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kamiversee · 1 month

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➶-͙˚ ༘✶ 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙁*𝘾𝙆 𝙇𝙄𝙎𝙏

✧.* CHAPTER 49 || The Things You Didn’t Know

[ { SYPNOSIS } ] ➤ A tale in which Gojo Satoru blackmails you into seducing a list of people to clear his debt. Sounds easy enough, right?

[ { CHAPTER CONTENT } ] ➤ language & semi-heavy angst.

[ { WORD COUNT } ] ➤ 5.1k

[ { PAIRINGS } ] ➤ jjk men x f!reader. gojo x f!reader. geto x f!reader. toji x f!reader. choso x f!reader. sukuna x f!reader. nanami x f!reader.

[ [ chapters mlist } ]

——YOUR HEART WAS racing against your chest as you hurried out of the cafe. Despite the stares you got from people given the recent outbursts, the only thing you focused on was catching up with Choso.

He couldn’t have gotten that far, right? God, you were so nervous. What if he didn’t want to hear you out? What if that’s all it took for him to hate you? What if he never talks to you again?

Did you fuck up? Should you have lied? Was this for the best? Shit, tears were blurring your vision as you ran outside and frantically searched the parking lot for any signs of Choso. If he was gone already would he ever answer a call or text from you again?

Fuck. You can’t do this. Anxiety, fear, and a profound rush of pure angst simply crashed over you.

“F-Fuck,” You breathed out heavily. You tried to stop your crying but the tears kept coming and you really couldn’t spot Choso anywhere, even his car nowhere to be found.

It was cloudy and there was this brisk breeze running over you, a distant ripple in the sky heard as the weather decided to match the vibe of everything that’s just occurred.

You swallowed down the lump in your throat and kept walking into the parking lot nonetheless, refusing to give up just yet. What were you even going to say if you found him? What is there to say-

“Why’d you… Why’d you follow me out here?” Choso’s voice hushed out from your left.

Your feet stumble into a halt and the way your head turned in that direction was instant, quickly laying your eyes on the man who was standing in front of his car door that was parked not too far away from where you stood. You must’ve missed it when you first looked that way due to your tears and distraught way of searching.

Your lips are quivering and your heart is simply beating against your chest, “C-Choso, I-“

The sight of Choso’s hand trembling catches your eyes, the key in his hand just barely held up against the door handle of his car. His other hand was balled into a fist and you couldn’t see his face because his hair had fallen into a mess after the way he rushed out of the cafe.

He’s breathing heavily, panting even, as a sudden dribble of water falls from his face. Was he… Was Choso crying?

“Choso?” You voice out softly. Your tone was shaky and almost sappy as you took careful steps toward him.

“Don’t,” He croaks out. You couldn’t tell if he was crying just yet but his voice was definitely trembling with emotion.

You pause in your steps, merely a few inches away from him. Swallowing you try your best to come up with something to say, “I-I’m sorry-“

Choso sucks in a deep breath of air and suddenly his keys slip out his hand, “Fuck-,” He sighs, bringing an arm up to his face and sniffling.

Despite him telling you not to come closer, you do so anyway, inching toward him before crouching down and picking his keys up. After which, you stand up straight and slide the keys into the pocket of his pants before forcing him to turn his body to you.

Then, you place a gentle hand on his arm and pull it away from his face, coming face to face with his flushed expression, saddened, hurt, and tired eyes, frowning lips, and ragged breathing as tears slip down his cheeks.

The water in your eyes just doubles as you get the full and raw view of Choso Kamo crying. Frowning and quick to take the blame, you squeak out a cracked, “M’sorry. S-Shit, Choso, I-“

He starts shaking his head but he doesn’t look away from you. Instead, Choso gazes down into your eyes and for the first time, his eyes are so very dull and just tired. It was as though everything he just learned had completely drained the usually vibrant brown shade that coated his irises.

