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endlessthxxghts · 24 days

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Ch1: New Beginnings

teacher!reader x student's dad!Frankie Morales || W/C: 8.8k

Ch. Summary: Frankie gets introduced to a new opportunity for his daughter, Elena. You get introduced to your new job. In celebration of these new beginnings, you both set out to a night at the bar, completely unaware that your paths are about to cross.

Content/Warnings: F!reader (she/her), female sex anatomy, reader is able-bodied. No physical descriptions of reader. Slight description of reader’s outfit (no size descriptions). Tío Santi (& TF Miller boys) makes an appearance. Slight implication reader understands some Spanish. Going out to bar/consumption of alcohol. Flirting. POV switch, mainly Frankie this chapter. SMUT 18+ MDNI. Sexual activity while under the influence of alcohol (you've slowed down your alcohol intake by that point, though). “Author Chose Not to Apply Archive Warnings” because it may result in spoilers (but there’s smut here…).

A/N: thank you to @honeyedmiller for proof-reading this for me, and thank you to @javierpena-inatacvest for peer pressuring me into giving my little idea an actual chance. I love love love you both sm🩶 to everyone, I truly hope you enjoy!! All my love xx

series masterlist || main masterlist || updates blog

August 2024

“Thank you so much for coming in, Mr. Morales.”

“It’s no problem at all, Mrs. Adams, is- is, um, is everything okay? Is Elena doing alright?” Frankie asks the second grade teacher, concerned.

The school year hasn’t started yet, but from time to time, the school does accelerated summer sessions that last a few weeks up until the actual start date of the school year. Elena always attends these sessions, begging her dad every summer to sign her up for one because I need to learn more! she’d tell him. How could he deny her the chance to expand that beautiful mind of hers?

“Oh, yes, everything is good! Elena is wonderful, and that’s actually why I asked you to come in,” she states. “Are you aware of how smart that girl is?”

Frankie can’t help the cheesy grin that spreads across his face. “Yeah, she’s always too excited to show me her progress reports and report cards, always pulling them out before we even leave the parking lot at the end of her days,” he beams.

“Oh, I bet. She blows me away everyday, that girl,” Mrs. Adams says genuinely. “So much so that I actually think she shouldn’t be attending here anymore,” the teacher adds, softer than the rest of her previous statements.

Frankie’s eyebrows twist in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“Well, don’t get me wrong, I love having Elena, and everyone in this school loves her, too. She’s one of our brightest. But,” she sighs. “She is so damn smart, Mr. Morales. I’d go as far as to say she’s a prodigy.”

“Oh,” Frankie says, pleasantly surprised and confused. He still doesn’t know where she’s getting at. He tells her as much.

“What I’m trying to say is- Elena isn’t getting the proper brain stimulation someone of her level needs. She needs to go somewhere that will increase her levels at the fast rate she’s moving and somewhere that will stimulate the creative parts of her brain. Traditional public school—at least here—cannot provide her with that.”

Frankie has always known his daughter’s natural intelligence. She often comes home either excited because they worked on a topic she’s really good at, or she comes home really bored and exhausted—because they worked on a topic she’s really good at. It’s too repetitive for her, but he wasn’t sure what other options he had.

Frankie takes a moment to think. “Even if I did move her to a school that has all this, it sounds like it would cost a lot of money. Money that I unfortunately don’t have right now,” he says with a heavy breath.

Mrs. Adams’ smile grows ten times bigger. “Mr. Morales-”

“Frankie, please,” he corrects.

“Frankie, there’s a school for the gifted connected to our local university just a few miles down the way. I used to work there, and I have friends there. Please forgive me if I’ve overstepped, but I’ve spoken to the Director of Admissions. There’s a waitlist, and barely any get admitted—and it’s by semester, so you’ll have to keep up with re-enrolling her—but I told them all about Elena. They want her, Frankie. No waitlist. No tuition. They want her for this new semester. And I really think you should go for it.”

Frankie sits in Mrs. Adams’ office, utterly stunned. He’s sure his jaw is on the floor right now, eyes bugged out like those squeezable stress toys. “I- I don’t know what to say…” Frankie trails off.

“I know it’s a big step,” the teacher comforts. “But think about it.” She pulls out a card from her desk and hands it to him. “Here’s the director’s card. I’ll reach out to them to make sure they know to expect your call.”

Frankie knows this is a good thing. He knows these are once in a lifetime opportunities, and he knows if he goes through with this now, those rare opportunities won’t be so rare for her as she gets older. That’s all he wants for his daughter; nothing but opportunity and the right kind of challenges meant to help her grow as a person.

So why does he feel so nervous? He’s dealt with change before, and he’s dealt with last-minute, under pressure change up in the sky where his life could’ve been on the line—but nothing compares to the anxiety when it involves Elena. Since she was born, she is all he’s ever known. It’s been him and her against the world, and although some days are more difficult than others doing this parenting thing alone, Frankie wouldn’t have it any other way.

He gives Mrs. Adams his thank yous and goodbyes, and makes his way to the front office. It’s 12 o’ clock right now—recess time—but he wouldn’t doubt she’s propped up against a pillar with her nose in a book. He decides to check Elena out early and take her to go get dessert.

“She’ll be escorted here in a few minutes,” the front desk lady tells him.

“Thank you, ma’am,” Frankie says, resting his back against the wall.

A few minutes pass and the office’s door bursts open with the heartwarming sounds of his daughter’s giggles, an excited aura filling the room. “¡Papi!” she squeals, immediately wrapping her arms around the parts of her father she can reach.

“¡Mija!” he says, matching her energy, pulling her in for a tight squeeze. He kneels down to reach her level, placing a kiss on her forehead before he speaks. “Wanna go get dessert?”

Her eyes light up like a million stars. “Please!!” she replies, her entire body shaking in Frankie’s grasp.

Frankie picks her up, and they make their way to the car. Buckling her into her car seat, Frankie settles himself to the driver’s seat and asks the burning question before he pulls off. “Brownie sundae spot or-”

“BROWNIE!” Elena replies immediately. Frankie has to slap his mouth to stop from the uncontrollable laughter bubbling out from his chest. He knew what her answer would be. “Okay, mija, brownie spot it is.”

Their usual brownie sundae spot is in a little diner up the street from their house. Frankie began this little tradition as a way to celebrate Elena’s wins and milestones. The first milestone they celebrated was for her first word: airplane. Frankie was ecstatic, practically jumping up and down with Elena in his arms until his best friend, Santiago, had to calm him down. “Ay, tranquilo, tranquilo,” relax, relax, he said, holding his hands softly around Elena’s little head.

Today’s milestone, however, is much bigger than any they’ve celebrated, and the notion is not lost on little Elena.

“Papi,” she calls. “Are we celebrating something?”

Frankie chuckles to himself, loving how easily she can put things together. “We might be, mi amorcito.”

“Hm?” She hums, eyebrows furrowed and head tilted to the side as she settles into the booth seat, sitting across from her dad.

Their usual waiter comes before they can continue their conversation. “Hey, guys! The usual?”

Elena answers first, very excitedly. “YES, YES, BROWNIE SUNDAE!!!” She squeals as she elongates every syllable. Frankie confirms with a head nod as he chuckles at her energy.

“What’s the occasion?” The waiter says softer, directing the question to Frankie.

“We’ll see after I talk with this little lady,” Frankie tells the waiter, extending his long arm out to pinch Elena’s little cheek.

The waiter smiles and walks off, putting the order in with the kitchen and asking for a little bit of a delay to give Frankie enough time to talk things through with his daughter.

“So,” Frankie states.

“So,” his daughter mirrors, putting on her best serious face while fighting the huge grin that wants to break free.

“Do you know how smart you are, mija?” Frankie asks, smiling because he knows what she’s gonna say. Duh, papi, he thinks in his head.

“Duh, papi!” She says, a troublemaking giggle she’s had since her babbling stages echoes their little corner of the diner.

“Alright, little smart ah-” Frankie coughs to stop his mouth. “You little smarty pants,” he corrects himself.

“Daddy, were you about to call me a smartass?” She scolds.

His cheeks flush a bright red. “You spend too much time with Tío Santi,” he deadpans.

She hums, nodding her head triumphantly.

“Anyway,” he says, noting in his mind to scold Santi for his mouth around his little girl. “You’re so smart, mija, I was wondering… well, I was wondering if you feel like you’re actually learning?”

“What do you mean, papi?”

“Well, everything you’ve been learning so far is super easy for you, isn’t it?”

She ponders for a moment. “Yeah, it’s easy,” she confirms.

“Does it ever make you bored, how easy some days are?”

“A little, yeah,” she says a little softer. “But it’s okay because I end up helping my friends, and Mrs. Adams tells me I’m her assistant,” she giggles with pride.

“You’re too good, amor,” he chuckles. “But what if I told you,” he starts. Immediately, her interest is piqued. “A really fancy, really smart school heard about how smart you are?”

Her chocolate brown eyes widen, and her little jaw drops. “Me?! Really?!”

“Yes, baby!” Frankie can feel his excitement rising alongside hers, his initial nervousness fading just as quick. “And what if I told you they want you to go to their school?” Elena’s hands fly to her mouth, suppressing her squeals of joy. Frankie can hear her legs kicking back and forth underneath the table. “Would you wanna go, mi niña inteligente (my smart girl)?”

“So… I’ll learn harder things?” She asks.

“Yes,” he swallows thickly. Frankie thinks she’s having anxiety.

It’s not. “Then…” She settles for her usual diva answer. “Duh, papi!” She giggles, positively radiating pure excitement on this new journey she’s about to embark on.

She wiggles out of her side of the booth to crash into her father’s arms, pulling him into the tightest hug ever. As she pulls away and settles next to Frankie, the waiter comes out with the sundae, Congratulations! written in cursive on the side of the plate. Elena reads the message with ease, scooping up the red icing with her finger and licking it up. “Thank you!!” She exclaims to the waiter who murmurs a sweet smartest person I know with a ruffle to her curly head of hair.

The waiter looks at Frankie with a genuine smile, and Frankie returns it. This diner really has been there for all the Morales’ family wins. Frankie wonders what other miracles just might happen in this little building.

For the first time in your teaching career, you are nervous.

You’ve dealt with gifted children before, and you had no problems juggling public school and the extra side lessons you’d give to the occasional gifted child. People tend to underestimate the amount of prodigal children in the world due to the constant brushing off these adults like to give to developing humans. These little children deserve as much respect and care that any other human deserves, maybe even more. The children are our future, after all.

So, now that you’re starting a new job, in a school dedicated to your life’s passion—yeah, you’re pretty nervous.

This school was created by the state’s local university; it was their attempt at providing children with an enriching, stimulating environment that the typical school system couldn’t care enough to provide, and their attempt was an absolute success. It will take a little while to get themselves off their feet, so tuition and enrolling students is expensive compared to what you would pay for your child in the public education system.

However, with time and careful planning, the program’s ultimate goal is to adequately provide to childrens of all needs—regardless of their prodigal status—for little to no cost. It’s definitely an ambitious goal, but it’s one you’re absolutely ready and willing to stick around for.

You were hired this summer, August 1st to be exact. The principal—Ms. Sabatino—caught wind of the powerhouse of a teacher who goes above and beyond for her students, and she just had to have you on her team. Your interview wasn’t even a real interview: it was exchanging logistical information and showing you to your new home base, your new classroom. She told you if you wanted to take the time before the year officially started to make your classroom feel more like you, you could.

It took you about a week to settle the vibe of your classroom, and during your preparations, you met a few other teachers, instantly hitting it off with each other that they invited you to their “semester pregame,” they called it.

“You have to come, Ms. Powerhouse!” Ms. Smith—Linda, she corrected you—exclaimed.

“Powerhouse?!” You repeated, a little frightened. You knew coming in that the culture here was very tight-knit, but how fast does word really spread around here?

“Yeah, you powerhouse, you!” Mr. White—Blake—chimes in. “You’re all anyone is talking about! Honestly, we’ve been dying to meet you.”

And lastly, Ms. Marshall—Leah—joins in. “You’re a real legend, ya know that, don’t you? Sticking to the Rebel theme we got going on here,” she smirks, referring to their school’s mascot, the Rebels.

You flush under all their praise. “I really don’t know what you guys are talking about,” you say softly. “I’m just trying to do what’s best for our kiddos, like any of us would.” A proud smile graces your face, and not for the things you’ve done, but for the amazing students you’ve had the honor of meeting and teaching. There truly isn’t a better feeling.

The three teachers share a knowing look, the one that tells you they think you’re just trying to be humble. Their hums of secret agreement don’t escape your super-teacher hearing.

Ms. Marshall is the one to speak again. “Are you going to come though? We really would love to have you. We’ve been trying to find someone who can hold their alcohol better than Mr. Lightweight here can,” she cackles, pointing over to Mr. White, who now has an offended look on his face.

“I’ll have you know-” he starts. “Oh, Blake, enough with the excuses already!” Ms. Smith cuts him off.

You giggle at their banter, your apprehensiveness about this little squad slowly melting away. “I’m afraid if you’re looking for someone who can hold their own, that person is not me…but I would absolutely love to join you guys. When and where is this pregame?”

“YAAASSSSSS!” Ms. Smith is quick to squeal. She’s definitely the life of the party with these three. “We have it the Saturday before the semester starts! So, the 17th I believe. It’s a bit risky depending on how plastered we end up getting, but it’s all a part of the fun,” she says with a wink.

You reach for your phone in your back pocket, unlocking and letting your three new friends put their phone numbers in. You group text them so they have your number, too. “Perfect! I can’t wait,” you say sheepishly, your excitement slowly rising as their smiles begin to mirror your own. It’s been a while since you let yourself go and get lost in something else other than work, and you think this little pregame is exactly what you’ve been needing.

“Oh, come on, Fish! You have to come out with us!” Santi tells you, giving Frankie’s shoulder a punch of encouragement.

Frankie hisses at the impact, swatting Santi’s hand away with a scowl. “No.”

“Fish,” Santi reasons. “The Millers haven’t seen you in a hot minute since my ‘Lena girl was born, man. They miss you. Especially Benny, you know how sensitive that man gets. And! We need to celebrate this new chapter for you and ‘Lena!”

“We already celebrated,” Frankie corrects. “At the diner.”

“An adult celebration, Fish. When was the last time you let yourself go?”

Frankie sighs. Santi’s right. “Who would watch Elena?”

“I already spoke with Yavonna last night,” Santi says, a tinge of hope laced in his voice.

“Let me talk to Elena-”

“Fish, she’ll be fine-”

Frankie holds his hand out to signal Santi to shut up. “Let me talk to Elena,” he repeats, “and let her know our plans for tomorrow night. You know I don’t do anything without running it through with her first.”

Santi’s face is happier than a toddler getting ice cream for breakfast. He claps him on his shoulder, “Fuck yeah, man! Frontier boys back at it again!”

Frankie grimaces. “Pope, cállate, por favor,” shut up, please, he says, pinching the bridge of his nose as he kicks Santi out for the night.

“Tell ‘Lena Tío Santi says buenas noches (good night) please since her daddy likes to kick me out so soon,” Santi taunts, a fake offended look on his face.

“No,” Frankie says. Then he shuts the door.

Frankie lets a few moments pass to make sure Santi was out of sight before he calls out to his daughter. “Baby, tío Santi wishes you good night!”

Elena comes running down the stairs. “He left already?!”

“Yeah, sorry kiddo,” Frankie frowns, meeting her at the end of the stairs to kiss her forehead.

“It’s okay,” she says. “You kicked him out again, didn’t you, daddy?”

“Y-yeah, yeah I did,” Frankie stutters. There’s no lying to this little Einstein.

“Hey, baby?” Frankie says again, crouching down to his knees to meet her level. “Do you remember Yavonna? Tío Santi’s girlfriend?”

Her gears turn before recognition sparks in her eyes. “Yeah!”

“Well, would you be okay if papi went out tomorrow? And you and Yavonna have a girls’ night?” He asks.

Elena’s smile turns mischievous as she pulls her dad in for a hug, whispering in his ear. “Are you going on a date?”

“Mmm, tío Santi is nice and all, but he’s too much a pain in my ass for me to wanna go on a date with him,” he retorts. “So, no, no date. Just spending some time with your annoying uncle and some of our other old friends.”

“Oh, okay,” Elena says as she giggles. “Have fun, papi!”

“I will, baby, thank you,” he says, pulling her into one last hug before they both venture off to bed.

It’s Monday morning, one week before the semester starts, and Frankie is buzzing. He’s nervous and excited for his daughter, but he can tell this new environment is one that gets heavily involved—in both the child and the guardian’s life.

He’ll do anything for Elena, of course, and it isn’t like he wasn’t involved at her old school. But this one makes it feel like he’s also attending this place. The thought terrifies his socially anxious heart.

He puts his car in park and practices a few breathing exercises before he gets out. He has a meeting with the principal today—Ms. Sabatino?, he tries to remember. This meeting is for her to finally get to know him, and for the paperwork to get finalized. And because they aren’t charging him for this semester, he also needs to fill out some waivers.

He makes his way to her office, checking in at the front desk and waiting to be pulled back. His hand fidgets at his side, the nerves getting to him again.

“Mr. Morales?” A voice calls out, pulling him from his nerves. “Ms. Sabatino is ready for you, first door to your left.”

“Thank you,” he replies. He softly knocks on the door before entering.

“Mr. Morales! Come in, come in!” Ms. Sabatino waves him over. “Sit, make yourself comfortable! It’s so nice to finally meet you.”

“It’s nice to meet you as well, ma’am, and please, just Frankie is good,” he tells her, a slight shyness in his voice and demeanor.

“Okay then, Frankie,” she smiles. “Let’s see here,” she says, squinting to her computer. “Do you have the enrollment forms?”

“Yes, right here,” Frankie sets the folder in front of her.

“Perfect, thank you,” she replies. “Here, you fill these waiver forms out that we talked about while I upload your forms in for Elena’s profile.”

Frankie mutters a quick okay, sounds good, before Ms. Sabatino speaks again. “While we get through these formalities though, did you have any questions for me? About the program, the teachers, literally anything at all besides what the meaning of life is?” she tries to joke, sensing Frankie’s anxiety.

Mrs. Adams already gave him the rundown of this place, but the financial conversation has been clouding his mind since he first found out about this place. “Well, actually, yes, I wanted to talk to you about the cost,” he starts.

“The cost is no issue, I promise you,” she reassures. But it’s not that. Although Frankie has major social anxiety, he’ll be damned if he comes off as a freeloader—even though absolutely no one here views him that way.

“No, I understand, but it’s more so that-” he pauses, taking a deep breath before he tries again. “I’m a single dad. I’m the one catering for both Elena and I. We’re not very well off, but we’re also not entirely poor. Just enough to…not really afford this place,” he shakes his head, he’s rambling. “Anyway- sorry. What I’m trying to say is, money isn’t an issue, but I can’t just sit here and not do anything to pay you guys back, even if it isn’t in a monetary sense.”

This piques the principal’s interest. She nods her head, taking a moment to measure her response. The computer pings as she thinks to herself, signaling that it’s done uploading the forms. She hands Frankie the folder back. He takes it, handing her the completed waiver. “I respect it,” she finally states. “A lot.”

“Y-yeah,” he says, not really sure how to respond to that.

Ms. Sabatino spins in her chair, pausing towards a drawer underneath her desk. She pulls out a little booklet of some sort.

“I have one idea,” she offers.

Frankie’s ears perch up. “Yeah? Anything,” he replies.

“It’s a lot to ask of a parent,” she says. “And I know you’re eager, but hear me out before you agree. And if you’d like to say no, then say no, that’s all I ask.”

“Deal,” Frankie tells her.

“So, last semester, the head of our PTA—the Parent-Teacher Association—quit on us. She quit and also unenrolled her child. Some weird drama, it was very unavoidable if she knew how to communicate properly… anyway, we are actually in need of a new head. I will admit, it’s a lot, but you’ll have me by your side, and I know a few of the parents would help show you the ropes and help you with anything you need.”

Out of everything, Frankie was not expecting this. It’s evident in the shocked look on his face.

“Like I said, I don’t need an answer right now-”

“What about the existing PTA parents?” Frankie blurts out. He may have not been PTA-level involved with his daughter, but he knows the seriousness in which parents take their roles when it comes to this.

“I appoint the head, and choosing one out of all of them would… to be frank… be a bloodbath. This PTA needs a fresh face. A new perspective. I can tell you’re nervous, but I can also tell you’re ambitious. I can tell you’d do anything for your daughter first and foremost. That is what my PTA needs. The rest of those parents- God- I love them, but they’re more worried about looking good and their brownie points with me than their kids’ experiences.”

If Frankie was unsure before, he definitely isn’t now. All he wants is the best for his daughter, and honestly, it makes him disappointed to hear where these parents’ priorities are. He’s absolutely scared shitless about doing this, but he can’t stop the next words that come out of his mouth. “I’ll do it.”

Her eyebrows fly up. “Are you sure?”

He isn't, he thinks. “Yes,” he tells her.

“Oh- okay, then,” Ms. Sabatino smiles bigger than before. She picks up the booklet from earlier and hands it to Frankie. “Read this over- they’re just some little rules we’ve established to keep the environment thriving for our kids. We’ve never had any issues before…besides last semester… but yeah, it’s just a precautionary measure. Thank you so much again, Frankie, and please if it does get too much, do not hesitate to let me know if you’d like to quit.”

He looks down to the book in his hand. The Rebels Guide - PTA Addition. He’s definitely not cut out for this. “Thank you, Ms. Sabatino. I’ll let you know. And I really appreciate you considering me for this. You have a good rest of your day,” Frankie says as he exits.

What the fuck am I doing? He thinks to himself as he gets himself into his car.

The rule book stares at Frankie as he drives. Stopped at a red light, he decides to place it in the glove compartment of his car. He’ll grab it later. For now, he needs it out of his view before he spirals.

Saturday, August 17th. Semester Pregame Day.

You’re in the middle of picking out your outfit when a flood of texts come through your phone.

[5:47PM Linda] You bitches ready?!

[5:48PM Leah] I’ve been ready, just waiting on Mr. Lightweight to get here…

[5:48PM Blake] Yeah okay, I’m not giving you a ride anymore, good luck.

[5:49PM Leah] Blake, I’m kidding, get your ass over here.

[5:49PM Blake] I’ve been outside, smartass.

[5:53PM Leah] Linda, we’re on the way to you. Ms. Powerhouse, are you sure you don’t want a ride?

[5:55PM] Please do not call me that.. And yes, I’m sure! I’m still picking out what I’m gonna wear to be honest. I think I’m gonna be a few minutes late.

[5:56PM Linda] OOOOO GIRL ARE YOU TRYING TO GET LAID?

[5:57PM Leah] 👀

[5:57PM Leah] Blake is driving, but he also would like to say: 👀

[5:58PM] Umm. No. I can’t make myself look nice for my friends?

[5:58PM Linda] In this world? Not without a motif, no.

[5:59PM] Wow.

[5:59PM] Okay, I’ve gotta finish getting ready. See you guys in a bit.

You toss your phone on your bed, not wanting to make yourself any later than you already are. They are right, you don’t necessarily have to get all dressed up. And it’s not like you’re getting laid anytime soon, let alone tonight. Right? Gosh, it’s been a hot minute since you’ve had any action. Well, okay, if you count your trustee wand, then it’s been about an hour since you’ve got some… but human interaction? Yeah, no.

You shake away the deprived thoughts your new friends planted in your brain settling for a sage green tank top with a lace lining at your chest. Something casual yet not too casual, slightly flashy but not too flashy. And since it’s in the middle of August, you decide on some black jean shorts.

It’s 6:15 by the time you head in your car. They wanted to get there around 6:30, so you’re not too far behind after all. It definitely helps that the bar they chose was a seven minute drive.

When you enter the bar, you spot the trio immediately, huddled by a tall table, all already cheering with shots. Linda spots you with a squeal, sending Leah to grab another round with a fourth shot this time.

With the mischievous party glint in her eyes, already you can tell what kind of night you’re going to have. One that makes you think maybe you should’ve caught a ride.

The first shot goes down roughly, an immediate fiery burn sliding down your throat as Linda shoves a lime in your mouth afterwards. “Tequiiilllaaaa shootttsss!!” She sings, already on her fourth to your first.

The second and third round slides down much smoother, your entire body beginning to heat up from its effects. Tequila has always had a fast effect on you, making you buzzed after one shot and effectively fucking you up after the third. Maybe you were a lightweight. Nonetheless, you indulge in one more peer-pressured round from Linda before you settle on a sugary sweet mixed drink paired with a glass of ice cold water.

Linda disappears to the small dance floor while Blake convinces the people at the pool table to let him join. It’s just you and Leah at the table now, talking here and there, but mainly just watching the other two have their fun from afar.

“So how long have you guys been doing this?” You shout over the loud music. Once the clock hit 7pm, the music was definitely hitting the threshold for ear damage.

Leah looks at you with a genuine smile. She’s content watching her friends be social butterflies. She has them in her presence and that’s all that matters. “We’ve been doing this for a few years now, really. Linda was at the school first, then I got hired a semester after her. Then Blake got hired a semester after me. And because we were all relatively new, we all just sort of- gravitated towards each other,” she explains. “I don’t know what I’d do without them, honestly. In and outside of the school, those two are very important in my life,” she breathes in a sniffle, quiet enough to go unheard, but since you’re watching her, you catch it in combination with a tear she sneakily wipes away.

It’s your turn for your eyes to gloss up. “That’s really beautiful,” you tell her.

Leah laughs a little. “Yeah. But don’t tell them though. I’ll have to strangle you,” she says in a mock sternness. Weirdly enough, you think there’s truth behind that.

You pull your hands up in a surrendering motion, “Promise,” you respond with a smirk. “I’m gonna go get another drink. Want?”

“What are you getting?”

“Was honestly just gonna sip on beer and water the rest of the night. I’m tapped out.”

“Me too,” she grins. “I’ll get what you get.”

Making your way up to the bartender, you politely wait until she comes up to you. “What can I get you, doll?”

“Two beers, please, and also two waters, but can you give me the waters after I set the beers down at my table?” you ask a little shyly.

The bartender gives you a sweet smile. “I got you, honey.”

She hands you the beers, and you make your way to Leah. “I gotta grab the waters real fast, give me one second,” you say, already whipping around and making your way back.

In that short span of time, the bartender was met with a crowd of needy newly aged adults, swarming her with requests. She looks at you, but you give her a nod, signaling it’s okay.

Two minutes, she mouths.

You sit down on the stool in front of you while you wait, turning to check on Leah. Her eyes are back on her friends, a warmth radiating from her smile. Only now, you’re a part of her rotation, and the warmth is reciprocated to you, too. And to think you were hesitant with this bunch.

As you sit and wait for the bartender, a group of four rowdy men take up the bar space beside you. One of them even bumps into your side, and you’re quick to jump. “Hey, watch it!” You yell over the noise.

A large hand grabs onto the guy’s shoulder and pulls him away from you. The bar is loud, but it doesn’t stop his deep gruff from blessing your ears. “Benny, watch where you’re fucking going, man!”

“Oh, shit,” the tall, lean man turns to you. “I’m so sorry, I wasn’t paying attention..” he starts. You can feel the man fight for his life to stay on your eyes. He darts to your lips for a millisecond before he brings them back up. “Can I… Let me buy you a drink? To apologize?” He smirks like he just pulled the smoothest flirt attempt ever. Your eyebrows furrow in annoyance, but before you can say anything, the large hand from earlier is pulling the man—Benny, apparently—away from you and to the other end where their other friends are. “Pendejo,” he mutters under his breath towards his friend.

You stifle a giggle. The man, your savior, finally actually looks at you, and at first he was going to ask if you understood what he said, but the moment your eyes meet, it’s like all the airflow was vacuumed clean out of his lungs, leaving him mentally gasping like a fish out of water. Physically, though, he keeps it cool. Or, at least, tries to.

