#a little joke about the parts of a clock i guess
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yingren · 19 days ago
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aventurine has connected the dots. ren cannot foil his ceaseless gift-giving if he doesn’t even know he’s been gifted til it’s too late. he waits until their time spent together comes to an end one day before he distracts: “have i cleared much of my debt?” he asks, and hopes the answer is ‘no’. a deft hand slips a finely-crafted watch into ren’s pocket, wrapped in a hand-written note. he did promise he’d write, after all, and the note contains a handful of playful complaints about ren’s refusal to accept his money. assured of his victory, he turns smugly to depart.
“ few hours off the debt, sure. though i should really take one off from the time it looked like you were falling asleep behind those shades. ” sending aventurine off with a jest feels easier than actually saying goodbye. ren, as is clear, has never been good at goodbyes — especially the kind that linger in the doorway, those that seem almost unnatural in their heaviness. solitude isn’t foreign to him. in fact, he often prefers it over anything else. but the overwhelming stillness that fills the room once his company leaves is something he’ll never quite grow accustomed to. it isn’t just aventurine. the same happens after spending extended time with kafka or any of the other hunters. the silence hangs in the air, almost oppressive for a moment, before it gradually settles into something more familiar. ren knows it will feel comforting again soon, but in those fleeting moments, it always feels haunting.
with his feet propped up on the round coffee table, ren stares at the blank, lifeless screen of the tv, a thin layer of dust settled on top of it. he invites the silence to envelop him, letting it fill the space. the worn walls of the safehouse now hold more than just old paintings and trinkets from its past, they carry the weight of conversations and the lingering presence of aventurine. there’s something warm about it, a trace that ren can’t help but be drawn to, even if he refuses to acknowledge it outright.
from the floor, infra decides to join him, gracefully stepping over the hunter’s legs as ren remains half-laying on the old couch. at least this one doesn’t have springs poking into his back. the feline doesn’t do much, though ren remembers how, when aventurine was still around, infra seemed more interested in him than in ren, which wasn’t surprising in the least. to call aventurine charming wouldn’t be untrue, but it feels like a hollow description — shallow, almost. in ren's opinion, aventurine is charming when he stumbles. though it is a rarity. when he takes an extra moment to think through his next words, when he isn’t showcasing the effortless persona he’s carefully crafted. ren has seen it before — once, maybe twice — or at least, glimpses of it. it’s not always in what aventurine says, but in the way he moves, or how he carefully reclines when things start to get too personal. to be honest, ren is thinking mostly of the time aventurine appeared at his door, a man near death yet somehow still able to find humor in his predicament. his thoughts are interrupted when infra steps carelessly over his pocket, and ren feels the presence of something else there — something he knows he didn’t place himself.
yingxing was the one who truly enjoyed crafting. more accurately, he couldn’t keep his hands off anything that caught his interest — anything that could be taken apart or fixed, especially if it was broken. ren isn’t all that different though he can never craft another weapon again. after all, he will never be able to craft a lifelike mechanical lion from scrap metal and discarded ingenium parts. his former self, apparently, could — at least, if you believe the stories about his legacy. 
still, it doesn’t take ren more than a single night to fully disassemble the gifted watch. the note that came with it has been read over and over before he finally folded it in half and tucked it into his wallet. the watch itself now sits on the kitchen counter, hours after he found it in his pocket, completely taken apart. each tiny piece is laid out on individual napkins, alongside barely legible notes he jotted down in the heat of the moment. he’s not sure yet what he’s doing with it, or if he’s even doing anything at all. but for now, it’s enough work to occupy his otherwise restless and idle hands.
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[ đŸ“± 16 : 02 ] img attached. [ đŸ“± 16 : 02 ] i think i’ve lost one of the screws [ đŸ“± 16 : 04 ] it was just for the bridge though [ đŸ“± 16 : 04 ] and just one out of three [ đŸ“± 16 : 20 ] you’ll be happy to hear that the cock is fine [ đŸ“± 16 : 20 ] and you only need to screw it once to make sure [ đŸ“± 16 : 22 ] i'll show you [ đŸ“± 16 : 22 ] :)
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zkg2318 · 2 months ago
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Corporate Life pt 3
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genre/tags ✶ MDNI office!au, sunghoon x afab!reader x heeseung, smut, cursing, not proofread, polyamory (surprise)
synopsis ✶ working in corporate was supposed to be boring, not a guessing game of whether your two coworkers were eye fucking you or not.
smut warnings ✶ unprotected penetrative sex (no!), spitting, thigh riding, oral male!receiving, msm (frottage, oral, kissing), double penetration, overstimulation, use of pet names, squirting, ass slapping, threesome
corporate life taglist/ppl that wanted pt3: @17ericas, @hyuukas, @jakeslvt, @heesimp, @hooniedips, @yuniesluv, @yvnempire, @anoranorastar
permanent taglist: @kittys00, @ikaw-at-ikaw
read part 1 here | read part 2 here
A/N sorry for reposting, i think tumblr may have messed up the tags
Waking up was always a challenge for Heeseung, preferring to sleep in rather than wake up at 5:45 a.m. for work. He was, inherently, not a morning person based on the way he fought with Sunghoon every morning before going to work, begging for just five more minutes. Luckily, it was the start of a long weekend, which meant Heeseung could sleep in till nine if he wanted, ten if he was feeling lucky. But Sunghoon was an early riser and often dragged him out of bed by 8:30 a.m., something about enjoying the morning rays together. On a rare occasion like today though, the two men were together in bed with their limbs entangled beneath the comforter. “Heeseung,” Sunghoon mutters, pressing his face into Heeseung’s naked chest.
“What is it, baby?” he hums, threading his long fingers through his boyfriend’s black hair.
“We have to clock in some overtime this weekend.”
Upon hearing the words ‘overtime,’ Heeseung pops upright immediately, a sour expression appearing on his face at the mere mention of work slipping from Sunghoon’s mouth. “What are you talking about?”
“Well, we’ve been a bit distracted at work. You know, with a certain someone.” He mutters, nuzzling into Heeseung’s lap now.
That much was true- they were distracted. Heeseung and Sunghoon weren’t exactly non-monogamous; but the idea of adding another person into their relationship never really crossed their minds, until you showed up. The second you joined their team at work a few months ago, there was a mutual attraction between the boys that neither of them could ignore.
At first, it was casual. They agreed to approach you with the sole intention of having a no-strings attached sexual relationship with you. It wasn’t supposed to go beyond that- just fuck and work. After the second hookup, Sunghoon and Heeseung revealed to you that they were dating and let you know that they wanted to keep things with you purely physical- even if they secretly wanted something more, but neither of them would admit it in fear of ruining things. That was fine with you- the stress of your job was already building up and you needed a quick fix.
But as the months went by, the lines between casual and something more began to blur. Your impulsive, adrenaline induced hookups were beginning to feel more than that. You found yourselves sharing inside jokes and personal secrets over post-sex meals- conversations you wouldn’t be sharing with fuck buddies. But despite that growing connection, none of you pushed for anything more. Whether it was in fear of complicating things or just wanting to keep emotions out of it, the status quo remained.
Your friendship between Sunghoon and Heeseung remained completely separate from your sexual relationship while your budding romance stayed buried under six feet of dirt.
“I didn’t think we were that behind, what’s a little fucking got to do with our work?” Heeseung jokes, stroking Sunghoon’s cheek while ignoring the aching alarm bells ringing in his head.
“We’re behind on our financial report, Namjoon sent an email saying we have to get it in to him on Monday evening.” Heeseung groans at the idea of working over the long weekend, but Sunghoon continues, “And Y/n was cc’d on the email.”
A mix of amusement and stress stirs onto Heeseung’s face, and he tugs on the back of Sunghoon’s shirt, signalling for him to sit up. “I guess we’ll have to invite her over, work on that report all together.” Sunghoon’s lips curl into a smirk as he places a lazy kiss on Heeseung’s mouth.
Letting out a soft chuckle, Heeseung roughly pulls Sunghoon onto him, falling back into bed. With a tug, Sunghoon’s briefs are pulled down and he’s settled onto Heeseung’s lap. “Use me, I’m all yours.” He mutters, peppering kisses across Sunghoon’s neck.
Grinding down into Heeseung’s lap, Sunghoon lowers his head to attach his lips to Heeseung’s neck, sucking around his pulse point. When his tongue flicks over the sensitive skin just below his ear, Heeseung lets out a loud groan and bucks up into Sunghoon, his growing erection rubbing into his boyfriend. “Fuck, you know I’m sensitive there,” he purrs into his ear, licking against the lobe.
“Hyung, I need you,” Sunghoon whispers, swiveling his hips in Heeseung’s lap.
With his hands gripping Sunghoon’s thighs, Heeseung draws a steady breath in through his teeth, “Tell me how you want me,”
“In my mouth.”
Without wasting any time, Heeseung flips them over and presses Sunghoon into the plushness of their mattress. With a few quick pecks to the lips, Heeseung strips out of his sweats, leaving him bare and half-hard in front of Sunghoon. “Bet you wish Y/n was here to keep your fucking mouth busy while I suck you off, hm?” he says, lowering himself to the bulge that was presenting itself so perfectly to Heeseung. His hand ghosts over the imprint of Sunghoon’s cock, the heat of his arousal radiating against his palm.
Sunghoon stifles a moan before squirming beneath Heeseung, “Don’t say stuff like that-”
“Not so confident now that Y/n isn’t here to play dumb under you, Hoonie?” Heeseung teases his boyfriend as he toys with his cock, but there’s no heat behind his words. Laughing quietly, he presses open mouthed kisses against his briefs, earning a breathy moan from Sunghoon.
“S-shut up,” he gasps, grinding up into his face.
Heeseung only smiles against Sunghoon’s cock which was straining beneath him, letting his tongue flick out against the fabric, “It was your idea to approach her in the first place, I’m just fulfilling your fantasies since she isn’t here right now.”
“Stop bringing her up,” he whines, pulling his briefs down himself until his cock springs free, “She’s not dating us, so just keep her out of his.” His words are desperate now as he pushes Heeseung’s face against his pelvis, keeping it to himself as he totally imagines you rubbing against him.
Heeseung knows Sunghoon better than he would ever admit, and he can tell from how he acts around you just how much his boyfriend likes you- far more than Sunghoon would ever let on. And it’d be a lie to say Heeseung didn’t feel the same, so he leans into the teasing knowing Sunghoon was secretly thriving on the idea of you being here with them again. “Cut the act, I know you want Y/n here sitting on your face so you can eat her out, maybe shut you up for a bit.”
Finally, he takes him into his mouth, first dragging his tongue up the shaft and feeling the length of Sunghoon’s vein reach the tip. While his mouth moves up and down Sunghoon’s cock in a rhythmic motion, Heeseung lets his hand travel underneath Sunghoon’s shirt, finding his nipples. A moan escapes from Sunghoon’s lips once Heeseung starts to rub his nipples with the back of his fingers, “Heeseung-” he whines, cock twitching upwards in his boyfriend's mouth.
While Heeseung plays with Sunghoon’s cock in his mouth, he rubs himself into the bed, slowly grinding into it as he imagines it’s your ass underneath him. He shamelessly pictures you moaning below him, begging him to just stick it in and stop teasing you. Memories of your slicked up folds flash across his mind and he groans around Sunghoon’s cock, a chain reaction that sends Sunghoon into a fit of moans himself. Heeseung goes ahead and starts to flick Sunghoon’s nipples, looking up at his boyfriend as he swirls his tongue around the shaft.
Under the control of Heeseung, Sunghoon fights the urge to fuck up into his throat, but heeseung the all-observing boyfriend seems to notice his turmoil, “Fuck my throat baby, give it to me.”
Sunghoon doesn’t need to be told twice, bumping his hips into Heeseung’s face quickly and relishing in the way the tip of his cock rubs the back of Heeseung’s tight throat. The sudden change in pace has Heeseung gagging, forcing him to focus more on keeping his throat open and his breath steady than decorating his boyfriend’s cock with his tongue.
With Sunghoon’s cock filling his mouth, Heeseung’s mind wanders to the thought of you crying out while he thrusts into your quivering heat, clenching his dick like a vice while Sunghoon’s gaze fixed on every thrust. Heeseung had always known Sunghoon had a thing for watching; it was part of the reason why he had been given the green light to fuck you first. But you didn’t need to know that.
“Mmph, fuck-” Sunghoon cries, holding Heeseung’s wrists as they play at his nipples, the added stimulation bringing him closer and closer to the edge. “Relax your throat, Seungie- fuck, that’s it.”
When Sunghoon’s pace begins to fall off, Heeseung moves his hands back down to rest on his pelvis, pushing him down into the bed so he can control them now. He continues his assault on his boyfriend’s dick, going at it for a minute more before pulling off, moving to use his hands instead of his mouth now to finish him off. Sunghoon grips at the bedsheets like a vice, clutching them like his life depends on it as he thrusts into Heeseung’s hand, the saliva from his mouth acting as the perfect amount of lube.
Heeseung adjusts his position so that he can hold both his and Sunghoon’s cock together, spitting into his hand to share the lube-like saliva between the both of them. “Fuck, imagine Y/n was sitting here, bouncing up and down our cocks at the same time. Stretching her out so fucking good, hm?” Heeseung pants, finding himself close to the edge as he pumps their shafts quickly.
“I’m cumming, fuck!”
Heeseung tightens his grip slightly, right as the slit on Sunghoon’s dick opens to release streams of cum. The first few are strong, reaching as far as his blissed out face. The following spurts of arousal are less strong, some hitting his chest and the rest hitting his stomach, eventually slowing down to a slow dribble leaking out of his tip.
Heeseung follows just a second after, his own stream of cum leaking out at a less intense volume, shooting straight up. The two of them pant in tandem together, catching their breaths as their cum falls down the divots of their bodies and onto their sheets.
“Thank God it’s laundry day.” Sunghoon says finally, moving around Heeseung.
Heeseung gets off to help Sunghoon, throwing their pillows off and ripping the top corners of the bedsheet off while Sunghoon does the bottom. The two men work together in a comfortable silence, a rhythm they’ve fine tuned after years of being together. “When should we contact Y/n?” Heeseung asks, breaking the silence.
Sunghoon tenses, but it’s barely noticeable as Heeseung takes the hamper from his hands. “Maybe tomorrow?” he says, letting Heeseung take the laundry, “We can meet her at the cafe near our place.”
Heeseung shakes his head, hiking the hamper up on his hip, “I think it’s best we invite her here. The documents are kind of sensitive, best we don’t bring them to a place we could lose them.” Sunghoon doesn’t get the chance to offer a second opinion, watching his boyfriend's back disappear around the corner.
Sunghoon stays rooted in his spot, standing in the middle of the bedroom of their shared apartment they moved into at the beginning of the year. A part of him was torn, wondering if they were taking things too far by bringing you into their sex life when you weren’t even there. It was one thing to keep this friends with benefits facade up at work, but to think about you outside of that relationship, outside of work without your knowledge- had they crossed an invisible line?
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For the rest of the day, Sunghoon mopes around the apartment, his usual warm self dulled by the weight of his guilty conscience. Heeseung had tried to pull him out of it, making silly animal origami out of the freshly laundered towels, or sneaking kisses in while they were cooking, but Sunghoon’s responses remained colorless. “Is everything alright?” Heeseung finally asks, settling onto the couch as they prepare to watch a movie, a night time ritual they have on the weekend.
Sunghoon hesitates, “Do you think we should call things off with Y/n?”
Heeseung sets aside the popcorn that was sitting in his lap, the large blue bowl clashing with the muted decor they had chosen together at Ikea. “What makes you think that?” His hand rises to cradle Sunghoon’s cheeks, his thumb gently rubbing at the soft plushness.
“We’re in love with her,” he says, like dropping a bomb, “Right?”
Heeseung’s thumb stops moving, and he thinks his heart skips a beat. Sunghoon wasn’t wrong, but he truly thought that they were just going to remain blissfully unaware of that fact, for the sake of their job- and their relationship. “I- Sunghoon, I don’t-”
“It’s ok, I think I’m in love with her too,” Sunghoon clarifies, capturing Heeseung’s hand with his, “I don’t think we respected our own boundaries with Y/n. We let ourselves get too close, and now we’re breaking the easiest rule of the game.” He sighs, running his free hand through his hair as he thinks, “I think it’s best we call this off. Y/n didn’t sign up for two men pining after her, and if we keep this going, we’ll just ruin what we have.”
Heeseung leans forward to press a kiss to Sunghoon’s cheek, “Ok,” he pauses for a moment before continuing, “I’m fine with that. But I do want to ask- are you telling me you wanted to date her? Like, add her to this relationship?”
“I don’t know, and honestly we’ve never really discussed this. I trust you with my life, Heeseung. But it’s clear the both of us felt something for Y/n, which is why I felt comfortable enough to let my feelings for her grow. I think in an ideal world, where we got to know Y/n instead of hooking up with her through work, I would’ve liked to discuss polyamory with you.”
Heeseung’s lips crack into a smile, “God, I love you.” he says, pulling Sunghoon in for a hug, “You always know what to say, I just hope Y/n understands what we mean.”
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Like the boys had agreed, they invite you over to their apartment the following evening to work on the financial report. They insisted things would be casual- just some takeout and a table full of documents is what Heeseung had said to you over the phone. You were hesitant though, the idea of dinner at their place felt strangely intimate, sharing a meal with a couple in their own home felt like an intrusion you weren’t ready to risk.
You find yourself pacing in front of their building, clutching at the end of your jacket for a moment longer than necessary. You debate whether or not to text them, to tell them that something urgent had come up- but your body was moving faster than your mind, pressing the buzzer before you could follow through. It’s Heeseung that responds, his cheerful voice crackling through the speaker as he recites the code for the door.
32 floors is how long you have until you face them, and you spend the entire time fidgeting with the hem of your blouse, the tension mounting with each passing second. Elevators were such an awkward place for you now, considering your history with them; only amplifying your anxiety as memories of being pressed up against Sunghoon resurface. By the time you’re knocking on their door, you’re about to turn on your heel, second-guessing everything you’ve done until the door clicks open.
Sunghoon is the one that opens the door, an easy smile on his face that has you temporarily relaxing your shoulders, “Hey, glad you made it,” he says, stepping to the side to let you in.
You notice the way he’s dressed immediately- an oversized t-shirt displaying a band you don’t recognize and wide-legged sweats, a far cry from the usual sharp suits he sported at the office. You look down at your own outfit, a short fleece jacket zipped over your pink blouse and a pair of wide-legged slacks, nothing special but formal enough to pass in. Still, standing before Sunghoon while inside of his humble apartment, you suddenly felt overdressed.
Slipping in to enter, the first thing you notice is the scent- the faintest hint of lavender laundry detergent that discreetly smelt like Sunghoon whenever he pressed up against you too much in the office. Their apartment was also surprisingly neat; its muted tones accented by pops of their personality- colorful figurines on their shelves, a keyboard in the corner, some figure skates near the closet, etc

Sunghoon points at a pair of house slippers for you to slip into, holding his arm out for you to hold onto as you kick your shoes off. “Thanks,” you say quietly, stepping into the slippers and following after him. He briefly gives you a tour of their place, showing you the dining room, then the kitchen, where the bathroom is, and then ultimately the living room.
The coffee table centered in front of their two couches was already set up, half of it full of takeout boxes and plastic bags and the other half neatly organized with folders and stacks of paper. Heeseung is already sitting, his legs tucked under the table while leaning against the base of the couch. When he sees you and Sunghoon enter, he brings a hand up to wave at you before patting the space beside him. “I hope Chinese is okay, Sunghoon forgot to hit the order earlier so this was the only place that would deliver in time before you got here.”
“Chinese is perfect, thanks,” you reply with a soft laugh, placing your bag down beside you as you sit next to him.
With Sunghoon sitting across from you, dinner passes quickly. Small talk is shared between the three of you over some noodles and several side dishes you can’t remember the names of. The conversation feels uncomfortably familiar- office gossip and discussion of your weekend plans being a routine banter you shared with them in the break room, and disconcertingly immediately after hooking up as well, like it was second nature.
It unsettles you how natural it feels, the camaraderie that forms so easily between you three. All the laughter and shared touches pulling you in deeper before you even realize. It almost felt wrong to feel this comfortable with them, sitting in their apartment and intruding on their personal lives all while knowing their bodies inside out. This intimacy you shared with them feels so wrong but so right, but it was an imposition on their personal relationship and was a clear violation of their friends with benefits boundaries.
This- this was why you didn’t want to come here, because you didn’t want to blur these lines any further.
“Did you want anymore?” Heeseung’s voice pulls you from your thoughts, his hand gesturing over your plate.
“No, I’m okay, thank you.” You push your plate away as a signal to show him you’re full. “What was the name of this place?”
“Bao’s Kitchen.” Heeseung says as Sunghoon begins to clear the table. “Did you like it?” You nod, piling the trash near you in one stack before handing it to Sunghoon.
“Alright,” he says, pulling out his laptop and placing it in front of him, “Namjoon said he wanted the financial report in by Monday. But I spoke to Jin on the phone earlier today and there are a few leftover tickets we need to finish for Monday’s meeting. Our annual conference is coming up soon, so we should get a head start on preparing our speaker notes for that, too.”
Nodding along with his words, you shove the unease down your throat and pull out your own laptop, mimicking Heeseung’s motions as you pull up your workspace. When Sunghoon returns, he distributes portions of the documents and the three of you settle into a comfortable rhythm, bouncing ideas off of each other and sharing progress reports every few minutes.
In the quietness of your work, you can’t help but notice the shuffling limbs under the table. With a slight glance downwards, you see Sunghoon and Heeseungs legs rubbing against one another, a motion of affection shared between just the two of them and you can’t help but feel a little empty on the inside. A hollow ache gnaws on the inside of your chest. Was it jealousy? Longing for someone else to have all to yourself? You couldn’t tell, but you knew that seeing them together made your heart flutter in a way you weren’t sure you wanted to define.
Shaking your head, you scold yourself internally for fantasizing about a dynamic that wasn’t yours to claim. There were rules- simple rules that were so simple a child could follow them: don’t get attached. And here you were, breaking every single one of them like they didn’t even matter.
By the time you’re about to finish the end of your report, you’re thinking of saying something, maybe telling them that it was time for you to go home. You were suffocating under the ruse of pretending everything was fine when everything was in fact, not fine. You couldn't keep pretending not to notice the subtle glances Sunghoon and Heeseung shot each other, or the gentle praises Heeseung gave his boyfriend when he completed parts of his work. Before you can even begin to pack your things though, Sunghoon breaks the silence.
“We need to talk,” he says, seriousness laced in his voice as he shuts his laptop.
A lump forms in your throat and you begin to hope they can’t hear your heart thump outside of your chest as you struggle to maintain your composure, “Ok, what’s up?”
Sunghoon and Heeseung exchange a glance before he speaks again, his gaze lingering over yours, “Heeseung and I have been talking
 about the arrangement,” he gestures between you and the two of them, now avoiding your gaze before continuing. “We think it might be best if we stop seeing each other like this.”
The words are like a punch to the gut and you almost find yourself out of breath, instinctually bracing against the coffee table, “What?” is all you manage to say.
Heeseung leans forward, resting his arms on the table, “We just think it’s getting too complicated. We’re falling behind in work, and we don’t want you to get hurt- or us.
You let out a scoff before you realize it, “Complicated?” you argue, “It’s just sex, right? That’s what we agreed on.”
Sunghoon looks down, his expression pained with guilt, “It’s not just sex anymore, not for us.”
“We don’t want to hurt you,” Heeseung continues, which Sunghoon cannot.
Your mind reels with confusion as you listen to them, panic surging through you as you begin to pack your belongings. “You’re not, so let’s just keep things like it is,” you place your laptop into your bag, fumbling around with the zipper, “I don’t see any issues, I like things how they are.”
“Y/n,” Heeseung reaches out to you, brushing a hand against your shoulder. His touch stills you temporarily, but it only works for a second before it adds to your resolve to start ignoring everything that comes out of their mouths after that. “Y/n, we’re in love with you.”
You’re not listening, too busy still fumbling with the damn zipper on your bag to hear him clearly. This wasn’t the plan. This wasn’t in the fucking rule book of fucking with your coworkers. Finally, with enough force, the zipper on your bag closes and you stand up, “If we just follow the rules, our arrangement should be fine. I’ll finish the rest of my part tonight-”
Sunghoon and Heeseung stand up with you as well, the latter reaching for your shoulder to ground you, “You aren’t listening, Y/n. We broke the fucking rules, we fell.”
The finality of his words eventually crashes over you, clicking in your head what he means, “So what do we do, then?” you whisper, braving an inch and letting your gaze match his.
“W-what?” Sunghoon steps around the table to stand behind you.
“I- never mind.” you stammer, stepping back only to walk into Sunghoon when you do. He catches you by your arms, holding you in the middle of the living room now. “I’ll send you guys an email once I finish my report-”
“Y/n, you need to talk to us.” Sunghoon says sternly, turning you around to face him.
You chew on the inside of your cheek, the truth clawing its way out, “I broke the rules too, so now what?” your voice is hardly above a whisper, and if Sunghoon weren’t standing so close to you, he probably wouldn’t have even heard you.
Sunghoon’s grip on your arm goes firmer as he takes in your words, processing the weight of them while glancing over at Heeseung, “You- you broke the rules too?”
Avoiding his gaze, you nod, feeling tears well up in your eyes. “I didn’t mean to,” you start, your voice trembling with shame, “I couldn’t help it, being around the two of you. I didn’t want to hope for anything out of something that already has enough love, and that scared me.” Your throat runs dry at your confession, but you swallow anyways, an award attempt at distracting yourself from the tension ruminating around you.
Heeseung lets out a sharp breath and moves to step around you so that he stands beside Sunghoon, “Why didn’t you say anything?”
“Because that’s the rules?” you say, blinking away your tears, “I’m just an extra, an afterthought to your guys’ relationship. Isn’t that why you approached me? For sex?”
Sunghoon bites his lip, your words crashing over him like a tsunami. It killed him because you were so right, but you were also terribly wrong, “We thought we were protecting our own dynamic by not talking about these feelings we had for you, but we were wrong. You’re not an afterthought, Y/n. We want you in our lives, but we approached the situation all wrong. We got greedy and told you it was all about sex when it was more than that, and for that we’re sorry.”
“I think that knowing you share the same feelings for us now changes things though,” Heeseung adds, reaching to hold your hand in his.
“What do you mean? Like, I’d date you guys? But- you’re already together? I don’t understand, it’s-”
Heeseung squeezes your shoulder with his freehand, pulling you out of your rambles, “It doesn’t have to make sense, Y/n. All that matters is that we’re all happy, and if that means including you in this relationship, then we’ll do that- if you’re open to that.”
“If you want this- us.” Sunghoon says, gesturing between him and Heeseung.
You let out a shaky sigh, a breath of tension you didn’t know you were holding, “I just want things to work out,” you say.
“So we’ll figure it out.” Sunghoon reaches for your face, a gesture so intimate you almost cry. “No rules or arrangements, just the three of us- together.” His dark eyes bore into your own for what feels like an eternity, and for the first time since you’ve started your job, you feel like you belong somewhere. His hands are warm against your cheek as he uses his thumb to rub against the skin softly.
“God, someone kiss me already,” Heeseung interrupts, rolling his eyes.
Sunghoon only laughs, moving his hand from your cheek to the back of your neck so he can guide you over to Heeseung. When you're close enough, Sunghoon gently pushes your face into his until you’re kissing, but this time it felt different. It was gentler, more intimate than all the other kisses you shared with Heeseung during work hours in the stairwell and conference rooms. For the first time since you started this sexual relationship, you take the time to feel him out, acknowledging the way his heart-shaped lips meld against yours perfectly.
Heeseung opens his mouth after a few seconds, swiping his tongue across your bottom lip to ask for permission to enter. You gladly accept, meeting his tongue with your own. As the kiss between you deepens through the connection of your tongues, Sunghoon begins to gently caress your hair while trailing warm kisses down your neck. The heat of his breath in your neck has you moaning into Heeseung’s mouth, resulting in a smile dancing on the latter’s face as he presses another kiss on you.
Overtaken with love and desire, you let one hand go to wrap around Heeseung’s neck as if he can’t get any closer to you while the other hand threads into Sunghoon’s hear, tugging at it when he nips at your neck. Sunghoon starts to unbutton your blouse, assisting you in shrugging it off completely, followed by your lacey black bra that they don’t even spare a second glance at. The younger boy is quick to attach his mouth to your tits, loudly sucking on them. “You like when Sunghoon sucks on your tits, baby?” Heeseung asks, breaking away from the kiss.
