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#i’ve been trying to write this chapter for two weeks
catladyoftheyr · 2 days
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Too Sweet (Ch 3)
Harvey x Reader
Ch 1 ~ Ch 2
Summary: picking up off last chapters cliffhanger and diving straight into Harvey’s 4 heart event. You resolve the conflict after the incident with George, Harvey gives you a checkup, and you two share a jar of pickles in his apartment. 💘🥒
Authors note: I know nothing about the Air Force I’m so sorry. It’s just for the plot and vibes. He needed a backstory!!
Word count: 1.7k! A longer chapter as a treat
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“Harvey! Oh my god why are you here? Wait, no, I don’t mean it like that” the surprise visit from the doctor had you stumbling over your words. “You scared me. And I don’t actually think your mustache is stupid. I just… I was really embarrassed about what happened earlier.”
“I actually stopped by to thank you for backing me up earlier. George can be stubborn, so I’m glad you got him to listen to you.” The doctor averted eye contact and stuffed his hands in his pockets. “Do you mind if I join you?”
“Oh uhhh, sure. How much of what I said did you hear by the way?” You hoped silently that he hadn’t heard you call him cute, especially since you’d been talking to a chicken.Harvey slid down and sat next to you on the floor of the coop.
“Just the part where you insulted my mustache,” he replied, stroking his own facial hair. “The farm is coming along nicely. You must be very dedicated to make such a turn around in such a short time.”
Oh thank Yoba you thought to yourself. “Thank you. I guess I’m trying to make up for lost time; I want to honor Grandpa’s memory because he loved this farm and the community. I used to spend a couple weeks here in the summer when I was growing up. I haven’t been back to the valley since I was a teenager. I didn’t think Lewis would recognize me when I came back.” You laughed quietly, an image of you as a gawky adolescent with braces coming back to you
“About earlier, we can put that behind us if you’d like. I didn’t mean to be short with you either. I was startled so I apologize for being curt.” Harvey looked at you with a kind expression before rising from the floor. “I’d like for us to be on good terms going forward.” He extended his hand and helped you up.
———————————————————————————
The bell on the door chimed as you walked in and Harvey’s head poked up from his paperwork. “Hey! Just the person I wanted to see today actually.”
“Oh?”
“I was about to write you a letter recommending that you schedule your annual checkup. If you don’t mind, I’ve got time today actually for a cursory exam.” Truthfully you weren’t very fond of hospitals, or doctor’s appointments. But you were also a terrible liar and had no time to think of an excuse. Better just to get it over with, you supposed.
“I can make it work.” You set the jar of pickles aside temporarily and followed Harvey to an exam room. You sat down on the paper, uncomfortable with the sudden formal shift in your dynamic. You’d gone from friend to patient in a matter of minutes. Harvey placed his stethoscope just under the collar of your shirt and you flinched at the touch of the cold metal.
“Sorry it’s chilly,” Harvey said. “Your heart rate is a little high. Do hospitals make you nervous?” He asked with a slight furrow in his brow.
“A little bit” you admitted. It certainly didn’t help that this was the most physical contact the two of you had shared since you met. He placed his hand on your shoulder and your eyes met. You felt your palms start sweating.
“Take a deep breath for me please” you did as instructed and tried to focus on anything else but the feeling of his hand on you. “Your lungs sound strong.” Harvey was in his element as he checked off the boxes of a routine checkup. He tested your reflexes, examined your ears and eyes, writing down his observations on his clipboard. “So far you seem to be in good health. I just have a few more questions about your lifestyle”
“Ask away, Doc.” Harvey seemed slightly flustered at the nickname but made a quick recovery. He pushed his glasses back up his nose and stood up straighter, clearing his throat
“As I was saying. Working on the farm involves a fair amount of physical labor I assume, so I’m sure you get enough exercise. What do you usually eat in a day?”
“Oh I usually just eat the foragables I find around the valley. There’s a lot of leeks and wild onions out now. I saw a weird looking berry the other day and I ate a couple of those. Sometimes I eat eggs from the chickens, or buy something from Gus for dinner.” Harvey was visibly stressed as he absorbed the information you gave him.
“I would highly advise that you eat a more balanced diet. Foraging is fine as a snack but it won’t provide enough energy for your activity levels. Eggs are good, but I’d implore you to try and eat from all the food groups”
“So this probably isn’t a great time to say I also eat the algae I find in the mines?” You’d never seen the poor doctor so stressed; you imagined most of his patients weren’t quite as odd as you.
“Let’s move on. How much sleep do you get at night?”
“6ish, sometimes less, sometimes more”
“Well, 8 hours a night is recommended but 6 isn’t terrible I suppose. But I’d encourage you to try and find a healthier routine. Farming is labor intensive and if you don’t give your body the care it needs you won’t be able to keep up sooner or later.” He had a look of genuine worry in his eyes and it pulled at your heartstrings. You’d only known each other for several months, but you sensed the beginning of a deep connection.
“I’ll try to be better,” you replied softly. You weren’t used to being chastised, but you understood he meant well.
“Thank you. You’re free to go and have an official clean bill of health from me”
“Well I stopped by to ask a favor actually”
“Oh?”
“I was wondering if you’d do me the honors of being the very first taste tester of my first batch of farm fresh pickles” you grinned and gestured toward the door “I left them on the counter.” Harvey smiled back and held the door open for you.
“I’d be honored. I’m actually about to close up for the day, would you like to come upstairs?”
The two of you headed upstairs to the small apartment above the clinic. Furniture was sparse and well loved, and there was a small kitchenette off the main room. The back wall held a large bookshelf that boasted an assortment of books and some small trinkets. Another shelf was lined carefully with model planes. There was a radio station in the corner by the window. “It’s not much, but it’s home,” Harvey said sheepishly.
“It’s great” you replied, eyes scanning the room with eagerness. You were itching to learn more about him. You took a seat on his small sofa, your heart nearly skipping a beat when he sat next to you, his knee inches away from yours. “You can have the first one” you offered, extending the open pickle jar toward Harvey.
“Don’t mind if I do.” Harvey reached in and plucked out a particularly large pickle before biting into it. His eyes lit up as he tasted it. “This is delicious! You’ve really never made pickles before?” You shook your head. “Well you certainly have a knack for it.” You grabbed a pickle for yourself and were pleasantly surprised at how good they were. You were glad he wasn’t lying to spare your feelings.
“What’s with the planes?” You saw Harvey get a far off look on his face while he thought about his response
“I’ve always been fascinated by aviation. I did a stint in the Air Force years ago. I wanted to become a pilot but it didn’t pan out. It ended up paying for my med school tuition though. The model planes are something I like to do in my free time. I find them relaxing, and they remind me of my time in service.”
“I would have never guessed that. Pilots and doctors are pretty different. What led you down this path?”
“I think I’ve always had an affinity for helping people. I joined the Air Force to serve my country; this feels like a way to serve the community in a different way.”
“That’s actually really selfless.” You toyed with images of Harvey in uniform as you reached for another pickle, not realizing that Harvey had the same idea. Your hands met in the rim of the jar and you flinched back instinctively. The small touch left you wanting more. You adjusted your legs slightly, tentatively letting one fall against his. Harvey made no effort to break contact.
“Tell me more about yourself. You said you explore the mines. Are there really monsters in there?”
“There are! I haven’t made it down very far but there’s all kinds of creatures down there.” You animatedly described the things you’d encountered on your adventures: colorful slimes, stealthy rock crabs, large buzzing insects, agile bats and more. Harvey looked on with a mixture of awe and fear.
His voice grew soft as he spoke “please be careful in the mines. I’d hate to see you get hurt.” Suddenly it was as if a switch had gone off in his mind and he got up from the couch. “Wait here one second!” He bolted across the studio and down the stairs. You heard rummaging from below before Harvey emerged again holding an armful of various medicines and first aid supplies. “Take these.” He thrusted the bundle of supplies into your arms.
“Harvey I can’t just take these from you. These are expensive” you insisted, trying to hand them back to him. A roll of gauze unraveled on the floor. Harvey plucked it from the ground and placed it on a table.
“Nonsense. Consider it part of your checkup.” He looked you in the eyes with a pleading expression. “Please take them. And promise me you’ll keep them with you in the mines”
“I promise.”
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x-pair-o-dice-x · 11 months
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ask game!!! i gotta catch up on ur stuff but for now ,,,
1, and 2 for risks and hugs
shouldn’t be too hard to catch up, haven’t written anything in a while,, dkdndkdnkd
answered one here!
2 — Which scene was your favorite to write in Risks and Hugs?
ooooooo….. so far, i think my favorite scene is in chapter three, when ranboo almost gets “found”. he thinks, by some dumb luck, that he managed to avoid getting seen by the human— little does he know, not only did techno see him, but he’s known about him for days.
that being said… i am very excited for chapter four….. i think you guys can guess what happens next ^v^.
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terrainofheartfelt · 1 year
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What was the whole Dan being one of the seven dwarfs and Blair being snow white all about in one of your fics?
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I’ll admit I am very tired, but I do not remember the fic to which you are referring. Can I ask for a title/chapter citation?
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celestie0 · 3 months
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gojo satoru x reader | college au [18+]
kickoff ch.6 devil's advocate
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ᰔ pairing. college au - soccer player! gojo x film major! reader (f)
ᰔ summary. gojo satoru is the most popular guy on your college campus. he's tall, funny, hot, not to mention he's the most talented soccer forward the school has seen in years. but he's also a frat dude, which puts him in a world very different from your own, as he spends most of his nights partying & drinking while you spend most of yours working on your annoying film major assignments. but when he reaches out to you for a favor, you realize that helping him out might have something in it for you too.
ᰔ warnings/tags. 18+, fluff, angst, smut, college au, fraternities, sororities, partying, drinking/alcohol, mentions of weed, romance, jealousy, pining, slow burn, opposites to lovers, friends to lovers, she falls first he falls harder, gojo being an idiot
ᰔ chapter. 6/x (probably 12)
ᰔ words. 10.7k
a/n. so sorry for the wait! i'm really excited for this chapter, it's one that i've been waiting for since before i even started the series, and it was a lot of fun to write. i hope you enjoooy <3 if there are typos, your mind is just playing tricks on you
nav. ch1 :: ch2 :: ch3 :: ch4 :: ch5 :: ch6 :: ch7 :: ch8 :: ch9 :: ch10 (pending)
☾·̩͙꙳ moodboard no.1
♬.*゚playlist
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Life after realizing you had feelings for Gojo Satoru seemed to pass by in slow-motion, as you spent a significant portion of the day consumed by thoughts of him. Although it was against your better judgment, it was nice to have your mind occupied by something that wasn’t career stress, school stress, or financial stress. It’s been a minute since you’ve felt this way about someone, and it was healthy to indulge in some escapism, right? 
You find yourself scrolling through his Instagram page for the second third time today, captivated by the attractive photos of him in his soccer uniform, kicking at the ball with a determined look on his face. Your gaze fixates on the blue follow-back button staring back at you on his page, remembering that you still haven’t followed him back. Pulling your phone away from your line of sight, you glance up at the ceiling, take a deep breath, and swiftly tap the blue button. You clutch your phone to your chest right after, surprised by the butterflies in your stomach, but it’s only ten seconds before you’re back to perusing his photos. 
You sigh dreamily from where you were laid back on your bed. Mina looks up at you from her desk with an irritated expression on her face. 
“What’s with the dreamy sighing every thirty seconds? I’m trying to study here,” she says to you.
You throw her a look. “Oh please, I’ve had to deal with your dreamy sighs every single time you were on the phone with Todo for the past two weeks. You can handle a few of mine.”
Mina’s eyes widen at your words and she turns in her chair to look at you intently. “Wait…who are you dreamily sighing for?”
You blink in response. “Oh, uh. No one? I mean, what’s that one actor’s name–the one in that show we were watching?” You tap your finger to your lip, pretending to be in deep thought, but Mina wasn’t buying any of it since she promptly stood up from her chair and snatched your phone out of your hand. You yelp and sit up on your bed to try and grab it back from her but she has that I was the eldest sibling in my household grip on your phone. 
“Is this…Gojo Satoru’s Instagram page?” she asks, extending your phone out in front of her and tilting her head to the side at the screen, as though she was trying to wrap her head around it.
“Stop! You’ll accidentally tap on something,” you’re squealing at her, arms flailing out in an attempt to grab at your phone. She eventually hands it back to you and you’re sighing with relief before flopping back down onto your bed, fingers eagerly swiping up on the screen to make sure she didn’t accidentally like one of his posts from four months ago. 
“Are you crushing on Gojo Satoru?” Mina asks with her hands on her hips.
You meet her gaze with a hint of guilt. You haven’t kept Mina up-to-speed on a lot of the things that have happened within the past three weeks, including the night last week when Gojo stayed with you out on the road after you got your flat tire and then kissed you. It’s been about five days since then, and you feel that if you fessed up now, she’d be mad that you didn’t tell her right away. 
“I’m…” you start as you look at her and she raises an eyebrow at you that makes you sheepishly sit up on your bed, pretty much kneeling in front of her. “Maybe. A little bit? I don’t know.”
She looks at you with surprise before walking backwards and sitting onto her bed, facing you. She presses her lips together, deep in thought, and there’s an almost concerned expression on her face. “When did this develop?”
You end up explaining pretty much everything that has happened between you and Gojo as of recently, her face staying neutral through even the most surprising details, and by the time you’re done explaining and waiting for her to give a response, you realize you’re tensing your shoulders and holding your breath.
She sighs, sulking a little and her bed frame creaks underneath the mattress. “I can’t believe you kissed Gojo Satoru and you didn’t tell me about it, like, practically the second after it happened. Also, you never told me that’s why you called me that night! It makes sense now why your car has been in ‘service’ for almost an entire week. I feel so horrible you went through that and I wasn’t there for you.”
“It’s okay,” you assure her with a small smile. “I’m fine. It was really nerve-wracking in the moment,” you say as you glance down at your hands, twiddling with your thumbs as the memories of that night flash through your mind. “But having him there really helped calm me down,” you admit in a hushed tone. When you look up at Mina, she wears a soft and knowing expression on her face.
“That’s good, I’m glad,” she murmurs and returns your smile with one of her own, but her eyes still look at you with caution.
“What’s wrong?” you ask. 
“Nothing’s wrong, it’s just I don’t really know Gojo that well. From what you’re telling me, he seems like a nice guy,” she comments, “but the fact he’s been really diligent in following-through with this whole film photography assignment of yours makes me wonder where his head’s at with you.” She finishes her sentence, but you continue to watch her since you could tell she had more on her tongue. “I just hope he’s not messing with you.” 
“Messing with me?” you ask her. There’s a part of you deep inside that’s wondering the same thing, but the thought of having to confront that feeling in order to get an answer makes you want to stay in blissful ignorance instead. 
She worries her bottom lip between her teeth and looks at you for a few seconds. “Maybe I’m overthinking it. It’s just a crush, right?” Her phone chimes with an alarm noise and she grabs it to turn it off. “Oh shoot, I’m going to be late for class,” she groans, leaping up off of her bed and stuffing all of her things on her desk into her bag. She gives you a goodbye over her shoulder just before she heads out of your shared room and then you’re all by yourself. 
Mina’s last question to you hangs in the air. You didn’t really know how you would’ve answered, because you didn’t know what you expected to come from your feelings, if anything at all. You’ve had feelings for plenty of other guys before, some turning into something more and others turning into nothing at all. Having feelings for someone wasn’t really something to worry about or complicate. 
You lay back down onto your bed with a sigh and go to the messages on your phone, clicking on Gojo’s name. It was so bizarre that he was now in your list of actual text messages since you had his number now, but the two of you have only exchanged a few texts since that night you last saw him. He sent over his practice schedule for the week, which was pretty packed and busy since their big game on the 28th was in just two days, and when you zoom in on the picture you see that he has practice in about ten minutes from now. You assumed that since he never texted you about it, they were probably just doing drills out on the field or some other exercises. But you missed him, and you wished that you did have an excuse to visit him. You didn’t care about tweaking your camera angles, fixing the exposure, or trying out different light sensitivities for your photos so they come out immaculate. You just wanted to see him again.
Tossing your phone to your side, suddenly frustrated by how mentally drained you feel, you look around the room and decide to tidy up a bit to distract yourself from all your emotions. As you start to pick things up off your desk and place them back on the shelf, you notice that you still have a netted bag full of washed laundry to fold. You dump all of the clothing onto your bed, consisting of sports bras, multiple pairs of jeans, your nice panties and also your grandma undies. One of the articles of clothing catches your eye, and you pull it out from the pile. It was Gojo’s jacket. 
Your heart skips a beat in your chest as you take in the sight of it, all the memories of that night flashing back into your head. You remember the chill of the air, the deep sound of his voice beside you, the gentle look in his eyes, his lips pressed against yours. Gojo had kissed you, so that had to have meant something, right? Maybe it was a spur of the moment thing, an emotional decision because the two of you were alone, and it was dark, and it was cold, and you two were reveling in each other’s warmth, but it was still something he initiated. It was so brief, the moment cut so tragically short that you still find yourself craving more despite the fact it happened almost a week ago. Mina wasn’t home that night, and instead of spending the rest of it curled up by yourself like you ended up doing, you could’ve easily invited him inside. You wonder if he would’ve taken you up on the offer, and how far you two would’ve gone. And now, because you were imaging it, you find it in your heart that you wanted it. Before you know it, those feelings you swore you wouldn’t complicate started to feel complicated. If all the novels, movies, poems, and folklore of this world have been any indicator, when it comes to matters of the heart, it’s always impossible to defy. 
You bring the jacket to your chest, the fabric now smelling like the laundry detergent that all of your other clothes smell like, and no longer of him. It was the polite thing to do to wash it, but the absence of his scent on the soft material just made you miss him even more. 
Closing your eyes in disbelief at the thought that crosses your mind, you resolve to act now and deal with whatever comes later. If you wanted to see him, you were going to see him. Besides, wanting to hand his jacket back to him wasn’t so bad of an excuse to drop by, right? What if it was a deeply sentimental article of clothing that is agonizing for him to be apart from? (a/n. he doesn’t even realize you still have it lol)
You grab your tote bag as well as his jacket and head out of your apartment, down to the ground floor, and walk down the street until you reach the bus stop that takes you to campus. You make it there in about forty minutes, the bus dropping you off near the central area. As you start walking towards the expensive art sculpture near the practice fields, you pass by the school’s mini convenience store and the bottles of strawberry vanilla soda splayed out in the display case catches your eye. You then find yourself inside buying two cans. One for him, one for you. Maybe he’ll be open to hanging out after practice, and you could properly treat him to something nice for all of his help. 
Soon enough, you’re walking across the grassy hills that lead to the field. It was a slightly gloomy day today, with the sun only peaking through the clouds every five minutes or so, but it was still beautiful and something about the fresh air made your chest swell with ease. Just as you get closer, you notice Geto and Nanami walking together in your direction.
“Oh, it’s y/n!” you hear Geto say when you approach them.
You greet the two of them with a smile. “Hello, it’s nice to see you two. Are you finished with practice?”
“No, we’ve still got about two hours left, but we just finished a pretty intense set of drills so coach is giving us a fifteen,” Geto says through strained breathing, and you finally notice that the two of them looked sweaty and spent. “What’s that in your arms?”
You look down at the strawberry vanilla sodas you were carrying and then back up at the two of them. “Oh…I just wanted to bring some soda for mr. center forward, as a thanks for getting me referee permission to be on-field on Thursday.” 
Nanami crosses his arms across his chest and Geto’s eyes widen. “Damn, wish I had a cute girl go out of her way to bring me strawberry-flavored soda mid practice,” Geto muses.
“I don’t think Satoru deserves this level of kindness, y/n,” Nanami tells you with a shake of his head. Geto looks over at him with a wry expression before letting out a small laugh. 
You give the two of them a smile. “No, really, he’s been helpful. Is he out on the field?” you ask, standing on tiptoes to try and peer over their shoulders towards the field.
“Yeah, he is, I think he stayed back since Coach Yaga was yelling at him about something,” Geto answers and he takes a glance at his watch, “he usually doesn’t stick around to take the lecturing for longer than two minutes so he’s probably somewhere hanging around nearby.” 
“That’s good. Coach Yaga scares me,” you admit to the two of them, pretending to shiver at the thought of him yelling, and this earns a smile from Nanami. 
“He’s really not that scary of a guy, just pretends to be one,” Geto informs you then lets out an exhale and places his hands on his hips after fully regaining his breath. “So, you’re going to be on the field with us on Thursday? That’s awesome, please cheer for us. Also, you should come out to the house party the night before the game.”
You raise an eyebrow at him. “You guys still party before your big games?”
Geto laughs. “I always forget you’re not in a sorority. Yeah, we do, I think the frat just wants an excuse to go crazy and picks our game schedule to go off of. You’ve no idea how many of our players have been in massive shit by showing up hungover to games.” 
Nanami lets out a disgruntled noise. “It’s irresponsible, honestly.”
You give an apologetic laugh before fidgeting with the soda cans in your arms, eventually throwing them into your tote, and then peering over their shoulders once more as an impatient feeling washes over you, the desire from earlier to see Gojo consuming you in a way that was entirely distracting. Nanami seems to notice this as he uncrosses his arms and slightly nudges Geto with his elbow. Geto sends him a curious glance before looking back at you.
“Well, anyway. If you’re free tomorrow night, come by. Pre-game parties are usually pretty hype. Yuuji’s bouncing, so he’ll let you in,” Geto says to you, giving you a kind smile.
“Yeah, I’ll try to make it,” you say, returning his smile. The two of them walk past you and you continue to trek forwards until you reach the large hill that oversees the field. 
Once you’re at the top, your eyes immediately scan the field for Gojo, and you quickly spot him at the foot of the hill talking to some people. You notice the group surrounding him weren’t wearing athletic clothing of any sort, so you assumed they were just his friends. He had a bright smile on his face and just the sight of it created a warmth within you. As you begin to stumble down the hill, your legs hasty in their stride, you see him leaning down forward towards one of the girls in the group with a playful look on his face. The girl looks up at him with a tilt of her head and you hear feminine, high-pitched laughter in the air as she steps closer to him, swatting at his chest from something he says. He’s fully grinning at her now, and it’s so painfully obvious they’re flirting that the feeling in your chest that was so excited to see him quickly turns sour. 
He somehow catches you standing at the bottom of the hill in his periphery and his eyes widen. There’s a moment where you hesitate, but eventually take a deep breath and make your way through the crowd. A few within the group let out confused noises from the disruption and then you were standing right in front of Gojo. 
“Who’s this?” one of his friends asks, particularly annoyed since you had accidentally nudged him to the side in your stride. You could feel the wide eyes from the men and the curious glares from the women. 
Gojo’s standing there shocked, likely from the fact that he wasn’t expecting you to be here, and then glances around to the people in the group. “Oh, just someone I…” he starts, his facial expression softening slightly when he looks back at you, but you’re giving him a guarded expression, “...know.” 
Your mouth opens slightly in disbelief, before you quickly close it. It’s true that you didn’t really know what you and Gojo were at the moment, it’s possible you would’ve answered the same, but his description of the nature of your relationship with him still hurts. He could’ve at least said your name or introduced you. And your disappointment from his words made you realize an unsettling truth, which was that you did want more from him, and you weren’t sure if that was something he was interested in at all. 
The girl he was talking to earlier is glaring daggers at your side, and you suddenly feel suffocated surrounded by a group of people watching you with interest. The man in front of you, despite getting to know him for the better part of the past three weeks, started to feel like a stranger to you all over again. You shove his jacket to his chest, and he looks down at it with surprise before hesitantly grabbing onto it. 
“Just wanted to return your jacket,” you mumble to him, trying so hard to sound neutral and sane. “I washed it for you.”
You hear a few of the men surrounding you coo something suggestive, a few laughs making their way between them as the women in the group scoff in denial. You ignore them and keep your gaze on Gojo. He’s looking straight down at you and scanning your features, and you notice his face briefly contorts into one of guilt when he registers the disappointed look on your face. 
Reaching into your bag, you pause when you see the two cans of strawberry vanilla soda sitting at the bottom, the smiling cartoon mascot faces on the labeling staring up at you like some pitiful conscience. You reached in and grabbed one regardless, then extended it to Gojo. He blinks at it before looking up at you. When he doesn’t immediately grab it, you also shove it to his chest until he does. When his fingertips make contact with your hand as he takes it from you, the contact sends a shiver down your spine. 
You bite your lip, faltering before you speak again. “For your help. Officially even now.” Then you turn around and push through the strangers spectating the whole scene to make it over to the grassy hills. You vaguely hear Gojo call your name out from behind you, his voice quickly drowned out by the voices of those surrounding him as they continue conversation, and soon enough you’re out of sight over the hill. 
“So, you’re telling me that this guy goes out of his way to help you for this class assignment, in a way that’s unproportionate to the favor that you put in for him, he flirtatiously teases you any chance he gets, drives out late at night to stay with you when you’re stranded with a flat, has an earnest conversation with you about life, kisses you, diligently takes care of you until you’re home safe, and then when you run into him in front of his friends, he says you’re just someone he knows?” Mina’s recounting every single painful detail as she paces around in your shared room. “I know you both haven’t had a conversation about anything after that night, which is insane because you should’ve, but at least he could’ve said you were a friend?” 
You scoff from where you’re laid down on your bed. “I caught him sliding his hands up a girl’s top in the bathroom at that SAE party last week, and when he tried to explain the situation to me he said that he and that girl are just friends. So, by his definition, we’re definitely not friends.”
Mina sighs. “Honestly, y/n, I know he’s charming and he’s been nice to you, but he still has a reputation for being a player.” 
You look up at the ceiling, your pillow clutched in your arms for emotional support. “He almost looked like he didn’t even want me there. Like I was an unwelcome interruption. Some sort of nuisance.” You weren’t sure exactly how to read the expression he had on his face from your unexpected visit, but your brain had a habit of settling on the worst. 
Mina sits down at her desk, turning her chair to face you. You were fully sulking like a heart-broken teenager and you didn’t understand why. He wasn’t any sort of title to you, and you haven’t even known him for that long. Barely a couple weeks ago, you were still resolved to the fact that he was some sort of mystery. An urban legend around campus that you couldn’t believe you were talking to because people like him didn’t usually talk to people like you. 
“Why don’t you just ask him how he feels about you? Put an end to the guessing game. Be like ‘hey, jerk, I know it’s common-place for frat dudes to kiss girls like they’re a dime a dozen. But that’s not gonna fly with me, so fess up on your intentions’. Something like that,” Mina suggests, waving a finger in the air.
You glance at her annoyed. “Were you trying to do an impression of me? I don’t talk like that.”
“You kind of do, love,” she says with a smile on her face. 
You look back up at the ceiling. “...I don’t want to have that conversation with him. It’ll hurt my pride. He should’ve been the one asking me what we are now, since he’s the one that kissed me.” You turn to gauge her opinion at your words, but her expression isn’t giving any hints. “Is that petty? I feel like I’m being petty.”
“No, girl, I agree with you,” she says with a sigh, “that’s how it should be, but almost never ends up being the case.” She looks up at the ceiling briefly, a thought forming in her head, before looking down at you with a sly smile. 
“What?” you ask, already wearily anticipating her response.
“You want to know how to find out how he feels about you without asking him how he feels about you?” she says like it was some sort of sales pitch.
You turn onto your side and perch yourself up on your elbow, a little too interested. “How?”
She snaps her fingers. “Make him jealous.”
You look at her apprehensively. “Jealous?”
“I mean, that’s the foolproof way to tell how a guy really feels about you. Based on how he reacts when he sees another guy’s tongue shoved down your throat,” she says with a playful shrug.
You flop down on the bed again. “Now that’s petty.” You hug your pillow to your chest again, considering the option. You didn’t even know if Gojo would feel jealous if you tried to make him jealous, it’s possible he wouldn’t even care at all if he saw you with another guy. 
“Yes, petty, but so what? We’re seniors in college, now’s our last chance to be petty. After we graduate, we’ve got to be fully functioning members of society,” she sighs, “you only get to be a petty college chick once.”
“How would I make him jealous?” you ask, still dwelling on her suggestion.
“Well, SAE is having that pre-game party tonight, he’s definitely going to be there. It’s your chance,” she says, tapping at her phone to glance at the time. 
You hum to yourself. The mature part of you is telling you that it’s a ridiculous idea, but the angel on your shoulder that has weathered the pain of all your confusing feelings as of lately was starting to play devil’s advocate. After a minute’s silence, you cover your face with your hand and groan. “Oh god.”
Mina looks up at you again. “What?”
“I’m gonna do it,” you say, swinging your feet over to the edge of the bed so you’re sitting up, pillow still hugged to your chest as you look at her. “I’m going to go find out how he really feels about me.”
Mina’s smiling at you and hops onto her feet. “Finally. I’ve been waiting for the toxic version of you to make her appearance.”
There was still a couple of hours before the party, so you take a shower and spend some time doing your hair as well as makeup. Wearing your robe, you walk over to your dresser and open it to pull out a pair of jeans when Mina looks over at you and sighs. You send her a look and she makes her way over to you, nudging you to the side with her hip and shoving your jeans back into the drawer.
“You’re not wearing jeans to this party,” she groans, “do I seriously have to teach you everything?” Mina starts shifting through the clothes you had hung up on your hangers, eyes landing on something that was tucked away to the side. She pulls out your black dress, the one that had long, skin tight sleeves with a sweetheart neckline and the short hem that barely fell to the middle of your thighs. She pats at the soft and silky material, pulling on it in an attempt to smooth out one of the wrinkles. “Oh, yes, honey. This will definitely do.”
“It’s wrinkled,” you say in a poor attempt to get out of wearing it. 
“Nothing my straightener set at 350 degrees won’t fix,” she says to you with a wink.
It takes Mina three minutes to prepare your dress for you while you anxiously pace around the room, fidgeting to yourself, and she eventually hands it to you to wear. The dress had an A-line silhouette cinched at the waist and the top half was tight, so you decided not to wear a bra with it. Just as you’re about to pull on a pair of biker shorts underneath to cover a bit more since the short fabric was hardly doing much, Mina sends you another disappointed look. 
“y/n, please, you’re killing me here,” she says. “To make him jealous, you’ve gotta get other guys to look at you. That might mean being a bit risque with the attire tonight.”
You sulk your shoulders before sighing and tossing your biker shorts back into your closet. You turn around to face the mirror, petting down the fabric of your dress over you and tousling with your hair before gasping a little as you take in your entire appearance. You looked good, and Mina’s playful cat-call from behind you only gave you a greater kick of confidence. 
“Love it, cute but sexy at the same time,” she says with a smile. “It’s your turn to be the hottie at the party.”
You two decide to take an Uber to the frat strip, arriving at the host house close to 10pm, and you can already hear the loud chanting and music inside. As you make your way up to the driveway, a gust of wind breezes by and your hands immediately hold down the fabric of your dress in an attempt to not flash the group of people walking behind the two of you. Mina looks over at you with a mischievous smile. You make eye contact with Yuuji at the entrance and he straightens his posture when he sees you and Mina approaching.
“Hello, ladies. I see we’ve switched roles here tonight,” Yuuji says with a tip of his head. “Bombshell friend,” he gestures to you, “and-”
“If you call me a casual tomboy, I can’t guarantee I won’t smack you,” Mina says to him.
Yuuji blinks at her. “Head on in,” he mumbles and you two walk past him.
It hits you as you walk inside that this is the third SAE party that you’ve been to within the past three weeks, and yet the atmosphere still surprises you every time. The music was loud, but at this one, the people chanting was even louder. You notice there were posters and flags with the school’s colors and symbols plastered up and hanging from the staircase, as well as pinned up jerseys on the walls that looked a lot like the ones that the soccer players wear during matches. Oh, and derogatory insults for the opposing school were drawn across all the decorations.
“I’m going to go find Todo,” Mina says to you with excitement and then she’s skipping off into the heart of the party, leaving you alone.
You sigh and fidget with the sleeves of your dress, looking around the party, your heart beating fast in your chest at the prospect that you’ll lock eyes with Gojo but you don’t see him anywhere. As you walk inside, you notice that people are looking at you, and when you make eye contact with some, you notice a lot of them were men, and the attention has you itching for a drink. You quickly make your way into the kitchen and are satisfied when you see the insane amount of options that you can reach for on the island. You grab a White Claw, crack the can open and when you turn around, you jump a little from the sight of a person in front of you.
“Woah, sorry, didn’t mean to scare you,” the man in front of you says with an apologetic look on his face, and you recognize him as the one that was bouncing the last SAE party that you went to last weekend. “Just going to reach around you to grab…that.” He reaches around you to grab an entire bottle of tequila, his arm brushing against yours and his eyes meet yours with a smile on his face. “I remember you from last week. You’re stunning by the way, what’s your name?”
You tell him and he’s nodding his head slowly, a cheeky look on his face that you’re used to seeing when guys attempt small talk to distract from the other less-than-innocent things they have floating around in their heads. “Nice, I’m Ryota,” he says as he adjusts the snap-back he was wearing on his head, “you, uh, in a sorority?” He leans back against the kitchen counter in front of you and you wonder if grabbing the tequila was just an excuse to talk to you.
You find yourself turning away from him slightly, taking a huge gulp of the White Claw you had in your hands to realize that 8% ALC./VOL was not going to be enough to get you through the night, so you turned to face him again. “No, I’m not. Are you going to drink all that tequila by yourself or are you looking to share?”
He smirks at you. “There’s enough for two.” 
You and this man you met literally two minutes ago cheers a few shots, throwing them back, and you notice that he does them almost effortlessly while you’re wincing from the fact that it’s been a long time since you’ve had hard liquor. He’s chuckling at your reactions as your face scrunches up from your third shot and you wave your hand in front of your face from the burn. A few people that walk in and out of the kitchen periodically give the two of you amused looks before walking back out into the loud party nearby. 
“Can’t handle your alcohol?” Ryota asks and you sigh, your face already feeling flushed.
“I can, I swear,” you whine.
“Here, wanna?” he says to you as he hands you another shot and then he holds his outstretched arm up. You think he’s trying to cheers, so you tap his shot glass, and then he’s laughing. “No, hold your arm out.” You do as he says and he holds his arm against yours and soon enough he’s taking a step closer to you and you’re interlocking your arms at the elbow. You let out a small gasp from his proximity but his eyes on you are unwavering. He brings his shot glass to his lips and you do the same and then you both tip your heads back, the burn in your throat making you unwind your arm from him and shake your head until you’re leaning back against the island counter and you hear him laugh again in front of you.
“Y/n?” a familiar voice calls out that instantly sobers you up from the four shots of tequila you so valiantly threw back. 
The two of you turn your heads to look at the source of the voice, and you see Gojo standing at the entrance of the kitchen. Your breath catches in your throat at the sight of him and you feel your heart skip a beat in your chest, still so shocked at just how breathtaking he was anytime you saw him. He was holding an empty bottle of alcohol in his hands. You straighten your posture but Ryota still leans against the counter nonchalantly.
“Hey, what’s up dude. Sorry, I was about to circle back with more tequila, but I got caught up in here,” Ryota says and flashes you a smile. “Do you know y/n here?” 
You observe Gojo, who wears a tense expression in response to hearing his words, and then he locks eyes with you. A look of surprise swiftly passes across his face as he takes in your appearance, and you feel as if you're practically burning under his gaze. He looks back at Ryota and furrows his brow. 
“Yeah, I do,” he mutters and rudely pushes right in between the two of you to make it to the fridge. “Seems like you do, too.” 
Ryota seems to pick up on something from Gojo's tone that you don’t, because suddenly he’s standing up straight from the counter and turns to look at you with a contemplative expression. "I'll bring the tequila, or what's left of it I guess, out there," he mentions to Gojo, excusing himself with a brief glance in your direction. As he leaves and turns around the corner, a noticeable weight hangs in the air from how you and Gojo are alone in the kitchen now.
You lean back against the island, reaching for the White Claw you had opened earlier and take another sip. There was a muted buzz lingering in your head, and it felt good, offering a pretty welcome distraction from the fact that Gojo was standing just a few feet away from you, searching for something in the fridge. When he doesn’t seem to find what he’s looking for, he closes the fridge door with a louder-than-normal slam, startling you, and then he turns around to face you.
“Didn’t know you’d be here,” he declares with an edge to his voice, and you’re already rolling your eyes.
“Sorry, pal, should I send you a notarized attendance letter three business days in advance so I don’t end up cock-blocking you in a bathroom again?” you sneer at him. 
He leans back against the fridge, facing you as he crosses his arms across his chest. Damn it, don’t stare at the muscles. Don’t do it. “What’s with the attitude?” 
“I don’t have an attitude, this is just how I talk to my acquaintances,” you retort as you take another sip of your drink.
He takes a step forward to you, eyes shamelessly dipping to the neckline of your dress and then a little bit further to where the hem grazes your thighs. He places his palm on the counter behind you that you were resting back on and then he’s leaning closer to you, your grip on the can in your hand tightening. He was so close that you can’t think of anything but him. His eyes are on your lips when he speaks. “Are we just acquaintances?” 
You narrow your eyes at him, all of your anger from yesterday and earlier today resurfacing at his question as you look up at him straight in the eyes. “Yes, I’m only someone you know, right?”
He’s sighing and you can tell he wants to pull away from you to display his annoyance, but he stays right where he’s at. The hand that was placed on the counter slowly inches towards your waist until his thumb is brushing against the fabric of your dress just underneath your rib cage. He starts to draw slow circles on the material, pressing into your skin occasionally, and you‘re breathless from the contact. “I’m getting the hint that you’re mad at me about something, but it’s hard to care when you’re looking like this.”
You let out a scoff at his words. You’ve spent the past two days suffering from his behavior, and he’s trying to get away with it by practically seducing you. But there was also a part of you that was entirely aroused by how little he seemed to care about your attitude and how much more he seemed to care about the way you were worrying your bottom lip between your teeth. “Looking like what?”
The thumb that was pressing against the clothed skin of your waist retreats and his hand moves back to where it was before, laid flat on the counter next to you, except this time his other arm reaches out for the surface too. And now he’s got you caged-in, looking down at you like he’s trying really hard to not get even closer. “Looking hot as fuck? You’re kind of vain for making me say it out loud.” 
You’re effectively dazed out of your goddamn mind at this point, using all the self-control you’ll have for the rest of a lifetime to not grab onto his shirt and pull him into you, all inhibitions lost to the wind. You wouldn’t even care if anyone walked in, you just needed him on you, touching you, kissing you right now. But there’s a tiny part of you that’s still mad at him, and fortunately that tiny part of you pulls through. “If you think trying to seduce me is going to make me not angry anymore, you’re out of luck.”
“I’m not trying to seduce you. You think this is me trying to seduce you? If that’s so, I’m starting to worry you won’t be able to take it,” he whispers that last part so suggestively that you’re weak in the knees from his words. He seemed so different, entirely preoccupied by taking in the sight of every inch of you in front of him that any sense of shame or guilt has left his body, and he’s just looking at you with desire. 
“Satoru…” is all you manage to say as you look up at him, your thighs clenching from the arousal of just his presence surrounding you. 