“Hi- uh, I’m- I’m Frankie- look, I’m real sorry about my friend back there, he can be real stupid sometimes,” he mutters, his rosy cheeks bright on display, no alcohol to blame it on.

As he rambles, only then are you able to get a good look at this man—at Frankie, he calls himself. A baseball cap sits on his head, hiding what you can make out as curly hair. The dim light of the bar ruins your view slightly, but you are both near the warm light that emanates from the side of the bar, so your view is not completely obstructed. You can see beautiful brown, puppy dog eyes with a pretty scruff that grows haphazardly across his cheeks and jaw, and above his lip, too.

“Don’t worry about it, Frankie,” you manage as you look up at him. He’s still standing. You’re sitting on an elevated bar seat, and you still have to crane your neck. Good lord, he’s tall. You introduce yourself with a smile, holding your hand out for him to take. You have to fight your body not to shudder at the warmth of his hand.

Little do you know, he’s also fighting the same battle as you.

“Can I get you a drink, Frankie?” you ask. Usually you’d never do this, but there is just something about him. You need to know more.

“Uh,” you see him flush, an internal battle going on in his brain. Is it the battle of the so-called bro-code where he can’t hit on you because his friend did or because he should be offering you a drink?

He looks back to his friend. Yup, the bro-code. You quirk your brow at him.

“Yeah, okay,” he says with a grin as he perches himself to the bar seat beside you. “I’ll have a beer,” he tells you.

“Coming right up,” you smirk, winking at him before you try and regain the bartender’s attention.

You text Leah a quick I’m sorry, to which she replies with the eyes emoji again along with a winky face. Of course she saw everything.

The bartender comes to you and apologizes for earlier with the other group and then apologizes again when she admits she completely forgot to come back to you. She tells you this round of beers for you and Frankie are on the house. You try to tip her, but she doesn’t accept.

Frankie is really nice. Really handsome…and sexy…but you try to ignore the heat tingling between your legs because of the fact that Frankie is really nice.

As your two beers listen in on your conversation, untouched and sweaty, you’ve come to learn a good amount about Frankie. Like the fact that he’s a bashful boy, but you can tell he has no problem getting what he wants when the confidence strikes him. You’ve been witness to it a few times tonight—a hand on your knee there, a tucking of your hair behind your ear here, a long glance at your lips as you lick the residual drip of your drink—and it does nothing to calm your core’s ache.

The one that really sent you over the edge though was when he made you laugh particularly hard, your reaction was to lean into him. He took the opportunity to grab onto your seat and pull you against him, his thick highs entrapping both of yours.

“Oh-!” you gasp involuntarily, your eyes immediately searching for his. His gaze is dark, and so is yours.

Although quite nervous, Frankie’s confidence has spiked being in your presence. His thumb and forefinger come up to your chin, steadying and making your heartbeat erratic all in one. He leans closer in, the tips of each of your noses a hair’s width away. “You’re intoxicating,” he whispers.

“I could say the same thing about you,” you whisper back, feeling lightheaded and not from the alcohol coursing through your veins. “Been dying for you to touch me since you pulled your friend away,” you admit.

You see his Adam's apple bob in his throat. He looks past you, eyeing the single stall bathroom. You scanned the place earlier, you know where he’s looking. Tapping his thigh for him to look at you again, you give him a look of understanding before you break away from his grasp.

He faces the bar again, taking a deep breath to calm himself down. He catches Santi and the Millers staring at him from the pool table they took over. Santi shoots Frankie a wink while Benny looks like a puppy who’s been kicked to the curb. Frankie really couldn’t care less right now.

Satisfied with the little window of time he gave, he stands from his seat, taking one more swig of beer before he makes his way to you. He knocks on the door softly, and you open it right away, pulling him in and immediately shutting it again.

Like a calculated dance, his hand goes back to lock the door while your hand grasps onto the fabric of his shirt at his chest, pulling his body flush against yours. Your hands take their time in coasting the plain of his broad chest and shoulders. Your thighs clench at the sensation.

His lips meet yours for the first time tonight, and he can feel every nerve in his body spark with electricity. Your lingering taste of all the drinks you had this evening mixed with a flavor he thinks is distinctly you consumes each of his senses.

Oh, you have him wrapped around your pretty little finger and you don’t even know it yet.

He walks forward, backing you into the bathroom sink.

You hop up on your own, your legs spreading without any forethought for his broad form. His hands coast the expanse of your body, settling at your ass on the counter as he pulls you tighter into his body, your center coming into contact with this hardness. He practically growls into your mouth at the heat he feels radiating from you.

“Fuck, querida,” he moans, his teeth chasing your bottom lip.

“Frankie,” you beg. For what, you’re not entirely sure.

“Can I taste you?” He breathes heavily against your lips, fingers twitching to take action.

Fuck. “Ye- yeah- yeah, okay,” you stutter, eyes wide. Getting eaten out probably has to be one of your favorite things in the whole world, yet, with your dating history, it’s a rare occurrence. Your last boyfriend was disgusted by it, and your last girlfriend ended up cheating on you. So. Your experience of receiving oral was rare, and God did you miss it.

Frankie mistakes your surprise as fear. “Are- are you sure? I don’t have to, not if you’re not comfortable,” he says sincerely. He starts to pull away, not wanting to make you uncomfortable, but you’re quick to grab onto him.

“No, no, I’m sorry, that’s not what I-” you laugh a little breathlessly before looking into his soft eyes again. “Yes, Frankie, please. Please, I want your mouth on me,” you say, tone a little needy on the backend. “You just took me by surprise, is all,” you whisper.

“Surprise?” He can’t stop his curiosity.

“I- I don’t know, guys don’t usually like-”

You don’t get to finish your statement before Frankie’s face turns angry. He places a heady kiss to your lips before he brings his mouth down your jaw, your neck. “So what you’re saying is,” he starts, his breath tickling your neck. If you weren’t propped up on the counter, you’d be on the floor with how weak your legs feel. Making his way down, he places a soft kiss in between your breasts. “This pretty little thing hasn’t been treated properly in a long, long time?” He asks as he kneels down, his eyes looking up and devouring you in your entirety.

“How do you even know she’s pretty?” You quip back, matching his energy.

“Oh, I know she’s fucking gorgeous based on the rest of you,” he purrs, fingers working your button and zipper. He hooks his fingers at the waist, and you lift your hips to help him.

“You flatter me,” you shakily say as you try to tease, your resolve starting to break.

Frankie smirks up at you before his entire demeanor changes upon seeding your exposed lower half. His face falls into astonishment, as if he just won the damn lottery, as if his last fucking meal was just placed in front of him. “What’d I say?” He mutters to himself. “Fucking gorgeous,” he answers his own question before he gives you no time to respond as he dives right in, the flat of his tongue licking a slow wide stripe up your glistening went cunt.

“Oh, fuck,” a loud moan leaves you, your head falling back as you relish in the immediate pleasure that shoots up your spine.

Frankie reluctantly breaks away to look at you, to check up on you, but your body is still shocked from the pleasure, and he grins, cheeks full of mischief. He hums to himself before he goes back in. “Fucking delicious, too.”

“Jesus, shit-” you murmur, trying to brace yourself for what you know is going to utterly ruin you.

He licks through your folds once more, slow and steady, calculated, measuring every small twitch and whimper that your body produces. His tongue moves up to your clit, circling around the area reveling in the way your breathing speeds up and your hips buck. Even with your movements chasing for more, he remains steadfast in his ministrations.

He continues his tease until he hears you huff. You’re getting impatient. “Baby, please,” you whine. “Please don’t tease,” you pout at him then, and whether it’s real or a ploy to get him to give in, how can Frankie say no to that face?

Without lifting from your cunt, Frankie switches from slow passes around your bud to attaching directly on it, suckling and flicking the sharp tip of his tongue across you. Your legs writhe under his expert touch, your hand flying to the baseball cap to his head and flinging it off to rake your fingers through his wild curls. He groans into you the second he feels your grip, his pace faltering for just a moment before he finds his way again.

Frankie detaches from you, dragging his tongue downward to your folds to lap up your slick. The squelch your pussy makes when his tongue makes contact is sinful. He lets his mouth wrap as much as he can around you, his tongue prodding at your entrance, testing your limits.

“Oh, Frankie, yes-” you lament, your hand pulling his face tight against your core as your hips force his pink muscle inside. His cock is definitely at full mast now, especially with how reactive you are for him. Your eyes are entirely white as you repeat his name like a prayer, your hips frantically meeting the thrusts of his tongue.

You grip tighter into his locks, angling his head slightly down, and fuckfuckfuck you squeal loudly, this angle causes his nose to nudge at your sensitive nerves perfectly with each push of his tongue inside of you.

“I’m c-close, Frankie- fuck- I’m gonna cum, baby, I’m gonna fucking cum- oh my God-” you practically scream, your body losing all strength as you fall back into the counter behind you, Frankie licking everything up while he tries to fuck you through your orgasm.

The vibrations of his moaning sends you into overdrive, and you’re so spaced out you don’t even realize Frankie’s been desperately humping nothing, bringing himself to an orgasm the same time as you. He lifts off from you completely, his breathing labored as his chin threatens to drip your arousal to the ground. Frankie’s fingers reach for his face, collecting up the residue only for him to bring it back up to his mouth. The sound of him sucking his fingers up like he just ate the sauciest of wings brings you back to reality, pulling your body up weakly as your eyes go wide when you realize what Frankie’s doing.

Your cheeks heat up, but your ability to tease is back. “That good, huh?”

“Finger lickin’, baby,” he says lazily.

He rises from his knees only for you to then notice the wet spot at his crotch. “Frankie-” you start.

“Yes, yes I did,” he finishes, knowing the question you were going to ask.

He bends down to pick up his hat, swiftly placing it back on his head while he grabs your shorts, putting them gently back in place.

“You okay?” He checks in.

You melt under his sweet attention. “Never better,” you beam.

You two stand there in each other’s presence before you finally pipe up. “So how do you wanna…” you trail off.

“You wanna head out first? I got a bit of a… mess to clean up anyway,” he says, gesturing to himself.

“Oh! Right, yeah. Okay,” you say awkwardly, as if his tongue wasn’t just inside of you. “I’ll see you out there,” you add as you turn around, opening the door just enough to slip out.

You stand there for a moment, giving yourself a second to register what the fuck just happened. You did not let a man you just met go down on you? At a bar, no less?!

You make your way to the bartender, needing an ice cold glass of water to cool you off. Your head is spinning, and it’s really not because of the alcohol anymore. But you blame the substance anyway.

Hearing the bathroom door creak, you turn around to see a blushing Frankie, his hat off his head and his hand shielding the wet patch between his legs. He sees you at the bar and he smiles, walking in your direction. However, before he can reach you, Linda magically appears in your face, drunk as shit and louder than you’ve ever experienced.

“There you are, silly!! Where’d you run off to?? Been looking for you, I swear it’s been like an hour!!!”

You look at Frankie over her shoulder, and he pauses in his tracks. You give him an apologetic smile. Before he can say it’s okay, the friends he was with finds him and drags him into a game of pool.

“Hey, sorry!” You scream over the music. “Just needed some time, it got a bit too loud in here,” you lie. You’re too overstimulated—in many ways as your clit throbs against the fabric of your wet panties—to handle more ridicule from these three. “I think I’m gonna head home now, though, I’m kind of tired,” you tell her. “Where’s Blake and Leah?”

She drags you back to your guys’ table, urging one more round of shots. You go with her to the bar to order the round, mouthing to the bartender to make yours water. She winks at you, and hands you your glass directly while Leah impressively holds the other three with a drunken ease.

When Frankie finally spots you, happy and laughing with your friends, he smiles to himself and decides not to interrupt your time. He can find you later.

Except, he doesn’t.

Monday, August 19th.

Sunday was a blur. It was spent downing more water to flush out your body while surfing every account on every social media platform you have for a Frankie in your area.

No luck. Of course.

Frankie’s Sunday was spent the exact same way, too, although he is much less tech savvy and his attempt only lasted an hour before he gave up and spent the rest of his day moping.

“¿Qué pasa, papi?” What’s wrong, daddy? Elena had asked him as she scarfed down her eggs.

“Estoy bien, mi amorcito,” I’m okay, my love, Frankie responded with a kiss on her head.

Elena didn’t bug further, but he knew she would soon.

Monday morning, Elena was way too eager for her new school, forcing her father up and making breakfast an entire hour before they actually needed to get up. Somehow, Elena even convinced Frankie to leave the house half an hour before they needed to leave, forcing them to wait in the empty parking lot until any sign of life emerged.

Elena buries her nose in a book, while Frankie sat there, watching the minutes tick by. As he stared at the building, red accents and Home of the Rebels painted in big white letters, he’s suddenly reminded of what Ms. Sabatino asked him.

He reaches over and grabs the handbook out of the glove compartment. He flips open to the first page to the table of contents, and the first section, written in italicized, bold letters catches his eye:

Ground Rules

He flips to the page.

He scans through each bullet point, each one feeling more and more like common sense, but with the way the principal described these parents, he realizes how necessary these so-called rules are.

His eyes scan the last bullet point, and he can’t help but bite back a laugh.

No parent-teacher relations. Parent will be kicked off the PTA. Teacher will be reprimanded. NO exceptions.

He flips through several more pages when Elena lets out a piercing shriek. “AHH! DADDY, DADDY, LET’S GO,” she’s jumping up and down as much as she can while being belted in her car seat. Frankie looks up to see a bustling crowd of children and their guardian. He sees Ms. Sabatino in the mix.

“Alright, alright, mi vida (my life), I’m coming,” Frankie soothes, giving a softer tone of voice that hopefully she mirrors. He gets out of the car and opens the passenger door behind him, unbuckling Elena and setting her down to the ground, grabbing her backpack and shuffling it onto her back.

Ms. Sabatino catches sight of Frankie and Elena, and excitedly makes her way over. She bends down to Elena’s level. “Good morning!! You must be Elena Morales, yes?”

“YES-” she stops herself and clears her throat. “Yes! Yes, that’s me!” She says, a decibel calmer.

Ms. Sabatino warms at her eagerness. “It’s very lovely to meet you, Elena, I’m Ms. Sabatino, the principal here!” She holds out her hand for Elena to shake. She takes it eagerly.

“It’s very nice to meet you!” Elena emphasizes, putting on her best charm. Frankie chuckles.

Ms. Sabatino rises. “Mr. Morales, it’s great to see you again!” He nods his head with a smile and a soft likewise. “May I walk you both to her class? I’d like to introduce you to her new teacher,” she directs the question towards both of them.

Elena looks elated. She turns around to look her father in the eye, Frankie’s very own signature puppy dog eyes reflected back to him. He doesn’t even need to hear the question to know what her answer would be if she pulls this card. “Oh, papi, please will you come?”

“Of course, baby,” he says, caressing the apple of her cheeks before she cheers in victory.

“Great!” Ms. Sabatino says with a clap to her hands. “Right this way.”

On the way to Elena’s new class, Ms. Sabatino really praises her new teacher. Apparently, she’s the best of the best. One of their newest hires, but she’s practically a veteran when it comes to teaching prodigal children. She’s a powerhouse, Ms. Sabatino calls her. He gets the feeling that the teacher doesn’t really like that label much.

When Ms. Sabatino opens the door to his classroom, the teacher is immediately there to introduce herself and welcome in little Elena.

Frankie really doesn’t know what happens next besides the fact that his heart thoroughly stops and Elena’s voice is a muffled daddy, what’s wrong? throughout his panicked mind.

What’s wrong? He thinks.

What’s wrong is that Elena’s new teacher is you.

And he is absolutely, wholeheartedly, positively screwed.

Fuck.

I hope you liked the first chapter of my new series, New Beginnings!🥹🥹 I poured everything I have into this story, and I’ve been so eager to share it with the rest of you. I hope you are able to love it as much as I do.

Follow & turn on notifs for @endlessthxxghtsnotifs to know exactly when a new chapter comes out!🫶

Comments/reblogs or any kind of feedback to let me know what you think is my favorite part about putting out a story!! Please let me know your thoughts!!! I love you all so much, and thank you for the endless support you all show me. I wouldn’t be here without you.

Floral dividers on top & bottom courtesy of @saradika-graphics <3 section dividers in middle of fic made by me!

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daisynik7 · 5 months

Text

Epilogue

Pairing: Aoi Todo x f!reader

Rating: Explicit - MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Word Count: ~4.7k

cw: switching POVs (reader is in 2nd person, Todo is in 3rd), established relationship, explicit language, smut – phone sex, PIV sex (cowgirl, doggy), nipple play, clitoral stimulation, lots of dirty talk, degrading language (use of the word slut), pet names (babe, baby, baby girl, good girl, princess, sweetheart)

Summary: All of what happens in four months of dating your new boyfriend slash past rival Aoi Todo, leading up to Takada-Chan’s “Winter Wonderland”.

Author’s Notes: Things get explicit here! This is just a fun little bonus chapter to see our two idol fans going at it (literally). Hope you enjoy! Thank you everyone for all the love and support on this, I really appreciate it! Divider credit to @/saradika.

Previous Chapter | Masterlist

Tag List: @iwillbiteabitch

Dating Aoi Todo is never boring. If you’ve learned anything from this relationship so far, it’s that.

Also, taking things slow has proved to be much more difficult than you and Todo ever anticipated, especially when the two of you are alone together. That commitment is broken about a week into your budding relationship.

The night of the confession, you and your new boyfriend talked for hours while Sara slept on your couch as a watchdog. You didn’t dare try anything with your best friend right outside just a few feet away. To prevent temptation, you set up an air mattress for him as the night progressed, agreeing to sleep separately. The only physical contact you made was when you both feel asleep in your respective beds, holding hands. Cute, innocent, and wholesome.

After that night, you and Todo started texting every day. He is a man who loves sending good morning texts, along with an array of different emojis. His favorites are the smirking face (of course), the muscle flex (another of course), and surprisingly, the koala bear, which always leaves you with a goofy smile on your face whenever you see it.

Four days after the confession, there is a late-night phone call that lasts over three hours, covering different topics from favorite foods (his is skirt steak, yours is salmon nigiri), ideal date ideas (both of you said a Takada-Chan concert), and pet peeves (he said boredom, you said passive aggressiveness).

This call also may or may not have ended with phone sex.

You and Todo just finished discussing your favorite movies when he asks, “Aren’t you sleepy? It’s past one already.”

“I drank a lot of matcha today, so I’m still wide awake,” you explain, shifting around beneath your blanket.

There is silence on the other line and after a while, he finally says, “I can help you fall asleep. So, what are you wearing?”

You snort into the phone, laughing at his less-than-subtle attempt. “You can’t be serious right now.”

“Come on! Just play along!” He clears his throat and in a significantly lower octave, he repeats, “So…what are you wearing?”

You do your best to hide your giggles. “A t-shirt and pajama shorts.”

Even his smirk is audible through the phone. “Sexy.”

Cheeks getting sore from smiling , you comment, “Has anyone ever told you that you’re not very good at this?”

“I’m good at it! Come on babe, you’re ruining the mood. Just…let me get in the groove.”

Growing impatient from his feeble attempts, you take matters into your own hands. “Why don’t you think about me in that mini skirt you like so much. The one from Takada-Chan’s birthday. I know how much you like that.”

“Okay,” he replies quietly, some movement evident on his end.

“You’re supposed to show me how rough you like it, remember?”

“Yeah,” he blurts out, starting to breathe heavily. “Can we do that one time? Please?”

Hearing him beg arouses you, hand reaching between your legs, spreading them wider beneath the covers. Feeling too brazen at this point, you purr, “Only if you can make me come right now.”

He whispers your name under his breath, followed by a husky, “Fuck. Tell me what you want to hear.” There’s movement against cloth and you can only imagine now that he’s touching himself, palming the bulge straining inside his briefs.

You shove your panties down your legs, rubbing circles around your clit. “Tell me how you want to fuck me in that skirt.” You’re already wet with arousal, though you don’t tell him that yet, keeping it a naughty secret to reveal when the time is right.

“I want you to ride me in that fucking skirt. Want to bounce you on my fat cock.” His growl is guttural, too fitting for a grade-A beefcake like him. Of course he sounds this sexy when he’s turned on, and of course you’re falling fast for it.

Desperate to hear more, you goad him. “Yeah? What else?”

He swears harshly again, loving the way you coax him into being bad. “Want to suck on your tits while you’re bouncing on me. Want to play with your clit until you squirt all over my cock.”

“Fuck, I’m touching myself right now,” you whine, squirming against your fingers.

His voice is erratic, trembling with frenzy, gradually losing himself to the pleasure. “Yeah? Imagine my big fucking thumb on your pretty clit, rubbing it so fucking fast until you come on my big dick.”

“I’m so wet for you, so creamy for you.” You’re salivating, drool leaking from the sides of your mouth, fingers squelching lewdly between your thighs.

“Spread it all over,” he demands. If you listen closely enough, you can hear the rapid strokes of his cock within his fist. “Do it, slut.”

You obey his orders, sliding your middle finger up and down your slit, collecting your slick to smear it over your throbbing bud, so close to your orgasm. In a daze, you moan his name, letting is roll off your tongue.

He jerks himself off to completion, coming from the sweet sounds of his name from your mouth. In between heavy breaths, he grunts harshly. “Fuck. I just came. Sorry.”

You giggle, slowing the pace of your fingers, teasing him. “I thought you were the one that offered to help mefall asleep?”

Embarrassed, he says, “I know, I’m sorry. I just didn’t expect you to say my name like that. That really got me.” There’s more shuffling in the background as you picture him inspecting his own mess. “Holy shit, I came a lot.”

“You should go to bed. You’re probably sleepy now.”

“No, not yet. I have to make you come still,” he offers, determined.

“It’s fine.”

“No. I need to make you come tonight so I can fuck you in that skirt. It’s going to happen.”

You learn that when Todo is determined to do something, he does it. He is a man that, when given any challenge, will do his damn best to complete it no matter what.

~~~

Not counting the phone sex, Todo could confidently say that they have been successful in taking things slow. That is, until a few days after the infamous phone sex, when all hell breaks loose.

It begins when his girlfriend decides to host a Takada-Chan concert marathon. The pop idol kicks off her international tour a week after Todo’s confession. To honor the start of it, she invites him, Sara, and Yuji to eat a bunch of delicious food and binge watch all Takada-Chan’s concerts available on streaming platforms. Sara and Yuji stay a while, but after the fourth consecutive Takada-Chan concert, they have enough, leaving the couple alone to their own devices, which anyone could guess is not a good idea if they are still sticking to the “taking things slow” route.

As soon as their friends leave, the two give each other one glance before the kissing starts. He spent all day resisting the temptation to touch her in any way since they were with Sara and Yuji. It’s been an excruciating four hours considering how cute and irresistible his girlfriend is.

She slides her hands under his shirt, pawing at his eight-pack. He slips his tongue inside her mouth as he completely pulls his shirt off. She pulls back, gawking at his body with wide eyes and an open mouth, practically drooling for him. “Like what you see?” he teases, raising a brow at her. She nods her head, leaning in for more kisses.

Eventually, she whispers, “Wait.”

He stops, leaning back on the couch. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah. I just have a little surprise for you. Wait here.” She gets up and disappears into her bedroom, leaving Todo confused and concerned. After several agonizingly long minutes, she comes out. When he sees her, his jaw drops, blood rushing straight to his cock.

The mini skirt. She’s wearing the fucking mini skirt. Not only that, she’s also wearing the same blouse she wore at the café, the one that exposes her shoulders and plunging neckline. Essentially the same outfit he has fantasized about since. In one swift motion, he hoists her up onto his lap, spreading her legs so that she’s straddling him. “You’re such a good girl for me, huh?” he growls, scattering wet smooches all over her face. “Such a good girl.” He fondles her body beneath the skirt and to his shock and delight, she isn’t wearing any underwear. “Not even wearing any panties for me, you fucking slut.”

“Only for you,” she whispers, directing his giant hand to her pussy. “Do you feel how wet I am for you already?”

“Fuck,” he breathes out, pressing his thumb to her and drawing circles around her clit. A guttural moan vibrates from her throat, making him move his thumb faster.

“I want you,” he grunts, feeling fucking feral beneath her.

“You want to fuck me here on the couch?” She’s panting now as his fingers brush against her bud faster.

“Yeah, right here, right now. Show me that pretty pussy.” With his free hand, he lifts the hem of her skirt to put her on display, watching her melt away in the palm of his hand, thumb unyielding against her clit. It glistens with her slick and his dick get tighter and tighter in his pants from the mere sight of it.

She tugs at the waistband of his joggers to release his erection. There’s a thick bead of precum on the tip. She rubs her thumb on it, spreading it over the head, causing him to groan in pleasure. Somehow, she conjures up a bottle of lube and pours a generous amount straight onto him, then she slides her fist up and down his shaft. In this moment of pure ecstasy, he can’t help but thank the pop idol gods for bringing this goddess of a woman into his life. He slides his fingers inside her, relishing how wet she is. Everything is happening so fast; his carnal desires take control. “Fucking ride me,” he commands.

She gets up on her knees, guiding the tip of his dick to her fluttering hole. Slowly, she sinks down on him, moaning. This is the hottest thing he’s ever fucking seen in his life. “So tight for me. My good girl,” he coos, gripping at her hips and gently moving her further down his shaft.

“So big, baby. Oh my god,” she whines. Once he bottoms out, she grabs hold of his shoulders and rocks back and forth on his lap, adjusting to his size.

“Take the skirt off. Want to watch you fuck yourself on my fat cock.”

He tries to lift her up from his lap, but she shakes her head. “Don’t pull out. Feels so good. So good.”

Absolutely unhinged, Todo growls, “I’m going to rip this skirt off, then. Need to see your pussy creaming all over me.” He hooks to the waistband, easily ripping it along the seams, tossing it behind him. Smirking, he whispers, “That’s it. Just like that.”

“My skirt!” she cries out, shocked and aroused.

“I’ll buy you a new one, princess. I’ll buy you hundreds more so I can fuck you just like this.” He holds her waist again, setting the pace, thrusting his own hips into her. His eyes are glued to the shiny ring of her cum collecting on the base of his cock. “You’re so fucking hot, you know that? You wanted to get fucked in that skirt, huh? Such a slut for me.” He releases his tight grip on her as soon as she starts bouncing up and down on her own, digging her nails into the skin of his shoulders, fucking herself deeper. The sounds she makes are music to his ears.

He focuses on her clit again, massaging it with his thumb. She gasps, startling him. “You okay, sweetie?” He cups her cheek, caressing her skin softly.

“Yes, so fucking good!” Her eyes are half-lidded, mouth parted open, looking absolutely divine. She grabs at his wrist and puts her lips over his thumb, completely engulfing it into her sloppy mouth. She moves him in and out, swirling her tongue around him with each stroke.

He bites his lip to stifle a moan. It takes everything in his willpower to hold back his orgasm. The way she moans, the fucked out look on her face, the thumb sucking. It’s too much and not enough all at the same time. He pulls out of her mouth and switch hands to place his wet thumb on her clit, while the other hand, still glistening from her slick, glides underneath her blouse and up to one of her nipples. She isn’t wearing a bra.

“Such a fucking good girl,” he murmurs as he strips the blouse off her body. He squeezes one of her breasts and puts his lips around the nipple, sucking hard. With both her hands, she squeezes her tits together, leaning forward, feeding them to him.

“Yeah, want to feed me these big tits, huh baby? So fucking needy.” He buries his face in between her breasts, kissing her nipples one at a time.

“Suck them hard,” she whimpers. He alternates between each breast, sucking hard until each nipple is taut and plump between his pursed lips.

Mouth hot on his ear, she purrs, “Baby, I’m so close.”

“Come for me, beautiful. Come all over my cock.”

With his lips latched onto her breasts, thumb relentless on her clit, and cock deep in her pussy, it’s no surprise when, after just a few more minutes, she throws her head back and cries out, “I’m coming!” She clenches around him, creating a sensation of pure ecstasy, he can’t help but orgasm right along with her. She moans as it continues, his thick cum filling her up, the excess dripping down the inner plush of her thighs. She collapses against him, panting and trembling slightly from the euphoric rush. Todo cradles her in a warm embrace, burying his face into her neck.

“You did so good, sweetie. So good for me. Thank you,” he muffles, breathing heavily against her skin.

“That was amazing,” she says, still slumped over Todo.

“You should go pee, baby. Don’t want you to get a UTI.”

“Just give me a few minutes. I’m tired.”

Todo, who is also exhausted from having the biggest orgasm of his life, gets up and carries his girlfriend bridal style into the bathroom. He plops her down on the toilet and turns the shower on. When he hears the distinct sound of a tinkle, he breathes a sigh of relief. No girlfriend of Aoi Todo will ever get a UTI from sex, not on his watch.