You nod desperately, moving your hand from his neck down to his sweats. He doesn’t break eye contact when you start to palm him through the thin fabric, feeling him grow under your touch. It’s not until your fingers wrap around his length completely that he closes his eyes and throws his head back, a guttural groan following right after.
When he’s decided he’s had enough of your teasing, Heeseung moves backwards until he’s sitting on the couch, reaching out to pull you right onto his lap. “Grind on me, let me see you use me,” he pants, replacing Sunghoon’s mouth with his hands, grabbing firmly at the mounds.
As you begin your ministrations against his erection, Sunghoon comes to stand behind you, rubbing his bare hard on against your back. He doesn’t say anything, just rubs against you as he watches you and Heeseung rut on each other. Eventually, he leans down to help guide your hips over Heeseung, establishing a rhythmic pattern which has Heeseung fighting back a moan with every forward stroke.
When his hands depart from your hips, you look up to see why but Sunghoon quickly captures your neck, tilting your chin back even further and motioning for you to open your mouth. Following his instructions to a tee, you not only open your mouth but stick out your tongue, watching as he pushes a wad of spit from his pink lips and let the string of saliva drip down onto your tongue, “Good girl, can you swallow?”
You swallow obediently, licking your lips for extra measure, “Fuck, more
”
While you’re distracted with Sunghoon, Heeseung takes his top off and throws it somewhere across the living room. Sunghoon notices, “Take his pants off,” Sunghoon whispers, leaning down to lick into your mouth before tearing away from you.
Nodding absentmindedly, you get off of Heeseung enough to pull his sweats down along with his underwear, revealing an angry red cock dripping with precum. “He needs someone to take care of him, jerk him off a little. Can you do that for us, baby?” Sunghoon asks, moving to flick his fingers against your nipples.
Before you can respond, Heeseung interrupts, “Strip first.”
A furious red flashes across your face and you quickly kick off your slacks along with your panties, leaving you just as bare as Heeseung is. When you go to sit back on top of him, Heeseung curses, “You’re getting me wet, slut.” He says, pointing at the glistening patch on this thigh, right where you sat on him.
“I-I’m sorry,” you whisper, looking down in embarrassment.
“Make it up to me by letting me fuck up into your fist.” He moves your hand for you, placing it around his member. After a quick adjustment, he starts to thrust upwards and you watch in awe as the top half of his dick goes in and out of your first, “I can feel you getting wetter. Are you getting off to this? Watching me fuck into your first, imagining it’s your pussy?” he gasps, losing his rhythm slightly, “So fucking tight, all for us, right?”
You nod just as Sunghoon moves to sit next to Heeseung, completely bare as well with his pretty pink cock resting against his abdomen. “You can touch yourself, baby.” Heeseung says to Sunghoon, sticking his tongue out for Sunghoon to suck on. His hand immediately flies down to his member, stroking it quickly as his lips wrap around Heeseung’s tongue, lewd noises emitting from their connected mouths.
Watching them share themselves with each other so willingly as you ride Heeseung’s thigh has you letting out a gush of arousal, drenching Heeseung’s thigh in even more slick, “Y/n likes that Hoonie. Likes watching us kiss, seeing you stroke yourself.”
With Heeseung talking like that and Sunghoon stroking himself in front of you, you lose yourself. Your hips stutter to a stop as you press down on his thigh, your orgasm ripping through you as you cum all over his leg, “Baby
 couldn’t even wait till she was riding on of us before cumming,” Heeseung mocks, staring at your pussy. “Lay down for me, Sunghoon.”
Following his instructions, Sunghoon moves to lay down on the couch and Heeseung pulls you to sit on top of him, “Go ahead, put it in.” He gestures towards his dick, and you nervously obey him, blindly reaching behind you until you feel Sunghoon’s shaft. It takes a bit of time, but eventually, you feel Sunghoon’s shaft pressing against your entrance and the two of you moan at the same time when his tip penetrates you, “That’s it, pretty. Doing so well.”
You take your time sinking down, which is apparently too slow for Heeseung because he’s moving towards you, tapping your shoulders. “You’re taking your sweet time, aren’t you?”
“He’s big,” you whine, wincing as you go down another inch.
“I know, baby,” he laughs, smirking at Sunghoon who blushes a furious red, “What’re you gonna do when there’s two of us inside of you?”
Shock grapples you and you let yourself completely sink down on Sunghoon by accident, the burn from the stretch bringing tears to your eyes, “Fuck!” you cry out, slamming your hands down on his chest as an anchor right as Sunghoon brings his hands to your hips to keep you still.
Heeseung backs off when he sees the pain on your face, pity and arousal gracing his features while he watches you take Sunghoon’s cock. He moves to sit down on the couch, lifting Sunghoon’s head just enough so he can slip under it and lay him on his lap, “You look so good, Y/n. Taking Sunghoon’s cock like a good girl.” He looks down at Sunghoon, “You gonna fuck her yet?”
You roll your eyes once the stretching of his member finally becomes bearable, lifting off of him halfways before plopping back down. Eventually, you find yourself going faster and faster until your ass is slapping against his hips with every bounce. You move your hands from his chest, one going to your tit while the other going to your clit, “Fuck, you’re so damn tight.” Sunghoon curses, moving his hands to your ass as he takes over the pace. He fucks into you at a savage intensity, reeling when his balls slap against your cunt with each thrust.
You feel the drag of his cock so well in this position, rubbing against your walls as if they’re molding to the shape of him. As time drags on, you feel yourself getting closer and closer to a second orgasm, clenching sporadically around his length which earns a rough groan from Sunghoon, “I’m gonna cum if you keep doing that, baby.” He whines, speeding up his pace.
You don’t listen to him, instead letting yourself go completely when you see Heeseung lick his fingers and then stick them inside Sunghoon’s mouth. When Sunghoon starts to swirl his tongue around Heeseung’s digits and suck on them pathetically, a massive wave of pleasure washes over you and you swivel your hips around Sunghoon, riding out your high.
Sunghoon is quick to follow, your pussy squeezing him in a way that’s milking him of everything he’s got. “Good boy, fucking her full of your cum.” Heeseung says, stroking Sunghoon’s hair as his dick twitches inside of you, your walls painted with his cum.
When you finally let yourself relax around his softening member, Heeseung moves to stand beside you, gently pushing you forward until your chest is pressed against Sunghoon’s. With a few pumps of his cock, he lines himself up with your entrance, “Heeseung!” you gasp, feeling his tip push into your entrance while Sunghoon is still inside.
“It’ll be much easier for me to slip in now that your pussy is drenched in Sunghoon’s cum,” he says, finally breaching your entrance with one final push. The rest of him slides in easily, just like he said, and both you and Sunghoon let out a moan of overstimulation as he stretches you out in ways you’ve never been stretched.
It’s barely bearable, likely because Sunghoon is soft now, but that temporary feeling doesn’t last long. “Hyung-” Sunghoon gasps, hands running up and down your back frantically, “It’s too much!” Whether he intended to or not, he quickly hardens up again, stretching you out even more. The feeling of his boyfriend’s cock rubbing against his own was just too much for him to handle, quickly arousing him.
The burning sensation returns at ten fold and you cry out, feeling like you’re being ripped in half as Heeseung very slowly moves around, “Mmph, Sunghoon-” you cry, tucking your face into his neck as he begins to desperately hump upwards.
“I’m sorry-” he says, gripping your sides tightly, “Fuck, I can’t help it. It feels really good, baby.”
Whichever ‘baby’ he’s referring to, you don’t care because Heeseung doesn’t waste a second more before he starts moving. He has the decency to stay slow, patiently moving back and forth to let you adapt to the sheer size of two cocks stretching you out; but you don’t feel any pleasure at all, just the feeling of being ripped to pieces. “It-it hurts!” you whimper, but your body moves on its own, barely grinding against the two men as they move in tandem together.
A sharp slap to the ass has you reeling in both pleasure and pain, temporarily distracting you from the penetration, “If it hurts so much, you wouldn’t be rutting against Sunghoon and I like a dog in heat,” Heeseung hisses, picking up his pace as he starts slamming his hips into you.
Coincidentally, the burning starts to go away gradually once he starts moving into you faster, eventually becoming pleasurable all together. You can’t control the sheer volume of your moans as their cocks move against each other while inside of you rubbing your walls and coating them with precum. They’re hands squeeze at your body in desperation with every clench of your pussy, the fit already tight enough. Your lower abdomen boils with a pleasure you’ve never felt, blossoming with more and more arousal with every thrust.
You can’t feel your legs and sobs wrack your body in the best way possible as they continue to fuck into you like a toy, Sunghoon supporting your entire upper body weight while Heeseung holds onto your hips while drilling into you. Heeseung’s got more leverage from behind, snapping his hips in and out of you like a beast. You’ve lost how many times you’ve orgasmed at this point, your entire body shaking as the boys fight for their own highs while using your pussy as their vice.
“Touch yourself, baby,” Heeseung says suddenly, “I need to feel your pussy clenching around me when I cum,”
“I- I can’t, it’s too much. So
tired.”
“You can do it baby, you’ve got one more left in you,” Sunghoon coos into your ear, dragging his fingers up your back all while thrusting his hips into you from below.
With slow movements, you lift yourself off of Sunghoon just enough to reach your arm between the two of you, going for your clit. When your finger starts rubbing circles around the sensitive bud, you immediately begin to shake as the extra stimulation has you nearing the edge rather quickly, “Mmph, I think I’m gonna cum again!” you sob, the coil in your stomach having snapped completely as the boys continue to drill their cocks into you.
“Fuck, I’m gonna cum.” Heeseung pants, “Gonna fill your pussy up with so much cum,” his hips stutter to a stop as he fills you up with his load, Sunghoon quickly following in suit. You’re too fucked out to notice the end of their chase towards arousal, continuing to rub at your clit absentmindedly as they work through their highs. With a slight of hand, you feel a rush of liquid spurt out of you as a tsunami of pleasure rips through you.
The velocity of your arousal forces both of their cocks out, liquid spraying everywhere as you continue to rub yourself through it, moaning and screaming through every after shock of pleasure. Sunghoon and Heeseung hold you up together as you go limp, weeping quietly and barely processing Heeseung’s soothing words, “So good, baby. You did so good for us, Y/n.”
“We’re so proud of you, we’ll take care of you now. Just rest, Y/n.”
You think it was Sunghoon’s voice you heard last before passing out, the smallest smile on your tear stricken face.
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just-jordie-things · 1 year ago
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fuck it, i love you - okkotsu yuuta
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word count: 11k warnings: none really. reader likes lemon oreos bcuz i projected onto this <3 summary: (y/n) and yuuta get to know each other better over the phone while he's on assignment in africa. feelings ensue. more info: long distance friends to lovers, yuuta got that romance dawg in him
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[ and you know everyone adores you // you can’t feel it and you’re tired // baby, wish that you would hold me or just say that you were mine // but it’s killing me slowly ]
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The first time he gets a call from her, Yuuta is a little perplexed before he answers the phone.  Of the few people he might’ve expected a phone call from, (y/n’s) was the last name he expected to see on his screen.  Nonetheless, he answered it right away.
“Hello?” 
“Hey, Okkotsu,” Her voice was so cheerful, he could’ve easily believed that she meant to call someone else.  But she’d said his name, so it couldn’t have been a mistake.  “How’s Morocco?”
“Morocco, is
.” He trails off, fingers tapping a poor rhythm on the table in front of him.  Doing paperwork in a hotel room wasn’t ideal.  The desk provided was always small, and the chair always uncomfortable.  But it wasn’t like he had a lot to report anyways.  “It’s alright, I guess” 
“Alright, you guess?” She repeats curiously.  “Sounds like you’re bored already” 
“Bored-? N-no, no I’m not bored,” He stammered over his words, and (y/n) could be heard laughing through the line.  “I’m just, um, I’m trying to do a report right now” He said sheepishly.
Trying being the key word.  He’d practically given up ten minutes before he got her call anyways.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” (y/n) apologized right away.  “Am I keeping you? Should I go?” 
“N-no!” Yuuta squeaked, cringing at himself as he slumped back into his hair, covering his face with his hand as if there was anyone else around to hide his embarrassment from.  “No, you’re not keeping me, I
 I have nothing for this report anyways” He explained.
“Really? Not goin’ so well?” She asked.
“Uh- it’s just- I don’t want to bore you with it,” He sighed.  “Anyways, what’s the call for? Isn’t it like
” He glances behind him at the analog clock on his bedside table, wincing when he sees how late it was.  “Three in the morning, your time?” 
“Actually, it’s only two forty-five,” She corrects with a clear smile in her tone.  “And aren’t I allowed to check in? You’ve been gone, for like, weeks” 
“Y-yeah, you’re allowed,” He mumbles back, face feeling hot.  “I just figured, y’know, you’re
 busy” 
“Never too busy,” She half-jokes.  “So tell me all about it, boring parts and all” 
Yuuta’s brows pinch together, a small scoff leaving his throat.
“Really?” He’s unsure as to why she’d want to hear about the ins and outs of a trip that so far had proven to be pointless.  “You sure you want to hear about it?” 
“Course,” She hums back.  “Beats studying” 
So he complies.  There’s not much to tell, but he finds a way to walk her through what his day-to-day with Miguel was like.  Looking for more of the Black Rope.  She seemed to have some interest in the cursed tool, asking excitedly if it could stop the cursed techniques of even the strongest special grade sorcerers.
“Yeah, that’s kinda the point,” He chuckles.  “But it’s been slow.  I’m starting to think this is going to take longer than we thought
” 
(y/n’s) a good listener.  She lets him ramble on even when he’s not making sense, and continues to prod and ask more questions when she comes up with them.  He thinks maybe she’s just stalling to keep her from studying, but he figures there were countless other things she could’ve done to keep her occupied
 right? 
It’s not until Yuuta notices the clock and remembers the time difference between them that he finally stops his rambling and suggests they end their call soon.
“Ah- it’s late, and I’m probably boring you now, too” He lets out a light hearted chuckle that she can’t help but reciprocate.
“I guess I should try to study just a little” She huffs.
Yuuta scoffs, a small smile on his face as he picks up his pen and stares at the half-finished report in front of him.  Maybe he’d been stalling, too.
“Or you could just go to bed, cram last minute tomorrow” He suggests.
She seems amused by that, and when she lets out a little laugh he thinks it’s the right choice, too.  The noise comes out lazily, full of sleepiness.  It’s obvious even through the phone.  Yuuta wonders if she’s hunched over her desk, ignoring the textbook and notes right in front of her.
“You’re pr’lly right,” She murmurs, her tiredness even more evident in her voice.  “I guess I’ll go to bed then” 
“Okay,” Yuuta drums the pen against his thigh in an erratic beat.  Something about saying goodnight makes him feel a little disappointed.  
Until now, he hadn’t realized that it had been weeks since he’d casually talked to a friend.  Toge texted plenty, and sometimes he heard from Panda and Maki, too.  But this felt
 different.
“Well, goodnight-” 
“And Okkotsu?” She interrupts him without realizing, quickly apologizing before she continues her thought.  “You didn’t bore me, just for the record.  I think it’s neat that you get to be on such a special assignment.  I hope that it gets more exciting for you” 
He’s thankful that she didn’t opt to facetime him, because his face grows so warm he just knows he’s turned into a tomato.  And something about sitting in his lonely little hotel room and blushing over such a simple comment is downright embarrassing.
He laughs nervously, tugging at the collar of his shirt to relieve the heat on his neck.
“Uh, yeah, me too,” He stammered quietly.  “Thanks.  Good luck with studying” 
She hums.
“Goodnight, Okkotsu.  Thanks for keeping me company” 
The call ends there, and Yuuta smiles to himself as he sets his phone down and finds the energy to finish up his pointless report.
Talking with her had been nice.  Maybe they hadn’t become the closest of friends between him enrolling at Jujutsu Tech and being shipped off to Africa, but he thinks that could- and should- change.
He’d have to make more of an effort to get closer to her while he was away.
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When (y/n) calls again, it’s not so late this time.
Yuuta had just settled in the hotel lobby with his burrito for lunch, his only plan for the time being was to scroll aimlessly on his phone while he ate.  To his luck, just as he sat down on the stiff cushioned chair in the lobby, his phone rang.
“Okkotsu!” 
It had been a little over a week since their last call, and Yuuta had done his best to keep in touch with her since then.  A few photos of the wildlife native to the area that she seemed to enjoy, or a pretty sunrise here or there.  There were a lot of messages sent to her first thing in the morning, beautiful photos tagged with his complaints of being up so early.  It was the easiest time to use his phone, and he’d tried to make a habit of at least messaging her once a day.
To his delight, she always sent him a response.  It wasn’t always right away, with an eight hour time difference that was a steep ask, but she never failed to let him know that she saw his message and appreciated it somehow.  Whether it was an emoji reaction or a full text, she never left a text from him unanswered.  Strangely, Yuuta found this to be thoughtful of her.
“I’m cooking, can you believe it!?” She sounds excited, but the kind of excited that seems like something very wrong is about to happen.
“O-oh?” He stutters, chucking as he tucks his phone between his ear and shoulder so he could unwrap his burrito.  “What, are you not allowed, or something?” 
“Hush, I don’t let anyone tell me what to do,” She laughs at his comment, not realizing he wasn’t joking.  “I just haven’t cooked for myself properly since moving away from home.  The kitchen here is puny, though,” She mutters the last part.
The muffled sounds coming through the speaker sound as though she’s rummaging around the cabinets.  Yuuta tilts his phone away from his ear a little, the dishware clanking together more unpleasant than usual coming through a phone.
“But I thought it’d be nice to make a home cooked dinner.  I was going to make some for everyone, but I guess they already ate.  So it’s dinner for one tonight,” She explains.  Yuuta’s chest sinks with disappointment at the thought of missing quality time with his friends.  “Anyways, what’re you up to?” 
“Eating a burrito,” He replies dryly.  “What are you making? I’d much rather have that” 
“Don’t speak too soon, it’s been a while since I’ve been in a kitchen,” 
(y/n) laughs, and Yuuta does too.
“Just ramen,” She answers.  “Figured it’s best to start out simple.  Also figured I couldn’t set anything on fire” 
“Depends on how you look at it.  Setting something on fire while only cooking ramen might be an accomplishment, with how difficult it must be” 
He doesn’t mean to be funny, but (y/n’s) laughing again, and Yuuta smiles through a mouthful of burrito for saying something clever enough.  Pride swells in his chest the longer he hears her laughter turn to muted giggles while she’s pittering about the kitchen.
“You’re eating, should I let you go?” She asks once her laughter has calmed down.
“No, it’s alright,” Yuuta shakes his head even though he knows she can’t see.  “I’m bored anyways.  I was just going to sit here by myself and eat this burrito” 
She laughs again, lightly this time.
“Alright, then, want me to tell you about how hard Maki kicked my ass in training yesterday?” She offers.
He’d already had an inkling, recalling a harshly worded text from her followed by a photo of her left leg covered in blue and purple marks that were bound to grow dark soon.  He’d cringed when he’d seen it, giving the image a frowning emoji reaction before responding with, ‘Maki?’.  But he happily agrees to have her tell him the rest of the story behind the bruises.
He deems (y/n) and Maki to hold a far closer friendship than he did himself, so he knew that the next five minutes of ranting on her part is in good nature and she was only annoyed with losing, not necessarily with Maki herself.  That said, as someone who had dealt with the torture of training with her, Yuuta understood the feeling quite well.  He laughs when she talks about being thrown to the ground like a ragdoll, and he winces when she tells him about the absolute beatdown she’d taken.
It’s a gruesome retelling, even though at times she talks as if it was as casual a part of her day as brushing her teeth had been.  The life of a jujutsu sorcerer was always an unorthodox one.
“She didn’t even try to go easy on me, Okkotsu.  But, she did get me an ice cream sandwich with my ice pack, so she’s still my best friend, I guess” She’s only teasing, evident in the way she giggles.
“Yuuta” He says without thinking, having happened to swallow the last of his food and finally getting a chance to speak.
“Hm- what?” 
“You can just call me Yuuta” He clarifies, eyes darting around the lobby to be sure no one could see him blushing.  
His voice grows quieter as he suddenly feels bashful in the public setting.  None of the people passing in and out of the space pay him a second glance, and it doesn’t dawn on him that they might not even understand his language, but his body language says enough.  He’s tucked into the corner chair, hunched over and holding the phone as close to his face as possible so he wouldn’t have to raise his voice too much.  Not to mention, his face was turning a rosy shade of pink.
“Alright, Yuuta,” (y/n) muses, testing the waters to see how his name sounded.  It felt foreign, and it had the color in Yuuta’s face darkening even faster, but she seemed amused by the change.  “Ramen’s coming along pretty well, I think it’ll actually be edible!” 
She’s quick to move on from the semi-serious topic.  He’s relieved for this, and does his best to come across as casual as possible.  He asks her about the recipe, and she talks to him for a while about her process until the conversation somehow turns back on him and he’s updating her about Morocco.
Time passes so easily, Yuuta barely realizes that he’s been sitting in the lobby for an hour, not thinking about how she had finished her dinner and eaten it too.  (y/n) never mentions the time either, unknown to him, sitting on the counter in the common room’s kitchenette as she talks aimlessly about anything and everything she can think of.  Yuuta enjoys hearing about it all, the shenanigans that she’s been up to with Toge, the odd style of teaching that Gojo has, even just the simple things, like how yesterday it had rained.
There’s something magical about being on the phone with her, he realizes halfway into hearing about how she’d gone outside to help the worms back into the grass after the rainfall.  Not only does he lose time, but there’s not a dull moment.  Most of his days had become so bland and boring they’d started to blend together.  Besides the occasional sword training, he’d spent the majority of his time wandering about with Miguel.  It was starting to feel aimless, with every passing day that they came up empty handed.
Talking with her was everything but boring, never boring.  It finally felt like he had some company to get him through this assignment.  He hoped that this second call meant they could make more of a habit out of it.
“I should probably go so I can clean up the kitchen,” She sighs when she finally suggests getting off the phone.  It’s then, and only then, that Yuuta checks the time, quickly pulling his phone away to tap the screen before putting it up to his ear again.  “I think it’d be obnoxious for me to stay on the phone while I do the dishes” She adds with a chuckle.
His heart spikes at the idea of her wanting to keep talking, though.
“Y-yeah, that might be too loud,” He replies.  “But that’s okay, I should probably get some training in, or something, anyways” 
“Gotta keep up that Special Grade status,” (y/n) teases.  He’s grateful she can’t see him fluster every time she teases him, no matter how lighthearted it is.  He’s not sure why it sends him into a mini panic every time, but he hopes he gets a hang of himself soon, if they’re going to keep talking like this.  “Talk soon, though?” 
He’d really have to learn to get a hold of himself.  The short question has him beaming and nodding his head wildly, although the only people to see it are the hotel staff at the check-in desk who’d been peeking glances at the weird talkative boy on his phone for the last two hours.
Yuuta clears his throat before speaking, hoping to sound as normal as possible.
“Yeah, yeah we can talk again soon”
He’s not sure how well he does.
“Okay, cool,” The smile is evident in her tone, and in turn has Yuuta smiling too.  “Talk to you later then, Yuuta” 
Maybe he was just hopeless, but hearing his name again has him blushing and fidgeting in his seat.
“Bye, (y/n)” 
Even once the call has ended and his phone is sitting lifeless in his lap, with the rush of adrenaline Yuuta gets, one might think he’d just received the best news of his life.  Funnily enough, he hadn’t received much news at all- besides the fact that the worms on Jujutsu Tech Tokyo’s property were safe and accounted for after a life threatening sprinkle- so his giddiness was solely brought on by talking with her.
Slowly but surely, she was becoming his favorite person to talk to.
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[y/n]: need ur help, it’s urgent [y/n]: ok woah i should not have said it like that
[yuuta]: ??? are you ok???
[y/n]: need u to help me win a bet
[yuuta]: ._. [yuuta]: ok.
[y/n]: vanilla oreos suck, right? 
[yuuta]: this was urgent? 
[y/n]: panda said they’re his favorite flavor.
[yuuta]: oh god. [yuuta]: he needs a wellness check for sure.
[y/n]: THANK YOU  [y/n]: toge said his fav were the birthday cake ones but the vanilla weren’t bad. he’s still got the taste of a toddler, but at least they’re not his FAVORITE i mean cmon.  vanilla is just bad. [y/n]: i knew you’d understand me.
[yuuta]: ur right this was urgent.  i thought i knew them. [yuuta]: what are your favorite?
[y/n]: obviously i told them original.
[yuuta]: 
 implying they’re not actually your favorite? 
[y/n]: you’re asking very personal questions, yuuta
[yuuta]: lmfao [yuuta]: i’ll tell u mine if u tell me urs :)
[y/n]: u first i’m shy :)
[yuuta]: original are good.  but i like the toffee ones best 
[y/n]: interesting.
[yuuta]: so am i getting judged for my oreo preference, too? 
[y/n]: lol no.  ur safe.  for now ;)
[yuuta]: well we had a deal.  what’s ur fav?
[y/n]: 
 i like the lemon ones
[yuuta]: :o [yuuta]: don’t those come with a VANILLA cookie???
[y/n]: 
 [y/n]: maybe.
[yuuta]: ur ridiculous
[y/n]: but the lemon flavor makes it different.  it’s not PLAIN vanilla.
[yuuta]: can’t argue with u there
[y/n]: ya bcuz u wouldn’t dare :)
[yuuta]: no i wouldn’t :) 
[y/n]: mwahaha i have the big scary special grade afraid of me :)
[yuuta]: idk about big.  and the scary is all rika
[y/n]: does she have a take on the great oreo flavor debate? &lt;3
[yuuta]: 
 [yuuta]: she always preferred animal crackers.
[y/n]: &lt;;/3
✩₊˚.⋆☟⋆âș₊✧
When Yuuta finally works up the courage to call her first, it’s been a couple weeks.
Which in hindsight, it feels like too much time has passed.  Even though they’ve been texting every single day nearly nonstop.  Yuuta had grown so attached to his phone it was almost becoming a problem.
Not that he’d admit it.
“Okkotsu Yuuta!” She picks up the phone with the same eagerness she’d held the last time she’d called him.  “To what do I owe the pleasure?” 
“I was bored, and was hoping you had something interesting going on,” He sighed, falling backwards on the perfectly made bed in his room.  Too perfect.  It was always annoying to tug the covers out of their tightly tucked corners to comfortably sleep at night.  “All I’ve been doing is train and I’m exhausted” He grumbles.
(y/n) hums through the speaker.
“Well if you’re that bored, I suppose I could tell you about a boy conflict of mine,” She suggests.
Just as Yuuta was starting to relax into the mattress, he felt his spine go stiff as a chill shot from his tailbone all the way up to his neck.  It feels like his entire body has been drenched in icy water, freezing him solid.
“It’s okay if that’s too
 weird, though” He’s drawn back to reality by (y/n’s) nervous laugh, something he doesn’t hear all that often.  It’s strained and awkward, displaying every bit of anxious emotion that she felt.  
“It’s not weird,” Yuuta’s not usually very good at lying, people always have a way of seeing right through him.  He wonders if he’s only decent at telling this one because she’s not physically here.  She can’t see the way his face contorts as it tries to stay neutral, or how his fingers start to tap against the comforter beneath him.  “Boy conflict is
 normal” He adds.
He’d meant that one, but she laughs anyway.
“I guess so,” She sighs through the speaker.  “But I’ve never really had any before.  Not like you get to meet a lot of people.  But
 I guess I met someone..?”
Yuuta’s gut twists, and he wonders if he ate something bad with his lunch.  Maybe the chicken was undercooked? No, it seemed fine.  He probably just ate too fast.
“That feels less like conflict and more like interest” His jaw feels tight when he talks.  With his free hand, he rubs at it and tries to keep his teeth from clenching.
“Well, I am interested,” 
Distantly, Yuuta thinks he should swallow some tums before he goes to bed so this stomach ache won’t keep him up all night.
“At least, I think I am,” (y/n) sighs again.  “He’s not a sorcerer, I met him at a corner store I went to with Maki,” She explains.  “He was cute and all, I guess we had a moment over the energy drinks? It’s kind of a blur, I didn’t really pay attention until he was handing me his number and now I have this number and- I don’t know.  Is that weird?” 
Yuuta’s not really sure what to tell her.  He’s not really sure how he feels about it.  His gut tells him that yes, it is weird, and she shouldn’t be going out with some guy she met at a convenience store.  Anyone can walk into one of those, he thinks bitterly, his brow furrowed as he thought over her dilemma.
“Well, um, did he seem
 nice?” 
The question comes out pathetic.  Yuuta’s smacking his hand over his face from how stupid he sounds, and feels.  
“Yeah, I guess” (y/n) answers anyways.
“Then I guess ball’s in your court?” The suggestion comes out more as a question than he means it to.  Yuuta thinks he wasn’t equipped for this, and maybe he should have told her it was a weird thing for them to talk about.
