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lexisecretaccx · 22 days

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A+ Student pt.2

Other parts on my Masterlist!

(Fem reader, Matt and Chris, suggestive, little angst, not proofread! Everyone is 18+, idk what else)

Summary: Y/n is a great student in her college, always getting good grades. Her college professor Matt, thinks she can get even higher ones with some “extra credit.” That is until she meets her new gym teacher..

“There she is!” Lizzy calls over to me, sat next to 3 other people who I don’t know, she motions me to sit opposite her. “Who are these?” I whisper to her. She chuckles, “this is Ethan, this is Jamie and this is Kelly.” She looks to a blonde girl sat next to her who smiles at me, “I’m new, I think I’m in your English class.” She giggles, “oh nice.” I smile uncomfortably.

I don’t enjoy being around new people, I know you have to be to make new friends but I honestly don’t want new friends. I eat my food silently while they all talk and make my way to the library for the last period, which was a free period. Nobody else who I knew had one so I was alone but it’s usually like that anyway.

Lizzy enjoys being around people, she’s pretty extroverted but not me.

I sit down at a table in the library and open a book, not a book to learn but just a book. Icebreaker. If you weren’t familiar with it, it’s a smutty book so reading it in school is a dangerous task.

I turn to the page I was on and read it. Whilst I was getting into the story, I sense someone looking at me and I turn around. Matt is stood there flicking through a book, he quickly drops his head from looking at me. I pack my book into my bag, placing the bookmark into the page and I walk to him. “Hey professor.” I lean up against the bookcase next to him.

“Oh hey y/n, you okay?” He smiles at me, “yeah I have a free period, what you reading?” I ask him looking at the book in his hands. He shrugs lightly, “I don’t know I just picked a random book,” he laughs quietly due to us being in a library. “Uh, why did Chris make you stay behind earlier?” He slightly leads my arm so we can sit down.

“I threw a dodgeball at Rachel, because she was saying shit about me.” I whisper, he chuckles, “Rachel in the English class?” I nod. “I’ll give her a D- next test if you want.” He grins, “No don’t do that.” I laugh, “I was kidding.”

We chat and I text him so he gets my number and the bell rings so I leave to go home. As I’m walking I get a text from Matts number, “extra credit 6pm? 27 Saques Lane.” I smile to myself before texting back, “sure see u there.”

I feel my cheeks heat up, am I really doing this? I get home and walk upstairs, showering, making myself look presentable and also slipping on a red lacy set, just in case.. I put on sweats and a crop top that shows my cleavage the perfect amount. Am I delusional? What if he doesn’t mean what I think he does? I start to feel anxious but I get a cab to his house.

The cab driver pulls up outside Matt’s and I pay him before hopping out of the car. I walk up his large driveway, this house must have at least 4 bedrooms or more, there’s a minivan in the driveway and a fancy Porsche. “Woah.” I mumble to myself. I knock the door nervously, someone opens the door. “Oh hey..” he says.

“Sorry I’m just heading out now, who are you?” He tilts his head slightly, “oh I’m y/n, I’m here to see Matt?” I speak, anxiety filling my chest. “Oh yeah he’s in the living room, see ya.” He walks past me without letting me say another word. “Okay..” I whisper. I walk in and I can hear music or something coming from the room next to me.

The door is glass so I peer through and see Matt laying back on a big couch facing a modern fireplace with a massive tv on it. How can he afford these things? I think to myself.

I open the door and walk in, Matt instantly turning his head to face me. His gaze softens as he realised it’s me. “I’m so sorry I didn’t hear you knock!” He stands up and walks to me, “it’s fine, the other one of you three opened the door.” I smile, “Nick?” He asks me and I shrug, “probably, it wasn’t Chris so yeah.” I laugh and he chuckles.

“Come sit.” He sits back down and I sit next to him, he turns the TV off and directs his attention to me, “so what extra credit should I do?” I lean closer to him, “like write a short story or do some quizzes or something else..” I look him up and down, the grey sweatpants sitting perfectly and the tight black tshirt is doing all sorts of good things.

“I like the third option.” He whispers before leaning in and brushing my hair out of my face. I know this is wrong but it feels so good. I press my lips to his and I melt into him, his soft lips move against mine perfectly.

He hums against my lips before pulling away too soon. “This is wrong.” He mumbled to himself. “I thought you wanted..” I go to speak but he cuts me off, “I don’t know y/n.. what if I lose my job?” He stands up and wipes his mouth, “fuck.” He breathes out. “I’m sorry..” I fidget with my hands.

“Don’t apologise.. please y/n? I just...” He pinches the bridge of his nose. “I wasn’t thinking straight.. you’re just so.. I don’t know.” He sits on the coffee table opposite me.

“So you don’t want me anymore?” I ask, and he huffs, “No I’m not saying that.. but I also am. I just love my job, and you’re great at the subject but I don’t want this.” He motions between us. My eyes well with tears, “what?” My voice cracks, “don’t cry, please? I’m gonna go for a drive.. clear my head but you can stay here until I’m back if you want.” He smiles and pats my shoulder.

He walks out the door, “what the fuck just happened.” I cry softly to myself, placing my head in my hands. I should’ve know that this wasn’t what he wanted truly. Fuck I feel awful, I’m a slut.

After 5 minutes I stand up to go leave and the front door opens infront of me, Matt wouldn’t be home this quickly, what if it’s Nick? He doesn’t know me and I’m crying in his hallway. “Oh fuck you scared me.” I look up to see Chris, I breathe out softly, “oh shit you okay?” He walks up to my and rests his hand on my shoulder, I shake my head. “No.” I squeak before crying harder.

Without hesitation he pulls me into his chest and hugs me, I pull my head off of him and he looks down, “I don’t wanna get makeup on your shirt.” I whisper and he chuckles. “It’s fine.”

We pull away from the hug, “that’s embarrassing.” I laugh lightly, and he tilts his head, “what is?” I shrug, “I fucking cried in my gym teachers arms.” He laughs softly, “that’s not embarrassing.. but why are you in my house crying?” He leads me to the kitchen and we sit up to the island. “Uh.. fuck I don’t know if I can tell.” I sigh.

“Matt? Right?” He asks. I nod, “We didn’t do anything, he just flipped out.” He cracks his knuckles, “well he is your professor maybe he got scared, he’s never been one to take risks.” Chris leans on the counter smiling at me. I sigh, “yeah but he made me think he wanted something.”

“It’s okay, when is he coming back?” He rubs my back comfortingly, I shrug. “I don’t know, he didn’t say.” Chris nods. The room has gotten tense, not an awkward tension but it’s indescribable.

“What did you mean earlier today?” Chris’ eyes meet mine and he hums in confusion, “when you said there was ways for me to get higher grades, what did you mean by that?” I ask again, the corners of his mouth flick up before relaxing, “it wasn’t what you were thinking..” he smirks.

“What did you think I was thinking?” I lean on the counter infront of me slightly, “I think you were thinking that I was implying something sexual.. weren’t you y/n?” He leans in slightly, I shake my head gently. “No I wasn’t thinking that.. you’re my teacher.” I scoff, “didn’t stop you from trying with Matt huh?” He leant in further.

“The difference between me and him? I like to take risks.” He leant in so his nose brushed against mine before he pulled away. I feel my cheeks redden, he laughs at my nervousness, “do you want-” I go to speak but the front door unlocks and both of us turn to face the door before Chris gets up and walks over to the fridge. Matt walks in and goes to check the living room before he notices me in the kitchen.

“Oh hey.” He spoke softly walking towards me, his eyes dart to Chris standing there opening a can of Pepsi. His jaw tightens, “hey Matty boy you okay?” Chris teases and Matt rolls his eyes, “see ya tomorrow y/n.” Chris spoke as he walks past me, patting my shoulder and going out into the hall. “Did you tell him.. or?” Matt starts to talk.

“I don’t want to talk to you right now.” I sigh, “hey what did I do?” He asks with genuine concern on his face, I scoff. “You led me on to believe you wanted something from me!” I stand up out of the seat. “Come on y/n, I’m your professor.. grow up.” He spoke, I just started walking towards the front door.

“Wait.. wait.” He yelled slightly before grabbing my arm. “Get off.” I hiss. “I’m sorry okay?” He whispers in my ear before letting go. “I’ll see you in tomorrow’s lecture, no hard feelings right?” He smiled and I just opened the door and walked out. I felt angry. Why did he pretend he wanted something and then treats me like shit.

Chris is nice though.. “y/n.. please come back.” I hear Matt calling from behind me and I turn around, I still can’t deny that I find him so fucking gorgeous he’s just kind of a dick.. “what?” I reply. “I’ll bump your overall trade to an A+.. I know how much you want it and you deserve it.” He smiles as he catches up with me, he brushes my hair out my face. “Thanks…” I feel drawn into him.

What kind of spell has he got on me? He’s manipulating me right? “What were you and Chris doing?” He asks me, as his hand rests on my arm, “the thing we didn’t do.” I whisper just to watch his expression change. It did exactly that and his gaze hardens, “what?” He mumbles, “we talked.. me and you haven’t done that.” I turn around and continue to walk away.

I turn away to see him walking back to his house slowly, I can’t let him manipulate me but I just don’t know.. there’s something about him.. but also about Chris.. maybe it’s the fact they’re both my teachers, or maybe it’s because they look the same but are so different at the same time.

I just don’t know what I want..

A/n: Team Chris or Team Matt? I have good plans for this but I cannot reveal and I also cannot upload too much bc of how busy I ammm! Ily all and thanks for 600 followers that’s crazy!

@blahbel668 @mattsleftnipple03 @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @hysteria-things @mattybslover @jakevwebber @braindead4l @mattybearnard @st7rnioioss @junnniiieee07 @sturniolosmind @fratbrochrisgf @sturniol0s @alwayssublimedelusion @certifiednatelover @freshsturns @riasturns @sturniololvrrr @maryx2xx @whicked-hazlatwhore @cammie4298 @sturnsjtop @sturnzblog @chr1sgirl4life @evie-sturns @milasturniolo @jaxyy219

#sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #sturniolo #chris sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo smut #sturniolos #smut #chris sturniolo fanfic #matt

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hxltic · 1 year

Text

• established relationship

•Genre: smut

You’re in the lonesome bathroom of the party correcting your makeup when Rin suddenly makes his way through the door. He hastily closes it behind him. How it wasn’t locked? You have no idea.

You expected his arrival, just not as grand as this. It wasn’t new. It wasn’t new to always call and find each other as if seeking refuge. The mirror reflects his hands trudging up his face to brush through his hair, meanwhile the mascara wand waved idly in your hand when you quipped, “Who ya running from?”

A course “Nobody” was all you received. You thought he’d just come in and sit on the toilet seat to talk or waste time with you.

Finding a stopping point, you turned to him and your fresh eyes trailed his body leaning on the door. He looked paler than usual, dark hair falling over his weaker, heavily red-tinted face. The mascara clicked into the bottle and tightened as you twisted.

“Rin are…are you okay?”

He sighed and one hand fell to the doorknob while the other fell to his pocket.

“…If I’m being completely honest, no. Come here please,” he huffed out. He was breathless like he rushed up here to you. You guess it was a random call from him that you put on speaker over the trap music, however, you didn’t ask why he needed to see you so instantaneously.

You took slow, incredulous footsteps forward to his chest in the already tight space. Clearly you weren’t fast enough because he cupped your face—both hands—and tugged you close.

“Look at me,” he ordered. Your eyes focused on each of his earnestly. “You know I love you right?”

“Yes.” A distrusting countenance slowly morphed onto your face, matching your previous steps.

“You know you look so fucking good, right?”

“…Rin where is this-“

“-I think my drink was spiked. My drink was spiked with something and I’m saying I’m sorry now because I am just one fucking word away from bending you over this counter. It needs to be yours.”

Your cheeks flushed red as you examined his face again, confirming he did look a little sick. Except not the coughing sick; the lightheaded, desperate need that can make you delusional sick. You were terrified to look down.

“But won’t that stuff still be in your system? you need to throw it up or something before-“

“I can’t be sure but it doesn’t feel out of the ordinary, like a viagra or something. I’ll do whatever you want after. Just need to be inside of you in the next ten seconds before I pass out.”

He was rambling in a pitch slightly higher than usual, desperation seeping off his words. His chest motioned up and down with each difficult breath he took gazing into your eyes, upturned brows not-very-patiently awaiting your response. Hey, it was a party after all.

You kept your eyes trained but turned to give yourself up to him.

The slim eyes lit up. A single palm forced you down by the middle of your upper back, effectively bending you over. He did it so swiftly you could’ve taken it as routine.

Hands situated and caressed your waist in admiration, hips following suit as you pressed them back into him. His fingertips dug holes through the sequin covered fabric and into your skin, the obvious print rubbed right between your legs with the dress flipped up, and the friction was sending him away.

Oh god he needed it so bad, all his hormones at peak and the first thing on his mind being you. He knew he needed to stretch you out and he knew how especially good that pretty pussy would taste spread for him on the counter, but his dick was quite literally throbbing.

He may have realized it a little late considering he had a high sex-drive anyway, but this was something completely different. He was so hard it hurt. So when he called you, shoving through people as you gave him your location in the house, he was already overheating from swarming throngs of people and the alcohol swimming through his blood.

So when your slit rolled perfectly over him he had to undo his pants immediately.

“I can leave it to you to wear no panties to a party.”

“Gotta give ‘em a show,” you giggle.

With the clank of his belt and its drop to the floor, he taunted, “Only one of us is taking the show home.”

Suna was already a pretty impatient person, so when a finger dipped into you slow and welcoming he had to add another. A squelch sound came from the way he pumped into you as if you were already ready to take him.

#haikyuu!!#haikyū!!#haikyuu headcanons #haikyu x reader #haikyuu smut #haikyuu hcs #god i want him so bad #suna rintaro #suna x reader #haikyuu suna #suna headcanons #suna imagines #suna smut #suna rintaro haikyuu #suna rintarō #suna haikyuu #rintarou suna #suna rintaro x reader

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perfectsunlight · 1 month

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✧ 𝟬𝟳 ✧ nonchalant

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: n/a

⸺

𝗽𝗿𝗲𝘃𝗶𝗼𝘂𝘀 | 𝗺𝗮𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁 | 𝗻𝗲𝘅𝘁

there were very few things that made bada lee feel scared.

but she never thought an upset american girl would be one of them.

“leaving your things in my room is a bit childish, don’t you think?” bada’s tone was sarcastic, but laced with a hint of pointed blame at the younger girl. her back was leaning against the cement wall, arms folded against her chest in a manner only described as nonchalant. or at least, attempted nonchalance.

the older girl merely shrugged at y/n’s silence, her expression still unreadable. “apologies aren't really your thing, are they?” she remarked, a hint of amusement in her voice. "but don't worry, i'm used to it."

silence failed to fill the void because of y/n’s feisty remark. “oh that’s rich coming from you, don’t you think?” the younger girl hissed, pointing a finger up at the taller girl. it took every fiber in her being to not punch bada square in the face.

the last time they were this close, she almost did.

bebe’s leader scoffed lightly, feeling her patience already wearing thin. y/n king always had a knack for making the waves choppy.

she narrowed her eyes slightly, scanning the younger girl’s face for any sign of emotion other than anger and annoyance. “why did you leave it there? because i know i didn’t grab it.”

y/n’s expression hardened, her jaw set in defiance as she squared her shoulders. bada was entirely taller than she was, but the younger girl didn’t care. it wasn’t like it made her any less punch-able.

she was never scared of bada. not even now.

“and what if i did?” the younger shot back, her voice sharp with defiance. “what are you going to do about it?”

bada pushed herself off the wall and closed the distance between herself and the younger girl. the familiar scent of chanel perfume lingered in her nose before she leaned back slightly. “you think you can intimidate me with a jacket?” she murmured, her voice low and almost scoffing.

“you're delusional, y/n.”

the american’s eyes narrowed, a cold smile playing at the corners of her lips. “am i?” she whispered, her voice light but dangerous. truth be told, bada was already anxious about this competition. but with y/n being in it?

she was terrified.

“we both know there's more between us than just a jacket.”

bada's breath caught in her throat, a wave of conflicting past emotions washing over her. of course y/n would bring that up now.

“there is nothing between us,” she quickly stated, her voice strained but defiant. “and what happened has got nothing to do with this competition.”

it almost felt like she lied through her teeth. but nevertheless, she was a leader. and team bebe needed her to focus on nothing else but the competition ahead.

silence passed between the two for less than a moment, and it almost felt like y/n was giving the older girl a chance to take back her words.

needless to say, she didn’t.

there were very few things that made bada lee feel scared.

but nothing scared her more than the upset american girl in front of her.

y/n's smile widened, a cruel glint in her eyes. if bada squinted, she could make out her own reflection in the younger girl’s eyes.

“oh, but it does," the american replied, her voice dripping with pure malice. it was a tone bada had never heard before, not from y/n or from anyone. it made her uneasy. it made her feel out of place.

it was an odd feeling, especially for someone of her caliber. but nothing made her blood run cold like the way y/n’s next words did.

“because this time, i'm going to make sure you lose everything.”

