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#but it's okay when it's beating out something you think is weird?
gracies-baby · 3 days
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Wisdom Teeth
(Gracie Abrams x Reader)
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"Mmm, you're so pretty. Are you single?" Gracie slurs as she looks at her girlfriend with a dazed look while her mother laughs beside her.
"No, I'm taken" Y/n replies with an apologetic smile as she rubs her girlfriend's palm with her thumb.
"By who? I'll fight them" Gracie mumbles as tears begin to form in her eyes.
"No, you don't need to fight them. How about we go home and you can have a nap?" Y/n takes her girlfriend's hand and guides her to the car being followed by Gracie's mother.
"I'm sure your girlfriend wouldn't mind if we did a little something" Gracie smirks with dazed eyes.
"You think so? I'm sure she would love it actually. But she's a bit high right now so I'm thinking she should go to sleep" Gracie's mother giggles from the drivers seat before she begins to drive to her house.
"Where is she? She wouldn't beat me up would she? Cause I feel a bit out of it right now. I don't think I could take her" Gracie slurs before she feels something in her mouth.
"Oh no! My mouths bleeding!" Gracie mumbles with panic in her eyes as she takes her hand away from her mouth, seeing the blood.
"It's okay. That's what the gauze is for, silly" Y/n replies before gently kissing her girlfriend's hand.
"Did your girlfriend do this? Because I was flirting with you?" Gracie whispers as if anyone else was around.
"Baby no, you're my girlfriend. I was just messing with you. And whatever that was, I don't think it was flirting" Y/n teasing as she rubs her girlfriend's palm.
"Wait.. you're my girlfriend? How'd I manage to pull you?" Gracie mumbles in disbelief before gasping.
"If I'm your girlfriend, then we can have sex! Without cheating!" Y/n sighs out of exhaustion.
"Gracie, your mom is in the car. And I told you, we're not doing anything until you're better" Y/n scolds before realising the car has stopped outside her girlfriend's house.
"Don't worry, I've definitely heard worse from you two. You really need to learn to be quieter" Katie says as she helps her daughter out of the car as Y/n blushes a bright red.
"See? We've got my mom's approval. Now let's go" Gracie smirks as she takes her girlfriend's hand, leading her to her bedroom.
"The only place you're going is to bed for a nap. Then I'll think about it" Y/n replies as she helps the brunette into bed before climbing under the covers next to her, leaning her head on the brunettes shoulder.
"Are you comfy yet?" Y/n asks only to receive no response causing her to look up and find her girlfriend asleep, snoring lightly. Y/n allows a soft smile to appear on her face before she snuggles closer to the brunette, falling asleep as well.
When Gracie wakes a few hours later, she looks down and sees her girlfriend still sleeping with her head on her chest. The brunette smiles gently before carefully getting out of bed as to not wake her girlfriend.
"You're finally awake. Have a nice nap?" Henry teases when he sees his sister walk out of her room. Gracie gives him the middle finger in response as she walks into the kitchen to make some tea for Y/n and herself.
"I'm meant to be taking care of you" Y/n complains in her tired voice when she comes behind her girlfriend.
"You've done enough. Go sit down, the teas nearly ready" Gracie replies, messing up her words because of her surgery.
"Will it hurt if I kiss you?" Y/n asks as she gets closer to her girlfriend, beginning to lean up to her lips.
"Who cares about that part?" Gracie replies, pulling Y/n in for a kiss only to pull away a second later.
"Yeah, maybe not just yet" Gracie says as she holds her mouth in pain, going to sit on the couch next to her mom and brother while her girlfriend finishes making the tea.
"So, did I do anything weird after the surgery?" Gracie asks nervously as she takes a sip of her tea, watching as Y/n and Katie share a look.
"Well, you asked if I was single and then you threatened to fight my girlfriend when I said no" Y/n replies as she giggles, watching as embarrassment appears of the brunettes face.
"And then you asked if we could have sex. When your mother was in the car" Gracie whines and hides her face in her hands as her girlfriend speaks.
"What is wrong with you?!" Henry exclaims with a laugh as he listens to the story.
"Shut up! You're too scared to even get your wisdom teeth out!" Gracie glares at her brother.
"You literally asked if your girlfriend would have sex with you when mom was less than a foot away. You're way more embarrassing than I am" Henry replies as he walks to his room, Gracie glaring at his back.
"Don't worry, you didn't do anything else. I thought it was cute" Y/n says as she rubs the brunettes neck to comfort her.
"You always think I'm cute" Gracie replies with a smirk.
"You are always cute. But this was especially cute"       Y/n replies as she presses a kiss to her girlfriend's forehead.
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biracy · 1 year
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"Bullying the sick degenerate freaks is what keeps society functioning" do you people hear yourselves. Do you ever get tired of this
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dirt-str1der · 1 year
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Hehe
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messylustt · 10 months
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can i plllllleeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaase have a bubbly reader offering miguel a hug (as a joke bc hes grumpy) and he says no at first but later on when hes rlly upset abt whatever he puts his pride in his pocket and asks for one??? i know tht man is touchstarved a good hug might fix him
wait shut up. this is adorable :((
A HUG? — miguel o’hara + reader: everyone knows that your bubbly nature offers everyone hugs. but no one expected miguel to accept one.
marks fluff. that’s literally it. maybe a bit of angst. wc 1.5k.
pt one. pt two. pt three.
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“and why are you so grumpy?” you slid across the bench, as miguel sat, minding his own business and eating. he doesn’t spare you a glance as you just rested your hands on your elbows, tilting your head with a smile.
“what is she doing?” gwen asks, from her farther seat, next to hobie, pavitr, miles, and (occasionally) peter. they are all staring at you and your bubbly nature.
“ah, let her figure out how antisocial he is.” peter shrugs, adjusting mayday’s spider beanie.
“i think she already knows.” miles says.
“that’s probably why she’s over there. to “cheer” him up.” pav adds.
“good luck with tha’” hobie lightly chuckles, resting back against pav as he swings his legs up, watching what he’d call a “show”.
“you look like you could use a friend.” you say, finally making miguel look at you. his expression was the definition of ‘indifferent’. your smile didn’t fall. “or maybe an acquaintance you can talk to?”
miguel’s expression doesn’t shift. you nod. “imma have you figured out soon…i promise.” your eyes slightly narrow in an inspection of him. then he turns back to his food.
“it’s going well.” pav sarcastically comments back at their table, making hobie scoff.
“you know…” you say, fingers lightly tapping the table. “there’s things that can help with being moody.”
“i’m not moody.”
“ah huh!” you softly cheer. “you spoke. progress.”
miguel looks exasperated as he shuts his eyes. He just wanted to enjoy his empanada.
“but you wanna know what will help?”
“i’m not…moody.” he repeats a little slower, to make sure you heard.
“yeah you are. but it’s okay. cause you wanna know what will help?”
“you clearly want to tell me.” miguel breathes out.
“mhm.” you smile. “a hug.”
miguel shifts his gaze to you, blinking a few times.
from the farther table, the spider gang is still thoroughly invested. “oh shit, he looks annoyed.” miles comments.
“what do think she said?” gwen asks, resting against the table.
“tha’ he looks like a wannabe gangster.” hobie says, now rocking his leg slightly back and forth as he watches.
“a hug would help. it helps me.” you are saying, still staring at miguel, smiling.
miguel clicks his jaw, before he’s standing, muttering to himself.
“let me know!” You call to his leaving form with a chuckle.
;;
later that night miguel is pacing his office, just back from a mission that went terribly. The anomaly got away. and miguel is beating himself up inside. how could he let that happen?
you’re walking down HQ’s hallway, looking for something you had dropped. as you scanned the floor, you hear muttering that reminded you of earlier today. miguel.
you stopped by his slightly cracked open office door. you carefully knock. miguel swings it open, sighing upon seeing you. “now’s not a good time.”
you smile. “don’t worry. i just want to ask if you’ve seen a pen.”
“a pen?” miguel’s brows furrow.
“mhm. i lost it.” you reply. “you look stressed.”
“i’m not—“ he takes a deep breath. “i'm fine. and no I haven’t seen your pen.”
“no worries.” you begin to back away. “let me know if you see it though. it’s got a weird blue design on it.”
miguel’s mind is whirring for some reason, as he finds himself calling for you to stop and turn back around. “did you mean it?” he muttered it so quietly that you almost missed it.
you’re now walking back, eyeing him. “mean what?”
miguel’s tongue pokes out against his cheek, feeling his entire body drenched with exhaust and self pity. and putting his pride away he says “a hug.”
“a hug?” your smile has widened. “i thought you weren’t moody?”
“i’m not. i just— you know what forget I asked.” miguel goes to turn away feeling stupid, but then you’re reaching forward, wrapping your arms around his neck, with a smile.
at first miguel doesn’t know where to place his hands, but you stay put, just resting your body against his, as your cheek slightly squishes up against his shoulder. then miguel slowly—very slowly—wraps his arms around your midriff, and hugs you back.
miguel doesn’t what to admit that his body has instantly relaxed upon feeling yours against his. your hand had begun to softly soothe the top of his back. just drawing in slow circles, that makes his muscles stop their tensing.
and that hug wasn’t the last time it happened.
now miguel would secretly search for you. big on the ‘secret’ part though, because he can’t have anyone else knowing he likes to hug you. no that would cause too many implications and destroy his well thought out ‘in control’ demeanour.
so when he’d find you walking alone—something he noticed you did a lot. and after he’d make sure that you were both in a desolate enough place, he’d softly grab your arm, pulling you somewhere even more desolate before he’s wrapping his arms around you in a much needed hug.
you didn’t mind. hugs had always been your love language with family and friends alike. though you were surprised by how often miguel would now seek you out, just so you could rest your head on his shoulder and draw patterns on his back.
he claimed it was just for relaxation and that you shouldn’t have offered him a hug if you would’ve asked so many questions. so you let him, his own hand having gradually drawn its own patterns on your waist.
he liked hearing and feeling your breathing. your breath by his ear sent almost cleansing shivers through him. and the feel of the rise and fall of your chest against his own made his usually racing heartbeat calm down to match with yours.
he liked the calmness your body gave him. and deep down he knew he now craved it.
;;
you were all in a different universe. gwen, miles, pavitr, hobie, peter, mayday, miguel and you. jess had to take care of another mission so miguel very clearly claimed how he’s stuck with you all, his scowl very present.
it was midway through trying to catch this anomaly when miguel’s gaze gets caught up in a man and his child. and as you stopped, noticing his focused gaze first, you identified the man and child as miguel and his daughter.
you didn’t know much about miguel’s daughter. just that in his universe she had died. and now as miguel watches a variant of himself with a variant of his daughter he can feel his body tensing.
he’s never had the misfortune of seeing variants of his family before. and now really wasn’t the time to dwell and sink deeper into his mind but he just can’t help it.
“is he okay?” whispered miles to peter.
peter shakes his head. “but there’s nothing we can do about it. no one can take him out of episodes like this.”
because everyone could see that inside miguel was fuming, so close to exploding that everyone had almost taken a step back.
you stared at miguel, watching as his chest heaved with a racing heart.
you remember one time he had muttered to you, head in your neck. you weren’t sure if you were actually meant to hear it or not. but he had said how your breathing slowed his breathing. or something along those lines. because after he had said that he had drawn you in tighter, keeping his large hands around your body.
so now you edge closer. and this could be a terrible idea, you realise that. your friends seem to as well.
gwen hisses your name quietly, watching as you edged closer to the ‘beast’ or how everyone else was treating him like.
you all needed miguel to focus to capture this especially dangerous anomaly. you couldn’t have him trapped in his mind teetering on the edge.
so you continued to walk forward, and as everyone stared in shock, you carefully wrapped your hands around his neck in a hug. you did so very lightly, to give him any room for rejection. you were actually waiting for the rejection.
but then, to everyone’s shock, miguel wraps his arms around your waist, just like every other time. and he’s found you fit against him so nicely, it felt so comfortable. your heartbeat was against his now, and the slower tempo made miguel sink into your neck, his arms now engulfing you.
shocked now isn’t a big enough word. because you were hugging miguel. and it wasn’t the ‘you’ part everyone was surprised by. it was the ‘miguel’ part. he was clearly eager to hug you back, and they all watched as miguel practically became putty in your hold.
yes. miguel craved your hugs now. and there was nothing you could do to stop him from bringing you in and keeping you close. you were now his comfort and he a wasn’t going to let that go so easily.
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© messylustt.tumblr please don’t steal, copy or translate my work onto other platforms.
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hysteria-things · 3 months
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MATT'S STREAM
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𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: dom!chris x reader
𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you and chris’ relationship isn’t out to the public just yet. when he’s on stream with matt, you tease him.
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: SMUT, swearing, teasing, dry humping, cock warming, degradation if you squint, p in v, semi-public (?)
ASSUME YOU'RE ON THE PILL!
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1,521
𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: hiii i’m excited for this. let’s see how this goes :)
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chris sits at his desk, spam clicking and smashing buttons on his keyboard. he talks to his brothers in his headset.
matt’s streaming on twitch right now, meaning that thousands of fans are watching the three of them play fortnite. you’ve been with chris for a few months, yet the fans have no idea. you both collectively agreed to keep your relationship out of the public eye.
hence why you are seated next to him out of frame, watching the stream go down. your eyes scan to his side profile. his brows furrow in concentration, his tongue sticking out as he focuses on the computer screen. you hear the boys scream in his headset, and he slams his hands onto his lap.
“damn.” he grunts out, glancing over at you for a moment and smiling.
“i’m gonna go to the bathroom.” he says into the mic before muting it and taking off his headset. he turns his face cam off and goes into the bathroom to do his business.
he comes out beats later, sitting back in the gaming chair, wiggling to get comfortable. you get up, which gains his attention. “you doing okay?” he asks.
“yeah. just need to stretch.”
before he could unmute his mic and turn the cam back on, you push the chair back slightly to have enough space to straddle his lap. he wraps his arms around your waist and welcomes you closer, kissing your collarbone. “they’re going to think i’m shitting.” he says jokingly.
your arms snake around his neck and you lean back to look at him. “say your camera broke.”
he smirks and puts back on his headset. “i’m back.” he starts. “for some reason, my camera is acting weird.”
“it’s all good. as long as we can still hear you.” matt’s voice replies.
the thin fabric you call panties rubs against his bulge through his red plaid pajama pants. you have a shirt on, one of chris’s FRESH LOVE t-shirts that covers you enough to look like a nightgown. a sensation tingles between your legs, and you start to move your hips slowly.
you hear chris groan, pressing a button on his keyboard. “what are you doing?” he asks sternly.
“i need to get comfortable.” you tease, rocking your hips harder. he opens his mouth to say something, but closes it and clicks unmute again.
you rest your head in the crook of his neck and continue to rock your hips, feeling him grow beneath you. he still talks to his brothers normally, but his performance on the game doesn’t look good.
“what the fuck is up with you, chris?” nick questions into the headphones.
“sorry,” he mumbles.
your hands find their way to the back of his neck and tug at his hair lightly. you breathe heavily to not make any noise since his mic is right next to your head. you don’t even notice your hips rutting and body tensing when you feel your release soak your underwear.
you exhale shakily, lifting your body and looking at the mess you made. there’s a wet stain on his pants on top of his hard-on. you don’t even have to look to know your underwear is ruined.
chris looks at you confused, before following your gaze. you go to get up but he grabs your hips and places you back to where you’re hovering over him. he unties his pants and pulls them down along with his boxers. he moves the mic away from his mouth, leaning toward your ear.
“don’t move or make a fucking sound,” he warns in a low tone you could barely hear.
he pushes your panties to the side and guides you down onto his cock, fighting off the hissing noise trying to escape your lips as he stretches you out tenderly and slowly. you and chris started having sex not long ago, but even after a few days without it, you had to readjust again.
this, however, is a first.
you guys never tried cock warming before. you felt so nervous. so excited. so full.
after multiple rounds of fortnite that felt like it lasted hours, your brain felt fuzzy despite not even doing anything. every time he talked, laughed, or celebrated a victory or loss, he’d thrust deep inside of you. and it drove you nuts.
you hear commotion on the other end of the headset. “fuck!” chris screams, jolting his hips further into you than at any other time. your eyes roll ever so slightly, mouth agape as your bottom lip grazes over his bare shoulder. it’s too late to take back the moan that came out of you.
chris’ hands make their way to your ass and squeeze hard, setting a reminder.
be quiet. right.
your patience becomes thinner and thinner, since it’s already been about thirty minutes. too desperate, you start to grind against him.
before he can do or say anything, you grab his mic and fist your hand over it so nobody can hear.
“please let me ride you. i promise i’ll be quiet.” you beg.
“so needy.” he sighs, taking your hand off of the mic and returning to the game.
rutting your hips forward, you start bouncing, your clit swollen from sitting still for so long without doing anything about it. you don’t know, but you could’ve sworn you heard chris groan.
too busy focusing to try to not make a sound by biting your lip, you hear sentences being scattered around from the boys.
“i don’t know, man.”
“this game sucks!”
“is your camera working yet?”
“no, sorry!”
little do they know, here you are, fucking yourself on your boyfriend’s dick like a bitch in heat.
you nuzzle your head in his neck and kiss a spot before biting down to stifle your pathetic sounds. chris hisses at the sudden contact and misses a kill, the other person killing him instead, costing them to lose.
“for fuck sake. chris, are you sure you’re okay?” matt asks in annoyance.
the tip of his cock brushes against your g-spot unexpectedly, forcing a whine out of you. “actually.” chris starts. “i don’t feel good, to be honest. i might log off for tonight.”
he quickly ends the discord call and shuts down his computer, stopping your movements. you look at him with glassy eyes, a frown portraying your face. he runs a finger up your spine before gripping onto your hair and yanking it, making you whimper. “first, you ruin my pants.”
he thrusts himself up into you, taking you by surprise with a gasp.
“then, you tease me.”
another thrust.
“now, you can’t follow simple fucking instructions.”
again.
a broken moan comes out of you, chris slapping your ass. “need me to fuck you so bad you can’t even wait two hours. instead, you get off by fucking yourself on my dick like your life depends on it. so pathetic.”
you whine of embarrassment, yet you don’t want this to stop.
“please.” you breathe out. “i’m sorry. please fuck me.”
with that, chris grabs your thigh with his free hand and starts plunging into you from below. his grip is still tight on your hair. you let out breathy moans left and right since each thrust takes the air out of your lungs. your eyes start prickling with tears from all of the built-up pleasure. “oh my— fucking— jesus— god.”
chris chuckles at your failed attempt to form a sentence. your moans transition into high-pitched squeals when he hits the angle that makes a knot form in your stomach. he releases his grip from your hair and moves it to your jaw, his hand that was on your thigh coming up to your mouth. he shoves in his middle and ring finger for you to suck on.
god, this felt good, and boy was it hot.
drool starts dribbling down your chin as you moan around his fingers and your eyes roll back. chris twitches inside you causing him to groan and take out his fingers, but your mouth still hangs open as unholy sounds come out of it. he releases your jaw and cups your ass with both hands.
“holy shit.” you whine. “i’m gonna cum.”
“let go, y/n. fuck you’re doing so good for me.”
because you certainly don’t have to be told twice, your whole body trembles and you fall forward. your hands cup the sides of his neck.
“i love you.” you moan into his neck as he continues thrusting to get to his release. “i love you so fucking much— jesus god.” you cry out when you feel chris filling you up.
he thrusts a few more times into your trembling body to get down from his high.
“look at me.” he says softly, bringing your head up to make eye contact. he smiles and kisses your lips. “i love you too, ma.”
when you come back to your senses you lift yourself off of him and stumble to his bed to sit down. chris pulls up his boxers and checks his phone that’s been blowing up on the desk in front of him.
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effervescentleaf · 1 year
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jeepers this game is so overwhelming (i want to do everything it has to offer at once)
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luveline · 6 months
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spencer one shot where he’s angry at somebody else [bc he so does look so kissable when he’s angry >:(] maybe someone at one of the precincts they’re working at said something rude about r and he defends u and maybe he gets a lil kiss <3
im thinking “this is calm and it’s doctor” vibes bc that scene does things to me 😭
ty for requesting ♡ fem, 1.1k
cw for sexual harassment
"Jesus," Spencer says, rushing to stand behind you as you bend over. 
"Mm?" you hum. You're fishing for your dropped change unsuccessfully by the precinct vending machines. "They have your chips, did you see?" 
"Your pants are ripped," Spencer says, hand ghosting your thigh. 
"What?" you ask, shooting up. You turn on the spot to hide, hand leaping back. You feel at the seam. "Where?" 
"Top of your thigh." 
"Shit, really? Can you see my–" 
"Yeah," he says, meeting your wide eyes while you locate the rip. "How did you do that?" He laughs. 
"Don't laugh!" you demand, though you're giggling as you do, hand covering your thigh and the bottom of your butt inefficiently. 
"Do you want my jacket?" 
"Don't cover it up, toots." 
You and Spencer both blink. There's a crowd of grinning beat cops by the door of the cafeteria who've obviously witnessed your misdemeanour. "Toots?" Spencer asks. 
"Sorry, boys, that's the end of the show," you say with a grin. Not because you particularly enjoy having been oggled, but it's always been like this. Men will always make weird comments to you, and you've learned to play nice until they're out of your jurisdiction. 
"Turn back around," one says bravely, though you aren't sure which one. 