But he wouldn’t have meant that.  He would talk to her about anything, and he wanted her to feel the same.  He wanted her to talk about anything and everything she wanted.  Lord knows he’d take an interest in it. 
However the interest he has in this conversation isn’t quite like normal.  His curiosity is less genuine.  It feels like it’s lurching around in his mind, something disappointed yet irritable growing in it’s place.  He hates the feeling.  He hates feeling that way towards her.  Even if it wasn’t directed at her specifically.
“You’re right,” There’s more determination in her voice now.  “I should just text him, right?”
No, Yuuta’s jaw is clenched again, teeth grinding loudly.  He hopes she can’t hear it through the phone.  No, don’t let some stranger have your number.  He doesn’t deserve it like I do.
“Right!” His voice is louder than he means to, as if trying to overpower the jealous train of thought that runs through his mind.
He’s sitting upright on the bed in a second, still rigid and uncomfortable, but his anxiety makes him want to pace.  He needs to work off the awkward feeling in his chest somehow.
“Then I can see what he’s like,” (y/n) speaks as though she’s really telling herself what made the most sense.  Yuuta’s nodding wordlessly, his eyes fixated on a spot on the floor that’s growing more blurry by the second.  “And then if I like him
 maybe we can go out or something” She mumbles the last part, clearly distracted.  
He wonders if she’s texting him now.  The idea of her reaching out to this random guy while she’s on the phone with him sends his heart plummeting to his already upset stomach.
Where were all of these nasty feelings coming from? 
“Yeah, that’s probably a good idea” Yuuta’s speaking, but it feels distant, he’s not exactly sure of what he’s saying.
“Alright.  I’ll text him later, then,” 
He’s relieved that she wasn’t doing it this very moment, but there was still an unsettling pit in his stomach knowing she was bound to reach out at some point.
“Thanks, Yuuta.  So, what’s been going on with you?” 
It takes a while of chatting and pacing the room before Yuuta feels like himself again.  He’s lucky there wasn’t a circle burned in the shape of his track in the tightly coiled carpeting of his room, certainly he would’ve had to call Gojo for a favor if he was billed for such damage.
Eventually the nasty feeling in his chest settles and he’s sitting in the bed again, the notebook he was drafting up today’s report on propped on his legs and his phone at his side, (y/n’s) voice on speaker as she tells him about the rest of her and Maki’s outing in the shopping district.
As it always does, time goes by too quickly, and soon enough she’s yawning through the speaker and telling him it was getting too late for her.
“But thanks for calling, Yuuta.  I was starting to think you didn’t know phones worked both ways” She teases softly.
Had she been waiting for him to call? 
“Yeah, anytime.  I just
 you know the time difference
 I don’t ever want to bother you” 
“You? Bother me?” She giggles.  “After you let me talk your ear off about a boy, I don’t think that’s what’s happening here,” She tells him.
The nasty feeling swells again.
“Besides, you could never bother me,” She adds, her tone much softer.  Almost sweet.  Yuuta can’t tell if his stomach is convulsing or doing flips.  “But call again sometime, m’kay?” 
“Okay,” He says, hopeful, and just as eager as he felt.  “G’night, (y/n)” 
“Bye Yuuta, goodnight!” 
His phone lights up with the low battery icon once the call is over.  He’s slow to plug the charger into it and leave it on his nightstand for the evening, his mind still mulling over everything she’d told him.  Or more so, how he’d felt taking in all that information.
He couldn’t have possibly been jealous, right? Not over some random guy.  Not because of her.  They were friends, after all.  Friends that didn’t even get that close until after he left.  In his time at Jujutsu Tech he’d only spoken to her a handful of times, and mostly in passing.  It wouldn’t feel right to have something like jealousy spark up now.  No, he was probably just worried for her, seeing as he couldn’t look out for her when he’s thousands of miles away.  Yeah, that was it.
It couldn’t have anything to do with the way he felt his world light up when she laughed.  Or that getting a text message from her in the sound effect that he’d picked out just for her contact had serotonin spiking in his brain.  
None of those things were connected at all.
✩₊˚.⋆☟⋆âș₊✧
The fourth time they talk on the phone, unfortunately, he has to hear about this guy again.
Yuuta’s not even sure he knows his name.  He thinks (y/n) must’ve mentioned it once or twice in their texts, but it’s never quite stuck, and honestly, Yuuta doesn’t want to ask.
Not that he cares- it wasn’t like that at all.  It had simply been too long for it to feel appropriate to ask.  He didn’t want her to think he didn’t listen, is all.
He’d called one evening when yet again he felt like putting off writing up his report.  It had almost become a habit to reach out to her as soon as he was stalling, or bored.  He didn’t have much to talk about, he never really did, but he had been eager to tell her about some new cuisine he’d tried that he’d thought she might like. 
There was a pesky thought in the back of his mind about her visiting him for a few days.  Only pesky due to how often it presented itself, even when he should’ve been focused on more pressing matters.  He knew it was bad when Miguel had taken notice and smacked him upside the head to get him to pay attention- on this earth, preferably, he’d said.
But he couldn’t help it.  The idea of having her here, for a few days or a few weeks, had become his go-to daydream.  He already knew everything he’d want to show her, the busy, colorful markets and the good food Yuuta hadn’t known existed until coming here.  To how pretty the beaches were at sunset, especially when the little hermit crabs would wake up and wander around the shore, he thinks she’d like that a lot.
Even just the idea of having her around to hang out with and chat about anything and nothing, just like how they do through their phones, had his chest buzzing with warmth and excitement.  Even though it was all in his head and logic told him she probably couldn’t make such a trip.  She had her own assignments and lessons after all, and technically he was supposed to be working.
Nonetheless, when he found himself getting bored, his mind drifted off to pretending she was there with him to keep him company.  Sometimes it even did the trick.
Tonight when he calls her, he’s kicking around the idea of bringing it up.  Maybe if she took it well enough he could reach out to Gojo about it, surely he had the social standing and the funds to let her visit.  His heart is thrumming in his chest just thinking about it, every ring of the dial tone putting him further on the edge of his seat.
It rings a total of five times before she finally answers.  It’s not all that late in Tokyo, just half past nine, but suddenly Yuuta worries that this wasn’t a good time to call.
“Hey,” He’s the first to speak, grinning from ear to ear when the line finally clicks and she’s answered the call.  “Is this a bad time?” 
“Uh, n-no,” She stutters back, voice quiet and a little raspier than usual.  Had she been sleeping? She speaks before he can double check if it was an okay time to talk.  “I’m not doing anything.  What’s up?” 
Yuuta can’t quite put his finger on it, but it certainly sounds like it’s a bad time.  Her voice is lacking it’s usual mirth, and she sounds like she’s purposefully trying not to raise her voice.  His smile begins to fall as his brain starts to stir with worry.
“Nothing, really.  Just
 wanted to talk, I guess,” It feels a little embarrassing to admit, but for once, she’s not teasing him.  It’s strange, not hearing her softly poke fun at him when he’d clearly given her an opening to do so.  “What’re you doing?” 
“It’s almost ten here, I’m in bed” 
The words almost come out cold, a bitterness to them that Yuuta wasn’t used to.  If it weren’t for the crack in her voice, he might’ve thought she was upset with him.  But there’s a noticeable little hitch in the middle of her words that tells him it’s not annoyance he’s picking up on.
“Hey,” His voice is quiet as he sits on his bed, brows furrowing as he feels the mood shift even in a room thousands of miles away from hers.  “Is something wrong?” 
“No” Comes her instant answer, but it’s not remotely believable.  Her voice is so quiet and muffled it barely comes through the speaker, and shortly after he hears a shuffling that sounds like a heap of blankets being tossed around.
“C’mon, wanna talk about it?” He pressed again, dragging his finger over the crisp comforter on the bed to create misshapen invisible designs.  “What happened, (y/n)?” He asks again, voice softer than before.
The tiniest of sniffles could be heard, and his heart sinks at the idea of her sitting alone in bed and crying.  Whatever caused it he was sure he could find a way to solve it.  It wasn’t often that Yuuta felt cocky with his Special Grade status, but in this moment he was sure he was the most powerful person in the world, and if something had bothered her this much, he’d certainly be able to take care of it.
“It’s- it’s stupid,” The high pitch in the cracking of her voice was more evident the louder she spoke.  He’s worried she was going to leave it at that, maybe tell him to leave her alone or hang up altogether.  Then he hears a wobbly inhale before she’s whimpering through her words again.  “I’m so stupid, Yuuta, what was I thinking?”
His heart cracks with every word she speaks.  He’s not sure what put her in such pain, but he swears, he’s experiencing it too just knowing she was hurting.  He places his free hand over his chest to ease the hollow feeling that carves itself there.
“What d’ya mean? You’re not stupid, not remotely.  C’mon, y’know that,” He tries to keep his voice light and gentle, even though the growing put in his stomach had his throat closing up.  “What happened? Talk to me” He pleads softly.
(y/n) sniffles, before trying to even out her breathing again so she didn’t sound so pathetic when she talked.
“I don’t even want to tell you, it’s so stupid,” She admits.  “B-but everyone else is busy, o-or gone and I- I don’t want to cry about it anymore,” 
Had she been crying for a while? His heart seizes at the thought.
“Promise you won’t laugh at me?” She mumbles.  Yuuta nodded his head rapidly in response.
“Yeah, yeah of course I promise.  I won’t laugh at you” He tells her with grave sincerity.
She sighs, breath still shaky, but she does her best to talk through it.
In a wobbly, quiet voice, she tells him everything.  About how she had plans to meet up with convenience-store-guy that Yuuta still hadn’t caught the name of.  How she’d taken plenty of time to plan out her outfit and put herself together, how in the meantime he’d been nothing short of flirtatious and sweet, leading her to believe he’d been eager to go out with her.  She tells him how an hour before they were set to meet up a block away from campus, she’d stopped hearing from him altogether.  She laughs humorlessly as she explains she’d sent nearly ten messages asking where he was or if he needed to reschedule before she’d dropped it completely and walked herself back home.
“No text, no call.  Absolutely n-nothing,” She mutters bitterly.  “But I don’t g-get it, did I do something wr-wrong?” 
“Of course not,” Yuuta sighed, trying to release the tension of his building irritation so he could keep his focus on comforting her.  “He’s just
 he’s stupid, okay? I don’t know what his deal is, but you dodged a bullet, for sure.  If that’s how he acts before a first date, imagine how terrible he would’ve been by the twentieth” 
Surprisingly, he’s not terrible when it comes to consoling her.  (y/n) hums tiredly in agreement.  It doesn’t necessarily take the pain away, but there is some relief in knowing it never would have worked out.
“Yeah,” She breathes out.  “But
 I was excited, you know?” She mumbles.  “I’ve never been on a real date before, at least I don’t think I have, but I think I’d know,” She explains.  “I just
 I thought I’d feel normal for a night.  I- I thought he liked me.  I kinda liked him, too.  But mostly I
” She trails off, and they both remain silent for a few beats, each processing their own mess of thoughts.  “I liked the idea of being liked, I guess.  Is that selfish?”
“Of course not,” Yuuta chuckles warmly.  “Everyone wants that.  It’s completely normal,” He says.  “Besides, it’s not like you were imagining things.  He did have an interest.  Who wouldn’t?” 
The last part comes out before he can realize what he’s actually saying, and his face grows hot with the insinuation of his words.  He’s stammering to fix it, which doesn’t help him much, but he tries.
“W-what I mean is that there will be plenty of other people who will meet you and fall for you completely and y-you’ll be swarmed with phone numbers and people who like you!” 
He doesn’t mean to raise his voice, but his nerves are starting to take over as the word vomit continues.  (y/n’s) quiet as she listens intently, and the longer she doesn’t speak up to stop him, the worse his rambling becomes.
“You’ll have to fight ‘em all off, you know? There’s so many people out there who haven’t been lucky enough to meet you yet, and when they do you’ll get to experience everything you want.  You know what?”
There’s a soft ‘what?’ from her end before he continues on his rant.
“It’s a good thing your first date wasn’t with that prick anyways.  It wouldn’t have been fair.  It wouldn’t have been right at all if your first date was boring or shitty or- or anything short of special and electric, okay?” 
(y/n) still doesn’t say anything, but she’s hanging onto every word he says, even when they’re rushed and he’s stumbling over them, all of her focus is on what he’s saying.
“Because you deserve it.  And anyone who is remotely worth your time will know that.  And they’ll- they’ll text you too much before you finally go out, because they’ll be nervous because you make them nervous because you’ll be so out of their league, you know?” He doesn’t even pause before continuing.  “And they’ll pick you up on time if not early because they’ll respect your time, and they’ll have flowers- the prettiest, most expensive bouquet they could find- right? A bouquet even Gojo couldn’t afford,” 
She lets out a watery laugh that has Yuuta easing up in his rambling, a warm feeling planting in his chest in the hopes she’d smiled, even just a little bit, even if it was through her tears, he’d provoked just a little bit of joy from her.
“And
 and if you’re anything short of completely swept away, then you’ll call Maki and she’ll come get you so you don’t have to spend another second wasting your time with a loser that doesn’t deserve you” 
His chest is heaving a bit when he finally stops, not realizing he was losing his breath the longer he rambled on.  His face feels hot as he processes everything he’d just dumped on her, and he prays that it wasn’t as pathetic as he’s worrying it was.
There’s a few small sniffles before (y/n) speaks up.
“Well, if you were back home, I’d just call you,” She says softly.  Her voice doesn’t sound as strained as before, and Yuuta hopes it means she’d stopped crying.  “You really think I’ll be able to find all that?” 
“Yeah, ‘course I do,” He mumbles back, although his words hold absolute certainty.  “Not a doubt in my mind” 
She giggles, a real little laugh that he can almost see.  It’s short and sweet and it has him elated that he’d lightened her mood.  He’s not sure what exactly he did, but he’s grateful that the word vomit was beneficial for once.
“Thank you, Yuuta,” She murmurs.  “You’re right, and, I actually feel a little better,” 
His heart soars, and he’s smiling to himself again with pride and relief.
“I’m still going to watch Pride and Prejudice before bed, though.  I’d already committed to it and I can’t just go to sleep now” She tells him seriously.  Yuuta laughs, falling back on his bed as comfortably as he could with his feet still planted on the ground.
“I’ve never seen it,” He tells her.  “But don’t stay up too-” 
“Never?” She interrupts with a gasp of shock.  “Yuuta, that’s criminal” 
He chuckles again.  “Is it really?” 
“Yes, very much so,” She tells him.  “When you’re back we have to watch it, okay?” 
“Yeah, sure-” 
“No, promise” She demanded for the second time that night.
“I promise,” He repeats, smiling to himself as his gaze wanders the ceiling.  
He couldn’t help but think that if she were to visit him, they could spend a whole afternoon here in this room watching her movie, probably eating snacks and making a mess of the place as they got cozy for it.  This room had always remained perfectly tidy, so much so it was almost boring.  Having her in it would surely brighten it up and give it some life, he thinks.
“We’ll watch it as soon as I’m back” He tells her.
“Okay.  Good.  You were on thin ice for a second, you know” She murmurs sleepily.  He can hear her yawning.
“Was I?” He muses.  “Is that what it takes to get you to hang up on me?” 
“Are you suggesting I wouldn’t?” She quips back, and he’s glad that her teasing nature has come around again.
“I’m suggesting you never have before” Yuuta shrugs.  His fingers are pressed firmly against the back of his phone, keeping it close to his ear so he couldn’t miss the way she laughed at him.
“Yeah, well, maybe you’re just good company,” She hums.  “But it is late and I want to watch this movie, so I guess there’s a first for everything” 
His face is warm and he feels full, like he’d just eaten a good meal, despite him having skipped lunch in order to call her.  Yuuta smiles lazily at the blank ceiling as he hums back to her.
“Alright, enjoy your movie,” He says.  “But, uh, you can call me again.  Y’know, if you
 need to.  Or want to” 
There’s a pause before she responds.
“Okay,” It comes out in a hushed whisper.  “Have a good rest of your day, Yuuta” 
The time difference has his lips pinching into a frown, but he quickly tries to hold onto the last few seconds of joy he has while talking to her.
“Goodnight, (y/n)”
The call ends, and he drops his phone to the mattress, letting it sit forgotten beside his head.  He stays put in his semi-comfortable position, still staring at the ceiling as his hands fall to his sides.  His chest felt tight, and his mind a little dazed as he replayed the call over and over in his mind.  The hurt he’d felt when she was hurting, the relief he’d felt when she was happy.  It was overwhelming, the way his own emotions were thrown through the wringer depending on hers.
His heart was hammering in his chest so hard, Yuuta knew he couldn’t deny his feelings any longer.
He was falling for her.  Fast, and hard.
✩₊˚.⋆☟⋆âș₊✧
[yuuta]: [attachment]: one image [yuuta]: i think you’d like these little guys
[y/n]: :D a hermit crab!!! [y/n]: so cute! can’t believe ur holding it, i’d be scared of getting pinched
[yuuta]: i’m special grade, i’m not scared of anything :)
[y/n]: getting real comfy with throwing that title around, huh? you must think so low of me, a mere second grade.  i could never amount to the *mighty* okkotsu yuuta.
[yuuta]: lol shut up it’s just a crab
[y/n]: he is super cute.  his name is yuu now :)
[yuuta]: bcuz u miss me so much? :)
[y/n]: bcuz he’s small and feisty.  that little claw looks ready to attack :>
[yuuta]: ok i’ll admit he did pinch me once. [yuuta]: but in his defense i did pick him up and i am a big scary human
[y/n]: lmfao [y/n]: i thought we just established ur small and feisty
[yuuta]: i don’t think i like being called small 
[y/n]: tiny  [y/n]: smol [y/n]: just a baby
[yuuta]: are we still talking abt the crab?? 
[y/n]: and maybe a little cute [y/n]: if we’re still talking about similarities :) 
[yuuta]: cute???????
[y/n]: when u first came to jujutsu tech u were kinda like a hermit crab LMFAO [y/n]: i think if u had a shell u would’ve lived in it for WEEKS XD
[yuuta]: ._.
[y/n]: :)
[yuuta]: ur being a menace today [yuuta]: more than usual
[y/n]: it’s bcuz gojo’s lesson plan so far has been fighting the air :/ idk how he’s a teacher.  i’m definitely not learning anything [y/n]: except that i might be able to take him in a fight without cursed energy
[yuuta]: my money is on u :)  [yuuta]: but also i’ll be there with ice cream when u get ur ass kicked 
[y/n]: &lt;;/3[y/n]: that’s my broken heart[y/n]: you’ve broken my heart.
[yuuta]: lol [yuuta]: but there will be ice cream [yuuta]: <3
[y/n]: 
  [y/n]: ok i might forgive u
[yuuta]: is it bcuz i’m cute  [yuuta]: :)) [yuuta]: ?? (y/n) ?? [yuuta]: :(( [yuuta]: don’t ghost me ik ur not paying attention in class
✩₊˚.⋆☟⋆âș₊✧
The tenth phone call they have, (y/n’s) the one calling him.
It’s one in the morning his time, so he’s sound asleep on the mattress that still feels stiff after about three months of him sleeping on it.  Every day he longs more and more to go back home to his cozy room and his friends and her.  
When his ringtone blares, a pretty tune that’s suddenly the most obnoxious sound on the planet, he’s awake right away.  Jolting from his slumber and reaching around blindly in search of the device.  He nearly shoves everything on his bedside table right off, his arm swinging with too much force in his desperate attempt to pick up the phone.
Even once it’s in his hand, it takes him a second to steadily press the accept button, his vision blurry and sleep still threatening to take back over.  It takes him a few tries before he’s answering the call and laying the phone on his pillow next to his head.
“Hello?” He rasps out.
“Yuuta!” (y/n’s) all too cheery for one in the morning, but he distantly remembers it’s the early evening in Tokyo.  His eyes squeeze shut as he rubs at them tiredly.  “Yuuta! How could you not tell me the good news!?” 
She’s yelling, and even without his phone on speaker he hears her perfectly fine just having the device laying next to his head.  It’s a shock to his ears, his mind buzzing as it tries to wake him up to deal with the noise.  But he snuggles deeper into his pillow, rolling onto his side to press his face into the feathery plushness.
“-was gonna wait,” He mumbles sleepily.  “Y’know, ‘til I was awake, ‘nd it was a normal time” His words are followed by a low chuckle.  The pillow suddenly becomes the comfiest thing he’s ever touched, and even the stiff mattress becomes a little more inviting.
“Wait?” She repeats the word before gasping dramatically.  “Okkotsu Yuuta, I had to hear you were coming back from Toge!” 
He chuckles again at her antics.  He’s still exhausted, but his chest feels warm hearing the excitement in her voice.
“Do you know how long it took him to tell me? Hm? He did charades, Yuuta.  Charades!” The image has him laughing a little more, shoulders shaking just a little bit as he listens to her go on.  “I’m terrible at charades by the way.  The whole thing took, like, fifteen minutes.  I was pissed he couldn’t just write it down” 
“Toge’s jus’ like that” He mumbles.
“But you told him before me?” 
Yuuta’s not sure if the offense in her tone is fake or not.  To play it safe, he covers his tracks.
“No,” He sighs.  “Gojo pr’lly told him.  He only just told me before I went to bed” 
“And you didn’t even text,” (y/n) huffs, but he can hear the laugh she’s trying to hold back.  He smiles in relief knowing she was just sticking to her bit.  “Well you better actually text me as soon as you’re back!” She says threateningly.  “We have plans.  You promised” 
“How could I forget?” He hums, voice low and growing quieter as his body beckons him to fall back to sleep.
“Okay.  Good,” She says definitively.  “I guess I’ll let you go back to sleep.  Sorry for waking you up” 
He hums in amusement.
“Don’t be sorry for being so excited to see me you couldn’t contain it,” He teases quietly.  (y/n’s) silent on the other end of the line.  “And don’t be embarrassed, either” He adds.
“I’m not embarrassed!” She squeaks, making him chuckle some more.  Maybe he was just deprived of his sleep, but she was extra cute when he was the one doing the teasing.  “But I
 I am excited to see you” 
He smiles into his pillow, sighing contentedly into it.
“I know sweetheart,” He mumbles.  “And ‘m excited to see you too” 
She’s failing to stifle a giggle through the speaker.
“Okay okay, you’re clearly wiped.  I’ll let you go,” She says.  “Goodnight, Yuuta” 
“Night, (y/n)” 
He’s asleep before she even ends the call, drawn back into rest by the suddenly comfortable bedding and the sweet echo of her laughter playing in his mind.
✩₊˚.⋆☟⋆âș₊✧
(y/n) had been adamant about having their movie night the same night he gets back to Tokyo.  With the jet lag and the time difference keeping him awake against his wishes, she was sure that having a relaxed evening inside would be the best way to ease him back into being at home.
Yuuta, on the other hand, tried to make it clear that they didn’t have to rush into it.  His flight would land at eleven in the evening, and he was sure he wouldn’t even be back to campus before midnight.  While it might have felt like early afternoon to him, (y/n) would have already had a full day of lessons and training, and likely be exhausted by that time.
However she was stubborn.  It didn’t matter how much he tried to persuade her otherwise, she remained certain that she would stay awake long enough to greet him and have a simple, fun night set up for them.
And who was he to fight too hard against it anyways? The idea of her going through the trouble and wanting to stay up so late just to see him gave him energy for the whole day.  He was smiling through customs, bouncing his leg waiting to board, texting her as much as possible before he’d have to put his phone on airplane mode, and greeting every employee and flight attendant with so much delight it was infectious.  He’d even gotten an extra package of goldfish for his delightful friendliness.
He’s as quick as can be picking up his checked luggage and rushing out of the airport.  Anyone who saw might have thought he was late, but in actuality he was trying to be as early as possible.  He’d practically crashed into Ijichi, almost racing past him, but just as quickly recognition flashed in his eyes and he gave the manager a bone crushing hug, forgetting his strength.
The man was alarmed by the affection, awkwardly patting the boy’s back before stepping out of the embrace and nervously laughing.  He leads Yuuta out of the building and towards the sleek black car that’s waiting to take him home.  Yuuta’s positively buzzing the whole ride.  It’s obvious that Ijichi is tired, it’s almost the middle of the night after all, but he does find some amusement in Yuuta’s pure and unfiltered excitement.
However when the boy shouts for a pit stop at a local twenty-four hour grocery shop, the man almost drives the car right off the road, slamming on the brakes and pulling over roughly enough to wake him up completely.  If Yuuta notices the harsh driving maneuvers, he doesn’t say anything.  Simply grabbing his wallet and rushing inside the building.  Ijichi swears all these kids pumped full of muscles and adrenaline would be the death of him.
Yuuta comes back with a full paper bag and a grin, thanking the manager as they continue the drive home without a hitch.
He shouldn’t have the energy he does when they arrive, but Ijichi watches in shock as Yuuta easily carries all of his bags and the delicate groceries and breaks into a full sprint for the dorms, hollering one last thank you as he does.
He’s unceremonious as he drops his things in his room.  There is a certain comfort in being back in a space he can contently call his own, but the welcome home nap he was so eager to take in his own bed could wait.  He leaves his things and is swept away by his own two feet as he hurries down the hall.
There’s the faintest of light peeking out under only one door, all the others tightly shut and seemingly dark inside.  It was past midnight, and there were lessons first thing tomorrow morning.  He’s hesitant for only a second as he reaches the door, but adrenaline takes over again and he’s knocking as quietly as he can.
He can barely hear someone inside, although he doesn’t make out any real words.  Just to be safe, he knocks again.
“H’llo?” A tired voice calls back a little louder this time.
Yuuta’s hand is shaking when he reaches for the latch and slides the door open, just barely peeking inside.
He’d seen (y/n’s) room maybe once in passing, but he hadn’t taken a real glance, and definitely never stepped inside.  Now, he takes it all in with his face lit up in pure astonishment.
It’s decorated with string lights, soft and twinkling slowly here and there.  Just enough to give some ambience without it being overpowering.  Her small television is flickering with the title screen of her adored movie.  She’s curled up in a heap of blankets on the bed, and for a few seconds he thinks she’s asleep.  But her head tiredly lifts to see who her visitor was, and like a switch, she’s full of energy.
“Yuuta!” 
His name falls from her lips in soft awe, and she’s throwing her blankets back and sitting upright, shifting to get out of bed.  Yuuta’s beaming back at her, stepping into the room and turning to slide the door shut behind him.  The others would be quite annoyed if they were to be woken up at this hour.
She’s stumbling a bit towards him, her arms outstretched and her face in a lazy grin.  It takes no time at all for her to cross the room and throw her arms around him to hug him tightly.  Yuuta’s careful to hold his bag of goodies to the side so they don’t get crushed when he reciprocates the tight hug.
He hadn’t hugged her before he left for Africa.  He hadn’t hugged anyone, actually.  Just waved as he bid them goodbye.  Hugging her now feels like something he’d waited for for ages, and finally getting to hold her against him has his heart soaring.
“You’re finally home,” She’s smiling into his chest, and pulls away only so she can grin up at him, properly taking in his pretty eyes and longer hair.  She’s just about to comment on the change in style before she notices the bag in his hand, and focuses on it instead.  “Did you bring gifts?” She asks with a playful smirk.
“Uh- yeah, I mean, sorta,” He stammers, his face getting warmer than he would’ve liked as he opens the bag and glances inside, suddenly apprehensive about handing them to her.  “It’s not from Africa, but they are necessities,” He tells her.
(y/n) raises a brow curiously, before prompting him to show her what he brought.
Yuuta’s sheepish as he reaches in the bag and produces a family size package of lemon flavored oreos.  It seemed like a great idea when he’d picked them up, but now he feels anxiety twisting in stomach as he presents them to her.
“Lemon oreos!” (y/n’s) nothing short of delighted as she takes the package from his hands, already peeling back the plastic to snatch one and take a bite right away.  She hums as she finishes the cookie, her eyes twinkling with happiness as she seals the package again.  “You remembered, thank you.  We’ll definitely finish those tonight” She says with a laugh.
“Don’t worry, I brought my own snack, they’re all yours” He says softly.  She brightens even further at the prospect.
“You really know the way to a woman’s heart, Okkotsu” She teases.  
After months of getting teased over the phone, he finally gets to witness it first hand.  Her cheeks are pink and her eyes shift between his and other spots around the room bashfully.  He wonders if she was always so shy when she’d teased him before.
His smile softens as he reaches into the bag again, carefully holding the other gift as he pulls it from the bag.  (y/n’s) eyes widen and her lips part as she takes in the sight of the beautiful arrangement of flowers he was holding.  It was simple, a pretty bouquet of lilies, lily of the valley, to be specific, she recognized them as the same white flowers scattered around the courtyard.  Her eyes were locked on the bouquet as Yuuta picked around it a bit, making sure every flower was perfect and presentable.