✧ 𝗧𝗔𝗚𝗟𝗜𝗦𝗧 ✧ ⸺ @10cmpulisic22 @zhivaxo @the2ndl @moonsvrse @arievlaw @awkwardtoafault @mightymyo @1luvkarina @jisooftme @angel-hyuckie @bangtancritterrrr @unforgivenangel @starchasermyloves @deadgirlwalking3 @cosettesrants @faatxma @santasbitch @jaeneohee @jxrdxnh @kaaylvst @jesuschrist2006 @enhapocketz @stinkbvgs @neuftaeng @sinifere @ocyeanicc @svt-rei @l-a-u-r-a--b @yunjinwrld @leo-dragon @phamminji

⸺ ✧ 𝗖𝗟𝗢𝗦𝗘𝗗 ✧ ⸺

#smau #all american bitch #bada lee #bada lee x reader #street woman fighter 2 #swf2 #original series #swf2 x reader #perfectsunlight

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maximoff-pan · 2 years

Note

steve and reader drabble about a secret relationship mayhaps? 😫

you know I can’t resist writing for this hunk of a man ;)

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

word count: 2.4k

warning(s): some swears, being caught red handed 🤭

quick a/n: hi lovelies! sorry for being m.i.a recently. I’ve gone back to school and it’s been too busy for me to write anything. I apologize for this being rushed/incoherent, please forgive me….

part two

Fucking girls night…

Whatever possessed you to think this was a good idea, you’re not entirely sure. Honestly, you can’t even remember who convinced you to come; they’d all been begging you for weeks to finally show up to one of these things. And now that you’re here, you’re quickly realizing why you’d been so hesitant before.

You don’t think you’ve ever felt this flustered or uncomfortable in your life, and that’s definitely saying something. Really saying something…

It’s not the fact that everyone here has a significant other that bothers you. It’s the fact that everyone here has a significant other, and they think you don’t. Because as far as they’re concerned, you’re as single as single can be.

Which would be fine if it was the truth. But it’s not. And the guilt is starting to eat at you. How many more times do they have to try and set you up before you break?

Quite frankly, at this rate, it feels like you’re almost there.

“What about Peter Wilson?”

Robin recoils at Nancy’s suggestion, picking her nails in disgust. “Absolutely not.”

You remain quiet. They’re trying to find you a boyfriend, again.

“What’s so bad about him?” Max inquires.

El adds, “He’s kind of cute.”

“Sure,” Robin scoffs, “If you’re into delusional sociopaths.”

Tilting her head, brow quirked, Nancy asks, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Robin’s pitch drops slightly. “Let’s just say, that incident where Stacy Mathers almost drowned last summer, wasn’t so much of an accident.”

Max’s eyes widen. “You mean he tried to–” she trails, too disturbed to even finish the sentence.

Robin nods. “That one’s as sadistic as they come.”

“Okay.” Nancy agrees, moving the conversation along. “So that’s a no on Peter.”

“Ooh.” El claps, eyes locking with Max. “What about Adam?”

“Adam Richards?”

Max and El nod together.

Your head has never whipped around faster. “You can’t be serious!”

Your voice catches Robin’s attention. “First of all,” she smirks, “welcome to the conversation! And second of all, what could possibly be wrong with him?” She knows exactly what’s wrong with him, she just wants to see you squirm.

“Rob, he’s fucking sixteen.”

“And?” Max joins in.

“I’m almost twenty.” You state. That should be reason enough, but as you glance between them, they don’t look convinced. The concern on your face is evident as you say, “I am not about to be some cradle robber!”

“But he’s like,” Max pauses adding on a valley girl accent, “the hottest Junior at Hawkin’s High.”

Your face scrunches in disgust, mimicking the accent back. “Fucking, ew.”

Nancy and El giggle at the interaction.

“Okay, so you’re not into younger guys then.” Robin teases, a sparkle of mischief in her stare. “Noted.”

These girls are going to drive you into madness…

“You know what else I’m not into?” The cadence of your voice carries with a hint of amusement. “My friends desperately trying to set me up because they think I’m pathetic and lonely.”

“But you are lonely.” Is El’s retort. Three pairs of eyes widen at the remark, but not yours. El’s bluntness has never surprised you. It’s actually pretty comforting, because you know she’d never lie to you.

Nancy hisses with a whine. “El.”

You’ve been around the Wheeler’s long enough to know that Nancy was raised to be a proper young lady, one who would never dare offend anyone. That alone causes your lip to quirk in bemusement.

You chuckle, feelings quite intact. “Oh good.” Your smile is cheeky. “At least you don’t think I’m pathetic.”

“She never said she didn’t.” Max points out with a grin.

“Hilarious Maxine.” You mock a sarcastic and melodic laugh.

“I don’t think you’re pathetic.” El cuts in before Max can say anything else. “I just think you need a boyfriend.”

You have half a mind to say ‘I’ve already got one,’ but you bite your tongue.

Just like you have for the last six months.

That’s half a year of trying so hard to keep your relationship status on the down low. Because things with Steve are new, and after many years of denying any feelings towards each other, you finally decided to go for it. But, on the off chance you both found that you were better off as friends, you came to the mutual decision that waiting to tell the kids (and everyone else) was the best idea. As much as you think they’d be happy to see you two together (and boy have they pushed for it), it’s not something you’d want to get their hopes up for.

You’re serious about Steve, more serious than you’ve ever been about anyone before. As much confidence as you hold in your love for him, you know he’s serious about you too. And maybe now that you’re certain (at least on your end) that you’re both sure, you can start to tell everyone about your relationship. For tonight though, you’re going to have to continue playing the role of the lonely single.

How tragic…your mind wanders.

“Oh my god!” Nancy’s interjection catches you off guard. She’s masking her smirk well, but you can still see it. “How could I not have thought of this?”

Her surprise feels more like it’s been planned, like she’s been thinking of a way to bring whatever she’s been thinking about into the conversation without rousing too much suspicion.

“Thought of what?” Robin asks, feeding into it.

Your eyes narrow.

Nancy leans over to whisper something into her ear. The chain continues with Robin leaning in to tell Max, and Max whispering it to El, leaving you thoroughly left out.

What is she planning?

“Uh, a little inclusion might be nice.” You tutt.

Four pairs of eyes bore into you, excited smiles resting on each of their faces.

Here it comes, you think.

“All this talk of boys…” Nancy starts. “What about Steve?” She asks.

And there it is. “Guys.” You groan. “Not this again.”

“C’mon (Y/n), please?” Max’s whine is on the verge of a full on beg. “I know you’ve thought about it. We all see the way you look at each other.”

“Like I do.” El’s matter-of-factness is not so comforting in this moment. “With Mike. And Max, with Lucas.”

“Oh!” Max exclaims. “Remember when Nancy and Jonathan first got together? They were really good friends, like you and Steve.”

You take a quick glance over to Nancy who’s now gone quiet, a pink blush covering the softness of her cheeks.

“Guys. Steve and I are just that,” you eye each of them with a deep intensity, “friends.”

Nancy remembers saying the exact same thing to Murray Bauman after he’d accused her and Jonathan of suppressing their feelings.

She hadn’t quite known then how strong she felt about him, as she does now. But as she glances in your direction, she reads an expression on your face that she wasn’t expecting: guilt.

You don’t exactly look like someone who’s freaking themselves out over their newly discovered — and to everyone else, totally obvious — feelings for their best friend like she had. Instead, you look like you’ve accepted them, and more so, if Nancy is as good at reading you as she thinks she is, you look like you’re hiding something.

“You’d be perfect together.” Is one of Max’s last attempts of the night at convincing you. She only wants to see you happy. Maybe if she just pushed a little more.

Your heart wrenches at her words.

You hate lying to them, you really do. You’re almost not sure why you’re doing it anymore, but you can’t seem to stop yourself.

God, you wish a black hole would suck you into the abyss. “Max, you know that’s not how it works. You can’t decide you’re going to be with someone just because you want to be. There’s a whole other person to consider.”

“Semantics.” She puffs a breath of air, waving you off. “And not if that other person is already head over heels in love with you.”

“Max.” You warn with the tilt of your head and an extremely deep breath.

Robin jumps in, lips pulled into a cheeky grin. “I’m not hearing a no.”

If that’s what it’ll take, you think, “Then no.” You finally say.

Robin catches your gaze, her eyes softening. All hints of teasing seem to be gone. There’s no way this can mean anything good.

“I know I don’t do this often,” she starts, “but I’m going to say something in all seriousness here.”

“Please don’t.”

Robin’s unimpressed stare tells you that she’s not only going to ignore your request, but she also really means what she’s about to say. Her voice is steady and calm as she speaks, “Steve likes you.” She says like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, and you suppose it is. At least now.

“He’s told me. I mean, he really, really likes you… like marry you this instant, thinks about having six kids with you, likes you…” She drags the words slowly trying to emphasize her point.

You know this. But you have to play that you don’t. “Jeez, I don’t know about the six kids and the marriage part, I think you might be getting way ahead of yourself there Rob,” your voice drifts slightly. “But I’d hope that at the very least Steve likes me. It’s not like he’s one of my best friends or anything.”

Max lets out a low groan. Robin has basically confirmed that Steve (despite everyone else already knowing this) is in love with you, and you’re still refusing to acknowledge it.

It’s beyond frustrating. “You’re so hopeless.” She says.

“Am I?” You jest. As guilty as you feel, this is sort of fun for you.

“Terribly.” Is her reply.

You grin, happy to change the subject. “Can’t make things easy for you now can I?”

“We’d never expect you to.” Stormy blue orbs catch yours, a flicker of recognition flashing back to you.

There's a hint in Nancy’s voice and demeanour that tells you she knows more than she’s letting on. The look she gives you says it all: your secret’s safe with me.

You shouldn’t be surprised that she picked up on it. She’s probably known for months. Because not only does she know you and Steve better than almost anyone else, she knows exactly what Steve looks like when he’s in love.

With a soft smile falling onto your lips, you breathe a sigh of relief in the moment of brief silence that rests between you. Someone knows, and they approve. Your eyes glimmer gratefully. Thank you. Your signal is nonverbal, but she understands nonetheless.

You’re welcome.

• ж • ж • ж •

Steve wonders how you’re doing right about now. Because at the moment, he wants nothing more than to be with you, hanging out and not having to worry about keeping this a secret.

For the past hour, Dustin, Lucas, and Mike have been driving him up a wall. Susie this. El that. Max, blah blah blah.

Mike had started it all with a quick, ‘Hey Steve, why don’t you have a girlfriend?’

Then Lucas had joined in. ‘Yeah, what happened to you man? I thought you were supposed to be some kind of God or something?’

“He used to be.” Dustin had assured them. “Still is. The God’s somewhere in there.” Dustin poked at Steve’s chest. He’d seen Steve in action before, he knows the charm is real.

The pale raven haired teen beside Dustin then snorted. “Bagging my sister doesn’t count.”

Steve almost punted Mike over that one. Smug little bastard…

And that’s not even the worst of it. Steve can take the constant teasing of his romantic failures; he’s been doing that for years now, taking blow after blow to his ego. It’s Eddie’s creepy staring that’s sending him over the fucking edge. Every time he looks over, there’s Eddie, already looking at him.

Steve shudders at the thought. He can feel Munson’s pair of deep brown eyes burning holes through his back, the hairs on his neck raised in discomfort. It’s like with every breath Steve takes, Eddie is analyzing it. He’s this close to smacking Eddie upside the head and telling him to cut this shit out.

It’s only when they get a moment alone does he discover the reason for the Hellfire club leader’s strange behaviour. They stand awkwardly in Mrs. Henderson’s kitchen, fumbling for snacks for the boys when Eddie finally breaks the silence.

“So,” his smirk is apparent. Steve didn’t know someone could smile that wide. “I was thinking.”

“Ah.” Steve hums trying to settle the nervous pit in his stomach. “Is that what that was?”

Eddie chuckles. “You know what Steve-O? Just for the ‘tude, maybe I shouldn’t tell you what I was thinking…” he trails.

That’s a challenge if he’s ever heard one, and he’s not about to bite. Eddie is anything but patient.

“Fine by me.” Steve claps a hand on Eddie’s shoulder as he passes him to grab a bowl from one of Dustin’s cupboards.

Eddie’s brow raises in surprise at his response, running a hand through his curly mop of hair.“Woah, c’mon.” He moves swiftly following him. “I was only kidding! Of course I’m going to tell you.”

Steve grabs the bag of popcorn from the cupboard, and pops it into the microwave. “Alright.”

“Okay.”

A couple of moments pass before:

“So?...” Steve’s fingers drum across the countertop in anxiety.

Eddie’s eyes widen. “Oh right.” He says, watching the time tick down on the clock. “It’s more of a question really.”

Steve moves to grab the bag out of the microwave as the timer beeps. “Shoot.” He replies, gently dumping the popcorn into the big plastic bowl. He’s kind of proud of himself for keeping this calm when he feels so on edge.

“Stop me if I cross the line or anything,” That’s never a good start to a sentence…

Eddie’s voice lowers in volume, but his tone grows in confidence. There’s something else to it, amusement…satisfaction maybe, Steve can’t quite place it. But he doesn’t like it.

Amber eyes meet a honey brown. Steve’s not sure how many seconds pass before he hears Eddie say:

“How long have you and (Y/n) been fucking?”

Well, fuck.

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington imagines #stranger thing imagine #stranger things x reader

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lestappenforever · 3 months

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So, I’m like a realist, right? Sure, yes, I ship people from time to time but I know it’s just for funsies. So, I saw a lestappen edit last week and was like “hey cute guys, what’s up with these two? I better check it out.” and have fallen into a bit of a rabbit hole it seems. So I’m back in the real world now, where Max is in a long term relationship and Charles has a girlfriend, and am wondering: how does one explain Max’s behaviour? Does he just have a friend-crush on Charles? Has he always wanted to be friends with him since they were young and it was just hard since they’ve been rivals for so long? Does he envy him maybe since his father wasn’t a pos and he still turned into a great driver? Is it a “it’s lonely at the top” kind of situation, where he’s never been able to make many friends his own age? (I’ve seen Charles with a bunch of friends outside of racing, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen Max with any, but that could be on me.) I mean, a blind person could see that Max takes every opportunity to talk to him or be close to him and he knows stuff about him I’d personally be too embarrassed to admit (like getting his “stupid” quote exactly right or knowing about the twitch thing with his girlfriend forgetting her keys, etc.). I guess I’m looking for the actual non-shippy explanation for this behaviour cause it fascinates me. What are your two cents on this?

Hi anon, and welcome to the world of Lestappen! We're happy to have you. ❤️

I will preface this by saying that shipping is solely for fun, and I don't actually believe Max and Charles are in a secret relationship or anything of the sort. The majority of Lestappen shippers on Tumblr are on the same page about this, with some exceptions, but there are exceptions to anything. And a big part of shipping is speculating, being delusional about them, and overanalyzing things.

Now, in terms of a non-shipping explanation as to why these two behave the way they do around each other, I think it's a combination of all the reasons you've already listed. And the thing about Max and Charles is that they have known each other for so many years. They have been in each other's orbit, in one way or another, for the majority of their lives, and there is no denying that they have seen each other as one of — if not the — biggest rival they've had since they were children. Despite the fact that a lot of the current drivers on the grid have raced each other at some point before F1, there doesn’t seem to be any of them that have the same sort of rivalry that Max and Charles have, which goes so far back. And that kind of bond is one that I believe sticks with you forever.

Now this is not a delusional take at all, as this quote by Armando Filini, manager of the Maranello Kart, the first team for which Leclerc raced, proves: “They were always fighting. It didn't matter if they were competing in a tie or in a final, if it was raining or if the track was dry. Once we were in Genk, Belgium, in the first free practice, and they went on track. Charles and Max met, began to push each other and almost hit each other, with the risk of being left out. Jos Verstappen and I were glued to the fence to look at them and he turned around and said to me: 'These two will fight forever. They will fight even in F1′. A prophecy”.

Even though Max and Charles obviously haven’t been best friends for the majority of the time they've known each other, and they've only started building what appears to be a genuine friendship in the last few years, they share a connection that has been evident to people around them since they were little.

Max's comment from last season where he said that he wasn't surprised both him and Charles were sitting in that press conference together because he always thought that if he made it into F1, Charles would too, is just another testament to how tied together they actually are. And Charles' fond recollections of their karting days in the past season shows that it's a mutual thing: that Charles feels that same bond with Max that Max feels with him. And I think this is the whole baseline for why they've never been able to be normal about or around each other: because they go so far back and their lives are so intertwined that I honestly don't think either of them is fully capable of treating the other as just any other colleague or friend, because they don't see each other that way. They're something more, and by that I don't mean they're secretly in love with each other — they just have this bond that goes beyond normal friendship, forged through years of rivalry, envy, conflict, mutual growth and respect, and eventual friendship.

I have a childhood friend sort of like that: obviously not with the rivalry and drama that comes with the surroundings in which Max and Charles met and grew up, but someone that I share a bond with that I don't share with any of my other friends, old or new, and it's honestly my most treasured friendship because it has helped shape me as a person in a profound sort of way. He's not my closest friend and not the friend I talk to the most since we live on different sides of the country and our paths haven’t crossed much in the past few years, as is often the case when you grow up and become an independent adult. But when I do talk to him and hang out with him, it kind of feels like coming home. And to me, it seems like Max and Charles share that same type of bond.

This is just my personal take as I obviously don't know Max or Charles, and this is all based off of watching their interactions and watching their relationship develop over the past few years, as well as deepdiving into their history in the past. But this is the explanation that makes sense to me.

#Asks #Anon asks #Lestappen asks #Lestappen dynamics anons #Lestappen

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jake-webber · 3 months

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SOBER (NOT) | COLBY BROCK

ANON: “drunk moments with colby brock (got inspired by kat’s old drunk streamss) platonic and maybe male reader?”

PAIRING colby brock x platonic!male!reader

BEFORE READING i love the drunk streams i watch them whenever i wanna feel something. also, love this req despite having the hardest time to write this lmao, kat and sam r still together here (let me be delusional),

It was around 3 hours in Kat’s livestream did you start feeling yourself loosening up from the immense amount of alcohol you’ve down – you couldn’t name them even if you wanted to – but it seemed you’re not the only one, despite how many times he’s been denying it the whole stream.

