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#god. how nice it must be not to have to deal with this
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take the upper hand | carmen berzatto x reader
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push the reset button we're becomin' something new
description: carmen berzatto is stubborn and anxious and doesn't always know how to express himself. your best friend drags you to a party that carmen knows you'll be at and he shows up to make amends and thank god he does because he saves you from dealing with some drunk asshole.
content warnings: angsty!! drinking/party scene, shitty drunk guy w/ a shitty guy mentality!!, reader gets hit on with one night stand suggestion tones, carmen's ready to swing, mentions of anxiety and jealousy. mentions of reader drinking. kissing, mentions of intimacy related scratches, some light smut references.
author notes: my first time posting something that isn't just smut!! also something that no one but me has read!! normally i always get a proof read, not today. but this idea has been rattling around in my ole noggin' for a minute now so here we are. reminder!! you are responsible for your own media consumption!! if this won't be your jam then there's tons of other fics in the sea (: ily thank you!
even if it's handcuffed i'm leavin' here with you
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The last place you wanted to be tonight was some house party in Wicker Park. With Pitbull, of all artists, playing so loud in the basement that the floor upstairs was still vibrating. Everything was sticky and stinky and you did not wanna be here.
But your best friend was hooked on this guy from her gym. 
It didn’t help that Carmy recognized his name from high school and mumbled out some remark about, “Oh yeah, no Dave’s a pretty solid guy.” She was convinced it was a sign that they were meant to be. Not to mention she found his mom’s Facebook and a post from two years ago that included his birth time. The whole train ride over you listened to how compatible the two of them were and how much she loved that he was a Scorpio rising. 
She had begged you to come to this God forsaken party and help put in a good word for her. Something had her convinced that if you mentioned just how well you were getting to know Carmen to this Dave guy that he would hold your opinion of her in higher regards.
And sure, maybe there was a part of you that hoped Carmen would be here even while the two of you were feuding. He knew it was coming up but couldn’t promise he’d be off in time - Something you got quite used to. It normally didn’t bother you that he had so many late nights at the resturant but when it rains, it pours and now you’re stuck sitting next to the sink littered cups filled with what can only be best described as some sort of horrific finance bro jungle juice. A mix of 1942 and fresh pressed juice. 
Your nose wrinkles up at the smell but you’re quickly refocused at the booming sounds of Ethan Callaghan stumbling through the back door. Another man Carmy knew from high school but didn’t like as much. Something about always being too in-your-face. Though you were pretty sure he was close with the guy your best friend was currently hooking up with in some random bedroom down the hall. 
The second his eyes land on you there’s a lopsided smile being thrown your way as he tries to fluff his hair and stand up as straight as possible. He’s stumbling into the kitchen with a full drink in hand, droning on and on about how he was ‘just so jealous’ that your friend went into that bedroom earlier. How nice it must be to not end the night alone. No pleasantries at all, just right into the whole lonely and horny act that was grossing you out. 
No one particularly knew you and Carmy were together yet - He wasn’t the type who wanted to label right away and potentially mess things up and you weren’t the type to out your dating status to random drunken men either. Besides, you weren’t so sure that ‘I have a boyfriend’ would put an end to this pitiful man’s sob story. 
As if, on queue and manifested right out of thin air, Carmen rounds the corner and takes a second to soak in the sight in front of him. You’re sitting there with your eyes trained on the water bottle in your hands. Ethan’s yapping away about how pretty you are and how big his apartment is. An excellent view in Streeterville that you’d love to see with the best brunch place in town two blocks away blah, blah, blah. Your shoulders are hunched over, body leaning away from Ethan as he stands at the window watching his reflecting in the window above the sink. 
“Hey - Been looking for you.”
Carmen.
Your head whips around to the sight of his voice instantly. There’s a pang in your chest at the sight of him standing in front of you after you two had been apart for these last few days. He looked tired. Wearing a sweater he knows you love because he wants to look nice for you. God you wanted to run over and crash yourself against his chest. Screw the petty fight. Instead you’re stuck giving him a very pointed look, hoping he takes the hint to save you. 
He’d be lying if there wasn’t a split second where Carmen feared you were actually going to go home with this loser until he saw the panic and annoyance written across your face. Ethan’s laughing at the sight of him. “Hey, Dude. Think we’re all good here, yeah?” Oh he hates this dick. 
There’s a thick level of tension in the room as Carmen squares up his shoulders and steps further into the room. His eyes are trained on Ethan who clearly wasn’t expecting much of a fight out of Carmy. He stops when he’s standing between your knees, putting himself between the two of you. Something about the way he instantly turned possessive turned up a feeling deep in your stomach no matter how annoyed you still were. 
“Pretty sure someone out back was looking for you, Dude. It doesn’t seem like anyone in here wants you around. Now either you’re too fucking dense to realize it or you don’t care that you’re not wanted, but I’m here to let you know. So I suggest running out back and getting the fuck out of our hair.” 
Ethan’s clearly entertained while looking between the two of you, a playful glint in his eye. You’re silently begging him to walk away and find yourself bringing a hand up to put on the small of Carmen’s back. While you’ve never seen him actually fight, you’ve seen many scraps between him and Richie. Heard stories of him growing up and heard the Bachelor party story. 
You’re fine not having your own fight stories to tell. 
T-Pain is now blasting in the background and the contrast of people laughing and singing downstairs versus the situation you’ve found yourself in is making your head spin. The whole time your best friend is clueless and wrapped up in Mr. Scorpio Rising. She owes you big time. Like you’ve secured friend of the year already and she needs to throw a parade in your honor after going through this.
Ethan’s finally putting his hands up in the air, that shit eating grin still plastered across his features. “My bad, my bad. Didn’t know you were already claimed.” Claimed. Gross. Your fingers press into Carmy’s back, a silent plea to beg him not to escalate this even more. He’s laughing at the sight of the two of you before snagging a half finished bottle of vodka off the counter and backing up towards the back door. 
Carmen steps out from between your legs and follows Ethan to ensure he leaves. Shoulders pushed back, chest puffed out. You’d find the sight entertaining if you still weren’t so on edge. Carmen Berzatto, your protector. 
And sure, he’s probably just making this asshole someone else’s problem for the night but he doesn’t care. The main priority is getting you away from him and getting you safe. 
You catch the sight of his curls out of the corner of your eye when Carmen returns and instantly steel your spine. The shift in the air now that Ethan is gone was thick. He was a distraction from the distance between you two but now you’re preparing yourself for another argument when really you had no energy left to give it. There was a small worry that he’d think you gave Ethan any inclination that you were interested. Even though you two had been tense, there was never anyone else but you but him. Even if you’re too stubborn to drop that information just yet.
Carmen’s quiet. His heavy boots against the floor make your heart beat faster. Everyone had scattered out of the kitchen when he walked Ethan out of there but not before giving you two a nervous glance as they went. Some probably disappointed there wasn’t a fight if we’re being honest.
“Hey.” 
You don’t dignify him with a response. Crossing your arms over your chest and taking a sudden interest in the magnets that littered this guy’s fridge. Toying with the idea of putting the ‘Area 51 is for Lovers!’ magnet in your pocket. You figured you deserved something for going through this hell of a night. 
He stops himself once he’s reached your side, the silence awkward and thick in the air. Carmy’s hand is on your knee now, his touch not as firm as you’re used to. The whiplash of emotions once again not helping either of you know just quite where you stand. 
“M’still mad at you.” 
He winces but he knew it was coming. 
The two of you wallow in silence. Carmy’s just about to finally speak but someone stumbles in on the hunt for vodka, takes one look at the annoyance on your boyfriend’s face, before quickly muttering they’ll find it somewhere else. 
And you still won’t look at him. 
He’s grabbing at your waist now, pulling you from the counter and against his chest. You wanna protest but there’s still a buzz going through your body that makes it hard to think quick enough to push back. Plus God does he feel warm and smell so good.
Carmy’s walking backwards towards the fridge, waiting until his back is flush against it to slide down. Bringing down those magnets you wouldn’t stop staring at, family photos, whatever was in his way came with the two of you. He’s tugging you until you’re straddling his waist while he brings his knees up to support you. Grabbing a hold of your face, finally making you look at him and fuck he looks like shit close up. Dark circles, hair a little messier than he’d normally allow, a bit of fear deep in his eyes. 
“You gotta tell me how to fix this.” It’s all unfamiliar territory for him. There wasn’t exactly a good example set for him growing up to say the least. 
Four days ago Carmen watched as the barista at some coffee shop you wanted to go to flirted with you. That shit already annoyed him, but he tried to bite his tongue. Then your latte came out with a heart in the foam and you kept explaining that’s just how they all come out but he was jealous and possessive and didn’t know how to communicate that so instead the two of you fought in the car for an hour. It was so stupid and he’s been kicking himself in the ass ever since. 
The past four days you refused to talk to him and had done a good job at dodging the situation. Normally you two fight, you fuck, and then you pretend everything’s okay. The cycle was getting old and wearing you down.
Until now. 
You give a heavy sigh, reaching out to toy with the bottom hem of his shirt. Carmy really did look like it had been going through it so you’re throwing him a small bone. “Maybe not making me sit on a sticky floor would be a good start.” He’s muttering out this small laugh, thankful to hear anything coming out of your mouth let alone a joke, the sound vibrating against your fingertips and you hate how much it fills your heart. 
He waits for the rest. The other shoe to fall. Every ounce of laughter is gone when you finally collect yourself enough for - “Do you think we’re good together, Carmen?” You can feel him stiffen under you, his hands gripping at your waist because he needs something to give him some stability. 
A beat goes by. “I think you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” Another beat, this time it’s Carmy who refuses to look at you. Eyes downcast and trained on your lap. “But I’m not sure I’m good for you.” You weren’t expecting that. 
Once again silence falls between the two of you, still toying with the hem of his shirt before you lean in to bury your face in the crook of his neck. Taking a deep breath that’s filled with his cologne, faint smoke, and just Carmen that you’ve grown to crave. “You just gotta learn to trust me, Carmen. Outta everyone in this world, I’m the main one who never wants to hurt you. Especially for some barista with a fuckin’ comb over.” 
You hoped he would laugh again, but the sound never comes. Instead you feel his arms go tight around your body, his knees coming up a bit more which makes you fully lean into his chest. He’s clinging to you, wishing so badly he knew what to say (or could let himself) say what he knows he needs to. Instead he’s just pressing a kiss ​​to your head, sighing into your hair. 
“I wanna be better for you. Just don’t know how.” 
The two of you cling to each other and fight to get as close as possible. The distance apart these past four days has left the both of you physically aching for one another. It’s been hours, days of a tense heart and checking phones for texts neither of you knew how to send. You press a kiss against his neck, leaning back just enough to grab his face in your hands and stroke your thumbs over his cheeks. 
“It’s scary for me too, y’know? This, us. You’re not alone in being scared but lashing out at me isn’t gonna solve anything. I’m not going anywhere, Carmy.” You take the first step in mending the relationship by leaning in to press a gentle kiss to his lips. There’s a hand coming up to cup the back of your neck, holding you in place as if he’s still scared you’re going to change your mind and run off before he can realize it’s happening. 
He’s letting you take the lead and only deepening the kiss once he feels your hands slide under his shirt. Fingers trailing along the toned skin while Carmey licks your bottom lip. Your hands glide around his back where you’re able to trace over healing scratches left on the skin from your last night together. 
Your lips part and you take the lead once again, letting your tongue slide along his and giving a low moan into his mouth as you taste him. There’s the lingering taste of cigarettes mixed with black coffee and Carmen. Once again indescribable and simply him. His grip on you tightens up in response and you know if you’re not careful then you’ll end up disheveled and tangled up in the backseat of his car or bent over one of the sinks in a disgusting bathroom. Both options you refuse to pick over getting home and letting him properly make this up to you. 
Dragging your nails along the healing marks, Carmen starts to lose track of his kissing. His grip on your neck tightening a bit more, hips rocking up towards you against his better judgement. The motion’s getting needy and sloppy and you have to pull away much to both of your disappointment. 
Shaking your head and bringing your hands up to rest flush against his warm chest. “You’re not gonna fuck me on this nasty floor. I deserve better than this.” Which, of course you do. He just gets carried up when he’s wrapped up in you. He’s nodding in agreement but can’t stop himself from licking his own lips to chase the sensation of you.
He’s looking over your features, his heart picking up pace even more than he thought was possible anymore. “Think you’re meant to be my forever, y’know? Sometimes I look at you and it scares the shit out of me because I look ahead and-... It’s you. Kids sitting at a table in the restaurants doing homework. A honeymoon overseas where I get to drag you around different pasty shops and restaurants and we’ll find random art in flea markets to hang when we get home. Take photos that end up framed. It’s you. Always.” 
Now how are you supposed to be mad when he’s this open and honest. Unpacking a future you had thought only you considered so far. You hope this behavior sticks. It’s not easy for either of you, but it’s worth fighting through the learning curve. “Kids, huh? Multiple? They’ll be your harshest critics, Carmy. I dunno if you can handle their reviews quite yet.” He’s chuckling, shaking his head with a lazy smile. “No, not yet. But one day.” The promise of more between you finally putting an end to this discussion for now. You make a mental note to remember this moment when the two of you bicker in the future - No matter what there’s always more on the road ahead of you. 
Which makes you smile too. Wrapping your arms around his neck. “One day.” You reward him with one more kiss, knowing that’s all the two of you can risk before you end up sprawled out on this floor. 
Carmy’s desperate to keep the lightened mood. He’s giving it a moment for both of you to calm back down from kissing before playfully scrunching up his face. “God you taste like shitty tequila.” It works. You’re laughing and swatting your hand against his chest, feeling a bit lighter than you did when you walked into this place. “Carmen Berzatto be nice to me!” 
He’s beaming at you now. Bright, happy. 
It’s a stark difference from the funk you’d both been stuck in since this fight started. The sight makes your heart swell and you bring a hand up to push some curls back off of his forehead. Leaning in to press a kiss against the tip of his nose. 
“Lemme take you home, yeah? Get you some food on the way? Gotta make sure someone so pretty doesn’t wake up with a hangover.” He loves taking care of you in anyway you'll let him.
You nod and carefully start to shuffle off of his lap. Getting yourself to your feet before reaching down to help tug Carmen up to his feet. You catch as he adjusts himself in his pants, a flush blooming along his cheeks and down his neck. Stepping back in until you’re chest to chest with him, you press a line of kisses along his jaw. Rough stubble going away once you find his lips yet again. You hum against his mouth, bringing your hand up to cup his cheek. “You gotta shave in the morning, Carmy.” He’s nodding instantly, reaching his hand down into his pocket to fish out the car keys. 
There’s a notification lighting up your phone - Perfect timing. A simple “Gonna spend the night ;)” text from your best friend. You can’t help but to grin and roll your eyes, turning the phone around so Carmen can see the notification too. He’s laughing while sliding a hand into your back pocket and starting to lead the two of you out of the kitchen. 
“Yeah, remind me to tell Dave that his friend fuckin’ sucks.” 
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kingofthering · 2 days
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Cat Marc AU. Valentino recalling the first time he saw Marc shift back in Laguna Seca, 2013.
Finding a cat hiding under his bed had been surprising and a little mind blowing. Watching said cat turn into a very naked Marc had almost given Valentino a heart attack.
Then, seating with his arms hugging his knees and his back against the head of the bed while Valentino was seating at the bottom of said bed, Marc had explained.
He had told Valentino about the first time he shifted when he was a kid, how it scared both him and his parents. He told Valentino about his father finding some doctor who knew about this and kind of specialized in people who could shift like Marc. They had to fly to Ireland to meet him. Marc wasn’t unique but the phenomenon wasn’t that widely spread either.
Marc had been taught that his unwanted shifts were triggered when he had too many emotions to deal with at once (back when he was a kid, it wasn’t the stress so much as the excitement about racing, and some excess adrenaline). Eventually, Marc had learned how to control his shifts and he had told Valentino that he hadn’t had an involuntary one in years before that morning.
That last part had made Valentino pause. “Wait, did I cause you to involuntarily shift?”
Valentino still remembers the way Marc had blushed, hugging himself tighter, his eyes leaving Valentino for an instant before he could answer. “Waking up next to you did.” 
And Valentino’s first reaction had been to think that Marc regretted having sex with him so much that it got him upset enough to shift; which Marc must have read on his face because he’d been quick to correct the situation. “Not because I didn’t want to be here. God, I’ve been dreaming about this for far too long. I just— I know you’re probably going to want to pretend like nothing happened and I should have left when I woke up to leave you alone but you had your arm around me and it felt nice and then I started overthinking everything and this happened and there was no way for me to get out of here in cat form and I have my phone and the key to my room in my pants and—”
Valentino hadn’t let him finish. He’d scouted forward until he could lay one hand on Marc’s bare ankle, his thumb rubbing at the bone there. “Marc, you’re fine.” And it hadn’t addressed any of Marc’s concerns and Valentino hadn’t even known, back then, how he wanted to go about all this but asking Marc if he wanted to grab a shower had felt like the right thing to do and so had been adding “Want me to join you?” when Marc had nodded in answer.
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jq37 · 3 days
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Man, Gorgug HUMILIATED that worm. Everybody was on their A+++ game. Almost all of them solo'd at least one of the big monsters. And extra credit to all the Bad Kids for their post-battle paranoia. Riz must have been quietly proud of them the whole time.
Now for next week, we'll finally get our steaming lore-dump. The most important one for me being what the eff is Kipperlily's damage? This apparently started in Freshman Year, but outside of the Prompocalypse, the most publicly known things the Bad Kids did that year were killing Daybreak (which is what put them on the social map at least among the freshmen) and the brawl against Aelwyn and her elementals. The only other thing from that year that might have a longshot of being connected is that maybe she knew one of the members of Johnny Spells' gang and is pissed they got killed.
From a comedic standpoint, her being just an immature hater who can't stand that she and her clique aren't the top dogs of their class, makes the most sense. Penelope Everpetal destroyed her entire life, betrayed everyone who loved her and damned her soul to hell, for about a minute of being prom queen and then getting killed. So it's not impossible that KL and the Grinder's whole deal is something super petty. But that feels too easy, I dunno. Anyway, a good story should keep you guessing and this is a good story. Let's see if they can wrap this up in the five episodes they've got left.
They really all showed how proficient they've gotten in battle! From damage to strats to buffing each other. It was a real exercise in hyper-competency which I love. I know nail biters are more narratively tense and stuff but sometimes it's nice to watch characters you love just absolutely wreck house.
Kipperlilly does really seem like the kind of person who would Penelope style just go full Sara Berry and start killing people for some petty as reason like she wants to be Rogue Valedictorian, but I don't think it would be the strongest move narratively to have that happen a second time, just with a nerd instead of a popular girl. It could def happen because, like I said, she has the personality for it and there's the god side of things to add more depth to the story if the RG stuff is too petty on its own. But my current guess is that whatever petty wants she has was the spark but there's more going on. Like you said, hopefully we'll find out soon.
(One last thing: I feel very uneasy that we keep hearing about this Devil's Honey but we don't know what it's being used for. Like, this stuff lets you lie to gods. How can we trust anything fully until that's sorted?)
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verahella · 2 months
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— FIRST STEPS
“here, here, boy.”
you stifle a laugh, “he’s not a dog, satoru.”