He sighs shakily and steps closer to you, the tips of your feet touching one another as he just gazes down at you. Choso was confused, tired, hurt, and drained all at once.

You sniffle, “I’m s-sorry, Choso I-I didn’t-“

“Shut up…” He says. However, his voice is void of anything outside of hurt with hardly any strength or anger remaining. Choso then leans down to you and you try to back away a bit but his arms drape around your waist and he pulls you up against him, tipping his head to the side and nearing your face, “B-Baby,” He rasps out, tears still falling from his eyes.

You don’t even know what to feel right now, “Cho, p-please, I’m sorry. I didn’t know-“

“Stop apologizing,” Choso whispers, “S’not ‘ur fault…” He mumbles.

“B-But…” You stare into his eyes, “I…” You could hardly formulate your words properly, “W-Why’re you crying?”

“C-Cause’ you just…” His expression sinks and never before has Choso allowed himself to be this vulnerable in front of anyone, “T-There was the g-guy from before, then Geto, n-now… Now Sukuna a-and you don’t even know-,” He chokes on his words and squeezes his eyes shut, “Fuck, I c-can’t even… I can’t… I…”

He begins to lose his breath and falls into a state of hyperventilating. Choso’s eyes widen a bit and his breathing is panicked all over the place.

Your hands shoot up to his face and you tilt your head, “Choso, hey, Cho,” You call out softly. His eyes are frantic for a moment. “Heyyy look at me, look at my eyes, Cho.”

He does just barely.

You nod and grin, “T-That’s it, now take a deep breath for me,” You whisper.

He tries, inhaling sharply and then exhaling shakily.

“A bit slower than that, c’mon, you’re okay.” You tell him, wiping the tears from his warm face and keeping your voice calm and collected despite your own emotions being jumbled, “I’m right here, okay?”

He’s nodding, steadily controlling his breathing and blinking as he calms himself down. Swallowing, “I-I don’t what that w-was…” Choso huffs out, unsure of the surge of anxiety that ran through him.

“You had a minor panic attack,” You whisper, pulling his face to yours, “But it’s okay, I’m right here, alright?”

Choso moves his hands over yours and squeezes, “Baby…”

“Hm?” You hum, your mind discarding the fact that you just argued with this same man a moment ago.

It was like what happened with Gojo all over again. Yet, this felt different for some reason.

Choso’s voice is low and timid with you, “I’m s-sorry.”

“Sorry for what?” You hush out, “You didn’t do anything wrong, I-”

Your name is hushed out in an almost fractured tone and Choso removes his hands from yours, moving to hold your waist and pull you closer to him.

You drop whatever it is you were going to say at the sound of your name, “Yes?”

“C-Can you…” Choso hesitates, hating how he feels right now and disliking the fact that you have to see him in such a way, “Uhm…”

“Can I what?” You murmur, “What is it, Choso? Talk to me please.”

He leans down and his arms wrap around your waist, “C-Can you just hold me?”

Wasn’t he just upset with you moments ago? Was he not repulsed and maybe even disgusted by you for a second? Did you not fuck things up? Is he not angry with you-

“P-Please,” Choso begs, trying to hold back the rest of his emotions. Never has he felt so conflicted in his feelings before.

You end up nodding and raising your hands up, wrapping them around his neck and holding him tightly. Choso exhales heavily and he hugs your smaller frame tightly, burying his face into the crook of your neck and shutting his eyes.

You don’t know why he wants to hug you right now. You have no clue why he’s not screaming at you anymore when that’s the very thing you expected him to do.

Hell, the man just told you to leave him out of your drama, and yet here he is in your arms not even ten minutes later. You guess this was some kinda sign. Does this show the levels of how much Choso loves you or does this have something to do with his possessiveness?

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ .　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

What you didn’t know was that Choso needed to feel your warmth to center himself once again. You were unaware of the fact that he’d been so insanely tense for the past few hours. It was a build-up that led to his recent outburst.

