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#but yeah um of course as all of you should know by now I love my surfing sunshine man so much!
mins-fins · 13 hours
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OH FUCK YOU CUPID! [PREVIEW].
❝may the best man win!❞
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SYNOPSIS: where resident "cupid" zhong chenle wants to cause mayhem, and maybe start a fight too, so he sets up three of the most competitive guys he knows with none other than you. now— they are at each other's throat trying to get your attention, and also score a date with you.
PAIRING: lee jeno, lee donghyuck, & na jaemin x male!reader
GENRE: university au, romantic comedy, sort of matchmaker au??, actually theres angst too, three stubborn boys fight over a very confused one, 00z (besides renjun) going insane over a MAN
WARNINGS: swearing, explicit language, unrealistic romantic situations, childish behavior, somewhat possessive behavior, mentions of sex but no smut, mentions of drinking, an abuse of italics, lots of date crashing
WORD COUNT: 1.5k (preview) | est. 12k–15k (full fic)
NOTES: if you can forgive me for not updating for like two days, take this as my little apology 🙁 yeah so this spawned out of ANOTHER draft i began that hasn't been touched since december, but i reread it and i just sort of changed up the synopsis and love interests!! yeah anyway this is isa's multi-pairing debut, but this is also only a preview, the real thing is much more messy! i can't promise WHEN it's going to come out because i genuinely do have a lot going on.. but it is halfway done! um yeah tysm for waiting for me!! alright bye😖
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YOU HAVE NEVER BEEN CONFUSED LIKE YOU ARE NOW. when you heard a knock on your door, accompanied by the sound of two muffled voices bickering behind it, you expected it to be one of your classmates, chenle and jisung coming to ask for another stupid favor, or your lab partner coming to get extra notes for your project. you usually don't let people into your dorm after six pm, mostly because after six pm is time you spend strictly studying, and you do not need distractions when you're gonna be up all night losing sleep.
but no, none of that, you guess you aren't that good at predicting your fate.
when you open the door, rubbing your eyes, which hurt from the hours you spent staring down several biology papers, you pause at the sight before you.
there are three boys there, two of them going back and forth whilst one stands silent between them. their arguing must distract them enough that they don't notice you standing in the doorway, staring at the two of them like they're crazy.
"um".
why do you say um? maybe the general confusion of the situation is what makes your brain short circuit in that very moment, but you don't exactly have any actual words you can say. there is no reason these three very attractive guys should be at your doorstep at this time.
as quickly as you utter that word, you regret it, because the two formerly bickering guys turn their heads right towards you, gazes focused on you and only you.
suddenly, it feels like all of your senses heighten, your hands become sweaty, your breathing seems to become louder, and your face heats up to the point that your sure steam is going to start pouring out of your ears.
of course, you recognize the three at your doorstep, but the situation still doesn't click for you.
on the left is na jaemin, resident pretty boy na jaemin, the two of you had a political science together in your sophomore year, and while he did always seem to want to be more than friends, you chalked that up to his habit of looking like he's in love with all of his friends. his flirtatious words and romantic references never meant anything to you, because he's like that with every other pretty guy that goes to your school.
in the middle is lee jeno, class crush lee jeno, you know him because of a get together renjun forced the two of you to be apart of way back in your freshmen year, and while jeno is nothing short of beautiful, he's nothing like jaemin. jeno is less obvious in the romantic department, of course he has so many people falling at his feet, and you can't blame them. he's gorgeous, a true work of art, and the two of you have been told on certain occasions that you'd be a great couple, but nothing ever seemed to come out of that.
and on the right, lee donghyuck, star student lee donghyuck, always the top student, always wins the awards, you unfortunately know him the best out of the three, considering the two of you spent all summer together. it didn't go as well as you wanted it to, some things happened between the two of you that you don't feel like explaining right now. you haven't had a genuine talk since school began, both of you trying hard to erase that little summer fling away from your minds. you think he might be a little insane, much too smart for everyone's own good, but you can't look past his ethereal beauty either.
so what are these three doing on your doorstep on a school night?
before you can ask that exact question, donghyuck answers it for you.
"i'm here to take you out on a date".
you almost collapse onto the floor.
jaemin's eyebrows furrow, and he's quick to turn and glare at the older. "no you're not!"
"yes i am! i got here first!"
"you did not! and even if you did y/n doesn't want to go out with you—"
"i suggest you watch your tone, na".
you blink, dumbfounded at the news bestowed upon you. the two continue their back and forth argument, and your face only heats up more as it dawns on you that they're arguing about you, about taking you out on a date.
you don't know how you stand your ground.
"you too?" you barely manage the words, feeling as if you were about to pass out at any second, and you point your index finger at jeno, the most silent of the bunch.
he only nods. "i was hoping saturday..?"
"that makes no se— wait, you were hoping WHAT!?"
jaemin's screech is enough to make the once stone cold jeno flinch. a look of offense crosses the older lee's face, and any tranquility he had disappeared in an instant. "y/n and i are going out saturday".
"says who!?"
"says me?"
"he didn't even agree to your offer" donghyuck glares daggers at jeno, who imitates his gaze. he's pissed, and so is jeno, and so is jaemin, all three of them are pissed. "don't get so confident".
"it doesn't matter" jeno answers like it's a matter of a fact. "he likes me more than he does you".
"oh yeah?"
"yeah he does" jeno whispers as he leans closer to donghyuck, the words a taunting mantra to the younger, who looks seconds away from punching him. "he wouldn't go on a date with you even if you offered him a hundred dollars".
"you should really watch what you say".
"really? i'd love to see you even try and land a punc—"
"who sent you three here?"
your question is enough to get the two to stop arguing, and they slowly move away from each other. jeno pokes his tongue against the inside of cheek, and donghyuck just crosses his arms, an eye roll accompanying his action. jaemin gives the two a judgmental glance before focusing all of his attention on you again. "chenle".
"chenle?"
"well chenle told me—"
"chenle didn't tell you anything".
"how are you so sure? if i remember correctly, you said you weren't into y/n" jaemin grits his teeth, eyes pointed at donghyuck, who scoffs, humored by the words.
"since when? i'm the only one hear whose ever done anything with y/n, you're too busy around with other guys and jeno's too much of a coward to confess".
"please, coward? if you're so in love with y/n maybe you should've told him that instead of ghosting him, that's pretty cowardly behavior".
you watch the three begin going back and forth, absolutely speechless. why are they fighting over you? why did chenle tell them to come here? why does this have to happen right now?
"i— um, shit uh" you awkwardly chuckle, hoping you don't sound as pathetic as you feel. "maybe we can chat about this tomorrow yeah? yeah! right, um, goodnight!"
you don't think twice before slamming the door on their faces, locking it behind you. you slide down the door and collide with the floor, face red, thoughts all over the place, and only one sentiment echoing in your mind.
you are going to murder zhong chenle.
"great job, hyuck, you scared him off".
donghyuck finds jaemin's audacity hilarious, so hilarious he even laughs. "i scared him off? if anything jeno did!"
"i didn't do anything" jeno argues, he really doesn't how the younger is speaking to him at the moment. "your just mad y/n's gonna end up going out with me instead".
"woah woah, who said that?"
"i mean.. we all know".
"whose we?" donghyuck challenges. "because, and don't take this personally, you couldn't even confess to the guy before this, what makes you think he'll want to go on a date with you?"
"you know your really getting on my nerves right now".
"okay okay you two" jaemin curses in his mind, how did he end up being the most sensible of the three? "don't start anything physical, it's y/n's choice at the end of the day.."
"which is why it's stupid of donghyuck here to think y/n wants to go anywhere with him".
donghyuck rolls his eyes again, but instead of looking at jeno this time, he looks at jaemin. "no, he's right, it's y/n's choice, and i'm gonna do everything to make sure i'm the one he's with on saturday".
"get over yourself" jeno remarks, glancing over at your door. "your not going to end up with him".
donghyuck hums, a snicker added onto it. "alright then, watch me prove you wrong".
"i'd love to see you try".
jaemin looks between the two, oh this is bad, this is very bad, but he isn't about to let them be able to take you out before him.
"may the best man win, then" jaemin gives the two overly aggressive pats on the back before turning around and walking the other way.
he doesn't care, he's getting that date.
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selineram3421 · 2 months
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can I make a request for an Alastor x reader? Where y/n is Husk's sibling and Alastor won't stop flirting with y/n and Husk is just not having it? (And the rest of the HH crew are just in the background shipping Alastor and y/n)
*swipes up* Cat Demon Reader!!!! FUCK YEAH!
Hissy Kitty
Prologue
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Alastor X Reader
Warnings⚠
⚠ cussing, protective older brother Husk, Alastor loves annoying your brother, italics = thoughts ⚠
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Husk was very protective of you and made sure you were taken care of. In Living and afterlife, he kept you out of his "business" to keep you safe.
Of course you surprise him by showing up at the hotel.
"What the fuck are you doing here!?"
"Surprise!", you cheered and gave your older brother a hug.
He didn't want you anywhere near his work. It was too risky. You would have been made a target. He didn't want HIM to know about you.
"Answer the question.", he grumbled but hugged you back.
"I haven't seen you in a while and I just wanted to-", you began, pulling back a bit from the hug, taking a look around the hotel lobby that was behind him.
"Look, I'll call you and tell you all about it but you need to go before-", he tried to get you to leave quickly.
"Husker!"
Shit.
He was pissed that he was too late.
"What are you doing trying to chase a guest out?", the demon in red walked over and pulled you into the hotel. "We are trying to invite them in."
"This one ain't looking to stay in the hotel!", your brother hissed and tried to pull you away from the red dressed demon.
You were suddenly spun and dipped by the man in red. It shocked you so much that you held onto the red demon tightly.
"Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel! I am Alastor the facility manager.", Alastor grinned as he gazed down at you. "And who might you be?"
Such an adorable thing. He thought when seeing your ears pinned back and eyes having turned into slits, his grin widening when he noticed Husk getting angrier.
"Um..can you let me up now? This is a very weird way of greeting..", you squirmed, your tail flicking in annoyance.
After letting you go, Alastor took note of how bristled up the fur of his acquaintance was.
How interesting..
"Forgive me dear, I can get quite theatrical.", he laughed and fixed his bowtie. "And your name?"
"I'm-"
"Not staying.", Husk cut in. "They only came to see me, now back off."
"What the hell, can't I greet a demon?", you huffed.
Your brother pulls you away to speak in private.
"Not this one! This prick is someone I don't want you hanging around with.", he whispered growled, putting his hands on your shoulders. "Go home, put some wards or some shit for protection and don't come back here again!"
"Damn it Husk!", you slapped his hands away. "I came here to check up on you!"
Alastor stays where he is to enjoy the show. Glancing to the side when seeing Angel step into the lobby.
"Its been years! I haven't heard from you until two weeks ago about this place. Where have you been!? Do you know how worried I was!?"
"Psst! Smiles! Who the fuck is kitty whiskers?", the spider asks.
"Haven't the faintest idea but this argument is getting amusing.", he responds.
"I told you that I moved! That should be enough!", Husk gestured to the hotel.
"Yeah, its nice to know you're alive but you could have at least told me how you've been! Did you make any new friends? Did you drink until you blacked out again? Something else for fucks sake!", you yelled.
"I'm alive!", your brother yelled back. "I drank yesterday!", he pushed you towards the door. "I don't have friends!", he opened the door. "Now leave!"
"Tsk tsk!", Alastor tutted and used his shadows to pull you away from the door, moving you into his hold. "They are our guest, even if they are just visiting Husker~"
The Radio Demon's smile growing bigger when he saw the cat clench his fists.
"You are welcome to visit anytime to see this-", the red demon gestures to your brother. "-hissy kitty that you know."
"Ha!", you quickly covered your mouth to keep your laugh silent.
"A smile! Finally!", Alastor leaned closer to you. "I'd like to see it if you don't mind."
"Back off!", Husk pushed the red dressed demon away and took your hand. "Come on, I'll show you around."
"I can stay!?", you asked your brother.
"Only for a few hours!", he replied.
You stayed longer than a few hours.
Charlie had caught wind and was excited to meet you.
Husk drank from his bottle, watching as you talked to the Princess and Vaggie. The two were hooked on whatever story you were telling.
"So Husky~", Angel slid over.
"Don't you fucking call me that ever again.", the cat grumbled before continuing to drink.
"Who's the new cat strolling about?", the spider asked. "I've never seen you so pushy with someone before~ Are they an ex?"
"None of your business and ew. Fuck no.", Husk wiped his mouth after he finished the bottle. "Forget about them. They need to leave anyway.", he said before walking over to you.
.
"Hi Husk!", you waved as you entered the hotel.
"Fucking shit. What did you not understand about staying away!?"
You had a smug grin and pranced over to him.
"Can't really stay away from where I work~", you said and showed your employment papers.
"What.", your brother growled.
"While I was talking to the Princess during the tour, you stepped out for a bit and I told her I wanted to work here!", you beamed, cat tail swaying calmly. "So now I can't leave! Yay!"
"Are you fucking stupid!?", Husk yelled.
"Now Husker.", Alastor appeared from the shadows behind you, placing a hand on your shoulder. "That is no way to talk to your fellow coworker."
The Radio Demon smiled cheekily when seeing the cat demon's fur bristle in anger.
"Let's show you all of the staff rooms!", he said suddenly and turned you towards the stairs. "There are quite a few closets littered about for cleaning supplies! For now that is what you'll do with Niffty until the Princess can think of where to put you."
"Is there any cleaning supplies?", you asked a little suspicious.
"Haven't a clue! But let's find out!"
You were near Alastor most of the day.
Husk actually followed you both until the "tour" ended.
"And that is all of the cleaning closets so far!", the red man grinned.
All of you were now standing in one of the many hallways. The fourth floor if you remember.
"Thank you for pointing them out.", you removed his hand from your shoulder. "Little less of that if you don't mind."
"Oh! I didn't even notice.", Alastor held his hands behind his back. "Do remind me if I slip again."
Husk quickly took you away from the red demon and walked you towards the lobby.
"Look, I'm glad you're here. Really. But its not safe for you to be around that smiling asshole.", your brother hissed.
"Husk, I'm not as clueless as you think I am.", you sigh and shook his arm off. "I'll keep myself safe.", you finish and walk away.
The cat demon stayed behind, groaning as he slides his hand down his face, feeling on edge, tired, and annoyed all at once.
"I've never seen you around a demon like them~", Alastor appears from the shadows. "And you're so protective!", he walks in front of the cat demon. "What a good older brother you are.", he leans back and spins his head to look at the demon.
"Don't you fucking try anything!", Husk threatens.
The Radio Demon laughs and stands up straight. "We'll have to go over our deal again!", he says while fixing his coat. "I hope you added their protection in."
"You piece of shit-!", Husk extends his claws and opens his wings up.
"I must be off! Who knows what trouble the guests have gotten into already!", Alastor walks away from the angry cat.
The Radio Demon hummed as he walked down the hallway, a slight skip in his step as his smile grew wider.
Oh how entertaining~
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I love cats💕 Also this is turning into a short story because Husk is gonna be hella pissed.
~Seline, the person.
Part 1
Taglist@
@ducky-died-inside @scary-noodlesblog @c4rved-pumpk1n @stolas-thebirb @naelys-the-aster @biromanticboba @kiraisastay @pooplyface1423 @lbcreations-blog @gallantys @+?
ML for Alastor🎙 | ChL for HK😾
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mommypieck · 5 months
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𑄽୧ threesome with gojo and geto𔓘 ᰍ
kinktober day 20: porn star fucking!!!
✿ geto suguru x reader x gojo satoru
✿ warnings: oral (fem & male receiving, fingering, ass play, basically couch porn casting
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"So you want to be a pornstar," Geto states, sitting in his chair in front of you. You feel your body sweating all over, and you try not to wrinkle your dress more than it already is by holding the edges with your fist. Geto watches your every move and every expression on your face. You decided to try signing up for his porn agency when you lost your job, and porn is always a good way to get money. However, the first mistake you made was wearing a short flower dress to your interview, making Geto smirk as soon as he saw you in the door.
"Tell me about your sex life, y/n," he tells you, and your cheeks turn red. Of course, he would ask a question like this for the type of job you're trying to get.
"Um, I don't have… coitus that often," you say, looking down at your lap. Geto's eyebrows rise at the word coitus, you're certainly inexperienced, but he sees something for you. You're not too young to be naive about doing something like this, but he suspects you're not fit for a job like this.
"And your favorite position?" he asks, making you stutter. The door swings open, and you feel relieved that it stopped you from answering. Your face falls fast when you see the person in the door. You've seen him in the porn videos Geto makes, more specifically his dick. He flashes you a wide smile, his blue eyes blinking at you.
"Are you new here, love?" his question catches you off guard, making both men chuckle.
"Yeah, she's new," Geto smirks at Gojo, making him whistle. Satoru is used to a different type of women in this industry. He has seen loads of slutty girl ready to spread their legs, but you seem pretty innocent.
"Let me introduce you two," Geto says, standing up from his desk and walking in front of you.
"This is Satoru, Satoru this is y/n. We will be interviewing her today."
The mysterious white haired guy eyes you from head to toe, making you blush. You know exactly who he is, you've seen those porn videos, and you've seen that dick.
"Could you undress for us?" Geto asks as he reaches behind him to grab his camera. Gojo's eyes are still on you, and he takes in every inch of your body as you take off every garment. The last piece of clothing falls on the floor, and you stand naked in front of them.
"Is everything alright?" you ask them, your voice shaking. Suguru reaches his hand out, grabbing your boob to rub your nipple.
"Yeah, everything's fine. you are just so tiny." Geto's words should hurt you, but you feel so turned on right now, you don't care.
"Let's start with the interview," Satoru says, rubbing your shoulder, "Kiss me."
You blush, but you kiss him on the mouth. His tongue slips into your mouth right away, his hand creeping to grab your ass.
Geto focuses on the two of you while he massages your other cheek.
"Look at that tiny cunnie." geto coos at you, swiping his hand between your legs. He rubs at your slit, his thumb circling your clit. It's a simple touch, but it makes you moan out loud, which makes the men shoot a lot between each other.
"You're so responsive, that's good," Gojo says, rubbing from your arms down to your butt. He carefully examines every part of your body.
"Can you lie on the couch?" he asks, guiding you to the leather couch in the corner. You sit down on it, looking around the room. Gojo sits down next to you, throwing his hand around your shoulders and rubbing them. Geto stands in front of the both of you, the camera still on.
"Can you open your legs for us?" the question is so dirty, but Gojo's expression is welcoming. You shuffle so that your back is against the back of the couch, opening your legs.
"Oh fuck yes." Geto groans, getting on his knee to get a better look at your opening.
"Did you plan on eating her out?" Gojo asks Suguru, but he shakes his head. A normal interview consists of fucking and sucking cock, you've never seen someone get eaten out. Gojo smirks, "Well, I have to taste her."
Gojo's tongue dives right into your folds. He teases your clit with his fingers, tongue-swiping your juices. You hear Suguru sigh, "Satoru, this wasn't scheduled." But he doesn't stop him from pleasuring you. He gets next to you, pulling his pants down his legs. Your face bumps right into his hard-on, and he rubs it on your face.
"Open mouth." Geto says, sliding his cock right into your warm mouth. He lets you pleasure him at your pace, but it's hard with Gojo eating you out like a master.
"How am I supposed to know if she's good?" Geto whines, thrusting into your mouth. Your throat closes around his cock, and you choke due to his length. Meanwhile, Gojo pushes one of his fingers inside you, the other teasing your rim. You never had someone play with both of your holes at the same time, and it sure is overwhelming. With each swipe of Gojo's tongue and thrust of Geto's cock, you feel yourself nearing your orgasm.
"Are you gonna cum, sweetheart?" Gojo smirks when your hips stutter to meet his tongue. Geto is close to releasing too, even though your technique isn't the best, he adores how beautiful you look with his cock in your mouth. A wave of pleasure hits you, and you cum, hips rising and falling because of the stimulation. Geto follows shortly after, painting your face with his cum. Gojo smiles at the scene before him, scooping the cum on his finger to put it inside his mouth.
"I'm sorry, y/n," Geto says, looking sad, "We can't hire someone like you."
From the corner of your eye, you can see Gojo's eyes go wide with disbelief.
"I'm not hiring you, but come to our apartment tomorrow afternoon. We'll see what we can do with you in private."
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taglist: @mcharris747 @huuuuut30 @krispsprite @bejewelledd @cawwn @veryninjanacho @jamayah @dngerwayz @nwptune @universlypiratecolor @ffakegucci @merachannie @d1lf-luvr @th3girln3xtdoor @nobody289x @iheartpieck @gia999 @kawasgirl @st4rrlighttt @candyeyeroll @7haze @banchangsbbbg @nigthmar3moon @softlilpeachxx @d1gitalbathh @jaenniii @armahnsie @satorustar @balenciagarette @erp1007
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corroded-hellfire · 2 months
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Hi love!! I would love an Eddie request of him with inexperienced reader but it's not smut it's like the convo leading up to it like May be they start making out and it's getting steamy and she tells him she's a virgin and she's terrified bc what if she's bad at sex and then it's not good for him? What if he sees her naked and thinks she's not pretty?? And it's just Eddie comforting her and reassuring her
Oh, I would most definitely need Eddie to reassure me of these things, too. I hope you like what I've come up with 💕
Words: 1.3k
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The old springs in Eddie’s mattress dig into your back, an occasional squeak emanating from them whenever your boyfriend shifts his weight on top of you. His tongue dances with yours, breath colliding and teeth grazing. Eddie encompasses all your senses, surrounding you wholly and leaving no room to think about anything else but him–if your brain can even manage to think at all with strong, calloused hands running over your body. 
His warm fingers trail up the outside of your leg, leaving goosebumps in their wake. The moment Eddie’s hand slips up your shorts on the front of your thigh though, your body goes from pure ecstasy to adrenaline-pumping nerves in an instant.
An involuntary jump of your body against his alerts Eddie that something’s wrong and he immediately pulls away to gaze down at you in concern.
“Are you okay?”
Though it’s clearly not the truth, you nod your head. Slowly, you scoot yourself out from beneath his body and sit up against the cheap mahogany headboard that’s caused a multitude of scratches against the dully painted trailer wall. 
“C-Can we talk for a second though?”
There’s worry in Eddie’s eyes. He’s terrified that he’s done something wrong or has hurt you in some way. Taking care to give you some space, your boyfriend situates himself to sit next to you on his bed, back also resting against the chipped and scuffed headboard.
“Of course, sweetheart,” Eddie says. “What’s going on?”
Tentatively, Eddie offers you his hand, resting it between the two of you. He’s leaving the decision up to you if you want to touch him right now or not. There’s no hesitation though, you eagerly lace your fingers with his. 
You give him a nervous smile, a million thoughts running through your head at once. It’ll be a miracle if you can speak coherently with the rate at which your mind is moving. Deciding to just bite the bullet and get it all out there, you take a deep breath.
“Um, I’m—I’m a virgin, Eddie.”
Whatever reaction you were planning on Eddie to have, he doesn’t give it to you. He seems completely unfazed by your admission. All you get is a nod of his head and a gentle squeeze of your hand. 
“Okay,” he says casually, as if your entire body isn’t running on nervous energy at the moment. “We can go as slow as you want, yeah?”
You know your body should feel relief, but the worry in your head tells you that you’ve only gotten through part of what you need to tell him. Might as well push through to the end.
“I’m…scared,” you admit. Shame floods your body, chilling your veins.
“Of me?” Eddie’s eyes widen and the alarm in them is clear.
“No!” You quickly assure him. “No, no, never of you.”
He heaves a sigh of relief, and you cup his hand in both of yours. Out of all the things that make you anxious about having sex with Eddie, Eddie is not one of them. But that means you have to tell him that you’re the problem. If your anxiety has one mortal nemesis in the world it is vulnerability. 
“I’m scared that I’ll be bad at it,” you admit. “I don’t know what I’m doing. What if you don’t like it? What if I mess up?” What if you don’t like how I look beneath my clothes?
“Whoa, whoa,” Eddie says with a shake of his head. The crease in his forehead shows his displeasure with the pressure you’re putting on yourself. “First of all, I don’t think you can really mess up sex, sweetheart. As long as you’re here and your clothes are off, I’d say we’re good to go.” He chuckles, but when you don’t join in, he sighs. “Are you honestly worried that I won’t like it?”
Unable to look him in the eye, you nod. His forehead furrows further as Eddie frowns. Usually, you’d rub your thumb over those wrinkles to smooth them out and calm him down. But usually, you’re not the cause of them. 
Gentle fingers grip your chin and tilt your face so you can look at him.
“Princess, it’s you. I love doing everything with you, you really think I won’t like having sex with you?”
When he puts it like that, you feel silly. Heat blooms in your face as embarrassment is scooped on top of the nerves. There are legitimate concerns, though. You’re sure of it. There has to be.
“W-What if you don’t like what my body looks like?” You ask it so quietly in the hope that he misses it.
It’s obvious that he doesn’t by the way his eyes nearly pop out of his head. He reminds you of one of those stress dolls that you squeeze and the small plastic eyes bulge out.
“Not like your body?” Eddie sounds almost incredulous. He pauses for a moment, eyes gazing into yours as he thinks of a reply. It feels like the understatement of the century to say he was unprepared for you to be worried about this; about something that he whole-heartedly knew to be untrue. A smile quirks Eddie’s mouth as his mind goes back to a day before you’d started dating. He licks over his lips before continuing. “Sweetheart, remember the pool party Jeff threw for his birthday last summer? You wore that low-cut, blue one-piece that showed off most of your back?”
Do you remember? You had agonized over what you should wear to that party and what Eddie would think when he saw you. 