“fetch.” he continues, smile widening when you burst into snickers.
your baby isn’t sure what his mom is laughing at but he joins in, smacking his hands on the floor as he gurgles along happily. he stumbles a little but his eyes stay firmly fixed on the lollipop satoru is waving around in his face.
“c’mon, baby. show your mom who’s the best and your favourite parent in the world.”
you scoff, “that’s not fair. you’re bribing him.”
his eyes don’t stray from your child as he replies, “it builds character. you gotta teach them young.”
“i will never understand how he became a dad.” megumi’s voice mutters through the phone.
“well, you see megumi-chan, when a man and a woman love each very much—”
you smack away gojo’s peeping head from the camera and focus it back on your son. he claps as he says something nonsensical, to which gojo nods along encouragingly, shoving the lollipop even closer and twirling it in the air.
megumi leans in closer to the screen, watching the act of corruption unfold on facetime, “i can’t believe he’s already taking his first steps.”
you smile, “that’s the thing with kids, megumi. they grow up too fast and right under your nose, yet you never know it. it just hits you like a truck and you’ve gotta deal with it.”
“sensei seems to be doing fine though.”
“don’t let his act fool you. he whines every night about how he’s getting old and soon his son will throw him in an old age home and—”
“that was a confidential late night conversation!” he grumbles, crossing his arms as the camera faces towards him. “besides, i did well with you, didn’t i?”
you catch a glimpse of megumi’s pink face before he mumbles something about kidnapping and hangs up. a smile blooms on your lips and you rest your hand on his shoulder, “you really did well.”
“nice try but that doesn’t mean i’m gonna let you have this one.” he gestures to the toddler spinning around himself now to catch the tail on his dinosaur onesie. a strand of white hair peaks through his hood and as his blue eyes catch yours, you can’t help but be reminded of the man beside you.
his hair, your nose. his eyes, your intelligence. his lips, your words.
holding a thousand features of you and gojo, proof of your love in flesh and blood, your son stands in front you with drool dripping down his chin.
a baffled expression takes over his face at his parents and their audacity to not include him in a group hug and he babbles angrily, waddling towards you while gojo snaps about a billion pictures from all angles, competition long forgotten as he coos at his pride and joy.
a tiny pair of arms hug your legs and you lift up your son, grinning. it’s bittersweet and maybe you’re overreacting for him just ‘walking’, but you can’t help but want to capture this moment and let it stay like this forever.
of course, all good things must come to an end.
gojo rests his chin on your shoulder, pulling down his blindfold, “now that he can walk, can we go bungee jumping?”
“what? satoru, no.”
“satoru yes.”
you get interrupted by a lollipop into your mouth and gojo kidnapping your son and teleporting to god knows where.
the couch will be warm tonight.
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ashwhowrites · 1 year
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Can you please write something where Chrissy continuously tries flirting with Eddie just because she doesn’t really like you (which she makes known every time you’re even in her general area) and thinks she’d be a better match for Eddie. Fortunately in the end, Eddie chooses you because you’re the love of his life and Chrissy is just some girl he liked in high school
Please please please?
You have asked with a lot of "please" so I will. I hope this is what you were looking for. I did tweak it a little where Eddie never liked Chrissy in the first place, so I'm sorry about that change
Never proofread
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~~~
Y/N had a crush on Eddie Munson ever since she first saw him. She was a grade below him so they never had classes together. She'd watch him during lunch, drooling over his sweet eyes, soft nose, and kissable lips. She had a crush on him since last year when she accidentally walked into hellfire. She was searching for her class when she walked into the wrong room. Her eyes connected with his. He looked at her confused as she looked lost. He directed her to the right class but he never left her mind after that.
And now? She was part of hellfire, all for the purpose of the leader. She took the time to learn how to play and create her character. That doesn't mean she knew what she was doing. When she first joined she lied and said she's played countless times, but once he asked what her class and statistics were, it was clear she had no idea of an answer.
For the past few months, Eddie has been tutoring her on how to play. He said she couldn't be part of Hellfire until after she learned some more. Which she was fine with, alone time with Eddie standing behind her as he leaned down to point things out? God, she was in heaven.
The more she spent time with him the more she grew confident in flirting. She liked him, and he seemed to enjoy having her around. From what she has heard, Eddie doesn't care to talk with "sheep." And he didn't accept new people in Hellfire, but she must have been different. He must have liked something about her.
She'd scoot closer, always resting her hand on his thigh. Giggling at all his jokes and softly smacking his arm. She'd compliment his rings, running her fingers around his hands, slipping off his ring, and putting it on herself.
Their DND dates turned into real dates, sitting in his van as they shared a milkshake. Talking about everything other than DND. Some of the dates ended in making out.
Practically dating at this point, just not official, Y/N felt herself growing irritated at Chrissy's obvious advances toward Eddie. It was like she appeared out of nowhere. Squeezing herself in the way of her and Eddie.
Y/N hated to admit it, but it made her jealous and insecure. Chrissy was a cheerleader, popular, and knew how to have guys wrapped around her finger. And Y/N was just a girl a grade below that learned to play DND to impress her crush.
Eddie Munson had a cheerleader flirting with him, what kind of chance did Y/N even have.
Since Y/N was a member, she got to join the Hellfire lunch table. She sat next to Eddie, always sharing her lunch since Eddie only packed a snack and his drugs for his deals. Between lunch, hellfire, their DND study sessions, and small dates in his van, they were never too far apart. But Chrissy began to change that.
~~~
Eddie had his arm thrown over Y/N's shoulder as he walked them to his van. Hellfire ended late and he offered to bring her home. They were talking about the campaign as they walked through the parking lot. Only to be stopped when Chrissy bounced in front of them.
Chrissy's blue eyes stayed on Eddie and Eddie only. Not acknowledging Y/N's presence at all.
"Thank gosh I caught you, Eds, could you help me with my car? It's not starting and I really need to get home." A pout on her lips as she asked.
"oh yeah, of course." Eddie smiled. Eddie was a nice guy, no matter what people thought.
Chrissy smiled and ran off to her car, Eddie took his arm off of Y/N's shoulder and handed her his keys.
"Okay to wait for me in the van, gorgeous?" He winked as the keys landed in her hand. Y/N hated that the nickname and wink made her whole body burn.
"I'm okay to wait, Eds" a little more aggressive with the nickname than she hoped. Quickly walking to his van, praying he didn't hear the change in her voice.
Eddie watched her to make sure she made it into the van, once she shut the door, he turned and made his way to Chrissy.
Y/N hated but also was happy she could see them from his van. Her eyes burning as she watched Chrissy flirt with him the whole time. She couldn't make out words, but she could read body language. Chrissy was facing Eddie completely, leaning in close to him as he talked, probably about the car. Chrissy was twirling her hair, smiling the whole time, and never once looking away from him.
Once she tried her car and it began to run, she jumped out and threw herself in his arms. He looked caught off guard but hugged her back. Y/N hated the twisting in her gut.
Then she watched as Chrissy leaned up and kissed Eddie's cheek. Y/N decided that was enough for her eyes to see. Turning her attention to her backpack, pulling out her notebook and going over today's campaign in her head. Her eyes caught sight of the random doodles Eddie drew as they played. Her attention shifted when the driver side door opened and slammed shut.
Y/N greeted Eddie's arrival and put away her notebook. Her eyes catching as Eddie placed a piece of paper in his cup holder. Black ink written with a phone number and heart. Y/N felt her heart sink.
"I see you got the cheerleaders phone number? That's quite big." Y/N said, clenching her jaw as she tried not to sound incredibly jealous.
Eddie shrugged it off, starting to pull out of the parking lot as he said, "Just in case she has car troubles again, she wanted me to recognize her number."
But Y/N knew that was not the reason Chrissy gave Eddie her phone number.
"Oh.... car troubles." She mumbled to herself.
~~~
And she was right. Over the past few days, Chrissy flirted more with Eddie, still ignoring Y/N's existence.
Y/N was on Eddie's lap, his hands holding her hips as she rocked against him. Her tongue twirled with his as they panted into each other. Eddie moaned at the taste of her tongue, moving her hips faster against his growing bulge.
His lips began to move down her neck when his phone started ringing. He pulled away with an apologetic smile, lifting her off of his lap and setting her on the cushion next to her.
She cleaned off her lips and watched as he fixed his jeans and walked towards the phone.
"Chrissy? Hey."
Y/N could feel any sort of good mood she had just vanished. The urge to roll her eyes grew stronger with every minute.
Eddie wrapped up the call and returned to Y/N's side. Smirking as he went to grab her hips again when she shuffled out of his reach. He eyed her closely.
"What's up?" He asked, resting his hand on her thigh.
"So I see she just calls whenever now" Y/N huffed out, she wanted to sound calm, but she was failing. She could practically watch the wheels turn in his head.
"Um yeah, sometimes about random stuff. Is that upsetting you?" He asked, and he was genuinely asking. She could tell he wasn't teasing or mocking her. But it made her feel stupid to even answer. What would she say? Oh yes, you taking the pretty cheerleader's phone number is making me jealous.
"Nope, I'm fine." She brushed it off
"You sure? You don't seem fine." He tried, and that was a mistake.
Eddie watched as she jumped off the couch.
"My god! I said I was fine. I don't care that Chrissy flirts with you, rubs your arm during school, and giggles at your jokes at a lunch table she's not even supposed to be part of. I don't care that she calls you while we are in the middle of making out. I don't fucking care!" She snapped, slamming the door on her way out.
Eddie was quick to race after her. She sat on the ground, picking at the grass as he walked down his trailer's steps.
"Didn't make it too far." He tried to joke, but all she did was shrug.
"I realized you were my ride." She mumbled to herself.
"How about we talk about what just happened, and then I can take you home." He offered, sitting next to her.
"Nothing to talk about. I said I was fine." She said, turning to him with what she hoped was a convincing smile.
"Okay well even if you are fine, I would still like to talk about it. We were having a good time before Chrissy called and after that, you stormed out." Eddie explained
"Sorry that I don't feel like making out after precious Chrissy called." Y/N snapped.
"See! That right there. You are not fine. Chrissy upsets you....and it's because she flirts with me?" Eddie questioned.
"Look, I know it is stupid so can we just forget it? " Y/N sighed. She just wanted to go home and forget about this whole conversation.
"I never said it was stupid." He said softly, grabbing her hand that was yanking the grass and holding it in his lap.
"I just got jealous." She finally confessed
"Why?"
With that question, she felt like she could have smacked him.
"Why? Jesus Eddie, do you even pay attention? I fucking like you, I joined Hellfire to spend time with you. And we started getting closer and then Chrissy showed up with her perfect eyes, perfect smile, and perfect everything and just swept herself on in. How am I supposed to compete with that?" She rushed out, and the grip on his hand grew tight.
"Who said you had to compete with her?" Eddie questioned her, a teasing smile on his face.
She scoffed and shook her head, "Come on Eddie, it is between an average girl and a cheerleader. It's obvious who you will pick."
"I don't think I made it obvious enough, otherwise we wouldn't have to have this conversation."
"What?" Now she was confused.
"There is no competition, there is no Chrissy and I. You are wrong about everything. It's not between an average girl and a cheerleader. It's my girl and my girl only. I like you. I broke every rule I set about Hellfire just to let you join. I don't notice her, I never did and I never will. But I've always noticed you and I always will. If you so desperately want me to pick between my girl and just a cheerleader, I pick you." He spoke softly, practically whispering at the end of his speech. His hand cupped her jaw as he tilted her head to look at him.
She wasn't sure what to say so she didn't try. Just reaching up to press her lips against his.
After a few minutes, Eddie pulled away. "Will you be my girlfriend? Let me show you it's just you and you only."
"Yes," she whispered and pressed her lips against his again.
Maybe the competition was in her head all along, either way, she was in Eddie's arms and that's where she wanted to be.
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satorusugurugurl · 25 days
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My Wedding Date is an Escort!
Summary: When invited to your best friend's wedding, you panic. One of the groomsmen, Toji Fushiguro, is your ex-fiancè. Not wanting to deal with probing questions and the embarrassment of being single, your friend Haibara recommends using an Escort! Taking a leap of faith, you book one, the hottest one. Gojo Satoru is hot, sweet, and funny! The package deal! Men and Women pay thousands to go on a date with him (even more, which he doesn't do often). So when your request comes in, the desperation and pleading tone of your voice. Gojo’s heartthrobs, even more so when you tell him you don't want to have sex.
Pairing: Escort!Gojo x FAB Reader
Word Count: 3,882
Warning: Mentions of depression, anxiety, language, steamy kisses, pillow walls
A/N: Ah yes, trauma dumping before things get super spicy!!! Love the communication, it’s giving this could be a great relationship but it’s complicated. If you want to be included in the tag list, you MUST have your age in your bio PLEASE!!! Thank you!!
Part One Part Three Part Four Part Five
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Your breathless words had the world crashing down around Satoru as he stared at your flushed face. His eyes widened as he released you, his own heart hammering in his chest. He had never lost control like that before! But there was this pull in his chest, one that screamed that he needed to protect you from the walking douchebag with black hair away from his; no, what the fuck? Not his girl, his client! 
“Holy fuck, I'm sorry! Shit, uhm, I shouldn't have done that.” Satoru grumbled, scrubbing his hands down his face. “I’m sorry.”
Your fingers trailed slowly over your lips. They were still tingling. “No, it's okay. I almost blew our cover.” Satoru slowly dragged his hands down his face, his eyes transfixed on you as you spoke. “That was all part of the act. If you didn't do that, it wouldn't have looked as convincing.”  Satoru visibly seemed to relax, shoulders slumping as he sighed.
“Thank fuck.” 
“It was just weird.” 
“I'm sorry?”A white eyebrow cocked up at your words. “Me kissing you was weird? Was it bad?” 
Your face flushed more, the heat spreading across your cheeks before setting over your chest. “Oh god, that came out wrong!” Your hands shot up in defense. “I-I didn't mean like that, Satoru! I just—I haven't kissed anyone in over a year and a half. So I guess I just—yeah, I’m rusty.”
“No,” you jerked your head up, “no, it was nice.” Stunning blue eyes softened, making you swallow hard. He thought it was nice. He is the hottest man on the planet, and ESCORT thought kissing you was nice.
What the fuck was this life?
Snapping out of the trance Satoru had you in; you cleared your throat. “I-I think I’m gonna take a s-shower!” You tossed the extra pillow to the futon on the floor. “Oh, and uhm, that kiss was nice for me too.” You turned, bolting for the bathroom before slamming the door. 
You slowly slid down it, sitting on the ground as you touched your lips. Satoru had such soft lips. It felt really good being kissed like you were wanted. No, no, it was an act! It's all an act. An act that had Satoru pacing the floor as he ran his hand through his hair.
It was only once he heard the shower running that he sat on the ground. What the fuck was that?! His pale skin was almost red as he tugged at white tufts of hair. He never got flustered with clients before! Maybe he was going insane. He must be because his mind keeps replaying the kiss repeatedly. 
The way you stiffened, how your hands gripped him so tight as he kissed you like he had never kissed a client before. Satoru slapped both his cheeks before shaking his head. That breathtaking kiss was nothing more than him doing his job. He was looking out for you as a client. Yeah, that was it. That asshole of a guy was the reason his heart was still racing as he thought of you and your lips.
By some miracle, both of you managed to pull your thoughts away from the kiss. You showered before switching with Satoru. He finally came out ten minutes later, grinning as he witnessed you placing the four extra pillows down the middle of the futon. You fluffed, pushed, and sat back to assess your constriction before repeating the process repeatedly until Satoru barked out a laugh from behind.
“Quit the impressive wall you’ve built.” Looking over your shoulder, you watched Satoru pull a tank top over his head. He slowly pulled it down over chiseled abs that had to have been crafted by a Renaissance artisan. Because there was no way those were real. “I’ve never had a client do that before.”
”Please don’t take it personally.” You whispered under your breath before fluffing another pillow. “It makes me feel a bit better; I haven’t shared a bed with anyone in a while.”
“Hey, no worries, whatever makes you feel comfortable, you keep doing it.”
God, why was he so nice? Sure, you paid him the big bucks to pretend to be your boyfriend. But that didn’t mean he had to be so understanding and kind regarding your antics. If anything, you would have assumed your pillow wall would have irritated anyone. You know for a fact that Toji would have hated it.
His kind, understanding patience had you transfixed on his movements as you both settled into bed. You were on your side, facing him as he stared at the ceiling, his hands resting behind his head. The silence wasn’t at all awkward. It was comforting in a way. You didn’t have to force yourselves to make dreadful small talk; you could enjoy the silence. 
The silence, however, had questions eating away at your insides. “Satoru?” Your voice mingled with chirping crickets and the warm spring breeze outside. You waited until his head turned in your direction before you continued. “Would it be okay if I asked you a question?” His face softened as he nodded his head.
”Of course.” 
“Why did you become an escort?”
Satoru chuckled, rolling onto his side so you both faced each other. “I think I’ve answered that question about a million times, so it’s easy.” His arm snaked around one of the pillows between you, hugging it to his chest. “I come from a pretty influential clan. It’s all about power, money, and success with them, and being an only child, they expected a lot from me.” His eyes rolled. “The old geezers kept going about when I would get married and have my own kids. And I didn't want anyone else feeling that way.” A cunning smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. “So, I became an escort to help people.” He snickered, hugging the pillow tighter. “Plus, I get to annoy those controlling old farts. So it’s a win-win for me. But I still handle my family affairs; being an escort is like my second job.” His words were genuine, and they had you smiling.
”That’s actually really sweet.” You shifted, inching just a bit closer to him. “You seem like a genuinely nice guy, doing stuff like this for strangers.” You giggled nervously, shaking your head. “That speaks volumes; I know you’re a nice guy, but I don’t know a thing about you.”
”I’ll tell you anything you want to know. Honestly.”
“Really?”
“Really.” 
“Okay, so do you like sleeping with your clients? Or has sex lost its spark?” You watched him curiously.
He shrugged a shoulder, smirking. “Sex is still good when it's with a good partner. But I honestly don't sleep with a majority of my clients. One because, well, let's be honest, they can't afford it. I charge double the price of a single day for sex. So that's ¥240,000.” 
“For sex?!” 
“Yep! So people can't afford it, especially when I do family events like this. But I usually refuse; I don't particularly like sleeping with someone unless I know them. You know?” 
You hummed, and Satoru grinned, inching himself closer. Another one of your constructed pillows shifted out of the way. “I understand. I'm glad you have the right to refuse.” He nodded, blue eyes almost sparkling in the light of the moon flooding the room. “Have you ever been in love?” 
“Puppy love, nothing more than that.” Satoru pursed his lips in thought. “But I'm not opposed to falling in love someday.”
“God,” you groaned, rolling into your back, “look at me, asking you stupid questions like I’m in high school.”
Satoru sat up, laying on his elbow as he looked down at you with a pout. “No! No, I don't mind! I like talking to you.” He was leaning over you, smiling wide, white strands of hair falling in his face.
“I like talking to you too, Satoru.”
Satoru wanted to reach out and move Y/H/C strands out of your face. To see if your skin felt as soft as it looked, to feel your warmth. His hand moved, and just before it touched you, he dropped it, clenching it in the pillow
“Y/N, could I ask you something?” 
“Seeing as I asked you something, it's only fair.” You smiled, and it was so fucking cute Satoru wanted to bury his face in the pillow and kick his feet. Restraining his urge, he cleared his throat. 