You see him close his eyes for a second and exhale before he opens them, his pupils all the way dilated and wild when he looks at you again. “Yeah?” he responds, his head dipping down towards yours slightly, lips just inches from yours, like he’s waiting for your permission to act. 
“I…” you start, blinking up at him through your lashes, “...I was having a lot of fun earlier throwing back shots of tequila, and you kind of ruined that. So, if you’ll excuse me, I’d like to get back to it.” You place a hand on his chest, his gaze dropping to it in surprise as he watches you push him away from you all the way until his back hits the fridge with a thud.
“What the fuck?” he utters, his face contorted into a confusion you found incredibly comical.
You press up against him, looking up with round eyes and innocence, and you feel him immediately tense up. “Also, very inappropriate to treat someone you barely know like that. I’ll let it slide, though.” 
The last thing you see before you turn away from him is his shocked expression, blinking at you with the rest of him practically motionless, and you skip out of the kitchen towards the main party happening around the corner out of his sight. 
There were bustling people, a few guys coming up to you to talk to you, but you ignore them until you spot Geto, Nanami, some of the other soccer players, and a bunch of other people huddled around in a circle. You tap on Geto’s shoulder and he turns around to face you.
“Oh! Hey, what’s up, you made it,” Geto greets you, pulling you in for a brief hug which surprises you but was also pleasantly received as you hugged him back with a friendly pat. You could smell the alcohol from him. When he pulls away from you, he’s beaming. “We’re all doing rounds of shots, wanna join?”
“Oh my god, the words I’ve been wanting to hear all night,” you say and you join the circle, a bunch of people cheering as they usher you towards the center and you grab a shot glass from the small round table. A group of maybe fifteen people all raise their shot glasses up in the air, you included, and say some incoherent, non-rehearsed words of luck for the soccer team’s game tomorrow before everyone throws back their shots. You’re squealing and jumping up and down in excitement with Geto and watch as Nanami pretends to throw back his shot before dumping its contents into a red plastic solo cup in his hand instead.
“This is so much fun!” you’re yelling. “Can we do another?”
“Hey! New girl wants to do another,” one of the frat dudes calls out, which is followed by cheers and then messy pouring of tequila all over the table as people extend their shot glasses out to be filled. 
Two, three, four, eventually five is your limit until you wander away from the circle, entirely tipsy at this point, over to where people were dancing in front of the DJ’s booth. You bump into some couples that were grinding up on each other, your drunk conscience shamelessly watching their movements, and then accidentally bump into a man so hard that it almost sends you falling back onto the ground but he grabs your arm and keeps you upright. His drink spills a bit out of his hand and onto your dress, making you giggle like a freak. 
“Shit, I’m so sorry,” he’s yelling to you over the music.
“No, I’m sorry,” you yell back, and then you notice he’s wearing a jacket that mimics the patterns of the school’s soccer jersey and has an embroidered player’s number on the chest. It hits you that you’ve seen him on the field before briefly during the practices you’ve been to. “Are you on the soccer team?”
“Yeah, I am,” he says and he tells you his name but the music is way too loud to hear it, and you’re also sort of drunk at this point to register it anyways. But he was cute, and you decided you wanted to dance with him, and dance away is exactly what you do. 
When he twirls you around and presses his chest against your back, your line of sight falls straight ahead to where you see Gojo sitting on a couch. Your heart sinks in your chest when you see a girl place a hand on his thigh and lean towards him, practically sitting in his lap, but the look on his face tells you he’s entirely distracted by something else. His eyes search the room for a few seconds, and when they land on you, he stills. When he tilts his head up to peer behind you and sees who you were dancing with, a look of shock crossed his face. 
For fucks sake, you wouldn’t flirt with one of his teammates, right?
In your drunk, hazy mind, Mina’s words flash by in your head. The foolproof way to tell how a guy really feels about you is based on how he reacts when he sees another guy’s tongue shoved down your throat.
You turn around, reach up and pull the man you were dancing with down towards you, and you kiss him. The man hesitates, clearly surprised, before moving his lips against yours and just when you feel his hands make their way to your waist, you’re being yanked away from him by the arm. When you turn to look at the perpetrator, you see a very viscerally angry-looking Gojo in front of you and a chill runs down your spine.
Oh god, he looked pissed. If looks could kill, you’d be six feet under right now. 
He pulls you by your forearm over to the stairs, and you’re protesting, trying to yank away from his harsh grip, but he doesn’t budge as he takes you up to the second floor and just when you two have made it into the secluded hallway, he pushes you up against the wall, caging you into it with his body.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” he scowls at you, leaning in closer, tone so searing it’s enough to set you on fire.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” you yell back at him, anger rising within you.
“You’re seriously turning out to be a real fucking pain in the ass,” he hisses the words, his eyes darting across your face before settling on your lips.
“Why do you care? I’m just-” you start but he interrupts you when his lips crash down on yours, taking you by surprise. His kiss was hungry, ravenous, all-consuming. So different from that night when he kissed you for the first time with nothing but tenderness. This one felt like he wanted to take everything from you, leaving nothing behind. His hands find your waist, pulling you closer to him, and your arms slide up past his shoulders, locking behind his neck, and he’s groaning against your mouth before biting at your bottom lip. When you grant him access, he deepens the kiss and the taste of him intoxicates you.
“If you imply that you’re just a stranger to me one more fucking time,” he’s growling against your mouth, “I’ll make sure we get real well acquainted with eachother against this wall right now.” His hands find the flesh underneath your ass and he easily hoists you up, your legs immediately wrapping around his waist. “Ask me if I give a fuck if anyone sees.”  
“Oh my god,” you’re gasping, his words hitting you straight to your core, and when you feel his clothed erection pressed against the flimsy cloth of your panties, the self-resolution you once had was all but a distant memory. “Satoru, bathroom, please, not here.”
When you tip your head back, giving him access to your neck and he immediately indulges, peppering kisses down your skin, you roll your hips against his and he squeezes the flesh of your ass hard to reprimand the motion before he takes you into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him, then setting you up on the counter. 
His kisses get lower until he’s at your collarbone, and he pulls you forward towards him on the surface to where you’re sitting at the edge and he has his hands digging at the soft flesh of your thighs. You’re squirming in his grasp, gripping onto his shirt for any sort of purchase. When his kissing reaches the neckline of your dress and his finger hooks the fabric, threatening to pull it down, he looks at you. 
“Please,” you ask him simply.
He raises an amused eyebrow, pulling down the fabric slowly to just above where your nipples would be set free. “You think you’re in a position to ask for anything from me right now?”
“Oh my fucking god I swear, if you don’t yank my dress down, I’ll choke you,” you threaten him. 
“Careful, pretty, I might be into that,” he chides, pressing a kiss to your chest.
You grab the wrist of the hand that was still hooked inside your cleavage, and pull it down harshly so your tits are set free and he leans away from you to take in the sight. He’s mesmerized for a moment, his hand wrapping around your rib cage and thumb poking the softness from the side before it eventually reaches your nipple and starts to play with it. “God, you’re so beautiful. Remind me why we didn’t do this the first night we met?”
When his mouth latches onto your nipple, you tip your head back with a moan and you’re not able to come up with an answer to his question. Because he was right, it was insane that the two of you didn’t. Your hand runs through the short hair of his undercut at the nape of his neck and then grips at the soft strands a bit higher as he sucks and licks at your breasts. You wrap your legs around him tighter, pulling his hips to you, and from the edge of the counter you start to roll your wet panties against the bulge at his front to get relief. He groans against your chest before pulling away. 
“You need to relax. Real fuckin’ desperate now compared to when you were pushing me away in the kitchen thirty minutes ago,” he scolds, his lips finding yours again and one of his hands trails up the skin of your thigh. You open your legs even wider for him sweetly and he smiles against your lips, his fingers brushing the skin of your inner thigh and then finally pressing against your clothed core. You instantly jolt, entirely stimulated by the contact, and he pulls away from the kiss to watch you. 
“S-Satoru…” you whimper because it’s all you can manage to say, your hips pushing forward, craving more of his touch, but he withdraws from your heat all together and steps away from you, his grip on your hips dragging you forward until you step down from the counter and you’re standing in front of him, looking up like you don’t even know how to breathe unless he talks you through it. He turns you around to where you’re facing the mirror, and it’s the first time you take a look at how messed up he’s gotten you. Your cheeks were flushed, lips swollen, eyes a little teary from the lust consuming you. Your tits that appeared plush and perked by the haphazard way the neckline of your dress was tucked underneath them were glistening with his saliva and you felt like you were about to go insane at the sight. You take a look at his face in the reflection, and he too looked like he was about to go insane at the sight. 
“Bend over the counter,” he demands with a rough voice, but you don’t have much of a choice since he’s pushing down on your back anyways. You’ve risen up onto your tiptoes to accommodate the position and he lazily flips the fabric of your dress up over your ass before his hands hook into the side of your panties at your hips, pulling them down, and you feel the fabric practically peel off of you from how wet you were. And then he was on his knees behind you.
“Fuck, why didn’t we do this the first night we met?” he laments, marveling at the sight of you bent over for him.
“You already asked that question,” you mumble. 
“Cause it still doesn’t make any fucking sense to me,” he sighs and then he drags his index finger into your folds, from your entrance that was sopping wet all the way down to your clit. You’re wiggling, pushing your hips out towards him, and you hear him let out a low, guttural sound in his chest at the sight. His finger experimentally pushes into you and you’re gasping, hand slamming against the mirror.
“You’re so sensitive. Need a second?” he asks like he’s genuinely looking out for you, and yet he doesn’t wait before pushing another finger into you regardless. 
“Mhh..n-no, just need your tongue,” you say through a shaky breath, panting from where you were on the counter. 
He groans at your request and pulls his fingers out of you, instantly making you whine, before giving you a different reason to whine when his tongue presses against your clit.
Your mind was going insane, still registering the shock that this was happening as you moaned from the feeling of his tongue on you, mouth latching on and sucking harshly at your sensitive core that has you writhing and grasping onto anything you could find for purchase. The man that was making a mess at the most intimate part of you right now seemed so different from that kind man last week that pressed that chaste kiss to your lips. This was like you had just summoned the devil and he was on his knees behind you.
You make a mental note to never doubt any of Mina’s advice ever again.
When his hungry lapping at your clit turns into slow, lazy licks against your folds, you whimper above him and attempt to grind against his mouth so his tongue is where you want it. “Mm…p-please, stop teasing, I wanna cum.” 
He pulls his mouth from you and you feel how slick he’s made you, nothing but a mess of your arousal and his spit, before he pushes two fingers inside you and stretches you out inside with them. “But do you deserve to cum, is the question, sweetheart,” he drawls, curling his fingers inside and pressing on that spot that had your walls fluttering around him and building that tight knot in your lower tummy. 
“Yes, I do, fuck,” you’re moaning as he slowly starts to pump his fingers in and out of you, “less talking, more licking my clit.”
His other hand finds your clit, fingers beginning to rub agonizingly slow circles, and you can feel the texture of his calluses across every single nerve ending of the aching bud. “What was that, baby? You want me to be stingy with my tongue? Alright, whatever you say, princess,” he sighs it like he has no choice but to be a fucking dick right now.
“No, oh my god, don’t be stingy with your tongue,” you cry out, your cheek pressing up against the mirror from the sheer desperation of wanting a release, “I’ll kill you.” 
“Can’t make you cum if I’m dead,” he purrs. “God, your pussy’s going crazy right now, clenching around my fingers like it’s got a mind of its own. Can’t wait to fuck you,” he’s groaning, “so sweet, so tight, so wet. Exactly how I imagined it.”
“Y-You’ve imagined this?” you whimper to him when he starts to fully fuck you with his fingers. 
“So many fucking times,” he grumbles, his other hand now gripping your ass and thumb spreading you more open. You blush from how exposed you felt to him, but the noises he was making from the deepest part within his chest made you realize he was a freak for it. He pulls his fingers out of you and then uses both hands to spread your folds apart as he laps at the wetness that was practically dripping from your entrance. “What your world would be like if this was your little ‘terms and conditions’ favor instead.”
His tongue latches onto your clit again and your knees almost buckle. “M-Make me cum and maybe I’ll finally regret the fact that it wasn’t,” you say to him, desperate to coax something feral from him that finally grants you release of the tension building at your core. You’re unable to stay still, squirming and squealing above him, so hopelessly at his mercy.
“Say you’ll never kiss another guy except me ever again,” you hear him grumble with his face still buried in your cunt.
“w-what…” you say, exhaling incredulously, “S-Satoru…you don’t make any sense…we’re not even dat-”
“Say it, and I’ll let you cum,” he tells you simply, pulling his mouth from you again just when you felt like you were about to topple over and you’re about ready to kick him in the face at this point. You try to look over your shoulder to read his facial expression but when his fingers take their position over your clit and he starts to draw stars, you quickly give up and rest your forehead on the mirror. Oh god, this was good, if he just kept going-
As if he could read your mind, he pulls his fingers from your clit entirely, leaving your core agonizingly empty from any part of his touch, and it makes you gasp. You’ve never felt more betrayed in your life.
“Oh my god, okay okay okay!” you’re screaming, sticking your ass out to him and he’s chuckling at the sight. “I’ll never kiss another guy again! Fucking hell, Satoru, please, just make me cum,” you beg, whimpering and almost crying, your thighs twitching from the urge to clench together for some form of relief in his absence.
He seems satisfied by your begging, because he immediately grabs your ass with both hands, one of his thumbs pushing shallowly into your drenched entrance, and then his mouth finds your clit again. You close your eyes shut, and you could feel that you were just seconds away from cumming as he simultaneously sucks and licks relentlessly on the sensitive bundle of nerves. It’s when he groans against your center with such a primal frequency, sending shockwaves of vibrations to your center and throughout your entire body, that you fall apart for him and you come undone so violently that your knees entirely give out, and you’re screaming his name. He wraps an arm around your legs to keep you from falling as you squirm on the counter, your walls pulsing and clenching, hips twitching, and then you’re finally calming down. You lay blissfully on the surface, head down, breathing heavily with soft, remnant whimpers leaving your lips.
You hear Gojo let out a short exhale from behind you that almost sounds like he’s in disbelief. When you turn slightly to look back at him, you see he’s palming himself through his pants and looking directly at your cunt. “You’re dripping onto the floor, fuck.” He catches a drop of slick, clear arousal as it falls from your entrance, immediately bringing it to his tongue and licking it off his finger before standing up. 
You barely manage to push your upper body up so that you’re standing, shaking arms working overtime to hold yourself up, and he comes up behind you to press his chest against your back, looking at you in the mirror. He was breathing heavily too, his mouth near your ear and his eyes lidded with lust. You reach your arm up and behind him to grab at the soft tufts of hair at the back of his head, your back arching from the motion, and he groans as he pushes his clothed erection against your ass, head dropping close to your shoulder from the pleasure and he presses a kiss to your skin. The image in front of you, with his broad shoulders and frame completely engulfing yours whole, your hips slightly rocking forwards and pushing against the counter from his indulgent grinding behind you, his hand reaching up to pinch and play with your nipple, it was all so erotic that you were already aching for more. He effectively finger-fucked, licked, and sucked the anger out of you, and that was a dangerous fact. 
His fingers grazed up the side of your waist that the fabric of your dress still clung tightly to, and he loosely held onto you, sighing against the back of your neck which sent shivers down your spine. His eyes meet yours in the mirror. “So pretty like this. Turn around and face me, baby, reflection’s not enough,” he says to you and you do as he says, twirling around. His eyes take in the sight of you, his thumb coming up to press at the soft flesh of your breast and you can see it in his eyes that he was worshipping you. 
You finally take in the entire image of his appearance. His chest was heaving, hair disheveled, shirt was wrinkled at the front from when you were grabbing onto it earlier. There’s a crease to his brow when he looks at you, and you realize that this is not the first time you’ve seen him look exactly like this in a party bathroom. Except the last time, it was from reasons other than your own.
And then there’s that sinking feeling in your chest again.
Just when you observe that spark of intense lust in his eyes, pupils dilated like wild, see it flash through his mind that he thinks he’s about to get lucky with you tonight, you find yourself pushing him away from you for the second time tonight. You’ve got him with his back pressed up against the wall while he looks down at you with confusion, and this time there’s desperation and panic there too.
You look up at him with a discerning softness, and all those tender feelings you’ve been experiencing for the past week come crashing down on you all at once, but your heart aches with their memory. When his eyes study your face, there’s a brief second where he’s surprised to see the way you’re looking at him, and his jaw clenches slightly. 
“Thanks, I really needed this,” you whisper to him, hand patting his chest reassuringly as you try to keep your composure in front of him despite the hollow feeling in your chest, “gave me some clarity. Don’t follow me.” And then you step away from him, pull your panties back up into place, adjust the neckline of your dress up over to cover your chest, then you make your way to exit.
“What? Wait-” he scrambles, sounding stunned from behind you as you open the bathroom door, walk right out into the hallway and close the door behind you, not all the way but just enough so you were out of his line of sight.
You sigh to yourself for a second as you step to the side, fixing at your hair, then take a deep breath as you walk down the hall. It registers in your mind that he listens, never following after you. 
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a/n. reader is soooo messy for doing this to him right before his big game lol i'm like scared for her even though i'm literally the author hahha. i hope to see you in the next one! much love
➸ take me to chapter seven!
tag list: @who-can-touch-my-boob @getitsatoru @kissofife @tiredflame132 @cliosunshine @ethereally-lyann @prince-wyiilder @slut-4-gojo @cactisjuice (decided to tag all interacts too just so it's not missed if that's ok! love you all sm)
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readychilledwine · 2 months
Note
hi, i’ve recently found your blog + wow, you’re writing is amazing! i have an idea for i would like to request, i hope that’s okay.
reader has just came home from book club w nesta, gwen and emerie at the house of wind. reader is mated to az - they’re been mated for about a few years. still reader has met nesta, reader almost always has her nose in a book - smutty book to be exact. reader is kinda embarrassed by this bc she wasn’t one to read smutty books before meeting nesta. az is starting to question why reader is always so invested in a book or why he has hardly seen reader for the last couple of weeks. az picks up the book reader is currently reading behind reader’s back & starts to get a little jealous maybe? az may confront reader about the book? i’m not to sure about the ending, but i do know az would do something like asking reader what their favorite scene & they could reenact it or something of that nature. i could totally see az teasing reader just a little bit as well.
i love for you to put your own spin on this. thank you 🩷🩷🩷
Book Boyfriend
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Summary - Azriel has gotten a little tired of your reading habits.
Warnings - Az is a kind of a dick
A/n - I went the spicy mad Az route, and don't worry. Per Liz tradition, it's open for another part.
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Azriel could have burned the damn book in your hands. You hadn't set it down in 3 days.
3 fucking days of you and Nesta curled into each other, drinking Rhysand's expensive wine, reading that stupid thick book.
He knew you loved to read. Books and book related gifts had been his go-to gifts for you since the mating bond snapped 100 years ago. But the obsession since Ness was made was unbearable.
He never had to fight for your attention until now. He felt a shoulder brush his. "Ah, they're in the "We don't want Cassian to know we're reading smut," pose."
Azriel froze, feeling down the bond and trying to get to your end. You had it locked down, but there was a soft blush on your and Nesta's cheeks. "How do you know its smut?"
Cassian sighed. "It's all they read, Azzy. Have you not noticed?"
His shadows darkened. You had hardly kissed or touched him in 3 days in favor of a smut novel? He could show you things, do things, most authors would only think of in their sick dreams.
He felt himself paling under Cassian's gaze. Was he not pleasing you anymore? Was he not performing to your expectations? You always seemed content, spent, and overjoyed when you two had sex.
"I need a fucking drink." Azriel stormed away. Slamming the door to your shared chambers shut. He took on look at the crystal whiskey decanter and decided to drink until you came to the room.
Azriel woke up to soft footsteps and the feeling of a blanket getting laid across him. He heard you sigh, falling into bed, then that faint creak of an unbroken in book spine opening.
Meaning you had a new book. A new smut novel to ignore him with. A new fake boyfriend to imagine between your thighs.
Azriel stood on shaking legs, and he went to bed. Watching as you snapped to book shut and set it on your nightstand title down. "Did I wake you?"
"Yup." He curled into the bed facing away from you. It was childish, but if you weren't happy, you could have just told him instead of replacing him.
When he woke up, raging headache and all, you were gone. But the book wasn't. He reached over and grabbed it, cracking the spine out of spite. 55 chapters in, and Azriel was bored. If he tried to fuck you on a table covered in paint, you'd glare at him about the mess. About getting paint 1000 places you shouldn't.
So why the hell were you reading a book about it?
It was late into the evening when you returned. Azriel had finished the book, marking specific things he wanted to confront you about. He didn't stand as the door opened, didn't greet you as you came in with a few bags. You were all smiles, dolled up in a pretty dress. Your hair was loosely curled, and makeup was done.
"Where the fuck have you been?" It came out as harsh as he expected it to. "I take a week off and you have hardly spent time with me."
He watched you jump, eyes going wide as you took a few steps back. "Nesta wanted to go into town. We lost track of time. I-"
"Lost track of time? Aren't you the female who taught Rhysand how to properly track the stars and sun?" He stalked toward you, book in hand. "Did you two go to find more vitriol like this?" He held it up, watching as your cheeks flushed and you went to reach for it.
"Azriel-"
He lifted it above his head. "You haven't touched me in weeks. You've kissed me maybe once. Hell, yesterday you were content to leave me on the damn couch. I can see why though, you're sitting here getting your needs met by some fictional fae lord instead of me. If you aren't happy anymore just tell me."
Shock hit your face slowly, mind whirling and emotions pouring into him from the bond. "Azriel, it's a book. Not another male."
That wasn't enough for him. "And how many times have you pleasured yourself to this book? Thinking about the main character between your thighs?"
You sighed. "To that one? Not a single time. I haven't gotten to read it and you already damaged the spine." The sadness in your voice made him pause, lowering the book until you could grab it.
You were always so gentle with your books, caring for them and placing them somewhere safe. Bookmarks never sat in them for too long out of fear of damage. He watched you stroke the spine, going to the bookshelf and placing it in the spot it would belong in to match your color based organization.
"Is this really about a book, or is something else going on?" You wouldn't look at him, wouldn't say his name. He could hear the soft tremble. "I'm sorry I made a friend. I'm sorry I've been spending time with Nesta instead of you. But she gets it. She gets how feeling like you don't belong in this family feels," a stab to his chest. "She gets how feeling out of place among you all feels," the stab turning into a gapping wound that had him leaning against the couch. "She gets what it's like to have a mate that is busy and expects you to be here waiting."
You had ripped his heart out. In 100 years, this had never come up. There had never been signs. "Y/n-"
He watched in silence as you held a hand up, moving to grab some clothes and a hair brush. "I'm going to sleep in a guest room tonight. This could have been turned into something beautiful, Az. We could have used these books to inspire fun in our bedroom," your hand ran along that damaged book. "Instead, you disrespected my belongings, accused me of an unthinkable act, and made this about your fragile ego."
You left the room, silence falling in the wake. Azriel stared at the book he had damaged. It was a first edition. A soft shade of blue with swirls of darkness. He walked to it, head hung in shame.
It was an escape. A way for you to cope with your feelings. No different than him training, and he had ruined it.
And now, he checked his calendar, he had 4 days to make it up to you before he, Cassian, and Nesta were gone for a month.
Leaving you alone all over again with nothing but an empty house and a book boyfriend.
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General tag list:
@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanager @bloodicka @starsinyourseyes @the-sweet-psycho
@mariahoedt @rinalouu @sarawritestories @starryhiraeth @starswholistenanddreamsanswered
Azriel Taglist:
@elle4404
💕 As always, comment or message me if you'd like to be added to a taglist💕
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strangemagicc · 21 days
Text
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Nobody Has to Know | Chapter Two
masterlist | <prev | next>
pairings: modern!brother’s best friend!Eddie x fem!Reader
summary: the next morning Eddie is adamant about ignoring you but that only lasts so long
author’s note: I think this is the longest chapter for anything I’ve ever written and I enjoyed writing it so much. There’s just something about Eddie lately. I hope you enjoy sweetness because next chapter will be a little sour 🖤 comments/reblogs and feedback is always so appreciated ! I want to hear from you 🫶🏻
w/c: 9.4k
warnings: cheating (technically not reader or Eddie), smut - oral (reader and Eddie receiving), fingering, discussions of trauma/injuries relating to a car accident
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“Oh shit!”
Eddie could hear your worry as he rounded the corner. His heavy boots loud against the plastic tiled floor catching your attention.
The fear was vibrant in your eyes when you turned to him, a quiet cry for help and he couldn’t help but chuckle at the scene.
The kettle in the popcorn machine was overfilled, smoke billowing from behind the glass doors as you stared in horror.
Charred pieces of popcorn fell into the vat, the burnt smell wafted around you and filled the air.
“Way to go Little Lipton,” he laughed and moved around you to turn off the machine.
“Alright,” he sighed heavily, “this one is going to be out of commission for a bit so we’ll need to make sure that one is always prepped with fresh kernels,” he tilted his chin to the only other popcorn machine and leaned against the counter with his arms crossed.
“Out of commission?” Your voice rose an octave, face twisted in horror. His words raising alarm.
“Yeah,” he laughed as though his next words were obvious.
“We have to clean this one before we use it or all the other batches are going to taste like shit and that’s not the easiest or fastest task.”
“He’s going to kill me,” you groaned and dropped your head.
He being your manager and a major pain in your ass since the day you started working here. He wanted things a certain way; candies lined in a specific direction, cups displayed for the customers to see, popcorn made to perfection and not burnt until it turned to dust.
“Probably not kill, just maim,” Eddie shrugged with a crooked grin and stared down at you with amusement as you collected your thoughts.
“You never told me what to do if I burnt the kernels,” you abruptly looked up at him and swatted at his arm playfully.
“That’s because I told you not to overfill the kettle and never thought you’d ignore that tidbit,” he sighed dramatically, “guess that’s what I get for thinking.”
Reflexively he moved out of arm’s reach before you could do any serious damage.
Eddie enjoyed the way your lower lip jutted out, the way your forehead creased between your eyebrows when you were mad and fuck, were you pissed.
It had been nearly two weeks since you started working at Hawk Theater, trying to save up for the new camcorder you’d been eying, and Eddie had been assigned to train you.
Or his form of training which was a lot of “this is how they want us to do it but this is what works.”
The problem was that you’d been distracted.
It was the way his smile lifted to the side and the way he tied his long curls into a messy ponytail. And sometimes, the sun would shine through the glass and hit his eyes just right, making them look like molten honey.
You couldn’t help the nervous flutters that sprung when he was near, your childhood crush resurfacing with teeth and taking hold of you.
It made it hard to listen, to remember the instructions he told you like not to fill the kernels past the very obvious line or else.
He never expounded on the or else but negative consequences were heavily implied.
“You’re such a jerk,” you rebutted but the venom fell flat, the insult sounding endearing to Eddie’s ears.
“You already knew I was, sweetheart. Don’t know why you expected anything different now that you work with me,” he began cleaning out the popcorn machine. Dumping the burnt kernels into the trash can before adding the cleaning solution to the kettle.
Your heart was still fluttering, replaying the single pet name over and over again.
“Guess that’s what I get for thinking,” you mimicked him and began helping him clean so the two of you would be ready for opening in thirty minutes.
Eddie watched you from the corner of his eye, the way your gaze was lit with mischief as you teased him and he couldn’t help but smile to himself.
“Are you two trying to set this place on fire?” Mark Huntzberger, the manager, bellowed as he came down the stairs from his office eyeing the mess you had made.
He descended with a stern, critical eye that shifted over the concessions stand and back to you.
You couldn’t help the way you shrank under his scrutiny.
“I know this may just be some summer job to you, girl, but this is my livelihood. If you can’t get it together by the end of the week I will make sure this one fires you.” He turned his attention to Eddie whose face had gone flat, eyebrows set in a straight line. Jaw tensed.
“It was an honest mistake,” Eddie interjected.
“Clean it up,” Huntzberger ordered and disappeared into the ticket booth.
“Why did I think this was going to be easy or fun?” You questioned more to yourself than to Eddie, shoulders tensed.
You tied the trash bag containing the kernels and pulled it from the can.
“Because the town fuck up works here, how hard can it be?” He nudged you with a wink.
“Move over, Eddie. Someone’s about to take your place,” you giggled and walked towards the exit doors that led to the alley behind the cinema.
“Don’t do that, it’s the only thing I got going for me,” his grin grew wider as he followed behind you.
He was all self-deprecation all the time and you began to wonder how much of it he really believed. A pang of sadness twisted in your gut.
The summer air was suffocating with its humidity and the stench of spoiled food wafting from the dumpsters.
You began to lift the bag over your head when Eddie took it from you and hoisted it in the metal canister.
“Y’know it’s not true, Ed’s,” you began, looking up at him. Eyes squinted from the intensity of the sun.
“What’s not?” He questioned, leaning against the brick wall that hid the dumpsters from the rest of the alley.
“That you don’t have anything else going for you,” you cleared your throat, “you have lots of talents-“
“Ah, yes, I am known for my natural ability to annoy and antagonize,” he interrupted and you rolled your eyes.
“I’m being serious! I mean, I don’t know many people who can learn a new song on the guitar half as fast as you. Didn’t you learn Master of Puppets in like a week?”
You remembered that?
“And what about all the stuff you know about cars? Or the random tidbits about pop culture and music? You’re like an encyclopedia britannica,” you continued.
“For all things useless,” he corrected and you poked his side causing him to flinch away from your touch.
“I mean it!” You insisted, eyes wide. Endearing. The same look you got when you were excited about something and Eddie laughed, ears turning a shade of red from the attention you gave him.
“You’re just trying to flatter me so I don’t fire you,” he joked and you continued to look up at him with a dramatic bat of your eyes, inching closer.
“Is it working?” You retorted, exaggerating the breathiness of your voice.
“Flattery always works with me, sweetheart,” he winked and turned back to the building.
There it was again.
Your heart stopped, skipped, and started again as you willed your legs to move. You watched his retreating frame, eyes boring into the back of his head.
“You coming?” He didn’t stop walking and you took wide steps to catch up with him, walking in stride back to the theater.
Before you went back through the door you grabbed his arm, eyes pouring with sincerity.
“I meant what I said, Eds,” he looked at you with a questioning perk of his eyebrow.
“You don’t give yourself enough credit,” you swallowed hard and squeezed his arm before pulling open the door, the cold cinema air greeting you.
Eddie watched your retreating frame for a moment, a little taken aback, before following you to the concession stand.
The two of you fell into an easy silence as you worked.
You wiped the counters and finished cleaning the popcorn maker as instructed by Eddie while he set up the rope dividers in between each register, making sure things were organized just as Mark liked before the doors opened.
You were ready for the day; doors unlocked and fresh edible popcorn ready for the masses. A mass of moviegoers already lined up at the ticket booth.
The two of you rested against the counter waiting for the first customer to approach when he leaned over to you, warm breath fanning your ear.
“Thanks, (Y/N).”
It was the first time he said your name. Acknowledged you as something other than Little Lipton.
The first time Eddie saw you as more than just his best friend’s little sister.
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Eddie clamored into his trailer, heavy boots dragging across the worn carpet as he trudged to the kitchen and swung open the fridge, grabbing a six-pack that was nearly gone.
He spread out on the couch and chugged one can before reaching for another, eyes darting around his home. Eddie had it to himself for the week, Uncle Wayne out on another cross-country drop-off, and now the silence engulfed him.
The clock on the wall ticked loudly as the seconds passed and his thoughts clashed with each other.
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Eddie tried to keep his attention on the TV as you entered the room for the fourth time that afternoon and Rick shook his head.
“Dude, I think my sister might like you,” your brother laughed as you disappeared back into your room.
Eddie scoffed at his words but the thrum of his heart would’ve given him away if Rick could hear it.
“I’d never date your sister,” Eddie nudged his arm against Rick’s, eyes trained on the video game as he sniped an enemy target.
“Like I’d let you,” he chuckled.
Eddie’s brow twisted in confusion and it wasn’t lost on Rick when he turned to him to emphasize his point.
“Oh come on, I love you man but there’s no way in hell I’d let my sister date a guy like you.”
Eddie chuckled along with Rick to conceal the sting of his friend’s words
He knew all the things that people didn’t like about him. His hair, his tattoos. The bad reputation he’d more than earned but to hear it from his best friend made it sting more.
He wondered if you saw him that way; a loser with no future. Just the town freak and he promised he’d never put himself out there to know.
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Eddie pressed his palm to his eye, Rick’s words reverberated off his skull as he grappled with the feelings he’d long ignored.
The feelings that had sprouted and made a home of him since the summer he worked with you.
Eddie could still feel your lips against his, the electricity that hummed in his veins and he wished it had lasted a moment longer.
He made a mistake, a huge mistake, and winced every time he thought about the look on your face when he pushed you back into the passenger seat.
Eddie knew if it went further you’d only regret it once the sun came up and you’d sobered up. Once the realization hit that you’d slept with the pariah of Hawkins and he couldn’t live with you seeing him that way, with you regretting him.
Not when he already saw it in so many eyes around town.
He wasn’t exactly someone you could take home, someone you could brag about or show off a picture of. He knew that much, had been told that much so he accepted it to be true.
When girls got with Eddie they expected fun, they expected drugs, and a quick hookup.
Some of them never talked to him again, pretended they didn’t know him when they ran into him and others told him that being with him made them realize they’d hit rock bottom.
God, he couldn’t handle you telling him that he was your rock bottom.
Eddie decided it was better to ignore it, to ignore you. Better to pretend it didn’t happen despite the way he felt to spare himself from the regret he knew you’d feel.
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It was a rainy day, fat drops bouncing off the windshield as your father drove. Faster than usual. In a hurry but you didn’t know where to.
The air conditioner was off creating a layer of condensation on the windows, making your legs stick to the leather seats of your family’s beat-up station wagon.
You drew butterflies on the glass, finger tracing against the cool pane. Grin wide as your drawings exposed the gray of the sky, the way the dark clouds rolled against its expanse.
The low hum of Strawberry Fields Forever played over the radio but your parent’s voices were louder.
Angrier.
Your mom sniffled and you leaned up in your seat to see if she was crying, the length of her hair concealing her face from view.
“Mama,” you pushed against her seat with your sneakered foot but she didn’t respond.
“Jude, please pull over. I can drive.” Your mom insisted, tugging at your father’s arm but he shoved her off.
You unbuckled your seat belt and pulled at your mom’s shirt trying to get her attention.
“Mom.”
But your voice was cut off, muffled below the volume of the radio as your dad’s hand reached for the dial turning it until your ears rang.
You shrank back into your seat, lower lip jutted as you looked at them. No longer able to understand what your parents were saying, the scene in front of you a mix of gestures and twisted faces leaving you confused.
Your mother pulled on your dad’s arm again and he shoved her off, turning his head to look at her. Mouth wide as he spoke but you still couldn’t understand what he said.
Everything else became a blur of lights and pain.
Endless pain shooting from your leg and throughout your body.
Your cries wracked your body but were silent to your own ears.
The scene around you a mix of broken glass and lifeless eyes.
Then darkness.
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You woke in a cold sweat, tank top clinging to your body uncomfortably.
Behind your eyes, your head pounded in a steady rhythm, one that matched the way your heart was racing. Bile began to rise to your throat, the nausea that always accompanied the nightmare.
The sting of your leg a reminder of the accident, of the pain from that day.
You pressed your palms into the skin of your thigh massaging the muscle marred by a thick scar that was a shade lighter than the rest of your flesh.
It ached like it just happened, like you were ten years old again trapped in that car and you groaned trying to bring yourself back to the present. Tried to ground yourself with the distant sound of the coffee maker and the smell of burnt toast.
Slowly you came back to the present, heart settling into a steady rhythm as you glanced around your room.
Sunlight streamed through your sheer curtains in brilliant rays, yellow hues painting your walls and highlighting the dust that danced through the air.
You threw your head back against the pillow, not ready to face the day. Images of the night before flooding your vision.
Simon and Rachel, her mouth pressed to his. The way she smiled up at him, held his hand.
The scene too familiar for a random drunken hook-up.
You pressed your palms into your eyes, rubbing until you saw swirls. Until you were reminded of Eddie’s stunned face as you sat in his lap, hands on his chest. The way he bucked into you.
The way he pushed you back into the passenger seat.
“Fucking idiot,” you groaned with embarrassment, pulling your pillow over your face as you let out a scream.
You stayed concealed under the pillow, contemplating jumping into the lake and disappearing altogether. Not ready to face Simon and Rachel. Or Eddie.
You flailed your body as another wave of embarrassment rolled through you, causing your pillow to fall from your face.
The incessant buzz of your phone caught your attention and you looked at its illuminated face. The screen full of notifications that you could see without grabbing it.
Hesitantly you reached for it, eyes pouring over all the texts.
11:55PM
Simon: Guess you decided not to come tonight?
12:00AM
Simon: helloooo?
12:23AM
Simon: so you’re just going to ignore me now cos I asked you to go out?
Simon: not like we can’t do date night another time, wanted to go have some fun for once
1:03AM
Simon: so you did show up
Simon: you left with MUNSON?
2:30AM
Simon: you’re really just going to ignore me?
2:33AM
Rachel: (Y/N)?
Rachel: Simon is really worried about you
7:49AM
Simon: We need to talk
8:36AM
Rachel: Text me when you’re awake
You swallowed the emotion that arose and wondered if their guilt had kept them awake, if it had eaten at them or settled into their chest. Felt whenever they breathed.
Were they even capable of that?
Slowly you pushed the sheets off the bed and forced your legs over the edge one by one until your feet were planted firmly in the plush carpet, your back still pressed against the mattress. Your phone forgotten, lost somewhere in your bedding.
You willed yourself off the mattress and clamored out your door, mind focused on getting a glass of water to cure your dry mouth.
The throb of your head returned and fuck, why did you drink so much last night?
The smell of burnt toast grew stronger as you stumbled down the hall causing your stomach to twist into knots and you could only assume it was your brother’s fault.
“Is it really that hard to cook toast, Rick?” You complained loudly as you reached for a glass on the top shelf and turned to the sink.
Blissfully unaware that there was a set of eyes on you, watching as you whistled and filled your glass to the brim. Foot tapping to a song that only you could hear.
Eddie watched you, a little petrified like a deer caught in the headlights.
He knew he’d see you, it was your house after all, but he wasn’t prepared for how much he’d see.
His eyes traced over your legs, focusing on the swell of your ass. Watching as you leaned over the sink to get a better view of the lake from the window, exposing just a glimpse of your ass cheeks.
And it’s like you knew what you were doing, knew that he was watching and driving him just a little bit insane.
He swallowed harshly, refocusing his attention back on his breakfast. Doing his best to ignore you like he planned.
“If it isn’t little miss sunshine,” your brother greeted, words dripping with sarcasm.
You turned around to mock him but stopped in your tracks, eyes practically bulging out of your skull when you noticed Eddie and you gripped your cup harder.
Had he been sitting there the whole time?
He quietly nibbled on a piece of bacon. Avoiding your eye contact entirely.