Spencer stands in front of you subtly. "Do you know that thirty eight percent of women experience sexual harassment in the workplace?" he asks, quick but measured. "Thirty eight percent, but I'm sure a much smaller number of those women are federal agents, and a smaller number again have the capacity to break your arm. I've seen her give serial killers radial fractures. I've seen her do worse." 
"We were just messing around," one says. 
"No need to get defensive," says another. "Don't get mad, boy." 
"I am defensive, but I'm not mad."
His tone attracts the attention of a precinct sergeant who barks at them to stop messing around and get back to work. "Were they bothering you?" he asks after they've filtered out with their heads down. 
"No," you say swiftly. "Everything's fine." 
Spencer frowns, worse when the sergeant leaves, turning to you to take your hand. A few weeks ago at a company picnic, when the sun was high and your spirits comparatively lower, you'd apologised to him for flirting. You love to flirt and especially with him, puppy eyed Spencer with his head of brown hair and his big brain, but some of the team suggested you were taking it too far. You apologised, but Spencer didn't really get what you were saying sorry for and took your hand to lead you out of the sun. He protects you. 
"You okay?" he asks. 
"I'm fine." 
"You sure?" His voice fries. 
"I'm sure," you say. His hand is an interesting thing on yours. He has long, long fingers that seem to possess their own willpower, moving even as they're sewn through yours. "I don't know what to do about my pants." 
Spencer's eyebrows pinch together. "Well, I'll take care of that. I'll find you something. I can't believe those as–" 
"Oh," you interrupt, taking your hand back in want of a better thing to hold, his cheek a mix of soft and scratchy against your palm. "You're still mad." 
"I'm not mad," he insists, though eventually he relents, "Alright, I'm angry that they'd think it was okay to objectify you." 
"What else?" you ask, letting your voice drop in pitch, the sound smooth as angora silk. 
"I'm thinking about if I hadn't been here." 
"I can protect myself," you murmur, endeared by the heat in his gaze. "You said it yourself, handsome. Radial fractures." 
"You shouldn't have to." 
"We both already know that," you say, the side of your hand slipping down his cheek reverently. He squints gently, his lashes dark triangles, his irises a browned sugar. His jaw clenches under your touch. "You're handsome." 
"Right now?" he asks dryly. 
"Are you handsome right now?" 
"Are you really flirting with me right now?" 
"Why wouldn't I be?" You draw a line under his ear whisper soft to curl a longer strand of his hair around the tip. "You look hot when you're winning." 
"What did I win?" he asks, like he doesn't want to know. 
You grin at him, stickying. "Would you like an itemised list?" you ask, rising on tiptoes to speak into the shell of his ear. "What do you think you deserve, handsome? For such a fearless defence?" 
He's not immune to your whims, but he is used to them, planting his hands on your shoulders to ease you back on sure footing. "I don't want anything. I'll always defend you." 
"Can I give you a small token of my gratitude, at least?" 
His pinking cheeks practically emanate heat. "We don't have time for this," he says regretfully, "I still have to find you a coverup." 
"Just a small token," you say. 
He hums and haws. "Alright. Okay, whatever you want." 
"You sure?" 
He nods once, his jaw working with something unsaid. You touch his neck, fingertips trailing along the underside of his jaw until you're sure it's what he wants before you brace your hands behind his head and press a chaste kiss to his cheek, close enough that the corner of his lips align with yours but don't overlap. His neck is hot in your hands, his hair soft, his breath hooking as you lift your lips just a touch and your nose digs into his cheek. "Thank you, Spencer," you whisper. 
He pulls you closer. 
You shudder as his hand presses into the small of your back, wondering what it is he wants to do. His fingers spread. Your thoughts turn to white noise. Like he can sense it, he breathes out and steps away, but any sense of urgency is gone. 
"As much as I might tease, I really do need some pants," you say. "I'm not very interested in anyone else seeing my panties today." 
He rushes off to find you something and you press the backs of your fingers to your cheeks, feeling the heat there with a resigned embarrassment. He has no idea how much power he has over you, in his stony anger and his eager reception. The phantom of his hand warms your back until he returns, his sweater in hand. "Sorry, this is it." 
"If you want me to wear your clothes, just say so." 
"Hotch is pretty pissed at us." 
"Ah," you sigh, tying his sweater around your waist, "another day in paradise, baby." 
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mammonsrockstargf · 21 days
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It starts small. You honestly don't think much of it. Crows begin leaving you gifts in your window frame. It's pretty rocks. It's a small screw. It's coins and grimm, it's a button from a shirt, it's shiny beads.
You bring it up to Mammon randomly one day. He stares at you wide-eyed. "What, you mean crowns leave ya gifts? Sound ridiculous," he says and you shrug.
"I mean, I've heard about crows leaving gifts for humans before. It's not that unusual, but usually, the humans give something to the crows in return," you say, thinking aloud. "That's the part that confuses me. I haven't given anything to the crows, so why do they like me so much?" Mammon's cheeks are bright red by now, the blush going all the way down his neck. Your brows furrow with concern.
"Hey, are you okay?" you ask and he nods quickly. "Yeah, 'm fine, gotta-go-see-ya! " he stutters and quickly leaves you, practically running away. You look after him in confusion. Weren't you both just supposed to be headed home?
The gifts continue. You get a single earring. At one point you get a small bone and at another time you get a tooth which leaves you a bit unsettled but also intrigued. You treasure every single gift, keeping it in a small box by your desk. You begin to leave the crows gifts in return. You find that they like peanuts and berries. One time you experimentally leave a big piece of watermelon, only to find it devoured within minutes.
The next day there's a pretty locket with what looks like a flower engraved in it. You gape at the locket and instantly put it on, proudly wearing it around your neck. You make sure to leave the crows a feast that day.
Satan is the first brother to notice it when it slips out from the collar of your uniform one day. "Is that new?" he asks. "Oh yeah, I've befriended a bunch of crows." Satan stops in his tracks and stares at you.
"You've befriended crows?" He repeats and you nod. "Yes. Why is everyone so weird about this?" A knowing smile creeps onto his face and he shakes his head.
"Why do you think the crows like you so much?" he asks. You hum, considering it for a second. Eventually, you have to draw a blank and look at Satan in defeat. His smile only grows wider.
"Ask Mammon. He might know."
You find Mammon in his room, lying in his bed. He smiles when he sees you and pats the bed, motioning you to come over. "Come here," he says and you do, lying down next to him. He huffs and pulls at you so you're lying on his chest. You can feel his heart beating and you look up at him through your lashes.
"Hey, Mamms," you say and he runs his hand down your back, rubbing circles into it. "Hey, treasure," he says and grins.
"Satan says you might know the cause of my new friendships." His cheeks turn crimson in an instant and he lets out something akin to a nervous laugh. "Oh, the crows, you mean?" you huff and playfully roll your eyes. "Come on, big guy, spill the beans," you say and Mammon sighs.
"So, the crows like you, because, well, I told them about you," he says and a grin spreads across your face. "Go on," you say.
"Okay, I have crow familiars, you know what a familiar is, right?" he says and looks at you expectantly. You rake your brain, remembering briefly having about it in one of your classes. "Yeah, it's like witches with black cats, right?" you say and Mammon hums.
"Yeah, kind of, but anyone can have a familiar and it can be any animal. The whole black cat thing is just something the catholic church made up." You nod in understanding while Mammon continues to rub patterns into your back. The beating of his heart seems to have become louder underneath you. "So what you're saying is you can't shut up about how awesome I am and now a bunch of crows are obsessed with me?" you say and Mammon hides his face in his hands. You giggle and pry his hands away, smiling at him adoringly.
"Please don't make fun of me," he huffs and you pout at his antics. "I could never tease my lovely little bird boy," you coo and Mammon groans while pushing you off him. He turns his back to you and you laugh manically. "Come on, Mamms, It's cute," you say and press soft kisses to the nape of his neck. "you're cute," you say and throw an arm and a leg over him, attempting to spoon him. You feel him instantly melting to your touch, completely unable to keep his resolve. It's almost too easy when he turns around again to face you. You smile at his pink face.
"I really like the gifts the crows gave me," you reassure him because you genuinely do. It's become something you look forward to when you open your window.
"You do?"
"Yeah, absolutely," you affirm and he smiles sheepishly. "I once tried to train them to steal money for me, but it didn't work."
a/n: thanks for reading! find my other stuff here <3
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itostea · 3 months
Text
my first & last love (gojo x reader)
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satoru realizes he's in love with you after you suggest he set you up with suguru
tags: fem! reader, Gojo praises you like A LOT! slight miscommunications, childhood friends to lovers, reader gets drunk & satoru helps, he's a lovesick idiot & dramatic, both yours & his pov, gojo’s implied to be taller than reader, slightly suggestive bc it’s gojo, slight angst
word count: 11k
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The first time Gojo Satoru learned true, unadulterated jealousy was on a Friday night out in his sports car–the crickets chirping to the melody of a random song. 
It was real jealousy—not just simple, petty envy. Not like the envy he felt when someone got to taste the limited edition cupcakes at the bakery before he did or the envy of studying hard and getting a lower score than someone who didn’t (which is a lie because Gojo was that very person who was effortlessly good at everything he did). 
Either way, he’s never felt the bite of jealousy, breaking the flesh as blood drips slowly, lingering as if it could never be washed away from his skin. Never felt it smother his throat with needles and leave him with a metallic taste in his mouth. That is, until today.
It was colder than usual but he still insisted on grabbing some ice-cream from the local convenience store, declaring it was his your reward for putting up with the party Sukuna hosted–the same party that ended in your dress being soaked in vomit. The atmosphere was perfect for sentiment, for talking–for confessing. 
You’re humming to the beat of the song, licking your lips clean of the ice cream you just ate. “Satoru,” you murmur his name softly, staring at him through your lashes. 
“Yeah?” His eyes drink in the sight of you: your droopy eyes from sleep, the faded lip tint on your lips, the hoodie he let you borrow that’s obviously a few sizes too big on you. There’s hardly any light coming in but he can still feel your eyes on him, the tension so thick he thinks he might suffocate from it. 
For a moment, he’s scared, fearful of what you were going to say because he knows this silence. This is the very silence that happens before someone confesses to him, the same suspense that he has to mentally prepare himself for since he knew he was going to break another heart. And he’s terrified that he might have to do it to you–his friend, his neighbor, someone who he’s known for a very long time. 
“I need to tell you something,” you start and he winces, shifting uncomfortably on the driver’s seat. 
“You do?” He mutters. You’re nervous. He can tell because he’s known you long enough to understand what you’re feeling–long enough to know that your eyes are darting from place to place, a habit of yours.
His chest squeezes when you take a deep breath just as he exhales, already making his mind to grant you a swift rejection. He hopes you can forgive him after this.
“--I like Getou and I need your help.”
“Listen, I’m sorry but I just don’t see you that way–”
He blinks, wondering if he heard you right or if he was drunk (he didn’t drink at the party because he was your ride home). “Wait what?”
It was your turn to blink now. “I like Getou and I–”
“I heard you the first time,” he cuts you off hastily, clearing his throat to play it cool. He runs a hand through his hair, grazing the side of his undercut. “Okay wow.”
Gojo mentally curses himself for not knowing what else to say other than humming pensively, busying himself by mixing the ice-cream in the tiny container. He still needs time to process, to mentally upload your words to his brain. You like Getou and not him? He pauses, repeating that thought again. 
You like Getou and not him. Part of him tells himself that this is exactly what he wanted since your friendship wouldn’t go to ruin. You managed not to catch feelings for him–managed not to fall for him like many others. Yet, he’s confused when another part of him doesn’t respond too well once he realizes that this was you he was dealing with.
“That’s not weird right?” You question, bringing your knees up to your chest and propping your chin atop of them to watch his reaction–reminding him to keep it cool. 
“Nah it’s not weird at all,” he said, not thinking straight when his next words escaped his lips. “So why Suguru?” And not me? Though, he keeps that last part to himself. 
“Well isn’t it obvious? He’s tall, handsome, and has a good personality.”
Am I not that? He asks himself, not bothered by how stuck up he may seem. “That’s not very specific from someone who likes him.”
You huff and he can tell you’re narrowing your eyes at him. “I know you don’t wanna hear me yap about the specifics, Satoru.”
“I do.” He says quickly.
You make a noise of surprise, looking interested in his sudden intrigue. “Well okay… Suguru’s very caring and attentive. Being around him makes me feel warm inside you know? I’m not sure when I started liking him but I just know that I just really want to be closer to him. And it doesn’t help that he’s just so smart and nice. And his looks are just a bonus.”
“Oh,” he utters, not even bothering to curse himself for his lack of response. He tries a weak smile. “You must really like him.”
Gojo can’t help but furrow his brows at the semi-embarrassed expression you wear—as if you were flustered at the mere thought of having a crush. “Oh, was I that obvious?” You ask, not even bothering to deny the fact that you were undoubtedly head over heels for his best friend.
Oh god, he thinks he might be sick and he doesn’t know why. 
“Are you going to help me?” Your voice cuts him out of his reverie and he’s cut back into reality–the reality being the anticipation in your eyes. Did you always look this pretty? 
Gojo nearly flinches at the thoughts that cross his mind, blaming the unprocessed shock for being the cause of these obscure ideas. He coughs. “Hold on. So you don’t like me right?”
“What? No I–” your eyes widen in understanding. “Oh so that’s what that was all about. You thought the person I liked was you! How cocky can you be to think everyone’s in love with you?”
“It’s not cocky if it’s true. I’m just really lovable y’know?”
You let out a sarcastic laugh. “That can’t be true since I’m not everyone.”
I know, he thinks to himself, staying silent as he watches you shuffle in your seat. He didn’t just dislike this idea you proposed, he hated it.  It wasn’t hard to just decline and keep it like that–let you figure your feelings on your own. 
Yet, something about the near-pleading look in your eyes made him reconsider and it filled him with an urge to smooth the wrinkles on your expression. He sighs loudly, rubbing the invisible crease in between his brows. “Well I guess you came to the right person because I’m an expert at this. 5 star ratings and all that. But what makes you think I’m going to do this for free?”
“Uh the goodness of your heart?”
“Cute,” he laughs. “But no. I want a coffee from the place everyday for a month.”
“What?! Are you insane? That means I’d have to wake up early everyday to get in line!” 
He shakes his head, waving his finger around with a disappointed expression. “A small price for love.”
“I don’t understand why you even need me for that. You can buy the whole shop yourself, ass,” you whisper the last part behind your palm, making his eyes light up in amusement.
“What was that?”
“Nothing. Actually you know what? Fine,” you huff. “You’re right. It is a small price for love. But I’m not walking back and forth around campus to deliver your coffee.” 
“I got that covered,” he grins, already coming up with a plan in his head. He likes this, the banter you two typically enjoyed. It made your duo, a duo. In a normal situation, he’d relax and continue bothering you. Still, the feeling of dread gnaws at his throat and he tries to swallow it–tries to ignore it by pretending to be the same, goofy Gojo you’re used to. And he’s starting to think it’s hard to do that when you look up at him with such genuine gratitude. 
“Satoru.”
“Hm?”
“Thank you, I mean it.”
Gojo feels that emotion again, that visceral feeling where he might go sick and vomit all over the car. “Yeah.”
He thinks he would’ve preferred if you confessed to him instead. 
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Gojo wonders if stress (if you can call that) is enough to make someone wake up with a hangover the next day. He didn’t drink last night but he thinks he might have–considering the headache that was interrupting his morning. 
He’s in the middle of downing a glass of water when his phone buzzes, your name popping up as a notification. 
(Name): i’m gonna get ur coffee pls come 
Him: come ??? cum
(Name): it’s too early to be doing this 
He sees the bubbles appear before they disappear for a while, only popping up again when he’s in the middle of cracking an egg over the pan 
(Name): SATORU 
(Name): OHMYGOD SATORY SOI SOS 
Him: WHAT 
Him: HELLO??? 
(Name): GETOUS HERE OMG IM GONNA 
(Name): HE SAID HI TO ME 
(Name): WHAT DO I DO?
Gojo grips his phone a bit tighter, his tongue poking the inside of his cheek. He sighs.
Him: say hi back 
Him: and then go PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE
(Name): no wtf and i meant what do i after this silly 
(Name): i don’t know what to do im literally an npc rn
(Name): jk he just said bye :(
Him: should’ve done what i told u to do
Another name pops up from the top and his eyes scan the name, his brows raising in curiosity. He huffs at the message, feeling a wave of nausea cross him.
Suguru: You’re close friends with (Name) right?
Him: yeah why 
Suguru: Nothing
It’s silent for a few seconds and Gojo’s back to eating his eggs, tempted to pop a Tylenol to ease the growing headache. Contrary to popular belief, he was against the reliance of pain-relieving meds, opting to let his body figure things out on its own. Luckily for him, having food in his stomach was enough to relieve the headache.
His mind wanders back to the night in the car where you told him to help you with your crush on his best friend–not fully coming to terms with the fact that he wished you liked him instead. Since when did he start feeling this way and why did he need another man to make him realize he liked or even loved you? The thought of anyone having you for themselves was like hearing the sound of nails against a chalkboard and he was jealous. He finally admitted it. 
Gojo Satoru wasn’t an idiot when it came to his feelings and he’d be a fool if he kept denying his undeniable irritation that came with your crush for Suguru. He places the unwashed dish atop some other bowls and utensils, reminding himself to get to that later since his priority was not to keep you waiting at the coffee shop. 
Another buzz and Satoru nearly trips over his feet at the dread he gets from seeing his best friend’s message. Are you kidding me? He thinks to himself as he reads the message again. 
Suguru: She’s cute
Yeah, he thinks he might be sick again.
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Music’s playing in the background to substitute the sound of chatter that’d usually fill the room if Shoko were here. It wasn’t rare for Shoko to not flake on parties and it was even rarer for you to leave your comfort zone and go to one–especially the last one hosted by Sukuna; but this one was different. Suguru was the host and you’d be an idiot to miss it. 
You flinch at the feeling of your mascara poking the inside of your eye, cursing quietly as you take a q-tip to fix the mistake. 
The buzz of your phone makes you freeze.
Gojo: omw to ur house 
Gojo: ill be there in 10 
You: wait satoru don’t get mad but what do i wear 
Gojo: …
Gojo: YOU DIDNT LIKE THINK ABOUT THAT AN HR AGO?
You: I WANNA STAND OUT TO ATTRACT THE LOML OKAY? 
You: so i need ur opinion 
Gojo: dude
Gojo: ok
Gojo: just wear whatever u want it’ll be fine 
You: yeah but what specifically?
Gojo: not smth that makes you look like a grandma 
Gojo: like that dress u wore to the last party 
Gojo: no offense
You: but i liked that dress :(((( 
You: was it that bad?? I mean i had to throw it out bc of the vomit anyways
Gojo: it made u look like a grandma but in a good way 
You: wow okay thanks
Gojo: you looked nice 
Gojo: ANYWAYS  
Gojo: a pair of jeans 
Gojo: and that light blue long sleeve that shows ur shoulders 
You: really? 
Gojo: yeah and i’m leaving my apartment now so hurry up 
You like the message, tapping your lips to even out the lip tint before you rush to put on the shirt and jeans. Doing a quick double-take in the mirror, you spin once and prop your hands on your hips, snapping a few selfies to commemorate this day. 
You’re not sure how much time passes until you hear excessive honking outside, the sound of your phone buzzing as you see Gojo’s caller id. It’s enough to make your eyes roll as you grab your bag–leaving the door locked and the lights off. 
Gojo’s grin is boyish and teasing as his eyes scan you from top to bottom. “Oh look at you,” he coos. “You’re actually wearing what I told you to wear.”
“Well I felt like listening today,” you murmur, feeling a small ripple of embarrassment pass you. 
“Atta girl.”
“Shut up,” you mumble, feeling a grin form when you hear him chuckle. He puts his car into reverse mode, propping his arm on the top of your seat. Up close, you can get a stronger whiff of his cologne–its musk and earthiness slowing your heartbeat, calming you. Your eyes scan his outfit: a black pullover layered atop white t-shirt, paired with a pair of pants that were on the edge of being joggers and trousers.
On anyone else, the outfit wouldn’t have done them good like it did with Gojo. To your displeasure and awe, he looked effortlessly classy. And if he noticed your lingering gaze, he didn’t mention it. 
“What’s your game plan?” His voice draws you back to reality and you watch as he sets the car back into drive mode. 
“Game plan?”
“That’s right,” he glances at you, his shades sliding lower on his nose bridge. “Your plan to seduce the love of your life.”
“I’m not going to seduce him!” You gape, narrowing your eyes at his widening smile. His hand reaches down to turn the volume of the song a bit louder, stopping at the upcoming red light. 
“I’m just joking with you,” he laughs, his eyebrows furrowing slightly before that smile returns to his face, not quite meeting his eyes like it usually does. He sighs before breaking into a laugh that almost sounds bitter. “I’d pay to see that though.”
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At the party, you’d imagine yourself “mingling” with the crowd and letting loose–being the life of the party. Unfortunately for you, your feet are still stuck on the kitchen floor and you’re glued to Gojo’s side. You’d like to blame it on the vomit incident from Sukuna’s party and you’re fortunate enough to not be known as the “girl that someone threw up on.” 
Either way, you weren’t especially fond of the fact that you were keeping Gojo from having fun somewhere else. Like in one of the unoccupied rooms upstairs or in the living room playing some drinking games. It’s enough to make you feel somewhat guilty and suddenly regretful that you even came to this party. 
