Summery: You’re a newly recruited maid at the House of the hearth, soon invited to a fatui exclusive ball, you accept with no hesitation, yet you’re oblivious to the tension you’ll get trapped in…
Authors note: HIII, first time writing a serious story/oneshot ?? (No idea yet, depends on how much attention this gets 😼), Reader can either wear a dress or suit thingy, you decide !! BUT UH, I HOPE YOU ENJOYYYY !! Xx
The night was young, your hands folding the slightly dampened towels that had been freshly washed, due the the children having a small field day, which involved in venturing into the waters to try spear a fish. You’d only been active at the House Of The Hearth for a few months, yet it already felt like home, the other maids and fellow servants all greeted you with soft smiles and welcoming words, your new room had a basket of goodies, put together by the knave herself.
„ (Y/N) !! Where are you ?! We need to tidy up the library before the knave arrives !” Your fellow co-workers words were rushed and anxious, causing you to flail your hands about, dropping a towel onto the floor, your head snapped to her, Ivery, a young girl your age, light pink hair and purple eyes, she grabbed a hold of your arm before you could say anything.
„ Cmon cmon !! Those shelves won’t dust themselves… “ she muttered, her pouty lips always made you giggle.
„ Alright alright, I get it, the library’s a mess, and you’re stressed… but isn’t uh… what’s the folks name…” You pause, tapping your chin in deep thought
„ Oh Reem ! ~ “ It sounded as if Ivery had let out a moan at his name… the girl was head over heals for that pasty man, tall, brown messy hair, dead grey eyes, the girl was obsessed.
„ Yes uh… Reem.. W-wel-urh- isn’t it his turn to be dusting the library with you.?” Your eyes darted around the messy library, books scattered, shelves dusty, the whole place was just a mess.
„ Well… the stupid man had some… Other business to attend “ Ivery snarled as she began dusting the brown, waxed shelves. You nodded along, slowly picking up the discarded books and arranging them into the correct sections.
In the corner of your eye, you saw a fellow servant slip into the library.
„ Miss (L/N) and Miss Lowcaster… I have come to deliver a message, the harbingers invited to you both to the upcoming ball, please present these letters to the ballroom on the 17th August. Good day lady’s… “
The servant handed you and Ivery a fancy letter, your names delicately written in black ink, the seal was a crimson red, the design of the House Of The Harth printed onto it, your gloved fingers skimmed the envelope, peeling it open with gentle fingers, Ivery on the other hand was ripping it open, skimming her eyes over the invite, it seemed that every second her eyes shone brighter.
„ Oh. My. God !!! (Y/N) we’re attending a ball !! Oh I do hope my beloved Reem appears… “
Ivery took ahold of your hands, bouncing up and down, a huge grin plastered onto her face as a small one crept onto yours.
The ball was in 2 months, which gave you maybe, 2 weeks to plan and re-arrange your schedule, 1 week to invest in a tailored outfit, and the rest of the time to sort out plans and fun activities for the children to enjoy, it was all working out… and you’re pretty sure that the all famous knave was attending…
August 17th
Your hands glide down your body, smoothing your outfit, 5,000 Mora… quite the hefty sum for a tailored outfit from an underground business, but it didn’t matter, you had the children busy, your hair done, and you had even gone as far as to get… Black gloves, Oo look at you fancy.
„ (Y/N) !! Oh my sweet (Y/N). My dear Reem has invited me to accompany him during the ball ! “ Ivery sang while in the carriage, you nodded slowly, too distracted at the thought of meeting your master, The Knave, who knows, you might strike conversation with her during the dance… you might even dance with her.
Before you could muster up another thought, the carriage came to a stop, you had arrived. As you hopped out, your gloved hand was outstretched for Ivery, like the gentlewoman you were.
Soon, Ivery had ran off to find Reem, while you slowly dragged yourself into the grand ballroom, classical music vibrated against the walls, businesses men and women debated together. Your first stop was the side bar, taking a sip of the thick red wine, the bitter taste made you shiver, yet you tired to look professional. Just as you were about to pay, the bartender stopped you.
„ No worries ma’am, the knave has requested to take care of your charges tonight. “
What…? You hadn’t even had a proper conversation with the woman and she’s out here paying for your drink ? You nodded and stood up, your eyebrows furrowed In confusion, that was until you bumped into someone, your face squished against their chest, your hands outstretched, frozen, you were frozen.
„ Ah… is this is your way of repaying me miss (L/N)…? “ A smooth, deep voice spoke to you, the knaves voice… you had bumped into THE knave.
„ W-wha -I- uh- oh my gosh I’m so sorry Knave I just uh… I’m not very good at… consuming hefty amounts of alcohol..? “
„ Hefty ? You merely had a glass of wine. “
Slowly, you forced your body to peel off of her, her deep crimson eyes glared into yours, her hand rested on your lower back, keeping little to no distance between the two of you.
„ And please, refer to me as Arlecchino. “
You took in a big gulp, your hands shakily coming to rest on her chest, her eyebrow raised a little at that, but she payed no mind to it, instead she lent in closer.
Across the night, you both exchanged secrets that only the two of you know, she had suggested raising you salary, she had danced with you all night, even making sure pesky businessmen don’t try to persuade you to buy their crappy products.
„ Tonight was lovely Arlecchino… thank you for accompanying me “
„ It was my pleasure, for I hope to dance with you again, Lady (Y/N). “
There was a long awkward pause, her hands clenching at her sides… You cursed yourself in your mind, your hands shakily coming up to cup her face, as you lent in.
„ i sincerely apologise for what I’m about to do- “
Before you could finish your sentence, her lips crashed down onto yours, her hands tugged you closer by the hips, her tongue slipped and wrestled with yours, your soft huffs warmed up her face, it was addicting, she was addicting, you could taste her all day long
For she was quite bitterly sweet.
Authors Ending Note: GOODNESS ME, OK, SO I MIGHT MAKE A SECOND PART DEPENDING IF THIS GETS ATTENTION YKYK, BUT UH, I HOPE YOU ENJOED IT 🙏🙏😍 (Btw, artist is @deciqm, and thank you to ‘crediter-of-the-artist for finding them for me😭 ((I had just found them on Pinterest)
As Wednesday returns from yet another one of her late-night excursions, she slips into the room like a shadow she, careful not to make a sound. , silent, deliberate, unseen by anyone but the walls.
She’s halfway to her desk before she notices you.
You’re curled on your side in bed, blanket rucked up around your hips, arms wrapped tightly around a soft pillow. Your face is relaxed, lips parted, hair a sleepy mess against the sheets.
Wednesday stops.
For a moment, she simply stares at the pillow.
It’s ridiculous, really, that a lump of stuffing and fabric should be given the honour of being held so tightly. Of being the thing you reach for in her absence. Something ugly and hot twists under her ribs.
She crosses the room in a few precise steps and unceremoniously tugs the pillow out of your arms.
You groan in protest, clutching at empty air, eyes still shut.
“You look so sleepy,” Wednesday says, studying your face like it’s evidence. Her hand slides down the length of the blanket until it finds your waist, resting there with quiet possession.
"But I think that I have something that will wake you up."
With a flick of her wrist, she produces a large hunting knife and tracing the cool metal along your collarbone, under your t-shirt leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. She leans in, kissing you deeply, her tongue exploring your mouth with a knowing expertise. You begin to feel her other hand slowly sliding down to your inner thigh.
"What do you say? Are you going to lie there like a corpse or be a good girl and wake up for me?" she smirks and climbs on to the bed beside you clearly already knowing the answer.
Your eyes remain closed but you groan and squirm into her touch, enjoying the sensations from the sharp knife as well as her soft cold fingertips. You turn on your side towards the dark haired girl and groan a little, playfully snapping and trapping her hand between your thighs.
Wednesday stills, then lets out a low hum.
“Mmm,” she says, amusement curling at the edge of her words.
“It seems you’re more awake than you look.” she says, trailing the tip of the knife down your stomach and watching as your body shivers in anticipation.
She leans in and whispers softly in your ear, "But first, we need to get you out of these clothes.
Her eyes glitter in the dim light as she studies you, your flushed cheeks, your slow smile, your stubbornly closed eyes.
“How attached are you to that, t-shirt?” she asks lifting the fabric up with her knife to inspect it.
“Uhmm..it’s just an old bed t-shirt?” You say propping yourself up on to your elbows looking up into her dark gaze.
With that, she begins to slowly start cutting your oversized shirt with her knife, revealing your bare skin inch by inch.
Once your shirt is off, she straddles you and brings the knife to your chest, tracing patterns along your skin, leaving light red marks in place.
"You know how much i love to play with you, don't you?" she says with a smirk, before leaning down to kiss and bite at your neck.
Her free hand starts to trail down your body, teasingly slow as she makes her way towards your panties.
"Let's see how much you can take" She says, before sliding the knife under the elastic of your panties and letting it go with a snap.
You gasp at the contact and buck your hips hissing at the sting against your sensitive skin.
She looks at you her eyes predatory and chuckles softly watching you arch your back into her touch.
"You're so eager" she smirks down at you, before sliding a finger under the elastic of your panties, this time running her fingers through your folds lightly.
"But patience is a virtue, and I want to savor every moment," she murmurs, running the knife over your chest before leaning down to bite at your nipple and suck it into her mouth throwing the knife to one side.
"Mmm, you feel so good," she moans softly, her breath hot against your skin as she continues to move her hands through your slickness with an expert touch.
She almost winces when she feels how wet you are, taking a breath, to compose herself. You don’t need to look down to know there’s a semi-hard bulge beginning to form in her pants.
"But I think you’re still a little too tired to play," she says, before beginning to pull away, a wicked gleam in her eye.
You groan at the loss of her touch and grab her hand before it moves away entirely, looking into her eyes with desperation as you whisper. “P-Please don’t stop, i need your touch…please touch me.”
She smirks at your desperate plea and leans down to kiss you deeply, her fingers moving back to your swollen clit. "That's a good girl," she says, breaking the kiss and watching as you pant and writhe against her, her touch not faltering against your aching centre. "But I want to hear you say it louder.“
She watches you intently waiting for an answer, but when she doesn’t get one she decides to push further, dropping her fingers to circle your sopping wet hole teasing it lightly as your face contorts in pleasure.
"Come on... tell me how badly you want it," she says, her hand movements become hard, fast and tight against you building up an inferno within you.
“Fuckk…I want it so badly, please don't stop.” you all but scream, but it doesn’t help because she takes her hand away again, moving to stand at the side of the bed.
You can’t help but whine dropping your full weight flat to the bed as you roll over on to your stomach, kicking your legs as you moan and squirm in agony. You were so close.
She strokes your hair gently. "Don't worry, I'll take good care of you." Her expression is momentarily soft, but it quickly shifts back to her signature mischievous grin, a glint of wickedness returning to her eyes.
"I want you to get on all fours for me, mi perdición," she says, her voice low and commanding as she watches you with a predatory gaze. "And I want you to show me just how much you crave my touch. I want you to show me just how bad you want it," she continues, before reaching for the knife and tracing it along your spine, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake.
As you get on all fours, your stomach flutters with arousal as you feel her move behind you, her now fully hard bulge pressed against your ass as she puts her hands on your hips.
You decide to have a little fun as you drop down lower putting your head to the bed, and your arms out in front of you as you raise your ass to fully present yourself to her, to fully submit and hopefully show her how much you want it.
“Like this? You want me all spread out for you like this?” You say playfully waggling your ass up in the air.
You gasp as she ends your teasing short by grabbing slapping your ass hard.
"Mmm, yes, that’s it" her voice is low and sultry as she runs the knife over your ass cheek and down in between your thighs, “Don’t move” she says sternly before lightly grazing the knife over your pussy. Your breathing hitches, careful not to move a muscle.
"You look so fucking hot like this, all spread out and desperate for me," she continues, before leaning down, placing her hands on either side of your head, to bite at your neck and suck on your pulse point leaving an angry red mark.
You watch her through the reflection of the knife beside your head as she leans back up to bite at your earlobe and whisper, "Now beg for me, my little slut. Beg for me to take you."
As she speaks to you in a degrading tone, you find yourself biting your lip in both pleasure and shame. All you want to do in this moment is to surrender to her completely, to give in to her every whim and desire.
“Fuck me….Wednesday. I want you to take me so bad. I want to feel you. All of you. I’m so ready…please.” You wince and pant the words out, her teeth biting down on your shoulder with each word you utter and distracting you.
She pulls back and looks down at you “Good girl” she says before slapping your ass and sliding her fingers in to you without warning, causing you to gasp loudly. Her other hand with the knife resting on the top of your ass to hold you in place.
"Mmm, you're so wet for me," she says, her voice husky with desire as she feels you clench around her fingers. “So wet…and so tight. All for me.” she chuckles slapping your cheek again but harder making you whimper a little.
"But I want to get you even wetter.” She says, before adding another finger and thrusting them inside of you. “I want to make you cum so hard you see stars, mi perdición"
She throws the knife to one side and leans down to your ear again, spare hand now caressing your chest and rolling your nipples between her fingers.
“See..all you had to do was ask”. She scoffs “Well…beg” she plunges her fingers in harder, “and I’ll happily oblige” her breath is hot against your skin.
"You're mine to control, to use as I please. And right now, I want to hear you beg for release." her voice low and commanding as she continues to finger you with increasing speed and intensity.
You nod and bounce feeling your orgasm build and get closer and closer with each thrust from her magical fingers, but it’s not enough.
“I…I want to feel your cock inside of me…please…I need it. I want to cum around it. PLEASE”
She smirks at your desperate plea and slowly slides her fingers out of you so that she can pull her cock out of her pants, her other hand remaining tightly on your hip.
"Mmm, you're so needy for me. You’re so wet, you’re dripping" she says, her voice low and sultry as she positions herself behind you. "But I don’t think you’re quite needy enough" she says, before running the tip of her cock along your slick folds, teasing you with its size and girth.
She starts to rub her cock against your clit, feeling the slickness of your arousal coating her and she can’t help but moan lightly. "Tell me how badly you want me inside of you," she says, her voice growing louder a little with irritation at your lack of reply.
You can’t seem to find the words, you try but they don’t come, instead you whimper to show that you’re still there…barely.
She leans down to bite at your earlobe and whisper softly in your ear, "Beg for it like the little slut you are. Beg for me to fuck you until you can't take it anymore."
You moan loudly as she teases your clit with her hard cock and you can’t help but buck your hips on top of it trying to build up pleasure from the feeling
“I…I….please” you realise you can barely talk, and it comes out as a whisper, you’re so needy and so desperate for her you’re consumed by it.
You know it’s not going to be enough so you clear your throat and try again “Please fuck me, I want you to fuck me so badly. I need it. I’m begging you… please” your eyes begin to well up with tears at your growing anticipation.
You feel her cock twitch against you at the sound of your desperate plea, and she pulls back slightly and slowly pushes her cock inside of you, inch by inch until she’s buried to the hilt.
"Mmm, that's it, that’s my good girl," she says, her voice low and sultry as she starts to move inside of you with slow, deliberate strokes. "You feel so fucking good around me," she murmurs, before leaning down to bite at your neck and suck on the sensitive skin.
She picks up the pace, her hips slamming into yours with increasing speed and intensity. "That's it, take it all," she growls, her voice low and commanding as she uses you for her own pleasure. Her hands wrapping around your waist back pressed against yours, as she leans on top of you rutting her hips above you, her lips next to your ear.
"You're mine to use…” *thrust* “and abuse…” *thrust* “to pleasure” *thrust* “and punish as I see fit.” she leans forward slightly grab your hands from in front of your head and holds them together behind your back, pulling you upwards, lifting your head and chest away from the bed and on to her cock with vigorous force.
“And right now, I want you to cum for me, my little slut," she continues to fuck you hard and fast.
"Show me how much you want it. Show me how much you need to cum for me," she says, her voice becoming more insistent as she feels her own release starting to build.
You can feel your body tensing up, on the brink of orgasm, as she starts to move inside of you with even more intensity, her hips slamming into yours with a loud slapping sound, hitting that perfect spot inside of you just right.
You speak but it comes out in broke breaths “i’m so close…p-please… don’t stop. want to…come for you. need to…come for you”
"That's it," she says, her voice low and commanding as she reaches down to rub your clit with her fingers, rubbing up and down the sensitive bud in a circular motion. "Come for me, my little slut. Let go and come for me," she says, her own arousal building to a fever pitch.
As you start to come undone, your pussy clenches violently around her cock, and she lets out a loud groan as she feels her own release building and spreading through her body.
"Fuck, you feel so good around me" she growls, before starting to move even faster, chasing her own release.
"Cum with me," she says, before finally letting go and cumming deep inside of you, her body shuddering with pleasure as she fills you up with her hot, sticky release. It feels like
Once you’re both spent, she collapses on top of you, her breath coming in short gasps as she tries to catch her breath. "Mmm, that was good," she says, before leaning down to kiss you on the forehead. "But we're not done yet,I have a few more things in mind for us to try."
Can you please write G!P Jenna Ortega x reader where jenna wants to make r pregnant
synopsis: jenna been impatiently waiting til you agree to have a kid, but her patience wore thin
MINORS DNI ᝰ.ᐟ tags: gp!jenna ortega x fem!reader, pet names, dubcon, baby trapping? idk kind of, unprotected sex, breeding
a/n: ykw HELL YEAH im letting her knocking me up anytime she wants
masterlist
this feeling creeped almost naturally. whenever you were simply standing beside her, jenna would admire you — your smile, face, hands, curves, flaws and all. since you’ve been dating for few years now, the feeling of being connected on a new level settled deep inside jenna’s mind, taking a root in her mind.
speaking of taking roots, that’s exactly what she wanted to do with you. the thought of making you swell with her child? deeply arousing. you were a perfect partner, and what else could make her feel on a higher level of relationship if not having a baby with her majestic girlfriend?
she implied on it gradually, without overwhelming you. a coo at a cute chubby toddler there, an ‘aww’ at cute clothes for babies here, a casual conversation about parenthood and kids then… nothing too forward nor the total absence of the topic. jenna would bring up kids theme at least once a day, sometimes even caressing your belly ‘mindlessly’ while you were chatting.
she also peered where you kept your pregnancy control pills and just switched them to dummy ones. does she feel bad about it? totally, a small part of her was gnawing her mind for doing that each day, but she couldn’t bring herself to blame herself when the bigger and more determined part of herself were louder.
you gasp into the kiss, as jenna pulls you down on the soft sheets, her hands mapping out your body. "god, you’re so… perfect. you’d make a perfect mother in the future too." jenna murmured between kisses, as her hands made her work on removing clothes from both of your bodies. you let her, reaching out to nightstand to pop a pregnancy control pill in your hand and swallow it.
jenna let a small smirk tug on her lips as she saw you do that, before adjusting her position between your eagerly parting thighs. she caresses your waist, coming to circle your pebbled nipple, drawing a sigh from your lips, as you intertwine your hand with her free one. oblivious, for you this is no different from countless lovemaking you had with jenna before but for the latter? oh, she’s moving closer and closer to her goal.
once the tip of her cock is inside your scorching heat, jenna crashes her lips against yours and lets out a long moan into the kiss, pushing each inch further inside your pussy. as she bottoms out, her hands caress your abdomen and jenna sets a deep and quite fast pace from the start, "fuck, you feel so good… so fucking good wrapped around my cock." she breathes, just one thought of filling up your unprotected womb makes her rapidly move towards her orgasm but she bites her lower lip to prevent it, wanting to savor the moment. you could only moan and whisper her name on repeat, your own hands move over her body, caressing, touching and urging to be closer, to move faster. your hands moves to rest on her rear, squeezing it and drawing a particularly hard thrust of her hips, "mmm, want me to go deeper, love? oh, you’ll get just that." jenna whispers seductively, indeed picking up the pace and drawing a gasp from your lips.
with each thrust and feel of her hard length inside your heat pushes you closer and closer to relief, as you arch your back and grip onto bedsheets beneath you with your free hand, "jenna… i- i’m close. i’m so close, please…" you whimper, feeling slightly dizzy from sheer sensations. jenna smiles at you plea and leans in to kiss your jawline, as her own peak gets closer. she sneaks her hands between your slick bodies to circle your clit with her thumb, wanting to get you come first, "that’s it, my love. let go, come for me."
you don’t need to be told twice and you feel your organs crash over you like a tidal wave, moaning jenna’s name. jenna herself feels close too, as the feeling of your pussy squeezing her tightly and milking for all its worth sends her over the edge. slamming her hips one last time, jenna lets go and lets her cock pump her hot cum inside your unprotected womb. jenna’s hips jerk, as she makes sure her semen takes root inside your body, she mewls something under her breath, while caressing your lower belly, as if already imagining it swell with the new life that is half you and half her.
eventually, of course, she’ll tell you about the pregnancy pills. but not now. not when you’re both ready for round two, and jenna is ready for countless rounds to make sure you fall asleep this night with new life inside you.
ʟᴏɴᴅᴏɴ’ꜱ ᴄᴀʟʟɪɴɢ. ᛪ༙. jenna ortega x singer!fem!reader
warning(s): angst. mentions of break ups. mentions of reader having a past drug addiction. arguing. cigarettes. etc etc etc
index: in which, your relationship with jenna is on the rocks and you fly all the way to london to try and make it right.
note(s): it’s a long one so buckle in lol.. definitely will be multiple parts to this, it’s a series i’ll link the masterslist when i make one
ib; london’s calling by
plvtinum
THE SUN SHINED, making your face feel warm and fuzzy. your head turned to the side, as your body seated in the black metal chair that had a colored cushion to make it more comfy and fancy looking. you eyes narrowed amongst the city view, and cigarette smoke was taking over your atmosphere.
you still remember your first ever visit to london. you were only fifteen and had sold over millions of copies of your debut, teen-pop, album. you remember the flashing lights of the foreign press that yelled questions at you, that you barely had time to register, let alone answer. the sea of foreign fans, some accompanied by overwhelmed parents.
the way security pushed anyone who got too close. you also remember your manager, scooter, by your side; detailing the first show of your first ever tour. how you would stop to rehearsal first, then check out the stadium, then check into your first ever five star hotel.
you felt so cool back than, overwhelmed, but still, cool. you were only fifteen living the dreams of millions of people, young and old. you had a taste of money, admiration, and hate—the world was all around you and at your finger tips at once.
but just like everything else in the world, the fame, the success, came with its cons.
the type of cons that took away that cool feeling, yet left the overwhelming one.
because here you were, twenty-two and in london but none of it felt the same. you were tired and your body was a little more frail. your heart was heavy, and your mind dragged on. sometimes you wish you’d chose something simple like a doctor or a teacher because maybe then you wouldn’t be where you were now.
in london on the verge of a break up, in six months of recovering from addiction, and other issues brought on by your position in spot light. and it’s not like you weren’t grateful—you were more than grateful to have a enough money to do just about whatever you wanted, but the things people said about and to you. the people who pretended to care about you to get closer to that money. the schedules that didn’t care if you were tired or not.
it’s just a lot. especially when you’ve been dealing with it for so long, eventually you start to break down at some point; because well, you’re only human.
“you’re in london, in a nice ass hotel—one of thee best hotels in london to be correct, and instead of enjoying it, you’re sulking on the balcony, smoking a cigarette.”
you roll your eyes at the voice that seemed to agitate you the moment you heard it, “fuck off.”
“easy tiger,” dom, your best friend and personal assistant steps out onto the balcony, taking a seat next to you.
“i’m just trying to cheer you up, i mean, if she hasn’t responded then she hasn’t responded. what can you do abou—”
“i’m going to her filming studio later.” you say, confidently and a little absent minded.
“y/n, i don’t wanna get in your relationship bullshit but don’t you think that’ll just make her more mad? i mean, that’s her job and—”
you huff, snapping your head in his direction; “i don’t know what else to do! i called her from not only my phone, your phone, but the hotel’s phone too.”
“she won’t answer.” your voice becomes a little quiet, sad desperation taking over your tone.
“and i texted her like a million times…”
“come dude,” he places a hand on your shoulder.
“she’ll come around…let’s just try to at least enjoy some of london while we’re here.”
you purse your lips, eyes going from the view to his pleading eyes, back to the view. your shoulders drop from their tense position, and you take one last huff of the just-about-done cigarette.
“fine.”