“You mentioned your ex in passing. I'm assuming it was that asshole from earlier?” You frowned, nodding. “I don't like to pry or push my clients, but I keep thinking about what you said. What did you mean by ‘why didn't he?’ when I asked why he broke up with you.”
Sitting up, you sighed, eyes slowly shutting. Remembering that night was something you desperately tried to avoid. Satoru, however, had opened up to you, and he was helping you. Plus, he'd already caught a glimpse of Toji, so you might as well bite the bullet and tell him. 
Sucking in a deep breath, you exhaled slowly, bringing your knees to your chest, hugging them. “Toji Zen’in and I were high school sweethearts. He was my first for everything, so of course, I fell hard. We moved in together when we graduated high school into a small apartment in Kyoto. We got engaged at nineteen, and things went downhill.” Your grip tightened around yourself. “To make a painfully long story short, Toji developed a gambling habit, burning through his savings while I was in college.” The sheets shifted as Satoru sat up, turning to watch you with narrowed eyes.
“So, as a novice baker working at my parent's inn at twenty-one, I faced a dilemma. My fiancè was jobless, nonetheless, and behind on our rent.” The inside of your nose began to burn as tears threatened to escape. “I could leave him and focus on me and my career. I'd be losing my home and the supposed love of my life. Or I could use the money I saved up for pastry school to cover the rent we were behind on.” 
Sheets shifted, and a large hand gently grabbed your chin, forcing you to look into Satoru’s eyes. “You didn’t.” The tears streaming down your cheeks answered his question. “Y/N—” A sad, broken laugh sounded in your chest. 
“I did. Used everything I saved up to keep us in our apartment for four years.” Nausea churned in your stomach as you laughed a little louder. “After all of that, everything I did, he broke off our engagement. He said he didn't love me, that he couldn't see himself with me five years down the road.” More tears fell down your cheeks, landing on the sheets. “Toji said I was too focused on my career, my dreams, that I was eating too many sweets. That I wasn't as exciting as I used to be.” Satoru’s gaze darkened as you spoke, watching you wipe uselessly at your eyes. “That devastated me, so I packed up, moved to Tokyo, and got pastry training. I haven't been back since.” 
“That fuckin’ dick!” Satoru looked obviously upset over everything coming out of your mouth. “Seriously, you're beautiful, god I hate people like that!” No one should ever be treated the way you have been. To take care of a partner, give up on a dream for someone who you were supposed to marry, to have them pull shit like that. It made Satoru sick to his stomach. 
“Yeah, I'm still trying to get over it. In a way, I guess I'm happy it happened because I feel like I wouldn't have gotten as far in my career as I have. But the scars are still there, along with the trust issues. I can't bring myself to date anyone, let alone have sex.” 
Oh. Satoru perked up at you mentioning sex. You had told him you didn't need sex. The reasoning behind that was like an itch he couldn't scratch. You brought it up, so he might as well take the opportunity to ask while he had that.
“Why is that? The sex part, I mean, you deserve your needs to be taken care of as much as the next person.”
“That my friend is because he broke up with me right after we had sex. Imagine just having an orgasm, and your boyfriend gets off of you and tells you he wants to break up before listing everything wrong with you.”
“Fuckin’ shithead.” Satoru wrapped his arm around you, pulling you into his chest and hugging you as tightly as possible. “I'm so sorry you went through that. He's an asshole for doing that to you.” Satoru’s hand gently stroked your head as your face rested in the crook of his neck. “I hope you recover soon because you deserve to feel loved and happy.” His hand paused as he snickered. “And have mind-blowing sex that makes you forget all about those bullshit excuses he gave you.” 
Gojo Satoru’s words and tone were so genuine you found yourself smiling into his neck. Your arms wrapped around him as you lay down. “I hope so, too. Thank you, Satoru.” 
“No, thank you for sharing that with me; it means a lot.” 
The two of you stayed like that, his hand stroking your hair while you rested on his chest. Your pillow wall lasted thirty minutes and was never constructed again that night or the following one because there was a comfort you and Satoru found in each other.
The two of you had so much fun during the day. Laughing and talking as you would hang around with your family and friends. You told stories and jokes and went to dinners with the wedding party together. He got along well with everyone, and your friends liked him and his looks. At the same time, your parents admired him for helping around the inn, delivering towels to guests, and cleaning up with you. They saw him as a perfect partner, just like you had paid him to do it.
But you were beginning to wonder if it was just his job or just him being Gojo Satoru. The amount of laughing and talking you did in front and behind closed doors didn't feel like he was doing another job. He seemed to be enjoying himself truly. The days seemed to fly by, and it was hard to believe it was Wednesday night. Satoru walked you to the bar your friends were at for the bachelorette party. If it was Wednesday, you only had four days left with him. 
“Are you planning on getting drunk, like super drunk?” Satoru asked, looking at you from over his sunglasses. “Because that's a sight I would pay money to see.”
“Nah, I'll have a few drinks, but I don't like getting hammered drunk.” You gently bumped your shoulder into his side. “You sure you don't want to join us? The girls said they’re okay if you join.”
“Eh, I don't like drinking. I'm a lightweight, and it never appealed to me. If Suguru were here, oh, he'd be down.” You beamed up at him as he mentioned his one and only best friend. “Seriously, he'd love this shit. Being surrounded by girls, drinking with them.” Satoru shoved his hands in his pockets. “Seriously though, he'd love you. You two would get along great. I’ll have to introduce you to him when we get back to Tokyo.” 
His words struck you like a hot iron. He was pulling out his phone and checking the time, oblivious to what he had just said. The man you were paying to be your boyfriend for a week wanted to introduce you to his friend? His best friend! 
It had your heart fluttering as butterflies swarmed in your stomach. Satoru hadn't even corrected himself as he peered down at you, returning the warm and happy smile you were positive was tugging at your lips. God, you hadn't been this happy in so long.
“Yeah, I’d like that a lot.” 
“Cool! We should set something up. Maybe we could get din—”
The door to the bar flew open, and your friends, all looking intoxicated, spotted you. “There she is! Hurry up, Y/N, you need to catch up!” the bride-to-be slurred as she reached for you. 
“Waaait!! Mina, let her say bye to Satoru!!” another bridesmaid said, smacking her arm. 
“Right! Right, sorry!”
You giggled, looking into Satoru’s cerulean eyes. “I'm being summoned. I should get going.” Gojo snorted, leaning down and kissing you on the lips. “I'll see you later.”
“Uhm, excuse me.” Mina had a disgusted look on her face. “What the fuck was that lame-ass kiss?” Your other friends nodded in agreement. “Satoru, what the fuck? Don't you like Y/N?” 
“Of course, I like my girlfriend Mina.” 
“Then kiss her like you mean it!!” 
You turned, giving Mina a look that could curdle dairy. “Mina, stop.” She flipped you off, her attention never leaving Satoru’s face.
“If I don't get to go to a strip club, I wanna see a steamy kiss!” The other girls whistled and cheered. “I want it steamy! I'm talking smutty romance-level shit!” 
“Mina!” 
“What you both are hot as fuck! Consider it a wedding gift!!”
“Kiss her! Kiss her! Kiss her!!” 
Oh great, now your drunken friends were chanting, and bystanders were watching. With a grimace, you turned to the very amused Satoru, who stared down at the drunken girls before his gaze fixed on you.  He shrugged a shoulder as if saying, sure, why not? But he left the decision up to you.
While you were tempted not to make your poor pretend boyfriend a walking spectacle for a group of drunk women. The thought of having to listen to them bitch and moan about you being a party pooper was way worse. So you sighed before turning to face Satoru with a smile. 
“You heard them. If we do this, I can return the dish set we bought.” 
“You don't have to tell me twice.” 
Satoru grabbed you by the throat, pinning you against the wall of the bar. His lips slammed against yours in a heated kiss you'd only seen in movies. His tongue was licking your bottom lip, and you so willingly obliged, opening your mouth, allowing his tongue entrance. Satoru trailed the hand that was around your throat down your curves. His large hand gripped your hips as he growled. Fuck he tasted so good, like cola and vanilla candy. Your tongue moved against his, trying to taste more of him. 
While you tasted like strawberries and chocolate to him, it was like a symphony of tastes between your tongues. One that he didn't want to end, his knee pushed its way between your legs, pressing firmly over your clothes core, making you gasp into his mouth, eyes going wide as the intimate touch. Your moan only made Satoru kiss you harder, desperate to feel the vibrations from the desperate sounds escaping your mouth.
“Whoa! Okay! Okay!” Mina shouted, her wine spilling as she hurried forward. “I said kiss her! Not fuck her in public.” Your best friend playfully swatted at his arm.
When Satoru broke the kiss, a string of saliva connected your bottom lips as you both gasped for air. The sheer intensity of the kiss rendered you speechless as he allowed his eyes to trail over your face. Taking in the flush tint of your cheeks, the way your body trembled under his hand, and the subtle way your hips rocked forward against his thigh. It looked like the kiss had as much of an effect on you as it did on him.
He pressed a soft kiss against your slightly swollen lips. “You did ask for a smutty book kiss.” Satoru sighed as he pulled away. “I just delivered what you asked for.” Mina said something along the lines of ‘smutty kiss without the smut, please’ as she headed back into the bar. “Well, she might not have enjoyed it, but at least you seemed like you did.” His teasing tone slowly brought you back to reality.
”Y-Yeah, it was lovely.” You fanned yourself before heading to follow after your friends. “I’ll see you later tonight.” You breathed out, but just before you could make it inside the door, Satoru grabbed your wrist, pulling you in for a hug.
”Call me when you’re done, and I’ll come get you, okay?”
”Okay.”
His lips were against yours again before he released you. “Okay.” He repeated your word back to you before waving you off as he headed back in the direction of the inn.
His kiss, the tone of voice, and the mere conversation of introducing him to his best friend whirled around your mind as you guzzled down a shot of sake, which had to have been the fifth one in the last forty minutes. While the other bridal party members were laughing and talking, you stared at the table. The kiss and Satoru’s words replayed over and over again in your head, like old sitcom reruns. 
Was it normal for an escort to tell a client they wanted to introduce them to their friends? Was he just being friendly or taking pity on you? Then there was that kiss outside of the bar! He didn’t have to put his knee between your legs, but he did! Now your panties were wet, and the more you thought about the kiss, about him, the wetter they seemed to get.
Holy shit, what was wrong with you!? 
Just three days ago, you told the guy you didn’t have sex; you didn’t need it. But the more you got to know him, the more times he kissed you, the more your icy resolve began to melt. Gojo Satoru was lighting a fire within you. One that you were very cautious of because you didn’t want to be burned again.
You got up from the table, swaying as you headed for the bathroom. Was Satoru just being nice? Or did he feel the same way you did? There was some sort of connection between the two of you. One that you might want to explore if he wants to as well. Why else would he talk to you the way that he did?
Entering the bathroom, you sighed, staring at your reflection in the mirror. Your fingers trailed over your still-swollen lip. Toji had never kissed you like that in the past. Staring in the mirror, you groaned. An image of Toji stood behind you, haunting you like he had done for the last year and a half. 
“Ugh, just get the fuck out of my head and let me heal already.” You scolded the image of him in the mirror, flipping it off.
”I’m in your head?”
Your heart stopped, and your hand dropped to your side. Toji’s image smirked as he tilted his head. You were getting ready to ask yourself how drunk you were when Toji moved. His hands landed on the sink, caging you in while the smell of cedarwood engulfed you like a cloud of smoke.
”Toji—!”
“Shut up, we need to talk.”
(TBC)
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mediumgayitalian · 13 days
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prev
———
Hades’ favourite thing to rant about is how much his family forgets about and sidelines him. Nico has literally never once given the lecture his full attention, because why the fresh fuck would he subject himself to that, but he discovers, lying facedown on the floor of Cabin Three, that he must have internalised enough of it to remember some key points.
He is loathe to admit it, but Father is right. How come the Poseidon cabin floors are so nice and comfortable? The floor of Cabin Thirteen sucks. Whenever he has Floor Time in his own cabin, he gets bruised and cold. Injustice.
“Could you suffer quieter? I’m trying to study.”
“Shut up, Percy.”
“I’m not the one groaning in misery.”
“Shut up, Percy.”
Percy sighs heavily. There’s a loud thud as he snaps his textbook shut, and the creak of mattress springs as he shifts.
“You’re so fuckin’ irritating, you know that?”
“Coming from you,” Nico says indignantly, pushing up to glare at him. Percy makes a face back. “I am here, having a crisis, being vulnerable in front of you —”
“Oh my gods.”
“— like you suggested, to rebuild our tenuous relationship —”
“I wish the prophecy had killed me. Either one, I’m not picky.”
“— and you are studying! Nose in a book! You hate reading! You are doing this just to spite me!”
“I am doing this to pass my classes,” Percy snips. “Someone should send you to public school. You need to experience that particular level of hell.”
“Experienced hell already, thanks. Don’t need a redo.”
“Tartarus references don’t shut me up, Zombie Boy. I’ve been there too.”
“Ugh.”
Percy rolls his eyes, turning back to his textbook. Nico contemplates rolling back on the floor to Ruminate and Think (after the second failure in a row he has a much to think about, like what the fuck is he supposed to do, should he even fucking bother, is he doomed to life without love, etc, etc) but finds himself, instead, sitting upright. Watching his — friend. Watching his heavy frown, listening to the bit-back curses and the crinkle of pages when he holds the book too tightly.
He’s moody, today. Sullen. Ate his breakfast in silence and stomped off to the sword fighting arena, raising hurricane downpour around the open theatre to deter anyone from joining him. Coincidentally, Annabeth has not been seen all day.
“Are you okay?” Nico asks quietly.
Percy shrugs, glancing over then glancing quickly away. “Fine.”
“I mean. You flooded half the camp. So.”
“Just drop it, Nico. If you’re going to stay in here, be quiet.”
Nico bites back the automatic, scathing retort. Be quiet, Nicolò! Lalalalala! Don’t tell me what to do! Ugh! I hate having a little brother! Yeah, well, I hate you too!
A quick, cut-off choking sound cuts through his thoughts. He looks up, startled, to find Percy’s face red, to find him swiping angrily at his cheeks.
“Woah,” he murmurs, climbing hastily upright. He ignores the loud chanting in his brain telling him to leave, the discomfort swirling in his stomach at seeing someone cry, seeing another man cry, instead hovering awkwardly. Percy shrugs off the hand he touches hesitantly to his shoulder, and Nico holds it there, suspended, in between and outstretched.
“I’m fine. Leave me alone.”
Nico hesitates. Of all people, he…nobody wants Nico around, when they’re —whatever Percy is. Upset. The only thing he can probably do is make it worse.
But what can he do? Leave him? Get Annabeth? Jason? None of it seems right. Instead he stands, frozen, hand still half-outstretched, eyes wide.
“You can —” He clears his throat. “Um. Did something happen?”
Percy shrugs. His eyes remain glued resolutely to his textbook, although the pages are wet and warped.
“Cause you can tell me, you know. I won’t — tell anyone. Or anything.”
Gods, he is so far out of his depth. Could Kampe come back and attack? That would be easier to deal with. Nico could handle that.
“I don’t —” the pages of the textbook crinkle under Percy’s grip — “it’s fucking stupid, is what it is.”
Hovering is not the right call. He knows that much. He scans the cabin, evaluating his options — sitting back on the floor feels like a bad plan. He doesn’t think any kind of touch would be welcomed, nor is he entirely comfortable in giving it. He doesn’t want to crowd. He doesn’t want to seem too distant.
Slowly, carefully gauging Percy’s reaction, he sits on the bed, across from him. He leaves the textbook between them, letting Percy keep pretending to read it, and tucks his legs up under his knees. He fiddles absentmindedly with his ring, chewing his lip every time Percy sniffles.
“Why’s it stupid?”
Percy shrugs again. Nico resists the urge to shake him. How does anyone deal with this shit? What the hell is he even supposed to do? He’s not Jason. He’s not Annabeth. Hell, he’s not Will, who seems to read emotions intuitively, who seems to know exactly what to do when someone is scared, when someone is upset. Even when someone is angry. He tries to imagine Will, in his position. Sitting across from a crying Percy Jackson, saviour of the world. Yesterday, one of the younger kids had tripped and scraped half the skin off their arm on the basketball court. Will had been there with a soft smile and gentle, glowing hands, speaking quietly and cracking small jokes until the kid was laughing again. Nico tries to imagine that here, soft words and lighthearted jokes. It doesn’t seem right. Would he — touch Percy’s wrist, like he did with Clarisse? Drag the fight right out of him?
Is Percy even angry? Nico has seen him angry before. Murderous. Fuming.
He’s never seen him cry.
Percy’s voice is like palms scraping hard over sharp gravel stones. “I made Annabeth cry this morning.”
The way he says it makes it hard for Nico to actually understand his words. His tone of voice is — volatile, is the best way he can describe it. Loathing. Based on the curling self-hatred dripping from the sentence Nico would assume he’d tried to kill her — he says I made her cry like he doesn’t deserve to live for it. Like he’s hoping to be punished.
“That happens,” Nico says. He swallows. “When you — love people.”
He and Bianca made each other cry a lot. He just never — stopped, never gave her half a second. Sometimes she looked at him and he knew she wanted to hit him. She never did. But he knew and she knew he knew and sometimes it would well up in her eyes, and she would lock herself in the bathroom of their room and turn on the sink and cry and cry and cry. And it ached something nasty in the cavity of his chest.
Percy sneers at his hands, flexing his fingers. “People who love you don’t make you cry. That’s just — hurting. That’s people who hurt everyone around them.”
Nico frowns. “That’s not true.”
“It is,” he says venomously. “I’m supposed to be — I’m supposed to protect her. I’m supposed to keep her safe, keep her from people who cause her pain.”
“People like you?”
Percy nods.
Nico drags his teeth over his bottom lip. He thinks of bleeding fingers clinging to a tiny shaft of rock, thinks of dangerous green eyes, hard voices; thinks of a thick web clinging to a broken ankle and an abyss. Thinks of promises and oaths and choosing. Thinks of falling. Thinks of letting go.
“People who want to harm Annabeth do not jump into the Pit for her.”
The pages of Percy’s textbook have started to dry. The ink has bled, dark splotches in perfect circles. The fountain bubbles gently behind them, mattress creaking under shifting legs.
“You don’t understand what I —” He pauses, swallowing. “Did, down there.”
“D’you hurt her?”
“…I scared her.”
“Oh, well — Christ, Percy! Is that really what this — brooding is about?” He scoffs. “No shit you scared her!”
“…What?”
Percy looks at him, wide-eyed. Nico rolls his eyes.
“Aw, when you were fighting for your life in the place meant to tear your essence into atoms, did you do things that make you question your personhood? Your morals?”
“I —”
“Of course you did, dumbass! Of course you —” he takes a breath, trying to organize the jumble of thoughts in his brain — “of course the physical manifestation of darkness and distortion made you act differently than you would usually, Percy. Of course it — affected you. Gods. Of course you’re struggling.” He flicks Percy’s knee, looking at him with exaggerated exasperation. “Use your brain, why don’t you.”
A small smile quirks the corners of Percy’s mouth, although it fades as quickly as it comes. He wipes his face with his sleeve, breath shuddering.
“She didn’t scare me, though.”
“Not even once?”