You tap his shoulder in the kitchen, offering him a reassuring smile. “Satoru. You don’t have to stay with me. I can manage myself!” 
“That’s what you said last time,” he chuckles, rummaging through Getou’s fridge to search for something sweet, frowning when he sees traditional Japanese snacks that his grandparents would eat. “What the hell?” He murmurs to himself.
“I mean it,” you say, taking a few steps back. “You have some fun. I don’t want to bother you too much.”
“You’re not–”
“Satoru. (Name),” a velvety voice greets, all too familiar. A warmth spreads over you. “You made it.”
“Getou,” you murmured to yourself, glancing at Gojo who was already staring at you. 
For a second, you see a subtle tick in his jaw, a sight you blame on the lighting since he’s back to normal the moment he turns to face Getou. He grins that teasing smile of his. “Suguru.”
“You looking through my fridge again, Satoru?” The brunette huffs, kicking the fridge’s door shut lightly–exchanging the grin with his friend. Your heart squeezes as he casts a lingering look at you, his smile polite. “Hey (Name). Good seeing you here.”
“Huh?” You perk up. “Oh you too?”
You inwardly curse at yourself for how awkward you were, giving Gojo a scathing look as he hides his laughter behind his palm. Luckily for you, Getou’s sweet and he was also good at redirecting topics. “You want something to drink?” 
“Oh sure,” you blink, offering a thankful smile. “Thank you Getou–”
“Suguru.” 
You pause, cocking your head to the side in confusion. “Sorry?” 
“Call me Suguru,” he hands you a red, plastic cup–his smile pretty enough to make your breath hitch. “We’ve known each other long enough.”
You feel your heart race as he looks at you expectantly, as if you knew what he wanted you to do next. You fidget, suddenly more bashful at the attention he was giving you. “Thank you Suguru.”
“No problem,” he smiles and you like how he looks satisfied with you. He hands another red cup to Satoru who stood beside you, the sarcastic grin of his returning. You take a tentative sip of the booze, watching curiously as Satoru and Suguru talked amongst themselves–reconnecting despite seeing each other only a day ago. 
You observe the two of them, mapping the details of Suguru’s face before your eyes land on Satoru–suddenly aware of the fact that the boy you spent most of your youth with grew up. Sure, you know that his face attracts attention from everyone but that was a token from childhood. It just didn’t hit you that he matured, grew up to be the man most would dream of dating. The realization is to make you wonder if Gojo ever registered the fact that you were growing too.
Slowly, you take another sip of your drink, blinking slowly as the alcohol settles in your system. Gojo’s the first to notice when you stumble, how your skin seems to heat up. “Hey hey,” he holds you by the shoulders, his voice soft. And if you paid closer attention, you would’ve seen the way Getou’s brows raised at how gentle his friend was acting towards you. “You okay?” 
Amidst your drunken state, you realize that Gojo didn’t bother drinking any of the liquor in his cup during his conversation with Suguru. And Suguru. Sweet Suguru who puts the pieces together and confirms that you’re a lightweight, the guilt evident in his expression. “Oh shit. I forgot how strong this liquor is.” 
“I’m okay,” you mumble and step forward, ready to excuse yourself to the restroom. Gojo looks like he’s about to say something until a group of unfamiliar faces barge into the kitchen, their faces bright as they greet Getou and Gojo with intentions to keep them occupied. Among the chatter and crowd, you find it easy to slip away–rushing to find a restroom. 
The first one you went in was already used by a couple that you remembered mumbling apologies to. The others were either locked or used. At some point, your gut told you to go upstairs and you staggered into an unoccupied bathroom where you splashed cold water on your face–sighing at how nice it felt against your skin.
The music’s only a fraction of its noise from up here and you’re surprised that there’s not much of a group upstairs. There’s a funny feeling in your stomach as you crouch slightly, mentally cursing yourself for downing the whole cup so quickly, ruining your chances to talk with Suguru–coherently at least. Part of you wants to sulk over your spoiled opportunities but another part of you just wants to crash on the tiled floor and sleep–rest your eyes for a bit. 
You’re thankful your mind was still conscious enough to rationalize the unsanitary conditions of the bathroom floor, opting to curl up in one of the hallways instead–shivering at the feeling of cold marble beneath you. Your eyes droop, a yawn escaping you. And you’re almost certain you would’ve fallen asleep if not for the gentle shaking of your shoulders. 
“Stop,” you whine softly, your vision blurry as you catch a glimpse of hair the color of snow and a pair of worried filled blue eyes. Your protests turn quickly to bemusement. “Satoru? What are you doing here?”
You think he smiles as he kneels down on one knee to be eye level with you. “How about I get you off the ground first?” 
“I don’t wanna. Let me sleep here,” you shake your head, ignoring how your body felt warm at how softly he treated you. 
“C’mon,” he chuckles. “The ground’s dirty. Let's get you to a bed at least.”
In your drunken state, your mind still decides it favors a soft comforter over cold marble and you see his eyes soften when you go limp in his arms–letting him lift you from the ground. “Good girl.”
Your mind goes fuzzy at the sound of that and you’re not sure if it’s the alcohol or something else that makes your temperature rise. In that simple moment, you let his arms wrap around you, cradling you to his chest as he makes his way downstairs. All your thoughts stop as your eyes close, drowning the sound of the party out as you permit sleep to take over. His hands give your thighs an occasional squeeze, the gesture oddly intimate yet you don’t bother questioning it or objecting to it. 
Even with the veil of sleep dropping on your form, you still recognize Suguru’s voice as he tells Satoru to take care of you, his tone apologetic–having been the one to give you the liquor. They talk for a bit and once more, you feel the bounce of each step as he carries you out the house.
You’re barely awake when Gojo puts you in the passenger seat and you feel disappointment wash over you when he stops holding you. You’re not sure when you grabbed onto the sleeve of his shirt, your eyes half-lidded as you peered up at him. “Don’t go.”
A noise of protest escapes your lips when he removes your cold hand from his shirt gently, rather taking it in between his warmer ones. “I won’t.”
“Satoru.”
“Hm?”
“I like when you compliment me.”
“Oh yeah?” He says, laughing a bit. “It’s hard not to.”
The music and cheers in Suguru’s house are still audible even in Gojo’s car, your vision getting darker and darker with each blink. Still, you can still feel Gojo’s hand gripping yours–his thumb rubbing circles on the skin as you invite sleep back in, taking deep breaths as you breathe in his cologne. 
And as sleep came to life, you allowed the dreams to live as well. 
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Was there such a thing as a relationship between dreams and memories? In moments of delirium, you can’t single out what’s real and what’s not–was it a dream or did it actually happen?
But now that days have passed and you’ve given yourself more time, you’re certain that Gojo was the one who carried you out of the house and spent his night caring for you. So you ruled out the possibility that the night was a dream, rather a memory that made you feel soft inside–grateful yet unsure. And if you wanted to ponder harder, you would’ve done so if not for the hell you were experiencing this week. 
Forgetting the content during a quiz. Getting yelled at by your boss. Having stepped in bird shit. Waking up late nearly every day because you’d forget to put your alarm on. 
If that wasn’t enough, you got in an argument with your parents over the phone. It was about something stupid and you were so frustrated that you ended up walking to some 7/11–buying yourself an ice-cream to cheer yourself up. The argument was so dumb and you weren’t even sure what you guys were even arguing about. All you knew that you should probably call them later to talk it out; you also knew that this week couldn’t get any worse.
What was Satoru doing right now? You think to yourself, pulling out your phone to check your messages–frowning when you saw none from him. Your eyes land on a message from Suguru, seeing the link he sent you to some video he found funny or intriguing. After the party, you were shocked to see an unknown number texting you, claiming it was Suguru and that Satoru gave your number to him. The day that happened, you texted him using exclamation marks and thanked him–smiling at your phone as you two exchanged witty messages with one another. 
You sighed, unlocking your phone and clicking Satoru’s contact and phoning him. You almost hang up after several rings but you hear his voice after the nth ring. “Hello?”
“Satoru?” You say, your voice cracking the second your lips part to speak. You weren’t expecting to cry and neither did Satoru–though you can hear the concern laced in his voice as he questions your whereabouts. 
“Where are you sweetheart?” You hear rustling in the background amidst his voice and your sniffles. “I’ll pick you up. Your location’s shared with me right?”
“Mhm,” you wipe your eyes, fidgeting with the hem of your hoodie. 
“Okay just stay there and don’t go anywhere. I’ll be there in a few. Don’t cry (Name).”
You think you might cry harder with how sweet his voice was. 
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Satoru thinks he might be the only one who notices the rift between you and him. And he’s not sure if he’s the one causing it or if it’s you. But after that night with you (in his car again), he’s been thinking about how soft you were in his arms; how he liked the way your head drooped against his chest. Or maybe he likes you but he’s not going to think about that unless he wants another headache. 
Regardless, he finds himself looking at his phone sporadically, subconsciously eager to see your name pop up unexpectedly–eager for things to go back to normal. Even though you two still speak, he’s almost sure that he’s not imagining the awkward tension in the air. 
Was he too intrusive when he carried you out to his car? Were you mad at him because he didn’t leave Suguru and you alone in the kitchen? It was a selfish thing to do, he admits. His original idea was to leave you alone with Suguru so you’d get to chat with him–get to know him like you intended to do at the party; but seeing Suguru give you that sly smile of his was enough to make Gojo ditch his plans of playing Cupid. 
If Gojo was a good man, he’d feel happy that you were getting what you wanted since he knew you weren’t the only one interested. Like with the message Suguru sent to Satoru and how he eyed you at the party; how he called Satoru over for a bit and told him that he understood why people liked you or found you attractive; how he commented on how the shirt you wore suited you. 
No shit, I picked it, he thought to himself as he recalled that night. Satoru always knew you were beautiful and he hated that everyone else knew too. You weren’t even his yet but he didn’t want to share you–to let anyone else hold you or have you. Seeing you blush and smile shyly at his best friend made him want to puke—made him want to claw his eyes out. That should be him and god he wishes it was.
He was selfish yet he never promised to be good. Yet, this was for you. He wanted you to be happy, is what he told himself whenever he saw you and Suguru talking. 
His phone buzzes and it’s almost embarrassing how quickly he snatches it, the anticipation in his eyes fading when he sees that it’s Suguru messaging him about the party today. Satoru sighs, rubbing the spot between his brows as he leans on the kitchen counter, suddenly reminded that he planned a party at his place today. It was an impulsive decision to forget about the tension between you two and Satoru’s kinda wishing he took the time to talk it out with you rather than planning something else. 
He invited a good amount of people and was going to invite you as well to give him a reason to call you. But lucky for him, you made things easier for him by calling him. Satoru thinks it’s not healthy for his blood temperature to rise just at the sight of your name on his phone and he’s already grinning when he picks up. “Hello?”
“Satoru?” 
Oh. He pauses, his brows furrowing at how your voice cracked as you tried to hide your sniffles. His first thought was to wonder who made you sad and he thinks it’s scary how hearing you cry was enough to send his emotions in a frenzy. But you needed him and he didn’t want you to be alone. “Where are you sweetheart?” He asks, the nickname flowing off his tongue before he can stop. “I’ll pick you up. Your location’s shared with me right?”
“Mhm,” You mumbled back and his heart nearly snapped in two with how dejected you sounded. He frowns, grabbing his jacket and his keys–rushing to slip on his sneakers. 
“Okay just stay there and don’t go anywhere. I’ll be there in a few. Don’t cry (Name).”
You make a sound of understanding and he hangs up, his finger tapping to click on Suguru’s contact. Satoru hears other familiar voices in the background but he doesn’t pay much attention to it. 
“What’s up Satoru–?”
“Party’s off.”
“What? Wait what are you–”
“Sorry something came up. I’ll tell you later,” he says, hanging up before his friend can say anything else. He knows he should feel bad for flaking out last minute but his list of priorities had you at the top of it. And he really didn’t care if anyone else would understand. 
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You’re regretting the choice of shorts in the chilly night air and the ice-cream you ate wasn’t helping you shiver any less. 
The way Satoru sounded made that warm, fuzzy feeling settle in your stomach again. He sounded like he would drop whatever he was doing just to get to you and it made you feel special. You think back to the sound of “sweetheart” from his lips, shaking your head when you feel your blood get warm.
“(Name)?” Satoru’s voice startles you from your thoughts and you think the sound of it could erase all your troubles. “You alright?” He asks, shrugging the jacket off his shoulders and draping them over your legs, kneeling down to see your face.
You only nod. “I want to go home.”
“Yeah I can take you back–”
“No,” you shake your head. “Back to your place.”
For a moment, you’ve stunned him but that surprise left as fast as it arrived. He sighs, tapping your knee with his finger. “Usually dinner comes first–”
“Not like that you idiot,” you kick him lightly, a grin forming on your lips. “Your methods of comforting are weird.”
“Yeah?” He laughs, the sound blending with the wind. “Well maybe I’m not trying to comfort you,” he eyes you with a teasing glint in his eyes and flashes a lopsided grin. He looked almost sweet as he did sly, the blend making your heart pick up in pace. 
You squirm, mustering a tone of nonchalance. “I changed my mind. I’m going back to my place.”
This time he chuckles, his eyes narrowing in amusement. “Nuh uh. It’s my job to wipe that frown off your face,” he says, the corny phrase making you roll your eyes. “C’mon, I’ll be good to you.”
You pretend to think, ignoring the attentive expression he wore. “Fine. I guess I’ll let you take me home.”
“That’s my girl,” he grinned, standing up to his full height. You beam at him, matching his steps as you two reach his door. By the time the two of you were settled at his place, you already spoke to your parents in private–clearing up the misunderstandings like Satoru reminded you to do. You were glad you had him and even more glad that things were falling back to place. 
Your eyes scan your surroundings, noticing how he must’ve tidied things up. “Did you clean your place?”
“Hm?” He grabs two mugs from the cabinet. “Oh yeah. I was going to have a party here.”
“Today?”
“That’s right,” he drawls, glancing at you from the corner of his eyes. “I was going to call you to see if you wanted to go.”
“Really?” That was a shock to you. “Are you still gonna have one today?”
“Nah. Canceled it last minute.”
You pause, raising your brows as you try not to jump to conclusions. “Why’d you cancel it?”
“Had better things to do. I'd rather hang out with you anyways,” he says casually, smiling when he finds the packets of hot cocoa. “Found it!”
Did he cancel the party for me? You think to yourself, a bit surprised that you came to that conclusion; but if you were right and he did, you wouldn’t know what to feel other than appreciation and maybe something else. Whether that was true or not, you know that you should be feeling guilt and not giddiness from having him prioritize you. Was it normal to feel this way for Satoru? You’re about to let your thoughts fill your head but you feel your breath hitch at how he seems to lean closer to you. 
His hands move you by the hips, the touch barely lasting five seconds. “Sorry I gotta get the spoons,” he murmurs, paying no mind to how you hold your breath. Your eyes fall to his biceps, swallowing a gasp as you see how the black material of his shirt moved with every movement he makes. There was no way he was human when he looked like that.
Oh my god, you think to yourself, suddenly mortified at the fact that you were checking him out. What was wrong with you right now? You always knew Gojo was attractive but you didn’t think he was this attractive. And if he had any idea of your internal conflict he didn’t pay it any mind. 
“Can you go get the movie ready for me?”
“Uh huh,” you nod immediately, quickening your pace as you try to distract yourself. By the time he sits next to you, the blankets and snacks are already placed neatly on the living room table. You smile and mutter a thank you when he hands you the mug of hot cocoa. 
“Feel better?” He asks, propping an arm on the head of the couch once you’re halfway through the movie: a random romcom you picked to cheer you up. Even as someone who claims he’d rather watch a movie with more action, you think the drama that comes with romcoms intrigues him–much more than he’d like to admit. 
You take a sip of your drink, your eyes flitting to him. “Much better.”
“I bet,” he murmurs, his eyes glancing at the way your knees touched. The scene panels to a teary confession the female lead does, the music dramatic with strings in the background. You watch intently, observing the expressions both characters make on screen.
“Y’know, I never understood how they can always come up with a speech like that on the spot,” Satoru comments, plopping a few gummy bears in his mouth. “Isn’t that unrealistic?”
“It’s a movie,” you point out, watching as the male lead hung onto every word the female lead had to say. “It’s not supposed to be realistic.”
“I guess you’re right. But that stuff apparently happens in real life right?”
“Wouldn’t you know? You have people confessing to you all the time.”
“I don’t give them much time to continue speaking,” he shrugs. 
You don’t like how uneasy you feel after he says that. “Well, maybe it’s love that makes this kind of stuff happen.”
This earns you an amused snicker. “Of course you’d say that. You gonna do that with Suguru? Confess to him from the bottom of your heart?”
You roll your eyes. “To do that, I’d have to be in love with him.”
“Are you?”
“No,” you give him an incredulous look. “I hardly know the guy. I just really like him.”
He makes a sound of understanding but you feel as if you’re deluding yourself when you see the look of relief cross his face. You turn to him, the movie forgotten all of a sudden. “Would you do that?”
“What? Confess to Suguru with the bottom of my heart?” 
“Yeah sure. That’s what I meant.” you huff, seeing his teasing grin form. You sigh. “No like…confess to someone you love.”
He’s quiet, the faraway look in his eyes confirming that he’s deep in thought. You’re not sure why a pang of irritation hits you when you realize that there might be someone Satoru’s in love with. And you’re not sure if it’s because he’s not telling you or because you want to be that someone. You go with the former because you’re supposed to like Suguru. 
His eyes wander to meet yours and the tick in his jaw makes you nervous–makes your palms sweaty because he’s never looked at you like that. You’re not even sure words could describe what emotion he had on his face. He smiles–not the smile that’s crooked and boyish. It’s the smile that’s sharp and makes his eyes narrow. “I might.”
“You might?” You ask, hating how breathless your voice sounded to your ears–something that he notices with the way amusement practically glimmers in his eyes. You swallow a gasp when his gaze falls to your lips, quickly flying back to your eyes. 
“Maybe,” he whispers and you can’t help but wet your lips, feeling faint when the bright blue of his eyes darkens to black. You don’t flinch when his head tilts, his arm coming to the side to trap you between the couch. His cologne overwhelms you, makes you drunk on him. He’s so close that you can feel his breath hit your face. 
“Satoru–” 
The sound of your phone buzzing crushes the tension quickly and you let him lean back–looking as if he had more to say. You feel a smidge of disappointment as you grab your phone. “It’s Suguru,” you say and you’re not sure why your inner voice begs Satoru to tell you to ignore the phone call–to act like he cares more. 
“Shouldn’t you answer it?” He questions and you hate that sinking feeling in your stomach when he doesn’t even spare a glance at you–as if acting like he wasn’t about to kiss you seconds ago. You can only frown, nodding as you watch him stand up–still not offering you one single look. “I’ll clean up.”
As you glance at your phone, at the name of Suguru appearing on your screen, you hope for the slightest bit of joy–that lovesick feeling you get whenever you’d see him. Yet, it felt wrong. This felt wrong. And apparently, Suguru could tell from your voice that there was something bugging you. 
“Is everything alright? You don’t sound too good.”
Your eyes linger on Satoru’s figure moving to the kitchen. You think Suguru mentions something about a date but you don’t pay much attention, not feeling all that bad as you drown out his voice. “Yeah. I’m fine. What were you saying?”
“I was asking if you wanted to go to dinner with me tomorrow. I’ll pick you up at 7 and we can–”
“Sure,” you say, trying to ignore the way your body lurches at your response–as if it didn’t want this. “Sure. I’ll see you at 7.”
You don’t catch what he says when he hangs up, only thinking of how Satoru looked at you when he was leaning closer. The thought doesn’t horrify you as much as it should but you think that if he had kissed you, you probably would’ve kissed him back. 
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If someone told you a month ago that you were going on a date with Suguru, you would’ve cried tears of joy and celebrated. But now, you’re almost undeniably feeling a wave of indifference hit you and it feels awful. Suguru’s perfect–his sharp features and his charming smile that’d send anyone into a frenzied mess. Or maybe most tend to fixate on how suave he is with his words–mixing the subtlest of flirtations with simple compliments.
He’s everything you could’ve asked for. Yet, you find yourself missing the ruthless beauty you saw in Satoru–the striking blue of his eyes and the rare color of his hair. You find yourself missing the rasp of his voice, how it’d soften that night when he comforted you; you find yourself missing his warm and strong embrace as he took care of you in your inebriated state; you find yourself missing how close he was that night on his couch and how he looked at you. 
At some point, you found yourself replaying that scene over and over again. The first few times, you were giddy with hormones as you imagined him leaning closer and kissing you. After a while, you wanted the image gone because it didn’t happen. He pulled away. He let you pick up the call from Suguru. He acted like nothing happened when in reality, a lot did happen. You two were finally breaching the line of friends and he knew that. 
So why? That question plagued your mind for days after and every time you think you forgot about it, the memory of him would remind you all over again. And when he only congratulated you when you told him about your date with Suguru you felt betrayed. Why don’t you care? You almost blurted out but technically he did care. After all, he was the one who was trying to set you guys up so why did you suddenly want to change your mind?
You think you might hate him a little for being so good at acting like everything’s normal and you think you might hate more for making your heart beat so fast. Things weren’t supposed to end up like this. You weren’t supposed to imagine your best friend kissing you breathless or taking you on a date. 