Your embarrassment flared and god, you wanted to crawl into a hole to disappear entirely.
Blinking rapidly, you shifted your gaze from his frame to Rick.
He situated himself at the table, grabbing a plate and shoveling food onto its surface. Eggs, bacon, and the incredibly burnt toast.
“Have work today?”
“Like I do every Saturday,” you shrugged, tone bored and doing your best not to glance at the metalhead out of the corner of your eye.
You took a sip of your water, focusing on the way its cool temperature slipped across your tongue. Focusing on anything else.
“I’m not going to be able to take you to work. Mrs. Wheeler needs me to take a look at her car and then I’m picking up some extra hours at the shop.”
You had yet to overcome your fear of driving, already having a hard time being a passenger in a car. 
“Can’t mom take me?” you questioned but Rick’s head was already shaking as you spoke.
“The transmission is acting up in her car, need to look at it,” he stated around a mouth full of food.
“Then how is she getting to work?” You set your cup onto the counter sharper than you intended and folded your arms over your chest.
“She’s not, has one of her headaches again,” he gestured to his own head and shoveled more food into his mouth.
“That’s why I need the overtime and for you to go to work, we need the cash. Next deal isn’t coming in before the light bill is due.”
Your shoulders sagged, the constant stress of bills weighing heavy on you.
“I can just walk or get an uber,” you suggested with a tight smile, reaching over to grab a piece of bacon. The walk wasn’t that long.
“Your uber is already here,” he pointed to Eddie and your eyes nearly bulged out of your head.
Not happening.
“I can just walk,” you reaffirmed quickly causing Eddie’s eyebrow to quirk.
“Why are you acting like such a brat?” You rolled your eyes.
“I’m not, just don’t want to make Eddie go out of his way for me.”
You unfolded your arms and gestured absently towards him.
It was mostly true anyway, you didn’t like the idea of returning to the scene of the crime or spending the twenty minutes it would take for him to drive you to work in awkward silence.
“He’s not, stop being weird.”
“I’m not being weird,” you scoffed.  “Besides I can just ask Simon to give me a ride,” you shrugged nonchalantly, taking another bite of bacon. Rick didn’t need to know that you weren’t talking to Simon and definitely wouldn’t be getting a ride from him.
Eddie’s elbow settled against the wooden dining table as he watched you, the way you so easily lied to your brother.
“Jesus, fine, whatever.” Your brother raised his hand up to get you to shut up and chugged his orange juice. 
You reached for another piece of bacon but this time off his plate. Rick reached for your hand, shaking the piece out of your grasp, and turned to you, face twisting in disgust when he noticed what you were wearing.
“Go put some clothes on before Eddie gauges his fucking eyes out.” He wiped his mouth and waved a dismissive hand at you, chuckling at his own joke before biting into the piece of bacon that you tried to steal.
Eddie chuckled along with your brother, his pale cheeks blossoming pink and you sneered at him.
“Oh, I’d really hate for him to do that,” your voice dripped with sarcasm as you rolled your eyes and disappeared back down the hall to your room.
You pressed your back against the wooden door, annoyance making a place in your chest and overtaking any embarrassment you’d previously felt.
No, Simon wouldn’t be giving you a ride but neither would Eddie. You’d rather risk showing up a sweaty mess than sit in a car alone with him.
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What you hadn’t planned on was for it to start raining. One of Hawkins’ sporadic downpours graced the sky as autumn settled into its foliage.
The maple leaves had already started turning yellow, their brightness a contrast against the gray sky. The air smelled of the evergreens, the sharpness of their leaves mixing with the sweetness of the maple trees.
You took a deep breath as you continued your walk, the road feeling longer in the bad weather.
Your converse trudged through the mud splashing dirt onto the cuffs of your jeans. Your white assistant manager shirt clung to your skin leaving little to the imagination and you crossed your arms over your chest.
There was a small part of you that wished you had just taken the ride but there was a bigger part, the more prideful one, that was glad you hadn’t.
Not after the way he laughed at you, at the thought of even being attracted to you. When you’d just mauled him the night before and this would be the perfect time for lightning to strike you down.
To end your misery, the embarrassment clinging to you once again like your clothes did.
In the distance, you could hear a car approaching and you moved further into the dirt to avoid being hit hoping it wasn’t a creeper or a new serial killer looking for his next victim.
But it was worse.
It was Eddie.
Smiling at you from his rolled-down window, van driving slowly on the road's edge.
“Are you that fucking stubborn?” He asked, although he already knew the answer.
“Go away, Munson.”
You didn’t look at him, eyes focused on the road ahead.
“Simon a no-show, huh?”
You clicked your teeth, trying to appear nonchalant. Like the words didn’t dig at you.
“Doesn’t appear so.”
His shoulders sagged as you continued to ignore him, deciding to appeal to your sensible side instead.
“You’re going to get sick.”
“So?”
And why did he think you could be sensible?
He groaned and sped up only to stop the car just in front of you to block your path. You stopped in your tracks, listening as he climbed out of the driver’s seat and rounded the car.
“Are we really going to do this again?,” he questioned as he trudged toward you. Boots slamming into the mud. Curls a little wild when he looked at you.
“Do what?” You gave him an innocent smile, eyelashes batting dramatically. 
Eddie closed his eyes and took a deep breath.
“Just get in the fucking car,” he stated through gritted teeth, his annoyance only making your grin widen.
“Sure you wouldn’t rather gauge your eyes out?” Your voice dropped low, mocking Rick’s tone. You dropped your smile, gaze a little cold as it met his before and you pushed past Eddie.
He threw his head back, face to the sky. Of course, you were pissed about that.
“I’m sorry, okay?” He turned to you, watching as you continued to walk away from him.
“For driving me home last night and making out with me or for laughing at me this morning?” You turned around and began to walk backward, arms lifting from your side. A little tired, a little defeated and you stopped beside his van waiting for his answer. Concealed from the rest of the road.
“Laughing at you,” his voice was earnest, “I didn’t mean it.”
You nodded, his words a salve to that wound but still, there was the mortifying way he pushed you away from him.
Eddie began to walk towards you, drawing closer. The scent of his cologne invading your senses.
“Sure you aren’t sorry about the making out part?” You questioned, eyes trained on his amber gaze as he approached.
He swallowed roughly and debated whether he should be honest and simply shook his head.
You shrugged your shoulders trying to appear flippant, to seem as though his reassurance didn’t affect you the way that it had. Heart hammering wildly, legs a little wobbly because Eddie Munson didn’t regret kissing you.
“Well that’s good, I’m glad neither of us regretted it,” you turned from him, missing the way his gaze lit up at your words. The reassurance that he needed.
“Now you can go on your merry way and pretend that you gave me a ride. I promise I won’t tell my brother that you didn’t.”
His hand was warm against your arm as he spun you to look at him.
Your shoes slid against the wet earth from the force and it was for a brief moment that you saw him before you crashed into the soft mud.
“Fuck-“ your curses were synchronized as you fell and pulled him atop of you, his weight causing you to groan from the sudden impact.
Eddie’s knee was slotted between your legs as he lifted his weight onto his forearms, brown gaze boring into your eyes. An apology on his lips when you began to laugh. Giggles filling the air around you.
You looked at the evidence of your fall, your white shirt was painted brown, ruined, and marred from the mud. Your hair was a mess of dirt that clung to your face.
Eddie was void of any dirt, the only evidence was the mud that soaked through the pants of his jeans and it was a little bit annoying.
Slowly you reached your finger up and slid it across his pale skin with a wide mischievous smile. Chuckling at the way his eyebrows married at your actions, the way his jaw jutted to this side and he shook his head.
“You brat,” he lifted a hand and attempted to copy your actions as you tried to wiggle away. His free hand stilled you, holding you by the waist his he dragged the other across your cheek.
His playful smile mirrored yours.
“You jerk, I have to get to work!” But your tone didn’t match the light in your eyes.
“I don’t think Huntzberger wants you hovering over the popcorn, let alone walking into the building, like this.”
His eyes roamed your body, noticing the way your nipples were pebbled against your shirt. The way your jeans hugged the flare of your hips as you squirmed beneath him.
Your breath hitched as he took you in, chest rising and falling at a quickened pace that wasn’t lost on Eddie.
“How much time do you have before work?” His voice was a little gruff, affected, and it took a moment for you to form a coherent thought.
Your eyes blinked rapidly, hands resting on his chest absently and you cleared your throat.
He lifted off of you and reached a hand to help you up but you pulled him down into the mud beside you.
“You little shit!” Eddie looked at himself, the mud that clung to his jacket and jeans.
“Oops,” you shrugged and leaned out of his way as he threw mud at you.
“I have like two hours,” you laughed, looking at him completely amused.
“How long did you think it was going to take you to walk?” He lay there defeated, chuckle matching yours.
“I don’t know, it was just in case-“
“In case what? You had to fight a pack of wood rats to get through?”
“Shut up,” you shoved his face from yours, mud caking his cheek.
Eddie gasped at the same time you did, realization dawning as he tackled you back into the mud.
It was like the whole world fell around you, ceasing to exist except for you and Eddie. His muddied face hovering above yours, long fingers digging into your sides as you wiggled away from him.
Your giggles filled the air and you pushed at his chest.
“Stop! I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” Tears sprang in your eyes as you pushed against his chest, dirt seeping further into your clothes as you lay there at his mercy.
“Say please,” he insisted and you shook your head, hands gripping his shirt,
For a moment he stopped, fingers stilled at your sides and he smiled at you mischievously. Face moving half an inch closer and your smile faltered briefly, gaze darting to his lips and back to his eyes. Their deep brown staring back at you, a light in them you hadn’t seen.
“You don’t regret it?” He questioned, needing reassurance. His breath fanning against your face.
You shook your head already knowing the “it” that he thought you regretted and he leaned closer, his lips a whisper above your own.
Shaky breaths mixing with yours.
Your heart skipped as you anticipated the first touch, your eyes fluttering closed.
Eddie pulled away, slowly. Hesitantly.
“Think we should get you back home,” he looked down at your dirtied clothes and chuckled, face hovering above yours and you tried to hide your disappointment as you nodded in agreement.
He pushed himself off of you wiping his hands along his jeans before stretching out his hand to help you up.
Your palm slid against his, caked dirt pressing against his warm hand and he pulled you against him. Sliding his hands down until they settled on your waist.
His nose traced yours as his fingers dug into your hips and he swallowed hard.
The composure he’d always managed to maintain quickly slipped away.
You tilted your face and ran a hand against his jaw, cupping his chin. Your thumb lazed against his stubbled flesh drawing circles in his skin.
“Fuck it,” Eddie’s lips pushed against yours.
The press of them made you gasp, just as soft as you remembered but more fervent than before.
His tongue pressed at the seam of your lips, swiping against yours when you opened for him.
He was sweet like spearmint and you hummed.
Exhilaration thrummed through you as you pulled him closer, arms wrapping around his neck.
Chest to chest.
Hearts synchronized, each beating at a rapid pace and you wanted the moment to stretch on.
For the kiss to never end.
Thunder cracked in the air and the two of you looked up at the darkened sky just as the rain began to fall.
Eddie looked back at you, dimpled grin wide as the first drop hit his cheek and you yelped when the first drops began to cascade against your cheeks.
He pressed a quick kiss to your lips, enjoying your surprised gasp. The way you instantly melted into his touch.
“Will you please get in the fucking car now?” 
You nodded rapidly, your hand slipping into Eddie’s warm palm. Allowing him to pull you towards his van and into the passenger seat.
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Your house was silent, the volume of your mother’s television low behind her bedroom door. Rick had long since left, his car missing from your driveway.
Slowly you tiptoed inside and pulled Eddie behind you like a teenager sneaking a random boy in. As though Eddie hadn’t been inside your house a million times before.
You slid the deadbolt into the door and turned to him with a wide grin, making his heart pulse with nervous energy.
His thoughts raced with uncertainty. Insecurity and god, what was he doing in his best friend’s house holding hands with his sister?
What if you didn’t regret it now but you did later?
Because you were bound to.
He was adamant you were.
Your lips made his thoughts dissipate, self-doubt replaced with a need he could no longer ignore. You both kicked off your muddy shoes, their soles landing with a soft thud against the tiled floor.
His smile grew under your kiss as you led him through the house and to the bathroom, legs moving backward as you tugged at his shirt.
Your back hit the wood of the door louder than expected and he broke apart from you, stilling to listen for any movement. His concentrated face made you giggle as you pulled him through and closed the door.
“Scared, Munson?” Your voice was teasing as you pushed him against the wooden frame and reached for the lock beside him. Twisting it until it latched.
Less than shy.
A little needy.
Challenging gaze trained on his as you pushed his leather jacket to the ground, grinning as it landed with a thud.
It was like a game, each of you teasing and feeling like you were about to explode.
He shook his head in response, crooked grin broad as he dipped his head closer to yours. Enjoying the way you leaned towards him instinctively already anticipating the moment his lips would be on yours.
“What was it you said last night?” His voice was gruff, eyebrow twitching up as he waited for your response.
You watched as Eddie traced his fingers up your arm, the warmth of them felt beneath your shirt. His pace was agonizingly slow as he created a trail to your face and rubbed an affectionate thumb against your cheek.
Your mind was swimming, eyes trained on his lips just inches from yours. Loud need surpassing any form of a coherent thought and he enjoyed how you were affected.
How you were a little dumb from just one kiss, from the press of his body against yours.
“Come on pretty girl, I know you remember,” his lips grazed against your cheek settling on the sensitive skin between your ear and your neck.
He pressed a kiss against the sensitive flesh, smiling as he felt your shudder.
“I said,” you swallowed and closed your eyes as he began to suck at your skin. The sensation driving you a little mad.
“Go on,” he instructed, breath warm against your ear.
“Nobody has to know,” your fingers tangled into his curls holding him against you. He hummed against your skin, tongue darting against the spot he just sucked.
“If you don’t want them to,” you finished, relishing the way his teeth grazed against your flesh. The way his warm breath made goose flesh sprout along your arms.
“Is that what you want?” He questioned heart hammering against his ribcage. The same self-doubt sprouting. A little mocking.
“I just want you.” He pulled away to look at you, brown eyes boring into your own. Measuring your sincerity. Not finding a hint of doubt. He swallowed hard and pressed a kiss to your lips, sucking your lower lip between his. The sensation making your toes curl and your hands tangle in his shirt.
It felt like there was electricity in the air, the hair on your arms standing on end as it buzzed around you.
The surface of his tongue dragged against your lip and you slid your own against his, matching his pace. He savored the way you tasted, swallowing your breathy moans as he led you further into the room until your ass pressed into the edge of your sink.
Eddie kissed the edge of your mouth, your jaw, your neck and lifted you to sit on the counter. Your small yelp made him smile against your skin as he pushed your collar aside and began to unbutton your shirt.
“Is this okay?” He asked, voice soft. Hands quickening as you nodded your response. The fabric dropped from your shoulders and into the sink, your breasts only concealed by the thin lace of your bra.
His cheeks blossomed red as he admired you, eyes trained on the bud of your nipples pressed against your bra and swallowed hard.
“You’re so beautiful,” his gaze met yours. Eddie’s voice sounded strained, as though he were struggling somehow and you began to push at the soft cotton of his black t-shirt. Running your hands at the patch of hair that led into his jeans up to his chest. Pushing his shirt up with your ascent and over his head, your teeth sinking into your lips as he stood before you. A new intimacy to the exposed skin you’d seen before.
It was your turn to make him shudder, to make goosebumps sprout as you dragged your fingertips down his abdomen and to his handcuff belt buckle.
Eddie’s eyes darkened as you unfastened it and tossed it aside, his fingertips tracing lines up your arms. Leaving behind a trail of electricity where they touched.
He lowered his head, breath warm against your skin as he placed kisses on your shoulder, peppering them up to your jaw.
He pulled at the straps of your bra and reached behind you for the clasp, unhooking it. Your bare breasts pressed to his chest, heat rising to deepen the color of your skin.
Eddie’s mouth was back on yours in an instant, kisses frenzied.
Need overpowering any thought as he made work of the button of your jeans while you made work of his with clumsy hands.
“Take these off,” you pushed at his chest and jumped from the counter to remove yours until you were in just your panties. Bare chest heaving with excitement.
His breath hitched at the sight of you, his hard arousal less restrained against the material of his boxers.
You kissed him again, slower. Deeper. Teeth grazing his lower lip as you stroked him over the thin material of his boxers. Smiling as he shuddered against your lips you pulled the rest of the material down.
Eddie’s hands dug into your skin as his hard cock sprang free against your stomach, the girth of it making your eyes snap open wide from the touch alone. Your pussy clenched as you thought of the stretch he would be and you needed him inside you.
He pushed your panties down until they fell to your ankles and walked you backward towards your shower, the cold of the glass door making you gasp as it touched your naked flesh.
Briefly, the two of you pulled apart.
Eddie’s pupils were blown, darkened by a different kind of hunger and breathing became difficult under his fixed gaze.
You began to stroke his hard dick rubbing your thumb against his tip, mouth-watering to have him pressed into your cheek as precum leaked down your hand.
Eddie swore he died and went to heaven as he watched you get down on your knees in front of him, your tongue dragging across the underside of his shaft.
“Holy fuck,” he breathed, bucking when you wrapped your lips around his tip. Cheeks hollowed out as you teased him inch by inch until he was pressed against the back of your mouth. It felt like you were swallowing his dick the way you pulled him into your throat, gagging as you looked up at him. Slobber collecting around his cock and dripping down his balls.
His hands fisted in your hair, watching you bob up and down his cock, dragging your hand over his shaft as you did.
Eddie whispered your name and it only made you more needy for his cum, wanting to taste his warm load against your tongue.
“Baby, baby,” his grip on your hair tightened and you stilled, eyes looking up at him with your mouth still wrapped around his cock.
“I’m going to finish before we even get started if you keep doing that,” his voice was a little strained as you pulled back releasing his tip with a small pop.
“That’s okay,” you whispered as you continued to stroke him.
He shook his head and stilled your hand, fingers wrapping around your wrist.
“Not yet,” he lifted you up and kissed your swollen lips as he reached inside the shower to turn the hot water on, steam clouds quickly filling the room.
A small giggle escaped you as Eddie hoisted you up, fingers gripping your ass. Your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist, hands twined around his shoulders as he carried you into the warm water.
Your fingers slipped into the curls at the nape his neck until his chest was pressed against yours.
Your mouths were frenetic, all teeth and tongue. An animalistic need that came over you.
His fingers gripped you tighter as you slid your wet arousal against his shaft. The tip of his cock teasing your tight entrance.
Eddie pulled away and groaned into your neck. Teeth scraped against the sensitive flesh and you moved your head to expose more of the skin to him.
His tongue slid against your pulse, feeling the way your heartbeat thrummed wildly underneath it.
You tangled your fingers into his curls bucking against him, sliding your slick folds against his length, enjoying the way his hands clutched your hips tighter. Trying to hold onto the last of his restraint.
“I don’t have a condom,” he whispered, and you stilled.
“There’s always next time,” you promised with a kiss and Eddie couldn’t believe there would be a next time.
His lips locked with yours as he unwrapped your legs from his waist, setting your shaky legs underneath you.
Agonizingly slow, his mouth trailed down your chest. Tongue swirling around your budded nipple. Pulling it into his mouth with a gentle suck.
Your head fell against the tiled wall, nails scraping at his back as he showed your other breast the same attention. Kneading the other with his free hand.
His kisses trailed down your sternum, tongue grazing against your abdomen. As he neared your mound he lifted your leg, hooking your knee over his shoulder.
Steam billowed around you and against the glass panes, separating the two of you from the rest of the world. Water rolled down Eddie’s back soaking into his hair as his tongue left an agonizing trail up your thigh until he reached your center.
You gasped at the first swipe of his tongue, bucking as he parted your sensitive flesh.
He took his time, lapping at your already dripping arousal. Humming as he tasted you.
“Sweetheart,” he groaned, returning to your thigh to press kisses into your skin. You tilted your head back against the wall, his affected voice playing in your head on a loop.
“I knew you’d be this sweet,” his voice was gruff, vibrating against your inner thigh as he sucked and bruised your skin before returning to your aching cunt.
His tongue darted in and out of your sopping pussy, enjoying the way your quiet moans reverberated off the walls.
The way you bit your lower lip to keep yourself from moaning louder.
He began to rub gentle circles against your bundle of nerves and it felt like your mind became void of thought, ears whirring with the sound of your beating heart.
You wrapped your fingers in Eddie’s hair to keep you grounded, almost losing balance as he pulled your clit into his mouth with a gentle suck.
He teased your slick folds with his finger, prodding your entrance. Gathering your slick arousal before slowly inching inside of you until your walls were wrapped around him.
Eddie’s finger curled inside of you, pressing against your spongy center. A spot you were never able to reach on your own.
It had you seeing stars, moans growing louder and you covered your mouth to muffle the noise.
He groaned, about to cum at the sight of your pleasure with you wrapped around his finger. Slowly he added another digit, stretching you until he was knuckle deep. Your juices dripped down his hand as he quickened his pace.
The lude squelching of your pussy made his eyes roll, his tongue darting quicker over your sensitive clit.
Your grasp on his hair tightened as you began to ride his face, chasing the release you needed.
You bit back your moan and glanced down at him.
Eddie Munson was on his knees in front of you, dark brown eyes watching you as you ground your pussy against his face. His curled fingers darting in and out of your cunt, mouth sucking your clit. Freehand keeping you spread apart for him.
You gripped his hair, pulling at his curls as you began to come undone. Eyes slammed shut, the pleasure deepening until it felt like your entire body was a live wire thrumming, unfurling at your center.
You moaned his name over and over, the only word you knew how to say. No longer able to form a coherent thought as your pussy pulsed with the strength of your orgasm and Eddie didn’t move. Lapping at your release, relishing at the way you tasted as you coated his tongue.
He removed his fingers from you steadily, pressing kisses gingerly to your inner thigh, your abdomen, and up to your breasts until he was standing over you.
Eddie peppered a trail of kisses along your neck and up your cheek until his lips were pressed against yours.
You hummed as you tasted your release on his tongue, dragging your nails up his abdomen and to his chest. Enjoying the way his muscles tensed under your touch.
“Eddie,” you whispered his nickname between kisses, eyes still closed as his mouth worked against yours but your lungs were desperate for oxygen. Burning for a reprieve.
You pulled away slightly and peeked up at him through your lashes. Lungs constricting for a different reason. Obsidian eyes framed by long lashes looked back at you with an intensity that made you swallow harshly. Eyebrow pointed up as he waited for you to continue, to tell him what you’d planned to say.
His face was framed by his dark wet curls as they clung to him, porcelain skin blossoming a rosy pink from the temperature of the water, and holy, Eddie Munson was beautiful.
The kind that made your heart stutter, stop, and start again.
The kind that could have you dedicate paragraphs and soliloquies to describing the intensity of his gaze, the effect of his crooked smile.
The kind that had you staring at his lips, a little dazed and you could blame it on the world-altering orgasm. Could blame it as a side effect of the billowing steam around you. A little suffocating in its intensity.
“Yes, sweetheart?” His gruff voice broke through the silence, your train of thought, nose rubbing against yours and you crooned. Needy hands pushed at his chest and spun him around until his back was the one pressed against the wall.
Your fingers created a trail back down his abdomen and through the patch of hair that led to his cock.
“It’s my turn,” you whispered against his lips and began to stroke his length.
His jaw went a little slack, gaze trained on your teasing smile. 
Watching the way you created circles against his tip, your other hand massaging his balls. 
You pressed a quick kiss to his lips and began a trail over his jaw, settling on the sensitive skin of his neck. 
Your tongue grazed his skin, enjoying the way his dick twitched in your hand as you began to nibble gently. Sucking the sensitive spot into a bruise. Eddie groaned, head tilted against the wall as his hands explored your body. Caressing your tits, pinching your nipples between his fingers. 
His hands moved to your hips as you trailed down his chest, kisses peppered down until just above his cock. You watched him from above your eyelashes, gaze trained on the dazed look in his eye as you dragged your tongue along his shaft. Swirling it along the top, the taste of precum salty against your tongue. You moaned at his taste, eager for him to coat your throat in his release. 
Your head bobbed an inch and off again, teasing. A wicked smile on your lips when you looked up at him. 
Eddie was on the brink of destruction, about to explode from the sight of you on your knees once again and this time he wouldn’t last. 
“Such a fucking tease,” he grunted, fingers rubbing the side of your mouth. Tugging until you opened wider for him. He pushed his thumb in, groaning when your tongue swiped his finger. Sucked on it, releasing it with a loud pop. He rubbed your drool against your lips, watching it bounce back into place and you were back on his cock again. Not allowing him a moment longer to think as you sucked viciously on the tip while you fondled his balls. 
Eddie’s moans grew louder and you clenched your legs together, aching for him to stretch you. The image of him pumping into you spurred you to take him deeper and you pulled him further into your mouth, cheeks hollowed out as you took him inch by inch until he was hitting the back of your throat. 
He knotted his fingers into your hair, guiding your head up and down as you began to increase your pace. Until he was fucking your face. You concentrated on breathing through your nose, your tongue swirling while your hand gripped him. Stroking in sync with the movement of your head. Slobber coating his pubes and dripping down his balls. 
“Holy fucking shit,” he cursed, listening as you gagged around his dick and it felt like you were swallowing him whole. 
“I-I’m gonna come,” Eddie stammered, voice strained. You hummed against his cock, needy for him to finish. He pumped one more time until he was spilling into your mouth, warm come hit the back of your throat. 
You continued to suck on his cock, milking every drop out of him. Ascending to his tip to lick him clean, enjoying the way his tangy spent tasted against your tongue. 
Eddie’s body turned rosy, goosebumps breaking along his flesh. The orgasm rolling through him, felt deep in his gut and he swallowed the deep groan stuck in his throat. 
His fingers were still twisted in your hair and slowly he released his tight grip, eyes opening to see you still on your knees trailing kisses over his softening arousal and back up his torso. 
You smiled as you wrapped your arms around him as if this wasn’t your first time together. Comfortable, shyness tucked away somewhere and hidden from sight.
“Hi,” you smiled at him fondly, voice softer than when you first entered the room. Eddie rubbed an affectionate thumb against the apple of your cheek, fondness evident behind his half-hooded eyes.
“Hi,” he whispered back and held you close, pecking a soft kiss against your lips. Fast as if it were a habit. 
The two of you stood there, warm water hitting your back. Shrouded in steam and under the after-sex glow. The kind of glow that painted Eddie’s cheeks a permanent shade of pink and you didn’t think he could look any cuter. 
“I’m pretty sure I’m going to be late to work,” you giggled. Not eager to move, unsure of what would happen once you did.
“Shit, I forgot that’s why we came back,” he laughed with you. This morning’s conversation felt like eons ago.
“‘S’okay,” you grinned, “Mark will be fine without his AM for a bit. Just need to get cleaned up.” You began to push off his chest but Eddie held you there and reached over for the bottle of shampoo. 
“I can help you get cleaned up,” he offered, already reaching around you and putting too much shampoo onto his palm before you could respond. He rubbed it between his hands before massaging it into your scalp.
The smell of coconuts mixed with a floral scent filled the air as you mulled, enjoying the way his fingers felt in your hair.
“Oh my god-” you groaned, neck relaxing into his touch. Eddie chortled, enjoying the way that you melted into him even more. 
“Does that feel good?” 
“Munson, did I ever mention how talented you are with your hands?”
“I think you may have given me a hint,” he retorted, heavy on the innuendos and you slapped his chest lightly.
“Something about my mouth too,” he added, moving only slightly as you lifted your hand to swat him once more. His fingers still rubbing against your scalp, suds forming and lifting into the air. 
“You’re lucky you’re cute,” you muttered into his neck and his grin grew.
“Little Lipton thinks I’m cute,” he mused but your smile faltered as you pulled away from him. He looked at you quizzically, sudsy hands dropping from your scalp.
“What is it?” 
You pressed your palm to his chest, putting space between the two of you. Taking a deep breath. 
“I’m not Little Lipton,” you sighed, drawing invisible circles into his skin.
“Or Speilberg.” You rolled your eyes because as much as you hated, or pretended to hate, that nickname there was a part of you that felt a certain fondness for it. However small. 
“It’s (Y/N),” you swallowed, “I want you to call me by name.” 
He nodded but you didn’t look at him, eyes focused on the constellation of freckles that dotted his chest. The tattoo he let your brother do several years ago. 
Eddie pushed your chin up so you’d look at him. At the sincerity that hid behind molten honey. 
“(Y/N),” he whispered, your name never sounding any sweeter, and pressed a kiss to your lips.
“Eddie,” and he never realized that his name could ever sound saccharine on someone’s tongue. How it would be to hear it wrapped in affection. A hint of budding adoration. 
He pressed a chaste kiss to your lips, to the tip of your nose before gently pushing your back into the water to rinse the shampoo from it. 
-
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nightdivinity · 2 months
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Drink Responsibly: Chapter 2
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ABO!Vampire!Batfam x reader
Minors! Do! Not! Engage! +18 only!
Platonic!Alfred, Bruce x reader, Possessive! Batboys x reader
Warnings: Bad life choices, possessive behavior, a/b/o, they're vampires, loooong age gaps, no proofreading, we die like men, reverse harem. This is getting sexual. I’m sorry.
Writer's Note: I live, I die, I live again. I’m trying to keep an even pace when publishing, I promise. It’s just that finals week knocked me on my ass. I’ve basically got to prepare week 9 and 10 before it. Graduation is also right around the corner. Besides school and work though, this has also been my only focus. Also, sorry to everyone who reached out. I promise I’m not ignoring the kind messages and everything. I just keep forgetting. I’m so sorry. I’ll try to do better. Also got to write a bio and start publishing the other things I’ve been cooking up. This series is still a top priority though. I’m going to be more consistent from here on out.
When you finally make it back to the manor after a day of detours and horrible karaoke that makes your insides warm and fuzzy, Duke doesn’t let you open your own door. All the being nice was making you itch, and you kind of were missing being a strong independent person. It’s also not that you didn’t give it the good old college try, desperately jiggling the handle to open the door that he child locked as you look out the window in disbelief as he laughed his ass off outside your door.
To get back at him, the both of you ensued the pettiest game of unlocking and locking the doors. You, holding the door closed when he unlocked it and tried to pull it open, and scrambling to the driver’s seat to keep that door closed as well. Would it be bad if you admitted you liked the way his smug pretty face grew determined and slightly irritated? Never mind the dimples, the tick in his sharp jaw had your mind skipping a beat.
It was all fun and games until Alfred, who undoubtedly was watching you from the window, opened the other door just as you held yours shut and taunted Duke. “Can’t even open a wittle omega’s door?”
You’ll never forget the feral boyish smile he gave before sliding over the moving van’s hood and gently pushing Alfred out of the way.
His big frame wedged the door open letting wind into the cabin with enough pheromones to make your eyes water. In a panic you start trying to move away from him as far as possible. Cue, Alfred opening the other door your back was against, and you almost tumbling out.
“(L/N)? Just what on earth are you doing?”, Alfred questioned.
You stare up at the old Beta and your savior. His gloved hand on your back keeping your from tumbling out of the truck cab and busting your head on the gravel. Something all three men on the property were undoubtedly worried about as they watched you dangle too close to the ground. Not that you ever saw the curtain drawing closed from the third story. All you saw was help. Because surely Duke would knock it off with Alfred here.
“I’m poking the bear”, you tell him.
A large mitt, exactly like a bear’s, wraps around your ankle and tugs you out of Alfred’s hands and towards the open car door with a slightly pissed alpha waiting. Oh no. New employment be damned, you are not going out like this.
You scramble for purchase as your dragged across the leather seat. Your fingers digging into the crevice between the driver’s side and middle cushion for dear life. Desperately you try to shake Duke’s fingers off your one good ankle.
“(Y/N), get out of the car. You’re probably hurting yourself right now while doing this”, Duke warns.
There was an unspoken “Are you stupid?” that hung in the air. With Alfred here, the big, dimpled grin has disappeared, giving way to grim determination as Duke looked as though he was five seconds away from peeling the truck’s metal frame apart just to get at you better. You didn’t know what to do, it was better when you two were playing. The air was lighter, and you could breathe and believe he had best intentions at heart. Now you couldn’t keep playing, because he seems to be getting angrier every defiant second you spend clinging to cushions. Which made you want to burrow under the seats even more, away, and safe from the anger.
What you hadn’t noticed was how his anger started the second Alfred intervened. It’s not your fault, a lot has been happening and pissed-off Alphas take priority. The old man did though, and backed the adequate amount of steps away after ensuring you would not tumble out of the cab. If it wasn’t for the promise he made to Bruce to chaperone, and to you when he hired you, Alfred would have taken up the offer the others had given him. A nice vacation, the first he would have taken, just to give you and the rest space to figure each other out. Based on the messages from the family’s missing members, it would have been smart to leave Gotham. Or the continent.
“Don’t tell me what to do” you say.
“Get out of the truck”, Duke replies.
“No. Fuck off. I’m grown up, I can get out if I want.”
“I’m seriously running out of patience (y/n)”
“Good. Leave me alone Duke.”
“Terrible things are about to happen to you.”, Duke warns.
You squint at him and stick your tongue out at him. You know he’s just full of shit and would never do anything to actually hurt you. Nor would he allow you to be in any real danger. He’s got a trick up his sleeve and the muscles in your stretched leg were taut, waiting for release so you can roll and limp away to safety.
There was hardly anytime for you to plan your next step before Duke wrapped his hand around your ankle and starts untying your sneaker.
“Don’t”, you squeal.
He ignores you and gives you another bright smile full of sunshine and mischief. Dear God, he was going to kill you with that look on his face. Totally disarming and distracting as you barely register the shoe and sock getting tugged off.
“I mean it Duke! I give up! Look, see? I’m letting go!”, you beg.
You unclench your fingers and start waving your hands in his face. Trying like hell to sit up and defend yourself. Unfortunately, the hood on your hoodie was caught on the seatbelt latch in the cushion. Preventing you rolling farther away or sitting up and smushing his face away with your freed hands.
“I will never forgive you”, you solemnly vow.
“Yes, you will, look at your face, you’re smiling. You’ve already forgiven me.”
“They stink, I haven’t changed my socks in five days.”
“That’s another lie, I know for a fact that your laundry has been washed.”
“And that’s weird. We’re going to revisit that later though. Let my foot go. I also haven’t taken a shower yet; I ran a five K this morning.”
“In what? Your dreams? You know, I think we should go back to begging.”
You give an enraged shriek that devolves into panicked laugh as he starts torturing every available space on your foot. It was not an enjoyable experience. You were scrambling and flailing to get away but couldn’t since he seemed to have super strength. He also barely swatted your thick cast covered foot you tried to jam in his face. Tears start leaking out the corners of your eyes as you giggle and beg and plead for him to release you. Not that he listened to any of it. He seemed perfectly happy watching you writhe.
The merriment came to about as abrupt and end as it started as a sleek black muscle car growled into the driveway. Duke dropped your ankle and crawled into the truck cab with you. As defective an Omega as you were, you still picked up on the spike of adrenaline and what you thought was panic although it was smothered by anger. You scrunch your nose at the onslaught of pheromones that made you want to bump up and rub against him and soothe in any way you could. Because no. You’re not that kind of Omega.
“Duke?”, you ask.
He must have picked up on the nervous twitching from you. Or the tell-tale patter of your little heart trying to produce enough pheromones to get you out of this situation. Enough to tell the Alpha that’s laying on top of you, tantalizingly close, so close you could hear the clack that the wooden beads in his dreads made as he pressed flush against you. I’m in danger, help me. Is what should have been leaking out of every pore. Yet, you were broken.
“Shh, don’t let him see you.”, Duke says.
That didn’t help the matter. Especially when Duke used his freakishly long limbs to pull both sets of doors closed as quietly as possible. What was happening? Was someone trying to attack Bruce Wayne, billionaire-philanthropist and notorious Alpha who also seems to be in close contact with the most frightening infected Alpha in the country. Merely the thought of the shadow you often saw cast on buildings as dominance battles were fought all over in the different Gotham territories was enough to make you shake. You never saw Batman. No one whoever truly interacts with him lives to tell the tales. So just what is Bruce Wayne that he seems to be in an alliance with such a monster?
“Bruce! Get out here you chicken-shit piss-poor excuse of a sire”, a booming voice shout outside.
A seismic level shockwave rocked through you, and you couldn’t suppress the litany of whines that escaped as you dug your claws into duke’s yellow and black muscle shirt. It was embarrassing, you felt like a pup again.
In all your years you had never come anywhere close to that amount of dominance that was coming out in waves that even rattled the windows. Whoever this was, he was bad news. Even Duke knew it.
Duke’s eyes were flashing gold in the sudden darkness of the cab. You were once again struck by the oddity, but this world is full of strange things. To be fair, you were mostly preoccupied with other things, and you had a feeling that if you started digging into what was going on at the place you were hired then you would truly fall down the rabbit hole.
“Stop moving”, Duke whispers.
His hand wraps around one of your wrists that you had thrown up against his chest. Just for a little breathing room, rather than being pressed face first in a scent gland that would have you dry humping everything in sight. Despite the abject terror at the situation unfolding outside.
“Where do you get off siccing Dick on me in the middle of a meeting?”, the man demands.
You didn’t hear the heavy manor door creaking open. So you had no idea just who this man was talking to. During the struggle with Duke earlier and the tickle fight, you didn’t see Alfred. You doubt the man stuck around during the shenanigans. Which begs the question. Just who was he talking to?
“Really? The silent treatment. You really are too scared to face me huh?”, the unknown man says.
Oh no. That sounded right outside your moving truck. No, nonononononono. You could feel the anger coming off him as it made your teeth chatter.
Your worst fear came true as the driver’s side door, above your head, was ripped open. No. It was ripped off the truck cab in a screech of metal that had you cringing and trying to burrow farther into Duke away from it. You were still stuck on the damn seatbelt thing that was jammed into the back of your neck. All you could do was look up and try not to burst into tears.
Because the man who just opened your door was death. You were teetering between pissing yourself from fear, and trying to control the inappropriate lust that was starting to ride you hard. Because damn. That voice, that dominance, paired with that attitude and face. My God, it’s like he was made perfectly for you. Or any Omega really. A fact that was cemented when the stern bluish-grey eyes that stare down at you flash a crimson red. Sploosh. You seriously needed to get your head checked.
“(Y/N)?”, mystery man says.
“How do you know my name?”
“Bruce told us he got you. Shit. I thought he was just pulling his usual shit”, he swears.
You were about to question who he was and what all was going on, but Duke beat you to it.
“(Y/N) this is Jason. I’m sorry, I didn’t think he would ever come back home. Speaking of what are you doing here Jason?”, Duke says.
Jason straightens, his eyes flashing another dangerous candy apple red color that brought another bout of hot oozing warmth where it definitely didn’t need to be. Not that you needed to worry about it. Like you said, you were broken. Although you couldn’t help but wonder if being by lethal amounts of Alpha fueled testosterone would kick your damaged hardware into gear. Food for thought at a later time.