“It’s not, uh, the most expensive bouquet in the world,” He mumbles anxiously once he deems the flowers pretty enough to hand to her.
She looks up at him as though silently asking if they were really for her, her surprise evident in the way she stared at him in soft surprise before she finally took the flowers.  Her movements are slow and so, so careful, not wanting to bend a single stem out of place.
“But, still, um,” With his hands free Yuuta begins to fiddle, scratching at the nape of his neck as he struggles to meet her gaze.  “Y’know, I just wanted to
 give you flowers” 
A smile breaks out across her face as she leans close to them to take in a whiff, soothed by the gentle, clean scent that fills her nose.
“I love them,” She murmurs, still staring in awe at the pretty arrangement.  “Can I take a picture?” She asks, and he nods wordlessly.  He finally takes in a breath of air when she turns around to grab her phone from the bed, not having realized he’d been holding it since handing her the intimate gift.
What he doesn’t realize is she’s bounding back over to him with her phone in hand, the camera flipped around so she can take a selfie of her flowers with him very much in it.
“C’mon, smile!” She giggles as she turns her phone sideways, eyeing the image of him with his blushing face and wide eyes, obviously caught off guard.
She snaps the photo when he throws up a peace sign and gives the most relaxed smile he can, his eyes closed and his cheeks undeniably pink.  (y/n) admires it before tucking her phone back into her pocket and clutching the flowers close to her chest lovingly.
“Thank you so much,” She gives them one last affectionate glance before tucking them carefully into a jar on her desk- after she dumped all the pens in it onto her workspace without a second thought.  Yuuta almost laughed at how quickly she made the mess and left it in order for the bouquet to have a safe home.  Once she’s sure they’re safe and sound, she turns back to him again.
It’s funny how out of place he looks standing in her doorway.  Long legs and broad shoulders taking up more space in her room than she would’ve thought.  She’d almost forgotten how large Yuuta was.  Somehow, it made it funnier that he looked so lost.  Like he didn’t want to take a step, and didn’t know what to do with his hands.  She could tell he was trying his best to come across as comfortable as he could, but she could see the wince behind his smile, and his slowly shifting feet.  
He looks out of place now, but she likes having him here.  She likes that he smells like sandalwood, and something sweet like vanilla.  She likes that he’s still holding the paper bag that he’d brought her gift in, not wanting to drop it somewhere in her room like a piece of litter.  She likes that when their eyes meet he smiles, and crinkles form on his eyes that compliment his blushing face.
She likes everything about Yuuta, but right now, she likes that he was the first boy to ever bring her flowers most of all.
So despite her racing heart, she decides to tell him so.
“I’m glad you were the first guy to ever give me flowers” 
Yuuta’s smile drops slightly as his face softens with surprise, eyebrows raising higher when she steps even closer to him.
He’s holding his breath again when she leans onto the tips of her toes and pressing a quick kiss to his warm cheek.  The feeling of her lips brushing over his skin only makes it heat up more, and against his will he lets out a little gasp for air.  (y/n) giggles when she stands flat on her feet again, her nose slightly wrinkled at her amusement at how easily Yuuta flusters.
She’s starting to think to herself that she should test just how much she can fluster him while he’s here, when he’s suddenly the one taking her breath away.
He steps forward to close the distance between them again, dropping the paper bag so he can slide his hands under her jaw, tilting it upwards so he can lean down and kiss her with ease.  A gasp dies in the back of her throat just as his lips touch hers, the hesitation from her surprise only momentary.  
For a soft kiss, Yuuta radiates so much passion her knees feel weak, and her hands are firm as they press into his shoulders, desperate to keep herself upright.  Even his hands are gentle, their touch warm and featherlight against her face.
She longs to press impossibly closer and explore his every last dip and crevice, but for right now, everything is perfect.  His gentleness, his sweetness, him, she couldn’t have hoped for a more lovely first kiss.
Just as the kiss was, he pulls away slowly, forehead still touching hers.  A short sigh escapes him before his lips turn into a smile.  (y/n) watches as his mouth stretches and curls, her own face mirroring the expression, before her eyes flicker up to his to see he’s staring down at her.
“Sorry, I-” He shakes his head, trying to find just the right words to tell her how long he’d been thinking about doing that.  His mind is too foggy so he runs his mouth with abandon.  “I’ve just really wanted to do that” He murmurs.
(y/n) giggles, her face blooming with color at the blatant confession.  It had her heart going haywire even more after the kiss, and any hopes of being the one to fluster him goes out the window.  She’s putty in his hands and he must know it.
“Don’t be sorry,” She whispers back, shyly averting her gaze, not that it does her any favors, he’s still cradling her face and keeping her so close that it felt there was no shying away from him.  “I
 I was hoping to talk to you, um, when you got back,” She says, the grin on her face betraying her as she tried to casually mention her feelings for him.  “About, y’know, hanging out more, ‘n stuff” 
Yuuta chuckles at her bashful nonchalance, nodding his head back at her with an excited gleam in his eyes.
“I’d like to hang out more and stuff,” He hums, dropping his hands from her face and nodding to where she’d set up the movie hours earlier.  “Should we start with watching your movie?” 
Excitement flashes in her eyes as she nods her head back at him, before taking his hand and tugging him over to the comfort of her bed.
“Settle in, your mind is about to be blown by literary perfection and cinematic masterpiece.  This is their love child” 
He chuckles, falling into the mattress with her and getting settled against the mountain of pillows at her headboard while she searches her blankets for the remote.  His chest is still vibrating with adrenaline, but as he sinks into a comfortable bed for the first time in months, he finds himself relaxing.
Despite his body feeling like it was the late afternoon, he feels as though he could go right to sleep.
It helps when (y/n) passes out first.  Her body slumps against his and she snores softly against his chest.  It’s such an amusing sight he can’t help but take a photo for her to wake up to in her messages.  He pauses the movie so that they can pick it up from where they left off tomorrow, and then settles deeper into the cozy bed.
The comfort he felt with every text received from her, every phone call to keep him company in the last few months of being away and being alone, it seems almost personified now.  Resting here beside her, simply sharing the same space, Yuuta feels the same wave of relief now.  He can’t help but smile to himself as he settles under the covers, being careful to not disturb her peaceful slumber.
He’s asleep in a matter of minutes.  The warmth of her body so close and the plush mattress working together to put his mind at such ease he didn’t even notice he was tired until he was closing his eyes and drifting off.
It was good to be home.
✩₊˚.⋆☟⋆âș₊✧
[ fuck it, i love you // fuck it, i love you // fuck it, i love you // i really do ]
✩₊˚.⋆☟⋆âș₊✧
xoxo ~ jordie
a/n: gojo pays the international phone bills obviously so don't be commenting on it
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moonstruckme · 11 months ago
Note
hey if you don’t mind, I’ve been struggling with a lot of anxiety and it makes my chest hurt a bunch so maybe you could rwrite something like that with anyone you’d like, ofc if you’d rather not that’s totally.
have a wonderful day dearie
Thanks for requesting baby, I'm really sorry you're dealing with that! I hope maybe you're feeling a bit better by now.
cw: anxiety, chest pain
doctor!Remus x fem!reader ♡ 1.1k words
Remus knows you mainly watch this show because he likes it, and yet he’s dozing off. After a long shift at the hospital, the clashing of swords sounds about as lulling as a thunderstorm outside the bedroom window to his tired ears, and his head slowly slumps backwards against the couch cushion. When snuggle closer to his side, head needling its way almost into his armpit, he thinks you’re trying to get him to wake up. 
“Sorry.” His voice comes out raspy, drowsiness clinging to his vocal chords like a paste. 
You pull away, looking up at him. “Oh no,” you murmur, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you.” 
The guilt in your voice has him responding instinctively, “It’s okay.” Remus drapes an arm across your shoulders, encouraging you back to where you were. “I was only resting my eyes.” It’s a flimsy excuse and you both know it, so he moves on quickly. “What’s up, hm?” 
“I was wondering if I could have a hug,” you say quietly, tentatively, your eyes not quite on his, “if that’s okay.” 
Remus checks himself before he can look too surprised. “Of course it’s okay,” he says, tightening his grip on you. 
Granted permission, you go all out. You turn your body into his, both arms wrapping tight around his midsection and face burrowing in the soft material of his sweater. Remus adjusts his hold to get a better grip on you. He brings his other hand to your head, cupping the back firmly. 
Asking for affection like this, so explicitly, is unexpected from you. It makes Remus feel like he’s just had a cup of tea, spreading warmth through his insides and leaving a pleasant aftertaste on his tongue. You hate to need him, but he loves to let you. He’ll take any chance to take care of you. He likes to think a secretive little part of you likes to be cared for, too. 
The exhaustion in his bones melts into something heavy and fond as he pets the back of your head. “Everything alright, sweetheart?” 
You hum into his armpit. “Just felt like I needed this, for some reason.” 
“Any reason’s good enough for me,” Remus half-jokes, dropping a kiss onto the crown of your head. “Did you have a long day, too?” 
“Not really.” Your voice dips into a lower register, disgruntled and bemused. You turn your face up so you can see him but don’t pull away, scooting closer to tighten your hold. “Nothing’s happened, I just feel a bit off, I guess. My chest hasn’t stopped hurting all afternoon.” 
He can see the regret in your expression when his eyebrows go up, and Remus laughs. 
“Oi, what’s that look about?” 
“I’m not trying to put you on the clock.” 
“No,” he says, smiling as he kisses your hairline, “You’re not, honey.” But he does reach for the remote, pausing the TV and silencing your background noise. 
Your eyes narrow. “You’ve got that serious look, though.” 
“That’s just my face, I can’t really help it.” Admittedly, chest pain worries him. Remus is prone to worrying about anything that ails you; it's where his job and his boyfriend duties collide. Still, he doubts you’ve been having a heart attack for the entire afternoon, so he’s not going to frighten you by telling you about the vast number of things chest pain can point to. “Where does it hurt? Can you show me?” 
You sigh and lean back, putting space between your chest and Remus’ side. “Sort of here,” you say, flattening your palm over your sternum. 
“Is it a concentrated pain,” he asks, “or more of an ache?” 
“More like an ache,” you admit. “It’s sort of, like, burning? But that sounds more dramatic than it really is.” 
He ignores the last part of your statement, setting his hand on your chest and pushing down gently. “Does that make it worse?” 
You shake your head, and Remus hums. You haven’t been coughing; he would have noticed. He works two fingers under your jaw. 
“What else feels weird, sweetheart?” 
“I’m not sure,” you tell him, starting to sound a bit raw. “I just feel
not right, you know? Is that bad?” 
“No, I don’t think so,” he says, letting his fingers drop from your pulse point. ”I think you’re mostly okay.” He uses both hands to pull you into his lap. “C’mere, baby dove.” 
You seem far from unhappy at being moved, pushing your face into Remus’ neck and letting him rest his chin atop your head. “What?” you ask. 
“Did you have coffee this afternoon?” 
“Yeah.” You sound cautious. “Why?” 
“And did you eat before?” 
“Remus.” Your warning tone is undercut by unease. 
He kisses your head in apology. “I think your chest hurts because you’re anxious, honey,” he says. “The caffeine probably made it worse.” 
You go quiet for a minute. Remus rubs your back, sorry for the invisibility of your hurt but relieved that its cause isn’t something more sinister. When you pull away, you’re frowning. 
“I don’t think it’s that,” you say. “It’s never felt like this before.” 
Remus feels his mouth slant in sympathy. “I think coffee without eating is already a bad idea, but then if you got anxious and we started watching a stressful show,” he tries to convey some apology in his expression, “it might have made your nerves feel worse than you’re used to.” 
“I think I’m only nervous because my chest hurts.” You blow out a breath. “It’s kind of a chicken and egg thing, yeah?” 
Remus hums, running his hand up the length of your spine. He can feel your heart beating beneath his palm. “Humor me for a minute?” 
You sigh again. It looks strenuous. “Sure.” 
“Breathe with me,” he instructs, folding you back towards his front. You go willingly, though you seem tenser now than before, your hands nearly rigid on his back. “In for eight.” 
He listens to be sure you’re doing it with him, feeling your chest expand against his own. He lets his palm lie still beneath your shoulder blades, sneaking a gauge of your heart rate. 
“Hold for eight.” 
Remus feels your nose press into his collar. He turns his lips into your forehead, holding his lungs at their full capacity and knowing that if it’s difficult for him, it has to be considerably worse for you. 
By the time you’re finished breathing out it's a relief for you both, and you turn your face up to his with a bit less skepticism. 
“That was hard,” you admit. 
Remus bites back an I-told-you-so, but he knows his smile must say enough of it when you roll your eyes good-naturedly. 
“Why don’t I change it to something a bit lighter,” he says, nodding towards the TV. “We can do more breathing during the commercial breaks, yeah?” 
You appear to consider this. “And we can keep cuddling?” 
Remus’ chuckle lures a smile out of you. He’s exceedingly gratified to see it. “That was never up for debate.” 
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cevansbrat0007 · 2 years ago
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Sweet Renegade Series Masterlist
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About the Sweet Renegade Series: A new arrival in town leads to an unexpected complication in the form of a sexy as sin Bounty Hunter named Ari Levinson.
This series features a collection of one-shots centered around a small town romance between Bounty Hunter Ari Levinson and a reluctant, curvy Reader.
It will also contain mature themes such as Sex, Interracial Relationships, Soft D/s Themes, Discussions of Body Image, Disordered Eating, Discussions of Race, Occasional Depictions of Violence, Cursing, and more. Minors, please do not engage or interact.
Special thanks to @curls-and-eyeliner for helping me brainstorm ideas. Thank you for reading and I look forward to sharing more soon! (**) indicates smut
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Series Intro
New In Town: Introducing my Sweet Renegades Series. Sparks fly when you accidentally find yourself sitting next to Bounty Hunter, Ari Levinson.
Hello, Duchess: Your first encounter with Bounty Hunter, Ari Levinson, goes worse than you ever could've imagined.
The Do-Over: Everyone deserves a second chance, including jerks like Bounty Hunter, Ari Levinson.
A Friend in the Dark Part I: Ari receives an unexpected call from you in the middle of the night. **
New! A Friend in the Dark Part II: After receiving an unexpected call from you in the middle of the night, Ari's not going to let anything stop him from getting to you. But will he make it in time?
Untitled Story: Coming Soon
Sweet Morning Light: Watching you sleep has Ari hungry for more. Which means it's time for breakfast. And it looks like you're on the menu... **
Thirst Trap: Ari loves looking at your ass in those shorts, as long as he's the one who gets to walk behind you. **
Back to Sleep: Ari has the perfect cure for your insomnia. **
On the Clock: Ari stops by for a snack while he's out chasing a lead. **
Creep: You sneak out of the house to go on a midnight supply run, which inadvertently sends Ari into panic mode. ** [Request]
Moments Shared: You and Ari share a moment during a lazy afternoon... **
Quickie: You get caught up in the moment while dropping off dinner to your favorite bounty hunter.
Sweet Tooth: Ari gets inventive when he finds himself in the doghouse with you. ** [Request]
Sweet Tooth Deluxe: Ari teaches you a much needed lesson about ignoring him. ** [Request]
Sugar Fix: Your poor attempt at a joke lands you in hot water with your man. Takes place directly after the events in Sweet Tooth and Sweet Tooth Deluxe. ** [Request]
Disturbing the Peace: You're keeping a secret from Ari - one that you'll have to tell him about eventually. Right?
Forget-Me-Not: Ari forgets to do something important before leaving out the door...
The Scent of you: Ari loves the sweet scent of you, which is why he's content to live between your thighs. **
Case of the Ex: Part I: Just as you decide to explore your feelings for Ari, an unexpected blast from your past sends you reeling...
Southern Comfort: A day after your ex-boyfriend's unexpected return, you show up on Ari's doorstep intending to ask for a little time. Too bad your grumpy bounty hunter isn't feeling particularly charitable. **
An Afternoon with Minerva: Ari finds himself finally ready to admit the truth about his feelings for you...
Off the Market: Ari learns that you're not the sharing type. Which is fine by him, because neither is he.
A Man Starved: Ari lives for the taste of you on his tongue... ** [Request]
The Slam: Ari has had a enough of your TikTok foolishness...
Risky Business: Ari doesn't like it when you take unnecessary risks. So tonight he's going to teach you a lesson you won't soon forget. **
Worthy of You: After being forced to confront his own demons, Ari begins to question whether or not he is worthy of you.
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Miscellaneous Asks, Drabbles, & One-shots:
New! Witches' Brouhaha: Ari saves you from a real-life fright on Halloween night...
New! Guessing Games: Ari doesn't like being kicked out of your bedroom.
What's Eating You, Mr. Levinson?: You decide to test your man's patience with a prank you saw on TikTok. CLICK HERE to read Andrew Barber's reaction to the same prompt. [Request]
Cross-Country Christmas: When Ari is left stranded at the airport on Christmas Eve, you find yourself in need of a little holiday miracle... **
The Anatomy of An Orgasm: You make the mistake of faking an orgasm while in bed with Ari... ** [Request]
Convincing Ari to Dance with You: [Request]
Regrets Only: Ari reaches his limit with your latest TikTok prank... ** [Request]
Bad Days: Ari helps you get through a particularly bad day... **
MichĂšle: Ari doesn't approve of your latest trip to the spa. ** [Request]
Jiggly: You find yourself feeling a little self-conscious after it becomes clear you've gained a little weight. **
Easy, Baby: Ari just wants to do his part to help you relax. **
Promises, Promises: Ari exacts a promise from you as a reward for his patience. **
2K notes · View notes
dogboyratgirl · 5 months ago
Text
Honey, do you need a hot meal?
Troy is hungry. Lint is the meal.
trigger warnings for cannibalism and gore
hey guys..... i wrote this little thing in one day..... btw.... llintroller save meee... title is from Your body, My Temple by Will Wood
Troy and Lint are standing in In the middle of the living room. Lint has just told her that he wanted him to eat them. Not even that he could, but that he wanted her to.
And Troy can't deny, the idea is appealing. She thought maybe this was just some sick joke, Lint can be a little strange at times, but no. Lint is entirely serious. And Troy wants to eat.
Lint must be a genius, Troy thinks to herself. She doesn’t know what he wants to say in this moment, but she knows more than anything what he wants to do. What he needs to do.
“Dude, are you sure? Cause like, you could die, man
” Troy’s desire doesn’t mean he won’t hesitate. This is his best friend, after all.
“Your dad turns people into clocks, doesn’t he?”
She lunges towards them, straight for his cheek. He bites down and tears a bit of flesh away, and it’s even better than she could have imagined. She can’t even describe it. It’s just the kind of taste that you savor for as long as you can, especially when it’s someone as important to you as Lint is to Troy.
Troy sees Lint’s face before going in for another bite, this time the flesh of their neck. He looks shocked, maybe he expected her to say something before going in for a taste, but that doesn’t stop a small grin from appearing on their face.
And Troy just continues to tear away from Lint, bit by bit, piece by piece. He feels like an animal, but can she really help it? This is Lint. This is her best friend and he tastes so good.
This might just be the best thing he’s ever tasted. Lint isn’t just good, he’s perfect. The blood in Troy’s mouth is warm and the metallic taste makes him want more. He can’t stop, and surely Lint won’t survive much more of this. Troy knows that.
And yet, his tongue begs for more of that wonderful flavor. He can’t stop.
She loves Lint. In this moment, right now, she loves Lint more than ever before. Maybe it’s because Lint is all there is right now, or maybe he just likes the way they taste as she rips chunks of flesh away from their body. Either way, he loves Lint so very much. And they say actions speak louder than words, don’t they?
She barely even gives herself time to chew, he just keeps on taking more and more, relishing in it. The texture, the flavor, it’s all perfect to Troy. There isn’t a world where Lint isn’t perfect. Not in Troy’s eyes.
Tears fall down Lint’s face, he feels his life fading away from them, but this is Troy and this is all they’d ever dreamed of. They can’t think of a better way to go out. He wonders if Troy even notices that they’re dying, or if she’s too busy tearing him apart.
Eventually, Troy finishes his meal, but Lint is long gone by then. She doesn’t know when it happened. It’s hard for her to think about anything else, part of him wants more, but he knows it’s time to put them away. Maybe next time she’ll try a bit of cooking.
Should Troy feel bad? He just ate her best friend, after all. But no, Troy doesn’t feel anything but love for them. The consequences of her actions haven’t hit him yet, so why should it matter?
Lint, what’s left of them, barely fits in the freezer. Troy needs to go out and buy a bigger one. And some ice. She figures she should clean up first, though. He washes the blood from her hair and skin, gets a different outfit, wonders if the stains will ever leave that shirt, and he’d be on his way if he didn’t hear a quiet voice behind her. It has that bug-like quality to it, like someone Troy knows; knew. Lint.
“Did I taste good?”
--
ERM!!! END NOTES I GUESS??????
i have never ever written anything like this and MAN it was fun.
lint is a freaking ghost now by the way because i have so many Thoughts about ghost lint and clockwork lint......... may write more in the future too. just like about ghost lint/clockwork lint sometimes and troy shenanigans
i hope you had fun reading this. hope it was a hit for the lintroller nation
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vampire-cupid · 2 months ago
Text
Truth or Dare Part 2 (Smut)
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Finally the smut is here.
MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!!
The clock showed 2 am when you sneaked out of the bed you shared with Sam.
Looking through the room you found everyone else asleep.
With an nervous fluttering in your stomach if you really should do this, you got out of bed. Stopping shortly in front of the mirror, you made sure the pillow didn’t destroy your hair before leaving.
The hallway was dark and empty and seemed almost creepy.
The walk to Josh’s room nearly made you run back to your own back, the shadows not helping.
All of a sudden, someone grabbed you from behind, a hand over your mouth silencing your scream as you tried to get out of the persons grip.
A dark chuckle made you freeze.“I never would have guessed you were such a scaredy cat.” you heard Josh laugh quietly behind you.
Finally taking his hand away from your lips you gasp out “Josh. Never do this to me again.”
“But where’s the fun in that?”
His breath hit your neck, his lips following a few seconds later, “I hope you were on the way to my room and not just searching for the bathroom.”
Josh’s hands had a firm grip on your waist, pressing his body against your back.
For a split second you thought about making a joke yourself but the feeling of something hard poking your backside instead made you gasp again.
“I take that as a ‘we should head to your room’.” Josh laughed giving you a little push to lead you to the master bedroom.
The first sight that greeted you was the big bed on the other side of the wall.
Glancing around you found the room perfectly clean. “Don’t tell me you cleaned your room for this.” you laugh quietly. “In that case, I wont.” Josh replied, closing the door and moving towards you.
Once again he hugged you close from behind, his hands pressing your hips back to his, the bulge in his pants growing and causing heat to erupt in your core.
Quiet whimpers left your lips at the feeling, wanting more.
Despite craving his touch, you stop him, pushing him away.
Carefully he stroked your arms, “Everything ok?” Josh asked, his voice slightly worried.
“I’m sorry Josh, I want this I really do but I don’t want to just be a one night stand or to just be friends with benefits. I really like you but-” your words were interrupted by Josh who pulled you into a deep and passionate kiss, making you lose your thoughts.
Breathlessly, Josh finally separated from you, looking in your eyes with a surprising intense look.
“I’m sorry I made you think that is all I want. I should have been more clear.” pulling me in a hug, Josh pressed a kiss to your forehead before rubbing your nose with his making you giggle.
“I hoped this would be the start for the two of us. Maybe not the most romantic way to get together but I am not the most romantic guy.” he explained, nervously rubbing the back of his head.
With a smile you take his face in your hands “Well, in that case I hope you can impress me tonight and make it worth skipping the first date.”
A surprised squeak fell from your lips as Josh picked you up without a warning, kissing you deep and moving you to his bed, letting you fall backwards on it.
“Don’t worry, I plan to make this a night none of us will ever forget.” he said, giving you a surprisingly soft kiss.
“And if you want me to stop, tell me at any time and I will.” he promised.
Barely a second later he was on top of you, once again kissing with enough passion to steal your breath.
Your legs instinctively wrap around his waist, pressing his crotch against yours. He groans against your lips, grabbing your hips tightly.
Grinding your hips against his, you enjoyed the way he moaned against your lips.
Moving your hips again to try and get the same reaction, you instead ended up with him biting your lower lip in a teasing way before suddenly pulling completely off.
The way he stood in front of you, staring down with his teasing smirk made you clench your legs in anticipation.
With quick movement, Josh pulled his shirt off, showing off his toned body.
“Sorry sweetheart but you don’t get to tease me today.”
Before you could ask what he meant, he already leaned over you again, sucking marks against your neck while his hands slid under your shirt.
Desperately you tried to hold back your moans but as you felt one of Josh’s hand cup your breast, you couldn’t hold it in.
He groaned against your neck, leaning up to whisper in your ear “Such a good girl, not even wearing a bra for me.” A shiver ran down your spine as he licked a long stripe up your neck.
With a sudden eagerness, Josh pushed your shirt up to reveal your chest to him, the coldness of the room causing your nipples to harden in seconds.
Before you could tell him that he should be more careful, his mouth was already on one of your boobs, kissing and biting the skin around your nipples.
The whines that left your lips urged him on even more.
As you tried to move so that his lips finally met your nipple, he left and repeated the treatment on your other boob.
“Josh! Please!” you begged, grabbing his shoulders to keep you grounded.
With your legs around him, you tried to pull him closer, needing some kind of friction.
But Josh kept his hips away from yours, making you focus on the feeling of his lips alone.
A sudden cry left your lips as Josh bit your nipple without warning.
Biting your lip to keep quiet you thought you could manage until Josh took your nipple in his mouth, sucking roughly. Your moans filled the room as Josh kept going, switching between biting and licking.
“Josh!” you cried out, already knowing your panties were completely drench by now.
When he finally decided to give your chest a break, you were laying breathlessly beneath him. You didn’t even have to look at him to know he was smiling like an idiot right now.
“If you keep screaming like that, everyone will know what we are doing. Unless you want to have an audience?” His words made a whine come out of your throat.
Josh lowered his face down to your chest again. Keeping his eyes on your face as he kissed down your body, over your stomach and to your pants.
With a harsh tug, they were gone, your legs bare to him as his face kept getting lower.
“Josh, you don’t have to-” your tried to say but were interrupted by your own moan.
Josh was kissing you over your panties, sucking on your clit through the piece of cloth.
Once again your hands were in his hair.
You could finally catch your breath again as he let up form your center. The peace didn’t last long before the cold air hit your wet pussy. Josh hastily had pulled your panties off your legs, unbeknownst to you, he hid them in his pants pocket before diving back between your legs.
His tongue drew patterns against your clit, making you moan louder than you wanted to.
Keeping quiet didn’t work for long.
The second Josh slowly pushed a finger inside, he started to suck on your clit.
Your back arched as you cried out his name, your legs around his leg as you came closer to your end.
A second finger entered you and your legs started to tremble.
Unable to decide if you wanted to pull him closer and get more or push him away because the feeling became to much, you ended up cumming before you could make a decision, screaming his name into the night, Josh still not stopping his movement.
Only when your legs fall limb does he finally pull away.
Your eyes were closed as you tried to catch your breath and when you finally looked down he was looking at you. That stupid grin back on his face as he licked your juices off his lips.
“I knew you would sound pretty.”
Despite all the things he already did tonight, these were the right words to make you flustered.
“You are truly adorable.” Josh said leaning his head against your leg as he kept his eyes at your flustered face.
Feeling the bed dip, you look down at Josh who was moving up again to press his lips against yours again.
Your tongues danced together and you could taste yourself in the kiss.
You could faintly hear something rustling. Only when you felt Josh’s cock slap against your core, hitting your clit and making you jump, did you realize he was undressing himself.
“Josh, I want you.” you moan out, trying to pull him closer again.
To your surprise, he pulled away, “Let me just grab a condom.”
You watched his back as he fished the protection from his nightstand and your eyes were pretty much locked on his hands as he rolled it down his impressive length.
Once he was on top of you again, Josh settled between your legs, wrapping them around his waist. His cock once again came in contact with your core.
Rubbing against your entrance, Josh covered himself in your slickness.
“Do you think it’s enough or should I grab some lube?” he asked, softly peppering your face in kisses.
Wrapping your arms around his back you finally caught his lips with yours. “I think it should work without but thank you.”
Finally you could feel his tip line up with your entrance, slowly pushing inside.
Hiding your face in his crook where his shoulder and neck met, you moan quietly at the feeling of being stretched.
He was slow and careful as he slid inside, filling you deliciously.
Finally fully inside, he stopped kissing the side of your face. “You ready?”
“Yes.” you whisper against his skin.