“Yeah,” you tell him, voice quivering. 
“Babe,” he says with a shake of his head. “I still get off thinking about that. About how you looked. There was a reason I had to stay in the pool past the point of me freezing half to death in the water.”
Shock colors your face, and despite the gravity of the conversation, it makes Eddie smile wider.
“You…really?”
“Yes,” Eddie says with a breathless chuckle. “God, you’re so fucking hot. You’re gorgeous. It bothers me that you don’t see that.”
If there’s one thing you can say about your boyfriend, it’s that he’s very candid about his view on things–just ask anyone who’s had the pleasure of hearing him make a grand speech from atop a lunch table. Which is most of the high school-aged population in Hawkins.
Half of your brain is trying to convince you that now is the time he chooses to lie, that he’s just saying this to make you feel better or to shut you up. Meanwhile, the other half is telling the anxiety to put a sock in it and listen to Eddie.
“What’re you thinking?” Eddie asks quietly. A reminder of how well he knows you.
“Too much,” you say with a soft laugh. 
Eddie lets out a long breath and gently pulls you into his lap. He absentmindedly rests his hands on your thighs and his thumbs rub calming circles on your skin.
“What can I do to make you feel better?” he asks. Needing to show you physically how much he wants to help you, he snakes his arms around your body to hold you snugly against him. Your heart all but melts as he looks up at you with those large, puppy dog eyes.
With a small smile, you lean down and rest your forehead against your boyfriend’s. Sometimes he’s too cute for his own good. 
“You already have,” you say softly.
“What? How?” Eddie’s frowning again, but this time it's in confusion.
“Just by being you,” you tell him with a shrug.
“Well, I am pretty great,” Eddie says with a playful smirk. Your heart feels lighter once the stress lines fade from his beautiful face. 
You chuckle at his ego and sit back up straight.
“There is one more thing you could do for me, though.”
“What’s that, beautiful?”
There’s a hungry gleam in your eyes as you let your gaze trail up and down his lithe body. 
“Take off your shirt.”
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m-ayo-o · 2 months
Text
how the jjk men treat shy and kinky grls :s
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~ reader gets embarrassed from pda -> nsfw; crack ish + smut ! sex mention, anal, sub!gojo (whiny and needy), fingering, oral, overstimulation, ass eating, premature ejaculation
Toji
He's so confused. Like, last night you were asking him to put his cock in your ass and now you can barely look at him?
He gets all up in your face and teases you about it, loving how you're so embarrassed from what he did to you. He grins over your lips and tries to kiss you but you just dip your head down and push on his chest. He wants to wrap an arm around you anytime you're in public to claim you; over your shoulder, around your waist. He'll try to grab onto your arm or your hand, but you wriggle out of his grip and shy away.
And when you're in a bar, late, with his friends and yours, he wants to squeeze your ass but you just can't handle it. He pulls you between his legs and slides his hands down your back where he's sat on a bar stool, making your entire body heat up when he reaches your plushy cheeks. Your eyes dart around, looking everywhere but the smug smile on his face, but he just laughs and grabs you harder.
"Hey, what's up, why can't I touch you, hm? 'Sure changed your tune from last night, sweet. Tch- come back here you silly girl. Can't keep my hands off you, no- no I just wanna touch your ass, let me, don't be shy."
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Satoru
Your nights together are eye opening for this man. You are showing him filthy things. Filthy hot things with your body and his. You found his praise kink along with his g spot, and with this combination you basically rule his body. The way he cums takes your breath away; he's so loud it's addictive, and when he begs to fuck you, you just can't say no.
But the next day when he needs to be all over you, he takes it so personally when you don't let him. He sighs dramatically and tries to drape his arms around you at any given moment, but you bite your lip with heat rising on your cheeks and tell him it's too much. Of course he starts pouting and whining to no end, like he's entitled to touch you.
After trying to push his massive body away you see his crystal eyes go all wide and watery and he looks like he's going to cry, so you let him get closer and hold onto you while you walk round the shopping mall.
"Babyyyy, I wanna hug you- noo it's not fair, hey don't look at me like that... what do you mean I can't touch you? Um, no. No, I'm hugging you- wait, please?! I let you do all that to me last night... now you don't want me near you?"
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Kento
He fingered you last night. He had you on his lap, kissing you and touching you till you soaked his pants. He took his fingers up to your lips and told you to suck, getting them nice and wet, before dragging them down your body and plunging them into your pussy. He fucked you so wide you started crying, and he watched you spill all over him, humping him stupidly.
He smiled and told you what a good girl you are, and that you should lie down on the bed and let him give you some more. And before you know it you're creaming on his tongue again and again, then you hear the low buzz of a vibrator and you can barely take it. You cry and moan through the overstimulation but he hushes you softly, telling you to stay still.
And after your intense night, he takes you out for dinner the next day and he wants to hold your hand over the table. He slides his fingers into your palm and you suddenly look away and close up your hand, retracting your arms and hiding them under the table. He gives you an understanding smile- you must've been thinking about what he did with those fingers last night.
"I had fun, yeah really- no, no honey it's all about you. Same again tonight? No? Haha okay I admit I was being greedy. Mm, you just feel so warm and soft, I can't help but touch you- sorry, it's too much? Oh, no it's ok sweetheart."
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Suguru
He wants to hold you. He wants to place his hand on your lower back while you stroll around the city. His touch is calming and respectful; he only wants to guide you and make you feel safe. But after last night, when he pressed on the same spot on your back, you're getting so shy with him.
He pushed you into the mattress and spread you open, sinking his tongue inside you with his nose between your ass cheeks. He splayed one hand over the dip in your back to hold you still, the other keeping your legs open, and he ate you realllll dirty, until his tongue started slipping up your ass and he was begging to lick you there too. You let him and he purred and spread your cheeks, telling you how pretty you are and how much he wants to fuck you.
And after that, with his hot sex talk playing on repeat in your mind, you can't help twitching and skipping out of his touch when you're walking down the street. You try to hide how embarrassed you are but of course he notices and it makes him even more insatiable, till he's whispering dirty promises in your ear.
"Don't get all shy like that- come here, look at me. You'll let me eat your ass but I can't touch you? Oh, pretty girl, I just wanna hold you- mm, don't look at me like that.. gonna turn me on- you know I want to do it again, right?"
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bonus ~ (roles reversed)
Choso
He's still embarrassed from last night since he accidentally came in his pants. He was horny all day from you sending him outfit ideas for your date but he waited so patiently for you. When you showed up at his place in one of the contending choices- a crop top and a tiny little skirt- he got a boner right there in the doorway. But when you sat on his lap, kissing and grinding your pussy on him, he knew it was all over. He started panting and moaning in your mouth but he didn't want to stop kissing you and he just couldn't push you off in time.
And now you want to touch him in public he's being really shirty with you and pulling away, not letting you grab onto his muscly arms or hold his big hands. He storms through the city with you chasing after him, and when you reach your date destination he huffs and heads inside.
Finally, he lets you get closer to him. He's sitting on a bench after attracting all of the kittens in the cat café and you ask to perch on his knee so you can pet them too. He nods and you sit there, with your grumpy boyfriend covered in cats and you turn to him and place a kiss on his cheek. He jumps and goes bright red and nearly throws you off his lap. But you trace a soothing line over the marking on his nose and give him a little hug. You know he loves you.
"Choso- baby it's ok, come here. Don't be angry with me please, no no it's not your fault, please. Baby don't be embarrassed.. oh, thank you sweetie- I promise we can try again later. Yeah, does that sound good?"
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2K notes · View notes
abbyshands · 2 months
Note
Good nigth darling,you're okay?can we have more nerdy!abby pleaase i beg you 🙏🙏🙏(srry for my inglish)
teach me
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└── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──┘
a/n; hello, my love! i’m good, and i hope you are too! of course EEK i was going to write more for her anyway, i love a nerdy girl. also this is cut off asf I’M SORRY i’m tired, maybe i’ll do a part 2 if y’all ask <3
synopsis; you’ve never been good at science, let alone college biology. when your professor all but forced you to get a tutor, who should you end up with but your nerdy girlfriend, who has a very unique way of getting you to study?
pairing; dom!abby anderson x sub!fem!reader
warnings; abby uses baby/princess, use of a strap-on, cockwarming + edging (kinda), abby refers to the strap as her dick and it’s referred to as her dick/cock, choking, spanking, degradation (ish. abby’s tone is just mean), anddd i prob missed smt so lmk <3
wc; 2.2k
p.s.; ALSO this is was ib an ellie fic i saw bro idk where tf it is 😭 searching for it tho. i js remember it was nerdy ellie. it was so good BUT LIKE WHERE IS ITTT idk i’ll link it here if i find it
└── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──┘
you’ve always sucked at science. biology, chemistry, whatever the hell it was, it had never been your cup of tea.
your professor had not so kindly recommended you get a tutor. otherwise, your grades would decline (more than they already were, that is). you didn't want a tutor, let alone for it to be someone you didn't know. you were already feeling awkward enough having to have someone tutor you at all—you couldn't imagine if it was by an unfamiliar.
that's where abby came in.
abby anderson was your girlfriend, and she was a nerd. like, cliche movie nerd. if you couldn't find her in her dorm, with you, or in class, she was at the library, doing homework until she couldn't anymore. she was a coffee addict with how late she was up each evening, study sessions, unnecessarily reviewing, and, again, homework.
let's just say, abby anderson would do crazy things for an a.
you didn't necessarily want to have abby as your tutor. for some reason, it was embarrassing to you. you had already felt that way when you told her you needed one at all. it would be 10x worse if she would be the one doing it.
not only that, the focus.
how the fuck were you going to focus when you have abby fucking anderson in front of you? when your mind races with memories of her fucking you from behind, or kissing down your neck, or making you the wettest you've ever been, just by being alive?
you weren't.
but abby was persistent. you had originally said no when she first asked to tutor you, but when the guy who was supposed to tutor you didn't even show for your first session, it was no longer a request.
it was a demand.
you were sitting beside abby in her dorm, working on an assignment for your biology class that was due the following day. you had taken up to ten breaks by now, and it had only been an hour and a half or so.
abby pushed her glasses up on her face as she looked over at you, eyebrow raised. you had been dozing off, elbow on the desk and chin on your palm as your eyes began to fall shut.
"hey," abby snapped her large hand in front of your face, making your eyes open again just as quickly as it had happened. "are you listening to me?"
no.
"yeah. yeah, sorry, i just, um—dna and rna. that's what we're learning now, right?" you ask confusedly, doing your best to make it seem like you know what you’re talking about.
but the look on abby's face tells you all you need to know.
"mhm, like, ten minutes ago," abby hums a bit annoyedly, and you can't help but let out a sigh. it's bad enough you have to be here at all, but letting abby down, or worse, pissing her off, was the last thing you wanted to do. “you're never going to learn if you don't put any effort in," she sighs.
“c’mon, abs,” you whined as you set your pencil aside, putting your head down on the desk, eyes on abby. the blonde set her own pen down with a small shake of the head, expression unreadable. “i can’t do this anymore,” you said dramatically. abby rolled her eyes.
“what’s wrong now?” abby asked, but it’s not like she really wanted to know the answer. you knew how seriously abby took her own schoolwork, which may be the reason she was annoyed that you didn’t. but you just weren’t like that.
“none of this makes sense. i can’t remember a thing we go over. god, i hate biology,” you complained once more, looking away from abby.
abby sighed as she put a hand on your shoulder. as much as she wanted to be annoyed, she loved you, and she knew full well that even if you were smart, biology was your worst class.
“what can i do to help, baby? flashcards, d’you want me to quiz you? what do you need?” abby asked as she moved her hand to your back, rubbing it. you shrugged.
“i dunno. i don’t think any of that stuff is going to help me, abby. my memory’s—not that good,” you lamely huffed, but it was true. your memory was best when it came down to the things you cared for. college biology was not one of them.
“hm,” abby hummed. it took a beat, a small pause. but then, abby’s perked eyebrows told you that she had just gotten an idea, and so did the way her plump lips curled into a grin.
“i think i know what’ll do the trick.”
└── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──┘
that’s how you ended up on abby’s lap, her cock buried deep inside of you as she gripped you by the bottom. abby’s way of bettering your sour memory came in the form of one of the most agonizing experiences you had ever had.
“how does dna differ from rna?” abby asks you casually, as if she isn’t filling you to the brim. you feel your face getting hot, bottom lip bitten down on as you look at her nervously.
“u- uhm. d- dna has a d- double helix model, fuck,” you whine. you must be at least a little correct, because abby bucks her hips up into you, causing the silicone dildo to move inside of you. “rna’s single, a- and involved in a different process than dna.”
“attagirl,” abby praised. it’s then that she grabbed you by the ass, hard, and forced you to ride up to the top of her dick, just before she’s slamming you back down. for only a few seconds, you gain some pleasure by moving your body like that, or abby doing it for you, that is.
but then, she’s robbing it away from you, just like that.
“a- abby, please, c’mon,�� you whimper. this had been going on for a third of an hour or so. abby would ask you a question from the deck of index cards she had made for you, and you would answer. simple, right?
wrong.
because here's the thing: she wouldn’t move unless you answered her, and it had to be correct. and if not?
smack.
abby's large hand comes down on your ass as if to shut you up. really, it doesn't. you let out a moan as she then grabs your ass again, not giving a care to how sore you may be.
because she's already slapped you way too many times to count.
“don't act like this isn't for your own good," she says firmly, reprimanding you. "you got that one wrong last time. and we’re not going to stop until you’ve got that whole fucking deck memorized, you got that?” she asks, signaling to the forgotten pile of index cards on the desk behind you. you whine, body too achy for abby to deny her.
“f- fine," you whine, because who the hell would you be to say no?
“good girl," abby praises as she rubs her hands over your bottom, caressing you in a loving manner, a wide difference to the way she was addressing you mere seconds before. "now, can you tell me what a neuron is?”
doing your best to not focus on the feeling inside you, you nod, and easily answer. “a- a neuron—" you huff. "is a specialized cell.”
abby moves her hands to your hips and pushed you up, so that you're around halfway down on her cock. you let out a small shudder, but it must mean you're correct. “and what’s it do?” abby then asks.
to some degree.
but you know this one. after all, it was one of the last cards you looked at in the deck. so, you respond, “transmit.”
abby moves you up more, and this time, she brings one of her hands up to cup your tit. she plays with your nipple if only for a second, causing you to let out a low moan. but just when you think she's going to keep going, of course, she doesn't.
“transmit what?” she asks firmly as her fingers caress your rib cage, and it's all you can do not to roll your eyes.
“nerve impulses," you say a bit too fast, eager to have her hands back on you. your neediness helped you on that one. "i- it’s the basic unit of the nervous system," you add, for good measure.
"that's right, princess," abby smirked, course she did. she had always had way too much fun when she was driving you crazy during sex. this was no different.
but you're pleased to find yourself rewarded, because abby allows you to ride her again. you move up and down a little quickly, scared that your girlfriend will rob you of the feeling before it's even begun. abby begins to rub your clit as she gazes at you fucking yourself on her dick, way too needy for her touch.
"eager girl," abby cooed, rubbing her index on your clit in quick circles. "so needy for my cock, aren't you?"
"yes," you huff out fast, eyes closing shut at the feeling under you.
"too bad."
abby shoves you all the way back down her dick, so that you're all the way back down at the base. it pleasures you for only a second, before the feeling vanishes, just like that.
"abby, f- fuck," you groan annoyedly, body begging for a release you know abby won't give you unless you do what she tells you to do.
and she doesn't like your words.
abby grabs you by the neck, forcing you to look at her as you roll your eyes in the brattiest manner she's ever seen from you. "look at me. look at me when i'm talking to you," and she uses that tone you know she only uses when she's not playing games, barking your full name out at the end like the word pains her tongue.
once she's got your eyes on her, she speaks once more. "if you really want this dick, and i know you do, you're gonna take what i give you like the good girl you are. that clear?"
you keep your eyes on her, scared of what will happen if you don't, face hot as you answer. "y- yes, ma'am."
"primary use of the kidneys?" abby asks, not even giving you praise for obeying her. but you're not at all surprised by that: if there was one thing about abby, she did not like your bratty side.
this time, unlike what abby's asked you before, you can't remember the answer to this. like, at all. you fumble with it for a second, digging through your head for what it could be. but you don't get a response.
"i- i don't know," you dumbly stutter, genuinely unsure of what to say. abby isn't having it, obviously, because one mlre spank is coming down onto your ass before you know it.
"f- fuck!" you whine brokenly, head rocking back, and bottom sore from each hit abby's given you. she doesn't seem to care.
"yes, you do," she all but growls at you, and you think of your real class all too quickly, like she's your professor. "we went over this. so fucking tell me," she says, and it only makes your abdomen churn more.
and fill with butterflies.
“s- something to do with b- blood pressure, right? c- controlling it? please say yes," you were begging more to yourself than to abby, not even sure where that answer came from.
“mhm, and what else?" she coos, doing what she's done a million times before: moving you halfway up her cock.
"i- i don't know, abs. can't remember," you mutter, and really, how could you by now?
it looks like abby is feeling a little generous this time, because she helps you along. "what’s it do to your body, princess? begins with an 'r',” she asked.
even when your brain begins to fog up with all of the questions in your head, and what's happening besides that, it seems to click for you when abby says the letter 'r.' “r- regulates it? th- the fluid balance?”
“mhm," abby says with a small nod of approval, even kissing your chest this time as a reward.
"there’s my smart girl.”
and it goes on like that forever, question, answer, question, answer. sometimes, you got abby's cock easily. most times, you weren't so lucky.
your eyes are drooping, body aching and face hot as you stutter out the answer to the final card in the deck. once you do, you let out a deep, long exhale, which makes abby chuckle.
"see, pretty girl? wasn't that bad, was it?" abby coos, putting her hand up to cup your cheek. obviously, you want to say no. but after all of this, it was too risky to be bratty to abby. so you shake your head.
and you hadn’t even finished yet.
"n- no, it was—fine," you lie, and abby knows you are. but she doesn't ask about it, knowing full well how much she's done to you already.
"look on the good side.”
“you'll remember better now, won't you?"
└── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──┘
reblogs are very much welcomed <3
———
2K notes · View notes
luveline · 1 year
Text
losers | remus lupin
“Please.”
“Please?” he says back, mirroring your soft tone. “You think you need to say please?” His pinky bumps under the waistband of your trousers. There isn’t much give. He traces the lining to your zipper, fiddling with the small piece of metal as your eyes darken. “I should be the one saying it.” His voice keeps dropping, an utterance in the shell of your ear, his words for you and you alone. “I’m at your mercy, dove. Don’t say please with me. Okay?” 
you find remus’ number on an abandoned motorbike. things snowball from there. [10k words]
fem!reader, fluff, first date, smut mdni, implied inexperienced!reader, almost rockstar!remus, mentioned that remus takes painkillers, muggle!au, early 2000’s au
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ There’s a motorbike outside of the cafe.
It’s huge. Too heavy for you to move. Technically, you hadn’t found it at all, it was left there in the dead of night a few days ago and hasn’t budged since. It’s illegally parked, a fact that your manager won't stop muttering about while she’s elbow deep in latte foam and coffee cakes. 
“I’m getting the bastard thing towed,” she grumbles that morning. “Let the police deal with it.”
That seems rather harsh to you. It isn’t necessarily in the way, and it looks well loved. Perhaps whoever left it can’t remember where they left it, having stumbled home on inebriated footing after one too many at the pub across the street. You think about how much it must cost to get your stuff back after it’s been towed, and though you aren’t sure of the specifics, you know it can’t be cheap. So, when your manager falls into conversation with a regular and your break begins, you creep outside to do some investigating. 
It’s a hulking thing made of more black than silver. There are stickers across the left side of the body, weathered and peeling, though one is newer than the others and immediately draws your eye. 
A phone number. 
If lost, please call. 
You take your phone out of your pocket, a flip phone with one dangling charm in the shape of a star. You click each faded button slowly. You're scared to talk to someone you don’t know, but relieved to maybe save the day. 
It goes for ages. 
“Hello?”
“Hey,” you say, dropping your voice into its sweetest tones, though nerves make you too soft, and you worry you’re hard to hear. “Hey, um, sorry to bother you. I work at The Mill, it’s a– a cafe in the city centre… Are you missing a bike, by any chance? A motorbike?”
“Oh, thank you. Yeah, it’s my friend’s. He can be… forgetful.” The voice that speaks is both smooth and gritty, impossibly, like whoever it is that’s talking smoked half a pack of cigarettes before he answered the phone. He clears his throat. “I hope it hasn’t been an imposition for you.”
“Actually, uh, my manager wants to have it towed. Like, now. I can try to fend her off but honestly she’s like, that physics law, um, unstoppable force? Uh,” —you’re stuttering, making it worse, because his voice is surprisingly handsome and you’re an idiot through and through— “yeah, so could you come and get it?”
“Yes! Yeah, absolutely, we’re on our way. Thank you.”
“Sure. Of course.”
You hear something not meant for you, the tail end of, “Sirius, get up. You better call Marl and—”
Phone back in your pocket, you take a quick glance around the street before reaching out to run your finger over the cracked leather of the motorbike seat. You’ve never ridden one before. You’ve never wanted to. The level of fearlessness one needs for it isn’t one you possess. 
You’re the opposite of fearless. 
The sun hides behind a wave of clouds. Your skin chills near immediately, your prim slacks and apron a worthless defence against the cold. It’s an average day here, grey and quiet. Occasionally a couple will pass you, hand in hand as they traverse the worn pavement. You smile at an elderly man and his dog as they shuffle across the street and into the cafe. Your smile fades as you tune into the fierce tones of your manager, demanding to know where you’ve gone. If your absence is what distracts her from calling the police, so be it. 
You’re considering getting your phone back out to play Snake when a passing car slows beside you. You straighten up and out, feeling your spine click in more places than it should as the passenger door opens and an insanely attractive man throws himself out of it. 
“My angel!” he cries, heading straight for you. 
You take a panicked step backward. The man dives for his motorbike. You flinch, mystified by his enthusiasm and his opposite appearance. Short sleeves reveal arms full of dark tattoos, with one side marred by a brutally long scar from his elbow to the back of a ring-laden hand. You tear your eyes from him as a second door closes across the street, and feel all the air rush from your chest as a second man approaches. 
He’s very pretty. It might be redundant to say it to yourself, presented as you are with an undeniable truth, but you think it anyway. Sandy brown hair, pale skin, and in enough layers to make up for his friends lack thereof, the second man ignores any dramatics and meets you head on. 
“Hi,” he says, holding out his hand, “you’re the one who called?”
Closer now, you can see the scars on his face. They stretch over the ridge of his nose and into his eyebrow. A smaller one tugs as he talks against his top lip. 
You take his hand and shake it limply. “Yeah, that was me.”
If he’s concerned with your nervousness he doesn’t show it. His smile doesn’t move. “He wants to say thank you. He will, once he gets over himself.”
“Thank you!” the dark-haired man calls. “She’s my everything. I’ve been sick with worry.”
“Have you?” the man in front of you asks, his voice steady, almost intimidating in its impassiveness. 
“Yes, Moons, I have been… not that you’d know.”
“Some of us have real problems,” Moons snips, though he quickly looks at you like he’s embarrassed. “Sorry. He brings out the worst in me.”
“You must be good friends.” 
You don’t know why you say it. He only smiles. 
“We must be.”
The first man stands up from checking over his motorbike and beams at you. You suspect it’s an expression that works in his favour more often than not. “What can I give you, doll?” 
“No, nothing. Please. I’ll just be glad to hear the end of it.”
"Are you sure?" 
"Yeah, really." 
Your manager calls your name, clear as day despite the thick pane of glass and brick walls separating you. 
"That's you?" Moons asks. 
"That's me. Sorry." 
"No, don't be. Thanks so much for calling." 
You nod hurriedly, throwing them both a 'nice to meet you, I'm sorry for leaving so fast' kind of smile and head back inside. 
You take a sneaky look back when you're behind the counter again. They’ve turned their backs to you, Moons' friend ruffling his hair roughly. After a minute or two, Moons gets back in his car, and the motorbike pulls away like it was never there to begin with. 
What sort of name is Moons? you ask yourself. It's a question that stays with you for a few days. You find yourself hoping you'll see him again, or that his friend's motorbike will turn up outside of the cafe for a few long days and give you an excuse to call him. His number stays unsaved in your recent calls menu for a while. Eventually, you forget about him altogether; the motorbike, the call, the gentle wave of his hair. 
You're hard-pressed to forget his voice, though. There'd been something familiar about it. 
"Nice highscore." 
You jump hard and wince as the metallic taste of blood hits your taste buds. To make it worse, you slam your phone up into the counter it was hiding under in shock. It makes a fatal crunching sound. 
You shove it into your pocket and look up. Standing there, in all his handsome weariness, is Moons, sans friend. He's wearing nice clothes, clean and clearly ironed. You're immediately aware of your ratty uniform and your unkempt hair. 
"Shit," you say, which is so fucking embarrassing, honestly, you could fall through the floor and stay there, "Sorry. What can I get you?" 
His eyebrows inch up his forehead. "What's the easiest thing to make?" 
That's not a question you get often. "Uh, regular black coffee, or tea, or, the uh– the hot chocolate's not that hard. But you should order whatever you like, of course." 
Moons smiles at you. You're starting to understand the nickname (assuming it is a nickname). He has this odd but enticing presence about him, like that awestruck feeling of looking up at night and seeing all the teeny tiny stars and the moonlight that comes down with them, bright and somewhat daunting. 
"Sure you don't mind?" 
"I'm paid not to mind." 
"Can I get the biggest cup of tea you can make? Milk and two sugars, please." 