~~~

Once the floodgates open, nothing stops you and Todo from pouncing on each other every chance you get. The sex is always nothing short of amazing. Despite not being able to keep your hands off each other, you still try to keep PDA down to a minimum. But Todo, being the big bravado self he is, let’s his guard down a few times. He still grabs your ass in public, especially when you’re wearing dresses, shorts, or skirts. And honestly, after the first time, you intentionally started wearing skirts more often just to tease him.

Whenever you do indulge in the occasional kiss in front of your friends, Todo always gets carried away, shamelessly driving his tongue into your mouth. Normally, you love this, but only in private. Understandably, Sara always gives your boyfriend a whack on top of the head to get him to stop, which he does before muttering an embarrassed apology.

Besides the disgust over the occasional PDA, Sara and Todo get along great. They bond over working out, horror movies, and teasing you. Todo’s brother Yuji is your brother now too. He’ll ask you for advice when it comes to girls or his friendships. You ask him for advice on how to deal with annoying people at work, since Todo’s advice is always, “Just tell me their name and I will beat the shit out of them.”

As with any relationship, there are issues you two have to work through. When Todo first explains his job, you are convinced he is playing some bizarre prank on you. To be fair, someone describing themselves as a “Jujutsu Sorcerer” who “exorcises” evil curses sounds like something straight out of a shounen anime. When he demonstrate Boogie Woogie, where he manages to switch positions with Yuji in the blink of an eye, you are certain you are going crazy. After a few weeks of processing everything, with a lot of patience from Todo and moral support from Yuji, you can safely say you’ve made peace with understanding the gist of Todo’s profession. Of course, there is still plenty that you can’t grasp, but Todo’s confidence in himself relieves the stress caused by that uncertainty.

There are times of jealousy and insecurity on both sides that lead to fighting and arguments. When you start your full-time job after the summer, he gets jealous over one of your male coworkers training you for a week. Even after doing your best to convince him that it is strictly professional, he still can’t help himself from making snide remarks about your coworker at the end of the week. An issue that you’re still working on, and slowly getting better at, is trying not to be petty when you get annoyed with him. During this time, you just can’t help yourself.

Eventually, you manage to find the best way to shut him up.

It’s been two weeks since you started your new full-time job. This week, you worked with a coworker, Kenji Saito, for training. Saito is a man several years older than you who is married with kids. But none of this matters to Todo because he is still jealous. As you prepare dinner at his place, you mention, “Training went well. Saito said I should be ready for my first project next week.”

Todo grunts. “Saito. I’m surprised you’re not calling him by his first name yet. You two have been spending soooo much time together.”

You smile to yourself, unable to resist provoking him. “I barely call you by your first name. But if you want, I can start calling him Kenji.”

He moves behind you like a lion stalking his prey, growling in your ear. “Don’t do that.”

You turn to face him, his body towering above you, casting a daunting shadow. “What are you going to do about it, Aoi?”

As quickly as he moved behind you, he slings you over his shoulder, carrying you into the bedroom. He tosses you onto his bed, stripping off his clothes while you do the same, already wet against your panties. You’re laid on your back when he straddles you, the way he looms over you intensifies the growing sensation in your loins. He leans down to kiss you sloppily. “Only I get to do this to you, right? No one else?” he asks, between kisses.

“Yes, baby. Of course.”

“Then say it for me. Please.”

“Only you get to do this to me. Only you.”

He flips you over on your stomach and presses up against you, lips tickling your ear as he demands, “Say it. Say it again.” His cock throbs between your ass cheeks.

“Only you, Aoi. This pussy is only for you. Fuck,” you whimper, desperate to feel him inside you.

“It’s mine, huh? You’re my good girl. You’re my fucking slut. Say it.”

“I’m your good girl, Aoi. I’m your – “, you pause to catch your breath. “I’m your fucking slut.”

He gets off to reach towards the dresser next to the bed. As he does this, you get on your hands and knees, ready for what’s to come (literally). You crane your neck to watch him smear a generous amount of lube along his hard cock, causing you to lick your lips in anticipation. He tosses the bottle onto the floor and positions himself behind you.

You stick your ass out, back arched and ready for him. He slides the tip along the folds of your pussy, guiding himself in slowly. It’s times like these that you are reminded at how fucking huge your boyfriend is, and you love it. Once he’s to the hilt, he stops. “Shake your ass on my cock. You know how I like it.”

With your hands clenched to the sheets, you thrust yourself onto his dick, back and forth, back and forth. After you’re fully adjusted to his size, you pick up the pace, his cock easily sliding in and out with each thrust. “Just like that baby. Fuck. Wish I could take a video of this. You look so good on my cock. Doing such a good job,” he praises, watching you do all the work.

You continue to move yourself relentlessly on him, moaning loudly into the pillow. When you reach your climax, your back arches even more as you orgasm without saying anything. You don’t want him to know you came already as you keep on fucking him. Todo chuckles in his deep voice. You can almost feel the vibrations of his laugh against your throbbing pussy. “I know you came all over my cock, baby. You can’t fool me. You’re so wet. It’s dripping all over the sheets, nasty girl.” He reaches around to rub your clit, his fingers lubed up and wet with your cum.

“Fuck. Aoi. Oh my god, don’t stop. Oh fuck,” you whine.

“You’re so good to me, baby. So good. Taking it like a good girl,” he whispers, massaging your sensitive bud deeper. Your pace slows down, knees weak from your first orgasm. Todo places his free hand on your waist, spreading his fingers wide to grip at your skin. “Let me take over, baby girl.”

You let him, of course. He uses his hold on you to time the thrusts of his hips perfectly. Todo makes you orgasm twice more in this position before he releases himself inside you, filling you up to the brim with his creampie. He pulls out, his load making a mess on his sheets.

After you do your business in the bathroom, the two of you cuddle in bed, blissed out and exhausted. He turns towards you, kissing you on the forehead, apologizing. “I’m sorry.”

You hum, closing your eyes. “For what?”

“Being annoying,” he admits.

“And…?”

“Being jealous.”

“…And?”

He nuzzles his nose against yours. “For being an asshole.”

You smile, peaking at him with one eye open. “I’m sorry for being petty. I’ll work on not using that against you when you’re feeling upset about something.”

“To be fair, I wasn’t that upset. Like anyone can compete with me, right? Especially not Saito.” He makes a face when he says that name.

Still feeling a little naughty, you joke, “You mean Kenji?”