“Chat, can we make another poll for who’s the drunkest? Cuz I’m sure Colby’s the drunkest.” Kat said to her chat with a cheeky grin on her face. You chuckled to yourself when you see Colby ripping his attention off of his phone to react.

The said boy gasped, “I am not!” He exclaimed. “You’re telling me I’m the drunkest when this guy is right here.” Colby pointed his finger towards your declining posture from your sit behind Kat.

You turn to look at him with furrowed eyebrows. “Hey, it’s rude to point, you bitch.” You lean towards Colby with a finger jabbing on his chest. “You’re literally so loud right now and you’re only this loud when you’re shitfaced drunk.”

“I’m always this loud!” He yelled, a vein popping out from his neck. Sam looked at the camera in disbelief. “Dude, you gotta calm down.” He said, making you and Kat laugh.

The argument eventually dies down a bit as Kat continues to talk with her chat. You can’t remember what you were doing before Colby had his hand wrapped around your neck and one arm around your torso.

“What the fuck are you doing? Let go of meee…” You tried to get away from him by pushing him off with all your strength, but that only resulted for him to tighten his grip even further, though not enough for you to feel pain, thankfully.

“Not until you admit you’re the drunkest.” Colby whispered into your ear, a mischievous smile on his lips.

“You’re still on that?”

“I never left, baby.”

“That just confirms the fact that you are drunk, if not, the drunkest.” Your drunk self decided it was a good idea to tease him, knowing full well how to push Drunk Colby’s buttons, which didn’t really help you to get out of the your current situation.

It seems to work though when you see him puff his cheeks out of annoyance, pulling you closer to him, a bit rougher this time. It caught the attention of Sam first who only watched the scene. You didn’t do anything to fight back at first, humoring Colby, and allowed him do whatever he’s doing before you feel yourself getting lifted off of your sit.

“Dude, what are you doing!?” You screeched, a very manly one, as he Colby placed you on his lap in attempt to give himself better grip to practically cut the air from your lungs.

“Colby! Holy sh- Get away from me!” You screamed one more time when he threatened to make you fall by moving his legs apart.

“I am not letting go.” He simply said with a chuckle, eyes back to the camera as if he wasn’t practically holding you hostage.

Instead of helping you out, Kat only laughed as Sam went back to drinking with a shrug. She moved her chair to let the chat see what Colby is doing to you. “I guess the poll was right, you guys?”

A few hours into the stream, more people joined and kept the chat occupied, leaving you and Colby in your own world at the corner.

“I want to pee so bad.” You finally looked over to Colby after fulfilling your promise of ignoring him for a whole 15 minutes, eyebrows raised at the information. “I think my dick’s going to fall off if I move.” He winced in pain, holding on to his thighs.

If you weren’t as drunk as Colby right now, you would’ve told him to just go to the bathroom, but his words reminded you of your own bladder too. “Fuck, me too.”

“Will you hold on to mine if I hold on to yours?” He suddenly asked out of nowhere.

“Dude, no. You have hands.” You replied almost immediately, grossed out of the idea.

“But I’d be holding yours–“

“Why would you be holding my dick?!” Too engrossed into the conversation, you failed to kept your volume to yourself causing a chorus of ‘woahs’ and ‘whats’ from your friends.

Sam, being the closest to the two of you from his seat, turned around to face you both. “Do you guys want to share anything with the class right now?”

You had excused yourself from the group to freshen up when Colby followed along. The closest bathroom was his so you entered his room without another word.

“Really making yourself at home, aren’t you?” He commented from behind you before walking past to slump on his bed.

You entered the bathroom, leaving the door open, as you answered. “Don’t act like I’m the only doing this to someone else’s room.”

Colby took a minute to answer, giving you the time to wash your face, “You have the comfiest bed in the whole house though.”

After drying yourself off, making you a bit sober from the cold, you entered back to the bedroom and saw him on his phone. “We have the same mattress, Colby.”

“It’s different.”

“Not really.”

You sat beside him on his silk sheets, pushing him to the middle of the bed and made yourself a bit comfortable. Though the shoes you had weren’t exactly fit for lying down.

You looked over at Colby, “You going back to the stream?”

This seemed to catch the boy’s reaction, making him stop his scrolling on his phone. “How many hours does Kat have?”

“Like, 10 hours still.”

Colby groaned, lazily throwing his phone on the pillows, sinking further down on the bed. “God, no. Are you?” He eyed you from his spot as you think. “Can Kat even do the 10 hours?” He added.

You chuckled, knowing full well Kat doesn’t have the sleep schedule that’ll let her stay up that long. “Yeah, I’ll just text her I’m tired.”

“Tell her for me too.” Colby squeezed himself to your side, looking at your phone as you began typing your message. He leaned back over your shoulder. “Take a picture of me with my eyes closed.”

“With your glasses on?” You said with an amused chuckle, opening your camera.

“It adds to it.”

#colby brock #incorrect colby brock #colby brock x y/n #colby brock x you #colby x reader #colby brock x reader #colby brock imagine

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nightcourtreader · 3 months

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I am seeing a lot of gwynriels getting hate lately because we’re excited about new character information about Az and a lot of people believing that Azriel’s book is next.

I feel like it’s fair, as readers to point out how the author is deliberately bringing a lot of attention to Azriel at the moment. It’s absolutely fair to believe that Azriel’s book is going to be next. We all know that Elain and Azriel’s stories are going to be told and it’s just a matter of when. A lot of people just think that it’s Azriel next and that’s fine if you disagree, but gwynriels shouldn’t be attacked or called delusional if they think that.

But being called delusional when we think that when SJM has build on Azriel’s character arc purposely since we’ve seen him on page since acomaf, gave him a bonus for acosf, then had him feature in cc3, then have him apart of a bonus again for cc3 is crazy. Especially since we learned more about Azriel in cc3.

Then people are dissing the hell out of Gwyn. Oh she’s just a side character, she isn’t important. Isn’t everyone a side character at the moment besides feysand & Nessian? Since they already had their stories told. And wasn’t Gwyn the one to introduce the valkryie storyline in acosf & became the first valkryie when the valkryie plotline is a huge plotline of acosf to the point where SJM named the different sections of acosf valkryie titles? And SJM could have easily had nesta become the first valkryie.

Gwyn can absolutely have a pov with Azriel in the next book. SJM herself stated she has two more acotar books (I’m not sure if she’s contracted for more). She said for each book, a couple is going to come together. That leaves 2 pov besides Azriel and Elain because we know she’s going to give them one. For Azriel’s counter part, it could easily be Gywn.

Gwyn is still in the library. The valkryies are still training. Gwyn has a autumn court ancestry, no matter how many people claim she doesn’t have a firm claim for it. Gwyn’s powers are a very popular controversial topic in the fandom on the daily. Gywn’s story is left opened and SJM didn’t add all that to Gwyn’s backstory for no reason. She retcon the sangravah story so Azriel was the one to save Gwyn. SJM dropped mate language in her BC with Azriel and Gwyn and yes, SJM references her bonus chapters in text. She did so in acosf when it came to cassian’s & nesta’s bonus chapter for acomaf, titled wings and ember.

Yrene in tog, was really fledged out in tower of Dawn and became a really important factor in the next book in the series, kingdom of ash. Why couldn’t the same thing be said for Gwyn? Just because she was introduced in acosf, doesn’t mean that Gwyn can’t have a pov in the next book.

There are different plotlines for Azriel to go through in his story. It’s not like he has 0 plotlines to filter through. SJM would be the one to decide what plotlines have the sense of urgency for the next acotar book.

CC3 can be used for evidence, because the author herself stated that cc3 will set up future acotar books. You know what acotar 5 is? A future acotar book since it isn’t out yet. From what I’ve seen, since I haven’t read cc3 yet, Azriel is a prominent figure besides nesta in cc3 when it comes to the acotar characters. If SJM herself is stating that cc3 sets up future acotar books, why wouldn’t we use cc3 of evidence for Azriel, especially since nesta’s story has already been told? So yes we can use that as evidence. We shouldn’t be talked down about and called delusional for it.

Yes CC is a separate series. But SJM recently stated that we should read acotar before reading CC now, at one point of time she said we didn’t have to. See how things have changed?

If she’s telling people to read acotar before cc, does it matter if she’s not telling people to read cc before acotar 5, when she’s already stated to read acotar before CC so no matter what readers are understanding what’s going on in both series no matter the order since acotar 5 isn’t out yet? She’s telling us to read both series regardless.

I get it, some people might not want to read the CC and they don’t have to, but I have seen people who said they aren’t going to read CC but are still asking for information about the acotar characters in it, and with people talking about it, they are going to find out about the information of acotar characters in CC anyway, whether they read the full book or not.

And I’m sick of e/riels claiming that since Azriel is being brought up a lot, it’s going to be Azriel and Elain’s next. To the point, when new fans are asking about who’s the next book, they’re “confirming” it’s Elain and Azriel’s. Which is ridiculous. Because when it comes to the two, Elain would be the one to strong hold the book, not Azriel. SJM hasn’t brought Elain to the forefront as she’s doing Azriel lately, if anything, it just shows to me how SJM isn’t going to have a book with BOTH Azriel and Elain together. Just not happening.

But I need people to stop being mad/upset at gwynriels because we’re pointing out things from textual evidence that the author has set up. We could be wrong, I agree, but stop making it like we have no standing, that were dumb & delusional.

#gwynriel #acosf #anti e/riel #pro gwyn berdara #pro gwynriel #pro gwyneth berdara #pro gwyn #azriel bonus chapter #azriel and gwyn #azriel shadowsinger #gwyn and azriel #acotar 5 #gwyneth berdara #pro azriel

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just-jordie-things · 1 year

Text

i've got my mind on you - gojo satoru

word count: 9.7k warnings: heavy drinking, swearing, mentions of a toxic relationship (not reader’s) summary: whoever said drinking to forget works is a goddamn liar a/n: I've just been listening to say yes to heaven by lana del rey a lot lately so the vibe is kinda there (but I wouldn’t say it’s a songfic per se)

___

“So what’s your plan? You’ve either got to slow it down, or come up with a plan”

A giggle, a hiccup, and then a goofy smile spread across (y/n’s) face, before she leaned over the bar and pulled the straw in her margarita towards her mouth.

“Well, hic-” She’s barely gotten any real sentences out in the last fifteen minutes, but Ieiri still tried to get through to her. “I’ll pro’lly jus’ stay a lil’ drunk forever- hic- so that I never get hungover”

Ieiri rolled her eyes with that tiny bit of affection that she feels sometimes.

And if she was going to feel affectionate towards anyone, it was going to be (y/n). She didn’t have many friends, but she knew they didn’t deserve it. (y/n) however… was going through a tough time.

“You know that’s not what I meant,” She sighed, twirling her own straw around the ice cubes left in her glass. “I meant what’s the plan with Satoru?”

For a moment, a three second moment, the hiccuping and dopey smiles halted, and (y/n) stared down at her half empty glass.

The whole point of coming out tonight was to forget. To forget him and his stupid face and his stupid voice and his whole stupid self that she was so damn in love with that it just about blinded her. She couldn’t think when she was around him, she couldn’t breathe when she was around him.

And she simply couldn’t have that.

“The plan’s right in front of ya” (y/n) replied, giggling again before taking a few more sips of her drink.

“Your plan is stupid, then,” Ieiri huffed, leaning her elbow on the bar, resting her chin in her palm. “So you’ll drink forever?”

“Mmmhmmm” (y/n) hummed through her straw.

“And what about work? You gonna drink there too?”

(y/n) hummed again, looking up at the ceiling as though she were actually pondering the idea.

“We teach kids, dumbass,” Ieiri rolled her eyes, this time with less affection. “Seriously. You have to have some sort of plan. Distance? Or maybe…”

(y/n’s) eyes shifted sideways, just barely glancing at her friend from the corner of her eye.

“Or maybe what?” She asked, quietly, her eyes returning to what was left of her drink.

She wasn’t sure how many of these overpriced mason jar-margaritas she’d had, but it still wasn’t enough to solve her issue.

Maybe two more? She wondered.

“You could always confess” Ieiri shrugged.

(y/n) swore she could fall off her stool right now. The whole room was spinning. Or was it just her?

Am I that drunk?

“You’re delusional” She snorted, shaking her head, before sliding off her seat, steadying herself with her hands on the bar.

“I’m delusional?” The brunette repeats, like it’s the most ridiculous thing she’s ever heard.

(And she’s put up with Satoru’s shit for a long, long time, so she was quite familiar with ridiculous)

“I’m going to the bathroom,” (y/n) sighed. “Order me another one of those, would ya?” She asks, gesturing to the empty mason jar on the counter.

Ieiri shakes her head.

“I’m sure they’re done serving you, ‘ya drunk” She says, punctuated with another eye roll.

(y/n) blows it off, trying her best to walk in a straight line towards the bathroom. She wobbles a bit, but at least makes it there.

It’s empty, to her delight because she’s been swallowing a hot lump in her throat for the last half hour and she just can’t keep it to herself anymore.

Closing herself in a stall, she fell to the toilet seat and dropped her head in her hands. Finally, a few tears could fall without the humiliation of being drunk and crying in public.

“Ya know, you’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever met?” He says with that grin on his face that should make her want to smack him, but instead she’s lost in it, mirroring it on her own face.

“And you know you’re the cheesiest person I’ve ever met?” She replies smoothly.

“You calling me a liar?” He asks, leaning in closer, narrowing the space between them even more than he already had when he’d approached her.

She was trying to finish up her paperwork, making copies for the Kyoto school in the small copy room they had. Of course he cornered her in here. Just to flirt with her and fill her with a useless hope.

And yet here she was, following that hope, like an idiot.

“A liar? Gojo, I would never,” She smirks, before turning around to pluck her copies off the tray. “See ya”

But she can feel him shadowing her as she struts out of the copy room and off to her small office.

“Why do I feel like you’re looking for something?” She muses, fighting the urge to glance over her shoulder at him.

“Can’t a guy just walk a girl back to her office?”

“And what’re you protecting me from?” (y/n) hums, her eyes catching a figure making his way in the opposite direction. “Nanami?”

“Please, leave me out of it” The blonde man mutters, picking up the pace to his office.

“Don’t worry Nanamin, I’ll fill you in later!” Gojo calls down the hallway, before skipping up to walk at (y/n’s) side. “Where to miss?” He asks, folding his hands behind his back as he stoops low to be at her ear level.

“My private space,” (y/n) replies. “Or did you intend something else?”

“Intend…? Oh, no sweetheart you’ve got me all wrong!”

She stops walking then, turning to him, her copies held to her chest and her brow raised curiously.

“Do I?” She asked, staring up at him intently.

He pauses for a moment, which interests her because it’s not often that the great Gojo Satoru freezes, and here he was frozen because of her. A smile blooms across her lips before she pats his arm and heads off to her office on her own.

“See ya, Satoru” She calls behind her.

She shouldn’t have felt so victorious walking away from him that day. Because at the end of the day, nothing changed. Whatever playful banter they had would remain just as it is. Nothing.

With tears streaming down her face, (y/n’s) hands shook as she typed the passcode into her phone. Her mind ran wild with scenario after scenario in which she found herself giving him another piece of her. Another flirty comment, lingering touch, a stare that lasted just a second too long. It was too much.

A tear hit her screen as she was scrolling through her contacts. With poor motor skills she pulled the sleeve of her dress over her palm to wipe away the moisture, frustrated when it only spread it over the screen.

When she was finally able to type on the screen, she was scrolling through phone numbers again. It took a minute before her shaky thumb selected- almost haphazardly- what she was searching for.

It only took one ring before he picked up.

“(y/n/n)?”

“Ya know you’re a real downer, right? Ya know that?”

A small chuckle came through, which for some reason only ignited her frustration in the moment. Of course Satoru would find this funny.

“And while on the subject of stupid things, what’s the point of using mason jars for margaritas? The- hic- ridges makes all the salt fall off and then it’s not even really a margarita at that point is it?” She rants. “Fuckin’ lame- hic- is the aesthetic really worth it to people?”

“The aesthetic is lame,” Satoru agreed with another chuckle. “Where are you, sweetheart? A bar somewhere?”

Now she knew she was wasted, as she could’ve easily mistaken his tone for concern.

“Yeah -hic- somewhere,” She slurred out. “You wanna know -hic- what else is stupid?”

“What’s that?”

(y/n) leaned back on the seat, the alcohol in her system sending her back into the upper holding tank of the toilet roughly. To her luck, she didn’t feel the pain of the rough smack of the ceramic into her back. However the quick movement did leave her feeling a little dizzy.

“Ah- fuck” She muttered.

“You okay?” Satoru’s voice came through the phone a bit muffled but the concern was still there.

“I’m fucking fantastic. I’m faaantastic y’know?”

“If you say so. What was the bar you went to again?”

“Dunno,” (y/n) sighed, tilting her head back. “Did you guess?”

“Guess what?”

(y/n) giggles.

“You,” She answered for him. “You’re the stupid one”

Satoru snorts before letting out a short laugh. It was hard to tell if he was annoyed or entertained, but she was too far gone to notice or care.

“I’m stupid?” He asks, a teasing lilt in his voice.

“Yeah, you’re a total fuckin’ idiot” (y/n) sighed.

“You’re starting to sound like Kento,” Gojo laughs. “I thought you went out with Ieiri”

“I did, she’s here. She’s just still at the bar”

“You’re not at the bar?”

“I’m hiding in the bathroom”

“Hiding? Why?”

“I dunno. I’m tired. I’m tired of this”

It’s quiet on the line for a moment, leaving (y/n) to stare at the concerning green stain on the ceiling tile, her mind drifting off as she wondered what could have caused it, or how long it had been there.