"Absolutely." You sidestep to the register and click a bunch of the wrong buttons. You're unprofessionally flustered. "Uh, three sixty five?" 
He passes you a five pound note. Your tip cup is for the more generous type, and he has no trouble dropping his palmful of change into it. He barely looks. You're expecting him to take a seat but he stays standing, one arm pressed to the counter, the other held up. He scratches behind his ear absentmindedly, as though he has nowhere else to be. 
"Are you in a hurry?" you ask, confused. 
He stays quiet for enough time to shit you up. You're tipping milk over your hand and hoping he hasn't seen it when he says, "No rush. I'm here to see you." 
You look over your shoulder at him. You can't help it. "To see me." 
"Yeah." 
You spin back to his tea. The counter is covered in spills and sugar, cup tops and wooden stirrers. You take them all in with wide eyes. Nobody ever comes to see you. Not your friends, not family (unless they want something). Especially not boys you met once for two minutes. 
"Is there something wrong?" you ask. 
You clip the lid onto his big tea and wrap it in napkins so it doesn't burn his hands. 
"Nothing's wrong," he says kindly. "I wanted to apologise. Your boss was upset with you. It was Sirius' fault. We owe you for it." 
"You really don't have to say sorry. She wasn’t that mad. No harm, no foul." 
You put his cup of tea down in front of him and try to smile like girls do in the movies. Soft doe eyes, not too bright, not too awkward. You give up after a second and feel it twist into something regrettable. 
His long silence makes you squirm.
"A thank you, then.”
He offers you an envelope. You take it. 
The paper is crisp and thick. Your fingers are clumsy, and it takes you too many seconds to fold the envelope's lip and pull out the card stock inside. 
You look up in shock. "I can't–" 
He's not there. You look to the door, catching what might've been his hand as he walks out of view. 
He's left you two concert tickets. You don't go to concerts. You might have, when you were younger, and had friends to follow. As it stands he's given you two seated tickets for a show in the Pointer Arena not far from where you work, for a band you've never heard of. The price on each is a solid £20, which is way too much repayment for ringing a number from a sticker. Worse, you're not sure you have somebody who can use the second one. 
You hope he'll come back for clarification alone, and a little to see him, but he doesn't, and soon the date on the ticket matches the date on your calendar and you're standing outside of the venue with no clue how to hold yourself. 
You stand in line for a while. It's a very long line made up of mostly younger women. You listen for the calling of a reseller and spot a group of young girls trying to haggle with them, reluctantly leaving your place in line. 
"Hi," you say quietly to the one furthest from the epicentre. "I'm sorry if this is weird. I have an extra ticket tonight, and I was wondering if you'd like it? I know it's seated, but maybe you could use it to get in and then, uh, not sit? Or just sit." You could writhe around on the ground in shame. You hold out the spare ticket. "If you want it." 
"Are you kidding?" 
"No, seriously." 
She takes the ticket and you walk away before she can try and give it back to you. Whether she uses it or not, it's no longer your problem to deal with. The lady who'd been standing behind you lets you back in line, for which you're extremely grateful, and you shiver your way to the front with nerves churning your stomach. 
You've imagined being turned away twenty times by the time they usher you through the doors. The air is buzzing with excitement, enough of it to ramp up your nerves, and you smile weakly at the people who pass you on the way up to the seating area you've been designated. The Pointer Arena is a smaller venue with much more standing than seating capacity available. The seats are at the sides and back of the second floor, looking down at the pit with a safety barrier in front. 
You slide into your seat and peer down at the crowd as it fills up one ant of a person at a time. You can't distinguish one person from another after a while. It’s a moving sea of dark clothes. 
It takes a long time for the opening act to come on. You're not having much fun. You'd tried to use the computer in the cafe to research the bands playing tonight but the dial up hadn't been working and your manager hates when you take long breaks, so you aren't sure you'll even enjoy yourself. You're not sure why you came here — is it sad, to come here alone? It looks sad, you think, pathetic, but it doesn't feel sad. You're not very good at talking, anyways. It's so difficult. Or maybe you just make it that way. 
This is why you regret coming. Any time spent by yourself is time to think. You hate thinking, but it's all you seem to be able to do. Think and think and think. Your mind runs in the same circles. Things you've done, things you wish you did, things you want to do so badly it makes you feel sick. You can't stand it. 
The crowd begins to rise in volume. Cheers echo against the atrium ceiling, and you push yourself to the edge of your seat to see what's making them all so excited. 
The opening band. They're too far away to see clearly. First on stage is a man with brown skin and a head of black curls, a guitar swinging from his neck, the body barely held as he waves to the masses. Next comes a paler man with hair tied up in a bun who sits down behind the drum kit and doesn't move much after that. A girl practically sprints to centre stage, scooping up a waiting guitar (or bass?) and strumming down the body appreciatively. She has purple hair, bright and choppy, particularly abrasive against the alabaster white of her skin. 
And last on stage… last on stage is Moons. 
You move forward suddenly, smacking your face against the plexiglass barrier and biting your cheek for the second time in a week. Used to your mistreatment, the poorly healed skin wastes no time splitting, and the metallic taste of blood makes you cringe. 
That's Moons. There are two huge screens either side of the stage that magnify him. First his hand on the microphone, a scar coiling up from his wrist to his thumb purple against his skin. Then his face. You wouldn't forget what he looks like so soon, not when you've half obsessed over him for days with could-be's because he'd wanted to see you and you have a bad habit of inventing future's with people you don't know, but even if you did it wouldn't matter. You've never met anyone else with three scars as he has across his face, taking centre stage. 
You hadn't realised the tickets were to see his band. It makes sense, now, why your seat is in such a quiet area, and why the people sitting close by aren't firecracker happy at the sight of them. They must've received their tickets in the same way, gifts or thank yous for small favours. 
Your mouth dries as they begin to play. It's not what you're expecting. Of course, you haven't really had time to expect anything, and yet you're shocked when they start to play a slow song. He doesn't really look like a rockstar, but a heartthrob? You can see it easily. The long lengths of his lashes, and the dark honey of his eyes. His smile, so small but somehow piercing. 
His voice is careful. He doesn't sing anything impressive —there's no belting or high notes— but you still find yourself wringing your hands together, entranced by his confidence. He dances around the melodies and fills up every space he can find between the beat of the drums and the searing guitar riffs that follow. 
They only play five songs. By the time they've finished you're feeling sick to your stomach, and you can't get your heart to calm down. You hadn't known a word of the lyrics, but you'd felt them. 
They're good. 
Like, too good to be openers for long. 
The crowd echoes your sentiment. They clap and scream and wolf whistle. The noise vibrates in the depth of your stomach. The cheering doubles when the headlining band’s techies emerge. The lights go down. Equipment begins to roll out. 
You scrounge through your purse for a lip balm and think about heading downstairs to the concession stands for an overpriced bottle of water to wash away the unfortunate tang of blood. It aches to pay, but if you don't soon you might get nauseous, and that would be a real disaster, throwing up here of all places. 
You hear his voice before you see him. He's laughing, talking to somebody about the set. 
"It was great!" compliments a feminine voice. "I don't know what you were so worried about, Remus, you're really great. And if you weren't, Marl would've saved the day anyways with her gorgeous showmanship." 
"Thanks, baby," says a second voice. Marl. 
"Thanks, Mary," Moons says. 
What had Mary called him? Remus? Odd, not quite as strange as Moons. 
You try not to tense as footsteps approach. 
"Can I sit?" he asks. 
You look up too fast. He's a little damp, the hair closest to his face curled with it, but he smells good as he sits down. He must've washed up. 
"I– I've been calling you Moons in my head," you admit, not sure what to say. 
He's intimidating. You don't imagine he knows it. He sits in the chair without any fanfare, setting his forearm on the rest between your two seats and turning his face to you completely, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth, almost like he doesn't want to smile but can't help himself. His eyes are the slightest bit lidded, emphasising the brilliance (and unfairness) of his lashes, so thick and dark you wonder if he's wearing makeup. 
"You can call me whatever you want to, but my name's Remus. I should've told you that before. I was… distracted." 
He isn't being coy, you realise. He easily could be if he wanted to, but he was genuinely lost for words for a second.
"I didn't really tell you mine," you say, hoping to ease his gentle confusion. 
He says your name like it's easy. Like he enjoys the sound of it. "Y/N. Do you like music?" 
Is that a trick question? His eyes trace up to your eyebrows as they pinch together, but he doesn't amend his question. Not a trick, then. 
"I like music,” you say.
"I realise it's brave to ask someone to come and see you on stage. And that I look like a tosser sometimes with the stage lights and makeup." 
"No," you say quickly, "you don't. You looked just fine. You looked good. I bet it's hard getting on stage like that, and in front of this many people. And singing. You have a really nice voice." 
His eyes soften. "Thank you. Do you wanna go get a drink with me? There's a bar. It's quiet." 
Your elbow brushes against his long sleeve. "Yeah." You're not breathless enough to embarrass yourself, but it's a close call. 
Remus leads you up and out of the seats. The venue is large in that it has just as many hallways and back rooms as it has places to watch the show. Remus’ warm hand catches your elbow, a friendly touch that guides you around the barrier and through a dimly lit hallway that takes you to the bar. 
The bar overlooks the stage, but the sound of the band and the crowd is dampened severely, making for a sorely needed respite. VIP's mill around the room on plush leather sofas and cushy bar stools sipping from sweating glass bottles. Remus' hand moves up to your shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze as a familiar face waves you over. 
"Hey, it's you!" 
You smile at Remus' motorbike friend. You're a hundred percent sure his name is Sirius, but you won't say it aloud in case you're wrong. Beside him sits the other man you'd seen on stage with them, the guitarist with brown skin and a head full of thick hair. You look between the three of them in secret shock, wondering if handsome attracts handsome or if it's just dumb luck that they ended up together. 
"James, this is the babe that found Stacia," Sirius says.
James wrinkles his nose. "Hi," he says, in a voice that sounds deeply apologetic, years of it like the rings of a tree. "How are you?"
"I'm good. Um, and you?" 
"I'm good! Thanks, I'm good, it's nice of you to come see us. Did you like the show?" 
"Yeah, I did. I had no idea you guys were musicians." 
He splits his attention between you and his jacket. He pulls a glasses case out of his pocket, clicks it open, and straightens out a pair of wire frames. 
"Couldn't tell from our baby boy's general demeanour?" he asks. "Hey, that's better, I can see you now." 
"Sirius is the youngest," Remus says. 
"And the handsomest." 
"No, Marl's clearly the handsome one," James says lightly. 
Sirius takes the rebuttal in good jest and brandishes his drink toward you like a toast. "Want a beer?" 
"I'm getting her one," Remus says, "come on, give me a minute here." 
Everybody laughs. You laugh too, turning your face into your shoulder to smother the sound. 
"Well, come and sit with us, make yourself comfortable," James says, moving his jacket off of the chair in front of you.
Remus makes a small, apprehensive sound. "Drinks first." He looks to you for confirmation. "Yeah. We'll be back." 
You follow him to the bar. Your shoes, a pair of dirty converse you wish you'd swapped for heels or something sophisticated, squeal against the hardwood floor. How were you supposed to know you'd see him again tonight? In what world does stuff like this happen to scruffy waitresses? You're starting to think he might be somebody. 
Not that it matters if he is or isn't. 
But if he is… This is embarrassing, right? Not knowing who he is. 
There must be a couple thousand people here tonight. Then again, his band were the opening act, so it doesn't necessarily mean they're all famous or anything. 
"Hey," Remus says softly, stopping your thoughts cold. "Are you okay?" 
"I'm fine. Sorry. I've never been in here before, anywhere that's like it,” you say. 
"Venues are all different but the bars don't change," he says. "What do you like?" 
"I'm not a big drinker." 
"That's okay. I just wanted an excuse to be alone with you." He doesn't even give you time to recover. "Truth is, I wanted to ask you out. But between shows I couldn't find time, and next week I'm in San Marino." 
What you mean to say is, you wanted to ask me out? But instead, you choke, "You're going to Italy?" 
Remus pushes a seat out for you, helping you up with a solid hand, and, while your fingers are still warm from his touch, he says, "San Marino isn't Italy. I didn't know that 'til a few months ago. But pretty much." 
"What's in San Marino?" 
"A wedding." He climbs into the seat next to you, smiling.
The tan colour of his long-sleeves contrasts his pale hands. Your eyes flash to his ring finger. Not his wedding. 
Remus isn’t easy to talk to. It's not wholly his fault. He doesn't force conversation, leaving you awkwardly searching for something to say. You're not the best conversationalist either. He clearly doesn't mind it. 
You're in the midst of a clumsy retelling of a shitty customer service moment when he tips his head to the left just a touch. 
"Maybe we can go on an actual date when I'm home,” he says.
He says it like he's talking about the weather. You'd be worried he was messing with you, but then he smiles again, flicking his index finger against your wrist mildly. "You don't have to answer me now. Finish telling your story."
"It was pretty much finished. And– and I'd like to. Go on a real date. I've never been out of the country, so you'll have to forgive me if I want to know everything about San Marino." 
He looks at your lips. Says, "Good," and doesn't give any indication that he's noticed how nervous you are. That is, until he covers your trembling hand with his and presses it flat to the bar. 
"You're really pretty," he murmurs. He takes a moment, and he smiles. "Come with me? If I don't give Sirius some attention soon he'll start showing off."
— 
James is starting to wonder if he should invite you to San Marino. He's not that stupid; it would be a huge pain if you were standing in the middle of all his wedding photos and you and Remus don't work out. But, while he's certainly and majorly jumping the gun, he has a suspicion he’ll be seeing you again. 
James has never seen Remus like this before. 
His friend is usually quiet, quipping every now and then perhaps at Sirius' insufferable antagonism but otherwise brooding. He hasn't seen him smile this much, ever. 
James is under no illusions — he knows Remus loves him very much. He knows Remus is happy, and not always healthy but managing. He knows Remus is pleased with their lives and ecstatic to have their music take off. But he also knows Remus won't let himself have a good thing, not really. Maybe that's why he's asked you out now, when in a week they'll be in San Marino, and a week after that they'll be in Cardiff to officially start the new tour. 
He knows Remus, sweetheart, kind hearted, miraculous Remus, tends to let people down. He's a stickler for asking people out and cancelling the day before. It's how it always goes. James will ask how the date went and Remus will shake his head and say, "it didn’t work out." 
He knows Remus doesn't mean to hurt anybody. He just… can't get close. 
But he's trying, with you. A glass of cordial in one hand, the other behind your chair, Remus tells you one of his more embarrassing stories about how he'd taken a bad fall and ended up in A&E with half of an eyebrow. He doesn't mention the painkillers that made him woozy. 
You've relaxed considerably since sitting down. James would be happy to report that you're having a good time. You have your own drink in hand, and your eyes are bright, with a receding space between your face and Remus' as the story goes on. It's like watching two magnets fight to hold themselves apart.
Matter of time, James thinks to himself smugly. 
Honesty is important. You admit to yourself that you and Remus aren't exactly a perfect match. Both quiet, both not quite social butterflies, your conversations had occasionally been stilted and slow, but you've only met twice. Things don't have to be perfect, and more than that — there's a spark there. A twinge of a possibility. He'd liked what little he knew about you enough to ask to see you again, and you'd like what little you knew about him in turn to say yes. 
It doesn't have to be perfect, you insist to yourself, a bundle of nerves. Nothing does. 
He looks pretty perfect. Base of his palm pressed to the brick wall of the cafe, hand angled down as his fingers grasp the neck of a bouquet whose flowers have been shedding petals onto the damp pavement below. He holds his other hand against his chest, clicking buttons on his phone. 
You approach from the left and watch him play a game of Snake. 
"You play Snake?" you ask.
"Doesn't everybody?" he asks back, his smile softening what might otherwise feel like a chastisement. He doesn't look up from his phone.
"Woah, how long have you been out here?" you ask, eyeing his weirdly long snake.
Remus guides the snake into a wall on purpose. It dies, his high score flashes across the screen, and he aims an apologetic look your way. "Sorry, that was rude." He doesn't try to hide that he's looking over your face. "Thanks for coming." 
He leans in and kisses your cheek. Delighted warmth curls in your stomach, worse when he passes you the bouquet of flowers. They've mostly survived his poor treatment, and there's a lot of them. He's left the price tag on and you're not sure if he's noticed. You pretend not to see it. 
"Thank you…” You look away from the flowers, all whites and reds and baby’s breath, to ogle him as subtly as you can manage. “Wow, you've caught the sun. Was it lovely in San Marino?" 
"I'll tell you all about it over dinner,” he says. “I thought we'd walk, it's not far." He holds out his hand. You wipe your palm against your side before you take it, worried you'll have clammy hands. He must guess, because he says, "Don't be nervous." 
"I am," you say hopelessly. "I've never been on a date before." 
"This is your first date?" 
You feel a hot flush coming on. "I– yeah. That's embarrassing, I shouldn't have told you that." 
"No, it's a good thing. Now I know it has to be extra special." 
"It doesn't," you say. 
"I was hoping it would be." He pulls you down the pavement and further into the city centre toward the main high street. "San Marino. It was beautiful, and I took a couple of photos but I didn't have room on my phone. Well, I could've deleted Snake–" 
"Why would you?" you joke, grinning. 
He laughs, and squeezes your hand slightly. "Exactly. I have priorities. It's a long flight, and looking over the photos can only take up so much time. No, but it really was… it was beautiful. I'd never given much thought to a destination wedding. They make sense, right? It's the best day of your life, why would you have it here?" 
He tilts his chin toward the grey sky. You look up with him, feeling the cold wind kiss the sides of your face and pull through your hair. 
"Come on, Remus, it's not that bad. If it's sun you're after, you could just wait for British summer time. You know, the whole three days of it." 
He laughs — you've made him laugh twice already. This is going okay. Laughing while looking at one another, a bouquet in one hand and his hand in the other, you feel that curl of delight begin to bloom. It fills your insides up, has you smiling until your eyelashes brush in the corners. 
"It was James' wedding. Do you remember which one that was?" 
He asks so kindly. You don't doubt for a second that he wouldn't care if you forgot. It's refreshing, even if it's something you'd expect. 
"I remember. I didn't realise he was getting married." 
"Don't ever say that in front of him, he'll put himself on the cross." He swings your hand as you turn a corner. The Italian restaurant you'd agreed on winks from a distance. 
"He's devoted," you guess. 
"He's insane. He was worse when we were younger. His girlfriend– his wife," he amends, "Lily, she's really something else. Warm and funny, but she's been keeping him on his toes for years. She has family in San Marino, hence the wedding." 
You listen to him talk eagerly. His voice is as handsome as his face, and the more he says the less stilted he becomes. There had been a strained quality to it before (strained, or restrained? something he wasn't saying) that's all but disappeared. 
"It was like a movie. White linen, sand, crying." 
"Did you cry?" you ask, expecting a puffed up chest. 
"So much. Too much, maybe. I was half of the best man." 
"Half?" 
"We had to share, me and Sirius. They've always been…" Remus slows his steps. "Am I being boring? I'm talking too much about me." 
"We have time. I want to hear it. I'd like to hear it," you say. 
James and Sirius are brothers. Remus sees your surprised look and doesn't condemn you for it. Sirius is unofficially adopted. The Potter's fostered him from ages thirteen until he aged out, and though they tried to adopt him, Sirius was reluctant. Remus doesn't get into the reasons beyond that, and you don't ask. You suspect he's only telling you about it to drive home how much the Potter's love Sirius. How much James does. 
Remus had been Sirius' friend from their very first year of comprehensive school. Sirius moved in with the Potter's, and, adoring as they were, they let him have friends over whenever he liked. James, Sirius, and Remus spent the next decade together like that, hiding in Sirius' room. Best friends, entirely inseparable, and all fiercely protective of each other. 
"They've always been like brothers." 
"But not…" 
He understands what you're worried to say. "I think it would've been weird… I had a candle burning for James. For a long time." 
Your jaw drops a little. "And you just had to watch him have the most romantic wedding ever," you whisper sympathetically. You're joking: it's clear the candle isn't burning now. 
"Told you I cried," he says. "No, but you've seen him. He's a supermodel. It's awful." 
"Remus, I think you might be underestimating how handsome you are," you say. You bite your lip and look at his chin rather than his eyes. 
He's generous. He gives your wrist a tug and chuckles warmly. "I'm glad you think so. Tonight might have been awkward, otherwise." 
You duck together inside of the restaurant, hands falling apart as Remus gives his last name for the reservation. Lupin. Your face has a mind of its own. 
"Charming, isn't it?" 
"It is," you say emphatically, denying his sarcasm. "I've never heard anything like that. Lupine, like a fox?" 
"Wolf."
A server shows you to your table and hands you two leather covered menus. Leather, not plastic, a sign that tonight is going to be classy. You've dressed for the occasion in a smart blouse and slacks, too terrified of wearing a dress. Remus seems to have done the same as you, reaching for smart but dodging the mark in a button down and a casual jacket. When he takes off his coat, he looks perfect. He fits right in. 
"Could we get a glass?" he asks the server. "For the flowers? If it's not too much trouble." 
"No trouble at all." 
You run your hand across the silken tablecloth and the space between you both feels somehow smaller than when you'd been holding hands. Outside, you could let your gaze drift to the pavement, the fenced in trees, the couples that passed you by. Here, you're forced to watch one another. 
It's not so bad. It's agonising. 
"This is weird," you say. You flinch when you hear yourself. "Sorry, not that you're weird! I'm weird. I've never ever done this." 
"No, I know," he says, almost murmuring, "it's okay." 
"I just blurted out what I was thinking–" 
"I know." He sits back in his chair. His head tilts down, his eyelashes kissing the skin above his brows as he fixes you with a look. It has the intended effect, tension easing from your rigid spine and tight shoulders. "This is weird. But it's still early. It could get weirder." 
You like that he says it as if it's a good thing. 
You order the same thing he does, and you don't turn down his offer to get a bottle of wine, though it feels too grown up. You keep forgetting you're an adult, and that your life isn't on hold. Things can happen to you at any time. 
"I want to address the elephant in the room," he says. 
Not promising. "Okay." 
"Are we having dessert?" Remus leans forward on both forearms. Hair falls in his eyes. He's dressed nicely and he's handsome but there's something homespun about him, something golden. You can't help looking at him and thinking impossibly forward thoughts, cheesy waffle from the films. He's familiar. "Nobody ever wants to get dessert with me. It's actually a real issue for me." 
"I'll get dessert with you." A smoother you with more confidence, who wore the dress and asked him to go to the Thai restaurant instead, would've said something more suave. We're having whatever you want, handsome.
Remus flips the menu to the very last page and reads the desserts aloud. For himself, it seems, half-muttered and apprehensive. "Chocolate cake from places like this will either be the nicest thing we've ever eaten or burnt in the microwave. And it's childish that I want chocolate cake. I should be spoon feeding you creme brulee. Or whipped cream and strawberries." 
He tips his head back and rubs his eyes. It's a charade of feigned self loathing that makes you laugh. 
"I'm a child," he laments, thumb and index finger pressed into his eyes. He checks to see if you're watching before doubling down. 
"I like cake," you say, and you'd lie if you thought it was what he wanted to hear. Handsome, kind, and funny. Not to mention talented. He needs smart for the sweep. 
Remus falls out of his dramatics. You mourn the loss, beggy a good look on him, but forget all about it when he slides his chair around the table to share the menu with you, your heads inclined as you read it together again. He smells woody. You hope he likes the jasmine of your perfume. 
"It all sounds really nice," you confide, afraid to disturb the comfortable hush. "I haven't had gelato since I was a kid. Oh, did they have real gelato in San Marino?"
“They had a lot of stuff in San Marino… I want to hear about you.”
“What do you want to hear?”
The questions start and don’t stop. Where did you grow up? That’s the easy part. What did you study in school? Were you in sports? The art club? And what do you do now, when you aren’t working in the cafe? The more he asks, the easier it is to answer. He doesn’t slow when the waiter brings a glass for your bouquet, simply stands and places them inside with exceedingly gentle hands, smiling at you from between the stems. You eat slowly when the food arrives — you're busy talking. 
It feels fucking amazing. To have someone want to know anything about you. And unless he’s an actor of the highest regard, he’s obviously enjoying your conversations, though they wilt and wane and wind around one another. You lose track of time and thread as the night goes on, distracted by the near unnoticeable asymmetry of his smile, and the way he laughs when you laugh, like an echo. 
You get cake like he wanted. Triple fudge cake with buttercream thick but melting from the heat. It looks straight from the pages of a magazine, glossy and dusted with sugar powder, but he doesn’t seem to like it. He takes a couple of bites and leaves it alone. You don’t want to look greedy, so you do the same. 
The date is suddenly over. 
“Could I walk you home?” he asks, when you’ve both put your coats back on, and the damp roots of your flowers are leaving an imprint on your chest. 
You nod rather than answer. 
Things are good, not perfect. That’s what you keep thinking. There’s something he isn’t saying. Or, horrifyingly, something he doesn’t like about you. Still, the sky is velvet black and the air is crisp. Stars like needlepoints dot the air. Street lights work to hide them, casting a warm yellow glow over the pavements and your meandering shoes. 
A brisk wind whips past you. You shiver and press your lips together hard, hands quick to rigidity. Remus looks at you sideways, and breaks the quiet. “Are you cold?”
“A little.” No point in lying when he can see you trembling. 
“Do you want my coat?”
“No, no, it’s alright–“ You cut off as he steps in front of you, his hand vying for yours. 
He tucks the flowers under his arm and sandwiches your fingers between his. He has short fingernails, and another scar down one pinky finger. How’d you get that one? you want to ask. How’d you get any of them?