You immediately regret it as soon as he wrestles between the sheets, giggling hysterically as he tickles you to the point of tears.

~~~

It’s been four months since you’ve been dating Aoi Todo. Four months of amazing sex, occasional bickering reminiscent of the origins of your relationship, and new discoveries about each other that bring you closer than ever.

Now, you stand beside your boyfriend, waiting in line at the mall you first met at. Today, Takada-Chan is hosting a special Winter Wonderland event. Essentially, instead of taking a picture on Santa’s lap, Takada-Chan fans get to take a picture next to the pop idol in front of a snowy backdrop. After touring internationally the last few months, the singer planned an impromptu appearance at the mall of her hometown to celebrate the holiday season.

When it’s finally your turn, Takada-Chan greets you with that beautiful, bright smile. “My favorite couple! I’m so happy you made it! I was hoping to see you today.”

“Takada-Chan! We’re happy to see you, too. It’s been a while. How has the tour been?”

“Tiring. It’s nice to be back home for a little bit. Happy holidays! Oh! Todo, please go follow Haru, he’s going to give you a little something. Think of it as a special gift from me.” She winks. Todo bows deeply and follows Haru behind the set. You can’t help but smile to yourself noticing that your boyfriend is still speechless around the pop idol. Some things never change.

You decide to finally be honest with her. “Takada-Chan. You’ve been so good to us. I have to come clean about something. The first time you met Todo and I, we weren’t actually a couple. We were just faking it because you seemed to like us so much better together. I’m sorry.” You look at her nervously, praying to the pop idol gods that she isn’t too upset for the deception.

To your surprise, she smiles even wider, a twinkle in her eyes. “I know.”

“You know?!”

“I knew you two weren’t a couple. To be honest, I knew it was a bit risky on my end to play matchmaker, but I just couldn’t help myself! Who better to be together than two of my #1 fans?” She gives you another wink as you stare at her, mouth agape.

She continues. “Also, sweet Todo was convinced that I was his future wife. Poor guy doesn’t know I don’t swing that way. So, I wanted to steer him in the right direction to you. And now look. The fruits of my labor! The results are a beautiful harvest of love. You two are just as cute as I thought you’d be.”

Shocked, you stammer, “Takada-Chan…I really don’t know what to say. How can I…how can we repay you?”

She reaches her arms out to squeeze your shoulders. “I don’t need you to repay me! Anything for my fans.” Leaning closer, she whispers, “But tell me this: Who made the first move? You see, Haru and I had a little bet going since the two of your first visited my dressing room. Haru claims he won, since he saw Todo holding your hand at the big group date. I placed my bets on you, of course.”

“Well, actually, I kissed Todo that morning. So, you did win.”

The pop idol jumps up giddily. “You made the first move?! I knew it! That’s my girl! I love a woman who takes initiative! I’m going to pester Haru to give me my money back.”

“Thank you for everything, Takada-Chan. I mean it.”

“I’m happy for the both of you. Can’t wait to see you at my next event. DM me if you ever need anything!” With a hug, the two of you say your goodbyes.

You find an empty bench nearby to sit on while you wait for your boyfriend. Todo reappears from the back with two black t-shirts in hand. As he sits next to you, he unfolds the shirts so you can see the front. It’s a screen-printed photo of you, Todo, and Takada-Chan doing the Taka-tan beam in her dressing room.

“This is awesome! Our own special gift from Takada-Chan! I’ll cherish this forever. My two future wives in one picture,” he grins.

Laughing, you wrap your arms around him, giving him a passionate smooch on the lips. Blushing, he asks, “What was that for?”

“I just really wanted to kiss you.” You gaze into his eyes, smiling before saying, “Because I love you.”

His eyes widen. “What did you say?”

“I love you, Aoi.”

Suddenly, he picks you up and sits you on his lap, beaming. “You love me?”

“Yes. I love you!” You throw your arms around him in a warm embrace.

He buries his face into your neck, muffling, “I love you, too. I love you so much.” He holds your face in between his palms, kissing you square on the lips. “I love you,” he repeats, kissing you all over your cheeks, forehead, and neck. His hands roam down to your waist, pulling you closer to him.

Relationships are never perfect. People are never perfect. But this moment right now is perfect. Confessing your love feels natural. It makes sense. To think that this whole thing started off as a ridiculous rivalry and blossomed into a “beautiful harvest of love”, as a certain pop idol would say. It just proves that sometimes, finding love can start off silly and ridiculous. And with Takada-Chan playing matchmaking for you and Todo, you couldn’t write a better love story than this.

#aoi todo #aoi todo x reader #aoi todo smut #aoi todo x you #todo aoi x reader #todo aoi x you #todo aoi #todo aoi smut #todo smut #todo x reader #todo x you #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #idol fan wars

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writingwithciara · 3 months

Text

Look At Her- Matt Sturniolo

summary: y/n is nick’s best friend & chris has been in love with her for years. he gets distracted whenever she walks into a room. matt is the only one who doesn’t love her. however, that changes one day when they’re filming a video

word count: 5.6k

pairing: matt sturniolo x reader (romantic), nick sturniolo x best friend reader, chris sturniolo x reader (platonic)

notes/content: saw a post from @mattitties and got an idea for a fic, but I kind of switched the pov around a little bit. little bit of an argument somewhere near the middle, kind of angsty at parts, happy ending

masterlist

“Nicolas!” y/n didn’t even bother to knock as he entered Nick’s bedroom. The eldest triplet threw his phone down on his bed and held his chest.

“Jesus, y/n. You’re going to give me a heart attack if you keep doing that.”

“I do this every single time I come over. You should expect it by now.” She chuckled and sat on the edge of his bed.

“You’re right.” He smiled and joined her. “So, what’s up? What do you want?”

“What? Can’t a girl come see the best friend she missed?”

“You saw me last night.” Nick looked at her and shook his head. “What do you want?”

“I’m bored and needed some Nicolas time.”

“Who let you in the house?”

“I let myself in. Isn’t that why you guys gave me a key?” she smiled playfully.

“Matt gave you a key for emergencies, y/n.” Nick laughed again and stood up. “Wanna film a video with us tomorrow?”

“Always.” y/n sat up straight and smiled. “What’s it going to be?”

“It’s a surprise.” Nick smirked, piquing y/n’s interest more. “But, um, dress code is casual so just wear whatever. It’s going to be so fun.”

“Whatever you say, Nick.” y/n followed her best friend out of his room and to the kitchen where Matt and Chris were talking. Matt continued speaking, even when Chris stopped.

“Chris, what is going on with you? Are you even listening?” Matt asked.

“Of course, Nick.” Chris looked over to where y/n and Nick were sitting on the couch.

“What? I’m Matt, dumbass.”

“What? Oh, sorry.” Chris snapped out of his daze and looked over at his brother. “I apologize for not listening. Y/n walked by and I just….there’s something about her that I can’t get out of my head.”

“I still don’t see it.” Matt shook his head and followed Chris’ gaze. “She’s nice and I’m sure she’s someone’s type, just not mine.”

“What? She’s outstanding!” Chris gasped and looked at Matt. “I can’t believe you don’t like her.”

“I like her, just not the way that you do.” Matt patted his brother on the shoulder and went to the living room. Chris took a minute to compose himself before joining the trio in the living room. Y/n smiled and made room for him next to her on the couch.

“Nice of you to finally join us, Christopher.”

“Yes it is.” Chris sat down and mentally beat himself up for the awkwardness he exhibited. But when y/n smiled at him again, he felt like himself. Everything was normal.

“We’re filming a video tomorrow and y/n is gonna be joining us.”

“What’s the video this time?” Matt asked. Chris tried to pay attention to the conversation but after he heard that y/n would be joining them, he zoned out and focused all his attention on her. She didn’t notice and kept up the conversation with his brothers.

He couldn’t help but think of everything he wanted in his future and how badly he wanted her to be a part of it.

Later that night, y/n was chilling in Nick’s room alone when Chris walked in.

“Hey Nick, I was wondering if-“ he paused when he saw it was only y/n there. “Oh, hey.”

“Hey, Christopher.” She smiled. “What’s up?”

“Well, I was just wondering if you were staying here tonight so you don’t have travel back again in the morning.”

“I actually hadn’t even thought about that. But now that you mention it, maybe I should stay. I’m sure Nick won’t mind sharing his bed for one night.”

“Well, if he does mind, you can have my bed.” He smiled softly.

“I appreciate the gesture but I couldn’t do that.”

“If it makes you feel better, I slept in my bed last night and you know I don’t do that two nights in a row.”

“That’s a good point.” She set her phone down and gave him her full attention. “Who’s the unlucky one tonight?”

“I was thinking of sleeping in the living room but now I’m thinking it’s gonna be Matt.”

“Good choice. But if I’m sleeping in your room, you should sleep in here with Nick.”

“He would hate that.” Chris chuckled when an idea came into his head. “That’s exactly what I’m going to do then.”

“Sounds like a plan.” y/n smiled and grabbed her phone and charger.

“Alright, y/n. I got all your favorite snacks. Time for movie night.” Nick walked back into the room and set the food on the bed. When he noticed Chris standing in the room, he looked between them. “Oh. Did I just ruin a moment?”

“No, of course not.” y/n laughed and looked at Nick apologetically.

“Well then why is Chris in my room?”

“Hey, roomie. Guess who’s staying in here tonight?” Chris smirked. Nick gasped and looked at y/n.

“What the fuck is going on here?” Nick tried to be upset but he secretly loved it when other people slept in his room.

“I’m staying over tonight, for convenience & Chris offered me his bed for the night.”

“What? But he-“

“Is sleeping in here like we planned, Nicolas.” Chris shot his brother a look and Nick just nodded.

“Oh, of course. Completely forgot. Silly me.” Nick looked at the snacks on his bed. “Can you at least stay for a movie, y/n?”

“I would love to but I’m really tired and want to be rested for tomorrow’s video. Goodnight guys.” y/n waved and headed to Chris’ bedroom.

“Okay, why aren’t you sleeping in your room tonight?” Nick sat on his bed and raised his eyebrow. “Wait a second. You like her, don’t you? Are you jealous that she would’ve been sleeping in here with me?”

“What? Of course not. She’s my best friend.”

“Actually, Christopher, she is MY best friend. You’re just in love with her.”

“That’s what I meant.” Chris shook his head and looked back over at Nick. “Whatever. Let’s just go to bed so we can be well rested for the video.”

“You mean well rested for y/n?” Nick smirked and put his phone on the charger. Chris climbed into the other side of the bed and smacked his brother. “Just shut up and go to sleep.”

Later that night, y/n was wide awake. She felt weird sleeping in a bed that wasn’t Nick’s, even if it happened to be Chris’ bed. As close as she was to him, it was nowhere near as close as she had always been with Nick. And she knew he had a crush on her, whether he cared to admit it or not, but she could never bring herself to reciprocate those feelings. Not when she was just starting to realize how she had been feeling about Matt.

Something about him had drawn her attention but she didn’t understand why. He was moody 90% of the time she was around and he made her feel like sometimes she just didn’t matter to the triplets. Chris was the complete opposite of Matt and treated y/n like she was the most important person on the planet.

So why didn’t she have the same feelings for him that he did for her?

A sound from the kitchen startled her before she could argue with herself further and she decided, against her better judgement, to go investigate. She walked out to the kitchen and noticed the fridge was open but nobody was around. Grabbing the pan off the counter, she slowly approached the refrigerator. Matt popped up quickly and she nearly had a heart attack. She considered it karma for scaring Nick.

“Jesus, what are you trying to do? Beat me to death with a frying pan?”

“Me? What are you doing popping up like that? You nearly gave me a heart attack, Matthew.”

“Okay well in my defense, I didn’t know you were staying the night, nor did I intend to drop this bottle of ketchup.”

“The fact that you’re still holding the bottle is hilarious.” As she laughed, Matt tossed the bottle back into the fridge with a disgusted look on his face.

“It’s really not funny at all.” Matt tried to act serious but he couldn’t do it. He also began to laugh along with y/n. As their laughter died down, he looked at her for a moment and the way she looked at him, made him feel seen. “So, who’s room are you sleeping in?”

“The couch, actually.”

“What? Why would Nick make you sleep on the couch?“ Matt was about to offer her his bed instead but stopped when he saw her smile.

“Relax, Matthew. I’m actually sleeping in Chris’ room tonight.”

“Oh.” He looked at her and realization hit him. “Oh!”

“Not like that, jackass. He’s sleeping in Nick’s room tonight. He offered me his bed because he doesn’t sleep in the same place 2 nights in a row.”

“That’s not even true anymore because he actually slept in Nick’s room last night.”

“Then why would he offer his bed up to me?” she shook her head and thought for a moment. “Wait, he’s got a crush on me. How could I forget?”

“As if it wasn’t blatantly obvious.” Matt smirked. “Do you think he knows that you know?”

“No and let’s keep it that way until I can figure out how to let him down gently. He deserves that much.”

“Yeah I guess so.” He grabbed a water bottle from the fridge and peeled the label off. “So, why are you up so late?”

“Couldn’t sleep. It felt weird being in someone else’s bed.”

“Yeah I get that feeling whenever the boys and I have a sleepover in one of our rooms.” He looked at her. “So, was it weird sleeping in Jack’s bed when you guys dated?”

“Never actually slept in his bed, Matt.”

“If you’re talking about what I think you’re talking about, that’s gross.” He began to laugh quietly. “But you guys dated for like 2 years. You’re telling me you never slept at his place?”

“He was always over at my place. And he was very understanding of the whole thing too.”

“Well that’s good that you had someone like that.” Matt offered her a small smile and started heading back towards his room. “I hope you can get at least a little bit of sleep. I know what Nick wants to film tomorrow and you’ll want as much energy as possible for it.”

“Thanks, Matt. Good night.” y/n smiled to herself and returned to Chris’ room. Sleep came easily for her after that conversation with Matt.

The next morning, y/n was woken up by a soft knock on the door. She slowly rolled off the bed and answered it, not surprised to see Chris standing there.

“You didn’t have to knock, Chris.”

“I know but I figured you’d still be sleeping and I didn’t want to interrupt your beauty sleep. N-not that you need it anyway.” He began stumbling over his words and his cheeks felt like they were on fire.

“Thanks, Christopher.” y/n giggled a little and it made his heart soar. “I’ll be out in a few minutes. Just gotta get changed out of this.” She gestured to the outfit she had changed into last night. Chris looked down and noticed it was one of his favorite shirts.

“That my shirt?”

“Yeah. I hope you don’t mind but I didn’t plan on staying the night so I didn’t bring anything to sleep in. And I know I have clothes in Nick’s room but by the time I got there, you guys were already asleep so I just….decided to borrow one of your shirts instead. You don’t mind, do you?”

“No. Not at all.” He smiled. “It looks great on you, by the way.”

“Thanks.” The compliment caused her to blush and she turned away. “Just give me a few, okay?”

“We’ll be waiting patiently.” He nodded and walked out to the kitchen. “She’ll be ready in 5.”

“What’s got you so smiley today, Chris?” Matt asked.

“She slept in my shirt.” Chris couldn’t help the way his smile grew and didn’t care that his brothers were about to tease him. He knew he was in love.

“That’s cute. Our little Christopher has a crush.”

“No. He’s in love.” Nick corrected. “And I don’t blame him. She’s gorgeous and if I was straight, I’d be in love with her too.”

“I still don’t see it.” Matt chuckled and shook his head.

“How can you not, Matthew?” Chris was still shocked, but also a little relieved that Matt wasn’t into y/n. It meant he might finally have a shot with a girl for once in their lives.

“If anything, I think of her as a sister.”

“Are you sure your eyesight is perfect? Because you’re not making any sense right now.” Nick rolled his eyes at his brother then looked over towards the hallway when he heard the bedroom door shut.

“Okay. I’m ready to film. What are we doing today?” she stopped in the entryway and the boys looked up at her. She was wearing her jeans paired with one of Matt’s sweaters. It wasn’t unusual for her to wear the triplets clothes but this was the first time she was actually wearing something of Matt’s. She had all of their attention, specifically because of that. “What are you guys staring at?”

“Pardon our staring. It’s just that you’re wearing Matt’s sweater.” Nick walked over to her and grabbed her hand. “Let’s get ready to film.”

“Oh, I’m sorry Matt. Do you want me to take it off?”

“No. It’s fine, honestly.” He had to take a moment to swallow his drink. It also stopped him from saying something awkward and weird. “Let’s get to filming, shall we?”

“We shall.” Nick guided y/n over to the kitchen counter and handed her a blindfold. “Congratulations. You get to be blind for the video.”

“That doesn’t sound as fun as you promised me yesterday.” She pouted and looked at the three boys in front of her.

“Well, we figured with you being the smartest out of all of us, we should let you have the ability to hear and talk so we can get through this baking video with as little of a mess as possible.” Matt smiled and put the bandana across his mouth. Nick and Chris both put headphones on and Matt handed y/n the cake mix.

She struggled with opening it so Matt did it for her. Chris noticed how close Matt was standing and started to get jealous. He saw y/n’s lips move and she looked towards Nick or where she assumed he was. She started to speak again but neither of them could hear anything so Matt had to ask them without saying a word.

“DUDE I’VE NEVER BEEN DEAF BEFORE! THIS IS FUN!” chris shouted, louder than expected, causing y/n to jump a little closer to Matt. He grabbed her arm gently and continued helping her in any way he could. She mumbled a ‘thank you’ to whoever was helping her. Chris watched this and was suddenly made aware of how much it actually sucked to not be able to hear her voice.

After a painstakingly long hour, they had put the cake in the oven and removed their restrictions. Y/n was washing her hands when Chris approached her.

“You know, it sucked not being able to hear you the whole time.”

“Oh, did it?” she smiled and turned to him. “I kinda wish I had been deaf so I wouldn’t have had to listen to you and Nick butcher a Justin Bieber song.”

“Hey, I think we slayed that song.” Chris replied defensively.

“I disagree. I could hear the whole thing as well and you guys did not sound great. Wouldn’t sign up for karaoke any time soon.” Matt joked, earning a slap from his younger brother. Y/n laughed and it made Chris upset that she laughed at Matt’s joke. Chris turned to Nick with a sad look on his face. Matt nodded his head towards the couch and y/n followed him over there. As they talked, Chris could feel himself getting mad. Matt knew how he felt about her and he didn’t like that they were suddenly so close.

Over on the couch, y/n kept glancing up towards where Nick and Chris were talking. With a heavy sigh, she turned back to face Matt.

“How am I supposed to let him down easy? He’s the sweetest, Matt.”

“He truly can be.” Matt looked over towards the kitchen and noticed that Chris was gone. “You might just want to come right out and tell him. It’ll probably be easiest.”

“Yeah sure. Good idea. I’ll talk to you later.” y/n gave Matt one last look before heading to Chris’ bedroom. One knock and he opened the door.

“Oh, hey. What’s up?”

“Can we talk?” y/n pulled the sleeves of the sweater down to cover her hands. Chris opened his door more to let her in and as she sat down on his bed, he couldn’t help but think about the sweater. Matt’s sweater.

“What did you wanna talk about?”

“I know you have a crush on me.”

“Oh.” Chris chuckled and sat next to her. “And?”

“When I figured it out, I tried to get myself to feel the same way. I really tried to, but I’m sorry. I just don’t. I do love you, Chris. But you’re my best friend. You’re great in every way and I’m sure you’ll find a girl who will appreciate everything you do for her. You’re easy to love, don’t get me wrong. But for me, it’s just not in the way you want and for that, I am truly sorry.”

“I’m not going to lie and say that it’s alright and that I’m over it. But as long as I still have you in my life, I for sure will be fine. Eventually.” He looked at her and seeing the upset look on her face made his heart hurt. “I can’t make you love me the way you love Matt and I can get over it with some time.”

“I do not love Matt.” y/n shook her head. “That’s ridiculous.”

“Yes you do. You just don’t realize it yet. And that’s fine. You’ll get there. And maybe one day, you can find happiness with him.”

“Chris, I promise you that I do not love Matt. I don’t have feelings for anyone right now.” She looked at him and sighed. “Okay, maybe a little crush. But that’ll pass quickly. It’s not like it’s been rolling around in my head for years. It’s new. Really recent.”

“Well it’s all good anyway. Matt told me himself he didn’t see what I saw in you and he would probably never see you the way I see you.”

“Why are you being like this?”

“Like what?” he questioned right back.

“You’re kind of acting like a jerk right now, Chris & I don’t like it.” She stood up quickly and headed for the door. “You’re supposed to be the sweet triplet. What’s gotten into you?”

“The girl I’ve loved for years has feelings for someone who won’t like her back. It kinda sucks and it’s the kind of thing that can make anyone upset.”

“Chris, you better stop right there before you say something that’ll get rid of me for good.”

“You’re Nick’s best friend. You’ll always be around.”

“But I won’t talk to you. It was nice knowing you, Chris.” y/n rolled her eyes and walked out of the room. Nick saw her face and just let her leave. Matt knew what had happened and instantly felt bad.

Over the next few days, y/n spent very little time with the triplets and it really messed them up. Nick was missing his best friend, Matt missed having her around to make fun of Nick and Chris with him, and Chris felt like he was missing a part of him.

“Nick, can you please see if y/n will come over tonight? We can all have a movie night like we used to when we were younger.”

“She’s not going to agree to that. She’s really upset with you, Chris.” Matt answered for Nick.

“And you know this how?” Chris raised an eyebrow, instantly curious at his brothers sudden closeness to y/n.

“I’m talking to her right now. She said, and I quote, ‘tell chris he’s an asshole every chance you get. thanks matthew.’ Don’t hate me for relaying the message.”

“Do you think you could call her and let me apologize? She won’t answer my calls.”

“You gotta do this on your own.” Nick finally spoke up.

“Yeah. What happened anyway? I know the gist of it but I don’t know any details.”

“She told me she knew that I liked her and then she tried to let me down easy and I went into Asshole Mode. We got into an argument and then I said some stupid things and she got upset and left.”

“What were you arguing about?”

“I accused her of having a crush on you, which she initially denied but ended up admitting to. Then I told her that you didn’t see her the same way and never would.” He sighed when he realized how bad it sounded. “I need to go talk to her. She must be so heartbroken. Matt, can you drive me?”

“Sorry, dude. Like Nick said, you gotta do this on your own.” Matt placed his hand on Chris’ shoulder. “Besides, it’s not a far walk. You’ll have time to think about what you’re going to say on the way there.”

“Yeah I guess you’re right.” Chris then turned to Nick. “Want to come with me? I could use someone to practice on before I get there. And maybe she’ll answer her door if she sees you.”

“Okay. I’m only going because I miss my best friend and she won’t talk to me either.” Nick grabbed his phone and followed Chris out the door. Matt was alone for the first time in what felt like forever. However, that didn’t last long because 5 minutes later, there was a knock on the front door. Matt walked over to it slowly.

“I swear to god, if you idiots forgot your keys again, I’m going to laugh.” He opened the door and was shocked to see y/n standing before him. “Hey. What are you doing here?”

“I came to the realization that I shouldn’t have acted the way I did and I came to apologize to Chris.” y/n looked up at Matt when she heard him chuckle. “What’s so funny about that, Matthew?”

“Chris was feeling the same way so he and Nick are on their way to your place as we speak.” He smiled. “Do you want to come in and wait?”

“Yeah, thanks.” She stepped into the warm house and went straight to the living room. Matt followed and sat on the opposite end of the couch.

“How long have you been wearing that sweater?” matt looked at her and noticed she was still wearing the sweater of his that she borrowed.

“Oh, I wore it for 3 days then I washed it. Now I feel like it needs to be back in your possession. It is one of your favorites, if I’m not mistaken.” She went to take it off but Matt grabbed her wrist to stop her.

“No. It’s fine. It looks good on you. Better than it ever did on me.” He lightly chuckled. “Chris would kill me if he heard that.”

“Well, I’m not his girlfriend and I think the whole situation is resolved so technically, you can say whatever you want.”

“I think it’s best if I talked to Chris first. Just to make sure everything is fine between you two.”

“Matt, she wasn’t home. Do you know where- Y/N!” Nick shouted as he ran over to y/n and pulled her in for a hug. Chris walked in slowly behind Nick and didn’t look happy, until he looked up and saw y/n.

“Can we talk?” he nervously scratched the back of his neck and went to his room. Y/n looked back at Matt before following Chris into the bedroom. She sat on his bed while he paced back and forth. “Look, I need to apologize for how I acted last week. It was uncalled for and you can like whoever you want. I shouldn’t have tried to get your mind off of Matt. Honestly, I’m pretty sure he’s into you now. Maybe he does see what I see. Because he’d be an idiot not to.”

“Chris, you don’t need to apologize. I was out of line too and I should’ve thought of a better way to let you down gently. Although, I did mean what I said when I told you that you’re easy to love, Chris.” y/n looked up at Chris and smiled. “I missed being here and I missed seeing your face.”

“I missed you too.” He chuckled and pulled her into a hug. She gladly returned it. While they were having their moment, the door flew open and Nick was standing there.

“This is cute and everything but I want some time with my best friend. We went a whole week without spending any time together and there’s 3 movie nights we need to make up for.”

“Let’s go set up the living room like we used to and the 4 of us can sleep out in the living room.” Chris suggested, casting a glance down to y/n.

“I’m 100% in.” she squealed excitedly and ran to Matt’s room to convince him to join them. Chris and Nick shared a look and went to go set up.

“I’m going to go get some snacks from the store. Who wants to tag along?” Matt grabbed his keys and looked at the three of them.

“Y/n can go with you. She knows what I like.” Nick waved them off before either of them could protest.

The drive to the store was quiet but the journey inside was worse. It was as though the moment they shared an hour earlier was completely forgotten. By the time they returned to the living room, Nick and Chris had everything set up.

“Okay, we’re each going to pick a movie and we’re going to watch them all. No falling asleep, got it?”

“Yeah Chris.” y/n teased.

“Hey, I can stay awake.”

“Only if it’s the movie you pick.” Nick smiled. “Which is why your movie will be last tonight.”

“No fair.” Chris tried to be upset but it was hard when he was surrounded by 3 people he loved. The 3 who could make him smile no matter what.

By the end of the 2nd movie, Nick had passed out. Chris suggested that they draw on his face but y/n shot that idea down quickly.

“Before we start my movie, I’m going to go change into some pajamas so I’m a little more comfortable.” y/n headed to Nick’s room, leaving Matt and Chris alone.

“You know, if you’re into y/n, I say go for it.” Chris looked down at the candy on his lap, almost like he wasn’t entirely sure of what he just said.

“Thanks but I’m really not into her like that. Well, actually, let’s just say things certainly shifted for me the day we filmed that baking video. It’s hard not to find a girl attractive when she’s wearing your clothes.”

“Unless you’re Nick.” Chris chuckled. “I’m serious though. She really does like you, Matt. I don’t think it’s just a crush like she claims. I also don’t believe it’s to the same level I was at for her, but she definitely has some feelings for you. If you really don’t like her, please let her down gently. She deserves only kindness given back to her.”

“I guess that’s what I’ll do then. Let her down gently.” Matt sighed and waited to start the next movie. Y/n walked out a few seconds later and for the first time ever, Matt couldn’t take his eyes off of her. It was like he was truly seeing her in a new light.

“Time to start my movie.” She took her spot between Nick and Chris while Matt pressed play. Chris noticed the stare and smiled to himself, knowing that this was the best possible thing for his 2 favorite people.

After all 4 movies had been watched, y/n looked at all 3 of the boys. Matt and Chris were passed out with their heads resting against each other. She snapped a picture of it and looked over at Nick. It was his rule that nobody was to fall asleep during any of the movies and y/n knew she’d be yelling at him for it in the morning.

Since she was alone, she decided to get up and go exploring the house on her own. She had spent a lot of time in Nick’s room and a decent amount of time in Chris’ room but she had only ever got a glimpse of what was in Matt’s room. This was her opportunity to finally see it. Nobody could stop her as she entered the bedroom.

Matt’s room was incredibly clean and neat, not what y/n was expecting at all. As she walked around looking at everything, her eyes settled on a framed photo on his desk. It was from the triplets 14th birthday and around the time Chris had realized he had feelings for y/n.

She picked up the picture and examined it some more. Nick’s arms were wrapped around y/n and Chris while Matt was standing behind them. All 4 of them had large, bright smiles and it made y/n wish for a simpler time again.

“You’re in my room.” Matt stood in the doorway and watched her jump.

“I’m sorry. I was just really curious to see what your room was like. I’ve never been in here before and it’s not at all what I was expecting.” She looked at him. “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. It was going to happen eventually.” Matt took a step into the room and shut the door. “I need to talk to you about something.”

“What’s that?”

“Did Chris actually tell you that I could never see you the way that he does?”

“Yeah. And thanks for reopening that wound.” y/n sighed and sat on the end of Matt’s bed. He joined her and placed his hands in his lap awkwardly.

“He was right, you know..”

“Wow. Thanks again, Matthew.” She looked at him. “Did you come in here to make me feel bad or something?”

“No. I came in here to get ready for bed but then I saw you standing over there admiring the picture and it felt like everything shifted. Like our whole dynamic changed somehow and I’m still trying to process what’s been running through my head these last few days without you here.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. And what I was trying to say just a minute ago is that Chris may have been right a week ago but if he had said that to you now, he would be completely wrong.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that last week, I didn’t think I could ever see myself feeling the way Chris did about you. Then we filmed the baking video last week and when you came out wearing my sweater, I thought it was really hot. It was the first time any girl had worn my clothes before and it felt really good knowing that the first one was you. And after tonight, I think I might actually have feelings for you. They may be small but they’re definitely there and I think I’d be an idiot if I didn’t tell you how I felt right away.” Matt took a deep breath. “And it’s okay that you may or may not feel the same way. Just thought you needed to hear it.”

“I do have feelings for you, Matt. I mean it only started recently but I do know that I like you. I just feel bad for Chris because he was so into me and I couldn’t give him that same love back.”

“Can we not talk about my brother right now?” Matt chuckled and held y/n’s hand. “Going back to what I said this afternoon and how I needed to talk to Chris. I talked to him while you were changing into your pajamas and he told me that if I genuinely liked you that I should go for it. And that’s what I’m doing. I don’t think there’s anyone like you in the world, y/n. You’re one of the kindest people I know, not to mention the most beautiful. Honestly, I never thought about it before but you’ve ticked off all the boxes on my list.”

“So does that make me your ideal girl?”

“I believe so.” He smirked and his eyes went down to her lips. “So, what do you think about that?”

“I think maybe you should kiss me before I lose my mind.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” She pulled him into the most gentle and loving kiss he had ever experienced. After a few long moments, Matt was the first to pull away, even though he didn’t want to. He looked at her with the biggest smile he ever had.

“Okay, so for me, that was the best kiss of my life.” He couldn’t help but chuckle.

“It was the best kiss of my life, too.” She smiled and placed her hand on his cheek. “How good did you say it felt seeing me in your clothes?”

“Really good.” He looked in her eyes. “Like, it felt really really good.”

“Oh, so it turned you on?”

“Oh yeah.” He smirked and held her close. “Glad you’re still wearing my sweater actually.”

“Are you now?” “Definitely.” He kissed her again. And again. And again. As if the kisses would eventually runout. How could he have not done this sooner?

taglist: @worldlxvlys

#matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo x reader

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elcpsstuff · 6 months

Text

S!ut! // Conrad Fisher

“I might as well be drunk in love”

a/n: I’m so obsessed with 1989 TV it’s not even funny and this song is my anthem. Please use * when saying the name because I don’t want my content to get banned ‼️ also when the text turns bold it switches to yns pov!!

warnings: toxic complex conrad, swearing, drinking, yn is a mess + delusional, small smut? if u squint :0

i’m sorry in advance..

—

You didn’t plan for this to happen.

You and your family have lived with the Fishers every single summer. Steven was the oldest and Belly was the youngest. Meaning, you fell right in the middle.

For years, you had wanted Conrad. Steven and Jeremiah always made fun of you but Belly never did because she had a thing for the youngest fisher, Jeremiah.

How could you not? He was so young, and a true peice of art. You had always been the hopeless romantic of the family, Belly falling not to far behind. It was safe to say you got love sick way to quick.

And with Conrad, well, that was dangerous.

It was one of the first nights of summer, and you had decided to take a solo swim. You gathered all your things and then made your way outside and over to the pool.

You didn’t notice him at first. In fact, you dove in and let the cool water heal your body. When you rose to the surface, that’s when you saw him. A joint in his hand, and a small smirk on his face.

Your heartbeat accelerated, “Stalking me?”

He chuckled, “I’ve been out here longer if I’m correct.” His voice was teasing, and he was testing the waters. Maybe you could too.

“So, seriously? Smoking?”

Conrad rolled his eyes, “Don’t scold me like everybody else is. I don’t need a second mom.”

“Just quit, Conrad.”

He looked you in the eyes and then smirked, “What will you give me if I do?”

Your face went red. You felt your cheeks burn.

Slowly, you said, “What do you want?”

It was funny. In this aquamarine swimming pool that was filled with lights, all you ever really needed was him.

—

It had been a week since you and Conrad kissed. After responding to him oh so temptingly, he couldn’t help it. He kissed you right then and there. (He jumped in the pool, first.)

Conrad didn’t know what to feel. Deep down he always knew he had some sort of feelings for you. He was shit at showing it though, but now you were in for the long run.

You were love sick. All over his bed.

Sex with Conrad Fisher was one of the best things to ever happen to you. He made you feel like a different person completely. He could be so sweet yet so, different in bed? It was indescribable.

