With your shoulder pressed against hers, you do in fact recognize the logo and jerseys from the sports channel you’d distinctly watched last year– your classmate had made you watch it with him.

Qiao Ling mutters a small, quiet curse under her breath, “You think he can beat them?”

Without a beat or a second of hesitation, you answer firmly: “Yeah.”

The older girl turns and gives you a look, and you roll your eyes at her, “I’ve seen the boy play. Surely you have, too,”

“Yeah, but, you answered in like, a heartbeat.”

“He’s like, a basketball god, Qiao Ling. He’s not the golden boy for no reason.”

You hate the fact that you admit it, even though you’ve said it nearly a million times before. Qiao Ling is about to say something, but the two, very bold, student commentators cut her sentence short with a brief introduction to the match and each team player.

Your mind blanks. You can hear cheering from both the students of your school and the opposing school. The commentators introduce their MVP first: Xiaoshi. He wears a shy smile as he jogs to the center of the court, bowing politely. You can’t help but smile a little at his bashful behavior. And for a moment, you think he looks at you. You can’t tell by the students’ waving arms in front of you nearly blocking your vision. But even if he did or not, your heart nearly pauses for a second, and your hearing becomes faded and warped– as if you were underwater.

All you can hear now is your slow breathing, your heartbeat; all you can feel is the warmth you relish in as you wear his sweater, even though it’s spring and unnecessary.

And then he takes a look at the other side of the bleachers, smiling brightly when his friends from sociology cheer his name like fanboys.

Qiao Ling comments something about the biggest player on the opposing team and you nod, though you didn’t really fully comprehend what she’d said.

Xiaoshi is completely short of breath and he hadn’t even started playing. He tries to convince himself it’s because nearly the whole crowd had cheered him on, but he knows better. The one fleeting second he had stolen just to look at you left him dazed and he doesn’t think he can play if you’re going to be looking at him like that the whole time.

Standing in the center, the match begins with a loudd whistle from the referee, andd suddenly everything around him is moving rapidly. The muscles of his legs force him to move and suddenly he’s jogging past an opponent, his arm stretching out and waving for the ball.

Every part of his body that functions right now is running off of pure adrenaline and muscle memory, his mind still in a fuzzy haze that clears slowly. He suddenly feels the rough edge of the ball in his hand. His fingers trace and grip along the leather material of the basketball, and in pure instinct, his knees bend low and his hands dribble the ball like it was as easy as breathing.

Swift and nearly too quick to miss, Xiaoshi races across the court with the ball bouncing in his hand, and he runs up to the ring, jumping and scoring a point for his team with a right hand layup.

The crowd screams. The haze that had clouded Xiaoshi’s mind fades and clears, and with a bright, toothy grin, he turns immediately to your side of the bleachers, meeting eyes with you.

You, who’s stunned and hands cover your mouth because the whole thing had happened so fast and so early within the game. You, who doesn’t look away this time, but instead cups your hands around your mouth as you shout: “Go, Cheng Xiaoshi!” You, who can’t help but let out a joyous laugh when he throws two thumbs up in the air, winking. The crowd goes wild over the sight, chanting his name over and over.

For the remainder of the match, Xiaoshi scores and scores and scores, and everytime he spins to look at you. And when you cheer for him, he feels like the energy he had just exerted throughout the game was recharged and even doubled. You look at him with a toothy grin, throwing a thumb-up at him, and he literally thinks the whole world revolves around him and the fact that you just gave him one.

There’s one last minute left of the game. The entire gymnasium is quiet, save for the players’ quick pants and sneakers squeaking under the polished wood. Your breath is bated, and you don’t know whether to watch the ball, the opponents, or Xiaoshi. The ball flies from one teammate’s grasp to another and every time it does

your fingers stretch and flinch a little and even muscle and bone in your body pauses. It’s frankly killing you.

The ball travels between at least every player on the team, until it eventually falls into the hands of Cheng Xiaoshi.

With 10 seconds to his name, the boy aims, his breath cutting short in his throat, his knees bending naturally as he prepares himself to shoot. And then his fingers flex, and the ball flies out of his hands, traveling gracefully yet painstakingly in the air. It bounces against the rim once. Then twice.

You think it’s going to bounce again one more time, but you’re wrong because Lu Guang exhales just a split second the orange leathery ball rolls through the ring. He’d known. He could tell already.

You’re shocked.

But you don’t have time to be, because after at least 5 seconds worth of silence, the entire gymnasium erupts in cheers and everyone around you is standing up, save for Lu Guang who wears a rare smile.