His breath clouds the air. “I should’ve thought about the cold.”
“This is better,” you say. Than a warm taxi home. His thumbs brushing down the backs of your hands. 
You walk to your flat building and hesitate at the foyer door. The potential for a kiss goodnight has flayed your thoughts. The image of his hands climbing your arms, holding you still, plays like a flickering film. You have no idea if he’s going to do it. 
“How will you get home?” you ask quietly. 
“I parked by the cafe, it isn’t far.”
“Oh…” The lights from your building paint him the faintest shade of pink. Your breath fogs out in front of you, as does his, and the warmth of walking will soon fade. “I–“
“Here,” he says, handing you the flowers again. 
“Thank you. They’re beautiful.”
“Fits the recipient.”
It takes a second for you to get it. Oh, you think. You can hardly feel the cold now. Your heart hurts, and you’re begging him to want to take a step toward you. The silence goes for too long. 
“I– I’d love to see you again,” you say. Love comes out funny. Maybe because you can feel his rejection coming. 
“I won’t be here next week. Not for a long time. We’re touring properly, now.” He scratches the side of his face.
“Right. Right, of course you are. Um, good luck with that. And thank you for tonight, for dinner.” You wave your flowers weakly. 
He looks at you. He takes a half step toward you. You can see his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows. 
“You really are pretty,” he says finally. “Goodnight.”
He smiles quick and turns quicker. You watch him walk a few steps but ultimately can’t face it, pushing into the foyer of your building with a hardset frown. Your hands shake, minute abstractions of the sharp rejection panging in your chest. Your ears roar and then go quiet. What did I do wrong? you think, shocked and upset and trying to rationalise. He doesn’t have to kiss you. He asked you out on a maybe, and now whatever question he had is answered. 
The door creaks open. You spin on your heel, too wrapped up to think about hiding your expression. Remus stands in the doorway of the porch, his arm pressed to the glass panel, the other held out to you. 
"Come here," he says quietly. It isn't a question, but he's asking. 
You step into his reach, letting him pull you by the waist against his chest. He leans down until his nose glances against ýours, and he starts to say something. You push your chin up in your eagerness and he doesn't try again. He kisses you, once, contrite, and he pulls back and his hand clasps your arm tight as he ducks in for another. His lips are fast to lose the cold of the weather, but his tongue is a hot shock at the seam of your own. 
You go weak in his arms. The flowers between you crunch and smother themselves. You can’t think about it. Your hands are numb. He takes over every one of your senses until you’re more kiss than thought, reciprocating his slow, deep searching. You run out of breath. 
He eases you backward, cupping the side of your head in his big palm. 
“I want to see you again,” he says hoarsely. “But I– I don’t know when I’ll be back.” His hand adjusts against your cheek, like he’s worried you’re slipping out of his hold. “I don’t know what to do.”
“I can wait,” you say. 
“I couldn’t ask you to.”
You rub your buzzing lips together, each heaven of your chest marked by the crinkling sound of cellophane. 
“Do you want to come upstairs?” you ask.
He strokes the edge of your mouth with his thumb. “Are you sure?”
You kiss him. You don’t know if this will work, any of it, the broad stroke or this one night, but you want him. 
Remus doesn’t know what he’s doing. He knows how to fuck somebody, that isn’t the problem. He doesn’t know what he’s doing with you. The same thing that made him walk away had pulled him right back in, had him skipping steps on the staircase up to your flat, drinking in the back of your head and roll of your shoulders as you’d made apologies for the mess inside.
He doesn’t feel like himself when he’s with you. He thinks of it like this — what he is, his pain, his wants, that’s all set in stone. Any change is an erosion, and little by little over the years he’s managed to whittle himself down into the smallest, cleanest version of himself. Then suddenly the band’s making money, people are listening to his voice on the radio in countries all over the world, and he can’t hide anymore. Maybe he hadn’t wanted to, after all. What else inspires a performer into the spotlight? The music, he thinks desperately, knowing it’s half a lie. 
Isn’t it why he’d asked you to the show? Come and watch me sing. See me at my most impressive. My most curated. 
And now he’s following you into your bedroom after one date, about to strip it all away. 
“You didn’t have too much wine, did you?” he asks. You hadn’t really finished your first glass, but it won’t hurt to make sure. 
You peel your jacket off and drop it over the back of a wide armchair. “I don’t think so. Did you?”
“No.” His head has never been this clear. 
He thinks about what you said. This is your first date, and he’s not clueless enough to assume that never going on a date means never having sex, but he wants to be careful with you anyway. He wants this to last beyond a dinner date. 
Which means he has to get out of his head. 
Beyond all of his own mess, he really does think you're pretty. More than pretty. You’re beautiful, and your voice… 
He wants to see what other sounds you make. 
Remus gets his hands on you. Soft touches, his hands coasting from your elbows to your warming hands. He squeezes your fingers, leaning in for a quick kiss. He rests his nose against the skin beneath your eye. “Tell me if it’s too much?” he asks, a murmur of hot air. 
“Yeah.”
“I’ll go slowly.”
“Okay.” Your voice is barely audible. 
He pulls away to make sure you’re alright, and is surprised to see a glassy sheen in your eyes. He holds your face in both hands and works your lips open against his, guiding you backwards into the plush of your poorly made bed. He’s all sweet touches and eager kisses, cautious not to hurt you, or let too much of his weight press against your soft torso. His kisses follow to the corner of your mouth, the tip of his nose tender against your cheek. “You’re so quiet,” he says. He isn’t complaining, but he wants to hear your voice. 
“I’m a bit preoccupied.”
He laughs into your skin, kissing down to your jaw. “You’re right,” he says, revelling in the goosebumps that rise under his hands. 
Your shaking inhales cleave a pit in his stomach. He mouths at the side of your neck, half-kisses, tiny warning nips before he thumbs open the first button of your shirt. He meanders, dropping a path crescent moon kisses into your front until the fabric of your bra gets in the way. The soft hill of your breast staggers to a halt beneath him. He can tell that you’re holding deliberately still. 
Kisses. You need more kisses, an absolution from any lingering nervousness. Your hands thread into his hair gently, your fingers raking wavy strands behind his ears as you give in. You melt into your sheets, your legs parting from the pressure of his hips. 
Your hands fall from his hair to needle between your two bodies and undo the rest of your buttons. The fabric falls aside, your chest and tummy his to catalogue. He drops his hand against your stomach, smoothing a line down to your slacks. His lips ache against yours as he asks, “Can I?”
“Please.”
“Please?” he says back, mirroring your soft tone. “You think you need to say please?” His pinky bumps under the waistband of your trousers. There isn’t much give. He traces the lining to your zipper, fiddling with the small piece of metal as your eyes darken. “I should be the one saying it.” His voice keeps dropping, an utterance in the shell of your ear, his words for you and you alone. “I’m at your mercy, dove. Don’t say please with me. Okay?” 
He smiles at your daunted expression. “Can I take these off?” he asks you, his fingertip running under the edge of your underwear. “Please?” he teases.
Your skin is a furnace, hot hot hot everywhere he touches as you nod your permission and Remus undresses you, one piece of clothing at a time. Your trousers, your shirt. Your bra, your underwear. His fingers slip in his ardency as he tears out of his own button down. 
Your thumb traces a scar. 
He looks up from your chest, startled, but you aren’t giving him anything he doesn’t want. There’s no pity in your gaze, no curiosity, no sadness. Just lust, your trembling hands pulling his slacks down the lengths of his thighs. 
He pulls the condom from his wallet in his pocket and lets it fall to the floor. 
Remus hooks his hands under your arms and urges you back against the headboard, a pillow behind your head, your thighs tipping open as his hand runs down between them. He grabs at them greedily, handfuls of fat that have his mouth dry as a bone. 
“Has anyone ever done this to you before?” he asks. He needs to know.
You squeeze your eyes closed and shake your head. 
Fuck. “Hey, look at me,” he says, waiting for your eyes to meet before continuing. “I just want to make you feel good. If I don’t, you let me know.”
He waits for you to answer aloud. “I will,” you say, your hand behind his back and urging him forward. “Please.”
“What did I say?” he jokes gently, letting his weight bear down on you again. 
He closes his eyes, his lips in what feels like a new home at the juncture of your neck. His hands skirt dangerously close to your heat. 
He’s gentle. He rubs a sweeping line against your cunt with the front of his fingers, heart hammering fast as a mouse’s when he finds the little button of your clit. You shiver and shudder and squirm as he toys with you, your fingers steadfast against the plane of his back while he opens you up. His lips part in tandem, not nearly as kind as his hands. His teeth scratch against your throat. 
Your soft moans move through him as he hickeys over your pulse, chasing each capering thud of blood. He winds you up. You’re snug around his fingers, fluttering, and he knows he’s probed something sweet when your breath catches and you whine. 
“Was that alright?” he asks. 
You nod, heavy headed, and lick your lips as he tears open the condom and eases it onto his cock, one measured roll at a time. 
“Can you– I want you to–” You turn your face from him, the line of your jaw kissed by the lamplight outside, and the rest hidden. 
He drags you down to lay flat on your back and holds himself over you, nudging his nose against yours until you lift your head. Face to face, he gives himself time to adore the shape and colour of your eyes, the side of his hand brushing along your cheek. “Do you think you’re ready?” he asks sincerely. The slickness between your legs is obvious, but he doesn’t want to blindside you. “It will feel…”
You nod, saving him the explanation. It will feel weird. Good, but foreign. “Will you kiss me again?” you ask feebly.
He can’t stop himself. He kisses your lips sore, his hand behind the crook of your knee pushing your leg up toward your stomach as he slides into the space he’s made there. He breaks the kiss to listen to your breathing as he pushes forward.
Remus hadn’t been lying — he wants it to feel good. He takes it slow, his thrusting almost languid as you get to grips with the feeling. He pulls his bottom lip between his teeth and bites down hard, struggling to smother the moan that escapes him as he feels you clench around him. You gasp, your arms tightening around his waist, destroying any semblance of space between your sweat-damp bodies as you hold him tight. He murmurs praises in your ear, his forearms tucked beneath your shoulder blades, hands gripping your shoulders a touch too hard. He can’t remember the last time he was this close to somebody, can’t remember ever feeling so maddeningly lost, like he’s one good push from hurtling over the edge. 
He kisses your cheek, calling you all the things he’d been too scared to say before. “Lovely girl,” he pants, “how’s that feel?” And, when you answer, “Yeah, you’re taking it so well, dove. Think you can take a little more?”
All that nervousness and desperation shrinks down to dust, and the smiling girl he’d been with at dinner comes to the forefront. There’s no mistaking it. You giggle something awful and turn your face into his, kissing him between sounds, dizzying him with the tender scratch of your nails down his back as he starts to move. 
“There she is,” he says lightly, almost smirking. “Feel good?”
“Feels– oh,” —you shiver violently, filled all the way up— “feels good.” 
Remus let’s his forehead fall to your chin, his eyes closed in pleasure, his cock to the hilt. Every move he makes evokes a near sinful sound from you, mewling, silvery whimpers and pleased little laughs when he angles his hips right. He’s a mess, desperate to cum from the second you touched him and running on stolen time as he presses you deep into your mattress. One of your hands flies backward into the pillows and scrunches up into a ball, the look on your face too tempting to ignore. 
The first time you fuck someone — it’s never timed right. Remus knows he hasn’t quite figured you out, but he knows enough to get you where he wants you. He slides his hand between your bodies and your soft cunt to draw circles into your clit, entranced by your twitching lashes as the pleasure builds. You chase him with your hips, and he grabs your hand at the last second to stop you from covering your mouth, holding it above your head as you come apart. 
He cooes at you. The sound you make — the breathless little cry that leaves you, your hips jutting up to meet him. He’s at your mercy, just like he said. 
Remus fucks into the extra tightness, drawing your climax out for as long as he can. You’re smiling as you shove his arm away, a playful chastisement that wanes when you see the look on his face. “Are you close?” you ask, brushing a curled strand of hair from his eyes. 
Close? Remus is fucked. 
“You can go faster,” you say, “rougher, whatever you want.”
“Shit,” he hisses, leaning back. 
His rutting hips slap the backs of your thighs. He squeezes your waist, his eyes fixed on your cunt as it pulls him in. One last wavering, “Oh, fuck,” from you is all it takes for Remus to lose it. White hot pleasure tightens his whole body, his abdomen aflame. You scramble to gather him back into your arms. You kiss him, swallowing his resulting string of moans. 
He has to catch his breath afterward. You comb the hair back from his face, your eyes droopy with pleasure.
“Did I hurt you?” he asks, voice stringy.
“Of course not.” You’re quickly losing your confidence. Remus hates it, but he understands. This vulnerability can only stretch so far. 
“Let me clean you up,” he says.
“You look like you’re gonna fall over if you stand.”
He strokes your face with the back of his ring finger, his nail ghosting along the highest point of your cheek. “Funny,” he says dryly. 
He gets confused in your bathroom, and you won’t let him towel you off, but when he lies down beside you with his boxers back in place you don’t push him away. You drop your face into his chest and curl up. 
He drags the quilt over your naked back. 
Was that okay? he wants to ask. “Sore?” he worries instead. 
“Don’t think so.”
He chews his cheek. “You’re alright?”
You stir, looking up at him through your lashes. He thinks you’re the kind of pretty people might not always see. You’re clearly beautiful, but there’s something else to it. The way you move, maybe. The way your eyes smile before your lips can catch up. 
“I’m fine. I’m good… Can I…”
He hums. “What?”
“Could I kiss you again?” 
You speak so quietly, he hears the vibration in your throat more than the sound of your voice. It’s endearingly timid. He feels his attraction for you flare violently. 
He wants to ask you to come with him to Cardiff. He knows he can’t. It’s yards too soon, but for a second he entertains the thought. 
“Wait for me to come home,” he says. He’s still asking for more than he should. “I want to see you again. You can kiss me as much as you want, if you say you’ll wait.”
You nod immediately. Not a flicker of reluctance to be seen. 
You lift your chin and kiss him. He tries to make it the kind of kiss worth waiting for.  
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
thank you for reading! i hope you enjoyed! if you did, please consider reblogging cos it helps more than you might think <3
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sofs16 · 5 months
Text
a paddock day
charles x civilian!reader
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yn
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liked by yourbsf, and 12 others yn yo soy muy feliz aqui ! hasta mañanaaaaaa barcelona gp, te quiero mucho! [i am very happy here! see you tomorrow barcelona gp, i love you very much!]
view all 27 comments
yourbsf finally main girl gets to watch a gp!
⤷ yn literally jumped on this plane last night im shivering and quaking.
yourfriend ATE THAT UPPPPPP!!! WNJOY
⤷ yn THANKS BABESSS
yourbsf im literally telling u they’ll see u and go WOAH WOSH WASH! then theyll fall in love with you and you’ll be those lowkey ass wags
⤷ yn Should I just wear a giant banana costume to get their attention
⤷ yourbsf DUHHHH!!! and go public, theyll stalk you and follow u and ull go famous
⤷ yn what happened to being lowkey ass wag
⤷ yourbsf i can be your wag😊💋
yn instagram stories:
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you strolled through the paddock through all motorhomes like a little girl, contained with excitement. a lot of people were there but somehow, not in front of the ferrari motorhome.
you saw a man dressed in all black (kind of stupid since it was burning hot) with black sunglasses as a hat on his head walk you way. “um excuse me? would you mind if you took my photo please?” you approached him as he turned to you
he looked at you but of course, he was wearing the sunglasses so you wouldn’t tell what he was thinking. did he not speak english?
“tu no hablas ingles?” you asked “Oh! No, sorry. I do speak english and of course. Where would you want to take it?” He said in a foreign language.
“Just here” you walked over to the 55 wall “You are a fan of Sainz?” He took your phone as you walked over “Both of them, but my best friend loves him and couldn’t come so I thought I’d send her a photo” you laughed as he did as well.
He took a few photos as you stood in front of the wall. “Leclerc or Sainz, for you?” He asked, handing you back your phone “Both” you said in an obvious manner
“Life or death” he laughed “….Leclerc… though, Ferrari needs to stop fucking him over so he can get another win” You shrugged, putting your phone in your pocket as he nodded with a smile. “You?” “Leclerc!” He exclaimed as you giggled, this man was quite fun.
“I lit a few candles today in hopes he might win, I really hope he does. Or any Ferrari win” You said “Do you have a number?” He asked stupid question he thought “I’m sorry— that was a stupid question” you laughed “Do you mind if we exchanged them?” You scratched you head “Um… ad much as I want to, I don’t exchange numbers with random attractive guys, I’m sorry” you laughed “Attractive? Thank you” “Well seeing as I can only see half your face…” you felt your phone start to vibrate and saw your friend calling you
“I have to go but it was lovely meeting you! I hope we get our Leclerc win today!” You started to walk backwards “You too!” You turned around, putting your phone to your ear as you head your best friend’s scream, unknowing that Charles’ eyes lingered on you.
It was only free practice today. He hoped to see you around more.
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liked by 20 others yn LALALALALA
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yourbsf LETS GO BITCH 55!!!!!!! yourbsf still think u shouldve given hottie your instagram
⤷ yn i got NERVOUS
june 2, 2023
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liked by 21 others yn POLE POSITION LETS GO BABYGIRL
view all 23 comments
yourbsf CHARLES BABYGIRL LECLERC
⤷ yn FUCK YEAH
june 3, 2023
You were admiring the paddock once again, now race day, as you heard the familiar voice behind you. “I hope we get our Leclerc win today” you hear behind you and you start to smile. You turned around and your heart sank to your ass.
Charles babygirl Leclerc was smiling at you “excuse me?” you mumbled, mouth slightly ajar “I know, I was in a more casual outfit yesterday” he laughed and you looked him up and down, wearing his red Ferrari suit “es muy stúpida” you mumbled
“I know you maybe think this is weird but— I could really not stop thinking about you for the last few days and have been trying to find you” He chuckled softly as you felt like you hit your head on the pavement. Charles Leclerc looking for YOU?
“Well, you found me! Congrats on pole by the way” “Thank you! Though I hope to win tomorrow, for the both of us” “Oh please, I can’t take another Ferrari loss” you closed your eyes.
“You are spanish?” He asked “Oh, no! I just like learning languages and visit here a lot” you said “Would you mind… if you showed me Barcelona some time?” was he asking you out? “I- uhm- sure” you fumbled “You don’t give your number, so what about Instagram?” He smiled
“Sure” you grabbed your phone and showed it to him as he searched it up on his phone and suddenly, he was being called by fans. “It was nice seeing you again!” You walked as fast as you could to the other side and he smiled, shaking his head. yn
| charles_leclerc has requested to follow you! 1h
request accepted!
yn
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liked by charles_leclerc, and 25 others
yn did not go with the banana outfit @yourbsf. so so sad its over BUT WE GOT A FUCKING LECLERC WIN AND DOUBLE FERRARI PODIUM LETS GO
view all 40 comments
yourbsf babes idt u needed the outfit…….
⤷ yn 🙂.
charles_leclerc You are welcome
⤷ yn thank you (and carlitos) for stopping the ferrari drought
yourfriend 😊 LETS GO BITCH
june 4, 2023
| charles_leclerc liked your story. 10m
| charles_leclerc liked your post. 7m
| charles_leclerc liked your post. 3m
yn
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liked by charles_leclerc, and 12 others
yn mb my definition of “explore” is a museum LECLERC
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charles_leclerc I enjoyed every moment, stop apologizing cherie. We need another one for more exploring! june 8, 2023
charles.16
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liked by 2,594 others
charles.16 WHO IS THIS NEW WAG
view all 179 comments
chalando1 chilll probs just a fan
⤷ charles.16 they 😭 exchanged 😭 instagrams😭
updatef1I I FOUND HER @yn
⤷ yn no you didn’t
[COMMENT DELETED!]
f1w4gs SHES SO FUNNY I LOVE HER ALREADY june 8, 2023
f1wags._
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liked by 3,281 others
f1wag._ Meet Yn Yln! Charles and her have been spending more time together and were rumored to have met in the Barcelona GP! We don’t know much about her as she’s very private but we’re already loving her humor!
#charlesleclerc #yn
view all 219 comments
f1circuitzz Whatt!!! She’s so beautiful
chacha16 What does she do and what country does she live in?
⤷ f1wag._ We know she is German but we don’t know if she still lives there. She’s a fashion student but don’t know what college/university!
ynsfan11 giggling at the bio
yncharles NEED HER AT THE PADDOCK / GARAGE AGAIN
user1 watch them be together for a week
user3 charles switched to blondes 🌝
june 8, 2023
charlesaep
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liked by 6,272 others
charlesaep I CANT BREATHE YN AND CHARLES WERE RIGHT IN FRONT OF ME IM SWESTING IM CURING WHETHTHRUFKC
view all 328 comments
User1 why can’t she just walk
⤷ yntcdts calm down😭 theyre cute
june 10, 2023
yn
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liked by charles_leclerc, and 8 others
yn i got a photographer now 🥹
view all 20 comments charles_leclerc i am “a photographer”
⤷ yourbsf i was THE photographer before you Charles Leclerc. ⤷ charles_leclerc But I am now her favorite one😂
⤷ yourbsf I HATE YOU. YN DUMP HIM
⤷ charles_leclerc NO
⤷ yn why would i dump him? he’s a 2 in one (driver and photographer) / im kidding sharl loveu
⤷ charles_leclerc I mean, I do love driving you around
⤷ yourbsf you both are disgusting
⤷ yn get dick
june 11, 2023
yn
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liked by charles_leclerc, pierregasly and 11 others yn is this montREAL?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!? view all 8 comments
charles_leclerc I love it when my girl is a fangirl 😘
charles_leclerc ma belleeeeeeeeee
yourbsf Can I come
⤷ charles_leclerc Am I the best friend
⤷ yourbsf oh fuck you
charles_leclerc Your caption is funny, I love it
⤷ yn thanks sharlie 🥹🥹🥹❤️‍🩹
june 13, 2023
| yukitsunoda0511 has requested to follow you! 1h
| pierregasly has requested to follow you! 1h | landonorris has requested to follow you! 1h | carlossainz55 has requested to follow you! 1h
| fernandoalo_oficial has requested to follow you! 1h
| francisca.cgomez has requested to follow you! 1h
| carmenmmundt has requested to follow you! 1h
you just accepted 7 requests
yn
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liked by charles_leclerc, carlossainz55, and 30 others
yn SOOO PROUD!!!! CHARLES CAME BACK AND IS NOW A WORLD CHAMPION IM SHAKING?! CONGRATS TO FERRARI ON BEING GETTING WORLD CONSTRUCTORS CHAMPIONSHIP AS WELL IM SHAKING
view all 59 comments
charles_leclerc Could not have done this without you, chérie
⤷ yn love u sm babyyyyy⛄️ im scared though why are half the grid following me back (i ofc accepted)
⤷ landonorris because he just ranted to us for TWO HOURS (he always does but for a few mins) about you and how amazing you are, mate! Had to see what the fuss was about
⤷ charles_leclerc Thanks, Lando.
⤷ yn IM GOING TO CRYYYY LOVEU SHARL
francisca.cgomez You’re such a beauty!!! Loved seeing you today💞 Congrats, Charles!
october 22, 2023
charles_leclerc
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liked by yn, and 8,559,282 others
charles_leclerc Another post about the Championship but this time for the person beside me who motivated me the most. My beautiful girlfriend, @yn, you are my everything. I love you more than you love pasta❤️
view all 1,181,292 comments
yn good morning?????????????????? WHAT
yn YOU DID THISBALL YOURSELF IM SO PROUD OF YOU LFG
⤷ yn ball
⤷ yncha16 AHAHAHAHAH SHES SO SILLY
⤷ charles_leclerc Without you, I wouldn’t push myself! So technically, you helped. ⤷ yn id do it again ml
ynsbabe yn public when
⤷ yn when sharl learns how to cook pasta 👨‍🍳
⤷ charles_leclerc Goodluck @ynsbabe
october 23, 2023
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#SOF : are we feelin a part 2 ??? #FUTURE SOF: pt2!
2K notes · View notes
trblsvt · 1 year
Text
for the books | jeon wonwoo
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summary | wonwoo's students seemed intent on matching him up with a fellow teacher. he didn't really want to stop them, it was too funny for him to break up their fun. plus, he didn't mind the certain someone he was being "set up" with. genre | fluff, teacher!au warnings | none, i think let me know! word count | 2.2k words pairing | jeon wonwoo x fem!reader min | lowercase intended i literally put off my other works to write this! delulu era to the max! i advocate for women in stem!!! also! this is like an american high school-level setting. lily is so out of pocket LOL (believe it or not there is a girl just like her at my school). this was 100% self-indulgent
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"mr. jeon!" his student lily called. "so you're telling me that after all that, she still hasn't kissed him?" he looked up from his desk and looked over to his obviously distraught student. "lily! i didn't even finish it yet!" her friend mina yelled at her.
"i'm sorry! it's just so crazy how they didn't even kiss! even after they made up and he said all of that to her!" lily huffed.
"what did he say to her? i haven't gotten there yet either," daniel piped in.
"just read it! i'm sorry i brought it up in the first place," lily sighed and pulled out the worksheets she was supposed to complete after reading the book. he shook his head and went back to inputting grades into his computer. it was silly to think lily was just going to do her work. "mr. jeon, do you have a girlfriend?" she asked putting her pencil down. he paused momentarily, fingers hovering over the keyboard. "dude, that's so not cool for you to ask mr. jeon," daniel complained.
"what? we're reading this romantic novel, is it not fair to ask our english teacher if he's in a relationship?" lily replied, crossing her arms. "i mean we have to be reading this book for some reason."
"maybe it's just a part of the curriculum," mina rolled her eyes.