You groaned against the pillow, digging your nails into his back, leaving tiny little scratch marks. In response he groaned and moaned into your neck. You cracked a smile.

“You alright, Fisher?” You teased.

“I’ll be asking you that soon.” He looked up at you, lips red and plump and eyes wild. He began to nip and leave marks all over your neck, and you had never felt more alive.

Sex with him showed a whole new vulnerability. He would kiss you and worship every inch of your body. How could anybody be so perfect?

It was getting harder to hide. Each time you two went at it, he left marks that were as obvious as handprints on wet cement. One time, Jeremiah even caught wind of it.

“What’s that on your neck?” He had asked one morning.

You mentally cursed yourself. You thought you had concealed most of these marks with makeup, but it seems Conrad’s love for you was harder to hide each time.

“I— um… chin burn?” You lie.

Jeremiah didn’t believe it, but he laughed anyways. “Alright, sure.”

It just became worse from there. You became lovelorn and sex with him felt like thorns. Instead of cuddling you after, he would leave you wobbling walking back to your room. It was like you were a toy, and he was getting bored of you.

Most nights you cried after. You felt used and sad. You truly thought Conrad had felt what you felt for him all these years, but maybe he was just bored. And wanted an easy grab.

Still, you found yourself in his bedroom almost every night. He would make you promises in the bed to ensure you kept coming, but nothing ever amounted to the lies he fed you.

Blindly, you were still in love with him. So you kept this a secret from everybody you loved. You didn’t want anybody, especially Belly to worry.

You’d pay the price, so he won’t.

—

You had dressed up nice for this party. Just in case Conrad wanted to slip away from the crowds and have a good time with you.

Belly and Jeremiah had become very suspicious at this point. Those two were open about their new relationship all summer, and a little part of you felt jealous. You wished Conrad wouldn’t keep you like a secret.

“Are you okay?” Belly asks, handing you a beer to which you accept.

You nod, “Yeah, yeah. I’m good.” It was a lie. You were far from good at all. You wanted to cry and break down into your sisters arms. She was your younger sister and yet she was more stable than you at the moment.

Belly said some other things, but you were too distracted by Conrad signaling you to come up the stairs. Finally, the moment you were waiting for. You shouldn’t have been, but you simply couldn’t resist him.

As soon as you walked into the room Conrad was ripping your clothes off. You knew it was wrong, and that if anybody knew they’d probably call you that word. A sl*t.

But you know, in this moment. It might be worth it for once?

You were drunk off your ass, but nothing felt better than the art Conrad was perfecting on you. In moments like these, you almost believed it was all real. He traced your curves so calmly, and you swore you saw the light.

Conrad kissed your cheeks, and then your lips. He worked his way down to the area you so desperately wanted. He looked up at you with a smirk.

“You’re beautiful like this.”

His eyes told a story, one you were so foolish to believe.

Yes, you were drunk. But you were drunk in love.

—

It’s was the day of the deb ball.

Somehow, you had convinced Conrad to come with you. Apart of you was giddy, hopeful, but things still remained the same. Conrad kept you his little secret and it pained you when he sent you to your room crying at night. You still took all this pain for him.

When they called your name, Conrad was there to escort you. He smiled at you, that beautiful smile only Conrad fisher had. Laurel and Susannah were both in tears from you and Belly.

When you curtsied for them, Conrad linked his arm with yours, and whispered, “Beautiful, as always.”

You couldn’t help but smile. No matter what, out of all the boys, he remained a gentleman.

When it came time for the escort dance, Conrad danced with you, and it all seemed so real, so genuine. Summer was ending, but maybe this didn’t have to. Maybe this could be the start of something.

When the danced ended, something changed in his face. It was like the color drained from his face.

“Con, are you—”

“Outside. We need to talk.” Before you could object he was grabbing you and pulling you away from the center of the room. Belly mouthed something to you that you couldn’t decipher.

Once you got outside Conrad paced around and then looked you in the eyes. Oh fuck.

You began to shake your head, “Don’t say it.”

“yn—”

Tears brimmed at your eyes. You couldn’t believe this.

“Is this a joke to you? My feelings? I fucking gave myself to you and now your just gonna make me forget?”

He paused, “I needed to forget about my shit and you—”

“Screw you!” You pointed your hands at him and tears streamed down your face. He looked broken, for you. He probably didn’t give a shit. Maybe he cared somewhere in his cold heart, but not enough.

Conrad inched closer to you, “I— I’m sorry.. It’s all so so complicated okay? You were there. I care about you, you know that. That night in the pool was just the wrong place but the right time.”

Those words stung, because they were true. Did you mean nothing? If it was anybody else, would he have done the same?

the wrong place but the right time.

I started to break down, falling to the bench next to me. I was sobbing, because I felt disgusting. Like an idiot.

I would never do this. This wasn’t who I was. I wouldn’t continue to give myself to someone who truly didn’t want me. I would have walked away. I knew what I was, and I was raised better than this.

Still, looking at him was hard. Because I still loved him. It was supposed to be me and him from day one. The two oldest kids, everyone saw it.

I felt his arms wrap around me and I hated it. He’s pulling me in like the nice gentleman he was.

I pushed him off me and he stumbled back a little.

“Just get away from me!” He went to speak, but I put my hand out to stop him. With a big sigh, he slowly walked away from me and back into the ballroom. His eyes were red, I saw them.

Within minutes Belly was running out to find me. When she saw me, she ran up to me and sat down next to me on the bench. The look she gave me, it was too hard. She knew it in her heart, me and Conrad.

“Yn? What’s going on?”

I didn’t say anything, and then I was sobbing in her arms. She held me like there was no tomorrow, and even though I was soaking her dress, it didn’t matter. Not to her. She knew what I was going through and I didn’t have to say it.

To say what I was, that was harsh. I wasn’t like this always, I was just twisted by the sick and harsh lies the man I claimed I had felt true love with gave me.

I thought if I was called it, it would be worth it for once. If i was drunk, I was drunk in love.

But was it? Was it worth it?

—

Like i said.. i’m sorry in advance :0

let me know if you guys have any more requests!! :)

Listen to the song that inspired this fanfic here ->

#the summer i turned pretty #conrad fisher #jeremiah fisher #team conrad #belly conklin #conrad x reader #team jeremiah #tsitp #love #summer love #conrad fisher fic #conrad fisher x reader #conrad fisher fanfic #Spotify

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1-imaginary-girl · 1 year

Text

Annoying 2

Five Hargreeves x Reader

Summary: Five and Y/N are now partners. They’ve been assigned their first official mission as a team. But when the plan derails, the two find themselves facing a choice that might change the course of their new partnership. Reader is gender-neutral.

Warnings: Violence

Word Count: 5113

Part 1

A/N: This was originally going to be an independent one-shot, but there were so many requests for more “Annoying” content I decided to switch things up. If anyone has any suggestions or requests for what to do to continue this series, I would greatly appreciate it.

Reader’s POV

“Have you completely memorized your character sheet?” Five shouts from another room. You’re currently putting the finishing touches on your disguise in the washroom of your shared hotel room. And thankfully, the Handler assigned the two of you separate beds. Your face heats up thinking of a different situation.

“Yes, Five, believe it or not, this isn’t my first time undercover,” you shout back. You smile, knowing he's probably rolling his eyes at you.

This is yours and Five's first official mission together as partners. Just the sentence makes you want to squeal. But you have to keep yourself professional tonight. You want to show Five just how good an agent, and a partner, you could be.

There was a bit of prep and training before tonight as neither you nor Five has had a partner before and the Handler doesn’t respond well to mistakes. It was simple tests to ensure that the two of you were suitable to be partners, such as practicing combat as a duo, reviewing boring company documents, and there was even a training video called “How to be the Ideal Partner” which Five immediately tried to walk out of before the Handler reminded him it was required.

All of this extra work worried you that Five would change his mind about being your partner, especially since you weren’t even sure what finally convinced him to do it in the first place. But to your surprise and delight, Five stuck through it with bearable complaining.

You touch up your face and adjust a few stray hairs before feeling satisfied. You stand back and take a look at yourself. The look is a bit bold but you remind yourself that you are no longer Y/N L/N but rather Sam Palinski. A bit of an average name, but the point was not to stick out.

You’re not sure if the Handler did this on purpose, but the outfit chosen for “Sam” cuts quite the figure. It hugs your body a bit tighter than what you would normally wear, but you remind yourself to be confident. In fact, you look pretty hot. The outfit isn’t perfect for hand-to-hand combat, but the objective was to avoid as much conflict as possible. Thankfully, you are wearing shoes that double in comfort as well as looks.

The details of your character sheet rattle off in your mind. You shouldn’t need to know too much, just enough to hold a conversation, but you were prepared nonetheless.

“I would prefer to get there on time,” Five shouts. This time it’s you who’s rolling your eyes.

“Calm down, I’m coming,” you say. After one final look at yourself and a whisper of encouragement, you exit the washroom. “Besides, it’s always better to be fashionably late, don’t you think?”

You look up and are struck by the image of Five Hargreeves in a tuxedo. While he’s normally seen in a suit and tie, the look of him in a proper suit with his hair combed back sets your heart aflutter more than usual. He locks eyes with you and you think you see his eyes widen. You try to portray an act of confidence as he surveys your look.

“Well, what do you think?” you say while outstretching your arms. Your smile brings his eyes back up to your face.

“You look…adequate,” he says before clearing his throat and turning away. You don’t know what you expected, but something in you deflates. You think you hear him mutter, “Not very inconspicuous” but you brush it off.

“Just what every person wants to hear.” Suddenly you feel awkward with Five’s back to you so you inch closer to gauge a reaction out of him. “So, are you ready to make our debut, Mr. Palinski?”

Five scowls to himself while taking a step away. “I don’t see why the Handler had to make our identities married to one another.” You’re used to Five’s grumpiness. You never let it affect you because you know that’s just the way he is. But sometimes you think there might be another side to him. And a part of you keeps hoping that he’ll show you that side more. But you already got him to agree to be your partner. You got what you wanted from him, right?

“Because a married couple is more discreet than two eligible singles, especially when I look like this.” You give a twirl and wink at the boy. His face is flushed, probably from frustration. He’s cute when he’s frustrated.

“We should get going.” You roll your eyes at his abruptness.

“Fine. After you, husband.” You receive one more scowl for the road.

After a short drive where Five continued to shut down your attempts to sing along to the radio, you pull up to the target’s location. The target is hosting a soiree at their ginormous mansion which is how Five and you will be able to slip in amongst the attendants.

Even though you knew what the mansion looked like since the two of you surveyed the area prior to tonight, the size still blows you away. You wonder what it would take for you to live in a mansion like this.

Driving past the front gate, you arrive in front of the doors. There is a valet stationed to help you out of the car. You thank them and take in the scene before you. Five rounds the car after handing the keys over to the valet and stands beside you.

He starts to walk in when you see a security guard with no doubt a guest list. You quickly loop your arm through Five’s and hold tight when he tries to pull away.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he hisses at you. You roll your eyes.

“We’re supposed to be married and that involves acting like it,” you hiss back. “Haven’t you ever done undercover work?”

He tosses a glare your way. “Yes but normally I’m on my own,” he whispers. And then under his breath says, “Which I’m starting to miss right about now.”

You ignore his negativity and simply pull him along with you. The two of you give your names to the security guard, and after presenting I.D., you are let in. One reason you love working in the field is the various places you get to travel. Rich targets are your favourite because they always have the most extravagant homes.

You look around in awe as you take in the place. Immediately there’s a golden chandelier above you in the entryway. Just a little further you can see into the ballroom and your excitement doubles. “Come on,” you say to Five without giving him a glance and dragging him over to the room.

“Slow down, you’re going to tear my arm off.” His complaint goes in one ear and out the other as you stumble into the room. People dressed in their most expensive clothing populate the room. There are tables and such off to the sides where some are conversing, but it’s the middle of the room that catches your eye. There, people are dancing the waltz, and you compare the sight to a dazzling teacup ride as they move round and round in circles, the girls twirling their dresses in various colours while the men take the lead.

“We should spread out, try to blend in with the crowd before making a move to recover the flash drive,” Five says while scanning the area. Your mission was to recover a stolen flash drive that the target swiped from the Commission. The target is an ex-employee and a bitter one at that. The flash drive contains confidential information about the Commission, specifically compromising details about their agents. That includes Five and yourself.

You know the mission is an important one, but you can’t help but feel drawn to the dance floor. You want to get swept away into your secret identity and for one night blend in with this society of high-class, beautiful-looking people.

“We should dance,” you blurt out.

“We absolutely should not.” He looks at you incredulously. But you don’t care.

“Come on Five—”

“Y/N, we’re supposed to be blending in not standing out.”

“But isn’t the best hiding spot in plain sight?” You look at him with your best attempt at a puppy dog face. Despite his lack of human emotion, he does look away from you.

“That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.” It becomes clear to you that he won’t budge and you would either have to drag him kicking and screaming onto the dance floor or let it go. Or a third, more devious option.

“Fine. We should split up, talk to different people.”

“Don’t blow our cover by talking too much,” he warns you with a serious look on his face.

“Who, me?” You give him one last cheeky smile before heading towards the right side of the room.

You scour the crowd of well-dressed people looking for someone to execute your plan with. There are plenty of eligible bachelors, but your eyes land on one in particular. You can’t believe your luck, but there, standing on his own, is the host. He’s also the one who stole the flash drive. You straighten your back and quickly saunter over to him before anyone else can scoop him up.

“What’s a handsome man like yourself doing all alone?” you ask as you saddle up next to him. The man turns to you and smiles.

“Apparently, I was waiting for you.” Despite yourself, you blush. It isn’t often you get this kind of attention.

“Sam Palinski, pleasure to meet you,” you say.

“Michael Lynell, and I can assure you, the pleasure is all mine.” You feign shock at the name.

“You’re the host?”

“That’s correct.”

“Well, you certainly know how to throw an event,” you say, gazing out at the sea of people and the intricate, beautiful décor.

“Thank you, I do hope you’re enjoying your time so far.”

“Absolutely.”

A pause. “Are you unaccompanied tonight?” he asks. Smooth move.

“Actually, I’m here with my husband,” you say. You try and fail to spot Five amongst the crowd. Michael only then seems to notice your (fake) wedding ring. His face shows mild disappointment.

“Ah, I see.” He seems a bit defeated before perking up and regaining his charming attitude. “Do you think your husband would mind if I asked his lovely spouse for a dance?” he asks. You’re surprised you didn’t have to ask him, but are excited nonetheless.

“Not at all.” Michael holds out his hand and you take it, following him onto the floor as a new song begins. Michael takes the lead and you’re perfectly content to follow.

“You’re quite the dancer, Mr. Lynell,” you say, feeling giddy to be dancing for the first time in a while.

“Only because I have such a good partner,” he says with a wink. You bite your lip to keep from smiling too much. The man is rather cute, and perhaps if he wasn’t your current enemy, you could see yourself actually pursuing him.

Just as you allow yourself to get swept up into the dance, your eyes flicker down from Michael’s gaze to the crowd. Suddenly, your eyes lock onto Five’s as he stares at you from across the room, and there’s a look there that you don’t recognize. You look away, trying to ignore him for the time being. There’s no use in entertaining that idea. You shake off any ill-conceived hopes and continue with your fantasy.

Before the song is over, however, Five appears next to you which gives you a start. His eyes are on Michael as he taps the man on the shoulder. Michael turns to him, just as startled.

“Mind if I cut in to dance with my spouse?” Five asks him with anger laced in his tone. It must be your silly imagination, but you could have sworn he emphasized the last two words.

Michael recovers from his surprise and returns to his charming host persona. “Of course,” he says. He then turns to you. “It was a pleasure, Palinski.”

You nod with a smile as he weaves through the crowd and disappears from your sight. You’re drawn back as Five repositions you to dance with him. You are bewildered by his actions. “What are you doing?” you ask as he prepares himself.

“Dancing,” he says, as if it was a stupid question. Then the two of you begin to dance as if nothing happened. You stare at him, trying to figure him out, but he’s determined to stare at the top of your head instead.

“I thought you said you wouldn’t dance,” you say with narrowed eyes. But his expressionless face doesn’t waver.

“I said we shouldn’t dance, but since you’ve chosen to ignore my advice, you leave me no choice but to keep up appearances or risk blowing our cover,” he says, all calculating and professional. “After all, married couples typically dance together, do they not?”

Again, you thought you heard an emphasis on the word “together”. So, you pull on that thread. “I was doing just fine dancing with our host.” Then you see it. Five flinches at your words. Your confusion only grows.

“And just what were you doing interacting with our enemy?” He finally meets your gaze as if looking for something.

“Blending in.”

“By making lasting impressions? We’re supposed to be keeping a low profile,” he snipes.

“Relax, I doubt it was a lasting impression.” Five looks as if he wants to argue but decides against it.

“It was a risk nonetheless.” You almost argue back but stop yourself. You don’t want to argue. You’re right where you want to be: dancing at a fancy event, and with Five himself no less. You decide to just let yourself enjoy it.

A few moments of silence pass over the two of you before you speak up again, this time with a teasing tone. “I didn’t expect Five Hargreeves to be such a good dancer.” He meets your eyes again and your breath catches. Thankfully he doesn’t seem to notice.

“My father trained us in ballroom dancing. Said it would help with our coordination, or something about dancing being an important skill,” he says, and as he talks there’s a far-off look in his eyes. “He was old-fashioned like that.”

You try not to get excited about all that you’ve learned about Five so far. He said us, which suggests he has siblings and the words “trained” and “coordination” seem to suggest more teachings than a regular father would give.

“He sounds like an interesting fellow,” you comment. Five snorts derivatively.

“That’s one way to describe him.” You don’t want to push him for more information since you’ve already gotten more in the last few seconds than you have the last few months. But you also don’t want the conversation to end or for him to regret telling you so you offer something up in return.

“I used to take dance lessons when I was a kid, my own idea,” you say, smiling fondly. “Of course, it turns out I was terrible at dancing, and I quit after a year.” Five laughs, and your chest swells with pride as you smile back.

“You don’t seem so terrible right now,” he offers, a rare compliment from the man.

“I suppose a few lessons must have stuck,” you say. “That, or I have an excellent partner.”

“Must be the latter,” Five says, causing both of you to laugh. When your eyes meet again, and the two of you are caught smiling, something seems to change in the air. You two continue to dance, but Five doesn’t look away this time, instead giving you an earnest look. You don’t look away either. You hold your breath, afraid that one false move might ruin this moment. But everything good must come to an end eventually.

The music stops, and it’s as if Five snapped out of a trance, for he quickly looks away and clears his throat. You can’t help but feel a bit disappointed. “I think now’s the time to begin the search,” he says, all traces of amusement gone.

You recover yourself and nod. “Yes, right.” Five then takes off towards the staircase and you’re close on his heels. You nervously glance around before making a bold move. You catch his hand and grab his arm with your other hand, snuggling into his side with a giddy smile plastered on your face.

Five appears taken aback by your actions. “W-what the hell are you doing?” he asks, his face reddening.

“Keeping up appearances, remember?” you say still with a smile. “It’s a bit less suspicious for a couple to sneak off somewhere together than two individuals.”

“Right,” he says, but still seems very uncomfortable, only managing a tight smile as a cover.

†††

Once you’re out of sight, you immediately let Five go. You feel a tad embarrassed by your actions, but you were only trying to keep yourselves from getting caught. Five leads the way to the office located in the building, remembering the blueprints you studied together.

The door is locked when you find it, but Five simply teleports inside and unlocks it for you. You had planned for this; when the two of you were scoping out the place, Five made sure to check out the office from the windows to know what the room looked like.

“Stand guard while I search,” he tells you before walking away. You scrunch your face.

“Why am I standing watch, exactly?”

Without looking up from his search, Five says, “Because you said I could take lead on our missions.” You try to remember your multiple pitches to Five when asking to be his partner. Damn, you did say that.

“I take it back,” you say while maintaining watch of the hallway.

“Too late.” You huff but accept your fate. Your gaze flickers across the hallway, keeping your eyes and ears open for any witnesses. You can faintly hear the music from the first floor and can’t help but wish you were back there, dancing again. Dancing with Five. You shake your head and try not to let your mind wander any further.

After a while of painful silence, Five breezes past you. “I’ve got it,” he says, holding the flash drive in his hand. You smile.

“Finally.” You snatch the flash drive from his hands.

“Hey!” he frowns trying to grab it but you duck out of reach. You giggle and begin to head towards the stairs when suddenly two large men in tuxedos enter the hallway. You turn your head to see two more making their way towards you and Five, and you have a feeling that there are more to come.

You quickly stuff the flash drive into one of your pockets.

“The party’s downstairs kids,” one of the men in front of you says. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Five tense up and see the calculating gaze enter his eyes.

“Silly us, must’ve had too much champagne!” you say, stalling for the inevitable as you prepare yourself. “Well, we’ll just return to the party—”

“I don’t think so,” the other says, revealing a gun.

“That’s alright. I hear the real party’s upstairs anyway.” With those words, you see Five blink from your side to standing behind the two men. You love seeing the shock on people’s faces the first time it happens.

You turn to deal with the other two. “Can’t we just talk this out?” you ask. One of them takes aim and you roll your eyes. “Guess not.”

The bullet fires but you’ve already moved out of the way. You might not have Five’s teleportation, but you’re quick on your feet. You pull out the gun that was strapped to your leg and shoot the weapon out of the man’s hand. He shouts just as his partner fires at you. But you’re running, and the bullet hits the wall.

You manage to get behind the man you haven’t shot and jump on his back. While he struggles to get you off, you shoot his partner in the neck. The man you’re on top of reveals a hidden knife and slashes at you, opening a gash on your right forearm. You hiss and drop off of him. But you shoot his chest three times before he can turn around.

Near the stairs, you see Five standing over the body of two men but more are coming. As you make your way over, you fire at them, careful not to hit Five while he’s blinking around. The two of you manage to take out eight more guards, but somehow they keep coming. Then you see one man in particular make his way onto the scene.

“I have to say, Palinski,” Michael Lynell says as he catches your gaze. “I’m rather surprised.”

“What, you didn’t think I was just another pretty face, did you?” you ask, as Five tackles the guards around him. It seems you have Michael’s undivided attention. He smiles at you.

“Of course not. I just didn’t expect the Commission to risk such an obviously valuable asset,” he says, looking you up and down. It doesn’t give you the same butterflies as before but rather sends a chill up your spine.

“Allow me to show you how valuable I really am.” You shoot a few bullets at the man but he’s running before they can reach him. You quickly run out of bullets and toss your gun aside, changing to hand-to-hand combat. Your fist collides with his jaw which sends him stumbling back. You smile as he scowls. But soon he’s diving for you and you barely manage to move out of the way.

Your fight continues with a few blows landing on each other when suddenly he clamps his hand down on your bleeding arm, catching you off guard. You struggle but can feel him gaining the upper hand. In a moment of panic, you spot Five not too far away. While fighting against Michael, you manage to catch Five’s eye.

“Run!” you yell. Before he can process what you mean, the flash drive is out of your pocket and you’re tossing it into the air. Five’s eyes widen before quickly blinking over to catch it. As he catches it, Michael tightens his hold on your arm and you bite back a whimper. He pulls you to his chest and puts you in a chokehold. But he doesn’t cut off your breathing. You look to your right to see a gun pointed at your head.

“Drop your weapon!” Michael shouts at Five. Five looks over and you see his eyes widen. Michael’s the last enemy standing, you and Five managed to take on every other one. You try to struggle in his grasp but he only presses the gun further into your head. Five tosses his gun to the side. You assume he also ran out of bullets anyway.

“Now, hand over the flash drive, or I’ll shoot your pretty partner here,” he says in a menacing voice. He’s cocky and you can sense the victorious smile spreading across his lips. But he's not the only one victorious.

You laugh in his hold. “Nice try, but Five here doesn’t care if you shoot me,” you say. You try not to show your hurt and hide the pain in your chest but you know you’re right. This isn’t how you imagined you’d die, but at least you’ll make a hot corpse.

“I wouldn’t be too sure about that, pretty,” Michael whispers in your ear, his eyes locked on Five.

Instead of running like you told him to, Five hesitates. To your confusion, he seems to be looking between you and Michael with that calculating gaze. His jaw is set and you can see his frustration from the tightening of his fists.

“Five, what are you doing?” you ask. “Go!” He should have been long gone. He has the flash drive, your mission was a success. Besides, you were only a new partner. As much as you’ve tried, you haven’t managed to get on his good side. He wouldn’t throw away the mission for this.

But then, you watch as Five pulls the flash drive from his pocket. You begin to struggle again, despite the pain of the gun pressing into your skull. Five doesn’t look at you.

“If I hand this over,” Five says. “You let them go.” His voice is seething as he stares Michael down, like he wants to rip him apart. Your mind can barely process what’s happening. You wish he would look at you so that you could try to make some sense of what’s going on in his head, but he refuses to look your way.

“That’s the deal,” Michael says from behind you. In a quieter voice, Michael says to you, “I told you you were valuable.” The sentence sends you to panic more and you shake your head, a bruise beginning to form where the gun is pressing into you.

In a matter of seconds, you watch as Five tosses the flash drive into the air towards Michael. The man shoves you to the ground hard as he tries to catch it. The second he has the object in his grasp, he takes off running.

You groan from your place on the floor. Suddenly you see a flash of blue and Five is leaning over you. His eyes are swimming with concern as he sweeps over your body. Then he locks eyes with you and you feel your breath stop.

“Are you okay?” he asks seriously. His stare is intense and you freeze for a minute. Then you snap back to reality.

“Uh yeah, I’m fine,” you say and Five’s shoulders seem to relax. Then you remember your mission. “Five, he’s getting away!”

“Oh no he’s not,” Five growls as his gaze fills with anger once more. You see Five go from crouching beside you to blinking next to Michael just as he made it to the stairs. You begin to sit up as you watch Five knock the man out, probably killing him. He leans over Michael’s body and you think he says something before he pries the flash drive from his hands.

In a flash, Five is back standing over you. He wordlessly holds out his hand toward you. You grab it and he helps you up. “Thank you,” you say in awe, once again trying to lock eyes with him. But the moment seems to have passed.

“Don’t mention it,” he says, and you have a feeling he isn’t just talking about helping you up.

†††

The car ride back is uneventful, filled with awkward silence. You keep glancing over at Five but his eyes remain focused on the road.

The two of you walk into the motel room, exhausted from the fight. Five prepares to send the flash drive back to the Commission as you watch, unsure of what to do or say. So you say the obvious.

“So, are we not going to talk about it?” you ask. You’re met with silence and you roll your eyes. You reach over to your travel bag and hiss, pulling back your arm.

“You got stabbed, you idiot,” Five says, glancing over his shoulder. Oh, right. You kind of forgot about your injury in your haze of confusion. You hold your arm, wincing at the amount of blood.

“I’ll be fine,” you say, brushing it off. “Just have to patch myself up.”

You search for the motel’s first aid kit. After finding it you plop yourself down in a chair and place the kit on the room’s desk. Then you hesitate, wondering how to proceed single-handedly. Especially using your bad hand. That doesn’t stop you as you open the kit and start to clean the wound. It’s a bit of a struggle and takes you way longer than it should have. You’re also exhausted which doesn’t help.

You hear a sigh and turn to see Five approaching you. “Useless,” he utters as he starts to take over.

“Five, I don’t need your help. I’m fine—”

“Shut up and let me concentrate.” The way he becomes so focused on the task, eyebrows scrunching as he delicately holds your arm, is enough to shut you up more than his words.

“Yes sir,” you whisper, and he rolls his eyes. Silence fills the room as Five wordlessly patches up your wound. You hiss at the rubbing alcohol and he glances up at you, his features softer than normal, before gently continuing the task. You take the time to regard him fondly, watching his small mannerisms and movements.

You get so caught up that the words seem to fall out of your mouth. “Why didn’t you run?” you whisper, trying to keep the moment quiet. He hesitates. “The mission was complete, you had the flash drive. I told you to run.” The question has been eating away at you. Five takes a moment to think before continuing his task.

“They were going to kill you,” he says, as if it was an obvious answer. But nothing about this man seems obvious to you.

“I thought you hated me.”

“I do,” he says and the words seem to hurt despite the fact that you already knew that. “But that doesn’t mean I want you dead.”

Your breath catches as you stare at Five. It’s not much, and for anyone else that sentence would have meant nothing. But you knew that it was Five revealing his feelings for you. Five hates everyone, that's only natural. But this is the first real indication that you mean something to him.

You smile. “For the record, I don’t want you dead either.” Five stops what he’s doing and for the first time since the mansion, he meets your gaze. The two of you hold eye contact for a moment and you swear you see his mouth twitch upwards. Then reality crashes down on both of you and you awkwardly look away while blushing.

Five clears his throat. “This doesn’t change anything,” he says, finishing up the bandaging of your arm.

“Of course not,” you respond, and he seems to hold onto your arm for a moment or two longer than he should have. Then he’s walking away. As you watch him head for the washroom, you both know that that was a lie.

* * * * *

Those who asked for a part 2:

@winchestertitties @tua-five @violett-s @if-alina @shampoocovers99

#five x reader #five x you #five x y/n #five hargreeves x reader #five hargreeves x you #five hargreeves x y/n #five hargreeves #Five Hargreeves fanfiction #tua #The Umbrella Academy #the umbrella academy fanfiction #tua fanfiction

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yuu--dachi · 11 months

Text

a joy to be hidden, a disaster to not be found

hewwo! it's my first fic in a while and also the first fic on this blog. wahoo!! and it's.... an x reader fic which i've also never done before!! and also for genshin!! wahoo!!

ships: alhaitham x reader / you (gender neutral)

content: hurt/comfort, fluff, lowkey pining from alhaitham, reader experiences a panic attack, written in reader's pov but switches to alhaitham for a bit at the end, alhaitham says Sorry cus i like to make him do that 😎

words: 4k (help girl how did i let it get this long...)

synopsis: in which a haravatat scholar realises that everything is not as simple as it is, our body betrays us at every second of every hour, and the three times alhaitham finds you, no matter what.

this reader is for all the babygirls (gender neutral) out there who feel things so deeply and we are all crybabies. i see you, i hear you, and i love you!! we're all bad bitches who are easily moved and touched by the world around us and that's lovely!! keep shining your light on this world, friends!

i'm taking requests for drabbles and quick fics or poetry! whatever inspo strikes me 😴

---

the first time he finds you, alhaitham says:

“the solution is quite simple.”

and you find your fist in wanting of purchase in his face.

“this wouldn't be a problem had you realised your limits before your entire body broke down. surely, i don't have to cite research papers for you to understand that it is important to take note of one's mental health accordingly, as an adult with agency in your own life? then you don't have to find comfort in the mouth of a beer mug.”

he was surprisingly chatty today, and at any other time you would have loved to relish in making him speak for so much for so long. getting him to talk so much was like trying to scrape the bottom of the jar for the last smidgens of berry jam, and you savoured it just as well.

but not today.

“alhaitham, you're not in my shoes, so stop trying to make me walk down the same path you do.”

he tipped his head, confused. “what's wrong with my path? i have no relationship problems—”

“because you don't maintain any.”

“—no financial burdens—”

“because you don't spend it on anything.”

“—and no personal problems.”

“because you don't bother with anything you don't care for,” you sighed out.

“if i didn't maintain any relationships, then why am i here? and if i didn't spend any money, then why is the bill under my name? and if i didn't bother with anything i don't care for, then why am i with you, right now, instead of reading at home?”