Everything’s going to fall into place, you tell yourself. You’ve already dolled up and were in the middle of spraying your perfume when Getou messaged you that he was already here. He’s relaxed in the car as you enter the car. This scene feels the same, you think to yourself, recalling the way Gojo greeted you the last time he picked you up.
“You’re wearing the shirt you wore to the party,” Getou points out and you look down at your shirt, gaping at the revelation that you’re wearing the same top Gojo told you to wear. Even with the company of another man, your subconscious still wishes he was here. 
“I didn’t even notice,” you mumble, smiling at the brown-haired male as he drives. The small talk is all natural as you two make your way to the restaurant and you’re grateful that Suguru’s such an easy person to talk with. He’s nice. Really nice and you feel almost guilty for not being as enthusiastic as you wanted to be. 
It’s only when you’re midway through the meal that he mentions it. “You’re not here.”
“What?”
“Here,” he shrugs, glancing at you with an empty smile. “You’re thinking about something else aren’t you?”
“I’m not–”
“Don’t worry I’m not mad,” he says and you know he’s telling the truth. “I’m curious. What are you thinking about?”
This makes you squirm in discomfort, a bit uneasy at how perfectly he read you. Satoru’s always made comments about Getou’s intuitive feeling for emotions and you’re starting to think he wasn’t exaggerating. “What if I don’t wanna tell you?” You joke.
“Then you’d leave me to assume,” he answers easily, the corner of his lips curling upwards. “I’m not an idiot (Name). I know when a lady’s thinking about someone else in my presence.”
When you try to protest, he only smiles. “Is it Satoru?”
Your silence is enough said. You want to deny him–want to shake your head and utter a firm “no.” But something about the question makes you lose your sense of thought and Suguru understands that too. “Are you in love with him?”
This catches your attention. “No. I like you not him.”
“Aren’t we well past the point of lying now?” He gives a good-natured chuckle. “If you liked me then you wouldn’t have looked at your phone so many times as if you were expecting a call.”
You widen your eyes. “I’m sorry I didn’t mean to–”
“Nah I’m really not mad,” he sighs. “But I’m interested in why you didn’t decline my offer for a date.”
You’re silent for a while, musing over his words. “When you called me, Satoru and I were about to kiss. Or well–at least I think we were about to kiss.
“So why’d you pick it up? I know Satoru enough to know that a call from me isn’t enough to make him stop with whatever he’s doing,” he raises a brow and you catch a roll of his eyes as he remembers something. 
“It’s because he was the one who was setting us up together.”
Suguru makes a sound of confusion, nodding at you to continue. You take a big breath. “I asked Satoru to help me get with you.”
Getou makes a “o’ with his mouth, nodding in consideration as he processes your words. His pity makes you feel small and you’re finally experiencing the impact tenfold. “Oh (Name).”
“Yeah,” you shrug. “So now I’m pretty sure I messed up the friendship because I was stupid and he’s never gonna like me back–”
“That’s not true,” he stops you, taking a sip from his wine. “Satoru’s different around you.”
“Well that’s because I’ve known him for a while now.”
“Maybe. But he doesn’t go out of his way to help people like he does with you. Even an idiot could notice that.”
“That doesn’t mean he likes me back–”
“You don’t know that yet,” he retorts, that smile of his returning again. “Just like I didn’t know you were in love with my best friend the entire time.”
You wince, swallowing as you peer up at him. You know he didn’t intend for the comment to burn but a small part of you thinks he did it on purpose. The sight of you sulking brings a wider grin to play on his face. “Relax. I’m only playing with you,” he pauses. “I’m a bit jealous that Satoru's got such a cute girl in love with him though.” 
His teasing makes you laugh. “What if he doesn’t love her back?”
“Then he’d be an idiot,” he says, giving you a look as he asks for the bill. “If he breaks your heart you know who to go to. I’d be happy to have you for myself.”
You roll your eyes, smiling softly when he coyly smiles. Suguru was kind enough to offer to drop you off at your place but you told him you wanted to see Satoru—bringing a surprised look on the brown-haired male’s face. You’re not sure how apparent it was, but you reeked of anxiety and Suguru was quick to point it out.
“I’ll wait for you,” he says nonchalantly, shooing you with his hand once you stare at him in bewilderment. “Go. Just do me a favor and message me when you guys are gonna get uh intimate.”
“We’re not—“ you click your tongue at his grin. You thank him, rushing to Satoru’s flat—the sound of your heels clicking against the floor. 
If you were in a movie, there would be dramatic music playing in the background—perhaps orchestra or a sappy love song. The scene was so cliche but you’re understanding why the protagonists always ran: it was love. You were in love with Gojo Satoru. 
You ring his doorbell, fixing your hair as you ready yourself to see him—mentally preparing the script of your confession. Please be home, please be home, please—
The door opens and a plethora of blue looks back at you, the surprise evident in them. You visibly brighten, smiling as you see him. “Satoru I—“
“Satoru?” another voice says from behind him—the voice evidently female. You freeze, feeling as if this image was in slow motion as you see a glimpse of a girl behind Satoru. Your eyes flit to both of them, the speech you prepared in your head drying up like a sore. “Who’s this?”
You hate that you can only watch. “It’s just a friend. Why don’t you go back inside for a bit, yeah?”
She’s so pretty, it hurts. There wasn’t a speck of imperfection on her and the need to curl up in a ball never felt stronger. The girl nods at Satoru, glancing at you in curiosity as she leaves you two alone. 
You think you might hate a little bit for looking at you in concern. “Is there something wrong? Are you okay? If something—“
“No. Nothing’s wrong I’m just—“ you say, wishing your voice was louder at this moment. You avoid his eyes, fearing that you’d end up crying in front of him if you continued to stare at him. “I need to go.” 
“What? But you just got here—“
“I don’t know why I came here. This was a mistake and I—“ you sigh shakily, turning on your heel to leave. 
Satoru grabs you by the wrist, his gaze soft as he shakes his head when he sees you try to pry his hand off of you. “Just tell me what I can do—“
“Suguru’s waiting for me,” you say quickly, ignoring the way his face drops. “He’s outside right now.” 
You hold your breath the moment his hand slowly slips off your wrist, taking a few steps back as you make your way outside. Not once do you turn back as you try your best to hold the tears in—ultimately failing as they fall as quickly as they appear. 
By the time you reach Suguru’s car, your make-up is already ruined. At first, he snaps his head back at you with a smile, the curve of lips quickly disappearing as he sees your lip trembling. “No?”
“No,” you confirm, sitting back into the car and wiping your tears with a tissue he hands you. There’s no words spoken between you two as he starts the car, a heavy sigh escaping his lips. Ironically, you listen to the soundtrack of “The Other Woman” playing in his car and he’s quick to change the song. He clears his throat.
“I didn’t think he was that stupid,” he says after some time, signaling right as he reaches the stop light. 
“He wasn’t,” you murmur. “I was the stupid one for thinking that we could be more than friends.”
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After the ordeal a couple nights ago, you’re not even ashamed that you’re blatantly avoiding Gojo like the plague. You even turned off your read receipts for him which you would’ve found so petty if you didn’t feel so frantic at the sound of his name. Originally, you thought he’d put up more of a fight and be more persistent in getting your attention–only you were proven wrong when you didn’t see any of his attempts increasing. 
Disappointed, you were caught in a dilemma. You wanted this distance but craved his presence. At some point, your thoughts ran dry and you were in a slump. Were you always this bad at making up your mind?  
No. You weren’t. You didn’t think excessively hard when you decided you liked Getou and when you stopped liking him. Nor did you think super hard about your other crushes. Gojo made your brain hurt and if this was love, you’re not sure you really liked it; but it felt so nice to think about how it would feel to be loved by him–to have him kiss you. 
Which is why you thought it was a great idea to avoid him because surely time makes the feelings fade. And you hope they fade fast–especially after you saw him with that girl. You bite back your jealousy at the thought of what they did together. Today was supposed to be a mental health day. It was if fate allowed you to have little to nothing to do and you were going to take advantage of it. 
The coffee house was ambient with the occasional loud laughter from groups of friends. You were halfway through your book, taking a sip from your drink as you flipped the pages. This was what you were meant for: reading novels in a cafe, keeping a low profile, and protecting your peace. 
You’re about midway through the big plot twist until you hear the sound of a chair scraping and your heart freezes in your chest when you see Gojo stare back at you. Only this time, he looks serious and even annoyed. 
“I knew I’d find you here,” he begins, tapping his finger nails on the wooden table. You don’t miss the way a few people take a few double-takes when they walk past him. So much for keeping a low profile. 
“Gojo,” you acknowledge him awkwardly, fidgeting with the pages of your book.
Your stomach does a flip when his jaw twitches and his eyes cross your face. He sighs, leaning back and adjusting his seating position. “Are you mad at me?”
“Why would I be mad at you?”
“You literally just called me Gojo,” he said and if you were more rational, you would’ve laughed at how childish he sounded over you not using his first name. 
“A lot of people call you Gojo,” you point out, still not meeting his eyes. 
“You’re not just ‘a lot of people.’ And you always call me Satoru,” he murmurs. 
You tense up. There he goes again: treating you like you’re special. It makes you confused and makes your heartbeat skip. You clear your throat. “I’m not mad at you.”
“Then why are you avoiding me?” He says, a bit loudly at that. It was unlike Gojo to attract attention to personal matters in public and the guilt hits you. You were so caught up in your own feelings that you completely ignored how he would’ve felt. Even if he only thought of you as a friend, anyone would’ve felt mad if put in the situation you put Gojo in. 
You glance at the curious gazes in the cafe, grabbing him by the hand as you pull him outside to a secluded area. You quickly drop his hand, a bit surprised that he let you even hold it. “What are you talking about?” You ask, not sure why you’re playing dumb. 
“You’re avoiding me,” he says, staring down at you. Sometimes, you forget how tall Satoru really is and how his gaze can make anyone feel small. “Did I do something to make you mad?”
You think back to him and the girl. “No you didn’t do anything.”
“Then what the hell is it?” He says, sounding more mad than you initially thought. His eyes scan over your face–observing your pursed lips and aversion from his eyes. He clicks his tongue. “Is this about the other night?”
You really wish you didn’t snap your head so fast to meet his eyes. The other night could’ve meant many things but you knew he was referring to a specific one. “No,” you say and you already know he doesn’t believe you. 
“(Name),” he says softly. “Were you jealous?” Hearing him saying it out loud makes you cringe. You shake your head adamantly, trying to muster up the courage to not break eye-contact with him. You wonder if he could hear how loud your heartbeat was. “I’m not jealous. Why would I be jealous?”
“You tell me,” he voices in that tone that tells you that he’s already figured it out. For all the years you’ve known Gojo, you’ve become well-acquainted with his habits and his mannerisms. And you knew him well enough to realize that he wasn’t going to stop with the questions until you told him the truth. 
He always did this. Always made sure to pummel the truth out of you and it didn’t matter how dirty he played. “Then why did you go to me in the first place? Didn’t you have Suguru outside waiting for you?”
“I–”
“What was so important about what you wanted to tell me that you left Suguru waiting for you? What was it and why are you so scared that you’re avoiding me?”
“It’s because I like you!” You finally say, knowing that he bested you in this game of his. The regret hits you so hard you feel like running away again. Only this, he doesn’t let you when he pulls you by the shoulder. 
“What?” He says breathlessly, his eyes wide with wonder. It’s over, you think to yourself. He’s going to hate you after this because you ruined the friendship. 
“I avoided you because I like you,” you admit quietly. “And because I saw you with that girl the other night.”
“(Name)...” 
“Stop,” you murmur, feeling the tears form. “Stop. I already know what you’re gonna say, okay? It doesn’t matter anymore.”
You shrug him off, wiping your tears with your sleeve. The plans for “protecting your peace” almost seemed silly now because you couldn’t rewind time and undo all of this. You don’t bother saying goodbye to Gojo as you take your chances in leaving. And you desperately wonder how you were going to move on from this. 
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Gojo thinks he’s in a fever dream. Your confession stunned him into oblivion and if it weren’t for your tears, he thinks he might’ve stayed in one spot for hours on end. The night you came over, Gojo already had enough on his mind. Seeing you in the flesh made him lose the logical side of his brain and his mind just replayed that night you two nearly kissed. 
He remembered being able to taste how nervous you were–how you found purchase on his shoulders as he tried his hardest not to pin you to the couch and kiss you stupid. He remembered how soft you were and how that thought would torture him for days on. 
Gojo knew what he did after was an asshole move but he thought the phone call from Suguru served as a reminder that he couldn’t have you. You two were best friends and to ruin that because he wanted you was selfish of him. He was already selfish enough to want to keep you for himself but you wanted Suguru. 
That’s why when you came to his place, he was confused. Gojo did something stupid and didn’t want the thoughts of you to keep popping up. He recalled dialing the number of some girl he stopped talking to ages ago just to not have you occupy his mind. 
When he saw your brows furrow at the sight of her, he was surprised to say the least. He ruled out the possibility of jealousy early on and just kept it as that. But now, on this chilly afternoon and in some secluded corner, you were confessing to him. 
You like him. You like him back. Sure, you didn’t love him like he loves you (or at least he thinks so) but that's besides the point. He collects himself the moment he sees the tears forming in your eyes, panic coursing through him. 
Did his silence make you misunderstand? Did you know that he was ready to scream and tell the whole world that he finally got the girl of his dreams? How he was prepared to pull you into a crushing hug and hold you like he had heaven in his arms? 
He forgot you weren’t a mind reader and it dawned on him that he caused your tears. He doesn’t want to be the guy who lets misunderstandings marinate nor does he want to be the cause of your fallout. He was going to fix this. 
If you thought he was going to let you go that easily then you severely underestimate him. Because Gojo Satoru was willing to fight for your love.
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You think you’re in some sappy k-drama when he grabs you by the wrist the second time. If you weren’t crying your eyes out, you would’ve laughed at him and he would’ve laughed with you. But there’s only a wave of frustration when he doesn’t let go. “Satoru let me go–”
“No,” he says with a deadpan and you almost think he sounds desperate. You’re about to say something but he only steps closer. “You can’t run away like you did before. That’s the easy way out–”
“I’m not–”
“You are,” he interrupts. “And I’m not gonna let you because you’re gonna listen to what I have to say.”
You’re almost reluctant to stay silent but you give in when he squeezes your wrist–as if begging you to stay. You sigh. “Fine.”
“Good,” he whispers, racking his brain for what to say. He takes a deep breath. “A while back, I said I didn’t understand how the characters from romance movies always knew what to say in moments like these. You know those super long speeches? It seemed unrealistic to me but I think I understand now.”
You let him continue, clinging onto every word that falls from his lips. “It’s so easy to say stuff like this. When you’re in love with someone, you notice the little things about them. I noticed you and you were the only thing on my mind. You still are the only thing on my mind. Do you get what I mean?”
You watch in awe as he continues, stuttering over some of his words which was so rare for him. “The night you told me you liked Suguru I was so annoyed. I’ve never gotten jealous of Suguru or anyone but I wanted to be the one that you liked. I wanted to be the one that you dressed up for and the one you smiled at. It drove me insane when you went on a date with him and I hate that I didn’t just say fuck it and steal you away sooner.”
He takes a chance to catch his breath, ruffling his hair as he finally flashes you a crooked grin–a mix of embarrassed and boyish. “That girl you saw me with…I never did anything with her,” he admits and you think you might fall over from shock. “I couldn’t. I just kept thinking about you and I wanted you on my mind all the time. I didn’t want to think about anyone else and didn’t want anyone to take your place–”
“What I’m trying to say is that I’m in love with you,” he finally says. “I already said that earlier but I want to say it again. I think I’ve always loved you–even when we were kids. I think little kid me always wanted your attention. I just never knew what I felt until I realized that you weren’t mine–not mine to love. And I don’t think there’s nothing in the world that I want more than you.”
At this point, your mouth is already ready to catch flies as you listen to his ramblings about his affections. You think you might cry. Gojo’s usually not good with words but you can tell how genuine he is–how much he meant this. “Then all those times you helped me with Suguru?”
“I hated doing that,” he huffs. “I swear I was about to punch Suguru every time he called you cute.”
You laugh, feeling jittery all over. “Would you?”
“I’m a bit worried that you like that idea a bit too much.”
You grin, shrugging. “Maybe a little. I guess I should tell you that I really wanted you to kiss me when we were on the couch.”
“You did?” He practically beams, cupping your face with his hand. You feel your stomach do twists when his thumb grazes the skin of your cheek softly, as if this was always normal. 
“And I should probably tell you that I love you too,” you say firmly, gaining a rush of confidence. “And you should probably kiss me right now.”
The smile on his face might just be the prettiest thing you’ve seen in the world. He leans in, cupping your face as he presses his lips against yours. The way he holds you makes you feel safe and you think you might love him a little more when he moves his hand to your neck. 
You break the kiss. “Does this mean we’re dating now?”
He laughs. “Do I need to kiss you again for you to say yes?” 
When you nod, he pulls you in again and again. And if this was his way of asking, you’d say yes each time. 
2K notes · View notes
hellfirenacht · 3 months
Text
Candygram
Summary: It's Valentine's day and you shoot your shot with Eddie by sending him a Candygram.
Tags: Eddie Munson x Reader, fluff, sfw
4.8k Words Master List
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“Just do it.”  Robin said, following your line of sight to the booth in the corner of the Hawkins cafeteria. It was a simple table with a red cloth thrown over it and a handmade banner that read ‘CANDYGRAMS $1’ and was decorated with tacky hearts. 
Every time you glanced over at the booth, your heart would start pounding and your stomach would twist in knots. You had never considered yourself to be shy before, when you first moved to Hawkins a few years ago, Robin had joked that you didn’t need a welcome wagon because you had thrown yourself into band and had introduced yourself to everyone with ease. 
You had masked your anxiety over being the new kid with an overinflated sense of confidence and it had worked out really well for you until you caught feelings for the freak who sat next to you in remedial science. 
“I think... I would rather chug formaldehyde.” you said slowly, staring so hard at the offensively pink and red booth that Robin was sure it was going to catch flames. 
“Either go up there and buy a candygram or I’m going to do it for you.” Robin said. “If I have to hear you waffle about this for one more day I’m gonna rip my hair out.” 
“But if I send him one, then he might actually acknowledge me and realize I might have something resembling a feeling for him, and that’s just not really cool, you know? Goes against my chill and mysterious personality.” you said, leaning back on your chair with a cocky grin. 
“Last night I saw you and Steve cry over Bambi.” Robin deadpans. 
“Okay, so we were drunk and also shut up.” you snorted, rubbing your face. 
“How are you going to know if there’s anything there if you don’t even take the chance?” Robin scolds. “Come one, I’ve seen the way you look at him. I’m surprised the whole school doesn’t know-”
“Again, cool and mysterious personality.” you tried again. 
“Plus I know he’s just as weird as you.” Robin continued, ignoring you. “I mean, last week I saw him get Jason Carver to back off one of the freshmen by pretending to exercise a demon out of him!”
You stared at Robin for a beat before thunking your head on the lunch table. “I’m going to marry him. Holy shit, he actually tried to expel the demon lurking in Carver?” You were laughing at the thought. 
During your first senior year and his second, Eddie Munson had caught your eye when you had the same lunch period. He was loud and energetic and so fucking weird you couldn’t help but to be drawn to him. Had your parents not forced you to stick with band, you would have considered joining Hellfire. Unfortunately even with this last go-round as a super senior, they still made you stick with it despite your senioritis reaching terminal levels.
You never had a good opportunity to talk to him, and the more time passed the harder it became to justify just randomly approaching him. This semester you finally had your opportunity when you’d been put in the same class and sitting next to each other no less. Still, the most you’d been able to say was “yeah, sure” when he’d asked you for a pencil once. 
Four weeks sitting next to Eddie, and you had barely spoken to him while noticing every little thing about him. He read a lot in class when he could get away with it, and doodled in his notebooks constantly, especially dice and dragons seemed to be the biggest theme. His school notebook wasn’t nearly as filled in as his Hellfire notebook, and he was always fidgeting in class. He also didn’t talk much, and at least once a week he’d end up falling asleep in class with his head in his hand. 
“There’s not gonna be a wedding if you can’t even talk to the guy.” Robin said. “He’s not even scary! Dustin comes in to talk to Steve all the time about Hellfire. He’s just a dork.”
“I know and that’s the problem.” your voice was a strangled laugh mixed with a groan. 
“You showed up the first day of band and introduced yourself to everyone, even if they weren’t in your section. What is the hold up with you talking to Eddie?” Robin pried. 
“Because back then, it didn’t matter.” You looked over at Robin, poking at your mystery meat. “When I first got here it didn’t matter if anyone liked me or not. I was only supposed to be in this school for a few months and then graduate. Then I didn’t. I could handle it if someone didn’t like me. None of you were really supposed to matter to me. No offense.”
Thankfully, Robin didn’t seem offended. “You were just making nice with the inmates until parole.” she joked and you nodded. 
“Yup, and then when I realized that I was going to have to actually have a full other year of school, that meant that I was going to have to care if I was ever gonna graduate.” You continued. “Luckily you saw through all my bullshit bravado and started dragging me to movie nights with you and Steve.” 
“Yeah yeah, we love friendship. So what does any of this have to do with Eddie?” Robin said, not needing you to explain the backstory that she had been present for. 