"do you seriously think mr. jeon is sending us subminimal signals about his love life through the books we're reading?" daniel asked.
"i don't know! maybe!" lily said. the three of them continued to argue back and forth at their table. wonwoo should probably stop this before the other students get irritated with the trio. "guys, i can assure you, i am not sending any messages about my love life. please get back to your work," wonwoo cleared his throat. he heard a disappointed noise, but pencils went back to scratching and pages started flipping again. soon it was the end of the class period and everyone was packing up. it was just lily. "next time, please refrain from asking personal questions in class," he asked.
"yes, of course. i'm sorry mr. jeon," lily bowed her head.
"it's alright. it can just be a bit distracting for your classmates. let's try to be more considerate."
"will do," she said, turning on her heel.
"oh and lily, just between me and you," wonwoo paused. "i don't have a girlfriend."
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"he said he wasn't in a relationship!" lily cheered. daniel stared at her baffled, "didn't he say not to tell anyone?"
"yeah, but i mean, he must know that i'm going to tell you guys. you guys don't seem as nearly as excited about this as i do."
"why would we be? he's single, it's not like you have a chance with him or something," mina commented.
"no! ew! i would never try to go after a teacher, are you crazy? i'm saying that this is a perfect opportunity for us to get mr. jeon a date!" lily practically squealed.
"a date? with who?"
"with miss ___, of course! who else? haven't you guys ever noticed that they spend almost every lunch period with each other? they're so cute together!"
"maybe they're just planning classes or something," daniel shrugged.
"um, hello? mr. jeon teachers english literature and miss ___ teaches physics b. what would they planning together?"
"touché."
"i think it's time to enact a master plan."
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"so everyone understands this equation, right?" you said, turning back to face the class. "tell me now, so i can help. this equation is the very foundation to magnetism, if you don't get it now i can't promise you'll do well in this unit."
no one put their hand up. you smiled, "oh well, i guess we just have a bunch of physic masters in this class. but seriously, let me know if you need help. you can start working on your homework packet now, this way if you have questions you can ask them now. i don't need your frantic emails at midnight."
you returned to your desk and flipped through some lesson plans. you didn't get to finish eating lunch today, so you took out your lunch bag. a small slip of paper fell out of it and onto the ground. you smiled to yourself and reached down to pick it up. "miss ___!" your student lily said, she was standing at the foot of your desk.
"yes, lily?" you answered.
"i have a question about something."
"have at it."
"it isn't physics related though." you looked up, slipping the slip into your pocket. "then, what's it about? do you need to go to the nurse?" you frowned.
"no it's nothing like that, but i was told by another teacher not to ask questions like this in front of the whole class. he said it was inconsiderate," she shrugged.
"oh, um, well i guess you can go ahead."
"are you friends with mr. jeon?"
you froze. mr. jeon? as in english literature teacher mr. jeon? mr. jeon you eat lunch with him every day mr. jeon? maybe they started picking up on something. "well, yeah, i guess you could say that," you coughed. "why are you asking this all a sudden?"
"well, i came by mr. jeon's class before lunch to ask him about an assignment and i saw you there. i didn't want to interrupt, but i didn't know you guys were friends," she shrugged, averting her eyes.
"oh well, yes. mr. jeon started at his position around the same time i did a few years ago. so we got close because of that."
"that's so- i mean, i'm sorry to pry. i was just curious. i mean usually i don't see english teachers and physics teachers talk that much. thanks!"
the whole exchange left you a little baffled.
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lily seemed determined to get you and wonwoo together. she began to pry more often and she was getting bolder one question at a time. she even asked if you were in a relationship and if you got you cute gifts for birthdays and holidays from your boyfriend. sometimes she got very bold and mentioned mr. jeon by name. "miss ___, don't you think mr. jeon is cute? you two would be so cute together." you had replied, "i don't think this is time or the place to talk about this, lily. please do your practice problems." you rolled your eyes, "i don't feel like i'm at liberty to answer that."
you couldn't bring yourself to actually discipline her or her friends (who had seemingly joined in on the deep dive about your love life). they were curious teenagers looking for gossip. hell, you were like that too. you felt it would be unfair to punish them for that, as long as it didn't get too inappropriate, you didn't mind. it was a bit endearing too.
you just had to push the thought out of your mind. it was time to go to lunch anyway. it was the perfect time to clear your head.
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"has lily been asking you some personal questions lately?" wonwoo asked, leaning back in his chair. god, he looked so handsome today. his glasses, pressed shirt, and ironed pants. "yes, has she been causing a raucous here too?" you asked, taking a seat at one of the desks.
"well, she asked me if i think you're beautiful," he chuckled.
you paused. you would be lying if you said you didn't feel anything for the man sitting in front of you. he was smart and kind.
"of course, i told her you are a lovely human being inside and out, and to get back to doing her project."
"funny, she was telling me that she and her friends thought we'd make a cute couple." he laughed at that, and it made your chest flutter. you loved his laugh. "cute couple, that's so cute," he gasped.
"yeah i know right. who knew our students would start trying to set us up," you joked. he nodded in agreement getting up after his microwave went off from the other side of the room. "it would be so funny if they actually succeeded, but it does seem a bit pointless at this point, right?" he noted.
"yeah, totally pointless," you agreed.
you and wonwoo, being set up, by your students of all people. it sure would be for the books if it happened like that.
what an absurd idea.
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the rest of the week went as usual, uneventful, but you did get to see wonwoo on the way out of the building and into the parking lot. he held his leather bag in his right hand. "on the way out today?" he asked. "don't you usually do tutoring sessions after school on fridays?"
"we just started a unit, and no one showed up after the fifteen-minute window. i'm out of here," you laughed. he smiled. you loved it when he smiled. "want to walk out together then?" he offered and pushed the door open for you. something about him was so calming and comforting. you smiled and averted your gaze to the floor. even after all these years, he made you a little nervous. you did miss the way he grinned when he caught your shy smile. he loved the way you smiled too. he couldn't wait to see it again, he needed to see it again as soon as possible. he was too lost in thought about the way you smile and the way your voice sounds, that he fell far behind you. "___, wait up," he called as you made your way through the faculty parking lot. he jogged to catch up to you and reached out to grab your hand.
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"i swear i saw him kiss her out in the parking lot," daniel insisted. "they were holding hands too!" at this point, lily was totally unmotivated to get her two favorite teachers together. not after miss ___ shut her down on numerous occasions and mr. jeon was just as friendly but unbothered as ever giving his most PG answers. "whatever, daniel," lily huffed. "they would be so perfect together."
"he's literally telling you that they're together, he saw them kissing!" mina exclaimed. lily rolled her eyes. they were all hallucinating just to make themselves feel better that it was wishful thinking. "true love isn't real!" she cried.
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"it's time to wake up, sweetheart," he mumbled. "you said you had lots of work to do today."
"yeah, well it's my day off too. i'll get to work later," his fiancé groaned.
"oh come on, i know you're desperate to do all that paperwork," he teased. he tugged on the warm body text to him to pull it closer to him. he loved waking up with his wonderful, beautiful, smart fiancé next to him.
he loved waking up next to you.
he knew the kids were asking about him and his love life. kids would be kids of course. "lily won't stop asking about my love life. it's funny since we both teach her," he said.
"i guess, she's never noticed the necklace with the ring hanging around my neck," you chuckled, nuzzling your face into wonwoo's neck. his arms easily wrapped around your body. he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead. "you know, lily asked me if i had a girlfriend the other week," wonwoo murmured.
"she asked me if i had a boyfriend too," you hummed. "i just told her that it wasn't appropriate to ask that in class."
"i said something similar, but i did tell her i didn't have a girlfriend."
you paused. why would he say that? he was very obviously in a relationship, well obvious to the two of you. he even gave you a ring and a nice dinner to cement your relationship. "i obviously couldn't tell that i didn't have a girlfriend because i have a wonderful, smart fiancé," he laughed. you breathed an internal sigh of relief, but you still hit him in the chest. "that's so stupid," you groaned. "you're catching everyone on a technicality." he thought he was so clever and funny, ever the wordsmith.
"it's so hard not telling the students," wonwoo whispered, and you nodded your head in agreement. he didn't know why the two of you didn't tell the students yet, but the relationship started a bit secretively, almost right after the both of you were onboarded. he guessed the two of you never got out of the whole secret relationship. it was a bit exhilarating keeping the secret between you and him, and the admin. he felt like a teenager again. "maybe we should ease them into it, but let's not let them think it was all them," you said.
"maybe it's time for you to start wearing the ring on your finger then," he commented pulling away to get a better look at you. "i can't wait for you to become mrs. jeon," he smiled.
"yuck, so corny," you rolled your eyes with a smile. "you need to stop with these cheesy sayings early in the morning." nevertheless, you leaned forward and kissed him. he kissed back easily, "come on, i know you like the little notes i leave in your lunch."
"i do, now be quiet and just kiss me."
"gladly."
he did have the whole weekend until he had to go back to school. at least you made the day a little better.
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min | im just in a silly goofy mood LOL. my poor attempt at humor and portraying what high schoolers are like. wonwoo being an english teacher just makes sense!!! reblogs and comments are always appreciated! not proofread at the moment (it's 1 in the morning)
tagging: @a-wandering-stay
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singmyaubade · 8 months
Text
The Girl We Love
Poly!Marauders x Female!Reader
A/N: Hello! Long time no see; this came to me out of nowhere, and I just wrote it off the top of my head; I hope you enjoy it! <3 P.S. I have no idea what to think about this story.
Summary: Can all of them handle loving you at the same time?
Warning: Containing cursing, soon-to-be-smut, etc... Viewer discretion is advised.
--
The boys were enjoying their summer, basking in the hot sun and the chance to go in the pool anytime they wanted. Although it was just Remus, Sirius, and James, that was all they needed. Unfortunately, Peter was in France, but 3/4 Marauders was better than none.
"James, Sirius!" Euphemia yelled as James and Sirius groaned, not wanting to go downstairs due to their laziness, "I know you boys can hear me, and I am giving you five seconds," She yelled louder as the two boys looked at each other in fear as they both lunged to the door, James pushing Sirius into the wall.
"5..4...3.." The boys had rushed downstairs before two to see their Euphemia setting the dining room, "Why is Remus the only helpful boy in this house?" Euphemia huffed as Remus set down the dishes.
James ignored her, noticing the fancy table mats she would only bring out when people came over, "Uh, Mum, what's going on?" James asked, scratching his head, confused.
"Yeah, we never use this table unless James forgot he's human instead of dog," Sirius joked as James smacked him in his stomach, earning a groan.
Euphemia sighed, "Ms. L/N and Y/N are coming for dinner," She answered, setting the plates over the tablecloths.
James's mother and your mother were best friends, practically inseparable when you all were younger. Even when they didn't see each other, James would see her writing letters to your mom.
"Why?" James asked as Euphemia glared at him, "I just mean that we haven't seen her in so long, like since we were like thirteen,"
"You mean when you all would rough house and were into wrestling and Quidditch?" Euphemia hummed.
"The good old days," Sirius added, looking up in dramatics.
"Yeah, when you would tackle her and throw mud on us all," Remus muttered.
"Um yeah?" Sirius responded, "The good old days!"
Having you over was like having another brother around when it came to James. You always loved watching Quidditch and would yell with him when your favorite team won, chest-bumping each other.
You would always dress like the Marauders, wear whatever trend they were following, and play with whatever toys seemed remarkable to them.
You all ate like absolute slobs, and Euphemia and your mother would constantly reprimand all of you, but you didn't care because if you all did it, it was incredible.
When your parents divorced and you went to France with your Father, they all hadn't realized the switch in your presence as much. They would mention you sometimes but would only give it a short conversation. They were just kids; They didn't know much until later.
"This might be nice, you know?" Sirius said, "We haven't seen Y/N in so long, and I do miss having another one of the guys in the house," Sirius wrapped his arm around James's shoulders.
"Y/N is a girl," Remus corrected.
"You know what I mean," Sirius said, sitting in his seat.
"Wonder if she still plays Quidditch," James added, sitting beside Sirius.
"Can't wait to kick her arse in it," Sirius said, putting his hands together tauntingly.
Euphemia shushed them, "Enough of this talk, they should be arriving any minute now, and I expect the most from all of you," She tsked, moving near the door.
"She's talking about you two," Remus said, smirking.
"Oh shove it, Moony, you aren't a saint," James teased.
"Yeah, we know of your unspeakable acts in the bedroom," Sirius joked, winking at Remus as he bit his tongue.
James could hear voices from the front door as you stepped into view, hugging Euphemia, and he couldn't believe what he was seeing; none of them could.
Of course, you were different; the years did you well, but your hair grew past your shoulders, not the usual bob. You were wearing a lavender dress, a step away from your tomboy outfits. From what he remembered about you, your nails were painted in your favorite color, and you no longer wore a retainer everywhere you went.
Your dress hugged your waist perfectly, and none of the Marauders were perverts, but none of them could hide the fact that they were staring at you.
You looked at them with a grin, going over to James first as he stood up from his chair like a statue, "Jamesy!" You squeaked, the childhood nickname sounding different now.
You embraced him in a tight hug, your boobs pressing against his chest as he grew flustered. You pulled back, looking at him, "I missed you so much," You excitedly said, returning for a hug.
James could feel how soft your skin was, like a rose petal coated in shea butter. He had never felt something so gentle in his entire life like it wasn't real.
Once James squeezed you back, you moved over to Sirius, giving him a tight hug. His hands stayed on your back as your lips were on his neck accidentally. Sirius was never the type to blush, but somehow, you succeeded.
Sirius could smell home when he was near you, like cinnamon and hot chocolate, like a long day of Quidditch on the grass and Euphemia giving him a cold glass of Butterbeer kind of touch.
You pulled back, giving him a smile instead of words because moving over to Remus, pecking him on the cheek, and moving to a hug, "Remsy, long time no see," You giggled, giving him a hug as he smiled, trying not to let his thoughts get to him.
Remus could feel your happiness like sunlight as if it was glowing. When he hugged you, he felt happy like never before; it made him forget every stormy night or memory.
They all could feel your presence like a lightning bolt with each embrace, and it was hard to hide when you were up against them.
Euphemia and your mother were still chatting at the door, so you decided to talk with them about their social life as much as possible.
"I missed all of you so much," You cheesily said, sitting across from them all, "Please tell me how all of you have been," You looked at Sirius first.
You had developed a slight French accent, but only people would notice if they genuinely heard you.
Both Remus and James side-eyed Sirius, who looked shellshocked, "Well, I've just been focusing on school since graduation and just been enjoying summer," He awkwardly laughed, not knowing what to say, "I made Quidditch Co-captain with James,"
Your mouth fell open, "Oh my god, I am so proud of you guys; congratulations," You said happily.
"Thank you," James and Sirius said in unison as you laughed.
"What about you, James?" You asked, looking at him.
"I've been focusing on Quidditch and maybe becoming an Auror in the future when I'm done with my Quidditch career," James responded.
"I remember you always talking about being an Auror; I'm glad you still want to do it," You responded kindly, "What about you, Remus?" You looked at him.
"I've been focusing on becoming a healer or professor since I enjoy helping others," He said as you beamed.
"Well, considering you did help me when I cut my knee on the concrete when we were ten, I would say you are perfectly trained," You joked as Remus grinned.
"What about you, Y/N? What have you been up to?" James asked.
"Well, I hope to become a journalist or a write since it is a dream, but I was going to move back to London with my boyfriend," You said as all of the boys mentally punched themselves, "But then he cheated on me so I might just be alone," You said as the boys grinned from ear to ear.
"Yes!" Sirius said as you raised an eyebrow, "Yes, what an awful thing for him to do; I am so sorry, Y/N," Sirius said.
"Agreed, he must be a bloody fool," Remus added.
"I'm glad he's out of your life," James said, "Uh because, he's a horrible person,"
"Thank you, guys; I am glad I found out before I moved with him here," You said with relief.
Your mother and Euphemia approached the table, your mother sitting next to you and Euphemia sitting across, "I apologize, Fleamont couldn't attend; he has business matters in Rome," Euphemia said in a sweet voice.
"That man always focuses on business," Your mother tsked as Euphemia smiled before your mother looked at the three boys, "Oh my, how you guys have grown," She smiled dearly.
"You don't look like a day over twenty, Ms. L/N," Sirius winked as Remus elbowed him, causing the air to fall out of his lungs.
"Why thank you, dear," Your mother said genuinely as Euphemia glared at Sirius.
"First course is ready!" Minnie said, snapping her fingers to a variety of foods. Your eyes shot in amazement at the different dishes, even some being French.
"Thank you, Minnie," Euphemia said, nodding to the elf as Minnie bowed, disappearing.
"Y/n, how have your studies been at Beaubaxtons?" Euphemia asked, grabbing some potatoes.
"Delightful," You responded, "I know that it seems like a reform school for young girls, but I actually do enjoy it there, and we always watch Quidditch, surprisingly," You said as Euphemia grinned, "I do wish we had our own team though, I would love to play,"
"I'll play with you, Y/N," James said as the table looked at him, "If you ever need a partner," He whispered, digging into his chicken.
You cheerfully looked at him, "I would love to,"
James smiled to himself as Sirius side-eyed James, "And if you ever need another partner, I am here as well," Sirius added, making James kick him from under the table.
"Thank you, Sirius, I would love that as well," You said, still smiling.
Euphemia noticed the two boys rolling her eyes, "And your mother has told me you enjoy reading; Remus might know a thing or two about that," She said.
"I've needed a reading partner. The girls at Beaubaxton read, but they don't have much variety," You chuckled.
"Well, I can assure you that I do," Remus jokingly said as both James and Sirius glared at him, causing Remus to clear his throat.
"That's great! Considering I will be staying here, that sounds incredible," You said as James nearly spit out his dragon fruit juice.
"The cat seems out of the bag," Your mother said, eating another piece of meat.
"Oh, I apologize; you hadn't told them?" You said, looking at Euphemia.
"Not yet," Euphemia said with a slight smile, "Y/N and her mother will be staying with us for the summer,"
They all felt like they were in a dream that felt like reality; Sirius was close to pinching himself.
If they were thirteen again, they probably would've considered this a chance to have another Peter around, but now, it was entirely different.
You were sweet, still enjoyed Quidditch, and read while being entirely yourself.
You were like a dream.
"Trust me, they are all excited," Euphemia told you as the boys snapped out of the trance.
"That sounds amazi-" Remus started.
"I am so glad-" Sirius beginning.
"I can't wait to-"
They all said simultaneously, making you giggle, "I am excited too."
From then on, the conversations were light with laughs and banter, moving through the courses until Euphemia decided that all the kids needed to go to bed, to which James and Sirius protested.
They were all instructed to guide you to your room, to which you followed them up the stairs until they led you to a room with lavender walls and blue and white bedding.
You stopped them at the door, grinning ear to ear at the room, "Thank you all for leading me to my room," You said as they all said you were welcome at the same time.
You giggled, "I missed you guys so much," You said, hugging all of their tall figures with a kiss on each of their cheeks, "Goodnight, I will see you tomorrow,"
They all stuttered a goodnight as you closed the door.
And the Marauders didn't know they could ever want something so wrong.
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lovebugism · 23 days
Note
Hi um, could you please maybe write something with Stevie and his agoraphobic girlfriend, who is worried she clings to him/depends on him too much for her own comfort and panics and tries to distance herself from him? (Also I adore your writing, you write for Steve so well, it hits me in the heart constantly)
thank u angel! i lovelovelove this request! — you worry steve thinks you're a burden, but really he just loves you (shy!fem!r, hurt/comfort, cw for mentions of social anxiety, 1k)
Steve can tell when you’re out of the shower. The air starts to smell vaguely of fresh flowers and warm vanilla as wisps of steam travel down the hall. He sorts groceries in the kitchen and smiles to himself when he hears your bare feet pad closer, giddy with the thought of surprising you.
You freeze in the doorway at the sight of him, looking more scared than shocked. Wet hair drips onto the neck of your oversized sweatshirt — definitely his. “What are you…?” you trail off, wide eyes darting around the kitchen, now filled with brown paper bags and new groceries.
Steve grins, pink and lopsided, as he slides fresh milk into the door of the fridge. “Hey, babe,” he greets in a honeyed voice.
“Hi…” you waver, brows still pinched with a distant concern.
“Good shower?” he asks, just before a chuckle spills from his mouth. “You were in there for, like, thirty minutes.”
You force a laugh of your own. “Yeah, it was… It was… fine— What are you doing?”
Steve meets your screwed-up features with a brighter beam. He holds a loaf of bread in one hand and chips in the other. “I went grocery shopping,” he answers.
“Okay,” you nod, then shrink inside yourself again. “…Why?”
He shrugs and sets the items on the counter, rambling as he digs into another crumpling paper bag. “‘Cause I knew you’ve been meaning to do it and everything, so… I thought I’d make it a little easier on you.”
Your heart threatens to swell at the simple act of kindness. Your brain doesn’t let it, though. The mean thing can’t comprehend that he’s doing this because he loves you. Instead, it tells you he’s doing this because he thinks you can’t.
“Thank you,” you murmur sheepishly, wringing your clammy hands into a knot. “But, you know, I could’ve done it…”
Steve scoffs. “Of course, you could’ve! I just wanted to do something nice for you.” He puts boxes of something into the upper cabinets you usually have trouble reaching. With his back to you, he rambles. “And don’t worry about paying me back, alright? Consider this me making up for takeout the other night. I really did forget my wallet at home, babe, I swear.”
The memory makes him laugh now that he’s over being horrified about it. He thought about it for days, though — the way he patted at his jeans in search of something that wasn’t there, and how the excuse sounded like a lie as it fell from his lips. 
You didn’t think twice about it after it happened. You were more than happy to pay for your dinner that night, especially considering Steve never lets you pay for anything.
As his quiet chuckling fades, he realizes you hadn’t laughed about it at all. Not even the pity laugh you give when you don’t think something’s all that funny, but you don’t want to be rude. 
With a worried look pinching his features, Steve looks at you over his shoulder. “What’s wrong?”
Your eyes go wide. “Hm?”
“What’s that look for, huh?”
“What look?” 
“That one,” he says with a quiet chuckle, pointing to the concerned frown scrunching your brows and swimming in your eyes. “You look upset about something.”
“No!” you blurt before you mean to. The last thing you want him to think is that you’re unhappy with him. So quieter and less convincingly, you waver, “No. I’m not… I’m not upset.”
Steve crosses his toned arms over his chest, looking less than swayed. “Did I… Did I do something? Should I not have bought the groceries— ‘Cause they were having a bunch of sales, you know— it wasn’t that expensive, I promise—”
“It’s not that,” you assure him firmly, before going suddenly shy all over again. “I just… I really could’ve done it, Steve.”
He nods, furrow-browed. “I know.”
You swallow hard. “I just don’t want you to think that you have to do all this stuff for me just because it’s… ‘cause it’s harder for me.”
Steve’s structured face goes lax with realization. He nods slowly to himself, chest wrenching because he understands it all now — why you look so pouty about the whole thing. Because you think you’re a burden.
His sneakers pad softly against the tile floor until they’re planted just ahead of your bare feet. Steve smiles down at you and smooths his palms over your sides. “I don’t feel like I have to do anything,” he promises with a faint laugh, squeezing gently at your hips. “I like doing these things for you… ‘Cause I like you and everything, I guess.”
You scrunch your nose to keep from smiling too big. “Well, that’s gross…” you mumble.
“Disgusting, huh?” Steve concurs with a lopsided grin before smacking a kiss to your mouth.
Your lips tingle for more of him when he pulls away. Your yearning hands twist at the hem of his shirt before he can step away from you completely. “At least let me help put them away,” you plead with sparkling eyes.
Steve’s face twists. “What do I look like to you?” he scoffs. “I’m not some kinda schmuck that makes his girl put up groceries! Go finish getting ready. Or lay down or something— I’m good in here.”
“I can help!” you protest, doing everything but stomping your foot.
“I know you can. Excuse me for wanting to pamper you.”
You make a faint grumbly noise of disdain but don’t press the issue any further.
“You can make it up to me later?” Steve offers with a plush pink grin. His softly calloused palms smooth over your shoulders, wide thumbs rubbing along your collarbones. “Movie date? At the Hawk? Next weekend?”
Your chest pinches with a momentary panic, but you know he’s doing everything right. 
The Hawk isn’t crazy crowded these days, and cinemas don’t usually call for a ton of human interaction. He’s giving you an entire week to prepare yourself for it, too. Steve’s learned all your little idiosyncrasies — for better or for worse.
“Try?” Steve presses at your silence.
You exhale a sharp breath through your nose to dispel the fleeting worry in your chest. You nod. “I’ll try.”
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stevesbipanic · 25 days
Text
For the lovely @withacapitalp happy birthday Liam hope you have the best day today!!!!
Steve had been pacing around the apartment all morning. Well, pacing wasn't really the right word, Eddie would describe it more like having the same zoomies their cat Toothpaste has at 3am.
You see today was–"It's Robin Day, Eds!" As his lovely boyfriend had practically screamed in his ear at 5am. "And it will still be Robin day when you return from your job at a normal waking hour, babe."
Eddie had hoped the jog would've gotten some of the energy out of Steve's system but he seemed more hyper on his return, at least he'd brought Eddie coffee.
"Love, Robin isn't even on the plane yet."
"I know, but it's today, Eds."
Steve looked so bright it made all of Eddie's sleepiness fade away. It had been hard, living away from Robin. They'd all shared an apartment when she went away for college but by the time she got a job in New York, Steve and Eddie were not only dating finally but settled into Chicago life.
They spoke every day of course, Robin and Steve never missed a nightly catch up of the day's events, Eddie didn't even know what they'd talk about once they were in the same state again. Eddie knew Robin would always be Steve's number one and he loved that about him.