All of which started about an hour and a half ago when Yuki first approached him. Choso was trying to draw as he stared out the large cafe window, his thoughts ironically on you since you inspire him to no end, before that annoying blonde approached him with that stupid smile on her face.

His mood soured from the second he made eye contact with her and it only worsened when she sat down across from him and started talking, blabbering about god knows what. Choso allowed most of what she said to go through one ear and out the other, only giving her these half-assed responses every now and then.

Then, to make things worse, Yuki started getting comfortable and despite Choso’s dismissive attitude, she sat there talking his ear off for what felt like forever, even going as far as getting herself food and really comforting herself. Sometime after that, you had called him and Choso’s mood lifted only a bit.

He was confused at first since you’re supposed to be taking a break from him but then as he realized he was with Yuki, he started to panic because he knew how this was going to seem to you. Even so, he answered because who is he to ignore a call from you?

And of course, there was your jealousy that came along as Yuki started pestering him during his phone call. Yuki’s intrusion irked Choso to no end but the sound of your voice in his ear, especially with you growing jealous, was able to help Choso calm himself. After all, he knew there was nothing you needed to be jealous over.

Then you told him that you were thinking about changing the status of your relationship with him and Choso was smiling from ear to ear. Just the thought of you coming to him and telling him you were finally ready for a relationship with him made his heart swell. It had meant that he’d won over whoever his competition was.

But of course, Yuki ruined that moment seconds later when she started talking again, to which Choso had taken a nearby water bottle and tossed some of it on her. You obviously didn’t know or see any of that since you were on the phone but Choso had been fed up with the blonde woman.

But, all of that only led to you sounding upset over the phone since he kept bickering with Yuki. This annoyed Choso even more because he was excited to see you and yet Yuki had ruined something that could've been rather sweet.

What you also don’t know is that once you are off the phone, Choso moderately curses Yuki out, telling her how she’s annoying and he wants her to leave. Of course, she didn’t go anywhere, and after more bickering Choso and her made a deal that Yuki would only be able to meet you and then leave.

As things played out, that’s not what happened but Choso wasn’t expecting that.

To make it all worse, Choso had gone to the bathroom after some time and when he came out he saw the cashier’s eyes not on your face in the slightest as your head had been angled up at the menu. You didn’t know it but Choso wasn’t lying when he said Ino was looking like he wanted to fuck you because it was so obvious.

He saw the way Ino ogled you, licked his lips, and then smiled before looking up to the menu as if he wasn’t just checking you out. This bothered Choso for many reasons.

For one, Choso knew he wasn’t your boyfriend so he couldn’t just come up to you and the cashier and call the guy out for his looks because that’d be him crossing boundaries. So instead, he did the only thing he could think of and approached you from behind, soon making direct eye contact with Ino and giving him the same death glare he gives anyone who checks you out.

You’ve scolded Choso about this look in the past but he couldn’t help himself. So that’s why he continued to stare Ino down before pressing himself up against you and placing his hands beside yours. In his mind, you may not have been his girlfriend but god dammit, he wasn’t going to allow anyone to look at you like that when he’s in the vicinity.

Hence the kisses to your neck, the claiming touches to your waist, and the threatening look in his eyes as he mentally dared Ino to look at you like that again.

But then, when you got bothered by Choso’s actions, it confused him. Could you not tell Ino was into you? Are you actually that unaware of how people, especially men, give such suggestive looks to you?

Choso didn’t understand it at all and knowing he was in no position to say something about it only ate him up inside.

But his mood was lifted for a moment as he then conversed with you. You didn’t know it but you really were the vibrance in this dull man’s life. His heart longed for you at every passing moment so when he noticed you disliked the idea of him being with someone else, even if it were just a friend, he couldn’t help but fall even harder.

It was like you wanted him all to yourself and he would give that to you at any given moment if you asked for it.