“I have just as much of a right to be here, if you checked your phone you would know what was going on. Bruce… interfered with a business interaction of mine when I refused to come back to the Manor.”
“So you decided to just go ahead and give him what he wants, really Jay?”
“No. I’m going to kill him. First though, get off of her.”
The callous way he mentioned killing your employer was chilling you to the bone. You bet he could do it to. From the heavily muscled frame that was subtly flexing, his old brown leather jacket creaking as it strained. He took to cracking his knuckles as he stared down at you both. Too make matters worse, there was a small scar that twisted the left side of his face in a permanent smirk as it ran up from the corner of his slips, across his high cheekbones, and disappeared above his ear and into that thick black hair. Hair that contained a curious white streak that made you want to take a closer look. Not that you would. You were smart. Everything about this man shouted danger.
While Duke was massive in his own right, Jason looked as though he could rip linebackers in half for funsies. You believe that those thick corded thighs that your eyes had zeroed in on, the ones that his frayed jeans were struggling to contain, those are rugby thighs. Once again, it’s not your fault, you were born to be this pervy to those of the Alpha secondary gender category. Just like Deltas were made for Betas. This is all evolution's fault that you wanted to climb a psycho killer like a tree and purr. Ooooh, maybe you could get Duke to wear a firema- nope. Annnnnd you’re done. You seriously need to focus if you’re going to somehow finesse your way out of this situation.
“What are you going to do? Make me?” Duke says.
You almost think he’s teasing Jason, then you hear the bite of a challenge to an invading Alpha. Dear God, it’s almost like you’re a kid on the playground again. This was so not fun nor was it sexy. Especially with you sitting so close to the crossfire.
“I said, get off.”, Jason start growling.
Oh good, now we’re slowly becoming dogs. This is great. Totally not borderline psychotic in any way.
“You didn’t want to come back, so you don’t get to have her. Back off Jay.”, Duke warns.
“No one here gets to judge me; you know the reason why the family is so broken is sitting up there. Plotting. If I had known- well- doesn’t matter. Get off before I rip you to pieces. I might till do it, send a fun little message to our psycho father by spreading his precious new pet’s blood all over the front steps.”
“Isn’t that what Dick said to you when you met?”
“Say his name again and I will make good on my promise.”
“Can I just say one thing?”, you ask.
The tension was getting so thick you could cut it with a cheap plastic spork. Honestly, you suspect they could’ve just kept going all night if they had to with the witty one-liners. You were getting tired though, and all this negativity was not good for your heart.
“Hon, not right now, I’m winning.”, Duke tries to shush you.
First of all, how dare he shush you. You had just as much of a right to talk as they did. Duke is different from most Alpha’s you’ve met. The silent prejudice was still hanging in that back of your mind though. Omegas are useless without Alphas. So be a good little one and sit there and be pretty. Don’t ever think of talking. You know he’s not like all the other assholes you’ve encountered. What he just said though started ringing those little alarms that told you he might be though.
“No, you’re not.”, you pause and notice the slight smirk across Jason’s scarred face, “Neither of you are. Can I please get up and get my boxes in while you two have your pissing match?”
Jason lets out a surprised bark, and you give him brownie points for keeping his mouth shut besides that.
“I’ll let you up, once he goes inside.”, Duke tells you.
“No. I want to get up now.”, you say.
Duke’s next response gets cut off as you watch Jason reach over you and grab Duke’s dreads. There was a slight struggle, but the comforting weight of Duke’s body between your thighs is gone within seconds. You almost miss it. You almost feel bad when you finally wrench your hoodie free and look out the truck door and see Duke on the ground with Jason’s hand around his throat. It was ok. You can tell no real weight was being put behind it. It was just one Alpha gently reminding a younger one to submit. You’ve seen this shit all the time.
You also weren’t going to lie; the dominance was definitely starting to rev your engines.
“Please don’t kill him, I need his help with the boxes and my wheelchair”, you call out.
Jason turns to look at you, the red in his eyes damning as he stares into you. Oooh. You can have a lot of fun with that. Maybe you can ask him to pretend to be your sleep paralysis demon that has his wicked way with yo- nope. No roleplaying. No playing with these Alphas in any sexual manner. You need money and a place to stay, and while sex is nice, everyone always moves on to more compelling Omegas that aren’t broken. Besides, you’re pretty sure these Alphas don’t know their strength. Nope, you’re good without all the heartbreak and hospital visits if you go down that route.
“Boxes?”, Jay asks.
“Yeah, I’m moving in, didn’t anyone tell you?”, you ask him.
“No. They just told me- nothing. I’ll help, you don’t need shit-for-brains”, Jay says.
He gets up, slightly pushing Duke’s face to the side and into the muddy wet gravel. You can’t help but wince and give Duke a sympathetic look. Not that he was paying you any mind. His lovely brown eyes were now a liquid gold that screamed revenge. You just pray that he can hold off long enough to get your wheelchair from the back.
“What- what happened to her?”, Jay asks.
“Motherfu- get my chair”, you boss.
“She got chewed on at one of Cobblepot’s clubs”, Duke tells him.
“Shit, none of the others know huh.”, Jason sighs.
He runs his hands through his hair, and you’re stuck looking at it again. It looked fluffy and silky. Of course, it would put you in a trance, the same as the wood beads in Duke’s dreads. You might actually have a thing for hair now that you thought about it.
“No, we’ll have a war when they do.”, Duke replies cheerfully.
“Why?”, you ask. You were genuinely confused as they kept talking circles around you.
“Don’t worry about it Hon. Let’s get you inside”, Duke groans as he gets up from the dirt.
Jason reaches in and lightly grabs your good wrist as he pulls you out. You willingly let him, marveling at that the body made from the gods. Would it be bad if you reached around and gently pinched his ass? It’s just curiosity. So much muscle, how much fat?
Duke looks slightly peeved when he grabs the chair from the back and notices you in Jason’s arms. You couldn’t help but give him a slight smug wave from the safety of King Kong’s arms.
“I like the bell, maybe we should find some streamers for the back too. There’s no way she’ll get lost.”
And just like that, you lost it as Giant 1 and 2 dissolved in a fit of giggles. I’m going to kill them. Hopefully before your hormones and pheromones killed you first. Because damn it, you did seize the opportunity to smack the ass of the jack ass.
That ass is not only iconic and slightly hard, but it jiggled a little too. This is going to be so much fun living here.
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prettydumbslut · 1 year
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Anything.
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Summary :: In which Armin will help his best friend out with anything, even when she’s too proud to ask
Content Warning :: Actor!Armin, Screenwriter!Y/N, she/her pronouns used, written with black reader in mind!, slightly manipulative Armin, liar Armin (what’s new), backshots, choking, impact play(if you squint)
Word Count :: 2.5k+
Milestone Fic! Thank you for 350 and please enjoy!
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You and Armin were best friends since the day you were both born. Your mothers were both best friends and literally planned the both of you at the same time. Same daycares and same schools, same everything your entire lives, even though you and Armin were almost polar opposites.
Armin was what Disney Channel Zendaya wishes she was. He was in every other commercial, every Nike Kids poster and you couldn’t click on any kids tv channel without seeing that blonde ass bob on the screen. He was it but you, not so much, and you were okay with it.
You accompanied him to every set, you were always his plus one at award shows and you were on the sideline of every photoshoot, attached at the fucking hip.
As time went on, you both grew into your own people, but he always made sure you never felt left out, he would always be his best friend and he made that very clear. You discovered your love of writing, and being around lots of directors and movie writers, while being with Armin, you found your love for screenwriting. You knew just about any major movie or tv writer and was winning competitions before you even graduated high school. Armin always made it clear that if you needed any kind of hookup or connection, your best friend had your back, always.
Now, you two were older. Armin had a few major movies and tv shows while you were making a name for yourself. Wrote about a dozen short films and an assistant for the biggest screenwriter in hollywood right now, Onyankapon. Even though you constantly told your best friend you wanted to make your own way up the ranks, he always leaving your scripts with his directors and producers, helping his best friend out with anything she needed. Anything.
You were sitting on your couch, flipping through the finally finished script for thriller-drama you wrote. It was probably two inches thick and took you a year and a half to write. You told yourself you would drop it on your boss’ desk the next morning and right now you were about to chicken out. Before you could get too deep in your thoughts, you heard a click of your front door and you closed the script and perked up.
Of course, it was Armin. Short blonde hair swinging around like it was a wet ‘n wavy, draped in some plaid sweatpants, Essentials sweatshirt and Kappa slides. For a celebrity, he really did hate being the center of attention, so he was usually dressed inconspicuously but now he just looked…exhausted and thrown together.
“What’s up?” He locked your door and plopped on the couch next to you, he laid all the way down with his head in your lap, his hand reaching for the remote like he owned the place.
“Just wondering why you think you live here!” You snatched the remote back from him and started scrolling through channels while he picked your script up in return.
“I do live here, I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He smiled at you and flipped onto his stomach, reading through your script like a ten year old in a chapter book.
“I’m gonna do it tomorr-”
“You’ve been saying you’re gonna put this script on his desk for weeks now.”
“Yeah, but tomorrow’s the day!” You hit him playfully and smiled but he could see through your bullshit. It sounded like you were trying to convince yourself more than him.
“Ladybug.” Armin gave you a look and you just threw your head back and laid on your back, staring at your ceiling. That coined nickname that’s stuck with you since elementary school and those deep blue eyes staring at you, saying nothing but “I see right through you” just made you sigh from frustration.
“You’re an amazing writer. I’ve read it and you’ve spent almost two years on this, it’s really fucking good. Would I ever lie to you?” You laughed to yourself a little. Armin was an avid liar but you were sure he was being truthful about this. You huffed, grabbed the script and put it next to the small table that was next to your door, right next to your purse and keys.
“Okay see! I cant avoid it. I’ll give it to him tomorrow morning, okay? Now, let’s shut up about me, how was your day, ‘Min?” He sat up and ran his fingers through his hair before taking your hand and playing with the fresh set of acrylics you just got. It was a habit he had but you didn’t mind, he was touchy but he never made any creep moves. You were happy you had a best friend that could just be a best friend.
“Nothing much, did a read through of our new episode.” He looked…distant. He was usually thrilled to tell you all about an episode they were recording or the drama that went on on set. Now, he was giving you a ten word sentence.
“Minnie, what’s wrong? Did something happen?” You made him look at you and you gave him a sympathetic frown.
“It’s nothing’ ‘bug, don’t worry about it.” You we’re now giving him the look, your head cocked to the side with your eyes pierced through his.
“The directors want me to do a sex scene..like a real one.”
“And what’s wrong with that? You’ve done erotic scenes before.”
“Yeah, but it’s not just body suits and angles…they actually want us to have sex, on camera.” He took your hand and started fidgeting with it again, while you relaxed against the arm rest.
“Oh, well it’s not like you’re a virgin or anything, what’s bothering you about it?” You poked him in his shoulder every time he avoided your eye contact, you could tell he was getting more and more nervous throughout this conversation.
“I’m just not..super experienced. What if I look stupid?”
Now, according to the media, your best friend, Armin Arlert, was a slut. According to them, he was sleeping with anything that drew breath and had a nice rack. At least once a year there was some instagram model coming out about the “truth about Armin.” About how he led girls on and was a “lying asshole”. But this was your best friend we were talking about! Every time you slickly asked him about it, he’d brush it off and say they were lying to get a piece of his money. He had his hookups that you knew about but it was nothing like what rumors said about him, so you just disregarded it, plus, you didn’t really care.
“‘Min, is that really what you’re worried about? You’re gonna do great and even if you don’t, people will fangirl over it anyways, don’t make it a big deal.” He sighed and transitioned his hand from your hand to your thigh. It was a really sly move but you didn’t think anything of it. He was your best friend and wouldn’t try anything..but the real question was whether you wanted him to or not.
“Yeah, I know, i’m just a little nervous for it, that’s all.”
“Well, how can I help yo-”
“You mean it?” He perked up and turned his whole body towards you and moved his hand up the inside of your thigh, the grip he had on you made you tense up a little bit. It made your mind wander a little. Something…quick and…unmemorable wouldn’t be a problem right? I mean he was your best friend, it wouldn’t ruin your relationship. Plus, Armin would do anything for you. Why would it matter if you did a little something for him?
The next thing you know, your lips are joined with his, you both stripped down, Armin in his boxers and you just in the black thin thong that was getting swallowed by your fat, wet lips.
You were seated on his lap, brain completely shut down from how his large hands were groping and caressing you. They were going from your ass back down to your thighs over and over before he made his way to your clit, rubbing it softly while applying pressure. He inserted two fingers and started pumping them in and out of your sloppy hole vigorously. Meanwhile, you were whimpering like a slut, trying your best to kiss him back while his fingers hit all the right spots.
“Mmm, Minnie, please i’m ready, just put it in already, ‘m beggin’ you.” He placed one last deep kiss on you and slipped his fingers out of you. He made a show of licking your slick off his fingers before he put you on your stomach carefully and lifted your hips in the air. He moved your soaked thong to the side and pulled out his cock. You looked back when you heard him pulling down his boxers and your mouth was practically salivating at the sight. His dick was pretty to say the least. He was big, not a lot of girth but his length could probably touch your lungs. The tip was a pink and swollen and he had some curve to him.
Just the way you fucking liked it.
He used your ass as leverage as he pushed himself into you, your eyes crossed and your jaw slack from the sensation. You then bowed back down and whined from the stretch, you had never hooked up with anyone that made you feel this good from the beginning.
“You’re s’ big, just..be gentle.” Once he felt your cunt flutter around his cock, he started moving. Slow, controlled thrusts, making you moan every time his tip brushed against your sweet spot. The threw his head back and started picking up the pace. You were so tight and your whines only made him get more aggressive and rough with you. Sweet, ole best friend Armin, making you cream and cry like a bitch in heat.
“Armi- ‘Min…slow down, p-please, hah-.” You put your hand behind you and pressed against his abs, trying to slow down his pace. He only grew a sadistic smile and pinned both your hands at the small of your back, while his other hand slapped your ass, leaving your pretty brown skin with a red tint.
“You want me in or you want me out, hm? Don’t want this dick? Just say the word.” You could only look back at him with glassy, watery eyes, drool threatening to spill over your lips as your mind got clouded with how your cunt was being pounded.
“N-no..want you in..’m so c-close, don’t stop, ple-please.” He then let go of your arms and grabbed you by the throat, pulling you up against his chest. He gave you permission to cum and you let out a window shattering moan of his name as you reached your release, though he didn’t let up. He kept feeding you uncoordinated and rough strokes until you started tightening up again, i which he gripped your throat tighter to hold you in place, while he pulled out and came on your ass and lower back, resulting in a pornographic groan from him.
Once you both were down from your highs, he pulled his boxers up and went to your bathroom and got a warm washcloth for you. After all, he practically lived here. He wiped you down and got you your favorite silk pajamas and helped you get dressed, before grabbed his keys and placing a soft kiss to your head.
“Get some rest, Ladybug, got a big day tomorrow. I’ll come check on you later, okay?” You just nodded with a smile and got up, walking him out and locking the door behind him. You put your back against the now closed door and thought about what just happened. Could you really have just fucked your best friend? Would it be awkward now? Armin was the king of making crazy shit seem normal, so you doubted it but you couldn’t help but keep it on the forefront of your mind.
Meanwhile, Armin was in the backseat of his Cadillac Escalade, being driven home while texting your boss, doing what good best friends do. He couldn’t get rid of the smile he was sporting. He had fanaticized about being with you since middle school and now he had it. Maybe he had to make up some fib about a show he finished filming two weeks ago, but you didn’t need to know that. He knew you were stressed over your script and he wanted you to know he’d do anything for you.
Armin : I won’t get into detail but make sure she gets her fucking show.
Onyan : Finally fucked her, huh? Was hoping i’d get to her first. Congrats.
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tyssssssm 4 300 followers i truly appreciate it!! ily all <3333 Reblogs and comments are so so so appreciated !!!
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joelmillers-whore · 7 months
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Hard Light | Chapter 1
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summary: when a new english professor begins teaching your class for the duration of your semester, you can’t help but develop an innocent crush on him. he’s as off-limits as he can be, but that doesn’t deter you in the slightest. after a drunk night, you accidentally email him something that wasn’t intended to ever be seen by anyone. but that doesn’t matter. it triggers a misunderstanding that manifests into an affair with your professor who is twenty years your senior. nothing good could come of this, right? 
pairings: professor!joel x college student!reader
word count: 2.2K
series or one-shot
warnings: 18+ explicit, minors DNI, no mention of Y/N, alternate universe, professor/student relationship, eventual smut, self-esteem issues, workaholic, joel x female!reader, infatuation bordering on obsession (stay delulu friends), some sexual thoughts, masturbation (f), joel being a huge tease lol, (will add more tags as i write)
AN: i am so excited by the response that my joel one-shot got a few days ago and i’ve been itching to get something else out to you all. big, giant forehead kisses for those who want one, i love you all. so, anyway, a mini-series about professor joel is coming at you fast. i’ve written the first few chapters, so expect those in the near future. i’m thinking once a week? this fic is going to be something else and i’m so excited to share it with ya’ll. enjoy, and let me know what you think. find my ao3 here for more content and other fandoms.
You were running late for your shift at the coffee shop on campus, rummaging around your dresser, trying to find the low-cut black top you always wore when you had a shift. You weren’t usually one to feed into the peer pressure of those around you, but push came to shove when you found it nearly impossible to keep yourself afloat as a twenty-something student without the added extra tips from your part-time job.
So what if you had to show a little bit of cleavage? Right? There was no harm. Student loans were a bitch and on top of rent and food costs, you had to get a job at the coffee shop and balance a full course load just to make ends meet. 
A thought popped into your head and you rushed to your laptop, throwing it open as you checked the time; 5:45 AM. If you busted out your lightning-fast typing skills, you would have enough time to catch the next bus and make it to campus with five minutes to spare. If only your crappy second-hand computer would work.
The thing honestly sounded like a chopper engine, getting ready for lift-off. You were surprised you’d gotten this far with it. Not that you weren’t appreciative, your older brother had passed it down and it had relieved a huge weight—  and expense off of your shoulders. 
You tabbed into your school portal, typing in your credentials and selecting your English course. You sighed heavily, as you skimmed over the assignment for this week, something to do with a sonnet that you couldn’t care less about. You loved school but ever since becoming an English major, the spark that you once had for literature sort of just evaporated.
You couldn’t tell if it was because of how busy you were with everything else that you just couldn’t find the time to enjoy it, or the thought that really scared you, you had fallen out of love with it. 
It had been two years of go, go, go and you were, for lack of a better word, burnt out. You’d tried dropping courses last semester, thinking that you just needed a little bit of ease when it came to your course load, but when that didn’t solve the problem and only made things worse for you, you spent the last two semesters trying to catch up and get yourself to a place where you could finally breathe.
But it wasn’t easy. You were only now caught up to where you had been, the illusion that you were someone who could afford to take time off and slow down was a distant memory. 
In bold letters, the words Paid Internship jumped off of the screen. You smiled as you leaned in closer to the screen, making sure you read through everything correctly. This was the break above the surface that you needed, the reprieve that you had been chasing. A paid internship was exactly how you’d be able to make more money and maybe have a little breathing room before you worked yourself into an early grave.
You clicked the mail icon at the top and clicked into a new email, deciding that the worst-case scenario was that you wouldn’t get the internship. All you were doing was inquiring about the application process. Best-case scenario; you’d get it and make some extra pocket money. 
You saw the time, cursing under your breath as you slammed the laptop closed, grabbed your phone out of the charger and ran out of the door. You couldn’t be late, not again. You texted your co-worker Jeremy to open the shop without you and explained to him that you were running a few minutes late, as you barely made it to the bus. You climbed on board, scanned your student pass and found a seat near the back. Your chest was burning from the rush of trying to make it on time, but you could breathe easy now.
You checked your messages mindlessly, scrolling through a bunch of unread ones that you didn’t have the heart to answer. 
Before you knew it, the familiar monuments and buildings of UT Austin came into view, and the subtle change of scenery from downtown to a more densely packed area made your heart skip a beat. It was the same each time you were back on campus. Which, these days, was often. Sliding out of the seat, you made your way to the front, thanking the driver as the bus came to a complete stop. 
The coffee shop was only a short walk from the bus stop but even still you quickened your pace. You didn't want to leave Jeremy alone for long, you already felt bad enough about letting him open by himself. You stifled a yawn as you pushed open the door to the small cafe, leaning your body into the door, slightly cringing at the shrill sound of the bell. 
"There you are", a male voice called, making your head snap up. You wiggled your nose, the familiar timbre of your ex-boyfriend's voice ringing in your ears. "It's about time you got your ass down here". 
You snickered, shrugging your heavy bag off of your shoulder, and dropping it behind the counter, turning around and greeting him with an unamused smirk.
Jeremy and you had gone out for a few months last year, it was your first and, as of right now, the only short-term relationship that you'd had in college. 
Dating your co-worker, even in a relatively small place like the coffee shop on campus, almost always spelled trouble, but Jeremy was not the type to hold something like a failed relationship over your head. He understood that school was a priority for you and making a living for yourself came first, even above something like a relationship. It might not be the healthiest way to live, but it was how it always was. 
Jeremy and you had developed a fast friendship, one that went beyond the romantic relationship that you'd had last year. You parted amicably and now, you had someone you could confide in, someone you could trust. 
"Why don't you say that to my face?", you teased, raising a brow at him over the milk frother you were setting up. 
Jeremy threw his rag down and stalked over to you. "You're snippy this morning", he chided. 
You banged into his shoulder playfully, "Doesn't help that I have to see your ugly mug first thing in the morning". 
You snorted out a laugh and Jeremy looked at you, feigning defensiveness, "Ouch", he paused, returning back to his post near the coffee machine, "Remind me how we ever went out?". 
You scrunched your nose and threw your rag at Jeremy, hitting him square in the face with it, "That was rude". 
He shrugged his shoulder, "You started it".  
You both devolved into a fit of giggles and fell into a comfortable silence, setting up and getting the coffee shop ready for the day. You had a half-day shift to look forward to and then you had class until the late afternoon. The days were long and the nights were longer.
You usually found yourself nose-deep in your textbooks, more often than not, or some classic novel that was required for class, not moving from the couch until your eyes were red and you were seeing double. 
Only then did you retire to sleep, crashing hard until you had to wake up and do it all again the next day. 
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
The coffee shop had been bustling with people since six in the morning, and at one in the afternoon, it hadn't let up, only now you had to go to class. Waving Jeremy goodbye, you sidestepped Tara, the fourth-year who was covering the rest of the afternoon and closing shift. 
You'd crossed the far side of campus, passing by the science building and one of the massive libraries that had acted like a second home to you back when you’d been studying for exams when you were a freshman. You could thank your obnoxious roommates for that one. 
Entering the lecture hall, bodies pressed into you as you weaved through the growing crowd, trying to find a spot in the middle where you could see and hear your English professor. But also blend in with the masses. As if the universe had other plans in mind, and everyone suddenly showed up to the Tuesday lecture all at the same time, you found yourself picking a seat near the front, an exasperated groan leaving you. 
You hated sitting at the front, not because you didn't want to get called on to answer something or because you didn't know the answers, but because you did. You wanted to get through your four years as quickly and unscathed as possible and if people knew, mainly professors, that you knew more about the subject matter than you needed to, you'd surely get called on more often, making you stick out in ways you didn't want. 
It was a terrible curse, going through life with the self-esteem that you did. But it was how you were raised. Blend in. Don't be too loud. Be quiet and only observe. Nerves rapped at your insides when you thought about getting called on when class started. Your heart rate ticked up and you found that your hands were beginning to get clammy, your throat constricting with each breath.
You rubbed your hands up and down your thighs, grounding yourself with the sensation of the material. 
With a jump, you sat up straighter in your seat, being jostled from your thoughts by a loud slam. You snapped your head toward the entrance, eying the person who had startled everyone. It was a man carrying a briefcase.
Your lips tilted up at the edges, amusement tickling you when you thought of anyone using a briefcase nowadays. But here this man was, head down as he made his way to the front of the room, toward the desk. 
You couldn't help keeping your eyes trained on him. On how his slacks tightened around his butt, moulding to the shape and curve of it. You bit your bottom lip out of reflex, your eyes dragging down the length of the mystery man who had crashed your lecture. Maybe he was a TA? Your brows furrowed when you thought about how your professor was nowhere in sight. 
The man with the briefcase placed his case on the desk, turning to face the audience of students who blinked back at him, who now settled down enough to hear him speak. Air caught in your throat when his eyes flicked momentarily to you, and lingered on you for half a second longer than you'd expected. He had massive, warm brown eyes, and soft wrinkles that danced at the edges of his eyes when he smiled, making him seem more boyish than he appeared.
He looked older than a TA would but then again, who were you to judge someone's position in life? You thought that his age did nothing to undermine just how attractive he was, if anything it added to it.  
The man, who may or may not have been moonlighting as your English TA cleared his throat, nodding his head, "My name is Joel, well, Professor Miller to most, but 've always been a little bit more informal than my peers". 
He began to circle the wooden desk nervously, his large hand finding the edge of it and stroking it far more sensually than necessary. You flexed your fingers, gripping the arm of your seat to stabilize yourself. "So, you can call me Joel from here on out... since we'll be seeing more of each other from now on". 
Murmurs began to break out around the lecture hall, and confused and hushed whispers followed. 
Professor Miller— Joel, mumbled something incoherent, and you were unable to hear it from where you sat. He cleared his throat again, "Professor McCarthy has taken a leave of absence, so I'll be filling in for him for the remainder of the semester". 
You crossed your legs, feeling heat rise and a furious blush break out across your face, and shuffled in your seat, a loud creak emitted from it and you stilled, praying that the loud sound had only been heard by you and no one else. But when you lifted your gaze, Joel's eyes were already locked on you, blown and brimming with cautious inquiry. A touch of a smirk graced his lips. 
"And I look forward to getting to know each and every one of you, personally". His eyes were still on you, not ready to release you from their hold. 
His tongue darted out to wet his lips and you couldn't help but stare. You had every reason to look away from him, he was your professor and given the clear age difference, he was someone who was off limits. But when he didn't look away from you either, trapping you with his gaze, your face heated up, suddenly aware that he was purposely staring at you. 
You swallowed thickly, heart hammering as Joel's eyes finally drifted away from you and back to the faces of your classmates. He continued on with addressing the class, and you noticed that he avoided your eyes for the rest of the lecture. 
Only one thought rang through your mind as you tried and failed to focus back on the lecture. This was going to be one long semester. 
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strbymacaroon · 3 months
Text
Silent Love: Ch. 5 - "Good Guy."
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⊹ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐ Chapter Four
Previous Chapter: Project Week
Chapter One: New Roommate(s)
Master-List: Here!
.・゜゜・ 。・゚゚・ ╰┈➤ Sukuna x Reader
⁎̩͙ ⁑̩͙̩͙ ⁂̩̩͙͙ Sypnosis:
When moving out of your dorm and leaving your eccentric roommate goes to shit, you're offered by one of her friends to move in with him... for free! That is, if you don't mind living with two completely opposite college boys.
However, life isn't that easy, and there's a hot asshole around the corner to piss you off. Especially when he's always up late at night when you're studying, purposely trying to get on your nerves in the most perverse way possible.
You hate him.
⁎̩͙ ⁑̩͙̩͙ ⁂̩̩͙͙ Genre:
College/Modern World AU. Multiple parts.
Shameless Smut, Thin Walls, Mildly Dubious Consent, Roommates Fluff and Crack, Slice of Life, Kinda Slow Burn, Oral Sex Vaginal Sex, Slight Age Difference, Degradation Fake/Pretend Relationship, Dirty Talk, Dirty Thoughts, Enemies to Lovers, Spit Kink, Angst, Hurt/Comfort.
⁎̩͙ ⁑̩͙̩͙ ⁂̩̩͙͙ Word Count: 10,040
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・ 。゚☆:  *・ November 27th, 2023 ☽ .* :☆゚.
Monday
The weekend was… tense. 
That pissed you off. 
It still pisses you off.
You’re still hurt, too. 
Yuuji notices, he has yet to ask, but knowing that you came home upset with Sukuna after being happy the whole day with him, he has a feeling he knows the reason. “Do you want to watch this movie?” Yuuji asks, looking over his shoulder. 
You take your eyes off the computer, looking at the TV. “No, that one looks sad.” You look back at your screen, “Can you play a comedy, or something?” You jump up at a thought for a moment, “Oh, wait, I know what, play the movie Selena.” 
Yuuji tilts his head, “Selena?” He turns back to the TV, searching up the name on Netflix. 
You nod, “Mhm, Selena, I have a feeling you’re going to like her.” You continue typing away at the computer while glancing at your notebook. You’re content with all the information you gathered during the week, however, you don’t know how to go about Sukuna’s “Mental Evaluation.”
Now that the two of you aren’t talking–aren’t even looking at each other–it feels wrong to write about him, more a less do your project on him. You sigh, dropping your head on your keyboard, “I hate this project, and I hate Gojo.” 
Yuuji doesn’t respond, already sucked into the movie. Which is what you expected, Selena has that effect on people, even in her young age of childhood. You can’t imagine how Yuuji’s going to react when he finally sees her grown and a singer. 
You shiver, the window no longer flooding the sun’s light, “Yuuji, I’m cold.” You whisper. 
Yuuji waves his hand, “I have some extra blankets in my room, you can grab one–oh! There’s also some snacks in there, too. Bring them so we can watch the movie.” He starts to stand up, “I can help you find them–” 
“No, it’s okay.” You put your hand out, stopping him while you stand up. “You enjoy the movie, I’ve seen it a million times with my mom. I practically have it memorized by now.” Yuuji nods, while you make your way to his room. 
For a moment you pause and look at Sukuna’s door. It’s the same it’s been this whole weekend, closed and silent. It makes your stomach turn. You want to knock, you want to give Sukuna the benefit of the doubt, you really do, but you can’t. A part of you wishes you could go back in time and listen to what he had to say when he called your name on Friday, but you’re scared–no, you're terrified. 
You want to know if he was going to apologize. Yet, another part of you knows that isn’t the case. And that is what scares you. You care for Sukuna, you lik–you shake your head–the idea of him rejecting you, or using you is terrifying. 
What if he just tells you to leave him alone? You can’t bear to hear that again. You can’t bear to be a girl he forgets about. It’s so stupid. You’re being so stupid, you genuinely hate it.
You bite the corner of your bottom lip, pushing Yuuji’s door open and flicking on the switch. Only to quickly realize, it doesn't work, to be honest, you’re not entirely surprised by that, you were expecting much worse. Even when you open his closet and grab the snacks and blanket, you were expecting his unopened lego box collection to fall on you, luckily, it didn’t. 
You wrap yourself with the blanket, and hold the snacks between your arms, “Yuuji, I think I found all of the snacks.” You yell from his room, closing the door behind you, “Your lego sets almost killed me, but–” You feel your stomach drop, your words dying. Your fingers almost go slack, but you catch yourself, tightening your grasp on the snacks in exchange. 
Sukuna pressing his lips together, his eyes moving up and down your frame, before naturally looking at the women besides him. He can see your expression sour from the corner of his eye, and it makes his stomach turn uncomfortably. 
The blonde woman laughs, “Oh, hi, baby. It’s been a hot second, huh?” She gives you a satisfied smile, her hands hanging on her hips, “Interesting look you got going there.” She points at you, her finger moving up and down your outfit. 
It feels weird… knowing that he’s looking at you after actively avoiding you the whole weekend, and refusing to even breathe in your direction. You give both of them an uncomfortable look, “I’m home? What do you expect me to look like?” You want to move past them, you really do, but that feels embarrassing and uncomfortable. Besides… you’ve made a point to only wear your cute pajamas now that you live with two guys. 
She wrinkles her nose, “Who knows.” She turns to Sukuna’s door, pushing it open with confidence. “Something that looks even a bit cute.” She enters the room with a happy skip, leaving you and Sukuna alone in the hall. 
You look to the side, a bit of a hurt expression gracing your face. 
Sukuna mindlessly mirrors your body language, but keeps his eyes on you. He’s observing you, looking at the snacks in your hands, along Yuuji’s thick blanket wrapped around your shoulder. He can hear his little brother watching a movie in the living room, a part of him wonders if it’s a movie night. Another part of his wonders if he can–
“Can you move?” Your eyes are still looking away from him, your fingers tight around the bags of snacks, you can hear them crinkle underneath your fingers. “Yuuji’s waiting for me.” 
Sukuna bites the inside of his cheek, nodding. He pushes himself to the wall, watching as you pass him. He can smell you shampoo and perfume, he can also see the way your eyes look a bit glossy. But, he doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t know what to say, and most importantly, he doesn’t want to say anything. 
You bite your bottom lip the moment you enter the living room, quickly wiping your eyes as you move behind Yuuji. Hugging him from behind while the blanket engulfs both of you. You close your eyes, sighing into his trapezius, completely relaxing into his body. You’re a bit surprised he can hold up your whole weight without even flinching. 
Yuuji keeps his attention to the screen while asking, “You okay?” You nod into his shirt, letting your arms drape over his shoulder as you hold him close. He just nods, leaning into you and taking one of the snacks you took from his room. 
You open your mouth, your eyes blurring and turning glossy again as Yuuji pops a chip into your mouth.Stupid Sukuna. Why is liking you so fucking hard? 
“I think I’m in love.” Yuuji mindlessly mumbles.
You laugh a tiny bit, moving away from him and back to your computer. “Don’t worry, I was too.” You’re back to typing away, stealing glances at the TV, but mostly Yuuji. Drinking up all his reactions to the movie. “Hate the way it feels, though.”
“I invited Nobara and Megumi.” He tells you randomly, looking at you with glossy eyes. “I’m sorry, but this movie is too good to watch alone.” He wipes his eyes with the back of his hands, “I also told them to bring pizza and tissues.” He smiles to himself, “Also those delicious cheese sticks from Claim Jumpers.”
You smile, happy Yuuji can give you some semblance of a break. If anything, you’re more than grateful you’ve met Yuuji. Of course, technically, he is the one who brought you into this mess, but is the same one who manages to make everything feel better. 
You nod into him, “Great call, babe.”
Megumi’s eye twitches, “What the hell is going on?” He’s looking at you like you're the reason. Which… you are, but he’s not supposed to automatically assume that. “Why is Yuuji crying…? Again?” Megumi places his hand over his eyes, and you swear you can hear him whisper, ‘Why is he always crying?’
You sheepishly play with the end of your shirt, “I introduced him to Selena, and this is the first time he’s seeing the movie.” You scratch your cheek, glancing back to Yuuji with a worried expression, “Uh, I didn’t expect it to affect him… this much.” 
Megumi furrows his eyebrows, his eyes twitching for a moment, “Oh…” He places the pizza on the dining room table, along with passing Yuuji the box of tissues. “I thought he was joking, but…” He’s giving Yuuji and uncomfortable look. 
Nobara looks at the screen, shaking her head. “Ah, no, it’s Selena. Completely reasonable.” She pops open the pizza box, picking a silence. “Cried my eyes out the first time she showed me this movie.” She bites the pizza with a distant expression, mumbling, “Memories.”
You grab a slice too, “I did, too. I just thought Yuuji would absolutely love Selena.” You glance at him, watching as he’s absolutely engrossed in the movie, you laugh a bit before grabbing a napkin and sitting down next to him, lifting the pizza to his mouth so he can take a bite. “Besides, this is supposed to be sad.” 
Megumi looks at the screen, “The music is nice.” 
“How can you listen to this song and not cry?” Nobara adds, however, she's eyeing you and Yuuji. “Dreaming of you," is a certified cry song. Something you listen to when your heart is breaking, you need a good cry, or just need a good song to listen to.”
You nod feverishly, agreeing with Nobara. Passing Yuuji another bite of his pizza. “Nobara gets it, Megumi, we just need to convert you now.” 
“Hard pass.” He sits down at the table, scrolling through his phone. 
You laugh. 
“You and Yuuji seem close.” Nobara sits down next to you with a smile, “Something happened during the week you’ve been here?” She wiggles her shoulder suggestively, passing you a look you can’t help but roll your eyes at. 
But, it’s quickly replaced with shock when her words settle in your mind, “It’s only been a week?!” There’s actually no way. “Oh my god, please say you’re lying.”
“It hasn’t.” Megumi shakes his head, which gives you some form of relief, before he quickly adds, “More like two.” For some reason, that makes it even worse. 
You’re almost spiraling at that, how the hell has it only been two weeks?! You blink a few times, “Uh, that’s amazing…” You let Yuuji take another bite of the food, “I genuinely don’t think that I’m going to make it till the end of finals.” 
Nobara leans her head on your shoulder, but a small worried look graces her face. “Hey, are you okay?” She examines your face, noticing the bags and dreariness in your eyes. “You look rough. Mostly tired.” Then, she gasps like a madwoman, her eyes growing with excitement. “Wait, don’t tell me! You and Suk–”
“I won’t tell you.” You cut her off, taking an aggressive bite into the pizza. Only to remember that the pizza isn’t yours, it’s Yuuji, and you internally scold yourself. You look at Yuuji, then Megumi, then back at Nobara, whispering, “At least, not right now…”
This makes Nobara light up, “Oh my gosh, I can’t wait!” She whispers back excitedly, jumping up slightly. She grabs your shoulders, wiggling you, “I’m actually so jealous, I can’t believe you actually—“
“Stop assuming things.” You whisper aggressively, narrowing your eyes, “I’ll tell you later.” You pout, looking at the screen with furrowed eyebrows. “That’s if I still like you by them.” You mumble.  
“I’m totally sleeping over.” Nobara says with a smirk, letting her head fall on your nape, “Girls night, you need to fill me in on all the shit the two of you did together.” 
Yuuji passes you a questionable look, which makes you groan, pushing her away and mumbling, “Shut up.” Yet, Nobara is quick at your side again. 
“Did you bring the cheese sticks?” Yuuji asks, looking at Megumi, he cocks his head in your direction, “We’ve been waiting patiently for them.”
You swear you imagined it, but you swear that you can see Megumi's subtle smile. Looking down at his feet while he bites the side of his cheek, a small huff of air leaving his nose. His voice comes in shaky as he says, “C-Cheese sticks?” 
Nobara burst into a fit of laughter, falling on her back while she points and laughs at the two of you. You give her a questionable look, confused on her amusement, “What? What’s so funny?” You look at Yuuji for support, only to see his equally confused expression, “We literally just want our cheese sticks.” 
Nobara’s laughter grows more frantic, while Megumi’s subtle smile turns into a full on laugh.
Yuuji raises an eyebrow, tilting his head to the side, you mimic his actions. “What? They’re good?” He says quietly, confused on what could possibly be so funny. 
Nobara points at Yuuji, trying to collect herself as she forces out, “W-Wait, you call them cheese sticks?” She wipes her eyes. 
Yuuji’s eyebrows furrow, absolutely confused. “Yeah? What… what else would they be called?” He laughs awkwardly, passing the two of them an unsure smile.