“It means that with Mr. Munson, I unfortunately, care so fucking much what he thinks of me.” you relented. “He’s the biggest freak in school, and the dorkiest loser, and if I try and talk to him and he’s not interested in talking back I won’t be able to take it. Robin, I will simply lay down and be dead for the rest of my life.”
“That’s not how that works, you can’t be dead for the rest of your life.” She shook her head, her brows furrowed. “Because if you’re dead then... you’re not alive”
“Schrodinger's corpse then. Alive and dead at the same time.” 
“Look, just send him the stupid candygram. The worst he can do is say no.” She stood up from the table and grabbed your hand. “Let’s go.”
And that’s how you ended up at the booth, jotting down Eddie’s name on a piece of paper and shoving a few quarters in the till with Robin looking smug. “I doubt he’s ever gotten one anyway, if anything he should be thrilled that someone wanted to send him one.”
“If this kills me, Steve’s in charge of the music at my funeral.” you sighed. 
---
Candygrams were being handed out and delivered through the week. You weren’t paying attention to what period they were supposed to be handed out, and so when two students in obnoxious heart shirts and fake wings burst into your science class with Eddie right next to you, you were about ready to throw yourself out a window. 
No one was surprised when Janet and Charlie were tossed a few candygrams, but everyone’s head whipped around when the red heart shaped lollipop and card was set on Eddie Munson’s desk. Eddie himself seemed more surprised than anyone. 
He had the lollipop in his mouth before he even opened the note attached and you were seconds away from bolting out the door. With any luck, maybe he didn’t know your name even after weeks of sitting next to each other. 
“Who’s it from, freak?” asked Patrick, the basketball jock who sat a few rows ahead. That earned a few snickers from the class. 
“It’s from your mom.” Eddie said without missing a beat and taking out the lollipop. “Tell her I say thanks.”
More laughter from the class as Patrick stood up as if ready to fight, but the teacher quickly told him to sit down. 
Shit, this wasn’t supposed to happen. You felt a bit guilty that your candygram had kicked up a fuss, but at least Eddie didn’t out you as the person who sent it to him. In fact he wasn’t looking over at you at all. 
You watched him out of the corner of your eye as he flipped the card around, as if looking for something. All that was written was his name and “YOU’RE SWEET!” written in cheesy font and his name scribbled in your handwriting. 
And nothing else. 
You didn’t know if you should laugh or cry at your stupidity. You’d been so jumbled and nervous that you’d forgotten to sign the damn thing. Robin was gonna have a field day with this one. 
Eddie kept fidgeting with the card through the rest of class, twisting it and bending it until it was as crumpled and torn as your heart felt. He shoved it in his pocket and didn’t even glance at you as the bell rang and he stood up and tossed the eaten lollipop stick in the trash. 
It’s not personal. You told yourself. He has no idea who sent it to him.
That’s when you had a horrible idea, so stupid it might actually work. 
---
“Explain how this is going to work again?” Robin asked. “You’re going to keep sending him lollipops this week until he notices you?” 
“Sort of.” you said, buying another candygram. “I’ll just send him a few joke ones as a feeler and if he responds positively I’ll come clean. If not, I keep my dignity. It’s a win-win.”
“Since when do you care about your dignity?” Robin sorted. 
“Since I caught feelings for the least dignified guy in school, I guess.” You knew it was stupid, you knew it was ridiculous, but you already messed up once so you might as well lean into it. You scribbled his name down, this time signing it with a satisfied giggle. “This is so dumb.”
Oh, but it was so worth it. You had bought it before school started, guaranteeing that it’d be delivered the same day, handing over a crisp dollar to Nancy Wheeler who had volunteered for the booth. If Eddie had been surprised the first time, he looked almost shocked now.
Eddie, sorry I forgot to sign the first one! This card said, once again not giving away any sign of who it was actually from. You saw his eye sparkle in amusement as he ate his lollipop, and this time the card was read over a few times before being carefully tucked into his dungeon master notebook. 
By the third day, the novelty of Eddie Munson getting candygrams had worn off with the rest of your class, but Eddie’s grin only grew wider each time. 
“Anything for me, Cupid?” Eddie asked as the student council members walked back in to hand out more lollipops. 
He whooped as another one was dropped on his desk and he snatched up the card quickly and you had to cover your face and bite your lip to stop yourself from giggling at his excitement. 
Eddie, sorry I’m so bad at remembering to sign these things! I just get way too excited about sending them out that I lose focus. So anyway this card is actually from-
You had carefully spaced out your writing on the small rectangle of paper so that it left absolutely no room for you to sign your name. Eddie looked downright giddy as he read the note over and over. Seeing him so happy made your stomach burst into butterflies and even if he decided after this he wasn’t interested, this was enough. Knowing that he was smiling because of you was enough. 
Someone said your name and you looked up, surprised to see one of the student council members standing next to you and handing you a candygram. Your eyebrows shot up as you took it with a thanks and opened up the card. 
Who had sent one to you? You’d been so wrapped up in your little scheme you didn’t even consider that someone would try and send you one either. 
A smile tugged at your lips as you saw your name and a small drawing of what looked like an egg in a nest as the sender. Robin, of course. Probably making fun of you for sending candygrams to Eddie without signing either. 
You tucked the candygram in your own notebook safely and dared a glance over at Eddie again. You hadn’t expected for him to be looking back at you, and your heart jumped in your chest. He unwrapped his lollipop and lifted it slightly as if he was trying to toast. You held yours up as well to him, an off sense of camaraderie between two people who had their day temporarily disturbed for commercialized love. 
Thursday came around, Valentine's day proper, but they’d be doing one last day of candygrams on Friday as well. This was a fundraiser after all, and capitalism trumps any semblance of real sincerity. Well, you said that but that wasn’t exactly going to stop you from continuing your little plan. 
Today was the day you were going to pull out the big guns. You handed over a full $5 to have a carnation sent to Eddie, as well as a return to sender card to Robin for being a good friend. 
“Shouldn’t he be the one sending you a flower?” Nancy asked, handing you the card to write on. You wondered how Nancy had time for all of the extracurricular activities she had going on, working with the student council and the school newspaper. 
You just shrugged at the question, not realizing how wide you were smiling or how obviously warm your cheeks were. To anyone with two eyes, you were glowing and to anyone with one eye, you were phosphorescent. 
The disinterest that your classmates had from the last two rounds perked back up with a flower was delivered to Eddie that afternoon. 
“For little old me?” Eddie said, batting his eyelashes at the delivery boy as he took the carnation. You giggled to yourself as he opened the card again. 
Man, I’m bad at this aren’t I? Don’t worry, this time I’m writing very small so I have room to sign this card. Seeing you light up when these get delivered has made my whole week, and totally worth it. Anyway this is from- 
To be fair, you had actually signed your name this time. However this time you had made an attempt to erase it with one of those erasers. The horrible stiff ones that only made big smudges and made the mistake worse and nearly tore through the paper. You had carefully looked at your smudged signature for a long time before deciding it was illegible enough to send. 
Eddie faked a swoon in his seat, nearly toppling over onto the floor. “Come on!” he laughed, pushing himself back upright, smiling with his whole face. He looked over the note again, something clicking in his brain and you quickly looked down at the book you were currently pretending to read. 
“It’s someone in here.” you heard him mutter to himself and your heart started pounding in your chest. You focused on your breathing to try and stop yourself from giggling and giving yourself away. 
“Stop sending yourself stuff, Munson. It’s pathetic.” Patrick called out. 
“If you wanted me to be your Valentine, sweetheart, all you had to do was ask nicely.” Eddie said, but he sounded distracted as his eyes scanned the room for any hint of who this mysterious person is. “And next time, I’m more than happy with just the lollipop, it’s saving me on smokes.”
You didn’t even notice the lollipop on your desk until class had started back up. Unfolding the card you smiled to yourself, seeing that it was from Robin again. This time the egg in the nest had a crack in it and seemed to be hatching. You’d ask her about it later. 
Nothing said during the rest of class even registered with you, every word was in one ear and out the other. This had been a fun week sending Eddie all the lollipops and flowers but tomorrow was the last day to have something sent to him. 
Were you going to sign your name? That’s the million dollar question. You had told Robin that you would if Eddie seemed interested, and he had made it clear he was enjoying the attention. 
But would he still enjoy the attention if he learned it was from you? You two weren’t exactly friends, but not complete strangers either. He didn’t seem to dislike you, after all he’d raised a toast with you with your lollipops the other day. 
Well, if you were gonna put yourself out there, you were gonna do it on your own terms.
“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Robin said that Friday morning as you dropped a handful of ones on the table for one last hurrah. 
“Nope, I’ve committed.” you said, taking the small stack of cards and getting to work. 
“I’m going to have you committed.” Robin shook her head. “I mean, this is actually insane, you know that right? There’s no reason to go through all this trouble, when you could just talk to him.”
“Oh, but where’s the fun in that, Buckley?” you asked, as you added one letter of your name to each of the cards. “Gotta make him work for it.”
“So you’re gonna give him a Valentine's themed word jumble as your big sign off?” 
“Yup.” you confirmed, adding his name to each of the cards. He’d get them all in one go and then it’s up to him to unscramble your name and figure it out. 
After that... well, the ball is in his court. 
Besides, if he liked the lollipops enough that he’d reach for one instead of a cigarette then that’s good enough. 
“You’re such a weirdo. You deserve each other.” Robin went on. “The Weirdo and the Freak. It’s like Beauty and the Beast except.. Not.”
“Robin, don’t you know three languages?” you snorted finishing up your stack and handing them over to be sent. “You are so much smarter than me, but this is where you lose words?”
“It’s Friday and I haven’t had coffee.” she pointed out. “Oh, thanks for sending me one by the way.”
“Yeah, of course. I mean you sent me one so I wasn’t gonna leave you hanging.” you nudged her playfully. 
“I didn’t send you one.” Robin looked at you, confused. 
“What?” You reached into your backpack and pulled out the notebook where you had placed the card and handed it to her. “But that’s a robin’s egg...?”
“It’s an egg, probably.” Robin agreed. “But I’m broke. I didn’t send any out.” 
You stared at the card with new eyes. If she didn’t send it, then who did?
---
“Holy shit.” Eddie muttered as a bag of lollipops was dumped on his desk with no rhyme or reason, earning a round of laughter and snickers from the class. The teacher had long since given up on trying to keep the class’s attention when the Cupid’s showed up. 
He sorted through the cards, a puzzled expression on his face as he looked at the different letters on the cards until he found one that had real words on it. 
Figure it out, Sucker <3 Eddie’s face was a wonderful mixture of amusement, bewilderment, and mild offense. 
One of the Cupid’s handed you another two lollipops as well. One was actually signed by one of your friends in band, and the other had another doodle of an egg. This time the egg was completely hatched and there was some sort of weird bird flying off. 
Not a robin. You decided, trying to figure out what it was supposed to be. 
You barely paid attention in class for the rest of the hour, your attention split between the three egg Valentines you received and the man next to you. Eddie had pulled out his Dungeon Master notebook to try and decode your message. You felt flattered that he was using his favored notebook to try and figure out your puzzle. 
Eddie was sucking on one of the lollipops diligently as he scribbled down random letters. Now that you thought about it, you’d never seen him look so studious in class before. You wondered if this is what he looked like when he was working on his campaigns and your brain decided to give you a treat of a daydream where the two of you were sitting around in your room while he explained his campaign and how he’d love to have someone like you join Hellfire-
It was three minutes before the bell, and that meant just a few minutes until your last period and the weekend. With Valentine’s day falling in the middle of the week, most of your friends were going to be off doing things with their partners. Maybe you, Robin, and Steve- no wait, Steve actually got dates. Robin worked on the weekend. 
Maybe Eddie- NOPE. Not going there, you were not about to get your hopes up for this. 
You glanced over at him again, looking at his notebook to see if he was anywhere close to decoding your name. Eddie had the worst handwriting you’d ever seen and so you would be surprised if he could even figure out his own notes. Between unjumbling your letters, he had started doodling in the margins. You assumed that they were D&D monsters from the look of it, since none of them looked like actual animals except for the bats in the corner. 
The only other thing you recognized was a dragon, drawn in a larger scale on the side of the page. It’s wings were expanded and it was flying off, and from this angle it looked like a weird...
It looked like some bird
Some sort of weird bird
Your head snapped back down to the card in front of you. This wasn’t a weird bird. It was a dragon. A dragon hatching from an egg. An egg that hatched a dragon. A dragon that was drawn with the same pose as the one in Eddie’s notebook. Eddie’s notebook had your dragon no wait, your card had his dragon-
Eddie Munson had sent you the cards. 
Eddie had-
“Oh.” You said out loud. You were nearly fighting back hysterical laughter at this, and you pressed your hands against your face, with your shoulder shaking with repressed laughter. 
Why the hell had Eddie sent you those cards? The two of you had barely spoken to each other!
 You did the same damn thing, dipshit. You reminded yourself. In fact you had gone way harder than he had. But what did this MEAN? 
The bell rang and everyone scrambled to get out of the classroom, and before you could say anything, Eddie was off and running out of the classroom at the speed of light. 
What was that about?
Robin was right. If you were ever going to have a chance with him, you were going to suck it up and talk to him, even if it meant possibly embarrassing yourself. Plus, finding out why he sent you three candygrams was currently trumping any fear of rejection. Curiosity killed the cat, but at least he died satisfied. You’re pretty sure how that saying went at least. 
You knew that Eddie had Hellfire today, it was Friday and he and all of his friends had been running around in their club shirts. With a deep breath you...realized you had no idea where the hell they actually met. 
This whole thing could have been planned better, actually. 
You started walking around the school blindly for any sign of the signature baseball tee that they all wore. If you found one of them, they were sure to lead you to Eddie. God, you felt like a stalker. 
There. Long dark curls against a stark white shirt with black sleeves. Your heart leapt in your chest, and you had to make the choice now. 
“E... Eddie! Wait up!” you called out, walking quickly towards him. 
When he turned around to look at you, you felt the air disappear from your lungs. How was it possible for him to be so beautiful and why the fuck did no one in this school seem to notice? 
Eddie pulled the lollipop he’d been sucking on out of his mouth, surprised to see you. 
“Hey.” he said. “Uh... you sit next to me in class.” 
He was either playing dumb, or you were about to make an ass of yourself. But, like Robin asked, since when do you care about dignity?
You reached into your bag and pulled out the candygrams that had been sent to you and holding them out. 
To your relief he gave you a bashful smile. “Guess you caught me, huh?” he asked. “You solved my Valentine’s puzzle.” 
“I have a pretty high intelligence when I apply myself.” you said, which only made him grin wide. “But I gotta say, Munson. I’m actually a little disappointed. I mean, sadistic and scary dungeon master of the Hellfire club, and this is the best puzzle you could come up with?”
He crossed his arms and took a step towards you. “Well, I don’t know you as well as I’d like.” he said, and your stomach erupted into butterflies. “Had to start somewhere.” 
“I guess I had to be sneaky and pay attention to you to figure it out. You’re hard not to notice, you know.” you admitted, crossing your arms as well to mimic him. 
“Being The Freak means I fail most stealth checks.” he shrugged. 
“High charisma though.” you threw out there, hoping that line would land and to your delight it did.
“It’s the Munson Magic. I come by it naturally.” Eddie’s smile was so wide it was cheesy but shit, it was working on you. 
“Not great intelligence though.” you smirked at him. 
“Oh? And how do you figure that?” He looked a little offended now, and you saw his shoulder stiffen as if he was waiting for this to suddenly go south. 
“Spell my name, Eddie.” 
You could see the lightbulb go off in his mind and his eyes widened. 
“You- wait, you were the one who kept sending me the cards?” Eddie looked nothing short of bewildered and ecstatic. You had a feeling that if things went well, you wouldn’t have to worry about ever knowing what he was thinking as he wore every emotion on his sleeve. 
“Surprise?” you asked, playing with the strap of your backpack. 
Eddie licked his lips, chasing the last of the flavor of the sucker he’d been eating. He looked at you, as if searching for something, and you cut in before he had the chance to find it. 
“Do you want to hang out sometime?” you asked, a little louder than you meant to. “Like, just us.”
“Do you think you can handle a date with The Freak?” Eddie asked, standing a little straighter. “I’m sure you’ve heard the rumors, and I promise the worst of them are true.”
“Don’t threaten me with a good time, Eddie, I’ve always wanted to join Hellfire.” you smirked. “I’m sure there are worse things for a first date than sacrificing someone to Satan, or summoning demons, or joining a cult.”
“I’m a gentleman, I would never ask a lady to summon demons on the first date. That’s at least a third date activity.” Eddie held his hand to his heart and raised a hand as if making an oath. 
Oh yeah, you were going to marry him. You were already picturing proposing to him and taking him away from this town. 
“Then how about dinner at Benny’s?” you suggested. “Burgers and shakes on me and you can tell me more about Hellfire and dragons and I can give you a spelling lesson.”
Eddie ran his ringed fingers through his hair and you giggled as the rings got snagged and he struggled to untangle them. 
“It’s.. a date then.” he said, but it came out as more of a question, as if he was asking if this was really happening. 
“A date.” You agreed, handing him your number, having come prepared. 
As you began to walk away, he called out after you. 
“Wait! You said you wanted to check out Hellfire, right?” Eddie said and you turned to look at him. “I’m... I’m actually running a one shot tonight. Kind of beginner friendly enough. I don’t often do this in the middle of the semester but one of our usuals dropped out because he had a date so... we have an open seat at the table. If you think you can handle it.”
Your smile widened as you walked over to him. “I think I’ll take you up on that.”
Eddie offered his arm to you, as if he were a gentleman which you took eagerly. 
“So... how do you actually spell your name?” 
---
Dear Reader, I hope you have the easiest name to spell because that would make this fic at least 3% funnier. Also, I'm proud I got this done before Valentine's day because I never even finished my Halloween or Christmas fic. Be proud of me.
Please reblog if you enjoyed it <3
Tag List: @gagasbee, @ihaventgotaclue-really @tastefullyferal @anonymouskiwi @hellfiredarling
3K notes · View notes
silkythewriter · 3 months
Note
Heyy so weird request but could you do a vox x reader who has a kinda one sided rivalry with him in the sense every time he releases tech she'll challenge herself to make a better version
Vox with a one sided rivalry with reader!
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Warnings!: A tad tinne winne bit of angst!, sorry if he’s OOC! (˃̣̣̥ ^˂̣̣̥`)
Fandom!: Hazbin hotel!
Author note!: OOOOOO I haven’t written rivals to lovers in a bit! Hopefully it’s not too bad!
( ̄▽ ̄)💧
Summary!: One sided rivalry with are favorite TV demon (ノ ≧∀≦)ノ
❤️Written by silkythewriter Do not steal or repost on any other platform please! <3.❤️
★🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮★
“In the morning, you would gone
I'd be mourning, tryin' to hold on To
the memory of your lips God,
I'm so lovesick What have you done to me?“
★🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮★
!📺✨Vox✨📺!
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Devastated, like actually in greif
After YEARS of not even a single demon upon billions below in the forsaken place called hell could make a DENT in the empire he built. But then you came along! With all your Gezmos and trinkets! (He refuses to call them anything other then that)
He is insecure, no matter how much he puts a face on about not having a fear in the world. He dose, he’s terrified of being replaced or knocked off the top!
The first time you released something after he did he merely laughed. You? A small tiny little business? What idiot would do that!? Your product was most definitely gonna be looked over!
Or that is what he thought at first (ಡ‸ಡ)…
Soon he realized how quick your growth to fame was. And honestly had a melt down, who even were you?!
He makes back handed complements on his TV show like for example “and on recent news a new technology has been released by *insert your name/company name*, looks a bit cheap but it’s okay for their first time!”
Yea expect those a lot…
He’s use to company’s butting heads with him, but he always squashed them in under a day! If not less!, so he was bewildered when you just kept popping up everywhere. He doesn’t even know how. half of the channels in hell are owned or under his name! Or at least played on HIS tvs!.
And when he released a product only for the next day for it to get a bit over shadowed by yours he loses it. He immediately thinks your doing this on purpose, he thinks your doing this as a means to get his attention.
Will never admit it but he bought one just to break it outta rage but after a bit he understood the hype, will take this to his second death bed.
He’s never had a good look at you before maybe a small invention or gala for some of the highest company owners in hell. And let me tell you when this man saw you he was shocked, it took velvet to snap her fingers for him to get out of his trans-like-state. He’s more embarrassed then he’s ever been, not only are your products prove to be a good runner up to his but you were making min lose his breath.
He didn’t wanna believe at first before velvet confirmed it to him.
And may i say, the minute you glanced at him and gave him a charming smile while waving your hand at him with a small glint of pride in your eyes, he actually had a system crashed screen as his whole system rebooted.
It wouldn’t be long till you made your way over to him trying to introduce yourself(•̀ᴗ•́)و
Honestly he couldn’t think straight until you excused yourself to talk to another business owner. He dosent understand, for all the years he’s been dead how is his heart beating so fast for you?
In denial about any feelings towards you, it can’t be! He despises you !, right?
Takes him a bit to work up the courage to talk to you again, as he introduced himself properly with as much passive aggressive charm he could muster. Only to be confused at your sweet yet passive aggressive smile as you shook his hand with such care
How can someone be so competitive yet so sweet?
We’re you trying to woo him on purpose!?(ᗒᗣᗕ)՞
He didn’t understand even though he knew your intent, and the underlying nature in your interaction. He still found it charming, and shocking at you technical level and marking tactics. He isn’t happily impressed, but he is definitely impressed, he would never show that though of course.