In Choso’s mind, he is yours. Whatever you need, he’ll go to any length to provide it for you. Whatever you want, he’ll see how he can get it for you. Choso is so devoted to you that sometimes he doesn’t even feel like his thoughts are his own.

At times, Choso feels as though every inch of his body simply operates under a blind gaze that's clouded with thoughts of you. While he wants nothing more than to be with you, he’s also okay with waiting. He’d do so devotedly until you flat out tell him not to and even then, deep down inside there’s a piece of his heart that’ll always run in your direction.

That being said, to have to reveal you to his ex Yuki who’s attracted to women, it was like he was putting you on the line. As if he were risking his relationship with you by simply revealing the way you look to Yuki.

Choso hated it but he was so damn insecure about losing you, which is exactly why he held onto you so tightly both when he showed you to Yuki and even now as he quietly weeps into you.

The grip he has on your shirt is relentless. He’s so damn terrified and upset right now.

Because after he revealed you to Yuki it all just got worse. Then she wanted to talk to you, she probably told you how she left him, and then fucking Geto Suguru showed up.

By then, just the simple sound of Heyy gorgeous almost made Choso snap. His eye had twitched and he felt like he was on the verge of losing his sanity. It was like what happened with Ino all over again but ten times worse because it was soon revealed that Geto is the man you told Choso you used to sleep with.

Which was one thing in itself but to see how Geto still looks at you just made Choso sick. It was like Geto was undressing you and fucking you with his eyes right in front of him and this dark emotion just swirled around in Choso’s heart.

Many times did Choso stare at the jawline of Geto Suguru, wondering to himself how fast he could reach over and connect his fist to the area without hurting you in any way since you were right next to him.

And to just add onto all of that because the list of emotions Choso just went through is long, the sound of Geto calling you a slut, albeit a way of him teasing you, made Choso lose his shit for a second.

No one at that table knew but Choso was contemplating some dark things the entire time. The flirting, the taunting, the fucking looks, it all made Choso so damn angry. It took every fiber of his being not to reach across the table and wipe that stupid smirk off Geto’s face.

Yet, that wasn’t his boiling point. He let a few things slip when he bickered with you but the second his brother was brought up, Choso just lost it.

He gave up on holding his tongue as he had been the entire conversation. As soon as you looked at him with those pretty eyes of yours, asking him what and who they were talking about, the mere thought of you and Sukuna ever crossing paths just made Choso nauseous.

He quickly got snappy and short-tempered after that, annoyed by how much you kept pushing the subject despite him wanting to move on. Then you had the nerve to tell him that you should know who his older brother is.

He couldn't believe you. Especially after you wouldn’t even tell him about the clear list of other guys you’ve been with? That’s all precisely why he says he felt as though he should know who else you’d been with.

But… to hear you respond to that by saying there’s a chance Sukuna could be one of those people…

Something deep within Choso just broke. He felt said emotion snap in half, the sensation raging through his body. It was his trust. He couldn’t think rationally anymore and both fear and pure anger ran throughout his body.

Everything had gone to shit and his brain was just being overloaded with information.

If it wasn’t enough that every single day Choso had to fear the possible call of you telling him you’d chosen the other guy over him, then he now had to add on the fact that you apparently sleep around. From Choso’s unknown competition to Geto, who he somewhat assumes is said competition, and then to hear about Sukuna?

He couldn’t think straight anymore. Horrid memories of the times he lived with his older sibling just flashed in his mind back to back, each one darker than the last.

Dating back to when Choso was younger and before Yuji was born… He remembered it all like some distorted nightmare. From being hit by Sukuna over the most minor mistake to being straight bullied by the man in the worst ways possible, Choso went through hell growing up with Sukuna.

For the sake of his other two brothers, he’d often take the blame and whatever unjust punishment followed just to protect his siblings. Which is even the story behind the tattoo going across the bridge of Choso’s nose.

You’ve asked him about it before but he never told you how there’s a scar beneath the tattoo that never went away and that’s why he has it in the first place. Of course, said scar was given to him by the asshole Sukuna himself.