Nobara looks at you for a second, laughing lightly. “Yuuji, babe, love of my life. Man I will marry, and love for the rest of my days. Pray that one day I will die hand to hand with.” She hugs him, pushing you out of the way. “They’re called mozzarella sticks.” She whispers. 
Yuuji shakes his head, “Yeah, no. They’re not.” He looks at Megumi, desperately in your opinion, “Megumi, tell her. They’re cheese sticks, right?” There’s a bit of uneasiness in his voice, almost shaky.
Megumi slowly looks to the side, taking a bite of his pizza. “Yuuji…” He softly starts, keeping his composure, “I could’ve sworn we talked about this a little while ago, and..” 
Yuuji shakes his head, “Don’t tell me.” 
Megumi nods, “I’m sorry to tell you… again.”
“I feel sick.” He grabs your shirt, calling your name desperately, “Be here for me, be on my side, what are they called…?” You swear you can see some tears pearling in his waterline. 
“Uh..” You pass an unsure glance at Nobara, “Are they really called mozzarella sticks?” Your question is just as uneasy as Yuuji is right now, and you think rightfully so. Was your whole childhood a lie?
Nobara gives you a somber look, looking down and closing her eyes. Almost as if you told her your favorite celebrity had finally gotten into a relationship with someone. “I’m… not sorry.” 
Yuuji hunches over, grabbing his stomach. “Wow…” He whispers, “I feel like my life has changed.” He shakes his head, grabbing his mouth, “And, not for the better…” You pat his back accordingly, this is just as equally as a tragedy to you, as it is to Yuuji.
“So, every time I’ve gone to Claim Jumpers with you guys and asked for cheese sticks, the waiters just?... never corrected me?” Yuuji looks absolutely shocked, passing you a glance, “So, yesterday when we ordered some, we must’ve looked like dumbasses.” 
You let out a breath of disbelief, “What the hell…?”
Nobara plots herself on the couch, letting out a satisfied sigh, “I can’t believe you idiots thought they’re called cheese sticks.” She waves her hand cockily, “If you guys look like idiots, obviously the two of you are.”
Yuuji narrows his eyes at her, “Did you even bring them?” 
Nobara loudly laughs, “No.” 
“So, tell me babe.” Nobara slides the shirt you lended to her over her head, then jumps on your bed. “What’s going on between you two? Friends with benefits, situationship, maybe even secretly dating?” She smirks to herself, whispering, “Secretly dating…” One more time for good measure. 
You kick your lounge shorts to the side, bending down and grabbing some sleeping pants to keep warm, “None of that, Nobara.” You push your hair over your shoulder, “You and your imagination, I swear.” 
“Not true, I’m just trying to get the juicy details.” She gives you an annoyed look, pointing at your body, “I’m sorry, but with how hot you are and how unfairly hot Sukuna is, there had to be so much sexual tension, I’m so upset I couldn’t have seen it.” 
“Nobara!” You say, a bit louder than you would’ve liked. “I don’t like him right now, and you’re making it really hard for me to take you seriously.” Your face is burning up, her implications slowly starting to get to you. 
“Yeah, sure, honey.” Nobara places her hand over her lips to hide her catty smile, looking to the side and singing, “I’m sure you “hate” him.” She uses her free hand to make a lewd motion that looks similar to intimately shaking a soda bottle. 
You feel your eyes twitch, your face burning up even more. “Oh my god. I’m goin–I hope you kill yourself.” You place your face in your hands, shaking your head, “No. I’m going to kill myself, I swear…” 
She laughs, leaning back in your bed and picks up the stuffed bunny she gave you long ago. “You love me so much, I know, I know.” Yet, her face falls a bit, “Okay, but, seriously. Are you okay? You look… tired. More so than normal.” 
You press your lips together, moving to your vanity and sitting down in front of the mirror. Pulling at the bottom of your eyes, “Yes.” You shrug, “I don’t know, but…” You sigh, already knowing Nobara is going to absolutely lose her mind, “The whole week was–” You shake your head, just pull off the bandaid, “We did something on Friday at the party.” 
Nobara blinks a few times, before screaming into the bunny excitedly, “No way! No way! Yes, way!” She wiggles her shoulders, hugging the bunny, “You have to tell me everything that happened, did you suck him out?” She loudly gasps, “Did he suck you off? Or… eat you out?”
“No!” You yell at her, throwing a lipliner at her head. Which she dodges with ease, you turn back to the mirror, “Oh my god, can you like not for five seconds?” 
Nobara gives you an exasperated look, “What? I’m sorry but, can you blame me?” She taps her chest, “You’ve never done anything with anyone, you can’t be mad because I’m excited for you.” She does sound excited, but you wish it was directed somewhere else right now. 
You grab a wet wipe, removing your makeup, “I know and I would be too, if it wasn’t for–” You falter, your hand pausing, “Right before I…” You feel your face heat up, “When I was close to finishing, he–” 
Nobara tilts her head, sitting up in your bed and looking at you through the mirror. “Close to finishing? He was getting you off?” She smiles a bit, “Babe, you can’t throw these hot single lines at me and not tell me the juicy details.” 
“..Yes, he was… you know.” You let your eyes move to the side, “We were doing stuff at a party… in a laundry room, while my clothes were getting washed.” 
Nobara gawks at this, “Oh my god… I’m so jealous.” She shakes her head, “Okay, I’m sorry, actually continue now.” 
You continue whipping your eyes, “Remember how I told you about our deal? About how we’d only be friends for like a week for the project, then just kind of forget about each other?” You press your lips together. 
Nobara looks to the side in thought, “Maybe, I don’t–just tell me what happened?” 
“He threw it in my face while we were doing that.” You bite your bottom lip, “Told me he was happy I finally gave in before the week was over.” You toss the makeup wipe on your desk, pushing yourself away from the vanity. “I just–I like him, Nobara, and I know I shouldn’t, but I do. And, I thought he liked me too, he was starting to be… human, but I guess not…” 
Nobara wraps her arms around you, “Oh, babe, I’m so sorry.” She rubs your back, pulling away while her hands stay on your shoulders, “I genuinely feel so shitty now, I really didn’t know. You don’t deserve that.” 
“You were distracted by his hot face.” You give her a small smile, but there’s some pain littered through it. “I don’t blame you, I was too.” 
Nobara laughs for a moment, “I get it, my asshole has a hot face, too.” She leans close, her cheek touching yours, “He also knows how to use his hands.” 
“Tell me about it.” You pull her on your bed, pulling the thick blanket over your heads. Creating a small fort of sorts. “And now he’s in his room with the girl he told me he blocked.” You think for a moment, “Actually, it’s the girl he blocked twice, one of them then he told me to do.” 
Nobara makes a face, it’s a bit smug, “Okay, I know we hate him right now, but like…?” She lifts her hands, moving them up and down as if she were balancing something. “Ate…” She laughs a bit, “Devoured… I fear.” 
You place your hand over your mouth, shouting a small, “I know.” Before shaking your head, “Okay, stop, I’m supposed to hate him right now.” You look to the side, “But, yeah, I totally ate that shit up. He could’ve asked me to strip and I probably would’ve done it.” You shake your head, “Back on topic. Hate him, we hate him.” 
“Back to hating him.” Nobara says completely seriously. Creating an ‘x’ with her hands. “He’s not even that hot.”
You nod in agreement, before thinking, “Well… let’s not be crazy here.” 
Nobara sighs, “I know..” She says a bit disappointed, “I thought lying to ourselves would make us feel better, but I’m afraid I feel the same.” You nod in agreement. 
Your eyes light up, remember something, “By the way, I hope you brought some headphones.” You reach for yours, wiggling them in the air. 
Nobara gives you a questionable look, before slowly saying, “Why?” She takes them from you, allowing her fingers to run over the cold metal. They’re heavy, and feel really nice. She puts them on, and instantly notices their sound proof. 
That makes her stomach turn a bit. 
You pull them off her head, letting them fall into your lap. “Haven’t I told you what happened on my first day here?” You tap your bottom lip, thinking for a moment, “I could’ve sworn I did…”
“You probably did.” She falls back on your bed, getting comfortable in your soft sheets. “Sometimes I just stop listening, you tend to yap a lot.” She cattily smirks, closing her eyes completely pleased with herself. 
“I will make you sleep with Yuuji tonight, Nobara. Don’t test me.” You deadpan, grabbing a pillow and slapping it over her face. She dramatically puts one of her hands in the air. You smile at this, “I know you’re not going to be happy with how loud he snores.”
“No! Not again, I’ve been hit!” She laughs into the pillow, “Oh, but please do. I’m sure adding more blackmail into my Yuuji collection will make me happy.” She pulls the pillow away from her face, tapping your cheek. “There’s no winning for you here, babe.” 
You slap her hand away from your face, “I hate you.” 
・ 。゚☆:  *・ November 28th, 2023 ☽ .* :☆゚.
Tuesday
Eating breakfast with Yuuji is an activity you didn’t think you would miss, until right now. 
Yuuji hands you a paper towel, “Now, watch me.” He places the paper towel over the bowl, covering the flakes underneath the towel. “Watch carefully.” He whispers, now placing his palm over the towel and applying pressure to it, crushing the flakes underneath his palm. 
“Why are we–how does this enhance the eating experience, Yuuji?” You mimic his actions, feeling the flakes awkwardly poke and prod at your skin under the pressure.
“Trust me, I’ve done this since I’ve gained consciousness.” Yuuji reassures, peeling off the paper towel and looking at the now small flakes, then nodding to himself in approval. “Perfect, now we can add the milk. 
You remove your towel and allow Yuuji to pour in the milk, swirling your spoon in the food. “Okay, and I’m allowed to eat it now, right?” You narrow your eyes at him suspiciously, “You won’t throw out my food again, right?” 
Yuuji sighs, taking a bite of the cereal while mumbling, “Don’t patronize me.” 
You follow suit, taking a bite of the food and humming with satisfaction. “Yuuji…” You begin, chewing your food slowly to build suspense. Placing your finger in a curve above your lips. 
Yuuji’s eyes light up with excitement, nodding his head excitedly, “Yeah!” 
You nod a few more times, taking another spoonful and chewing slowly. “Yes, I see.” You look him dead in the eye, “It’s… exactly the same.” That’s not a complete lie, but you can admit it’s more fun to eat now. Less poky and hard. 
Yuuji collapses on the floor, crumbling to his knees. “You kill me a little every single day.” He sticks his tongue out, a small ‘bleh!’ leaving his mouth, “If I die at the ripe age of forty, I’m blaming you.”
You laugh, patting his head while you continue to eat your food. “It’s okay Yuuji, I’ll probably be in my death bed right next to you.” You quickly finish your meal, placing it in the sink while lowering Yuuji’s bowl to his height. Allowing him to take it from your hands and continue his food. 
“I’m going to be getting ready.” You pat his head again, a part of you tempted to kiss his head, but you suffice with the head pat. “You enjoy your food, babe, I’ll be getting changed.” You start to walk to your room, before pausing for a moment, “Also, I’m not going to my classes today.” 
Yuuji stuffs his face with food, while his eyebrows pull together in a worried expression. “What, why?” He stands up, shoving his plate in the sink. “Are you not feeling well? Or, did something else happen?” He’s worried, which is endearing.
“No, I’m okay.” You reassure him, and continue to your room with Yuuji behind you. “I just have some work to catch up on, and some other stuff happening.” You wave your hand dismissively, “Some family stuff I need to work out with my parents.” 
Yuuji pouts, “Oh, I hope everything works out, then…” He scratches the back of his neck, his cheeks tinting in red ever so slight, “If… if you have anything you want to talk about, I know Nobara is your best friend and all, but you can talk to me, too.” 
You stop, looking at him from your shoulder with a bit of a dumbfounded look, before a smile builds on your lips. Immediately turning on your heel and hugging him, arms snuggly around his torso. “Don’t worry, Yuuji, it’s nothing bad.” You squeeze him a bit tighter, then pull away while smiling at him. “And, thank you.” You tilt your head, “I hope you can also come to me with any problems you might have.”
Yuuji smiles at that, nodding eagerly. “I promise I will!” 
“You make it sound like you’re going to look for a reason to cry in my arms now.” You move to your door, pushing it open with a small huff. 
“Maybe, I am.” Yuuji grabs his red converse and sits down on the floor to put them on, “Uhg! Ouh!...” He groans, placing his fist against his chest as if he stabbed himself, “I think I’ve been stabbed, or worse…” He lets his head fall, “I think my childhood trauma is coming back again.”
You laugh, moving from your door and hugging his head, pulling it into your chest. “Awh, my poor poor baby, it’s okay.” You tap his head, kissing his hair. “It’s okay, it’s okay, I’m here.” 
Yuuji lets his hands fall slack to his sides, you can feel his lashes blinking, tickling your skin slightly. “I…” He slowly starts, a bit unsure, “Uh, I don’t know if I weirdly like this, or really, really hate it.”
You loudly laugh, finally standing back up, “Maybe, you’re touched deprived.” You enter your room, “It’s okay if you are, Yuuji, we all are.” You glance at your room, the clock on your drawer catching your attention. It makes you loudly gasp, “Wait, Yuuji, it’s almost time for the bus to be here!” 
Yuuji panics, shoving his shoes on while not bothering to tie the laces. “Oh crap! I completely forgot about the time!” He pushes himself on his feet, running into his room and grabbing his bag, sloppily throwing it over his shoulders.
You giggle a bit, pushing yourself on the hallway wall and letting him pass you, “Have a good day Yuuji, I’ll wait for you to come back.” You kindly wave goodbye, but it’s not returned, which you don’t dwindle too much on. 
You move to your room, picking out an outfit which was somewhat suitable for a nice day in, while being equally as comfortable. Some black yoga pants, with some white socks and matching leg warmers, along with an oversized gray sweatshirt.
You’re quick to grab your computer, opening it up only to get an unfavorable reminder of the unfinished project you have yet to complete. It’s definitely… close to being complete, but close in the sense of; You feel like it’s only a few more paragraphs, but the moment you start writing you realize how much more you have to add before it’s actually done. 
Whatever, you have the whole day to try and complete it. 
You open your contacts, click your father’s name for a facetime and hold your breath until he picks up. You’re immediately greeted by his forehead when he does answer, which makes you stifle a small laugh. 
“Hi, dad.” You whisper, waving politely as you scoot back and lean on your bed, your computer propped on the small coffee table, “You need to bring the phone back more, so I can see you.” You say with a small laugh. 
“Oh.” He extends his arm all the way, letting you see the room he’s in and a good chunk of his body. “Is that better?”
You laugh, nodding your head, “Mhm, it’s perfect.” You grab a blanket, wrapping it around your shoulders, “You can set up the phone on something, that way you don’t have to hold it.” You point at the desk behind him, “Set it up on your desk.”
You dad nods, setting up the camera–with a few slips–and nodding to himself in pride once it sits comfortably on the light. “I got it, baby, I told you I could do it.” He gives you a cheeky thumbs up, before narrowing his eyes at the phone. 
You mimic his actions, before crossing your legs over one another, “Do you like the place? I get free accommodation for this month.” You say with an unsure smile, twisting your computer to let the camera record the whole room. 
“Nothing is for free…” He tells you with an unimpressed expression. 
“No, I’m very much living here for free.” You push your hair behind your shoulders, “Although, I do have to live with…” You cringe, taking in a deep breath. “I have to live with two brothers…” You awkwardly wait for your father’s reaction, but it doesn’t come. Which makes you feel even worse if he just scolds you. 
He thinks for a moment, “Are they making you clean or cook for them? Or worse?” He grabs his chest, “...Are they–are they distracting you from your studies?” He seems extremely distressed by this idea, almost tearing up.  
You slap your head, “No, dad, they’re not distracting me from my studies, or making me clean or cook for them.” You lean on the table, resting your cheek on your hand, “You already know I can’t cook for the life of me.” 
Your dad thinks again, “Huh, I guess you’re right.” He sighs, “What are we going to do with you?” He stands up, “Here, I’m guessing you want to see your mom, I’ll go get her for you.” He pretends it’s a chore, dragging his feet on the ground, while loudly sighing, before laughing to himself and prancing away. 
You giggle, waiting patiently for your mom. When she does, she sits on the chair of the desk, passing you a small wave. Her face is extremely relaxed, drooping a bit. 
You wave with a smile, “Hi mom.” 
You watch as she lifts her hands, waving back. Her face remains the same, uninteresting and droopy. Paralyzed, and unable to move. But, you know if she could, she would smile back at you. 
You feel your bottom lips wobble, before you narrow your eyes at her, “Have you been taking your meds? I know you tend to get off them.” You point your finger at her playfully, “I know you tend to go long without them, too. It’s probably why you can hear colors now.”
She laughs, but it’s more gargled and tiresome, mumbled in an inhuman way, her face remains the same, but her throat contracts with her laughter. She lifts her hands, telling you, “I have been taking them, doctor.” 
You nod approvingly, finally looking at her face again, “Good. I don’t want to make a call again.” It’s a bit humorous now, but not three weeks ago when your dad—with full seriousness—screamed at you, ‘She’s off her meds!’ Which… is the situation boiled down to something funny and simple. It unfortunately didn’t feel like that when it happened. 
“You are living somewhere new? I heard you said for free.” Your mother tells you, her hands are a bit shaky with age. It’s something you’ve grown used to. 
“Yeah, I made a friend and they offered their place to me when the original apartment didn’t work out.” You sigh, waving your hand dismissively, “I’ll tell you all about it when I come for Christmas. It’s a long story.”
Your mom pauses for a moment, and you know, if it weren’t for her paralyzed face, she would be smiling at you right now. It hurts when you think about something in that nature. “Can not wait to hear, baby.” 
You nod, a bit of worry falling over your face, “Are you okay? I’m sorry I had to leave so fast, but I couldn’t miss another week of school.” You shake your head, scratching the back of your head. “I’m actually really behind right now, and had to skip today…”
“Naughty girl.” She shakes her head, “I thought I taught you better. But, I’m alright, just a bad episode. Nothing I couldn’t tough through.” She taps her face, looking at it through the call, “Besides, who knew it would be that bad, right?” 
You can’t help but feel your chest tighten a small bit, “Yeah…” You lean to the side, trying to find a way to change the conversation. “But, uhm, how has the family been? Anything interesting happened in the few weeks I left?” You pass her a shaky uneven smile. 
“Thank you for coming.” Your mother tells you, “I’m sure it was scary to receive that call, I’m sorry I put you through that.” Ever since you were a teen, she developed the ability to read you like an open book. 
You pass her an empathetic smile, shaking your head softly, “Don’t worry, I was just freaking out. Besides, I’m always happy to help, it’s why I stayed so long, mom.” You wave your hand reassuringly. “I love you.” 
She nods, lifting her hand. She points her pinky up, then, her pointer and thumb. Followed by her pinky and thumb, while she presses the rest of your fingers to her palm. It’s a phrase you’re more used to reading from her, than you are hearing from her. “I love you.” 
It makes your chest squeeze, your eyes glossing over just a bit. 
The rest of the conversation is brief, saying a quick hi to your sibling, and telling a few details about your academic life. Mentioning a few names such as Yuuji, Megumi, Nobara, and–of course–Sukuna. Of which she picks up on an unsure eyebrow quirk. 
She is all over that. All of which you shut down immediately. Well, not immediately… or very firmly. But, enough to where she’s sufficing with a small head nod.
Even when the end calls, you’re still reeling in slight embarrassment, cupping your face as you try to calm down. Curse, Sukuna. He can go away forever. Speaking of Sukuna, you really need to give that project more of your attention. 
You instinctively reach for your phone, for the video message recorded on it, only to remember, “Shit, I left it in the kitchen.” You open your door, moving to the kitchen. You can hear a muffled conversation, which you don’t think much of–unfortunately–in favor of your cellular device. 
You falter for a moment when your eyes land on the couple standing at the front door. Sukuna’s back is to you, leaning on the door frame, while the blonde woman is talking to him with a sweet smile. An airy laughing while occasionally pushing his shoulder, chest, or arm
You instantly want to turn back, come back to retrieve your phone in a few minutes, but before you can do that, you and the blonde woman lock eyes. Her sentence or obnoxious laugh–you can’t tell what the difference is–coming to a quick pause. 
She waves, grabbing Sukuna’s arm while saying, “Awh, look! It’s your little roomie.” She smiles, when Sukuna finally turns to look at you, “You should probably spend some time with her, I know she’s jealous since I have your attention.” 
You glare at her, hate and spite brewing in your head, venom to spite back at her bubbling your throat and burning to be let loose. But, you compose yourself, passing her a simple eye roll and walking to the kitchen to retrieve your phone. 
“Damn, looks like she’s scared of me.” She whines, “Looks like you aren’t his favorite anymore, huh?” She sings, tilting her head to the side, to peer at you from the door frame. “Don’t worry, I completely understand, I would be upset if I wasn’t his favorite toy anymore–”
“You’re ugly, and your sexy face is absolutely horrendous.” You tuck your phone into your yoga pocket, “I would know, I saw the picture.” You loosely point at Sukuna, “In fact, we laughed at you. Then, he told me to block you, for the second time.” You blink a few times, “Babe, we both know you’re not even a toy to Sukuna, you’re just a fly.” 
She blinks a few times, her eyes moving to Sukuna in some form of support, only to see it not given to her. It’s just a side profile of Sukuna looking at you while he bites the inside of his cheek. Is the fucker trying not to laugh at her?! She scoffs, turning on her heel and leaving the house. Slamming the door behind her. 
You’re upset, and Sukuna can see that. 
“You know, some support would’ve been nice?” You whisper, but your voice grows with spite as you add, “Defending myself is fucking embarrassing. Especially when you’re fucking her while I’m in the same house as you.” You go to the kitchen to grab your phone, tucking it into your pocket once you finally get it in your hands. 
Sukuna doesn’t say anything, “Things aren’t lik–” 
You shake your head, “I don’t want to hear it.” You wave him off, making your way back to your room. “You’re clearly too caught up in old nasty habits to be talked to.” You huff, instantly hugging yourself for some weird form of comfort.
Sukuna’s eye twitches, and something inside him snaps at your words. He doesn’t know why, but it sets him off, all the weird and unknown emotions from the weekend bubbling up and spitting venom at you. “What the fuck is your problem?!” Sukuna barks at you, moving after you with heavy footsteps. 
You instantly turn on your heel, making him stop dead in his tracks while you point at his face. “Don’t you even start with that! Don’t give me the innocent, ‘I did absolutely nothing!’ Bullshit, because you did. You know exactly what you did!” Suddenly, it feels like the stresses from the past weeks you’ve been through are boiling up and spitting out.
Sukuna takes a few steps back while shoving his head into his sweat pockets. “Sure, tell me then? What did I do?” He glares at you, passing you an annoyed eye roll. “What did I do to you that was possibly so fuckin’ bad?”
You scoff at this, rolling your eyes as you turn your head away from him. “Oh please, I know you’re not stupid, Sukuna. Why don’t you piece together the puzzle for me?” You wrinkle your nose, pinching the bridge of it.
“What? You’re going to be like every other girl and throw the ‘I was using you,’ excuse at me? God, that shit is so fuckin’ annoying.” He rolls his eyes, waving you off. “You’re acting like you’re so innocent and perfect, too pretty and sweet to ever hurt anyone.” 
You blink a disbelief, “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” 
Sukuna laughs at you, “Oh, as if you don’t know.” He pulls his hands out his pockets, sitting on the ledge of the couch. “You’re worse than me.” He looks away from you, licking his teeth, “I’ve seen the way you hang off Yuuji. Toying and touching his body. Then, follow me around with hearts in your eyes.” 
You scowl at him, “Are you kidding me?!” You slap your hands over your eyes, “I already told you me and Yuuji are just friends. How many times do I need to drill that into your head?!” 
Sukuna scoffs at that, “Right, and you’re telling me Yuuji knows that? That he’s just letting you do these things to him. Letting you get close and show him love without anything else behind it?” 
You can see where he's coming from, but you’re too pissed to care. You’re not looking at him, “Oh my god, what is this even about? I’ve already told you, no, I’m just his friend. I care about Yuuji, and I don’t want to do anything with him.” You explain, a bit desperately. “He is more than aware of that.” Yuuji knows I like you. 
“Right, you’re just so helpful. Never hurting anyone by saying or doing anything that could hurt them.” Sukuna rubs his face exasperated, “I swear, you’re just like everyone else–”
This makes you follow him into the living room, “I can’t believe you’re grouping me with other girls right now, I can’t believe you’re treating me like I’m some other girl you can just–” 
“Throw out?” He cuts you off, walking into the living room. Your expression falls at this, your shoulders tensing, while pain dancing between your eyes. Sukuna feeds off this. “Yeah, believe it or not, doll, you’re not that special, a week spent with me isn’t going to give you any sort of special treatment.” He laughs, pointing at the kitchen, “If you want, I can give you a cookie if that’ll make you feel better.”
You feel your eyebrows furrow, your bottom lip quivering ever so slightly. “Why is it wrong with you? Why are you acting like this? It feels like you’re trying to hurt me right now.” You gesture at him, “I swear, you’re acting like you don’t know me.” 
“Because, I don’t. You don’t know me, I don’t know you, this is what we agreed on.” Sukuna throws his hands in the air annoyedly. 
“Stop saying that!” You can feel your eyes glaze over a bit, which makes you turn your back to him and move to the dining room table. “That whole deal–is fucking bullshit, stop bringing it up. It isn’t helping you right now.” 
You can hear Sukuna sigh, rolling his eyes as he says, “Right, completely forgot. How could I forget the amount of times you threw it in my face during the week. Shit, completely my fault.” 
You furrow your eyebrows at him, your jaw dropping a bit, “Are you mad at me?” You ask in shock, “Oh my god, wait, do you think you’re the victim here? Do you really think that I’m the bad guy, and you’re somehow–”
“You’re not the good guy.” Sukuna barks back, “Fuck. Why do you think you’re the good person here? You’re just like me–” 
“What are we talking about?!” You yell, “I have no idea why you’re mad at me–just tell me what’s wrong, or what I did wrong.” You sigh, leaning your head back slightly with exhaustion, “You can’t throw an argument in my face, when I don’t even know what you’re talking about.” 
“That makes it worse.” He tells you, a bit more calmly than before, “You have your reason why you’re angry with me, and I have mine.” 
“But, you can’t be mad at me over something I’ve never done!” You’re raising your voice again, and you will scold yourself later, but right now your emotions are all over the place. “Just tell me why you’re mad at me.” 
Sukuna bites his cheek, looking away with an annoyed expression, “Oh please, I know you’re not stupid, doll, why don’t you piece the puzzle together for me.” Instantly, your words from Thursday bounce in his head, and his chest tightens in pain. Now, this conversation hurts. 
It really hurts. 
“The stuff you said at the party.” You start, your hands shaking, this conversation is what you’ve been terrified to have. Now, you’re forced to have it with your emotions running wild, and no game plan on how to approach it. “You did stuff with me, knowing you were just going to dump me the next day.” 
Sukuna passes you an unreadable expression, “Don’t pretend you didn’t know that, you constantly reminded both of us.” He passes you a cocky smile, “Don't forget, you were the one who literally said you were a burner phone the day before. What else was that supposed to mean? I’m supposed to keep you around after I make the call?” 
“Are you seriously saying that since I was used, you didn’t need me anymore?” You’re in disbelief, but more importantly, in so much more pain. “You just want to toss me out?” 
It’s silent. 
It’s so silent, you can hear your heart beating in your heart. A part of you thinks you can hear Sukuna’s. 
Sukuna leans back on the arm rest of the couch, licking his canines as he looks away from you. “What else would burner phone mean?” He’s still not looking at you, but his expression isn’t filled with anger anymore, it looks more… pained. It looks like.. Sukuna is equally as hurt as you. “You said it yourself.” When he says your name to punctuate the sentence, it feels like a weapon stabbing into your chest. 
You feel your bottom lips wobble, “No, stop.” You whisper at him, “You knew, and I knew, that wasn’t going to happen. You weren’t just going to pretend nothing happened, the deal was a lie from the moment we made it. We knew this. You knew this.” You finally turn to look at him, finding composure to finally speak. “I know–and you can lie to my face, say you don’t care about me, but I know you do.” It’s scary to say that, knowing he may disagree. 
Sukuna stills at this, unsure of what to say, before forcing the words out, “Don’t flatter yourself.” He crosses his arms over his chest, “I swear, it’s like you actually like me.” 
You feel your eyes water again, “You’re so!–Ugh.” You twist your head away from him, whipping your eyes with the back of your hand. You absolutely hate that you can’t so much as yell without your eyes watering. 
Sukuna laughs, “Wait, don’t tell me…” He tilts his head to the side, trying to look at your face, “You want to be with me, you actually want to be with me?” He laughs again, his hand placed over his face, “That’s so funny. Didn’t I tell you to drop that stupid fuckin’ dream?” 
This makes you snap, yelling, “I don’t want to be with you! Why can’t you understand that!” Your chest is hurting, your heart pounding in your chest. You’re lying right now, you’re lying to Sukuna and yourself, why are you lying right now?
Still, the words keep pouring out, “I would never want to be with you–be with someone like you. You’re terrible at communicating, an asshole, full of himself, and a horrible pers–” You slap your hand over your mouth, stopping yourself. 
Sukuna clenches his jaw, pushing himself off the couch, “You think so?” He laughs to himself, “You don’t even know how fuckin’ horrible I can get, you want to hurt?” He stands up straight, collecting himself in a way. 
It feels like your chest is tearing in pain, a part of you wants to ask, ‘What do you mean?’ But, you don’t have the strength, more or less the willpower to know the answer. What else could Sukuna possibly say to hurt you even more than now? A part of you is thankful he doesn’t finish, it’s a question left in the air, and you’re happy for that. You’re glad he has some power to not say something that will completely tear you apart. 
Sukuna sighs, nodding his head to himself, “But, I’m glad we can agree. Who would want to be with someone like you?” He says with a smile, but it’s uneven and shaky, almost wobbly, “So, does this mean you can stop bitching at me? You can finally hop off my dick and leave me the fuck alone.” 
You’re breathing shakily, you instantly open your mouth to spit more venom at him, before you stop. Letting silence fill the area, it is heavy, and painful. You can even hear Sukuna’s heavy breathing. “You don’t mean that…” It’s not even a whisper, but you know Sukuna can hear it. 
Sukuna doesn’t respond.
You finally feel your tears slide down your cheeks, hot and wet, “What are we even arguing about? Why are we arguing?” You sound tired, your voice is a bit strained and small. “If you want me to leave you alone–not talk to you, why are you arguing with me right now?” You thickly swallow, “You don’t just argue with someone you don’t care for, Sukuna.” 
Sukuna still doesn’t look at you, just walks to the kitchen and grabs his keys. “Sure.” He starts walking to the garage. When it clicks what he’s doing, you feel your heart squeeze in pain. 
He’s leaving. 
More tears slide down your cheeks, “Don’t leave.” You whisper, watching as he walks towards the garage door. “Please, don’t leave me.” You cup your face, trying to hide your tears. “I want to talk, let me talk to you…”
That seems to spark Sukuna, his body freezing mid step. You can see him shaking, his eyes trained on the doorknob. His lips together, his eyes narrowing, he slowly shakes his head. “I can’t.” He whispers, opening the door, then mouthing, ‘I’m sorry.’
When the door closes, you crumble to the floor. Sobbing with a heave as you break down. You wish you could go back in time to the beginning of the previous week, you wish you could take back everything you said, you wish you never agreed to Sukuna’s deal, and you wish… more than everything in this world. 
That you didn’t like Sukuna. You wish you didn’t fall apart over a stupid conversation, because he just doesn’t care about you. You wish the argument between the two of you wasn’t as painful as it is. 
You wish you could just hug him, and cry into his arms while he consoles you. Whispering, apologizing, and explaining how he feels. You just want to know what he’s feeling, what he thinks… You don’t believe he doesn’t care. 
You refuse to. 
It hurts too much to believe him. 
Little do you know, Sukuna crumbles to his feet with you. 
・ 。゚☆:  *・ November 14th, 2023 ☽ .* :☆゚.
Wednesday
Class was… it was something. You were distant, bored, and mentally not there. Even Gojo noticed something was wrong with you, but you shrugged him off. Nobara passed him an empathetic look, before quickly following after you. 
Even at your club, most of your peers were asking things along the lines of, ‘Are you okay?’ or, ‘Did something happen?’ and, ‘Do you just want to go home?’ maybe, ‘You look rough, president.’ But, it was all in vain, you remained silent the entire time. Keeping your attention on paperwork you had been avoiding up until the point, not bothering to even pass a single word to anyone. You were incredibly quiet the entire day. Even now, on the way home, you’re still incredibly quiet.
You lean on Yuuji’s shoulder, holding his hand as a form of comfort. Sneaking small pieces of his food to snack on. You’re wearing sunglasses, which constantly fall down your nose with each bump from the bus. 
Yuuji is resting his head on yours, his eyes on your head. He came home to you in your room, softly sniffling, while your eyes were red and swollen. Yuuji quickly pieced what happened by his brother’s absence and your silent cries. It reminds him too much of himself years ago.
Even when the two of you enter the house, discarding your blocky sunglasses on the counter, your eyes are still puffy, and Sukuna is still gone. Yuuji is quick to make an ice pack, wrapping it with a paper towel and holding it to you. “It can help with swelling.” 
You pass him a pathetic smile, but it’s more to the floor than to Yuuji, not only is your vision impaired by your swollen eye, but your vision is literally impaired, and wearing glasses somewhere outside the private space of your room sounds very unappealing.
You take the ice pack and press it to your eyes, leaning on the island counter and sighing. You reach your hand out for Yuuji, which he gives you immediately. “Thanks, Yuuji, this means a lot.” You laugh a little bit, “I feel like your child right now.” 
Yuuji laughs, “Don’t worry, I’m used to dealing with crying people.” He looks to the side, scratching the back of his neck. “My ex-girlfriend was a real cryer when we were together. And, you know, there was this one time a girl was sobbing at my door for Sukuna.” 
You groan at that, letting your head fall for a moment, “Are you okay with this?” You ask softly, “I don’t know, I feel like it can be so exhausting, especially since it’s your brother.” Especially with what you’ve been through, is what you want to say. 
Yuuji tilts his head to the side, thinking for a moment, “Uh, no?” He shrugs, “Well, maybe I did when I was younger, but… now it’s a bit different.” He notices the way you tense, a small smile building on his lips, “I’m guessing he told you what happened?” 
You cringe a bit, pulling the ice pack down from your eyes. “I’m sorry, Yuuji, I really didn’t want to pry, but I just feel… terrible. You know? I’m sorry, this is probably worse for you.” You look away from him a bit ashamed. 
Yuuji laughs, shaking his head, “It’s fine, I don’t even want to hear an apology.” He bites the inside of his cheek, mumbling, ‘Sukuna owes you an apology…’ Before placing his hand on your shoulder, “But, I know why Sukuna is the way he is, and I’m just waiting until he’s comfortable to talk about it.” 
That gives you some small reassurance, you wrap your arms around him, hugging him tiger then you’ve hugged most people in your life. You whisper, “Thank you so much, Yuuji, you’re really an amazing person.” You close your eyes, bringing him closer, “I’m sure it was really hard on you, too.” 
Yuuji sighs, hugging you back, “Yeah, don’t worry.” Your name punctuates the sentence softly, and lovingly. His forehead resting on yours, “But, this is nice.” You giggle, nodding your head in agreement.
Only for the cute moment to be ruined by a knock, both you and Yuuji popping your head toward the direction. You blink a few times, slowly asking, “Did you invite someone?” You slowly pull away from his arms, pressing the ice pack against one of your arms. 
Yuuji shakes his head, “Sukuna?” 
You cringe at that name, praying inside your head it isn’t Sukuna at the door. “Who knows.” You turn away, tempted to hide in your room. You almost do, your feet naturally turning in the direction, getting ready to leave. 
Yuuji notices, “Here, wait, I’ll check the peephole for you. I’ll see who's there.” He smiles, skipping to the door, trying to distract you, “Who knows? Maybe, it's a solicitor.” 
You raise your eyebrows, switching the ice pack to a different eye. “You sound way too excited for a solicitor…” You’re even tempted to follow after him, but quickly decide that is a really bad idea. “What if what they’re selling you is complete garbage?” 
Yuuji shrugs, “Don’t tell Sukuna this, but I buy everything they offer.” He smiles to himself, hand on the door knob. “On his card, phone number, and email, of course.” He laughs a little bit, “I can always hear him complaining about weird magazines, or email chains he’s mysteriously signed up to.” 
You pass him a curious look, Yuuji just shrugs at this, “Hey, I can still be over what happened, but I like to think this is my revenge for all those years ago.” 
You laugh again, making your way to the fridge. “Good for you, Yuuji.” You open the freezer, trying to find a frozen bag of peas, or any other frozen bag of vegetables. It’s also a way to hide your face when Yuuji opens the door, in the case where it is Sukuna at the door. 
Despite the distance being short between you and the door, you can’t really hear the conversation he’s having, which automatically makes you assume it is a solicitor. Until you hear a very distinct, “Oh, that makes a lot of sense!” From Yuuji. 
Weird, you think. Naturally wanting to look at who Yuuji is talking to, but you keep your attention on yourself. It could be a solicitor, and you sincerely don’t have the money to even entertain that idea. 
You close the freezer door, tilting your head at Yuuji with one good eye. He turns his head to look at you, passing you a kind and comforting smile, “It’s for you!” He takes a few steps back, a gesture that makes you naturally move to the door to take his spot. 
For me? You mentally think. Who would be here for you? You haven’t invited anyone over, more or less spoken to anyone besides Yuuji the entire day. So, who would be here to see you? Maybe, Nobara with a surprise ‘cheer up!’ visit? You hope not…
But, when you finally reach the door, you feel your lips part in shock, blinking at the person in front of you. Their white hair flutters with a soft blow in the wind, you don’t know how to react, more or less feel, to the sight of their face. It isn’t jealousy, but it isn’t excitement either. Their face is blank, emotionless, a stark contrast to when you first met them. 
“Uraume?”
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Next Chapter: Ch. 6 - Forgiveness?
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Tag(s): Tag(s)!: @openup-yourmind, @sherlock-holmes-jr, @maskedpacific, @gasp-a-homo, @diogodxlot, @beahappyhoeee, @tojimeow, @sukunamylovexoxo, @yoontaedotin, @sukunaloverrr, @lanadelreylover4l, @raininginthemoonlight, @blackjanexx, @ethereally-lyann, @fritzzbitzz, @lanadelreylover4l, @chayunwoo, @madamteller
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A/N: Hi hi everyone!! So, as of now, this was the last chapter that I pre-wrote, (excluding chapter 8) which means now, unfortunately, you do have to wait until I finish next chapter for an update. But, don't you worry too much, chapter six will come out sometime this, or next week. (Chapter 7 is more iffy on time.)
But, thank you for all the support so far, it genuinely has been so nice to hear what you think about the story, and how you feel about the characters. I'll try to have the next chapter out asap!
Thank for you reading! 🩷🥹
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yelena-bellova · 9 months
Text
Heartfirst: A Ted Lasso Story - Chapter Twelve
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Chapter Twelve: Hold You Close
Plot: A night out with the Greyhounds, a short-lived stint as head coach and a massive data leak bring on a full week for Y/n.