he flicks your nose; you sniffle in response and bury your face into the hard table, slightly damp from your tears.

“i don't know,” you whispered, the words leaving you without a thought. “why are you here, alhaitham?”

“if i follow your reasoning, it's because i'm bored, have money, and don't care to be anywhere else. does that answer satisfy you?”

a silence between both of you, even though the tavern was filled with the sound of chatter and the tinkling of dishes and cutlery. “...no.”

“then why upset yourself?”

you remove your face from the table and look at him, despite your eyes red and puffy from crying, nosy runny, and a wood grain pattern imprinted on your cheek and forehead. “i just wanted to hear you say it.”

he hums, thoughtful.

(despite his demeanour, he was rarely thoughtless about anything. even if he didn't make decisions you would've done.)

“because i care about you,” he let the words out slowly, like testing how they roll off the tongue. like learning a new language. “is that alright?”

you plant your face back into the table, all too-aware of your red eyes that must've sparkled, your lips that wanted to become a songbird in return for such simple words. “mm-hmm. thank you.”

“you're very welcome.”

***

the second time alhaitham finds you, you are under a table.

“go away for a bit,” the words come out of your mouth clumsily, like tripping over your own feet in haste. “this one's t-taken.”

your humour probably didn't land as well as you hoped. the stuttering of the heart in your chest beating like a butterfly's wings in flight, like it had ambitions of flying out of your chest instead of remaining behind your ribcage where it belonged. to your credit, it was hard to think of a joke in the middle of everything that was happening in your body. you would've rated yourself fairly well, all things considered.

alhaitham didn't seem to agree, although he didn't frown at you. he tends to voice out his disagreements vocally rather than through things like body language—you know, like a machine would when you press the wrong button?

if he knew what i'm thinking right now, he would probably say that it's one of the virtues of studying under haravatat—classic alhaitham!

instead of saying anything immediately though, he sat cross-legged in front of you, his eyes wandering, seemingly…. observing? what was he looking at? you're sure you could've tell if your mind was clearer, but you couldn't at the moment.

“does it not hurt?” he asked, then, from your face dipped over your hunched knees, you heard two raps of a knock on the desk. “this is the desk made with athel wood, isn't it? it's very durable, but it's difficult for the city craftsmen to make full use of them right now because of how hard it is. the edges don't look sanded enough.”

“i-it's fine,” you choke out, and then breathed in and out for a proper response. “i don't mind it so much.”

he raised a brow in return. oh, you think, so now he's going to use body language, is he?

too bad you couldn't savour it this time too.

“as long as it's pressing against me, i'm… okay.”

you hear him hum in understanding, like he does when he reads a well written proposal.

“is that why you chose this desk in particular? the others were too high and wide and you couldn't make contact with the wood?”

before you realised it, it was easier for you to speak now, even though your heart was still pounding, and your skin felt raw. you didn't usually try to talk when you were experiencing… whatever this is.

“yeah. i just need… to feel safe.”

before you realised it, your face was no longer tucked between your knees, but instead resting on them as you avoided looking him in the eyes.

“i see,” he said, and he paused before saying: “would you mind if i tried something?”

you hesitated, and your eyes finally meet. “i don't know, what are you going to do?”

“i'm going to hold you in my arms,” he said, and switched from sitting cross legged to having his knees tucked under him, arms open and his hands stretching for yours. “if you don't mind.”

in any other situation, you wouldn't have minded. you'd say: maybe it'll start snowing in the desert today! should we start preparing for the oncoming winter?

but now….

you were a mess—just like you were in the tavern that night, too. red ringed on your puffed-up eyes, sweat drenching your clothes and making your back feel as humid as the rainforests at night, and you could barely eke out a word before seemingly using up every bit of air in your lungs, like a newborn babe that only knew how to cry.

you didn't know how to tell all of this to alhaitham. sorry, can i go change into better clothes first? can i save this hug for another time when i'm completely sane and sober to take full advantage of it? can you wait till i ice my eyes so i can look at you properly?

instead, what came out of your mouth was: “i'm disgusting right now.”

he hummed, and you weren't sure if it was his i'm-considering-how-to-reply-to-this-idiotic-situation hum or i-see-where-you're-coming-from hum.

“i can see why you'd think that, but that's irrelevant.”

ah. so it was both.

“why do you want to hold me?”

“i want to see if i can do a better job than a desk,” he says, and you feel a smile ghost your face, only because you see him wearing one too. a small smile, simple like him.

“i probably smell really bad. i'm sweating so much right now.”

“that's fine. i'll stop breathing through my nose.”

“my eyes are really red too. it's not that i don't want to look at you, it's that i'm too embarrassed to.”

“i can just close my eyes.”

“my heart is pounding really painfully right now, and it's hard to talk.”

“i'll ask questions that are easy to answer then.”

finally, you relented. “...is it really okay?”

“yes.”

after you confirmed that he couldn't smell you and couldn't see you, you slowly inch from under the desk and into his lap, where he then wrapped his arms around you. not tightly or passionately, but a sort of reassuring grip—like he wouldn't let you fall.

“how does it feel?”

“you're probably better than my desk,” you laughed out, and the sound felt strange to your ears, just moments after you were alone and crying and hyperventilating under a desk in a room by yourself.

“glad to be of service.”

you laughed again. “i don't think even the other sages from the akademiya can ever get you to say those words.”

“because they can't. if any of them leapt into my arms asking for a hug, i'd redirect them to doctor zakariya.”

you laughed again, and you were glad you made him promise to close his eyes. the sight of alhaitham smiling slightly at you, and the sight of your smile looking at him would've convinced anyone that you were starstruck by him. you didn't feel up to being publicly humiliated at the moment.

the two of you spent the next few minutes—which felt like hours—in each other's embrace (well, yours in his, mostly), and soon your breathing steadied. from the high tides and low crests of your chest rising and falling asynchronously, it returned to the rhythm of the afternoon tides of port ormos.

although it was a difficult question to ask, you asked anyways. “are you not going to ask me what happened?”

“one of the six sins of any scholar under the akademiya is to interfere in human evolution,” he began, and you felt a smile coming before he even finished. “i assume it was your body's way of protecting you against a threat. although—”

he opened his eyes, and you would've tried to stop your smiling by any means before he could see you, but he was wearing a smile of his own, and you couldn't help but dig your fingers deeper into his arms.

“—the nature of the threat and it's scale remains unknown to me still. you have a way with handling problems, after all.”

you gave him a big smack on his chest, fists closed for maximum impact. “ouch!”

how did that hurt you instead of him?

“a good rule of self defense is hard parts against soft targets, and soft parts on hard targets. you shouldn't have closed your hand. a slap would work better.”

“how was i going to know your chest was literally rock hard?!”

“i thought you might have some inkling. i've noticed your stare a few times before.”

you wanted to throw yourself into the abyss.

you couldn't, so instead, you took his hand and bit his fingers as the next best thing.

a small ouch sounded from him, though you couldn't tell if it was genuine or for the sake of making you feel better. you laid your head back against his chest, arms now wrapped around him in return.

“thanks, alhaitham.”

“you're very welcome,” he muttered in response, and you almost didn’t hear him.

“you’re not going to tell me that the solution is simple, or that i was the one that caused this thing in myself?”

he hummed.

“no,” he started, and you wanted to collapse in relief. “i am a scholar of haravatat, not amurta. i don’t understand the subject matter enough to say in any confidence or plausibility that the way your—or anyone’s—body works is simple. if it was that simple, then we wouldn’t have an entire field dedicated to it. and i do wish it were that simple, sometimes. then perhaps so many scholars wouldn’t have written audacious sounding proposals that i’d have to read thoroughly just to reject.”

you snickered. “what does haravatat’s wisdom has to say about me?”

for a moment, you see his eyes soften, straying away from yours.

“that your body failing you is not a moral or intellectual inadequacy on your part. that we do not have full control of ourselves, even if we would like to. that, perhaps…”

“perhaps?”

his gaze returns to you. “...perhaps, we are all more fallible than we see ourselves.”

“only you see yourself as infallible. i know very well how my body betrays me every second of every day. it’s one of the things that comes with being in touch with my own emotions, don’t you know?”

the teasing was meant to be lighthearted, as you knew he didn’t mean anything he said before in a dogged way. his words was not thorny on purpose like a bramble bush, just rough to the touch like a tongue’s cat. there were days where his words striked too much like an arrow through you, and days where the coarseness only brushed your ankles like standing in sand. you loved and cared for him despite that.

suddenly, he pulled you tighter against him, and you squeaked. “alhaitham? Is everything okay?”

no answer. you shifted in your position to make yourself more comfortable, and with whatever left strength you could muster, you rub your hands over his back in calm, soothing circles. “there, there.”

your voice reverberated through your body, and you continued to hold him reassuringly, hoping that enough exposure to having him be so close to you would cure your racing heart and your voice, almost crumbling at his touch.

it was good how self conscious of yourself you were. then, you wouldn’t be able to tell that his heart was racing, too.

***

the third time he finds you, it was not so much being found as it was being chased.

it was just one of those days that went wrong in every way it could’ve gone wrong. you stubbed your toe after getting out of the shower, your research project was going nowhere despite your multiple reminders to your groupmates, and even the way the sticky-sweet baklava clung to your teeth annoyed you.

worst of all, you had a fight with alhaitham.

now that you think of it, it could hardly be called a fight. you’ve seen full-grown adults in akademiya gowns act pettier in a structured debate, and you were sure that if you had asked alhaitham—truly asked, with no contempt or malice—he would’ve presented to you a perfectly reasonable explanation why he didn’t act like an asshole and moreso sounded like one.

right. the only person that was taking things too seriously was you. it had always been you.

it wasn’t that you wanted to be less emotional. you had spent too much time in your formative younger years denying the fact that you simply felt things more deeply, more quickly, than others. it was difficult to accept that you simply had thinner skin than most people—that, on a bad day, the veil of privacy that stood between your emotions and the outside world was nothing but sheer silk that fluttered all too easily with an evening breeze.

the ‘fight’ was nothing spectacular, either. It wasn’t as if you two were having an intellectual discussion as two scholars, rigorously going through peer review on a research paper. it wasn’t as if neither of you would come out of it having respected each other a little less.

but, like the person that you are, so tethered to the heart that it kept your feet frozen sometimes, it had hurt you deeply.

it truly was nothing spectacular. you simply wanted to vent about your terrible groupmates, and you thought that it would be nothing more than a venting session over drinks, getting sober, and then buckling down to do the job once you were ready again in the morning.

but it escalated. he, also seemingly irritable that night, kept bringing up questions, solutions, to your dismay. at any other time, you would’ve let it slide and shelved it as simply alhaitham being alhaitham—a man who wanted life to be simple and easy, fixing problems before they sprung. however, what you needed that night was not a fixer or a tinkerer with all his haravatat wisdom. you needed alhaitham the drinking buddy, the one that would foot the bill, the one that held you in his arms and wanted to be of more comfort than the desk you hid under.

“i just wish you would just—listen!”

“i am listening. it’s just that it’s difficult to keep my words to myself, seeing as this problem can be easily fixed, if you weren’t so fixated on unnecessary things.”

“unnecessary? i don’t like them, but it doesn’t mean that i want to snitch on them!”

“what’s stopping you? they clearly don’t respect you. who else can they blame but themselves as the logical consequence of their actions if you do tell on them? they are adults in their own capacity, and the akademiya is not a place for people to loiter around, seeking for forgiveness for one’s own incompetence. their lesson is theirs to learn.”

“i have my own way of fixing things, alhaitham. you may not care about other people’s feelings, but i do! and i’d rather work it out clearly with them rather than resort to underhanded tactics just to have my life go a little smoother.”

“then tell me, why hasn’t your way of fixing problems worked? only an idiot would employ the same methods over and over again, hoping it’ll work the next time.”

he didn’t call you an idiot directly, but he didn’t have to. the insult found its way to you just the same.

even if you did, you couldn’t fully deny it either. in the perspective of alhaitham, perhaps everyone else other than him was a dimwit full of hot air. the thought that the same applied to you, who you thought had a pretty close relationship with him, stung the most.

he had tried to talk to you and reach out multiple times (although, by your estimates, his attempts were somewhat weak and clumsy), and you kept him out of your house with a badly made sign that said ‘TRESPASSERS BEWARE’ above an aranara carving that looked—in your opinion—pretty scary.

on these days, it was difficult. you couldn’t touch yourself, feeling so raw that you feared that wherever your hand brushed, you would come away bleeding.

there were at least some good news though: your groupmates finally decided to cooperate with you for the project, and you were extremely thankful for it. it turns out that they all had personal issues that made it difficult to speak out on, and now that they realised that you wouldn’t judge them for whatever excuse they may have, they confided in you, and everything went as smoothly as you could hope for.

the four of you celebrated at the tavern, drinks in hand at 3 p.m. in the afternoon. the boss, seeing this particular group of inebriated students, simply shook his head and smiled defeatedly. by the time the sky changed colours, only you were left sitting alone at your table after having escorted the other three to their homes to get some well-earned rest. you would have left soon after, if not only for the fact that you had ‘bumped’ into alhaitham and he ordered a drink to have at your table.

“i was right,” was the first thing you said to him, and you enjoyed the look on his face when the words left your mouth. “i was right. everything turned out like i hoped it would.”

he tilted his head. “surely you can’t expect for luck and fortunate circumstances to befall you every time?”

“i don’t. i don’t, but… i’ll keep doing what i’m doing. i like it when everyone is happy. things won’t always go the way i want them to, but i’ll keep doing it, because it’s important to me that i try to give everyone the benefit of the doubt, that i don’t walk the easy road if it means i’ve passed by something meaningful just to suffer a little less in my own life.”

“you sound like kaveh.”

you chuckled. “that sounds like a compliment to me. thank you.”

when his drink arrived, alhaitham nudged it your way across the table. you raised a brow. “what’s this for?”

“to say i’m sorry.”

“words aren’t enough for you?”

“words are only enough for people who trust others to tell the truth,” he paused, then added: “and i don’t.”

you hummed, then leaned back in your chair. “pretend, then, that we are two people who trust each other to tell the truth, and that we would believe in each other no matter what. what would you say?”

his green-red eyes flickered, and you didn’t know from what. if it was with other people, you could hazard a guess, sure—but alhaitham was different from the people you’ve met, and you did not want to presume what his heart feels.

(even if he claims that it’s only there to keep him alive.)

“when i couldn’t see you, i still thought of you, and i didn’t know what to do. i want to apologise for insulting you with my words, even if i didn’t mean to. i failed to calculate the exact way they had sounded until it reached my own ears and i saw how hurt you were.”

you said nothing, but nodded slightly as a go-on.

“i like it when things are simple, but that didn’t mean i wanted you to be simple. i just wanted things to be simple for you, and i unreasonably tried to force my perspective onto yours and ended up hurting you in the process. and for that…” he seemed to have trouble wrangling the words out of his throat, and you would’ve laughed if he didn’t look so pained. you reached out for his hand on the table, resting yours atop his. “...and for that, i am deeply sorry.”

you hummed. another moment to savour.

there was still one more thing you needed to clear up, though.

“...do you think i’m an idiot?”

unlike mere moments ago, the words shot out of his mouth before he even tried to rein them in. “no. not at all. i’ve never once thought you were.”

you smiled at him, somewhat self-deprecatingly. “but you don’t like how emotional i am.”

“it’s not a matter of liking or disliking. your emotions serve a purpose in your decision-making. it’s simply that… i do not like the experience of having to see you go through things that hurt you, even if you’re willing to do so.”

ah, so that’s what it is.

“alhaitham, do you care about me?”

his eyes, previously unfocused, darted back to meet your unflinching gaze. “have my actions indicated otherwise?”

you couldn’t help it. you snorted. “alhaitham, the line between caring for a person’s wellbeing out of courtesy rather than concern is a very thin line. at least, for the rest of us who you might call ‘drama queens’ and ‘fake socialites’.”

maybe he didn’t realise it, but his brows scrunched under your scrutiny, and you couldn’t help but feel joy at the fact that you made alhaitham, someone so aloof and disenchanted, truly perplexed.

“do you not know the answer already?”

“i do,” you say, and you were sure that your smile was infuriating him now. “i just wanted to hear you say it.”

a silence between both of you, even though the tavern was filled with the sound of chatter and the tinkling of dishes and cutlery.

“i do care for you. deeply. does this answer satisfy you?”

“yep!” you smiled, and alhaitham wasn’t one to offer prayers of gratitude to the sevens above, but he was glad that you were so self-conscious of yourself to be blind to the way he leaned forward in his seat, his one hand tightly clutched under the table, and the way he wished he could bottle your smile and indulge in it on a rainy day, if he could.

ah well, alhaitham thought, tomorrow is another day without them realising.

#alhaitham x reader #genshin x reader #alhaitham x you #genshin x you #genshin fics: mine #alhaitham #alhaitham fanfic #genshin fanfic #genshin x reader hurt comfort

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paddockbunny · 1 year

Text

One

Summary: Aria Armund is hired by Alpine as an "image guardian" for a reluctant Pierre Gasly - AKA she is hired to be his "babysitter". What happens as the season progresses and both of them have their buttons pressed by the other? And what happens when one of them suggests making a rather interesting bet? Rating: 18+. Pairing : Pierre Gasly x Aria Armund (OC) Word Count : 4,418 Trigger Warnings : 18+, NSFW, misogynistic Pierre, language, mention of sex & blowjobs, descriptions of women's bodies etc. 💞Authors Note : This is going to be written from a first person narrative and will switch from Aria's POV and Pierre's POV. No idea how long this will be but I'm considering posting every race day (not sure yet due to work commitments, as usual). OH, and if you want to be added to a tag list then please comment on the newest chapter's before I make a dedicated page for it!!

Pierre

I let out a long, laboured sigh as I slide into the car. I really didn’t want to be doing this. I would much rather have been still in bed with Jessica - or was it Jenna or maybe Jennie, fuck maybe it was Julie? It began with a J in any case. And anyway, who fucking cares?! All that mattered was I had to peel myself away from her this morning to get to the factory on time for this dumb as fuck meeting. A groan escaped me as I suddenly remembered how fucking phenomenal Jessica (Jenna, Jennie or Julie) was at giving head and how I would much rather be getting sucked off right now rather than go to this boring meeting where some big wigs will talk AT me not TO me for a few hours and waste my day.

Ben opens the door on the other side of the car and gets in. He slides into the back next to me and I can’t help but glance over at him as as he checks his watch and tuts about the fact we’re going to be late. I let him stew instead of answering him. There’s no point. Last year I realised pretty quickly he was one of those types of guys. The ones that were so regimented and anal about doing things right and on time that even a minute behind schedule and he would be having an internal meltdown. I just let him do what he wants without input from me. So I pull my phone from my jeans pocket and smirk to myself when I see a DM from a Jocelyn Silva pop up - JOCELYN! Her name was Jocelyn! - so I click on it and it’s a photo. She’s lying in the bed I had just left her in throwing the camera some “come hither eyes” with a tiny little pout dancing across her full (filler injected) lips. But I only fleetingly glance at her face, it’s lower that I pay more attention too and the fact the bedsheet barely covered her exquisite boobs and the deep sun kissed glow from her tanned skin. I’m sure she said she was a model or trying to be a model and really, it wasn’t a stretch to imagine her in a bikini or lingerie in front of a camera. I swallow instinctively upon remembering what she tasted like last night before actually reading the text that went along with her provocative pic.

Jocelyn_S_Silva: 💋 last night was fun Papi, let’s do it again sometime?xxx

Was it too soon to ask if she would be down for tonight? That picture she sent was enough to give me blue balls for the rest of the day. I clear my throat so I don’t laugh aloud at how ridiculous I sounded. No pussy was that good to go chasing after so quickly. So I sent a stock response back;

PierreGasly: until we do…give me something to remember you by?🍑

And click off my phone to stare out of the window hoping I could stay in control of the blood rushing down toward my dick. It was raining (again) in England. The country looked so dull and grey in comparison to some of the other places we visited with the travelling circus that was F1 but they wanted me here, in Enstone for a meeting ahead of flying out for testing next week. Ben’s ear had already been significantly chewed off about that. I was supposed to be at the PSG match tonight, had a date lined up and everything - Aletta Dekker, sister of Lars Dekker the Dutch tennis player. We’d gone out a few times, fucked a lot, but I actually got on well with her. We could chat without feeling the need for it to go anywhere. It was just some fun with no strings attached. I didn’t have the balls to let her down over the phone so chickened out and text her saying I needed a rain check. The irony now as the rain hammered down on the car as we drove down a monotonous English motorway was not lost on me.

It took close to two hours to get to the factory. I never stayed near it simply because there was fucking nothing there so we’d come up from London to the factory and go back when the day was over. It wasn’t like all those years at AT where you could at least be in the beautiful Italian countryside and take in the stunning landscapes out the window, not fields and copious amounts of cows and sheep. When we finally pulled in front of the building where all the offices and important rooms with important people in them were, Ben finally asked if I knew what this was all about. Seriously, he didn’t even question this random meeting until the moment he stepped out of the car and I couldn’t help but shake my head at him. I liked Ben, he had become a good friend over the course of last year. It’s hard not to grow close to someone you see pretty much every day and does everything with you.

“No idea.” I told him as he rounded the back of the car as I shut the car door. “Hope I’m getting a raise for dealing with all that shit last year though.” Ben laughed at my words, which weren’t intended as a joke but must have sounded like one. As two of the guys from Alpine came out from the building to greet us, apologise for the bad weather and issue us inside my phone buzzed in my pocket and I wondered if that was the photo I had asked that Jocelyn girl for earlier. Took her time didn’t she? I made sure I didn’t scoff and tried to stay professional as we walked through the building while the guys I had met a million times before talked about the weather and asked me if it was better in Paris - clearly not clocking the tan I was sporting to realise I had certainly not spent my winter break in Paris.

“We’re just in here, Pierre.” The shorter, more rotund one of the two opened the door and held it open for me. I’d been in here before. It was where I had that big meeting with the big bosses after the incident in Singapore but the less said about that the better. I recognised everyone in the room. Otmar and the like were all sitting around the oval table and got up immediately to welcome me. But my eyes were firmly trained on the mass of long brown curls and feminine shoulders that were still sat at the table facing away from me. This was a new addition. There hadn’t usually been a woman at these meetings before. I glance around and confirmed no one had been fired and I hadn’t found out. So maybe she was just a new PR girl or one of the girls that worked in the offices at the factory. Otmar suggested I take a seat and so I did. The mystery girls head turned slightly, enough that I could make out some of her features. Cute straight nose, naturally full lips and high as hell cheekbones. She had to have only been around 23 or 24 perhaps? But maybe I was wrong and she only just looked younger - I wasn’t the best at women’s ages and my I knew better than to presume I knew anything about the feminine being anyway - anyway, as Otmar started speaking I would be sure to find out exactly who this new addition was.

“As you know, at the end of last season I told you I would be discussing things with some of our bosses and whatnots at the end of year review we have. The big debrief meeting where all the heads of department get together and talk about the good things and the not so good things that happened and how we could look to improve in the future. Y’know, like our race debriefs at the end of a race day….” Yeah Otmar, I know, I’m not fucking stupid get to to point. I pull my leg up and rest my ankle upon my opposite knee while I sit back in the chair and nod in the right places. “Well, one of the things that kept coming up was the tension between yourself and Esteban and the incidents that arose last year.” He means him running me off the track at two separate races, trying to break test me anytime I was behind him, me bashing him in front of the cameras any chance I got but it was probably, the public near fight caught by cameras in Singapore when I tried to get my own back by flirting with his girlfriend that was what he was really referring too.

“Pierre with your results last year there’s no doubt of your future within the team but the negative attention the pair of you have garnered has raised a lot of concern.” “Otmar I…” I was going to tell him it takes two to tango and if this conversation was happening with me it better be happening with Ocon too. He was as much to blame for last year as I was. But a hand made me pause while he continued. “However, after some deliberation on how to resolve the conflict and how we can possibly move in a more positive direction for all of us involved. We have decided to bring in an image guardian.” I look at him like he’s grown another head. What the fuck was an image guardian? And that was when I saw his hand flick over toward the girl that had momentarily occupied my mind before Otmar started talking.

This time, when I looked over at her, she was looking straight back at me with quite possibly a pair of the most striking blue eyes I had ever seen before. A soft, sincere smile spread across her lips as her hand rose from her lap in a “that’s me” gesture. Fuck, I couldn’t help but imaging those eyes staring up at me while she had her lips wrapped around my cock. Which involuntarily twitched in my jeans while I had to blink a few times to make sure I wasn’t daydreaming. The words “image guardian” were still ringing in my ears so I most certainly in reality and not a twisted dreamland. “Sorry, what exactly is an image guardian?” I had truthfully never heard of the term and was one hundred percent certain they were making this up. “Well, we felt that the added pressure that the press and marketing teams had to face last year was rather, unfair to them. Their jobs turned into looking after or, perhaps that’s not the right words, making sure the both of you were looked after which meant some of those PR people weren’t as focused on their jobs as maybe they should have been.” I knew he was indirectly referring to Claudia without actually wanting to say her name but the less said about her the better. “So we created the role of an image guardian specifically to make sure your own PR game is onboard with ours. Someone who can liaise from your side with regards to meeting the needs of the team.”

Things took a minute to click in. He was bullshitting. This was a totally made up job so they could make someone my fucking nanny. “A babysitter?” I exclaimed loudly, my anger clearly evident in my voice and body language mimicking it. My foot fell back to the floor and I leaned in. “I don’t need a fucking babysitter.” I glance back over toward this girl whose name I didn’t even know (but who moments ago I had envisioned fucking) that was now labelled as my fucking au pair. “Pierre, it’s image guardian and we feel that you do.” Otmars voice changed tone. He was now not as breezy has he had been. He turned direct and much more commanding. “This is bullshit.” “Esteban has also been given an image guardian who will consult regularly with Miss Armund to ensure a more harmonious season this year. I can’t stress enough how this needs to work, Pierre. You know what can happen if it doesn’t.” I fucking knew. I had seen how people like Ricciardo and Mick Schumacher had been treated. Fuck! How I myself had been treated a few years ago at Red Bull. But a minder? Really? “And what is it she’ll do?” “I think Miss Armund is best to talk to you about that.”

“Hi…” She was nervous. She took a pause after simply saying hello. I was probably glaring at her like I wanted to set her on fire which might not have helped, but rage ran through my veins like boiling hot lava. “Firstly, I just want to introduce myself. I’m Aria Armund. I was born and raised in France till I was 10 and then moved here to England so if you want to talk to me in French you can, I’m bilingual.” There was a pause when she looked at me and I could tell she was waiting for me to say something polite (probably in French) but absolutely nothing came to mind that I wanted to say to her. She took a little breath in and it was usually while I was giving girls the come on when they got this nervous around me. I rolled my eyes and pressed my tongue to the roof of my mouth as the pause seemed to get longer. I observed her straightening up and let out a quick exhale. She seemed to be gathering herself and I clocked her little touch of the bracelet on her wrist as if it was somehow giving her the strength to keep going.

“So basically, what I’m here to do is to look after you. You’re not particularly incorrect in thinking I’m a “babysitter” as you called it. My sole purpose is to keep you out of trouble. To minimise any issues you may have with your team mate and prevent them from leaking into the media. I’ll also help make sure your image doesn’t suffer from all of your liaisons with various….friends, and you don’t end up on the gossip pages as you have done in previous years. I’ll make sure your reputation and that of Alpine isn’t damaged in any way, shape or form.” Where did her sudden directness come from? Her nerves seemed to evaporate immediately. It was confusing it happened at such breakneck speed. But how she managed to take control of herself and take charge was nothing shorter than a major turn on. She could take control of me anytime she wanted. “Ok?” She smiled and it was now on me.

I had nothing to say or at least nothing came to mind as those swimming pool blue eyes stared into mines like they were trying to read my mind. As she turned her head away and Otmar went to speak suddenly a question did pop into my head. “Who does Ocon have?” I asked the question in the direction of her turned head. When she looked away some of her glossy curled locks fell across her shoulder and drew my attention directly to her ample chest. She was a woman - very much a woman - and I had a horrible feeling that Alpine might have been trying to set me up for failure. What with everything that happened with Claudia. “Excuse me?” Otmar seemed confused. “Who is looking after Ocon? You said he had a babysitter too.” In those minutes my question went unanswered, I hoped it would click on someone’s brain about why I was asking and I wouldn’t actually have to fucking say it. “Uh….” Otmar sat back in his chair and narrowed his eyes at me in a fashion that told me he twigged and he realised the intonation behind my questioning. He didn’t expect me to react like this, did he? During the increasingly awkward pause I fully believed that he was imposing this girl on me as a way to trip me up so he could get rid of me at the end of the year. If Esteban got a guy babbysitter then there was my answer. He would be getting off with his dickhead behaviour last year. “Mr Ocon’s guardian is Kyle Gilby.” Aria spoke up and I let out a quick exhale of air. Why the fuck did this not surprise me? I knew it. I could sense it from the way Otmar was staring at me. Ocon gets someone he can talk to, level with and I get stuck with her? Typical. “Is there a problem Mr Gasly?” Fuck her calling me Mr Gasly. Girls only usually called me that in the bedroom, not a boardroom.

I pretend there isn’t but there is. The whole thing is totally fucked but what can I do? I don’t want thrown out my seat so I have to play ball. And if that means I have to have a babysitter then fine, I’ll do it. This whole thing was feeling like a massive, risky, fucked up game of temptation? I made an audible scoff because I know where this is going and I know she won’t last long meaning they’ll probably get their way. I can’t help the fact I was born a flirt and women always fell for it. I’d give it two or three months before they’ll be having conduct meetings with me after she breaks her fraternisation contract clause after firing her for sleeping with the person she’s there to manage. It’s happened before and it will happen again. After all, it’s their own fault for hiring someone that would look more at home in Playboy or Sports Illustrated than working in an F1 team. They seriously couldn’t have hired someone less, tempting? They couldn’t have given her to Ocon and at least pretend they weren’t setting me up for failure?

Thankfully the meeting was over rather quickly. There were orders to go with her somewhere so she could do something or other and go over stuff but by that point I was zoned out. I cancelled my plans for this? They could have just told me over the phone. I didn’t need to be here in person when it would have been a quick email. I try not to sigh when I lean forward in my chair to get up but notice her move first. When she rises from her seat I can’t help but cast my eyes over her body. A perfect rack was hidden behind a satin-y type blouse and her smart, tight trousers did little to stem my attention away from her perky, peachy rear practically begging to be spanked. I was right. Playboy or Sports Illustrated. She would look so pretty on her knees. Give it a few weeks, I tell myself. By Miami she’ll be begging for me. I can tell.