It always seemed no matter how much of a short time between releases you always managed to make it better he just didn’t understand how!. How did you have such short time to perfect something that he’s been working at for months!
He soon realizes out shinning you or squashing you business wasn’t gonna work. You guys were too evenly matched, it would be through pure luck that one of you would out shine the other one day and not the next. So he did the best next thing, purposed a business deal (quite reluctantly might I add)
To just merge company’s he knew your rise wouldn’t falter anytime soon.
At first you felt like this was a trick, to steal your soul or take you out while your walls were down. But he quickly explained it’d be easier to just have you work on things and share the profit (surprise, surprise)
Now you can decide weather you accept or not!
But after that meeting he would call you over for many more strictly for business meetings! Definitely not just desperate to spend time with you or anything
Even when you proposed to just, email, or text, he still declined saying he found it easier to say what he needed out loud. Definitely…. (≖ᴗ≖✿)
Sooner or later you’d catch on, or some people on the news would gossip of your “secret affairs”
You would soon confront him about this, and let me tell you this man is decent at standing under pressure in some if not most situations expect this one.
I feel like he wouldn’t admit it till MANY months later cause he’s just that stubborn
He just hates it, he hates your stupid smile, the way you make his stomach do back flips, the small glint of happiness and pride when your product is loved and bought by the millions. He hates the smile you keep even if at a rivalry with him. He hates everything about you, he hates it, he hates it so much he ends up realizing he loves it.
Yea he is one complicated man….
But once he finally admits it, and you end up giving it a shot. This guy would try to act like he wasn’t about to shut down, like his inner fans and vents weren’t about to self implode, he’d act cool and collected about it but behind closed doors he’s quite literally smiling like a dope
NOW if this were released to the public, the mess that would ensue is scandals upon scandals.
I mean! Imagine the head lines! “Two of hells most biggest company rivals now together?!”
News is fast to spreed lemme tell you that
I feel like he would rather have the relationship private but if it got out…let’s just say he wouldn’t stop it either per say (¬‿¬)
Overall! I feel like even if it was a one sided rivalry I feel like it would quickly turn to both of you butting heads. Cause to out shine the king of tech himself is quite the challenge, and you being able to do that says a lot!, he’ll be holding a grudge even into a relationship and still would get competitive here to there he would definitely still study your work to see how you improve so fast!. Still in the end of the day he’ll still dote on you behind close doors!
ପ(๑•̀ᴗ-♡ॢ)⋆*✩
★🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮★
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WOWZA THAT WAS ALOT OH MY GOSH
ヘ(。□°)ヘ
I REALLY HOPE YOU LIKE IT!!, I haven’t written rivals to lover plot in a bit BUT MY GOSH NESS ITS VERY FUN TO PLAY AROUND WITH THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR REQUESTING PLEASE COME AGAIN! O(≧▽≦)O
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wolfiesmoon · 4 months
Text
Ratted out
sometimes friends and family accidentally (or purposefully) reveal things they shouldnt :)
characters featured: Leona, Kalim, Jade, Jack
ufff idk whats wrong with me but i ended up creating an entire (unrelated to this fic) movie plan related to twst this is mentally stable activities, truly
also unrelated but the new event got me SCREAMING how do they look so good😫
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ᐟᐟ☆๋࣭ ⭑໑ Leona Kingscholar
when hanging out with your boyfriend Leona, a little lion boy suddenly jumps him and he immediately lets you go
who is this child???
"Uncle Leona!" the boy clings onto him and you can feel the annoyance eminating from Leona
it's like its own aura thats how annoyed he is🥴
so his nephew (you presume) looks to you all of a sudden and asks "who are you?" with an innocent look on his face
"I'm his lover...?" you said, a little unsure. But when you looked to Leona, he had a look of pure horror on his face...? What is even going on?????
"What?! No way, you're dating Uncle Leona?!" the kid got all excited and ran off somewhere before you could stop him
"...What have you done?" Leona hissed at you through clenched teeth, holding his forehead
you do realise you just revealed that he's dating you to the most big mouthed child in the world, right? that his whole family will know in a matter of minutes, right? that you've basically just invited yourself to every future family gathering at once, right?
and sure enough, in a few minutes he got a surprised text from his brother which he left on read 💀
"Damn brat..." he muttered under his breath, you still confused over what just happened
ᐟᐟ☆๋࣭ ⭑໑ Kalim Al-Asim
let's be real babes there is nothing for his siblings to rat him out on because he immediately told his family he was dating you
however....😈
his siblings happened to overhear a little something...
"Hey, hey." one of Kalim's younger brothers pulled your sleeve, wanting to tell you something
"yes?" you answered absentmindedly, thinking he's going to start talking about a strange thing he saw today or something
"Kalim's gonna marry you." he whispered to you, looking around to make sure no one heard
You laughed a little. "If you think so." you pat his little head
"No, he was like, asking mom if he can marry you soon. We heard it." another one of his brothers joined in after hearing the tea being spilled
"What?! Really?!" you're both extremely surprised and happy and mad at his brothers for ruining the surprise right now
oh well, what's done is done, and now you know Kalim is SERIOUS about you
that gets you thinking about wedding stuff now...🤔
What none of you know tho is that Jamil overheard all of you
"Okay, maybe we need to scrap the whole surprise wedding proposal thing..." he sighs, making a mental note of it and preparing to dissapoint poor Kalim
ᐟᐟ☆๋࣭ ⭑໑ Jade Leech
jade is like... oddly nice to you after you first meet him
you're a little wary of him considering his reputation but he hasn't done anything weird at all so... might as well accept his gifts?
one time he approaches you with jade in tow and you think absolutely nothing of it since they're together like 90% of the time anyways
"Hello there, are you enjoying your lunch?" he just sat down next to you without asking if he can at all 😔
"Uh, yeah, I suppose." you didn't really know what to tell him and it seems he doesnt know how to continue the conversation either so u just kinda... stare at eachother while Floyd casually steals a bit of ur food
"Maaaan, aren't you like, supposed to be crushing on Little Shrimpy or something? Then taaalk about stuff, I'm bored." Floyd looked bored when he saw the two of you didn't start talking about weird stuff
Jade simply smiled at you, telling you to ignore Floyd
But on the inside he was planning approximately 10 ways to... get rid of someone without others noticing
or alternatively, just beating the everloving crap out of his twin brother if the first plan is not a possibility
"Do you have a crush on me?" you wanted to know now...
"That's for you to think about." he smiled oddly eerily, but then just started talking abt something mundane 😥
ᐟᐟ☆๋࣭ ⭑໑ Jack Howl
You're visiting him for the first time because you got curious what his family is like
OF COURSE HE'S AN OLDER BROTHER IT ALL MAKES SENSE NOW
his younger siblings immediately ambushed you with their little sniffer noses as soon as you stepped in the house🤔
"Who are you?" they asked, always curious about anyone that Jack brings over
When you told them who you were, they immediately ran away to "TELL MOM" and were literally screaming that the two of you are dating so loudly that the whole neighborhood could hear
You could also hear some woman (who you presume is his mom) laughing from somewhere in the house so uhhh.... atleast she isn't mad about it?
You looked back at Jack who seemed more annoyed than anything
"Aren't you gonna... go stop them?" you asked, raising a brow.
"Nah, I was gonna tell mom I'm dating you anyways. I'm just mad that they beat me to it." he crossed his arms, huffing in annoyance
"Actually, speaking of, isn't me dating you kinda a big deal? You told me before that wolves have one partner for life." you actually got kinda nervous, i mean, you gotta impress his family good now
"It is. But I think everyone's just happy I got someone at all." Jack looked at his overly excited siblings who were still celebrating
"Wow, that's sad." you sassed him 😝
"...I shouldn't have brought you."
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quiet-out-there · 5 months
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summary: When Finnick notices how the reader's drink has been spiked with sex pollen at one of President Snows Balls, he and Peeta make a plan to save her from the special services the victors sometimes provide for the capitol. Finnick causes a distraction, while Peeta makes sure to take the reader away to safety, only the plan doesn’t go accordingly, and ends up with a sex crazed reader stuck on a closet.
Pairing: Peeta Mellark x Reader
Warnings: sexual content, slight dubious consent, fingering, lots of praise, dom!Peeta??, reader under sex pollen
Notes: This is my first attempt at a shortfic about Peeta Mellark, as I have been quite obsessed with him lately This story is a short fic with little to no plot, so, enjoy the smut ;) For any weird grammar mistake, feel free to correct me for as inglish isn't my first lenguage!
Word count: 6.6k
Giff: @xiaolanhua
Finnick cursed out loud, grabbing the attention of some of the most important and exclusive people in Panem who were nearby. They began to chuckle and whisper among themselves in return, clearly enjoying the sudden outburst of District’s four beloved victor. Peeta, on the other hand, quickly realized something was wrong, politely ending the conversation with an all too eager sponsor who was in the midst of trying to convince him to go back to her room together. She was old, caked with so much makeup her features were almost unrecognizable. Staring at her for too long made Peeta feel uneasy, as if he were in a fever dream, where everything was washed in an eerie distortion, almost normal but not quite. 
“Are you okay?” was the first thing he said once he got to Finnick’s side, standing beside one of the absurdly food collapsed tables at one of the ballrooms corners. He was holding a glass filled with sweet smelling liquor, his hand so tightly wrapped around it his knuckles were turning white. Peeta was sure it was going to burst into pieces in just a matter of seconds, so he quickly reached for Finnick’s hand, surprised to find little to no resistance as he took the glass away and set it on the table. The motion seemed to snap Finnick out of whatever trance he had been in, blinking at Peeta as if he were just now assessing his presence there.
“What?” was all he could manage to say, his eyes returning their focus to something far away, the feather of a muscle twitching as he grounded his jaw.
“What's wrong?” Peeta pushed, following the man's gaze in an attempt to understand what he was seeing that was making him so mad. Finnick had a temper, Peeta knew that, but it was always tightly concealed in that calm and easy-going facade he portrayed, his armor against everything. It took quite an effort to make him lose his composure.
“(y/n)” He answered, voice made of steel. Peeta frowned, eyes desperately trying to find what was going on, his chest tightening at the mention of your name, “They dosed her drink with an aphrodisiac powder.”
Peeta’s whole body froze, his eyes snapping back to the man beside him. 
“What do you mean aphrodisiac powder, what the hell even is that?”
But Peeta could already imagine what it meant, what they were doing it for. Anger rose in his blood like fire, pumping into his heart, beating so fast it was starting to make it hard for him to breathe -
“Finnick” He managed to get out, hand coming up to grab the man’s arm, turning him to face him.
“I recognized this man talking to Snow earlier” Finnick began, his eyes closing as one of his hands came to massage his temple, as if a piercing headache was making it hard for him to think “He is the one who arranges the customers for-,” he took a deep breath before opening his eyes to meet Peeta's wide ones “ the special services from the victors the capitol sometimes provides”
His stomach churned in a way that threatened to make Peeta vomit every expensive item of food he had ingested tonight, right on the pristine marble floor. He knew exactly what Finnick was talking about. Haymitch had told him about this business Snow ran, a way for him to further control the victors, make them pay for whatever rule breaking he deemed was done on their game, threatening their family’s life as a cost of it. But (y/n) had won fair, she had outsmarted the players, not the capitol, she didn't deserve this, she-
“I have been watching this man all evening, analyzing his moves, trying to figure out who Snow had sold to him,” Finnick continued, interrupting Peeta’s running thoughts. “It was easy enough to discover, with the way he has been practically stalking (y/n) all night.” An exasperated sigh escaped his lips “But something is different this time. He hasn't come up to talk to her and she is completely oblivious to him, as if she doesn't know what Snow has done, as if she hasn't been warned what would happen if she denies”
Her family, massacred. Peeta swallowed, his throat painfully dry all of a sudden. 
“That’s when I noticed what he was doing” Finnick’s hands bawled into fists by his sides, his eyes returning to scan the room before returning to Peeta’s, “They are drugging her, filling her with aphrodisiac poison that will make her unable to think of anything more than sex. They are making her into a puppet so they can take advantage of her, avoiding the resistance, the threats, the compromise on her part.”
“That is sick” Peeta breathed out, feeling lightheaded and utterly disgusted.
“People here in the capitol are absolutely rotten” Finnick spat, “I have been a victim of that drug before. It is so potent, it makes it physically painful to deny sex, it forces the body to need it on a primal level, triggering an almost survival instinct.” 
Peeta cringed at the thought of Finnick, barely a teen, being a subject to all this.
“We have to do something, we have to save her” Peeta rushed through whispered words, his eyes looking around them in search of anyone who could be eavesdropping on their conversation.
“Yes” Finnick agreed, “But we must do it inconspicuously, or they could end up hurting her even more.” 
“What is your plan?” Peeta’s breathing eased a little, his chest loosening at the reminder of Finnick’s clever mind. 
“Once the effects of the drugs kick in, she will quickly excuse herself to the bathroom. There, I will intercept the man, distract him. Make a big scene if I must.” The ghost of a smirk pulled at Finnick’s lips at the thought, before it was quickly wiped away as he continued “You will find (y/n) and get her the hell out of here, but not to her room. They will be probably expecting her there” Peeta shuddered at the thought, nodding at Finnick.
“Where is she now?” Peeta inquired, his eyes returning to the crowd, unable to find the girl in question.
“Near Snow’s fountain, to the left side of the room. She is talking to a man with a neon green top hat.”
Peeta found you instantly then, the loud pounding of his heart in his ears drowning any other sound. You looked so beautiful, he couldn't help to notice, with your hair pulled away from your face in an elegant updo, filled with colored jewels that caught and reflected every light on the ball room, like a beacon. Your dress was made of black jewels as well, hugging every hill and dip of your body in an exquisite way, a slit on the side of your hip revealing the tan skin of your right leg. And your smile, so bright as you laughed at some joke the man before you had uttered, it took his breath away- until he realized how your chest was moving rapidly, as if the air entering your lungs wasn't enough, at how your skin was covered in a sheen of sweet, some stray away hairs curling around the nape of your neck and around your face, and at the way your hands had begun to tremble, hiding the away by clasping them tightly behind your back.
“It is starting,” Finnick commented, straightening his shoulders as if preparing himself to move. Peeta did the same, struggling to calm his fast beating heart.
You offered the man another smile, this one polite, apologetic. The man dipped his head and moved out of your way, allowing you to begin moving into the crowd of people dancing on the dance floor, towards the other side of the room, where the bathrooms were located. Finnick nodded at Peeta, signaling to start moving the same way as you. They got to there first, and Finnick leaned forward to whisper right on Peeta’s ear, in a gesture that seemed like a warm goodbye from a friend to the ignorant eye. 
“I will go for the man, you grab (y/n) and leave right away, don't waste time on explanations until you are both alone and safe.” 
Peeta nodded, clasping his back as reassurance. He could do this, he told himself, willing his body to calm down, to gather his anxious thoughts. 
Before Finnick finally pulled away, he added in a tense, almost somber tone, so lowly his words almost got forgotten among the chattering crowd.
“Do what you must to help her, she’ll be glad it was you and not someone else.”  
Peeta’s brows furrowed in confusion, but before he could ask what Finnick meant by that, he was already being swallowed by the crowd, disappearing among the vibrant colors, the moving bodies, the discordant music that made Peeta’s teeth greet in discomfort. 
Peeta moved onto the side of the bathroom door, acting as if his shoelace had been untied and crouching down to fix it, avoiding anyone starting a conversation with him that could complicate his inconspicuous escape. 
It only took a couple of minutes before he heard your voice,
“S-Sorry, excuse me please” You sounded breathless, words tight in your throat, as if the mere effort to get them out was painful. 
Peeta got up then, instantly identifying you making your way out of the crowd in a desperate attempt to get to the bathroom. He walked up to you just as you took the door handle in your shaky hand, grabbing your wrist in a secure grip before pulling you along with him, without stopping to say anything. You gasped in shock, stumbling slightly over your feet before you could manage to keep up with his fast pace. You pulled at his hand in an attempt to be let go, but he ignored you, mind only focused on one thing-
The exit door, only a couple of steps away
 “Peeta!” you exclaimed as you finally recognized him, struggling to maintain a composure, smile wavering between a frown and a grimace of pain “What the fuck are you doing?” you whispered, feeling as though your vision was shaking, not being able to see people anymore, just shapes and colors merging together in a sickening spin-
You were going to throw up.
“I’m going to be sick” you pleaded, arm now falling limp on his firm grip, deciding to leave fate in his hands- unable to do anything to resist, and knowing deep down Peeta would never hurt you.
Peeta’s heart squeezed on his chest as he heard you, and he opened his mouth to explain -what? he did not know- anything to make you feel better, to help you understand what was going on,
But then a crushing sound vibrated across the room, making people gasp and scream in shock, their attention now focused on the other side of the room. 
Finnick
Peeta let out a sigh of relief as he got to the entrance door, which was luckily open, not a peacekeeper in sight.  He didn't waste a second to pull you out towards the main hall, where the elevator to the victor's rooms was.
“It will be alright (y/n), I promise” Peeta finally spoke, his voice just above a whisper, as he continued his way with unbreakable determination, both of your steps resonating against the glass floor the only sound in the spacious room “just trust me, okay?”
You felt as if Peeta’s voice was coming from underwater, muffled and far away- But still managed to understand.
“Okay” You replied, unable to voice any other word running through your dizzy brain - Your heart, you realized, it was beating so fast you couldn't catch a breath, and your skin, it felt so uncomfortable, so tight against your body- you wanted to rip it out. And the heat, the fucking heat
Peeta’s hand freed your wrist as he pressed the elevator’s button in a frantic pace, his other coming up to grip your hip, pushing so you stood in front of him, blocking the view of your body with his. 
You were so close now, bodies almost pressed together. His smell invaded you like the most intoxicating, addictive perfume you had ever sensed, tightening your chest in a silent hitch of breath - And his touch- so firm and strong, fingers pressing down on the overly sensitive flesh on your hip witch was barely covered in the thin material of your jeweled gown- it set flames through your veins
Peeta heard the rush of voices coming down the hall, right from where you had come, before he felt their quick heels clad steps coming closer. Whatever Finnick had done, it had set a commotion enough to make people begin to retreat to their chambers in a hurry. 
His eyes snapped to the elevator, the bright gold number still stuck on the 7th floor, and he realized it wasn't going to come by quick enough - They were already nearing the corner, they were going to catch the both of you, they were going to take you away and hurt you-
He secured your hand in his before he began to pull you further down the hall, your feet struggling to find their footing but managing not to stumble over them as you followed him. There was only one door in the hall, right on the end of it, a black metal block painted in bright gold. Peeta didn't bother to knock on it as he grabbed the handle, twisting it at the same time he pushed the side of his body on it to open it- and to his surprise and utter relief- it did. He didn't waste a second to push you inside, head twisting back one last time to see down the hall, where he noticed a couple of people beginning to appear, their vibrant colors striking against the pristine white walls and gold floor details. 
He closed the door behind him, leaving out the light from the hall, engulfing you both in complete darkness. He let out a long breath, his head dropping back against the door frame, a chuckle leaving his chest before he could stop it.
You tried to blink back the darkness, but your eyes were still struggling to adjust. Something was very wrong, you realized, as you couldn't seem to make the air from the space enter your lungs. You stepped back from the man in front of you in an attempt to gain some distance and ground yourself, but you felt the cool jab of metal meet your back- you twisted on the spot, freeing your hand from Peeta’s as you extended your arms in front of you. And you felt, to your utter horror, how on every side you were met with metal railings or the cool feeling of painted concrete walls. 
The space was tiny. A closet, of some sorts, you figured with a leap of your heart.
 “I can't” you gasped aloud, one hand coming up to clutch your chest, pulling at the absurd number of necklaces that had been wrapped around your neck- it felt as if you were choking “I can't breathe.” 
Peeta’s hands were instantly extended in search of you, his eyes wide in an attempt to see something, but only being met with darkness. 
“It is okay, hey, I’m here” He whispered, one of his hands brushing your shoulder. The contact made electricity run down your body, and you twisted in an attempt to get away from his touch, managing only to bump into the railing so hard, their contents began to fall onto the floor-
Peta cursed under his breath at the loud sound of stuff crashing against the glass floor, his heart drumming onto his chest as he felt the footsteps from outside alarmingly close. 
“Hey, hey calm down” He tried again, his hand grabbing your shoulder this time. And you tried to twist away again, desperate to get away from the warmth, the heat of his body, his burning touch-
it was too much, too much 
You pushed into the railing again making it crash against the wall in a loud bang. 
“(y/n)” Peeta rushed, his voice tight on his chest in anxiousness. But you didn't hear him, wouldn't hear him, needing to get away, desperately trying to do so-
Peeta felt the voices outside begin to wonder what those noises down the hall were, their loud cackling dimming down as if to hear better. He knew it was only a matter of seconds before somebody came up to investigate,
“Calm down” He ordered, voice low, almost a murmur. You could feel it vibrating on your chest, “We have to stay quiet, or they will find us.”
You tried to reason with his words, to obey, to understand what the fuck was going on - but then a pang of pain shot down your belly, taking the air from your lungs in a rush of a breath, before settling in a tight coil of aching between your legs. It made a whine fall from your lips before you could stop it, eyes closing as you hugged your body tightly.