There was one other thing about today though. "Sweetheart, you know it's not just Robin Day, right?"
Steve looked confused at his boyfriend, kind of like the way a puppy looks when you move his toy.
"What could be more important about today than that."
Eddie began humming a specific tune wrapping his arms around Steve's waist. "Oh, right, my birthday, 24 isn't exactly a big deal Eds," Steve said rolling his eyes.
Eddie laughed, "Your birthday is the reason Robin's coming, sunshine, plus after the number of times we've both almost died I think every birthday is a big deal."
Steve nodded his head and returned the embrace Eddie had been giving him, "True, you think you're gonna have a quarter life crisis in August, Mr 25?"
Eddie grinned, "Oh yeah, I think imma buy a guitar and start a band." Steve laughed, while Corroded Coffin never got famous they got relatively well known in the local scene, Tuesdays were now a regular gig at The Squire downtown.
"Four hours til she lands," Steve said kissing Eddie's cheek and running upstairs to make sure the guest room was ready for the tenth time. "Still not on the plane yet!" Eddie called up laughing.
Four and a half hours later their loving room was filled with laughter and joy once more. "And then the guy asked the flight attendant for another ginger ale and Steve this man was looking green and you know how I don't deal with sick people well I'm surprised I survived the flight at all," Robin rambled filling Steve in on her flight from hell.
"Honestly, you should just move back here, save yourself the flight," Steve joked. Robin glanced at Eddie, one little birthday surprise they hadn't told Steve yet.
"Actually, my contract is ending in two weeks, and um, they offered to extend it at...their Chicago office."
Steve was frozen, if Eddie didn't know better he'd think Vecna had returned from the dead to finish them off after all these years. Then the screaming started.
"YOU'RE MOVING BACK TO CHICAGO!"
"I'M MOVING BACK TO CHICAGO!"
Pretty soon everyday would be Robin Day and with his boy looking that happy Eddie wouldn't want it any other way.
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inkdrinkerworld · 7 months
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imagine with me for a moment:
you're new to the team and spencer has taken a liking to you. not an obvious one to you- you don't know him that well, but to the team, he's so obvious it hurts.
it's not that you're shy, it's just that your job doesn't allow for lots of 'fun', where you can show your personality.
spencer notices quite quickly, that you bring something 'fun' to work with you. he assumes it’s a way to showcase some part of you without being overt about it and it works.
fun is subjective of course- morgan thinks flirting with anything that walks is fun, emily likes dreaming up 'sin to win' weekends, gideon likes chess- it's all different for everyone; but spencer thinks yours is actually what should be done.
one week you've got a fantasy book, it's not high stakes spencer realises as he takes in the cover but it's fantasy. you had explained to him that it was a 'cosy' fantasy, similar to the hobbit. low stakes but still enjoyable.
another week it had been a gift form your nephew, a small package with a picture of a crocheted duck on it. "is it a stuffed thing?" spencer asks as he catches you crocheting on the jet as you go over the case.
"yeah! gonna make it into a keychain, for my house keys."
it goes on from there, something new every week until there isn't. it's been a hard week and you haven't had a fun thing yet. so spencer takes it upon himself to get you one.
it's a little out there, for him to just get someone something, but he goes to the bookstore on his lunch break and spends thirty minutes looking for the book you'd been waiting for.
he doesn't find it by itself, but in a boxset and doesn't hesitate to get it. "um, and can i get a sheet of wrapping paper? the um, the one with the flowers on it."
spencer finds you in the kitchen and taps the counter to make himself known.
"hey spence," even tired you try for a smile as you look at him.
"hi, i um, i noticed," he starts, holding the handles of the bag tightly. "i noticed that you hadn't had a fun thing all week," he says, eyes tracking every movement on your face. "so i got you something to make up for that."
you gasp when he hands you the bag and you feel the weight of it.
"you didn't have to spence," you let your fingers brush his wrist - he's been getting better with the touches- last week, a better week, had gifted you his shoulder to sleep on in the suv. "but thank you."
he nods, a sheepish smile on his face.
"can i open it now?" you ask and he nods, pulling out a chair for you to sit on and then one for himself.
you tear carefully at the wrapping paper and smile so wide you fear your cheeks would split when you see what's inside.
"spencer," he's never understood what people meant when they say they love the sound of other people saying their name- but the way you say it, changes his mind on it completely. "thank you!" you reach into his personal space for a hug and spencer finds he doesn't mind it at all.
"does this qualify as a fun thing?" he asks and you tsk.
"the funnest."
spencer smiles but then says, "that's not actually a word," which makes you laugh loud enough that you garner your co-workers' attention but you and spencer don't seem to notice.
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theminecraftbee · 4 months
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task: answer the following question. do you believe in curses? respond as completely with relevant information as possible.
Grian: Well, that's a lie. This isn't a task. I know it's not a task, I set the things up! Not sure why we're getting a question as pointless as this one, but sure, mysterious scroll, I'll answer. There's no such thing as curses, unless you're Timmy, in which case it's funny, yeah? Besides, I didn't actually kill Etho. Even if that did count, self-fulfilling prophecies aren't the same thing as curses, and I know which one I fall under.
Joel: Do I believe in bloody curses what kind of question is that? Do I really get hearts just for answering this? This feels like a prank or something... well, whatever. There are no such thing as curses, except the Boogeyman curse, which I sort of had today, but it wasn't actually the same at all. A lot of the bloodlust, sure, but a lot more... Etho had to be the one to do it, huh? And it's not the same. Not comforting. That's a stupid thing to say actually. Take it out of wherever you're putting this. Cut it out of the recording. Comforting. Please. As if it were ever... Yeah, I'm done actually. Don't have a good answer. Go away.
Scott: What, other than Jimmy? Bless that man, he may not have died first, but he sure tried his best. Sure, I'll believe Jimmy is cursed. I mean, mostly he's just kind of stupid. Lovingly so. I mean, despite him being stupid, I put up with him, right? That seems like a complete answer to this question. Jimmy's an omen but we put up with him anyway. That's all.
Mumbo: NO RESPONSE GIVEN.
Pearl: Oh, I mean, I'm probably cursed. That's what everyone liked to say at one point. I think... I mean, I think this time I have good friends, which is nice. They don't think I'm cursed. And it's not like I--I mean, it's surprisingly fun, acting cursed! And I am just acting. Acting scary, blowing up dance floors, all of that. And I don't really have to this time, so... Maybe I'm not cursed? And since it's acting, it's not real? This is a weird question.
Etho: Oh, man, that's a question. Um, do I have to answer? Because I feel like if I say no, that's really just asking for it, but if I say yes, I have to explain myself. Uh, I think I'm abstaining, unless the zombie thing from earlier counts. That was scary and I hated it. Curses are scary and I hate them in general, but apparently I'm good at them, if you ask everyone else. Um, it's not the only thing I find scary that apparently I'm good at.
Scar: Why, of course I believe in curses! Look at poor, poor... Timbert? Timmy? Jim? Gosh, sorry, I'm very tired right now. That's more proof of curses, by the way! That I'm tired. I've been tired straight since the desert, let me tell you what. And that, my friends, is a curse like no other. What a terrible beast, loneliness is. Wish me luck breaking it, because it's not happening this season!
Cleo: Oh, you mean the thing people like to blame instead of their own actions? Nah. My soulbond was kind of a curse, I guess, but even that's at least half just... bad people. Bad relationships. Good ones, too. We're all just doing what you can, you know? No script, no curses, no characters, just... Oh, I hope everything turns out tomorrow. Sorry, that's unrelated. It's just nicer to hope than to preemptively blame things on curses that don't exist.
Impulse: Well, I mean, I didn't until you just asked me that, but now I feel like I should. Wouldn't that be nice? Being cursed instead of just sort of unlovable? Sorry, no, that's mean to Gem. I shouldn't say that about Gem, she's been good this season. Super, super cursed, mind you, in the like, game mechanic sense? But she's been good, no backstabbing or inability to get love involved. Um, and I guess that's not fair to Bdubs, kind of, except it also totally is and I haven't forgiven him. So I guess if they ask I said I believed in curses, and that's why my life keeps circling clocks? Don't put any of that other stuff down, I'm trying to work on that.
Lizzie: NO RESPONSE GIVEN.
Gem: I was just cursed for a task, but that probably isn't what you're asking about, right? I'm new, so I don't know! A task is a concrete thing to believe in, like bloodshed or victory or fun and games. You don't have to believe in those to know they're real, either! They just are, whether you like it or not. I understand that much!
Tango: Gah, don't talk to me about... Deep breaths. Look, I don't care if it's a curse, or if it's just me being really bad, or what, I'm not going out pointlessly this time. Jimmy managed not to die first, I can manage to not go out to a stray arrow or my own bomb or a misstep this time, right? Is that so much to ask?
Skizz: Huh? Curses? I mean, I don't think so, and to be totally honest I think it's kind of mean the way people sometimes rag on people about them. Everyone's got so many good things about them! Why do people like to focus on the unfortunate luck, huh?
Bdubs: Hah! Curses! Let me tell you about curses. When I see curses, I eat them for breakfast. I don't got curses, I've got better things to do! I've got my buddies with the Mounders, and I've got-well, I'd say keeping Etho safe, but he's being weird at me again this season. Not that it matters. It never matters. Etho and I, we're... The point is, that doesn't matter anyway, because I have the Mounders, and they're the ones who matter here. And because I'm a strong, independent Bdubs, who doesn't need anyone but my bow and my perfect, flawless fighting prowess! Sorry, what was the question? I've been thinking so much lately that it's just sort of made everything else pop out of my head, so it's hard to keep track. I'm sure I answered it flawlessly, though.
Martyn: Of course there are curses. That's half the fun for you lot, isn't it? Putting your little curses on us and watching us rail against them. Bet you think it's real cute to ask us what we think of the things, too. "Oh, what do you think of curses," like we have any control over them. Please. If I had any control over curses, Jimmy--or, well, no, I guess that one was technically broken, wasn't it? Sure doesn't feel like it. Point is, curses are bad, and they're definitely real, and I hate you for them, got it?
BigB: Look, man, if you're trying to get me to write my character out for you, just say so! I won't tell anyone. We can come up with a hole thing about holes and red tasks and the Backrooms together! It'll be fun! After all, you probably don't know what kind of curse to say I have, right? Haha, just kidding. I have no idea what I'm talking about. Luckily, neither does anyone else, so I think that evens out between the lot of us.
Jimmy: NO RESPONSE GIVEN.
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thatgirlstrawberry · 1 year
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How to Lie to a Behavior Analyst pt. 2
In which Y/N still thinks her dad doesn’t know about her and Spencer’s relationship. Rossi sets his daughter up on a date at his book signing party….
Warnings: semi-smutty scenes, cursing, you’ll probably get second hand embarrassment, Fluff, cute/horny/loveydovey!Spencer, JEALOUS!SPENCER
Spencer Reid x fem!reader
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“Do you think we have too much sex?”
This question caught Spencer off guard seeing as they were literally in the middle of having sex. He paused his movements and looked at her. “Uhhhh no?” He shook his head. “Do you?”
Y/N quirked an eyebrow. “No. But I’m just trying to figure out the societally acceptable amount of sex to be having.”
With this Spencer busted out laughing. “Do you think we have over the societally acceptable amount?”
She shrugged, smiling up at him. “I mean we have sex a lot but I don’t think too much.”
Spencer chuckled. “Where did this come from?”
Y/N wiggled her hips as Spencer continued his movements, pushing into her over and over again. “Oh fu— it’s just my next door neighbor has like a lot of sex— all the time and it’s loud.” She nodded, moaning in between her words. “Like I was up until four am one night because she was moaning like a fuckin’ diseased cat.”
“How come I’ve never heard her?” He asked, groaning loudly.
Y/N titled head. “Oh so you want to hear her moan?” She asked, raising her eyebrows.
“What— no!” Spencer exclaimed.
She rolled her eyes laughing. “Kidding!” She hit his shoulder.
.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.
The next day, Y/N was at her dad’s house baking a bunch of desserts for his book signing party the next day.
“Dad, how many mini strawberry shortcakes did you need?” She asked as he walked into the kitchen.
“Um… 10, i think.” He nodded. “Y/N/N, sweetheart can I ask you a question?” He asked.
She cleared her throat. “Sure.” She smiled, wiping the flower off of her forehead.
“Are you seeing anyone?” He asked, quirking an eyebrow. She froze for a millisecond.
She remembered the text Spencer had sent her two weeks before at the dinner party her father held.
How to lie to a behavior analyst: Don’t maintain excessive eye contact, keep your voice even, say my name if you refer to me, don’t fidget— I love you
She licked her lips and glanced at him before busying her hands with mixing the cake batter together. “No, why?” She asked, her voice calm.
He shrugged and leaned on the kitchen island. She didn’t turn back to look at him. “Oh, good.” He smiled. “I have this friend and he has a son. I wanted you guys to meet.”
Y/N swallowed hard and let out a quiet scoff. “Really?” She shook her head, turning around and smiling. “You’re trying to set me up now?”
Rossi shrugged. “I just noticed that you haven’t been in a relationship in a while and I think you would love Benjamin Fitz.”
“Your friends with Eric Fitz and his son?” She asked, raising an eyebrow. Eric Fitz was a very… controversial news paper company man. Her shoulders tensed.
“Yes. He always made me look good in the paper.” Rossi joked, strolling over to his daughters side. “So, what do you say? Will you meet Benny?”
If I say no, he’ll definitely catch on.
Y/N smiled tightly and inhaled through her nose. “I-of course! It’s not like I’m seeing anyone so, it should be fun!” She said, internally scolding herself for speaking so fast.
Rossi nodded slowly. “Okay. I’ll let Eric know.”
Spencer is gonna fuckin’ kill me
.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.
Y/N shivered as Spencer’s finger tips lightly glided across her back. They were laying in bed just soaking up each other’s company. She had been holding back the fact that she was set up on a date by her father since she saw him.
She could tell Spencer was about to fall asleep because his fingers started to move slower and slowly. “Hey, Spence?” She spoke quietly.
He inhaled deeply, rubbing his eyes with his free hand. “Yeah, baby?”
“Uh…” She bit her lip. “So… I um… my dad— he set me up on a date tomorrow night at his book signing party.”
Spencer’s eyes got wide. “What!?”
The woman sighed and sat up, straddling his thighs. “I— my dad asked me if I was seeing anyone and I told him no because then he would find out about us and then he asked me if he could set me up with his friend’s son and I said yes because I thought it would seem like I was seeing someone even though I just told him that I wasn’t.” She spoke very quickly and Spencer found it hard to keep with her words but he got the gist.
“So you’re going on a date with someone else?” He asked, his eyes dropped down.
Y/N tilted her head and she bit her lip. “Aw Spence, no— well yes but no.” She shook her head. “It might be a date for him but it won’t be a date for me. It’s gonna be torture.” She placed her hands on his cheeks. “I’m gonna hate every second of it because I won’t be with you, okay?”
Spencer nodded. “W-well… what are you gonna wear?” He asked, his eyes avoiding hers.
Y/N bit the inside of her cheek. “I will literally show up in sweatpants if that would make you feel more comfortable.”
He pouted a little bit. “You look really sexy in sweatpants.” Y/N giggled quietly.
“I’ll wear a trash bag— a potato sack! Anything you want me to wear, I’ll wear it.” She nodded.
Spencer smiled, his pouty lips fading away. “I want you to wear…” He thought for a minute. “That pretty white dress that I like on you.”
She quirked a brow. “But you said I look sexy in that one.” She traced circles on his chest.
Spencer leaned forward and kissed her. “I want him to see how sexy you look and I want him to know that he can’t have you.” He whispered. A breath left her lips and she smiled.
She was about to lean in and kiss him again but the ‘diseased cat’ who she shared a wall wit started making noises.
Y/N gasped and slapped Spencer’s chest. “Oh my god! Do you hear!?”
Spencer stopped and listened for a moment before laughing. “Holy shit, why does she sound like that?” He asked through his laughter.
Y/N groaned and rolled her eyes. “We’re never gonna be able to sleep now!” She shouted, doubting that cat lady could hear it over her dramatic moans.
Spencer pulled her closer with a smirk. “We’ll just have to show her what pretty noises sound like.”
“Oh my god, please make me scream.”
.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.
Y/N nervously looked around as she clutched her bag in her hands. She stood by her dad’s signing table. He wasn’t there, he was making rounds but she stood there in her tight white dress, waiting for him to show up with her ‘date’. She rolled her eyes even thinking about it.
Soon, her father and a tall blonde man emerged from the crowd of people and headed towards the table.
The first think she noticed about Benjamin Fitz was that he looked her up and down unashamed.
She gave a fake smile to her father and a head nod to Benjamin. “Bella, you look lovely.” Rossi smiled, hugging his daughter and kissing her on both cheeks.
“This is an amazing turn out, daddy.” She smiled, kissing his cheek. They stood in the rental area of a very fancy wine and dine restaurant. She looked at the blonde man next to her father. “You must be Benjamin. It’s nice to meet you.” She smiled, holding out her hand.
“Please, call me Ben.” He winked and instead of shaking her hand, he pulled her in for a hug. His hands landed on her waist and her eyes widened, pulling away quickly as she laughed it off. “And your Y/N?”
She nodded, glancing at her father who had squinted eyes, observing the two. “Y-yes. It’s nice to meet you.” She said again, looking back at him. She had to admit, he wasn’t ugly.
“You as well, sweetheart.”
Y/N blew air past her lips and she looked around. Rossi cleared his throat. “Oh, I see one of my friends.” He smiled, glancing between his daughter and Ben. “I’ve got to make rounds. Have fun you two.”
“Thanks, dad.” She gritted her teeth as he walked away.
Ben looked at her. “Where do they keep the booze?”
Be fucking for real.
.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.
Y/N had been leaning against the wall listening to Ben talk about being a Lacrosse star in high school and college. She nodded along but she wasn’t really listening.
Suddenly, she saw a very familiar face over his shoulder. Her eyes widened and she almost choked on the champagne she was chugging.
“Uh, sorry to stop you there Ben but uh… could you give me a minute?” She asked. She didn’t give him a chance to respond before she pushed off of the wall and walked around him.
Her boyfriend stood in the middle of the room with a book in his hand and a very sexy suit. He looked at her and smiled. “Spencer, what the hell are you doing here?” She asked, looking around to make sure that her father wasn’t there and watching them.
He smiled. “I just so happen to have a book that Rossi hasn’t signed.” He shrugged.
“Oh, really?” She asked, a smile forming on her lips. “That’s the only reason you’re here?”
“Mhm.”
She squinted her eyes. “Not because you want to spy on Ben and I?”
Spencer blew a raspberry and rolled his eyes. “Please. Me? Spying? Nooooo.” Y/N raised her eyebrows.
“Okay.” She nodded. “Well, I gotta get back to my date so… I’ll see you later.” She winked.
She walked back over to Ben, swaying her hips for Spencer to look at. “Who was that?” The blonde asked.
Y/N sighed. “Oh, just one of my dad’s coworkers.” She shrugged.
Ben scoffed. “That twig is an FBI agent? He’s too tiny.” Y/N raised her eyebrows.
That twig’s dick Is most definitely not tiny.
She let out a fake giggle and waved his joke off. “More champagne?” She asked, nodding her head towards the catering woman who walked around with a tray.
“More? Really?” Ben asked. “You must be trying to get me drunk so you can take me home.” He laughed.
Y/N’s tongue slid across her teeth. “Yeah, most definitely not.” She shook her head. The woman walked by her and she snatched a glass off of the tray.
Spencer clenched his jaw as he watched Ben stare at his girlfriend like some porn actress.
I’m gonna kill him, I’m gonna kill him, I’m gonna kill hi—
“Reid! You made it!”
He snapped out of his jealous daze and looked down at Rossi. “Yes, I did.” He nodded.
Rossi held up his pen and his free hand. Spencer opened the book to the front page and held it up for him. He sighed the book quickly.
Spencer sighed before speaking. “If you knew Y/N and I are together then why did you set her up with him?” He asked, heavily annoyed.
He hummed. “I wanted to see how much she cared.”
Spencer squinted her eyes. “What do you mean?”
The man smiled. “I wanted to see if she cared enough about you and your relationship by going out with possibly the biggest pig in the city to to make sure that I didn’t find out about it. I wanted to see if she cared enough to keep you safe.”
Spencer let the corners of his mouth turn up. “Rossi, I love your daughter.” He spoke.
“And she loves you, kid. I Can tell.”
He sighed. “Thank you for not telling her. I don’t want her to be upset or nervous.”
Rossi nodded. “Anything to make my girl happy.” He sighed, watching her roll her eyes as she drank more champagne. “I’ve got more signings to do. See ya, kid.”
He nodded as he walked away, pulling his phone out of his pocket as he saw Ben reach to push her hair behind her ear. She moved away smoothly, playing it off like she had to cough. She kept trying to glance at Spencer without actually turning around.
To: Kool-Aid girl 💘
Meet me in the bathroom in five?
She looked around and saw him before looking back at Ben when she felt her phone buzz. “Sorry, about this.” She shook her head as she dug through her bag for her phone.
From: Kool-Aid girl 💘
Of fucking course
.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.
Their lips were heavy on each other’s. Her legs were wrapped around his waist while she was sitting on the counter.
She moaned so quietly as he thrusted his fingers in and out of her. Her hands grabbed at whatever they could. Her eyes never left his though. That was the one thing he wanted.
“Fuck, Spence—“ Her eyes watered at the immense amount of pleasure she was experiencing.
“This is mine— no one else’s.” He grunted. Y/N nodded and bit her lip. “Are you close baby?”
“So fucking close.” She nodded. “You’re- fuck— the only one that gets me there.” She added because 1, it was true and 2, she knew he was feeling a little insecure because of Ben.
Soon, she came on his fingers and shut her eyes, panting. She didn’t have to worry about getting her dress wet because Spencer had pulled it up as soon as they got in there.
Knock knock knock
“Hey is someone in there.”
Y/N’s eyes widened as she and Spencer recognized the voice. She squeezed her eyes shut. “Uh— it’s just me, dad.” She said, sliding off of the counter making sure that he heels hit the ground silently.
“What are you doing in the men’s restroom and why is the door locked? There’s like forty stall in there.”’
“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” She whispered. “Uh, I had a woman emergency and someone was in the other restroom.” She nodded her head at Spencer towards the door at the other end of the room. She had no idea what it led to but oh what the hell, right?
Spencer started walking silently towards it as she pulled her dress back down to where it was supposed to be.
She watched him walk through the door and disappear and sighed. She unlocked the bathroom door and smiled at her dad. “Hi, daddy. Sorry.” She mumbled, walking past him.
.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.
Now, Spencer and Y/N laid together in his bed. They were just in each other’s company. Again, his fingers were drawing random patterns on her back as she dozed off.
“Hey, Y/N? Before you go to sleep…” He spoke quietly not to startle her. She hummed and nuzzled her face into his chest.
“Thank you for caring.”
She smiled and squeezed him. “I love you. I will always care.”
.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.
Holaaaaaaaa
I love this. Thanks to everyone who loved the first one so much!!!!!
You guys are amazing and I wanna kiss all of you.
Also ask me questions in my ask box!! I would love to answer them :))))
Anywaysssssssssss love ya bunches ❤️❤️❤️
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just-jordie-things · 2 months
Text
fuck it, i love you - okkotsu yuuta
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✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ 10k follower event special! ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
word count: 11k warnings: none really. reader likes lemon oreos bcuz i projected onto this <3 summary: (y/n) and yuuta get to know each other better over the phone while he's on assignment in africa. feelings ensue. more info: long distance friends to lovers, yuuta got that romance dawg in him
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
[ and you know everyone adores you // you can’t feel it and you’re tired // baby, wish that you would hold me or just say that you were mine // but it’s killing me slowly ]
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
The first time he gets a call from her, Yuuta is a little perplexed before he answers the phone.  Of the few people he might’ve expected a phone call from, (y/n’s) was the last name he expected to see on his screen.  Nonetheless, he answered it right away.
“Hello?” 
“Hey, Okkotsu,” Her voice was so cheerful, he could’ve easily believed that she meant to call someone else.  But she’d said his name, so it couldn’t have been a mistake.  “How’s Morocco?”
“Morocco, is….” He trails off, fingers tapping a poor rhythm on the table in front of him.  Doing paperwork in a hotel room wasn’t ideal.  The desk provided was always small, and the chair always uncomfortable.  But it wasn’t like he had a lot to report anyways.  “It’s alright, I guess” 
“Alright, you guess?” She repeats curiously.  “Sounds like you’re bored already” 
“Bored-? N-no, no I’m not bored,” He stammered over his words, and (y/n) could be heard laughing through the line.  “I’m just, um, I’m trying to do a report right now” He said sheepishly.
Trying being the key word.  He’d practically given up ten minutes before he got her call anyways.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” (y/n) apologized right away.  “Am I keeping you? Should I go?” 
“N-no!” Yuuta squeaked, cringing at himself as he slumped back into his hair, covering his face with his hand as if there was anyone else around to hide his embarrassment from.  “No, you’re not keeping me, I… I have nothing for this report anyways” He explained.
“Really? Not goin’ so well?” She asked.
“Uh- it’s just- I don’t want to bore you with it,” He sighed.  “Anyways, what’s the call for? Isn’t it like…” He glances behind him at the analog clock on his bedside table, wincing when he sees how late it was.  “Three in the morning, your time?” 