And if all that wasn’t enough, what really topped it off was that after Yuji was born, Choso pleaded and begged that Sukuna not put the poor kid through what he endured.

For nothing more than his own amusement, Sukuna went ahead and promised he wouldn’t ever lay a hand on Yuji. Of course, this was only to build up hope in Choso’s heart because the promise was a lie and the things Sukuna had done to Yuji behind closed doors outweighed whatever hell he put Choso through.

This is the exact reason Choso has grown to hate both liars and Sukuna himself. Each time he goes and sees his little brother Yuji, there’s a new bruise on the poor boy’s skin and Choso is only able to do so much.

Genuinely, the only things that keep that man going are the bright smiles that Yuji gives him despite the abuse, knowing that unlike himself, Yuji stands up for himself even at his young age, and lastly, well, you. You make Choso forget about all the dark parts of his family life and essentially free him from it all.

So with all that being said, when you told Choso you had sex with Sukuna it simply broke him into pieces. Why was it that the one woman in which he decides to long for more than ever just so happens to have crossed paths with such a vile man?

He didn’t care that Sukuna was his older brother, he didn’t care that you even fucked him, what made him so angry was the person Sukuna truly is, how blind you were to it, and the possibility that Sukuna could’ve hurt you.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ .　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

As all of that replayed in Choso’s mind, his tight grasp on the fabric of your shirt came and went as he cried so quietly against your warm body.

The two of you were standing there hugging in silence for roughly twenty minutes. You simply rubbed the back of Choso’s head with one hand and the other caressed his back, allowing him to cry into you for as long as he needed to.

Well, that was up until you felt something wet make contact with the top of your head. It was faint at first so you didn't pay any mind to it. Then, another slip of water is felt, and another, and soon, you notice it’s drizzling.

Light rain makes contact with both you and Choso’s embraced bodies. You didn’t really want to move but the drizzle was steadily getting heavier and you soon shivered against Choso, to which he sniffled and came to with what was going on around him.

“Choso,” You whispered, feeling how he flinched at the sound of his name, “I-It’s raining…”

He doesn’t say anything for a minute, not moving a muscle and just stuck against you.

Then, when the rain picks up just a bit more, he shifts around and finally pries his arms off of you. He lifts his head from your shoulder and god the sight of him makes your heart crease inward.

Damn these men and being the most beautiful criers you’ve ever seen.

Due to the rain, Choso’s hair was getting wet and starting to stick to his forehead, the ends of the strands having this slight wave to them as they decorated his hairline. His eyes that were darkened with those heavy sleepless bags had tears streaming down from the corners and the male bats his soaked eyelashes as the rain falls onto both of you.

Before you could say or do anything else, Choso moved to take off his jacket and hold it over your head, shielding you from the water falling from the sky. Doing so, he remains close to you and takes another long moment taking in your expression.

You do the same, admiring how someone could be so attractive as they wept. Choso was such a beautiful man, someone whose face you think deserved to be drawn and painted the same way he once did yours.

In that moment, you wish you could read his mind and figure out just what he was thinking as he stood under the rain gazing down at you so intimately. Though he was upset and conflicted, Choso couldn’t even hide the love in his eyes.

Your name is uttered again after a long moment and Choso’s voice is deep but so very emotional.

You swallow and just barely tilt your head, “Yes?”

“I’m… I’m sorry,” Choso whispers, “B-But, I don’t think we should uh…”

You moved your hands to his shirt and your delicate fingers clung onto the man as a slight gust of wind blew over the two of you. Was this it? Was he about to say what you think he was?

It’s over, isn’t it? Choso’s about to say he doesn’t think you two should be together anymore right? You’ve fucked up.

There’s nothing you can do. He’s done with you. He’s about to tell you that he never wants to see you again and you don’t know what you could possibly say to change his mind.

Right? Of course, what else would he be about to say?