Fifteen minutes later we were sat in a smaller, more bland impersonal office while she tried to convince me to hand over my social media passwords. “Mr Gasly, I assure you that your accounts and information will be safe with me. I simply need access in order to keep on top of any potential Alpine related business.” She was getting me riled up at this point. “Last year I believe there were, incidents, over social media with some questionable comments?” She was referring to the emoji’s wasn’t she? The PR girls laughed about them last year but she said it with a straight face. “I simply need to be able to delete anything that would be unsavoury toward your own reputation and the team.” “Telling people my favourite sex position through an emoji is not damaging to my reputation or the team.” I retort back with a smooth laugh. I thought it would throw her but the silence and stoney face I was met with made me push it even further. I smirked before adding; “it’s the dog by the way.” Nothing. Absolutely nothing. I couldn’t recall the last time I wasn’t able to flirt and smooth talk a girl into at least raising a smile. But there was nothing from her. “It’s the dog because my favourite position is doggy…” “Yes, I gathered that Mr Gasly.” She hastily shut me up and I noticed her roll her eyes. Was she not into men? Maybe that’s why my forwardness wasn’t doing it for her.

“Please, your passwords.” I watched as slowly she placed her pen on top of a notepad and pushed it across the glass topped table toward me. Her eyes didn’t leave mine. They stayed trained on me as if she had gone through military training. Unflinching. I would have been complaining if they weren’t so fucking captivating. You could get lost in these eyes.

“Earn them.” I glanced over toward Ben and smirked again. It was a game at this point. I couldn’t help myself. “Excuse me?” “I said, earn them.” I didn’t even know where this was going or why it was coming out of my mouth. I just went with it. I liked how women would squirm a little when I turned it on and I desperately wanted to know she was eating out of the palm of my hand, so sue me. But if I expected her to crumble like all of the others she surprised me. She sat back in her chair and took a deep breath before exhaling. For a brief second I thought I won and I managed to rattle her but unfortunately for me, apparently not.

“Listen, looking after a twenty-seven year old self confessed playboy is not something I thought I would be doing when I got this job so if you think your flirting will have an effect on me and I will pull a Claudia, was it? Then you are very much mistaken.” It was I that was rumbled. And she had to mention last years indiscretion by name so she had clearly been told all about it - or had she read about it online and didn’t need anyone else’s judgment about it to pass her own judgment on to me? “Now…Mr Gasly, your passwords.” Touché. Fucking Touché.

I reached for the pen and notepad and noted how much I felt like a child. It was as if I had been sent to the Alpine School’s principle’s office for being naughty in class. As I wrote down the passwords for her highness, my phone buzzed again in my jeans pocket and it suddenly l dawned on me that she would see everything I received. She would see all of the DMs I was sent along with the mountains of nudes (such as those waiting on me from last nights hook-up) that various girls sent me, mostly without a single shred of prompting. I should probably have felt a little embarrassed or ashamed by them in all fairness but for some reason - probably because she was acting like a fake ball buster she actually was one - I wasn’t. Let her look. There’s probably a fair few suggestive ones of myself on there she could find too if she really wanted too. I cursed the route of thought my own mind suddenly drove me down as now I was imagining her sliding her hand down past the waistband of her tight trousers to get off on the risqué pics I had floating around in some conversations. But she didn’t seem like the type. Fortunately for me the passwords were enough to appease her, for now. She smiled - a fake one of course - and said that was all, I could leave before adding she would would see me at testing. She would be at testing? This girl was really going to be sticking to me like glue, wasn’t she?

Thankfully, this whole fiasco was clearly coming to an end and I glanced toward the door and was desperately trying to think of something smart to say and a way to get out of here. I didn’t want to hang around for any longer than I needed to and certainly not long enough for her to continue getting one over on me or getting a metaphorical upper hand again, but it looked like she had and there was nothing I could do. When I happened to look toward Ben I realised he was smirking and clearly holding back a laugh. He was married and so never really joined in (nor understood) with the flirting and flustering behaviour I was king at. Now, after I had lost the opening match against her, it was as if he could read my startled little mind and I certainly didn’t like that. I arose out if my seat opposite my new babysitter and stared at her for a moment. I couldn’t help but wonder if she had ever worked in F1 - or even just a sport - before because she didn’t act like how all the girls usually acted around guys in sport. She simply seemed unimpressed. Stoic almost. “Goodbye, Mr Gasly.” A normal girl would be turned on by saying that over and over again. By now imagining how it would feel to be bent over the glass desk and having me rail them into next week. But she used it formally, professionally and without a single shred of sarcasm. I just about managed to get to the door to the office when my phone buzzed loudly one more time and I paused to remove it from my pocket.

“I hope that isn’t something I am going to have to get involved in?” Her sweet, soft voice echoed from behind and my sudden laughter filled the room as my brain had come up with the most perfect of perfect responses. “Not unless you want to make it a threesome?” I didn’t hang around long enough for her to respond and mentally high fives myself for my quick retort. She lead herself into it and my brain couldn’t catch up to my mouth. She may have been hired to be my babysitter, but that didn’t mean I had to make it easy for her.

#pierre gasly #pierre gasly fanfiction #pierre gasly fanfic #pierre gasly fic #pierre gasly series #pierre gasly x oc #pierre gasly imagine #pierre gasly imagines #pierre gasly multi chapter #f1 smut #f1 fanfiction #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1 imagines #f1 imagine #f1 series #f1 x oc #bet trope #grumpy sunshine trope

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seravphs · 1 year

Text

ੈ♡˳·˖✶ — SAE x ROOKIE ACTRESS! FEM READER

They call it tinseltown for a reason. Hollywood’s all gilded glamor hiding roots of deep rot, and you’re tired of acting your ass off just for your role to be given to the next pretty thing with a famous father. Itoshi Sae could be your ticket to stardom - if only he’ll agree.

wc — 3k

tags — briefly Sae’s POV before it switches into yours, fake dating, brief mention of dieting

Sae is sick of many things. He’s sick of the Japanese media attention. He’s sick of his little brother blowing up his phone with messages during the thirty minutes of screen time he’s allowed in Blue Lock; sick of the way he stopped by day thirty with no response.

He’s sick of being reminded over and over that he isn’t good enough. Every interview is the same question over and over again, like if they rephrase it enough, they can catch him in his lie. He never slips. He tells them he likes being a midfielder.

He’s sick of the way longing still surges up in his throat when he watches the Blue Lock boys play, sick of how much effort it takes to tamp it down. It took him years to come to terms with the bleeding mess of his shattered dreams, but it never stops hurting. It always aches, remembering that he’ll never be a striker again. It’s a dream he has to give up fresh each time, trying to cling to the memory of failing in Spain so he doesn’t go chasing after it again like some dumb hound.

Football is the cruelest mistress. She always gives Sae just enough hope to want her more. He has to leash his desires so he doesn’t go running after it into traffic, eyes still only on the prize, ignoring all danger.

Most of all, Sae’s sick of galas.

Forget being the best midfielder, he’s probably the best player in all of Japan right now. With Japanese football at such a standstill, everyone is looking to him to lead them into a new future, as if one good midfielder can suddenly make up for a whole team.

Sae thinks the lot of them are two faced assholes. They look down on him as someone who chose the second best option after failing at striking, but want him to become the star of their delusions. Japan’s football will never be good enough to stand at their world stage, and he was just unlucky enough to be born here, in this country that can’t offer him soil to sprout in.

So he turns down invite after invite until finally, his manager does something that’s not allowed. He goes over his head to the one authority he’s not allowed to defy, and tells Sae’s mom. One explosive fight in his hotel room later, he finds himself standing in the world’s most uncomfortable suit, playing nice with nepo babies and elderly diplomats.

“That’s him,” your publicist says, pointing out a man with green eyes and red hair standing alone in a corner of the room. His suit is tailored impeccably to his body. He has a glass of champagne in one hand that he hasn’t touched once, and mostly uses to wave people off when they try to approach him.

“Don’t point,” you hiss, slapping her hand down in embarrassment. Technically everything about this meeting has already been orchestrated, but it’s still embarrassing.

“Jeez, fine,” she grumbles, rubbing her smarting hand. “That’s the guy. Wine and dine him, do whatever you gotta do - at the very least, get a few pictures of you two acting cozy if you can’t get him interested for real. I can take it from there.”

She makes it sound easy, but really it’s not. You’ve been circling the room for the last five minutes waiting for an opening, laughing obnoxiously at boring jokes with an overdone, “oh, you’re so funny,” and bitterly fielding questions like, “wait, who are you?”

Finally, you spot your chance.

When Sae sees you coming over, he makes an expression that says fuck off so clearly it’s stopped multiple people before from interacting with him. It doesn’t stop you because you’re desperate.

You're not a B-list actress. You’re not even on the tier, so below the radar in your unrecognized little roles as barista #1 or background character #12. You need him to make it big. No, you need his name. Being attached to Japan’s favorite boy genius will propel you to stardom better than your own talents will.

At the end of the day, it’s not about how well you can act. You can cry so bitterly your director takes the day off to call his therapist. In your latest horror role, you screamed with such genuine horror they cut your scene because you, as an extra, couldn’t detract attention from the main actor. When you laugh, people giggle with you, regardless of whether or not the joke is funny.

None of this matters when you don’t have the pull to get roles big enough to show your skill off. You could be the most talented actress in the world, but stuck in your side gigs, no one will ever know.

You grab a glass of sparkling pink alcohol of some kind off a waiter’s try with a whispered thank you, down half of it for courage, and try to walk over to Sae in as dignified a manner as you can manage. He doesn’t seem very impressed.

“Hey, handsome,” you give him your most winning smile. You’re dressed in your best tonight. Your agency even hired a makeup artist to bring out your best features.

He gives you a strained smile, purposefully so that you’ll know how put upon he is being here, being annoyed by people like you who all want something from him. He’s not wrong to be a little pissed. You still think it’s kind of a dick move.

Regardless of his personality, it’s his fame you want. You sidle in closer, looking at him from beneath lowered lashes. The press is going to love this.

“You’re looking pretty lonely,” you say, wincing at every word that comes out of your mouth. “Want some company?”

“How lukewarm,” he says, acerbically. “You don’t seriously think that’s going to work on me, do you?”

Your mouth almost drops at how straightforward he is. Still, you can’t give up. Your manager should’ve prepared you better - in your head, you curse her out.

“No need to be rude,” you say. Oops. Too on the nose? You bulldoze forward. “I thought-“

“Just tell me what you want.”

“Um.”

“If you waste my time, I’m not going to listen,” he says, already turning away.

“Wait,” you say, grabbing his arm. “Please.”

He raises an eyebrow and gestures you on. Clearly, his time is worth something.

You want that. The ease of power, the casualness with which Sae wields it. You’ve wanted it your whole life, since you were singing in school musicals, craving the applause, wanting the adoration like a drug. You try to inject your voice with every drop of that desperation, hoping he understands.

“I have a deal for you. If you’ll agree to pretend to be my boyfriend for six months, I’ll attend every single one of these galas with you and help keep people off your back. Trust me, I’m great at navigating these things. I was doing it before I came to talk to you.”

“Oh, you’re drunk,” he laughs.

You’re affronted by this careless reaction. It makes sense, after all. He doesn’t know anything about you. But for you, this is a career you’re willing to do anything for, and he’s insulted it with his blasé attitude. You grab him by the tie and pull him closer.

“I’m not drunk,” you snarl. “I have wanted to be an actress my whole damn life, and I need this. Do you have any idea how it feels to know you have the skills, the talent, the dedication to do something, be something, and be denied all because you were born at the wrong place at the wrong time? I love my parents, but I will never get a role because of them. You see that actress over there? She’s talented, I can’t deny it, but her family has been in the industry for three generations. That one? Her dad paid for her debut album to sell out. The girl with the blonde pigtails? Her mom was a famous idol. You can’t become anything in the entertainment world if you don’t already have an edge. You can’t just be talented, there has to be something special about you.”

Sae stares at you, stunned. All at once, you’re embarrassed by your little monologue, and you step away from him.

“Sorry.”

He licks his lips, hesitant to say something. There’s a strange vulnerability on his face, like he was just walking along, minding his own business, and here you are with the nerve to crack him open and find his deepest insecurities, all by accident.

He doesn’t normally pay attention to sob stories, but yours sticks in his head. How many times has he wished he was born elsewhere, to some other set of parents, only to feel violently regretful at his ingratitude? He wants to say something, but he’s not sure what he would say.

Sorry?

Same?

It turns out it doesn’t matter anyways, because at this point, you’ve tuned out him out in favor of the waiter you’ve just spotted carrying another tray of drinks.

Before you can grab a fresh glass - this one’s a gradient of blue and purple, your brain registers excitedly - Sae pins your hand down.

“We’re good,” he tells the waiter. “Wait. Leave a plate of the canapes please. Make that two. Yeah, thanks.”

You wrench your hand out of his angrily. You can’t afford to piss him off, not when you’ve been trying to cozy up to him all night, but your brain is slightly too foggy to register the ramifications of your actions anymore. You feel delightfully warm and light and also furious he stole your drink from you. Quickly, the fury turns to disappointment.

“Why did you do that?” You whine.

“You’re too drunk. Eat something.”

“I’m not-“

He shoves the canapé into your mouth. There’s a certain twist to his lips that could be amusement or disgust as he watches you chew, then swallow, then moan, which is only half exaggerated for him.

The canapé has wagyu on it.

You’re already reaching for the next one. Sae calls another waiter over and gets you plates of chocolate truffles, sushi, and fruit skewers.

“Oh my god,” your eyes are practically closed in bliss as you take bite after bite. “Oh my god. Is this what you all eat at these events? Holy shit. My mouth is in heaven right now.”

“I wouldn’t know,” he says. “I rarely come to these things. You’re not eating enough to soak up all that alcohol you drank. Get your stuff, we’re leaving.”

You perk up. Is it that easy? Mission over? All you had to do was drink too much wine, make a fool of yourself, and devour a handful of wagyu crackers, and you’ve bagged Itoshi Sae?

“Snap out of it. It’s not like that,” he sighs. “Can you imagine how it’ll look if I’ve been talking to you all night and you end it drunk out of your mind?”

Your publicist gives you a double thumbs up when she sees you leave with Sae. Thankfully, he doesn’t seem to notice. To his annoyance, he has to support you all the way to the parking garage. You’re dead weight in his arms. By the time you get to his car, he’s practically carrying you.

Sae’s car is a thing of beauty. It’s clean lines and elegance and silver all over. He could not give less of a shit about your effusive reaction to it.

“Give me directions for where you want to go,” he says.

His car purrs underneath you when he accelerates on the highway. He keeps a careful eye on the speed limit, but it hardly matters when the ride is so smooth it barely feels like you’re on the road at all. He rolls down the windows at your insistence so the cool night breeze fills the vehicle, your hair ruffled by the wind.

Sae’s face clearly says ‘This is not what I was thinking,’ when you arrive at your destination. Still, he doesn’t comment on it as he climbs out of his car, then helps you out of the passenger side as well. Glowing, neon yellow arches frame the sky as you throw your arms out and spin around in a circle, giggling. Your pretty dress, borrowed from a friend much more successful than you, flares out at the ankles as you twirl. Sae has to catch you when you nearly eat pavement, your balance completely disoriented.

“Why are you surprised? McDonald’s is the hangover food,” you say. “Greasy burgers and fries are the best for nights like this.”

His deadpan expression says he doesn’t get the hype before he chauffeurs you inside, still clinging to his arm. It’s part of the job, you insist to yourself as you hold onto him. It’s not because he’s strong and tall and broad and it feels nice pressed against his side.

Sae orders electronically and brings the food to you on a red tray. He doesn’t get anything for himself, choosing instead to pin you under his stare as you unwrap your burger. It makes you uncomfortable.

“Are you not going to eat?”

“Are you kidding me?” He says. “My dietician would kill me.”

“Boo,” you frown. You know exactly how it feels. “That’s not fair! You look great, a hamburger isn’t going to kill you.”

You’re slurring your words at this point. “Oh! Here, you can have some of mine. I won’t tell.” You punctuate the last bit with a giggle.

Sae takes a tiny, tiny bite of your burger, but you’re clearly not satisfied with it. You push it towards him again. He sighs. “I’ll get something.”

That something is a salad, but small victories are victories, you guess. Besides, you’re too hungry to care anymore. You devour your burger and sigh in happiness, enjoying the delicious taste of artificially manufactured goodness. Then you groan.

“You’re just never happy, are you?” Sae says. He’s picking at his salad, eating all the tomatoes first.

“We missed the main course because we left,” you whine, burying your head in your arms. “It was going to be catered by Yukihira Souma! That was my one chance to try his cooking, even if I could afford it, he has a waitlist three months long.”

“Mm-hm,” Sae says, completely distracted. He’s texting someone.

Your excitement dims a little, and you remember why you’re here.

“So. Did you think about my offer?”

“Your proposition, you mean?” He says, returning his attention to you.

“You make it sound so salacious! It’s just a naturally beneficial deal: you pretend to be my boyfriend for a month, and I’ll attend all of your events.”

“And why would I do that?” Sae drawls.

“Because I can be your buffer at these events. No one else is going to bother you if they think you already have a girlfriend, and I can do all the talking for us. I get tons of publicity, you get to ignore everyone else at these parties: win-win. You’d be a fool not to take this offer, really.”

He makes a soft sound.

“Is that laughter I hear?” You prod him in the chest with a finger. “No way. You can laugh? I didn’t think they programmed that into you.”

“Don’t be a brat,” he says, shut off and remote once again. It doesn’t matter - you made him laugh once, you can do it again. It was a bad idea to reveal that to you, because now you’re determined to hear it at least once more.

“Alright. Say I take your offer. What’s the deal with being your fake boyfriend?”

“I haven’t figured out the details yet,” you say blithely, trying to hide the fact that you didn’t think you’d get this far. “Obviously I’m okay with touching, kissing-“

You stumble over the last word, having never been kissed before. There’s a twinge in your heart at the idea of your first one being fake, but acting means everything to you. There’s a lot more you’re willing to give up than just childhood dreams of romance. Everything’s fake in Hollywood, anyways.

He’s laughing again, this time at you. You can’t even find it in your heart to be mad. “What are you getting all shy for?”

“Hey! Fake or not, we’re in a relationship now,” you hiss. “You have to be nice to me.”

“Nice, hm?” He gets up from his side of the booth and slides into yours. “I can do nice.”

Suddenly, all your senses are on high alert. Every nerve ending is on fire, suddenly tuning into Sae. This close, you can smell his cologne, aquatic and clean. He leans closer, hand sliding up your neck to cup your cheek. He’s so close you can count each of his eyelashes. You’re frozen in place when he leans in, tilts his head at the perfect angle, and ever so delicately places the lightest kiss on your cheek.

That’s when you notice the paparazzi behind him. You’ve been distracted by Sae, or you would have noticed earlier. They’re never as sneaky as they think they are. From this angle, it must look like Sae is genuinely kissing you. This is an opportunity you can’t waste - you raise your arms to drape them over his shoulders and press in closer until you’re practically in his lap.

“Thank you,” you murmur.

“Don’t thank me yet,” he says. “I’ve fulfilled my end of the bargain. You still have to uphold yours.”

It’s too late to go back to the gala at this point, but Sae now has your number for any other events he has to attend going forward. He drives you back to your building and insists on walking you all the way up to your apartment. He even helps take off your makeup and tucks you into bed before he dims the lights.

“Good night,” he says.

“Don’t let the bed bugs bite!” You chirp back.

It’s too dark to see his reaction.

The doorbell has been ringing nonstop for the past twenty minutes. You would just let whoever’s at your door keep at it, but your neighbors would complain, and your landlord is looking for any reason to raise the rent. You’re too drunk for this.

You wrench open the door and snarl, “What.”

“Open up,” Sae says impatiently. His words are contradicted by the fact that he doesn’t wait for you to open the door wider, he just breezes into your apartment. “I’ve been waiting for hours - god, how heavy do you sleep?”

He’s holding a takeout container in one hand, though it’s unlike any container you’ve seen before. Even the material seems to be a grade above the restaurants you normally dine at. He notices you looking and lifts the box in one hand.

“Oh, this? I just had an acquaintance pack a box of the main course last night.”

“You didn’t-“ your eyes are huge in delight.

“Nothing but the best for my fake girlfriend,” he says, smirking. “I’m looking forward to our partnership.”

#sera writes #itoshi sae x reader #sae x reader #blue lock x reader

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miss-celestia13 · 7 months

Text

Good Girl

Jake x MC Smut One Shot

Words: 3.4k

A week apart. A clever little toy. Taunting Jake and refusing to back down means Manon is about to learn that playing with fire gets you burnt… in a very good way. Praise, denial of sex to make her beg, and a filthy dream that shatters her control. Shameless gratuitous smut!

It's been a while since I posted some explicit shit, and this was gathering dust in my drafts. Can be read on its own. You don't even have to know the fandom to read it. It's smut at its most indulgent and plotless self. I hope you enjoy it! It's a dual POV, switches from Jake to my MC and back again every so often, but I've tried to make it as clear as possible. Their names are bolded to show whose head you're in.

Manon: It’s a shame you have to work...

Jake: Why?

Manon: I was shopping earlier and bought something for us to play with.

Jake: …

Manon lay on her front on her massive hotel bed, legs crossed at the ankle and kicking up as his chat bubble told her he was typing and deleting repeatedly. It took another few minutes before he sent something else.

Jake: For us or for you?

Manon: Well, I was bored earlier, and it was definitely for me then, but I know you’ll figure it out when I come home.

Jake: Manon.

You should have waited for me.

Manon: You should know by now that waiting isn’t my strong suit.

Jake: How many times?

She considered lying, but part of her still thought he could read her filthy mind, and her thumbs moved before her mind could catch up.

Manon: Twice.

Jake: That’s it?

Pathetic.

A strangled laugh left her, she could hear his cocky tone, and already she wanted to go for round three. She decided to play a perilous game and prod at his need to claim, conquer, and own her in bed. Familiar heat made her muscles loose, and a hot flush crept up her neck to stain her cheeks pink.

Manon: There is plenty of time to make that number rise...

Jake: Do you want me to deny you, Manon? You didn’t like it last time.

Manon: I vividly remember enjoying the end results, though.

Jake: I see.

We’ll see how long you last this time.

Sleep well, Manon. ;-)

(Jake is offline)

Fuck. Her pulse flickered wildly in her neck as she stared at the screen and wished she could slap herself, turn back time, and not provoke him into another game of, “Let’s see how long Manon’s sanity can stretch before she snaps and begs.” Two days were her limit a few months back, and she hadn’t pushed him that far since. The safety of a luxury hotel and the temporary distance between them gave her a false sense of confidence, and she would be the loser if she couldn’t hold out. No. She refused to lose and wouldn’t see him for a week. It would be easy. A walk in the Godsdamned park. It would’ve been if Jake hadn’t shown up at her door the following morning and joined her for the rest of her stay. Her new plaything was soon confiscated, and her suffering began.

Five days. Five fucking days he slept naked beside her, joined her in the shower, touched, kissed, and grabbed her until she trembled and moaned, only to be released with a peck on the cheek and a sly smirk as he turned away. Her nerves were shot, a permanent tremor took up residence in her hands whenever he brushed past her or smiled her way, and she ran out of clean underwear two days ago, slick so often she had to change them multiple times just to get through the fucking day. He never let her out of his sight to ensure she couldn’t relieve the pressure building to an implosion inside her with her fingers. She was on a blade edge as she readied for another sleepless night.

Exhaustion dragged her down as she slid off her robe and clambered into bed, ignoring the smug look on Jake’s face as she put her back to him and slammed her eyes shut. She thought sleep was beyond the realm of possibility, but her body had been on high alert for days and demanded a break. She was asleep within minutes, barely cognizant of his gentle kiss on her temple as oblivion pulled her under. There was no respite from her constant simmering arousal inside her dreams. He was there, under her, on top of or lifting her up, and it changed each time she blinked and was so vibrant and real that she could feel the slip and slide of her essence on her inner thighs as he fucked her.

Unleashed and intent on making her crumble, she was helpless as dream Jake flipped her on her front and ordered her to get on her knees and hold on. Her shaking hands gripped the bedpost just as he slid inside her, every hard inch so familiar and real to her as she keened. Out of focus and constantly changing, she could only burn as the dream spun out of control. Seeing them from above, two souls twisted together on the bed, positions switching as she flung her head back and screamed. She flinched away from it and blinked, finding herself under him once more. Release was so close it was a coppery tang on her tongue as he urged her on. Ready to crest that peak, primed to detonate, relief and gratitude sinking through her…

She was unceremoniously dragged out of it and blinked stupidly at the dark ceiling as Jake jostled the bed and turned to face her.

She was soaked in sweat, her saturated cunt clenching in time with her furious heartbeat, and a moan trapped halfway up her throat as her thwarted orgasm winked out of existence. That was it. Her hormones had reached critical levels. She couldn’t take it anymore. Lust was a lead weight low in her belly. A swirling ache with its own pulse resided in her core, and she realized dimly that she was whimpering softly. She could take the edge off herself and hold off a little longer. The thought made her bottom lip tremble as sweat trickled down her face. She was soaked and unable to think or breathe through the violent arousal stealing her tongue. Sensing Jake watching her, she didn’t jump when his sleep-roughened voice rumbled too close for her jumpy nerves.

“Two words, Manon. Say them, and I’ll fuck the ache away.”

Oh, fuck, he never played fair. Her legs clamped together, and she was rubbing them slightly, seeking friction as his large hand wrapped around the back of her thigh. He’d feel how wet she was; it slid down her thighs to soak the sheets, and she knew he’d already noticed. She was proven right when his fingers crawled between her legs to delve into her slippery folds. Her whimper fast turned into a whine as he circled her entrance with the tip of his finger but didn’t penetrate her. It was cruel of him to tease her when she felt like an animal in heat. A creature of base instincts so devastating she feared she might die if he didn’t fuck her. The words were on the tip of her tongue, her mouth parted along with her thighs, and she was close to begging when he called her good girl.

She hated to lose. She would rather die than give in, but her body would not rest without his care and even if he allowed her to touch herself, it wouldn’t be enough. He was smirking, she could barely see him, but she knew he was as she loosed a quivering breath and his finger grazed her clit. No, she had no other option, and her mouth opened before she understood she was talking.

“You win. Please, I think I’ll go mad if you don’t fuck me.” She fully expected him to gloat, or laugh but he didn’t make a noise.

Suddenly, his mouth was on her neck, teeth scraping down the column as she jolted and let out a yelp that soon turned to a warbling moan as he slid two fingers inside her weeping cunt. The heel of his hand caught her clit as he moved it in and out, her fluttering inner walls holding his fingers tight. She could feel her sanity splintering and weakening as pleasure ignited like fire on gasoline. Jake murmured pure filth to urge her on.

“I need you relaxed, Manon. I can’t give you what you want until you come for me. I need to hear you. Then I’ll fuck the sense back into you.”

An unhinged laugh spilled out of her as her stomach tensed, the heat between her legs now an inferno as she ground herself into his hand. It was like sparking flint over dry brush. He coaxed her along, crooking and pulling his fingers, kissing her until she drank the air from his lungs. Besotted after all this time. She wondered how they’d be twenty years from then. Still obsessed with each other and deeply in love? She believed so, and as the first ripples of her release spread from her core, she knew she would always feel so utterly unglued around him. Everything in him was designed to pull her apart and put her back together. Her mouth opened, a dark wail and curse of his name as her body tensed and jerked with every pull of his hand between her thighs.

“There, let it take the edge off. You’re beautiful.”

Over time, Jake got even braver in the bedroom, and out of it, he was confident, a little cocky when needed, and completely aware of his effect on Manon. A few words, a couple twists of his wrist, and denying her for a short time, it was a recipe for heaven when she finally erupted. He’d hated every moment of denying her; he needed her touch as often as she needed his. All he had to do was think about her or catch a hint of her seductive scent, and he was rock hard, ready to taunt her body into unconsciousness. Oh, yes, he knew how strongly he could make her react. She was always extra touchy the following days after one of those animalistic nights. He tried not to use it too often, but she deserved that from him tonight. He knew if he fucked her right away, she would come too fast to savor it. She was a livewire under his influence; he only had to look at her over the last few days, and he could observe her struggle to keep the words that would end her torment trapped inside. Her quaking body flooded his hand with her essence, and he wanted to taste it more than he wanted to breathe.

“Jake,” she whispered as she took her first full breath since waking; he affirmed as he sucked his fingers clean and wordlessly told her to go on, “I need you. Now. “

“Do you want me to take care of you?” He needed her consent before physically committing to taking her control away.

Her soft, urgent whine made his smirk broaden as she said, “Yes. Don’t make me beg.”

He let go of a black chuckle, “You already are, Sweetheart.”

That was the trigger word, saved for these moments as its power over her was so explosive that she turned feral. His smirk transformed into a grin, and he caught her as she pounced and pushed him onto his back. Her tongue was in his mouth as his cock jumped against her ass, and she clawed his chest, sharp nails making him hiss into her mouth. He groaned and bucked his hips when he felt her drip onto his torso. His cock ached with the need to sink into her tight heat and feel her disintegrate around his length. She made a beast out of him, and he wouldn’t have it any other way. He never got bored of exploring her body and claiming new territory. He wrapped his hand around his cock and sighed as he applied pressure and stroked up and down a few times. Manon keened and found her voice.

“I’ve said the damn words, Jake. Stop playing.”

He didn’t respond; he let himself go and gripped her waist, flipping them so her hips cradled his and she was pinned. The heat pouring off her was scalding, and her skin was damp, salty, and musky as he inhaled slowly. His mouth watered as he stared into her lust-hazed eyes. She would let him do anything and trusted him so profoundly she readily handed him the reins. He didn’t take that for granted as he snapped his teeth at her plump bottom lip and stretched to reach under his pillow where he’d stashed the item that started all of this. He fumbled blindly until he felt the cool, smooth handle. It was a small clit sucking toy she mentioned once in passing, and he wanted to surprise her with it, but her impatient ass couldn’t wait. She already knew what he planned as she writhed under him and shook her head.

“Yes or no, Manon. You can stop me at any time. I’m doing this for you.” He rasped as she babbled.

Her voice never sounded, but she did nod.

“Will I keep going?” He double-checked, knowing he was being a little cruel.

“Yes! Fucking hell you are -” She sobbed as he impaled her on his thick cock and held her still, the insult she planned to spit at him forgotten as her eyes rolled back.

Her cunt held his cock in a taught clasp. A sensation of static flared under his skin as he made tiny shifts of his hips to open her up and stretch her to take him with force. Oh, her body would sing for him, primed to explode as it was. His small movements inside her turned into sharp darts of his cock that had her clinging to his shoulders. A sloppy kiss kept his own need to cum at bay as he experienced again how she melted like ice in July. He slid his hand up her thigh and paused at her knee, hiking her leg to change the angle enough to rub against that spot, making her wetness turn to a torrent of need. Still, he couldn’t make it too easy, when he felt the first pulse of her orgasm, he held her down with strength until the early flutters died out.

She was wound tighter than a reel of thread. One sudden move, and she would begin to unravel. Sobbing and distressed at being denied, she babbled “please” like a lifeline as he ignored his own lust and focused intently on her. He wished he could strap her down and drive her to the brink of insanity before giving into the want to hear her cry his name, but their restraints were back at home. She was too riled to wait for him to find something to tie her up. His sexual taunting earlier had affected her more than she wanted to admit, but he could feel it in the flood of essence drenching his cock and the raking of her nails down his skin. When she began trying to steal her pleasure, Jake pulled almost all the way out and slammed back into the hilt. Both moaned, and she was constantly making wordless noise like he’d made her forget English. He loved it and how powerful it made him feel. She liked to put on a show; her body kept him up all night more often than not, and he realized they never had been able to take things slow. Always fast, eternally burning, and all-consuming, it thrilled him.