“Actually, it’s only two forty-five,” She corrects with a clear smile in her tone.  “And aren’t I allowed to check in? You’ve been gone, for like, weeks” 
“Y-yeah, you’re allowed,” He mumbles back, face feeling hot.  “I just figured, y’know, you’re… busy” 
“Never too busy,” She half-jokes.  “So tell me all about it, boring parts and all” 
Yuuta’s brows pinch together, a small scoff leaving his throat.
“Really?” He’s unsure as to why she’d want to hear about the ins and outs of a trip that so far had proven to be pointless.  “You sure you want to hear about it?” 
“Course,” She hums back.  “Beats studying” 
So he complies.  There’s not much to tell, but he finds a way to walk her through what his day-to-day with Miguel was like.  Looking for more of the Black Rope.  She seemed to have some interest in the cursed tool, asking excitedly if it could stop the cursed techniques of even the strongest special grade sorcerers.
“Yeah, that’s kinda the point,” He chuckles.  “But it’s been slow.  I’m starting to think this is going to take longer than we thought…” 
(y/n’s) a good listener.  She lets him ramble on even when he’s not making sense, and continues to prod and ask more questions when she comes up with them.  He thinks maybe she’s just stalling to keep her from studying, but he figures there were countless other things she could’ve done to keep her occupied… right? 
It’s not until Yuuta notices the clock and remembers the time difference between them that he finally stops his rambling and suggests they end their call soon.
“Ah- it’s late, and I’m probably boring you now, too” He lets out a light hearted chuckle that she can’t help but reciprocate.
“I guess I should try to study just a little” She huffs.
Yuuta scoffs, a small smile on his face as he picks up his pen and stares at the half-finished report in front of him.  Maybe he’d been stalling, too.
“Or you could just go to bed, cram last minute tomorrow” He suggests.
She seems amused by that, and when she lets out a little laugh he thinks it’s the right choice, too.  The noise comes out lazily, full of sleepiness.  It’s obvious even through the phone.  Yuuta wonders if she’s hunched over her desk, ignoring the textbook and notes right in front of her.
“You’re pr’lly right,” She murmurs, her tiredness even more evident in her voice.  “I guess I’ll go to bed then” 
“Okay,” Yuuta drums the pen against his thigh in an erratic beat.  Something about saying goodnight makes him feel a little disappointed.  
Until now, he hadn’t realized that it had been weeks since he’d casually talked to a friend.  Toge texted plenty, and sometimes he heard from Panda and Maki, too.  But this felt… different.
“Well, goodnight-” 
“And Okkotsu?” She interrupts him without realizing, quickly apologizing before she continues her thought.  “You didn’t bore me, just for the record.  I think it’s neat that you get to be on such a special assignment.  I hope that it gets more exciting for you” 
He’s thankful that she didn’t opt to facetime him, because his face grows so warm he just knows he’s turned into a tomato.  And something about sitting in his lonely little hotel room and blushing over such a simple comment is downright embarrassing.
He laughs nervously, tugging at the collar of his shirt to relieve the heat on his neck.
“Uh, yeah, me too,” He stammered quietly.  “Thanks.  Good luck with studying” 
She hums.
“Goodnight, Okkotsu.  Thanks for keeping me company” 
The call ends there, and Yuuta smiles to himself as he sets his phone down and finds the energy to finish up his pointless report.
Talking with her had been nice.  Maybe they hadn’t become the closest of friends between him enrolling at Jujutsu Tech and being shipped off to Africa, but he thinks that could- and should- change.
He’d have to make more of an effort to get closer to her while he was away.
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
When (y/n) calls again, it’s not so late this time.
Yuuta had just settled in the hotel lobby with his burrito for lunch, his only plan for the time being was to scroll aimlessly on his phone while he ate.  To his luck, just as he sat down on the stiff cushioned chair in the lobby, his phone rang.
“Okkotsu!” 
It had been a little over a week since their last call, and Yuuta had done his best to keep in touch with her since then.  A few photos of the wildlife native to the area that she seemed to enjoy, or a pretty sunrise here or there.  There were a lot of messages sent to her first thing in the morning, beautiful photos tagged with his complaints of being up so early.  It was the easiest time to use his phone, and he’d tried to make a habit of at least messaging her once a day.
To his delight, she always sent him a response.  It wasn’t always right away, with an eight hour time difference that was a steep ask, but she never failed to let him know that she saw his message and appreciated it somehow.  Whether it was an emoji reaction or a full text, she never left a text from him unanswered.  Strangely, Yuuta found this to be thoughtful of her.
“I’m cooking, can you believe it!?” She sounds excited, but the kind of excited that seems like something very wrong is about to happen.
“O-oh?” He stutters, chucking as he tucks his phone between his ear and shoulder so he could unwrap his burrito.  “What, are you not allowed, or something?” 
“Hush, I don’t let anyone tell me what to do,” She laughs at his comment, not realizing he wasn’t joking.  “I just haven’t cooked for myself properly since moving away from home.  The kitchen here is puny, though,” She mutters the last part.
The muffled sounds coming through the speaker sound as though she’s rummaging around the cabinets.  Yuuta tilts his phone away from his ear a little, the dishware clanking together more unpleasant than usual coming through a phone.
“But I thought it’d be nice to make a home cooked dinner.  I was going to make some for everyone, but I guess they already ate.  So it’s dinner for one tonight,” She explains.  Yuuta’s chest sinks with disappointment at the thought of missing quality time with his friends.  “Anyways, what’re you up to?” 
“Eating a burrito,” He replies dryly.  “What are you making? I’d much rather have that” 
“Don’t speak too soon, it’s been a while since I’ve been in a kitchen,” 
(y/n) laughs, and Yuuta does too.
“Just ramen,” She answers.  “Figured it’s best to start out simple.  Also figured I couldn’t set anything on fire” 
“Depends on how you look at it.  Setting something on fire while only cooking ramen might be an accomplishment, with how difficult it must be” 
He doesn’t mean to be funny, but (y/n’s) laughing again, and Yuuta smiles through a mouthful of burrito for saying something clever enough.  Pride swells in his chest the longer he hears her laughter turn to muted giggles while she’s pittering about the kitchen.
“You’re eating, should I let you go?” She asks once her laughter has calmed down.
“No, it’s alright,” Yuuta shakes his head even though he knows she can’t see.  “I’m bored anyways.  I was just going to sit here by myself and eat this burrito” 
She laughs again, lightly this time.
“Alright, then, want me to tell you about how hard Maki kicked my ass in training yesterday?” She offers.
He’d already had an inkling, recalling a harshly worded text from her followed by a photo of her left leg covered in blue and purple marks that were bound to grow dark soon.  He’d cringed when he’d seen it, giving the image a frowning emoji reaction before responding with, ‘Maki?’.  But he happily agrees to have her tell him the rest of the story behind the bruises.
He deems (y/n) and Maki to hold a far closer friendship than he did himself, so he knew that the next five minutes of ranting on her part is in good nature and she was only annoyed with losing, not necessarily with Maki herself.  That said, as someone who had dealt with the torture of training with her, Yuuta understood the feeling quite well.  He laughs when she talks about being thrown to the ground like a ragdoll, and he winces when she tells him about the absolute beatdown she’d taken.
It’s a gruesome retelling, even though at times she talks as if it was as casual a part of her day as brushing her teeth had been.  The life of a jujutsu sorcerer was always an unorthodox one.
“She didn’t even try to go easy on me, Okkotsu.  But, she did get me an ice cream sandwich with my ice pack, so she’s still my best friend, I guess” She’s only teasing, evident in the way she giggles.
“Yuuta” He says without thinking, having happened to swallow the last of his food and finally getting a chance to speak.
“Hm- what?” 
“You can just call me Yuuta” He clarifies, eyes darting around the lobby to be sure no one could see him blushing.  
His voice grows quieter as he suddenly feels bashful in the public setting.  None of the people passing in and out of the space pay him a second glance, and it doesn’t dawn on him that they might not even understand his language, but his body language says enough.  He’s tucked into the corner chair, hunched over and holding the phone as close to his face as possible so he wouldn’t have to raise his voice too much.  Not to mention, his face was turning a rosy shade of pink.
“Alright, Yuuta,” (y/n) muses, testing the waters to see how his name sounded.  It felt foreign, and it had the color in Yuuta’s face darkening even faster, but she seemed amused by the change.  “Ramen’s coming along pretty well, I think it’ll actually be edible!” 
She’s quick to move on from the semi-serious topic.  He’s relieved for this, and does his best to come across as casual as possible.  He asks her about the recipe, and she talks to him for a while about her process until the conversation somehow turns back on him and he’s updating her about Morocco.
Time passes so easily, Yuuta barely realizes that he’s been sitting in the lobby for an hour, not thinking about how she had finished her dinner and eaten it too.  (y/n) never mentions the time either, unknown to him, sitting on the counter in the common room’s kitchenette as she talks aimlessly about anything and everything she can think of.  Yuuta enjoys hearing about it all, the shenanigans that she’s been up to with Toge, the odd style of teaching that Gojo has, even just the simple things, like how yesterday it had rained.
There’s something magical about being on the phone with her, he realizes halfway into hearing about how she’d gone outside to help the worms back into the grass after the rainfall.  Not only does he lose time, but there’s not a dull moment.  Most of his days had become so bland and boring they’d started to blend together.  Besides the occasional sword training, he’d spent the majority of his time wandering about with Miguel.  It was starting to feel aimless, with every passing day that they came up empty handed.
Talking with her was everything but boring, never boring.  It finally felt like he had some company to get him through this assignment.  He hoped that this second call meant they could make more of a habit out of it.
“I should probably go so I can clean up the kitchen,” She sighs when she finally suggests getting off the phone.  It’s then, and only then, that Yuuta checks the time, quickly pulling his phone away to tap the screen before putting it up to his ear again.  “I think it’d be obnoxious for me to stay on the phone while I do the dishes” She adds with a chuckle.
His heart spikes at the idea of her wanting to keep talking, though.
“Y-yeah, that might be too loud,” He replies.  “But that’s okay, I should probably get some training in, or something, anyways” 
“Gotta keep up that Special Grade status,” (y/n) teases.  He’s grateful she can’t see him fluster every time she teases him, no matter how lighthearted it is.  He’s not sure why it sends him into a mini panic every time, but he hopes he gets a hang of himself soon, if they’re going to keep talking like this.  “Talk soon, though?” 
He’d really have to learn to get a hold of himself.  The short question has him beaming and nodding his head wildly, although the only people to see it are the hotel staff at the check-in desk who’d been peeking glances at the weird talkative boy on his phone for the last two hours.
Yuuta clears his throat before speaking, hoping to sound as normal as possible.
“Yeah, yeah we can talk again soon”
He’s not sure how well he does.
“Okay, cool,” The smile is evident in her tone, and in turn has Yuuta smiling too.  “Talk to you later then, Yuuta” 
Maybe he was just hopeless, but hearing his name again has him blushing and fidgeting in his seat.
“Bye, (y/n)” 
Even once the call has ended and his phone is sitting lifeless in his lap, with the rush of adrenaline Yuuta gets, one might think he’d just received the best news of his life.  Funnily enough, he hadn’t received much news at all- besides the fact that the worms on Jujutsu Tech Tokyo’s property were safe and accounted for after a life threatening sprinkle- so his giddiness was solely brought on by talking with her.
Slowly but surely, she was becoming his favorite person to talk to.
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
[y/n]: need ur help, it’s urgent [y/n]: ok woah i should not have said it like that
[yuuta]: ??? are you ok???
[y/n]: need u to help me win a bet
[yuuta]: ._. [yuuta]: ok.
[y/n]: vanilla oreos suck, right? 
[yuuta]: this was urgent? 
[y/n]: panda said they’re his favorite flavor.
[yuuta]: oh god. [yuuta]: he needs a wellness check for sure.
[y/n]: THANK YOU  [y/n]: toge said his fav were the birthday cake ones but the vanilla weren’t bad. he’s still got the taste of a toddler, but at least they’re not his FAVORITE i mean cmon.  vanilla is just bad. [y/n]: i knew you’d understand me.
[yuuta]: ur right this was urgent.  i thought i knew them. [yuuta]: what are your favorite?
[y/n]: obviously i told them original.
[yuuta]: … implying they’re not actually your favorite? 
[y/n]: you’re asking very personal questions, yuuta
[yuuta]: lmfao [yuuta]: i’ll tell u mine if u tell me urs :)
[y/n]: u first i’m shy :)
[yuuta]: original are good.  but i like the toffee ones best 
[y/n]: interesting.
[yuuta]: so am i getting judged for my oreo preference, too? 
[y/n]: lol no.  ur safe.  for now ;)
[yuuta]: well we had a deal.  what’s ur fav?
[y/n]: … i like the lemon ones
[yuuta]: :o [yuuta]: don’t those come with a VANILLA cookie???
[y/n]: … [y/n]: maybe.
[yuuta]: ur ridiculous
[y/n]: but the lemon flavor makes it different.  it’s not PLAIN vanilla.
[yuuta]: can’t argue with u there
[y/n]: ya bcuz u wouldn’t dare :)
[yuuta]: no i wouldn’t :) 
[y/n]: mwahaha i have the big scary special grade afraid of me :)
[yuuta]: idk about big.  and the scary is all rika
[y/n]: does she have a take on the great oreo flavor debate? &lt;3
[yuuta]: … [yuuta]: she always preferred animal crackers.
[y/n]: &lt;;/3
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
When Yuuta finally works up the courage to call her first, it’s been a couple weeks.
Which in hindsight, it feels like too much time has passed.  Even though they’ve been texting every single day nearly nonstop.  Yuuta had grown so attached to his phone it was almost becoming a problem.
Not that he’d admit it.
“Okkotsu Yuuta!” She picks up the phone with the same eagerness she’d held the last time she’d called him.  “To what do I owe the pleasure?” 
“I was bored, and was hoping you had something interesting going on,” He sighed, falling backwards on the perfectly made bed in his room.  Too perfect.  It was always annoying to tug the covers out of their tightly tucked corners to comfortably sleep at night.  “All I’ve been doing is train and I’m exhausted” He grumbles.
(y/n) hums through the speaker.
“Well if you’re that bored, I suppose I could tell you about a boy conflict of mine,” She suggests.
Just as Yuuta was starting to relax into the mattress, he felt his spine go stiff as a chill shot from his tailbone all the way up to his neck.  It feels like his entire body has been drenched in icy water, freezing him solid.
“It’s okay if that’s too… weird, though” He’s drawn back to reality by (y/n’s) nervous laugh, something he doesn’t hear all that often.  It’s strained and awkward, displaying every bit of anxious emotion that she felt.  
“It’s not weird,” Yuuta’s not usually very good at lying, people always have a way of seeing right through him.  He wonders if he’s only decent at telling this one because she’s not physically here.  She can’t see the way his face contorts as it tries to stay neutral, or how his fingers start to tap against the comforter beneath him.  “Boy conflict is… normal” He adds.
He’d meant that one, but she laughs anyway.
“I guess so,” She sighs through the speaker.  “But I’ve never really had any before.  Not like you get to meet a lot of people.  But… I guess I met someone..?”
Yuuta’s gut twists, and he wonders if he ate something bad with his lunch.  Maybe the chicken was undercooked? No, it seemed fine.  He probably just ate too fast.
“That feels less like conflict and more like interest” His jaw feels tight when he talks.  With his free hand, he rubs at it and tries to keep his teeth from clenching.
“Well, I am interested,” 
Distantly, Yuuta thinks he should swallow some tums before he goes to bed so this stomach ache won’t keep him up all night.
“At least, I think I am,” (y/n) sighs again.  “He’s not a sorcerer, I met him at a corner store I went to with Maki,” She explains.  “He was cute and all, I guess we had a moment over the energy drinks? It’s kind of a blur, I didn’t really pay attention until he was handing me his number and now I have this number and- I don’t know.  Is that weird?” 
Yuuta’s not really sure what to tell her.  He’s not really sure how he feels about it.  His gut tells him that yes, it is weird, and she shouldn’t be going out with some guy she met at a convenience store.  Anyone can walk into one of those, he thinks bitterly, his brow furrowed as he thought over her dilemma.
“Well, um, did he seem… nice?” 
The question comes out pathetic.  Yuuta’s smacking his hand over his face from how stupid he sounds, and feels.  
“Yeah, I guess” (y/n) answers anyways.
“Then I guess ball’s in your court?” The suggestion comes out more as a question than he means it to.  Yuuta thinks he wasn’t equipped for this, and maybe he should have told her it was a weird thing for them to talk about.
But he wouldn’t have meant that.  He would talk to her about anything, and he wanted her to feel the same.  He wanted her to talk about anything and everything she wanted.  Lord knows he’d take an interest in it. 
However the interest he has in this conversation isn’t quite like normal.  His curiosity is less genuine.  It feels like it’s lurching around in his mind, something disappointed yet irritable growing in it’s place.  He hates the feeling.  He hates feeling that way towards her.  Even if it wasn’t directed at her specifically.
“You’re right,” There’s more determination in her voice now.  “I should just text him, right?”
No, Yuuta’s jaw is clenched again, teeth grinding loudly.  He hopes she can’t hear it through the phone.  No, don’t let some stranger have your number.  He doesn’t deserve it like I do.
“Right!” His voice is louder than he means to, as if trying to overpower the jealous train of thought that runs through his mind.
He’s sitting upright on the bed in a second, still rigid and uncomfortable, but his anxiety makes him want to pace.  He needs to work off the awkward feeling in his chest somehow.
“Then I can see what he’s like,” (y/n) speaks as though she’s really telling herself what made the most sense.  Yuuta’s nodding wordlessly, his eyes fixated on a spot on the floor that’s growing more blurry by the second.  “And then if I like him… maybe we can go out or something” She mumbles the last part, clearly distracted.  
He wonders if she’s texting him now.  The idea of her reaching out to this random guy while she’s on the phone with him sends his heart plummeting to his already upset stomach.
Where were all of these nasty feelings coming from? 
“Yeah, that’s probably a good idea” Yuuta’s speaking, but it feels distant, he’s not exactly sure of what he’s saying.
“Alright.  I’ll text him later, then,” 
He’s relieved that she wasn’t doing it this very moment, but there was still an unsettling pit in his stomach knowing she was bound to reach out at some point.
“Thanks, Yuuta.  So, what’s been going on with you?” 
It takes a while of chatting and pacing the room before Yuuta feels like himself again.  He’s lucky there wasn’t a circle burned in the shape of his track in the tightly coiled carpeting of his room, certainly he would’ve had to call Gojo for a favor if he was billed for such damage.
Eventually the nasty feeling in his chest settles and he’s sitting in the bed again, the notebook he was drafting up today’s report on propped on his legs and his phone at his side, (y/n’s) voice on speaker as she tells him about the rest of her and Maki’s outing in the shopping district.
As it always does, time goes by too quickly, and soon enough she’s yawning through the speaker and telling him it was getting too late for her.
“But thanks for calling, Yuuta.  I was starting to think you didn’t know phones worked both ways” She teases softly.
Had she been waiting for him to call? 
“Yeah, anytime.  I just… you know the time difference… I don’t ever want to bother you” 
“You? Bother me?” She giggles.  “After you let me talk your ear off about a boy, I don’t think that’s what’s happening here,” She tells him.
The nasty feeling swells again.
“Besides, you could never bother me,” She adds, her tone much softer.  Almost sweet.  Yuuta can’t tell if his stomach is convulsing or doing flips.  “But call again sometime, m’kay?” 
“Okay,” He says, hopeful, and just as eager as he felt.  “G’night, (y/n)” 
“Bye Yuuta, goodnight!” 
His phone lights up with the low battery icon once the call is over.  He’s slow to plug the charger into it and leave it on his nightstand for the evening, his mind still mulling over everything she’d told him.  Or more so, how he’d felt taking in all that information.
He couldn’t have possibly been jealous, right? Not over some random guy.  Not because of her.  They were friends, after all.  Friends that didn’t even get that close until after he left.  In his time at Jujutsu Tech he’d only spoken to her a handful of times, and mostly in passing.  It wouldn’t feel right to have something like jealousy spark up now.  No, he was probably just worried for her, seeing as he couldn’t look out for her when he’s thousands of miles away.  Yeah, that was it.
It couldn’t have anything to do with the way he felt his world light up when she laughed.  Or that getting a text message from her in the sound effect that he’d picked out just for her contact had serotonin spiking in his brain.  
None of those things were connected at all.
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
The fourth time they talk on the phone, unfortunately, he has to hear about this guy again.
Yuuta’s not even sure he knows his name.  He thinks (y/n) must’ve mentioned it once or twice in their texts, but it’s never quite stuck, and honestly, Yuuta doesn’t want to ask.
Not that he cares- it wasn’t like that at all.  It had simply been too long for it to feel appropriate to ask.  He didn’t want her to think he didn’t listen, is all.
He’d called one evening when yet again he felt like putting off writing up his report.  It had almost become a habit to reach out to her as soon as he was stalling, or bored.  He didn’t have much to talk about, he never really did, but he had been eager to tell her about some new cuisine he’d tried that he’d thought she might like. 
There was a pesky thought in the back of his mind about her visiting him for a few days.  Only pesky due to how often it presented itself, even when he should’ve been focused on more pressing matters.  He knew it was bad when Miguel had taken notice and smacked him upside the head to get him to pay attention- on this earth, preferably, he’d said.
But he couldn’t help it.  The idea of having her here, for a few days or a few weeks, had become his go-to daydream.  He already knew everything he’d want to show her, the busy, colorful markets and the good food Yuuta hadn’t known existed until coming here.  To how pretty the beaches were at sunset, especially when the little hermit crabs would wake up and wander around the shore, he thinks she’d like that a lot.
Even just the idea of having her around to hang out with and chat about anything and nothing, just like how they do through their phones, had his chest buzzing with warmth and excitement.  Even though it was all in his head and logic told him she probably couldn’t make such a trip.  She had her own assignments and lessons after all, and technically he was supposed to be working.
Nonetheless, when he found himself getting bored, his mind drifted off to pretending she was there with him to keep him company.  Sometimes it even did the trick.
Tonight when he calls her, he’s kicking around the idea of bringing it up.  Maybe if she took it well enough he could reach out to Gojo about it, surely he had the social standing and the funds to let her visit.  His heart is thrumming in his chest just thinking about it, every ring of the dial tone putting him further on the edge of his seat.
It rings a total of five times before she finally answers.  It’s not all that late in Tokyo, just half past nine, but suddenly Yuuta worries that this wasn’t a good time to call.
“Hey,” He’s the first to speak, grinning from ear to ear when the line finally clicks and she’s answered the call.  “Is this a bad time?” 
“Uh, n-no,” She stutters back, voice quiet and a little raspier than usual.  Had she been sleeping? She speaks before he can double check if it was an okay time to talk.  “I’m not doing anything.  What’s up?” 
Yuuta can’t quite put his finger on it, but it certainly sounds like it’s a bad time.  Her voice is lacking it’s usual mirth, and she sounds like she’s purposefully trying not to raise her voice.  His smile begins to fall as his brain starts to stir with worry.
“Nothing, really.  Just… wanted to talk, I guess,” It feels a little embarrassing to admit, but for once, she’s not teasing him.  It’s strange, not hearing her softly poke fun at him when he’d clearly given her an opening to do so.  “What’re you doing?” 
“It’s almost ten here, I’m in bed” 
The words almost come out cold, a bitterness to them that Yuuta wasn’t used to.  If it weren’t for the crack in her voice, he might’ve thought she was upset with him.  But there’s a noticeable little hitch in the middle of her words that tells him it’s not annoyance he’s picking up on.
“Hey,” His voice is quiet as he sits on his bed, brows furrowing as he feels the mood shift even in a room thousands of miles away from hers.  “Is something wrong?” 
“No” Comes her instant answer, but it’s not remotely believable.  Her voice is so quiet and muffled it barely comes through the speaker, and shortly after he hears a shuffling that sounds like a heap of blankets being tossed around.
“C’mon, wanna talk about it?” He pressed again, dragging his finger over the crisp comforter on the bed to create misshapen invisible designs.  “What happened, (y/n)?” He asks again, voice softer than before.
The tiniest of sniffles could be heard, and his heart sinks at the idea of her sitting alone in bed and crying.  Whatever caused it he was sure he could find a way to solve it.  It wasn’t often that Yuuta felt cocky with his Special Grade status, but in this moment he was sure he was the most powerful person in the world, and if something had bothered her this much, he’d certainly be able to take care of it.
“It’s- it’s stupid,” The high pitch in the cracking of her voice was more evident the louder she spoke.  He’s worried she was going to leave it at that, maybe tell him to leave her alone or hang up altogether.  Then he hears a wobbly inhale before she’s whimpering through her words again.  “I’m so stupid, Yuuta, what was I thinking?”
His heart cracks with every word she speaks.  He’s not sure what put her in such pain, but he swears, he’s experiencing it too just knowing she was hurting.  He places his free hand over his chest to ease the hollow feeling that carves itself there.
“What d’ya mean? You’re not stupid, not remotely.  C’mon, y’know that,” He tries to keep his voice light and gentle, even though the growing put in his stomach had his throat closing up.  “What happened? Talk to me” He pleads softly.
(y/n) sniffles, before trying to even out her breathing again so she didn’t sound so pathetic when she talked.
“I don’t even want to tell you, it’s so stupid,” She admits.  “B-but everyone else is busy, o-or gone and I- I don’t want to cry about it anymore,” 
Had she been crying for a while? His heart seizes at the thought.
“Promise you won’t laugh at me?” She mumbles.  Yuuta nodded his head rapidly in response.
“Yeah, yeah of course I promise.  I won’t laugh at you” He tells her with grave sincerity.
She sighs, breath still shaky, but she does her best to talk through it.