“yay! i have a bus tour of the city booked for us already!”
you roll your eyes, this time in humor at the man’s antics.
you both abandon your positions on the balcony, going back inside to your hotel room big enough for an entire family to live, with its own wide living room that included a coffee table, a loveseat and a couch. a kitchen, a bathroom, and of course the bedroom occupied by a king size bed.
that was all for you.
dom’s room, that connected to yours by door was the same, minus the balcony you acquired.
once you both catch a shower, and get a change of clothes you’re already out onto the foreign streets. another cigarette already in your hand with dom’s complaining voice to go along with it.
“eugh, i can’t stand the smell of those.”
“yeah, well look around we’re in europe. everybody’s got a cig in their mouths; even the kids.” you point at a group of teenagers near by, in view of your shade-covered eyes, who seemingly were all sharing a cigarette.
“yeah, they’re over there. away from me and my space, you’re right next to me, blowing that directly in my direction.”
you purse your lips, looking at him for a moment before deciding not to be a complete dick and put it out using the side of a building.
“thank you.”
“you’re wel—”
“y/n!” your name was shouted by some lady who now stood in front of you, phone in hand with the camera app open.
“picture! please?!”
“of course,” you throw on a smile and taking her phone, handing it to dom, who quickly snapped the photo.
the woman didn’t even bothering to say goodbye or thank you, she just ran off all smiley.
“remind me again why we have no security with us, miss international, grammy winning, pop star.”
“because i’m here on vacation. not business.”
“no,” his word drags out. “you’re here trying to fix things with your girlfriend, or is it ex-girlfriend? to be honest i’m confused.”
“well, she didn’t explicitly say we’re over so…i’m hoping it’s still girlfriend.”
he stays silent, continuing to walk beside you, in his own mind worried for you.
in your mind, all you could think about was your last conversation with your supposed girlfriend. the way she screamed through the phone, the way you yelled back. the way she called you an asshole and said you weren’t making time for the relationship or her. the way you called her a bitch and accused her of the same neglect.
the way you could hear her crying through the phone, while you held back your own tears. the way she hung up the phone. and now she wouldn’t answer your texts, or your calls from any other number.
—you had to see her.
if there was one thing you couldn’t lose, or if there was anything good about the spotlight you were in; it was her. that’s how you met her after all, on some red carpet to promote some movie you definitely hadn’t seen or heard of, but your PR team suggested it’d be great for publicity for your new single. she just so happen to be seated at your table for the pre-view screening and the rest was history.
you couldn’t believe that was almost three years ago.
time seemed to be going fast, and not in your favor as these last few months of your fleeting relationship had proved.
you thought your plan to show up to the studio she’s filming at would help. it would show her you really cared, that you flew all the way out here just to make things right with her. but maybe dom was right, maybe it is a bad idea. after all, you two made it a point to try hard as possible to keep the career aspect out of your relationship, wanting things to just feel normal with each other—to be each other’s escape.
than again, this seemed like it was the only choice to get to her.
and that was more than a risk you were willing to take just to talk to her.
“that was so much fun! wasn’t it so much fun? it was so much fun!” dom cheerfully (and annoyingly) exclaimed to you as he stepped off the bus with the help of the tour guide.
you, stepping off right after him: “yes, so much fun.”
“don’t be an asshole! you know i love when we come to london.”
“you only love when we come to london because according to you, everyone guy on grindr here looks like a member of one direction.”
he scrunches his face, “not true…i love the food too.”
you snort, turning back to the man who just gave you guys the tour and hand him a hundred dollar bill.
“where to now? you wanna pick or—”
“how about,” you pull more crisp bills form your wallet, not caring about the amount.
“you go find a hot guy, take him shopping or out to dinner and i go handle my business.”
“you’re so not bribing me right now.”
“i, so, totally am.” you flash a wide smile.
he eyes the money in your hand, then the city, then directly into your sunglasses-covered eyes.
“you’re lucky i know there’s no way i’m stopping you.” he take the money form
your had and your smile wides even more.
“have fun.”
“yeah, yeah” he flags you off, turning to make his way down the sidewalk into the busy city.
you turn your body in the opposite direction, following the trail of ‘quiet’ cafes and small flower shops—which, you make it a point to stop at one of said flower shops, purchasing a rather large bouquet that came wrapped in brown paper with white string tied in a bow around it.
as you walked down the sidewalk, now on a mission to find a cab you got a few stares and even someone shouted ‘i love your music!’ at you. some people even stopped you for photos, not a lot, well besides a group of seemingly college kids that stopped you.
two boys and one girl. one guy was brunette, while the other was blonde, and the girl had pale pink hair.
“ay, mate, can we grab a picture?” the brunette guy speaks up, his accent thick and smooth.
“please? we came to your chicago show a few years back and it was just awesome!” the blonde cheerfully exclaimes, his accent just a broad and just as understandable.
the girl nods her head, “your breakout album is our favorite of all time.”
your eyebrows go up in shock, your breakout album was your second album. released only when you were seventeen and it was a smash hit, just as your first. you’d never admit to the public, but you didn’t enjoy making that album. the label made it clear they were looking for a certain teen-pop sound and that’s just what it was.
you weren’t allowed to write any of the songs on the album, despite being credited for almost all of them. the hours for rehearsals were so brutal and the stupid outfits they made you wear on tour—
“oh, breakout? yea, that was one of my favorites to make!”
“you have,” the brunette drags his words out, emphasizing the have and talking with his hands. “to do an eras tour like taylor swift, i would love to see you perform that album again.”
“yeah, how come you never perform anything from that album? like you did with mind of mine?” the blonde refers to your very first album.
now that one, mind of mine, you did enjoy making.
you were so naive, young, and new to the whole music industry that it was fun. you were allowed to write some songs, obviously they were polished by real writers, but still fifteen year old you got to take you cheesy love songs about your first significant other to the booth; and eventually shown to the whole world.
again, you liked the attention you got. the money you got. everyone from you hometown who laughed and doubted you when you said you wanted to be a singer whenever the teacher would ask “why do you want to be when you grow up?” were now being proved wrong.
—it was just an all around nostalgic album and era for you, before all you bad stuff leaked in and it became a job instead of a dream.
“oh, you know i’ll have to talk to my team about an eras tour—but, how did you guys wanna take the pictures? group or?”
you end up taking individual pictures with each of them, then one group one where the blonde holds the phone up, as he seemed to be the tallest. you bid your goodbyes and quickly find a cab, where luckily the driver didn’t recognize you nor was a fan, making it easier to get the location you so desperately needed to get to.
the hotel you had booked for you and dom was only five minutes from the filming studio; you know this because you had checked prior to even booking the rooms or flights, assuming once you got here you would call your girlfriend and she would agree to meet-up. which, you would surprise her with flowers and all the fighting would just go away.
but it’s clear now that it wasn’t that simple, the cab being twenty minutes from the studio; which wasn’t bad, but it wasn’t five minutes.
you were just anxious and antsy. you were really starting to miss the woman you laid by almost every night. you could barely sleep last night, wishing she were there to rub your back gently as she always did because she knew how much it helped you fall asleep. you missed the smell of her hair, eating breakfast with her, showing her new songs you’d been working on.
your heart became more heavy, aching at more than just the bitterness that filled your relationship lately; but now at the fact that you could loose all the sweetness that contained between you two…that is if you already haven’t.
—the car comes to a halt causing you blink your flying thoughts away.
again, you pull more bills from your wallet as if they grew off a tree, and hand the man at least two hundred dollars before exiting the vehicle.
your heart is beating so fast and loudly it fills your hearts. your palms are sweaty, and your whole body seems to be gently shaking in anxiety. but still, somehow you feet moving forward, people scattered around as they worked on the rather expensive, multi-building set. you seemed fit in as everyone around seemed to be stressed out, running around as they communicated through their headsets.
ok, so you definitely didn’t think this through.
you’re here but you have no idea which set she were at, as they were other shows or movies being filmed in each building.
you sigh, pulling you phone from you back pocket—as soon as you unlock it, the screen is already open to your messaging app.
J❤️
june 15, 2025
12:01 AM
i literally don’t wanna talk to u
you’re acting like this is only fault
you don’t call me all day unless you wanna use my driving service, maybe ppl are right and you’re just using me for money and fame lol
are you serious right now?
i call you all the time but you’re too busy in the studio to answer remember?
june 25, 2025
7:45 AM
you’re ignoring me now?
june 25, 2025
10:09 AM
i went out last night, didn’t see your text
cool.
how’s london?
read 2:13 PM
you scroll, reading for a moment, everything was just arguments or short conversations, then just you practically begging for her to answer your calls. which, you thought sure as some point they would turn green but no, you knew she was definitely getting them but they were all very much blue and said delivered under them.
you contemplated on trying to call her for a second, then you typed and untyped a few text.
you hadn’t realized how long you had been standing in the same spot until some tapped on your shoulder, to which you looked up from your phone.
“yes?”
“uhm…are you supposed to here?”
you pause for a second, your guys going over the guys face. you knew just because you were a big star everyone wasn’t supposed to recognize you, or know who you were, but you gotta admit your ego was a little bruised the cab driver didn’t recognize you, now this crew member too; but nonetheless you digress.
you had bigger things to worry about.
“can you tell me where they’re filming the netflix shows?”
“uhm, you don’t have a badge and i’m not supposed tell—“
you sigh, placing the flowers between your arm and your side so you could pull your wallet from your pocket, in turn was your last two, hundred dollar bills that you indeed mindlessly pull out and wave in front of his face.
“i just need to know which studio number.”
“twelve.” he points straight ahead before easily taking the cash, and getting out of your face.
that should not have been as easy as it was. you thought.
like genuinely, what if you were some crazed fan who wanted to hurt a star or something?
but, good thing you weren’t.
you were just some dumb person in love and trying to save your relationship.
it was a straight walk. a short one runway walk that you could take and be okay: is what you kept telling yourself as you looked forward to the building that had a big white twelve, in bold font painted onto the concrete in front of it.
it should be just that simple, so why were your feet still planted? why did it feel like your hands were so sweaty that would loose the tight grip around the brown paper of the flowers? why did the ringing in your ears that managed to go away for a split second suddenly come back, and louder?
what if she breaks up with you? what if she already had? doubt started to leak into your mind and somewhere inside you wished you were with dom right now, on one of his stupid vacation quest.
but you had made it all the way here, all the way in london, and you couldn’t pussy out now.
step by, slow step, you move your feet. you breathing in shaking and uneven; and you keep switching the flowers from your left to right hand, but still you managed to make it.
you there right in front of one of the many entrances.
all you had to do was open it, go inside, apologize and give her the flowers.
it was sooo easy.
fuck this. i’m y/n y/l/n. i’ve traveled the world and performed in front of millions of people. you try to soothe yourself inside your mind.
i can open this door and talk to one girl.
one, single, girl.
in one motion your swing the entrance open; staff running around, tables of treats and coffee, stunt doubles, extras, all took up the scene. no camera was rolling, everyone either seemed to be getting ready for one or just in between a take.
you hadn’t spotted anyone you knew yet, nor her or at least of her co-workers/friends that you had met on many occasions for things like dinner and karaoke nights.
your eyes searched, so many people swarmed around you weren’t sure which direction to go—not until you spot her co-star and friend, a girl you had met more than anybody else your girlfriend worked beside and befriended.
as if on cue, her eyes land on you, meeting yours as you stare at her; hopelessly, like a dear caught in headlights.
her eyes go wide, and she excuses herself from a stage crew she were in a conversation with.
“y/n? what are you doing here?” she quickly clears her throat, changing her tone. “i mean, i thought you were in LA.”
“hi, emma…i came to talk to her.” you ignore her failed attempt at hiding her obvious dismay for you.
she blinks, “all the way in london?”
you purse your lips, “can you just tell me where she is? i’m not here to start any problems, i just wanna have a conversation with my girlfriend.”
you watch the way her face slightly changes when the word girlfriend leaves your lips.
you’ve never had a problem with emma, because well, why would you? she was one of your girlfriends closest friends, along with being her co-star. whenever she came over to your shared apartment you two shared conversations about film, and mostly other art things. Or anything related to the industry for that matter. in all, you wouldn’t exactly consider her your own friend but she also wasn’t a complete stranger.
but right now?
she were really starting to irritate you.
she goes to open her mouth but it immediately closes it and her eyes narrow, trailing to something or better yet someone that appeared to come in view behind you. tension appeared all over her body langue and you knew exactly who were in stride behind you, you could also hear the clicking of heels.
immediately you turn, now face to face with the girl who held a unreadable look on her face but a clear hollow gaze in her eyes.
“what are you doing here?”
ok, maybe you deserve that but ouch.
“can we talk? in private?” you watch as her gaze seems to travel over your body to the flowers that you were holding onto for dear life in some attempt to soothe your overbearing anxieties.
you really needed a cigarette right now.
she doesn’t say anything, not a word she just turns on her heels and is striding off to where she came from; you assume she’s signaling you to follow her so you do so.
your body seemed to be on fire and your head rushing, you were feeling so many things you felt you could just explode from your nervous system overloading. a part of you was hurt, and a part was angry; and there was was another part of you that was scared.
her lack of affection framed things in a way that you did not like. she didn’t touch you, not a hug or a kiss—hell, she didn’t even take the time to say anything to you, you would’ve rather she’d started ripping you apart off-bat rather than just “what are you doing here?”
and now she has you on her tail like some lap dog? you knew you had a part to play in the way things were going between you two but it takes two to tango—she’s not all innocent.
but you didn’t have time to point fingers and state your grievances—what if she didn’t want to talk at all? what if she were just taking you somewhere private to break your heart and give you back the rather very expensive promise ring you had given her a few months ago?
you can see it now in your head, you going to hand her the flowers before even talking, her rejecting them and placing the diamond ring in your hand before telling you she’s had a enough.
fuck.
“are you just going to stand there or come in?”
“huh?” you snap from your thoughts, seemingly face to face with the girl who were holding open her trailer door open for you.
“my bad.” you utter, stepping up the tiny steps.
you eye her set up, it were mostly clean besides the ash tray laid on the table pairing with a half empty bottle of red wine.
“jenna—”
“what are you doing in london, y/n? let alone my studio.” her arms cross over her chest.
“i came to see you. you weren’t returning my calls or answering my text, i even called your manager and he wouldn’t take my call; and i know how much scott loves me,” you point your finger.
“maybe because all we’ve been doing is arguing and the last time i called you, you called me a bitch,” she throws her hands up.
“or more specifically a selfish bitch!” her voice slightly raises and your drop your head, eyeing her shoes.
“i came to apologize. i didn’t come to fight.”
her mouth opens and closes, she purses her lips and you take the opportunity to continue to speak, lifting your head back up.
“jenna, i—look, i could say a lot of shit right now. i could point out all the things that you’re doing to hurt me, i could say some shitty apology, i—i came here because i don’t want to lose you.”
“i know, i know i spend too much time out partying or in the studio or whatever—and i ignore your calls, i—too be honest i don’t know what’s gotten into me or what’s happening to us but fuck, i can’t lose you.”
you voice cracks slightly, throat burning from the tears that were threatening to come from your eyes.
silence drags as she once again opens and closes her mouth, pursing her lips. it scared you. she had never been this unreadable before. normally you could tell what she was thinking just by the blink of an eye but, right now? in this moment? she were so closed off, standing far and her arms crossed.
she were treating you like she barely knew you and it was breaking your heart.
maybe dom was right.
maybe this whole thing was a bad idea.
“i have a question…and i need you to not get mad when i ask it.”
you shake your head, “okay.”
“i need you to answer honestly,”
you shake your head once more.
“did you—have you relapsed?”
you body jerks, eyes squinting in disbelief.
you remember the first time you ever tried a drug. you were sixteen and hanging around other celebrities, some way to old to be conversing with you but it was a grammy after party, what could you expect?
you were hanging around bodies like kanye west, justin bieber, ariana grande, and anyone else you could think of who belonged in that scene.
you don’t remember exactly how it happened but you ended up smoking weed for the first time that night—and it kind of stuck with you as you bounced through interviews and moved through cities on tour. it started off slow, just a joint before an interview to calm your nerves, no one knew besides dom, he sometimes smoked with you and was sure to keep eye drops on him at all times. then when you went on tour, it became two after a show.
eventually, weed wasn’t enough and somewhere along the lines you started experimenting with harder stuff like pills and powdered white substances. and no one knew, not even dom.
not until one fated night when dom had found you laid out on your penthouse living room floor and seizing.
that was only the start—you begged dom to keep it secret, manipulating him with things like what it could do to your career if it ever got out. you told him you had it under control and you were getting help, which was more than a lie at the time.
you struggled for years.
you would read the awful things people would say about you for hours on end, to the point where it consumed you and than you would turn to substances just to soothe the pain it brought.
it became a cycle that went on and on. even after you had started seeing jenna. though, you made sure to keep it a secret from her as long as you could.
until she was the one who found you, this time you were on your bedroom floor. she had just gotten off the lax and wanted to surprise you, using her spare key to get into your penthouse.
it wasn’t easy but you got clean—for yourself first, but for her second.
“jenna, what the fu—no!”
“don’t start yelling at me.”
“i’m not yelling, but why the fuck would you ask me that? are you serious right now? i told you i’d never do that again! to you or myself.”
she holds her hands up, “you can’t blame me for asking, y/n. you started staying out late like you used to. you stopped answering my calls…i’m—i was worried.”
you drop your body weight onto the couch, tossing the flowers on the table and dropping your head into your hands before looking up at her.
“i—i—i’ve just been working. i can’t say i haven’t about thought it, i mean fuck it’s hard not to see what people say. but i made a promise to myself and to you.”
she moves, sitting on the couch across from you.
“so, what’s happening to us, y/n?” she sounds deflated.
“i don’t know, jenna. i really don’t.”
she doesn’t say anything and silence drags long this time. you stare at her and she stares at you, her eyes averting to things around the trailer than back to you, than back around her. she keeps pursing her lips and hesitating. you have nothing left to say, fighting to the urges to move around the tiny coffe table that divided you two and just have her hold you tight—because well, you really needed it more than anything right now.
“y/n, i love you, i can’t deny that,”
you blink, your body language careful. you were almost scared to move. it felt like eggshells and glass surrounded you and any sudden movement would shatter everything.
warnings: fluff, a lot of teasing, alcohol, shy and dumbass reader, swearing, heavy make out session, slight smut?
AN: i saw this idea on instagram and i saw another idea from a reddit story and decided to combine the two lol
this is internal monologue
—//—
Jenna was the hottest girl you had ever had the pleasure of laying your eyes on. Unfortunately, she was also your roommate. Not that this was bad but she was just a massive tease and this caused you to be in a constant state of gay panic, so it was just unfortunate that you were constantly blushing and stuttering over your words in her presence. She, however, was enjoying every second of it.
It all started about six months after she moved in. You were getting along really well, I mean as well as you could in your panicked state, you guys had regular movie nights, you would bring her her favourite coffee and a pastry every time you came home from work, she would always cook extra dinner for you so you wouldn’t have to cook after a long day, you would do chores together whilst listening to music, etc. Every time she thanked you or did something for you, blood rushed to your cheeks and her tone left you a stuttering mess. It was quite a sight, you being almost a solid foot taller than the brunette and shaking from the chokehold she has on you.
-
The first time Jenna almost killed you (figuratively; even though your heart rate was alarming) was during one of your movie nights. It was Jenna’s turn to pick the movie this time. She was grabbing some snacks from the kitchen when she told you to put on the first movie of the Fear Street trilogy. Already cosying on the couch with the warmest, fluffiest blanket in your collection, you obliged and grabbed the chilly metal remote to fulfil her request. Jenna returned with a bowl of popcorn and two glasses of wine. She put the items on the small table in front of you, moved the blanket so she would be underneath it too, and sat close enough next to you so your thighs, hips, and shoulders were touching. You felt your ears become hot from all the blood rushing to your ears, your cheeks definitely turning a dark red. Jenna acted like she didn’t see anything and leaned forward to hand you your glass of wine, leaning back into the sofa so take a sip of her glass. She smacked her lips and turned to look at you “You can start the movie Y/N/N.” Your eyes widened, realising you had been staring at her lips the entire time, “Oh, y-yeah of course.”
-
Oh well this is it, this is how I’m going to die. The two girls on screen were in the middle of a hefty make out session. Jenna had moved so she was basically half on top of you, stroking your thigh ever since the first 15 minutes went by. You were basically gnawing on your bottom lip, simply biting it didn’t suffice, your entire body heating up from the contact, a thin line of sweat forming on your forehead. You’re sure that your face resembled an overripe tomato at this point. Of course - Jenna noticed and decided that you weren’t close enough to death already.
“Hmm, someone’s enjoying this, aren’t they?” Jenna said with a smirk on her face. The noise you let out was fucking embarrassing. “Well n-no, i-i mean, y-y but n-not -“ Jenna smiled and just moved her hand to your neck to lightly scratch the area there. Your eyes rolled back and you almost let at a moan at the action. The brunettes lips curled up into a soft smirk and let out a hum before turning her attention back to the movie.
-
Everything changed from that moment on, as she became so much more determined to break you. You were in the kitchen taking over the cooking for once, since Jenna had an exam that evening. You weren’t a bad cook or anything, but you liked Jenna doting on you and feeding you every night. You had offered time and time again to let you pay her back, but she’d make some remarks that left you blushing and speechless so the argument would be dropped for that night. Years of experience left you knowing that after a long day, all you want is a nice comforting meal, and you had no issue in coming up with a recipe.
In the oven, a herb and butter rubbed spatchcocked chicken laid roasting next to some ‘smashed’ potatoes. On the stove, rainbow carrots had been blanched and were now getting some nice grill marks from the grill pan. In the fridge, a kind of big bowl of chocolate mousse was already set. You had just pulled the chicken from the oven and were basting carrots when you heard a key slip into the lock, slightly rattling the door. She came inside, kicked off her shoes, put on her slippers and shuffled tiredly into the kitchen. She moved behind you, put her arms around your waist and laid her head against your back while you worked.
You tensed, “H-hi Jenna, h-how did your exam go?”. She nuzzled her nose against your shirt “Hmm, it was fucking long, quickest student in our class took three hours to fill it in, it took me like four, we didn’t get a break so I’m absolutely exhausted. But what you’re cooking smells really, really good.. do you happen to have some extra? I didn’t have time to go to the store yesterday and I-“ You turned around in her arms, “Yeah of course I cooked extra, I wanted enough for us both to eat tonight and even some extra so you can have it tomorrow for lunch.” Now only realising the position you were in, you tried to look literally everywhere else except those enchanting brown eyes. Jenna melted at your words and grabbed your face. She played with the baby hairs in your neck for a bit before dragging your face down, to leave a very slow kiss on your cheek, making sure that her lipstick transferred to your skin. “You’re the best, baby.”
-
You were lying on your bed in pain. Someone spilled a drink at work and when you went to go clean it up, you slipped and fell on your back. The doctor had prescribed you bedrest for at least two days, and your work was lenient and gave you a full week off on top of that. Jenna knocked on your door, a bottle of warming lotion in her hand, she came in when you answered. “Hey Y/N/N, how’s your back? I thought maybe you could use a nice massage to loosen those muscles hmm?” You were lucky that your face was already shoved in your pillow so she wouldn’t see the blood rushing to your cheeks. She straddled your back before you could answer. “Can I take this off?” She asked, pulling at your button-down. “Uh huh” You muffled through the pillow. “No, come on, use your words baby.” You squeezed the pillow covering your face “oh my god, you’re trying to kill me.” “What was that Y/N/N?” “Oh, nothing, I-I mean, yeah you can take it off.”
She pulled off your shirt, which luckily wasn’t buttoned because you honestly couldn’t be bothered with the extra movement, a black sports bra the only thing covering your upper body now, and squirted a dollop of lotion in her hands, rubbing them together to warm it up. “Just relax ok, but let me know if something hurts.” with that she started smoothing her hands across the muscles of your back, barely applying pressure. “How’s this?” Jenna inquired out loud. “T-s exellent, th-nks” You sleepily said, comfort like this had been a rare occurrence. You were asleep within minutes, Jenna’s hands working magic on the aching muscles and offering you a break from the pounding pain.