“What’s goin’ on sweetheart?”

Why did he insist on calling her that? And why was it impossible to set fire to the butterflies in her stomach when he did?

“(y/n/n)? Ya still with me?”

“Yeah. I’m here” She mumbled back, closing her eyes before the ceiling stain could make her nauseous.

“Look, I’m on my way. Would you go wait with Ieiri? And drink some water?”

(y/n) sighs, before forcing herself to stand, only having to place her hand on the stall for a few seconds to keep herself upright.

“Alright,” She mumbles again. “Fine”

“Drink some water. See you s-”

She lowers her phone from her ear and presses the bright red END CALL before he could finish. The alcohol was getting on top of her, and she was getting too tired to continue dancing this dance.

Stumbling out of the bathroom, she finds Shoko standing there next to the door, a water bottle in hand and a gentle smile on her face.

“You alright?” She asked, uncapping the bottle and handing it over to her.

“No,” (y/n) replied. “Let’s just go”

Ieiri nods.

(y/n) can’t help but wonder where she’d gone so wrong. Was it the first time they met? If only she’d ignored him, rolled her eyes at his flirtatious nature and walked away. Maybe then she wouldn’t be stuck wallowing in self pity. Fuck, was this ridiculous.

“Oh! And don’t kick yourself over Nanami not liking you. He’s a nice guy. Just a guy of few words, that’s all” Ijichi added a tiny piece of advice into his tour. (y/n) chuckled.

“Good to know”

“And Ieiri is very nice, she’s a good friend” He adds, but this time there’s a slight pink on his face. (y/n) laughs again.

“She pretty too?” She asks with a face splitting grin.

Ijichi puts his head down, pushing his glasses up his nose and hoping the heat in his face would go away quickly.

And as (y/n’s) laughing to herself, tucking her hands into the pockets of the slacks, she catches sight of an odd, but indistinguishable character.

He’s walking in the opposite direction, with a phone to his ear, and he seems mildly annoyed from the way he shakes his head and waves his free hand around. That’s the first thing she noticed.

The second thing she noticed was the sunglasses he wore, which was strange because they were inside, but she had to admit they were alluring, in that mysterious way.

She finds herself watching him as he walks closer towards them. And she thinks that he sees her too, although it’s hard to tell with the dark lenses perched on his nose.

His hair was a shocking white, only adding to his allure. (y/n) couldn’t tear her eyes off him if she’d wanted to.

And when he finally passed, all she could do was wonder to herself who he was.

She looks back a moment later, only to find him stopped in his tracks, phone still held up to his ear, but he was clearly staring at her now. Her brows knot in confusion, watching him as still as she follows Ijichi down the hall.

Then he grins. A wide, almost shit eating grin.

And despite herself, (y/n’s) face feels warm, and she can feel her lips tugging into a smile before she can even figure out why it is that she’s smiling back at him.

Turning back to Ijichi with eyes rounded from curiosity and a bit of excitement, she beamed.

“Who was that?”

“Maybe I should just get a dating app and settle down with the first eligible man I meet,”

Ieiri snorted in response, glancing up from her phone to give her friend a questioning look.

(y/n) slumped against the brick wall they had been standing at for a while. It had been mostly silent while she was slowly drinking her water, and Ieiri smoked a cigarette. Until now.

“I mean, there’s a ton of guys on there, right? So shouldn’t there at least be… like… a couple of hot ones?”

“I don’t know,” Ieiri sighs, crossing one arm over her chest while the other waves her cigarette around as she speaks. “You don’t seem like the dating app type”

(y/n’s) brow furrows.

“Well, then what type do I seem?”

Shoko smirks, nodding her head off to the street.

(y/n) squints at her, before following her line of sight. There she found a familiar black car pulling up to the curb.

Ieiri grins, expecting an elated reaction from her friend. Instead (y/n) rolls her eyes.

“You gotta be fucking kidding me”

Gojo gets out of the driver’s seat, and jogs his way over to the wall. With that stupid grin and those stupid sunglasses, (y/n) just wanted to tell him to get out of here.

“What’re you doing here?”

The white haired man laughs, tucking his hands in his pockets as he approaches the pair.

“I thought you’d be happy to see me?” He asks.

Her brows are furrowed and the annoyed look she’s trying to give him comes off as a pout, so of course he’s laughing. His laughter pisses her off more.

She wants to tell him to get lost. She wants to shove him by the shoulders until he gets back in that car and drives away so that she wouldn’t have to look at his stupid face anymore.

Stupid.

“She’s had a bit too much,” Ieiri breaks the silence. “And she’s barely drinking her water”

Tattletale.

“I never knew you were such a party animal, (y/n/n),” Gojo teases. He’s still smirking. “Well let’s get ya home, hm?”

She doesn’t answer him. He’s not sure if he’s been given the silent treatment, or if she was finally over the peak of her drunkenness- and now came the downfall of heavy drinking. Either way, he’s slightly amused, as he’s never seen her in such a state.

There was the occasional work gathering, but they were few and far between, and at most they involved a beer or two. Seeing (y/n) obliterated was a sight for sure.

(y/n) turns to Ieiri, her lips in a frown.

“Go on,” Her friend prompts in an uncharacteristically sweet tone of voice. “You’re the one that called”

Stupid! (y/n) mentally face palms. The conversation she’d had in the bathroom came back to her in hazy images.

“Fine,” She finally speaks, swiveling on her heel to face Gojo again.

He had jumped for a second upon her quick motion, because surely she was going to trip over the skinny heel on her foot, but she had faced him with surprising balance, not even a sliver of wavering in her body.

“Then let’s go”

He nods, moving to open the passenger side door without a word. For a moment there, he thought he might have to throw her over his shoulder to get her to leave. So this was a pleasant change in plan for him.

“Goodnight,” Ieiri calls with a wave. “I’ll call you in the morning!”

(y/n) weakly returns the gesture, before Gojo shuts the car door. He turns for a moment, just to give Ieiri a look. Even behind his sunglasses, she knows the face he’s making. She grins, before putting her cigarette out on the brick behind her, and heading off in the direction of her own car.

When Satoru gets into the car, (y/n’s) leaning against the cool glass of the window, with both of her hands wrapped around the seatbelt over her chest.

“You feeling alright?” He asks.

No response.

“If you’re sick, we can wait,” He suggests. “I don’t want the drive to upset your-”

“I’m not sick”

Her words are small, and a little slurred, but he understood her nonetheless.

He nods, and puts the key into the ignition.

(y/n’s) eyes keep watch of the dark sidewalks they pass as he drives. There’s few people out this late at night- she briefly wonders what time it even is- and the city seems so peculiar when it’s this quiet. It almost makes her antsy, like the next corner they turn they’ll run into some sort of conflict.

But when he makes that left and it’s just another empty street, a calmness spreads over her insides. She sinks down into her seat a little.

Gojo sees this, having kept an eye on her for the last few minutes they’d been in silence. He waits for a minute, before he breaks that silence.

“Did I do something to upset you?”

She looks over at him, quiet for a few moments more as she tries to untangle her thoughts.

“Do you think you did?” She replies, thinking that’s the smoothest response she could have given him.

“No, I don’t,” He answers her straight away. She frowns, because it’s the wrong answer and they both know it, but that doesn’t make it any less truthful. “But then you called me, which you don’t do, and you called me names, which you sort of do, but you sounded really upset”

“Yeah” She sighs, before shrugging her shoulders.

Satoru waits for her to continue, his head constantly turning from the road to her, but she just sits there, clearly content with herself.

“Yeah?” He repeats, and he wants to scoff at her. He wants to shake his head and call her childish and inconsiderate to his feelings because clearly she had troubled him. She’d made him think something bad had happened, or he had hurt her somehow, he wasn’t sure what but she was the one that made him worry. And now she wanted to sit there and shrug her shoulders and stare blankly at him like she couldn’t see the concern pouring out of him.

“Yeah,” (y/n) says again, but this time her voice was dripping with malice. “I was upset”

His knuckles are white as they tighten around his steering wheel. Sober (y/n) would have noticed, and probably called him on it. Drunk (y/n) just glares him down.

“Okay, well, maybe you’d like to enlighten me then?” Satoru asks. His throat is tight as he desperately works to maintain an even voice.

He can’t remember a time he’s ever been this upset with her. He can’t remember a time he’s even been mildly annoyed with her. But now here she is instigating and acting like-

No.

He looks over at her again, and although she looks like she could spit on him if he doesn’t choose his words carefully, his expression softens. And soon after so does his grip.

He lets out a breath.

“Look, you worried me, okay?” He admits, keeping his eyes on the road.

When he looks straight ahead, she can almost see his eyes. Something in her chest melts just a little bit.

“You never call”

“I don’t like phone calls” She mumbles in response.

“I know”

For a second, in her staggered breathing and slow blinks, she’s brought back to reality. And the reality was Gojo Satoru knew her. He’s known her for a while, and he knows her well. And he’s here now.

She forces herself to look away, to go back to the window and try not to think about Gojo Satoru and whatever feelings led him to being here right now, driving her home.

And then it dawns on her.

“I can’t go back to my place”

“What?”

His neck was going to strain with how frantically he was looking from her to the road.

“I can’t go back to my place” (y/n) repeats.

“Yeah I got that part,” He clenches his jaw, and he’s racking his brain to remember some old breathing exercise Ieiri had told him about a long time ago. His mind comes up empty. “Why?”

“My roommate broke up with her boyfriend” (y/n) sighs, before leaning over in her seat, beginning to unbuckle the uncomfortable straps around her ankles.

“Okay?” Gojo’s shaking his head, desperate for context, but clearly (y/n) was more invested in pulling the heels off her feet.

“Oh, he lost his mind and trashed our apartment”

“What?”

“Yeah, broke all our glass dishes, ripped frames off the walls, it was insane”

“Did you call the police?”

“I was out, but my roommate did. It’s fine, but my room is a mess still. She’s been staying with her family for support”

“Jesus Christ”

“Yeah,” (y/n) sighed, leaning her head back against the seat. “But she’ll be okay, I’ve got eyes on him,”

He glances over at her, just long enough to see a small smirk playing on the corner of her lips.

Right. Her cursed technique.

“As soon as he has the intention of coming to that building again, he’s going to feel a very sharp pain on the left half of his body,” She hums, and then rolls her head to the side to look over at him. “And that will be his spleen catching on fire”

Gojo lets out a low whistle.

“You’re gonna piss off the elders when he’s a medical mystery”

“Like you��ve ever given a shit what the elders think” (y/n) mutters.

He smiles to himself and doesn’t say anything more on the matter.

“Guess you’ll have to stay somewhere else then” He says instead.

“I’ve got a couch in my office that’s comfortable enough,” (y/n) shrugs. “You can just drop me off back at the school”

“That’s ridiculous. We’re not doing that”

(y/n) doesn’t say anything. Her fingers curl around the heels of her shoes that she’s holding in her lap.

She turns her gaze back to the window, and keeps to herself the rest of the ride. ___

Rushing yourself when you’re already incredibly panicked was always the wrong way to go. (y/n) knew that. But slowing herself down would only make her more late.

Yet there she was, balancing her cup of coffee atop enough stacks of file folders to fill a whole cabinet, and running through the hallways at full speed. Luckily years of rigorous training and acrobatics meant that her balance was impeccable.

Until a door opened right in her path, too close for her to stop herself in her tracks.

With a squeal her files were thrown up in the air as she threw her body to the side before she could run straight into it.

And like magic she caught all of her files, in perfect condition, not a single paper out of place.

“Ha! Yes!” She cheered to herself.

And just as quickly as she’d rejoiced, her shoulders slumped as she realized there was just one thing missing.

“Oh, no, my-”

“I think you dropped this”

She spun around upon hearing the voice of a stranger, and sure enough, there he was holding her paper cup, which was also perfectly intact.

But this wasn’t just any stranger. This was the stranger that she saw yesterday on the phone. With the strange white hair and strange sunglasses even though they were inside.

“Wow, thanks,” She breathed out, a bit embarrassed to have acted so crazy in front of him. “Sorry for throwing it” She adds sheepishly.

“Nah, don’t be,” He replied with a nonchalant shrug. “You must be (y/l/n)”

Something about him already knowing who she was only made her face feel hotter with embarrassment.

“Uh- yeah, just (y/n) though”

“Just (y/n),” The white haired man repeats with a click of his tongue. “Gojo Satoru, most powerful man in the world, teacher, and now escort-e of women in need” He introduces.

Well, he’s clearly confident.

(y/n) chuckles.

“Well thank you, Gojo Satoru, but I’m sure there are women elsewhere in need of your services”

He seems thrown off guard as she plucks the coffee from his hands and places it back on her stack of folders. With that she grins and heads back in the direction of her new office.

“You sure you don’t need help?” Gojo calls.

“Nope!” She hollers over her shoulder. “But thank you! See you around!”

And just like that she was running off again, having not learned a single lesson. But at least the mysterious and cute stranger she’d seen wasn’t a stranger anymore. ___

For some reason, she didn’t think to ask any questions when the car was parked. She grabbed her shoes and unbuckled her seatbelt, just as Gojo had rounded the car to get the door for her.

It wasn’t until he was guiding her inside that she thought twice about their whereabouts at all.

This must’ve been his place.

Her suspicions were confirmed when he pulled out a set of keys and unlocked the door. She turned to him with wide eyes, a protest on the tip of her tongue.

But his head jerked in motion for her to go inside, and she couldn’t come up with a good enough reason not to, and so she found herself waltzing in as though she’d been there hundreds of times before.

Which in fact wasn’t close to true. She’d never been to his place before- neither one of them had ever been to each other’s places. And now she’s standing in the entryway looking into the living room and she’s… nervous.

“Bathroom’s down the hall to the left,” Satoru speaks, gesturing lamely in the direction he’d given her. “I don’t have any makeup wipes but uh there’s tissues?”

(y/n) stares at him for a moment, unsure what to do with this information.

“Is that bad?” Gojo asks, mistaking her confusion for judgment. “I could go buy some makeup wipes-?”

“No, no,” (y/n) shakes her head, turning to head off. “Tissues are, um, fine”

“Okay, great,” Gojo nodded. “I’m gonna try and find something for you to sleep in, since, yaknow, obviously..”

She couldn’t see his eyes behind the dark sunglasses, but she knew they were tracing the little mount of fabric of the dress that clung to her figure. Normally she’d find her hands tugging at the hem, pretending that would lengthen it. But instead of hiding in embarrassment, (y/n) glanced down at herself, admiring the pretty dress she’d chosen for her night out. Black did always suit her.

“I don’t really care what I wear to sleep in,” She says. And then maybe the alcohol gets on top of her a little bit before she continues with, “I don’t normally wear anything”

“Go,” Gojo points towards the bathroom, forcing himself to turn and walk away. “And help yourself to a glass of water while you’re at it”

With that she finally walked away, her feet sore from the heels she’d been wearing all night, and her steps were a bit staggered, but she made it to the bathroom just fine.

Once she was out of sight Satoru let out a sigh, pushing his sunglasses to the top of his head so that he could rub his eyes.

She clearly loved to torture him, by whatever means necessary. And drunk (y/n) was rather cruel.

He’d yet to figure out what it was that had ruined her night, but he’d hoped that the playful change in attitude meant she was lightening up.

(Hoping she’d sober up didn’t seem probable, not until she passed out at least).

When he had texted Ieiri to try and figure out what (y/n’s) phone call was all about, she hadn’t given him any real answers. Just to ‘be a grown man and figure it out himself’. He’d tried asking her what the hell that meant but she set her phone to do not disturb pretty much after his first of many texts.

It wasn’t all that out of character for Ieiri to ignore him when he annoyed her too much. (y/n) was the one acting out of character tonight.

Had she been upset with him for a while, and tonight was her breaking point? Maybe the alcohol got on top of her and she couldn’t contain her hatred for him anymore?

Satoru opened his dresser drawer a little more aggressively than he needed to, nearly pulling the whole thing clean out. He sighed before carefully latching it back into place.

He just wanted to find what it was that he’d done so wrong. He was racking his brain of her behavior the last few weeks, trying to think of any little hint she could have given him that she wasn’t happy. There was nothing that came to mind, she’d seemed her usual, happy, playful self. Their friendship may have been based in nonsensical flirting, but it was a solid friendship. She knew that he was there for her, right?

Staring down at the plain tee shirt and sweatpants that he’d grabbed for her, he wondered if that was the problem. Maybe she was getting tired of his behavior.

The sinking feeling in his gut as soon as the thought crossed his mind told him that must’ve been it.

He hadn’t done anything, and that was just the problem, he hadn’t changed. He hadn’t gotten better, which he should have, for her.

And he should have known this all along, because the minute he’d laid eyes on her he’d had a gut feeling about her. He confirmed that feeling when they’d met, and every day since he’s found some excuse to be close to her, even if it meant bothering her, at least he’d get a smile with every annoyed eye roll she’d give him.

He held tightly onto the fabric in his hands.

He hadn’t been enough for her.

Something in him must have snapped, because with that thought he was heading right back out of his room.

And there was (y/n) standing in his living room, her back to him as she admired the only photo he had on the mantle. It was an old picture of him and Ieiri, back when they were in school. The picture was clearly folded, hiding someone behind itself. It looked awkward in the frame, and he’d known for a while that he should just put a new picture in it, but he hadn’t brought himself to do so.

“I got you some clothes,” Satoru spoke, and (y/n) jumped a bit as she spun around. “Sorry” He apologized on instinct.

“No, no I’m just surprised I didn’t hear you” She shook her head, before making her way over to him, taking the clothes from his hands.

She’d meant to take the offering and then leave, but something kept her there. Maybe it was nerves, or maybe it was the fact that he’d left his sunglasses in his messy hair and she was able to look straight into his eyes, which was something that didn’t come around that often.