Peeta’s heart stopped when he felt nearing footsteps, arms shooting forward when he heard your loud whine of pain at the same time, determined now to make you quiet. One hand found your hip as the other your arm, and he didn't waste a second to twist your bodies, so you stood with your back pressed to his chest. One of his strong arms circled your waist, locking you into him in a grip so tight you couldn't move an inch, as his other hand came to your face, palm pressing onto your mouth to silence any noise. 
And just like that, your senses cleared, they sharpened, they focused and circled on only one thing-
Him.
The way his warm body was pressed to yours, the feeling of his strong muscled arm wrapped around your waist, the way his chest pushed against you in every intake of breath, the feeling of his heart pounding so loud and fast against your back- and his god damn smell, so sweet and dark and intoxicating- it made the coil deep within your core tighten painfully, breath hitching on your throat.   
Peeta strained his ear to hear whatever was going on outside, the footsteps stopping just inches away, its shadow casting beneath the door frame. But it was so hard to concentrate on anything else that the way for body felt pressed to his - so warm he thought you might be having a fever-  and the way you were breathing so hard and fast, you were panting against his hand- but he could notice, he could see how much you were trying to do as he said, to stay still and be quiet, even if you were in so much discomfort 
“That’s it, calm down” He whispered, lowering his head so his lips were pressed to your ear, making sure only you could hear him. “You are doing so good” he praised, the words warm against your skin. 
The way he phrased those words was enough to make a shiver run through your spine and make your head spin with desire. You hadn't noticed the way you had begun to press further onto him, almost as if desperate to be closer, to feel him even further. And his hand, his fucking hand had begun to rub the side of your waist in a comforting way,
You were melting. But you wanted more, you needed more-
Peeta tried to ignore the way you had begun to move against him, how your breathing had changed to something deeper, how your mouth let slip little whines and moans against his hand. He knew it was the drug's effect, he knew you couldn't help it, he knew he had to maintain a clear head, to take care of you and make sure you stayed safe.
And then you felt it, as you ground your body against his, you felt something hard begin to press against your ass. It made something in you snap, a need so desperate and maddening, it made fire rush through your veins as if boiling from the inside out- it made your brain drunk and fuzzy with desire- and the pain, the excruciating coil tightening between your legs, it was too much, too much.    
Peeta felt your hand suddenly grip his, moving his arm away from your hip. He felt almost in a daze, as if unable to stop you as you moved it down your body. His breath hitched in your ear as you pressed his hand right between your legs, where you needed him the most. The thin material of your jeweled gown was the only thing standing between his fingers and your pussy- he could feel how warm you were, and cursed aloud when he noticed also how wet. 
“We can't” He whispered; voice slightly breaking as he felt you increase the pressure of his fingers “They have drugged you with an aphrodisiac. You are not thinking straight-”  
A moan slipped through your lips, muffled by his hand still pressed against your mouth. Peeta's eyes strained on the doorframe, noticing the shadow gone. He almost sighed in relief, until he felt the loud chuckles coming from outside-
they were still there.
Your brain couldn't comprehend anything else but the need for him. A need that was becoming so strong, the pain was unbearable. You could feel tears swell in your eyes as you gasped, your other hand coming up to push away his own from your mouth. 
“Please, Peeta, I can't take this anymore- I” you choked on a whine when you felt his other hand slip from away from your body “-I need you, please, just help me.”
You pleaded, head dropping back against his shoulder in utter defeat. 
Peeta cursed again, eyes tightening shut as he searched for the will to contain himself, to find a way to reason with you, to make you understand how this was so wrong-
But then he remembered Finnick's words. ‘Do what you must to help her,’ what did he even mean? Was this the only way you could go through this? You would hate him for it, Peeta thought, taking advantage of you like this- but you were in pain, you were literally crying and shaking in his arms, he couldn't stand seeing you like this, it was breaking him-
“Please” you whined, your own hand coming between your legs to relieve some of the pressure there in a futile attempt- you felt absolutely nothing.
“Okay” he murmured against your ear, telling it more to himself than to you, making up his mind. “How can I help you, (y/n), just tell me how.” 
You sigh in relief at his words, closing your eyes in anticipation.
“Touch me” you whispered, breathless “Please.”
Peeta felt lightheaded with the way you were so desperate, so needy for him. In any other circumstance, he would have given away with the first please ever uttered from your beautiful lips- because you were always so composed, so strong, so unwavering- hearing you like this was making him almost as desperate for you as you were for him.
“Please what?” Peeta couldn't help to reply, his voice just as breathless as yours, beginning to move his arms, tentatively resting his hands on your hips.
You groaned in frustration, beginning to push yourself away from him so you could turn around to face him when you felt one of his strong hands spread across your abdomen, pushing you right back against him. He was so strong, you couldn't help but think, imagining his hands pushing and pulling other parts, handling you as if it were nothing-
“Please, Peeta” you begged.
Peeta melted at the sound of those tight words in your throat.
“So polite” he praised, finally moving one hand to the side of your hip where the slit of your gown began. His callous warm fingers met your bare skin there and you sighed in content “Such a good girl” he whispered, mouth pressing down just below your right earlobe, in that sensitive spot that felt to good it sent tingles down your body and made you moan out loud before you could stop it-
Peeta’s other hand instantly moved to cover your mouth once again, roughly pushing your head back against his shoulder. 
“What was that?” A woman’s voice exclaimed from the hall outside, filled with delight “Sounds like someone’s having a good time!”
Peeta cursed on your ear, the words sounding even more coarse coming out of his mouth. 
You whimpered, unable to take the pain between your legs any longer- your heart was beating so fast, it seemed as if you couldn't catch your breath, your skin so taut you thought it might snap over your bones, and the heat- you thought you might pass out 
“Shh it’s okay” Peeta tried to calm you, his eyes glued to the shadows now outside of your door. Had they figured someone was inside here? “Be quiet doll, you can do it.”
You nodded your head in a haze, desperate to show him you would do anything he said. 
Peeta knew you couldn't take it any longer, practically limp in his arms, trembling in his grip. He took in a shaky deep breath before he began to move the hand on your hip underneath the surprisingly thin material of your gown. Your skin was so smooth and soft, and so, so warm- Peeta had to take a minute to just caress between your hip and upper thigh, savoring the feeling of your tender flesh beneath his rough fingers - before he heard your impatient cry from within his hand covering your mouth. His heart skipped a beat when he noticed the shadows beneath the door begin to move away, using the courage to finally dip his fingers between your thighs. His breath hitched when he noticed you didn't have anything under your gown, being met with your bare pussy right beneath his finger, hand freezing in place as the realization of what he was doing, and to whom, dawned on him.
He was about to fuck (y/n), districts four beloved 73rd hunger games victor.
“You are killing me” you mumbled against his palm, desperately pushing your hips forward in an attempt to increase the pressure of his fingers where you needed him most. So, he dipped his hand further, his muscled arm tensing over your belly as he did, bringing you flushed against him. And his fingers, ever so slowly, began to part your folds, his eyes closing as his head dropped down to lean on your shoulders at the feeling of your slick coating his fingers, smoothing his entrance. You bit his hand in an attempt to quiet the moan bubbling on your chest, head pushing back against his shoulder in an attempt to get a grip on yourself.
“So good” he murmured, lips tightly pressed to your ear “So good, so quiet.” 
You could feel your eyes roll to the back of your head as he began to rub your wetness up and down, right over the bundle of nerves that send electric waves of pleasure down your body. One of your hands came down to grip his arm, pushing it down with further force- Peeta instantly knew what you wanted, what it meant- and he obliged, increasing the pressure and pace of his fingers. 
The people outside began to cheer for something, the noise followed by clapping. Peeta didn't waste a second to remove his hand against your mouth, moving it down to your chin as he pushed your head further back, adjusting so his ear was right over your mouth-
“Let me hear you doll” He breathed, his fingers quickening their pace almost desperately so- feeling so good it made your toes curl and your thighs squeeze around his hand. And you moaned, so desperate and needy it would have embarrassed you if it weren't for the fact that that was exactly how you felt for him. 
“Peeta” you choked out in a gasp right on his ear, and that was enough to make Peeta lose his mind, a low groan escaping from his own lips, the sound so deep and hoarse it vibrated on his chest.
You could feel his erection pressed on your backside, so hard you knew we wanted you just as much at the moment. And you wanted to feel him, God, it was all you could have ever wanted, so you started to move your hand to your back- until you felt his hand suddenly stop, making you freeze in place. You could hear his ragged breathing, feel his heart pounding against your back-
“Look at me,” He whispered, interrupting the sudden silence. You opened your eyes, surprised to notice how they had adjusted to the darkness, able to see the outlines of the door, the metal railing filled with cleaning supplies- you were in fact, in a closet. And then you looked up, finding his beautiful face before you. 
He was so handsome; you had noticed that the first time you saw him. With his big, deep brown eyes and breathtaking smile. And now, with his messy blonde hair, his parted soft lips, his completely darkened eyes-
He looked delicious.
“You are absolutely beautiful” he murmured, the hand on your chin moving up to cup the side of your face. “(y/n)” he continued, a deep breath leaving his lips, fanning your own. You wanted to taste him so badly “You are not on your right mind, this is not what you want.”
You shook your head, exasperated.
“I want you so badly” you voiced in a shuddering breath “If you don't touch me right now, I think I might die.”
You used his stun position to free from his grasp, finally turning so you were face to face. He looked completely disheveled, his white tux discarded on the floor, and his matching shirt completely wrinkled, the first buttons torn and revealing a slit of tanned skin. 
“I-” He began but you couldn't resist any longer, shutting him up with a kiss. 
His hands were on you instantly, pulling at your hips to position you flush against him, to then wrap his arms around your waist to lock you in place. Your hand snaked to the back of his head, where you tangled them on his hair, slightly pulling it just to hear him groan again- it felt like fuel to the fire inside you. You used the moment to deepen the kiss, meeting his warm tongue inside his mouth. The kiss was desperate, hungry, lips moving feverishly against each other.
Peeta forgot about everything else, about the people on the other side of the door, about getting caught- he could only think about you, about feeling you against him, your lips on his, your tongue on his mouth- he wanted more. His hands began to roam your body, testing, feeling, kneading your soft flesh in a grip so strong you knew would certainly leave bruises. And then they were on your ass, squeezing so tight you moaned against his mouth- and he was lifting you up from the ground, your legs wrapping around his waist-
“I need you” You panted against his lips, finally breaking the kiss. The coil in your lower stomach feeling even more unbearable, the pain was making you see white dots in the corner of your vision “I need you inside me.”
Peeta leaned his forehead to yours, attempting to regain control of himself, to think straight. He sat your body against the railing, separating enough so he could see your face, meet your eyes.
And he stared at you, almost in awe before he spoke again, dropping his head back as if to force himself to stop doing it any longer.
“Your eyes” he breathed out, “they shine so black when you are hot for me.” 
You cupped his face between your warm hands, forcing him to face you as you once again begged-
“please”
Peeta wanted nothing more than to oblige - he would have lifted your gown and fucked you right there against the railings- but he knew he couldn’t. He couldn't, not when you were under the effects of a drug that altered your senses, your reasoning.   
So, he compromised. Not doing anything was torture to you, or so he told himself, moving so one of his arms could fit between both of your bodies while the other began to lift your gown and gather it just over your hips. 
“Are you going to be a good girl and stay quiet?” He panted, his ears once again registering the commotion outside. Seemed like they moved the party to the hall, he realized, glad that the noise had gone louder, hiding what was going on in the little storage closet down the corridor.
“Yes” you whimpered, unable to contain the tears swelling in your eyes due to the pain, and the excitement- 
Such a wreck for him, Peeta thought, brain drunk in desire.
“You are the one killing me, (y/n)” he murmured, holding your gaze with eyes so intense you thought he might be looking through you. 
And then his hand was between your legs again, slowly rubbing your wet folds, surprised at how they were more so than before. He quicken up the pace faster this time, taking his time in enjoying every sinful sound falling from your lips, your head falling back to lean against the railing- you gasped when you felt his other hand grip your chin, thumb and index finger pressing against your cheeks and forcing you to open your eyes
“Look at me” he panted, and you thought you might cum just by the way he was looking at you with so much hunger-
And then you gasped in shock as without a warning two of his fingers slipped inside you, his thumb continuing to rub on your sensitive clit. Pleasure shocked through your body making you involuntary shake against the rails, the pressure on your lower abdomen coiling impossibly tighter-
“I'm gonna-” you whined, head leaning forward to try and find somewhere to lean on, but Peeta’s grip held you there on place, forcing you to face him. 
“Say please” He breathed, lips hovering over yours, his fingers moving in and out of you with the perfect pressure, the perfect pace, and his thumb-
“Peeta” you whimpered.
He could feel how close you were, how your walls clenched around his fingers in the most delicious way- he thought he was close himself to climax, just by the way your face scrunched with pleasure, how your body became undone under his touch-
“Come on doll, ask nicely” He encouraged, needing to hear you beg, just one more time.
 “Please” you managed moan.
And he was merciless about it, plunging his fingers into you harder, faster, his thumb rubbing against your clit feverishly, curling his fingers and hitting just the perfect spot-
You become undone with his name on your lips, waves of pleasure erupting from deep within your tummy as the tight coil finally released, toes curling and body jerking. He slowed the pace of his fingers as he continued to ride you out of your orgasm, your shaking body finally collapsing into his, blind with gratification and exhaustion.
Peeta panted against your ear as he finally removed his fingers from inside you, proceeding to hold you tight against him before he lowered you from the railing back onto your feet- until he quickly realized you couldn't stand on your own, arms wrapping securely around your waist and across your back to hold you in place, your own coming up to snake around his neck in a solid embrace.
“Are you alright?” He whispered, his breathing still ragged, heart pounding loudly against your chest pressed to his- you on the other hand, were completely crashing, blood pressure dropping, white stars dancing in the back of your close eyelids. 
“hmm” you hummed, struggling to remain conscious.
“I think they left” Peeta voiced his thoughts, frowning in concentration as he listened for any noise outside- but it was completely quiet, he soon realized. 
You didn’t know what the hell he was talking about, brain completely fogged with satisfaction, body finally out of pain and completely relaxed on his arms, as if meant to be there all along.
“(y/n)” Peeta shook you, his tone finally above a whisper “Hey, I need you to stay here yeah? stay with me.”
You tried to nod but your head just fell limp against his shoulder-
He smelled so fucking good.
“Thank you?” He replied, amusement clear on his breathless words.
You hadn't realized you had voiced your thoughts out loud, a soft chuckle scaping your lips.
“You are completely out of it, aren't you” He sighed, leaning over you so he rested his chin on top of your head, attempting to calm himself down.
You frowned at the height difference, moving your feet, and realizing you were barefoot, heels completely lost somewhere in the tiny closet.
Once Peeta finally could catch his breath, heart in a slightly normal pace, he stepped closer to the door, your almost limp body secure in his strong arms. He pushed the side of his face flat against the cool metal, concentrating on identifying any sound that could indicate someone on the other side but-
Nothing. Silence.
“Okay” He murmured, nodding “Okay, we are going to come out, yes?”
You mumbled a reply, what? you didn't know, but it was enough to make Peeta nod again. You felt him loosen his grip on you making you react on clinging to him with all your strength, desperate to avoid the loss of contact.
“Hey, I’m here, I won't leave you” He assured you, hands pushing you by the hips to create some space between the two- and you were so completely weak, barely registering your body at all, that you couldn't avoid the separation. 
You frowned, opening your mouth to try and object, when you were suddenly being lifted from the ground and up on his arms again, this time in bridal style, with one of his arms holding under your knees as the other secured around your back. 
“Romantic” you gushed, chuckling again.
Peeta rolled his eyes, sheepish smile tugging at his lips, as he adjusted his body so his hand could twist the handle and open the door. He loosens a breath he didn't know had been holding as he registered the hall with quick assessing eyes, noticing it completely deserted.
You tried to blink at the sudden light, but it took just a couple of blinks before your eyes dropped closed again, as if the weight of them was impossible to overcome. 
“Your room is not safe” He murmured, beginning to make his way to the elevator with you tightly held on to his arms “We will go to mine.”
You nodded, the pull of unconsciousness so strong you were sure it was only a matter of seconds before you were out- so you snuggled closer to him, wrapping your arms across his neck and positioning your face right at the nape of his neck, where his smell washed over you and his warmth seeped to your skin.
And just like that, you were out with a content smile plastered on your face.
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punkitt-is-here · 7 months
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LIFE UPDATE!!!! RAGHHH!!!
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Okay, so, as some of y'all know, I was fired from my job a couple of months ago. I reapplied, and unfortunately, despite getting an interview, I was turned down. Because of that, I'm going full-time as a self-employed artist. This means I'll be focusing on making fun stuff for my shop, learning better how to ship out items, and doubling down on doing more commissions.
As some of my wonderful commissioners know, I struggle a lot with deadlines and motivation. I have ADHD and even though I'm medicated, it still often gets in my way and kicks my ass often. It's part of why I have such a big struggle when doing commissions; they're hard to motivate myself to do and sometimes require a lot of communication back and forth that I'm just not the best at right now. I would like to say thanks to everyone that's put up with my inability to figure out a decent schedule for commission work, and hopefully everyone who's tried to get art from me will get their stuff very soon!
SO, uh, now that I don't really have a job, what's that mean? Well, I'm going to set a goal to actually make good on my promises for commissionwork. I tend to actually get a lot done in bursts, but they come and go, so I'm going to try and do weekly commissions but with much smaller slots. What I'll be doing is upping the frequency while also limiting the amount I get per-week so I can have a form of consistency with my output. That way, both parties are satisfied and I don't have to keep beating myself up for taking my time because I kept convincing myself I had a big-ass workload I couldn't chip away at.
Part of how I'll be doing this is acting like I still have a job. I'm gonna set aside work hours in the week to specifically work on commissions and shipping and interfacing with clients. I depend on the kindness and goodwill of my incredible followers, so the last thing I really want to do is tarnish that (at least any more than I have; apologies to everyone who's put up with me learning how to run a shop!). I think I'm at a point where I understand a lot of my limitations and abilities, and so I hope going forward I can begin to create a routine for myself and be able to make this something I can do far into the future! If you'd like to support me while I do this wacky lil thing, i've got a ko-fi and now a Patreon! (which I will link in my reblog since I heard Patreon links are weird here on tumblr.) I'm really excited to be launching a patreon. I can't guarantee any specific type of content, but the plan is just to show tiny little previews of stuff early if you're a supporter and stuff like this. I've never had anything of this kind, so I ask for your patience as I work stuff out, but if you feel like supporting me on either platform it'd mean the world to me. Thanks :)
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f1goat · 2 months
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more than friends ; lando norris + part three
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In which your best friend is going to help you to gain more sexual experience and say goodbye to your insecurities, but he's quick to discover that he never wants to share you and your new experiences with others - the only problem being, him having to confess his feelings.
masterlist - playlist
fem!y/n x lando norris
warnings: smut with a plot. minors dni! probably grammar or spelling errors due to english not being my first language.
requested: yes, based on this request: something with a driver sister that’s still a virgin & lando (her bestfriend) suggests to teach her things
a/n: this is a rewritten story, you can find the explanation on my profile
part one / part two
When you wake up, you feel something unfamiliar pressing on your ass. You wonder what it is. Did something strange happen last night what you can’t remember right now? It can’t be. Lando is pressed up against you. He’s still sleeping and letting out soft snores. It takes you a few seconds before it clicks. It’s Lando his boner that’s pressing against your ass. That must be it, right? Carefully you move a bit so you can grab your phone of the nightstand next to the bed. After grabbing your phone, you switch back to your earlier position. Lando his boner is still pressed up against your body. Is it weird that you kinda like that? Maybe it is. It’s probably weird.
Lando grunts softly. You realize that he’s also waking up. Do you need to adres this situation? You decide to stay silent first. Lando moves himself even closer towards you. He presses soft kisses against the crook of your neck. You shiver from his sudden touch. Yesterday night you asked yourself the same, but you still haven’t found your answer. Is this the new normal between Lando and you? Kissing each other good morning like this? Having even more physical contact then ever before? 
Lando and you have always been rather physical, but not like this. It’s not for nothing that Max jokes between things happening between you two or that a part of the formula one grid thinks that Lando and you are in a relationship instead of being just friends. But still, it hasn’t been like this. Of course there have always been hugs and laying closely on the coach together, or you sitting on Lando his lap was pretty normal - just like sleeping in the same bed, but things have never been sexual or included kisses. 
Eventually you turn yourself around to face Lando. He puts his arm around your body and pulls you almost on top of himself. You let your head rest on his chest, feeling yourself getting calm while listening to his heart beat. 
“Good morning babygirl,” Lando greets you with a raspy morning voice. 
“Hey,” you mumble back.
You feel Lando his member pressing against your stomach. It’s not making you feel uncomfortable, but it makes you mind wander off to all kinds of things. Should you ask him about it? You never noticed it when you slept over before. But now that you think of it, Lando was always wide awake before you. It happened many times that he already showered before you even woke up. And you weren’t that close with him back then, the two of you didn’t cuddle like this. 
Lando lets out a soft groan when he feels your body moving on top of him. He knows that his dick is hard right now, he can feel his boner throbbing and aching for your attention right now. He almost slaps himself. Why did he forget to set his alarm? Normally he always makes sure to wake up before you, exactly so he can stop you from finding things like this. It happened countless times that he thought about the most unattractive things, just to stop thinking about you and feeling turned on. He even needed a couple cold showers sometimes. 