“Not in the same way,” Percy admits. “I was scared, once, when I looked at her. In the death mist. But that wasn’t — her, you know? She could never scare me.”
“I mean,” Nico wrinkles his nose, trying to articulate, “I think that’s kind of abnormal?”
Percy tilts his head.
“I just mean that you have a very high threshold, Percy. For…what you’ll tolerate from people you care about.”
“Everyone has that.”
“Not in the same way you do.” He taps his knuckles, considering. “Tell me the truth — if Annabeth stabbed someone to death in front of you, in total cold blood, would you help her hide the body?”
“Yes,” he says immediately. He shrinks, a little. “Oh.”
Nico rushes to assure, placing a fleeting touch on his wrist. “It’s not necessarily a bad thing. I don’t think. It’s just —” He shrugs. “I’m used to scaring people, too. I don’t mean to. I don’t understand it. I don’t understand what I — do, it’s not intentional.”
Percy opens his mouth, but Nico stumbles on.
“But you’re not — a monster, Percy, gods. No one thinks you’re a monster. Especially not Annabeth.”
Percy wiggles his finger under his watch strap, turning it tightly around his wrist, cutting off the circulation. Nico watches but doesn’t say anything.
“You’re not, either.”
Nico blinks. “Huh?”
“A monster,” he explains. “You’re not, either.”
“Oh.” Nico shrugs. “Thanks, I guess.”
“No, I mean it, dude, I — look. Listen.” Percy sighs. “You got baggage. I put some of it on you. I’m sorry.”
Hands around his — throat — angry, angry eyes — harder — bruising — you promised! you promised! you promised!
“It’s fine.” A pause. “I did shit to you, too.”
“It’s not fine. And I know you did. We can still —”
He doesn’t finish his sentence. He sighs again, a long, defeated sound, and curls in on himself.
“One day you’ll forgive yourself,” Nico murmurs. “One day I’ll — me too, I guess. Me and you.”
Percy smiles tiredly. “And we’ll be okay?”
“No. You’ll still be annoying.”
He snorts. “Whatever. Drama queen.”
“Oh, I’m the drama queen, Mr. I Don’t Deserve To Be Loved.”
Percy snorts. He turns back to his textbook, fiddling with the dried page, and snorts again, trying to duck his head. Nico bites the corner of his mouth, hard. Percy glances up again, and Nico meets his eyes, and they —
Gods, they’re bad at this.
But suddenly Percy can’t choke back his laughter, and it’s wheezing and self-deprecating and still kind of teary and Nico is laughing, too, because thank the gods that shit is over. Percy’s red-cheeked and Nico is red-cheeked and neither of them are going to look at each other for a week, Nico’s sure, but for now he can roll his eyes at Percy’s melodrama and dodge his embarrassed shoving, and it’s fine.
“You should talk to Annabeth,” Nico suggests, when the giggling has toned down.
Percy picks at the torn-up skin around his nails. “Probably.”
“Are you going to?”
“Why were you lying on the floor?” Percy asks instead. It is the least subtle subject change of all time, but Nico takes it as the hint it is and drops the subject. It’s not his business, anyway. They’ll talk. He knows Annabeth better than to think she’ll let it fester, at least.
“Oh, you know. Crushing weight of being alive, mortifying ordeal of being known, et cetera, et cetera.”
“Oh my gods. I’m sorry I asked.”
“Well, serves you right then, you selfish bitch.”
Percy snorts. “What, I cry all over you and now it’s your turn to vent?”
“I’m pretty sure that’s exactly how it works. Transactional and eye-for-an-eye. Exactly as friendship should be.”
“You’re not nearly as funny as you think you are,” Percy says, but he can’t tamp down his smile any more than he can stop his eyes from rolling, so there. Nico is exactly as funny as he thinks he is, thank you very much. A regular comedian.
Percy snaps textbook closed and sets it on the bedside table. “So.”
“So.”
Nico squirms. Suddenly he’s not sure why the hell he came in here in the first place. Are the floors in Cabin Thirteen really that bad? Surely not. Surely Floor Time didn’t have to be in Percy’s cabin.
(He blames Father for this. He’s horribly nosy. No doubt he’s passed his nosiness onto Nico, irregardless of his lack of DNA, and made Nico the way that he is. He can’t think of a single other reason he ducked into the cabin after lunch, when Percy still hadn’t shown his face.)
“Dude, come on. You came in here and whined and huffed and made a nuisance of yourself for literally forty minutes, and now that I’m giving you the attention you begged for you don’t want it? Nuh-uh. Spill.”
“There’s nothing to spill about,” Nico protests, “gods, can’t a man just complain in peace —”
“Ha! Not sure you can call yourself a ‘man’ if you’re voice is still cracking, squirt.”
“I literally hate you. Not joking.”
“Uh-huh. Okay.” Percy raises an eyebrow. “Well, since my guts are already spilled out and flopping all over the floor —”
“Disgusting.”
“—so it’s your turn, now.” He pokes Nico’s bicep. Nico bats him away, rolling off the bed and hitting the floor, scooting over to put more space between them. Thankfully, Percy doesn’t follow, and he exhales, settling his back against the bed frame. The mattress springs creak again as he readjusts. “You can tell me, you know.” Nico can hear the smile in his voice at the cheeky repitition. “I won’t — tell anyone. Or anything. Ahem.”
“You’re so annoying.” Nico picks at a loose thread in the knees of his pants, looping it around his finger.
Will thinks ripped jeans are stupid. He hadn’t said so outright, when Nico came back from his Aphrodite-Cabin-enforced shopping trip, but Nico had noticed his pursed lips and deliberately schooled face. When he’d pressed about it, pestering him until he’d given up with the very southern passive aggressive if you like, Nico, I love, don’t you worry about it answer, he’d gotten a forty minute rant about jeans that “sold less jean for more fuckin’ money” that made him laugh until he cried.
He yanks the thread and pulls. The hole widens.
“Oh my gods, you’re actually whipped. Is that what this is?”
Nico flushes. “Shut up.”
“It is!” Percy grins widely, wicked delight in his eyes. “You are literally thinking about him right now! You might as well be kicking your feet! You —”
“Shut up, Percy, gods.”
“I’ve never seen you so red,” he says instead, because he is incapable of following instructions. His smile fades, face softening into something more pensive. “You must really like him.”
Nico shrugs. Is that what he feels for Will? Gorgeous. I’ve been crushing on you forever. He likes a lot of people. You always know just what I need. A lot of people aren’t Will.
“He’s not scared of me.” No matter how much he fiddles with it, the metal of his ring is always cold. Cold hands, he supposes. He never heats up much. “Or. intimated. Creeped out. He thinks I’m —”
He clamps his mouth shut. A bubble of something expands in his chest, growing out of his lungs, past his shoulders, pushing his throat closed. He swallows, hard, trying to shove it back, but — Nico! Hey! You think I couldn’t stand to see a friendly face? No way, Death Boy, no more Underworld-y magic for you! I can literally feel you fading! My hands are still shaking — here, feel.
“Gorgeous?” The smile on Percy’s face is teasing, but much softer than before. “I heard he — said.”
Maybe it’s the redness of Percy’s nose that hasn’t quite faded, or his still-puffy eyes, but finally the bubble pops, and Nico sighs, tipping his head back until it rests on the edge of the bed. He closes his eyes. After a beat of hesitation, callused fingers brush through his hair, ruffling it, lingering awkwardly before pulling away. He smiles.
“Yes.”
“…Really? He just up and told you, that he had a —”
Percy stumbles on the words. Nico peeks one eye open and grinning wryly. “Yeah. He’s a hell of a lot braver than I am. Or maybe he’s just shameless.”
“He was always really intense about being your friend.” Percy screws up his face, tilting his head as if envisioning it. “I didn’t understand what that meant, at first. I didn’t get…the reason? Behind it? If that makes sense.”
“You forgot about gay people,” Nico says drily. “I know.”
“This is true,” Percy admits. He grins, sheepish. “That’s an L on my part. Every time me and Annabeth went looking for you he’d somehow know about it and ask us a bajillion questions when we got back. I just thought he was really into necromancy, or something, but now it’s like…damn.”
Nico covers his eyes with his hand, fighting back an embarrassed smile. He thinks your eyes are a tie between moonstone and agate, in case you were wondering. There is literally not a single soul in this camp unaware about how much he likes you.
“You’d think it would be easier to get him to go out with me, then.”
“It hasn’t been?”
Nico throws his hands up. “No! He doesn’t — I got him flowers, Percy, and he ground them up to make a poultice. He thought the rock I got him was a bribe. I open every door for him and I always pull out a chair for him at counsellor meetings. I make sure to stand up first when we’re sitting together and offer him a hand. I don’t know what else I can — do, gods.” He makes a noise of frustration, glaring at the ceiling. “I’m being as obvious as I can be. What am I gonna have to do to get him to realise? Fuckin’ — tattoo his name on my forehead?”
Percy slides his hand into his pocket, pulling out his pen. He twists it around his fingers, fiddling with the cap, picking at the plastic casing. He uses the end of it to trace mindless swirls on his thigh, which Nico can’t help but feel is dangerous. One wrong move and he better hope Nico can drag him to the fountain fast enough to stabilize him. But his eyes are far away, teeth gnawing on the inside of his cheek.
“There is a chance,” he says slowly, “that he…knows.”
Nico frowns, turning to face him properly. He looks resolutely at his lap. “What do you mean?”
“Well, I — well.” He does finally uncap his blade, staring at the soft glow of the bronze, rubbing his thumbnail over the leather handle. “I. Knew,” he says haltingly. “That Annabeth liked me. I —”
Nico watches him carefully. This is…news, to him. He didn’t keep up much on camp drama about the two of them — for obvious reasons — but he hardly had to. Even during his brief, one or two day stops at Camp, Percy and Annabeth gossip was impossible to avoid. People talked about them constantly, about how much they obviously cared for each other, how oblivious, especially, Percy was. It used to give him a twisted sort of hope.
“You…knew? And you didn’t do anything?”
Percy winces. “She got frustrated with hiding it. She kissed me, once, before I blew up St. Helens. And I just —” He shrugs. “I couldn’t believe that someone like her would want anything to do with someone like me.”
It’s impossible to miss his meaning, to miss the self-directed bitterness at the end of his words. Nico recognises it because he practically invented it. Someone like me. Someone disgusting, ugly, unworthy. Someone bitter and twisted and wrong. Someone so undeserving.
“I think Will is like me,” Percy continues softly. “That — insecurity.” He says the word quickly, like he might be able to hide it in the rest of the sentence. “I think he thinks very highly of you. And I think it’s hard for him to believe that you want to — to lower yourself, to be with him.”
“That’s inane,” Nico argues. “He’s — bright and kind and smart and — he’s fucking everything, what is he —!”
“He grew up a healer in a camp full of warriors. Full of talented people,” Percy murmurs. “When you’re surrounded by people who know what they’re doing, it’s easy to feel like a loser.”
Nico opens his mouth, closing it again. On principle he doesn’t agree with Percy. It doesn’t make sense. Every single person at this camp has relied on Will in more than one way for as long as he’s been here — as long as he’s been healing them. How could he not know what his purpose is? How could he not realise his talents?
Ace bandage, sound and unwound. Hard blue eyes, self-directed sneer. I’m just a healer.
“He’s not a loser,” Nico says eventually. “I don’t think he’s a — loser.”
Nico thinks he’s quite a bit more than that, actually. In fact if all words in the any language he knows, ‘loser’ is probably the least apt to describe him.
“How do I make him realise? Make him —”
Percy shrugs. “Took Annabeth several years and I still think I’m — well. I still struggle. You’ll have to be patient.” He glances over, and that mischevious smile is back on his face, the one that promises trouble and guarantees Nico an excuse to kick him. “Or, you know, you could just tell him that you think he’s bright, and kind, and smart, and beautiful, and —”
Nico does indeed kick him. He falls back against his pillow, laughing, curled against his side.
“I did not — I did not say beautiful,” Nico says hotly, “that was not on the list, you total jackass —”
Percy only laughs harder, no matter how many times Nico kicks him.
———
next
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fatuismooches · 1 year
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OH NY GOD THE CHILDHOOD CRUSH CONCEPT BUT WITH DOTTORE 😭😭IF THAT'S OKAY?? reader is the only one who was interested in his endeavors and helped, so probably they're just as bad as him so they're partners in crime 👉👈 he's gotta have done experiments on then but they were never painful, only for them fr
♡ 𝐃𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐞’𝐬 𝐂𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐂𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐡 ♡
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synopsis: When you were a child, there was a peculiar boy who seemed to never have any friends, alienated away from the others. Perhaps you could be his first one.
includes: dottore w/ gn! reader
notes: Yes yes yes, I love this! This is so very cute, thank you and I hope you enjoy this! The use of Dottore's real name, Zandik, is used mostly in this because, well... that's what he was called as a child. (And to be honest, if you're dating any of the Harbingers you have to be somewhat... you know. And I think pre-Fatui Dottore would be different when it comes to affection and such... so yea. Subby Dottore I guess?)
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Childhood was something you cherished growing up in Sumeru. The pursuit of knowledge, the Akademiya, being a scholar, was something that was drilled into the heads of the young ones even from an early age. But when you were a child, you had the freedom to actually live, the ability to dream, to have fun, to run around and play freely without having to worry about all that boring stuff. So needless to say, you made sure to spend every second of your childhood the way you wanted as much as you could. You were going to have as much fun as possible! Perhaps that was why the rumors about the teal-haired boy did not make you waver in your pursuit to befriend him too much.
Despite the child being your neighbor, you didn’t really know much about Zandik, but what you did know was that Zandik’s mother was a kind woman. She always waved hi to you when you saw her and made small talk with you. Besides that, you never really thought about it further until your friends brought it up one day.
“That lady really seems to really like you, [Name].”
“Hmm? Oh yeah, she’s always nice to me. She even makes me Pita Pockets sometimes!”
“Her child is too creepy though,” your friend complained. You were taken aback by their statement.
“What do you mean?” you questioned.
“Zandik’s always just been weird. That’s why no one ever plays with him. I heard that he always wants to do these weird… um, experiments I think. There are other rumors too, but I just know the way he acts is just bizarre.”
“I feel bad for her,” another one of your friends chipped in. “It must be hard to deal with such a freak. Aren’t you his neighbor, anyway? Don’t you know this?”
You just frowned and shrugged your shoulders. You didn’t really like the way they spoke about Zandik. Surely he couldn’t be as bad as they made him out to be. Maybe he was just an introvert?
Then again, you barely ever saw Zandik before. He never played with anyone, never spoke to anyone, hell, you didn’t even know if he left his house. The most often you saw him was when you happened to be walking by and caught a glimpse of him through the windows. He always quickly moved away when he was spotted though.
“Well, it doesn’t matter. Just try to stay away from him, [Name].” You nodded your head, but your mind was already made up. You were determined to find out how bad Zandik actually was.
You did say you were going to befriend him, but you soon realized you were not sure how to go about it. You had never met someone like him before, so your choices were limited. The easiest thing you could think of was waiting near his room’s window. It was a bit embarrassing hiding behind a tree, seemingly waiting for nothing, but soon enough you saw him take a seat near the glass. You weren’t sure what he was doing, but he looked very focused on it, and you were a bit mesmerized for a second, as this was your first real look at him. But you soon snapped out of your daze and came out from behind the tree.
“Heyyyy!” You yelled, jumping up and down, attracting his attention. Zandik’s shoulders jumped for a second at the noise, and when he looked up, he was greeted by your figure on the ground. Your expression brightened when you noticed he saw you and began to wave your hands, mouthing something he couldn’t hear clearly.
Zandik was stunned. If he recalled correctly, you were the person who lived next door. He saw you occasionally but of course, did not care much about you. So why were you here? Were you standing there the whole time? What did you want? His active mind produced many questions, but in the end, he knew what you were. Your intentions could not be different from the other children.
The boy looked at you incredulously for a moment before getting up. Your smile grew wider, oh, was he going to open the window and say something? But then he pulled his curtains shut on you, blocking your sight into his room completely. Damn it. 
Well, that failed terrifically, but it was a bit stupid now that you thought of it. You sat down against a tree and tried to think of your next plan, unaware of the now slightly drawn curtain and curious red eyes peeking out of it.
Any other ideas you tried had failed, and you were not sure what to do. You had become aware that he was closed off, unwilling to interact with you or any others. But this had only made you far more interested in him. So, you had only one plan left - to go directly to the person who could tell you all. And so you knocked on the front door of his house, revealing a familiar face.
“Oh? Hello, my dear! What a pleasant surprise to see you, [Name]. Is there anything I can do for you?”
“Hi, ma’am. You see, I, um, have a request. I need help with something.”
“Well, I’ll certainly do my best to help you then,” Zandik’s mom affirmed.
“I want to see Zandik,” you said bluntly, shocking the woman for a second. “I want to befriend him and talk to him.”
“I-I see. It’s not every day another child comes and asks for my son. He is a… peculiar case, after all, and he doesn’t like speaking to other people. Are you sure about this?”
“Please, I really do want to be his friend,” you said resolutely. Her face softened and she relented.
“Alright, my dear. I know he usually frequents this spot…” the woman gave in and gave you directions to where Zandik apparently spent much of his time. 
As you made your way there, you were a bit in awe of how he managed to find such a place. You never knew this route existed until now. Soon, after a bit of trekking, you found an opening that boasted lush grass and smooth stones, with trees surrounding it in a circle. It was quite pretty. And then that was when you saw Zandik in the middle, his teal hair matching the greenery. For a moment, you pondered over how to approach him, but you did not need to think long since he spoke first.
“How did you manage to find this place?” His voice echoed throughout the clearing, letting you know that you were spotted. You tentatively took a few more steps closer, his small body getting bigger.
“I asked your mom,” you began, “and she told me I could find you over here.” He let out a sigh.
“Admittedly, I did not expect you to go to such drastic lengths. You are more persistent than the lot of them,” Zandik acknowledged, though still not looking up from the rather complicated and thick book he was reading. Then, he snapped it shut and stood up. 
“So, what is the reason for your tireless pursuit? Perhaps you’ve come to ridicule me? Or are you here to see whether the rumors are genuine? Do tell, I am truly curious as to what would warrant such an extended hunt.”
You were a bit stunned at that whole statement, but you only had one thing to reply with. “I mean… it’s none of those. I just want to become your friend.”
A moment of silence passed before a chuckle broke it. Then, full-out laughter rang out, echoing throughout the forest. It was almost maniacal, and you couldn’t lie that it kind of scared you a bit, but you bit your lip and remained calm.
“Aha, hehe, why, I have not heard that one yet. How creative. I must say, they are getting better at these.” After that little outburst, Zandik returned to his previous sitting position and became absorbed in his book again. You were honestly unsure of how to react to that. Did the other kids truly pick on him that much, for him to think another wanting to become his friend was a lie? You stood there unmoving until Zandik spoke again in a dismissive tone.
“You can go now. It was amusing while it lasted,” he said disinterestedly, waving his hand. You were dumbfounded but determined, so you answered back very simply.
“No. No, I won’t leave,” you declared so firmly that the boy stiffened.
“No?”
“Yes, in fact, I’m going to come over there right now. You know I wasn’t joking in the first place?” you said rather calmly, trying to seem as serious about this as possible, taking steps toward him. 