Word Count: 5.7k
Warnings: language, alcohol, sexual undertones (nude leak), slut-shaming
A/N: What do you get when you write a football fic with very little knowledge of football? This.
To be honest, this chapter feels more like filler and felt very awkward to write. But even if it’s a tiny step, every chapter moves the story along a little bit. Very much a Keeley and Jamie chapter, so enjoy!
——————
Winning suited Richmond.
A four-game win streak had brightened the halls of Nelson Road Stadium. The whole city was in the best mood it had been since the start of the season. Total Football, though it had taken time, was leading them to victory week after week.
After their fourth straight win, the Greyhounds proclaimed a club night. After months of declining, Y/n finally accepted their invitation to join. Going clubbing was…more than a little out of her comfort zone, but the boys weren’t going to take no for an answer. And truthfully, she wanted to celebrate their good fortune just as much as they did.
Sat in the VIP section of a London nightclub, the Greyhounds shouted to one another over the thumping bass. Colin and Y/n were sat in a corner, Colin entertaining her with a story from training the other day. When their glasses were emptied, they headed to the bar to get a refill.
“Okay, fine,” Y/n gestured to Colin’s bottle, “Gimme.”
Colin handed over his vodka, Y/n poured a bit into her empty glass and threw it back.
She grimaced, letting out a groan.
“Oh, it’s not that bad,” Colin replied.
“No, it is,” Y/n screwed her eyes shut, “It really is.”
Y/n wasn’t buzzed, but she was certainly more relaxed than usual. It felt good to be out, to be amongst people she liked, to laugh. It made all the lingering anxiety in her head fall hush.
Colin was laughing at her alcohol tolerance just as a man who didn’t belong to their party came up to the bar. He stood beside Y/n and flashed an easy smile.
“You weren’t saving this space, were you?”
“No,” Y/n’s voice was strained, coughing from the vodka, “Go for it.”
The man flagged down the bartender, “Something strong, please. But,” he pointed to Y/n, “Not whatever she had.”
Feeling like she could see properly again, Y/n chuckled. “Smart choice.”
“I’m Paul,” the now-named stranger held out his hand.
She shook it, “Y/n.”
Colin stayed silent beside Y/n, smiling and sipping his drink.
“Are you here with friends?” Paul asked in a thick Irish accent.
“Uh, sort of,” Y/n glanced back the corner of the room the Greyhounds occupied, “After-hours work thing.”
“Ah,” Paul nodded and thankfully didn’t follow her gaze, “Don’t know how many people want to spend a Saturday night with their co-workers.”
Y/n shrugged, trying to give as little information as possible. “Bit of an unconventional workplace.”
“Okay, well, now you’ve got to tell me what you do,” Paul said plainly.
“Ha,” Y/n smiled, “If I do, I’ll never get rid of you. Trust me.”
“No, no,” Paul held up both hands, “You tell me, I get my drink, and then I leave with a useless fact about a stranger whose name I’ve already forgotten.”
Y/n laughed again. This particular club didn’t strike her as somewhere you’d meet a genuinely nice guy. It was a surprise, and if nothing else, it was pleasant conversation.
“You’re…” Paul decided to start guessing, “Personal assistant to some 5-star chef.”
“If that were true, I wouldn’t have so many takeaway menus in my kitchen drawers,” Y/n replied, visions of Christmas dinner two months before flashing through her head.
“Ah,” Paul winced, strike one, “You’re…a dancer and you’re out with your company.”
Y/n scoffed, “I’m flattered, but no.”
Paul pressed a finger to his lips, twisting fully to face Y/n. It was the most polite way of checking someone out she’d seen.
He pointed towards her, “You’re-“
“There you are,” Jamie exclaimed, sliding up to Y/n, “Babe, I was looking for ya.”
Y/n’s mouth hung open, ready to reply to Paul but struck speechless by the interruption.
“Told ya, waiter could’ve brought us refills,” Jamie slid an arm around Y/n’s shoulders and tugged her into his side. “Didn’t have to do it yourself,” he finally took his eyes off Y/n and turned to Paul, “Good night, eh, lad?”
With nothing more than two sentences, Jamie had sent a clear message to Paul that his presence was not required, needed or wanted in the slightest.
“Yeah,” Paul nodded in defeat, “Good night. Hope the same for you,” he gave Y/n a thin smile, “Cheers.”
Y/n awkwardly held up a hand, waving him goodbye, before turning to Jamie. “And what was that?”
“Me savin’ ya,” he answered as if it were obvious. His eyes followed Paul across the room till he was satisfied by the distance. “These places are lousy with creeps.”
“But he wasn’t,” Y/n argued, though it wasn’t really an argument. She hadn’t felt one way or the other about Paul. “He was just nice.”
“I can vouch,” Colin made his presence known again, “Saw the whole thing.”
Details mattered very little to Jamie. The truth of it was, he wasn’t even sure why he had stopped the conversation. The moment he’d glanced over at Colin and Y/n’s spot on the couch and seen it was empty, he went on high alert. Colin could fuck off wherever he wanted, but not knowing where Y/n was unsettled him.
And seeing some guy, creep or no creep, chatting Y/n up and making her laugh felt wrong. Very wrong. So wrong.
“‘Course he was nice,” Jamie replied, “The good ones are always nice at first. That’s how they get ya.”
Y/n watched Jamie mansplain men to her, something she thought was impossible to do. Neither of them really realized his arm was still around her, effectively proclaiming to the club that she was off-limits.
“Well, congratulations,” Y/n took the glass Colin handed her, annoyed yet unable to stop from smirking, “You protected me from harmless small talk with the first person I’ve spoken to outside of work since I started with you clowns.”
Jamie could sense the sarcasm, he didn’t particularly care. The threat had been neutralized. He shrugged, “You’re welcome.”
—————————
A few days later, Y/n was sat at her breakfast table. She watched the busy street below out her window. There was a peace to the hustle and bustle of Richmond that differed from the rest of London. Everyone had a destination, but no one was really in a hurry to get there. It was one of the things that she liked most about living in the middle of it all.
A ‘ding’ from her phone redirected her attention. A Google and Twitter alert. There was a good chance it was pap photos coming out from the club’s night out. A bit late, but still possible.
Y/n held her breath as she reached for her phone. There weren’t a lot of flattering angles to have captured them at by the end of the evening. She tapped the screen to see it was…Keeley…who was trending.
“What…” Y/n mumbled, dropping her fork and typing in her passcode to search further.
Not pap photos. Worse. So much worse.
“What…” she breathed.
There’d been a massive leak of private photos and videos, mostly from celebrities. Among them was Keeley. A racy video of the former model from a few years ago was spreading like wildfire across the digital landscape.
“Oh my gosh,” Y/n whispered as she scrolled various reactions and unfortunate screenshots. She threw her phone down when clips began to fill her feed. The whole country was watching it. Talking about it. Laughing at it.
Y/n scarfed down the rest of her eggs, grabbed her keys and hurried out the door.
—————————
Keeley nearly didn’t answer the door. When the insistent banging didn’t stop, she caved and peeled herself off her bedroom floor. She peeked out the window to see one of the only people she felt like speaking to at the moment.
“I just saw,” Y/n blurted out as soon as Keeley opened the door, “I’m so sorry.”
Keeley exhaled, putting her hands over her face, “I don’t know what happened. I don’t know how it happened. I don’t know what the fuck-“
“Hey, hey,” Y/n placed her hands on Keeley’s shoulders and guided her inside, “C’mon.”
“I can’t believe this is happening,” Keeley continued, barely registering that she was moving and that Y/n had shut the front door, “My family’s gonna see it. The team. Our clients!”
“I know,” Y/n replied, sitting them both down on the couch, “But the clients don’t matter right now.”
They did, terribly so, but Y/n wasn’t going to bring that up.
Raking her hands through her hair, Keeley stumbled for words. “I’m so embarrassed. I’m so fucking embarrassed.”
Y/n rubbed a hand over her boss’s arm, “I’m so sorry, Keeley.”
There was no way to fix any part of the awful situation, but Y/n, just by being there, made Keeley feel 1% better. It was better to hurt with someone than to do it alone. Jack had just left and the last thing Keeley wanted to be at the moment was by herself.
“You came all the way here because you saw?” Keeley asked, struck by the sentiment.
“Well,” Y/n shrugged, “Yeah.”
Since Amsterdam, Keeley had seen Y/n’s walls come down, or weaken at least. She hadn’t pushed too hard on the matter, she rather enjoyed the new Y/n. But this, this was entirely out of character.
Keeley threw her arms around her neck, grateful and in need of a hug.
A few months ago, Y/n would have shimmied out as soon as she could. But this wasn’t then, and she tightly wrapped her arms around Keeley, doing what little she could to comfort her.
“This is fucked up,” Y/n sighed.
“So fucked up,” Keeley whimpered, stuck somewhere between a sob and a laugh.
Y/n pulled back, still holding on, “We’re gonna get you through this. I promise.”
Keeley took a shaky breath, “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” Y/n smiled, “C’mon, KJPR. Dealing with shitty headlines is our superpower.”
Keeley managed a laugh before digging back into Y/n, the two of them locked in a heavyhearted embrace.
—————————
“No, Miss Jones has no comment on the data leak,” Y/n repeated into her phone, shutting down the fifth reporter of the morning, “Have a lovely day.”
Hanging up, she let her forehead hit her desk. It had been a full day since Keeley’s video hit the internet and she could only pray people lost interest and moved on soon. She had made Keeley promise not to answer any calls, instead forwarding the reporters to her. Most of them were men, but all of them were intrusive.
“A dick pic leaks on the internet,” she grumbled and dragged herself out of her chair, “And fuck all, but armies mobilize for a naked woman.”
Y/n grabbed her notebook and left her office, jogging down the staircase to go about her day as normally as she could.
“Hey, Y/n,” Ted called, exiting his office just as she entered the hallway. A vaguely familiar child was walking beside him.
“Hey,” Y/n half-smiled.
“Haven’t gotten a chance to introduce you,” Ted put his hands on the boy’s shoulders, “This is my son, Henry. Henry, this is Y/n.”
Henry smiled up at Y/n, “Nice to meet you.”
“Nice to meet you too,” Y/n realized she’d seen him in a picture on Ted’s desk, “I’ve heard a lot about you.”
“Hey, listen,” Ted pointed towards the stairs, “I gotta talk to Rebecca, won’t be more than a half hour or so. Would you mind watchin’ Henry?”
“Uh…” Y/n sputtered, “I mean, sure, yeah, but don’t you have training?”
“Yeah, yeah,” Ted quickly said, his mind was clearly somewhere else. He felt around his pockets and pulled out a small box. “Yeah, you know what? Y’all are gonna start training for me.”
While Henry’s face lit up, Y/n’s electrified with anxiety.
“Yeah,” Ted grinned, looking to his son, “There you go. You can go back home, tell all your friends you got to coach a football team. How ‘bout that?”
“Yeah,” Henry said with great enthusiasm.
“Uh, Ted,” Y/n waved a hand, “While Henry,” she smiled for his sake, “May be really good at coaching, I’m definitely not qualified.”
Ted waved a supportively dismissive hand back, “Ain’t nothin’ to it. Get ‘em started on warmups, I’ll be down before they really get goin’,” he handed Y/n the box, “Got this for Roy, but he ain’t gonna use it. You go on.”
With Henry looking up at her like she held the key to his happiness, Y/n didn’t have much of a choice.
“Alright,” she exhaled, feigning excitement, “Let’s go coach a football team.”
“Thanks,” Ted kneeled down to Henry, “Listen to what Y/n says, yeah?”
“Will do, Mr. Magoo,” Henry gave his dad a thumbs up.
Y/n’s eyes widened at the phrasing, there were two of them.
“Alright,” Y/n clapped her hands together as Ted left them on their own, “Let me go set this back in my office and we’ll head out, yeah?”
“Okay,” Henry nodded, following Y/n up the stairs, “So what do you do here?”
Y/n sighed, “Well, I help run the social media accounts. I help the boys with their interviews. Y’know how you see football or baseball players on commercials? I help those happen.”
“Wow,” Henry said as they got to Y/n’s office, “That sounds cool.”
Y/n slid her notebook onto her desk, and faced Henry, “Yeah, it kind of is.” Anywhere else, even she would admit her job was boring, but Richmond had changed that. “Let’s see what your dad gave me.”
Opening the tiny box revealed a plastic yellow whistle. Y/n chuckled, Roy definitely wouldn’t be using this.
“So why’d you come to England?” Henry continued to ask questions, “If you’re American.”
Omitting key details, Y/n slid the whistle around her neck. “I came over for school and loved it so much I just never left.”
“Do you ever miss America?” Henry stayed next to Y/n as they descended the stairs.
That was trickier to disguise. If Y/n was honest, she didn’t miss her home country. It was hard to miss the place all her worst memories had occurred. England had been a refuge before becoming her true home.
“Sometimes,” Y/n replied, guiding Henry down the hall, “I have a little sister who still lives there. I miss her all the time…” she smiled, “And Arby’s.”
Henry agreed just as they reached the doors that would take them outside.
“Alright,” Y/n pressed her hands to the door, “Now these guys are the best in the whole country, in my opinion, so we can’t go easy on them.”
“Got it,” Henry nodded.
“We’re gonna have to work them really hard,” Y/n added.
“I agree.”
Y/n narrowed her eyes, “You ready?”
Henry grinned, “Ready.”
Theatrically, Y/n threw the doors open and they marched down the tunnel.
The boys were stretching and conversing and had yet to notice their coaches were missing. Y/n and Henry headed over to the dugout, Y/n thanking her morning self for deciding on wearing sneakers.
“Do you have a favorite player?” She asked.
“Jamie Tartt,” Henry answered without hesitation, “The first time I visited, he signed my shirt.”
Y/n’s heart fluttered with warmth, “That was nice of him.”
“On my soccer team back home, I’m #9,” Henry continued, “Just like him.”
Y/n’s eyes scanned the group of Greyhounds, finding #9 laughing about something with Isaac. There were probably hundreds, thousands of kids who looked up to Jamie Tartt, but Henry’s admiration was something special.
“Well,” Y/n crossed her arms, “We’ll make sure Jamie has plenty to do.”
Clapping her hands to get the Greyhounds’ attention, Y/n and Henry stepped onto the pitch. “Alright, boys, here’s the deal. Coach has appointed me and Henry here,” she put her hands on Henry’s shoulders, “As your new coaches for the next thirty minutes.”
The team was understandably confused but amused once they saw Henry’s bright eyes. Training was to double as babysitting.
“Now, you’re dealing with one of America’s next top footballers,” Y/n jiggled Henry playfully, “And a woman whose life you all have made incredibly colorful, particularly last weekend…” she gave a thick grin. After their celebration at the club, many of the Greyhounds had needed to be poured into cabs. The task fell to the most sober of them, and Y/n had taken little joy in wrangling them into the backseats. “No one’s going easy on anyone today.”
The boys ‘oohed’ and laughed amongst themselves.
“Alright,” she shouted, “One lap,” Y/n gave a sharp blow on the whistle, “Let’s go!”
All credit to them, the team obeyed orders and set off around the edge of the pitch.
As he passed by, Jamie stopped to give Henry a fist bump.
“How ya been, lad?”
“Good,” Henry grinned, his spirits had lifted even higher the moment Jamie walked in his direction.
“Good,” Jamie stood to his full height to face Y/n, smirking, “Don’t get enough of this with Roy?”
With mere inches between their faces, Y/n blew the whistle smugly, “Fallin’ behind there, Tartt.”
Jamie set off with a smile and ran to catch up to his teammates. Y/n being on the pitch was a surprising, but welcome start to his day.
The boys were about halfway around the pitch when Y/n and Henry started forming their game plan.
“What should we have them do next?”
Henry thought a moment, “What about knee kicks? That’s my favorite exercise.”
“I like it,” Y/n walked across the grass to retrieve one of the balls, “But you better be ready to show them how it’s done.”
Henry’s entire face lit up, the glow radiating onto Y/n’s knowing she’d made it happen. She was going to make sure he went home with the best stories.
The Greyhounds came around the bend, well and warmed up.
“What next, Coach Y/n?” Dani asked enthusiastically.
“Now,” Y/n set the ball on the grass and kicked it to Henry, “You’re in the hands of Coach Lasso.”
Y/n stepped to the side to give Henry the spotlight. The boys all cheered him on as he came to join them, holding the ball under his arm.
“We’re gonna do a knee kick contest,” he said proudly, “We’ll see who can go the longest, and,” Henry scanned the group, “Jamie’ll go first.”
Jamie pressed his fingers to his puffed out chest, stepping forward, “I’m honored.”
Henry tossed him the ball, Jamie easily caught it. Y/n popped the whistle back in her mouth and it shrieked.
“Begin!”
Jamie bounced the ball from knee to knee, the team forming a ring around him to watch. They started cheering each time Jamie’s body made contact, Henry the loudest of them all. He kept it going about thirty seconds before losing it.
Y/n spared him a clap, purposefully holding back, “Not bad.”
Jamie frowned at her, the tips of his lips still curling up.
“Who’s next, Henry?” Y/n asked.
“Sam,” he answered.
Jamie launched the ball at his teammate, Sam caught it and they switched spots.
He lasted the same amount of time as Jamie, Isaac lasted twenty five seconds, Dani lasted forty, Colin lasted twenty eight.
“Alright,” Y/n clapped as Bumbercatch finished his turn, “I think it’s time you boys learned from a true professional.”
Henry stepped up, taking Y/n’s smile as his cue, and caught the ball from Bumbercatch. The boys chanted his name, surrounding him in gleeful anticipation.
Henry began to kick, feeding off the support of the Greyhounds. Y/n stepped back a few feet and pulled out her phone, snapping a few pictures for Ted.
Out of all the Premier League teams filled with cocky young men earning million dollar paychecks, Y/n couldn’t imagine there were many who would behave like the Greyhounds. They were jumping up and down, cheering and counting for Henry as he bounced the ball. It was all so genuine, and they didn’t even realize the extent of what they were doing. They were giving Henry memories he’d cherish forever.
Eventually, Henry kicked the ball for Sam to catch and the boys went wild. Jamie leaped into the air and started victoriously running with Henry, the rest of them following.
Y/n hit the whistle, “Well, I think we can all agree Henry’s the winner.”
The team agreed quite vocally.
“You haven’t gone yet,” Henry called.
“Oh,” Y/n shook her head, “I-“
“No, no, no,” Colin pointed to Y/n, “Boyo’s right. Everyone’s gotta give it a go.”
“That’s right,” Jamie clasped his hands together, “Fair’s fair, Coach.”
Y/n rolled her eyes, stepping onto the pitch to supportive hoots and hollers. Sam threw her the ball and she got into position, taking a deep breath. She’d never touched a football in her life.
Dropping the ball, she clumsily passed from one knee to the other. Henry and the Greyhounds cheered her on as they had each other. She lasted about ten seconds before she felt herself losing it and kicked it across the field. It didn’t make it to the goal, but even Y/n was impressed by how far it travelled.
The Greyhounds went wild, making a massive deal of her minimal accomplishment. A few of them punched her in the arm or high fived her.
“Alright,” Y/n laughed it off, “Henry, what’s next?”
“Corner kicks,” he said decisively, “Last one to grab the ball’s a rotten egg. Go!”
Henry took off before he’d finished speaking, the Greyhounds following. They spent the next ten minutes practicing corner kicks, once again, Henry and the boys insisting that Y/n took part. Pulling closer to the net than the pros, she was able to score a goal, resulting in wild cheers. Dani picked her up and spun her around and Jamie slung an arm around her neck the seconds she was back on the ground. When Henry scored, the Greyhounds lifted him up on their shoulders and ran him around the field.
When Ted gathered himself and headed back out to the pitch, he stopped short at the sight before him. His son, having the time of his life, surrounded by the team. And Y/n, facilitating it all, but enjoying every bit of it herself.
Ted smiled, deciding to watch as long as he could until someone spotted him.
—————————
Later in the day, Y/n drove to the KJPR offices. She hadn’t heard anything from Keeley and wanted to stay as close as she could to help in whatever way she could.
Y/n knocked at Keeley’s door and entered, “Hi.”
Keeley was sat at her desk, pouring over something on her laptop. Most likely, it had nothing to do with business. “Hi,” she mumbled.
“Looking at Twitter isn’t going to help anything,” Y/n sighed, entering the room.
Keeley didn’t look up from her screen, “It’s Facebook.”
Y/n scoffed, “That definitely won’t help anything.”
Keeley tore her eyes away, closing out the browser and turning to Y/n. “How bad’s it been?”
“Oh, Daily Mail were eager to talk,” Y/n fell into the chair opposite her boss, “Didn’t think that was the best avenue to go.”
Barely breathing a chuckle, Keeley ran her hands through her hair.
“I’m not letting anyone get close to you,” Y/n reassured, “And the good news is, the press’ll move on within a few days.”
Keeley glanced up with doubtful eyes.
Y/n regretted the words as soon as she’d said them, “Albeit, they’ll run with this all week. But still,” she reached over and held out her hand, “We’re gonna get through this.”
Keeley exhaled and took Y/n’s hand, squeezing like she was her lifeline.
A knock hit the door and they turned to see Barbara. Keeley did her best to appear as if all was well.
“Is now a good time, Ms. Jones?” Barbara asked, sparing Y/n a polite smile.
“Yes, of course,” Keeley answered perkily, “Yeah.”
Barbara came to stand beside Y/n’s chair, holding a single sheet of paper. “I’m sorry about what happened.”
Keeley looked like she was on the verge of tears, “Thank you, Barbara.”
“Um,” Barbara turned to Y/n, “Does someone have the press-“
Y/n held up a hand, “Got it covered.”
“Good,” she nodded, turning back to Keeley and handing her the sheet, “Jack asked me to give you this.”
“What is it?” Keeley asked.
“It’s a statement,” Barbara replied.
Keeley scanned the text before reading it aloud, “”Allow me to first offer my sincerest apologies,” her brows popped up, “”I deeply regret that video that some of you have seen online. I’m beyond embarrassed, and I never should have made this video in the first place.”
Y/n’s lips parted, even Barbara averted her gaze.
“‘I hope you can forgive me while I learn and grow,’” Keeley finished, looking up to Barbara confusedly.
“Jack thought you could post it across your socials,” Barbara said, “But maybe not Facebook, ‘cause that’s just for grandparents and racists now, isn’t it?”
In her despair, Keeley managed to give a gentle smile and Barbara didn’t miss it as her cue to excuse herself.
Y/n sat still at the desk, her mind flooding with rage. If she didn’t know better, she’d think that the “statement” had been written by a man. How could private property leak and somehow it could be turned around to be the victim’s fault? Worse, how could Jack be alright with it?
“Do you think,” Keeley stared at the letter, “I should put it out?”
In answering, Y/n wasn’t just giving business advice, she was wading into Jack and Keeley’s relationship, something that was entirely off limits. Clubbing with the boys was one thing, relationship talk was way too personal.
“I…” Y/n struggled, “I really don’t think it’s-“
“Please,” Keeley’s eyes snapped up to Y/n, “Don’t do that. I need your honest opinion,” she took a breath, “Do you think this is the right thing to do?”
Y/n had never seen Keeley be so firm, nor had anyone ever called her out on her hesitation. It was a snap back to the reality of the situation.
“Absolutely not,” she answered, speaking with total confidence, “This isn’t a statement, it’s shaming. You dare to do what most of these corporate fuckers do with their mistresses with someone you love, someones steals it from you, and it’s somehow your fault?” Y/n grimaced with rage, “You have nothing to apologize for. You’re the one who got screwed over, you’re the one who’s owed an apology. It is not the other way around.”
Y/n paused, trying to collect herself. “Keeley…please don’t put this out. For all women who have ever had something like this happen, just…please.”
Keeley nodded, as if it only confirmed what she was already thinking.
“Look, you and Jack are…you and Jack and you need to talk about this, but,” Y/n sighed, taking Keeley’s hand once more, “Don’t do it.”
The two of them sat in silence, Keeley eventually folding up the paper and rising from her seat.
“Is Rebecca in today?”
“Yeah,” Y/n answered, “Probably expecting you.”
Keeley nodded as she grabbed her purse, “Tea?”
Y/n frowned as she gathered her purse, “I can’t. Ted’s got a presser.”
The women exited the office together, riding the elevator down without a single word spoken. When they reached the parking lot, they went their separate ways.
“Keeley,” Y/n called once she’d reached her car, “Do I need to…talk to Roy or anything? Make sure he doesn’t speak to the press?”
“No,” Keeley paused her keys in their slot. It was an uncomfortable topic, but PR didn’t care about comfort. “Not, uh…no, not Roy.”
Y/n waited to see if there was more to the answer. At least she was spared a deeply awkward conversation with Roy. The extent of their relationship was a mutual love of yelling at Jamie. She just prayed whichever ex of Keeley’s the video was meant for kept their mouth shut.
“Okay,” she decided not to push, “Hey,” she drew Keeley’s attention one last time, trying to keep her smile, “We’ve got this.”
Keeley gave a watery one back. If she didn’t have Jack’s support, she knew she had someone’s. “Yeah.”
—————————
It wasn’t often that there was so much work it warranted coming in on a Saturday. But a resort chain wanted Dani to do an endorsement for them and the only time their PR department could speak was the weekend. Plus, damage control for Keeley had taken up the lions share of Y/n’s week.
She was sat at her desk, returning an email and waiting for the phone to ring. It was kind of nice having the place to herself, but strange for Nelson Road to be completely silent. Usually from her office, Y/n could hear the sound of the boys conversing loudly down the stairs or Ted’s whistle on the pitch.
Her cell dinged, louder because of the quiet. Y/n picked it up to see it was a text from Jamie.
What you up to?
Y/n snapped a quick picture of her desk and fired it off.
Waiting for the call proved to be tedious as the man she was supposed to speak to was late. She began to scroll social media, her phone having alerted her to the fact that Ted was trending. She found that he and Beard had taken Henry to a West Ham match. A photo of the three of them was flooding the football community.
Where she might have resented Ted months ago, or anguished over the clean up she’d have to do, Y/n couldn’t help but laugh. There was a story to be told and she was sure she’d hear it on Monday. It also didn’t escape her that Beard had made a point of coming in full AFC Richmond attire.
“Damn right,” she said to herself.
Knock knock.
“Fucking hell,” Y/n exclaimed, her chair rolling back a few inches.
Jamie grinned, “Sorry.”
“No, no,” Y/n held her hand to her chest, “My heart needed to be reset.”
“What’re you doin’ here?” Jamie asked, shoving into the office.
“Dani’s got a deal with a resort,” she answered, rolling back to her desk, “This was the only day they could talk.”
Jamie nodded, wandering around the room. For all the time they spent together, he never had much of a reason to be in Y/n’s office.
Y/n got a good look at Jamie’s outfit, “And…what are we wearing?”
Jamie turned on his heel, looking down at himself. He saw nothing controversial about the vest, hoodie and joggers combo. “Fashion,” he answered, gesturing down his body.
“Right,” Y/n replied as she checked her inbox. She wasn’t sure she’d ever get used to his particular taste in clothing. “Where’ve you been today?”
“Eh, stopped by Keeley’s,” he answered, coming to sit down across the desk, “See how she was doin’.”
“Oh,” Y/n replied, glancing back at her computer before two loose pieces in her mind connected and stilled her. Why did Jamie have any reason to check in on Keeley if not…?
“How, uh,” Y/n stuttered, “How’s she doing?” She hadn’t spoken to Keeley yet, unsure as to how she’d handled the conversation with Jack.
Jamie shrugged, “She’s alright. I, eh…” he scratched the back of his neck, “Yeah, she’s okay.”
Y/n looked up and smiled, suddenly feeling like she was intruding on something deeply personal. “Good.”
By now, Jamie was a pro at reading her expressions. If not the intricacies, the general vibe. He pointed a finger, “What’s that face?”
“What face?” Y/n asked.
“That face,” Jamie moved a little closer in his chair, “Everything’s fine but it’s not, you make that face.”
Y/n attempted to shrug it off, wanting to shrug out of the entire situation. “Jamie, I’m fine. I’m glad Keeley’s okay, glad you went to check on her.”
Jamie watched carefully, trying to decode the layers of what she was saying and, more importantly, not saying. He retracted his finger into his fist when he guessed.
“Oh.”
Y/n’s eyes darted up from her laptop screen and back down.
“How’d you not know that?”
“Know what?”
A single laugh and Jamie smiled, “You’re a lot of things, but you ain’t dumb.”
Y/n grimaced, wishing she could disappear into thin air. Moments like these made her miss her boundaries. Isolated as they kept her, they had merit.
“I didn’t know you two…” she awkwardly pursed her lips and stared down at her keyboard.
“All that research,” Jamie smiled at her awkwardness, “Didn’t look into that bit?”
“It’s not my job to know who’s sleeping with who,” Y/n replied quickly, hating how she’d phrased that.
Jamie hummed, “Kinda is.”
Public relations did involve handling all types of headlines. Personal and otherwise.
“Well, you didn’t tell me either,” Y/n retorted.
“I thought you knew,” Jamie enunciated with a laugh.
Y/n couldn’t place what changed, but knowing that her boss and the person who was effectively her closest friend had dated made her feel…uneasy. Knowing such an intimate video had been made for someone she knew, she felt like she’d seen some side of Keeley and Jamie not meant for her to ever know about.
“Right,” Y/n spread her hands over her desk, “Are there any more relationships, past, present or potential, in this club that I need to know about?”
Jamie thought a moment, deciding to exclude any and all locker room talk he’d been present for regarding Y/n. It had started the second she’d walked through the door, dying down and picking back up every once in a while.
“You’re safe,” Jamie replied, finding her discomfort cute.
Any further conversation was blissfully halted as Y/n’s desk phone rang. Finally. She moved to pick it up but was met with Jamie’s hand fending her off.
“Jamie, what-“
Jamie shushed her, nudging her hand away. He lifted the phone off its base and flopped back into his chair.
“Ms. Y/l/n’s office,” he greeted, his Mancunian accent disappearing to turn posh and nasally, “How may I help you?”
Y/n covered her mouth to silence her snort. She waved for the phone with her free hand.
“And she knows why you’re calling?” Jamie continued, sliding away from Y/n’s grasp. “Hold, please.”
He covered the microphone with his palm and smiled. Y/n’s annoyance was a poor mask over her joy.
“It’s for you,” he whispered.
Y/n shook her head and yanked the phone out of his grip. “Hey, Oscar,” she greeted, “Glad we could finally touch base.”
Jamie fell back in his seat, content to wait and watch her take the call. He was happy to stay and bother her as long as he could.
And Y/n would let him, without hesitation.
———————
Heartfirst Taglist: @lalla-04p @optimisticsandwichgladiator @makingmunson94 @taytaylala12 @storysimp @sokkigarden @lightninginab0ttle @poohkie90 @alipap3 @verra-nerevarine @shineforever19 @spaceagechimera @burnafter-reading @qardasngan @cyberpvnk-enthusiast @sogoodtoheritsvicious @buckybarnex @angelsunflxwer @blueanfield @thewildestwonderland @sablecities @oxxolovemelikeyoudooxxo @strawberryacethingz @mentalistfan @tortilla-maria1 @katdahlali @for-fuck-sake-im-alive @glitterquadricorn @jamieolivia27 @imvibin69 @katlizada @lil-tracys @fanaticalfantasist @heyitz-julia @cactajuice @peachyy-tea @notalxx @rockchickrebel @anxiety-prime-max @mentalistfan @loveforaugust @jellycolors @actuallybarb @heletsmelovehim @lovinnscarletknight @imfalling-inlove @leslieiscrying @meg-ro @littlemisssunshine192 @beboldbebravethings @maydayfigment @spencerreidsbookclub @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @lemoonandlestars @im-a-weirdo-for-life @mindless-rock (tags cont. in comments ❤️)
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sbdskate · 3 months
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Laws Of Attraction (Part 9) - DR x lawyer!fem!reader
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Summary: McLaren is in breach of contract, dr3 hires a lawyer to deal with the aftermath. Tropes ensue. Slow burn. Enemies(kind of) -> Friends/colleagues -> Lovers
Pairing: lawyer!fem!reader x Daniel Ricciardo
Warnings : fluff and cheese, language, slight angst, alcohol consumption
Word Count: 3,866
A/N: One day I may be one of those writers who is well organized and has a preplanned schedule for posting, but unfortunately (and as my first fic), today is not that day. Thank you for your patience during this writing drought. Another chapter will be on the way after this, hopefully in a couple of weeks after another round of edits. Shout out to @cutelittlefakejourneys for your help. As always, thank you for reading and don't be a ghost reader!
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Epilogue 1
Daniel Ricciardo had been in your room last night. After a long race day filled with anxiety, media, McLaren, and subsequently relief and pride, he had stolen a bottle of champagne from McLaren’s afterparty, and your heart. He had hesitantly conditioned the gift on being consumed after the signing and delicately suggested you share the bottle, evidently afraid he would tear the fragile string that connected the two of you since the beginning. But you didn’t want to wait, so you had invited him in.
“So that’s how you open a bottle without spilling half of it?”
“What can I say, I’m a woman of many talents. Would you feel more comfortable if I gave you one of my heels to drink out of?” He laughed.
“Nah, not dirty or sweaty enough.”
He looked around to see what you had made of your private space. In contrast to the crisp outward appearance you presented as you strutted through the paddock in your tailored suits, your hotel room was a mess. Laptop open, papers spread out over every surface. Your petite figure was dwarfed by the oversized, plush hotel robe. Behind closed doors he realized you were quite ordinary. Not that you were unremarkable, but in the sense that you were perfectly imperfect.  
“What are we toasting to?”
“To finish lines.”
You started out at least trying to be prim and proper, using the hotel’s water glasses as vessels. But at a certain point decorum went out the window and you simply passed the bottle between you sitting cross legged on the floor. Even though it was late, the hours passed like sand through an hourglass.  
“Biggest celebrity crush growing up?”
“Leonardo DiCaprio. Easy. Man has been attractive literally at all stages of my life, from the time I was six watching ‘Growing Pains’ to now. Dude aged like fine wine. Unfortunately though I’ve aged out of his dating pool.”
He observed your lips wrap around the mouth of the bottle, how small your hand looked holding it, and his imagination ventured to unclean places.
“You?”
“Josh Allen,” he said without skipping a beat.
“You were five when Josh Allen was born. I know he’s your boyfriend but that doesn’t count.”
“Fine, fine, fine. I might have had a poster of Kylie Minogue in my bedroom when I was like, twelve.”
The two of you sat side by side at the foot of the bed, your hands inched closer towards one another as the night dwelled on.
“If you could do anything in the world, if money didn’t matter, what would you do?”
“Eh. I think I’d still be a lawyer.” He snorted.
“That’s the biggest fucking lie I’ve ever heard.”
“What? Someone’s gotta do it.”
“Come on. Do you actually love this? You’ve been away from your life in the States for months. And for what?”
“Well, I got to travel the world, meet cool celebrities… I got to know you. That must count for something, right?”
You tried to deliver the earnest statement as casually as possible, hoping he wouldn’t read too much into it. But the heft of your words hung in the air and blended with the little popped champagne bubbles that had evaporated. After months of Daniel tormenting you with flirty comments, it was his turn to try to ignore your flattery.
“Really. Money’s no object. Any job in the world. Go.”
“Ok ok fine. I suppose - Oh I don’t know… Maybe I’d be a food critic. I love to eat, I like to complain, and I like writing, so I feel like that’s the perfect marriage of all those things. Or… maybe I’d just drop off the grid completely. I’ve always dreamed about running off to the rolling hills of Italy and living off the land, maybe I’d open a flower shop or something. Really just live out my Under the Tuscan Sun fantasy. But it’s silly. I’ve worked so hard to get to where I am, I could never imagine throwing it all away.”
“It’s not silly.”
Your sideways glance met his deep pools of dark ember, filled with sincerity. You took a swig of champagne and passed the bottle back to him, wishing to wash away the palpable chemistry that swirled around you.
“What about you?”
“I guess I’d still be doing this.” You frowned, sensing his timidness.
“That’s not fair, you made me pick something.”
“Come on, it’s not like I have any transferable skills. I don’t know what else I could do.”
“You literally have two side hustles already. Wine maker and fashion mogul don’t do it for you?”
You thought you could crack a smile out of him, but instead the corners of his mouth downturned slightly.
“It’s not the same. We already decided the second time we met I could never have a desk job. I’m an adrenaline junkie, I’ve always needed to be in a car. Plus my parents worked hard to get me here, to get those opportunities for me, and seeing them happy makes me happy. I don’t know what else there is.”
“Your mother has a small heart attack every time you race.” You tried to placate his uncertainty, but the light conversation had turned heavy and there was no undoing it.
“Oh, that’s neither here nor there,” he brushed off.
“What about all the cameras constantly in your face? Don’t you miss being anonymous?”
This seemed to make him pause.
“I do… but at the same time, part of the fun was getting to make a name for myself. I’m not sure I fully knew what I was getting myself into, but I knew that fame came with the territory if I was actually good at what I was doing. Do I miss being able to walk down the street or go to a restaurant without being bombarded? Yeah for sure. But even when I had that, I don’t think I enjoyed it because I was always trying to get to the next step.” He paused, the furrow in his brow coming undone. “Do I love it right now in this very moment? No. I need a fucking break. I think you corporate people call it ‘burnout’ or whatever. But I’ve loved it up until now, and I know I’ll love it again eventually. I really can’t imagine doing anything else.”
The space between your fingers had vanished. As though your extremities had a mind of their own, you both looked down to study how they folded over one another. There was no recoiling. Your hand, that apparently had its own free will, sent signals to you to look up again. It was ironic that you had partially declined his invitation to the McLaren afterparty because you were afraid of winding up in a situation that vaguely resembled something exactly like this. Tomorrow was so close yet so far, and your wherewithal to resist the magnetic pull between the two of you was at an all time low. Over the last week leading up to the final race, flashbacks of the kiss in Brazil replayed on a loop in your mind. If you blinked you would’ve missed it when it had happened in real time. But the memory teased you and champagne was buzzing through your veins, clouding your judgment. You wanted to explore. Like a moth to a flame, you began leaning in, your eyes fluttering as his lips went in and out of focus.
Instead of being met with Daniel’s embrace, you toppled over as he got to his feet.
“Champagne’s gone, guess that’s my cue for bed.”
You propped yourself on your elbow as you looked up at him incredulously. How much champagne had you had, that you had so badly misread the situation? You averted your gaze in embarrassment.
“Yes, I suppose you’re right.”
His extended hand came into view. You slowly looked up again, his warm and inviting eyes conveying more than words ever could. You cautiously accepted his help as he got you to your feet, his strong hold steadying you.
“Do you need any help in the morning?” Yeah, just avoid Daniel until it’s over so you don’t lose your job. That would probably be a good start.
“No, I’m good, thanks though. Do you need any help?”He laughed, mostly out of astonishment that you could possibly ask such a question when you had already done so, so much.
“Yeah, if you could just sign for me too that would be great.” You rolled your eyes and shoved his arm. “Get some rest, yeah?”