She thought maybe he’d say something, seeing as the longer the silence continued while they just stood there, the more awkward it became. But he didn’t. He just stared at her. And he was the worst person to try to read, because he would never tell anyone what he was thinking, so there was never a chance in guessing.

With her teeth sawing into her cheek, (y/n) turns to make her way back to the bathroom to change.

Satoru waits in the living room, hands on his hips, in dead silence.

It remains silent when (y/n) returns from the bathroom, in a tee shirt that hangs on her like a dress and sweatpants that pool at her feet. She looks like a toddler that had gotten into her parents’ closet.

Satoru can’t help but chuckle.

“Yeah, yeah. Go ahead, make your jokes” (y/n) mutters, putting her hands up in mock surrender.

“What’s there to joke about?” He grins. “It’s about time I got you in my clothes”

She raised a brow, crossing her arms over her chest.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

His grin falters, only for a moment, but long enough for her to catch it. He just as quickly shakes his head, before pushing his sunglasses back down onto his nose.

“It means get to bed. I’ll get you a glass of water, but you’ve got to drink all of it before you go to sleep, alright?”

(y/n) blinks.

“I’ll just stay here,” She says, elbow jutting towards the couch. “Looks much nicer than the one in my office,” She adds, before taking account of the intricate details on the fine leather armrests. “Probably costs more than the entire office actually” She mumbles.

“No, no, you’re staying in the bed,”

(y/n’s) not sure she’s ever heard him sound so firm. She begins to think that she’ll just have to give in to the offer.

“Come on”

He beckons her to follow him, and without being told, her feet follow. She finds herself walking on the tips of her toes, trying to remain as quiet as possible.

When they reach his doorway, she waits there, while he wanders in and pulls back the covers to his bed.

Even I have to admit that’s the most enticing bed I’ve ever seen in my life, she thinks, eyeing the plush comforter that covers the king-sized mattress. Before he had pulled it open for her, it looked completely untouched.

“You don’t sleep here much, do you?” She asks as the thought crosses her mind.

She takes a few timid steps into the bedroom.

A small scoff escapes him before he turns back to her.

“Don’t sleep much at all”

She holds his gaze for a moment longer than she maybe should have, but she wasn’t expecting such a genuine, no, vulnerable, response. It wasn’t often Satoru voiced how he really felt, but it seemed tonight he couldn’t help himself.

“Yeah,” (y/n) glances down at the floor, toes curling into the soft carpet. “Me either”

With haste Gojo excuses himself from the room, muttering something about a glass of water. (y/n) watches him go, feeling her shoulders slump.

Being left alone in his room makes a chill run down her spine. It doesn’t quite feel right, like maybe she should stand in place, and not look at, and dare not touch anything.

Then there’s a part of her that presents itself, which begs her to act on her curiosities.

Luckily, the alcohol in her system was happy to be a little more impulsive than normal.

She wanders to his dresser first, eyeing the few things he had on top of it. Her fingers slide across the smooth oak as she studies a framed photo. It was a graduating class photo. A small smile graced her lips at the sight of a familiar pair of sunglasses. A young Shoko was also an amusing sight.

The sound of footsteps brought her back from her thoughts, and she quickly took a seat at the end of the bed.

Satoru strode in, glass of water in hand.

“Please try to drink all of this, okay?”

(y/n) simply nods, taking the glass, but she just stares down into it. Gojo’s brows furrow.

“What, you need a lemon in it or something?”

“No,” She mumbles, before looking back at him. “Satoru, I need to ask you something”

“No one ever likes hearing that, (y/n)” He chuckles. But when he sticks his hands into his pockets, she takes it as her cue to go on.

“Why did you come?”

“To pick you up?” He asks.

He knows full well what she meant.

She nods her head in a small motion.

“I told you I was worried,” He answers. “You should’ve heard yourself on the phone. Pretty concerning stuff, (y/n/n). Who knew you couldn’t hold your liquor”

Now (y/n) shakes her head.

“But why?”

Gojo shrugs, confused. His lips purse and he doesn’t know what she expects him to say.

“Why?” He repeats, eyebrows forming a knot. “Why was I worried?”

“Yeah,” (y/n’s) voice is as small as that of a child who’d just awoken from a nightmare. “I mean, I was with Ieiri,” She adds. “I would’ve been fine, it’s not like I was in any trouble”

“Well, it didn’t sound like it,” He sighs, and crouches down in front of her, so he could be at eye level with her as he spoke. “After you called and then hung up on me, I reached out to her to try to figure out where you were and what was going on”

“You did?”

He nods, and hesitates a moment, before ultimately saying fuck it and continuing.

“Truth be told, she wasn’t much help either. I think my two best girls had it out for me a little tonight, hm?”

His hand reaches out, taking a loose strand of her hair and carefully placing it behind her ear. (y/n) hopes she’s not blushing, but she knows it’s a lost cause. Satoru’s fingers linger near her jaw for a moment before he drops his hand.

“Is that why you were upset earlier?” He asks. “You wanted to go with Ieiri? You were upset with me for coming?”

She stares into the dark glass that covers his eyes, getting lost in her own reflection as her drunken thoughts swirl around in her mind in a tornado of infatuation and fear. She’s scared that if she opens her mouth too hastily, the wrong thing will come spilling out, and she’ll scare him off like a wild animal that didn’t know any better than to run.

And while it was difficult to navigate her thoughts at the moment, she knew that scaring him off was the last thing that she would ever want.

She reaches out to him this time. She’s unsure if she’d be able to touch him, unsure if he would have put his infinity up as soon as he’d pulled his hand away from her just moments ago.

But to her surprise, she’s able to carefully take holds of his sunglasses. She pauses, as if in shock, or maybe it was just her nerves, before she slowly begins to slide them off his face. She was certain he would have told her to stop, or swat her hands away. But again, tonight he was full of surprises, as he just sat there, and let her take them off.

As she folds them up and sets them on the mattress beside her, she’s careful not to dirty the lenses.

She gives herself just a few seconds to admire his eyes, before she finally answers him.

“No,”

Her voice is barely a whisper. Satoru’s lucky he’s close enough to hear her.

“I was upset because…” (y/n’s) confidence was dwindling with every second that passed with his eyes on her like this.

It was like she could see every bit of concern, and confusion, swirling within the pools of his irises. It made her heart beat erratically in her chest. It made her fingers curl into the edge of the mattress, gripping tightly to it like it were a lifeline. It made her breaths short and every second longer than the last.

She was so hopelessly in love with him that sometimes it felt like she couldn’t even function.

“I’m drunk,” She sighs.

Gojo nods, dropping his gaze for a moment, defeated, certain that she was going to say forget it and bid him goodnight. His eyes land on her hands, gripped around the edge of his mattress like a vice. Her knuckles were white, and he thought she might even be trembling a bit. He makes a mental note to grab her an extra blanket.

“And I hate everything,” She continues, instantly bringing his attention back to her. Her eyes flicker between his, and her lips hesitate to say what she’s been dying to get off her chest for quite some time. With a shaky breath, she mentally counts to three, and then whispers, “Everything except for you”

He’s frozen for a moment, staring at her with eyes so ablaze she could almost forget they were blue. The corner of his lips tug ever so slightly upwards, and a sense of relief relaxes his tense muscles.

“I think that might be the most romantic thing you’ve ever said to me, sweetheart,” He says.

His words are teasing, but his tone is as genuine as his smile.

He stands.

“Would you like me to tuck you in?” He asked, lifting the blanket next to her.

“Stay” She says, taking the blanket from him and pulling it back further, before sliding into the open space.

“What?” He asked, having heard her clearly.

“Stay,” (y/n) says again. “With me”

He starts to shake his head, because it doesn’t exactly feel right. She was drunk, she might not know what she’s saying, right?

But she pats the space next to her and gives him a small smile, and he thinks that she knows she’s making his heart melt.

“(y/n)-”

“Please?” She asks softly. “Just till I fall asleep?”

He lets out a sigh, before nodding his head faintly.

(y/n) grins, and he quickly shoves her abandoned glass of water in her face.

“Take a few big drinks of this first,” He demands, which she quickly obliges to. He almost laughs at how quickly she chugs half the glass down. “Alright, alright, don’t choke” He chuckles, taking the cup back and setting it on his nightstand.

(y/n) shuffled under the covers before laying down. She couldn’t contain the moan that came out upon laying her head on the most feathery pillow she’s ever felt.

Gojo looked over at her, with a brow raised and a wide smirk.

“This is the most comfortable pillow ever,” She breathed out. “What is this, feathers?”

“I have no idea,” Satoru chuckles with amusement before sitting down on the bed. “I’m glad you like it”

While he settles under the blanket, and tries his best to pretend like this was normal and they’d done this a thousand times before, (y/n) rolls onto her stomach to press her face into the feathery goodness. She inhales deeply, taking in the clean smell of freshly washed sheets that always scratched the right itch in her mind.

Satoru admires her while she’s not paying attention to him. Every one of his self-preserving instincts are telling him he needs to go- that she should be alone for the night and staying here with her couldn’t possibly be good. It would make him look vulnerable if he stayed.

But then (y/n) rolls onto her back, her eyes catching his in the process, and he lays down, resting his head on his pillow.

It is pretty comfy.

“Okay if I turn the lights off now?” He asked.

(y/n) hums an affirmative tune, and Gojo doesn't even have to sit up to reach the lamp on the bedside table, tugging the little string and submerging them in darkness.

It’s silent for a moment, and he assumes that she also thinks that the dark added another layer of intimacy that neither one of them planned on for the evening.

After a minute or so, (y/n) shuffles around under tha blankets, rolling onto her side and facing him. He turns his head to find her looking at him. Even in the dark he can faintly make out the soft features of her face.

“Thank you, Satoru,” She says softly. “I… I hate sleeping alone”

He nods back at her, before mirroring her position. He hooks an arm under his pillow to get more comfortable before speaking.

“Anytime” He hums.

“That so?” She responds, raising an eyebrow curiously.

“Yeah,” He shrugs a shoulder. “Might take a while to get your apartment fixed up. If you need somewhere to crash for a while… you could stay here a bit longer”

(y/n’s) heart does a little backflip in her chest, or at least it feels like it. She added ‘hospitality’ to her mental checklist of things that made him more attractive to her.

“Yeah, well, I dunno. Appreciate it though,” She mumbles. Her finger absentmindedly drew patterns on the sheets. “I’ve kinda been a shitty guest so far, huh?”

“You?” He muses, and then shakes his head. “You could never”

(y/n) lets out a humorless laugh.

“This isn’t exactly what I had in mind for seeing your place for the first time” She says, and she regrets it almost as soon as it leaves her mouth.

“Oh?” Satoru chimes. “And what did you have in mind sweetheart? Less clothes perhaps? Hm, or perhaps more rose petals, a bit of wine-?”

“Yeah yeah laugh it up Satoru,” (y/n) rolls her eyes. “That’s not what I meant”

“You maybe meant it a little like that though” He teases.

(y/n) shakes her head, looking up at the ceiling as if it were going to tell her how to handle this idiotically charming man.

“I would’ve liked it to be on better terms” She admits.

Satoru turns off the act, but his smile remains as he continues to pry her into opening up more.

“Well, what did you have in mind, then?” He asks.

“I don’t know,” (y/n) shrugs. “Realistically it probably would’ve been you begging me to come help you with the paperwork you procrastinate so much on,” She muses, her imagination beginning to roll it’s film. “But… a movie might have been nice. Or drinks, or something”

Her thoughts get away from her for a bit as she imagines Satoru inviting her to his place, how he would have answered the door and ushered her in, taking her coat, showing her around his place. He’d probably be over the top with his enthusiasm, but she would have found it charming like she always does.

“Sounds like a date” He hums.

Slowly, her gaze wanders from the ceiling to where he’s laying, still on his side, still studying her as though he were trying to complete a puzzle in the dark.

She laughs softly to herself.

He thinks it’s the cutest thing he’s ever heard.

“I don’t think you’re capable of such a thing,” She murmurs. “That’s why I’m here now, like this” Her hand gestures vaguely in the air.

“Like this?” He repeats, hoping for clarity once again.

(y/n) hesitates, anxiety attacking her mind and her fondness-warmed heart.

“Don’t you think if we were to do such a ludicrous thing as a date, we would have done it by now?” She asks him. “I don’t think that the Gojo Satoru can be tamed by just any one woman, after all” She adds with another short laugh, hoping to lighten the mood and clear her own anxieties.

He laughs with her, and she’s relieved that she didn’t upset him, but she can’t deny that her heart sinks a little in her chest.

His tongue darts out to wet his suddenly dry lips before he ignores his need to keep up a barrier with everyone he knows, and shuffles a little bit more towards her. Her eyes noticeably widen as he does this, which he enjoys more than he should have.

“You’re not just any woman, sweetheart,” He murmurs.

He’s close enough to her now that she can faintly feel his warm breath against her nose and lips. Her heart can barely keep up with the gymnastics it was doing.

“But you’re right, I suppose, I don’t think I can be tamed either. But I’d happily let you prove me wrong, any day. Or, well, night”

It must be the alcohol, but she swore her entire body felt like someone had poured gasoline over her and dropped a match.

“You can’t do that” Her lips trembled.

“Can’t do what?”

“You can’t-” She takes in a short breath of air she didn’t realize she needed. “You can’t just say things like that”

He chuckles, humored greatly by her nervous display.

“Why’s that?” He asks, his smirk only widening as he catches her gaze darting down towards his mouth, before meeting his eyes again.

A knot forms between (y/n’s) brows.

“Because tomorrow I’m going to wake up and you won’t be here, and tomorrow I’ll go home like none of this ever happened. As if the whole point of going out tonight wasn’t to forget you, only for you to show up anyways and remind me of all the reasons why I should be forgetting you in the first place. And then we’ll go back to work and you’ll continue to mess with me by flirting with me and I don’t know what to do anymore because- because it’s not funny anymore Satoru I’m actually-”

She stops herself before she could admit she actually was in love with him. But it didn’t matter anyhow, because she’d already admitted enough to make him question her.

“You went out drinking to forget me?” He asks.

“No” She lies.

“That’s what you just said”

“No I didn’t”

“Yes… you did. You said the whole point of going out tonight was to forget me,”

(y/n) doesn’t say anything. It’s not like denying it was working, he’d obviously heard her, and even if she was a good liar, he was an even better lie detector.

“You got drunk to forget that you… you have feelings for me? Romantic feelings? You feel romantically about me?”

She stays silent. It seems like the safest option at the moment. She’d ruled out lying, and running away wasn’t exactly an option either. Maybe she could pretend to fall asleep?

“(y/n),” His hand reaches out, resting on top of hers, halting her erratic doodling on the sheets. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“What was I supposed to say?” She whispers, a small, sad smile on her face. “That I fell for the whole stupid act and couldn’t get over it?”

Gojo shakes his head.

“Sweetheart, what act?” He asks. “I’ve been flirting with you since- well, since we met, I’m pretty sure down to the day. It wasn’t some act, sweetheart. Every compliment or innuendo or invitation, all of it, I meant all of it,”

(y/n) blinks, her lips parted as she tried to process what he was saying. Her mind wasn’t as fuzzy as it was an hour and a half ago, but with all of the new information, she was having trouble processing all of it.

“You think I never meant it when I told you how beautiful you are? Or perfect? Or brilliant? Or strong? You thought I was just messing with you?”

“Satoru…” (y/n) shakes her head, the gears in her mind all jammed up by his words.

“Sweetheart, tell me, why in the world do you think I would drop everything in a heartbeat to come pick your drunk mopey ass from the shittiest bar in town? And do you really think I’m so terrible at getting my paperwork done that I need your help and only your help with it every week?” He chuckles to himself. “Sweetheart, have a little more faith in me”

Her throat burns hot, and she realizes then that she’s been fighting the urge to let her eyes water.

“What are you-” Her words are almost whimpered, and she pauses to catch her breath before speaking again. “What are you saying then, you’ve h-had feelings for me this whole time?”

His lips curl into a smile, and he takes his hand off of hers, so that he can reach closer, and lay his palm against her jaw, fingers brushing gently against her cheekbone.

“Yeah, that’s exactly what I’m saying,” He murmurs, his eyes following his index finger as he draws small shapes into her skin. “So… do you still want to forget about me?”

Her quivering lips curl into a smile, and a tear slips from her eye.

“It didn’t work anyways,” She says in a hushed whisper. “I ended up calling you anyways, didn’t I?” She reminds him. Her tear slides against his thumb, and he hurriedly brushes it away. “I fear forgetting you isn’t going to work”

“Good,” He says, grinning ear to ear. “So that means I can invite you to my place for drinks? Or to do my paperwork for me?”

“A date?” She hums.

He nods his head.

“Okay”

“Okay?”

“Okay,” She says again, smiling so wide it hurts. “Yeah, okay, I’ll do that”

He’s smiling back at her, his thumb stroking gently back and forth against her cheek. Her poor heart was about to combust.

She leans in closer to him, her nose brushing into his, prodding softly as she closes her eyes, letting all of her other senses take him in. The warmth that bled from his hand against her jaw. The way he smells like pine, and fruit.

Just as she’s about to close the distance, he beats her to it.

His lips slide over hers with ease, as though he’s kissed her infinite times before now.

She melts almost instantly, kissing him back as softly as she could, trying to contain the overwhelming sense of urgency inside of her.

Satoru drops his hand from her cheek, and it briefly rests on her shoulder before sliding to her hip, so that he can pull her in closer to him.

Her lips, her body, they feel pleasantly warm against him in a way he’d never felt before.

When she parts from him, her forehead resting against his as she tries to quietly catch her breath. A small chuckle escapes him as he brings his hand back to her face, cupping her cheek and leaning back just enough that he can get a proper look at her.