He scowled, his attention drawn from his book once again. “No, you won’t. You won’t dare to come near me,” he stated just as firmly, having recalled how the other children wouldn’t even look at him. You grinned and picked up your pace until you were only a couple of footsteps away from him, and that was when he truly realized you were not joking. Zandik hastily tried to get up to avoid you but you dashed towards him, nearly tripping as you lowered yourself to a squatting position, becoming face to face with him.
You leaned in close to Zandik’s face, your nose almost touching his. His unique, red eyes held annoyance and a variety of other negative emotions, but there was something foreign in there too, which was the reason he didn’t pull away - confusion and curiosity. You smiled.
“Well now, hopefully you finally get it into that head of yours that you are now my friend. So, why don’t you tell me about what you’re reading?”
At first, he vehemently denied your friendly advances. He’d mock you, roll his eyes at you and such, or flat-out ignore you which was what he usually did. Zandik was honestly not very welcoming, which you began to expect at a certain point. But you persisted nonetheless. You followed him around no matter where he tried to go. You’d sit close to him but not too close. You’d speak sometimes and would either be met with silence or a sarcastic remark but you began to somewhat enjoy it. You’d stretch your neck to try and read the books he always brought with him in an attempt to better understand him. Though, the day he put the book on the ground so it could be read by both of you was the day you knew you won.
Zandik would always tell you not to come back, but you always came back of course. He’d roll his eyes and scoff at your tenacity, but you came to realize that he liked it. After all, he could very well just go to another hiding place, or arrive at a completely different time if he truly didn’t want to see you. He’d never admit it, but he warmed up to you. You also learned that Zandik really liked to talk. At first, when you would ask him questions about science, he wouldn’t respond but you could see him biting the inside of his lip, restraining himself from going on a tangent. It was the first time anyone had shown any real interest in him. Zandik would ramble on about many, many things, often transferring to a new topic in the blink of an eye. Even when he spoke about less-than-pleasant things, he looked to you all excitedly to hear your thoughts. When it came to those kinds of topics you satiated him with a smile, but you always voiced your thoughts as much as possible which pleased him greatly.
Eventually, you started to invite Zandik over to your house. His mom was positively ecstatic and encouraged this behavior. And yet you didn’t do what typical children did. He wanted to do experiments. Which did not really surprise you after everything was done and said. Despite being your age, he always spoke in such an… advanced way. It was hard to describe, but he always employed these big terms and used such proper grammar and language, something that was very uncharacteristic for a child. And experimented he did. Zandik’s experiments were not limited to mixing and combining different elements but also extended to you, somehow. He wanted a strand of your hair, your eyelash, a paper with your fingerprints all over it. What he used these for, you didn’t know.
Your own parents were scholars, so even though you didn’t see them very much, they left a multitude of advanced books and texts in the house. While you had never cared for them much, Zandik devoured them with ease. Even though you invited him to your house to talk and play together, there were times he’d just take one of the books and read for the whole time, shushing you whenever you tried to speak. You had to settle for simply sitting next to him and trying to follow along, which he… surprisingly did not mind. Under his breath, he’d mutter phrases like “Khaenri’ah” and “Visions” and “ruin machines” which frankly did not make much sense to you, but you always happily entertained him.
One day, Zandik wanted to go somewhere deep in the forest. You had played around there a couple of times, but you had never entered into the depths of it, heeding the warnings of danger from the adults. Naturally, you were a bit worried and scared, but you knew that Zandik would enter with or without you, for there was no length he wasn’t willing to go to cure his curiosity. Though he would not tell you why you were making this journey, you followed him nonetheless, until you reached an area with many damaged stones and pillars. As to how he found this location, you didn’t question it.
“There it is,” Zandik said almost breathlessly. You were confused at first but then you followed his line of sight, and then you saw it. A Ruin Guard sat on the ground, unmoving. Your jaw dropped as you had never seen one of them before, only hearing about their destructiveness from others and in books.
“So you came here to look at that?”
“Indeed. But we are not merely going to look. I’m going to investigate it.”
“Huh?! But what if it awakens and attacks us?” Even though the two of you were a good distance away, you could easily tell the Ruin Guard dwarfed your tiny bodies by a great amount.
“From what I’ve read and heard, it should be deactivated. There is no need to worry,” Zandik affirmed. 
“What do you mean by ‘should be’- hey, wait up!” Before you could finish your sentence, your friend had already made his way toward the Ruin Guard. You scrambled to catch up with him and soon enough you two were close to the robot. Both of you stood there for a bit, just taking in the sight until Zandik couldn’t hold back and approached the Automaton, circling around it, clearly fascinated.
Clink.
The two of you stiffened at the sound.
“Zandik… did you hear that?” He did not respond, but soon enough your question was answered as the eye of the Ruin Guard beamed awake.
Zandik could only stare in amazement as the complex machine glowed and lit up back to life. You were momentarily shocked but you quickly regained your senses and grabbed his hand to get away from there, because you two would be dead in a couple of seconds if you didn’t move. You had to literally drag him because the machine had him in an astonished stupor.
“I thought you said it was DEAD?!?!” you practically screamed at him as the Ruin Guard lowered itself to shoot missiles at you both. You managed to hide the two of you behind a small stone wall as the projectiles hit that instead. “And snap out of it!!”
“I suppose I have miscalculated.”
“You suppose?” Your voice had quieted down so as to not bring back the attention of the robot, which was now walking around the area since it had lost sight of you. “We need to leave before it spots us again.”
“No,” he disagreed. “We’ll incapacitate it ourselves.” It took you a few seconds to process what Zandik said to you.
“Are you crazy? Ah, never mind that. I already knew you were from a long time ago. But this is something far from our level!”
“I believe that we would be able to disable it.”
“Trained adventurers have died from that thing,” you insisted.
“We aren’t adventurers. We are better than them.”
“We’re children,” you deadpanned.
“Two intelligent children,” Zandik corrected you. For a second you were shocked that he called you smart, as you did not expect that sudden compliment. You always considered him the brains and you were… the supporter from the sidelines. “Furthermore, I have a plan.”
You sighed and rubbed your temples. “Fine… what is it?”
“It is quite simple. First, you will hit the eye of the Ruin Guard twice to stun it, and while it’s knocked out, I will remove the core to deactivate it.”
“...Yeah. So simple, Zandik,” you said sarcastically. “And how do you suppose I manage to hit its eye? It’s extremely tall and my aim is nowhere that good.”
“I would not have brought up this idea if I did not think you were that incapable. You are quite useful to me,” he said straightforwardly. Boy, did Zandik have a very odd way of cheering you up.
“I… well, okay then. And you know how to get the core out of it?”
“I’ve read multiple passages of these machines in textbooks. I assume I have enough knowledge to do so.”
“I’m not going to even say anything. You owe me a play date after all of this,” you pouted. Zandik rolled his eyes begrudgingly.
“I suppose I can engage in your nonsensical childish activities when all of this is over. But just for an hour,” he proclaimed. You gleefully smiled, pleased to have won him over.
You didn’t care much for the Archons or Gods but you suppose they must have been watching over you because you eventually managed to stun it. Keyword: eventually - after whole minutes of running around dodging missiles and picking up random stones along the way, while Zandik sat there waiting for the right moment. You swear he was laughing at you. And true to his word, the young boy dismantled the machine’s core, rendering it unable to operate.
“Wow… I can’t believe we actually did that,” you mentioned, still in awe of it all.
“Of course we did. I would expect or accept nothing less. Now, come here. We have work to do.”
Somehow he had brought along small tools to try and dissemble the Ruin Guard. The red-eyed boy’s intelligence had always amazed you. Although it may seem boring to others, watching him fiddle was quite interesting for you. Zandik had also apparently appointed you as his assistant without informing you until now, so you always sat next to him. You made sure to keep an eye on what he did, for sometimes he would put his hand out and expect you to pass him a tool or screw without saying anything. At the end of the day, at least you could say the two of you had feats that no other child could claim to have accomplished.
It had gotten to the point where Zandik constantly wanted your presence around him, claiming that it would do you well to join him since you had nothing better to do. (He just didn’t want to admit he craved your attention and company.) You had accepted this with no complaints, having enjoyed spending time with him far more than your other friends. But you couldn’t deny that your friends were somewhat right about their thoughts towards Zandik - he cared little for others’ lives or feelings, was interested in things others would find disturbing, and even as a child you could tell he was not too right in the head. And yet his morals being concerningly low despite still being a kid, you could not bring yourself to care much. Heh, perhaps he was starting to influence you too.
Many years had passed since the two of you were little kids. Zandik had grown into a handsome, young, man. His mother was no longer in the picture, but the two of you were still together despite it all. And as much as you wanted to end your story off with a cliche everything was well, nothing could be farther from the truth. The atmosphere of your hometown had begun to grow tense. Why, you ask? Because of Zandik. The villagers had always not been the kindest to him, never fond of his rather strange ideas, though Zandik usually brushed it off with disinterest. But as he grew older, it seemed that the town’s dislike for him grew as well. And while you were a bit worried for him, you weren’t too concerned. You were sure the two of you would leave the place one day anyway. No way in your wildest dreams did you think you’d look outside your window and see people waving around pitchforks and clubs. And if that wasn’t bewildering enough, they were pointed toward Zandik.
You never scrambled to your feet and out the door so fast in your life, rushing to your dear friend’s side. His expression was unreadable when he saw you.
“Hey. Hey! What is this all about, huh?” you demanded to the crowd.
“He has to go. He is no longer a child, and so we no longer have any reason to have to harbor him here. He is a threat to this town,” someone spat.
“He’s never even hurt you,” you argued. “He never laid a hand on any of you. It was rather you who did that!” You think you heard Zandik whisper your name quietly.
“He’s a heretic,” another voice hissed. “He and his ideas do not belong here.” The clattering of pitchforks pitched in to agree. Zandik remained silent.
You gritted your teeth. You could see there was no point in arguing anymore. “Fine. Fine then. We didn’t even like it here anyway,” you fumed. In your spur of anger, you clasped your friend’s hand and practically dragged him in the opposite direction, blocking out the boos and mockery from the rest of the town.
Surprisingly, Zandik did not say a word throughout your little journey to who knew where, until you had to take a break from the sheer exhaustion. Embarrassingly, you had to release his hand that you had kept hostage the whole time, but Zandik seemed far less perturbed than you. Perhaps he saw it coming, with how assured his next statement was. 
“We shall attend the Akademiya.” Out of all the possible things he could have said, you did not expect that one for some reason.
“The A-Akademiya?”
“Yes,” Zandik said quite simply.
 “I mean, it’s not a bad idea but… the people there might be…” You did not finish your sentence, but you were referring to how the place could have a good amount of judgmental “scholars.”
He laughed bitterly. “After this morning, I highly doubt anything they do shall ever bother me.” You did not know what words would console him, so the only thing you offered was an agreeing nod and your silent presence.
“They did not exile you, [Name],” he said all of a sudden.
“It doesn’t matter. Getting rid of you would be the same thing as getting rid of me. I wouldn’t stay in a place where you aren’t,” you shrugged simply, placing your pinky over his own.
Zandik did not respond, but he didn’t move away.
The Akademiya was… an experience, for sure. It was many things all at once, the different Darshans and the beautiful architecture, the great looming trees. And the dorms were far nicer than you expected. At least they were spending their funds decently enough. So, the two of you settled into the scholarly life relatively easily. Zandik easily climbed to the top of his classes in no time, quickly garnering the attention of others and then losing it equally as fast when they encountered his prickly personality. There were always gossip and rumors floating about, many of which proclaimed Zandik to be a madman and a monster. And while he rarely ever showed any expression to these words, besides perhaps a roll of the eyes and chuckle or a scoff, you wondered if it really did bother him. As such, everyday life for you was being known as the normal person who hung out with the weirdo.
But, the years spent in the institution were ones you cherished deeply. You were close with your friend for many years, but perhaps staying together in such close quarters deepened the relationship. The two of you would sneak out after hours to do whatever Zandik demanded to be done. You were a bit iffier about breaking rules, but Zandik was firm on not letting anyone hold him back in his pursuit, so you began to think less of it. Many nights would pass by with the two of you staying up until unreasonable hours, whether it was studying together (or more like Zandik helping you study), or listening to him ramble on about his latest ideas and inventions. The strangest times were when he made you stay up despite not speaking at all. You would blink through bleary eyes as he remained silent, the only noise the clinking of bolts and nuts. In your heart, you liked to think he just liked your presence.
But the day you found out Zandik was to be expelled from the Akademiya was one you’d never forget. You knew he had a tendency to act without permission, to turn off others with his radical ideas, so perhaps you shouldn’t have been surprised. You also had some knowledge of what happened in his expeditions with the team - almost everyone did, considering what happened with that girl - and you knew deep down what her true cause of death was. And Zandik knew that you knew too; you could feel it unspoken in his eyes when the subject matter was brought up briefly. You knew you were too far gone when you accepted it. But still, him being expelled was still a shocker. Yet the only thing he bemoaned was losing his space to work.
“It is quite literally your last night in this dorm and you’re sad about losing your progress on your experiments?” Actually, now that you thought about it, it was quite a Zandik thing to think.
“It was the only good thing about this place,” he shrugged. “It is too bad. I shall have to find somewhere else now.”
“They’re going to exile you to the desert, aren’t they?” you frowned. “That’s what they do with the expelled and mad scholars, no?” He nodded in agreement.
“You can’t go. You won’t be able to continue your kind of research there,” you argued.
“And what do you propose? That we fight them?”
“Yes! I’ll fight them! I’d ambush them or something!” you knew you sounded crazy by now but you couldn’t help it. The idea of no longer being with your childhood friend was tearing you in half. “You know, the matra stationed there keeps an eye on all of the scholars who were exiled there, in order to keep them in check. Even if you managed to escape, it won’t be easy to survive in such conditions and they could find you,” you insisted.
“Good thing you’re so eager to fight,” he chuckled. You knew what he was thinking when he laughed like that. “I have a plan.”
You raised your eyebrow. “Oh really?”
“Did you really think I’d go in there without preparation?” he scoffed. “In due time, I shall find a way to contact you.”
You sighed. “Alright, just… let me know who I have to fight later,” you responded. “And…” you trailed off, not knowing if you should verbalize your true worried feelings. He seemed to notice, and he contemplated, trying to figure out what to say.
“You need not worry about me, [Name]. We both shall be fine.” The words felt foreign on his tongue, as they were things he would never say. But he did anyway.
And that was the last you saw of Zandik. But unbeknownst to either of you, he would be visited by a special man - the first Harbinger. 
You stood outside on the small balcony, gazing down at Sumeru’s city. You had managed to nab one of the dorms with the platform, much to the dismay of the other scholars. The two of you always loved seeing them fume, as they had to take their star gazing elsewhere. Neither you nor Zandik had cared much for the stars, but admittedly it was just… nice to feel the wind blow. 
Sleep had escaped you ever since Zandik left. Not hearing the usual metal clink and unscrewing noises, soft grunts, and occasional chair shifting from Dottore had left you unsettled and bothered. You had begun to think about whether you should continue to stay in the Akademiya. Zandik was no longer here, and the place crawled with rumors and gossip regarding him. You weren’t so popular anymore either, as the whispers even extended to you, his roommate who people began to question if you were truly innocent.
You had been feeling a bit lost in general since Zandik had been expelled. You were fully aware of the heinous things he had committed. You had come to terms that he was a criminal, and you were accomplice of sorts as well. Actually, the moment you decided to associate yourself with him was the moment you became not so good of a person. But that wasn’t what bothered you. What bothered you was Zandik’s absence.
Any normal person would have called you absolutely crazy for desiring such a madman’s presence. And you couldn’t blame them. They were right. Yet your heart could not let go of the man who you stuck with since childhood. You could not let go of the boy who scowled and doubted your intentions at first, the boy who eventually warmed up to you, the boy who demanded you be his test subject and assistant at the same time, the man who tutored you in science and maths and everything else, the man who stayed up to ungodly hours to tinker.
The man who you fell in love with.
The revelation was enough to make your knees weak, and suddenly the cold air was too much for your warming body. Quickly, you locked the doors to the balcony and stumbled onto your bed, rubbing your temples at this acknowledgment. Archons, how stupid were you? You were in love with someone whose character was… words you could not describe. Though you knew it all along. You just were scared to admit it. You internally cursed Zandik for doing this to you, as you knew you were too late to say anything. Not that you’d have a chance though, considering his whole outlook. He’d think that love was for fools only, a waste of time when he could pursue more fruitful endeavors. So all of this only caused you to miss him so terribly much more.
You missed his eyes - such a unique red that could only be compared to the one that flowed through living beings. You missed his hair - the softness that you only felt once, when you gently caressed the locks when you thought he was sleeping, but he grabbed your wrist so quickly it nearly scared the living daylights out of you. You missed his sharp and smart tongue that could put someone into their place in a matter of seconds. You missed everything about him.
But you shouldn’t sulk. No - you would not brood. If he was here, he’d probably be reprimanding you for being distracted when there was so much left to do. Sooner or later, you knew in your heart you would see him again and-
Knock-knock.
You bolted up at the series of knocks. Were you hearing things? Surely no one would be at your door this hour of the night. Did Zandik make you delusional now?
Knock-knock-knock.
Nope, you still had some of your sanity left. You swung your feet off the bed, about to head towards the door when a rather strange shadow blurred across the floor. It looked oddly like… a figure… at your balcony… Your heart pounded as you convinced your head to look up.
Zandik was on your balcony. How he managed to get up so many stories of the building, you had no clue. No longer did he don the Akademiya’s uniform, but clothes that were rather nice and expensive looking. It seemed your stupor lasted longer than his liking as he tapped impatiently on the glass door and pointed towards the lock.
Well, it seemed your reunion with him was happening sooner rather than later, that’s for sure. Quickly you scrambled to open the door and pull your beloved inside.
“Z-Zandik,” you sputtered, not believing your eyes. “I- what- how are you here? Did anyone see you? You have to leave, they’re going to catch you!” You fumbled over your words, fighting with the happiness of seeing your friend again but also concerned about him being caught. “What happened with the plan? What happened in the desert? What are you wearing? How did you-?”
Zandik quickly shut you up by tapping his newly gloved finger on your lips. “You must not speak so loudly. But you are correct, we do not have much time.”
“You’re r-right,” you agreed, lowering your tone. “But I just need at least some kind of explanation. Why and how did you come back…?”
“The Fatui has recruited me.”
“The Fatui?” you echoed softly, trying to remember what that was. A few seconds of thinking and remembering the daunting masked men and women who carried around weapons caused you to snap back to life. “The Fatui?!” you whisper-yelled. “Those scary people who always eyed us up when went into the forest and stuff?! I- ah, I won’t even question it anymore. Just… go on.” Zandik smirked at your halting.
“They have provided me with sufficient equipment and a space to work. We no longer have any reason to stay at this ignorant institution,” he declared. “And, from now on, I am to be called Dottore, a new Harbinger.”
“Dottore?” you repeated. “How clever,” you snorted at the irony of the name. “And… what do you mean by ‘we’?” your voice got quieter towards the end.
“I mean what I said. You shan’t stay here any longer.”
You already knew you were following him, but your chest twinged due to your recently newfound feelings. What if you somehow turned out to be a nuisance for him? Eternally distracted by this foolish love? 
“Oh really? And what makes you think I’d follow you so easily?” You don’t think he was expecting you to say that. He cleared his throat.