Qiao Ling grabs onto your arm and shakes it, jumping with her eyes shut as she yells: “Holy shit- we won!”

Holy shit. They won. We won. He won.

Grabbing onto her two hands with your own, you jump up and down with her, at some point grabbing onto Lu Guang’s hand and nearly forcing him to bounce with the both of you.

Xiaoshi, from below, watches as the three of you celebrate, his face warming when he sees you mouth the words: “Oh my god” over and over again. Although the entire team and nearly the entire student body that had come to watch rushed down to him, he had zero intentions with anyone else. All he wanted to do right now was be with you, letting you hold his hand as you tell him how crazy his last shot had been.

But he can’t, because his legs turn jelly and the adrenaline that had been piloting him the whole time is suddenly shut off. The team captain swings his arm around Xiaoshi’s shoulders, yelling, “To our MVP!” But everything feels and sounds warped to the said boy.

“Don’t miss out on the post-game party!”

Great, thinks Xiaoshi. Another party to get mad at my friends at. Though, he’s convinced even you might be there, so he might just go.

“Post-game party?” You repeat, turning to both your friends. “Are you guys going?”

“Obviously not.”

“Yeah, I am.”

Lu Guang and Qiao Ling both give each other looks due to the difference in answers, and it almost cracks you up. The girl turns to you, her expression hopeful, but you almost immediately shake your head at her, “Sorry, you know I’m not a party person.”

“But come for me!”

“I already attended this game for you!”

“Okay, fair,” Hums Qiao Ling, her finger tapping against her cheek before she sighs with a click of her tongue. “Fine, have fun, you cozy homebodies!”

“We will.” Answers Lu Guang as you both watch her walk away with a friend that had called her over. The boy turns to you, “You,” he plants his hand to your shoulder, and you almost shiver. You’d never seen this look on his face. It almost seems… conflicted. “You’d better make things right with Xiaoshi. Please. He keeps whining about trying to think of ways to make it up to you.”

“To make it up to me? I’m in the wrong here, am I not?”

“You think so?” Lu Guang’s voice is graced with slight sarcasm, and you think you like it that way. You nod, “Yeah, I’m pretty sure.”

“...this is a conversation you should be having with Xiaoshi.”

After sending you an encouraging squeeze to the shoulder and a gentle , tight-lipped smile, Lu Guang descends from the bleachers, swiping through the crowd almost too easily. You watch him, chest growing heavier yet lighter at the same time at the mere thought of talking to Xiaoshi again after months of avoiding each other and exams and basketball.

You don’t think you can bear it, frankly, but you feel like it’s a tide. It’s slow but inevitable. As you step down from the bleachers, you look back at the center of the court, where the basketball team has a brief talk with the coach, and through the many figures of his teammates, Xiaoshi still somehow meets eyes with you, his shining in something you can’t figure out yet.

You let yourself linger, counting as your heart skips a beat or two, before tearing away, heaving a sigh you hadn’t meant to hold in.

Xiaoshi’s knee jumps up and down as he can barely watch you exit the court hall, holding back a whine because his coach is taking too long in debriefing and congratulating. He wipes at his browline, looking to the ceiling lights and squinting, attempting to ease the eagerness in him to just run after you.

And then he realizes: he’d been resisting to this whole half semester, why should he now? He’s earned it.

“And don’t forget your defense transitio-”

“Hey, coach?”

Xiaoshi interjects with a finger stuck up in the air, pulling his hair back with his other palm. His teacher, a little stunned, replies with a quiet ‘yes?’ and it takes nearly everything in the boy not to jump up from his spot on the polished floors.

“I need to go to the bathroom. Like, really, really bad.”

“...right now?”

“Yes, right now. I can’t hold it in, teach,”

Well, that’s half true. The coach looks at him, slightly humored as he waves a sign of permission with the back of his palm.

Immediately, he springs up to his feet, wasting no time in sprinting straight through the door and narrowly passing students taking their time in the hall.

Xiaoshi never realized how fast you walked, because within that minute of holding back in the court, you’d made it to the gates by the time he spotted you. The place is strangely deserted, but that’s probably because everyone is taking the way behind the school to get to the post-game party in the woods. Your hands are jammed into the pouch of his hoodie and you watch your feet as you move, and anyone could tell there was something troubling you just by looking at you.

Your name is stuck in his throat. He wants to yell for you, call out to you and just grab and engulf you in his arms, but he doesn’t want to scare you. It’s 8PM and he knows how jumpy you get when you’re out at night.

Instead, he lightly jogs behind you, nimble fingers stretching out to just barely graze his hoodie you wear. Though he’d barely touched anything, you stop almost promptly, feet planted right next to each other as you listen to the sound of the soles of Xiaoshi’s shoes scraping to a stop against the pavement ground.