It’s over. You and Choso are over. Just like that-

He says your name again and you blink, tears dripping down your face unexpectedly as your own thoughts and anxiety overcome you. “I don’t think we s-should stay in the rain like this,” Choso murmurs, sighing, “You’ll get sick.”

You exhale shakily and squeeze your eyes shut, nodding your head in agreement and so beyond thankful he didn’t say what you thought he was about to.

He then carefully places his jacket on top of your head and puts an arm around you, moving to walk you over to the passenger side of his car. When you get there, you slip a hand into his pants pocket and pull out his keys, your fingers slipping over the item to unlock his car.

Doing so, you wonder why Choso didn’t do that earlier. Did he wait on purpose to give you a chance to catch up to him?

Once the car is unlocked Choso helps you get in and tries to make sure no more water makes contact with you, despite himself getting soaked in the process. He even moves to put your seatbelt on for you, regardless of his shaky hand and his backside getting wet from the rain.

You frown, “C-Choso you don’t have to-“

He pauses and looks at you, his tone completely soft and weak as he whispers, “Shut up.”

Your lips pull together and you swallow your words yet again. His face was so close to yours, the mixed smell of rain and his cologne filling your nose. Choso’s eyes narrow as they stare into your own and you can’t even read his expression so you genuinely have no idea what’s going on in his mind right now.

Maintaining eye contact with you, the sound of your seat belt clicking is heard before Choso moves. His hand goes to your face and despite the shakiness of his fingers, he gently places them on your jaw.

Choso moves your head around a bit like he’s inspecting you before he stops and his thumb shifts upward. It swipes over your lips slowly and he stares for a while. Knowing that Sukuna has probably felt these same lips of yours bothers him to no end.

And to make it worse, Choso blames himself because maybe if he opened up to you sooner he could’ve prevented it somehow? Even though he doesn’t know when you slept with Sukuna.

Choso’s thumb taps your bottom lip three times before he opens his mouth. You wish he’d get out of the rain already but he seems so immersed in whatever he’s doing. Whispering your name again, “Has he ever hurt you?” Choso asks carefully.

You shake your head no instead of making your answer vocal in courtesy of recently being told to shut up. Were you that worried that if you didn’t listen to Choso he’d slip away from you? So much so that you couldn’t even speak unless told to?

“Say it,” Choso hums, “Needa’ hear you say it, baby.”

“N-No,” You reply.

“No, what? Please answer my question fully,” He instructs, his voice calmer and a bit dry due to his recent emotional outburst. You open your mouth to do so but he cuts you off, “I just need to be sure, okay?”

Nodding, “No, Sukuna has never hurt me.” You answer completely.

Choso releases a relieved exhale and shuts his eyes, “Okay… T-Thank fuck,” He whispers finally before taking his hand off your face.

He starts to pull away but you grab his hand for some reason. Choso freezes, not at all caring about the rain soaking him and his clothes as your hand grabs his own.

You’re looking up at him unsure of what should be said outside of a simple and heartfelt, “I’m sorry.”

Choso’s brows tense as if he didn’t want to hear you say that but he pulls your hand to his face and leans down again. He kisses the back of your hand, his lips pressing against your skin so long that it seems like he doesn't want to move away from the motion.

“Thank you for that, princess,” Choso says to you, his eyes meeting yours yet again, “But, you don’t need to apologize. We uh…” He swallows, “We’re gonna’ talk this all out, yeah?”

You’re nodding before even mentally rendering his words, “Y-Yeah.”

A small smile, one that barely even shows and seems to lack emotion, spreads across Choso’s face, “A-And uh… No matter what you tell me,” He gulps, wondering if he’ll later regret these words, “I’ll still love you.”

Your heart just swells so much to the point that it begins to hurt your chest. Does he know what he’s about to get into? Does he understand the gravity of what he just said to you?

“As long as it’s the truth,” He adds just in case.

You nod again, “Right.”

“Promise?” Choso asks.