“I’ve already made it clear to the Jester I shall not work without a competent assistant. There is only one person who has proven themselves to be capable. I will not settle for anyone else,” Zandik stated resolutely. “And,” he paused, uncharacteristically unsure of how to voice what he wanted to say next. He had always been a man who would proclaim the most damning ideas with no remorse. Yet he had trouble formulating his thoughts because of you.
“You are… infuriating,” he began, making you raise your eyebrow. How charming of him. “Since that day in the forest, I knew you were going to be vexing. You would not bend to anything I said, would not leave me alone no matter the methods I used. Infuriating,” he repeated.
“But,” he very cautiously raised his hand to hover near your cheek, just barely making contact, “I never thought I’d become so… accustomed to you. I remember your habits and likes just as much as I remember those formulas you hated so. It’s laughable to think that almost all of my memories have you there somehow.”
“You are irking, but without your presence, I am strangely irritated myself, which is far more of a hindrance than I would have ever anticipated. Without you, I find my mind wandering - it is like nothing I have experienced before,” he finally cupped your cheek with hesitance, as if he himself was in disbelief at his own actions.
“I have known you almost all my life, yet I seem to still need more time to truly figure you out. I am not merely speaking as a scholar, but as… me,” he finished. Now, that was the last thing you expected from a man such as him. But he quickly regained his composure as he asked you the final question.
“Now,” he concluded. “What say you?” For all his talk of bravado and confidence, his hesitant show of affection revealed all the vulnerability that you desired to see and gave you the answer you needed. You placed your own hand over his one on your cheek, maintaining eye contact with him as he stiffened at the feeling of your skin against his, even if it was clothed. You moved closer to Zandik, until your chests were nearly touching. 
Zandik knew what you were going to do. Although the thought of such affection usually made him… ill and annoyed, he could not help but think that the feeling would be different if you were the one initiating. How would his body react? Would he enjoy it? Would he want to do it again?
You moved closer to his face, and without hesitation, you kissed him. Zandik was rigid, the foreign sensation of another’s lips against him was completely unfamiliar to him. But it seemed that the answer to his questions was a resounding ‘yes.’ You pulled away from him, trying to gauge his expression. You did not know too much about kissing, but you knew your newly found lover understood even less, which spurred you to continue. 
Running your hands down his firm arms, you leaned in again to nip and suck at his neck, drawing out a shudder from Zandik. He felt intoxicated by you all at once. He would be sure to write some notes on this later… they would be needed for further… research and experimental trials. He nuzzled his face into your soft locks, silently encouraging you to continue your course of action, eager to indulge in it with as much excitement as he would indulge in forbidden knowledge.
But then you released him with a pop of your lips. “Well, let’s not get too carried away,” you teased. “Wouldn’t want your new subordinates seeing you like this, hmm?” you straightened his collar and smoothed out the wrinkles you created on his clothes. To say he felt bewildered and betrayed was an understatement.
“And if that wasn’t enough of an answer for you,” you changed your tone to a soft, honest one, “Wherever you go, I shall go too. I decided that a long time ago, Zandik.” There was no need for either of you to say the three words that many others longed for. You knew that the relationship you now had with him was far stronger than a few mere words could describe.
Zandik quickly regained his composure. He would be sure to pay you back for your little stunt later. “Well then, there is much to be done. We have not a moment to waste,” he grinned, halfway out onto the balcony. “Take my hand, and we will be off,” he extended his arm, his gloved hand awaiting your own.
Taking his hand meant abandoning this current life. It meant embracing a new life that was far from morally right, one that should surely lead you to be despised by many. It meant becoming a part of the Fatui for Archon’s sake, an organization that was far from reputable. Zandik and [Name] would become lost to the world, the names only being remembered by the two of you in loving, soft-spoken whispers. Others would only know Dottore and his loyal assistant. If you took his hand, there was no going back… 
And yet with no hesitation, you placed your hand in his. 
4K notes · View notes
monzabee · 2 months
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chronically online (social media au) - dr3
masterlist || series masterlist ||
Summary: The one where everyone's favourite couple is chronically online during winter break.
Pairing: daniel ricciardo x actress!reader (model used: dakota johnson)
Warnings: none other than some cursing?
Request: "hi ! i loveee ur smaus !! i was wondering if u could write some more daniel x actress!reader? maybe like interacting with some of her friends/costars? thank youu have a nice dayy <3"
Please also note that all of my works are protected under copyright, and not available for reposting on other platforms. 
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ynverse
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Liked by danielricciardo, rileykeough, sydneysweeney and 934,746 others.
ynverse: proof that we can go without checking our phones for like twenty minutes.
user: we love you mother, even if you are glued to your phone
user: if you told me we'd be seeing daniel on her profile a year ago i would've laughed but here we are
danielricciardo: fucking carolina
ynverse: i fucking hate social media detox
user: i love how they are not serious at all
sydneysweeney: need any cars fixed?
ynverse: will make sure to hit syd's garage!!
user: okay but why is daniel on a tractor
user: girl i don't think that is a tractor
view all 435,269 comments.
danielricciardo
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Liked by ynverse, scottyjames31, redbullracing and 763,829 others.
danielricciardo: in nyc with the missus.
rileykeough: when did you guys get a fucking cat?
ynverse: do you want to know her name?
rileykeough: with that reaction? no
danielricciardo: but you have to know the name
ynverse: yes riley, you have to know the name
rileykeough: is it elvis
danielricciardo: of course not
ynverse: it's graceland
rileykeough: you named a cat graceland?
danielricciardo: happiest place on earth, baby
user: when did they change countries and how did we not notice??
view all 52,735 comments.
user: am i the only one who thinks they are in new york for something big??
ynverse: yeah
ynverse just posted a story!
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ynverse
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Liked by taylorswift, danielricciardo, f1wagss and 873,540 others.
ynverse: crazy night with a crazy bunch of people, thank you to everyone at snl and thank you to daniel who had to deal with at least 10 panic attacks and had to get me copious amounts of coffee.
user: okay but it's so cute that they support each other
user: girl they are in a relationship... that is like the bare minimum thing to do
user: i just know daniel was laughing his ass off during her monologue and i love that for him
taylorswift: i'm obsessed!!
user: i can imagine the chaos these two must have brought to the set... god
ynverse: okay but why hate outside of the club when you can't even get in
user: mom and dad taking over the entertainment industry step by step
landonorris: a shoutout might've been nice
danielricciardo: stop whining
ynverse: that was kinda hot
landonorris: ew
view all 73,928 comments.
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eddiemuonson · 7 months
Text
"My cherie amour" - Eddie Munson x pregnant f! Reader
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Summary: You tell Eddie Munson, your best friend, you're pregnant. You don't hide from him who the father is, but considering his reputation, you were better off without him. The metalhead offers you a surprising opportunity of becoming the child's father.
Warning: TOO MUCH FLUFINESS I CRIED, sex, oral sex, mention of pregnancy. 18+ MINORS DNI!!
Word count: 5.8k
next chapter
🍼🍼🍼
You were sitting on the bench in the middle of nowhere of a forest Eddie Munson made sure no one goes to.
Tapping your fingers against the table, you start to shake your legs uncontrollably as you wait for him to arrive there soon, otherwise you're gonna have a stroke from waiting.
It's been only five minutes but it feels like a lifetime and it's already making you feel nauseous. That's how you found out you got pregnant after a wild night with Billy Hargrove at a party. You started feeling nauseous and then a month later your period was late.
It couldn't be worse than that. You had too much alcohol and Billy was being kind, something he almost never is like. He was treating you nicely since he noticed you were too drunk. It kinda got into you how he managed to be a gentleman.
Even after that day, but then when you told him you were pregnant he just literally... vanished. He made sure he would never bump into you anywhere. Not at the mall, not downtown, not at any party you'd go. Max made him apologize, tried to convince him to be there for you at least. But he never even made it clear he cared about it.
The way you tried to accept this pregnancy without even knowing if you wanted it made you cry yourself to sleep every night. Until you told Nancy, she was so caring and supportive. She would call you every night before you went to bed, she would invite you to stay over so you wouldn't be by yourself.
You were too far away from your family and you actually didn't want to deal with that right now. You just didn't know how to tell them you're pregnant after fucking some douche charming at a party. You're only 18 goddammit.
Then you decided you'd tell Eddie first because he was your closest friend besides Robin and Nancy, even Steve. You knew he would definitely freak out but he would support you in a heartbeat.
You slowly explained him how you ended up sleeping with Hargrove at the party, how you didn't care you didn't wear protection, because afterwards you'd take a pill. But you didn't, because you were so hammered the next day you actually forgot about it.
He listened carefully and waited until you were finished. His first response was exactly how you thought he would react. "Holy shit. Shit! Jesus, (Y/N), you fucked Billy Hargrove?".
You were thankful there was nobody around, his high pitched words were loud. "Oh my God, that is the most irresponsible and nonsense thing you could've done". Like you didn't know that.
"No, it's just bad already that you would willingly fuck him. But not wear protection and forget about the pill?".
He was standing there walking left and right, making you dizzy. "I know that, Munson". You weren't even bothered to be offended by the way he was taking it, because you knew it more than anyone.
"And he never called you, sent a letter, anything?". You shook your head. "He didn't offer to keep it?". You shook your head again.
"Actually, Max begged him to at least be there for any appointment", but he refused to. He said he doesn't care if I keep it or not.
You were lucky you didn't hear his words straight from his mouth. You wouldn't be able to carry on with this pregnancy. But you were still fighting to make it all the way.
Eddie was still in disbelief, it was clearly a fucked up situation. He sat back on the bench and held your hand against the table, giving you a warming look.
"I know this is a crazy situation and I can't imagine how incredibly shitty you must feel because of that dickwad. But you know I'm going to be here for you throughout this. You have Nance, you have Robin and even Harrington".
His hands genuinely squeezed yours as you felt your eyes burning from the tears threatening to fall. "And you know what? Fuck it, I'll do it. Just fuck it".
He grinned, but it wasn't clear to you what he actually meant with that. "Do what, Eddie?".
"I'll take care of it. I'll be the father. What's the worst thing that could happen? I can't hold a fucking baby for life, but I'll learn". He sounds too serious and it catches your breath.
Was he being serious about that?
"Eddie, what the fuck are you talking about? This isn't a play date", he chuckled by your response, waving his hand at you as he stood up only to sit next to you.
"Sweetheart, this kid doesn't have a father. I'm not gonna let you acknowledge Hargrove as this baby's father. I'm more than happy to help you get through this", he was holding your face with both hands.
His mint gum breath was fanning against you and he looked really excited about this. You were about to cry, but you weren't sure it was because of what's been happening or because of the damn hormones.
"Oh, sweet thing. Don't cry", he holds you closer as he wraps his arms around your neck. And you start bawling your eyes out because that's how it's going every single day.
You either cry or eat when you're not working. You cry, you eat, you rest and repeat. Munson got this crazy idea out of his head and it suddenly made you feel welcomed into his world a little bit more.
He was always really caring, he was absolutely the nicest person you've ever met. He never failed to make you feel better on your worst days, he would always make you laugh when you didn't want to.
"Baby Munson is gonna be so loved", his warm voice made you giggle because he looked really excited about that.
"You're already calling this child by your name?", you shake your head as you roll your eyes. "Damn Eddie, slow down with this big ego of yours".
"Fuck yeah I am. Fuck baby Hargrove, this kid is not going to be his anyway", he responded. At some point he was right, but your child would be carrying his genes anyway.
And Max would be so happy to be an aunt anyway. She just made it clear how she's going to love and take care of the baby too.
You were feeling better than you thought you would be. Actually, you had no intention of having this conversation with Eddie for him to just offer to become a father.
Not in a million years would you think he would just do something like that without even hesitating. Fuck, he didn't even think twice about that. Hopefully he doesn't regret it though.
He took you for a walk afterwards and started making plans for the baby's trosseau, which was still weird for you. But comforting, to say the least. You know he was gonna be hanging around spreading his hand on your belly all the time.
Munson is so high up on his hype he doesn't even care this is not his. He just cares about you and your baby, he cares about you and your happiness, nothing else.
He made you sit on a park with him while he was buying pretzels for both you of you. His excuse was that you need to eat and keep the child full of food. You laughed so hard at his statement, it almost made you choke.
Eddie came back holding pretzels and a bag of popcorn, which you suddenly realized you were craving for it without even knowing. He sat in front of you, watching as you gladly take a handful of popcorn in your mouth.
This wasn't a date, you think. You would always hang out with him, go to vinyl shops and listen to music with him. You would take him with you to the mall when you wanted to buy clothes or shoes and he would go with you.
He would end up getting clothes and a shit ton of other things for himself. You and him are always having too much fun around each other, even with Robin and Steve.
"Look, I know it's hard for you to know that motherfuc- sorry, baby", he cut himself staring at your belly and it caught you off guard. "This mother fudging bastard doesn't have any interest in this. But I need you to promise me you're gonna be ok".
First you snorted out loud and smiled at him. "Eddie, just being around you and the guys will be helpful enough for me. I can figure out the rest". You were honestly too hopeless because you didn't expect Billy to be so unconcerned and cold about you.
Not when he treated you kindly that day. But you guessed it was because of the booze, or he was just really trying to get above you and get what he wanted.
Munson attempted to wipe away a trail of tear sliding down your cheek, but soon you started flooding your entire face without even noticing.
He kneeled in front of you and gave you the biggest hug he could. His clothes smelled like weed and his cologne, he was warm and his curly hair tickled your nose.
When you held on to his denim jacket he knew you needed this hug more than anything. You pressed your fingers so tightly against the fabric it was squeezing your fingertips.
"Hey, I got you sweetheart", his voice was muffled by the way it was buried in your hair. "I got you. I always got you".
You spent too long holding against him, until you realized you weren't crying anymore, and he let go of you.
He used both his big hands to wipe away your tears and booped your nose, ripping a chuckle out of your mouth.
He took you home and made sure you were doing good as you were going to be by yourself. You didn't know what kind of expression you were holding but then he decided to ask you if you wanted him to stay the night.
And then he was back in your apartment after gathering some belongings to stay over. He made sure he would sleep on the couch so you could be comfortable on your bed.
Your pleading eyes from those hormones almost begged him to lay with you. "God, those puppy eyes are are the death of me", he snorted.
The entire night you didn't wake up once, if it wasn't for your bladder that started working way more than it should. First month was going fine but now it's taking an overturn already.
You asked him to stay over the next day and he decided he would just stay there for the entire week. He stopped smoking next to you, he would leave outside and do it. He was cooking for you, he would give you a foot bath at the end of the day.
Eddie promised he would do his best to make you feel better, to make you feel more comfortable around him, because he used to be so messy in his trailer. He was doing the dishes and washing your clothes.
One day you were both watching TV and he just laid down on your growing baby bump. It was pretty small given you're still like 2 months in. But the way his head rested against your stomach made your skin shiver.
You used one of your hands to play with his hair and a few moments later, you realized he was asleep as you could hear his heavy breath. This was the first time you stopped thinking about Billy too much, you made peace with yourself when Munson was around.
He didn't let you think too much about it anyway, when you were working, he was probably doing some working outside. But when you get home, he's already there, either preparing dinner or just heating it.
Eddie made his way in the depth of your heart when he started playing songs with his acoustic guitar, his husky voice singing in a low tone as you enjoyed your view. Sometimes he would just want to sing you a lullaby before you sleep.
On a Thursday morning, you had an ultrasound appointment and he insisted he was going with you. You didn't have to say no to him because that was him being the most incredible and delicate person towards you.
When he first heard the heartbeat, he almost cursed in front of the nurse, holding back his excitement. Even if he didn't voluntarily offered to become the baby's father, he would still be too shocked and too happy to be there.
Your tears were burning your face when you heard it too, it became harder to breathe when you saw the image in front of you. It was still too early yet to know the sex, but it was fine for you.
As you got home, both holding bags from a burger shop, you sat down on the couch to finally eat something. You got so excited you wanted to buy baby stuff, you had to make a nursery room for them too. It was better to do it now, before you get heavier and can't even walk.
Eddie's eyes were so shiny, he seemed to be so happy to be a part of this schedule of your pregnancy. You finished eating and decided to watch Footloose. He wasn't the biggest fan of movies like that, but he gave in, trying to give it a shot.
"You're not going to tell me you've watched it more than once, are you?", he asked as he made himself comfortable, getting rid of his sneakers, his feet socked.
You laughed as you gave him a smirk, he shook his head. "God, I bet it's because Kevin Bacon is in it".
"Nope, John Laughlin is quite a catch", you respond and Eddie throws you a cushion.
"Who the hell is this guy?". He's the one putting the VHS on while you stretch your legs on the couch.
"I have no idea, but he's hot". The way you giggle makes him shake his head and roll his eyes again.
"You gotta do something about those hormones", Munson plays with you when he sits next to you. This time, he rubs a thumb that's wrapped with a ring against your belly and you feel your skin become numb.
Yeah, you definitely gotta do something about those fucking hormones, otherwise you'll jump on Eddie pretty soon. You shake your thoughts off when he looks at you, his chocolate puppy eyes smiling at you.
He makes his way to your chin and uses the same finger to hold it. You're thinking too fast about the possibility of just kissing him for a moment, but wouldn't that be wrong?
"What is going on in this mind of yours? You keep staring at me like that", he asks. His thumb making circles against your cheek and you flush. Goddammit, you're not even disguising it. He's still looking at you tenderly.
You get closer to his face and hold his hand against yours. Munson holds his gaze while he awaits for your response. "You really wanna know?". He nods. The only way to find out if this is the right thing to do is doing it.
So you graps his lips and slowly make your way into his mouth, your tongue sliding against his teeth as he tries to comprehend your action. Eddie fully lashes his tongue against yours, giving you a warm kiss.
You wanted to deepen it but you think it's too forward, so you stay like that for a while. He then starts to quickly move his tongue, asking permission, and you accept it, exchanging your saliva. There's an iching between your legs and you have to squeeze before it becomes worse.
You broke the kiss as you gasp for air, forcing yourself to open your eyes and look at him. Eddie is still looking at you with compassion, but he's determined to wonder why you did such thing. Before he asks, you cover your face with embarrassment.
"It's the damn hormones, I'm so sorry!", your voice is muffled and he chuckles, thinking you look adorable like that. You hear his low voice saying "hey" as you look at him. He's holding your hand gently.
"That was fucking amazing", he leaves a wet small kiss on your hand before pecking your lips quickly. You start trembling under his touch and realize you need to recover yourself before combusting.
You didn't actually get to watch the movie for the hundreth time and he never got to watch it for the first time. You spent the evening kissing each other with tenderness, he never let go of your face and never made a move on you. Because above everything, he respected you.
A week later you decided it was time to let your other friends know. Nancy was so excited, she knew Jonathan would be thrilled for you since they were planning on having a baby one day. And you know how much Steve and Robin are going to freak out, along with the other kids.
You know your baby bump is starting to show off so it's easier to just tell them now. Why else would you hold that secret from your friends anyway?
Everyone was already gathered by Nancy's house when you showed up with Eddie. He couldn't actually stop his smile from getting wider and wider, which to other people, he looked like a creep. He looked like he had a hanger in his mouth actually.
You asked him to not make a fuss about it but he just wouldn't listen, would he? He whistled with his fingers and everyone looked at your direction. Now they had your attention, you started to feel really embarrassed.