Testing your limits, he nearly pulled out, only keeping the tip inside before thrusting back in with a bit of force. Hearing your moans, silenced against his skin, you took it as a sign to get a bit rougher.
Again and again he repeated the motion, getting faster and harsher with each thrust.
With each thrust your moans got louder making you bit Josh’s shoulder to try and keep quiet.
But as Josh changed the angle of his thrusts, hitting your G-spot perfectly, you threw your head back, screaming out in pleasure.
Josh’s lips found your neck once again, sucking even more marks against your neck as he kept bullying that special spot inside you.
You couldn’t think straight, crying out for Josh over and over.
A fluttering feeling in your core made you call out to Josh. “Please!”
As if understanding from this single word alone, his fingers move between you two, circling your clit in the perfect rhythm.
Your legs began to shake as you felt your high approaching.
“Be a good girl and cum for daddy.” Josh groaned in your ear.
In an instant you reached your peak, crying out loud enough you were sure you would have a sore throat the next day.
Josh was still pounding into you, making your orgasm last longer.
His breath was coming out in hasty breaths. He desperately pressed his lips against yours, kissing you over and over until you felt him groan against your lips, his hips slowing down before coming to a complete halt inside you.
You don’t know how long you stayed like this, just holding each other.
You barely remember how Josh pulled out or cleaned you up.
But you do remember how he pulled your still naked body against his, wrapping the two of you in a blanket falling asleep with a sleepy kiss against your lips and Josh laying his head on top of your head, pulling you against his chest.
________________________________
The next morning, woke up still naked against Josh. Smiling you snuggled closer, happy to feel his arms tighten around you.
By the time you two decided to get out of bed, walking down to the kitchen while giggling, you forgot about the other people in the lodge.
Only when you were cuddling on the couch with Josh, sipping on your drink were you forced to remember.
Walking down the stairs came no other then the rest of your friend group, all of them looking grumpy as they glared at the two of you.
Confused you stared at them but before you could say something, Josh already opened his mouth. “Surprise! We are a couple now!”
“We know!” came the grumpy respond from everyone.
“What? How?” you ask, still not remembering how loud you truly were last night.
“We could hear all of it.” Mike said, walking past you to the kitchen to grab a coffee. Emily and Jess follow him but you didn’t miss the way the girls glanced at Josh.
A sudden *smack* startled you and made you look back.
Despite still being grumpy about the lack of sleep, Chris gave Josh a high five.
The meaning of the situation made your cheeks heat up as you once again hid your face against Josh who just smiled cockily.
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mollywog · 24 days ago
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What are your thoughts on Possibility of Peeta in Canon feeling guilt over a perception that he forced Katniss into the Star crossed lovers?
Oooo -Thank you for giving me an opportunity to talk about this.
One of Peeta’s main survival tactics is his ability to read people and situations
. And he’s pretty good at it (which probably was helpful to him far before the arena with a volatile mother but that’s maybe more the stuff of HCs so moving on)
With that in mind:
One of the first things Peeta says to Katniss upon her discovering him in the arena is:
"Lean down a minute first," he says. "Need to tell you something." I lean over and put my good ear to his lips, which tickle as he whispers. "Remember, we're madly in love, so it's all right to kiss me anytime you feel like it."
Even in his fevered state, Peeta is aware that this is an act (at least on Katniss’s side)
Later - when he’s trying to convince Katniss not to go to the feast and she claims that she isn’t, he says:
"You're such a bad liar, Katniss. I don't know how you've survived this long." He begins to mimic me. "I knew that goat would be a little gold mine. You're a little cooler though. Of course, I'm not going." He shakes his head. "Never gamble at cards. You'll lose your last coin," he says.
‘I knew that goat would be a little gold mine. You're a little cooler though. Of course, I'm not going.’ -> all moments he (accurately) clocked where Katniss wasn’t being 100% honest if not outright lying
The ‘I don’t know how you’ve survived this long’ part is particularly interesting to me but I digress.
So then fast forward to after the feast where Katniss risked her life to save him:
"No! Just don't, Katniss!" His grip tightens, hurting my hand, and there's real anger in his voice. "Don't die for me. You won't be doing me any favors. All right?"
I'm startled by his intensity but recognize an excellent opportunity for getting food, so I try to keep up. "Maybe I did it for myself, Peeta, did you ever think of that? Maybe you aren't the only one who ... who worries about ... what it would be like if ..."
I fumble. I'm not as smooth with words as Peeta. And while I was talking, the idea of actually losing Peeta hit me again and I realized how much I don't want him to die. And it's not about the sponsors. And it's not about what will happen back home. And it's not just that I don't want to be alone. It's him. I do not want to lose the boy with the bread
"If what, Katniss?" he says softly.
I wish I could pull the shutters closed, blocking out this moment from the prying eyes of Panem. Even if it means losing food. Whatever I'm feeling, it's no one's business but mine.
"That's exactly the kind of topic Haymitch told me to steer clear of," I say evasively, although Haymitch never said anything of the kind. In fact, he's probably cursing me out right now for dropping the ball during such an emotionally charged moment. But Peeta somehow catches it.
"Then I'll just have to fill in the blanks myself," he says, and moves in to me.
In this moment Katniss inwardly acknowledges that she has real feeling beyond the act and Peeta, again, reads those feelings correctly.
This is the turning point for him.
So, then imagine his surprise on the train tracks (and all the self doubt):
"It was all for the Games," Peeta says. "How you acted."
"Not all of it," I say, tightly holding on to my flowers.
"Then how much? No, forget that. I guess the real question is what's going to be left when we get home?" he says.
(Just picture Peeta replaying the games in his head and trying to figure out where he missed the tell.)
We often joke about Peeta being oblivious to Katniss’s feelings for him in Catching Fire, but really: He’s been burned by ‘misinterpreting’ her before and he’s trying not to make the same ‘mistake’ again.
In a way
“You love me. Real or not real?
Is a remnant of that doubt.
Anyways - back you your original question:
There wasn't a single person in Panem expecting the Gamemakers to allow for two winners prior to the rule change... 73 years of one Victor: It's unprecedented.
The star-crossed lovers strategy, under normal game circumstances,
Benefits them both. The romance makes them both fan favorites to sponsors. But, at the end of the day, there can only be one Victor. So when one were to die, public sympathy would swing sponsors towards the broken hearted other.
Relied very little on Katniss; she didn't have to opportunity to state her feelings for Peeta to the audience after the interview and in the arena, up until the rule change, she barely saw him. Had he died before the (unprecedented) rule change, there wouldn’t be much for her to do but appear sad. The star-crossed lover but is eventually just a sound bite.
No one could have predicted that both Katniss and Peeta would be crowned victors and have to maintain the strategy indefinitely.
So yes, on top of believing he mistook Katniss’s feelings for him in the arena, he then discovered they’d have to maintain the pretense of lovers for the rest of their lives
 I’m sure he felt all sorts of miserable ways about that.
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estrellami-1 · 11 months ago
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Quite Miss Home
Had an idea. Wrote 2.3k words in a couple of hours. Pure fluff based on the James Arthur song. ❀
“Helloooooo, Chicago!” Eddie yells into the mic, reveling in the roar he gets back from the audience.
It’s been ten years since it all; since the end of the world as he knew it and the beginning of something so much better. Corroded Coffin had taken off quickly, after the “earthquakes;” something about rising from the ashes like a phoenix, if Eddie had to guess, but he’s not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, just enjoy what he’s given, and damn is he enjoying it.
“How are you?” He asks, grinning when the audience cheers again. “Alright, alright. Man, I’ll tell you, it’s fuckin’ awesome being here. But can I tell you a secret?” The audience roars again, and he grins as he takes his guitar off, hoisting it up. “Who’s this?”
“Sweetheart!” The crowd yells back.
“That’s right!” He quietly thanks the stagehand who darts up to grab it from him. “But it’s not my only sweetheart. In fact, my real sweetheart is at home. And this tour is so awesome, but I’m kinda starting to miss my sweetheart.”
“Aww,” the crowd says, and he grins softly at them.
“I know,” he says. “This next song is for my sweetheart. They’re at home because they get migraines, and tours aren’t very conducive to not getting migraines, so we both decided it would be better if they stayed home. So this next song isn’t Corroded Coffin’s normal sound. In fact-” he gestures at the stage behind him- “if you’ll notice, the rest of the boys aren’t up here anymore. This is an Eddie Munson original, and I want to thank them, from the bottom of my heart, for letting me be the dramatic sap I am, and letting me sing this song, on national television, for my sweetheart.” The stagehand comes up again, this time with an acoustic, and again Eddie thanks him. “So, sweetheart,” he says, facing the cameras, “this one’s for you.”
“I'm in the kitchen while you smoke outside. You're careful not to let the smoke inside. I always tell you it's poison, but I know it helps you take the edge off the day.”
Eddie knows exactly where Steve’s gonna be when he gets home from where he works part-time as a bartender. In through the front door, dropping his keys on the kitchen counter, straight through to the porch where Steve’s smoking.
“Y’know those things are poison,” he jokes, stealing it straight from Steve’s mouth and taking a drag before giving it back to him.
“I never want kids,” Steve says in answer. He’s a kindergarten teacher, so he comes home in one of two moods: he has the worst baby fever, or he never wants to see another child again.
“Yeah? What happened today?” Eddie asks, settling in close. He’s hungry, and was vaguely considering a stir fry, but instead he tucks in close as Steve takes another drag, preparing himself.
“Okay, so get this.”
“We get a drink before it's closing time, the one on High Street with the blinking sign. All these memories feel poignant. I won't be there to see the snow melt away.”
“Hey,” Eddie says, seeing someone settle at the bar in his periphery. “What can I get you?”
Then he actually turns to face the person, and-
Oh.
“Whiskey on the rocks,” Steve grins, leaning over the counter. “And maybe
 something else? A little later?”
A thrill of heat rushes through Eddie, but he rolls his eyes with a grin and pushes Steve back by a palm to his forehead. “Keep it in your pants,” he admonishes, “I’m on the clock for the next four hours. Someone didn’t tell me they were gonna drop in, and I took my break twenty minutes ago.”
Steve hums. “Y’know, a dull knife could be very dangerous,” he says. “I certainly hope the one you’re using to cut limes is sharp.”
Oh.
Eddie grins, always on board, and leans over the counter. “Steve Harrington,” he purrs, delighting in the flush racing up his cheeks and down his neck. “What exactly are you insinuating?”
Steve sits there for a beat, drains his whiskey, and hops off the stool with a dangerous smirk. “Careful on your way out. It started snowing.”
“Oh, yeah, I been gone on business. I gotta make some money. I really feel the distance.”
“I’m gonna miss you,” Steve murmurs, clinging to Eddie like a koala. They’re still in bed, and Eddie doesn’t have to leave for another five hours. He’s gonna spend all the time he can in bed with Steve.
“I know, baby,” Eddie whispers back. “Tours are so long.”
“A month,” Steve agrees. “And then another three, after Indy.”
“But just think,” Eddie murmurs. “You’re still working, right? And those kids love you, and no matter what you say, I know you love them. And this tour is gonna be really good for us. We could get Wayne into a house, and help Hop with his payments-”
“He won’t accept the help.”
“No, but Joyce will,” Eddie grins. Steve laughs softly into his chest, then sighs and kisses a tattoo.
“I just wish I could be with you. I wish my head worked right.”
“Baby,” Eddie says firmly, “I love you. Regardless of if you can or can’t come with me. If you’re gonna be miserable the entire time—and we both know you would be, don’t even try to deny it—I’d be miserable, too.”
“I know,” Steve sighs.
“But hey. We’ve got time right now. And I’m not letting you move from this very spot until I’m gonna be late.”
Steve chuckles. “I’ll drag you out myself, Eds, much as I don’t want it I know you need to go.”
“I know,” Eddie says softly, turning so they’re both on their sides, facing each other. “But I don’t have to go right now. And I’m gonna spend as much time as I can right now with you.”
“I know.”
“No, baby,” Eddie says, eyes wide, “you don’t get it. I won’t even let you pee alone today.”
“So just like normal, then,” Steve grins.
Eddie squawks.
“And I quite miss home. And I miss you telling me to leave my shoes at the door 'cause you just swept the floor, and the dirt drives you crazy. Yeah, I quite miss home, 'cause it feels like poetry. When the rain falls down on the window while you're in my arms, and we're watching the TV. Yeah, I quite miss home. Yeah, I quite miss home.”
“Hey, Eds,” Steve calls as soon as Eddie steps foot inside. “Shoes off at the door, I just swept and I swear to God, if you track dirt into the house-”
Eddie chuckles, toeing his shoes off before walking further into the house. “I know, baby, it wreaks havoc on your bare feet to feel it. I get a free pass from that ‘cause I wear socks like a normal person.”
“Literally when have you ever been normal,” Steve says, “that’s not normal, you and your fuckin’ ice cube toes in the middle of the goddamn night on my calves-”
Eddie snickers. “‘S not my fault you’re a furnace, babe.”
“I will maintain that it is your fault until we can prove otherwise, actually.”
Eddie is in love with this man. “What the fuck does that mean?” He asks, laughing, wandering down the hallway and into their room, where Steve’s folding laundry. “Fuck, I love you.”
Steve grins and accepts a kiss. “I love you too.”
“I smell you cooking from the living room, and then I tell you that I love your food. I know it doesn't come easy, but you know it reminds me where I'm from.”
“Baby,” Eddie groans when he walks in. “Are you making the pork?”
“I’m trying,” Steve grumbles, frowning at the pan. “‘S not working. It’s not getting crispy like it should.”
Eddie walks closer, wrapping his arms around Steve’s waist and nuzzling the side of his head. “Looks amazing,” he murmurs. “And smells even better.”
Steve sighs. “I just wish it was easier for me.”
“You don’t have to do this, baby.”
“But I know you love it.”
“I mean, yeah. But I love anything you cook, Steve. Or anything you call in. It’s the effort, y’know? Even when you don’t have the energy for anything but calling in pizza.”
Steve smiles. “You’re a sap, y’know that?”
Eddie chuckles, kissing Steve’s neck. “Yeah, I know. I’ve been down bad for you for a while, baby.”
“Yeah?” Steve tilts his head to allow Eddie better access. “How long?”
Eddie hums, moving down Steve’s neck, worrying his collarbone. “Probably since the demobat, Big Boy.”
Steve moans as Eddie sucks a mark high on his neck, just beneath his ear. “Yeah?” He asks, high and breathy.
Eddie turns the heat off. “Yeah.” A little bite to Steve’s earlobe as his hand creeps around to the front of Steve’s jeans. “Lemme show you?”
Steve pants. “Dinner-”
“Can wait,” Eddie growls. “I want you tonight, baby.”
“Whoa, I'm in another city. I got nobody with me. And it just really hit me.”
“Hey, baby,” someone croons. Eddie thinks he recognizes her from the last stop on the tour.
“Um
 hi?”
She giggles. “So coy. You don’t have to play like that with me, baby.”
Eddie narrows his eyes. “I’m not your baby.”
“Well, no,” she admits. “But you could be. Or I could be yours, if you’re more into being a Daddy.” She runs teasing fingers up Eddie’s arm.
He jerks his arm away. “Look, I’m sure you’re nice and all, but I’m really not looking-”
“Not yet you’re not,” she says.
“I don’t even know what that means- look, lady, I don’t want anything, okay?”
“Oh, come on, now-”
“I said no,” he says, harsher than he maybe should have, for the way she steps backs in shock. “Please leave,” he continues, gentler. “Or I’ll call security. And I don’t want to have to do that.”
She narrows her eyes at him. “You could’ve had a great lay.”
“I have a great lay,” he shoots back. “And I’m not willing to sacrifice it for a meaningless one-night-stand.” He sighs, runs a hand through his hair. “I’m sure you’re a great lady. But I’ve got my other half at home.”
“Your other half?” Steve interrupts over the phone, delight evident in his voice. “Christ, Eds, you’re a sap, I miss you so fuckin’ much.”
“I know, baby, I miss you too, now I was in the middle of a story.”
“That I quite miss home, and I miss you telling me to leave my shoes at the door 'cause you just swept the floor, and the dirt drives you crazy. Yeah, I quite miss home, 'cause it feels like poetry when the rain falls down on the window, while you're in my arms, and we're watching the TV.”
“Baby,” Eddie yells inside, “It’s raining lynxes and wolves!”
Steve laughs from the laundry room. “Why can’t you just say cats and dogs?”
“Because,” he stresses, “it’s not. It’s raining so hard, babe, it’s perfect couch-cuddling weather, can we watch a movie? Please?”
Steve smiles. “Dinner’s in the oven keeping warm. Labyrinth is in the player already.”
Eddie stills, staring at Steve, for a solid thirty seconds. “Fuck, I love you,” he murmurs. Steve grins and steals a kiss.
“Go get the food,” he says. “I’ll be there in just a minute, just gotta finishing moving this stuff from the washer to the dryer.”
He does, and Steve does, and soon the dirty dishes are abandoned on the coffee table and their feet are tucked up on the couch. Steve’s leaning on Eddie and Eddie’s hand is under his shirt, not for anything suggestive, simply just to feel.
He kisses Steve’s head with a content sigh, and Steve tilts his head back to look at him. “What’s up?”
“Y’know this is one of the things I miss the most when I’m touring?”
Steve smiles. “Just sitting watching a movie?”
“Well, anything with you, actually. But yeah. No expectations, just the movie, and the rain, and just. Us.”
Steve smiles and kisses his jaw. “This is one of the things I miss most when you’re on tour, too.”
“Yeah, I quite miss home. Yeah, I quite miss home. And I quite miss home. Yeah, I miss you telling me to leave my shoes at the door 'cause you just swept the floor and the dirt drives you crazy. Oh, I just miss home, no, no, 'cause it feels like poetry, as the rain falls down on the window while you're in my arms and we're watching the TV. Oh, I miss home, yeah, I quite miss home, no. Oh, I quite miss home. Yeah, yeah, I quite miss home.”
The last strum reverberates through the silent auditorium. Then, an anguished groan. “What the fuck, why are you perfect?”
Eddie laughs along with the rest of the crowd. “That’s quite the compliment, but no, my sweetheart will be the first to tell you I’m anything but perfect.”
Three and a half weeks later, Steve slams into him as he’s walking into the house. “Oh,” he says, delighted. “Hi, baby.”
“Fuck you,” Steve says, “fuck you and your song, I swear to God, Eds-” he tugs on Eddie’s shirt, pulling him away from the door, and Eddie chuckles.
“Baby, my shoes, the floors-”
“Fuck your shoes,” Steve growls. “Fuck the floors. If I’m not naked in bed in the next thirty seconds-”
Eddie grins and picks him up. “Say no more,” he murmurs into Steve’s ear, taking purposeful strides toward the bedroom.
As he kicks the door shut, he has one thought: This is my favorite part of coming home.
Permanent Taglist: @justforthedead89 @ilovecupcakesandtea @madigoround @bookbinderbitch @suddenlyinlove @nburkhardt @artiststarme @paintsplatteredandimperfect @i-less-than-three-you @alyelf @quarble @messrs-weasley @littlewildflowerkitten @vankaar @starman-jpg @bornonthesavage @steddie-there @goodolefashionedloverboi @mischivarien @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @platinum-sunset @just-ladyme @steddiestains @swimmingbirdrunningrock @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @martinskis-lydias @notaqueenakhaleesi @sleepyboosstuff @bestwifehaver @m-owo-n @thatonebadideapanda @finalmoondragon @velocitytimes2 @callmeanythjing @ajeff855 @ilikeititspretty @knitsforthetrail @sillysparrow @that-one-corvid @ace-is-bored @inadequatecowboy @harpymoth @weirdandabsurd42
Also tagging @finntheehumaneater and @gloomysoup because I figure you might like it ❀
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Eddie Munson's second chance
Written for the @steddieholidaydrabbles, day 14
Prompt: Angst with a happy ending
Rated: G
CW: referenced child neglect/abuse
Tags: Modern AU, Royalty AU, Royal Steve Harrington, Rockstar Eddie Munson
Notes: Continued from day 11. This was angstier in my head, but Eddie is a silly goose.
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Eddie Munson is no stranger to fucking up. He's long accepted that. It's just a thing that happens.
Sometimes, you'll miscalculate a stage dive and have to cancel the rest of the tour. 
Sometimes, you'll get so caught up in your stupid rockstar stuff, you'll forget about the youth center you founded to give other kids a better childhood. 
Sometimes, you'll meet an adorable guy named Dustin at said youth center, and rant about how useless the monarchy is, only to find out that Dustin isn't Dustin at all, but Crown Prince Steven Harrington, aka the future king, aka owner of the saddest pair of puppy dog eyes that Eddie has ever failed to get out of his goddamn head. 
Which brings him to his current predicament, sitting on the edge of his bed, waiting for Chrissy to pick up the phone. She does after the second dial tone, which is pretty impressive for three in the morning. 
"We must cancel the royal visit," Eddie blurts before she can ask what's wrong. 
"Eds," she yawns. "We've been over this. Just because you can't stand the guy-" 
"That's not it," Eddie groans. "Listen 
 I met him yesterday? Only I didn't know it was him? And I flirted with him and he was really cute but I couldn't keep my fucking mouth shut and now I can't ever see him again because I don't wanna rot in some dungeon, understand?" 
"No," she says. Damn, it sounded perfectly logical in his head. "But this doesn't seem like something we should discuss on the phone. Stay put, I'm coming over." 
*
They don't cancel the royal visit, but Eddie refuses to make an appearance. Instead, he watches from behind the curtains of the office window like a creep. The Prince looks dashing in his tailored suit, smiling for the cameras, joking with the kids, listening to Chrissy with polite attention as she shows him around the place. Eddie loves her so fucking much, will be forever grateful that she filled in for him. 
Even if she tied it to one condition. 
He watches how she whispers something into the Prince's ear, how his smile melts into an angry frown. How they both turn to stare at the window. Eddie flinches away from the curtains, heart in his throat. 
He wonders if the dungeons have WiFi. 
*
"You have exactly ten minutes," says the bodyguard. It’s the same one from yesterday, the one called Hop. Eddie doesn’t reply, just nods stiffly. Hop looks at him like he's contemplating murder, but then he ducks out of the room with a muttered all clear.
Prince Steven steps in. The door clicks shut. Silence descends. 
"Well," Eddie finally mumbles. "I guess this is the part where I bow and grovel." 
The Prince snorts. "Please don't, Mr Munson. I'd rather you save us both the embarrassment."
Eddie winces, because ouch. That stings more than it should. 
Neither of them says anything for a long while. The clock on the wall keeps ticking. 
"So," Eddie rocks awkwardly on the soles of his combat boots. "Who's Dustin?" 
Those plush lips twitch into a smile and those pretty eyes light up. For a moment, Eddie glimpses the boy from yesterday. 
"My housekeeper's kid. He'd be so mad if he knew I met you and didn't get him an autograph." 
He says it with genuine concern, like he's honestly afraid of getting shit from a little kid, and Eddie can't help but grin. 
"Don't worry, I won't tell." 
This gets him a huffed laugh. 
"He'd love this place, it's really cool." 
When Eddie looks up, the Prince is looking at the picture frames on the walls, photos of smiling kids and drawings in crayon and watercolors. Eddie sighs and joins him, stares long and hard of a picture of Max on her skateboard. 
"Thanks. I, um 
 grew up around here, and I wanted to give these kids a safe space. Where they can just 
 be children. I never really had that myself." 
A thoughtful hum. Those hazel eyes are soft with an expression that looks weirdly like longing. Eddie remembers watching stories about the royal family on his uncle's rickety TV set. A solemn-faced boy his own age trailing behind his parents outside of private jets, in lush parks and gilded halls. Always in expensive suits. Always well-behaved. Always way too grown-up.
Well, shit. 
"Listen, your highness 
" 
"Steve is fine." 
"Listen, Steve 
" Eddie lets the name linger on his tongue, finds that he likes the feel of it. "I guess I've been a bit of a dick." 
A hint of that bitchy little smile. "You guess correctly." 
"Whatever," Eddie huffs. "I'm trying to apologize here, so may I? Or are you throwing me in the dungeons?" 
"The 
" Steve blinks. Then, his mouth starts to curl. "We, um 
 don't actually do that anymore. Unless you're into that, then I'm sure it could be arranged." 
Eddie sputters and Steve bites back a laugh. 
"If you really wanna make up for it," he then says. "I hear your concert next week is all sold out? Dustin would love backstage tickets." 
Eddie frowns. 
"Dustin as in the kid or 
" 
"Steve?" Hop cracks the door open. "Time to go, c'mon." 
Steve smiles, bright and sunshiny. "On my way." 
He turns to Eddie, grabs a pen and a notepad from the chaos on the desk.
"Backstage tickets, two of them. I'll be expecting them by tomorrow." 
*
When Chrissy bustles in not five minutes later, she finds Eddie in the office chair, staring morosely at the still drawn curtains. 
"Eds? Everything okay?" Eddie just groans and hides his head in his hands, so she crouches down in front of him, hands on his knees. "He didn't give you shit, did he?" 
"Shit? I wish. No, it's far worse than that." Eddie cackles hysterically and unclenches his fist, presenting a crumpled piece of notebook paper. "He gave me his number." 
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Part 3
All my holiday drabbles
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cheriladycl01 · 11 months ago
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The Rookie Prodigy - Carlos Sainz x Driver! Reader Part 5
Plot: You are a rookie coming into the 2022 season of Formula One into Alfa Romeo with team member Zhou Guanyu, being in a mid tier team can you help them rise up the ranks. What pressures occur for the only rookies within the 2022 line up!
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As said in your interviews you did spend the time in the break working on your fitness. You and Zhou stayed in Switzerland the whole time, you both were in the gym pretty much everyday.
You guys watched as your team made core improvements to the car, using lots from the Ferrari currently on the grid. You knew the car would be quicker for Italy and you were excited to race there as it was a track your car would do well in.
You didn't think much about what happened with Carlos either, because why would you. It was a heat of the moment thing where there was an obvious attraction to Carlos, he had the hair, the puppy dog eyes, those soft muscles and the accent. The accent was the thing that really got you.
You'd worked too hard to get to where you are now and you weren't going to risk neither your job, nor your reputation for a guy. Regardless of how insanely attractive you found him.
The break between your last race in Australia until IMOLA felt very short despite it being a two weekend gap. Your mind was extremely clear and you were ready for this weekend.
You and Zhou flew to Italy from Switzerland and went right to the track. You both messed around for the whole of media day to the point where people couldn't actually find you both.
You were causing chaos round the paddock, running up and down the strip seeing who could do it the quickest or seeing who could sneak into a different teams hospitality and take a snack.
When media did find you, both you and Zhou couldn't stop laughing at everything the both of you were saying. Sometime's you'd say a joke to him in Chinese which obviously had the two of you screaming of laughter while the team and presenters awkwardly tried to work out what was so funny.
You eventually answered the racing related questions which everyone especially your PR managers were happy for even though you couldn't tell them about any of the improvements on the car. Just that you felt like this would be an more interesting race putting you into the higher mid field than you were right now.
Race day came so soon, and after being told to attempt to sand bag a little in FP1 coming 11 overall. You ended up qualifying 8th overall, which wasn't what you or you team were looking for but after running into some last minute car issues you just weren't there.
Saturday was awful, because of those car issues you didn't actually manage to get out for FP2 and went straight into the Sprint race. Luckily you were in points position coming in P7.
When it came to the race your car was fully ready and so were you. Zhou however had the opposite of you, where he had to have work done on his car when in Parc-Ferme conditions so he had to start from the pit lane.
You'd managed some immense overtakes throughout the race and you managed to come P4. It was your highest position yet and your race engineer couldn't be happier with you.
"Amazing race Y/N, guessing you had changes to the car after Australia and well, we really got to see your driving abilities up there today. You know considering that was a mid-field car, you really really showed us what you are made off!" the interviewer offers.
"Yeah it was a fantastic drive, just shy of a podium. Lando, was driving extremely well and defended from me until the end and I cant congratulate him more for that podium. Is it okay if i call this short, I want to be there to support my friend!" you smile, looking at the time next to the clock by the interviewing knowing the podium would be soon.
"Yes, yes of course!" she shoos you away, making comments on how you have some of the purest and kindest relationships on the grid.
You ran up to where all the Mclaren and Red Bull workers stood. You waited off to the back waiting for Max, Sergio and Lando to come out.
"Hey, we haven't spoken for a while" a voice says behind you making you jump a little.
"Lewis?" you ask in shock, looking around to see if anyone else was here from Mercedes but he seemed to be alone.
"Yes, Y/N?" he asks looking directly at you.
"What are, what are you doing here?" you ask.
"Just watching the celebrations. Well done on the race today, you did amazing!" he compliments making a light blush come across your cheeks.