“Want to get some breakfast?” Lando asks you. He really needs to get out of this bed and think about other things then the sounds you made for him last night. 
“Uh, yeah,” you reply softly, “That’s okay.”
Lando sees right trough you. “What are you thinking about?” He asks you with his same raspy voice as before. You can’t help yourself and find his raspy voice kinda hot. Oops? 
“Isn’t it uncomfortable?” You question almost so soft that Lando can’t hear your question. 
“What?” He asks you confused.
“You erm,” you stutter a bit before you get the words out, “your boner.”
Lando chuckles. “Nothing new,” he tells you without any shame, “a cold shower will help.”
You don’t think about your next words. “Maybe I can help?” You ask Lando. He stays silent at first, rethinking your words. Are you serious? Or are you only offering because he ‘helped’ you last night? Before he can make up his mind, you’re talking to him again. “I mean uh, I think I also need to learn this, right?” You question. 
“Do you want to?” Lando asks you. 
“Yes,” you reply quickly.
Lando lets out another soft chuckle. It almost looks like you’re eager to do it. He takes your hand into his own. Slowly he guides it towards to the area were his sweatpants are the most tight. Eventually he puts your hand right on his crotch. You move your hand around a bit to explore the way everything feels. Suddenly you feel his dick harden a bit more under your touch. It causes you to show Lando a small smile. In the meantime you continue your movements. With soft touches you explore Lando his hard member.
Eventually you wonder what to do next. “Can you uh, tell me what to do?” You ask Lando nervously after a bit of doubting. 
“Continue like this, but with a bit more pressure,” he instructs you. 
Why is your pussy clenching when he talks to you like this? Your stomach tightens when Lando instructs you. What is he doing to you?
You do exactly what Lando says. He is quick to reward you with a soft moan. It’s the first time you hear a sound like this from him and it’s doing even more to you. He doesn’t say something else, so you guess that what you’re doing is alright for now. 
“Can you grab it?” Lando asks you.
Without replying to his question you grab his boner. His sweatpants and briefs are still on, but you can properly feel him now. It feels nice in your hands. Without seeing his member you already imagine him fucking you with it. You also realize that he feels quite thick. 
“Stroke babygirl,” Lando continues to instruct you.
Slowly you start to stroke Lando his dick. You make sure that your hand is wrapped around it properly. Lando lets out a hard moan when you grab his boner a bit more firm then before. You increase your pace in the mean time. 
“You’re a natural,” he tells you before pressing multiple kisses against your cheek. You move your head a bit so Lando can kiss you properly on the lips. Something he’s quick to do. When you open your lips for the tiniest bit, Lando is already begging for entrance. It doesn’t take long before your tongues are dancing around each other. While making out with Lando, you’re still focused on stroking his dick as good as you can. When you feel a soft vibration against your lips, you realize that it’s another moan from Lando. You pull back from the kiss. Lando is quick to let out a couple moans. He moans even more then before. You continue your movements proudly. 
“Fuck baby,” he groans.
You increase the pace of your movements again. Lando his dick is pulsing in your hand. It motivates you to grab him even tighter. Lando lets out another moan. This time even harder then before. It makes your pussy clench. It can’t be right that this does so much for you as well. 
You remember how your friends were always whining about having to do ‘stuff’ for their boyfriends, they never seemed to enjoy it. Always making remarks about having to do something before they earned something back. You can’t even imagine thinking about it like that. When Lando lets out another soft moan, you know for sure. You can do this for a long time before growing bored of it. Every time Lando moans you feel proud of yourself, but also feel yourself getting turned on as well. 
“Fuck Y/N,” Lando grunts.
Then you feel a bit of wetness through his sweatpants. Does that mean what you think it does? Did you make Lando cum? You slow down your movements and loosen you grip on his dick. You notices the way it softens a bit. Lando softly grabs your hand and moves it to his chest. 
“You’re sure you never did that before?” Lando asks you a bit surprised. He can’t imagine that you never did something like this before. Of course he has been worked up since he picked you up from that night with your friends. He haven’t spend much time thinking about anything else then you. But still. This hasn’t happened to him before.
You shake your head at his questions. Of course you have never done something like this before. You wonder where his question is coming from. “You’re a real natural,” Lando praises you. It makes your stomach tighten again. 
“Yeah?” You ask. You need to make sure that you heard him right. 
“I’ve never cum into my pants,” Lando confesses with a small smile, “so yeah, you’re really good at this babygirl.”
You smile. Lando pulls you on top of him. Of course he notices your happy smile. “You like hearing that?” He asks you. You look into Lando his eyes, you can never agree with yourself on which color they are. Sometimes you think green, other times blue. You don’t care what the exact color is, his eyes are one of your favorite things about him. You can actually lose yourself into them. Something that almost happens again, but Lando repeats his question. 
“Yeah,” you confess, “I like to hear that.”
“You know babygirl, I think you might have a praise kink,” Lando tells you without giving it a second thought. He is pretty sure about his own conclusion. Every time he praises you, you react to it. 
“What’s a kink?” You ask him innocently. 
“That’s a lesson that’s still pretty far away,” Lando reacts with a soft laugh. 
You grunt. This is the annoying Lando who has been your best friend forever and who you can never imagine to be not in your life.
“I’m going to google it,” you tell Lando, you turn yourself around and move away from him to grab your phone. Lando has you in his hold before you can grab your phone. He makes sure you’re laying on his chest again. “Google it when I’m gone,” he replies, “I’m going to Max after breakfast to go over some Quadrant things he can do when I’m gone.”
“Okay,” you sigh. You’re still curious about what it is. 
“And tell me about which kinks you want to explore after you Googled it,” Lando adds. 
You show him a confused look. He laughs softly. 
+++
“Y/N is joining you for the whole triple header?” Max asks confused. They have talked about every task that Max needs to do for Quadrant while Lando is busy with racing. Lando might have slipped and told his friend about you joining him for the triple header, not that it’s a secret but he knows it will cause questions. 
“Yeah,” Lando replies, “isn’t that great?”
“You’re going to share hotel rooms with her for three weeks?” Max continues to ask. Lando tells him a simple yes. “Lando you can’t tell me that there’s nothing going on between you two,” Max sighs annoyed, “You’re all touchy with each other yesterday with the lunch and now you’re going to share a bed for three weeks straight? You’re lying to me.”
“We’re friends,” Lando shrugs, “Just like we’ve always been.”
“Yeah but now you’re touching her all the time,” Max states, “and she’s joining you for three weeks. Normally you invite her to one race from a triple header, so you can have stupid one night stands that never make you forget about your feelings.”
“You’re attacking me,” Lando sighs to his friend, “I know I’m acting stupid, but this is better then those one night stands right?”
“Something changed between the two of you,” Max continues without reacting to Lando his words. “And it gave you hope that she returns your feelings. Or you already know that she does and you aren’t telling me that you two are dating.”
“As if,” Lando laughs, “if we we’re dating everyone would know. It’s not like I’m going to keep something like that a secret. If we’re dating I would make sure the whole world would know.”
Max sighs, “Okay I believe now that you aren’t dating, but there’s still something going on!”
Lando sighs as well. He does want to tell Max, but he told you earlier that he wouldn’t. He can’t make up his mind about it. Eventually he takes his phone out of his pocket and starts to text you. 
Lando: can I tell max?
Lando: please
Y/N: only if he never mentions it to me
Lando: deal! Ur the best
Y/N: simp
“Why don’t you tell her about your feelings?” Max asks him after a bit of silence, “I bet she feels the same.”
“Don’t,” Lando sighs, “I’m doing something that’s way more stupid, but maybe it’s my chance.”
“What are you doing then?” Max asks, “It can’t be good to talk about with no one.”
“I can tell you,” Lando confesses, “but you can never mention it to anyone else, including Y/N.”
“Deal,” Max quickly replies. 
“We’re having sex,” Lando blurts out. “Fuck no, not like that,” he quickly continues. Max shows him a confused look, this is probably not what he expected. “Uh, she was drunk and told me that she was still a virgin and that she was afraid that guys wouldn’t like that. But then I tried to tell her that they would probably like that, but she didn’t believe me. Then she said that she was going to find some random guy to lose her virginity to and get some experience, which I found the worst idea. So I kinda offered to help her to gain experience?” 
“Wait what?” Max asks confused.
“I’m helping her to be more confident about sex by giving her the experience, that’s it. We haven’t fucked, yet, but we’re exploring the other stuff..”
“You’re so fucking stupid,” Max states. 
“I know,” Lando exclaims, “but I really couldn’t think about her doing that with someone else.”
“How do you think this will end?” Max asks Lando, he doesn’t wait for an answer and continues to speak up. “This will only make you fall harder for her, if that’s even possible. You have this crush on her for years and now you’re going to fuck with her. Which will make your crush way worse. But you’re still to stubborn to tell her about that, so she will never know and will never tell you that she feels the same because she’s also fucking stubborn. And then you have made her more confident so she can find another boy more easily.”
“Do you think she’s going to find another boy?” Lando asks nervously. Max sighs, of course that’s the part his friend reacts to first.
“Lando, there are plenty boys who are interested in her,” Max states, “You know how many attention she always got when we went out together. It can’t be long before she starts to date someone.”
“But she never dated someone before,” Lando states.
“Yeah because apparently she was insecure about her sexual experience,” Max sighs annoyed, why doesn’t his friend get it? “And now you’re giving her that missing confidence, so she will probably date faster. So in the end, you’re fucking things up for yourself.”
“Fuuuuuck,” Lando almost yells when the realization hits him. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he grunts annoyed with himself. Why didn’t he think about this? Probably because the only thing doing his thinking lately is his dick instead of his brains. 
“You’re such an idiot,” Max states, “but maybe we can think about something that will fix this?” 
“Like what? I really fucked it up this time.”
“Like telling her about her feelings,” Max states.
“No!” Lando yells. “What if I lose her for good when I’m doing that? I rather have her in my life with another guy then not at all.”
+++
Lando is waiting in front of your apartment for you. He just carried your luggage down and loaded it into his car. He didn’t knew it would be this much, so his McLaren is fuller then ever before. It’s a good thing that he lives close to you. You were in the car with him, but then you reminded about something small that you forgot. So you’re getting it.
Lando almost laughs when you show up with a small stuffed animal and take your seat next to him. He shows you a small smile when you tell him that you can’t leave the stuffed animal alone for three weeks. Then it hits him. It isn’t just a stuffed animal. It’s the small white teddy bear he gave you many years ago. He can remember giving it to you after you were upset about having nothing to do on Valentines day. But that must be more then two years ago. Lando feels a warm feeling inside of him. He never knew that the stuffed animal was this important for you. 
“You still have that bear?” He asks you.
“Of course!” You exclaim, “You gave it to me. It’s my first Valentines present ever.”
“That’s cute,” Lando says. He makes a mental note to impress you this year with Valentines day. 
You watch outside the car windows. It’s a weird feeling to leave Monaco for three weeks straight. This night you will sleep at Lando his apartment, so you can leave to the airport together early in the morning. 
“Maybe we can finish that movie from yesterday?” Lando suggests.
“We might have to start again,” you confess, “I don’t even know anymore which movie we were watching.”
Lando chuckles, “Am I that distracting?” He asks you. 
“You’re becoming more distracting every day,” you sigh while looking at Lando. 
“In a good way?” He asks you.
“The best way.”
Later that night Lando and you are laying on the couch. The movie is boring. You feel your mind shift focus between the movie and Lando over and over again. Eventually you just stick with thinking about Lando. Certainly when his hand is laying closely to your ass.
“Did you Google..” Lando can’t even finish his question before you interrupt him.
“I want to know your kinks first before I embarrass myself,” you state.
Lando chuckles. “You don’t need to feel ashamed for any of them,” he tells you, “Everyone has different kinks.”
“Still, I first want to hear yours.”
“You don’t have to do anything with them if you don’t like it,” he tells you, “What we’re doing is focused on you, so don’t think you have to do something you’re not comfortable with.”
“Thanks Lan,” you say softly, to add power behind your words you press a soft kiss against his cheek. “But who knows, maybe we share some kinks,” you laugh. 
“I’m going straight in,” Lando confesses, “but I like to dominate, nothing too extreme but I do like to be the one in charge.”
You show him a small nod.
“I didn’t experience with it much,” he continues, “since not everyone is into it, which is fine, but I do want to explore it more one day.”
“Explore it with me,” you softly say. 
“Oh?” Lando asks you. He waits for you to explain yourself. 
“I uh,” you start, but you’re quick to stutter a bit before confessing what’s on your mind, “I think I’d like to uhm, be dominated.” 
Lando feels his dick harden when he hears your words. Fuck, this is everything he could wish for. He needs you for himself. How great would it be for the two of you to be together, officially, and explore things like this together? He already had a small feeling that there was a possibility that you’d like to be dominated, but he wasn’t sure. Hearing it makes him feel all kind of things. 
“Do you want to explore that together?” Lando asks you. 
“Yes,” you are quick to tell him. 
“I’ll add it to the teaching plan,” Lando jokes.
“More kinks?” You ask Lando. 
“Curious babygirl?” Lando asks you back. You can only nod. “There’s plenty I’d like to explore one day, but most of them are in line with the first one,” he explains.
“I think you were right about what you said earlier,” you tell Lando, “I do like it when you praise me.”
“When I praise you or when someone praises you?” Lando asks you, he can’t stop himself from asking that question. 
“I never noticed it before,” you confess, “So maybe just when you praise me?”
Lando almost lets out a moan from only hearing that. His dick is properly aching for your attention right now. 
“You’ll be the death of me,” he mutters.
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loveinhawkins · 10 months
Text
Steve’s bat bites start to bleed again during the drive out of The War Zone.
It’s a slow realisation, a creeping dampness on his skin.
He stays as still as he can, keeps his movements small and contained when turning the steering wheel; he thinks he mostly gets away with it, manages to park the RV and pitch his voice on just the right side of normal as he tells the kids to scram.
Awareness of his surroundings grows a little fuzzy around the edges, but he senses enough to know that he’s alone—the silence feels heavy, makes his ears ring.
He lifts himself up out of his seat, one hand clinging onto the headrest for balance. The ringing gets sharper, more high-pitched; he shakes his head to try and clear it.
One step forward, then another, and another.
There’s a slight rocking motion under his feet. It feels a little like he’s in a boat that’s docked, constant movement even in the gentlest of waters.
His palms brush against the bathroom door.
“Okay,” Steve whispers to himself.
He hangs onto the sink to keep himself upright—feels the room sway, as if the waters underneath have suddenly become stormy.
With one hand, he finds the knot in the bandage.
“Okay, okay…”
Pulls.
Steve doesn’t think he blacks out, not quite, but there’s a shift, a dizzying tilt… and then, somehow, he’s sitting on the closed toilet seat.
And…
The bat bites must cause hallucinations or something.
Otherwise, Steve cannot explain why Eddie—who notoriously threw up and passed out during a dissection in Biology—is currently pressing a clean bandage against his stomach, staring down at the blood like he can’t look away.
“You’re good, you’re good,” Eddie’s saying.
He’s clearly trying to sound calm, but it’s just coming out strained, like what he really means is this is all a fucking nightmare actually, but we’ve gotta find something to be optimistic about.
“Think it just needs some more pressure,” he goes on. “Yeah, there, see? It’s stopping. Oh, thank God.”
Steve feels more gauze getting wrapped around his middle—if he wasn’t injured, it’d almost be a nice sensation, Eddie’s touch somehow the perfect mix of both firm and gentle.
As he works, Eddie hums nervously.
“Talk to me Harrington,” he says in a shaky sing-song. “Come on, don’t leave me hanging, man, gimme some awkward small talk. Got any hopes? Dreams? Anything I should know?
Oh, so many things, Steve thinks, still light-headed.
But then he really does mull that over: his mind goes to The Upside Down, to belatedly telling Eddie about the hive mind, and oh shit.
“Hey, weird question,” Steve says, “but I’ve not been, like, asking you to make it cold in here or, um, anything like that?”
Eddie blinks. “Uh. No?”
“Okay.” Before he lets the relief of hearing Eddie’s answer sink in, Steve adds, “If I ever do, you need to lock me in here and get out. Tell Nancy.”
Eddie’s staring at him like he’s grown a second head. “Sure. Cool. Cool! Uh, for any particular reason or—?”
“Just in case—like, I don’t feel any different, but—one time, Will Byers, when he was in The Upside Down it, like, infected him? Like a virus. Except more… possession. And they had to kinda… burn it outta him.”
“Ha,” Eddie says. A beat. “Oh fuck, you’re serious.”
“I really don’t have the energy to be messing with you, dude.”
“Sorry. Sometimes you all just say things, y’know? And if I don’t get it, I’m like, well, they’ve been living through this for a while, maybe they’ve got a code going on.”
“I mean,” Steve says, “we kinda do.”
Eddie shakes his head. “So when Buckley said she dealt with a human-flesh-based monster, and the one before that was smoke-related, that wasn’t just, like, a really fucked up metaphor?” Eddie’s eyes are wide, pleading. “Please say it was a metaphor.”
“Sorry,” Steve says sincerely.
Eddie sighs through a lacklustre chuckle. “You’re fine, Steve. As for, uh, being possessed, I don’t think so. You’re no weirder than usual, but—”
“Wow, thanks. Means such a lot coming from you.”
“—you were a bit, like, out of it for a few seconds, but it just looked like you were gonna faint on me. Um. How’re you feeling now?”
“Good,” Steve says. When Eddie raises an eyebrow, he tacks on, ���As good as I can be, I guess. Still.” He groans slightly as he stands, goes back over to the sink. “Better check.”
“Check? What?”
Steve runs the water as hot as it will possibly go, until the steam is evident. He sticks his hand right into the stream, hears Eddie hiss as the water scalds his skin.
“Okay, yup. Not possessed.”
“Fucking fantastic. Now I want it cold,” Eddie says.
He takes control of the faucet, nods for Steve to put his hand under the now cold water.
After a minute or two, Eddie sighs and collapses onto the toilet seat himself.
There’s a squeak as Steve turns the faucet off—his skin’s probably not had the good of the cold water for nearly long enough, but it’ll do.
Eddie’s tipped his head back so he’s facing the ceiling, eyes closed. Steve watches him with sympathy; he really must hate blood.
“Eddie. You can go.”
“Mm, nope,” Eddie says without opening his eyes. “I’m fine right here.”
“Suit yourself.”
Steve turns back to the sink, frowns at the tiny mirror above it; there’s black spots on the glass, but he can make out enough. Christ, the bags under his eyes are horrific.
“Relax, Casanova,” Eddie says, almost as if he’s heard Steve’s thoughts. “You look good.”
“Uh-huh. Think your brain’s fried from being on the run.”
Steve leans against the sink with one hip, finds Eddie looking at him with a small smile.
“Yeah, probably. Or maybe being on the run just suits you.” Eddie’s eyes flicker down. His smile falters. “You know, in an ideal world,” he says conversationally, “you’d be in a hospital getting stitches.”
Steve scoffs. “In an ideal world, I’d be in bed sleeping.”
“Amen to that,” Eddie says lightly. But he still looks sombre. “Seriously, though. If it gets… you know. I’d drive you.”
“To the hospital? What are you gonna do, Eddie, wander up to the front desk? Sounds like a real interesting way to get arrested.”
But Eddie doesn’t leap at the chance to make a joke.
“Steve,” he says softly. “I mean it. I wouldn’t care.”
“That would sorta ruin the whole priority of hiding you.”
“That’s—” Eddie huffs. “That’s not the priority.”
“Huh, that’s funny, cause it is in my book.” Steve nods at the door, to his whole world just outside. “One of many.”
Eddie’s eyes narrow. “And your name better be right at the top, Harrington.”
Steve hums.
“In bold. Underlined.”
“Whatever you say.”
Eddie groans quietly, runs a hand down his face. “You worry me, man.”
“I’m not trying to.”
“I know. Just…” Eddie hesitates. “Don’t go off alone. You know?”
Steve thinks it over. He steps forward and offers Eddie his hand.
Eddie takes it.
When Steve pulls him up, he stumbles a little, as if he feels like he’s on a boat, too.
“Oops, sorry.” He grabs onto Steve’s forearm for balance. “Think this should be the other way round, man.”
“Hmm, I don’t think so.”
Steve leads the way out of the bathroom—doesn’t mention the fact that, really, they’re both holding each other up.
There’s a bottle of water left in the back. Steve twists the cap off. Drinks.
“You too,” he tells Eddie.
“Huh?”
Steve considers him—thinks of the little flare of panic he felt when watching Eddie walk through the woods, tiptoeing around vines. How he had a sudden instinct to catch up to him, to make sure he wasn’t alone.
“I’m making a deal,” Steve says. “I won’t go off alone if you don’t.”
He lifts the bottle up as if making a toast—drinks again then passes it over to Eddie.
For the slightest of moments, their fingers brush; Eddie’s rings skim over Steve’s knuckles.
“So what’s this?” Eddie asks. “Legally binding magical water?”
Steve shrugs. “Cool metaphor,” he replies.
You say you just turn heel and run, Eddie. But sometimes I think if there was a fire, you’d run towards the flames if it meant no-one else got hurt.
Eddie smiles. Tilts the bottle towards Steve.
“Guess it’s a promise, then,” he says.
He drinks.
Steve prays that it holds.
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