"Everyone, this gang is about to welcome a freaking baby!", he said it naturally and everyone inside the room shouted "what" in unisson. Nancy was trying to hold back a laugh and Jonathan seemed pretty impressed. But other than that, the others were all shocked.
"You got (Y/N) pregnant?", Steve had a high pitched voice when he asked. You laughed so hard at the way everyone else just looked at you.
"No, but better me than Billy Hargrove", you punch his shoulder so hard he flinches. "What was that for?"
"You what?", Robin was the one yelling now. "Wait, sit down. Congratulations, honey! But shit, Billy Hargrove?".
You're so lost into all the buzz you don't know where to start. Then you take a deep breath and explain what actually happened. Max is still disappointed at her brother, but she was so happy she was about to become an aunt.
"Holy fucki-", Dustin opened his mouth but Eddie cut him off.
"We're not cursing in front of the baby!", everyone just snorted and threw cushions towards him.
"Jesus, (Y/N). You know Hargrove was always a dickhead", Steve is the one saying it, but he looks at Max. She shrugs her shoulders, she knows he's not the best catch. "How could you just fuck that guy?".
"Again, not cursing in front of a child", Eddie was playful this time and Harrington was not in the mood for that, apparently.
You made sure you wouldn't cry about it anymore. You tell them you were mad drunk and didn't remember about the pill the day after. And the day after that, it just slipped from your head. The way they reacted when Max said he didn't care about it made you feel warm.
They all made sure you were better off without him anyway, otherwise he would probably make your life miserable. And then, enters Eddie Munson.
"You just offered to be the father? Like out of nowhere?", Mike asks while the metalhead still holds a grin on his face. It might give him cramps on his cheek from smiling too much. He nods and holds you by your side, rubbing his spread hand on your belly.
"This little peanut is going to be a freaking Munson!", you rolls your eyes at his statement.
"Easy with the ego Eddie, it only gets your name if we're married". You barely finish saying it and he's already on his knees for you.
You hear everybody in the room complain about his suggestion and you snort.
"God's sake Eddie. You're such a babygirl", Jonathan jokes and he doesn't care about the mocking.
"I'm not marrying you Eddie. Or at least not yet". You're still feeling your stomach sore from laughing too much at the whole situation.
"I don't care, I'm going to get you either way". He crashes his lips against yours in front of your friends and they all make different sounds. You're amused by this, but you're still confused about your relationship with him.
You and your friends enjoy the evening listening to music, eating and playing games. They all make sure you get the priority as the pregnant one and Dustin starts thinking about names for the baby. It's so sweet to see the kids talking to your belly, mocking each other and joking around.
From the corner of your eyes, you see how Eddie can't stop staring at you, he's holding a kind gaze towards you as you smile to the kids. Max is completely melted when she talks to the baby, using her index finger to poke you slightly.
When you're next to Steve, he starts joking about the fact he can lend you movies for free now. He says he wishes he was still working at Scoops Ahoy so he could give the child all the free ice cream, for as much as it wanted and it melts you.
Munson straightens his torso when he sees the way Harrington is slipping his hand up and down your stomach, his face too close to your skin as you feel his breath fanning it. He watches as you hold your head back to laugh at something he just said.
Suddenly he feels like he could be the one to do that to you, but then he realizes he's been the one doing that for the past few days. He watches the way you hold your belly without noticing when you're talking to someone else, the way you're glowing when you talk about your pregnancy.
He can't help but smile at himself, knowing he's a part of that glow. He's not doing it because he feels bad for you, he's doing it because he loves and cares for you, maybe more so than you know.
After that kiss he's started to think about the way you've been treating each other. You've been spending so much time together it only made him feel more attached to you. By now, he's experiencing a sudden jealously looking at Steve. You don't even touch him, you just sit there and watch him talk to your belly.
Robin comes closer to you and kisses your entire stomach, she smushes your belly and you hold her head. She's being so ridiculously sweet it's irritading, in a very good way, because you just loved her so much.
The entire night you were being spoiled by everyone, even Mike was being less quiet as he would just chat with your belly. You know you were going to be sore from laughing at the way Henderson was treating you all the time, the way he was chatting with your stomach and how he would just respond back like the baby was talking to him.
You were picking some slice of pizza in the kitchen as Eddie approached you, leaning against the kitchen island. He watched as you heated the food, waiting by the microwave.
"This is amazing, right?", you ask as you lean next to him.
"Yeah, their pizza is so good I could eat it in one bite!". He knows you're not talking about the pizza but can't not joke about that. "You should see yourself. You're literally glowing".
The microwave beeps but you're in a whole other world now. He catches one stray of your hair pulling it behind your ear and your skin burns against his touch. You can't help but wrap your arms around his torso and rest your head on the crook of his neck.
You love how he smells like weed and cologne, a slight scent of alcohol in his breath makes you dizzy. You're looking up because you're shorter than him, nuzzling his nose.
"Thank you for being so wonderful to me, my cherie amour", he's feeling like he's under a spell when you say that. You always call him like that when your angry or when you're sarcastic to him.
He gives you a sudden kiss, pecking your lips slowly. Eddie makes a trail of kisses on your cheeks, rubbing the tip of his nose on your ear, where he knows you feel like jelly. He breathes out and you shiver.
He chuckles against your ear because he sure knows how to tame you. The microwave beeps again and you break the contact, leaving him behind.
"You're too fucking sneaky, Munson", you grab your plate and you give him a threatful look.
"Honey, you just cursed in front of the baby!", he mocked you and received a hand towel you tried to throw against his face in response.
You couldn't control yourself after that moment with him. You kept creating different scenarios in your head where you end up in bed with him, because that's just how you were feeling. It was undeniable to admit you were feeling things for him, not just because of your pregnancy, obviously.
You decided to hold your thoughts about him when you came back home, but the entire drive he would slip one hand on your thigh and slightly squeeze it. He would look away from the streets to charmingly smile at you.
You don't hold yourself back when you get home, when you watch him changing clothes in your bedroom you make your way to him and just take your clothes off behind him. Eddie only then notices that you're undressing when he turns over and watches you staring at him.
There's lust in your eyes and an indescribable expression he couldn't figure out just yet. It was the first time he was honestly seeing you in your lingerie and God, he fucking loves it. The way your baby bump accents with the thin waistband of your underwear around your hip makes him lightheaded.
He grabs you by the neck with one hand using the other one to grip your waist, tightly against his caloused fingertips from playing too much guitar. You moan against his lips and you feel his boxer tighten from the growing bulge. You wrap your fingers in a handful of his hair and hear him groan from the pleasure it gives him.
He gently lays you down on your bed and spreads kisses on your inner thigh, slowly pulling away your lingerie. He doesn't look at you at first, but when he does, you watch his pupils dilated as his eyes flicker when he licks your delicate skin.
You purr when he leaves a wet trace close to your folds and his cock twitches as you gasp when his tongue finally savor your core. He keeps a low pace because he wants to feel every inch of you in his mouth, he makes his way to your entrance and slowly tongue fuck you, watching with bliss the way you pull his hair by your hands.
Munson is glad he's on his knees by the bed, otherwise he would become numb from his view, watching as your baby bump rises when you arch your back.
He raises one hand to tangle his fingers with yours and licks you widely. In one sweet motion on your clit he gets to make you whine his name and he needs to take his cock out of his boxer.
God, he's tasting your folds and it's just so sweet he can't get enough of it. He listens to you hissing when he sucks your skin raw and pulls back, your throbbing clit flickers against his mouth and he feels your entrance soaking from pleasure.
Eddie mumbles against your core and you can't help but cry his name. "Oh, Eddie", he works his tongue faster this time, using the tip to play with your sensitive clit. You're so horny you already feel the heat building up so fast into your body you have to squeeze your legs, closing them around his head.
He notices your action and starts leaving a huge amount of kisses on your stomach, enveloping you with kindness, he's never getting tired of cherishing you and your bump.
He manages to unhook your bra with one hand and smirks when you roll your eyes at him, smiling. Eddie opens the drawer of his nightstand and grabs a condom. He knows it's not necessary but he wants to make this the right way with you.
He kneeling above you after getting rid of his underwear and you're fascinated by how pretty his cock is. The tip is already crying with precum, warming himself up while looking at you. He holds the protection in front of him as he's about to mock you in the sweetest way.
"I know we don't need it but", he shakes the plastic as he shows you the latex. "This is a condom. We use it for protection so we don't get pregnant".
You're so annoyed with him but his voice is deep as he places the material on his tip. "See, kid, your mommy probably didn't know about its existance. When you're here, please make sure you learn about it's significance".
He said as he rolls the protection on his length, the way you're soaking for him now is unbearable. You're still repeating the way he says "mommy" over and over again in your head and you almost miss it when he places his tip in your entrance.
He sucumbs into you so slowly it sends shivers through your entire body and you hiss at him. He leans forward to kiss you gently but you can't stop your moans against his mouth.
He pushes further into you and holds your hip tightly. You grip both his arms as you try to look at him, enjoying the moment.
"Can you talk dirty to me?", you ask suddenly. It just rolls out of your mouth. Eddie is static for a moment because he wasn't expecting it.
"I mean, I can try. You heard before, I am a babygirl", he says as he thrusts into you, hitting your cervix, and you cry. He feels his cock twitch by the sound you make and groans back. "Fuck, you're taking me so well".
You started to feel dizzy by his words, he leaned closer to your ear and you trembled under him. He deepened inside you and rolled his hips against you, making you whine in his ear. "Mommy is such a good girl for daddy".
Munson isn't really one of dirty talking, but he realizes you have a kink and you're so into it, you're probably going to cum soon. He just keeps listening to your blissful slurs as he keeps pumping you, his thick length is rubbing against your wall so deliciously.
"Fuck, you're so horny, huh? You're hungry for me, aren't you?", he sped up and you squinted your eyes, taking him enterily, swallowing his throbbing cock.
You nod but this isn't enough for him, he wants words. He wants you to whisper against his ear. He wants to make sure you're desperate for his cock. When he grabs your jawline and make you look at him, Eddie gives you a lustful kiss, his tongue quickly scraping yours. His mouth open as he moans against you.
"I didn't hear you before, honey", he demands through your lips. "You're fucking hungry for me, aren't you?". It's so vicious you just wanted to listen to him talking to you like that all night.
"Yes, Eddie", you were barely breathing as you feel your climax reaching its highest point. You're gonna come for him like you have never come before, because being pregnant made you feel every sensation to it's maximum.
"God, you're coming already. So wet, you're dripping sweetheart", he couldn't stop grunting on your ear and it made you squeeze your walls so tight against his dick he couldn't hold a gasp.
You started shuddering when you felt a shockwave of pleasure take up your entire body, your veins pumping your blood so fast you almost fainted under him. Your legs were so weak they fell on the sheets as Munson watched you fall apart in front of him.
As you gasp for air and try to catch a breath, you stare at the brown eyed man who's still pumping you, reaching his own climax. Eddie doesn't get too far from you and he gushes inside the condom, his dick throbs wonderfully inside you. He scrapes your lower lip against his teeth as he makes his final thrusts before he laid on you.
You take a few minutes to recover from the madness you've experienced, while Eddie cleaned himself up. He made his way to his side of the bedroom and spooned you, resting one hand on your baby bump again.
"Should we make this thing official? I'm not gonna lie here, I would love to live every moment like this with you. And I know it's mad forward, but this has been such an amazing week", he said as he leaned his head on the crook of your neck, smelling your scent.
"I would love to, too. But don't get too excited, the kid doesn't get your name yet. And you cursed A LOT during sex", you turn your head to face him and he's looking at you like he's about to defend himself.
"You asked me to talk dirty to you!", you chuckle at his response and he rubs your stomach. "I'm sorry, kid. Sorry, daddy will promise he's keeping it just G next time".
You can't help but kiss him all over as he pinches your sides, tickling you until you beg him to stop. For the next hour, you lie in bed, cuddling, dialoging about how you're taking this relationship to the next step.
Before you fall asleep, you realize how just his warmth makes you feel safe around him. You realize your baby is going to have a better father than it was supposed to. You're just glad you didn't give up on it before telling him the truth.
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@robins-scoop
Kink Discovery- Pt. 2 (Hands)🤩
C.S.
Summary: Chris notices that you seem to be looking at his hands a lot.
TW: smut
"Ma? Hellooooo-? Earth to ma?" Chris nudges me, his hand pushing my shoulder. His long fingers touching me- fuck.
"Yeah? What is it, Chris?" I force myself to focus on his face.
"You good? You seem really, like, far away."
"Yeah, I'm fine. One hundred percent. I'm good!" I assure him. He squints at me.
"Uh huh...well, do you want to play a couple games with me?" He lets his lip pout slightly.
"I suck ass, but sure. Since you asked so nicely." I tease him slightly. I don't want to get him riled up, but I don't want him to notice my affliction.
He hops up and runs to his room. I take a moment to myself. I need to stop looking at his hands. I need to stop thinking about them wrapped around- Stop. Shit. I get up and force myself to follow the path I know leads to his room.
"What were you wanting to play-?" The last word trails off as I close the door. He's leaning, trying to reach something, but his hand is gripped so tightly around the edge of his desk; I can't help but stare. How could I not?
His head pops back up, and he stands up straight. He smiles all lopsided and it's so soft. He lets go of his desk, flexing his hand out, spreading his fingers and stretching. I want those fingers in- No.
"Hey, you up for a game you'll actually be decent at?"
"Uh, sure?" He pulls up the game. "What is it, exactly?"
"The sims." He grins at me. My chest swells up and I swear I must be dying.
"I love you." I kiss his cheek and he wiggles happily. I sit down and we start playing. Sadly, the sims can only hold my attention for so long. It's about 45 minutes later when my eyes start drifting to his hands.
I can't help it. They're just so pretty. They're perfect, honestly. Perfect to- Nope. Not going there. Come on, just focus on the game. His hands are right there though. Nearly so close I could taste them. God, I wish.
"Ma?" I'm staring. Shit. "Something on my hand-?"
"Nope. No. Nothing. Nothing at all." I quickly respond. I am so smooth, clearly. My cheeks are warm, they must be red. Chris sticks a hand out and touches my scorching face.
"Are you sure?" He moves his hand to my forehead. "You feel warm, babe." He lets his hand slide down the side of my face, coming to cup my jaw. His thumb brushes the corner of my mouth. I can't bite back the noise rising from my mouth.
His face contorts, and his eyes gleam with a new understanding. He places his thumb in the center of my bottom lip, slowly moving it downward. "Open."
My mouth is left agape, and he sneaks his thumb in. "Suck." My body is on autopilot, my mouth automatically sucking on the digit. "Good girl." I moan around his thumb.
I reach for his other hand. He gives it willingly and I move it to exactly where I want it. Now, one hand is occupied with my mouth and the other it up my shirt.
He pulls his thumb back. "Chris no-" I whine, trying to follow his hand. He gives me a look that stops me in my tracks. He adjusts himself in his sweats before returning his hand to my face.
This time, he points two fingers into resting on my lip. I open my mouth before he says anything. He begins to lightly thrust the two fingers into my mouth, never going to far back as to avoid my gag reflex overreacting.
"God, I wish this was 'm dick." He groans. I moan around his fingers, letting my hips oscillate. He groans as he watches my movement. I reach one hand out and place it on the same spot he had previously adjusted. "Shit, your hand is warm."
He moves his own hand down until it's at the apex of my body. I suck harder on his fingers, swirling my tongue around them as a means to deal with myself.
"Fuck ma, just like that. Can't wait to have you do that on 'm dick. Fuck. Need your hand under ma." I move my hand under his waist band. My palm is warm, my fingertips slightly cold, and he hisses as they brush across his sensitive head, spreading the wetness there across the whole length.
It's not long of my hand on him that Chris finishes into my palm. As he finishes, he begins moving his own hand faster than it previously was. "Aw fuck." He groans. "Need my fingers in you ma." He pulls my sweats and underwear down.
No time is wasted, his fingers immediately finding the source of my wetness and plunging in deep. He draws out loud and long noises from me. He forces out moans and groans, whines and whimpers, begging and pleading. Finally, I squeeze his fingers so tightly inside of me that I think I must have crushed them.
"Have a nice time with my hands, I presume?" He teases, kissing my head and removing both of his hands.
"I love you." It's all I can manage.
"I love you too, ma."
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wannaeatramyeon · 4 months
Text
Adventures of YOUR part time job in the Lookismverse
G/N. You work the graveyard shift in a convenience store. You meet bizarre characters on different nights. Part 1 | Part 2
The customers can usually be separated into 3 categories.
Drunks, students, and weirdos.
Unfortunately for you, lately the weirdos have turned into regulars. But fortunately the weirdos aren't so weird.
The one that made it a habit to check in on you, with the scars and the cheesy wink wasn't so bad. Jack, was it? You can't remember and it's been too long for you to ask. You awkwardly address him as 'you' and avoid any situation where you need to use his name.
He likes to ask how you are, tell a few jokes. Spirit undeterred even when you look at him with a blank face because bless his soul, he's not funny at all but at least he tries and he's a lot less weird than first impression.
He hangs around at odd times, then again you do only work at odd times. Telling you stories about this and that. Something about Big Deal, something about a guy called Sinu and something about another guy called Samuel.
It's difficult to keep track. It's like he wants to talk but he's cryptic and god, it's 4am who can blame you if your eyes are glazing over.
John, or is it Jerry, is waffling again. He seems to always be talking about Samuel. Who he apparently misses and wonders where it's gone wrong and hang on, he's never been explicit but you just had to know.
When he takes a breath to munch on a cookie, you ask, "Hold on, is Samuel your ex?"
Wait no his name is Jason, definitely Jason- freezes mid-chew, "Why would you say that? He's my friend!"
Joshua sprays crumbs all over you but you note how he doesn't say no.
(You think you see this Samuel one early morning. You’re pretty sure you’ve seen him before and man, he really looks like shit.
Looks like the breakup is getting to him too.
Poor Samuel and Poor Jim.)
.
.
But sometimes weirdos are just weirdos. 
It's ok. It comes with the territory so long as they're not in the habit of hurling abuse or whatever, you can deal with it.
In recent memory, there's only been two people that you have had to almost chase out with a broomstick.
You should have known they would be weirdos when one of them walks in in surprisingly teeny tiny purple camo shorts. Not that you're a pearl clutcher, but you're worried that one wrong move and he could be dangling out.
Besides. Purple. Camo. Shorts. Those words should never follow one after the other, and you repress a shudder at this guy's hideous dress sense when he comes up to you.
You thought the other one was alright, at least there's no hideous purple camo shorts in sight and his hair is nice (huh, this style must be popular, you’ve seen a lot of guys with this hair)-
But then he opens his mouth and asks for snakes and you think it's karma for judging camo-guy for his appearance when his friend is equally odd.
"We usually keep the snakes next to the ramen," you deadpan and the two men actually go to seek out the supposed snake (meat or pet purposes?) only to return moments later, empty-handed and looking confused.
"I think the snake is all sold out," Non-camo guy says as camo-guy glances around as if you might have hidden your snake stock elsewhere.
They must have thought you were stupid as you stood there opening and closing your mouth like a fish (or maybe a snake, do snake do these things), because come on, how are you even supposed to formulate a response to that?