-
This continued even after your back was better. Jenna came in like once every few days to massage you, every time her hands wandering to more intimate areas of your body, but never actually going there. This session was particularly charged, it felt like a thick cloud of sexual tension hung in the room, almost suffocating you. She had decided that apparently the front of your body needed some alleviation as well. You were slightly propped up on a few pillows, Jenna straddling you while she ran her hands across your upper body. She was getting bolder and bolder every day, and you were on the verge of breaking. She lightly brushed the underside of your breast, seemingly by accident, and you shot up before you could think. Jenna didn’t seem surprised and didn’t even flinch at your sudden movement.
She quirked her right eyebrow up in question when you didn’t say anything for a solid five seconds, staring into her eyes. “Did I hurt you?” She questioned. “Euhm-m, n-no no, you didn’t hurt me.” You decided in that moment that you had enough, and that you had to make a move. You didn’t know how she felt about you and from the outside anyone could see that Jenna was also head over heels for you, but you were rightfully scared. She is your roommate and you would hate to make her feel uncomfortable in her own home by making a move on her. She didn’t respond - her eyes locked onto yours and trying to make you squirm. After thinking about everything for a few seconds you decided on something.
“How about I pay you back for all these massages you’ve given me?” Now it was your turn to see her flustered and wide eyed. This made a smirk play on your lips, finally seeing the effect you had on the smaller woman. Jenna wordlessly agreed by getting off your lap and lying down on her back. “My thighs have been feeling a little sore, maybe you could start with those?” She pondered with something unidentifiable in her eyes.
This girl was actually killing you. With every swipe of your hands, a moan or praise left her lips, making you feel all sorts of things. Before she was wearing some high waisted jean shorts, but she decided that you didn’t have enough room to work with and took them off, now only lacy black panties covering her. Your mouth felt dry. You decided it would be more respectful to look into her eyes than anywhere else, even though you desperately wanted to, but looking into those deep brown eyes almost took away the last shred of resolve you had.
“You know I’m actually feeling some tension at my hips.” She bit her lips whilst making the comment. Your mouth still felt dry as you raked your hands a little higher, squeezing them lightly at your destination. “Here?” You sounded out of breath. “Hmm, no a little higher.” You dragged your hands an inch up, almost reaching the fabric of her panties “Here?” Now you also felt like you’ve ran a marathon, heartbeat going haywire. “Hmm, no, you’re almost there.” Fuck it.
Your fingertips slid under the fabric, following the curves of her body, wrists soon joining by how far you suddenly ran your hands up, taking her hips fully - but gently - in your hands, and gave them a light squeeze. “How ‘bout now?” Jenna replied after swiping her tongue across her bottom lip, the action getting your full attention. “Perfect.” She replied, seemingly innocent eyes staring up at you, but you saw the mischief behind them. You continued staring at each other, your hands squeezing every so often, still “massaging” her of course. You finally saw that she wanted you too, the only thing stopping you this game that she was playing. She licked her lip again and this time you actually cracked.
You moved her hips towards you and practically fell on top of her as you kissed her. It was desperate and fast, Jenna’s hands clawing at your back, neck, shoulders - basically everything and anything she could reach to get you closer to her. Months of pent up sexual tension - and frustration - finally pouring out. Breaths and moans slipping out of your mouths as you finally taste each other. Tongues fighting for dominance, but eventually you give in and let Jenna explore your mouth freely, this also prompted her to flip you over so your back was against the headboard and climb on top of you, grinding her hips against yours.
When she needed air, she moved down towards your pulse point. “You can’t-“ she bit your neck, “believe-“ licked it, “how long” kissed it, “I’ve been waiting for this” and moved her head to kiss your lips again. "I think I can, Jenna." You let out in a short breath.
Hands were quickly roaming to everywhere you both could reach, grabbing at each other just to feel the warm skin you both have been craving for. Jenna was grinding into you, a visible wet patch leaking on your sweatpants, a dark grey trail left behind on the fabric. Your hands grabbed underneath her shirt and bra, rubbing at the soft skin of her back.
The moans she let out were making your head dizzy. Your hands went to her hips to help her speed up her movements. Jenna kept switching between biting her teeth into your neck or throwing her head back in pleasure, like she couldn't decide what she needed in that moment. Her hips started moving erratically, and your sweatpants were almost completely soaked.
Her tempo started faltering and you knew she was close. You increased the grip on her hips and with a few final movements, she collapsed on your shoulder with a silent scream. Her body tensing and relaxing in your hold as she got pushed over the edge.
"Fuck- That was- fuck." Jenna gasped out with exerted breath. And before you could even comprehend it, Jenna's hand snaked in your sweatpants, her fingers collecting your arousal as she slowly started touching you where you needed. "Let me make you feel this good."
-
You woke up to see the room a complete mess. Clothes tossed everywhere, almost all the sheets a bundled mess on the floor, crooked furniture and a halfway closed curtain and it looked like everything on the desk had been knocked over.
It wasn't a bother though. Not when Jenna was cuddling you like this, her chest pressed against you, her legs thrown over yours, and making quite possibly the cutest sounds ever as she snoozed contently.
Summary - Since you slept in Enid’s bed she’s been thinking about it non stop. She can’t get you out of her mind. She’s starting to lose hope. She can’t hide her attraction anymore and It’s starting to weigh down on her. Tonight may change that though.
Warnings - Fluff, tiniest bit of angst, flirting, making out, shy reader, slight teasing, ends with the tiniest bit of smut
A/N - Finally named this! after one of my fav songs. i’m so bad at writing summaries omg - just read below 😪
Ever since that night you’d fallen asleep in Enid’s bed, something in her had changed.
She’d tried not to think about it, the warmth of you curled up beside her, the gentle rise and fall of your breathing, how peaceful you’d looked in her arms, but it lingered in every corner of her mind. She’d memorized the shape of that moment without meaning to. The way your hand had rested, soft and still, against her sleeve. The way her heart had refused to slow, even hours after you’d drifted off.
She told herself it was just a one-time thing, that you’d only needed comfort after the horror movie. But every night since, when she crawled into bed and her hand brushed the cool, empty space beside her, she found herself waiting. Waiting for you to wake. Waiting for your soft voice. Waiting for any excuse at all for you to need her again.
But you never did.
And now, a week later, she was starting to lose hope. The weight of it pressed on her chest in ways she couldn’t explain. A quiet, unspoken ache that came from wanting something she shouldn’t.
Time passed like nothing had changed, but everything had. You sat together in class, trading quiet smiles over passed around notes, your knees brushing under shared desks. You walked beside her through the courtyard each morning, the chill biting at your cheeks while she pretended not to notice how much she liked the sound of your laugh in the cold air. You ate together in the dining hall, you studied side by side, and every night, like clockwork, you ended up next to her, a movie humming softly on her laptop, fairy lights painting the walls in gold. And every night, like clockwork, you’d leave her side, slipping into your own bed as she lay in the dark staring at the ceiling.
Tonight it was the same routine. Shadows pooled in the corners of the room, heavy and still, as the laptop’s pale glow stretched across the bed in soft, muted golds. Enid sat beside you, close yet distant, her spark dimmed in a way that made your chest ache, her shoulders curving slightly inward as if carrying some quiet burden.
The space between you felt tight, heavy, intimate in a way that was almost suffocating. There was something about her tonight that felt different, a subtle quiet around her that didn’t belong, as if she were elsewhere even while sitting right beside you.
You noticed it in the little things. She would pause a beat longer before responding, her hands idly fiddling with one of her pink cushions, her shoulders slumping ever so slightly. Not enough that anyone else would notice if they were here, but enough for you to.
You tucked your knees closer to your chest, pulling the blanket a little tighter around yourself. The familiar comfort of the sheets couldn’t quite keep the unease from settling in your chest. And when you glanced at her, the unease grew.
She wasn’t watching the movie at all. Her eyes weren’t even on the screen. They were fixed somewhere on the keyboard, distant, unfocused, like she was somewhere far away.
“Enid?” you asked softly.
Her head flicked up at your voice, eyes catching yours for a brief second before darting away again.
You tilted your head, soft concern etched across your features. You didn’t press, didn’t want to push, but you didn’t look away either. Instead, you let your gaze linger, the faintest hint of a pout touching your lips, almost imperceptible, just enough that she noticed. Just enough that she felt it. And just like that, her attention was drawn entirely to you.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” she said lightly, a little too clipped, too practiced. Her lips curled into a tired half smile, but her eyes didn’t seem to get the memo.
“I’m okay.” she murmured again, softer this time, but the lie clung stubbornly to the edges of her words.
“Enid…” you whispered, your voice barely audible, almost questioning. “Are you mad at me? Did I do something wrong?”
She flinched in a way that made your stomach twist, then immediately softened, the tension leaving her posture. Her hand reached for you, brushing a loose strand of hair back from your face with the gentlest touch. “No, you didn’t do anything wrong,” she said, her voice low, deliberate, careful. “I’m just… tired.”
You blinked, small and hesitant. She was trying to get rid of you, you were sure of it. “Then… you should go to sleep.”
And as she watched you reach for the corner of the blanket she froze for a moment, as if the thought of you leaving was sharper than she expected. The idea of being alone, even in the safety of her own bed, pressed uncomfortably on her chest.
Without thinking, she let the words tumble out, barely audible:
“Stay…please.”
Her words hung in the air, soft and tentative, almost swallowed by the quiet of the room. You blinked, letting them settle. For a moment you just stared, letting the simple request wash over you, your fingers tightening on the edge of the blanket.
Even in that brief, suspended moment, a quiet weight pressed against Enid’s chest. You didn’t speak, and the silence, so fleeting, almost imperceptible, made her begin to panic. Her jaw felt tight, teeth pressed together unconsciously, and her stomach churned with a nervous flutter, twisting her insides as if punishment for sounding so desperate.
Then a soft giggle finally escaped your lips, shy and bright, and you tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, feeling your cheeks warm under her gaze. The small crease between your brows softened as a gentle sigh of relief slipped out with your words, and your shoulders relaxed almost imperceptibly.
“Is that what you wanted all along? Is that why you were sad?” You grinned playfully, joking, but daring to look at her, her eyes serious and you realised it wasn’t. You cleared your throat quietly “I… I wanted to ask. I just didn’t know if—”
Her lips curved into a teasing, familiar smile, that spark of mischief returning in an instant. “Shut up…” she teased softly, still low enough that it made your cheeks pink “and get under the covers.”
You grinned and obeyed immediately, sliding closer into the blankets, curling slightly against her side, no space between you this time. The tension that had been quietly humming between you seemed to gather under the fabric, electric and alive. As you shifted, her thumb brushed lightly along the sensitive skin of your neck.
You shivered slightly, barely audible, and she paused, looking at you with concern.
“You okay roomie?”
You nodded, cheeks heating, clutching the blanket closer, the smell of her floral perfume making you relax further. Her thumb resumed its light, teasing trace down your neck, just enough to make your chest flutter, but careful, respectful, not overbearing.
The movie played on quietly as you grew sleepy, curling tighter against her. Your voice, soft and almost hesitant, drifted out: “Enid…”
“Yes, sweet girl?” she murmured, voice low, warm, and full of attention.
“I… can you… play with my hair? It… helps me relax.” Your words were shy, almost confessional, and you buried your face slightly into the pillow.
She chuckled softly, brushing her fingers again through your hair. “Helps you relax, huh?”
You nodded, small and shy, pressing closer. She smiled, brushing her fingers carefully through your hair, her thumb brushing along your neck once more in that teasing, gentle rhythm.
“Alright…” she murmured, voice soft and steady.
“Well if it helps you relax then I guess I’ve got to take one for the team.” She shrugged playfully and clicked her teeth together, earning a small giggle from you, and it was like music to her ears.
You sighed contentedly and your eyes locked for a moment, hesitant but drawn, and it was just you two, and that fragile flicker of hope neither of you dared say out loud.
Moments passed before she spoke again.
“So pretty.” She smiled, as soft as ever, fingers tracing your hairline.
“Enid…”
“What?” She questioned, as if she had no clue how crazy she was making you.
Your breath hitched before you could stop it. You tried to look away, but her voice caught you, barely above a whisper.
“Hey.” she said. “Look at me.”
You did. Slowly. The tiniest motion, but it felt like everything shifted with it.
Her eyes searched yours, bright and uncertain. “Am I making you nervous?” She murmured softly, and you wanted to put your mouth on hers so badly.
You swallowed, unsure if it was safe to answer, unsure if she was just poking. “Maybe.” you whispered.
Enid’s smile faltered, but only to make room for something gentler, something that looked a lot like longing. She brushed another stray piece of hair from your cheek, her fingers hesitating just at your jaw, as if testing the air between you.
Your lips parted slightly, almost involuntarily, as if the air itself was charged, waiting for hers to meet yours. You wanted to speak, to tell her how impossibly close this felt, how every gentle motion of her hand and every soft glance left your chest aching, but no sound came.
“It’s okay.” she whispered, leaning in towards you.
She gave you all the time to pull back, but you didn’t. Her lips met yours lightly, soft and strawberry scented. You froze, heart hammering, cheeks aflame. Her hand cupped your cheek, thumb tracing your jaw, steady and warm.
You exhaled shakily, melting into her. The kiss deepened slightly, careful, teasing. Her fingers brushed your hair, one hand resting lightly on your back. You whimpered softly, shy and flustered, clutching her shirt as her tongue grazed your bottom lip lightly.
When she pulled back you could almost see how long she’d been holding back. Her lips shimmered slightly in the moonlight, her blue eyes luminously gazed down at you so softly and her face glowed as if the stars themselves had been leaning in, waiting for her to reach this moment.
Her hand rested on your thigh, light at first, almost casual, but then she pressed just a little, enough to make the muscles tense under her touch. You let out a soft whimper, breath hitching, and the corner of her mouth quirked in that mischievous way that always made your heart skip.
“Y/N.” she murmured, low and deliberate, her thumb grazing over your skin in slow, teasing circles. She wondered how on earth she was able to keep herself together, or at least look like she was.
“Mhm.” you breathed, barely coherent, letting your own hand find hers and rest atop, giving her permission to take it further. Her fingers squeezed slightly tighter, careful, and it sent a rush straight through you.
“I ever tell you how pretty you are?” she asked, voice dipping just enough to make your pulse stutter.
You tilted your head, smirk tugging at your lips, eyes sparkling with affection, driving her wild. “Only every day,” you murmured, letting the words tease her back, daring her just a little.
Her laugh was quiet, husky, and she leaned closer, her lips floating over yours, breath warm.
“Prettiest girl in the whole world.”
Without waiting for more, you closed the distance, pressing into her with a soft, hungry kiss. Her hand tightened on your leg instinctively, and you shivered against her, eyes fluttering closed, heart racing. Every subtle press of her fingers, every teasing brush of her lips, made you wonder, briefly, how you’d ever doubted that this existed between the two of you.
hii <3 can you write a one shot of wednesday addams x reader with words of affirmation love language and even though wednesday sucks at vocalizing affection/reassuring people, she really tries her best 😭 🫶🏻
The Last Beat of My Heart
· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·
Masterlist
Gn!Reader
Summary -- 5 times Wednesday ignored your I love yous and 1 time she makes up for it.
Word Count -- 1.8k
Warnings -- ooc! Wednesday. like not terribly ooc but definitely a little.
A/N -- My first 5 + 1 fic!!!! I hope you like it :)
Song -- The Last Beat of My Heart by Siouxsie and The Banshees
—
“I told you to bring a jacket.” She scolds, watching you shiver as she leads you down to the lake. It’s the middle of the night in fall, and the temperature is already in the forties. Of course, when she told you that, you thought it was just an overexaggeration, you tend to stay inside past sundown.
“I know, but I thought I’d be able to handle it.” She rolls her eyes and stops, setting the bag she was holding down and grabbing your jacket out of it before handing it to you. You look at it puzzled. “Is that my jacket?”
“Yes. I figured you wouldn’t bring it. So I packed it in case. Now take it before you freeze to death, I won’t let you die on our date. Save it for afterwards.” You smile.
“You’re too sweet. I love you.” She shoves the jacket towards you once again, and you take it, your smile faltering just a second at the lack of response to your affection, but you let it slide, thinking she must not’ve heard you.
2. —
This had to have been the worst cold you’ve ever had in your life. You’ve been coughing every minute since you woke up, sneezing in between the coughs, and sweating while simultaneously being the coldest you’d ever been. This was your own personal hell.
At first, you tried to go to class, but the second Wednesday saw you waiting outside, her face contorted into a sneer.
“You look half dead.” She observes.
“Gee, thanks.” You say sarcastically, your voice scratchy, before coughing into a tissue.
“Why are you here? Go to the infirmary. Now.”
“I can’t, we’ve got botany this morning. And—“ You sneeze. “I hardly understand what we’re learning—“ You sneeze, again. “right now anyways.”
“As admirable as it is to put your education above your health, I will not be complacent in you passing out, so come.” She places her hand on the small of your back and guides you down the hall to the infirmary. You wanted to argue, you really did, but you were so exhausted.
Three days later, you were feeling much better, so you finally returned to class, botany being your first again much to your dismay. You sat down at your desk beside Wednesday with a frown plastered on your face.
“I’m going to impale myself on my pencil.” You
murmur.
“Don’t tempt me with a good time.” You roll your eyes.
“You’d be sad if I died, don’t even try to deny it.” You open your notebook and furrow your brows. Notes from the two classes you had missed were written down neatly in pen, there were even bullet points of the most important topics from each lesson. “What the hell?” You glance at Wednesday. “Did you do this?”
“Yes?” She asks, unimpressed.
“Why?”
“You always take notes.” She replies. Your heart swells.
“You never take them, though.”
“But you do.” You smile.
“What a softie. Thank you, I love you.” You place a kiss on her cheek.
“Do that again in public and you’re sitting with Ajax next class.” You roll your eyes. Once again noticing her lack of response to your I love you. You wonder why she didn’t respond, but your thoughts are quickly interrupted by the class starting.
3. —
Doing your homework was going pretty peacefully until a knock at your door tore you away. You opened it and immediately grinned when you saw Wednesday standing there, your smile faded into confusion when seeing the creepy doll that looks eerily like you in her hands, though.
“Hi, Weds… what’s that?” You ask, moving to let her in. She walks in and shuts the door as you return to your messy desk.
“A gift for you.” She sets the doll down on your window sill, looking at it with complete satisfaction.
“Awh, thank you Weds.” You walk over and kiss her cheek. “Where’d you get it? It looks just like me.”
“From the scalper’s basement.” Your eyebrows shoot up.
“The scalper? As in the serial killer you’re obsessed with?”
“It’s not an obsession. I just admire his work.”
“Wait— don’t tell me you’re the reason he was finally caught..” She says nothing, which is yes in Wednesday speak. “Wednesday! That’s so dangerous!”
“No more dangerous than facing a hyde. Now appreciate your gift before I burn it and you.” She says with a glare. You roll your eyes but put an arm around her shoulders and bring her in for a hug anyways.
“Thank you, love. I love you.” You place a light kiss on her lips. She quickly pulls away.
“Make sure to brush the doll’s hair. It’s made out of human hair. Goodbye.” She turns and leaves in a hurry, leaving you in the dust. You frown immediately. No I love you too, no kiss back… Were your feelings too much for her? You’re flooded with doubts within seconds.
4. —
You’ve been working at Uriah’s Heap for about three weeks and though the money was good, the work sure wasn’t. Today, you spent three hours combing the taxidermied rodents and dusting off the reptilian bodies that lined the back wall. If you had to spend another second around something dead, you were going to become the next product.
It was late by the time you got back to Nevermore, so it was a surprise to find Wednesday sitting on your bed with a book.
“Wednesday? Why aren’t you in bed?”
“I am? I’m reading.” You roll your eyes playfully.
“I meant your own.” You set your bag down on your suddenly very clean desk and pause. “Did you organize my desk?” You look at your girlfriend, still buried in her book, and notice that your whole room was cleaned and organized. “Weds?”
“I couldn’t relax in the chaos and I wanted to read.”
“And your room didn’t work?” You ask with a smile.
“Is it a crime to wait for one’s partner in her room nowadays? We used to spend every Thursday night together. I don't see why you working has to change that.”
“It doesn’t. I just didn’t expect you to wait up for me, is all.” You walk up and kiss her forehead. “I’m going to take a shower, but I’ll be quick, promise. I love you!” You wait for her response for a moment, but upon realizing you weren’t going to get one, you frown and go to the bathroom without another word.
It’s all you can think about during your shower, and when you get in bed with Wednesday. Not to mention the next morning, afternoon, and evening, and every second after that, too. Your doubts have started to consume you.
5. —
One of your favorite activity as of late has been proofreading Wednesday’s novel. It’s unnecessary as she proofreads just fine on her own, but it is nice that she finally trusts you enough to let you do it. You know it’s partly because she’s been rejected by so many publishers, but you don’t care.
Currently, you lay on Wednesday’s bed as she types at her desk, you’ve finally gotten to the part where Viper goes to a boarding school and meets her annoyingly sunny roommate, Evelyn. And just a few pages after, Cielo, a girl who is described as radiant and confusing, is added, too.
As you read on, it’s very clear to you that Cielo is you. Hung on the word radiant, you get up and bring the manuscript over to Wednesday, pointing out the adjective.
“Radiant huh?” She just glares at you.
“It’s my writing time, Y/N.”
“Don’t care! You added me into your book and then you called me radiant!” You place a hard kiss on her cheek, leaving slobber behind and making her raise her lip in disgust. “I love you.”
“Get that off my cheek. Now.” You frown, but reach up and wipe off her cheek anyways.
“Thank you, now if you’ll excuse me I would like to continue my writing.” You falter for a moment, but go back to her bed and continue reading the hurt in your chest almost palpable. You couldn’t even read the words on the page, so after five minutes, you stand up, pretending to check your phone.
“Hey, uh, Weds? I have to go. Yoko needs help with a project.” You place the manuscript on her desk and grab your bag from the floor.
“Must you leave so soon?”
“Uh, yeah. Sorry.” You walk out, tears bubbling up, and rush to your dorm where you completely break down.
+1. —
You sit out of classes the next day, ignoring the knock at your door in the morning which you’re sure is from Wednesday. You wallow in your confusion and hurt until after dinner when Thing taps on your window.
“What are you doing out there, Thing?” You ask as you open it for him. He does a few gestures and points to the door. “She’s here now?” He nods. You drag your hands over your face with a groan. “Guess it’s time to face the music.” You walk over to the door and open it. Wednesday immediately walks in.
“Are you sick? Why weren’t you in classes today? Where have you been?”
“I just didn’t feel like going, I stayed in bed.” She furrows her brows.
“Then why didn’t you answer your door when I knocked earlier?” You scoff.
“Like you care.” You walk over to your desk and sit down, refusing to meet her eyes.
“Where’s that coming from?” You sigh.
“You never tell me you love me! Even when I tell you, you just ignore it and move on. I get it if you don’t feel the same anymore but I wish you’d just stop stringing me along if that’s it.” You say, voice wavering. There’s no response for a moment, until Wednesday walks over and turns the chair you’re sitting in to face her.
“Y/N, I warned you when we got together that our relationship would never be a normal relationship. I do not express my feelings with my words but that does not mean I do not feel what you feel. In fact I may even feel more.” You slowly reach her eyes which are full of concern. “I would hang the moon for you. I would kill for you. I would die for you. I would sit through unending torture for you. I love you.” Tears fall from your eyes, which you quickly wipe away. “If you need me to vocalize that more, I will. Because I will not ever let you go, and the day that you do is the day I die.” You smile softly, tears falling freely now.
“Really?” She rolls her eyes, but cusps your face with her hands, you immediately lean into the touch.
“I wouldn’t lie to you, Y/N.” She places a soft kiss on your lips.
“I love you more.” You lean your forehead against her chin.
that reminds me what if miko gets jealous of her own character in the book - like after being intimate you test the waters talking about how the fox character in the book seems a lot more sweeter than your dear wife teasing miko and playing her own game - only for her to then nip at your neck and let you know you might be exhausted but she isnt only if your up for it
she also probably wants to prove herself a bit maybe so she might actually be slow and deep and maybe a bit sensual which just seems a bit rare for someone who loves teasing others and seeing their reactions - she needs to see you crumble away more for her compared to some character in a smut novel still based on you but oh well sometimes you cant take the possessiveness and jealousy out of a fox
LMAO only Miko would get jealous over a fictional character that SHE created. “You know…the Fox lady is a lot sweeter to her wife than you,” you pout after Miko leaves a fresh hickey on your neck yet again. “She’s rough, but she still treats the Bunny like a little lady.”