"Thank you, I er, would say the same for you but today was a kind of shit show for you!" you smile softly.
"Yeah, the car had no pace at all. I'll come back next week in Miami!" he smiles rubbing your shoulder. After a minute of silence he starts the conversation up again.
"I haven't really spoken to you for a while, what's been going on?" he asks titling his head to the side.
"I've just been focused on getting better, I-" you say about to mention Carlos but decide against it.
"You what?" he pushes looking over at you.
"Ceremony is starting, shhhhh!" you smile putting a finger up to your lip and cheer loudly as Lando comes out onto stage. Your jumping up and down, making him laugh and shake his head. All the McLaren workers turn to look at whoever was celebrating more than them, laughing when they see you.
"Of course it's her!" one of them jokes, before turning back as Sergio walks out shortly followed making the whole of the Red Bull Team go wild.
You stand there respectfully as the Deutsch National Anthem starts to play. Once it ends and everyone starts to leave where they are you turn to Lewis.
"Did you want to go out in Miami, I know this amazing Vegan restaurant and I think your personal trainer will be happy with what they serve there" he offers and you think about it for a few seconds.
I mean, Carlos literally cornered you and kissed you, but Lewis he was just asking you to dinner as friends before the next race.
"Yeah sure, I'd like that. I don't have any friends in Florida. So having one will be nice!" you smile, before your PR manager comes up to you explaining that you need to go to the race debriefing.
You and Lewis had of course been photographed in the paddock together and loads of media accounts had gotten a hold of it.
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Carlos had seen these posts, some of them particularly the tweets suggesting that you were both flirting and other posts suggesting that you watched the podium together.
He was shocked at first, he was angry that you would reject him the way you did and then say yes to Lewis.
But after he had some time to cool down and realize what had actually occurred, he came to the conclusion that these posts were the exact reason you couldn't be in a relationship with him. Everyone was always up in your business and it meant that whatever you were doing outside of driving they would use to critique your skills.
You probably had just bumped into Lewis at the podium ceremony and that picture was taken at the perfect time for the media to stir ridiculous stories about Lewis asking you out on a date in Miami to a Vegan restaurant.
He understood why you said what you said, now seeing how easily picked apart your life was. But he wanted to change that, he wanted to be able to be with you without all this animosity.
But how the Miami weekend would change things Carlos or yourself wasn't prepared for.
Taglist:
@littlesatanicassholebitch @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @stupidandunnecessary @clayra-g @daemyratwst @honey-belden @moonypixel @lauralarsen @vader-is-hot @ironcowboycopnickel @itsjustkhaos @the-untamed-soul @beebo86 @happylittlereader @ziejustme @lou-larcher5 @thewulf @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @chillyleclerc @chanthereader @annoyingmoonballoon @summissss @evieepepi08 @havaneseoger08 @celesteblack08 @gulphulp @fandom1ruined2me @celebstories @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhh @georgeparisole @dakotatankbig @youcannotcancelquidditch @zzonsbeek @tallbrownhairsarcastic @mellowarcadefun @ourteenagetragedy @otako5811 @countingstacksandpanicattacks @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @hopexcroc @mirrorball-6 @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @bigsimperika @blueberry64857959 @eiraethh @lilypadlover @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @the-fem1n1ne-urge @21stcenturytaegi @dark-night-sky-99 @spideybv28 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle @kapsylia @laneyspaulding19 @lazybot @malynn @cassielikereading @viennakarma @teamnovalak @landosgirlxoxo @marie0v @jlb20416 @yourbane @teamnovalak @nikfigueiredo @fionaschicken @0picels0 @seomako @urdad-hot @formula1mount @tinydeskwriter @butterfly-lover @ironmaiden1313
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itsnotbird · 5 months ago
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Orphic ~ File 3
Abience (n) ; the strong urge to avoid someone or something
Bucky!Barnes x Fem!Reader
Find previous part here
Masterlist
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An entire month passes since the strange incident. A complete month fades before you’re even mentioned again amongst the Avengers, and that’s only because Nick Fury turns back up with a thick looking file.
It’s all hushed whispers, and he and Tony spend an hour and thirty minutes in a conference room, discussing just what was in the file.
“I still can’t believe I missed something as big as this.” Nat says, trying to listen in on the conversation. Her ear pressed to the locked door, Steve, Wanda, and Sam wait behind her, all curious too.
“Yeah, it was certainly interesting.” Steve adds, arms crossed over his chest. His morals say not to eavesdrop, but he’s only human after all and he’s completely curious.
Inside the room, Tony rubs his head, trying to process the information.
“It’s a brand new case that opened up, all because Barnes pulled her from the street. I wouldn’t be here if I thought she couldn’t be trusted.” Fury states in a serious manner, watching Tony pick up a few more photos.
He aches, knowing how bad he treated you. Now, your life is spread out in front of him, showing him exactly why you acted the way you did.
“You really want us to take this on? To take her on?” He asks, pushing the evidence photos out of his sight, not baring to look at your marks and the brand on the back of your neck any longer.
Fury gathers the multitude of papers and sorts them back into the correct places. “She’s smart, really smart.” He says. “She was monitored, observed, we learned her habits, her behavior. She’s perfectly in control of her power, we made immense progress
”
Tony cocks his head. “But?”
“But, she’s just a little odd. She told us everything she knew, then went completely silent. Her therapist said it’s normal, it’s how she copes. If you ask her to do a task, she’ll do it, she knows the importance of her cooperation
she just needs to work on her people skills. That’s why I want her here.”
His jaw sets, then he groans at Fury’s request. “Fine. We’ll put her here.”
Fury smirks, closing his brief case up. “Good, she’ll be moved here in an hour.”
Tony glares. “How did you know I’d agree?”
Fury simple chuckles. “Because you never turn away strays anymore, even if it makes you grumpy.”
What the group waiting outside doesn’t expect is for the door to open so suddenly, making them earn a displeased look from Fury as he walks past them.
“Oh, good, some of you are already here.” Tony states, motioning them in. “Team meeting.”
- - - -
“How are the nightmares?”
Bucky stays silent, then looks at the clock to see if his mandatory hour is up yet.
It isn’t.
“I don’t have them.” He half lies, looking back to Dr. Raynor.
She gives him a look. “I don’t believe that.”
He fights his urge to groan. “Well, maybe you should, Doc.”
She sighs, then clicks her pen and pulls her notebook to her.
“Oh, don’t start with the damn notebook.” Bucky rolls his eyes. “I’m talking, aren’t I? That was the deal? I talk, you don’t write.”
The woman shakes her head. “You’re talking but giving no real answers.”
“I told you I’m not having the same nightmares.” He reasons, not realizing he just lead on to more questions.
“So you’re having different ones?” She asks, putting her pen down and giving him her full attention.
“I guess, yeah.” He shrugs, grinding his back molars.
“Are they better or worse?”
He wanted to storm out of the room, and he would if he wouldn’t get arrested. She had a way of poking and prodding at him, it made him twitch. Or maybe he was still feeling the side effects of the strange girl that shocked his nervous system.
“I don’t know
they’re different.” He states, a curt tone.
“What’s different about them?”
He runs a hand through his hair and sighs. “I’m not
killing people. Guess that’s progress, huh?” He attempts to joke, but she doesn’t smile, she just urges him to continue. So he looks down at his knee bouncing up and down.
“There’s someone else in them
this person.”
She’s interested in this. “A different person? Do you know them?”
I pulled her from the rain.
“No, not really.”
Raynor nods. “This is good, this is change. What is this person doing in the dreams?”
His fists clench, he bites his tongue for a moment too long. “She’s not doing anything except for just being there-”
“She?”
Crap. Now he’s said too much.
“Can we just talk about something else?” He grumbles, blinking hard in hopes of pushing the vision of your grey eyes out of his mind.
“You want to talk about something else?” She sighs. “Okay, how about other small changes you’re making? Have you been talking to your friends? Steve, Sam?”
Bucky sneers. “Sam isn’t my friend.”
Raynor rolls her eyes. “You get my point. Have you been talking to them?”
“Yeah, we chat over tea.” He says in a dry sarcastic tone.
The woman shakes her head. “We talked about this, you can’t push people completely away. When I suggested the apartment, I told you it was to heal on your own time, with no negative influences. That didn’t mean stop talking to the people who care about you.”
She had no clue what she was talking about, it made him agitated. When Raynor determined that he wasn’t going to discuss this either, she lets out a long sigh, then looks at him in question.
“You gonna get a haircut?” She asks.
He throws his hands up. “Now my hair’s the problem? You’re extra passive aggressive today, Doc.”
“You say that every session, James. I’m just asking a question because it’s getting a little long.”
He rubs his temple where he feels a headache coming on. “If I get a haircut, will you stop being so harsh?”
“No.”
What is he doing with his life?
- - - -
The team would have been more welcoming to you if they could find you.
Simply, you find a very quiet corner and sit there, listening and observing. Not necessarily hiding, but people tend to pass by without even noticing.
“Where is she?” Nat asks the guys who stand in the dining room, waiting for the meal to be done.
They all sort of shrug, it’s Steve that motions in a direction.
“I think she’s in the west hallway, by the ficus plant.” He says.
Natasha scoffs. “Did anyone tell her we are going to eat dinner?” She asks, looking between the group of them.
They all share a look of ‘did we?’
The answer is no.
“Maybe you guys should work on your people skills.” She says before walking off to retrieve you.
It even takes her a second to find you, but when she does, she smiles softly. Crouching to your level, she reaches for the phone in your hands that has about ten contacts and a music app. You search the music library, clicking on songs you’ve never heard before. They play through your headphones, a gift from Fury himself when your therapist expressed your love for music.
As Natasha lowers the phone from your face, you gently jump in surprise, then take the headphones off.
“Hi.” She says. “We’re going to be eating dinner, I’m sorry if people ignored you.”
You don’t respond, just nod.
“I’m Natasha.” She introduces as you stand from your corner, and she looks you over.
Your shoes were not laced up, you had knee high socks on that the hem of your dress dusted. A much too large sweater hung over your frame to help keep your body temperature warm, though it doesn’t help too much.
“Tomorrow, I’m going to sneak you out and we’re going to the mall. Okay?” She tells you, feeling bad that you’re wearing clothes S.H.E.I.L.D pieced together from a donation bin.
You look at your outfit and then nod, enjoying the idea of wearing pants.
You trail behind this sudden new friend, still intimidated by the large size of the facility. Soon, you enter the more comforting area of the compound and the full table of faces greet you with unsure smiles.
“Sit here.” Natasha says, pointing to the empty chair between her and Steve.
You do just that, but what you don’t expect is for the face across from you to be so
tense.
Bucky came to dinner after Raynor said all the right words to piss him off. He needed to prove her wrong, needed to prove that he could socialize
he just chose not to
and he had to be here for the new project plan in the morning. But what he didn’t think was going to happen was the girl that’s been tormenting him for a month to come and sit across from him. Your outfit was strange and pieced together, your long hair was in a braid that laid on your shoulder, you sat there with confusion and unsureness as everyone began to eat and talk.
You stayed completely silent.
“You don’t need permission to eat.” Steve softly whispers as a reminder as he sees your hesitation.
Right.
Free will.
You had that now.
Utensils scraped on plates, people joked and laughed, you just ate in the most polite way possible.
Bucky stared.
And most get uncomfortable by it, but you just stare back. It’s not a glare, there’s no meaning of anger behind it, it’s just a shared expression that catches the attention of the ones around you.
“Oh great, we got another one that stares.” Sam exclaims.
Steve clears his throat. “That’s James, or Bucky, whatever you want to call him.” He tells you, and of course you don’t respond, just hold the strange eye contact.
Bucky’s the first to break, he talks a gulp of water and looks away.
Tony breaks up the awkwardness. “Alright, Five? Is that what they’re calling you? Your room is next to Nat’s, remember? So that’s where you go after your infusion.”
You nod, and it raised confusion.
“Infusion?” Steve asks as you stare at your spoonful of mashed potatoes before taking the bite.
Tony looks at you, almost expecting you to answer the Captains question. You’re distracted though with finishing your meal to show you are appreciative of their kindness.
So Tony continues. “There’s just some things she needs until we can ween her off of it.”
You hate the way he says it, with pity like you’re a sick animal. A junky.
Your plate is clean now, you put your dirty utensils on it and then finish your water.
No one notices this habit except for Bucky.
Because he remembers doing that. He remembers completing tasks so carefully and waiting for either approval or a slap in the face. It makes him feel odd, makes him want to reach across the table and knock your neat work over.
You pull the sleeves of the chunky sweater over your hands, feeling a wave of tiredness sweep through you as well as that almost violent shiver of coldness. Everyone is lost in conversation about what the plan was for tomorrow, but you feel that teasing heat source radiate beside you and can’t help the way you lull towards it.
“Is this normal?” Steve asks as he feels the way you lean into his side, like a reptile to a heat lamp.
You’re asleep in an instance.
Bruce frowns. “The place she came from had her on a lot of bad stuff
the doctors who were assigned to her at SHEILD say her nerves are kind of shot. That’s why she’s always cold. As far as the falling asleep thing
well, she’s kind of traumatized so that tends to make people exhausted.”
Everyone gets very quiet, and Bucky knows that look on his best friend’s face. His brows are creased, eyes a little sad as he looks down at you. That means one thing only, that he was going to go full Captain America mode and try and save you.
“Is that what the team meeting is about in the morning?” Natasha asks. “Her situation?”
Tony nods. “Looks like you and Sleepy the dwarf have some things in common.”
- - - -
Everyone left the dining room, but Bucky lingered momentarily.
He stared at that damn plate.
Steve had woken you up and sent you to the MedBay, you made sure things looked perfect before you went.
Now, he reaches out and messes the whole thing up before Wanda - who’s on dish duty because she could clean everything up in two seconds- catches him.
“Buck, hey.” Steve says as he finds his friend heading to his spare room that he stays in when there’s things to do early in the morning.
The two super soldiers walk in silence for a moment before Steve speaks up.
“She scares you, doesn’t she?” He asks.
Bucky lies. “Why would she scare me?”
“Because she’s in the same position you were in.”
Bucky clenches his teeth, cursing his friend’s intuition.
What was he supposed to say? That he wanted to stay far away from you for some unknown reason? That part of him wishes he wasn’t the one to rescue you? Or that he wants to ask you every question he has and try to figure out the way your brain works?
He can’t say any of that.
So he just avoids the statement all together. “Yeah, well you’re gonna tuck her under your wing just because she’s needy, so you shouldn’t be asking me about her, Pal.” He jokes with a smile.
Steve laughs and shakes his head. “Oh come on, give me a break, alright?”
As they stop in front of Bucky’s room, Sam happens to pass them.
“You gonna get a haircut?” He asks Bucky.
The soldier glares. “Does my hair just offend everyone now?”
File 4
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yexthiccxa · 2 months ago
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Secrets of the Second Shift - (Part 3)
summary: you find out that choso is your mystery man from last weekend (part 2). finding out this news has you turning to an unexpected friend for advice. if this if this is going to work between you two, you need to set some rules. but everyone knows that rules are meant to be broken.
wordcount: 4.9k words
full fic c/w: choso smut, choso/fem!reader, choso/oc, modern!au, some plot, plot what plot, porn with plot, gentleman!choso, soft!choso, praise kink, blindfold sex, oral, fingering, vaginal sex, enemies to lovers, fingering, oral, multiple orgasms
a/n: this chapter is mostly meant to build plot, but it has has a lil banter and fairly mild spice and then some! enjoy! let me know if you want to be added to the tag list for this!
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✩✧✾✧✩ 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT ✩✧✾✧✩
Choso’s words hang in the air as you try to collect your thoughts. Hello my little vixen, I didn’t expect to see you again so soon.
You try to respond but the words struggle to leave your mouth. All you can focus on are his dark brown eyes gazing into your soul as if trying to unlock the cage guarding your heart. One moment longer, and you’re terrified he might find the key.
The elevator dings, signaling the lobby.
Before you can even react, Choso releases his hold with casual ease and steps beyond the doors. It’s as if the past few seconds hadn’t completely shifted your entire world.
You follow his lead, lagging shortly behind. “I have so many questions,” you say, trying to keep your voice low in hopes no one would hear you. “But I think it’s probably best if we didn’t talk about it here.”
The lift in his brow is followed by a confident smirk. “Hmm, I guess dinner is on after all?” 
His charm has you wrapped around his finger and you both know it. “I guess you’re right,” you mutter. 
“So quick to agree this time. What happened to not mixing business and pleasure?” he teases.
You roll your eyes, but you can’t resist the small smile that tugs at your lips. “I think we crossed that line a long time ago.”
“Crossed? More like blew right through it
” he jokes, hoping you’d catch his drift. “which felt exceptionally good, I might add. I’ll have to return the favor one of these days.”
You lightly nudge him away, jaw dropping in disbelief. Generally speaking, you’d like to think you’re fairly quick witted, but something tells you that you’ve met your match.
Choso lets out a chuckle— it’s sincere, but just like him it remains effortlessly poised. You’re starting to envy his ability to navigate the tension without breaking a sweat.
“So where do you want to meet for dinner tonight?” you ask.
“I’ll pick you up,” His voice is smooth, almost like he's already settled the matter in his mind.
You arch your brow with a hint of suspicion, “That didn’t really answer my question.”
He stops to brace your shoulders. “Do you trust me?” The look in his eyes makes it hard to say no.
He could either be a serial killer or a completely normal guy who just wants to take you to dinner. Given your existing history, you decide to take your chances. “Fine. But if this backfires, I’m getting appetizers, an entrĂ©e, and dessert.”
His confident grin returns. “Oh, I count on it. Let’s say 7?” 
You look down at your phone to check the clock. Hmm, that should be enough time. You nod in agreement and decide to exchange numbers before going your separate ways.
When you get to your car, you feel your phone buzz. Your heart skips a beat when you see the notification across the screen.
Choso: Get home safe, I’ll see you later.
The butterflies in your stomach start to build, but you try not to relish in the moment for two long. While you appreciate the kind farewell, you have other plans—and none of them involve going home.
You’ve found yourself tangled in a mess of your own making, and the only person who can help you now is the one who led you here in the first place. You make a call and wait as it rings on the other end.
When he picks up, you exhale a deep sigh. “Satoru, I need your help. I have
a situation. I’ll be there in 10.”
✩✧✾✧✩
Instead of going home, you find yourself heading to Blinded Bliss to see Satoru. While he’s technically your manager, the two of you have always operated more like friends. And you need advice—desperately.
You push open the door to Satoru’s office without knocking, immediately regretting it.
“Oh my god, seriously?” you groan, covering your face.
You find him tangled up with one of the club’s bouncers in a position that makes you wish you had bleach for your eyes. Lucky for you, you’re friendly with this one too. 
“Hey Suguru didn’t expect to see you here,” you say, your gaze still shifted away.
Suguru chuckles, pulling back slightly. “Someone doesn’t know how to knock.”
You slowly peek between your fingers to see if the coast is clear. “Sorry to interrupt, but did Satoru not tell you I was coming?”
Suguru lifts himself off before making his way to the door. “He had you on speaker, we just lost track of time,” he turns back to Satoru, giving him one final kiss before heading out. “I think this is my sign to leave.”
As Suguru steps out of the office, Satoru casually zips up his slacks like nothing had happened. “This better be good—you don’t even work Mondays. What are you doing here?” 
“Remember, my client from last weekend?” you say, stepping inside despite the awkwardness. “He’s a manager from the company we acquired
 which means we now work together. Unfortunately that also means he’ll most likely be the one taking my promotion.” You shut your eyes tight to help relieve the stress.
Satoru leans back in his chair, rolling his eyes as if this was everyday news. “C’mon! I asked for something good!”
The vibrato in his voice brings your focus back.
He continues, “Surprising, sure—but everyone has their guilty pleasures and secrets to hide, even the corporate drones.” Satoru sighs in disappointment. “While I can’t give you work advice, I don’t think you have to worry about him spilling your secret to get ahead. If that’s all, I’m gonna call Suguru back—”
Before he can finish his thought, you add, “And I have a date with him 
tonight.”
Satoru whistles low. “Wow.” 
“Yeah, wow,” you agree.
The silence sits between you both while Satoru tries to think, fingers tapping thoughtfully against his chin.
After what feels like a lifetime, he finally speaks, “And this is something you want to do?” His voice is slightly tinged with concern.
You bring your hand to your temple before nodding—trying to sound certain. “Honestly, yeah.” You let out a deep sigh and seat yourself onto the chair in front of his desk.
He cocks an eyebrow, studying you carefully. "This is new for you. I’ve seen you do repeats, take regulars, but only ever inside these walls. Dating in the outside world is a bit
 intimate for you, no?”
“I mean, yeah. But
I don’t know what it is. Something keeps pulling me into him, and I don’t know how to stop it.”
Satoru lets out a low, thoughtful hum before speaking. His voice is softer now, “Hmm. “What it is”, is attraction. And that "something” is emotion. No one says you have to stop it.”
You hesitate, a sudden flicker of doubt crossing your face. “But then it gets messy... and complicated.”
His gaze sharpens, and he walks toward you, stopping just in front of where you stand. He softly tilts your head up towards him. "If you know what you want, then set some boundaries. I know you—despite the damsel in distress act you put on in those rooms, we both know you’re a strong woman who gets what she wants."
A small, rueful smile tugs at the corner of your lips, but you look away, ashamed to say what will come out next. “I mean, sure, but what am I going to do about this place? Do I just stop working? Unlike my other job, I actually like it here.”
Satoru raises an eyebrow, clearly amused. He braces your shoulders to comfort you—a move Choso did not long ago. His eyes are determined when he looks at you and says, “Slow down. First and foremost, if you want to keep taking clients, don’t let anyone stop you from doing so. Itïżœïżœïżœs your body, and you can choose what you want to do with it. You can take clients for ten thousand dollars, ten dollars, or zero dollars.”
You exhale and speak, but Satoru doesn't give you a chance to respond, his voice still measured. “But if you don’t want to take clients, it makes no difference to me. Hell, you could just use the room for you and twirly tops for all I care. You and I both know that we don’t do it for the money at this point—although it is a great perk.”
“You have a point there.” Before you can fully process Satoru’s words, you find your brows furrowing when you remember an unexpected phrase. “Wait, did you just call Choso twirly tops ?”
Satoru chuckles, “Yeah, you know, because of the...” He trails off, his hand making an exaggerated motion to outline the ties in Choso’s hair.
You can’t help but laugh. A smile spreads across your face, and you find yourself feeling lighter, even if just for a moment. "I can always count on you—thanks, Satoru."
Satoru waves you off, grinning. "You're welcome! You know I’m always here for you wherever you need it.” He starts to head to his chair before pausing. “
But we both know this would have easily been a phone call. So why did you really come here?"
You glance at the floor for a moment, shifting uncomfortably before lifting your gaze to meet his. “I was wondering if
 I could get some clothes from The Vault?”
A mischievous look sweeps across his face. "Absolutely, you don’t even have to ask." He pauses, opening a drawer to hand you a set of keys. "But let me just say—if this guy has you eyeing The Vault
” His grin morphs into something almost wicked as he steps closer and lowers his voice, “
You. Are. Fucked.”
You laugh, but a nagging feeling in the back of your mind tells you that Satoru might be right.
As you two make your way over to The Vault, your mind begins to wonder if this is the right move. You take a deep breath and instinctively tap the space between your thumb and pointer finger to soothe your anxious thoughts. Remember, you try to tell yourself, no matter what path you’ve chosen, the stars will always align for you.
Before you know it, you’ve reached another set of platinum double doors.
Satoru dubs The Vault as his secret “supply room” (cough, sex shop) tucked away in Blinded Bliss. It’s a treasure trove filled with outfits, costumes, lingerie, toys and any sex related thing your heart desires. Typically this room is only reserved for long standing regulars to shop at before their appointments, but Satoru will always make an exception for you. 
When you step inside, Satoru follows, already rifling through the racks.
“Do you have anything here that says ‘I’m interested but not desperate?” You ask.
Satoru pulls a black leather form fitting dress from the rack. Absolutely not. It’s beautiful and very sexy, but a little too sexy for a casual Monday dinner.
“Immediate pass, Satoru! It’s just one meal, not a masterclass in submission !” 
“Oh sorry, let me just go over here to the Sexy Sunday Service aisle,” he teases, rolling his eyes.
You laugh, but he actually directs you to a set of more modest outfits. “Oh you’re serious.”
Both of you are sifting through the items before Satoru pulls out another one. “How about this one?” he asks, showcasing a corduroy mini dress that’s easy enough to dress down, yet fitted enough to perfectly accentuate your curves.
“You know, this is actually perfect. Thanks!”
He brings you in for a hug, and the security of his embrace relaxes you. “No problem, baby girl. Kill it tonight, I expect a full debrief on Friday.”
You slightly pull away, “Right, Friday
” your tone is filled with uncertainty.
Satoru gives you a reassuring look before bringing you back in. “If you come in 
of course, no pressure.”
After locking up The Vault, Satoru walks you to your car. You fight the initial urge to check your phone to see if you’ve gotten any additional messages from Choso. When you plug your phone into the car wire, you’re disappointed to see that none are there.
You make it back home with an hour to spare and use the remaining time to freshen up and get ready. At 6:45pm, you see your phone illuminate on the bathroom counter with two new messages. Your body can’t help but be giddy at the sight.
Choso: leaving now
Choso: be there in 15
You’re all done up with 5 minutes left, and catch a final glimpse of your reflection in the hallway mirror. Your outfit hugs you in all the right places and your makeup is effortlessly on point—but still, it feels like too much .
“It’s just dinner,” you mutter to yourself, pacing back toward your room. “Why am I trying so hard?”
The urge to change into something simpler tugs at you, but before you can make a move, the sound of your ringtone fills the hallway. You glance at the screen: Choso.
You answer on the second ring. “Hello?”
“Just wanted to let you know I’m downstairs,” he says smoothly, his voice laced with that casual confidence you’re starting to recognize. “No rush though, I’m a little early. Sorry.”
Your heart skips a beat, and you give yourself a quick once-over in the mirror. Go hard or go home I guess. “Be right down,” you reply, grabbing your bag before heading out.
When you step outside, you see Choso leaning against the side of his car. When you make your way over to him, you say, “Didn’t expect you to be here so soon. Looks like someone couldn’t wait to see me.”
Your mere presence triggers a primal instinct that he can’t control. Without warning, Choso grabs you by the waist, his hand slowly trailing downward. When his fingers graze the skin near the hem of your dress, you feel a tightness building in your core.
He pulls you into him until you’re pressed against his firm chest and your leg meets the bulge growing in his pants. “Oops
guess I’m not the only one who can’t wait.”
“Very funny,” you reply. Before you pull away, your gaze locks into him. You want to stay in this moment just a little bit longer. When your eyes trail down to his lips, you find your thoughts running off to the dirtiest part of your mind. You don’t stop it though. Instead you let it consume you until you’re inches away from tasting him.
You stop your momentum just short of a kiss to see if Choso will take the bait. To your surprise he challenges every muscle in his body to show restraint. Such a gentleman.
You smile, rewarding him the only way you know how.
It feels like eternity until your lips finally meet, but when they do they crash together like endless tides being pulled by a full moon.
“Seems you couldn’t wait either,” he murmurs against your lips, his voice thick with amusement as he pulls away slightly, his forehead resting against yours.
You shift your gaze away, slightly embarrassed by the wave of passion that took over you.
He places his hand against your cheek to guide your focus back to him. “Shall we go to dinner?”
You smile and nod before he opens up the passenger door and gestures to get inside. “Your chariot awaits.”
You slide into the seat, the faint scent of leather and his cologne mixing in the air. As he gets in and starts the engine, he casts a quick glance your way. “You look great, by the way,” he mentions.
“Thanks,” you reply, smoothing the fabric of your outfit. “I was a little worried I might be overdressed.”
He smirks, his eyes briefly darting toward you. “Oh trust me you are overdressed,” he starts, placing his hand firmly across your thigh. You feel the goosebumps sweep across your skin. “I’d rather see you in nothing at all.”
Your mouth falls open slightly as you turn to him, “You are quite the comedian aren’t you?”
“I prefer to call it charming,” he quips, shooting you a grin. “You don’t like it?”
You shake your head with a soft laugh. “On the contrary, I think I like it 
maybe a little too much.”
“Hate to say I told you so,” he replies smoothly, remembering his words from Friday night.
The 15 minute drive goes fairly quick, but confusion begins to set in when you see Choso slow down into a residential area. Your stomach twists when he parks in front of an apartment building, killing the engine.
“Where are we?” you ask.
“Dinner,” he says simply, nodding toward the building.
He invited you to his apartment for dinner? As the thought crosses your mind, all you can hear is Satoru’s voice ringing through your head: if you know what you want, then set some boundaries.