And then he was gone. But how could you possibly just get some rest? You tossed and turned, never quite falling into a deep slumber. The scene of two friends on the floor sharing champagne and secrets played over and over. Friends? Colleagues? Business partners? Something else?
It festered as you got ready, before even the sun was up. The tried and true pink suit felt like it might burst at the seams, unable to contain the palpitations in your chest - a concoction of anticipation, nerves, anxiety, and excitement.
-
It was strange, having such a momentous deal take place outside the confines of a grandiose conference room with a dramatic, long, mahogany table overlooking some city skyline and perhaps a beautiful, shiny body of water. It was a status symbol of Big Law, the firm’s ability to peacock to clients how successful they were. The bigger the room and better the view, the more deserving they were of that outrageously high retainer fee they charged.
Instead, you walked into what was left of Red Bull hospitality after the big, final race weekend. Of course it was sleek and modern in its own right, but it gave an air of approachability that was lacking at the firm’s office. Nonetheless, you tried to import formality back into the space. You had printed and made matching binders of copies of the agreement for everyone present, appropriately tabbed and color coordinated. You brought blue, black, and red pens, highlighters, sharpened No. 2 pencils, and legal pads with the firm’s name emboldened at the top. You had gotten to Red Bull early to set up the space yourself, so that all materials were spaced out accordingly for each chair at the table. You took a step back to admire your handy work. Yes, this would do just fine.
Your phone went off.
DR: Where are you? We’re going to be late.
Y/N: I’m already here.
DR: 🙁
DR: You didn’t wait for me?
DR: It’s going to be weird walking there without you.
Y/N: I figured you wouldn’t want to be over an hour early and you could use the extra sleep. I��m sure you’ll manage.  
-
It was weird for Daniel walking to the paddock without you. The whole morning had been weird. It had been too quiet. There was no offkey musical number through his bathroom wall. He missed the sprightly knock at his door that came about ten minutes too early. He missed guessing which of your faces he’d get when you realized he wasn’t ready. He was amazed at how quickly he had gotten used to you. Had they really only been at this hotel for four days? Five?
His memory taunted him as he walked to Red Bull. He recalled himself holding his breath in anticipation as you closed in on him last night. He felt his heartbeat all the way up to his throat, his pulse points throbbed. It was an out of body experience, watching in slow motion as he pulled himself away from you. He finally learned it was for the best, even though the dejected look on your face pained him.
When he got there, he was disappointed to discover he was the last to arrive, wishing he had more moments alone with you. Christian, Joe, and in-house Red Bull lawyer bros sat around you, centering you as a vibrant glow in a sea of dull blues and grays. He was relieved to discover that you had reserved the seat next to you. He felt his face involuntarily break into grin as he noticed you notice him come into frame.
Christian, who was sitting across from you with his back to the door, saw the slightest twitch of your facial muscles. He whipped around, before a smile was fully formed, knowing exactly what it meant.
“The man of the hour! So nice of you to finally join us.” Everyone stood up for another round of hand shakes and self-congratulatory pats on the back. He could hardly maintain eye contact, his gaze constantly darting back to you. You rose to your feet, but remained in place, patiently waiting your turn for him.
He finally stood in front of his reserved chair, directly facing you. He wasn’t sure what to do – he knew you so well, a handshake hardly seemed appropriate. But you were in front of professionals so a hug wouldn’t do. He knew what he wanted to do, and that certainly wasn’t an option. Fortunately you made the decision for him, instinctively sticking your hand out. He would’ve been a little sad about it, but for the knowing twinkle in your eye. Your palms firmly met, and he appreciated how soft and delicate yours were. It was like you were holding hands.
“Eh-hem.”
You cleared your throat, eyes suddenly piercing. It wasn’t until he felt you try to pry your hand away that he realized he had been shaking it about six seconds too long. He finally relinquished his grip and you both sat down.
“Sorry, I spaced out,” he whispered to you. You only gave him a twitch of a smile and a curt nod in return before swiveling your chair to face the other side of the table.
“Now then. Let’s get started, shall we?”
-
Daniel almost felt silly for pushing this whole ordeal back an extra day. Almost. He could imagine you marching out of there muttering this could have been an email under your breath. The contract was, for all intents and purposes, finished and truly just needed to be signed. It only took twenty minutes to do a walk through of the terms, which of course no one objected to after the countless back-and-forth’s of redlines, late night phone calls, and negotiations.  And then, with a swift flick of his wrist, it was set in stone.
He stared at the wet blue ink on the page. He didn’t realize he was smiling until his cheeks started to hurt.
“I guess we’re engaged now. This feels familiar.” When he finally looked up Christian was beaming back at him like a proud dad.
“Welcome back, Daniel. Welcome home.”
-
“You do realize that could’ve been an email?” He laughed as he waited behind for you to pack up your stuff. Joe in typical fashion had exchanged quick pleasantries after the signing and was gone in a flash, off to the next client. The other Red Bull representatives followed suit not long after.
“It could’ve, but where’s the fun in that?” He watched as you stuffed the last binder into your bag, fighting with the zipper. When you finished you looked up to find him staring intently at you, causing you to nearly drop your bag.
“Can I help you?”
He leaned against the table, crossing his arms over his chest. You stared at his tan forearms, noticing his veins bulge.
“That depends… do you like surprises?” You did your best to hide a gulp, your throat suddenly dry. He couldn’t possibly be insinuating what you thought…
But if he was, two could play at that game.
“Depends on the surprise,” you purred, leaning forward ever so slightly to show off the v of your necklace that led a trail to your hidden cleavage.  
He leaned forward to meet you part way, not breaking eye contact.
“I think you’ll like this one,” he whispered. You felt goosebumps raise on your skin, giddy in suspense. Your heart was about to burst through your chest. Was he really about to take you right here in this office?
Without warning he pushed himself from the table and walked quickly towards the door, leaving you bewildered in the middle of the room. He stopped in the doorway and looked back at you innocently.
“What are you waiting for? Follow me!”
He proceeded to skip down the hallway, forcing you to jog to try to keep up with him.
“Daniel! Wait up! What the hell?”    
He led you to the exit of Red Bull hospitality before he finally stopped.
“I may or may not have called in a favor.”
“Daniel, this isn’t funny. What –“
You stopped in your tracks as the doors opened. With your jaw on the floor, you let out a silent scream as Geraldine Estelle Halliwell Horner, aka Geri, aka Ginger Spice, aka one-fifth of the iconic girl group The Spice Girls, stood in front of you in the flesh. As a child of the 90’s, this moment felt biblical.
Apparently Christian was also there. “Oh Darling, I have someone I want to introduce you to.”
You were already barely functioning when she turned away from her husband and made direct eye contact with you. Then, as though it were a conversation about the weather, she very casually said “Oh hello. You must be y/n, I’ve heard so much about you. It’s very nice to meet you.”
Your hand gripped over your chest. Eyes wide, you looked to Daniel to confirm she was not a hologram, but he only gave you a wide grin, then back to Geri who was waiting patiently for you to act like a human which was unfortunately too big of an ask.
“I-you’re-ohmygodIcan’tbelievethisishappening-I-hi-I mean…. You know my name.” You dissolved into fits of nervous giggles. Daniel stood there very pleased with himself. He was a little insulted you weren’t this starstruck when you met him, but it was overshadowed by the immense satisfaction he felt that he initiated something that made you so happy.
Geri gave a sympathetic smile. Clearly this was not the first time a fan lost their shit at her mere presence. “I do. I hear you’ve been very busy the last few weeks.”
“What? Oh, right. Yeah I’ve spent a lot of time with Daniel and your husband.” you blabbed, quickly changing the topic. “Do you and the girls still hang out regularly? Spice World was my favorite movie growing up, and-and-and I memorized all of the choreography to Stop and Spice Up Your Life.” You continued talking a million miles a minute.
“Well that’s good to know in case we ever need a fill-in,” she joked trying to put you at ease. Your demeanor quickly sobered and you put a hand over your heart.
“Oh, Miss Halliwell. I could never replace Victoria on your next reunion tour, but if you absolutely insist I would be honored to step in to ensure the show goes on,” you swore in earnest. Geri slowly nodded, locking eyes with Daniel behind you doing her best to telecommunicate with him. What the fuck. He only shrugged as he continued beaming.
“Well, I’ll keep that in mind,” she said slowly and politely. Daniel finally interjected.
“Y/n, you have to pack and I’m sure Geri and Christian have their own flights to catch…”
“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to take up so much of your time,” you said, Daniel’s voice beginning to bring you back down to earth. You rummaged through your bag, before proudly presenting your hand to her. “Here’s my card in case you or any of the girls need any type of legal assistance, happy to go over any contracts for you or whatever else you may need.” Geri’s forced smile relaxed, appreciating your hustle and intellect.
“This is great, thank you. Girl power, right?” And just like that you were back on Saturn. You proudly held up a peace sign as though you were giving an oath.
“Girl Power. Forever,” you swore. Daniel gently put his hand on your lower back to try and herd you along, but you turned to look back as you walked. “And now that you have my number, let me know if you ever want to get your nails done together or get coffee or even a yoga class!” you called after her. Geri chuckled and waved.
“It was nice meeting you too,” she shouted back.
“Good seeing you too y/n – what am I, chopped liver?” You kept walking and waved him off.
“Oh right, sorry. Yeah yeah, nice seeing you too Christian. Pleasure doing business.”
You proceeded to gush about the encounter the entire way back to the hotel. Your hands flailed in the air as you excitedly repeated every little detail, even though Daniel had also been there to witness the whole thing. Your eyes were bright and wide, still processing the adrenaline.
“So did I do alright then?” he asked cheekily as you approached your rooms.
“Did you do alright?! That was one of the best moments of my life, I could kiss you!” 
The words slipped out before you had a chance to think, stopping both of you in your tracks. They hung heavy in the air, waiting for an answer. But for the tension that had dragged on, and built, and compounded on itself for months, the statement would never be interpreted as anything other than an innocent, facetious comment for dramatic effect. But Daniel looked at you intently hoping you meant it. He turned his body to align with yours as you remained frozen, and cautiously stepped forward to remove the space between you. Your mouth parted slightly, trying to find words to explain yourself but drew a blank. He leaned in ever so slightly, his hot breath beating on the side of your face and tickling your ear.
“So do it,” he whispered, just loud enough for you to hear him. You dared to lock eyes with him, searching for an answer. His hand finally did what it had wished to do for so long, gently pushing hair out of your face and finding a home at the nape of your neck. He left it there, but he didn’t have to use any force to bring you together as your heads naturally tilted and pulled inwards like magnets. It was dizzying having his face so close to yours, feeling his breath tickle your nose and your cheeks, stoking the flush that had your face burning.
It was only when your lips were so close that you inhaled each other’s oxygen that you suddenly remembered you were in a very public hallway. You were still in your suit, that felt like it was about suffocate you. To his disappointment, and yours, you fell into old patterns. You pried yourself out of his orbit, stumbling backwards.
“Would you look at the time? I, um, need to go pack. Long flight tomorrow,” you stammered, as you continued backwards towards your room. 
“y/n…”
“Congratulations again, I’m super happy for you.”
“Can we at least talk about this?” You fumbled with your keys pretending not to hear him, your focus on the floor.
“It was great working with you. You have a bright future back at Red Bull, I’m sure everything will work out. Have a safe trip back to Perth.”
And with that final, clinical, arms-length message, you left him in the hallway. 
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sailor-aviator · 6 months
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Don't Hang'em Til Noon: Chapter Nine
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Don't Hang'em Til Noon: Chapter Nine
Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader
Summary: Jake "Hangman" Seresin is a notorious leader within the Dagger posse of the old western territories of the United States. You, a recently orphaned socialite from the eastern seaboard, find yourself swept off to live with your older brother who has set down roots in said western territory. Determined to to make the best of your situation, what will you do when said outlaw sets his sights on you?
Warnings: Language, Angst, Smut, Arrest, Admittance of feelings. Think that's it.
Word Count: 7.01k
A/N: And we're back!! I decided to combine chapters nine and ten together, hence why the chapter is so long. As always, reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated!! 18+ ONLY!! Find me on AO3 under sailor_aviator! If You're feeling kind, please consider donating to my ko-fi!
Masterlist || DPU Masterlist || Jake "Hangman" Seresin Tag List
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It had been weeks since the moment on the train, and you were starting to wonder if maybe you should move back to Baltimore. You hadn’t said a word to Jake since you stomped on his foot, save for the occasional comment about farm chores, and he had certainly done his damndest to avoid even looking at you it seemed.
You found yourself lying awake at night, thoughts drifting towards those of mossy green eyes and gentle touches that made your heart sing and your skin burn with longing. What little sleep you were getting was cut short by nightmares of faceless threats that grabbed at you, tearing your clothes and leaving you gasping for breath as you shot up out of bed. It wasn’t until your eyes would skim over the small, ornate wooden box that your heartbeat would slow and your shoulders would relax. You would crawl slowly out from underneath the sheets, padding over to your dresser where the box sat and run your fingers gently over the ornately carved flowers. Your heart would clench in your chest, and you would try to fight off the tears that gathered in your eyes to no avail.
Stupid, stupid man, you’d think to yourself, scrubbing furiously at your eyes before grabbing the box and trudging back to bed, laying it by your side with a hand on top before drifting back off into a dreamless sleep.
“You look like hell,” Bunny muttered to you one day, polishing a glass as Birdie sat beside you. The teacher had been teaching Bunny how to read, and she had started giving the other girl small writing assignments that she would check over.
“Your penmanship is getting better!” Birdie chirped at Bunny, beaming brightly as she slid the paper back across the bar, casting you a sideways glance. “And she’s right. You look awful. Have you been getting any sleep?”
You grimaced, scratching anxiously at the wood of the bar.
“I have,” you sighed, chewing on your bottom lip. “But it hasn’t been much.”
“It wouldn’t have anything to do with a certain blond that’s been moping around my bar for the past three weeks, would it?” Penny asked, giving you a knowing look as she set a crate of beers down on the counter. You refused to meet her eyes, glancing up when a familiar brunette sat down on the stool next to you.
“Your brother is worried too, you know,” Nat told you, studying you closely. “He says you’ve hardly been eating and that it’s like watching a ghost walking around the house.”
“He’s exaggerating,” you scowled, rolling your eyes. Nat gave you an unimpressed look, and you looked around to see matching expressions from the other women. You sighed, burying your face into your arms atop the bar.
“Somehow, I don’t think he is,” Nat muttered.
“Are you even going to tell us what happened between the two of you?” Bunny asked, face a mask of indifference as always despite her tone of concern.
“Does it matter?” You mumbled, glancing up at her. Penny huffed, placing a hand on her hip as she leveled you with a look.
“It does when I’ve had a moody cowboy practically drink through all of my beer every night for the past three weeks,” she frowned, concern still evident in her eyes despite her disapproving tone. “Whatever happened between the two of you, I’m sure it can be fixed.”
You didn’t say anything, eyes focused on the grains of wood underneath your fingernails.
“I…” You trailed off. “I said such horrible things to him.”
“What did you say?” Birdie asked you, leaning forward and resting a hand on your arm in comfort. You felt tears well up in your eyes, and you sniffled slightly.
“I told him that he didn’t know me, that maybe I wanted to move back to Maryland and marry someone there.”
Silence. You glanced up to see the other four woman all glancing at one another. Penny sighed, looking back at you with a grimace.
“It’s not so bad,” she offered. “You could have said worse, I’m sure. It’s nothing you can’t apologize for.”
“You didn’t see his face,” you countered, sitting up straighter. “And I tried to apologize, but he wouldn’t listen.”
“Jake is stubborn, that’s for damn sure,” Nat muttered, shaking her head. “He always has been, ever since we were little. You know he refused to take a payment for fixing Mr. Benson’s roof last spring? And then when Jake went to buy that emerald necklace for whatever reason, Mr. Benson had to practically shove the necklace down his throat because he wouldn’t accept the money from Jake. Pretty sure Jake snuck some behind the counter when the old man wasn’t looking, anyway.”
“Did you say emerald necklace?” You asked her, head shooting up from where you had rested it back on your arms.
Natasha nodded. “Yeah, it was that really pretty one that sat in the window for forever! I wonder what he did with it? I haven’t seen Sarah with it at all, and she’s the one he buys jewelry for.”
“You mean,” you swallowed, “he didn’t steal it?”
“Jake’s not that kind of man, honey,” Penny smiled. “He sure likes to give off that impression though, doesn’t he? He’d rather you think the worst of him before he corrects you. Thinks it’s the same as humility, the fool.”
“I,” you breathed, feeling your face grow pale. “I told him I wouldn’t accept it because I thought he stole it or bought it with stolen money.”
“Wait, he tried to give it to you?” Birdie asked, eyes wide. “And you told him no?”
“Yes,” you groaned, hanging your head once again. “I’m such a fool.”
“I hardly doubt that it was your own doing,” Bunny muttered, storing the glass she had just finished polishing. “Sure, you’re just as much a fool as he is, but it’s his own damn fault for not telling you.”
“That’s right,” Natasha nodded, turning to face you fully. “You two just need to sit down and talk, tell each other exactly what you mean and what you feel. Christ, I thought your brother was going to chuck that damn pocket watch at Jake’s head when he came slinking into the firm to give it to Benji.”
You sat straight up as your heart stopped, tears gathering in your eyes.
“He did what?” You choked, eyes wide in horror, skin pale and clammy.
Natasha regarded you, seeming to hesitate before continuing. “He came into the firm just last week, trying to give Benji this old, silver pocket watch. Said he picked it up while with you in Baltimore, and that he wanted to return it to where it belonged. I’ve never seen your brother so mad, Scout. I thought he was going to pass out from how loud he was yelling. Told Jake to keep the damn watch and get his head out of his ass.”
You were vaguely aware of Birdie blushing at Nat’s coarse language beside you, but your mind was reeling from the brunette’s words. He had tried to give your father’s pocket watch back? You thought you were going to be sick as you stood, moving to leave the saloon.
“Are you okay, Scout?” Bunny called after you, worry in her voice that was mirrored by the look on Penny’s face.
“I just remembered I have chores that need tending to,” you murmured, moving more on auto-pilot than anything in that moment.
“Do you want me to walk you home?” Natasha offered, already moving to stand, but you waved her off.
“No, no,” you frowned. “I’ll manage on my own, thank you. I have some thinking to do.”
Nat didn’t seem too sure, but slowly sat back down on her stool as you walked briskly out of the saloon and onto the street. The wind whipped at your cheeks, the cold biting your skin and turning it red. You made your way home, mind numb as you replayed Natasha’s words over and over again in your head. He wanted to give the watch back? Was Penny wrong? Were you too late to make amends?
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Your heart beat quicker in your chest as your mind ran a mile a minute, hardly noticing the ranch hands that rode up from the far field as you moved mechanically towards the barn. The horses would need fresh hay, and you were running behind on your to-do list for the day. You made your way up to the loft, pushing a large bale of hay towards the ledge, watching as it fell to the ground floor with a large thud. Making your way back down the ladder, you didn’t notice the figure that hovered at the barn door, too absorbed in your own thoughts.
It wasn’t until you felt a pair of strong arms wrap around your waist from behind as you moved to lift the hay bale that you were snapped back to the present.
“God dammit, Scout,” Jake hissed, picking you up and setting you down behind him. “How many times do I have to tell you that this isn’t a job for you?”
You stared at him, saying nothing as he turned around to start sorting out the hay into the different stalls.
“I can do it,” you muttered, taking a step forward. Jake glanced over his shoulder at you with an unimpressed look before going back to what he was doing. You took a step towards him, then another, and then another, and then more until you were standing by the hay, kneeling down as you pushed his hands away.
“I can do it,” you snapped this time, scooping up as much of the hay as you could before moving to stand, stumbling slightly in the process. Jake started towards you, hand outstretched to help you, but you stepped away, glaring up at him. You wouldn’t cry in front of him, you couldn’t.
Jake frowned down at you, dropping his hand back to his side as he regarded you. You felt your bottom lip begin to tremble, and you turned away, trudging towards the nearest stall and dispersing the hay.
“Scout, stop” he sighed, and you ignored him, moving to continue your task. As you made to make your way over to the next stall, Jake grabbed your wrist, stopping you.
“Stop,” he repeated, eyes earnest, shifting to worry as they took you in. You ripped out of his grasp, immediately going on the defensive.
“What?” You growled at him, mustering up all of the false bravado that you could as you met his green eyes. The eyes that you missed so dearly. He seemed to hesitate before squaring his shoulders and rummaging through his pockets.
“I wanted to give you something before you left for Maryland,” he said. You saw a flash of silver as he pulled his hand out. “It seemed only fair that you should have this back.”
He held the pocket watch out to you, the small bird still swooping at the bottom of the ornate design.
“What?” You asked, eyes widening as you stared at the watch. You couldn’t stop the tears that flooded your eyes, and you let out a choked sob as all of your emotions came crashing down at once. Stumbling to the side, a hand stretched out to brace against the stall door, a wail tore from your throat. It was a sound that even surprised you in how raw and unfiltered it was. You gasped for air, but none seemed to come to you as you choked out sob after sob, hardly being able to tell when one ended and the next one started.
Jake’s eyes widened as you fell apart in front of him, watching you wearily as if you were a wild animal that would turn on him at any moment. He took a tentative step towards you, waiting for you to push him back, but was instead surprised when you grasped at him, falling into his arms and latching onto his shirt as if it were the one thing that could keep you grounded. Your wails and sobs still rocked your body, tears now staining the white cotton of Jake’s shirt as you pressed your face into his chest. His arms enveloped you, holding you gently but firmly as he swayed you from side to side. A hand rested on the back of your head, slowly stroking your hair as he pressed his face into your temple. This was what you wanted.
Your cries and tears slowed to a trickle, sobs replaced by hiccups as you regained control of your breathing, Jake gently cooing at you the entire time. Jake moved to pull away, but you clung to him tighter, glancing up at him with wet eyes.
“Please don’t let me go,” you begged him softly, and you saw a whirlwind of emotion in his gaze as he looked at you. He seemed unsure on how to respond at first, but with a set of his jaw, he nodded down at you slowly.
“I’ll be right here until you’re ready to go,” he said. “I’ll hold you until you don’t need me anymore.”
You shook your head, closing your eyes tightly as you pressed yourself firmly against him.
“I’ll always need you,” you whispered, another sob wracking your body. Jake chuckled bitterly.
“No, you won’t,” he muttered, ire in his tone. “You’ll go back to Baltimore, and you’ll find yourself a husband. Someone who can give you all the things you want. Someone who can make you happy.”
He pulled away with more success this time, just enough to hold up the watch.
“You’ll give this to someone who’s deserving of you,” he whispered, his own eyes shining now. “Someone who you love.”
You stared at him, so many emotions swirling within you. This beautiful, stupid man who had insulted you the first time you met him. This man who had inserted himself into your life with little regard to social etiquette. This man who had pulled a gun for you when you were vulnerable and scared. This man who had carved you not one, but two beautiful presents. This man that had threatened to kill for you simply because you had cried. This man that listened to you and respected your moral code enough to go out and get an honest job. This man that stood before you, ready to let you leave without a second thought because he thought it was what you wanted.
“I’m not going back to Baltimore,” you said finally, face grave as you spoke. Jake’s eyebrows shot up in shock.
“You’re not?” He asked you.
“Jake, it’s been three weeks since we returned,” you replied, frowning. “If I was so eager to go back, don’t you think I would have left by now?”
“I think there’s a lot of planning that goes into something like that,” he countered. You scowled at him, pulling away completely now and putting some distance between the two of you.
“Nat told me you tried to give the watch to Benji,” you accused, glaring at the offending silver pendant.
“Did she tell you that he wouldn’t take it?” He countered with a frown.
“She did,” you confirmed, clasping your hands in front of you. “Said that my brother practically threw it back in your face, he was so angry.”
“That temper appears to be a family trait,” he muttered, and you had to suppress a smile.
You were still mad at him, after all.
“I figured,” he continued, taking a step forward, “that he just wanted me to give it back to you. It’s a family heirloom, and he has his own. It’s an important thing to you, and it’s only fair that you should give it to the person you want to spend the rest of your life with.”
He held the watch out to you, and the two of you stared at each other for a moment. Slowly, deliberately, you reached out and took the watch from him. You ran your fingers over the plants and birds etched into the sides with care, contemplating your next words.
“You’re right,” you hummed, glancing up at him. His jaw was set, eyes glistening as he watched you. “This watch should go to someone who I can call my husband. Someone who can give me the things that I want and who will make me happy.”
Jake sucked in a breath, shifting from one foot to the other as you continued.
“Someone who is deserving of me,” you breathed, eyes shining as you gazed up at him. “Someone who I love.”
Jake hung his head as you finished, and you caught the faintest hint of a sniffle as you stepped forward. You took his right hand in yours, squeezing it lightly before opening it and placing the pocket watch back into his grasp. You gently curled his fingers around it, holding his hand in both of yours as you looked up at him.
His green eyes bore into yours, a questioning look on his face as he frowned.
“I don’t understand,” he murmured, shaking his head. You rolled your eyes, moving to wrap your arms around his neck as you leaned into him. Without a thought, he wrapped his arms around your waist, holding you close as your lips hovered over his.
“You idiot,” you chuckled, eyelids drooping as you stared into his eyes, willing him to see what the two of you had known all along. “I love you.”
Jake stared at you, eyes widened in shock. He studied you, seeming to try and find any trace of deception. When he saw that there was none, a grin broke out on his face.
“You do?” He asked quietly, eyes sparkling with joy now.
“Mhm,” you nodded, leaning in closer so that your lips brushed his gently. “I love you, Jake.”
His lips crashed against yours, desperate to feel you. You kissed him back with just as much passion, breaking away after a few moments. Jake’s lips chased after yours, but you pulled away from him with a giggle.
“Come with me,” you said in a hushed voice, grabbing his hand and pulling him out of the barn. Jake followed you eagerly, practically racing you up the steps and into the house. Your home was silent, indicating that no one else was there, and you quickly pulled Jake up the stairs and into your room.
Once you had crossed the threshold, Jake slammed the door shut, spinning you around so that you were pressed up against it. His lips grazed yours as his hands ran around to grab the back of your thighs, hoisting you up and locking them around his waist. His lips molded to yours as he pressed against your core, and you gasped as you felt the hard evidence of his desire press into your most sensitive parts, and Jake used this as an opportunity to slide his tongue against yours in languid strokes.
“Need you,” he moaned desperately, nipping at your bottom lip. Your hands ran across his shoulders, your right running up to tug on the strands of blond that curled at the nape of his neck. He let out a moan that had you grinding your core back against him, earning a whimper from the man in front of you.
“You have me,” you promised, pulling him back in for a kiss. His tongue was hot against you as you continued to grind down onto him. His hands moved to your hips, guiding your movements as he thrust up into you every so often. His lips pulled away from yours as he pressed hot, open-mouthed kisses from the corner of your mouth to the bottom of your earlobe. He sucked the flesh in between his lips, nibbling on it lightly before letting it go.
“Say it,” he breathed, hand palming at your breasts as you let out a wanton moan. You tilted your head as he began to suck on a patch of sensitive skin, making you see stars as he nipped every so often, laving the spot with his tongue. “Come on, honey girl. Say it.”
“I love you,” you gasped when he gave a particularly hard bite to the same spot just as he thrust up into you. Jake smirked against your neck, letting your legs drop from around him as he pulled back. You whined at the loss of contact, which only made Jake’s smirk grow bigger.
“Don’t worry, pretty girl,” he cooed, moving to sit at the foot of the bed. “Can’t do what we’re about to do with clothes on, can we?”
It took you a second to understand what he was saying. You supposed you should have felt apprehension at the very least, but in that moment, all you could feel was a mixture of desire and…love.
You quickly undid the buttons of your skirt, letting it fall to the floor. You then removed your socks and shoes, followed quickly by your shirt and then your bloomers. You were soon left standing in front of Jake in nothing but your corset and chemise. While you had undressed, Jake had removed his own clothing, now standing in front of you in just his drawers. You felt a blush creep up your neck as he stared at you, a familiar warmth in his green gaze.
Jake walked back over to you slowly, raising a hand to unlace your corset. You sucked in a breath as it fell away from you, hitting the floor with a light thud. His hands moved to the bottom of your corset, pausing as he looked at you for permission. You nodded, swallowing thickly as his fingers gripped the bottom of the garment, pulling it up and over your head. You were completely exposed to him now, and you moved to cover yourself out of embarrassment.
“No,” Jake murmured, shaking his head as he gazed at you. “I want to see you, honey girl. Want to see what’s mine.”
You shuddered at his words, a jolt of pleasure running up your spine as you pressed your thighs together. The movement didn’t go unnoticed by Jake who chuckled lightly before turning you gently so that the backs of your knees brushed the bed. He laid you down, shifting you so that your head rested against the pillows. You reached for him, and Jake leaned down to press his lips to yours once again, licking into your mouth with soft, deliberate strokes.
You gasped when you felt his fingers trace your folds, gathering the wetness that lay there and stroking back up to your clit. Your hips jolted off the bed, and he hushed you, pressing his lips in gentle kisses back towards your ear.
“Already so wet for me, sweetheart,” he chuckled, drawing small figure eights onto your clit, and you mewled at the sensation. “Always so responsive for me. Always such a good girl for me. How did I get so lucky to have such a sweet little thing like you in my life, hm?”
“Jakey,” you breathed, locking eyes with his as he pressed a finger into you, causing your back to arch off the bed.
“It’s okay, honey girl,” he cooed, reaching up to stroke your hair. “I’ve got you, sweet thing. Always feel so tight and warm. Can’t wait to feel you wrapped around my cock.”
You felt yourself clench at his words and he added a second finger, scissoring you open as he continued to stroke into you.
“You like the sound of that, huh?” He chuckled, placing a tender kiss to your jaw. “Like the sound of me filling you up? Giving you what you need?”
You nodded your head vigorously, eyes never leaving his. He smirked once again, looking down at where his fingers disappeared inside you before glancing back up.
“Tell me what it is you need, baby,” he whispered, watching you fall apart as he added a third finger and hitting that spongy spot inside of you. You mewled, throwing your head back. Jake kissed down the column of your throat and over the curve of your breast. He took your right nipple into his mouth, laving the bud with his tongue. The sensations were becoming too much, and you felt the familiar tingle begin to grow in your lower stomach.
Jake let go of you with a quiet pop before switching his attention to your other breast. Your hands were still tangled in his hair, holding him to you as your hips raised in time with the stroke of his fingers, desperately chasing your high.
“Come on, sweet girl,” he rasped, gazing up at you from between the valley of your breasts. “Tell me what you need.”
“Need your cock, Jakey,” you whimpered, grinding down on his fingers. “Need you inside me. Need to feel you fill me up. Need you.”
Jake reached up to take your bottom lip between his teeth, sucking on it gently before pulling it and letting it go.
“You have me,” he echoed your words from earlier. “Now come.”
At his command, the pleasure inside you burst, washing over you in waves as you cried out, clawing at his shoulders as he continued to pump his fingers into you slowly, riding out your high. As you came down, he slipped his fingers out of you, and you felt bereft of his touch. You watched in awe as you raised his fingers to his lips, taking them into his mouth as he made a show of licking them clean.
“Just like honey,” he hummed. You reached for him, pulling him to you as you kissed him. You licked into his mouth, moaning as you tasted yourself on his tongue. You pulled back just enough to speak against his lips.
“Want you inside of me,” you breathed, staring into his eyes, the green swallowed whole by the black of his pupils. “Want you to make love to me.”
Jake’s breath hitched as he studied you.
“Are you sure?” He asked you, and you nodded, reaching a hand down in between the two of you to grasp his hard length. Jake nearly choked as you ran your palm up and down him, grasping lightly every so often.
“I’m sure,” you whispered. Jake’s eyes bore into yours before nodding, shuffling out of his own drawers, baring himself to you. Your eyes widened as you took him in. His shaft curved towards his stomach, the tip an angry red as it leaked pre-cum.
You swallowed thickly, reaching your hand out once more to run your fingertips over the head, moving down to grip him firmly. Jake let out a low groan, throwing his head back as you stroked him experimentally.
“So good for me, darlin’,” he moaned, reaching down to remove your hand. He shot you a playful wink as he slipped his fingers through yours, resting them by your head. “But if you keep that up, I’m going to come before we even get to the fun part.”
You smiled shyly up at him as he took a hold of himself, running his length up and down your folds to gather the wetness you so freely gave him. You let out a high-pitched whimper every time the tip brushed against your clit, and you threw your head back at the pleasurable feeling. Finally, Jake rested the head against you, glancing up at you once more.
“Are you sure?” He asked you, and you nodded.
“Please, Jakey,” you whined. Jake pressed a chaste kiss to the corner of your mouth before leaning back. You gasped as you felt him press the head of his cock into your tight hole, the sensation foreign but not altogether unpleasant. He pressed a little more of his length in, pausing to let you accommodate to his size. He cradled you in his arms, leaning back down to whisper gentle words of encouragement into your ear as he slowly pressed more and more of himself into you. After what felt like ages, you finally felt the coarse hairs of his base press against your clit, sending a shock of pleasure up your spine that had you clenching around him. Jake let out a hiss, pressing his face into the column of your throat. Jake took your other hand in his, lacing his fingers through yours and pressing them on the other side of your head mirror to the ones on your right. He pulled back to look at you, eyes hazy with pleasure.
“I’m going to move now, okay?” He asked you, and you nodded, whining as he pulled back out of you slowly before thrusting back in. He continued his movement, brushing his nose against yours as his pace built, the head of him hitting that spot inside you with every pass. It wasn’t long before the vague discomfort gave way to pleasure, and soon your hips were raising to meet his.
“Such a good girl,” he moaned, giving you a kiss that was more teeth than lips. “Feel so fucking good wrapped around me like this. Taking me so well, yeah? Can feel you squeezing me, gripping me like you don’t ever want me to leave. Your cunt is so greedy for me and my big cock, huh? Such a greedy pussy, and it’s all mine now.”
You moaned wantonly at his words, your head thrown back into the pillows as he continued to rut into your soaked core. A squelching sound could be heard from where your bodies connected, but you didn’t have it in you to feel embarrassed. Not when his cock was hitting you in all the right places, his filthy words only adding to your excitement.
“Jakey,” you cried, feeling the pleasure begin to peak. Jake grunted as you clenched particularly hard around him.
“That’s it, honey girl,” he cooed, releasing your hand to cup your cheek as he gazed down at you. “Want you to cum around me, milk me dry. Milk me for all I’m worth. My balls have been aching for weeks. Havin’ to jerk off at the thought of what this sweet cunt would feel like when she drains me dry. Oh, fuck.
He gasped as your pussy spasmed around him.
“That turn you on, baby? The thought of me jerkin’ off to the thought of fillin’ you up with my cum? This pretty, little pussy is just begging me to come inside her, huh?” He groaned, thrusts becoming harder, and you could feel the coil begin to tighten.
“You close, huh, honey? I can feel how close you are. Can feel how hard your grippin’ me. That’s it, sweetheart. Come for me. Come all over my cock.”
His words were all the permission you needed, and you came with a loud cry, body spasming underneath him as he continued to stroke in and out of you as you rode out your high. Jake’s hips began to move faster, chasing his own high as he pistoned in and out of you, the sound of skin slapping echoing throughout the room.
“Gonna fill you up, honey girl,” he groaned, eyes glazed over as pleasure washed over him. “Gonna fill you up, and maybe even knock you up. How’s that sound? Just thinkin’ about you all round and swollen with my baby has me goin’ crazy. Want you leakin’ with my cum by the time I’m through with you. Everybody in town is going to know you’re my girl, and they’ll know how good I make you feel. How good I take care of my girl. Fuck.”
His words had you tightening around him. They shouldn’t have made you feel the way you were feeling, but the sight of Jake so lost in the feel of you as he neared his end had another orgasm ripping through you, right off the back of the first one.
“Knew you’d like the sound of that,” he smirked, thrusts becoming sloppy. “I’m gonna come so hard for you, baby. Gonna fill you up with so much cum you’ll be leaking me for days. Shit. Need to hear you say it, baby. Tell me what you told me earlier. Be my good fucking girl and tell me.”
“I love you,” you keened, barely coherent as wave after wave of pleasure washed over you. “Want you to fill me up, Jakey, please. Wanna feel you.”
“Shit, darlin’,” he gasped hips stuttering, and you felt red hot spurts begin to fill you. Jake pinched his eyes closed, lost in his own pleasure as he began to babble. “Fuck! Oh, fuck, I’m coming. I’m coming for you, baby. It’s all for you, that’s it. Take it. Take all of it and milk me. Jesus Christ. Oh, I love you. I love you. I love you so much, Scout. Oh…”
His hips slowed as his orgasm subsided, and he practically collapsed on top of you as the last tremors of his release rocked through him. You ran your fingers through his hair, skin hot and sweaty as you both calmed down. Jake’s head rested against your chest, and you let out a contented sigh as he placed a gentle kiss to the swell of your breast before looking up at you. His green eyes were filled with love and awe, emotions that you were sure reflected in your own.
“I love you,” he murmured, earning a small smile.
“I love you too.”
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You awoke the next morning feeling a soreness between your legs, but a pleasant buzz filling you nonetheless. You shifted, taking note of the strong arms that held you tighter against a broad chest at your back. Warm lips pressed gentle kisses up the curve of your shoulder and to your temple.
“Good morning, honey girl.”
You smiled turning to meet the bright green eyes of Jake Seresin.
“Good morning,” you greeted softly, turning so that you faced him. His head was propped up against his hand as the other one traced up and down your side. “I’m surprised you’re still here. I figured you’d be sick of me by now.”
“Sick of you?” He chuckled, shaking his head, leaning forward to meet you in a lazy kiss before pulling back. “I’ll never get sick of you, pretty girl.”
“So,” you hummed, glancing at him slyly. “What’s next?”
“Well,” he began, smirking lightly. “I figured we’d get dressed, and we’d go downstairs so I could make you breakfast, and then we have a repeat of last night.”
“Is that all you want?” you asked him quietly, insecurity rearing its ugly head as he spoke. His smirk dropped into a frown, and he shook his head.
“No,” he stated firmly, looking at you seriously. “No, Scout. I meant what I said. I love you. I love you more than I’ve ever loved anything. I intend to make an honest woman out of you if you’ll have me.”
You smiled at his words, biting your lip to keep from smiling.
“I suppose you’ll do,” you smirked, earning a chuckle from the blond.
“You’re such a tease,” he admonished, leaning in to press his lips to yours. You opened your mouth to him, letting him stroke your tongue with his in easy strokes.
“Jake!”
The two of you jumped as you heard the front door slam shut, Bradley’s voice carrying up the stairs. Your eyes widened as you scrambled to get out of bed, searching for some article of clothing to throw on to preserve your modesty.
“Jake, I know you’re in here. I need your help!”
Jake cursed from the other side of the bed, throwing his trousers and shirt on as you threw your chemise over your head just as Bradley burst through the door. Jake scowled at him, moving to shield your body with his.