“Do I not treat you like a lady already?” Miko smiles and raises your palm to her snout, giving it a sensual lick.
“Well yeah, but the Fox doesn’t bite her Bunny until she bleeds.”
“Hm.”
Miko hums at that, ears flickering with disdain. The Fox does this, the Fox does that. Well, you know what Miko can do that the Fox can’t do? Satisfy you because the Fox is nothing more than words on a page. “Maybe in volume 6 I should make the Fox be a bit meaner, hm? More sinister and cruel to her little Bunny?” She growls and licks a stripe over your ear, clearly frustrated as she claws at the pillow you laid on. “Then you can see just how nicer your wife is compared to her.”
It’s cute to see Miko all huffy over a character, tail swishing with envy. She is a bit fed up with how much you compare her to the Fox, when the Fox is supposedly based off of her. “You want me to treat you gentler, my dear? Tsk…if it will get you to stop yapping about her.”
While you were merely teasing about her being meaner than her fictional counterpart, Miko takes her words seriously and goes nice and slow with you. It’s the first time in a while she is gentle with you and the experience is something quite unique. Perhaps once Miko sees how relaxed you are after the gentle sex, she realizes she doesn’t need to be so rough all the time.
“Hmm…you were quite reactive despite my tortoise’s pace, little one.” Miko’s ear twitches with curiosity, and just like before, she is inspired. “This would make a lovely chapter.”
literally had to stop myself from writing anymore about her, i’m so in love with her.
she acts like she’s so annoyed that you keep “borrowing” her clothes but won’t admit that she loves it and everything looks ten times better on you.
her love language is physical touch but she doesn’t like when you notice her touching you because it makes her nervous.
“what were you doing?”
“uh… nothing.”
let’s you sit in her lap and vice versa. she just plops down and does whatever and you do the same. the comfort of having each other in your space is perfect.
when she got burned you kissed her scars every day and every night until she felt better about having them.
takes pictures of you in at weird angles and tries to convince you that it looks good while you just whine telling her to delete it.
has a folder in her phone dedicated to you and labels which ones are her favorites.
she has a resting bitch face so she has to reassure you every five seconds while on a date that she’s having a great time.
lets you style her hair whenever she feels like it’s gotten boring.
she manspreads like crazy and has no shame about it either, when you tell her she’ll roll her eyes and close her legs for like 10 seconds then revert.
anxious to go to the gym by herself and begs you to come with her and when you don’t oblige she’ll pout knowing it gets you weak.
she’s not letting her hair grow out anymore so she gets you to cut it because in her words “you do a decent job.”
doesn’t give you direct compliments and instead hints at whatever she wants to tell you because she gets nervous.
using you as “equipment” when she works out,like letting you sit on her back or wrapping your legs around her waist when she’s doing pull ups.
if there are group projects in one of her classes she’ll opt to do it by herself and get you to help her instead.
only wears sport bras and sweats in the house.
never directly kisses you on the lips even when she really wants to, so you’ll always wait until the third peck on the cheek to actually kiss her.
gets irritated so easily but once she sees you her body releases all tension and she calms down.
madly in love with you but people would think she hates you.
started gaining muscle rapidly and it scared you but you liked it so it motivated her to work out even more.
-> i am not even gonna pretend this isn’t completely self indulgent. implied fem-ish reader but no pronouns or desc given. jujutsu college au ?
1 billion percent calls you “sweetheart.” it’s in an ironic sense at first, like she’s teasing you, but once you’re locked in she means it genuinely
you have automatic access to all her shit,,,,,except she never explicitly tells you this ? you stay the night with her one time and complain about not having your clothes or something else you might need and she just gives you the most blank stare ever.
“just borrow mine??”
and not just her clothes but literally almost anything she owns she would willingly hand over to you
same vein: she loves sharing food with you. whatever she’s having, she’s offering you a bite or sip. she’s a giver at heart i think <3
she’ll order your food for you and such if you get nervous doing so ! she’ll hold your hand if you’re feeling brave and decide to do it yourself too.
she definitelyyyy kicks in her sleep 😭😭 if you’re smaller than her (maybe even if you’re not) she usually sleeps farther down on the bed holding your waist with her face in your back/stomach so you’re less in kick-range
she’s kind of touchy but in a casual way ? like she loves to hold your hand or link pinkies, she always rests her hand on your leg when you sit by her, leans against you when you stand close by, etc like always a hand on you
she also likes when you use her as a leg rest. if you’re sitting together, she’ll pull your legs up on top of hers like a weighted blanket ^
she responds to your texts IMMEDIATELY 👏 everyone else gets left on delivered foreverrrr like she’s so slow at answering anyone else but not you. you need an answer quick? she’s already sent it. and she’s not even someone who’s always on her phone so you never know how she gets back to you so quick (it’s bc she has a special ringtone for you) but she does !
she has MASTERED the art of the deadpan stare and slight eyebrow quirk if you say some dumb / corny shit to her. she is neverrr gonna let you know she lives for that shit in secret she is taking that to her GRAVE (you will eventually find out and never let her live it down)
one of her primary love languages is physical touch but in unconventional ways. like she loves to pinch your nose gently or lightly flick your forehead. she also likes to play-fight with you sometimes but she’s probably a lot stronger than you and so she has to be careful with you LMAO
getting her off of you in the mornings is impossible. her body is so heavy with muscle and when she sleeps, she is knocked tf OUT like a mf ROCK. her body is limp and unless you’re like extremely buff you are not getting up until she does (and she’s a dozer, she’ll sleep til noon if uninterrupted)
she likes taking candids of you, even if you look “bad” in them. her phone wallpaper is probably a blurry picture of you laughing or a still of you asleep against her in bed. she thinks you’re at your most beautiful when you’re not worrying about what you look like 🩷
MAKIMA X GN!READER(because I like to overthink instead of sleeping :D)
First, a piece of information : I'll refer to Aki, Power, Denji, Makima and you as "The whole team" or "the group", for easier writing.
/!\ established relationship /!\
random thing : the moment the whole team is gathered in a place, even in an office, or during missions, you can't help but laugh every time Denji and Power are up to something or being their chaotic selves, to which they seem pretty pleased. Their shenanigans or complaints always have you giggling or chuckling, something that doesn't go unnoticed for Makima, who ends up laying a soft and affectionate gaze on you. Though she always manages to make them discreet and quick, so she can tease you later on.
random thing #2 : During the group's small trips around Japan, expect Makima to always find a way for both of you to get your personal chamber for the vacation time, while the 3 others got their own, to Aki's displeasure, who now has to deal with them, even on vacation. This gets you two to spend your free time together, much to Denji's despair who can't understand Makima would choose to kill time with you rather than him.
random thing #3 : On your days off, you both decided to stop at a nearby park to walk to the dogs to. It might not count as a date, but that doesn't matter to you as you can enjoy your time together. It often ends with Makima reading a book on a bench while you watch the pack of huskies out, play with them, and get trampled as soon as one of them leaps on you, its tail wagging. As your partner turn her gaze towards you on the ground, crushed by the dogs' wieght, she can't help but chuckle, as you plea for her to call her pets, claiming you're currently dying.
.....
Laying on the couch in her appartement, completely worn out after a long day, you're enjoying a good book you've been hoping to finish.
However, tiredness was quick to take over you, and it didn't take long for you to fall asleep.
After around an hour, you start to feel something heavy gently placed on your body, with some somewhat discrete noises of tidying up around the apartment, and the feeling of something rigid and kinda damp on your cheek, waking you up. Only to be met with a husky's face, its tail wagging and its head tilted to the side.
Fortunately, you're fast to recognize one of Makima's dogs, and that it put its muzzle against your cheek. Still lying on the couch, you fondly smile and gently raise your hand to scratch the husky's head.
You finally manage to find the source of the heat that was bugging you when you woke up, noticing a pitch of dark jet in your vision. Despite sleep invading your mind, you know what this is : Makima's long black coat. Taking a guess, she must have been home for a moment now. This view makes the fondly smile on your face grow even more, your cheeks slightly painted with pink.
Choosing the enjoy the warmth a little longer, you close your eyes back, butterflies in your stomach, gripping the coat like you were holding onto life, out of happiness, and as a way to hold yourself back from screaming out of happiness. That is....until you hear Makima's steps getting closer to the couch, and feel her hand softly running through your hair. Which makes your heart beat even faster, and your face even pinker. Even if you try to keep your cool and act as though you were still asleep, you're perfectly aware it takes much, much more than that to fool her, even for something this meaningless.
You can hear her light chuckle, as you can guess she has for sure noticed your blush becoming deeper.
It forces you to open your eyes with a sigh and a defeated smile. You lift your head up a bit to put your forehead against hers, your visage now entirely red. To which she responds with a gentle expression, stroking your cheek with her thumb. If you thought you weren't initially dying from her little signs of affection, now you are.
No words spoken. Not a single sound. Just plain quiet for both of you to enjoy.
_________________________________________
I just put HCs and a bit of scenario cause I didn't know where to put them...
can we get a yoru x f/non-binary reader which doesn't end with the reader getting turned into a weapon (also with a little asa sprinkled in)
Love Yoru and Asa, but I dunno how much romance is actually in this thing. It's pretty long compared to my usual word count, so I don't know how spread out it could be or if things are rushed.
Anyway...
⊹ ࣪ ˖ Conflict of Interests ˖ ࣪⊹
Love Asa and Yoru and imo both need more love, but specifically Yoru.
➸ Yoru + !Neutral!Reader, Asa + !Neutral!Reader
➸ Word count; 3849 words,
➸ Warnings for gore, because this is CSM and it's Yoru. No spoilers (that I know of)
➸ Aside from the gore, I don't believe there are any other content warnings either. Don't know how well this flows because none of my work is beta read and I was also losing motivation by the end of this because I cranked this out in about two or three hours.
All things considered, you were adapting to your new life in Japan pretty well. At least, it felt like it.
Communication wasn't an issue, which was a relief - Neither was money, but your biggest problem so far was being directionally challenged. It complicated your routine to the utmost degree, and what was supposed to be a simple shopping trip had taken more than three hours because somewhere along the way you'd taken a wrong turn. Which was why, in your current moment, you were wandering aimlessly around the backstreets of Kyoto, meandering closely to the nearby high school. Silent as it was at the current hour, it still felt weird knowing that if you never left home, you'd probably be stuck in a building like that for hours on end.
You weren't though, and you were also lost. Which seriously wasn't fun, especially when you had a younger brother at home left unsupervised.
What was even less fun, though, (besides the thought of a rouge twelve-year-old boy) was the lack of people around you. Sure it was late, school was finished and the teenagers had cleared the food stalls and vendors and had already gone home, but it wasn't late enough that people would be tucking up in their homes already. The sun was still peaked beyond the horizon, casting pale light amok the city - The streetlights weren't even on yet, and yet the roads were emptier than a bucket with a hole in the bottom.
You weren't sure if that should make you feel relieved, or even more anxious than you already were.
Your first thought was a devil attack. They were common enough, and although the living embodiments of fear preferred more public areas (more fear to feed on, you assumed?) that didn't mean the weaker devils didn't slink around alleys like shifty cats when the darkness fell. And it was that thought exactly that kept you from calling out for help.
It was certainly a nerve-wracking thought, that was for sure, and a part of your new life that you weren't ever sure you were going to get used to. At least back home, devil attacks weren't nearly as common as they were 'round the streets of Kyoto. Sure, you'd go through attack drills like any other school, but luckily for you, you'd never had the misfortune of meeting one face-to-face on the streets. You couldn't even imagine the pure terror you might feel in that scenario - The pungent fear, the visceral pounding of your heart in your ears, the fight-or-flight instinct failing to kick in, maybe even the sickening, cloying stench of iron blood swarming your nose-
Huh. That wasn't good.
That sickly sweet, cloying iron scent of blood was swarming your nose.
You froze, rounding the corner, feet rooted to the ground. You almost flinched at the wet squelch that met your shoe instead of the steady tap against worn, greening concrete. Didn't have to look down to know that pools of blood were lapping seamlessly on your brand-new shoes. You didn't know what made you wince more, the price of the now ruined shoes, or the feeling of pungent fear that struck you at the unsightly view of bulging intestines flung around the wider street in front of you.
Gross - Disgusting. There was no immediate threat, you deduced after a second or two of not being attacked. No, the devil that made this mess (inadvertently or otherwise) was sprawled in the middle of the street, gangly, twisted, fuzzy and bulbous body blocking the road like the world's most horrific barricade. It wasn't moving, fur clogged with blood and flesh and guts only wavered with the faint breeze, but its sides didn't heave like it was breathing, although you weren't entirely certain that devils had to breathe. 'It could still be a trap' Was the thought that bullied its way to the forefront of your mind, and yet you still couldn't find it in yourself to move.
For the first time in what had to be a good long while since you'd left the store, you saw someone else. At first, your heart froze as the bee-like body of the devil shuddered and shook - It rolled onto its side, spilling more of its entrails onto the path. They slithered up to you sluggishly, like a trash heap toppling over, but the insectile face filled with jagged and snaggled teeth was blank as ever. There was no life behind those eyes, but you were more focused on the girl who'd effortlessly posed herself atop the body of the beast.
She wore a school uniform, you noticed, paired with an otherworldly cutlass held firmly in her right hand. The world around the two of you was eerily silent, ear-splitting and ringing in your mind. You clutched your bags a little tighter, the plastic crinkling, rustling ever so slightly in your fist.
The hunter whipped around to face you - She couldn't have been much older than you, but her darker hair framed her face fiercely, fire-ringed eyes glaring you down with such hostility that it almost gave you whiplash. She didn't budge from her spot, but her shoulders drew up tightly as she held her weapon in front of her defensively.
You just blinked - The smell of blood wasn't as pungent as when it first hit you, settling over you like a blanket. You just lifted your shirt, covering your nose as you waved the brooding, mysterious and most likely murderous stranger over to you. From where you stood, you could see the way she froze, face twisting from a scowl into confusion, before the crisscrossing scars on her face literally melted into her own skin, leaving her in perfect condition.
The sword clattered mutely against what looked like a misshapen lung, and the girl set her foot down firmly against the joint of a broken leg. It gave out immediately, and you could only watch as she yelped and tumbled haphazardly from the corpse into a pool of blood. The aura she'd been carrying up until that moment disappeared the second she looked up at you again. Her eyes no longer glowed like red-hot embers, mellow brown eyes looking nothing but defeated.
She shook herself once and heaved herself to her feet, shuffling over to your relatively clear patch on the fringe of carnage.
"Hello?" Her voice cracked awkwardly. You couldn't help but purse your lips sympathetically.
"Hey," You began, reaching into your pocket. Just your luck that you had a clean packet of tissues packed. "I was just wondering how to get back to the main road. I'm new to the area, and I'm kinda lost."
You offered her the tissues, and it looked like she was about ready to cry at the gesture.
"Oh, uh, sure. I could walk you," She froze, dabbing the blood from her cheek, "-only cause I also need to walk that way," Her face pulled into a grimace, and she subtly flinched as if someone was poking fun at her. She opened her mouth a few times, gaping like a fish before her face flushed red. Without another word, she hurried around the corner you'd just rounded, and you just followed without another word.
She didn't talk, never glanced in your direction to see if you were following her. You didn't mind, though, because you were just happy to see life slowly returning around you - Moreso the sounds of traffic and chatter and city ambience that you'd slowly lost over the past few hours. The joy of finally returning to a place you could somewhat navigate diverged your attention, so by the time you turned to at least thank your guide, she was already long gone.
It wasn't really your problem if she didn't want to stick around. What was your problem was the little brother you'd left at home by himself. You hoped that the apartment was still in one piece by the time you'd made it back.
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You finally visited the school. It certainly looked different teeming with student pushing and shoving their way to freedom. It also felt a lot different, seeing people your age running around in uniforms, talking to friends and passing by you without a second look. The uniforms, in particular, gave you a pause - They itched your brain in the most peculiar way until you remembered why. The same girl you'd met about a week ago, the one who'd slain the bee-like devil, had worn the very same uniform. Albeit, hers was doused in blood and cuts, it was no doubt the very same one.
That was a thought for later. You tapped your foot impatiently against the ground, waiting for your brother to finally make an appearance. You supposed his tardiness was payback for the time you got lost and spent hours wandering the backstreets of Kyoto, but you couldn't help but feel impatient.
He appeared a second later, thankfully, surrounded by a group of kids his age. It was nice to see him fitting in, especially after he'd only been going to his new school for about a week, although you had to admit it was funny seeing him freeze as soon as he saw you waiting at the front gate.
"Why are you here?" He scampered away from his group, looking more nervous than annoyed. You fixed him with a perpetually bored look.
"I came here to walk you home, idiot, why else? For shits and grins?" You quirked an eyebrow. He sighed and sagged his shoulders.
"But… I was gonna hang out with my new friends…" You gasped dramatically.
"And you were gonna make me walk home all by myself?" Your brother cringed. You felt nothing but satisfaction. With a sigh, you pat him on the shoulder.
"Just be back in time for dinner," You paused and set him with a stern expression. "And steer clear of devils, alright? I want you back in one piece."
He only gave you a big smile and a rushed thanks before running off, quickly rejoining his group. You shook your head and stretched your arms, noticing how quickly the crowds around you had thinned out around you.
"Oh, it's you again," You turned on your heel, coming face to face with the same, sharp-eyed dark-haired girl you'd briefly met a few weeks ago. Her face was riddled with scars again, clean cut, rough against her pale skin. You furrowed your brow, wondering if your memory was playing tricks on you.
"It's me? You were the girl who killed the devil, right?" You just had to make sure. She puffed up, eyes practically glowing orange and she fixed you with a pompous look.
"That's me. I'm an expert with any sort've melee weapon," She waved her hand as if shooing away an annoying insect from her ear. "But that's not why I came over here," Her eyes gleamed, "I was just wondering if you wanted to go shopping with me, y'know, have a walk around?"
You did a double-take.
The idea sounded nice, making a new friend, and there was a regular food vendor that you'd been meaning to try recently. But the idea of going with a stranger you'd really only just met set of alarms in your brain.
'However…' She was admittedly pretty. Those bright eyes that seemed to peer into your soul, a sharp, clean smile with long dark hair. 'Plus, it'll be in public, right? Plenty of other students and people around.'
"Yeah, sure, I have time," You missed the way her smile grew ever so slightly, stretching just further than a human could naturally.
However odd the situation was, you couldn't deny it was nice to finally have someone other than your brother to talk to. Admittedly, it was also odd how her bravado slipped the minute you turned to walk into the city, but you also found the marine life facts she sputtered out like she'd rehearsed were entertaining. She just seemed happy that you didn't seem bored out of your mind.
Asa Mitaka, you learned her name was. Wasn't usually one to talk to people, and she said it was a miracle she was able to muster up the courage to talk to you in the first place. She pointedly refused to make eye contact most of the time, which was fine in your opinion since at least the conversation was kept in a lively ebb and flow you weren't entirely used to.
She talked with an edge to her voice, not an annoyed one, but rather a nervous one. You didn't really want to ask about it, seeing as you used to do something similar when you were younger, however, Asa beat you to the punch.
"I don't have many friends - I had one before, but, well, she died in a devil attack not too long ago," She peered through a window store, just looking at the array of shoes that were for sale. "I mean, I haven't had many friends at all. Just the one." You stepped up next to her, but she just peered sadly beyond the glass.
Brown eyes. You squinted. Perhaps the light turned them orange. You once knew someone whose hazel eyes turned yellow under the light. Orange wasn't too far from brown.
"Maybe we can be friends," You asked, almost absentmindedly. Asa whipped around to stare at you, her mouth hanging open. Her eyes flickered back and forth - From your face, to behind you, maybe. She worried her bottom lip between her teeth nervously and didn't say anything.
That made your heart twist a little. Ouch.
Taking a break from the sun, the two of you were stopped at a vending machine under shade, grabbing a few drinks. It was mostly quiet aside from the sound of the machine working, clanging softly as coins were inserted. You were leaning against a wall when a little thing approached you out of the corner of your eye.
"Aw, cute. Kitty cat," You kneeled and reached out your hand, letting the feline sniff your fingers before it rubbed its head along your palm. Asa made a noise halfway between a choke and a squeak before shuffling a few paces backwards.
"Yeah, cute," She seemed preoccupied, whispering something urgently under her breath. Which was odd - You were going to ask if she was okay, but Asa was suddenly in your face before you could react, those same, orange-ringed eyes staring into your very being.
Orange. Not brown.
Preoccupied, a hot flush covered your face.
"Come with me. I wanna show you something cool," The bravado was back, oddly enough. No trace of the nervous high-schooler, but rather, the cool, confident and dangerous devil hunter you'd seen the first time you'd met eyes.
The change made you nervous, but also, you couldn't really say no to a pretty and confident girl asking you to come with her, especially when she'd been so heartening throughout your entire afternoon. She sealed the deal by taking your hand in hers, wrapping her lithe fingers confidently around your own in a way that made your heart thud errantly in your ribcage. Starved for human touch, you followed her as she tugged you along with enthusiasm.
It made butterflies tumble around in your chest, a sense of happiness and friendship you hadn't known in a while. It made you feel like a normal teen, running through the city with their friend, laughing happily together. You didn't have to care about making dinner, or phoning your parents in another country, or worrying about bills - You got to just run around without care plaguing your brain. You didn't care about the people you ran past, didn't even care as the streets thinned and people slowly appeared less and less around you. You didn't even realise that Asa had dragged you into something that was nothing less than an alley.
You only realised when she'd stopped laughing and was instead standing stock still between you and your freedom.
You also stopped laughing. Your heart dropped deep into your stomach.
"Ah, shit," You puffed, still catching your breath. "Well, I guess it was a dumb mistake to follow a stranger through the city." You tried to laugh away the atmosphere - You wanted to believe that you'd make it back home to see your family again, but somehow, seeing Asa's burning orange eyes made you doubt the chance that that would ever happen.
"Not surprised. Humans aren't the smartest," She offhandedly remarked, watching you like a dingo would watch a human baby. Although, no, that wasn't entirely right. There was a cold, analytical feeling behind it, not a sensation of hunger. But that word, the little indication - 'human.'
"You're a devil."
It was less a question and more of a statement. Asa smiled and cocked her head.
"A devil you couldn't even begin to fathom," Those same ringed eyes burned, pinning you to the wall. You furrowed your brow, gut-twisting and your neurotically swayed, judging how far you could possibly make it before she could close the distance.
"Lay it on me. I'm pretty smart," Were the dying words you chose to go with. However scary a devil she could be, Asa was also still in the body of a high-school girl. The sight wasn't particularly scary compared to the devils you'd seen in the past.
"You're bravado won't save. It certainly didn't save my host," Asa reached out her hand toward you, pinprick eyes staring you down with such complexity. The visage reminded you of an owl.
"I am not Asa," Asa began - "Asa is a part of me, and I am a part of her, yet, in the end, we are two different beings." You tilted your head.
"Then, who are you?" You shimmied against the wall, trying to perhaps slide your way to freedom.
Asa closed the distance instantly, digging her fingers into your scalp with such ferocity that you could feel it digging into bone with enough force to pin you to the spot, but not enough to shatter your skull instantly.
"I don't have a name, but I go by Yoru - The devil of war."
.
"(Name). Spinal cord sword."
You held your breath.
Nothing happened.
Yoru furrowed her brow.
"(Name). Spinal cord sword."
Her face morphed into a scowl, and then a snarl.
You gave her a look, one that asked 'what the hell are you doing' and you knew she knew exactly what you were thinking.
"What the fuck - Why isn't it working?" She let you go, shoving you painfully into the wall. You were dazed, now had a sore head and probably a minor concussion, but you were alive and your limbs weren't twisted into a gorey weapon. Your eyes focussed just in time to see Asa, or Yoru? Punch a hole in the nearby brick wall.
"It's because of you!" Yoru shouted at a patch of empty air. "You and your stupid human feelings and your pathetic nature to fall in love with someone who shows you a smidge of kindness and your stupid nature infecting my mind! Sharing a body with you has done nothing but hinder me!"
Yoru howled and whined like a toddler, bashing her fists against the same wall she'd punched a hole through, clutched her hair with her face screwed up into a childish scowl. She whipped around to stare in the vague direction she'd done so before, her scowl deepening with her teeth bared in a snarl.