“Sweetheart,” He hums. “You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to do that”

Her smile tells him she knows just how long it was.

He steals another kiss from her, and he tries to be quick, but he just can’t help but hold his breath a little longer, for just a few seconds more of her soft lips against his.

“Satoru,” She murmurs against his lips when they part again. “I’m in love with you”

“I’m in love with you too, sweetheart,” He replies, punctuated with another kiss. “Stay the week with me” He requests, before kissing her again.

“The whole week?” She hums in between another.

“Mhm” Is all he’s able to respond with, his mouth far too occupied to carry a conversation. (y/n) giggles until he leans back.

“And you don’t think people will notice when I show up to work with you at the same time every day?” She muses.

“Let them notice” He sighs, prodding his nose against hers as his lips search for hers once more.

“And our students?”

This time she steals a small kiss.

“You don’t think they’ll be happy for me?” He murmurs, and she giggles again.

“I think your students might tease you a bit” She suggests.

Gojo shakes his head, grinning at her.

“They’re just jealous,” He affirms. “Because I’ve got the prettiest, dopest girl in the whole school”

She laughs louder, bursts of bubbling giggles filling the room as she shakes her head at his ridiculousness. But as silly as it was, her cheeks were warm with a flattered blush.

“We can talk about you staying tomorrow,” Satoru tells her, tucking her hair behind her ear. “Why don’t you get some rest tonight, and I’ll make you a nice breakfast to cure your hangover tomorrow, and we’ll talk about it then, hm?”

She sits there for a minute, smiling at him, at his sweet smile and pretty eyes. Her heart has never felt more full than it was right now, and she thinks maybe this is the first time she’s ever truly loved someone. She could sit here for hours and stare at him. Unbeknownst to her, he was thinking the same thing.

“Sounds like a plan” She murmurs.

“Alright then,” Satoru has to bite on his cheek to keep himself from grinning like a madman. “Get some beauty sleep. I’ll be here when you wake up”

He rolls onto his back, sliding his arm around her shoulders to keep her close to him as he lets his eyes fall shut.

He can’t quite hear, but he can feel her lips move softly against his neck as she mumbles something he can only perceive as a bid goodnight. With a smile on his face, he runs a hand through her hair, carefully untangling it with ease. He only has to lean forward a little bit to press his lips to the crown of her head.

“Goodnight, sweetheart” He murmurs back to her, followed by another, softer kiss.

[ i’ve got my mind on you ] ___

a/n: squealed and kicked my feet thru most of writing this btw :3

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #gojo #satoru #satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo #gojo satoru imagine #gojo satoru scenario #gojo satoru fanfiction #gojo satoru reader insert #jujutsu Kaisen reader insert

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thebigsl33p · 4 months

Text

Last Words of A Shooting Star (Part One)

A/N: this is the longest fic I've ever written, and this is only part one. A lot of love has gone into this, I'm super excited to share it! If there any mistakes or stuff please let me know. Uh, Aleksander's kinda OOC bcs it's early days and I'm not traumatising him yet but I am gonna make everyone so miserable in Part Two, I promise, and then he'll become a mardy bastard. Masterlist will be up with the second part, and my main will be updated.

Main Masterlist

people I thought might appreciate being tagged: (If not, sorry!!!):

@augustwithquills @myanmy @noortsshift @archangelslollipop @vaguekayla @budugu @inlovewithfictionalmen444 @weallhaveadestiny @dreamlandcreations @bookloverfilmoholic @lost-tothe-centuries

Warnings: Violence - murder, not too graphic, I don't think. I think that's all, if not please let me know. tbf, canon level I think but maybe I'm delusional

Word Count: 8260

Fic Playlist:

Aleksander has always had a fascination with the night sky. He can’t help it. It’s the darkness, he thinks, it runs in his blood and makes up his flesh, how couldn’t he be absolutely enamoured with it?

Maybe it’s because it was the only constant.

So much of his childhood, his years as a teenager and as a young adult were spent travelling, creating new identities, learning new landscapes, new faces, new names, new buildings, all of which would disappear and be replaced every two weeks. And sure, the daytime was nice with the sun and all. But it wasn’t as peaceful, didn’t bring him that same tranquillity as when he would lay down in a field, gaze up and try to name all the constellations, find new shapes and make up new stories.

Perhaps it all changed due to the incident at the Grisha camp. He had loved sunlight, the dark had scared him. But now, something was different - that air of peace was replaced by a penchant for the tenebrosity that the night brought with it, and a love for the small lights which decorated the dusk.

No matter where he went, whether he was North, East, South, or West, the night-sky was the same. Always that deep monumental blue speckled with little dots - little lights, little moons, little stories - which people like him called Stars. There was nothing quite like laying in a field, feeling the cool summer breeze or the biting winter gusts and knowing that you were so small, so insignificant compared to everything that burned up in the cosmos.

He was young then. Young and naive. And it was before her.

Looking back on it, Aleksander should’ve known better. Hadn’t the incident at the Grisha Camp taught him that? Wasn’t it what his mother drilled into him constantly? Trust no one. Never show your abilities. Touch no one. He was, politely put, a fool.

He was a young man when his life changed, for the better and for the worse. It’s hard to remember exactly, but he believes he was around nineteen, and he remembers it was a hot summer’s evening. The day had been spent working. He couldn’t have known then, but that ‘work’ was the beginnings of The Little Palace. But back then, it was him being - as his mother would put it - foolish, and helping other Grisha travel across Ravka. They were hard to find, and even harder to trust, but gradually, slowly yet surely, he was building a good network.

But during the nights, just for a little while he could let that go. He could lay in the tall grass, head tipped towards the dark vast sky and he could stare up at the stars and pretend he was normal, that shadows weren’t absentmindedly curling around his fingers.

For some reason he struggles to remember memories before that time. They’re blurry and vague, little snippets and days that he’s lost with his extended age. But that particular night, he remembers it vividly - his long hair brushing his cheek in the wind, the hard dirt under his head, the hum of nature and bugs, the bustle of a town not so far away carried on the wind, and the stars. They were the brightest he’d ever seen them, almost restless, buzzing in their eternal placeholders. Something, he could feel, was wrong.

The image of the star falling to Earth is eternally seared into his memory.

It appeared faster than he could comprehend - one second it wasn’t there, and then one second it was. He sits up on his elbows, completely transfixed and stunned by, what he at first presumes, is a shooting star. But gradually, he realises it’s getting bigger, faster… closer.

This burning bright ball of cream yellow light, tumbling through time and space and existence, tumbling towards him. Sitting there in the field, stunned by the sight, he’s sure he can hear it fizzling and crackling, knows it’s completely impossible from this distance, but he’s certain of it. Something tugs in his chest, somewhere between unbridled intrigue and panic, his mother’s words of warning echoing in his head. The intrigue wins, it’s an easy internal battle of common sense and childlike wonder which he thought he had long abandoned.

Aleksander scrambles to his feet, accidentally getting dirt on his palms and his trousers but he barely notices, head still tilted to the sky and his breath caught in his throat. He can see the trajectory of the star, where it will land in a section of the forest just a bit off from where he’s camping out. His eyes widen, a small smile, and before he knows it he’s stepping towards the tree-line, his black boots thudding on the ground as his footsteps get quicker and quicker.

To anyone else, the forest might’ve seemed daunting, especially so late at night. But the Shadow Summoner stepped into it without hesitation, the wizened terrain underfoot switching to a softer crunch of twigs and leaves. Once inside, he loses sight of the star, the canopy of the forest shielding it from him, its only indication being the unnatural light it shines through the leaves onto the forest floor, making his journey easier. He dodges twigs, branches, spider-webs, ducking and batting them out of the way quickly, balancing looking at the floor and where he’s going with gazing up at the foliage covered sky for any indication he’s travelling the right way.

He doesn’t know why he’s following after the star. He doesn’t know how he knows it’s a star. It feels more akin to when you’re in a dream, and you just know something is. Something about it compels him, drags him forward and pushes him on, deeper into the forest.

When the star makes impact, he feels it. In fact, Aleksander’s sure the entire world might’ve felt it, the shake in the trees and the ground, the birds disturbed from their midnight peace quickly fleeing their homes at the rattle of the branches and leaves, the dust-like dirt stirring. And it guides him to the star - the cracking noise it made as it hit the ground unmistakably came from a fraction to his left and so, he followed that way.

He knows he’s getting closer when the damage becomes more destructive. It’s no longer just disturbed birds and dirt, it’s entire trees tilted at an angle as if God had pushed a finger into the dirt and tilted them, their roots peeking through the soil. But in the middle of the makeshift clearing it is dark, the disturbed dirt floating and drifting through the air and concealing his surroundings. The ground is severely dented and compacted, forming a large dark crater which Aleksander can barely peek over.

He shuffles from the damaged treeline, his boots creaking on the soil as he tries to catch a glimpse over the edge of the vast crater, but it’s wide and deep, and the edges are loose. He’s careful, his Shadows waiting obediently for his hands to move - for some form of attack or defence. But it never comes.

Instead, as the clouds of dirt clear, the centre of the crater gradually became more visible. The middle was, overall, smooth but it slopes and nicks here and there. He had expected to see a rock, some large grey bland thing which ultimately would’ve made this all less exciting. But what he sees instead has his eyes widening. There, in the middle of the crater, is a young woman. She’s asleep - passed out maybe - her arms loosely stretched outwards, her hair splayed, messy and white. It’s not even like he can say it’s grey, or silver, or blonde. No, her hair is white, paper white, as white as the dress she’s wearing. It fits her well, skims over her body without constricting too much movement. He notices she has no shoes on. It dawns on him that this sleeping woman, this girl, is the Star and his brow furrows softly.

He barely hesitates before he’s sitting on the ledge of the crater and sliding down it, his boots landing on the compacted soil with a thud. In a few strides he’s standing over the sleeping girl, and then in another quick action he crouches down and picks her up, the back of her knees bent over his arm, her waist in his other as he supports her back and her head lolls. He huffs in soft amusement, and walks back the way he came, gently hoisting her up the wall of the crater with as much care as he can, using his shadows when he has a spare hand. It’s hard, and takes a bit of manoeuvring, but he gets there eventually before he pulls himself up. It’s a surprise to him that she hasn’t woken up yet.

He didn’t feel comfortable leaving her there like that, asleep, vulnerable and barefoot where anyone could’ve found her and not have known what they had stumbled on. He picks her up again, and begins his journey back through the forest, a little slower and with a little more care, mumbling to himself - to her - as they go. She doesn’t stir once, her head propped against his chest, her hair tickling his arm slightly.

The journey back to where he was camping out is peaceful. It’s quiet, save for his footsteps or the rustle of clothes. Occasionally, the moonlight catches her and she sparkles a bit. Literally sparkles, reflects it like a goddamn mirror. It really is a sight to see and it makes his lips quirk up a bit.

When they get back to the field, he’s careful. Aleksander lays her down on his mat, adds a few more logs to the fire and covers her with his coat. He thinks of checking her for injuries or damage, but decides that can wait until she wakes up. He doesn’t want to be a creep, and if she’s in pain she’s probably better off telling him when she wakes up, than him finding out for himself.

And so, he settles himself on the other side of the campfire. He leans his head on his pack - considering the girl next to him has his mat - and tries to get what little sleep will come.

When Y/N wakes, it’s in unfamiliar surroundings. The first thing she’s aware of is the cold. It’s not freezing, but it’s uncomfortable, and she tucks her legs up under her until she’s in a ball, tugging the blanket under her chin. Blanket? No. She shouldn’t have a blanket. It shouldn’t be cold…

She sits up fast and quick, all lethargy gone from her body as her eyes widen and she takes in her surroundings. She’s in a field. On a mat. And someone’s dark, large coat is over her body. It’s early morning, the sky a pale grey, a low mist settling on her surroundings and a light dew coating the grass. She can feel heat on one side of her, but her head is turned towards the foggy treeline. She tries to recall the last things she remembers… being in the sky, existing, and then a sudden gap which she can’t figure out, and then she wakes up here.

She’s caught in thought, trying to make sense of her surroundings when a voice says, “You’re awake.” and her head whips around. On the other side of a fresh campfire is a young man, dark eyes, long dark hair, pale skin and dark clothes. He’s roasting a rabbit over the fire - no doubt freshly caught from the knife that sits beside him. His pack sits beside him, his eyes never leave her, even as she expresses soft panic.

She tries to get up, but her body aches, and he holds out a hand, “Easy. I’m not… I’m not going to hurt you. What’s your name?” he asks softly, waving to her to relax.

She answers hesitantly, her eyes scanning the boy, “Y/N.” she says eventually, “You?”

“Leonid.” Aleksander lies, looking between the campfire and her, “Are you hurt anywhere? You took… quite the fall.”

“Funny.” Y/N says drily, “How long have you been working on that one?”

From the grin that splits his face, he’s clearly secretly pleased with his dad-joke, “Just this morning.” Leonid - Aleksander - turns a bit more serious, “Are you, though? Hurt?”

She shakes her head, kicking the coat off her and putting it to one side so she can sit up properly, “No, I’m fine.” she mumbles, “Just achy.”

“Mhm, I suppose that’s to be expected.” he holds the cooked rabbit out to her on a makeshift fork, “Here, eat. You’ll need it.”

Y/N takes it hesitantly, sniffing it before picking a bit of meat off it with her fingers and eating it, “Thanks… who are you?”

“Leonid.” He repeats.

“No, I meant like - where am I? Who are you - like - how did you find me?”

“Well,” he leans back on his elbows, glances around, “You’re in a field, near Vernost, in Ravka.” he says, “and I am…” his brow furrows softly as he figures out how to phrase this. She’s a Star - would she even understand the difference between Grisha and Otkazats’ya?

He says it anyway.

“As I said, my name’s Leonid, I’m…” he’s hesitant - would a star really have prejudices? He hopes not. He takes a foolish chance. “Grisha. You know what that is?”

She nods, offers him what remains of the Rabbit. He waves it off, indicating that she finishes it. “Why are you helping me?” She asks, tilting her head.

“My, you’re just full of questions.” he sighs, “I saw you fall. I wasn’t just gonna… leave you.”

“Right.” Y/N’s eyes narrow slightly, “is this your coat? Here you can have it back.” she nudges the coat towards him.

He gives her an amused look, his eyes moving down, then back up, “I think you’ll need it more than me, zvezda.” he muses, smug almost.

She glances down at the dress she’s wearing. It’s simple, plain, and he’s right. It’s too thin for the current weather - she’ll be better off as it warms up during the day - but for now, she accepts the coat with a small, amused huff.

"C'mon, eat that fast," he says, indicating to the rabbit, "We've gotta get going before the sun is too high." He's already tucking away the few things he got out, "I'm gonna walk you to the nearest town, Vernost, leave you somewhere safe, okay?" he glances at her, "Get you some shoes and some more suitable clothes. Until then…”

He reaches into his pack, produces a spare undershirt and hands it to her with an almost apologetic look, "Better than nothing." she nods in thanks.

She takes the shirt with a grateful nod. Once she's finished the rabbit, she stands and hands him the mat, watching as he rolls it up and tucks that away too, and then they're set to travel. She pulls on the undershirt over her dress and while it hangs loosely it provides a bit more comfort, and then she shuffles on his coat. It’s too big for her, completely contrasts her bright eyes and white hair, the sleeves hang loosely and she has to roll them up.

He wants to make her as comfortable as possible, and so shows her the map he’s using, highlights the path they’ll be travelling with his finger, showing their way through the woods, worries a bit over her lack of shoes and then they’re walking.

The path to the town is simple, through the woods, past her crater, and then a little further for about fifteen or twenty minutes. He’s careful to go first, his harsh boots making some attempt at flattening the ground for her barefoot condition. Aleksander considers picking her up - no, too weird for someone he’s just met - and she doesn’t seem to be in any pain.

They keep walking. The sun rises higher, the morning beginning just as they make their way into Vernost. It’s a small town, but a good town. The hustle and bustle of people, farmers, artisans, builders and blacksmiths is accompanied by the gentle murmur of the small local market, travellers and locals who move between stalls and shops, horses’ hooves on the cobblestone, the crowd parting for an occasional rickety wooden carriage.

He glances over to her. The look of awe on her face is somewhere between sad and endearing. She’s struck completely by this tiny town, the smallest, simplest form of inhabitance, and yet it brings nothing but awe and wonder to her gaze. There’s a sense of yearning in the way her eyes run over everything as they walk, as if she’s desperate to take it all in, to retain it, keep it held to her chest - to make life hers. To have all of it - to know the joys and the sorrows like the back of her hand. Aleksander could practically see the light come to life behind her eyes, as if she’d finally woken up to something wonderful.

He smiles, somewhere between amusement and appreciation, and places a hand on her shoulder to steer her through the crowds which are slowly getting busier, “Easy tiger.” he says and she laughs sheepishly.

“It’s just all so…” she doesn’t know how to describe it, the words to explain the way her heart is racing all jam up in her throat. She has a heart. The rushing of blood, just the wind against her skin, it’s all she ever wanted to feel, and now that she can feel it, now she’s no longer confined to the night sky, she’s in complete and utter astonishment, raptured by everything around her.

“Kinda overwhelming?” He suggests, raising an eyebrow as they walk. He’s keeping an eye out for a Cobbler - or anywhere that sells shoes, really. Again, he casts his eyes down to her bare feet and feels guilt and concern rise in him, that the streets of Vernost, nor the woods are exactly clean, and they must be hurting by now.

But one glance at her face and he can tell she barely feels it. It’s just dirt - it can be washed off. However, it doesn’t ease the guilt.

The first time she ‘shines’, is over a piece of cake.