“...Y/N.”

The sound of your name escaping his lips makes you inhale sharply, and you’re hesitant to turn around. But you do anyway, because there’s a pulling force gravitating you towards him, like the moon and the earth. The first part of him you see are his pair of jordans, slightly worn out with a loose yarn by the tongue of the shoe. Then you spot his knees, taking notice of how they’re a little darker than the rest of his legs, littered by a scab or two. His fingers clench and unclench in fists, and his elbows nearly lift towards you, and you’d let full heartedly let him hug you– you think you want him to right now.

“Xiaoshi.” You finally breathe back, nearly everything in you shivering once you meet his gaze. He looks at you as if full of remorse and want, and it shakes something in you.

“I missed you, sweets.” He says, voice hoarse and quiet. You nearly erupt in butterflies or honey bees or whatever bug invades your stomach that he never fails to elicit in you. His fingers stretch and pause in the air for a brief moment, before they settle, your sleeve pinched between his grip. He tugs a little, just a little, and yet it feels as if that alone had brought everything pieced together– his words to you, your feelings for him, his breath fanning your forehead as he breathes out a sigh.

“I’m sorry, too.”

“What?”

“I’m sorry.” You say, but this time you look at him and you mean it and it hurts him. “I’m sorry I told you how I felt about you with no regard to how you would feel. And for calling you a liar. And a thief.” The last parts come out in a guilty whisper, like a child confessing to their wrongdoing. “You have every right to tell me to get out of your face– and your life– and to not want to speak to me ever again.”

The air is thick when you finish, but Xiaoshi doesn’t let go of your sleeve. In fact, you think he grips it tighter, now in all five fingers instead of just the two.

“Actually,” You cough. “Frankly, I’m a liar. I-I said I wasted my time waiting for you. But I was wrong. Actually, I can’t believe I ever said that. You are worth… everything. Everything this universe— and I have to offer. You give so much to this world, you’re changing lives! And nothing, and I mean nothing can ever amount to waste when it comes to you.” You look up at him, your fingers tracing around and holding his wrist.

“I’m sorry.” And though you’d already said it earlier, the sound of your voice and the look in your eyes portray the exact same kind of apology Xiaoshi had given you that night. “You are a thief, though,” You laugh through bitterness, the confused tilt of his head far too adorable for you to hate it. “You’re a dirty thief for stealing the stupid, little thing in my chest that beats only when you’re around.”

Xiaoshi’s head might just explode at the load you’d just chucked at him with your own bare fist. The feeling of your fingers loosely hanging around his wrist that grips at your hoodie prickles and gives him a small shockwave– the nice one you always give him when your skin touches his.

“...you really don’t expect me to take without giving back, do you?”

“Huh?”

Suddenly you’re wrapped in Xiaoshi’s firm grip, his arms gripping around your waist and his chin tucked right on top of the crown of your head. “You’re so stupid sometimes, Y/N.” He sighs, the vibrations of his chest as he speaks ricocheting through you like echoes.

“What is that supposed to mean?” You can’t help but argue into his clothed shoulder, drooping your arms around his chest. “That’s rich coming from Mr. 50 points on his last math quiz.”

Xiaoshi pinches your sides lightly at your quick retort and you jump with a gasp, smacking his shoulder when he laughs. His scent, his warmth, his touch. you’re so relieved to feel all again. He sways you slowly from side to side, breath steadying but his heart still beating as fast as a racer’s– and you can feel it faintly when your cheek presses up against him.

There’s nothing to stop the both of you as you hold each other close. The rays of the sun become cooler as it sets, painting the skies several hues of pink and orange. Your shoes are pressed against his, his two feet planted on either side of yours, nearly completely engulfing you in him.

“I’m so madly in love with you, Y/N,” Xiaoshi finally says, though it really just… escaped him. You freeze against him and it forces him to slow the swaying to a halt, and it scares him. Your fingers bunch into the material of his jersey and you pull away, something unreadable swimming and wavering in your eyes as you ask him, “Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.”

“You’re not telling me this because you feel like you need to like me back?”

“No, not at all.”

You want to say something, be firm with him, but your throat betrays you as you let out a broken whisper:

“You better not be playing with me right now, Cheng Xiaoshi.”

The boy’s hands, leaving your sides, trail up your neck and rest at both sides of your face, fingers pressed against the base of your jaw. His thumb swipes at your cheekbones, then the outer lines of your eyes, and then they follow the lengths of your eyebrows. His right thumb traces down your nose bridge, then presses firmly against the button of your nose, wiggling and eliciting a small breathy laugh out of you.