In a wobbly, quiet voice, she tells him everything.  About how she had plans to meet up with convenience-store-guy that Yuuta still hadn’t caught the name of.  How she’d taken plenty of time to plan out her outfit and put herself together, how in the meantime he’d been nothing short of flirtatious and sweet, leading her to believe he’d been eager to go out with her.  She tells him how an hour before they were set to meet up a block away from campus, she’d stopped hearing from him altogether.  She laughs humorlessly as she explains she’d sent nearly ten messages asking where he was or if he needed to reschedule before she’d dropped it completely and walked herself back home.
“No text, no call.  Absolutely n-nothing,” She mutters bitterly.  “But I don’t g-get it, did I do something wr-wrong?” 
“Of course not,” Yuuta sighed, trying to release the tension of his building irritation so he could keep his focus on comforting her.  “He’s just… he’s stupid, okay? I don’t know what his deal is, but you dodged a bullet, for sure.  If that’s how he acts before a first date, imagine how terrible he would’ve been by the twentieth” 
Surprisingly, he’s not terrible when it comes to consoling her.  (y/n) hums tiredly in agreement.  It doesn’t necessarily take the pain away, but there is some relief in knowing it never would have worked out.
“Yeah,” She breathes out.  “But… I was excited, you know?” She mumbles.  “I’ve never been on a real date before, at least I don’t think I have, but I think I’d know,” She explains.  “I just… I thought I’d feel normal for a night.  I- I thought he liked me.  I kinda liked him, too.  But mostly I…” She trails off, and they both remain silent for a few beats, each processing their own mess of thoughts.  “I liked the idea of being liked, I guess.  Is that selfish?”
“Of course not,” Yuuta chuckles warmly.  “Everyone wants that.  It’s completely normal,” He says.  “Besides, it’s not like you were imagining things.  He did have an interest.  Who wouldn’t?” 
The last part comes out before he can realize what he’s actually saying, and his face grows hot with the insinuation of his words.  He’s stammering to fix it, which doesn’t help him much, but he tries.
“W-what I mean is that there will be plenty of other people who will meet you and fall for you completely and y-you’ll be swarmed with phone numbers and people who like you!” 
He doesn’t mean to raise his voice, but his nerves are starting to take over as the word vomit continues.  (y/n’s) quiet as she listens intently, and the longer she doesn’t speak up to stop him, the worse his rambling becomes.
“You’ll have to fight ‘em all off, you know? There’s so many people out there who haven’t been lucky enough to meet you yet, and when they do you’ll get to experience everything you want.  You know what?”
There’s a soft ‘what?’ from her end before he continues on his rant.
“It’s a good thing your first date wasn’t with that prick anyways.  It wouldn’t have been fair.  It wouldn’t have been right at all if your first date was boring or shitty or- or anything short of special and electric, okay?” 
(y/n) still doesn’t say anything, but she’s hanging onto every word he says, even when they’re rushed and he’s stumbling over them, all of her focus is on what he’s saying.
“Because you deserve it.  And anyone who is remotely worth your time will know that.  And they’ll- they’ll text you too much before you finally go out, because they’ll be nervous because you make them nervous because you’ll be so out of their league, you know?” He doesn’t even pause before continuing.  “And they’ll pick you up on time if not early because they’ll respect your time, and they’ll have flowers- the prettiest, most expensive bouquet they could find- right? A bouquet even Gojo couldn’t afford,” 
She lets out a watery laugh that has Yuuta easing up in his rambling, a warm feeling planting in his chest in the hopes she’d smiled, even just a little bit, even if it was through her tears, he’d provoked just a little bit of joy from her.
“And… and if you’re anything short of completely swept away, then you’ll call Maki and she’ll come get you so you don’t have to spend another second wasting your time with a loser that doesn’t deserve you” 
His chest is heaving a bit when he finally stops, not realizing he was losing his breath the longer he rambled on.  His face feels hot as he processes everything he’d just dumped on her, and he prays that it wasn’t as pathetic as he’s worrying it was.
There’s a few small sniffles before (y/n) speaks up.
“Well, if you were back home, I’d just call you,” She says softly.  Her voice doesn’t sound as strained as before, and Yuuta hopes it means she’d stopped crying.  “You really think I’ll be able to find all that?” 
“Yeah, ‘course I do,” He mumbles back, although his words hold absolute certainty.  “Not a doubt in my mind” 
She giggles, a real little laugh that he can almost see.  It’s short and sweet and it has him elated that he’d lightened her mood.  He’s not sure what exactly he did, but he’s grateful that the word vomit was beneficial for once.
“Thank you, Yuuta,” She murmurs.  “You’re right, and, I actually feel a little better,” 
His heart soars, and he’s smiling to himself again with pride and relief.
“I’m still going to watch Pride and Prejudice before bed, though.  I’d already committed to it and I can’t just go to sleep now” She tells him seriously.  Yuuta laughs, falling back on his bed as comfortably as he could with his feet still planted on the ground.
“I’ve never seen it,” He tells her.  “But don’t stay up too-” 
“Never?” She interrupts with a gasp of shock.  “Yuuta, that’s criminal” 
He chuckles again.  “Is it really?” 
“Yes, very much so,” She tells him.  “When you’re back we have to watch it, okay?” 
“Yeah, sure-” 
“No, promise” She demanded for the second time that night.
“I promise,” He repeats, smiling to himself as his gaze wanders the ceiling.  
He couldn’t help but think that if she were to visit him, they could spend a whole afternoon here in this room watching her movie, probably eating snacks and making a mess of the place as they got cozy for it.  This room had always remained perfectly tidy, so much so it was almost boring.  Having her in it would surely brighten it up and give it some life, he thinks.
“We’ll watch it as soon as I’m back” He tells her.
“Okay.  Good.  You were on thin ice for a second, you know” She murmurs sleepily.  He can hear her yawning.
“Was I?” He muses.  “Is that what it takes to get you to hang up on me?” 
“Are you suggesting I wouldn’t?” She quips back, and he’s glad that her teasing nature has come around again.
“I’m suggesting you never have before” Yuuta shrugs.  His fingers are pressed firmly against the back of his phone, keeping it close to his ear so he couldn’t miss the way she laughed at him.
“Yeah, well, maybe you’re just good company,” She hums.  “But it is late and I want to watch this movie, so I guess there’s a first for everything” 
His face is warm and he feels full, like he’d just eaten a good meal, despite him having skipped lunch in order to call her.  Yuuta smiles lazily at the blank ceiling as he hums back to her.
“Alright, enjoy your movie,” He says.  “But, uh, you can call me again.  Y’know, if you… need to.  Or want to” 
There’s a pause before she responds.
“Okay,” It comes out in a hushed whisper.  “Have a good rest of your day, Yuuta” 
The time difference has his lips pinching into a frown, but he quickly tries to hold onto the last few seconds of joy he has while talking to her.
“Goodnight, (y/n)”
The call ends, and he drops his phone to the mattress, letting it sit forgotten beside his head.  He stays put in his semi-comfortable position, still staring at the ceiling as his hands fall to his sides.  His chest felt tight, and his mind a little dazed as he replayed the call over and over in his mind.  The hurt he’d felt when she was hurting, the relief he’d felt when she was happy.  It was overwhelming, the way his own emotions were thrown through the wringer depending on hers.
His heart was hammering in his chest so hard, Yuuta knew he couldn’t deny his feelings any longer.
He was falling for her.  Fast, and hard.
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
[yuuta]: [attachment]: one image [yuuta]: i think you’d like these little guys
[y/n]: :D a hermit crab!!! [y/n]: so cute! can’t believe ur holding it, i’d be scared of getting pinched
[yuuta]: i’m special grade, i’m not scared of anything :)
[y/n]: getting real comfy with throwing that title around, huh? you must think so low of me, a mere second grade.  i could never amount to the *mighty* okkotsu yuuta.
[yuuta]: lol shut up it’s just a crab
[y/n]: he is super cute.  his name is yuu now :)
[yuuta]: bcuz u miss me so much? :)
[y/n]: bcuz he’s small and feisty.  that little claw looks ready to attack :>
[yuuta]: ok i’ll admit he did pinch me once. [yuuta]: but in his defense i did pick him up and i am a big scary human
[y/n]: lmfao [y/n]: i thought we just established ur small and feisty
[yuuta]: i don’t think i like being called small 
[y/n]: tiny  [y/n]: smol [y/n]: just a baby
[yuuta]: are we still talking abt the crab?? 
[y/n]: and maybe a little cute [y/n]: if we’re still talking about similarities :) 
[yuuta]: cute???????
[y/n]: when u first came to jujutsu tech u were kinda like a hermit crab LMFAO [y/n]: i think if u had a shell u would’ve lived in it for WEEKS XD
[yuuta]: ._.
[y/n]: :)
[yuuta]: ur being a menace today [yuuta]: more than usual
[y/n]: it’s bcuz gojo’s lesson plan so far has been fighting the air :/ idk how he’s a teacher.  i’m definitely not learning anything [y/n]: except that i might be able to take him in a fight without cursed energy
[yuuta]: my money is on u :)  [yuuta]: but also i’ll be there with ice cream when u get ur ass kicked 
[y/n]: &lt;;/3[y/n]: that’s my broken heart[y/n]: you’ve broken my heart.
[yuuta]: lol [yuuta]: but there will be ice cream [yuuta]: <3
[y/n]: …  [y/n]: ok i might forgive u
[yuuta]: is it bcuz i’m cute  [yuuta]: :)) [yuuta]: ?? (y/n) ?? [yuuta]: :(( [yuuta]: don’t ghost me ik ur not paying attention in class
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
The tenth phone call they have, (y/n’s) the one calling him.
It’s one in the morning his time, so he’s sound asleep on the mattress that still feels stiff after about three months of him sleeping on it.  Every day he longs more and more to go back home to his cozy room and his friends and her.  
When his ringtone blares, a pretty tune that’s suddenly the most obnoxious sound on the planet, he’s awake right away.  Jolting from his slumber and reaching around blindly in search of the device.  He nearly shoves everything on his bedside table right off, his arm swinging with too much force in his desperate attempt to pick up the phone.
Even once it’s in his hand, it takes him a second to steadily press the accept button, his vision blurry and sleep still threatening to take back over.  It takes him a few tries before he’s answering the call and laying the phone on his pillow next to his head.
“Hello?” He rasps out.
“Yuuta!” (y/n’s) all too cheery for one in the morning, but he distantly remembers it’s the early evening in Tokyo.  His eyes squeeze shut as he rubs at them tiredly.  “Yuuta! How could you not tell me the good news!?” 
She’s yelling, and even without his phone on speaker he hears her perfectly fine just having the device laying next to his head.  It’s a shock to his ears, his mind buzzing as it tries to wake him up to deal with the noise.  But he snuggles deeper into his pillow, rolling onto his side to press his face into the feathery plushness.
“-was gonna wait,” He mumbles sleepily.  “Y’know, ‘til I was awake, ‘nd it was a normal time” His words are followed by a low chuckle.  The pillow suddenly becomes the comfiest thing he’s ever touched, and even the stiff mattress becomes a little more inviting.
“Wait?” She repeats the word before gasping dramatically.  “Okkotsu Yuuta, I had to hear you were coming back from Toge!” 
He chuckles again at her antics.  He’s still exhausted, but his chest feels warm hearing the excitement in her voice.
“Do you know how long it took him to tell me? Hm? He did charades, Yuuta.  Charades!” The image has him laughing a little more, shoulders shaking just a little bit as he listens to her go on.  “I’m terrible at charades by the way.  The whole thing took, like, fifteen minutes.  I was pissed he couldn’t just write it down” 
“Toge’s jus’ like that” He mumbles.
“But you told him before me?” 
Yuuta’s not sure if the offense in her tone is fake or not.  To play it safe, he covers his tracks.
“No,” He sighs.  “Gojo pr’lly told him.  He only just told me before I went to bed” 
“And you didn’t even text,” (y/n) huffs, but he can hear the laugh she’s trying to hold back.  He smiles in relief knowing she was just sticking to her bit.  “Well you better actually text me as soon as you’re back!” She says threateningly.  “We have plans.  You promised” 
“How could I forget?” He hums, voice low and growing quieter as his body beckons him to fall back to sleep.
“Okay.  Good,” She says definitively.  “I guess I’ll let you go back to sleep.  Sorry for waking you up” 
He hums in amusement.
“Don’t be sorry for being so excited to see me you couldn’t contain it,” He teases quietly.  (y/n’s) silent on the other end of the line.  “And don’t be embarrassed, either” He adds.
“I’m not embarrassed!” She squeaks, making him chuckle some more.  Maybe he was just deprived of his sleep, but she was extra cute when he was the one doing the teasing.  “But I… I am excited to see you” 
He smiles into his pillow, sighing contentedly into it.
“I know sweetheart,” He mumbles.  “And ‘m excited to see you too” 
She’s failing to stifle a giggle through the speaker.
“Okay okay, you’re clearly wiped.  I’ll let you go,” She says.  “Goodnight, Yuuta” 
“Night, (y/n)” 
He’s asleep before she even ends the call, drawn back into rest by the suddenly comfortable bedding and the sweet echo of her laughter playing in his mind.
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
(y/n) had been adamant about having their movie night the same night he gets back to Tokyo.  With the jet lag and the time difference keeping him awake against his wishes, she was sure that having a relaxed evening inside would be the best way to ease him back into being at home.
Yuuta, on the other hand, tried to make it clear that they didn’t have to rush into it.  His flight would land at eleven in the evening, and he was sure he wouldn’t even be back to campus before midnight.  While it might have felt like early afternoon to him, (y/n) would have already had a full day of lessons and training, and likely be exhausted by that time.
However she was stubborn.  It didn’t matter how much he tried to persuade her otherwise, she remained certain that she would stay awake long enough to greet him and have a simple, fun night set up for them.
And who was he to fight too hard against it anyways? The idea of her going through the trouble and wanting to stay up so late just to see him gave him energy for the whole day.  He was smiling through customs, bouncing his leg waiting to board, texting her as much as possible before he’d have to put his phone on airplane mode, and greeting every employee and flight attendant with so much delight it was infectious.  He’d even gotten an extra package of goldfish for his delightful friendliness.
He’s as quick as can be picking up his checked luggage and rushing out of the airport.  Anyone who saw might have thought he was late, but in actuality he was trying to be as early as possible.  He’d practically crashed into Ijichi, almost racing past him, but just as quickly recognition flashed in his eyes and he gave the manager a bone crushing hug, forgetting his strength.
The man was alarmed by the affection, awkwardly patting the boy’s back before stepping out of the embrace and nervously laughing.  He leads Yuuta out of the building and towards the sleek black car that’s waiting to take him home.  Yuuta’s positively buzzing the whole ride.  It’s obvious that Ijichi is tired, it’s almost the middle of the night after all, but he does find some amusement in Yuuta’s pure and unfiltered excitement.
However when the boy shouts for a pit stop at a local twenty-four hour grocery shop, the man almost drives the car right off the road, slamming on the brakes and pulling over roughly enough to wake him up completely.  If Yuuta notices the harsh driving maneuvers, he doesn’t say anything.  Simply grabbing his wallet and rushing inside the building.  Ijichi swears all these kids pumped full of muscles and adrenaline would be the death of him.
Yuuta comes back with a full paper bag and a grin, thanking the manager as they continue the drive home without a hitch.
He shouldn’t have the energy he does when they arrive, but Ijichi watches in shock as Yuuta easily carries all of his bags and the delicate groceries and breaks into a full sprint for the dorms, hollering one last thank you as he does.
He’s unceremonious as he drops his things in his room.  There is a certain comfort in being back in a space he can contently call his own, but the welcome home nap he was so eager to take in his own bed could wait.  He leaves his things and is swept away by his own two feet as he hurries down the hall.
There’s the faintest of light peeking out under only one door, all the others tightly shut and seemingly dark inside.  It was past midnight, and there were lessons first thing tomorrow morning.  He’s hesitant for only a second as he reaches the door, but adrenaline takes over again and he’s knocking as quietly as he can.
He can barely hear someone inside, although he doesn’t make out any real words.  Just to be safe, he knocks again.
“H’llo?” A tired voice calls back a little louder this time.
Yuuta’s hand is shaking when he reaches for the latch and slides the door open, just barely peeking inside.
He’d seen (y/n’s) room maybe once in passing, but he hadn’t taken a real glance, and definitely never stepped inside.  Now, he takes it all in with his face lit up in pure astonishment.
It’s decorated with string lights, soft and twinkling slowly here and there.  Just enough to give some ambience without it being overpowering.  Her small television is flickering with the title screen of her adored movie.  She’s curled up in a heap of blankets on the bed, and for a few seconds he thinks she’s asleep.  But her head tiredly lifts to see who her visitor was, and like a switch, she’s full of energy.
“Yuuta!” 
His name falls from her lips in soft awe, and she’s throwing her blankets back and sitting upright, shifting to get out of bed.  Yuuta’s beaming back at her, stepping into the room and turning to slide the door shut behind him.  The others would be quite annoyed if they were to be woken up at this hour.
She’s stumbling a bit towards him, her arms outstretched and her face in a lazy grin.  It takes no time at all for her to cross the room and throw her arms around him to hug him tightly.  Yuuta’s careful to hold his bag of goodies to the side so they don’t get crushed when he reciprocates the tight hug.
He hadn’t hugged her before he left for Africa.  He hadn’t hugged anyone, actually.  Just waved as he bid them goodbye.  Hugging her now feels like something he’d waited for for ages, and finally getting to hold her against him has his heart soaring.
“You’re finally home,” She’s smiling into his chest, and pulls away only so she can grin up at him, properly taking in his pretty eyes and longer hair.  She’s just about to comment on the change in style before she notices the bag in his hand, and focuses on it instead.  “Did you bring gifts?” She asks with a playful smirk.
“Uh- yeah, I mean, sorta,” He stammers, his face getting warmer than he would’ve liked as he opens the bag and glances inside, suddenly apprehensive about handing them to her.  “It’s not from Africa, but they are necessities,” He tells her.
(y/n) raises a brow curiously, before prompting him to show her what he brought.
Yuuta’s sheepish as he reaches in the bag and produces a family size package of lemon flavored oreos.  It seemed like a great idea when he’d picked them up, but now he feels anxiety twisting in stomach as he presents them to her.
“Lemon oreos!” (y/n’s) nothing short of delighted as she takes the package from his hands, already peeling back the plastic to snatch one and take a bite right away.  She hums as she finishes the cookie, her eyes twinkling with happiness as she seals the package again.  “You remembered, thank you.  We’ll definitely finish those tonight” She says with a laugh.
“Don’t worry, I brought my own snack, they’re all yours” He says softly.  She brightens even further at the prospect.
“You really know the way to a woman’s heart, Okkotsu” She teases.  
After months of getting teased over the phone, he finally gets to witness it first hand.  Her cheeks are pink and her eyes shift between his and other spots around the room bashfully.  He wonders if she was always so shy when she’d teased him before.
His smile softens as he reaches into the bag again, carefully holding the other gift as he pulls it from the bag.  (y/n’s) eyes widen and her lips part as she takes in the sight of the beautiful arrangement of flowers he was holding.  It was simple, a pretty bouquet of lilies, lily of the valley, to be specific, she recognized them as the same white flowers scattered around the courtyard.  Her eyes were locked on the bouquet as Yuuta picked around it a bit, making sure every flower was perfect and presentable.
“It’s not, uh, the most expensive bouquet in the world,” He mumbles anxiously once he deems the flowers pretty enough to hand to her.
She looks up at him as though silently asking if they were really for her, her surprise evident in the way she stared at him in soft surprise before she finally took the flowers.  Her movements are slow and so, so careful, not wanting to bend a single stem out of place.
“But, still, um,” With his hands free Yuuta begins to fiddle, scratching at the nape of his neck as he struggles to meet her gaze.  “Y’know, I just wanted to… give you flowers” 
A smile breaks out across her face as she leans close to them to take in a whiff, soothed by the gentle, clean scent that fills her nose.
“I love them,” She murmurs, still staring in awe at the pretty arrangement.  “Can I take a picture?” She asks, and he nods wordlessly.  He finally takes in a breath of air when she turns around to grab her phone from the bed, not having realized he’d been holding it since handing her the intimate gift.
What he doesn’t realize is she’s bounding back over to him with her phone in hand, the camera flipped around so she can take a selfie of her flowers with him very much in it.
“C’mon, smile!” She giggles as she turns her phone sideways, eyeing the image of him with his blushing face and wide eyes, obviously caught off guard.
She snaps the photo when he throws up a peace sign and gives the most relaxed smile he can, his eyes closed and his cheeks undeniably pink.  (y/n) admires it before tucking her phone back into her pocket and clutching the flowers close to her chest lovingly.
“Thank you so much,” She gives them one last affectionate glance before tucking them carefully into a jar on her desk- after she dumped all the pens in it onto her workspace without a second thought.  Yuuta almost laughed at how quickly she made the mess and left it in order for the bouquet to have a safe home.  Once she’s sure they’re safe and sound, she turns back to him again.
It’s funny how out of place he looks standing in her doorway.  Long legs and broad shoulders taking up more space in her room than she would’ve thought.  She’d almost forgotten how large Yuuta was.  Somehow, it made it funnier that he looked so lost.  Like he didn’t want to take a step, and didn’t know what to do with his hands.  She could tell he was trying his best to come across as comfortable as he could, but she could see the wince behind his smile, and his slowly shifting feet.  
He looks out of place now, but she likes having him here.  She likes that he smells like sandalwood, and something sweet like vanilla.  She likes that he’s still holding the paper bag that he’d brought her gift in, not wanting to drop it somewhere in her room like a piece of litter.  She likes that when their eyes meet he smiles, and crinkles form on his eyes that compliment his blushing face.
She likes everything about Yuuta, but right now, she likes that he was the first boy to ever bring her flowers most of all.
So despite her racing heart, she decides to tell him so.
“I’m glad you were the first guy to ever give me flowers” 
Yuuta’s smile drops slightly as his face softens with surprise, eyebrows raising higher when she steps even closer to him.
He’s holding his breath again when she leans onto the tips of her toes and pressing a quick kiss to his warm cheek.  The feeling of her lips brushing over his skin only makes it heat up more, and against his will he lets out a little gasp for air.  (y/n) giggles when she stands flat on her feet again, her nose slightly wrinkled at her amusement at how easily Yuuta flusters.
She’s starting to think to herself that she should test just how much she can fluster him while he’s here, when he’s suddenly the one taking her breath away.
He steps forward to close the distance between them again, dropping the paper bag so he can slide his hands under her jaw, tilting it upwards so he can lean down and kiss her with ease.  A gasp dies in the back of her throat just as his lips touch hers, the hesitation from her surprise only momentary.  
For a soft kiss, Yuuta radiates so much passion her knees feel weak, and her hands are firm as they press into his shoulders, desperate to keep herself upright.  Even his hands are gentle, their touch warm and featherlight against her face.
She longs to press impossibly closer and explore his every last dip and crevice, but for right now, everything is perfect.  His gentleness, his sweetness, him, she couldn’t have hoped for a more lovely first kiss.
Just as the kiss was, he pulls away slowly, forehead still touching hers.  A short sigh escapes him before his lips turn into a smile.  (y/n) watches as his mouth stretches and curls, her own face mirroring the expression, before her eyes flicker up to his to see he’s staring down at her.
“Sorry, I-” He shakes his head, trying to find just the right words to tell her how long he’d been thinking about doing that.  His mind is too foggy so he runs his mouth with abandon.  “I’ve just really wanted to do that” He murmurs.
(y/n) giggles, her face blooming with color at the blatant confession.  It had her heart going haywire even more after the kiss, and any hopes of being the one to fluster him goes out the window.  She’s putty in his hands and he must know it.
“Don’t be sorry,” She whispers back, shyly averting her gaze, not that it does her any favors, he’s still cradling her face and keeping her so close that it felt there was no shying away from him.  “I… I was hoping to talk to you, um, when you got back,” She says, the grin on her face betraying her as she tried to casually mention her feelings for him.  “About, y’know, hanging out more, ‘n stuff” 
Yuuta chuckles at her bashful nonchalance, nodding his head back at her with an excited gleam in his eyes.
“I’d like to hang out more and stuff,” He hums, dropping his hands from her face and nodding to where she’d set up the movie hours earlier.  “Should we start with watching your movie?” 
Excitement flashes in her eyes as she nods her head back at him, before taking his hand and tugging him over to the comfort of her bed.
“Settle in, your mind is about to be blown by literary perfection and cinematic masterpiece.  This is their love child” 
He chuckles, falling into the mattress with her and getting settled against the mountain of pillows at her headboard while she searches her blankets for the remote.  His chest is still vibrating with adrenaline, but as he sinks into a comfortable bed for the first time in months, he finds himself relaxing.
Despite his body feeling like it was the late afternoon, he feels as though he could go right to sleep.
It helps when (y/n) passes out first.  Her body slumps against his and she snores softly against his chest.  It’s such an amusing sight he can’t help but take a photo for her to wake up to in her messages.  He pauses the movie so that they can pick it up from where they left off tomorrow, and then settles deeper into the cozy bed.
The comfort he felt with every text received from her, every phone call to keep him company in the last few months of being away and being alone, it seems almost personified now.  Resting here beside her, simply sharing the same space, Yuuta feels the same wave of relief now.  He can’t help but smile to himself as he settles under the covers, being careful to not disturb her peaceful slumber.
He’s asleep in a matter of minutes.  The warmth of her body so close and the plush mattress working together to put his mind at such ease he didn’t even notice he was tired until he was closing his eyes and drifting off.
It was good to be home.
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
[ fuck it, i love you // fuck it, i love you // fuck it, i love you // i really do ]
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
xoxo ~ jordie
a/n: gojo pays the international phone bills obviously so don't be commenting on it
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