They’d been travelling together for a few weeks now. Aleksander was a fool to think he could leave her alone in Vernost, his worries, concerns and guilt over the Star getting the better of him. They stayed for a few days there, giving her a general introduction to the workings of human life in a contained and somewhat non-threatening environment.

In their few brief days in Vernost she tries a range of food, stews, desserts. He explains money, the current politics of the country over a bowl of stew from the Inn they were staying at, explains the prejudices and segregation of Grisha, the violence. They get her clothing, a shirt, an overvest, trousers and boots, and a small bag to carry her non-existent belongings. She folds her dress into it for the first few days - that silky silver material which catches in the moonlight - and it fits surprisingly well, tucks into the corner of the satchel. He explains to her how to read the map, all the different little symbols. In some ways, she’s like a child. Her lack of general knowledge about the world is understandable, but she catches on fast, much faster than anyone else could’ve.

Well, they’d been travelling together for a few weeks, developing a relationship that might even be called friendship. Aleksander had to make a few adjustments to the way he travelled - he was still telling Y/N his name was Leonid - occasionally they travelled at night. Honestly, it made more sense, he felt more comfortable in the darkness, and she had more energy. But it also made them bigger targets for suspicion, people travelling at night were often suspected of Grisha related activity… which is exactly what he was doing. She was just along for the ride, and the last thing he wanted was for her to get dragged into his problems and potentially harmed. Conflicting morals, he knows.

They’d passed through a few villages on their travels, small places which minded their own business and were good for occasional stock ups on food, water, supplies.

He doesn’t know why he bought the slice of cake. Aleksander had decided it was good for her to develop her own independence, and so she had gone to make her own way around this small town they’d stopped in. Meanwhile, he perused the sparse shops for anything of use.

The slices of cake were sitting in the shop window, all of them uniform in their cream decoration and the small slices of strawberries which sat inside and on top of the layers of sponge, and all of them placed delicately on little porcelain dishes. He enters the shop without thinking, purchases a slice to take away, lets the person wrap it away in a small tissue and carefully takes it, slipping it into a safe part of his own bag. He’s careful for the rest of the day in the way he moves - making sure not to squash or compromise the baked good. He can’t quite wrap his mind - nor his heart - around why he’s done it. Why did he suddenly feel the urge to buy her a slice of cake of all things. But he’s glad he did. Aleksander hopes she’ll like it.

He presents it to her over their campfire for the evening. It’s a small thing made of dried grass and twigs or any larger pieces of wood they could find but it provides light and heat and that’s enough. They’re sitting either side of it, across from one another, having just eaten bread and cheese for dinner. Twilight is setting in the sky, and he can see it on her - the way her eyes are slightly brighter, her laugh slightly more mellow as they chat over their food.

He reaches into his bag by his side, clears his throat and says, “I got you something.”

Y/N’s brow furrows softly, and she tilts her head as he continues, “I just… it’s small, but I thought you might like it.” and he produces a square shaped thing, slanted, and wrapped in tissue, still preserved, offering it to her in the palm of his hand over the campfire.

She takes it gently, “What is it?” as she delicately peels back the tissue. The cake is… well, cake. The sponge is a soft pale yellow, the cream delicately placed and the strawberries are slightly softer than they should be, but won’t make too much of a difference. She raises it to her nose and hesitantly sniffs it, which gets a chuckle out of him.

“It’s cake.” he answers, “Go on, try it.” Aleksander encourages her with a wave of his hand.

She raises her eyebrows and lifts the cake to her mouth, taking a small bite. Her eyes instantly light up, and he laughs at her reaction as she mumbles, “Oh, Saints, this is really good..” Around a mouthful of cake.

She eats a bit more, and then holds it out to him, “Want some?”

And that’s when he sees it. She’s shining. Literally glowing. Radiating light, her very skin and hair giving it off like it’s nothing. His breath hitches as she lights up the field. It’s not particularly bright, but it’s strong and it makes itself known. She’s like a mellow night light, and it only causes his smile to widen, “You’re um…” he gestures at her - at her glowing.

Her brow scrunches up - it’s cute - and she laughs sheepishly, “Shining?”

“Yeah. That.” he grins, leaning back on his palms.

She huffs, a huff of mock exasperation, “I’m sorry - I can’t… it’s not something I can really control. It just happens, y’know. Like…” She averts her eyes to the flames of the small campfire, “If I’m happy. I shine - it’s what stars do best.” They both laugh a little.

“Well, it suits you.” Aleksander says gently - his voice much softer than he meant it to be, or than he’s comfortable with. When did he get so… compassionate? He internally grimaces, but for some reason he feels an odd sense of endearment to this girl.

“Yeah,” She responds with a wry grin, “I should hope so. I am a star, after all.”

And again, they both laugh.

Aleksander didn’t intend to keep her with him for so long. He didn’t intend to introduce her to his friends - to his connections, to the people across the country who help him with his work. He didn’t intend to get her involved. But they’ve been travelling together for three months and in that time, he’s discovered a wide array of things.

The first is that she’s good with a sword. Perhaps good is an understatement. She has a natural balance about her, maybe it’s her celestial nature, but watching her with a sword is like watching art. The handle sits in her palm with an easy weight, she swings it with an air of freedom and lax, yet with complete control. The blade is, undoubtedly, hers.

They had discovered her penchant for swords in a rather unfortunate situation. They had been a touch careless. He was feeling more secure with someone else travelling at his side. And so, had paid less attention to his surroundings. If there was one con of her having her around, it was that she was a touch of a distraction.

They had passed through a village. They stayed to briefly eat lunch sitting in the town square, and then had gone to pass on just as quick as they came. It shouldn’t have drawn attention. But it did.

They hadn’t noticed the group of men watching them, looks of disdain on their features as they eyed up the two of them, mumbling to one another. They’d managed to avoid trouble so far, steering clear of Druskelle and negative situations, but on that day, something had given them away as both travellers and Grisha. It was hard to say what - perhaps it was the way they murmured and laughed quietly with one another, maybe the tell-tale way his hands moved. Perhaps he’d been careless and a slip of shadow had been noticed. They couldn’t say for certain. But these men, standing and sneering, they knew.

Either way, Y/N and Aleksander were followed back to where they were camping out by the night. It was just a clearing off the main path they were following, and they had been very comfortably sitting, eating, laughing as they did each and every evening, lit by firelight and accompanied by the low hum of bugs and the weather slowly turning cold. She noticed the figures first.

They seemed to come out of nowhere, far enough away that she could tap his shoulder with a quiet, “Leonid. There’s people.”

His brow furrowed softly, and he turned over his shoulder in the direction she was looking at. Three men, two shorter, one that was a bit taller and lagged behind - all three variously armed. One man - short, dirty blonde hair and a face marred by smudges of dirt - carried a small dagger. The second, slightly taller with a slightly more muscular frame, had dark hair that was greying at the roots, a knife, and a snarl. The third and final man, the tallest of the lot was passive, but his eyes glinted in the firelight with nothing malevolence, and in his goliath hand was a sword.

The man with the dark hair speaks first, accented and gruff, his eyes pinned to Aleksander, “Grisha, aren’t you?” he asks the question in a way that betrays he already knows the answer.

Aleksander doesn’t answer. He’s careful. Delicate. She’s sitting behind him, watching the interaction, hesitant to move. He needs to think this through in a way that puts Y/N out of harm's way. His eyes never leave the men.

There’s a movement out of the corner of his eye - the second man, wielding his dagger up quickly, his movements fueled by disgust. Aleksander’s quicker, raising his hand with two fingers pointed up, creating a wall of shadow which the dagger clashes against, and in that moment he’s scrambled up to his feet, grabbing Y/N by the arm and pulling her up with him. He runs.

He’s not used to running. He’s used to fighting. But at the moment he’s responsible for two people’s safety, and so he pushes forward, yelling at her to go. He expected the men to follow. He didn’t expect the largest to go after her, the three men separating into groups of one and two. The two come after him, dagger and knife, and he has little time to worry about Y/N before they’re gaining,

Aleksander’s efficient, his hands move fast to bring forth his shadows, forming sharp points which pierce the chests of the two men with harsh crunches, their weapons dropping into the grass as their bodies go limp, blood drooling from their mouths as the light leaves their eyes.

He breathes a sigh of relief, but then he’s alert again at the sound of someone crying out from behind him. His head whips around, and he sees Y/N, and the largest man. He’s backing her up against the tree line, she’s almost frozen in fear when she trips over her own feet and onto her back. Her eyes widen, the man leers over her, sword readied and in a brief moment of fear and desperation she rears her legs and kicks his knees.

The man grunts, hisses in pain as the sword drops from his hand so he can clutch at where she kicked him. Amateur. And in the next instant she’s lunged across the ground for the sword, where he dropped it, scrambling for it. She’s still on the floor, and she turns onto her back as the man’s attention is brought to her again, large hands reaching to cause her harm.

The sound of the sword cutting into the man is almost deafening. She does it without thinking, pure survival instinct as she cuts the man's stomach, her hands firm on the handle as blood coats them both, her breathing heavy as she pulls the sword out and the man falls back, dying slowly.

She’s frozen, and Aleksander’s eyes are almost as wide as hers. He takes a few loose footsteps towards her, a few more which are a bit firmer before he’s by her side, kneeling beside her and cleaning the blood off her cheeks with his sleeve, gently taking the sword from her iron grip and laying it beside her.

“Are you okay?” He asks quietly, and it feels stupid. She’s covered in blood, shaking, tears in her eyes and the only thing he can think to ask is ‘are you okay’? Saints, he’s an idiot.

He moves on, still wiping the blood off her as well as he can as she nods her head shakily, “It’s alright. You’re alright.” He says quietly. He remembers the first time he killed someone - the guilt, the fear, the horror at yourself. He frowns softly, as the thin shine of tears comes to her eyes and she looks away.

Without thinking about it much more, he picks her up, scooping her into his arms, hooking the back of her knees over his arm as she turns and curls into his chest, her crying quiet and barely audible as he carries her back to their camp.

After that, things are different. They’re closer, in a way.

Y/N keeps the sword, keeps it tucked by her side, takes care of the metal and the handle. She’s good with it, he knows for a fact, and he feels more comfortable knowing she has a means of handling herself. The emotional toll of the murder hit her hard. Perhaps, she thinks, she wasn’t meant to feel emotions like this. Her very existence is in conflict. She’s not meant to be able to feel this way, she’s meant to be a star for Saint’s sake!

But there is something so very human in the guilt she carried in the days after the attack. She was quiet, much quieter than she usually was. At first, she was hesitant to carry the sword. So, instead he carried it for her, catching her eyes flickering towards it occasionally, the way it swung by his hip and the metal caught in the sun.

One evening as they walked, she offered to take it instead.

“Do you want me to take that?” she had said, a quiet, unspoken I think I’m okay now.

“Are you sure?” he asked, “It’s not heavy, I’m okay to carry it for as long as-”

“No, I’m sure.” She nodded, her look determined and firm, “My safety shouldn’t be your responsibility alone.” She explained, “We should be responsible for one another if we’re going to be travelling together. And I can’t do that if I’m unarmed.”

He nodded in understanding, and softly unhooked the sword and the holder, and offered the handle to her. She took it, measuring the weight in her palm, before she put the holder on herself and slipped the sword into it. She took a breath.

He spoke first, “I should tell you something, Y/N. Y’know, if we’re going to be stuck together for a while, I don’t want to keep you in the dark.” he said.

She didn’t respond, simply nodded and waited for him to say what he had to say.

“My name isn’t Leonid, I lied. I’ve spent most of my life having to conceal who I am, what I am, and so I hope you can understand and forgive my deception.” He paused, breathing relief into the night air, “My name is Aleksander.”

“Aleksander?” She echoes, and a small, intimate smile finds her features, “Well, it’s a pleasure to meet you, Aleksander.” She says, in that half-teasing tone he’s become so accustomed with.

He rolls his eyes but can’t fight back the grin, “You’re an ass, do you know that?”

“Ah, you may have mentioned it once or twice.” She shrugs, unable to wipe off that teasing smile from her features.

He huffs in mock exasperation before his tone turns softer. He’s found he has a habit of doing that. Something about her makes him better, gentler. He almost feels human around her, “I mean it Y/N,” he says quietly, “I’m sorry I lied to you, especially for so long.”

“It’s fine,” she says with a small smile, nudging his shoulder, “You’re forgiven, if that eases your conscience.” She’s still slightly teasing, but her tone is mostly compassionate. Endearing, even.

“Thank you,” he says, grinning as he nudges her back, “Saints, you’re insufferable.”

She gasps, dramatically feigning offence. For a star, she’s caught onto the culture of sarcasm and drama rather well, and he laughs at her display, wrapping an arm around her shoulder as they walk. It feels right.

“How are you finding it?” He asks, as they walk, “y’know, being human? Is it weird?” He checks in on her this way every now and then to make sure she’s not overwhelmed. But this is the first time she answers differently.

“...As a star…” She sighed softly, weighing up her words, “You’re constantly watching. You’re up there, watching all these little people have adventures and lives and romance, and it’s… it’s yearning. You want those things too, y’know? You want to be flesh and bone as well, to feel emotion. To cry, and be happy, and be angry, and to know what love feels like. You want adventure, the big things in life like… meeting someone. Or having a family. Or getting an education. Making a difference.” She laughed softly, “But you also want the little things - like cake, for example. And music, and friendship, and to share meals with people you care about.”

She glanced at him, and then back to the path, “I’m glad you found me. I don’t think anyone else would’ve done such a good job at making me feel welcome in a world that isn’t strictly mine.”

Her words were soft, quiet, and sincere. And it made Aleksander’s heart stutter in his chest, but he kept his composure and managed, “I’m glad I found you too.”

Aleksander takes her to a place he calls ‘the sanctuary’.

He explains it to her on the way there - a building, a place, where Grisha can support, aid and train other Grisha.

It’s been months since they first met, and by now the warm comfort of the summer is fading, replaced by cold golden sunlight and browned leaves, wetter grounds and harsher gales. And so, he takes her there.

The sanctuary is a medium-sized, pale stone structure, hidden away in the middle of nowhere, concealed by thick woods and trees. It’s squat, but wide, the front of it gives away nothing but a set of rounded wooden doors. He takes her hand - she’s not even sure he realises that he’s done it - and guides her with him to the front. Her sword swings at her side as she follows, standing beside him as he raps his knuckles on the wooden door a few times.

The door opens a crack, she can’t see who’s on the other side, but Aleksander’s gaze meets theirs and they open it. On the other side is a man, short brown hair and green eyes. He’s rather skinny, but his strength is held in his eyes. He lets Aleksander in without issue, nodding his head softly. Their hands are still linked together and so, she goes to follow.

But the brown haired man stops her, a hand coming to her chest to halt her, his eyes narrowed and dark, glancing back at Aleksander. He answers, “She’s with me, Andrei.”

“Grisha?” The man interrogates.

Aleksander huffs, “No, Andrei. But she’s been helping me for the past five months, let her through.”

Andrei’s eyes narrow in suspicion, and he glances at Aleksander finally before letting his hand drop and allowing her entrance. She nods her head softly, and follows after Aleksander. Y/N feels him squeeze her hand, a quiet apology. She squeezes back as he guides her deeper into the sanctuary. They pass rooms, beds, people who nod at him as they pass and whose eyebrows furrow when they see her trailing after him, and her stark white hair.

Inside, the sanctuary was busy. It was filled with the hum of people working, all in various clothing - some injured, some healing, some cooking, some reading, teaching, training - it was almost a wonderful study in the kindness of human nature and community that had her eyes widening.

“Are you alright, Zvezda?” he asked softly, turning back to her over his shoulder, “Are you overwhelmed? We can…”

“No, it’s… it’s wonderful.” She said quietly, her wide eyes meeting his, “I mean- it’s astounding. I’m good.” she nodded, indicating for him to keep going, “It’s just… in all our time travelling, I’ve never seen anything like this.”

He laughed softly, pulling her closer by her hand, “I guess,” he grinned, “I’m proud of this place. I’m glad you can see it like that.”

They spend at least three weeks at the Sanctuary.

Aleksander takes his time to introduce Y/N to those around her. He shows her around to all the Healers, the Heartrenders, the Inferni, the Squalors, Tidemakers - technically, he shows her off to everyone. But no one knows, really, who - or what - she is. He doesn’t say. People press and ask and inquire, “Oh, what’s her Grisha order?” “Grisha, are you?” And everytime, one of them answers, “Oh, uh, No.” and refuse to elaborate further.

It has the entire building utterly perplexed as to who this strange white haired girl is, and why she has the Shadow Summoner wrapped around her little finger. Not that The Star or The Shadow Summoner can see it, no, they’re completely oblivious. They don’t see how they’re quiet giggles, teasing, conversations might be perceived as intimate. Nor how the amount of time they spend together might be seen as suspicious.

But when you’ve spent everyday with a person for just over five months, all day, everyday, it’s very hard to separate yourself from the comfort they bring.

The confession comes late at night.

Now that they’re in a place like the Sanctuary, they have their own rooms. They’re only small, and they’re a short walk away from one another, and it gives them each a privacy they haven’t experienced for a few months. For the first week - it’s nice. Having their own beds, their own time, being able to spend some of it alone with their thoughts.

He notices it first. That he’s restless. It’s late at night, most of the building is asleep save for those on night watch, and he can barely close his eyes without feeling disturbed. He feels the need to do something - anything - and so, he gets out of bed, slipping back on his boots at the end of his bed and deciding he’s going to go for a walk. Maybe it’ll help clear his mind.