You take a deep breath and turn to face Choso, your brows furrowed in thought. “Listen, Choso, I hope you don’t get the wrong idea when I say this, but if we’re trying to keep things from getting messy, we need boundaries,” you begin, your voice steady despite the nerves bubbling beneath. “As much as I would love to repeat Friday, I think apartments should be off-limits. It’s too—”
Before you can finish, Choso grabs your hand to keep you from spiraling. His grip is gentle but firm, grounding you instantly. “While I am flattered that you also have an interest in continuing where we left off, I am offended that you think I just brought you here to fuck you.” The humor in his voice pulls you back to center.
Heat rises to your face as you look away, flustered.
Choso keeps his focus set on you before continuing. “Listen to me when I say that I will respect your boundaries. But since I’m new here, I haven’t tried many restaurants yet. I didn’t want to fuck up my first shot by bringing you to a shitty place so I brought you somewhere I knew would be good.”
His sincerity catches you off guard, and your heart skips a beat. You blink, momentarily stunned, before managing to reply, “That’s
 so sweet of you. I appreciate that.”
Choso’s smirk grows into a genuine smile as he releases your hand. “Now if your mind is at ease,” he says, gesturing towards the door, “we’re one lobby, and 25 floors away from a delicious meal and a conversation full of answers. Will you please accept this offer of entering my apartment, just this once?”
You hesitate for a moment, but the earnestness in his voice makes it hard to say no.
“Fine,” you concede, shaking your head lightly, “just this once.”
✩✧✾✧✩
When you get off the elevator on the 25th floor, the smell of something rich and savory fills the hallway. The scent grows stronger as you get closer to his apartment. After he opens the door and gestures to you inside, you notice two plates set with silverware on the dining table across the room.
“It smells amazing, you cook?” you ask, as you’re taking off your boots by the door.
“Don’t sound so surprised,” Choso quips back, heading toward the kitchen. “Did you think I brought you here just to order take out?”
You follow his lead. “No
 but I mean, you kind of strike me as the bland chicken and broccoli type.”
“Well, we both should know by now that looks can be deceiving,” he says, turning on the oven to heat up the food. He pulls out a bottle of wine from a shelf. “Care for a drink while we wait?”
After you give him a nod, he tells you to make yourself comfortable. You settle into a cozy spot on the couch and he joins you shortly after, handing you a glass of red.
Without hesitation, he jumps straight into it. “We both have questions, but please—ladies first.”
You take a sip before setting your glass down on the side table. “Ok, for starters
 What brings a guy like you to a place like Blindness Bliss? You seem like you’re perfectly capable of getting anyone you’d like without having to pay for it.”
Choso pauses to collect his thoughts. “My friend Kento actually referred me there. He mentioned that he visits from time to time when he’s in town. Kento knew I had just come off of a tough week before moving here and he suggested I try it out to blow off some steam. I initially resisted, but he kept insisting and finally told me that he paid for the night. At that point I had to go.”
Kento? Never heard of him. I’ll have to ask Satoru about him one day, you think to yourself.
Choso shifts closer to you, his arm draping over your shoulder in a casual, confident movement. He puts his glass down and leans in just a little—his voice dropping to a quieter, more intimate tone. “...but seeing how things have turned out, I have no regrets.”
He slowly moves to kiss you between your neck and shoulder. “And I’d do it again.”
His kisses drift closer to your lips before you’re face to face. “...and again.”
“...and again.”
You feel the heat immediately rise to your cheeks. You can’t decide if it’s the alcohol or the feeling of his lips against your skin. Before he can reach your mouth, your finger presses against his lips to give him pause. “I believe it’s your turn to ask a question.”
Choso pulls back smiling, accepting your challenge. “Well, I could ask the same for you. Why the second shift? We both have the same position at work, which means I can assume that you don’t do it for the cash.”
You give yourself the space to think. “Well, you are right about that. It may have started out that way, but I guess I just kept doing it because I liked the way it made me feel. I spend so much time trying to prove myself at Zenin Tech, especially reporting to Naoya. It’s like I always need to keep hustling otherwise I’ll never make progress or get anywhere.” You sink into your seat and release a deep sigh. “It’s exhausting.”
Choso listens with undivided attention, absorbing every word without interruption or question.
You slowly pick yourself back up, directing your attention back to him. “But when I’m at Blinded Bliss, it’s the complete opposite. Over there I don’t need to claw my way to the top or earn respect, I already have it. I know it sounds crazy, but it’s true. I don’t know how he does it, but Satoru makes it easy for us. He truly only lets in the best of the best. So consider yourself lucky.”
Choso perks back up. “Satoru?” he asks before the realization sets in. “Ahh, yes. The guy who—”
“Oh no, wait
 please don’t worry about him,” you interject quickly, holding your hands up in defense. “That thing that we did, it’s all just for show. There’s nothing between us. It’s just part of the gig, I swear.”
Choso stops your movements, his palm gently pressing against your cheek.“Hey, it’s okay—no need to get your defenses up. It's your body— what you do with it and who you choose to do it with is all up to you.”
Your jaw hangs open—savoring every last word that just left his mouth.
The moment your eyes meet, everything else in the room fades away. You feel the tension grow heavy between you while the electricity from his touch draws you both closer. 
You’re close—maybe a little too close, maybe not close enough.
Once again you’re face to face but this time all you can think about is how he makes your heart race without even trying.
Before Choso leans in, he gives you one last look—it’s a look of passion and desire. It’s a look that aims to claim you the first chance he gets. He stares intently into your eyes before he whispers, “But just so you’re aware, if there’s ever another opportunity for me to be one of those people, just know I will always say yes.”
The moment stands still.
Every inch between you feels like an eternity, and you want to do everything in your power to change that.
Within moments, it finally hits. Your hands slip to the back of his neck as you crash your lips into his, planting open mouthed kisses and claiming every part of his tongue. He follows your lead, his movements are urgent and unrelenting—as if he’s been keeping himself restrained for far too long.
Without a second thought, your hands find their way to his chest, gripping the fabric of his shirt to deepen the kiss. He uses the momentum to climb on top of you until his frame pins you against the cushions, back arching to feel the warmth of his body consume you.
As he moves his mouth down the side of your neck, you take the moment to continue your thoughts—still giving in to the heat of the moment. “This brings us... to a great point." Your breath becomes slightly labored. "I meant what I said earlier... about boundaries.” Every kiss he plants on you makes it harder to speak.
Choso breaks in between kisses to say, “Yes, boundaries. I’m listening.” He slips one strap off your shoulder and pulls the neckline down just far enough to expose your breast.
“We keep our work lives and personal lives separate.” A breathy moan escapes you when his lips reach your nipple.
“Agreed,” his replies are brief but affirmative. All he can focus on is tasting every last bit of you.
The way his hands graze down your side are too distracting. To get out your remaining thoughts, you push yourselves back up completely, narrowing your eyes slightly to make your point clear. “I take back what I said earlier today about us being enemies, but that doesn’t mean I am going to back down and let Naoya hand you this promotion on a silver platter. So everything in that office is strictly professional —got it?”
He pauses for a moment, as if he’s etching every word you said into his brain. He replies with a nod to confirm. “Professional. Loud and clear. Anything else?”
“I’ve already let this slide once, but after tonight—no apartments. It’s too intimate, and we need to keep this clean.” Or as clean as it can be.
Now you’ve piqued his interest. Choso tilts his head in confusion, but doesn’t let that stop his hand from trailing towards your waist. “Hmm you have a fair point
 but if apartments are off limits and the office is strictly professional, any suggestions for a neutral zone?”
Before you answer, you let his touch guide you—bringing you on top of him until you’re straddling his waist. You pull yourself towards him before you whisper, “Let’s just say I know of a place with platinum doors, that’s private enough for us to feel alone, and equipped with everything we’ll need to have a good time.”
You grind yourself into him but this time you set the pace. It’s slow—excruciatingly slow for Choso, but deliciously playful for you. “I’m currently taking offers for regulars
well, just one.”
His hands find your ass and grips you tightly, allowing his bulge to press against your clit. “Keep talking.”
You let out a quiet moan when he slips his hand underneath your dress. “...and if I like them enough it’ll be free of charge.”
For a moment, you pause—remembering his offer from earlier. “but if I recall, you did mention something about returning a favor.”
Choso returns your comment with a wicked smile before hooking his fingers into your panties, “I did say that, didn’t I?”
He finds his way to your center, teasing you with the wetness that pooled below. His fingers graze against your folds, wiping up the mess you made between your legs and you can’t help your breath as it begins to falter.
“F-fuck, Cho—” you manage to get out.
Choso wraps his arms firmly around you and sets you back down on the couch. He sets himself up to pull down your panties, alternating kisses between your inner thighs.
You feel a rush of desire dripping from your folds. "The last time you had your mouth around me, you made me feel so good.” he whispers. “Can’t wait until I get my mouth on your wet little pussy and make you feel the same.”
His breath, his touch—it drives you wild. Why does being here feel so wrong, but being with him feels so right?
As he slowly moves closer and closer to your core every nerve in your body lights up—

Until you hear a jarring noise pierce through the room.
Beep. beep. beep. The sound of the oven timer blares from the kitchen, snapping you back to reality.
Choso pauses—looking back up at you until he processes what’s happening. When it finally clicks, he gives you a quick kiss to your clit before securing your panties back in place.
No, please—stay, your dirty mind begs.
Choso smoothly picks himself up, leaving you dumbfounded when he acts like the last few minutes never happened.
He extends his hand to help you up, but you can still see a glint of fire in his eyes. His tone is playful when he cocks his brow and says, “Well, I guess we need dinner before we get to dessert.”
--
taglist: @jud3thedude @makingtimemine @chosslut @liiiacke @trishiepo0 @celestialforce
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0bticeo · 8 months ago
Text
j. sims, e. bouchard | knowledge is a double-edged sword
part two of four. (part one.) (part 3.) (part four.)
summary:
a low hum. there’s something sharp in elias' smile. his gaze feels like it’s cutting you open. you hold your ground, unblinking, watching him and his annoyingly handsome face. 
“you’re wearing a mask, dear.”
“aren’t we all?”
wc. 3k
tw. reader's creeping paranoia, shockinlgy nothing smutty happens in this chapter, manipulation, graphic description of eyes, mild ptsd, nightmares, elias bouchard being a creep.
working in the archives has always been
 a little off, for a lack of a better word. you are supposed to research and archive statements regarding “supernatural happenings” in a world where said supernatural has been swiped under the carpet, dismissed with a haughty scoff. still, it pays well. which is why you find yourself clocking in day after day. 
your colleagues
 you don’t know what to make of them. not really. sasha’s been
 off. you think there’s a void in the shape of her roaming about the place. she’s calm and focused. formal. has trouble logging in her computer - that’s
 not right.
martin seems to be taking it well enough for someone who’s spent the past two months sleeping in the archives and then getting attacked by worms. sounds silly. definitely wasn’t. you think there’s much, much more to him than meets the eye and and accept the cups of coffee he hands you with a warm smile. you mean them. you like martin. his poetry a bit less. 
tim
 is silent. he’s lost his smile. you haven’t fallen victim to one of his pranks in ages and fear you won’t ever have to worry about a sketchy statement being one of his little jokes. you feel anger bubbling inside of him at the mere mention of having to work in the archives. yet

yet he’s helping you. 
the library is a quiet affair, the muted sort of silence that hangs like a comforting blanket over your shoulders. dust flutters away in the air, drawn by your steps. tim’s sigh cuts through the silence like a knife.
“why are we doing this again?”
you tuck back a book in its shelf. thankfully, not a leitner. still, nothing to do with architecture.
“because it is our job, tim.”
he scoffs.
“yeah, right. i wasn’t aware it involved risking my life.”
“look, you’re not forced to help me. if it makes you feel better to slack off, then i’m not stopping you.”
he laughs, mocking, almost cruel. the pressure at the back of your neck is near unbearable. you want to scream. you want to tear something apart.
“look at you! acting like everything’s normal! three months ago, you were bleeding out on my lap! how can you-”
“it’s either i focus on something else or i go mad.” you snap a book shut with a sharp intake of air. “you won’t like me mad, tim. now shut up and help me find robert smirke’s books, will you? i’m pretty sure they were there, but-”
his hand clasps around your wrist. 
“hold on. why are you looking for smirke’s books?”
“follow up on a statement involving urbex in the former church of saint james in west hackney. built by, you guessed it, robert smirke himself.”
you watch a flash of
 something in his eyes. it looks like guilt in mourning, and you’re itching to pry, pry him open and unearth whatever secrets he keeps buried under a thick layer of good humour turned bitter. 
“it should be around here.”
you end up with three heavy volumes in hand, none of which feel like they’ll help with erin gallagher-nelson’s statement. then, something catches your attention. a small leather volume, tucked away behind the books you’re currently holding. tim’s already on his way out, much to your chagrin. you don’t feel too guilty when you reach for the small little book and tuck away those he’s helped you find, neatly ordered in their rightful place.
the little book in your hand is
 not a leitner, which is a relief as you are not wearing gloves. no, it’s bound leather, with no title in sight. you open it, carefully, cradling it against your breast like something fragile, and cast your gaze upon its first page. the juts out in ink far too dark for its age.
the fears that bind us.
turn another page and see the summary. fourteen entries, neatly labelled. the Web. the Dark. the Spiral. the Buried. you pause.
the pinprick pain at your neck sharpens. you’re Watched. there’s nobody but you in the library, but there’s something, watching, always watching, and you can make eyes in the corners of the shelves and they’re peering down at you and they Know you’re starting to suspect something’s terribly wrong with this place and-
thud.
the book falls from your trembling hands. dust rises up, clings to the hem of your trousers. you stare at the dull, unassuming little leather cover and feel its magnetic pull. you Know there’s more to it than it lets on. you pick it up.
(somewhere, the chittering mass of the many-legged mother of puppets spins a chain of events into motion, weaving a pretty plan.)
*
these days, stepping in the institute feels like being strapped down to a vivisection table and having your brain prodded at. it’s oppressive. you become aware of just how many eyes there are in the institute. coworkers from other departments glancing disinterestedly at you. strange motives in the nooks and crannies of the wooden doors and shelves and corridors and floors, eyes half-lidded. pictures and their faded edges, you, tim, martin, jon and sasha (?) huddling close, smiling. portraits - jonah magnus, high and mighty, immortalised in his seat of power. you think his painted lips are curled up a little more than they normally are. you’ve seen that floating smile before.
you take to having your lunch outside of the institute. you find you can breathe easier through the sharp cold of london’s winter air. needle-sharp, it pierces your lungs, scrapes your throat with every mouthful of curry you swallow. you don’t mind. you have jon to huddle close to, no matter how much he rolls his eyes and tells you to take a warmer coat with you. still, he wraps his arm around you and intertwine his fingers with yours.
tim and martin make no comment - you do feel the weight of their gaze on your shoulders as you make your way back to your desk ten minutes sharp after jon comes back to his office. doesn’t matter. by now, you’re used to being watched.
you’re growing tired of it.
going home is no relief - that damned gaze is there, too. you clench your teeth and turn all the mirrors around and tuck away what little pictures you have. your breathing stutters in your throat. there’s a cork board on your wall, now, and you think of the one that lies in jon’s office, red strings stretching and stretching and it still doesn’t make sense. not yet. 
gertrude’s dead - somebody’s murdered her, three bullets, bang, the body falls, bang, bang just to make sure the old bat is dead, a waste of an Archivist. 
jon wants to know who. he tells you, fingers threading through his hair, tape recorder still running, that it could be anyone at that’s been working at the institute since five years. you’ve been hired two years ago, so you’re good, but tim? martin? sasha? elias?
(you’ve pressed your lips to jon’s and sworn to help him, forehead pressed against him in the sweetest oath.)
there are scraps of hastily jotted down notes, pictures faded at the edges. recurring people from statements - gerry keay, michael shelley, simon fairchild, prentiss, salesa. hilltop road. recurring themes, artefacts you took pain to research, asking sasha for help - she did work in artefact storage before, right?
(her smile was sharp when she nodded. too sharp. she laughed as she led you to the basement floor, something like a deadly private joke. you didn’t ask for her help again.)
you take a step back and stare at the board. the strings make no sense, red over red over red, and you have an eye staring back at you, unblinking, thread burned in your retina. 
smirke’s book lies open on your couch. your cat wisely stays away from it. you’ve named him socrates for a reason. you wish you could be blessed with the sage’s foresight.
fears bind you. there’s a classification, Entities that sometimes bleed in the corners of this world, out-of-sight-but-there. you’ll only notice when they strike. when they show themselves, when you realise there’s something terribly wrong with the stranger’s edges peering out of an alleyway, anglerfish luring its prey. poor smoker’s fate. 
a classification. fourteen primal fears straight out of the lovecraftian mythos. the stranger. the Spiral - think of michael, smile curling endlessly in all his sharp edges, laugh like an alarm bell ringing long after he’s gone. the Corruption - jane prentiss and her loving smile and worms burrowing in her flesh and in yours. 
the Eye.
you take in a sharp intake of air and read. 
IT KNOWS YOU.
*
you cannot move. you’re crushed by the sheer magnitude of the structure spreading around you in concentric circles of power. panopticon. he who stands in the centre watches and knows all. is there anyone at all in its centre?
you. you’re kneeling, skin bare and bruised and scraped, the stone harsh and unforgiving, scraping the tender skin of your knee. humidity seeps in through the open pores of your skin. 
you can’t see. it’s too dark, the penumbra stretching and stretching for miles, near corporeal with how thick it is. you think it might be reaching out for your eyes with too long fingers, chipped claws sinking below your eyelid to rip them off. 
you startle.
eyes.
so many eyes, staring at you from the darkness encasing you, with no eyelids so they do not blink. there’s the dreadful suspicion that their optic nerves join, mingle into something you do not want to see. ocular globes, little gelatinous spheres surrounding you, Watching you, Knowing you. you, on your bloody knees, heart stammering under your ribcage like a chased rabbit, your bare flesh cold, cold, cold. 
it’s cutting you open, scalpel gazes making careful, careful incisions in the marrow of your psyche. they’re carving open your head, your skull a neat, organic little box housing the grey matter of your brain. cerebrospinal fluid drips down your cheeks.
you shudder. you can feel them, Watching, Knowing, the mere thought of it a burning streak in your consciousness, they’re picking you apart, they Know what you’ve done, how you break-
you only start screaming when you look up and See.
you startle awake with a shuddering gasp, trembling so badly you can’t even make out the familiarity of your bedroom. breathe in. the darkness isn’t cloying, the street lights worming their way beneath your shutters. breathe out. you can hear the cars running, the nocturnal hustle and bustle of london’s night life. the chatter, the laughter. 
you let out a trembling sigh and run your hand over your face. you find it damp with sweat and tears. a beat of silence. you rest your forehead on your palms, hands gliding down until the heel of your palm is over your socket and you push there until you feel the bone, the gelatinous fragility of your eye. it is not the first time you have these dreams. you wish you could sleep.
you trace the edges of your temples, those you know were left gaping, those you know had been wrenched open- closed. no scar. only those on your thighs, on your forearms, on your hands from these wretched worms.
you close your fingers, nails digging in your bandaged palm and feel a pinprick of pain. the other side of the bed is cold and empty. you glance at the analog clock on your bedside table. the time blares, angry red flashing 5:32 in your retina. three hours left before going to work. 
you get up from the bed and set about changing your sweat-soaked sheets. you’re not going to fall back asleep. might as well get ready for work. you do, body set in autopilot. breakfast. shower. lather hydrating cream over the expanse of you. disinfect the many, many patches of scarred tissues left by the flesh-hive. get dressed - black tailored pants, cream crispy ironed shirt. a spritz of perfume. white flats. a quick glance in the mirror - there you are, the epitome of professional perfection, little miss trust-me-i-have-everything-under-control. 
you don’t.
you’re tired. so, so very tired. exhaustion settles like a heavy weight in your bone marrow, anchors you down until your whole world is clouded. foggy. you don’t remember the last time you’ve pushed the door to the archives without a thin veil clouding your eyes. 
you think of the Narrator, unnamed, bone-deep tired, staring emptily in the camera in a film you can’t say the name of. first rule: you do not talk about it. second rule: you do not, talk about it. everything’s a copy of a copy of a copy.
as it goes, you push the door to the archives, step inside the quiet room, shrug off your coat at your designated desk, and go about making yourself some coffee. nobody’s there to plot your bloody murder as you blankly explain that, to you, tea is nothing but bland leaf juice. not that tim or martin would bother these days.
it’s quiet. nobody’s here to see you climb the stairs to the break room on the second floor. the one used by the human resources department. lucky bastards. bastards, period. refusing to hand over the necessary funds to buy another coffee machine for the archives after the first one broke during prentiss’ infestation. and they say their mission is to foster a safe work environment. such a shame your morning murderous urges are only quelled by your second cup of the day.
you grab a mug and press the button. whirring rises in the dry silence of the room. slowly, slowly, the mug is filled up. you inhale and feel your shoulders relax by half a fraction. the heavenly scent of grounded coffee beans percolating feels the room and you find yourself smiling. it doesn’t ease the fogginess clouding your mind. it will do.
large window panes offer a wide overview of the streets below, the early morning fog clinging to humid asphalt, the rare cars passing by. you let out a slow exhale, your breath clouding the window.
your mug is ready.
“is that one for me?”
you startle.
elias bouchard stands behind you, hands clasped behind his back, picture perfect manager in a crisp suit - too stiff, too out of place in his employee’s break room. he’s wearing a phthalo green suit, the one that brings out the green-grey of his eyes. your favourite. and he’s waiting for your answer, you realise after an embarrassingly long amount of time.
there are two mugs in front of you. you blink.
“oh. oh, yes.”
you hand him the first mug and reach for your own. he thanks you with a floating smile and takes a sip. a low hum. 
“so you do have taste.”
you blink.
he’s reclining on a table, watching you. you and your impeccably ironed shirt, cradling your mug like one would something precious. you and the bags under your eyes, so dark they might be embedded in the preciously thin skin below your eyelids.
you snort. 
“just because i have a massive sweet tooth doesn’t mean i’d put sugar in coffee. i’m french, not a complete barbarian.”
you earn a quiet chuckle. something like satisfaction purrs inside of you - you made him laugh, the sound low and rich and deep.
“one might argue that you are, in the literal sense of the term, a barbarian.”
“one might argue that the etymological definition of a barbarian doesn’t apply to me, as i speak your language.”
you watch him, from over the steaming rim of your mug. something like
 elation flashes in his eyes. the thrill of debate, maybe.
“do you, now?”
you tilt your head to the side, eyes narrowing by a fraction as you assess him. the perfect curl of his lips in that damning razor sharp half-smile. the relaxed slope of his shoulders. the soft stillness of his long, gloved fingers on the table. the glint in his green-grey eyes, daring you to take the bait.
you do, crossing your legs at the ankles, leaning back against the window.
“at first glance, yes.” you point an accusatory finger towards him. “but you, monsieur bouchard, don’t like sticking to first glances and faux-semblants, you’re sharper than that.”
a low hum. there’s something sharp in his smile. his gaze feels like it’s cutting you open. you hold your ground, unblinking, watching him and his annoyingly handsome face. 
“you’re wearing a mask, dear.”
“aren’t we all?”
he shakes his head.
“it’s convenient, isn’t it? not to have to bear the weight of your mother tongue.”
your shoulders tense. there’s that pinprick pressure at the back of your neck, standing poised and sharp against your vertebrae. he’s watching you, needle-gaze pinning you like a butterfly to a wall. 
“it’s a pain. english and french bleed into one another too much and it messes up my syntax.”
“you’re deflecting.”
“wasn’t your question rhetorical?”
silence. it feels like a loss. one beat, two beat, unsteady, hammering wildly like your heart, beneath layers of flesh and fabric, all perfectly controlled thank you very much.
he’s before you before you know it, close, close enough for you to smell his cologne - something sharp and cold with a faint hint of ink. you raise your eyes and meet his gaze. you think there’s a faint glow to it, irises flashing green for the briefest moments. 
“you’re hard to pin down, my dear.”
you can feel the heat of him, creeping closer and closer as he leans down ever so slightly, one gloved finger curling under your chin, tilting your head up, up, up until the angle makes you wince.
“coming from you, i’ll take that as a compliment.”
a low hum. the building pressure at your nape has you clenching your teeth. then, finally, he lets go, apparently satisfied with whatever it is he’s found in you.
“thank you for the coffee. it has been most
 insightful.”
with that, he leaves, and you stand alone in the break room, coffee mug now cold. even without the unbearable weight of his gaze on you, you feel watched. the only thing remaining in the room with you is the portrait of jonah magnus, peering down at you with storm-grey eyes. somehow, it feels familiar.
you want to scream. you gulp down your coffee and leave an empty mug behind.
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staarb0y · 6 months ago
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can you write a smut enemies to lovers with nick and make reader? like nick was readers bully in middle school and then they get almost all the classes that are the same in high school
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Apology
Pairings: Nick Sturniolo x male reader
Warnings: Praise
Summary: Nick wants to apologize for how he treated you during your middle school years. You go to his house after school and he makes you feel better.
Word count: 2,940
a/n: I go to school in canada so middle school is grades 7-9 and high school is grades 10-12 and you have 4 periods a day. Also I hope you want a part 2 because you're getting one!
a/n 2: It wouldn't let me put Freak by Lana Del Rey but thats the fucking song I wanted so go listen!
When you walked into your first period english class and saw Nick Sturniolo sitting in one of the seats you instantly wanted to leave and not come back. He had bullied you all through your middle school years and made your life hell. When you realized the only empty seat left in the class was right next to him you felt even worse. You sat down not even acknowledging him, expecting to have something thrown at you, yelled at you, etc, but nothing. The teacher walked in and the class started, he was going over what your first assignment for the week would be when a note landed on your desk. A little crumpled up sticky note. You look up and see Nick staring at you. When he sees you looking back at him he immediately puts his head down. Weird behaviour coming from him you think to yourself. You open up the crumpled up sticky note and see his messy handwriting. 'Looking good today y/n ;)'
You grab your pen off your desk and write back 'thanks asshole.' You crumple it back up and throw it back onto his desk where it originated.
You knew you got hotter over the summer. You started working out, cleared up your skin, started eating better, and it showed. You got a new haircut that suited your face better and you started dressing how you wanted to. Today you were wearing a plain hoodie and jeans, along with some adidas sneakers. The hoodie was slightly small on you, so when you lifted your arms it showed off your waist.
When the bell rang signalling you to your 2nd period class, you got up and started navigating through the busy hallways. You're almost at your 2nd period when you feel a hand on your shoulder. You turn around and Nick's facing you. "I wasn't joking with what I said y/n, you look really hot." Is he serious? "Thanks I guess... but why the fuck are you talking to me. You've treated me like shit the past 3 years." He looks at you with guilt, "I know, thats why I wanna talk to you after school. Would you walk home with me?" What the fuck. What changed, why's he acting like this. "Let me think about it." You turn around and walk away into the crowds of people in the hallway.
You sit down in your 2nd period art class and when you think you're gonna get a break from Nick he sits down at the other end of the table from you. "You're persistent," you say. He looks at you, "look I just wanna talk," he says.
You spend the rest of your day trudging through 3rd and 4th period trying to ignore Nick, who keeps following you to your classes. With your luck, he somehow manages to have the exact same schedule as you. As you look up at the clock for the 100th time in last period the bell rings. 'Fucking finally' you think to yourself as you get up and head to your locker. You get your stuff and walk out of the school ready to finally go home. As you start the walk home you hear Nicks voice behind you.
"Hey y/n, can I walk with you now?" You forgot that Nick would be walking home with you. "Sure," you say. He catches up to you and walks next to you. "Y/n, I'm really sorry for how I treated you the last couple years. Over the summer I realized that I just felt bad about myself and I took it out on you and I'm sorry. I like you." What. I mean you always thought Nick was kinda hot even though he was shitty to you. You just weren't expecting this coming from him. "I wanna get to know you better, maybe I can try to fix how I've treated you in the past. Do you wanna come to mine? My parents aren't home and my brothers are gonna be at their friends." "Sure, how far's your house" "Just a few minutes from here."
As you walk with Nick you wonder if you're making the right decision. He's been a total dick to you for the past 3 years and now he wants to be friends with you. You arrive at his house and walk in, taking off your shoes as he closes the door behind you. "Come on," he says, leading you upstairs to his bedroom. You walk into the room and sit down on his bed. It's really comfy and his whole room kind of just has a comforting vibe to it. He sits down next to you on the bed. "I'm really sorry y/n, I wish I could go back in time and stop myself. I hope this helps make up for it." He grabs your face and brings his lips to yours, kissing you softly. He pulls away, "was that ok?" You answer him by pulling him back in and kissing him deep. Your arms wrap around his neck and your fingers are tangled in his hair as he slips his tongue into your mouth. You deepen the kiss, whimpering into Nicks mouth as he tongue fucks you. You slowly pull away panting when Nick pushes you onto his bed, laying you down. You look up and see Nick undoing your belt, and then pulling down your jeans.