"I AM NOT STUPID!" And with that, the anger was gone. The scars were gone, too. Her eyes were a rich shade of brown, deep, with flecks of gold and faint rings that seemed reminiscent of the war devil's own eyes. You had no idea if it was the influence of the devil herself, or if Asa's (?) eyes naturally looked like that.
An ear-splitting silence settled over the scene. Asa slumped against the wall, curled into the pit of carnage Yoru had carved with her bare fists. She just sat there, staring blankly ahead, eyes hooded and squinted as if someone was yelling at her. You were in a similar boat, head pounding, trickling of blood dribbling from your hairline, down your face and dripping onto the concrete below.
"So," You hummed. Asa flinched, but she didn't stop staring into the empty air ahead of her. "What the fuck was that all about?"
"That, uh, was Yoru." She didn't say anything else.
"It's a long story," She offered, trying to pull her hair into a pair of twintails.
"Well, I have to make dinner. Fancy staying over?" The words were out of your mouth before you could even think about them. Why you were inviting the war devil over for dinner, or at least the host of the war devil, you had no idea. But you just had one question you really, really had to ask.
"Hey, do you know why she's such a baby?"
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"I'm heading out, be back soon!" Your brother yelled into the apartment, shrugging on a jacket.
"Don't fill up on junk food and don't talk to any weird devils, 'kay?" You yelled back. Your brother paused and looked at you before nudging his head in the direction of the other room. You scoffed.
"You know damn well what I mean!" Your brother laughed and locked the door behind him as he left.
Yoru appeared in the doorway as he left, a loaf of bread tucked under one arm with a slice hanging from her mouth.
"Where's he going?" The devil sat next to you at the kotatsu, absentmindedly watching whatever was playing on the tv set.
"To hang out with friends. He probably won't be back later so don't eat all the goddamn soba this time," You pointed your pen in her direction. The devil didn't seem particularly threatened, so you made a mental note to put aside a bowl for your brother.
"Hey, Yoru? Quick question," The devil grunted. "When will I see Asa again? Not that I don't appreciate your…" You paused and looked her up and down "Wonderful companionship, it feels weird to only see one of my girlfriends on a near daily basis."
Yoru scoffed and shrugged.
"When Mitaka can take control of this body, she's more than welcome to hang out with you," Yoru took the piece of bread she'd been eating and pressed it against your lips. You quirked an eyebrow but took a bite of the offered piece of bread. You decidedly didn't comment on her eating it plain, as last time resulted in a forty-minute tantrum including someone called 'Fami'.
After a moment of silence, Yoru stopped and grinned sharply. The same smile she gave you back in that alley all those months ago.
"Are you bullying Asa-" Yoru reached forward and grabbed you by both your wrists "-again?"
…
"Yoru?" The war devil smirked like a bitch.
"Yeah?"
"You're doing this to tease Asa, aren't you?" Yoru only cackled.
"Perhaps."
Asa is crying and shaking at the end. She can't believe Yoru would do something like that in front of her.
“… And after I see how that goes, we’ll meet again in a week’s time to review…”
You want to focus. You should be able to focus, given your serious line of profession, which entails risking your life in a seemingly endless uphill battle against the supernatural. There is no justifiable reason you’ll be able to offer when your superior inevitably picks up on your wandering attention span.
Is it ever exhausting, to be as keenly aware as she is? To her, everyone else must seem like they live wearing horse blinders, bumping into each other, and making a general ruckus. Does she find it pathetic, or amusing?
Considering how difficult Makima is to read, you doubt you’ll ever be able to tell.
❝ I’ve Acquired Quite a Taste (for a Well-made Mistake) ❞
𖤐 Makima/F!Reader
𖤐 Hurt/Comfort. Light angst. Fluff.
𖤐 Introduction/Rules Post
𖤐 1.7k WC
𖤐 Summary: Makima is devastated to learn that her heart beats wildly and out of her control each time she is around you. Instead of running from the pleasure she has been chasing all her life, she decides that for once in her life, she must settle down and look herself in the eye.
𖤐 A/N: Rather than putting a tag for a potentially OOC Makima, I want to address that this is my own personal interpretation of her character. As the control devil, she has never been able to form equal relationships—rather, because of her upbringing. As opposed to Nayuta, who lived comfortably and happily with Denji, Makima was raised in a brutal environment at the hands of the government. I wanted to explore her finding love and learning to set aside what she believes makes her unable to form those equal relationships, e.g. her being the control devil as well as her upbringing. I believe that in the right circumstances, Makima has the same potential as Nayuta. Also, happy new year.
There is a lasting belief—or, rather, fact—within Makima that she will not find love. She will not find friendship. She will never know the intimacy that two humans possess late at night as they hold one another and whisper their deepest shared desires with their hearts beating in tandem. As the control devil, there is simply no way for her to be on par with a single living being, devil or not, on earth. She cannot outrun her destiny, her birthright. She’s–
“Makima, are you listening to me?”
“What?” She’s broken out of her thoughts, finally, by the sound of another voice, much sweeter than her own. It echoes in her ears, briefly leaving her breathless.
“I was asking if you wanted me to wash your hair for you,” you murmur.
“Oh… yes. I would like that,” she practically whispers. Her gaze flickers to your face and its unyielding concentration on lathering your shampoo that she’s always borrowing nowadays into her hair, in what seems to be disbelief.
Makima feels undeserving. Her body is like a clenched fist whenever she’s around you. To her, the two of you are living on borrowed time, just like she has been since she was brought into existence. The beginnings of tears poke behind her eyes as they beg to be released, but Makima is no fool. She knows not to cry when there are things to be thankful for, nor does she want to show even more weakness, all for one person. She’s already bare naked for you and pliant like a lamb with its fur freshly shaved.
While she has never had tastes for well-made mistakes, Makima’s heart aches as she considers that this may be one. Your fingers in her hair are sinfully gentle, all while she’s battling worms in her brain that tell her to walk out. She doesn’t want to. That’s the whole goddamn problem. She loves you. She’s killed for you, and now she wants to live for you.
You’re no fool, either. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out what’s swirling behind Makima’s yellow eyes. The ever present worried expression on her face that she wears around you is hard to conceal for someone who has been, literally, in control since the dawn of time. Makima is so unused to her feathers being ruffled that she fails to notice when the wind starts to blow through them. You, the wind, and she, the feathers, should not be together. When you recall this as you rinse off her newly washed hair, your hand almost slips to your heart. It stutters with the force of a restless, active volcano. You do your best to stifle its wounds with Makima. She’s the active shooter and the bandaids, tied into a neat package.
You don’t say anything as she steps out of the tub, but your eyes linger on each crease and mark of her nearly perfect body. The water drains. The room is quiet, sans for the dripping from the faucet. You should really get that fixed. Makima knows you won’t, and at this point, she would prefer it to continuously drip. Once an annoyance, now a comfort—reminder of the safety in which she is shrouded.
She dares to break the silence first. “Do you mind pouring me a glass of water? Baths always make me terribly thirsty.” There is an uncanny shyness in her voice that seldom makes a public appearance. Still, you smile and nod.
“Yeah, I will.” And you leave.
Makima is stuck with a less comfortable silence now, one that she has created instead of dealing with the aching in her own heart. She wants to deal with it by hiding away in your arms, where she knows she is safe. Makima is always safe, of course. Nothing nor anyone can touch her, but the warmth you exude always seeps into her bones better than cheap liquor from some dingy bar in downtown Tokyo. This time, she doesn’t even have to swallow her pride and pick up the phone. You’re readily available as she wishes you could always be.
The thought of living with you is fleeting, but it burns into her brain. She grimaces and glances up at her expression in the mirror. Stupid. She isn’t one to usually demean herself, but when it comes to matters of the heart, the latter has already put her down so far that she cannot crawl back up without your helping hand.
Once she’s dressed, she exits the bathroom and finds you almost immediately in the kitchen on her right. You’re nursing the glass of water that you’d poured for her. Quietly, Makima stands stock-still, hands interlocked behind her back, and observes you. You’re pretty, as always. The dim light reflects in your eyes as you stare down at some stray magazine. It’s unimportant, but the way your fingers delicately flip through the pages stirs something in her stomach. Everything you touch seems to be made of glass.
“It’s rude to stare, no?” you murmur, closing the magazine. You set it aside and finally look up. Makima bristles, and her gaze flicks to the side.
“There isn’t a single human around to judge.” Her yellow eyes snap to yours as she approaches. “Unless you’ve suddenly decided you’re too good for copulation with a devil.”
“Copulation? I might decide that now.”
Once Makima’s close enough to touch, you lean slightly down and press your lips to the corner of her mouth. She stiffens but doesn’t say anything this time around. Her arm wraps around your waist and yours around hers in return. It’s exactly what she’s been wanting all day. With the moonlight penetrating the ozone and filtering into the main room, and the heater sizzling comfortably warm, Makima dares to say the moment is perfect.
You bring the glass up to her lips, and she obediently takes a few sips. An innocent sort of warmth trails down her spine as she looks up at you, poking at each vertebrae. She hums with thanks and settles against your chest. She buries her face into its side, undoubtedly leaving wet stains against your shirt from her not yet dry hair. It’s hard to have any complaints when the culprit is the woman you love, though.
“You know what happens when you don’t dry your hair soon enough?” you ask, raising your eyebrows somewhat goadingly. “Your bangs stick up, and you look like a fool for the next twenty-four hours. Quick, ask me how I know.”
Makima rolls her eyes. So what? she thinks. It’s Saturday, and she has Sundays off. “Quiet, please.” Tears poke at her eyes again. What are these emotions to which her body is suddenly succumbing? It’s getting harder to fight them off, and you might notice them soon. That would be humiliating. To be pitied is to be waterboarded. It fucking hurts.
Your hand rubs up and down her back. You feel her trembling, but you’d be an idiot to call it out.
“You will leave me, won’t you?” she asks with a breath. It’s so uncharacteristic of her that it makes you freeze like a statue. “You’ll try, at the very least.”
“I will make love to you is what I will do.” You scoff. “Leave you? Please, don’t make me laugh. Self-pity is not a good look on you, Makima.”
A stray tear falls from Makima’s eye that she quickly wipes away. She doubts you’re the type of person to think less of her for expressing something human, of all things, but it tears at her heart that she’s letting it happen. Damn you and your humanity; it’s made her softhearted. She supposes that this is what love is supposed to include—the very thing she has been chasing after all her life. It’s right here. She has it, and she’d be damned if she let it slip away. But it makes her so vulnerable. Before you, the only thing that would make her cry were movies.
You gently push her back to look at her face. You have to cup it; there’s no other way to have this conversation. You must hold her with every ounce of love your body has ever possessed—that it ever will possess.
“Love doesn’t come easy to humans, either. It never has,” you whisper. “Each time that I hear your heartbeat, it’s like God himself is whispering to me. He’s telling me, ‘I have given you the most precious of gifts.’” There’s a pause where you make sure she’s looking into your eyes and seeing the desperation behind their irises. “I haven’t re-gifted once in my life. Why should I start now? Your love is the most precious thing I could ever hope to have. You control my heart. Each beat is underneath your thumb.
And when we make love, each gasp, each hitch of breath—what is that if not divine perfection? You may be a devil, but you are seraphic. Understand?”
Briefly stunned, Makima can only nod dumbly. The silence stretches between the two of you, only broken by the soft rustling of clothing as she leans back into your embrace.
“That was stupid. I’m sorry,” she whispers. Her voice cracks mid-sentence. Even with the multitude of unusual emotions flowing through her body, Makima still finds it in herself to be impudent. “Even if you were planning on it, I would just brainwash you to stay.”
You can’t help but gently smack her upside the head. “I should banish you to bed for saying that.” Makima’s tears get stuck in her throat as she laughs.
There’s still a myriad of things about which she hasn’t told you. She’s terrified to open Pandora’s box, even if, at the end of the day, she can prevent practically anything from spiraling out of control. But is it so terrible that she finally wants something like this to come naturally?
Her head aches with the pressure of having to stop herself from unintentionally manipulating you each second you are together—when there are choices to be made. She hadn’t ever tried to do such a thing—didn’t even know it was possible—before you. Makima has to stand before a line-up again, imaginary this time, as she perfects her abilities, but there is no government to discipline her this time. She has only you, and she’s found that you’re enough.
There is one outstanding difference between then and now—you have the gall to forgive her when she makes a mistake. You don’t punish her.
And, as the two of you stand embracing one another, the warmth from your heart seeps into her own as they finally beat in tandem.
summary! ࿐ྂ you don't swing that way. well, that's what you're always telling yourself. but, your entire brain gets re-wired when you catch sight of her, of shoko. the chick who's always these frat parties normally as high as a kite. she starts talking to you and you feel feelings you've never felt for a woman in your entire life... you want to indulge, but the life you live wouldn't allow it. right? (a lil angst to comfort, f/f sex, queer confusion.)
wc: 17.8k || artcreds: @/anta_baka00 || 18+ smut
the leather couch you find yourself lounging on is sticky and hard, but you ignore it. you're too focused on choso who's sitting right next to you with his body angled towards yours.
“i’m actually fucked for stats,” he says, knee brushing yours on purpose. “if i bomb it, nanami’s gonna kill me.”
you laugh and tip your head toward him. “you say that every semester and somehow, you still pass.”
“yeah, guess it's because i’m charming,” he smiles with his red eyes dropping to your lips. “and i know how to negotiate, y'know?”
this is very familiar territory for you, flirting with guys like choso always came so naturally. you touch his arm when you make a point and let your hand fall into his lap when he laughs. you’ve always been so annoyingly good at this.
men seem to gravitate towards you and your magnetic energy. you flirt, hang out, you hook up, sometimes it turns into a few weeks, sometimes it’s a bathroom at a party or a spare room upstairs.
choso keeps talking about finals, he’s clocked the low neckline of your top and the enticing glitter on your eyelids. he loved your look.
you yap on about some dumb all nighter you'd pulled with maki last finals when movement to your left steals all of your attention away.
someone falls onto the couch beside you.
you glance over without thinking and then your brain just… stops.
she’s closer than you’ve ever seen her. she's not across a packed room on some far away couch you can't really see. she's not out the back smoking a cigarette by herself.
she's here, right here, next to you.
shoko.
she’s wearing black, of course, but it’s not gross and try hard. she's got on a wellspring fitting cami with some jeans and nice shoes.
god, pretty isn’t even the right word to describe this woman. up close she's ethereal.
you realise you’ve never actually looked at her so near. she's normally laughing low with yuki or utahime in a different world than you in the background. now she’s close enough you can see her long lashes, her clear skin, that pretty beauty mark below her eye.
jeez, was she a model?
choso follows your line of sight and lifts his hand. “yo, shoko.”
she gives him a small wave without perking up. “hey.”
that’s it. no effort or over the top conversation starters. she was nonchalant from what you could tell.
choso turns back to you like the interaction never happened.
“anyway,” he says, leaning in again. “if i survive finals, you should come over. i’ll cook. i’m actually so goated at cooking.”
right. you nod automatically, but you’re not hearing him. your focus keeps faling sideways. you’re hyper aware of shoko. you were like a puppy in that sense, whenever you saw a pretty girl you had a sort of urge to be her friend.
only this time, the feeling felt.. off? was that the right word? like you wanted so badly to talk to her like you did with everyone else, but the thought of actually doing it was making you queazy.
why is this making you weird?
you try to ground yourself. this is nothing. she’s just a girl. a pretty girl, sure, but that shouldn’t matter. you’ve been around pretty girls your whole life!
choso’s ringed hand finds your plush thigh and squeezes it tightly. it makes you shiver and suddenly? not in a good way.
“hey,” you say desperately trying to deflect, forcing a grin. “you see gojo?”
he squints past you. gojo is strewn out on the frats expensive rug, laughing and gagging while geto tries his best to keep him upright.
“oh shit,” choso sighs. “he’s gonna puke.”
“yeah,” you say. “might wanna save the carpet.”
choso stop, then sighs. “damn it. i’ll be back.”
he’s up and gone in seconds calling gojo’s name.
you sit there with your cup in your hands, and you're suddenly very, very aware of yourself. your posture, your smile, the fact that you don’t know what to do with your face. when did this ever happen?
shoko moves to pull a cigarette from her pocket. she taps it against the pack, then lights it. the flame lights up her cheekbone for a second and your eyes snag on it.
you let out a laugh that comes out a little off. “uh. wow.”
she looks at you with the smokiest, seductive eyes, raising her eyebrow.
“sorry,” you say quickly. “girls don’t usually smoke. well. around me, i mean.” oh no. was that rude?..
you suppose not since she's now giving you a soft, delicate smile.
“yeah,” she says. “i get that.”
okay. she has a nice voice too. great.
you turn toward her fully, pulling out your biggest smile, the one that always charms people. “hey. my name’s [name]. it’s nice to meet you. i’ve seen you around here before, right?” god, i sound like a high schooler!
she looks you very slowly, playing with the cigarette in her hand. your stomach flips and you don’t know why.
“yeah,” she says. “i know who you are.”
... was that a good thing?
“oh!” you laugh. “all good things, i hope.”
“mostly,” she says, lips pulling up.
yikes, so no..
she leans back again with the cigarette balanced between her fingers, and something about all of this feels so unfair. like she’s not trying, like at all, and still winning.
you clear your throat and try to talk to her the way you do with every other girl, ask her some questions!
“so,” you say, tilting your head. “you looking to hookup with any cute guys tonight?”
she actually laughs. right in your face.
“hm,” she says. “definitely not my thing.”
your smile drops for half a second before you recover. “yeah? that's fair. not everyone’s into that.”
“no,” she says, eyes steady on yours. “not everyone.”
you nod like that makes sense. maybe she’s just above it? maybe she’s one of those girls who hates hookup culture, that was fine! you'll talk about something else. you’re already lining up your next question to ask this beautiful women when hands grab your arms from behind.
“there you are.”
before you can react, you’re being lifted up, laughing as well as awkwardly protesting as a group of your friends haul you off the couch.
“wait, what-”
“come on, come on,” one of them says. “we gotta go.”
you twist around with your heels barely touching the floor. “hey, i’ll catch you next time,” you call out to shoko.
she lifts her hand again, cigarette still between her fingers. “sure,” she says.
and you're pulled off for good.
they reel you out to the back porch as you free your arms and whip your head around to scowl at your overly confident friends.
“what the hell was that?”
one of the girls scoffs. “we were saving you.”
“from what,” you say. “a new friend?”
they exchange looks and then burst out laughing.
“from looking like a fucking lesbian,” one of them says.
the word spikes you through your already pumping heart.
“w-what do you mean,” you ask, becoming more and more oblivious.
they roll their eyes. “that’s shoko. she’s like, the token lesbian. always high off her face talking to her other lesbo friends. you really wanna be seen all over her?”
“yeah,” another adds. “people will talk. you’ve got a rep.”
your face feels hot, not with embarrassment but with a rising feeling of anger. “so what? i was just being nice.”
“sure,” she says. “but people don’t read it that way. we didn’t want you embarrassing yourself over some gay loser.”
your mind jumps back to shoko’s smile. 'not my thing.'
oh.
“that’s what she meant,” you mumble.
“what.”
“nothing.”
you open your mouth to spit something back, to say something equally as rude to these insensitive jerks, but the porch door swings open and they’ve already gone back inside, mean laughter following behind them.
you’ve been left standing there with a pounding heart and an extremely confused brain.
not her thing, huh?
~
gojo’s room stunk of dior sauvage and pineapple vape vapour. why anyone would choose pineapple over something like grape or watermelon still baffles you, but whatever. still, it wasn't necessarily a horrible smell, he had the window cracked open, so there's that.
the white haired man pulls out of you with a long groan, then pushes himself up on one elbow and grins down at your naked body, his hairs a mess, his eyes are happy as if he didn’t just wreck the bed. “wow,” he coos. “you're always such a good lay, babe.”
you snort, reaching for your discarded bra. “you’re so welcome.”
he laughs and rolls onto his back, stretching out like a cat. you’ve known him too long for this to be awkward, sleeping with gojo has always been easy. you’re both hot, popular, both bored enough to circle back to each other whenever the timing lines up.
friends first and benefits second. it works out.
he pulls himself up to sit on his elbows again. “seriously though. ten out of ten, would recommend.”
“what a charmer,” you say, smiling.
“what can i say.”
you swing your legs over the side of the bed, and grab your underwear.
would now be a good time to pick this guys brain about the girl who's been haunting your dreams ? probly not, but fuck it we ball.
you move around like you need to say something or it'll make your head explode into a bajillion tiny pieces.
gojo notices. “you good?”
you sigh, then pull up your underwear.
“hey,” you say. “can i ask you something?”
he blinks. “uh. sure? kind of late to get shy now.”
you roll your eyes. “not that.”
he waits, still naked, completely oblivious of the brain spiral you’re about to drag him into.
“what do you know about shoko?” you ask.
okay, it's out in the open. nothing you can do now.
gojo’s smile flickers, confusion flashing across his face. “uhm, shoko?”
“yeah,” you nod. "like. what’s she like? and uh. if she has a… partner.”
you almost say girlfriend but that word feels so weird in your gob.
gojo lets out an awkward laugh. “damn, talk about whiplash. you ask that now?”
your cheeks warm up. “urgh, just answer.”
“okay, okay,” he says, hands up. “relax.”
he scratches the back of his neck, thinking. “she’s been friends with me and suguru since highschool. she’s cool. kind of quiet but she’s funny if you like katie b kinda humour. smokes a lot, drinks a lot. yeah, that's pretty much it."
hm, that lines up well with the vision in your mind.
“and,” he adds, “no. she doesn’t have a girlfriend.”
you exhale with your shoulders dropping. relief?
no. not relieved. that’s not the word, you don’t care, obviously. it’s just curiosity.
gojo squints at you. “why do you look like that?”
“like what,” you throw back.
“like you just found out finals got cancelled.”
you scoff. “shut up.”
he studies you for a sec, then shrugs. “whatever. you’re weird.”
he doesn’t pry because why why would he?
the thought of you being anything but the girl you are doesn’t even cross his mind.
you force a smile and stand up. “hmm. this has been fun, but i gotta run.”
“already,” he says, pouting like a baby. “come on. stay! we can talk, or cuddle, or something!"
you grab your jeans, shaking your head. “maybe next time.”
he reaches for you, fingers brushing your wrist. “please?”
you laugh and gently pull away. “you’re so needy.”
“you love it.”
"mm, debatable."
you grab the rest of your shit and head for the door. you did feel bad, but let's be honest, if you stayed and 'talked' you'd just circle the conversation back to shoko, and you didn't particularly want to face the strange feeling in your stomach when it came to her name.
gojo sits up, catching you before you leave. "hey! there’s a party tomorrow night. you should be my plus one.”
you pause at the door. “sorry, satoru. i’m already invited.”
“yeah, but.. still. you should find me.”
you grit your teeth into something that looks like a smile. “if i see you.”
he opens his mouth to say more, but you’re already pulling the door open.
“later, gojo.”
“later,” he calls, mock offended. “text me.”
you don’t answer. you shut the door before he can keep whining.
you step out and oh. you forgot where you were, their frat.
perfect.
you slip your shoes on trying to be as quiet as possible, hoping not to run into anyone else. half the guys here have seen you naked. the other half have tried. the last thing you need right now is a comment or a look.
you turn a corner and nearly crash into toji who's shirtless, a towel resting over his shoulder.
he raises a brow. “leaving so soon?”
“god." you say. “don’t start.”
he smirks. “didn’t plan on it.”
you pass choso in the stairwell, who gives you a small nod like he wasn't tryna get it on last week. you return it.
thank the lord, you're finally out of that maze.
a week. it’s been a whole week and she’s still there poking around in your head. you just had like... a friend crush on her, right? you just wanted to be her friend. that's it. just really, really badly..
after all, finals are coming, functions are becoming few and far between. your brain just needs something else to latch onto.
that’s it.
you head down the porch steps with your bag in your hand, trying not to think about tomorrow night, where you know she'll be.