Then you look at their eyes and also notice them looking snakey and surmise it must be some weird fetish thing. Pretending to be snakes and eating snakes and having pet snakes.
You want no part of this and tell them to get out.
.
.
"I'm Baek Hangyeol," a new face says, pointing to his ID badge pinned to the white coat. 
"Doctor Baek Hangyeol." He stresses Doctor and Hangyeol and you wonder if he is waiting for a round of applause.
You don't say anything but you do notice he looks like a teenager and what idiot would let a teenager operate on them. (Drunk, student, weirdo. He could be all three.) Doctor Baek Hangyeol must be bluffing.
You decide not to call him on his bullshit. 
"Cool," is all you respond with because you don't want another complaint for being too mouthy. You are half tempted to tell him you're not a doctor, that you just work here but that seemed kinda redundant so you keep your mouth shut.
"Do you believe in true beauty?" he asks when you finish bagging up his goods (a plain water with added minerals, a bottle of multivitamins and a protein shake) and you think what sort of question is that.
You give a halfhearted shrug and say "Sure" and he hands his business card over.
"If you're ever considering it," he tells you with a wild smile. After he has left you look down at the lettering, eyes zeroing in on ‘Plastic Surgery’.
Excuse me?! What is he trying to say?
You thought he was a weirdo but now he has firmly shifted over to asshole. You regret not telling him to go fuck himself while you had the chance. The complaint would 100% be worth it. Zero regrets.
On your break, you burn the card and feel a small sense of satisfaction.
.
.
A tall blonde guy with a creepy vibe (hold on, have you seen him before, he seems familiar. Then again, creepy blonde guys seem to be quite common around here-) walks in with the most billowing coat you have ever seen.
The entrance is kinda cool but the actual coat is kinda tragic with the cheesy red lettering and you wonder if you can pull it off any better than him.
You're still wondering about his coat when he's paying you, and hang on you have definitely seen him before because he says arigatou and hands over yen and you tell him no. Won only.
The idea of the coat, which has evolved into you fantasising about having a full blown cape, quickly loses its charm however, when the blonde gets caught in the automatic doors and you have to wrestle them open to free him.
Afterwards, you ask if he's ok, if he is harmed and can’t resist asking if the coat is ok too. You really don't want a lawsuit on your watch especially when the malfunctioning doors are not your fault.
Your kindness is repaid by him telling you he's not interested (what the fuck) and that his heart will not stray (again, what the fuck).
.
.
You accidentally eavesdrop on a couple of students lamenting about missing out on school work. You didn’t mean to eavesdrop ok, the aisles are tight and cramped, it’s a small space. 
You peek over, and the one with big ears (seriously, they are huge) is telling the one with his back to you (goodness, his back is huge too) that school is important and he’s got notes the other one can use. 
It’s sweet, you think. School is important and it’s good they recognise that. Nice of them to help each other out too.
When they both come to pay (holy shit, that’s a fuckton of chocolate milk), you’re surprised to find Big Ear’s friend, Big Back, looks anywhere between late 20s and early 40s but it’s never too late to catch up on education, you suppose.
You spend the rest of your shift feeling motivated.
.
.
“Going camping?” you ask the guy with the sandy blonde hair, chuckling nervously and ringing his items through. 
Either he’s going camping or he’s gonna kill and hide a dead body in the forest.
He’s pretty stoic, only giving you a curt nod. You can’t help but probe him a bit more. You’ve got a feeling that if or when the dead body turns up, you want to at least clear your conscience that you’ve tried your best so you make some more idle small talk.
You mention how you haven’t been camping for ages, not since you nearly burned your tent down and singed your hair after you tried to cook some marshmallows over a fire that turned out to be more of a raging bonfire (and might have awoken your pyromaniac streak, but you keep that to yourself).
The blonde guy actually pipes up and says “Master Taesoo would never do that.” 
You almost apologise out of principle due to how earnest he sounds, then he mentions something about how good this Master Taesoo is at catching and cooking snake and you wonder what the fuck is up with people and the snake obsession.
Either way, it doesn’t sound like someone is getting murdered. Only a snake (poor snake) so at least you can sleep easy later that day.
.
.
“Oh hi DG,” you say, “Sorry about your cryptocurrency falling through. Diegocoin was it?”
He blinks at you a few times in surprise and heavens above. What’s that saying, fool me once, shame on me; fool me twice, shame on you? This guy has fooled you exactly no times with his shitty disguises and his effort has substantially dwindled too. 
He has only put his hood up and you did think you might get mugged at one point-
It’s an empty store, for crying out loud. Who comes into an empty store in the asscrack of night with their hood up, not wanting to draw attention to themselves.
Then you notice the pink hair and shifty glance and duh.
“Is it the-?” he asks, putting his hood down and signalling to his hair.
“Yeah, it’s the-” you signal to your own head of hair. “Dude you really need to dye it if you’re going for subtle.” You pause, consider something, “Hold on.”
You walk over to the beauty aisle and grab the black hair dye.
“On the house,” you tell DG because this guy really has no self awareness.
.
.
“What do you mean no?”
“No." Your boyfriend peers down at you, arms crossed and at the end of his patience with you.
You open your mouth to argue- 
“No. You know nothing about Taekwondo. How can you work here?”
You look around helplessly at the studio. He’s not exactly wrong but you’re sick of dealing with the weirdos and the snakes and the creepy blondes. “But your dad-”
“I don’t care what that stupid old man says,”
“Taehoon!” Hansu scolds from the other side of the room, and Hansu's class of toddlers all whirl their head around to stare.
“I can learn?” you offer and Taehoon raises one skeptical brow.
“So you’re going to be a student?” You nod enthusiastically, “And we’re going to pay you for that?”
Oh. Damn. 
He’s got you there.
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ennas-aesthetic · 6 months
Text
What the fuck is Jesus up to in Good Omens season 3?
This is a question I've been thinking long and hard these past couple of days and I have some THOUGHTS SO. Buckle up.
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Aziraphale and Crowley watching the Crucifixion (Good Omens, 2019)
First off. The answer to the question posited is relatively simple. What is Jesus up to in GO3? With s2's ending in mind and with the hints we've gotten for 668: Neighbor of the Beast over the years, we know he's descending to Earth to initiate the Second Coming. And that Aziraphale would probably make that happen - or do everything that he can as Supreme Archangel to sabotage it.
But I wanted to examine on how Jesus might fit into Good Omens' overall narratives and established themes - about morality and humanism and free will, and. I'm just saying, there are A LOT of fascinating routes they could do for his character.
(Disclaimer as usual: this is a theory that I obsessed over when I was stuck at the cemetery during All Souls' Day and must be treated as such. In no way am I insisting this should be how canon events must happen. I am just doing this for the funsies.)
The THING about Jesus if you situate him in the world of Good Omens (with the assumption that most of the pop culture Christology mythos associated with him remain intact) is that in this context he very quickly becomes: 1. Adam Young's narrative foil; and 2. an Aziraphale parallel.
Now, the first one is obvious. Of COURSE he is Adam Young's foil, duh. Adam isn't called the ANTICHRIST for nothing. Brought into the world just for the sole purpose of ending it. However, when the time comes for him to fulfill the Will of his Satanic Father, Adam flat out REFUSES.
Both the book and the show attribute this to Adam's human upbringing. He was raised as a human, and because of that he has the trait that the book uses to DEFINE human beings: free will. At the end, Adam had the AGENCY to reject the destiny planned out for him.
'Adam stood smiling at the two of them, a small figure perfectly poised exactly between Heaven and Hell.
Crowley grabbed Aziraphale's arm. "You know what happened?" he hissed excitedly. "He was left alone! He grew up human! He's not Evil Incarnate or Good Incarnate, he's just… a human incarnate—"'
- (Good Omens, 1990)
That is NOT what happened to Jesus.
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Adam Bond as Jesus in Good Omens (2019)
Like Adam, he was raised as a human -- being a human incarnate was his WHOLE DEAL in Christology. In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was made flesh and dwelt among us... yada yada yada.
UNLIKE, Adam, though, Jesus wasn't able to REJECT his Destiny of Dying Really Horribly and Painfully on the Cross. Narratives in the Bible also made it clear that the Crucifixion was NOT his Will, but that of God's. Like... him begging to be spared from torment but ultimately following God's Will is such an important event entire devotional practices are made out of it.
"39 And he went a little farther, and fell on his face, and prayed, saying, O my Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass from me: nevertheless not as I will, but as thou wilt."
- (Matthew 26: 39, KJV)
We get a glimpse of that in s1ep3 of Good Omens, too:
"JESUS
(muttering through the pain)
Father, please . . . you have to forgive them . . . they don’t know what they are doing . . .
Crowley, in black, comes up next to Aziraphale.
CROWLEY
You’ve come to smirk at the poor bugger, have you?
AZIRAPHALE
Smirk? Me?
CROWLEY
Well, your lot put him on there.
AZIRAPHALE
I am not consulted on policy decisions, Crawley."
- (The Quite Nice and Fairly Accurate Good Omens Script Book, 2018)
SO. Here we have the character of the Christ whose free will and agency had been STRIPPED from him in the guise of a "noble sacrifice." He comes back again on this Earth to fulfill another "inescapable destiny."
Aziraphale and Crowley need to stop him. The solution the Good Omens narrative offers to "inescapable destinies and systems" (both in s1 and s2) is for the character to realize they have the freedom to choose their own fates. It happened with Adam, and it happened with Gabriel, and perhaps it will happen to Jesus.
(At this point my sister frowned and said: "Are you telling me you think Aziraphale and Crowley are going to help Jesus realize he has agency and that him Dying on the Cross for the 'Great Plan' was kinda fucked up actually?" which sounds crazy when you put it like that BUT NEVER SAY NEVER BABIE.)
Because that brings me to my second point: if this all happens, Jesus becomes an AZIRAPHALE parallel.
In the same way Anathema is an Aziraphale parallel and Sergeant Shadwell is an Aziraphale parallel. Here is a character stuck in a suffocating status quo. To save the world, he needs to know he can escape that status quo and decide for himself. In the same way Anathema has to learn how to stop being a descendant or Shadwell to stop being a Witchfinder, or Gabriel to stop being an Archangel, and Adam to stop being an Antichrist, perhaps Jesus has to learn he can stop being... Well, the Christ, as well.
And this, of course, supplements Aziraphale's journey of letting go of the idea of being an idealized vessel of God, so he could finally enjoy the freedom of personhood and choice on Earth, with Crowley.
Or they could turn Jesus into a cackling villain who Aziraphale and Crowley need to kill in season 3, and I'd probably eat that up, too.
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Text
A flock of elephants
Written for the November warm-up round of the @steddieholidaydrabbles
Prompt: Bakery AU
Rated: T
CW: some sexual tension and innuendo
Tags: Baker Steve, Rockstar Eddie
Notes: Can be read as a continuation of this microfic
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“You don't understand how huge a deal this is, Steve,” Dustin says. He’s wiggling in the passenger seat, trying to take in every bit of their surroundings as they pull up to the concert hall. 
Steve huffs and squints at the signs. There's security and fans and staff everywhere and he can feel a headache coming up. 
"A guy asked me to bake a cake, so what? It's literally what I do for a living, nothing-" 
"A guy asked you to-" Dustin sputters. "Excuse me, what did you say? Eddie Munson commissioned you to bake a replica of his world famous Warlock, do you have any- Do you even know who Eddie Munson is?" 
"Of course I know," Steve grouses. "I don't live under a rock." 
"Oh yeah?" Dustin levels him with an unimpressed look. "Name one of his songs." 
"Please," Steve rolls his eyes. "You're blasting that shit on repeat, it's practically seared into my brain. Especially the one about the elephants." 
Dustin stares at him. Steve resists the urge to pinch his nose.
"You know the one! What was it? Flock of Elephants?" 
Dustin crumples into the car seat and slaps both palms to his forehead. "It's A Court of Sycophants, Steve! Oh my God!"
"Synchro-what?" Steve ignores the way his neck prickles and takes a sharp right. "You just made that up. Now help me look for the delivery entrance or we won't have ourselves a deal at all." 
*
Once they find the entrance, it turns out he forgot the ID badge that the label sent, because of fucking course he did. He spends about half an hour trying to convince the grumpy security guard to let them in while Dustin has a complete meltdown. Just as he's ready to give up, they're rescued by the appearance of a tiny blonde in a pink cardigan who cheerfully introduces herself as Eddie’s manager. 
"Sorry about Hop," she says for what must be the fourth time, while Steve sets up the guitar-shaped cake at the center of the buffet and Dustin inspects the backstage lounge with awestruck eyes. "He takes his job very seriously." 
"Yeah, I noticed," Steve mutters. She seems nice enough, but he really doesn’t wanna engage in smalltalk right now. The bustle of the stage hands and the hot air of the venue are making him squeamish. All he wants to do is get this over with and go home.
Unfortunately fate must hate him, because that is the exact moment that a familiar voice says, "Hey, Chris. No matter what Hop tells you, I didn't order hookers to the venue. I dunno where he got the-" 
Dustin starts squealing. 
"Oh my God, you're Eddie Munson!"
Eddie squints at him like a confused cat. 
"Last time I checked, yeah. And you are?" 
"Dustin," says Dustin, like that explains everything. "I'm with Steve." 
Eddie’s eyes flit over and his face breaks into a delighted, dimpled smile. 
"Baker boy, hi!" 
Steve's mouth goes dry. 
He doesn’t know why, but all of the easy confidence of their last meeting is suddenly gone. 
Maybe it's because they were in the bakery, on his own turf, and now they're on Eddie’s, where the lights and the noise and the hum of the crowd in the auditorium are grating on his nerves. 
Maybe it's because last time, Eddie looked like just some guy in his ripped jeans and ratty hoody, unwashed hair piled in a chaotic bun, and now …
… now he's in a pair of leather pants that are so tight they may as well be spray-painted on and what looks like a fucking harness, hair cascading around his face and shoulders in a halo of messy curls and is that eyeliner? 
"Woah," Eddie breathes, eyes growing large, and yup, eyeliner. Definitely eyeliner, Jesus fucking Christ. With two long strides of those impossibly long legs, he's beside Steve and ogling the cake with an awestruck face. "This is fucking incredible, dude, it looks just like the real thing. You did all that from the photos?" 
By some miracle, Steve manages to channel the incoming blush into a sly pop of his hips and a smug eyebrow quirk. 
"Told you I was the best." 
Eddie is looking at him like he didn't bake a cake but hung the moon, which … in combination with the eyeliner and the leather and the harness of it all? Steve squirms in his jeans.
"Okay, erm … if that's all, I'll send over the bill by-" 
"Wait, what? You're not staying for the show?" Eddie swivels to Chrissy, all righteous indignation. "Why are they not staying for the show?" 
Chrissy shrugs, at the same time that Steve says, "That's really not necessa-" 
"We'd love to stay!" 
Dustin shoves himself between them, elbowing him in the kidneys. While Steve is still coughing, Eddie turns to Chrissy. 
"Show the young man to the backstage area, Chris?" 
Dustin looks like he's about to die of happiness, so Steve resigns himself to his fate. 
"Will you play the one about the psychopaths?" he asks as they trail after him. "It's his favorite." 
"Psycho-" Eddie’s brow wrinkles.
"Sycophants, Steve!" Dustin hollers from ahead. "Jesus!" 
"Anyways," Steve says over Eddie’s rumbling laughter. "You really didn't have to-" 
"I know I didn't." Eddie accepts his guitar - the real one - from a stage hand and slings it over his shoulder. "But I saw what you're best at, so I figured I'd return the favor." 
"Careful there," Steve huffs. "All you've done is ogle my cake. You may wanna try it first." 
"Oh, I'm planning to …" Eddie's smile is sharp as he leans in, close to his ear. "Preferably with less people around, though." 
And then he's gone, stepping out on the stage, making his guitar wail. 
Steve can't quite tell if the roar in his ears is the crowd or the sound of his own blood.
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nyoomiin · 1 month
Text
roommates: part one.
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your new roommate is... odd, and recently, so are your dreams. still, despite the secrecy, the mystery, and his ice cold exterior, you have the feeling you'd waltz right into love with him. (maybe you already have before.)
pairing. scaramouche x gn!reader
tags. no warnings, slice of life, fluff, slowburn, friends to lovers, reincarnation au, post irminsul erasure
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masterlist. next.
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Needle and thread in your hands, a hum dancing under your breath. A bell chimes as a door swings open, and two hushed, urgent voices can be heard. You look up from your sewing.
One, a brunet with a charming grin, and the other, partially hidden behind him. It catches your eye — those violet eyes brimming with curiosity, meekly peeking through long hair, blue as the wine-dark sea. You’re struck with a faint surprise, then a surging sense of excitement.
“Archons, you’re perfect,” someone breathes.
It’s you.
You awaken, mood tinged with a secondhand embarrassment you can't quite place. Stretching as you clamber out of bed, you try to recall the dream you just had.
It's futile. It drifts away.
You're excited to meet your new roommate.
Your previous one had left after he got his own house, so you've had the place all to yourself for the past few months. Frankly it was getting lonely, as peaceful as it was. The "rooms” your landlord rented out were more like apartments, really, with two bedrooms, a bathroom, a living room and a kitchen.
You hope you get along with them, whoever they are. They'd be arriving today, you think. You wonder if they like soup.
Just then, you hear clinking keys, and the front door swinging open. Standing eagerly, you rush to greet your housemate, nervous and delighted all the same. You turn the corner to look, and —
— “Archons, you’re gorgeous,” you breathe.
Sharp-eyed and porcelain skin, a slender build and hair a royal blue — not to mention the way his outfit brought out everything good in him to a tee — white, and blue and utterly angelic. You only realise you’ve said something completely out of pocket when you notice the expression on his face.
You blink.
He doesn’t.
… Whoops?
“Hi! It’s so nice to meet you,” you say cheerily, introducing yourself. You decide never to think about how absolutely horrendous your first impression must be ever again. “Do you need help moving your things? I made soup for dinner — do you want some?”
He shoots you the most disgusted look you’ve ever seen. “Where is my room?”
“Oh! Ehm, it’s the door furthest down the hall, and the bathroom’s the one closest to the living room.”
Saying nothing more, he brushes past you brusquely. Seconds later, a door slams shut with a resounding thud.
You frown, huffing. What a cold guy. Still, did he have to react like that…? Maybe he was shy, or something. Your… blunt comment would’ve caught anyone off guard. Anyway, pretty people are always difficult at the start, you think, reminded of how unapproachable you believed Alhaitham to be before you had befriended him.
Well, you’d just have to try again another time.
Knocking on his door, you call, “I left you some soup in case you get hungry later. Remember to heat it up before you eat.”
You don’t get a response, but you can hear his shuffling footsteps, and you decide that was enough for now.
( Inside, the wanderer curses everyone and the gods above.
To ‘rehabilitate him into society’, Nahida had basically forced him into… whatever this arrangement was. Now, he had to deal with you too?
You knock on the door then, and he stiffens.
“I left you some soup in case you get hungry later,” you say. “Remember to heat it up before you eat.”
He scoffs. Truly, what a fate worse than death. He’d find a new place to stay as soon as possible. The past was no more, and thus there was no longer a reason for your life to be entangled with his.
His heart thuds a slow, steady beat. It's a sensation he has yet to get used to.
Unwilling as he may be, he wonders if your soup still tastes the same as it did all those years ago. )
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