“Don’t you know how to knock?” He snapped, glaring up at the brunette. Bradley rolled his eyes, giving you an apologetic smile.
“Hey, Scout,” he greeted briefly before turning his attention back to Jake. “Look, I’m glad that the two of you have made up, but this is serious. I need your help to wrangle the group.”
“What’s going on? Did Javy sleep with someone’s wife again?” Jake scowled, watching you as you moved to put more clothing on. “If you hadn’t guessed, I’m kind of busy, and Javy is a big boy. He can take care of his own messes.”
Bradley shook his head. “It’s not Javy, it’s Bob.”
Jake and you became more alert at that, eyes shooting up to look at Bradley as he stood in the doorway, shifting from one foot to the other nervously.
“What do you mean?” Jake questioned, scrambling to put his boots on.
“Some men down at the saloon were saying some pretty nasty shit to Bunny, and Bob stepped in. That’s when I came to get you ‘cause I knew it was about to get nasty, and I need all the help I can get.”
“Shit,” Jake muttered, turning to look at you. He placed his hands on your shoulders, giving you a gentle kiss to your forehead. “I need you to stay here, honey girl.”
“What?” You frowned, shaking your head. “No, I’m coming with you.”
“Scout, please,” he pleaded, looking at you with furrowed brows. “This could get ugly, and I’d feel a lot better knowing that you are here at home. Safe. Will you please just do this for me?”
You regarded him for a moment, nodding finally, and Jake let out a relieved sigh. He pressed a chaste kiss to your lips before turning to follow Bradley out the door. “I’ll be back before you know it, okay?”
He disappeared down the hall, and a few moments later you heard the front door slam shut once more. You sighed, looking around the room before deciding to strip your sheets. It took you a few minutes to gather all of them, placing them in the basket by the door and moving with it downstairs. You placed the basket by the back door, eyeing the kitchen before shaking your head.
“Ridiculous,” you muttered, making for the front door. You walked briskly down the road and towards the saloon where a small crowd had gathered. You pushed your way through, earning jeers and curses from the people around you. Just as you made your way to the front of the crowd, your heart dropped, ice chilling your bones. You saw Marshal Simpson slam Jake up against the side of the saloon, cuffing his hands behind his back. Jake winced at the rough treatment, Simpson hauling him back so roughly that he stumbled a ways, glaring back at the older man.
“Is this all really necessary?” Jake drawled, sarcasm dripping from his tone as Simpson scowled.
“Yes,” the marshal snapped, pushing Jake forward as they began to walk. Jake’s eyes scanned the crowd as he moved, eyes landing on you, softening. He paused in front of you, and you felt the tears begin to stream down your face.
“Hey, sweet girl,” he whispered, glancing back at Simpson who glanced between the two of you. “Everything is going to be alright, yeah? Don’t you worry about a thing. I’ll be out as a free man before you know it.”
“You shouldn’t lie to her, Hangman,” Simpson said, casting you a sympathetic look. “We all know that this is the end of the line for you.”
Jake frowned at his words, moving to say something before Marshal Simpson pushed him forward towards the town jail. Jake cast looked over his shoulder at you, giving you a tight smile before being ushered through the doors.
Your eyes scanned the street for anyone who might be able to help, but you didn’t see any of the other Daggers as the crowd began to disperse. You felt despair and hopelessness fill you. You had been so close to happiness, and you knew in your heart that Jake was a different man from the one the marshal was sent to track down.
Your eyes continued to rove over the townsfolk before landing on a familiar face. The pit in your stomach dropped, terror gripping at you as your breath came out in short gasps. Black, bottomless eyes stared right at you, a malicious grin on Isaac’s face as he watched you. You choked back a scream as he tipped his hat to you, and a wave of realization hit you.
This had been a setup, a trap. Isaac had planned this, and he had set the Dagger Posse up to be arrested. As far as you knew, Jake was the only one that had been caught, but that would have been enough for the man who stood on the opposite side of the street. You gathered your skirts and ran in the opposite direction, desperate to get away from the evil man. You had to find the other Daggers. You had to find Maverick or Tom. Someone had to have a plan on how to get Jake out of this mess.
You rounded a building off of the main street, leaning against it and sinking to the ground. You let the tears flow freely, the sense of helplessness overtaking you as you realized just how much trouble Jake was in. Even if you managed to get him out, there was no guarantee that it would be legally or without injury to someone, and yet you were determined to try.
You had just had a taste of what it would be like to lose Jake, and the thought alone sent another wave of tears rolling down your cheek. No. No, you would not lose him again. You scrubbed at your eyes, putting on a brave face as you stood. Squaring your shoulders, you glanced around to find you were alone. You made your way back, heading for Maverick and Penny’s home.
Someone would have a plan, and you were bound and determined to help.
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Tag List: @jakeseresinlover @haley-hotchner @queerqueenlynn @dempy @fanficfandomlove @aworldwideapart @stoptaking-the-good-names @maximus890 @sky2nd @devil-angel-winchester @hopip99 @hookslove1592 @lemmons1998 @yuckosworld @uniquedreamlandcheesecake @imamomof8 @pietrothemovie @kmc1989 @mamachasesmayhem @hangmansgbaby @imnotcreativeenoughforthisblog @deliriousfangirl61 @hangmandruigandmav @na-ta-sh-aa @witchybabel @keyrani @i-wanna-be-your-muse @buckysteveloki-me @clancycucumber230 @dreamlandcreations @emotionallysalty @fandom-life-12 @a-girl-who-loves-disney @nouis-bum @topherwrites @squeaky-bumblbee22 @hangmansgbaby @goldenseresinretriever @bobgasm @linkpk88 @number-0-iz @xl-pr @stillreadingfantasy @shibble @horseshoegirl @Emandems10 @nerdytreeflower @roostersforevergirl @bucky-sdoll @alldaysdreamer @piceous21 @ziuridian @princessofglitterland @selse02 @eyeswidecovered
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a-little-unsteddie · 3 months
Text
stuck in your throat || 2.1
[here] || 2.2 || 2.3 || 2.4
i am almost done with writing ch 3, and that means i can publish chapter 2! woo! thanks for everyone’s patience! i’ll be posting twice a week! wed and sat :) this is a short part, but the other three parts are all *much* longer lol.
ch 1, part 1
masterlist
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By the time Steve got home, it was a little after six in the evening, so he wasn’t sure if he would hear from Chrissy that night or not. Either way, he was very excited to be able to tell Robin that he got the job.
He felt a buzzing under his skin, an itch to do something productive, so he went to his bedroom and began to sort out his clothes. He immediately realized that he didn’t know how long the tour was going to be, so he pulled out his phone and added the question to his notesapp. How he went so long without asking about it was beyond him, as it seemed like a bit of information that was important.
Putting his phone down, Steve returned to his open closet and stared at his clothes in contemplation. It was at some point after this that he received a call, after he’d started filling a suitcase but before he’d even filled it half way.
Recognizing the number, Steve answered, “Hello, this is Steve speaking.”
“Hello, Steve! It’s Chrissy, how are you?” the woman on the other end responded with a cheerful tone.
“Hi, Chrissy! I’m good, how was your day?” he asked with a wince, god, he hated small talk.
“It was great, thanks for asking!” she answered. “The reason for my call is to let you know that you’ve been chosen as the best qualified candidate! I’ve already emailed you the paperwork that needs to be filled out, as well as details of the contract.”
“Oh, my god! Thank you!” Steve said, trying to act surprised, and not as though Eddie had already told him.
“I know Eddie already told you,” well, there went that, “but I still wanted to call you and let you know officially.”
“Uh, yes, he did tell me,” Steve admitted, slightly embarrassed, but pushed through.
He hated phone calls.
“That’s alright, I figured he would. Do you have any questions for me?” Chrissy asked, a clicking sound happening that Steve assumed was her fidgeting with a pen.
“I do, actually! Two.”
“Great! Hit me with ‘em.”
“How long should I pack for?” Steve asked, biting his lip nervously. He looked at the mess he had created of his room again, this time while trying to pack his suitcase.
“The second half of the tour is about two and a half months, but depending on how things go, you could be hired for a full time position while he’s not touring,” Chrissy answered easily, to which Steve hummed as he filed the information away. “We’ll also be sleeping in hotels some of the nights, so you’ll have access to laundry units in them.”
“Sweet! And, well, the second question might be a bit rude,” he confessed, leaning to rest his back against his bed.
Chrissy’s laughter echoed from the phone, “I’m sure I’ve been asked worse. What is it?”
“Do you happen to be hiring for any other reasons? My best friend, Robin, is looking for a full time job so she doesn’t have to work three part time jobs,” Steve explained, trying to be as appropriate as possible while inquiring about another job for a different person.
“Funny you should ask,” Chrissy said, sounding as though she were grinning, “a stipulation of Eddie getting a nanny is that I would hire an assistant to help with my workload for the band. I’ve only received two applicants, so I’d be more than thrilled to add a third to it. I’ll email you the listing to send to your friend.”
“Really? I honestly didn’t expect that to work,” Steve said, mildly impressed with himself.
Chrissy laughed again, “Well, I haven’t hired her yet,” she teased.
“Still, the only thing I was hesitant about was leaving her behind,” he grabbed a random shirt and started folding it to have something to fidget with. “I’m glad that there’s a chance. I’ll definitely have her send in an application.”
“Great! Any other questions?” she asked, to which Steve responded in the negative.
“Not at the moment, no.”
“I’ll get you the information of what we talked about, then, and you should be good. We’ll see you on the 17th.”
“See you on the 17th,” Steve confirmed with a wide smile. The line went dead, and he immediately checked his email for the documents she had sent before the call.
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i tagged everyone who was tagged in ch 1, and anyone who requested it in the last part. lmk if i missed you, and if you want to be added, verify either in the comments, tags, messaging me, or your bio that you’re 18+. thank you &lt;;3
@marklee-blackmore @paintsplatteredandimperfect @steddie-as-they-go @disrespectedgoatman @lingeringmirth @hyperfixated-on-stuff @swimmingbirdrunningrock @littlewildflowerkitten @sani-86 @thegingerrapunzel @adventures-in-mangaland @missingmalfoy1 @yellowdevilkitten @extra-transitional @queen-stevie @stevesbipanic @crypticcorvidinacottage @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @eyehartart @gutterflower77 @chaosgremlinmunson @goodolefashionedloverboi @fairytalesreality @dawners
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jagibee · 10 months
Text
Call Me Luna
(Stray Kids x Reader)
Chapter 6
6,213 Words
A/N: Sorry that the story is being so slow! I promise it will pick up in a bit! In the meantime, enjoy some Chanlix! Also, just a reminder, when I write something like “‘“this”’”, it means the characters are speaking in English.
TW: Talk of dieting, discussion of sex
After a very eventful day, it hadn’t taken you very long to fall asleep once you had completed your nightly routine. The bed was nice, if a little stiff, and you ordered more room service for dinner, this time knowing what you liked. Unfortunately, it wasn’t as fun as the last time you ate, but you still went to bed full and satisfied.
Then your phone rang and startled you out of your sleep. You didn’t even check the time when you picked up immediately after seeing the caller ID.
“Hello? Chan? Is everything alright?”
“Y/N!”
Well. You wanted the sound of him saying your name tattooed on the inside of your brain.
“What is it, Chan?”
From the other side of the phone call, you could hear a couple different muffled voices before there was a shushing sound.
“Just wanted to hear your voice, really. And make sure you’re okay after today.”
You felt your heart melt a little at that. “I’m fine, great even. You’re all so amazing, this is literally my dream job.”
The muffled voices were even louder, but you still couldn’t make them out. You were curious about them, but didn’t want to pry.
“I’m gonna be honest with you, Y/N. Half of the reason I called is because I need a break from my other members asking questions about you, and when they’re going to meet you, and why they didn’t get to meet you today.” You heard him sigh dramatically. “One of these days I’m actually going to start selling them off to Stays.”
You felt your lips twitch. “How much are you selling them for?”
Chan hummed thoughtfully. “I think I’ll just trade them for their SKZOOs. If someone comes up to me with one, I’ll let them rent that member for an hour.”
You heard an outburst from his side and laughed before replying. “If you do that, there will be a stampede of people at the company building waving their SKZOOs. Anyway, what have you been telling your members about me?”
“That you’re hot!”
Your heart fluttered. Was that…?
“Han! Give me my phone back!”
You heard a commotion and a sharp yelp before someone said something over the phone again.
“I am so sorry, I definitely did not say that- not that I don’t think you’re hot! Or, well, I don’t not think that, but there’s- I don’t want to disrespect you or-”
You couldn’t help but burst into laughter. “Chan, it’s alright! I don’t not think you’re hot, either.”
There was a pause from every voice on the other side and you started to wonder if you went too far when you heard a quiet “thank you?”
You smirked at that. “You don’t have to thank me, it’s sort of obvious.”
The other voices started cackling at that and in order to save Chan, you changed the topic. “So, are you still at the studio?”
Seemingly glad of your mercy, he sighed slightly before speaking. “Yeah, but we’re almost finished up. I’ve got Changbin and Hannie with me, plus Seungmin because he said everyone at his dorm kept bragging about getting to meet you.”
Your cheeks suddenly felt very hot. “Really?”
“Yeah, they really liked you. But it’s kind of hard not to. Oh, by the way! Tomorrow I’ll pick you up at the front of the building again and then the two of us are having a meeting with Felix to discuss his heat. Sound good?”
“Sounds great,” you responded, trying your best to stay calm despite what he said about it being hard not to like you.
“Alright! Then we have a recording session, where you can meet the rest of our members.” There was a small eruption of cheers from the other line and you felt your cheeks hurt from how hard you were smiling. “Then, I was thinking we could all go out to dinner, if you’re interested? I figured we could celebrate you meeting all of us and the end of your first week and everything.”
You stifled a snort. “I haven’t actually been here for a full week. I arrived on Tuesday and my first day at the company was Wednesday.”
You heard Chan giggle. “Yeah, well, when you’re with these guys, it’s like dog years or something. Every day actually lasts a week, so really we’ll be celebrating your third week!”
You were glad that hotels were required to have scent blockers on all of the rooms, otherwise the entire floor might have smelled the cacophony of emotions you felt.
Rolling over on your bed, you almost choked on your own saliva when you saw the time on the clock. “Well, as much as I enjoy talking to you, I think that in order to not fall asleep in the middle of my third week, I should go back to sleep. Can I let you go?”
There was a clatter from your phone before you heard Chan’s voice again. “Shit, did we wake you up? Sorry! But yeah, go back to sleep for sure. In fact, we should go back to the dorms. Seungmin fell asleep on Changbin’s lap.”
Fuck, you couldn’t wait to meet them. “Okay then, I’ll see you tomorrow! Get back to your dorms safely!”
“We‘ll try our best. See you tomorrow, Y/N.”
The next time you woke up was much less eventful, your alarm ringing out rather than your ringtone.
You took a few minutes to just lay down and stare at the ceiling. There’s no way that really happened, you thought. There’s no way any of this is really happening.
However, a quick check of your call logs confirmed that you received a call from bangfuckingchan at 3:52 a.m.
Before you could have an existential crisis at too-damn-early in the morning, you decided to get out of bed.
After hanging out with the boys yesterday, you decided to put on an outfit that was a bit more casual, something that didn’t make you feel out of place while they were laying around eating tteokbokki in their sweatpants. You finished your morning routine and got in the car once it arrived.
The drive wasn’t too long, the hotel was just a bit too far to walk so you arrived at the company building quickly.
If there was anything that could rip your earlier doubts from your mind, it was the sight of Chan and Felix waiting on the sidewalk and waving at your van as you drove up.
You were so excited to see them again, you almost tripped when getting out. Luckily, you managed to catch yourself before face planting. Unluckily, it was still far from graceful as you extracted your foot from where it had gotten caught.
You turned to see Chan and Felix jog up to you. Before they were able to say anything about your awkward landing, you blurted out, “What, no coffee today?”
Chan blinked in bewilderment. “Uh… no? Are you alright?”
You furrowed your eyebrows at him in mock offense. “What, you’ve never seen someone get out of a car like that? That’s the style these days.”
Felix grinned at you and turned to Chan. “Yeah, hyung. Everyone is doing it. There’s a dance challenge and everything.”
Chan just sighed at the two of you. “Really?”
“Totally. You probably just haven’t heard about it because you were too busy getting hip surgery, old man.”
You let out a startled laugh at Felix’s joke while Chan’s jaw dropped.
Once he got over his shock, Chan turned his face to the sky and groaned. “Ugh, you need to stop hanging out with Seungmin.”
“We literally live together.”
Chan reached out and pulled Felix’s beanie down over his face. While he struggled to escape, Chan turned back to you and pointed his thumb over his shoulder. “So, there’s a cafe less than a block away, I was thinking we could get some breakfast and then get down to business?”
Felix finally emerged and flicked Chan’s cheek in retribution. Before they could start fighting in the street, you decided to intervene.
“Breakfast sounds perfect. Let’s go!”
You grabbed them by their hoodie sleeves and started walking in the direction Chan had pointed earlier. Felix slid his arm from your grasp to hold your hand normally and you hoped he couldn’t feel how your heart rate sped up. Chan seemed perfectly fine with you hanging on to his shoulder like a sugar glider, but your hand was cramping, so you released him. He glanced back at you before offering you a crooked elbow. You were thankful for the face mask the company required you to wear as a precaution so they couldn’t see how their actions were affecting you.
The walk was short but nice, the three of you striding along in comfortable silence.
Before you knew it, Chan was steering you into a little shop with flowers and herbs on the windowsills. The place was larger than most cafes, but it didn’t take away from the cozy vibe. There were beanbag chairs and couches along with several plants both hanging from the ceiling and settled along the walls. The only lighting was from the windows and the dainty fairy lights winding back and forth across the ceiling like a dazzling spiderweb. There were fuzzy rugs layered on top of each other, each one more cushy than the one before. In the center of the room was a counter with several baked goods on display. There was a worker watering the plants before she turned to you and welcomed you in.
“Wow. Okay, I guess I know where I’m going to work if you guys ever fire me.”
Felix giggled next to you. “I know, right? Just wait until you see the little desserts! If you leave and come work here, I expect you to bring me free leftovers.”
“Deal,” you told him, squeezing his fingers in yours.
Chan unhooked his arm from yours and instead rested his hand on your back, gently pushing you forward until you stood in line.
There was just one person in front of you, so you didn’t have to wait long. Felix shuffled you over to look at the pastries.
You almost gasped at how amazing they looked. There were little cakes shaped like flowers, cookies with hearts frosted on them, muffins with faces made out of chocolate chips.
Felix seemed particularly drawn to a little cat-shaped brownie. The ears were made of little wedges of chocolate and the whiskers were frosted on.
“Do you want that?”
Felix glanced back at you, eyes wide in surprise. “Hm? Oh, well, it looks good but I’m supposed to be dieting. You know, I’ll probably eat a lot during my heat, especially sweets, so I like to just avoid them for a bit before so I’m not eating too much.”
“Felix, Y/N! What do you guys want?” Chan called from the register.
You both told him what drinks you wanted and Felix went off to find a place to sit.
“Actually,” you turned back to Chan. “Can I have the little brownie cat, too?”
“That one?”
“Mhmm.”
“Are you going to fight me to pay for it?” He asked, eyes crinkling above his mask.
“No,” you mused, “I’ve decided that if you want to pay for me that bad, that’s on you. As a matter of fact, why don’t you just buy me the whole shelf of desserts? Maybe all of the drinks too. Or just buy me the cafe. Whatever you want.”
He chuckled at you, shaking his head. “Maybe later. For now, I think a drink and a cat brownie are good.”
You shrugged. “Fine. But let me know when you’re ready to sign the real estate papers.”
Turning around to look for Felix, you found him sitting in a window seat tucked behind a circular coffee table reading something on his phone.
You dropped down next to him, back to the window, and had a mini heart attack when he instantly moved over to rest his head on your shoulder.
“Have you seen this?” He turned his phone so you could read it.
JYP Entertainment Signs On Full-time Caretakers
Earlier this morning, the company revealed that it would be signing on caretakers for a few of their bands. The caretakers’ names or identities were not released, but we did get a list of the bands. Each of these bands have substantial fanbases, so it will be interesting to see how they react to their favorite idols working with a caretaker.
What is caretaking and why would a K-pop band need a caretaker?
Caretaking, while it has become much more common within the last few years, has been around for decades. Usually, only the wealthy could afford them, but nowadays, several people can hire a part-time caretaker with just a click of a button on their phone. However, with a company as influential as JYPE, using the caretakers full-time seems to be the way to go.
The roll of caretakers is to make sure that omegas are happy and content so that they don’t go into omega drop. While companies don’t always tell us why their artists go on hiatus, it is safe to assume that with their stressful jobs, there must have been some danger regarding omega drop, so it’s good that this company is taking their omegan artists’ health seriously.
You let out a noise somewhere between a laugh and a scoff. “Are they serious? They’re making a lot of guesses, and some of this is just straight up wrong.”
“What’s wrong?” Chan asked, showing up to the table and setting down a tray of drinks, along with the cat brownie.
He grabbed the drinks and set one in front of Felix and another in front of you, raising his eyebrows underneath his baseball cap as he sat down across from the two of you.
Felix slid his phone over to Chan. “This morning, the company released a statement about the new caretakers.”
Chan’s eyebrows furrowed. “Yeah? That’s not what’s wrong, is it?”
Felix tapped his phone to bring Chan’s attention to the screen. “This article is just being a bit weird about the whole caretaker thing.” Felix’s eyes shifted to the cat brownie. “Ah, you bought one for yourself?”
You smiled at him. “Well, it looks good, doesn’t it? But it seems a bit big. I’m not sure I could finish the whole thing on my own.”
He glanced between you and the brownie carefully.
“It’s a shame, too. I’d hate to waste food this good by throwing it in the trash.”
His lips pursed together.
“If only there was someone here who reminded me of brownies and cats that I could share it with.”
He huffed. “Hey, noona.”
“Yes?” You hummed.
He closed his eyes and slumped back into your shoulder. “Do you want to share it?”
You gasped theatrically. “Why, that’s a great idea! I can’t believe I didn’t think of it myself!”
You felt him shake with suppressed laughter as you moved the brownie over to cut it.
“Wait!” He yelped, sitting up. “Are you done with my phone?” He asked Chan.
Chan had finished reading the article by now and was watching you and Felix.
He straightened up and passed the phone back. “Yeah, I read it. God, that article. Well, hopefully people will know that that’s not the best source for information about our company or caretakers. I texted our managers, though, and they said it really doesn’t matter what one article says.”
You ran your fingers along your cup. “At least it’s not negative? It does say it’s good that the company is taking your health seriously. Of course, it would be better if they didn’t only mention omegas. All subgenders need caring for. Also, caretakers aren’t just there to prevent omega drop. That makes it sound like we just sit around and read magazines as long as omegas aren’t in danger of omega drop.”
“Hey.” You looked up as Chan reached across the table and took your hand from your cup, holding it in his. “We don’t think you’re just going to sit around reading magazines. We know you worked hard for this, you went to school for years and everything. No matter what people say about you or caretakers in general, we’ve got you.”
Felix looped his arms around your waist. “We’ve got you, noona.”
You squeezed Chan’s hand and ruffled Felix’s hair. “Thanks. I’m not taking it personally though, I just wish people wouldn’t make assumptions like that.”
Both of them nodded at you as you took off your mask, grabbed your drink, and took a sip. “Oh, shit. That’s good.”
They started cackling at your change in attitude when you remembered something from earlier. “Hey, Felix, what did you want to use your phone for?”
His eyes lit up. “Oh! I wanted to take a picture of the brownie and post it on bubble.”
He grabbed his phone and took a picture from above. However, he frowned at his phone one it was done.
“What is it?” You asked, taking another sip of your drink.
He shook his head. “There’s something missing…”
Felix glanced between you and the dessert and you tilted your head in confusion.
“Oh!” He clapped his hands together. “Noona, can I have your hand?”
You raised your hand for him and he took it without hesitation. He moved your hand and his to make a heart shape next to the brownie and took a picture with his other hand.
He brought the phone closer to his face, his freckles dancing as his eyes crinkled.
“Oh!” He looked up from his phone again. “Channie-hyung, did you want to be in the picture?”
Chan had moved his mask under his chin in order to drink his juice, so you could see his face as he smiled. “No, that’s alright Lix. Go ahead and post it.”
Felix nodded as he did just that and set his phone down. “Okay, now let’s see if it tastes as good as it looks!”
You smiled at his enthusiasm. “Sure thing! Will you pass me the knife, “‘“baby”’”?”
The two of you froze and blinked at each other before you realized that you should apologize. “Oh my god, I am so, so sorry. I should have asked to call you that and I didn’t-“
“No, no!” Felix said, waving his hands. “I actually really like being called that.” You couldn’t see much of his face since he still had his mask on, but as he handed you the knife, you could see the tops of his cheeks stretching like he was smiling.
You tightened your fingers around your drink, trying your best not to squeeze it too hard and have it explode on you. “Well, alright,” you replied, summoning your courage, “I guess I’ll have to call you that more often, then.”
Felix’s eyes widened a bit at your comment but before he could respond, Chan cleared his throat. “As much as I love this, we should be getting back to the company soon. You want to eat the cat now instead of taking pictures?”
Felix rolled his eyes and stuck his tongue out at Chan as you cut the cat into thirds.
“Three?” Chan asked, tilting his head in confusion.
You held up the knife dramatically. “If I don’t argue with you about paying, you don’t argue with me about eating.”
He ducked his head, adjusting his hat. “Ah, fine. Sure.”
You grinned and turned to Felix. “Youngest first, right?”
He shook his head at you. “No, no, you’re new here, you go first, noona.”
You shrugged at him. “Alright.” You picked up a forkful from your third of the cat and held it in front of him.
His eyebrows raised at you. “R-really?”
You narrowed your eyes. “Do you want me to make airplane noises too?”
Felix’s lips twitched up as he leaned forward and ate the brownie off your fork.
“Oh my god,” he groaned, “I love this.”
You took your own bite and instantly understood his reaction. “Holy shit. Did they put the secret to happiness in this or something?”
Chan wheeze-laughed at your antics before taking his own bite. He stopped laughing immediately and his eyes widened. “Wow.”
The three of you quickly finished the cat brownie, Chan and Felix having a mini battle with their forks at one point.
You left the cafe, making sure to remember the name, and walked back to the company the same as before, one arm looped through Chan’s and one hand holding Felix’s.
Once you got to the company building, Chan told you that there was a small meeting room that you would be going to in order to discuss Felix’s heat.
You and Felix followed Chan’s lead as you all piled into the elevator and made your way to a door labeled Meeting Room 32J.
The room itself was fairly plain and it obviously wasn’t in use much. The walls were completely bare, the table was plain black-painted wood with six seats, two on each long side and one on each short side. There were two windows on the back wall and that was about it for decorations.
You sat down on one of the long sides of the table, Chan and Felix across from you, and you all took your face masks off.
You noticed Felix shifting uneasily and thought about how to make him more comfortable. Reaching out your hand, you wrapped it around his own and he glanced up at you from where he’d been staring at the table.
“Hey, “‘“baby”’”,” you murmured, “do you want to take your scent blockers off? And have me and Channie take ours off too?”
He blinked at you before grinning and ducking his head. “Yeah, that sounds nice. Thanks, noona.”
You squeezed his hand. “Of course.”
Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Chan smiling at you before he started peeling off Felix’s scent blocker with the ease of someone who had done it a thousand times.
Once he’d removed both Felix’s and his own, and you removed yours, Felix visibly relaxed at the blend of scents. With your earthy-floral scent, Chan’s eucalyptus, and Felix’s lemon dessert, the room was overtaken by a nice, sweet, nature-like aroma. You felt relief in your shoulders from tension you didn’t even know you were carrying and sank down in your seat a little.
Chan cleared his throat and sat forward, folding his hands in front of him. “So,” he started, “I’m going to be honest, I don’t know exactly what we need to talk about or how to talk about it, so if one of you two wants to start…”
You giggled. “Chan, I know you’re used to being the leader, but this isn’t my first time as a caretaker. I know what we have to talk about, and what boundaries we need to set, but if I have any questions about specifics regarding idol life and your company, I’ll definitely ask. Is it alright if I lead this meeting?”
His shoulders slumped as he exhaled. “Please do.”
You let go of Felix’s hand to dig through your bag and bring out your notebook and a copy of the band’s files. You flipped the page to the one with Felix’s information and slid the papers over to him.
“This is what they gave me about you and your heat. It’s not much, so we’ll definitely have to go over more specifics about what your heat is like and what you like to do before, during, and after it, but let’s make sure we prioritize. What are some things not in this file that you think I need to know? And the list can be as long or as short as you want it to be.”
Felix and Chan stared at you for a few moments with wide eyes.
You frowned at them and crossed your arms over your chest. “What?”
Felix blinked and read over the file while Chan shook his head at you. “You’re so… professional.”
You couldn’t help but snort at that. “Well, I have been trained for this and I’ve had clients before you, so I like to think that I’m pretty good at it.”
Chan smiled widely at you, showing off his dimples. “You are pretty good.”
You pursed your lips and turned to Felix. “So, anything stick out to you?”
A crease formed between his eyebrows and his fingers clenched slightly around the paper. “Well, I guess all this is true. I like to keep my nests very private. But, there’s a big difference between Hyunjin and I when we nest. That’s one of the benefits to us not having synchronized heats anymore.”
You tilted your head. “Anymore? You used to be synchronized and now you aren’t? What happened?”
Felix bit his lip and glanced at Chan. The alpha raised his hand and started to pet Felix’s back soothingly.
“When Hyunjin had his hiatus, I sort of… went into a surprise heat? A bad one. The doctors say it was basically halfway between a normal heat and an omega drop. So, that wasn’t fun. And Hyunjin’s occurred as scheduled, a couple weeks later. Then the company decided that it was easier to have just one omega in heat at a time. That way one of us can still do individual schedules and it’s easier for the others to take care of us when they’re only taking care of one omega. Plus, we discovered that it’s good to have a grounded omega taking care of an omega in heat.”
You nodded and wrote a few things in your notebook so you wouldn’t forget. “And do you like having separate heats?”
Felix frowned like he was uncertain about how to answer. “I… understand the reason why we have them separately. And I like getting to take care of Hyunjin properly during his heat.” He smiled tentatively. “Honestly, the best thing about separate heats is the nests.”
“Ah, the nests!” Chan giggled.
You couldn’t help smiling in response to their behavior. “What’s this about the nests?”
Felix shifted, rubbing his hands over his thighs repeatedly. “Well, Hyunjin and I don’t fight a lot. Not real fights, anyway, just little arguments. But when it comes to nest building and who is allowed in and where we build it…” His eyes widened like he was telling a ghost story around a campfire. “It’s not pretty.”
“That’s sort of ironic, given that’s it’s the two of you involved.” Chan smirked, brushing a strand of Felix’s hair behind his ear.
Said ear then reddened as Felix’s jaw dropped. “Hyung!”
“What?” Chan asked, a little too innocently.
Felix pursed his lips together and glared playfully at Chan until the alpha poked him in the ribs. “Pay attention, Lix. This is important.”
Felix sputtered back at him. “Wha- me? Hyung, you’re the one who- you pay attention!”
Chan snickered and Felix pouted as they both turned back to you.
You forced yourself to hold back a laugh at their contrasting expressions. “So, tell me more about the differences in your nests.”
Chan smiled at Felix fondly. “Well, for Lixie it’s basically all or nothing, but Jinnie is very particular.”
Felix nodded along. “Yeah, it’s sort of funny. I don’t even like people looking at my nest unless they have explicit permission, but once they get in it, I don’t really care where they sit or if they change the nest. Hyunjin, though,” The corners of his lips twitched. “He likes nesting in common spaces and anyone can go in and out as they please, basically. But, if you move a blanket or a pillow, he gets pretty offended. I still have nightmares about the last time that happened.��� He said with a shudder.
Chan closed his eyes and smiled ruefully. “Ah, poor Jisungie. It wasn’t his fault that he tripped when Seungmin grabbed his ankle. It wasn’t even Seungmin’s fault since he was asleep when he grabbed him.” He slid his hands up to cover his face. “That was the worst fight they’ve ever had since they got over that whole ‘dance better, rap better’ thing.”
The corners of Felix’s lips twitched upwards like he was trying to hide a smile. “Even though the nest fight was almost completely one-sided.”
“Hyunjin was angry enough for the both of them.”
“He was angry enough for the eight of us! Do you remember what he did when we tried to defend Jisung?”
“I wish I could forget.”
You didn’t know exactly what they were talking about, but your imagination filled in the gaps of their story and you laughed along with them.
The three of you finally calmed down and you were able to return to the topic.
“So, Felix, you’ve told me you understand the reason you and Hyunjin have different heats, but do you actually prefer it or would you like to try and get in synch again?”
He glanced between you and Chan like he was uncertain. “I’m not really sure. I don’t think I have a preference, and if the company thinks separate heats are better, I’m fine with that.”
You nodded and jotted that down in your notebook. Then, you closed it and set it to the side. “Alright, I think it’s time we address another heat topic.”
“So.” You clapped your hands together and brought them down to rest on the table. “Sex.”
Felix’s jaw dropped as Chan choked. “What?” They gasped, almost exactly in unison.
You shrugged back at them. “Look, I know it can be a bit of an uncomfortable topic, and I know that especially with your career, you’re essentially taught to avoid any discussion of sexuality, but it is pretty important that we can talk about your sex lives comfortably, for you two and all of your members.”
Chan was the first to collect himself, though his ears still blazed. “Alright. What do you need to know?”
You met his gaze calmly and pushed out soothing hormones. “How would you characterize the relationship between everyone in your pack?”
He glanced at Felix before meeting your eyes again. “We’re all in a romantic polyamorous relationship.”
You nodded as more questions filled your brain. “Is everyone in your group dating all seven other members?”
“Yes.”
“Are you all exclusive or does anyone have a relationship with someone outside of the group, either romantically or sexually?”
This time Felix piped up. “No, we’re all exclusive.”
“Okay.” You paused. “This is where it might get even more personal. If anything is too uncomfortable or if you don’t want me to know something, just say so and I’ll back off.”
Chan’s eyes widened. “Really?” His eucalyptus scent sharpened in surprise.
“Yeah, really.” You flashed an amused smile at him. “If you’re uncomfortable around me, that sort of defeats the purpose of having a caretaker, doesn’t it?”
“Huh, I guess it does.” Chan said, a smile forming on his face to match yours. “Ask away, then.”
You took a deep breath and got a heavy dose of eucalyptus scent. It calmed you instantly, the tension in your muscles fading away until it felt like you, Felix, and Chan had known each other for all your lives.
Get it together, you told yourself.
“Do you all have sex with each other?”
They both nodded stiffly in response.
“Alright. And you help each other through your heats and ruts in that way?”
“Yes.”
“Yep.”
You nodded and reached out to Felix, patting his hand gently. He grabbed your hand and began to massage your palm. “Okay, now the questions are going to be a little more focused towards you, “‘“baby”’”. Is that okay?”
He bit his lip and squeezed your hand. “Yeah, noona, I’m good.”
You smiled at him and pulled your notebook over, flipping to the page where you had written your checklist.
“Okay, so since we’re already talking about it, let’s just get it out of the way. How do you like your members to take care of you sexually during your heat? Do you like one person at a time or multiple people? Is sex your main priority when you’re in heat?”
Felix’s fingers twitched against yours and Chan reached over to rub his back. “Well, it really depends on the individual heat. I like having sex during my heat, but mostly I just want to stay close to my pack whether that’s sex or just cuddling. I don’t like being alone much and I really feel like the more the merrier, again, whether it’s sex or cuddling.”
You stroked your thumbs over his hand. “Good job explaining that to me, “‘“baby”’”.”
He blinked at you before ducking his head. “Really? Thank you.”
“Of course. Now, what does your preheat and postheat look like?”
Chan interjected. “Wait, postheat? What’s that? I thought that as soon as the heat was over, that’s it.”
You hummed thoughtfully. It wasn’t unusual that he wouldn’t know about postheat. Most omegas didn’t even know about it. “Postheat is when the heat is over, most omegas like to do a day or two of selfcare to allow their bodies and minds to get back to normal. It’s a bit overlooked, even by some omegas, especially the ones who are anxious to get back to the other parts of their lives. However, making sure your omega is happy during postheat is the best way to avoid omega drop.”
Chan’s eyes widened as he glanced between you and Felix. “Really? Oh, shit, I feel really bad about not knowing this.”
Felix shook his head and turned his face to Chan. “Hyung, you always take care of me and Jinnie even if you didn’t know. It’s not like you abandoned us once our actual heat was over. Also, I didn’t even know about postheat.”
You nodded along with Felix’s words. “Yeah, Chan, I only know because of my caretaking education. But you don’t really seem like the type of alpha to just leave your vulnerable omega to go get a coffee or something. Also, if you want, I can send you some academic articles on the best things to do during postheat and the things to avoid.”
He smiled shyly. “Ah, thank you. That would be great.”
You turned back to Felix. “So, preheat, postheat, what do you like during that time?”
His eyebrows furrowed as he considered your question. “Well, I like to make a nest during my preheat instead of waiting until my actual heat. I eat a lot of sweets. I actually like to bake a bit before and then I eat those.”
Chan giggled. “A bit? You bake enough to feed an army!”
Felix raised one hand defensively, the other still clinging to yours. “Hey, I can’t help it! It’s my deep, dark omegan instincts telling me I have to provide food or my dumbass alphas will starve.”
Chan laughed even more at that. “You know we can just order food, right? Or go grocery shopping? Also, I love your food but we can’t survive on just brownies for a week.”
Felix grinned at that. “I know that in my head. But the rest of me doesn’t really care about all that. Anyway.” He turned back to you. “My postheat is basically just cuddles and bath time. And more eating.”
“That sounds like a great routine,” you commented.
He nodded, smile going a little smug. “It is pretty great.”
“Oh, shit,” Chan blurted, looking at his phone. “It’s almost time to meet the others in the studio.” He studied yours and Felix’s interlocked hands. “Are we ready to head up, or do you want to talk more? I can tell them to wait if we need to stay.”
You shook your head and released Felix’s hand to stuff your notebook back into your bag. “Nope, I’ve got all the good stuff. If I remember anything else, I’ll just ask. Unless either of you wanted to ask me something?”
They had both stood up, ready to head out, but they paused at your question. Then, Felix raised his hand tentatively. “Are you going to be there during my heat? Or do you just wait until it’s over and take care of the other members in the meantime?”
You took a breath, considering what to say. Unfortunately, Chan had already put on a scent blocker, so you could barely smell the eucalyptus and it didn’t have the same effect as last time. “Well, it’s mostly up to you. If you feel comfortable with me by then and want me in your dorm, then I can hang around and take care of you, but if you don’t want me around at all, I totally understand and won’t be offended. We don’t have to decide right now, especially since you might not even know what your omega will want until it’s your preheat or your actual heat. So, take your time and think about if you want me there or not.”
Felix nodded, smiling at you as you both put on your scent blockers.
“Alright!” Chan clapped. “Are you ready to see where the magic happens?”
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