~
the frat looks... unrecognisably good (?) for once.
tinsel is wrapped from top to bottom around every single railing, pretty fake snow is sprayed all over the windows, inflatable candy canes are shoved into corners to hide the cracking dry wall.
definitely nanamis handy work.
mariah carey is bumping over the jbl's as people sing their hearts out to her music.
is christmas technically over ? maybe. but college kids don't give a fuck, its festive!
you’re sat up on one of those really high tables that overlook the lounge room and makeshift dance floor, with your stocking covers legs crossed over one another, and the heel of your shoe caught on the steel rung.
the fluffy santa dress you're rocking is very fitting, very much mean girls jingle bell rock coded. its short enough to be sexy yet fluffy enough to stay in the... post, christmas spirit. (if you don't celebrate christmas plz scrap all of this and say it's a regular party.)
now, you usually liked this table because it gave you such a good view of everything, but right now both your left, and right peripheral was obstructed by two hunks of meat. toji and sukuna, squished in on either side of you, talking obnoxiously loud about baseball. urgh. when did you ever give a fuck about baseball? go play a real sport.
“i’m telling you,” sukuna says, knocking his knee into the table leg, “my home runs were perfect last semester.”
toji snorts. “nah, you got lucky.”
“jealous ass. skill isn't luck.”
you hum noncommittally, they were talking at you, not with you, after all. occasionally you'd nod at the right moments, with your pretty eyes wondering and unfocused. you don’t care. not even a little.
how could you care about these idiots when your mind was focused on such a perfect thing.
shoko.
she was sitting on a far away couch on the other other side of the room, right infront of you.
you sat there staring straight at her with wide, intuitive eyes. head propped up on your palm like you were being caught day dreaming in class.
shes wearing that same black cami with jean shorts this time, and a very large santa hat sitting atop her beautiful head of hair. a cigarette licks smoke into the air from between her fingers. she'd been smoking every time you'd seen her, that had to be bad for her lungs...
you feel it again, that magnetic pull. that annoying, persistent urge to go talk to her, to finish that dumb conversation you'd wanted to have so bad.
it’s been a week and it hasn’t gone away.
“you listening?” toji asks, elbowing your side.
“yeah,” you lie. “totally.”
sukuna squints at you. “you’re staring.”
“am i not allowed?” you say, not breaking eye contact with the couch.
they follow your gaze.
oh.
toji snorts. “seriously?”
“what?” you ask, innocent.
“you’re looking at shoko,” sukuna says flatly.
“what do you guys know about her?.”
fuck it, if you could pick gojos brain about her then these two were next up.
he rolls his eyes. “dunno. i don’t fuck with those lesbian chicks.”
you blink. “good thing no one asked that.”
toji shrugs. “she’s cool. kind of a shame though.”
“a shame?" you echo.
“yeah,” he says. “she’s pretty. too bad she likes girls.”
your heart blips and you don’t know why. god. did everyone know this girl but you?
“does she have many friends?" you ask next.
sukuna thinks for a second. “not really. yuki and utahime hang around her sometimes."
toji nods. “she keeps to herself.”
“how does she even get invited?" you ask.
“her and shiu go way back, so.” sukuna explains.
you peer back at her as she silently smokes to herself.
“well,” you say, hopping down from the stool. “i’m gonna change that.”
both of them look kinda annoyed you're leaving so soon.
“where are you going?" toji asks.
“to talk,” you say, stepping away.
sukuna scoffs. “have fun.”
you weave through the dance floor, some more drunken people smash into you, hands brush your waist, someone yells your name. buy you ignore it all you're too focused on one thing.
you stop in front of the couch and take a deep breath, you can do this. then slide into the open space beside her.
shoko startles for a second, with her eyes fanning over to you. you want to cry at the was her brows furrow together.
“…oh,” she says. “you.”
“hi,” you say, a little breathless.
she looks you over, then smirks. “i thought your friends would’ve scared you off with all the dike allegations.”
the word hits so, so wrong..
your shoulders go all stiff and tense. “hey, don’t say that.”
she tilts her head. “hm?"
“that word,” you say quickly. "you're not... that. don't say such horrible words about yourself.”
her pretty face somehow get prettier with the way her eyes go all soft on you “yeah. fair.”
you swallow. “they didn’t scare me off. i just wanted to talk to you.”
“why,” she asks bluntly.
you panic. “because i think you’re cool. and i wanted to be… friendly.”
you almost say friends, but that feels like a little too much right now. i mean, you've only talked to her twice now, and the first one was nothing to write home about.
she looks over your fave for a minute then smiles and holds out her hand. “yeah? well, i’m shoko. nice to meet you. for the second time.”
your face ignores as you take her hand, her soft, delicate hand. wow, she felt like fluffy slime.
“i’m [name]. yeah. nice to meet you." you stop. "for the second time.” she laughs and lets go of your hand.
you desperately search for the next conversation starter and gesture at her head. “good effort.” you pause. “oh shit. that sounded rude.”
you slap a hand over your mouth. “i meant it’s cute. it looks cute!" good save.
she laughs again. “relax. its fine. not really a good effort anyways since it’s shiu's. i didn’t even wanna dress up.” yeah, that tracks. she glances down at you, eyes lingering. “your outfit’s cute tho, what is it... like, sexy mrs. claus?” you stutter. “th-thank you! and yeah, i guess that's what i was aiming for.”
she gives you that beautifully bored smirk and you suddenly forget ever social skill you'd ever learnt from being pretty and popular.
she seems to clock that and decides to save you. “so,” she starts soft. “are you here to hook up with any cute guys tonight?” she even tilts her head a little when she says it, clearly quoting you, asshole. affectionate though.
your brain immediately blue screens.
oh god. this is bad. this is really bad. normally, this question would be nothing. you’d laugh, or maybe deflect, or say something flirty and vague, maybe even name drop someone if you were feeling extra spicy. you’re good at this, hell, you’re built for this.
except right now you’re painfully aware of how you’re sitting. how your legs are crossed. how your hands are folded in your lap like you’re waiting for a fucking job interview. what if you say yes and she thinks you’re a slut?. what if you say no and she thinks you’re a boring loser. what if she thinks you’re lying! what if she thinks literally anything at all?!
your silence reeeeally stretches. shoko’s smile turns into empathetic confusion. "…hey,” she says. “are you okay? are you high or something?” oh my god. you choke on a laugh. “what? no. god. do i look high?”
“a little,” she says honestly.
your face feels hotter and hotter. “oh, wow. that’s not good.” she laughs, then reaches out. her fingers wrap around your hand. the contact sends your thoughts scattering even worse.
“seriously,” she says. “you’re acting like you’re about to bolt.” you swallow and then, for some reason, the truth just spills on out. “i’m usually really good at talking to people,” you blurt. “like, really good. and i’ve wanted to talk to you properly since the last time we spoke, but i just can’t seem to say the right thing around you and now i feel insane and weird and probably unlikable and i’m so sorry if this is uncomfortable for you i just-”
“hey,” she cuts in gently. your rambling grinds to a stop. she’s smiling, again. that damn smirk. “everything’s fine,” she says. “you’re not weird. and you’re definitely not unlikable.”
you blink at her. “really?”
“realy,” she echos. “i actually like that you came over.” something starts pumping harder in your chest so fast it almost makes you dizzy.
“i’d love to be friends,” she adds. “and we should totally talk more.”
oh! that heavy, awful pressure you didn’t even realise you were harbouring just disappears. poof. you let out a laugh that sounds like relief than anything. “thank gosh.”
she chuckles. “that bad, huh?”
“you have no idea,” you say, squeezing her hand once before realising you’re doing it and quickly letting go. “nthank you. seriously.” you start to open your mouth again, ready to actually talk this time, when a dumb mop of white hair in your peripheral vision catches your eye.
he's drunkly slurring your name as he stumbles towards you. gojo. he’s clearly off his face. like, aggressively so. sunglasses indoors drunk.
“y/n,” he calls, voice carrying way too far. “there you are!”
shit. you remember telling him you’d talk to him if you saw him. you also remember how badly you don’t want to leave this couch.
so, what more logically sound thing could you possibly do in a situation like this?
you grab shoko’s wrist and stand up. “come on.”
she laughs, surprised. “what? hey-"
you tug her after you, squeezing through the crowd again, your hearts racing but this time it feels exciting. behind you, gojo shouts something that sounds like “rude!” but he’s laughing too hard to understand.
by the time you push through the back door and onto the porch, you’re both giggling.
you collapse onto the outdoor couch, shoulders brushing one anotherw.
“wow,” shoko says, still smiling. “kidnapped.”
“he would not of left me alone,” you say. “i’m so sorry.”
“don’t be,” she says. “that was kind of fun.”
"right?" you smile.
she reaches into her pocket, then sighs. “shit. i lost my cigarette.”
you make a noise of sympathy. “tragic.”
she snorts and pulls out another, lighting it with her long, slender fingers. the flame pirouettes over her face for a second and you find yourself staring once again. big surprise. she catches you this time.
“so, do you smoke?” she asks.
“no,” you say quickly. “never.”
“yeah,” she says, amused. “i figured from last time. looked at me like i'd committed a crime.”
“oh shoosh.”
“hey, i'm just observant.” she takes a puff, then glances at you sideways. “you wanna try?” your heart jumps. “me?”
“yeah.” smirks. you shudder, but nod nonetheless. “o-okay. sure.” she laughs softly, then brings the cigarette to your lips instead of handing it over. her eyes stay on yours as you lean in, lips closing around the filter.
it feels so intimate. way more than it should.
you inhale. and you immediately regret it. you cough, bending forward, wheezing like your lungs are on fire. “oh my god! why- how do people do this-” shoko bursts out laughing and wraps an arm around your shoulders steadying you. “easy, easy.”
you finally catch your breath, face burning, and then you start laughing too. uncontrollable. embarrassed. alive.
“hmm,” she hums. “probably not for beginners.”
"oh wow, that was bad,” you wheeze.
“you're okay. i promise." you lean back against the couch with your shoulders still touching. shoko glances at you in the dark. her face adorns a soft and contemplative look. “you know,” she says, “i think you’re really cool.” you turn toward her, very surprised.
“mhm,” she continues. “i’m glad you still wanted to talk to me. even after whatever your friends probably said.”
your throat constricts a little. “they just don’t get you.” she smiles at that. “you’re probably the coolest person i’ve ever met, by the way. like ever,” you say, very open and earnest. “and i’ve met a lot of people.”
she laughs although it's adorably shy this time. “i’m glad.”
the half assed christmas lights pulse softly around you as the party hums on inside.
right now the moment feels so perfect. you don't think you've ever had this much fun at a party before, just sitting out the back with this mysterious girl you'd only really properly met tonight. it was likely boring to others, but you'd never felt so content than with her, talking all night about absolutely nothing yet everything, all at once.
~
11am, monday.
phone number? secured.
snapchat? pinned.
her instagram? holy shit. she was the nichest most amazing girl probably ever. you wanted to cry.
all her posts had that grainy digi cam look to them, taken in graffitied spots in the city or long abandoned stair ways. she was cool, but like, on an intergalactic level. you were scrolling her page for what felt like the millionth time in your social studies lecture when choso slides into the seat next to you.
"whatcha doing?"
you jump in surprise and slam your phone face down onto the table, causing the rest of the room to stare as you slap a hand over your mouth. "my bad guys..." a few people laugh before turning their attention back to the front.
"what, you got some guys dick pics on there? promise i'm not jealous." he smiles, snaking a hand around your shoulder.
you shiver at the contact. it's so much different to shokos, her arm was delicate and soft. it was warm and comforting in a way no meaty muscular bicep could ever be. you stand up in your seat and grab your lap top.
"sorry, cho. gotta go to the... to the bathroom! yeah, gotta pee. see yah." you wave at him and rush out of the hall down to the bathrooms. when the hell did you think about someone as much as you were shoko... not even your ex could occupy this much space in your running-a-mile-a-minute brain.
you don’t even realise you’ve slowed down until you hit the end of the hallway and nearly walk straight into them.
your friends. a whole cluster of them blocking the path like a poorly coordinated intervention.
“oh my god,” one of them says as soon as she sees you. “there you are.”
another chimes in. “okay but hello? you look hot today.” you laugh the fakest thing you can muster. "you too!" you'd hoped that'd be it. you could go freak out in the bathroom now. but, ofcourse not. "we missed you at the party,” someone else adds. “you disappeared. like, vanished.”
“yeah,” another chimes in. “we didn’t see you all night.” your stomach drops just a little. you already know where this is going.
you try to keep it light. “i was.. around.”
they exchange looks and their smiles turn slightly sour. a quieter girl at the back, someone you barely talk to, clears her throat. “i mean… i saw you.”
your eyes move to her. “yeah?”
she murmurs. “with shoko. out on the back patio.” there it is. the somewhat tame energy flips instantly.
one of them, a blonde girl, scoffs. “are you serious?”
“we literally warned you,” another says. “told you that was bad for you.”
“yeah,” someone laughs. “lowering yourself for some fucking dyke is crazy.”
that word.
“don’t say that,” you snap, way harsher than you mean to. they stare at you surprised. “what,” one says. “it’s true.”
“you’re better than that,” another adds. “we’re just looking out for you, fuck.”
“yeah,” someone else says. “don’t get dragged into that shit.” it’s one of you against ten of them. all you want to do it scream at them for being so insensitive and rude, but you can feel it. the way they close ranks without moving, the way their voices scoff from teasing to patronising.
your hands shake around your laptop strap.
“i’ve gotta go,” you say, forcing your voice. “i’m gonna be late.”
“don’t forget what we said,” someone calls after you. you give them a half hearted nod, wave once like you didn’t just get sucker punched emotionally, then turn and walk fast toward the bathrooms. once you’re inside, you push through the door and lean against the sink, staring at your reflection like it might explain something to you.
what the hell was that? you tell yourself you’re upset because they were rude. because anyone would be, right? because no one likes hearing someone they care about get talked about like that.
that’s it.
this weird tight feeling has nothing to do with shoko herself. obviously.
then, as you're half way through your crisis, the stall door creaks open behind you.
“rough day?”
you look behind you through the mirror.
and who other than yuki tsukumo steps out, washing her hands without a care in the world.
you plaster on your best smile and shake your head, the one that usually worked on anyone. you'd known yuki in passing but never personally, she was sort of just part of another group.
she laughs immediately. “nope. not that one.”
you drop it. “what?”
“you’re like, hardcore crashing out,” she says, drying her hands. “it’s very obvious.”
“yeah? well it’s none of your business.”
she grins. “what? guy trouble?”
you scoff. “no.”
“always no,” she says. “always lying.”
you roll your eyes and turn back to the mirror. “can you not.”
she leans against the counter beside you. “relax. i just said that because shoko said you were a little boy crazy.” you spin around, and like world vomit pouring out of your mouth really loudly, you boarder line scream. “shoko said that!?” you slap a hand over your mouth immediately.
yuki stares at you. “wow.”
“forget i said that,” you rush. “please.” she tilts her head. “why are you so jumpy.”
“i’m not.”
“oh you absolutely are.” you exhale, defeated. “just forget it.” she shrugs. “okay. but you brought her up.” you hesitate. “no, you did." you glare, then sigh like being mad wasn't worth it. "what else did she say about me?.." you ask quietly.
yuki’s brows lift. “oh?”
“just tell me,” you say quickly.
she hums, thinking. “she said you’re her new friend.”
“and that you’re a little ditzy,” yuki adds, quickly. your expression falls to that of a kicked puppy, one so sad even yuki feel a little bad, so she quickly recovers with, "she didn't mean it in a bad way! just that you were charming." you stare at the sink. “oh.”
yuki watches you with a smile. a big, teasing, horrid smile. then, she drops the million dollar question. "what? do you like her or something?”
your mouth counters before you can stop it.
“no,” you bark, stepping closer, getting up in her face. “and if you go around telling anyone that, i’ll fucking ruin you.”
yuki freezes and her eyes go wide. you instantly regret it.
“okay,” she says slowly. “wow.”
you grab your bag, heart racing, and bolt for the door. “forget this conversation.”
you don’t slow down until you’re back in the hallway with your head spinning.
what the hell was that?
you don’t yell at people, especially not people you barely know. you don’t threaten girls in bathrooms over hypothetical questions. this is not you.
all of this over one night. one conversation that turned into a few hours. one girl who sits quietly on couches and smokes too much. you grip the strap of your bag tighter.
friendship is not supposed to feel like this.
~
tuesday, 2pm.
shoko sits on the floor with her back against her couch, knees pulled in, and an ashtray balanced between her feet. her entire apartment smells like old incense and fresh smoke, which is a surprisingly pleasant smell. her windows cracked menough to let the fresh air leak in.
yuki is sunken into the couch behind her with one leg hanging over the arm and a cigarette between her fingers. she’s been quiet for a few minutes, which usually means she’s lining something up. shoko takes a drag and waits.
“so,” yuki says eventually. “you know that chick you were telling me about?”
shoko makes a vague noise, eyes on the smoke drifting toward the ceiling.
“the flashy one,” yuki adds. “your new little friend.” shoko doesn’t turn around but answers. “what about her?"
yuki laughs under her breath. “she went full berserk at me in the bathrooms yesterday.”
that gets shoko to look back. one eyebrow lifts. “berserk how?"
“like,” the blonde says, sitting up a little, “i make one joke and suddenly she’s in my face threatening my life.”
shoko sighs once. “you’re exaggerating.”
“i swear i’m not,” yuki says. “it was very intense.” shoko leans her head back against the couch, staring at the ceiling. “what did you say to her.”
yuki scoffs. “nothing crazy. i asked if she was having guy trouble. she said no. i joked that you said she was boy crazy.”
shoko groans quietly. “yuki?.”
“what,” yuki says. “that’s what you said.”
shoko pinches the bridge of her nose. “i didn’t mean it like that.”
“i know,” yuki says. “i thought it was harmless. but the second i mentioned your name she got all weird.”
shoko goes quiet, rolling that over. yuki watches her. “then, i made an off hand joke. asked her if she liked you or something, and she got really defensive. like, scary defensive.” shoko stubs out her cigarette and lights another. “she probably felt threatened .”
“threatened by what?"
“everything,” shoko says. “her whole life is different to ours.”
yuki tilts her head. “explain.”
shoko shrugs. “she lives in a loud world. everything’s about perception. who she’s seen with. what it looks like.”
“and you’re a some big gay display?,” yuki asks.
shoko snorts. “something like that.” yuki studies her more carefully. “so you think she freaked out because she thought i thought she liked you?" shoko nods. “yeah.”
“not because she actually does?”
shoko doesn’t answer immediately. she takes a drag then lets it out slowly. “she’s under a lot of pressure just being around me at all. i get that.”
yuki raises a brow with a smile. “you’re being very generous.”
“i’m being realistic,” shoko says. “still,” yuki says. “people don’t usually threaten me over misunderstandings.”
the brunette smiles faintly. “she’s just dramatic.”
“true,” yuki admits. “but dramatic doesn’t usually come with that much panic.”
shoko shrugs again. “she was probably stressed.”
yuki goes quiet, then asks, softer, “so you don’t think she liked you. not even a little?"
the quieter woman shakes her head. “no.”
“really?"
“really.”
yuki squints. “even if she was gay?"
“she’s not,” shoko says easily. “and even if she was, i’m not her type.”
yuki laughs. “what’s that supposed to mean.”
“look at her,” shoko says. “then look at me.”
“i am looking at you.”
“exactly.”
yuki shakes her head, she's obviously unconvinced. “i don’t know. she was pretty goo goo eyes at that christmas party."
shoko stiffens slightly. “fuck, you saw that?." she sighs. "she doesn’t look at me any way.”
“she does,” yuki says. “like she’s trying to solve a math problem she really hates.” shoko huffs. “that means nothing.”
“sure.” silence settles between them, broken by a car horn outside. shoko flicks ash into the tray, movements slow. yuki shifts on the couch. “can i ask you something.”
shoko already knows. “you’re going to anyway.” yuki smiles. “do you like her?"
hm.
the question sits there as shokos lips stay sealed. she's not silently confessing but it doesn't seem like she's outright ruling it out either. yuki waits. “shoko.”
she stares at the wall. a crack runs from the corner down toward the baseboard, something she’s been meaning to fix.
“that wasn’t the question,” yuki says gently.
shoko closes her eyes for a second, then opens them. “i don’t know.”
yuki lets out a breath. “that’s not a no.”
shoko doesn’t argue. “you said she wasn’t your type,” yuki presses.
shoko shrugs. “no. i said she wouldn’t like someone like me. that’s different.” yuki glances back at her. “is it? you’re in trouble,”
shoko scoffs. “don’t start.”
“i’m serious,” yuki says. “this is how it starts.”
“nothing is starting.”
“sure.” shoko disregards the conversation and pulls her attention back to the window. behind her, yuki lights another cigarette and lets the conversation drop.
for now.
~
from then on, a day or two pass by of you avoiding your friends in the hallways, and dogging them at functions.
you were now snuggled up in your apartment, you’re curled on your side in bed, wrapped in stupidly pretty pajamas that cost too much for something you only wear to sleep. hair fanned out on the pillow. lashes resting against your cheeks.
you look peaceful, you are not.
your subconscious brain fills your mind with a dream that feels like it'll be nice, calm, but that escalates very quickly.
you're sitting on a couch, is it yours? you can't tell. what you can tell is, shoko's sitting right next to you, with one of her legs thrown across your lap and her hand's digging into your hair. her voice is seductive and so, so close to your ear.
"i know you want me, y/n."
her hand slides up your thigh.
"just let me take control."
jesus this feels wrong and right all at the same time. she smiles, then kisses you. so deep it alludes every sense you have.
the dreams blurs and morphs together, one second she's between your thighs making work of your clit with her tongue, flicking back and forth over the bud as she stares you dead in the eye.
next she's got ghat same tongue down your throat as her fingers work you from the inside, pulling the sweetest noises from your mouth.
you're gasping, moaning, whining under her expert touch, everything feels like pure bliss, pure uninterrupted bliss.
she's pinching at your breasts, running her lips over the nipples kissing them softly.
your own hands start to wonder, hesitantly cupping her own, playing with the plush flesh that seemed to up your horny stat by a million. just as you're about to be bold, to finally let yourself go and touch her where you know she wants it, you wake up all at once.
you gasp and sit up straight like you'd been possessed, huffing and puffing as your sweat slick body heaves.
oh my god.
your body is still reacting and you hate that. hate how real it felt. you hate how easily your brain went there.
with her.
“fuck,” you whisper.
you swing your legs over the side of the bed and stand up, pacing once, twice, maybe movement will make it all better. you grab your phone off the nightstand with shaky fingers and don’t even think before you hit maki’s name.
she answers on the third ring, her harsh voice coiled with sleep. “you better be fucking dying.”
“i need you,” you say. there’s a pause. then fabric rustling. “okay. that’s not normal. what happened.” you fall down onto the edge of your bed, elbows on your knees. “i just woke up from the worst dream of my life.”
“worst like scary or worst like you’re being dramatic.”
maki has always been the one girl you feel like you can turn to. she's your friend who's not like those other girls, she's funny as hell, knows how to read a room, and most importantly, not judgey.
your real best friend.
“start talking,” she says. “slowly, though.”
so you do. you tell her about that first night you met shoko and how badly you wanted to be her friend after that, how much worse it got when you saw her for the second time.
you spew on and on about the hours long conversation you had with her about school, life, friends, all on the patio of that dumb frat.
you tell her about yuki and about the bathroom, about how she mentioned you liking shoko and you losing your temper so bad it made your hair stand on end just thinking about it.
still have to apologise for that...
“that tracks,” maki mutters. “you hate not being in control.” you wince. “okay, just clock me i guess.”
you tell her that you thought you just wanted to be her... best friend? well, you were friends now and you still yearned for more, so that had to be it. right?
“and now,” you say quietly, “i just had a wet dream about this girl. what the fuck?.”
maki laughs then asks, “are we talking full on?” you groan and flop back onto the bed. “sopping wet. i hate myself.”
she laughs again, not mean. “wow. okay.”
“don’t laugh.”
“i’m laughing because this is huge for you,” she says. “and also because you sound like you’re about to combust.”
you stare up at the ceiling. “i don’t know what’s wrong with me. i don’t even think i like girls.”
“mm,” maki hums. “yet you just had your subconscious write a fanfiction on some yuri shit.”
“can you die?.”
she ignores that. “listen. you don’t have to slap a label on this. you don’t have to announce anything. you met one girl who made your brain go a little crazy, that's it."
“that’s not normal.”
“it is if you’re discovering yourself,” she says. “late bloomer kinda thing. very chic.”
you rub your face with both hands. “but i’m not gay.” maki doesn’t miss a beat. “everyone’s a little gay.”
you snort despite yourself. “that’s not helpful.”