Aleksander’s almost embarrassed. He can’t… he can’t stop thinking of her. He’s annoyed at himself for it, for letting him get that close, for letting him be so vulnerable to someone who wasn’t even human, who had a child’s grasp on the world…

No, that was being unfair. He calms himself as he steps out of his room. He knows he’s just agitated, tired, a little giddy, and he takes a deep breath as he starts off down the corridor, careful not to let his boots thud too heavily. He doesn’t know where he’s going, he decides he’s just going to walk until he comes across something distracting or gets tired.

His feet take him to her room.

It’s the same size as his, and from the crack in the door he can tell she’s still awake, can hear a slight shuffling inside, candle light flickering on the floor. He realises now, why he’s there. What he’s come to do. And his heart lurches in his chest, but he understands that it’s now or hold his tongue for another few months and he doesn’t want to do that.

Aleksander wants her to know about the Y/N shaped cavern she’s carved into his life. He wants her to know about how all those nights spent travelling in fields were not something he was willing to give up so easily - that when spring came he hoped to do it all again. With her. That he thinks of her endlessly. That when he wakes he hopes she’s still sleeping beside him, just a campfire away. And he wants her closer. He wants her. It’s as simple as that, that he wants to see her smile at him, and laugh - he doesn’t care if it’s at him or with him - Saints, he just wants her happy.

The revelation comes to him, standing so close to her yet so far, on her bedroom doorstep. He takes a breath, steels himself to the sound of her soft humming from the other side of the door, and then raises his fist and knocks three times.

By the first knock, the humming stops. By the second, she’s walking over to the door, he can hear her footsteps. And by the third, the handle is turning. The door opens and he lowers his hand. She’s standing on the other side. Of course it was her, he knew it was her. It doesn’t stop his heart from thudding against his ribs, nor his breath hitching quietly.

The light from the candle makes her seem fully celestial, casting a golden hue across her features, and darkening half her face to accentuate them. It bounces off her silver hair, catching in the strands like a contained forest fire.

“Aleksander?” Y/N greets softly, a small amused smile as she tilts her head in soft confusion, her brow furrowing.

“Zvezda,” He greets softly, his eyes catching in the candle, so dark you can barely separate the pupil from the iris, “Can’t sleep?”

She shakes her head with a small laugh, beckoning him in with her hand, “Always got more energy during the night,” she sighs, “And it’s taking some getting used to, not sleeping in a field, not waking up…” next to you.

But she doesn’t need to finish the sentence, he simply hums in agreement and shuts the door behind him, leaning on it, “I know, it’s a big adjustment.” He runs a hand through his long dark hair, “How are you finding the Sanctuary?”

“It’s nice,” she says softly, briefly fixing her words in a slight hurry, “Sorry, that sounded- it’s lovely. The people are kind, the community is wonderful, food’s much better than bread and cheese and meats,” She grins, “No offence.”

He laughs, his nose wrinkling with the action, “None taken. In fact, I completely agree.”

She sits on her bed as they talk, tucking her legs underneath her, “Can’t sleep either?” She probes.

Aleksander shakes his head as well, “No, feeling restless. Same reasons as you.” He admits, feeling a bit more at ease with the slight indication that the comfort they feel around one another may be mutual, “I guess,” he sighs, bracing himself to admit it, “We spent so long together. A week was fine - but it’s weird. I keep on… waking up and expecting to see you.”

“I know,” she agreed quietly with a small laugh, her head bent down to her hands in her lap, “it’s strange, isn’t it? I feel weird not… walking with you, or doing something, seeing a new town or whatnot. And I have this feeling.” She frowned softly to herself.

He tilts his head, folds his arms, “What feeling, Zvezda?” He asks, his brow furrowing gently.

“I… I don’t know.” she said, her eyes narrowing as she looked not quite at him - but just over his shoulder - “It’s like… this…tightness.” her hand came to her chest, her nose scrunching softly, “Here. Like… nausea. But not quite - I’m not going to be sick. And I can feel my heart. And it… it feels like wanting. But stronger?”

His eyes widened a fraction, “And uh, when do you feel it?”

She tilted her head, her eyes zeroing in on him in confusion and uncertainty, “When…” when I think about you. “Oh.” She said quietly, “Is that what that is?” her hand gently rubbed her chest, clearly where she felt it strongest, a sheepish laugh as she turned her eyes to the candle, anywhere but him, “They don’t describe it like this in the books.”

He breathed a sigh of relief as he realised that he wouldn’t have to explain to her that what she was feeling was, at least, a crush. If not more. Aleksander laughed softly, “No, no they do not.”

Y/N laughed too, mildly embarrassed and still somewhat avoiding looking at him, her hands fidgeting, “Look, I’m sorry-”

“Don’t be.” he cut her off, “Don’t be, please don’t be, you’ve done nothing wrong.” He cleared his throat and took a sharp breath, standing up from leaning on the door, “It’s… it’s mutual, Y/N.” and he took a hesitant step towards her, “Zvezda.” He said the nickname to get her attention.

It worked, her head turning slightly, and he continued, “Please don’t ever apologise for having feelings.” He said, his tone so much softer than he was comfortable with, “You’re a human now.” he laughed a little, crouching down in front of her as she sat on the bed, “It’s your job now. To feel. To make the most of life. So,” he said with a playful shrug, “we both have… crushes on one another.” It felt childish to say ‘crushes’ but he couldn’t think of a better word.

“I mean…” he sighed softly, “That’s kind of… why I came here.” He confessed.

“Really?” she asked quietly, watching him intently as he spoke.

“Really.” he echoed, standing up. She patted the bed beside her for him to sit, and he gratefully took it, glad she was taking this all so well and she wasn’t clamming up about their feelings for one another, “Look, Y/N, Zvezda. You’ve changed my life,” he said with a small laugh of disbelief, “I mean… you’re a Star, for Saint’s sake. You are, by nature, brilliant. And you’ve been nothing short of that in the months we’ve been travelling. Even if your humour is appalling.” He softly teased, earning a playful grumble of, “It is not.” from her.

“It is!” he insisted with a teasing grin, “You laugh at all my bad jokes, dear.”

“Yeah well,” her initial embarrassment was beginning to fade as they engaged in their usual banter, “I think that says more about you for making the bad jokes.” to which he scoffed, and she dispersed into laughter, the two of them leaning back on the single bed.

The laughter lasted a moment longer before fading out with a soft, content sigh. He grinned at her from where he was, a hand reaching forward for hers as he softly, half-teasingly, murmured, “You’re doing it again.”

“Doing what?” “Shining, Zvezda.”

“What can I say?” she laughed quietly, her head finding his shoulder, “I’m happy.”

A/N: I cannot wait to go to bed. And also to start part two. Goodnight!! <;3

#Last Words of A Shooting Star AU #Stardust AU #the darkling X reader #Shadow And bone X reader #aleksander morozova x reader #aleksander x reader #shadow and bone fanfic #general kirigan x reader #kirigan x reader #stardust au #thebigsl33p

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bisexual-horror-fan · 6 months

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Bex would you be down to write a dom ethan and sub reader type dynamic smut? This isn’t a request just wondering if it’s something you’re into 😻

Anon of course this is something I am into. First time writing more dominant Ethan! I hope you like it Anon, I haven't posted a fic in over a fucking month! Everything has been so hetic and nuts, I've been working on this behind the scenes and I am hoping this gets me back into the swing of things! Let's go!

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Now Or Never.

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Rating. Explicit. Length. 2.5K. Ethan Landry X FEM! AFAB! Reader. Warnings: DUB CON! Stalking. Creepy And Delusional Behaviour From Ethan. Obsessive Ethan. Man Handling. Degradation. Vaginal Fingering. Vaginal Sex. Raw Sex. Implied Cream Pie. Hold The Moan. Don’t Get Caught.

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Ethan has never been the kind of guy to really go after what he wants. He is much more passive, go with the flow, he doesn’t want to upset the apple cart nor ruin the image that people have of him. He knows it isn’t the best practice, he wants to get out of that, he wants to start doing things for him, maybe he should have made the call to start standing up for himself before agreeing to help his family avenge his brothers' death via a complex murder plot. However, Ethan was committed now, and he wasn’t going to back out, more importantly he saw no way how to, and so he stays.

Assuming an identity in a new place and pretending to be someone he isn’t to infiltrate a group of people, pretend to be their friend just to be close enough to kill them was stressful. It felt like it was consuming his whole life, losing who he actually was in some regard, he needed a distraction, something to help give him purpose, ease his worries and the harsher edges of it all, or he’d go nuts.

You were his outlet.

Stalking just went along with what he did in service of the grand plan, you were not part of it, not involved, but you caught his eye in one of his classes. The first time, he was just going the same direction as you, he swears to God, he wasn’t being a creep, at first. That did not last long. He started to watch you, learn your schedule, get into your routine, and whenever he wasn’t having to continue his charade he was consumed getting lost in you.

He knows where you live, he knows your class times, the coffee shop you frequent, your order at said shop, he knows what soap you use, the part-time job you hold and that one of your biggest pet peeves is when the tag in an item of clothing itches against your skin.

He’s been watching you for an amount of time that he is sure if you knew would make you very fucking uncomfortable. You seemingly hadn’t caught on to what he was up to, which was good, it meant he could keep it up without worry, watching you living your life while you were totally oblivious. To be fair, how observant you are or are not, is not what he liked best about you, honestly what he liked is that you were the opposite to him in a lot of ways. No real responsibilities other than the ones you wanted to have, just living the way you want to, he felt some modicum of jealousy over that, he imagines what life could be like if he could get out of his current situation and have a more normal existence with you, it’s a good escape, but it’s just that, a fantasy, an unattainable one.

It is getting harder and harder to ignore the situation he is stuck in, the same way it is becoming impossible to ignore the clawing feeling of dread in his chest. He wanted to stop feeling so helpless, wanted a sense of control, to feel like he was living for himself, even in a tiny sense.

Time is running out, and he needs to correct this, or he might fuck up everything without some serious stress relief.

Ethan learned about the Halloween party you were going to attend, and he thought maybe that would be good, to go and cut loose a little while near you. That plan changed, morphed, got away from him once he was actually there and near you in the costume you chose.

He tried to keep distance, to just watch but between observing you having fun, the mounting pressure and the frankly bordering on painful erection in his jeans that would not stop throbbing finally a piece inside of him broke.

You had to know what you did to him. You had to know the effect you had on him, it was like you were aware you were being watched, doing this on purpose, it’s maddening. He could crush the red solo cup in his hand as he observes you dance with a friend, the way your hand rests on his arm, your head tips forward to press against his shoulder as you laugh, the sway of your hips, it should be him, why not him? He stews in his thoughts and the anger, the unfairness and the budding arousal threatening to boil over inside himself.

He’d brought his Ghostface costume along, had it in his bag for something he needed to do later, it was like he acted on autopilot. He sneaks off, he got into the costume, and then he waits for the right moment.

You are on your way to the bathroom, but not the main one people use, no these were your friends, and you knew about the lesser used one, he knew about it because of course, creep that Ethan was, he followed you there. When you are close enough he strikes, his hand over your mouth, his other arm loops around your middle, and he drags you the rest of the way to the bathroom. The door is already ajar, it’s no trouble to get you inside, a backwards swing of his foot to the wood makes the door close. The light is dim, there is a nightlight plugged into the wall outlet near the counter top by the mirror, so someone stumbling from the basement guest bedroom can find their way to the bathroom he assumes.

You are struggling against him, squirming, muffled sounds trying to get out from behind his hand, but he is struck by just this. He is touching you for the first time, holding you, he draws you closer, makes it so you are flush against him. He’s thought about this countless times, you are warm and softer than anticipated, he can fucking smell you and it is intoxicating. He is so caught up in this, taking in every detail and small movement, he presses his hips forward, grinds himself on you through the layers of jeans and black fabric as he smells your hair and then what you do next? Ethan never would have thought in a million years you’d respond like this, by your eyes closing and you grinding back, pressing your ass closer to him with a sound behind his hand that might sound like a moan if he let you express it fully.

You aren’t fighting him, not any longer, no you are rocking with him, trying to stimulate yourself in any way possible against him-

Oh.

You are better than he thought, he knew you were a slut, he’d seen you in your place, knew your porn search history and the collection of toys you owned, but to be down to fuck a masked stranger you hadn’t exchanged a single word with? You were a world-class whore, he was going to take advantage of this opportunity to the fullest.

He knows he doesn’t need to hold you so closely, his arm releases your mid-section, his hand slides down your body and between your legs and up the short skirt of the costume you wore, fingers press to your underwear. You are already wet enough he can feel it through the thin material and his gloves. Your hips buck, wanting to get closer, feel more of him, it feeds his ego and emboldens him, you want him, and he isn’t going to deny you.

He gets his glove off, he needs to feel you, skin on skin. His hand slides into your panties, his fingers dip as low as they can and feel the source of your extreme wetness, he presses, tease the hole carefully before his digits slide up through your folds, and he knows he finds what he needs when you gasp, head thrown back against his shoulder.

His hand works, fingers circle over your clit, and you inhale sharply through your nose, brows furrow, and he watches you in the mirror. The way the pleasure plays out on your face as he teases you, he enjoys how your body responds, the small tremors of your limbs, the twisting and squirming of your form, the way your clit throbs under his touch as he presses harder.

He needs to feel you inside. Fingers move, you whine, he dives inside, and he curls them, it causes the biggest reaction out of you yet. Your body pitching forward, hands on the counter and your walls clenching around his fingers. You are so soaked, soft, hot and so thoroughly alive. He can barely move them inside of you, but he does, he slips them in and out, presses to that same spot that got such a big reaction out of you, and he moans quietly, he swears he can feel you getting wetter.

In and out, flex and push, you writhe, and he wants to hear you, he pulls his hand away, but before he does, he has one finger over your lips, that classic symbol of “shhh” and you nod, eyes half lidded and lust filled. You let out quiet moans, his palm grinds against your clit as his fingers fuck in and out, he can’t take much more. The simple movement, the motion, how hard he is rocking against your ass, he wants to be buried in you, wants to fuck you.

So he does.

His hand moves, fingers pulled out, and your eyes had slipped closed again, at the loss of him they open, confused and when you see him pulling the robe up you get the hint. You make your own move, shaky hands lift off the counter and your fingers hook under your skirt, you tug down your underwear and you step one foot out, leaving them hooked around your other ankle. He has the robe up and his pants open finally, the relief of pressure on his straining erection has him letting out a small sigh. His hands are on you, he adjusts you, one knee on the counter and pushing you forward, your hands braced on the sink, and you adjust too, your hips tilt and soon with a hand on your back and the other on the base of his cock he is lining up.

It’s rushed and faster than he wants, but he just wants so much, it’s been so fucking long he can't stop it, can't help himself. He feels you, the heat coming off of you, the wetness on his tip, he lingers for only a moment before his hips move involuntarily, and then he is helpless. The first half inch pops in with no resistance, and you are perfect, you feel incredible it makes him let go of himself, hands lock on your hips, and he pushes further, slides deeper, and he watches you in the mirror. The way your mouth falls open, the exhalation, the way you tense in some regards and relax in others, but mostly he can’t focus on much else other than how your cunt feels around him as he settles in, finally to the base.

He soaks you in for a second, you are more impatient than he, you whine again, needier than before, and you move first, pull your hips forward before sliding them back, and it makes any semblance of control break. He takes over, the grip on your hips tightens, and he pulls out almost totally before driving back in, you have to bite your lip to hold the moan back enough to not be overheard. The party is on the main floor, you are in the basement, but you are sure that he could make you alert everyone up there.

This was insanely hot for you, a masked stranger pulling you away and touching you, groping you, fucking you without you seeing his face or uttering a single word? Unbearably hot, his fingers were good, but even two minutes in his dick puts his hands to shame. He is greedy. He touches more, he didn’t touch you enough before, his other glove comes off, and he touches your legs, your thigh, a firm squeeze of your ass, he feels up your sides and your chest. You lean closer into his touch, moving still with him, loving the pace he took as he fucked you, rough and quick, he pulls the top of your costume down, exposes your tits, palms them, and you moan louder than you probably should.

This is good, but it could be better still, your hand is between your legs, you stroke your clit as he fucks you, the stretch of him is delicious, you find yourself gasping, arching your back a bit more so he hits that spot inside just a bit harder, a touch better. You are so close to the mirror you are in danger of fogging it up, but you want to look at him, you’d been staring at his masked face this whole time, wondering who is under it.

You move back, press yourself closer to him and away from the mirror, and you get this urge. This urge that you don’t question or think about. Your back is to his chest, he is still preoccupied with fucking you and rolling your nipples between his fingers, perfectly distracted, huffing and letting out small sounds of pleasures, groans, you reach back behind him and the move is fast. You push the hood back, fingers grip, and you pull and twist, the mask comes off. He’s shocked.

He was so consumed with the feeling of getting to have you, with the mounting pleasure, he even had his eyes closed like an idiot, you got the drop on him. He stopped, held deep, and your eyes met in the mirror.

He’s hot. Hotter than you thought possible, dark sweat soaked curls and hard eyes, pretty pink lips are wet and parted, he’s strong and has had no issue throwing you around and holding you down. The low orange light playing off your body and his face is going to be burned in your mind forever.

You don’t want him to stop, you want to keep going. You maintain eye contact, you move again, pull him out slightly before bucking back, he inhales hard, and you do it again, and again, slip more out and take him harder on every movement, and he comes back to himself.

You like this, like him, you liked him as a stranger doing this, but you were still into this now made it even better. He takes over again, he fucks you harder while still meeting your eyes in the mirror. He wasn’t going to stop now until you came around him, and he filled you up.

God, he needed this.

#BHF asks #BHF writing #Ethan Landry x reader #Scream 6 x reader #Ghostface x reader #HEY BITCHES I'M BACKKKKK #ENJOY IT #EAT UP

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