Then, slowly– almost too slowly–, he lets the pad of his thumb feel down the underside of your nose, then the crease above your lips. He looks at your mouth, a burning feeling of want brewing in him as he presses his lips together.

Your lips part just a little, to let out an expecting breath, then they close as you gaze up at him, your eyes watching how his scrutinizes your face.

“I love you.”

“What?”

“I love you.” Xiaoshi says again, firm this time. You give him a smile, shaking your head. “No, what?” And then it clicks. He grins, chest puffing out a little at the reference you make.

The fact that you’d still watched Say Something meant a lot to him. It proved how much of an impact your little gestures make in his life.

“I love you. How many times do I have to say it?”

“One more time would be nice.” You hum, and he laughs, pressing his forehead against yours. “I love you.” He whispers, his voice little as he relishes the feeling of your skin pressed on his.

“You’re so incredibly pretty, Y/ L/N, I could just kiss you right now.”

“You’re so incredibly pretty, Cheng Xioashi, that I might just let you.”

Oh. Xiaoshi can’t seem to believe you’d just said that. “Wh- are you- are you sure? I mean, after all I’ve done– I stood you up! I ghosted you for half a semester. I don’t think it’s right. For me. To have the pleasure of planting my lips to yours. Frankly, I wouldn’t even want to kiss a guy who- oh!”

Seemingly growing tired of his rambling, your hand presses against his cheek and you stand on the tips of your toes to give him a gentle kiss, his lips molding to yours almost immediately. He smiles and when you pull away, he’s quick to pull you close by the neck, kissing you again, then again, then again.

His lips, though you’d imagined they’d be scorched and hot, are warm. Not temperature wise, but warm in an inviting way, like toasted marshmallows in hot chocolate. Or like fresh burritos in autumn. Or like the summer sun where you share a milkshake in the outdoor canteen. Like home.

Xiaoshi hums when he manages to steal you with a kiss again, and you can’t help but grin against him, murmuring against his lips, “You’re so stupid.”

“I’m your stupid.” He shoots back, lips chasing yours when you finally part from him. You bring a hand up to his mouth and it’s moist and warm, “Give me a break! We need to breathe, Xiaoshi,”

In response, he breathes out a heavy sigh, the weight on his back he’d carried for two months vanishing as he melts into your shoulder. “You don’t understand how lucky I am to be with you right now.”

“I’m not all that special-”

“You are! It may not seem like it to you, but to me, you’re everything. My energy, my breath, my best friend. Or, maybe, a little more than that, if you wanted to…?” He trails off nervously, facing down and planting his lips on your shoulder, which you find endearing. “I’m sorry I didn’t show up that night. I was forced to go to this party and I ended up pissing some of my friends and to add to all of that I pissed you off. And- and all I had to say to your confession was ‘I’m sorry’. ‘I’m sorry’!?” He pulls away, hands grabbing yours tightly.

“Who even says that!? Frankly, I’m surprised you didn’t punch me right then and there. I’m- I’m such an ass when it comes to stuff like this, ‘m sorry.”

“Hey!” You gasp, interlacing your fingers with his. “That’s my boyfriend you’re talking about!” You cough, “That is, uh, if you want to be my boyfriend.”

Xiaoshi, now beaming, flushes a bright pink, but he can’t bring himself to care when his arms wrap around you and you laugh into his chest as he squeezes you almost inhumanly tight. “‘M sorry, sweets, I’m so difficult.” He mumbles in your hair. “I’ve never really done anything like this.”

“Neither have I, big guy.” You let out a shaky sigh. “But I have faith in us. We’ll figure it out, right?”

Xiaoshi leans back and presses his forehead to yours, your nose brushing up against his affectionately. “Right.”

Summertime is a time of new opportunities. New year, new experiences, new companions. And though the warmth of summer doesn’t seem to stay all year long, it’ll always come back, just as fresh and welcoming. The fleeting moments of your first encounter with Xiaoshi will forever hold a place in your heart, as will the season of summer.

And as debatable as it is, the best moments in your life are aestival. Born and belonging in the summer.

to all the link click readers out there, and to boba bub.

#♪ mari writes!#link click #link click x reader #cheng xiaoshi x reader #xiaoshi x reader #link click imagines #cheng xiaoshi imagines #xiaoshi imagines #shiguang daili ren #shiguang daili ren x reader #shiguang daili ren imagines #lu guang x reader #lu guang imagines #qiao ling x reader #qiao ling imagines #aaa i did it!!!

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