“it is actually,” she says. “because it means you’re not some weirdo. you’re just human.”
you roll onto your side, clutching a pillow to your chest. “i’m scared i’m gonna mess this up. i don’t want to make her uncomfortable. or make myself look like a poser trying to covertly bully her, she's told me she gets picked on a lot.”
“you already look like a poser,” maki says. “affectionately. just means you're a pretty fem.” you smile. “what, so girly girls can't be gay?.”
“i thought you weren't gay?,” you're real quiet at that. she continues. “look, from what you’ve told me, she likes you. at least as a person. you’re not imagining that.”
“but what if i am.”
“then nothing happens,” maki says. “and you survive. but if you freak out and overthink and self sabotage, you’re gonna regret that way more.”
you sigh. “so what do i do?"
“don’t be weird,” she says simply.
“…that’s it?"
“be yourself,” maki adds. “the version of you she already likes. let it play out. if it stays friends, cool. if it turns into something else, also cool.”
you stare at your ceiling again, at least your chest felt a lil lighter than it did five minutes ago.
“you’re so annoyingly right,” you say.
“i know,” she replies. “it’s my thing.”
you glance at the clock. too early and too late. “thank you for answering.”
“always,” maki says. “text me if you crash out again.”
“i will.”
you hang up and set your phone back on the nightstand. the room is quiet again. your body is finally calming down. the dream keeps poking through at the edges of your brain, but you sweep them off.
you curl back under the covers, staring at the dark.
don’t be weird.
easy for maki to say.
you close your eyes anyway, shoko’s smile flashing behind them, and let the night settle around you.
~
having that conversation about your feelings had really put things into a somewhat comfortable perspective. you were confused, that's all. very confused.
pretending you didn't have a sex dream about your new friend was surprisingly easy. it was around a week or two later and you'd successfully made sneaking off with shoko upstairs under the excuse of, 'accompanying her while she destroys her lungs.' a very regular thing.
you'd been to around three functions from that very messy crash in the bathrooms and the dream. and to be honest, you'd never been happier just existing with one person at a place meant for mingling with tens or hundreds others.
you'd both sit on either shiu's or geto's bed with the window open as she smoked two or three cigarettes. you'd talk, and she'd listen to everything you had to say, and visa versa. you'd learnt that she's a med student, she loves the smiths and mazzy star, and that her favourite time of day was dusk.
she was hands down the nicest girl you'd ever met, just so calm and down to earth.
although, the topic of sexuality was something the two of you really never touched on. it was like an electric topic you were staying away from. you didn't know if she was doing that so you felt comfortable and shoko didn't know if you were doing that because you felt uncomfortable, either way, the both of you looked silly dancing around it. tonight was no different, you'd both scurried upstairs away from the horny men and judgey women, crashing getos room and slipping onto his bed.
"god, didn't think we'd make it out of there. ino and gojo were really talking your ear off, huh?" shoko teases, leaning back onto the wall with her legs splayed out on the mattress. you laugh, sipping at the vodka cruiser in your hand as you fall back on geto's pillow.
"yeah well, gojos always talky. even in bed."
you watch as her eye brow twitches.
it's almost nothing, but you catch it.
shit.
eyes that were usually fluttering around carelessly were now pin pointed on you. scary.
“always?” she asks, voice even. you swallow around your sip. “i mean. i guess.”
she nods.
“so,” she says, casual again. “do you sleep with him regularly, or was that like.. a one night thing?"
oh.
now you were nervously peeling at the sticker on your bottle like a kid and biting the inside of your cheek. you don’t want her to think badly of you. you’ve never cared what people thought about this before. never once felt the need to explain yourself.
lying feels worse though, lying to her feels so wrong.
“yeah,” you say slowly. “i mean. yeah. sometimes. we hook up from time to time.” you risk a glance at her face. and its it’s subtle. so subtle you almost miss it. it's the way her mouth drops for half a second and her eyes dip down, then away.
something in your chest drops.
fuck.
you rush to fill the silence. “it’s not like. serious or anything. just fun. you know how it is.” you laugh nervous and she nods once. “yeah.”
you hate how flat it sounds. your brain scrambles, desperate to smooth it over, to level the ground between you again. “what about you?” you blurt. “so.. are you involved with anyone ? with any… girls?”
holy fuck. god, strike me down.
you clap a hand over your mouth. “oh my god. i’m so sorry. that came out so wrong. i didn’t mean it like that at all. i just meant like. romantically. or casually. or whatever. i swear i’m not trying to be weird or ignorant or gross. i just don’t always know how to ask things and i panic and then my mouth just keeps going and that sounds so ignorant i-”
“hey.” shoko’s delicate finger presses its pad gently against your lips, hushing you.
“don’t worry,” she says softly. “i know you didn’t mean it like that.”
your shoulders drop. as she lowers her hand and you definitely internally mourn the loss.
she smiles. “last girl i hooked up with was a couple months ago.”
“oh.”
“i’ve been taking a break.”
you nod. “that’s. cool.”
she studies you. “you don’t have to sound relieved."
you laugh nervously. “i’m not. i’m just. glad you told me.”
her pretty eyes soften as she looks you up and down, ever so slowly, and blurts out, "i’d tell you anything.”
the way she said that...
“hmm?,” you mumble. “i might take you up on that.” she sighs a laugh. “i’m serious.” you turn back. “yeah?”
“yeah.” everything's radiating that nice feeling
you get when you're with someone you really admire, every way you look the room seems to fit this vibe perfectly.
just you, and her.
you and this beautiful woman you'd been dreaming of, talking to guys about post hookup, calling maki over for the past week freaking out if you're secretly in some queer coming of age movie reincarnate.
just you, and her.
shoko shifts closer and her thigh brushes yours. not accidental. definitely not accidental.
“can i ask you something?,” she says. you nod way too fast. “yes.”
she tilts her head. “do you like... only swing one way?" your brain shuts off. your mouth opens. closes. opens again.
“i,” you start, then laugh nervously. “i think so. i mean. i’ve always thought so. i’ve only ever been with guys. and i’ve never really questioned it until recently. which is probably normal. or not? i don’t know. college makes everyone question everything. and i still like men. obviously. i’m not saying i don’t. but lately, ever since ive met you, i’ve been feeling weird. not bad weird. just different weird. and i don’t know if that means anything or if i’m just overthinking because i can't figure this out or-"
shoko’s hand cups your cheek and your voice cuts out.
her thumb moves slowly, smoothing down along your jaw like she’s pulling you back down to earth again. her deep brown eyes don’t leave yours for a second.
“you don’t have to explain,” she says. “i get it.”
you swallow. “you do?." she nods. “yeah.” your heart feels like it’s trying to climb out of your chest. you don’t pull away. you don’t lean in either. you’re suspended in this strange, terrifying middle space.
“want me to help you figure it out?" she asks. your breath leaves you in one long huff. “yes... please.”
when did your dreams become reality? (literally)
shoko doesn’t hesitate. she leans in and presses her soft lips to yours.
it’s so delicate you almost assume she's not even kissing you. it's so astronomically different to the rough, deep kisses you're used to from the men you see. she feels so much warmer. your eyes stay open for a moment, stunned. her face is so close. those cute freckles, her long lashes, the smell of smoke and mint.
then you close them, deciding to not look like a freak virgin and actually contribute.
your hand slips gently around her waist, she responds by pulling you closer, her other hand settling at your hip. the kiss deepens, and your head spins. this feels so different! you've thought it a thousand times in a second but it's just so otherworldly. it's not hurried and pushy, no. it's sweet and simple.
your thoughts race. you think about guys like gojo’s hands. the way he grabs. the way everything with men feels like a performance you know by heart, god, this is nothing like that.
this is quiet. this is terrifyingly peaceful.
shoko leans in more, her forehead brushing yours, lips still moving against yours in a lovely serenade. your grip tightens on her shirt, you want more and less at the same time.
you start to overthink.
your mind floods with questions, with fear, with guilt, with excitement.
with panic.
it’s too much.
this is too much.
or is it? you can't think straight! (haha, get it.)
you pull back suddenly, hands pushing against her shoulders.
“stop."
shoko stops instantly. no frustration and no confusion. just concern.
“hey,” she says. “what’s wrong?"
you shake your head, “i can’t. i mean, i want to. i just- i don’t know what this means.”
she nods slowly. “okay.”
you sit there, chest tight, heart racing, staring at her like she might disappear if you look away.
“i’m sorry,” you whisper. shoko doesn’t look hurt, just thoughtful. “it’s okay,” she says. “we can stop.” you nod, still spinning. “yeah.”
the space that was non existent just a few seconds ago now felt like hundred miles long.
.
before the moment can marinate any longer, geto, like some drunk super hero, comes bashing into the room with a pretty girl you swore gojo was dating just a few months ago when he ghosted you for a while. did he cheat on her? was that the story? wow, geto was a show off.
"get out."
wow, real classy.
you see the girl knock him in the side as to say 'cut it out,' and you and shoko share a fleeting glance before scurrying off.
when you hear the door shut down the hallway, you slow down. shokos infront and she turns to you, the lighting dark and you can barely see her eyes, but you can tell she's got that questioning look.
it was making your stomach flutter and churn with nervous nausea at the same time.
"look, y/n, i just want to let you know that this is normal for a girl like you, okay? you just-"
"i'm not gay." you spit. it's so much colder than you mean, but your brain is in fight mode. you're a little drunk, confused. not a good mix.
"hm?"
"i'm not gay. and you helped me figure that out." you tell her, even though you know that's a lie. you just don’t know how to put your feelings into perspective.
"i see."
"look i just-"
"no, i get it. don't worry, kay?" she cuts you off, with that calm smile. "we can talk more outside, yeah?"
"yes... please."
.
it’s awkward. not necessarily bad awkward. just new. the kind that makes you hyperaware of where your hands are. how loud your breathing sounds. the fact that you said something you can’t take back.
shoko breaks it first.
“hey,” she says gently. “i’m not offended.”
you peer at her with guilt stricken eyes, “you’re not?” you ask.
she shakes her head. “no. not at all.”
you let out a small laugh that doesn’t quite land. “i'm still so sorry... i kind of snapped.”
“you were overwhelmed,” she says. “that happens.”
you rub your thumb along the hem of your top. “the truth is, i don't know what i am. it just felt like everything was happening at once and i didn’t know what to do with it.”
she nods. “that’s normal. especially for girls who haven’t had that kind of intimacy with another girl before.”
you glance at her. “you really think so?"
“yeah,” she says easily. “i’ve seen it before. i’ve felt it before.” that makes you pause, perhaps with either sorrow or jealousy, your brain is too scattered to hone in on which one.
“i’m not trying to freak out,” you say. “my head just feels like a mess right now. i want to talk about it. i just don’t know how.”
shoko turns her body toward you a little.
“you can tell me anything,” she says.
there it is again. that sincerity that makes you feel like you've known her for years.
breathing in deeply, you muster up a response.
“okay,” you say. “so. at first. when i met you. i just really wanted to be your friend.”
she smiles faintly. “that tracks.”
you huff. “yeah. it was like this overwhelming urge to be near you. to talk to you. to understand you. i’ve never had that with someone i hadn't even spoken to yet.”
she listens and doesn’t interrupt.
“and i kept telling myself that was it,” you continue. “that i just admired you. thought you were cool. wanted you in my life. i didn’t question it.” you swallow. “but then,” you say quietly, “that feeling sort of changed. or maybe it didn’t change?. maybe it was always more than i thought and i just didn’t have the language for it.” you sigh “i don’t know when wanting to be your friend turned into wanting to understand you on a deeper level,” you say. “or if it was ever just friendship at all.”
you laugh under your breath. “i’ve never experienced this before. not like this. with guys it’s so easy. this feels like i'm tryna read a book in a language i don’t know.” she nods slowly. “that makes sense.”
“my 'friends' don’t help,” you add. “they made jokes, they'd call you horrible names. they turned me wanting to hang out with you into some ugly thing.”
her mouth tightens for a second. not angry, but protective. "i don't want to be their friend anymore. i don't care about close minded losers like that."
she smiles before replying. “you’re completely valid in thinking all of that,” shoko says. “none of it makes you stupid or naive or wrong.”
your shoulders ease up without you even realising they were tense.
“thank you,” you murmur.
“... i want you to know something too.”
you look at her. your stomach flips but you ignore it.
“i value you,” she says. “as a friend. genuinely. and i’m going to try my best to support you through this. thick and thin. no matter what you decide.” your throat tightens. “even if i decide i can’t handle this?"
“especially then,” she says. “but i also want to be honest with you.” you brace yourself.“i’ve had a abit of a thing for you.. ever since the night we locked eyes at that party,” she admits. “i tried to keep it light. give you space. follow your lead.”
you blink. “you have.”
she smiles softly. “yeah.”
“i’m not asking you for anything,” shoko continues. “if you want to stay friends, we stay friends. if you want space, i get it. if you want to stop talking to me, i’ll respect that too.” your chest hurts.
“and if,” she adds carefully, “you want to try and see where things go, i’d be more than happy to take it slow. guide you through it. at your pace.” you stare at her. this woman who somehow makes room for every version of you without asking you to be anything smaller.
“i don’t deserve how kind you’re being,” you say. she laughs quietly. “i’d do anything to make you feel as comfortable as you’ve made me feel.” the concept of you making her feel comfortable really improved your mood.
you feel like you have to show her how grateful you are for her maturity in all of this, and your appreciation for her ability to take this so well. you move closer and gently wrap your arms around her shoulders, giving her room to pull off if she wanted to.
she gets choked up for a second, but then relaxes into it with her arms coming around you with the same care. her chin rests lightly near your shoulder.
its soft and feminine in the sweetest way.
you pull back after a moment, smiling despite yourself. “thank you.”
she squeezes your hand once before letting go. you feel so much better after this.
“so,” you say, clearing your throat. “um. would you maybe want to come over to my place this weekend? maybe watch a movie.”
her answer is so quick. “yes,” shoko says, smiling wide and egar.
you grin back. “cool.”
really cool.
~
your apartment looks stupidly nice and you hate that you care this much about this dat- hang out...
the lights are warm but not too warm. the couch cushions are lined up again after you sat on them twice and fluffed them for no reason. the coffee table is clear except for the bowl of chips you definitely did not need to put in an actual bowl. you glance at the clock for the fifth time.
still ten minutes.
your phone is pressed between your shoulder and ear while you tug at a throw blanket until it looks straight, and maki’s voice crackles through the speaker.
“okay so what’s the plan?” she asks. “walk me through it.”
“there is no plan,” you say. “that’s the point. i’m just going to be normal.”
maki snorts. “you? normal?”
“rude,” you mutter. “i mean it. we’re watching a movie, maybe talking, maybe drinking a bit. nothing crazy, just chilling out like friends do.”
“friends who want to kiss,” maki adds.
you roll your eyes. “stop.”
“i’m serious,” she says. “are you gonna ask if she’s std free if you guys fuck?”
you choke. “i’m not doing that!"
“why notttt?” maki says. “it’s good to be safe.”
“we are not fucking,” you hiss, glancing toward the door like it might hear you. “this is just a hangout.”
“everyone says that before they fuck,” maki says. “i’m just saying.”
“please don’t say fuck again,” you say. “i’m already on edge. i don't know how to do it with a chick anyway...”
"i'm sure she could teach you."
"shut up!"
maki's laugh cackles in your ear for a while before she sighs and calms. “you like her.”
you sigh, you know she's right but,
“i’m just going to see how things go,” you say. “i’m not making it weird.”
“you already made it weird,” maki replies gently. “but that’s okay. that’s how figuring things out works.” you smile despite yourself. “you’re annoying.”
“i know,” she says. “text me if she kisses youuu!.”
“i’m hanging up.”
“ask if she's clean!,” maki sings.
you end the call mid word and toss your phone onto the couch, cheeks pink.
you take a breath. steady. you glance at the door again.
a knock sounds.
you jump.
“shit,” you mutter. “she’s early.”
you smooth your top over, pulling at the fabric so your cleavage looks good, then cross the room. your hand is already on the knob when you pull the door open with a pretty smile ready for her.
but it drops immediately.
because it’s not shoko.
gojo stands there instead, leaning in like it's his own place. his hair is messy in that on purposeful way. his eyes are drowsy. his cheeks are pink like he’s been drinking or thinking about you, or both.
definitely both.
“hey,” he says softly. “there you are.”
“gojo,” you say, flat. “what are you doing here?"
he steps inside without waiting, his fingers wrap around your wrist gently. “I needed you,” he says, voice low. “i’ve been thinking about you all day.” he leans in and kisses you before you can stop him. it’s familiar, sure, it's nice and his mouth knows where to go, but you're all but over this.
you pull away.
“stop,” you say. “now is a really, really bad time.”
he stares at you, bewildered from the alcohol. “what?"
“shoko is coming over,” you say. “you can’t be here.” his brows knit together. “then cancel?”
“no,” you say. “gojo. you need to leave.” he laughs like you’re joking. “why would you cancel me for her?.."
“because i made plans,” you say. “with her.”
“yeah,” he says. “and i need you.” you shake your head. “that’s not how this works.”
he steps closer again, confused. “we’ve been doing this for three years. we're friends, good friends."
“I know,” you say. “that doesn’t mean you get to show up whenever you want.”
he looks genuinely lost now. “are you mad at me?."
“oh my god, no,” you say. “i just- i need you to go.”
“why are you picking some girl you just met over me?,” he asks. “over us.”
“there is no us,” you say, sharper than you mean. his mouth gets pouty. “wow.” you exhale. “gojo. please.” he scoffs. “she doesn’t need you like i do.”
“you don’t get to decide that,” you say.
he reaches for you again and you step back.
you're about to drop the bomb, about to tell him that 'i think i have a crush on her and this hangout is going to determine my mood for the rest of the week, so can you fuck off?'
but you're cut of by the door that opens behind him.
shoko, in all her beauty, stands there with a puzzled look on her face.
“oh,” she says. “sorry. i uhm.. i didn’t realise you had another guest.” your heart drops.
“no,” you say quickly. “it’s not like that. he was just leaving.”
in shokos head, she's distraught. why would you have some guy you were sleeping with over at your place when you and her were supposed to be hanging out? especially after she was so excited for it... she felt a little sad.
she tries to push it down and announces, "that’s fine. i can come back another time.”
“no,” you say. “shoko please stay.” but gojo talks over you. “thanks sho, catch up later yeah?.”
shoko hesitates, then gives you a small smile that doesn’t quite reach her deep brown eyes. “text me.”
then she leaves.
the door closes, and the silence is loud. you turn on gojo slowly, heat and anger flooding your face.
“what the fuck is wrong with you?!” you snap.
he frowns. “what did i do?"
“you just ruined everything!" you worry. “get out.”
“you’re overreacting,” he says. “she’s just some girl.”
“she’s not just some girl! she's all i can think about lately and i was so excited to see her today!” you say. “and you don’t get to decide who matters to me, i think i really like her!" the second the words leave your mouth, the room goes still.
gojo just stares at you, blinking like his brain short circuits halfway through processing it.
“you like,” he repeats, slower. “… her.”
you squeeze your eyes shut and take a deep breath. “i don’t know if it’s love-like. but it feels big. bigger than anything i’ve felt before. and tonight was supposed to be a break from the fuck ups in our track history. we were supposed to just watch a movie and talk and not freak out and now it’s all fucked because you walked in like this was still some open door situation.”
gojo stays quiet because yikes, he messed up.
you keep going because stopping feels so impossible right now.
“everything with you has always been easy,” you say. “easy and fun and predictable. and with her.. i don’t know anything, and that’s scary and exciting and i hate that i care this much but i do.” gojo rubs the back of his neck. “i didn’t know.”
“I know,” you sigh, then soften immediately. “i know you didn’t. but you don’t get to act like she’s nothing just because she’s new.”
he winces. “yeah. that was shitty.”
you drag a hand down your face. “i just wanted tonight to go right."
he rubs his neck bashfully and steps towards you slowly, he pulls you into a hug before you can talk yourself out of it.
“I’m sorry,” he says into your hair. “i really am. i don’t know much about… any of this. but i didn’t mean to mess things up for you.”
your throat tightens. “i know.. i know.”
"i'm sorry,” he says quietly. “i won’t again.”
you look up at him and he looks genuinely gutted on your behalf.
“i’ll stop,” he says. “no more showing up. no more trying to get with you, hell, i'll even tell the other guys to lay off if you want. if you think you found something good, i’m not gonna touch it.” your whole face is wiped of the stern expression you wore, replaced with one of appreciation. “thank you.”
he nods, then forces a small smile. “you should go after her.”
you nod, then grab your jacket, shove past him, and bolt out the door.
then, like some really bad angsty romace movie, it starts pouring down with soaking rain.
your hair sticks to your face. your shoes soak through, and your heart feels like it’s trying to outrun you. you scan the street, breath coming fast, panic creeping in.
then you see her down the block with her hood up, standing near the bus stop about to hop on the cory express. she’s halfway up the step when you shout her name.
“shoko!”
she turns just as you reach her, your hand catching her arm before she can get on.
“wait,” you gasp. “please.”
she lets you pull her back down onto the sidewalk. the rain darkens her shirt, and her expression's conflicted, her hurt shining through no matter how hard she tries to hide it.
“you didn’t have to do this,” she says.
“no... i did,” you huff. “i really did.” she looks away. “but it’s fine. i get it.”
“no,” you say, shaking your head. “you don’t. and i don’t want you filling in blanks that aren’t real.”
she watches you carefully now. “okay?.."
“gojo didn’t know,” you say. “about us. about tonight meaning something to me. he thought he could just show up like always, and that’s on me for not shutting it down sooner.”
she sighs. “you don’t owe me an explanation.”
“i owe you honesty,” you say. “especially after the other night.”
her shoulders drop a little. “... i was excited to see you.” she admits, hugging her body.
oh wow.. your heart drops. “me too.”
rain dripples down your nose and forehead, you're awe struck at the way droplets fall into her lashes and catch on the ends.
“I didn’t want you thinking i chose him,” you say. “because i didn’t. i would have chosen you. every time.” her eyes soften. “i believe you.” you laugh weakly. “thank god.” she steps closer and wraps her arms around you. you hug her back without thinking, rain soaking both of you.
“shit, it’s freezing,” she laughs with melancholy. you huff a laugh. “come back to my place. please.” she nods. “duh. i just missed my bus cuz of you.”
you laugh, embarrassed, and pull her up the pathway, and by the time you get back, you’re both dripping wet. gojo’s mercedes is gone, and relief floods over you. thank fuck.
you step inside and the chill from the air con made both of you shiver. you smile guide her gently toward the bathroom. “you should have a shower. now. before you freeze and die.” she laughs at you as you wish off to grab her a towel and some clothes.
as you shut the door you try your best to not think about her being naked in your bathroom, occupying yourself with whatever you can. you change into comfy, drier clothes, dry your hair, hands still a little shaky.
just as you finish up she comes out dressed in your clothes, with her hair damn and her cheeks flushed pink.
you both pause, then laugh at the same time.
“you look good,” you say, smiling.
“you too,” she replies.
you point to the couch. “c'mon, pick a movie. i’ll order food.”
she settles in, scrolling, glancing at you from under her lashes. you catch her looking at your short pyjama shorts but you pretend not to notice how her cheeks flush a darker colour, and she pretends you didn’t catch her.
“i can’t choose,” she says eventually.
“that’s fine,” you say, sitting down. “we can just talk.” she smiles and scoots closer, turning to face you fully, you set your phone down.
“hi,” she says.
“hi,” you echo, laughing softly.
you’re both so goo goo eyed it’s embarrassing.
rain taps faintly against the window, but you barely register it. all you can really focus on is how close she is, how her knee keeps brushing your thigh every time she moves around, like she’s checking if you’ll pull away.. you, ofcourse, don’t.
shoko glances down, then back up at you. “i was a little sad earlier,” she admits.
your stomach tightens. “about gojo?”
she nods. “yeah. not because of him, really. just because i didn’t know where i stood.”
you swallow. “i hated that you saw that.”
“i know,” she says. “but i’m glad you ran after me.”
“i needed you to know i wasn’t choosing him.” she takes a once over of your face. “and?”
“and i’m not involved with anyone anymore,” you say. “not him. not anyone. except…” you trail off, then look at her. “except you. if you want.” her lips curve into a slow smile. “i do.”
it’s such a simple answer it almost knocks you flat. “i’m only interested in you too,” she adds, like she’s letting you in on a secret.
something loosens in your chest. you laugh, a quiet little sound. “that makes me feel insane amounts of better.”