If you wanna suck me off so bad can we atleast get into a more comfortable position. He turns red in the face, "yeah of course." You kick your jeans off your ankles, left in just your boxers. You pull your hoodie off over your head revealing your defined figure. You climb further onto his bed and under his covers, now lying under his multiple cozy blankets. He climbs in next to you and scoots down, lying fully covered by his blankets. Just his head is visible in between your thighs as he kisses the growing bulge in your boxers. He grabs your waistband and pulls down your boxers, taking them completely off and chucking them onto his floor next to your jeans.
"Fuck you're big y/n." He grabs your dick and starts to tongue at your tip, tracing wet circles on it. He takes your dick into his mouth, getting about halfway down before he goes back up and sucks on your tip. "Mmh fuck Nick. Fuck your door has a lock right?" He pulls off your dick, jerking you off to make up for the loss of the warmth of his mouth. Slick noises fill the room as he moves his hand up and down your length. "Yeah it does, and no one's gonna be home for hours anyway so don't worry about it. Just let me make you feel good ok?" That he is. He puts his mouth back on your dick, bobbing up and down quickly as his hand does the rest of the work at your base. "Oh fuck Nick your mouth feels incredible please don't stop!" He goes faster with his mouth, making your tip start to feel a little sensitive. His hand starts to move a little easier with his spit lubing it up. You feel your precum start to drip into his mouth. He does too, wanting to suck every last drop of it out of you. He milks your dick for more, sucking hard and lapping his tongue up and down your length in sync with his head. He moans around your dick, vibrations adding to the pleasure as his lips tighten. He feels more of your precum drip onto his tounge, swallowing the salty consistency. "Nick fuck," you groan out as his free hand cups your balls, fingers grazing your taint. You whimper and pant as you feel your orgasm coming on, "mh Nick I think I'm gonna cum." He pushes his head down your length, trying to take you to the base. He does but not without gagging a bit, your dick getting swallowed by the back of his throat. His nose is hitting your pubic bone as you shoot your cum down his throat. He sucks you through your orgasm, mouth remaining all the way down your dick as he sucks softly. He does this until you go soft in his mouth, he pulls off and looks up at you.
"You want a turn?" You ask, slightly out of breath. "Fuck yeah," he says, looking at you excited. You quickly switch positions, you now laying in between his thighs. You pull down the slutty grey sweatpants he was wearing, "No underwear, really?" He smiles as you pull the sweatpants down far enough for you to access his dick. You grab his already hard dick and start to jerk him off, making him let out soft pants and whimpers. You lick his tip as you keep jerking him off, quickening the pace on his dick. "Y/n fuck you're good at this" he says in between pants as you keep licking his tip. You tongue at his slit making him let out a loud whimper. You wrap your lips around his length and slowly sink down, taking him inch by inch. "Ah fuck good job you feel so good." You wrap your tongue around his length and suck, salivating all over his dick. You feel yourself blush from the praise he was giving you. You pull your lips up to his tip and then down quickly, starting to bob your head on him. You start to grind your hips into the mattress below you, whimpering softly around his dick. "Good boy y/n," you make him moan as you suck him, quickening the pace of your head on his dick. You grab his balls with one of your hands as you continue to suck him, fingers brushing against his taint. You use your other hand to jerk him off at the base, making up for the last 2 inches out of his 6 that you couldn't quite take into your mouth. "Mm fuck y/n such a good boy for me keep going." You feel yourself blush some more as you continue, starting to taste his bitter precum in your mouth. You grind into the bed as you suck harder trying to pump more out of him, bobbing your head a little lower every time you come back down, trying to reach his base. You feel his hands in your hair as he suddenly holds your head firmly in place, thrusting into your mouth. You moan around him as he pulls out to his tip and thrusts all the way back in, pubes hitting your nose as you take him all the way. You grind harder into his bed, dick twitching while you suck him. He keeps fucking up into your mouth, holding you in place. You grip onto his thighs as more precum spills into your mouth. You swallow it down quickly begging for more. He rests his hips down on the bed and controls your head instead, letting your head do the work while he trys not to cum too quick. He has a firm hold on your hair as he pulls you up before quickly pushing you back down to the base of his dick. Your spit is dripping down his balls to his taint as he fucks your mouth. You can feel him deep in your throat as moans spill out of his mouth. He continues using your head as a toy, cursing under his breath as he moans out your name. You tighten your mouth around him, and he moans out loud, "fuck, just like that please don't stop y/n please." You keep your mouth tight around him as he controls your head, dick throbbing in your mouth. He fucks up into you a few more times before he cums hard into your throat. "Fuck y/n mmh," moans are falling out of his mouth uncontrollably as he rides out his high, gripping your hair tight as he uses your mouth. "Fuck y/n that was so good, your mouth is so good." You keep sucking him, slowing down and sucking softly on him as he goes limp in your mouth. He pulls out of your mouth slowly, a strand of saliva connecting his tip to your tongue.
You pull up those grey sweatpants he had on, climbing on top of him still naked. You pull him into a kiss, tongue sliding into his mouth. He moans into you as he can taste himself on your tongue. Your spit slides into his mouth as he grabs your ass, groping you. He begins to fight back with his tongue, ultimately winning when his tongue is exploring your mouth. His arms wrap around your neck, holding you in place. Your laying on him naked when his tongue slides deeper into your mouth. You start to suck lightly on it, making him whimper into your mouth. You swallow the mix of spit in your mouth, moaning as he continues to explore your mouth with his tongue. You melt into him as you make out, one of his hands reaching back down to your ass to grope you. You swear his tongue has touched every part of your mouth by the time you slowly pull away.
You climb off him, grabbing your boxers off his floor and sliding them onto your thighs and up past your aching dick. "You want some of my sweatpants?" He asks. You nod and he grabs you some out of his dresser, handing them to you. You slide them on and now you're matching with him, both wearing grey. "Come here," he says. You walk over to his bed, he's sitting on the edge of it, legs open. You walk up to him and he places his hands on your waist, pulling you on top of him and onto the bed. "Cuddle with me y/n" he speaks softly into your chest. You obey his request as he lays up against one of the pillows on his bed, you resting your head on his stomach. "Is it ok if I sleep over Nick?" You ask, looking up at him. "Yeah of course, but my parents can't know ok? If they come upstairs hide under my bed." "Okay," you say, resting your head back onto his stomach. You reach for your phone, grabbing it and texting your mom.
Is it cool if I hangout with my friend tonight?
Yeah that's okay. Are you sleeping over there?
Yes
Ok
You put your phone down on his bed and close your eyes as your head rests on his stomach. "I'm sorry for everything I've done to hurt you y/n. I hope I made up for it a bit just now," Nick says softly. "It's a start," you mumble. He plays with your hair as you fall asleep.
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reputationmunson · 2 years ago
Text
Crossing Lines | s.h x fem!reader
part one | part two | part three | part four | part five
series summary: steve isn’t your biggest fan, so why does he ask you to be his date to a wedding? | enemies to lovers, fake dating
chapter summary: your first date with Steve! and more :)
content: fluff, secret relationship, kissing, steve feeling insecure, mentions of eddie having a crush on reader, reader wears steve’s shirt, reader and steve being so in love it hurts, swearing, she/her pronouns, pet names, use of y/n, barely proofread
word count: 4.5k
a/n: IT’S FINALLY HERE! thank you for all being so patient with me and i hope the wait was worth it. (i also made steve softer than originally intended but i couldn’t help myself). also this is not the final chapter!!
thank you to @strwbrrydaydreams for listening to me talk about this chapter and for all of your kind words. i appreciate you so much ❀
_
You had a date with Steve tonight. A date. With Steve Harrington. 
The same guy who, not so long ago, acted like just you existing was to spite him, the same guy who acted like being in the same room with you was pure torture, and the same guy who groaned after every time you spoke. 
He wasn’t that guy anymore, though. You hoped, at least. 
Steve kissed you silly two nights ago. He slept in your bed, nothing nefarious, just two people who no longer hate each other sharing body heat and kisses under covers. Then when he left for work the next morning, he pressed a soft, barely there, kiss to your temple.
He called you that night and asked you on a date. Due to the fact that you were keeping whatever was going between you two from your friends, you decided on a night in at your place. 
Just because you were staying in didn’t mean you weren’t going to put in any effort. You spent the whole day cleaning your apartment until it looked good enough to be in a magazine. You spent an embarrassing amount of time on your makeup until it was perfect. You even went out and got a new dress. It wasn’t anything fancy, just a simple sundress, but you thought it made you look pretty and you hoped Steve thought the same thing. 
You had candles lit, popcorn for the movie popped, and a bottle of wine ready to be poured in case things were awkward. 
There’s no way it won’t be a little weird going from barely being able to stand each other to
dating? You weren’t even sure what to call it. You knew you and Steve had to talk about it. You liked Steve, a lot, but there was also a bit of hesitation. He was so mean to you and he gave you a little explanation as to why the night of the wedding, but it was still confusing. 
Would he be hesitant too? Would he freeze at your touch? Would he still be cold towards you?
Or would he be the sweet Steve you used to know? 
You check the clock hanging on your wall and realize you don’t have time to worry about this as Steve would be here any minute. 
Your leg bounces anxiously as you hear footsteps approaching your door, followed by a knock. You take a deep breath, unlocking and opening your front door. Your nerves disappear when you see Steve. He looks so handsome, something you can really appreciate now. He has his hands behind his back, like he’s hiding something. 
“Hi” you quirk your brow “whatchya got there?” 
“You’re gonna think I’m so lame” he cringes. “I already do. Did you get me a present?” you grin. 
Steve chuckles at your excitement and moves his arms from behind his back to reveal a bouquet of your favorite flowers. 
“Steve” you whisper and your face softens. “How’d you know my favorite flowers?” 
“You told Robin one time and I guess I never forgot” he tells you and hopes you don’t make fun of him for remembering a mundane detail, but knowing you, you definitely will. 
“Wow” you breath out “you are so obsessed with me, aren’t you?” you joke and he playfully rolls his eyes. “Hey, you’re the one that got a new dress today” he teases. “How’d you know it’s a new dress? See, obsessed!” you counter and he throws his hands up in defense as a way to say “alright you got me. I might be obsessed”. 
“Are you going to invite me in or just let me stand out here while you bully me?” He cocks his head to the side and you pretend to ponder over your answer. “I guess you can come in since you got me flowers”
Steve follows you inside and into your kitchen. You rummage through your cupboards trying to find a makeshift vase for your flowers while Steve admires you. He wonders how soon he’s allowed to kiss you. Does he wait until the end of the night? Or can he steal kisses throughout the entire date? All he’s been thinking about for the past two days is kissing you. He’s not sure he can wait much longer. 
“Hey” he whispers, gently grabbing your hand and pulling you closer to him. “You look really pretty” he says and his hand cups your cheek. You lean into his touch, partially to try and convince yourself that this is real .“this is sorta weird” you mutter and his brows furrow. “Weird?” he questions. 
“Not like a bad weird, just different. I’m not used to you saying stuff like that” you confess “Oh, sorry. You look so bad tonight. Truly horrendous” he jokes and you stick your tongue out at him. “Meanie” 
“Let me make it up to you” he says, stepping closer so your bodies are pressed together. His lips brush over yours, but he doesn’t kiss you yet. 
“So pretty” he mutters against your lips. Your hand cups the back of his neck as you decide you can’t wait much longer and press your lips to his. 
As you kiss Steve, you realize there’s no point of return. There’s no world in which you could go back to hating him, or even just being his friend, after you know what it feels to be kissed by him. 
A simple kiss has never made you so weak in the knees before or made you feel like you had a zoo of butterflies in your stomach. 
The hand not on your cheek moves to rest on your lower back, keeping you as close as possible to him. You can’t help but smile, totally messing up the kiss. “Sorry” you chuckle and he rests his forehead on yours. “It’s okay. I’d smile if I was kissing me, too” 
“Oh my god” you groan before chuckling. “You’re insufferable, Steve” you kid, no malice in your tone.
“So insufferable” he jokingly agrees. “Do you wanna watch a movie now?” he asks, nodding in the direction of the living room. “yeah, um, but, is it okay if we talk first?” you nervously ask. “Yeah, sure. You’re not breaking this off already, are you?” he jokes and you shake your head. “No it isn’t like that. C’mon, let's sit.” you grab his hand and lead him to sit on the couch. 
“So,” you start and fiddle with the hem of your dress “I wanted to talk about us, I guess. I mean, not that long ago I swore you hated my guts and now you’re bringing me flowers and kissing me in the kitchen. I think it’s just making my head spin, ya know?” 
“Yeah, I understand. When I was buying flowers for you I kept thinking ‘this chick used to drive me crazy and now I’m picking out flowers and can’t stop thinking about kissing her’ and don’t get me wrong you still drive me crazy, but just a tiny bit less now that I get to kiss you.” he responds and grabs your hand that nervously fiddles with your dress. “Do you want this? Us, I mean.” he asks. 
“Of course I do. It’s just-ugh- I’m scared because what if we move too fast? or what if you have this image in your head of me and I turn out not to be that and you go back to how you used to treat me? And like I said before it’s a little weird, right? To kiss and hold hands? I just get scared that I’m gonna reach out to touch you and you’re gonna pull away.” 
“Yes, it does feel a little weird, but we’ll take this as slow as you want to, okay? I wanna be the guy you deserve. I know I can be an ass, but I’m gonna treat you the way I always should’ve treated you.” he promises, bringing your hand to his lips and pressing a soft kiss to your skin. 
“You really can be cheesy, you know that?” you tease. “Baby, you don’t know the half of it.”
“Baby” you repeat, your voice soft and sweet. “I’ve called you baby before” he states. “Yeah, but when we were fake dating. I know that you mean it now and it’s nice.”
“I’m sorry” he says and you look at him puzzled. “For?” you ask. “How I used to be” he clarifies. 
“Steve, you’ve already apologized. It’s okay” you assure him. “I know I have, but it doesn’t feel like that’s enough. I wish I could change it. Go back in time and smack myself upside the head.” 
“Oh, I’d love to do that too. Smack you, I mean. Not me, I’m perfect. But, we can’t change the past, so let’s focus on the future. Starting with watching a movie because this popcorn is probably cold and stale now.” 
Steve quickly pops a movie in, some cheesy horror that you’ll both make fun of. He lays behind you on the couch, his arm wrapped around your waist. It feels nice. Better than nice. You fit together perfectly like two puzzle pieces. 
As you watch the movie, he occasionally peppers kisses along your jawline or your shoulder. Sometimes you turn your head to give him a proper kiss on the lips, which turns into a brief makeout session before turning your attention back to the movie. ‘Slow, Harrington. Take it slow’ Steve thinks to himself. 
Steve knows that he loves you. He thinks he’s loved you since he met you. He doesn’t think you’re there yet, though. Hell, he hasn’t even asked you to officially be his girlfriend. How much longer should he wait to ask you that? He doesn’t want to ask too soon, but he’s also not sure how much longer he can hold it in. 
If he can’t tell you he loves you, he’ll definitely show you. He’ll buy you all the flowers in Hawkins, he’ll hold you and kiss you until you shove him off you, he’ll do anything to show you and make up for the past. 
_
You and Steve are fast asleep when there’s a knock at your door. By the second frantic knock, Steve stirs, but thinks it was maybe just part of his dream until there’s a third knock followed by a voice that’s too familiar. “y/n! Open the door!” Robin exclaims. 
Steve shakes you a little to wake you up. “y/n, wake up! Robin’s here!” he whisper yells. “That’s not funny” you mumble, still half asleep. 
“Hello! I know you’re home!” Robin yells and your eyes widen before you jump off the couch. 
“Fuck! What is she doing here?” you ask, frantically blowing out the candles you lit for a ‘romantic ambiance’. 
“I don’t know! It’s your apartment! Did she tell you she was coming over?” he asks, still whispering. “No, it’s Robin. She always comes over unannounced.” You quietly move to the kitchen, dumping out the popcorn and hiding the flowers in a cabinet. “Quick, go hide in my room. In the closet” you tell him. 
“Why in the closet? Why can’t I just sit on your bed until she leaves?”
“No arguing! Closet, Steve” 
He doesn’t argue any further, he quickly and quietly goes to your bedroom and squishes himself into the tiny closet. 
You gather yourself before opening the door to see a frantic Robin on the other side. 
“Hey, Robs. What’s up?” you try to sound casual. “I’m so bored, y/n, ugh and today sucked so bad! Work was awful and I dropped my burrito on the ground and- why are you wearing a dress?” 
“Oh, um, I just bought this, so I’m trying it on. Do you like it?” you ask, hoping she doesn’t ask anymore questions. “You look great, duh, but why is your makeup still on, it's like ten at night?”
“Just testing out some new makeup, ya know. I had zero plans tonight so I figured, why not?” you lie, but she seems convinced. “Makes sense, I guess. Since you’re free, do you wanna have a sleepover?”
“Oh, I don’t know-” “pleasepleaseplease” she begs like a toddler and it’s clear she won’t be leaving any time soon. “yeah, okay. Tell ya what, go wait out and my car and we’ll get some snacks. I’m gonna change.” you say, tossing her your keys. “Yay! Don’t take too long!” she says and walks outside. You lock the door behind her just in case and quickly go to your bedroom. 
“Is she gone?” Steve asks when he walks out of your closet. “um, sort of. She’s waiting in my car because we’re having a sleepover, so you’ll have to leave like ten minutes after I do. I’m so sorry” you apologize and rest your forehead on his shoulder, letting out a sigh. 
“It’s okay. Trust me, I know how Robin is” he chuckles and starts to rub your back. 
“I had fun tonight. Even if it got cut short.” you tell him and he beams. “Me too.” 
“Alright, turn around. I gotta get changed.”
“I can’t watch?” he jokes and you lightly shove his chest. “Face the wall, Harrington”
You change as fast as you can into a pair of sweats and a t-shirt then give Steve the go-ahead to turn around. 
“How do you still look so good? Don’t think I can let you leave now” He says, sauntering over to you. “You’re gonna have to. Unless you want robin to break down the door and find us making out.” 
“Hm, very true. How about just one kiss then?” 
“Okay, but then I really have to go.” you say and he pouts, but quickly pecks your lips. Then he pecks them again and again. 
“Steve” kiss “I really” kiss “gotta go” kiss
You like this side of Steve and love how sweet on you he is. It makes everything worth it. 
“Alright, get outta here. I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?” he promises and you plant one last kiss on his cheek before leaving. 
You hope Robin doesn’t notice how flustered you are. 
_
Although part of you wished you were still with Steve, it was nice to spend time with Robin. 
You hated that you couldn’t tell her about this. She’s your best friend and you tell her practically everything. Guilt eats away at you thinking about sneaking around with Steve behind her back, but she would absolutely blow a gasket if she found out. 
“You okay?” she wonders, snapping you out of your thoughts. “Yeah, I'm fine. Just a little tired” you lie, giving her a half-assed smile. 
“Can I ask you something kinda weird?” she asks and you worry she might already know. “Don’t you always?” you respond and both of you chuckle. 
“Have you seen Steve since you came back from the wedding?” she asks and you stiffen for a second, but quickly act natural. “No, I haven’t. One weekend was enough for me. Why?”
“He called me one day while you guys were there,” she starts and you wait for her to continue “and it just seemed like maybe you guys were starting to become friends” 
“What did he say when you guys talked?” 
“Basically that spending a weekend with you wasn’t the worst time of his life. He said you were funny and that his family loved you. Especially a little girl named Peneople. He really admired how great you were with her and please don’t tell him I said this he would kill me, but he thought it was cute, too, which drove him nuts.” she laughs
“He said that?” you hold back a smile, but you can’t stop the feeling in your chest. Like your heart just might explode. “Weird, right? I mean, coming from him. I really thought you’d guys come back and at least be acquaintances.” she sighs. 
“Nope. Definitely didn’t come back as friends” you say, which technically isn’t a lie. You didn’t come back as friends, you’re more than just that. “Anyways, I’m exhausted, Robs. Wanna go to bed?” 
After tonight, you really had no reason to be hesitant with Steve. You were all in. 
_ 
It had been a week since you saw Steve. A long, dreadful week. You missed him, which is something you never thought you’d say, and you still had to poke fun at him for telling Robin that he thought you were cute. 
You barely even got to talk on the phone with him. With conflicting work schedules and late-night shifts, it was difficult to find the time. 
Luckily, you’d be seeing him tonight, but unluckily, all of your friends would be there. You love them dearly, you really do, but you just want alone time with Steve and you hate that you have to act like you don’t want to be curled up next to him all night. 
You would be able to have a little alone time with him, though. He told you everyone would be there around nine, so you said you’d be there at eight in hopes to make up for lost time over the past week. 
_
Your excitement got the best of you, causing you to show up at 7:30 instead and you hoped Steve wouldn’t mind. 
Little did you know, Steve was counting down the seconds until he got to see you. He practically sprints to the door when you ring the doorbell, almost slipping in the hallway. 
“Hi” he greets you with a big smile on his face. “Hi, Stevie. Sorry I’m a little early.” 
“Oh, yeah, I hate that I have to spend more time with my girl”
My girl. He says it so naturally you can’t help but smile and feel all giddy inside. “You’re such a goof.” you say before leaning in to give him a kiss to say how much you missed him. 
Both of you melt into the kiss and you feel the weight of missing him lift off of your shoulders. His arms wrap around you and he pulls you inside without breaking the kiss. ‘Impressive’ you think to yourself. 
Your hands find a place in his hair, threading through the soft, brown locks. His hands grip your hips, occasionally squeezing your sides. You feel warm all over from his touch and his affection. You’re half tempted to tell him to call everyone and cancel. 
He kisses you until you can’t breathe, which is more appealing than it sounds. You’d kiss him till your lungs give out. 
“Mm, I missed you” he says when he breaks the kiss, pulling you in for a hug. “I missed you too, cheeseball” you reply and he snorts. “Cheeseball? What the hell does that mean?” 
“Cause you’re cheesy. Cheesy Stevie” 
“Please don’t let that become a thing” he whines. “Maybe it will. Maybe it won’t.” you say, nuzzling your face into his shirt. He smells like body wash and laundry detergent and his shirt is so soft you definitely need to come up with a plan on how you’re going to steal it. 
“um, so, I was wondering if maybe you wanted to spend the night tonight? You could come back after everyone leaves or something.” 
“I didn’t bring any overnight stuff.” 
“You live, like, ten minutes away, babe. Grab your stuff and come back.” 
“You must really want me here, huh?” you tease. “Yeah. I hate sleeping without a blanket stealer” he teases back. “I am not a blanket stealer.” you defend yourself and he laughs. “So is that a yes?” 
“I suppose it is. Consider yourself lucky” 
“yeah, yeah, I know. You’re the best and I worship the ground you walk on, blah, blah, blah.” He sounds like he’s being sarcastic, but he means every word. 
“As much as I enjoy this, we’ve been standing here hugging for like ten minutes. Can we snuggle on the couch now?” 
“You read my mind, pretty girl.”
_
Steve hated that he couldn’t kiss you, or touch you, or tell you how cute you look every time your nose scrunches when you laugh. He especially hated how close Eddie was sitting next to you. His forearm touching your thigh was driving Steve crazy. It doesn’t take a genius to see that Eddie has a tiny crush on you. He tries to hide his annoyance, but he isn’t doing a very good job. 
His jaw is clenched as he gives Eddie a death stare. Eddie is oblivious to it, though, thankfully. You? Not so much. You can tell Steve is annoyed and you want so badly to assure him he’s the only one you want.
Eddie’s crush was harmless, it could barely even be considered a crush. You knew that and so did Steve, but he still let his insecurity get the best of him. He was never mean to you, he’d never treat you the way Steve did. Should you be with him instead?
As Eddie tells a story, he theatrically moves his arms around and in the process, he accidentally spills his coca-cola on you, causing you to gasp. 
“Oh, shit, I’m so sorry, y/n” he apologizes, looking at you with puppy dog eyes. 
“Jesus christ, munson” Steve groans and stands up from his seat. “It’s okay, Eds, it was an accident” you smile and assure him it’s okay. 
“C’mon, I’ll get you a shirt” Steve says and you follow him to his room. Everyone is momentarily confused at how fast Steve jumped to your rescue, sharing confused glances at each other. They quickly brush it off, not thinking too much into it. 
“You okay?” Steve asks once you’re in his bedroom. “It was coke, Steve, not battery acid. I’m fine” you giggle. “Are you okay?” you ask when you see the unamused look on his face. 
“Yep” he responds in an irritated tone. “Steve, don’t do that. If we want this to work you gotta talk to me.” you rest your hand on his upper arm, giving it a light squeeze. 
“I love Eddie, I do, but I can’t stand how much he likes you. I don’t like seeing him all over you when I can’t do anything about it.” he confesses. 
“Steve” you sigh “thank you for telling me, but I don’t think Eddie likes me as much as you think he does. Yeah, we used to be a thing for like five minutes, but that was so long ago and it doesn’t even matter. I want you and only you.”
“But he’s so nice to you. He always has been and it makes me think you deserve to be with someone who’s always treated you that way, ya know?” 
You step closer to Steve, grabbing his hand and running your thumb over his knuckles. “Steve, please stop beating yourself up about that. I swear I forgive you, okay? Call me crazy, but I’d go through it all again just to be where we are right now” you promise, pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek. 
“And you call me the cheeseball” he playfully scoffs. “I’m sorry for being weird. It’ll probably happen again” he says and you giggle. “I know it will. Now can you get me a shirt? I feel sticky.” you whine. 
“Here” he says, handing you a t-shirt with a faded basketball teams’ name on the front. “Thank you. Now get back out there before they get suspicious” you tell him and he nods in agreement. “I love them, but I can’t wait for them to leave” he says with a sigh before leaving his bedroom. You couldn’t agree more. 
“What took you so long?” Robin asks once Steve returns. “Couldn’t find a shirt up to her standards. You know how she is.” he replies briefly. 
You come back out moments later and Steve can’t wait to tell you how good you look in his shirt. 
_
After the longest hour of your life, everyone eventually went home. You rushed back as quickly as you could from picking up some things at your place and you hoped that no one decided to come back once you got to his place and question your reasoning for being there. 
Steve left the door unlocked for you, so you entered without knocking and find him cleaning up the mess left behind by the neanderthals (Eddie and Robin to be specific). 
“Hi, handsome. Need any help?” you ask when you walk into the kitchen. “No, I’m pretty much done. You can go get in bed if you want and I’ll be in soon”
“I gotta do my skincare routine, then I’ll be ready for bed” 
“Skincare routine? What do you gotta do for that?” he asks out of curiosity. “C’mon, I’ll show you.” 
Once you’re in the bathroom, you pull out all of your necessities out of your bag and Steve carefully examines each of them. 
“Do you wanna do it with me?” you offer. “Only if you do it for me” 
You pull a scrunchie out of your bag and pull Steve’s hair out of his face. “What do you think?” he asks, referring to his new hairstyle. “You’ll be starting a new trend in no time” you kiss the tip of his nose and he hums in appreciation. 
You take him through each step of your routine, carefully massage the products across his face. 
“Mm, feels nice” he lets out a relieved sigh. “And you do this everyday? No wonder you’re so happy all the time.” 
“Yeah, that’s why” you snort. Sure, it’s relaxing and brings you peace, but the real reason you’re so happy is sitting in front of with half of his hair in a ponytail being pampered by his own personal facialist. “All done. You look pretty good if I do say so myself” 
“I feel like a million bucks, honey. Can we go to bed now?”
“Mhm, let’s go. I’m exhausted” you reply and quickly gather up your products, putting them back in your bag. 
Steve dramatically flops on his bed, opening his arms as an invitation to join him. You accept his invitation immediately. 
Your head rests on his chest and one of his arm wraps around you. The sound of his heartbeat soothes you, you’d like to think that it’s beating a little fast because of you. 
He whispers your name and you hum in response, half asleep. “Are you awake?” he asks and starts to rub your back up and down with his hand. 
“Barely. What are you thinking about?’’ 
“I know we talked about taking things slow, but if I’m being honest, I’m dying to ask you to be my girlfriend and you can say no, but-”
“yes” you interrupt. “What?” he asks, unsure if he heard you correctly. 
“Yes, I’ll be your girlfriend, dork.” you clarify, then press a kiss to the column of his throat. 
“I call you baby and you call me dork. How is that fair?”
 “Get used to it. I’m your girlfriend now”
_
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