“Use it now.” He ordered firmly, putting a good dose of authority into his tone, and she whimpered as she felt around the mattress for the toy. The quiet thrum when she turned it on seemed very loud as she worked it between their joined bodies to align it with her swollen clit. He knew she found the right setting when her inner walls clamped down on his length and tried to pull him impossibly deeper, her trembling making him shake as well.

He loved to overwhelm her. She was a force of nature in all she did and needed no one. Still, he knew she wanted him to take charge, to simply feel and not have to think for once. She always delighted in it once she let go of her pride and relinquished control, only doing so after she plucked away at his restraint to make him manhandle her. A distressed throaty whine made him smile as he taunted her with slow sensual plunges of his cock inside her flickering cunt. She was so wet, the toy was unrelenting in its efforts and her teeth were bared against the onslaught of sensations he could practically see moving through her. All he could smell was her sex and desire, a heady perfume he wanted her to wear every day. It took everything in him to ignore the tingling building low in his spine as she went rigid and arched into him, the sobs coming from her turning his lust into something sharp and dark.

“Now. Let go, or I’ll stop.” He clipped as he felt her tense and try to hold her orgasm off.

Her breath hitched as she turned the toy to a higher setting, and his thrusts became harsher to help her over the edge. He slammed into her again and again as her wail turned to a scream so ragged and raw he was proud of them both as she shattered. She attempted to move the toy away as her orgasm rolled through her, stealing his breath as her inner walls clenched around his cock, and he barked at her to stop.

“No, keep it there. One more time, you can do it.”

A helpless little sound trickled from Manon’s throat as her body jerked, and he mercilessly fucked her through it. All she knew was fire and desire so intense her mind struggled to comprehend what was happening to her. More brutal and rougher, he pounded into her and grinned down at her as she howled savagely and tried to breathe through the incredible pleasure surging through her aching body. It was too much. Her second orgasm still pulsed in her core as she felt another rising to swallow her whole. Jake sobbed above her, bending her further back, and a bite of delicious pain heightened the frenzied energy running through her veins. She couldn’t take it. Her mind fractured into jagged lines and red light, thoughts scattered like ash in the wind as his clever tongue filled her ears with praise.

“Good girl. You’re almost there. Turn it up for me.”

No, no, she couldn’t, the sucking sensation sealed around her over-sensitive clit was sending her farther into madness, but her traitorous fingers did as told, slipping over the soaked handle to find the right button to turn it up. The pattern of it changed. Every snap of his hips and the insistent suction made her thrash her head as her body convulsed. It blended into her second release, dragging it out and heightening it to a point where she could only wail and wait for the darkness at the edges of her vision to take her. Her breath came in harsh pants; his breathing was as rough as hers as he urged her on, and she gave herself over to the wildfire consuming her body and soul. She disintegrated into a million pieces like a house of cards in a hurricane. It terrified her how hard it seized her. Like she was having a fit as her mind slowly winked out, and she heard his cry of victory. Her name yelled into the sex-heavy air as he collapsed on top of her still-flailing body and smothered the noise she was making with his mouth.

Jake kissed her until she stopped kissing back. Knew she was on her way to sleep before his mouth was on hers, and he needed to soothe her before she fully slipped into a doze. Male pride at her twitchy, barely conscious body made him smile as he pulled free of her of her cunt. Tender touches to sweep her hair away from her face and wipe the sweat from her brow made her mumble his name and smile. She would sleep like the dead before long, and he knew she’d wake him for another round before they faced the outside world, so he carefully disentangled himself to go clean up. He picked up the still buzzing toy off the bed, turned it off, and took it into the bathroom to wash it off. He was done within minutes and soon crawled back into bed.

The sheets were damp with sweat and her essence. Never had he witnessed her so needy and vulnerable. Usually, he didn’t stop her from getting herself off to tide her over until she was desperate enough to let him win. She had nowhere to hide from him this time, and he’d taken full advantage. No matter where they were or what they did, they always ended up here. He thought they’d slow down after all the time they’d lived together. But somehow, it only became more apparent that they were addicted to each other and the pleasure they gifted one another. He loved it. He couldn’t wipe his satisfied smile away as he dragged the sheet over them and settled down to sleep. His last thought was that he couldn’t wait for her to get her own back and take it out on him.

**************************

Thank you so much for reading! I hope it was good. And thank you for any comments or reblogs if you feel like doing that too! I appreciate it 🥰❤️

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lu-dao-writes · 7 months

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𝙸𝚗𝚌𝚞𝚋𝚞𝚜!𝙽𝚊𝚗𝚊𝚖𝚒 𝙺𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚡 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

𖥔 ݁ ˖ 𝒮𝓎𝓃𝑜𝓅𝓈𝒾𝓈 ♡ ˊˎ- Nanami as an incubus and his relationship with you! With Gojo on the side. (Idek what this summary is😭)

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ 𝒲𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔(𝓈) / 𝒯𝒶𝑔𝓈 ♡ ˊˎ- Incubus Nanami & Gojo, Gojo being Nanami’s wingman fr, gender neutral reader, black coded reader, Nanami being stubborn, themes of sex, mentions of Nanami touching himself, & switches of povs.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ 𝒜/𝒩 ♡ ˊˎ- I’m a slut for this man, what can I say y’all✋🏼😔? But spooky season is upon us and I’m thinking about supernatural shit and dark themes✨ But idk what happened to the form of this? Listen, I’m at the airport waiting for my flight and I’m bored and want this out lmao🤪. I’m hoping to do a part 2 where it’s more smutty based, but smut is hard y’all😩. I appreciate all the likes on my last post btw!🙏🏼🥺💕. Minors/ ageless blogs DNI please and lemme know any mistakes or missed tags.

He’s not fond of his nature, but he has learned to live with it. I mean he has to lmao.

He’s stubborn with his feeding schedule, and his a little picky. As usual Kento is more worried about getting that bread.

Gojo gets on his head about not taking care of himself (of course in a more playful/blasé manner, but he cares his Nanamin).

Gojo also knows when he hasn’t fed because it shows in Nanami’s appearance first before it show in his attitude.

His eyes gets a bit sunken in, the dark circles get darker, his hair looks dull, then he gets more uncanny from there if prolonged (which hasn’t happened, Nanami’s not that careless)

Then comes the attitude! Nanami’s patience grows very thin and he’s a mixture of tired, weak, & hungry. His already sharp and witty quips at Gojo become more sharper and a bit meaner, but nothing that goes over the line.

He’s not down for Gojo’s games essentially. Even more so now😗.

When he meets you, you were his server at this cute little cat cafe that Gojo dragged him to (he didn’t give the man a chance to say no).

Nanami doesn’t mind cats, he’s just not looking forward to getting their fur out from his clothes.

But you were a sight for sore eyes. Every inch of you being taken in by Nanami’s shade covered eyes and that familiar hunger in his belly rose its ugly head slightly.

He had to swallow hard and remind himself to actually answer you and remember his order.

He ignores Gojo’s knowing smirk and childish little prods at his ankles, instead focusing on his beverage of choice and listening to your voice as you take Gojo’s order. Once you’re gone is when he gripes at him.

Your voice, no matter how it sounds, is soothing and appealing to his ears, and your scent…

It’s what keeps him coming back.

All the cat hair on his clothes is worth it if he gets to keep seeing you.

You can say he’s a bit addicted to ya.

Eventually he manages to get your number and he noticed how every time he came, you were always his server, not that he’s complainin.

Dates with him are fun and romantic, first going to a restaurant, then stroll in the park and getting showered in sakura blossoms, going shopping (him buying whatever you want), more meal related dates, etc. He adores seeing you happy and pampered.

But you truly haunt his nearly sleepless nights and he can’t help but touch himself to the very thought of you. But it’s never truly enough.

Then…

Nanami starts to spiral. You are a human and he is a creature of lust.

His safety and or your safety could be compromised and with that in mind, he begins to back off.

And just as things were going so well too…

Nanami didn’t ghost you, thankfully, but he disclosed that things weren’t working out and that he’s sorry for wasting your time. But he did it on text. He just didn’t want to face you, unfortunately and he regrets it to this day

But on your side, to forget your anger and sorrows, you go to a nightclub to party and slightly drink the pain away.

But unfortunately you also saw Nanami and his friend from before there as well🤪😜.

It was tough but you ignore him just like he ignored your multitude of text messages.

…

Okay maybe you didn’t completely ignore him-.

You can’t help but look at him every so often and from the few glances you got to do, he looked kinda miserable, definitely agitated, and a bit ill looking..

Nanami was very much disinterested in anyone flocking his way and he immediately would send them to Gojo’s way instead, thankfully they took the bite, finding Gojo even more attractive.

But his mood sours even more when he catches wind of you.

You look gorgeous as always, especially in your fit (it’s something he bought you) and he wanted nothing more than to go over to you and sweep you up off your feet (and other things~).

But he doesn’t. All he does is keep his watchful gaze on you, making sure you’re okay and because well… He wants you!

Anyone that comes near you with obvious intentions to woo you his jaw and fists would clench slightly. But again, he doesn’t get up from his seat.

Nanami was… Content to stay in his place. But that was until Gojo thought it’d be a funny idea to make his way to you, pushing pass his little harem.

Although you have your heart set on Nanami, you can’t deny that his friend isn’t gorgeous.

You bet those eyes of his gets him all that he wants with some trouble on the side.

You didn’t move away when his arm came around you, and you let him guide you to a more less crowded area, soon swaying with you as 2 On by Tinashe and SchoolBoy Q booms in the background.

If you hadn’t been pursued by Nanami you definitely would’ve let yourself be caught up with Mr. Troublemaker.

“Heyy~! So, I know you were caught up with Nanamin and all that, but if you’re free…” He puts his lips near your ear, hands sliding towards your hips and gripping them slightly. “I’d love to get to know you better~.”

Your throat bob and just as you’re about to sink into temptation-.

“That’s quite enough, Satoru.”

“Kento…,” you breathed out.

- Gojo didn’t even put up a fight, just took his hands off you with a knowing smile and let Nanami take you away from him.

- Nanami was pissed. Fuming.

- He didn’t appreciate Gojo approaching you like that. The nerve of him!

- His grip is a little tight on you, but you’re okay with it. Until you remember that you’re supposed to be mad at him.

“Now, hold on a second! Who the hell do you think you are?? I was about to get some good dick and you ruined it!” you spat.

Nanami scoffs lightly, letting your hand go. “Oh, please, you can do so much better,” he replies, defeat coating his words.

“Oh god, are you gonna be corny and say that you’re better? ‘Cause clearly you weren’t.”

Despite the hurt, he knew you had a point. He failed as a partner.

“As much as I want to, I know that I failed in that regard. I’m sorry, (y/n).”

You hate how much of a kicked puppy he looks. You sigh. “Ken… What even happened? I think I deserve to know the truth.”

Nanami swallows and as much as he wants to tell you the truth, he can’t. Too much is at risk.

“It’s because he’s an incubus, Sweetheart~.”

“Huh!?” “Satoru!?”

Both of you were flabbergasted and Nanami was three seconds away from throttling Gojo.

“Nanami, I’m tired of watching you brood and nearly kill yourself because of your fears,” Gojo explains, his playfulness gone with the wind.

“Do you have any idea what you’ve just possibly done??”

Gojo goes back to looking carefree. “Call it a gut feeling~! Now why don’t you two get outta here? Oh! And use protection~!”

Nanami fumbles through his thoughts on what to say, feeling as though he’s going to either short circuit or burst from rage. But in the end he sighs a contained breath, pinching the bridge of his nose, slightly cursing Gojo under his breath, but also feeling a tickle of guilt. He was being selfish with not taking care of himself..

He comes back to his senses when he feels you touch his arm.

“Alright… Is this true or are we really actin like clowns at the circus? If so I’ll need some more alcohol.”

“It’s true, as cliche as that sounds. I didn’t want to tell you in fear that you could maybe get in danger or I could be.”

“… Holy shit. Well I’m glad it’s nothing ridiculous or painful! But hey! I can live one of my child/teenhood fantasies by being in a relationship with a supernatural person!”

Nanami blinks at you for a good second, face perplexed before it eventually softens and he starts laughing lightly with disbelief, taking your hand into his.

When you squeeze his back eagerly he knows he has to thank Gojo for his part in all this.

#𝐉𝐉𝐊✩ ̇ ┈•ﾟ #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #nanami kento #gojo satoru #black coded reader #gender neutral reader #jjk x black reader #jjk x gender neutral reader #jjk x male reader #jjk x reader #I’m so tired y’all #black reader #nanami x reader #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento x black reader #nanami kento x you

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skunkes · 6 months

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sorry if this is a silly question but do you like. sit down and talk with your ocs in your head? and they tell you about themselves? how do you get them to reveal information....i am begging mine to let me know them orz

I do! In several different ways ^_^ the trick is to think of yourself as a character in your brain theater... ill mostly be explaining thru examples and using silly language ^_^ and its more How I Do It vs a how to....

"Sitting down and talking to em" interrogation style only happens before they're fully formed. when talon still didnt have very many traits it was like we were in a white room with 2 chairs... although you COULD make a scenario out of this its usually the Before for me. final tweaks in the form of basic traits and info before sending em out for further development

the way i get ocs to tell me about themselves is more thru actions! with talon I "locked him in a room" with al in the form of imagining how they'd meet. because I set it in talon's decrepit home with no running water or electricity, there come questions like. would he be accommodating? would he explain the vampirism or just rely on flashing his fangs or hiding them until its time to bite? these arent questions i actually went into the scenario having, but as you Play Dolls its questions that get answered anyway, ykwim? (although you could also go into the simulation (lol) with questions you want answered!) And its your brain so you can do as many takes and tweaks as you want, and things develop as you imagine the same thing, or different things, which all inform a character.

Scenarios could be anything. Im a serial daydreamer so anything goes depending on how bored I am or what im doing... and just like with real people, every scenario is a way to learn more about somebody...! It's like improv in your brain as you think up how they'd react and respond to things, and what they'd say. But also, going with your oc to the grocery store or a restaurant or to slay a dragon could give you insight into their behavior but likely not any info about their trauma or whatever, just like real people (but it also depends on the person) (and the oc!)

I DO have "sit down and talk" scenarios once i feel ive learned enough standard, early level friendship stuff about em though. It's much fun if you set the scene in your mind to mimic a real life Deep Conversation session. Sitting in the backyard on those plastic chairs, or aimless car ride at night. right now the one I keep going back to is just. Loafed in bed when you're really sleepy and just starting to say anything about anything and maybe get a little sentimental. sometimes its just me talking but I obvs have the ability to imagine how he'd be interpreting that in his brain, ykwim?? You play several roles at once I guess. It's like the sims, switching back and forth between povs, but the level of immersion i get into never feels like I'm Making Them Say It, it just feels natural at that point because I've learned enough.

There's also information that's shared by you figuring out what they'd Think (as above) vs what they say which is also fun characterwise... AND ALSO while im daydreaming scenarios I do multiple takes to find their voice. Like, I'm an overexplainer, a detailed therapy-speak-er. Sometimes I catch myself giving ocs that Voice and I have to do a retake. Like hold on, Talon would NOT be introspective. He wouldn't share all that shit I just "made" him say even if it is true and now I know about it. He'd say something insanely vague and confusing if anything at all. Let's take it from the top. etc

It rlly is about immersion! You have to have fun with it! Sometimes it's so Real to me that I genuinely can't develop an oc further because I cant make something up for them and they wont "tell me", which means I just have to spend more time with em I guess! or maybe need to leave em alone for a bit. or maybe ill never know (<- which also tells me about em!) just like real people. treat the fake people like real people in your fake dollhouse brain theater sims lot puppet show simulation.... also i added more in the tags bc i didnt know where to put it in the main txt 😭

#skunk mail #Anonymous #long post #LONG LONG POST.#also i didnt know where to add this but like. regardless of who im making interact #sometimes i imagine it in first person (my pov) sometimes 3rd person (spectator) and sometimes from the perspective of the oc #its like choosing a character in a video jame... like sometimes ill put talon in scenarios by himself and spectate #but other times its like okay what if we do it from his pov how would that change things #interacting with yourself (or other ocs) from the pov of the oc is also really fun.#this person (you) is trying to get you (oc) to open up. how do u react...#what do u know? what do u share?

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useless19 · 5 months

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I was kinda hoping for a junior birthday edition of days, i loved junior in this series? I thought you were hinting twards it to. Did you have ideas or was it just a way to reasure bowser that luigi would be back?

So was I! I made a space for it in my drafts doc and everything, but I couldn't figure out enough of a plot to hang it together. It might've been because by that point I was starting to wind down my writing in Days with an aim to finish the series off, or it could have been because it would've required a fairly heavy narrative switch and I was already struggling with Bowser's pov for Day 16.

Or it could've been that I didn't want to have to figure out what a spoilt 8-year-old Koopa prince's birthday presents were going to be!

It's Junior's birthday, so it's going to be the most coolest awesomest day of the entire year! -the planned summary

Like King Boo, I left myself the option of writing Junior's birthday just in case. I've honestly found this to be pretty useful for constructing the series as a whole. Things happen that the narrative doesn't show (Luigi thinks about taking Junior Lava Bubble fishing one time, but we never see that), and allowing myself the freedom of not having to write it meant that I managed to finish more other parts than I ever thought I would when starting.

Still, I know roughly where the characters are at on Day 51 (aka Junior's birthday), so let's have a look at them, shall we?

Luigi extends his visit so he leaves the day after Junior's birthday. It's much easier for him to agree to stay longer than it is for him to commit to a longer stay before he arrives. He gets comfortable where he is. He spent the previous day making sure Junior knew he was going to leave after his birthday so that he wouldn't have to keep reminding Junior on his birthday and bring the mood down. Luigi likes a good party and he doesn't have to be the centre of attention, so he has a great time.

Bowser likes a party even more than Luigi and his son is growing up so well. He's way more tolerant of destructive antics than most parents too (he's got minions to deal with mess and rebuilding). He also starts to realise some of Luigi's problems when it comes to visiting; ie that he's very suggestible. It's not an entirely conscious observation, but he's less worried when Luigi leaves and spends more than a week away, despite saying that he was only going for a week. There's always going to be some lag. Email updates help (even if the first one is from a long-suffering Mario).

(If anyone other than me did the maths and figured out that Luigi wouldn't actually be at Bowser's castle for Day 69, assuming a consistent week-in-the-Mushroom-Kingdom/week-in-Bowser's-castle, this is why. It's always a bit more than a week-long visit).

And, of course, Junior. He's more resilient than Bowser in the being abandoned department, though he's still a bratty kid who's used to having his own way. He's very determined to show Luigi every single last one of his presents so Luigi will know what he's missing out on if he goes ahead with his stupid leaving plan. Similarly, the Koopalings also get the full range, but they have to leave in dribs and drabs over the next week too.

I guess part of why I couldn't figure out a plot was because Junior is going to be getting more and more intense and overexcited as his birthday party goes on and that would narrow the focus too much to be interesting.

(Maybe the lesson here is that putting it in Junior's pov was a bad call and I should've been trying to see Luigi's thoughts on the whole thing).

I don't know what Luigi would get Junior. He'd probably play it safe and do some art supplies (which are fine, but nothing super exciting and he gets a bit miffed when Junior moves on fairly quickly). He also delivers a letter from Peach (which Junior initially dismisses as boring), with an invitation to a brand new tournament she's organising (I'd have just picked a random sport that's not a main Mario tie-in game, or maybe one of the less represented sports like one of the Olympic ones). Luigi can't remember speaking with her about that, but he must've said enough for her to do this. Junior's quite excited over this - it's his own invitation, not just his dad's!

I also imagine that Mario sends something, maybe food? Possibly a bunch of hot sauce bottles from the various places he's helped out (they won't stop sending them and, while he likes spicy food, he can't eat this much!)? He puts the same amount of effort into it as he would a nephew. Luigi's also surprised at this and has to deal with the (actually super obvious in hindsight) realisation that he's sort of on his way to becoming Junior's step-dad, not just a regular old babysitter.

(Yeah, this would've been a challenge to properly depict in Junior's pov. Possibly an interesting one though.)

It was definitely set up more as potential day for writing, but it was useful to help reassure Bowser once I'd added it.

#bowuigi #days #this got long #ask

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princesspastel8 · 8 days

Text

Chapter 29

Third POV

It's Sunday. Eboni has spent her weekend trapped in EJ's Infirmary with Jeff by her side almost 24/7. The teen wants to address this, but she knows he'll just brush it off. She questions why he struggles to vocalize how he cares for her. In her mind, it isn't as difficult since his actions speak for him.

In honesty, she finds the killer being reluctant to voice his emotions kinda cute. Though she'll never admit that out loud. Her eye is healed enough for her to open it. Her cut lip is healed while the bruise on her cheek is fading. Her ribs still ache as well as her ankle, but nothing is broken- so she can manage. Her hand, though, is going to take the longest to heal. The serum is enough to lessen how large the cut is, but it's still going to require more stitching.

On the plus size, Eboni has gotten a chance to get to know EJ and BEN. They don't seem too bad, but BEN is a bit of a perv that's on drugs. If he offers Eboni another mystery pill, she swears to throw him into a tub full of ice-cold water - other than that, he's a good buddy to smoke weed with.

She finds EJ interesting. His knowledge within the medical field is a bit surprising until he opens up on how he became what he is. It's a bit disheartening that slenderman played a part in it, though, but he holds no grudges.

Right now, both Eboni and BEN are playing mario Cart on one of EJ's medical monitors. BEN, of course, hacked it so it can display the screen on his switch. The two have had three races, BEN winning all of them - Eboni in last place every time.

Eboni grabs her pillow, hitting the glitching demon multiple times upside his head. "The third fucking time!? And these maps are complete ass!"

"Ack! Aye! It's not my fault you suck at this shit! I thought you were a streamer!"

"In my free time, when I'm bored. I don't play Nintendo games, you elf!"

"What games do you play?"

"Shooting games - like Call of duty. It's fun pissing those gamer freaks off." She grins.

"Ugh- fine. I'll put one of those games in. What else do you play?"

"Cookin' momma and any just dance game."

BEN laughs, "Really? Just dance? Cookin momma? Those games are ridiculous!"

Eboni raised a brow, "so your saying that they're so bad you can beat me at them?"

"Hell yeah, I can - wanna bet?"

Eboni holds out her hand, the creature shaking it as she proudly says, "DEAL!"

Jeff and EJ sit back in one of the few chairs in the room, watching the two play. Jeff's attention is mostly on Eboni, not knowing that he's smiling rather softly towards her. These pass days, Jeff allows himself to accpet a number of things. The first is his overwhelming feelings for Eboni. Something about her - something within her - keeps drawing him in - making him want much more.

Nothing, and no one has been able to hold his attention almost constantly. His attention span is pretty short. It doesn't take the killer much to become bored rather quickly, but with Eboni, he doesn't face that issue. He seems to find out something new about her every day. Her attitude and feisty nature always make things more entertaining.

After spending two days with her, it still isn't enough. He doesn't want her to leave his side - not even for a second. He never thought he'll be this clingy. But after seeing her so bruised and hurt, a strong, overpowering sense of needing to protect what's his took over him completely. Jeff doesn't care what anyone says, nor how others look at her within the mansion. All he cares about, all he wants is for Eboni to be safe & feel safe.

EJ glances at Jeff, grinning a bit. "She really has you whipped, huh?" He teases, elbowing his shoulder playfully.

Jeff eyes harden, scoffing while shaking his head. "As if."

"Come on Jeff. It's written all over your face." EJ grins, glancing at Eboni. "She's really something. I see why you fell hard."

"I didn't fall for that fuckin' bi-"

"Sprout bullshit all you want. Everyone knows how you feel." The cannibal shrugs, giving the smiling killer a knowing look.

Jeff sighs heavily, leaning back in his chair as he watches Eboni begin to play just dance with BEN. "Whatever....how did yours make you feel?" He asks hesitantly, knowing how sensitive this topic is for EJ.

He smiles, showing his sharp teeth. "She was my world. She gave me this high that I've never felt before, my addictive drug."

"Have you ever...felt this overwhelming feeling to protect her? The thought of any other guy looking at her pisses you off?"

EJ can't help but chuckle. "Sometimes yeah, but you're far more possessive than I ever was. You never seem to leave Eboni alone - not that she minds."

"I..." Jeff doesn't know what else to say. EJ is right as he is most of the time.

"She gives you this sense of control that you've never had, even before being dragged into this mansion. It levels you- but no worries, you're still a crazy mother fucker." He said, patting his shoulder.

The smiling killer doesn't shrug his hand off this time. The eyeless cannibal is right - the desire to have complete control over something, anything, and Eboni gives him that. Giving him complete control over her life. The idea of having someone to control has always been appealing, thrilling even.

Sure, Nina could've filled that role, but she wouldn't have lasted, and her existence irks him. Throwing away such a good life - a life he sometimes wishes he had. Sure, he had a mother and a father, even a little brother, but it wasn't stable - he was never stable.

A cheer breaks him from his thoughts, Eboni performing a rather sensual victory dance while BEN lays on the floor - exhausted. Eboni completely floored BEN in cookin momma, just dance, and even a few shooting games. Even with all the cheat codes BEN gathered, he couldn't beat raw talent.

Eboni bends down, holding her hand out and giving BEN a mocking pitied look. "Switch, please."

Accepting defeat, he snaps his fingers as his Nintendo Switch system appears in her hands. With a giddy smile, she skips over to Jeff, showing off what she won. "I beat the game, demon!" She cheers gleefully.

Jeff stands, patting the top of her head. "Good job, princess."

"What the fuck man! You know how much I love that thing and your praising her!?"

Jeff grins, flipping BEN off as he moves onto Eboni's medical bed. "Go cry about it."

"Asshat!" He shouts before zapping away.

EJ laughs, standing from his chair. "Slenderman is requesting me. I'll be back to do one more check-up on her."

Jeff nods, watching the cannibal leave. He smiles at Eboni, patting his thigh. The teen eagerly jumps onto the bed, moving to sit in between his legs. The killer wraps his arms around her waist, sighing in contentment while Eboni messes around with her new Switch to fit her taste.

"Gonna open up about that little episode you had?" He questions, watching her fingers still against the joysticks.

There has been this unspoken air between the two. Most of it is regarding what took place Friday, the other being their feelings for one another that neither of them are ready to discuss any time soon. Eboni tenses a bit, leaning her head up to look at Jeff.

"I don't..." The topic of her parents has always been a sensitive one. But maybe it's time she forces herself to talk about it.

"If you do, I'll give you a reward." He whispers to her, rubbing soothing circles with his thumbs against her hips.

Eboni gulps nervously, lowering her head as she takes a deep breath. "O-Okay..." she whispers, beginning her story.

It's Christmas Eve. Jacob, Eboni's father's family, has invited him to spend Christmas with them. It was surprising considering they've grown apart the moment Jacob proposed to his wife, Yasmine.

His family fought and never accepted Yasmina, which made no sense considering how sweet and loving the woman was. Unfortunately, she has no family of her own except for her husband and daughter - which played a role in Jacob's family disliking her.

However, both are individually successful. Jacob is a world-renowned martial artist, owning several self-defense studios across the United States. Yasmina is a world-renowned chef and retired gymnastics coach. They've paved the way for their eight year old daughter to have an amazing future.

The family is currently driving to Jacob's family home, which happens to be a huge mansion. Yasmine isn't looking forward to this trip, but Eboni is. The young child couldn't wait to see her aunt that she misses and loves so much. Yasmine was looking forward to seeing Jacob's older sister, though. The woman is the only one she gets along with - the only one she trusts.

"Honey, I told you we should've left before the snow storm gotten closer." Yasmine sighs.

"Yeah, yeah - I get it, woman. You were right." Jacob said, rolling his eyes playfully, which earns him a light smack on his arm.

"Oh, don't start! It's just the snow os picking up. The weather report also said to be mindful of black ice. Maybe we should find a motel and -"

"I've been driving since I was sixteen years old. I'm 30 babe, this storm is child's play."

Eboni giggles, playing with her stuffed rabbit, glances out of her window - gasping at the snow. "Ish so pretty and white! Lookie look!"

"I see, sweetie. It's very beautiful."

"Not as beautiful as my little princess."

Eboni giggles, squeezing her rabbit close to her chest. Swinging her feet at her father's words. "Momma is prettier!"

"Oh, Eboni, stop -"

"Mhm. Both of you are my gorgeous girls. Aaaaall mine." Jacob smiles, moving to place his hand on Yasmine thigh.

After an hour or so, Jacob notices this black van with tinted windows following them. At every turn, every stop light - the van is right behind them, tailgating them. Yasmine has noticed too but hasn't voiced her concerns, not wanting to scare her daughter.

Jacob and Yasmine share a knowing look as they hold each others hands. Jacob begins speeding through the snowstorm, running red lights and making a few sharp turns. Unfortunately, the black is still hot on their tail.

"Momma? Papa? Why is the car going so fast? Ish little scary..." she pouts, gripping her rabbit plush even tighter.

"No reason, sweetie! Daddy is just trying to get there as fast as he can since the storm is getting worse. We might get stranded in the middle of the road if he doesn't hurry." Yasmine explains as calmly as she could.

Eboni notices the two holding their hands and the worried expressions on their faces. Eboni reaches forward, placing her hand over her parents - feeling a sense of comfort now.

The comfort fades the moment Jacob loses control over the car after sliding on a large patch of black ice. The man keeps his composer, turning the wheel in the opposite direction - gaining control rather quickly. He smiles, looking at his wife then at his daughter.

"You guys oka-"

SKREEEEEEEET- BANG!

A sixteen wheeler comes crashing head-on into the family. The front of the car is completely destory, and Eboni's parents crushed. Eboni's eyes widen at the sight, screaming at the top of her lungs- crying out for her parents to speak, pleading with them to let her know that they're alright. Eboni was struggling to keep consciousness, suffering extreme internal bleeding. The last sight of her loving parents being their mangled corpses.

"The poor girl. Her father's family wants nothing to do with her..."

"Losing your parents. What kind of Christmas gift is that?"

Eboni slowly opens her eyes, blinking them a few times to adjust to the brightness of the hospital room. She tries to sit up, whimpering at the pain she feels all over her body.

"Oh no, no! You mustn't move, sweetheart. You have to rest." The nurse said, gently lowering the child back down.

"Momma...papa? Where are...momma and Papa?" Eboni questions, her voice horse. The child was stuck in a coma for a week.

The two nurses share a heartbreaking look. The first nurse slowly shakes her head. "Um... sweetheart, they aren't here right now."

"Wh...what? But momma and papa are hurt! Hospitals heal people! So they should be ok...momma and Papa are ok..right?" She questions, lips quivering. The poor child didn't want to believe the horrifying images of her parents being real. The doctors can just piece them back together. They're miracle workers just like her father taught her.

The nurses stay quiet, not sure how to comfort the child while trying to keep the heartbreaking truth from her.

"Then Tete? Where's Eboni's Tete?" The eight year old questions, referring to her auntie.

The nurses remain silent again, confirming the child's suspicions. Her parents are gone. They weren't coming back. The doctors couldn't fix them. No one could bring them back. Her other family, her aunt, has completely left her to endure this new painful reality alone.

"No... NO MOMMA! PAPA! EBONI IS AWAKE! SHE'S OK, SO YOU SHOULD BE OK!" she screams, forcing herself to sit up - the child slipping into hysterics.

The nurses begin to panic, phoning for the doctor to come. Once there, he orders the nurses to hold the child down.

"But she's just a kid!" The second tries to reason.

"And she'll injure herself further in this state! We have to sedate her!" He explains, pulling out a rather large needle filled with cheer liquid.

Eboni sees this and screams at the top of her lungs, the same gut-wrenching scream as before. She trashes around, the nurses having no choice but to force the child down and strap her in place. The doctor sighs, walking over and forces the needle into a vein within the child's arm - slowly pushing the liquid into her.

Quickly, Eboni begins to calm down heavy tears streaming down her face. From that day forward, the young child's world - that was full of happiness and love - will become a life full of hellish experiences, solitude, and a chain of endless abuse.

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