“good,” she says. “that was the goal.”
you both smile, and then there’s this weird feeling of change, the way you're looking at her and visa versa is like neither of you is pretending this is just friendly anymore.
your eyes fall, against your will, down to the shirt you gave her, it's low cut and shows off her cleavage on the most beautiful way. you definitely chose that shirt on purpose, consciously or subconsciously was the real question.
your eyes flick down one more and you immediately regret it, already bracing for embarrassment because she notices.
and instead of calling you out, she adjusts the shirt, pulling it down, leaning back just enough to make it worse.
there goes the innocent act you were tryna uphold. she catches your reaction and smiles, amused. “you okay?”
“yeah,” you say quickly. “totally. fine.”
she hums. “you’re staring.”
you clear your throat because you were really hoping she wouldn't say anything, then, bashfully you counter with, “you are too.”
she doesn’t deny it. her eyes drop down to your shorts, the way your legs fold under you. “they’re very short.”
“i know,” you say, then wince. “i mean- i didn’t think about it like that, that wasn't like the plan or anything i-”
“mm,” she says. “sure.” she shifts closer. now your knees are touching fully, not just brushing. you take a breath. “can i ask you something?” she nods. “anything.”
oh god what were you doing?
your courage spikes and you spew what had been on your mind for the past twenty minutes. “do you wanna... try that kiss again?” wow, so much for being normal tonight.
her smile turns softer, warmer. “i thought you’d never ask.” she leans in this time without hesitating. your lips meet hers gently, and you’re more present now, less caught in your head. you kiss her slowly, deliberately, like you’re learning her technique. she responds quickly with her hand sliding to your waist, only, as she pulls herself closer to you you can't help the whine that falls from your lips as her tits press firmly against yours, moulding together so she can slip her tongue inside.
they feel so plush, so warm against your chest. like some psychic, she grabs one of your hands and places it against her right boob, letting you explore.
you're breathing heavy at the overwhelming appeal dripping from this exchange, squeezing gently making her gasp into your mouth.
she pulls back for just a second, looking you with lust in her caramel eyes. “can i go a little further?” you nod so fast it’s pathetic. “please.” she smiles and kisses you again, this time with more passion. she's not shy with where she's grabbing, her hands finding your butt and squeezing with a satisfied hum.
hm, so she was an ass girl. good to know.
she then lifts herself up and slips easily into your lap, sitting down on your bare thighs.
"is this okay, baby?" wow you almost moan at the name. from a man's mouth that pet name felt cringe, from hers? you think you cold listen to her say it a million times over.
"this is more than okay." you smile, and she gives you an open mouth kiss in appreciation. she takes your hand and presses it gently against her chest again, your breath stutters and you squeeze lightly. she makes this quiet whine that goes straight to your clit.
you moan softly into the kiss, startled by yourself. her hand mirrors yours, resting over your chest, squeezing just enough to make you melt into her. she’s in control, but she’s watching you closely, checking in without words. it makes you feel safe and secure in a way no man has ever done.
when the kiss finally breaks, you’re both lost for breath and touching foreheads, “wow.”
she smiles against your skin. “yeah.”
just as you're about to go at it after catching your breath, the door bell rings.
"fuck, that's the food..." you mumble. and she laughs as you push off the couch and towards the door. while you're gone, she's trying desperately to fix herself up and hide the mess between her legs, sitting on her knees so you couldn't see the dampness she's sure is there.
she's praying to god she didn't leave anything on your clothes as well..
.
the rest of the night eases into something soft without trying to be. food shows up, it's warm and fragrant, and you eat cross legged on the couch with mean girls playing in the background.
shoko cheekily smiles while stealing your fries and you laugh and take sips of her drink in return. the normalcy of it all feels unreal after how intense everything was an hour ago. you both have a few drinks you'd kept in your fridge, nothing hangover worthy but just enough to slow your brain down.
by now she seems more comfortable as she leans her head against your shoulder and leans into you when she laughs, you grin like a school girl and go with the flow.
halfway through the movie you realise you’re not paying any attention. you’re more focused on the way her fingers are scratching lightly up and down on your thigh, every now and then she glances up at you to gauge your reaction.
you smile and kiss your teeth in reply.
when the credits finally roll, it’s really late. the rain has softened to a quiet patter outside, the city sounding distant and tired.
you clear your throat. “hey.” she hums, looking at you. “yeah?”
“do you wanna… stay the night?” it comes out cautious, like you’re bracing for rejection even though everything in her body language says otherwise. she smiles quickly. “i was hoping you’d ask.”
relief hits you so hard you almost laugh. “okay sweet!” you hop up too fast, nerves kicking back in. “you can take my bed. i’ll grab blankets for the couch.”
she blinks at you. “why?”
“because i invited you over,” you say. “and because i don’t want you to be uncomfortable.” she watches you for a second, then shakes her head. “that won’t be necessary.” you pause. “hmm?”
“just sleep in the bed with me,” she says simply. “if that’s okay.”
your face heats instantly. “oh. i mean. yeah. i just thought-” she steps closer and takes your hand before you can wack out. “we don’t have to do anything. i promise.”
you nod, embarrassed. “i wasn’t assuming.”
she smiles, gentle. “i know. i just want you to feel safe.” that word again. safe, she felt like it's definition at this point.
you take her to your room, showing her around the place abit before sitting on the edge, you watch as she settles beneath your covers and you take it as your sign to copy. your body's stiff and awkward until you lock eyes with her, she for your hand.
“you don’t have to be scared,” she laughs gently. you let your fingers lace with hers. “i’m not.” it’s not entirely true, and you think she could tell by the way she squeezes your hand.
“i don’t want sex tonight,” she adds softly. “i just want to be here with you.”
you didn't know if that was a good thing or a bad thing. “thank you.”
she shifts closer, just enough that your arms brush. it feels so intimate without being too overwhelming. you fall asleep like that, hand in hand, breathing in sync.
~
two weeks of that.
two weeks of hanging around eachothers places, making out on occasion, and watching shitty movies while cuddled up on the couch. la pretty sweet deal, if you did say so yourself.
you didn't have to be some performative pos infront of shoko because she was someone you felt comfortable with, you got to spend optimal time with one of the coolest people you knew, and said person had the same feelings for you as you did for her.
perfect.
well, almost.
the only thing wrong with this infatuating arrangement of swapping spit and touching up on each other, was the fact you hadn't put a label on any of this yet. usually, it would go something like this: you'd meet a guy, maybe screw around a bit, have him begging for your time for a date, go on said date, then you'd be asked out. (not that you'd ever said yes.)
obviously, with two chicks it was a different story. you knew you liked her. god, you liked shoko more than you'd ever liked anyone. with each passing day of just living in her presence, you've learnt that maybe you've been missing out your whole life on this whole gay thing. only thing is, how do you take this relationship to the next level?
do you have sex? is that the next thing? she'd been hinting at it lately but you weren't sure. do you ask her out first? maybe both? sex then a date? date then sex? this was all so confusing. your panicked thoughts came to fruition one night at a white lies party gojo's frat was hosting.
a theme that's been over-done to the max but was always a good laugh.
you'd texted shoko earlier that day to ask what she was up to and if she was coming, and she of course had already been invited by shiu. (who you've since found out is her plug, hence why she's always at the functions, she's lining his pockets as well as being his friend.)
smiling to yourself at the thought of retreating upstairs away from everyone else with shoko, you step into the house and smell that disgusting reek of spoiled alcohol.
a few weeks ago you'd be fluttering around greeting people, but as of late all you could muster is a quick wave as your beelined it to your pretty friend.
so, that's what you were doing. in your white shirt that spelt out "i'm coming" in messy handwriting, you're throwing small greetings to the people you recognise while making your way over the the couch shoko's always at.
you’re halfway across the living room when sukuna, this dumb meat head, spots you.
his eyes drag over you, then snag on your shirt. “no way,” he says, grinning. “is that true for me?” you stop because he steps directly into your path. for gods sake, you wished men you'd fucked months ago would stop thinking they were the centre of your universe. you force a very obviously fake smile and grit out, “it’s just a theme, sukuna.” he laughs, loud and annoyingly self assured. “so you’re saying there’s a chance?"
your gaze flicks past him, already searching for the couch. for her. you spot dark hair, her posture, long slender legs tucked up the way she always sits. relief and the sight of her unfathomable beauty almost makes your knees give out. you try to step around him but he moves again, blocking you off from your precious view. “come on. you telling me i can’t make that shirt honest tonight?”
oh you were so sick of this.
you don't know if it's the weeks of finally feeling content with your life without men like him running things or what, but you bark out a harsh, “move,” he raises a brow. “what?”
“i said move.” there’s no flirt in your voice like you'd usually put on, no. you're kind of over putting on such a facade for people you didn't really care about. the only person you wanted to impress with your charm and social skills right now was sitting on a couch you wished you were sitting at as well.
his grin falls. “damn, relax. i’m just talking.”
“god,” you say flatly. “can you just fuck off.”
a few heads turn. that alone is enough to shock him. you step forward and shove past his shoulder. he stares at your gobsmacked at your attitude. well, you're glad that was over. you were expecting some more yelling from him, so that was a plus.
you finish your journey and there she sits, wearing a white shirt with neat lettering that reads i’m not addicted to nic. you laugh under your breath as you drop down beside her. “liar,” you say.
she glances over, eyes lighting up. “takes one to know one.” you almost kiss her cheek infront of all of these people without thinking. the urge hits so fast it makes your head spin but you stop yourself at the last second, settling for leaning in close.
“hi,” you say instead.
“hi,” she replies softer.
wow, she looks good, it’s distracting.
her boobs looked really good in that shirt, you could faintly see the outline of her bra. you have to curl your fingers into your own thigh to keep from doing something reckless. she notices. her eyes dip then come back to your face, amused. “you okay?”
you swallow. “define okay.” her lips twitch into a smile. “you look… restless.” that’s one way to put it. she leans in close to whisper in your ear “we could go upstairs.” your breath leaves you in a slow exhale. “i’ve been waiting for you to say that.” you get the okay from geto beforehand, and he waves you two off. you'd bother assumed he was still under the impression you were strictly using his room for smoking, he said the smell went with his aura and that shoko could hot box it as much as she wanted. such a poser.
but, in reality, he had an ongoing bet with yuki about how long it would take for the two of you to go public. he knew.
the wooden door closes behind you, and it feels like a switch flips. like the noise and the eyes and the expectations all fall away.
shoko turns to you.
“can i kiss you?” she asks. you nod eagerly. “yes.” she doesn’t rush it. she steps into your space, gives you time to pull back if you want to, and you don’t.
your mouths meet, soft at first, then deeper as you relax into it. it’s so familiar now, but the way she's pushing up against you suggests she's feeling a little frisky.
you break the kiss just long enough to laugh. “why are you being so confident tonight?”
she smiles, forehead resting against yours. “i’ve just been thinking about you all day. can't get you out of my head.”
her voice.. holy shit, her voice. you kiss her again, your hands falling around her waist as hers grip your ass.
she really was being bold. and you loved it.
she now presses you back until your thighs hit the edge of suguru's bed. you sit without breaking the kiss, and she follows, sitting down in your lap.
"for the record, i never stop thinking about you, sho." you huff when the kiss breaks.
she smiles, small and mischievous. “i noticed.” her hands slide under your shirt, palms warm against your skin. your shoulders tense up but then relax when you realise you’re not nervous, you’re just keyed in.
she kisses down your neck, like she'd done a few times before, but now she was doing iit not only with passion, but with lust. she pulls at your shirt collar as she kisses down your collar. “shoko,” you whine, gosh, you never whined like that with men.
she hums against your skin, sultry and hungry. “mm?”
“don’t stop.” that’s all it takes. she nudges you further back onto the bed, guiding you until you’re lying down. she takes her time pushing your shirt up slowly, fingers dragging lightly over your stomach, watching your face the whole time. checking. always checking.
“tell me if you want me to stop,” she says.
you shake your head. “i will.”
“perfect.” she leans down again, looking you dead in your eyes as she drags her tounge from your belly button up to your bra, unhooking it at the back then pulling it off with her teeth.
wow, magic mike much? she's still giving you the fuck me eyes as she takes one of your hard nipples into her mouth, sucking gently pulling more pretty sounds from your throat.
you'd always thought this moment would feel wrong when you finally engaged. that maybe you'd freak out and stop her, but with the way she's murmuring praise and compliments into your skin while she sucks at your body paints a completely different picture.
"you're so beautiful, baby. prettiest tits i've ever seen." she smiles.
before you can thank her with an embarrassed flush, she bites down softly on your nipple and you moan ever so prettily, hooking your fingers into getos sheets.
was it bad you were doing this in your friends bed? probably.
didn't stop either if you though. as she continues kissing down your body, her hands slip into your shorts, thumbs hooking on the waistband. you lift your hips in instinct, helping her. the look she gives you at that is sexy and so approving.
“you're so eager,” she murmurs.
“shut up,” you say, embarrassed, but grinning. she slides your shorts down your legs, followed by your underwear, her movements are so fluid and feminine.
when she looks at you fully like this, open and bare under her gaze, your face heats. you almost cover yourself.
she catches your wrist gently before you can. “hey.” you meet her eyes. “you’re ethereal,” she says, like some simple fact.
and yeah, you knew you were pretty, a multitude of guys would line up to spout that in your ear. but having a beautiful girl like shoko say that meant so much more than all the men in the world combined.
she leans down, kisses your inner thigh, then the other. her mouth is warm, never quite where you want it yet. you squirm, letting out a soft sound you don’t recognise as yours. she smiles against your skin. “relax. i’ve got you.”
and she does.
her fingers part you slowly, like she’s learning how you'll react. she doesn’t rush, doesn’t push. just explores, touches, listens to the way your body responds. when she finally slips a finger inside you, it’s so gentle. you gasp, hands flying to her hair, gripping without meaning to.
she doesn’t tell you to let go.
she adds another finger once you relax around her, curling them just enough to make your thoughts scatter. your hips move on their own, chasing the high you so desperately wanted.
“shoko,” you breathe, a little wrecked already. she looks up at you, eyes focused. “yeah?”
“that feels… really good.” she chuckles softly. “i know.” she leans down again, mouth replacing her fingers for a moment, tongue slow and thorough. you go still, then melt, one hand covering your mouth to keep quiet. she pulls back just long enough to say, “you don’t have to be.
that’s permission you didn’t know you needed. her flat tongue spreads against your clit and you feel like fainting. she watches the way your face contorts in pleasure, and slowly licks through your folds with a hum of pleasure that vibrates through you. you've been eaten out before, but not like this.
not by another woman who knows exactly what to do to make you feel good.
she's lapping you up like a dog, her tongue flicking back and forth over your bud with her own pretty moans. the noises that rip from your throat are otherworldly, sounds you've never made.
"fuck, you taste so sweet, love." she smiles, her lips glistening with your own liquid.
you bite your lip at the sight and grind into the air, asking for more. "aww, so cute". and she dives back in. she alternates between her mouth and her fingers, never letting the building coil in your stomach drop, tightening it carefully. every time you get close, she eases off just enough to keep you right there.
“you’re doing so good,” she hums. "so good for me, baby." it’s almost too much. your body tightens, muscles drawing in, breath uneven. “i’m close,” you whine in between gasps.
she smiles and goes all in, her fingers plunge deep inside you as her mouth works and sucks at your clit, drawing more quips from your throat. shoko was intoxicated with you. your taste had her dripping and the way you were grinding into her mouth so desperately was driving her mad.
she could see why you had so much sex appeal, if this was a performance you were a damn good actor. she speeds up, solely focused on you finishing, hooking her fingers inside of you to reach that sponge spot she knew was making you dizzy. "c'mon, my sweet girl, give it to me."
that gets you, because in a mix of whining and gripping the fabric of the sheets, you come undone all over her fingers.
"atta girl."
after, she kisses your stomach, then curls up beside you, pulling you into her chest. your head fits there like it belongs.
you’re still catching your breath, staring at the ceiling, trying to come back into yourself.
“hey,” she murmurs. you hum in response, too relaxed to form words yet. “you okay?” she asks. you nod. “yeah. more than okay.”
“good,” she says, relief threading through her voice. “stay with me for a sec.”
she pushes off the bed to rummage through geto’s drawer, mumbling something under her breath about him being gross but prepared. when she comes back, she’s holding a packet of wipes she absolutely did not bring herself.
“god,” you laugh. “of course he has those.”
“right?” she says. she sits beside you again and gently helps clean you up, her delicate movements are careful and so, so respectful. she keeps checking your face, your reactions, making sure you’re still comfortable.
“tell me if anything feels weird,” she says quietly. “It doesn’t,” you reply. “it feels… nice.”
she sighs with a smirk that screams 'i'm infatuated with you,' then tosses the wipes aside and pulls you into her arms.
her fingers slide into your hair, combing through it slowly, you didn’t understand just how badly you needed this care until she so graciously gave it to you.
“there you go,” she murmurs. “just breathe.”
she gives your forehead a sweet kiss, then your nose, her hands are still moving against your scalp and you melt into her soft touch. “you did so good,” she says.
your face goes red. “i didn’t really do anything.”
“hmm, you trusted me,” she replies. “that counts.” you move up closer, curling into her.
“i kinda wish,” she adds after a moment, voice thoughtful, “that our first time doing… that… wasn’t in a frat house.”
you laugh softly. “yeah?"
“yeah,” she says. “like. your place. or mine. somewhere quieter. with real blankets. and a locked door.” you tilt your head back to look at her. “are you saying geto’s room isn’t romantic?”
she snorts. “i’m saying his vibes are deeply cursed.”
you laugh and squeeze her arm, "i guess it's kinda romantic since this is where we met,"
she nods and looks down at you with such love in her irises.
“i guess you're right. next time,” she says lightly.
next time. heck yeah, there was a next time.
“hey,” you say. “that was really amazing.” her expression softens. “yeah?”
“yeah,” you nod. “and for the record? you proved my shirt right.” she breaks, laughing, shoulders shaking as she hides her face in your neck. “oh my god.”
“i’m just saying,” you add. “very on theme.”
she lifts her head with her eyes bright. “good to know my reputation remains intact.” you grin, then grow quieter. “thank you. for taking care of me.”
she doesn’t joke this time. she cups your face gently, “always.” the way she looks at you makes your heart feel all gooey and soft, sure, you'd just had your first.. you don’t even know what to call it, with a girl, in a frat house, but it was the most intimacy you'd ever experienced.
she kisses you softly once more then tucks you back against her plush chest. her hand returns to your hair, slow and so soothingly repetitive, like she’s memorising the feel of you. you could fall asleep like this, you think. easily.
alas, “we should probably go back down eventually,” you mumble.
“eventually,” she agrees. “not yet.”
you smile, eyes closing. “okay.”
~
the plan was to go downstairs and go home, but apparently the universe had other plans for you and shoko. you're walking back down the stairs with shoko trailing behind you, when you look over the lounge room and dining area to see gojo.
he’s across the room, leaning against a pillar, his blue eyes already on you. the moment your eyes meet, his face falls. he looks so, so guilty. before you can tilt your head and scrunch your face up at him, he mouths a drunken, 'i'm sorry.' the fuck? sorry for what?
you barely have time to process it before you hear your name.
“oh my god, there she is.”
oh.
you turn, and there they are. the self centred butches you've grown to hate, but ones you’ve also known forever, or at least long enough to know exactly how shallow their look is right now. one of them laughs. “so that’s where you’ve been hiding.”
another tilts her head. “gojo spilled his guts, by the way. about you and this... girl.”
your stomach drops, but your spine stays straight.
“told you what?” you ask. they exchange looks, delighted. “that you’ve been blowing off parties because you’re obsessed with her,” she says, nodding at shoko. “kinda explains a lot.” behind you, you can feel shoko step back slightly, you can see in your peripheral how her shoulders curl into her body as she shys away from these girls nasty glares.
if you weren't pissed the fuck off before, you sure were now. shoko was confident in bed, but not when it came to judgey whores like this. “wow,” you say flatly. “you guys really rushed to conclusions fast.”
“don’t act like it’s not obvious,” one of them says. “you disappear for weeks and suddenly you’re glued to… this fag.”
the word hangs there, ugly even without being said properly. you watch shoko’s jaw tighten. you feel her hand twitch, like she’s deciding whether to leave or stay or disappear entirely.
and that’s it. you're not proud if the way you instantly get up in these girls faces like you were about to knock them in their teeth. “say that again.” you spit. they blink, completely thrown off.
you push the girl who said it back, and she stumbles like a pathetic feather. "don’t call her that." you bark. "insecure hoe's like you really piss me off." by now she's looking at you, then around the room like someone would give her a helping hand. "your life of sucking dick and getting trains ran through you really dumbs down your personality? huh? have to make others feel bad because you're just some pocket pussy?"
the onlookers are pissing themselves laughing and a handful of them are egging you on with the odd cheer. she literally starts crying. you half scoff and half laugh at how pathetic she was being.
maybe that wasn't exactly crystal for your shiny record, but the only thing you can think to care about right now was shoko, and they were making her feel shitty.
one of them scoffs. “you're fucking insane! we're just concerned.”
“no,” you say. “you’re bored.” you step back, placing yourself slightly in front of shoko without even thinking about it. not hiding her. just making it clear where you stand.
geto and yuki, who happened to be nearby, were taking this all in and nodding to themselves, clinking glasses. those two were never a good mix when it came to conspiracy, because their predictions always came to fruition.
“you’re all so wrapped up in your own little worlds that the second someone stops orbiting you, you get nasty,” you say. “and honestly? it’s embarrassing.” more people start looking. “you think you’re better than us now?” one of them snaps.
you shrug. “no. i just think i’m done pretending i like you.” that one stings. you see it hit.
“so what, you’re dating her now?” another says, sneering. “is that it?” you glance at shoko. she’s watching you closely, eyes searching your face, like she’s bracing for impact. you grab her hand.
“yeah,” you say. “maybe i am.”
their faces twist with both disgust and dissatisfaction, the girl you'd clocked was long gone, probably off crying somewhere.
you reach back and take shoko’s hand.
you don’t look away from them as you do it. “if you’ve got a problem with who i like,” you say, “that’s yours to deal with. not mine.”
they look so pathetically small now. mean in a way that isn’t powerful anymore. you turn away from them without another word and start toward the door, tugging shoko gently along with you. people part as you pass, some smiling ear to ear, some indifferent, most already losing interest.
college attention spans are short like that.
you guide her into the night and down the street a few paves. then shoko pulls you into a hug. it’s sudden and oh so tight. her arms wrap around you and her face presses into your shoulder like she needs to make sure you’re still there.
“thank you,” she says quietly. you hold her just as tight. “for what?”
“for that,” she says. “for not letting them talk like that. for… choosing me, i guess.”
you smile into her hair, and squeeze her arm twice. "for you i'd do that a million times over, sho." she pulls back just enough to look at you. her eyes are bright, a little wet, a lot warm.
“you know that was big, right?” she says gently. “for you.”
you nod. “yeah.”
“are you okay?” she asks. you think about it. about the way your chest feels lighter than it has in years. about how scared you were ten minutes ago and how steady you feel now. “yeah,” you say. “more than okay.”
she smiles, then her eyes change from bittersweet to playful.
“so,” she says, tilting her head. “we’re dating now, huh? that’s news to me.”
your face heats up instantly. “what? no, i just- i was proving a point-."
“mm,” she says. “sure.”
“oh gosh,” you blush. “i didn’t mean to, like, announce anything.” she steps closer, getting up in your space. “you don’t want to date me?”
you open your mouth and stumble. “that’s not- i didn’t say-”
she kisses you. her lips mould perfectly with yours. when she pulls back, she smiles. “i’d love to date you.” you stare at her for a good second, then you giggle. “yeah?”
“yeah,” she says. you lean in and kiss her again, grinning into it.
college is messy. people talk. parties get crashed. friendships crack and reform and fall apart.
but right now, with shoko's hand in yours and the night fanning open in front of you, none of that feels so scary anymore.
it feels like a beautiful beginning for you, and this beautiful, allusive girl you'd become infatuated with.
okay, yeah. maybe you were a little gay.
"i haven't seen you smoking lately, what's up with that?"
"i only smoke when i'm stressed. i use your tits as stress toys now, so there's no need."