“Mhm, I promise,” You hush out.

He sighs, releases your hand, and finally stands up straight, moving to shut the car door and make his way to the driver's side. Once he does and situates himself in his vehicle, his body is pretty soaked and he’s quick to turn his car on along with the heat.

The two of you were about to be in here for a while.

So many truths were getting ready to reveal themselves.

Does that include details of the list?

…

You had no idea.

GOJO SATORU ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮

GETO SUGURU ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮

TOJI FUSHIGURO ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙈𝙚𝙙𝙞𝙪𝙢

KAMO CHOSO ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙎𝙚𝙢𝙞-𝙈𝙚𝙙𝙞𝙪𝙢 / 𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮

ZEN'IN NAOYA ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙀𝙭𝙩𝙧𝙚𝙢𝙚𝙡𝙮 𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮

ITADORI SUKUNA ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙎𝙚𝙢𝙞-𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮???

NANAMI KENTO ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙃𝙖𝙧𝙙

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going-to-ikea-for-the-fries · 2 months

Text

It's a Match! || 141 x Reader

[ Chapter 10 ] || [ Chapter 12 ]

Pairing: 141 x gn!Reader Words: 1.1K~ Summary: While overcoming recent heartbreak, you decide to join Tinder in search of a rebound. Your friends advise to just Swipe Right indiscriminately... What happens when 4 soldiers from the same squad match with you? a/n: i'm in love with gaz

Chapter 11: Excuse me?

A DM suddenly shoots up to the top of the pile in Kyle’s Tinder DM list and his eyebrows raise when he sees your name.

It’s been a month and a half, maybe longer, since you two last matched and after the brief rejection and you having gotten with Price, his life moved on and he kind of forgot you existed.

But your sudden message whose preview starts with “hey sorry to be botheri-” intrigues him so he presses it.

you: hey sorry to be bothering u but i figured it was safe to dm u about this because between u and johnny u seemed to be the most mature one! is simon okay? he stopped replying to me like a week ago and im concerned

Kyle’s eyebrows shot up on his forehead upon reading the question.

Kyle: he’s been texting u? 🤨 you: HI! yeah he has Kyle: excuse me? 🤨🤨 Kyle: like texting texting u. Kyle: as in you text him and he answers and u 2 chat? 😐 you: yes? 🙃 Kyle: tf kind of witchcraft did u pull on him? 🤨 Kyle: he doesnt text. Kyle: not one of us can get more than a thumbs up reaction to our texts in the groupchat. 😑 you: he texts me! Kyle: 😫?? Kyle: jesus christ. you: you didnt answer is he okay?? 😭😭

Kyle thought back on a reason why Ghost would suddenly, well, ghost you. But he can’t think of any… Ghost is a notoriously bad texter, it doesn’t surprise him that he went MIA…

And then it hits him.

It’s 8 A.M. in the rec room of their floor and Ghost was making tea just as Johnny was taking a seat in the couch.

Kyle oofed as Johnny hit him, throwing his legs over Kyle’s lap. “Watch it mate, fuck you’re bloody heavy!” He complained.

“AH, FUCKIN’ HELL!” Ghost cursed as he threw his hands up in the air the sound of water dripping on the floor catching his attention.

Kyle looked over to see Ghost had spilled his boiling hot water everywhere on the counter.

“You alright L.T.?” Soap asked a she lifted his head over the back of the couch to peer at Simon just like Gaz was.

“Great.” Ghost grunted as he picked up his phone from the counter, which was also dripping in water, while his other hand threw a rag onto the mess of water dripping down from the counter.

“Oh fuck… ‘s your phone dead?” Soap asked and Ghost grumbled under his breath, not quite answering the question, as he busied himself soaking up the spilled water.

Just then, Price showed up at the rec room door. “Simon, gear up. Got a briefing for a solo mission in 10.”

“Fuckin’ hell, yeah, yeah, I got it.” Ghost grunted as he cleaned the mess and then rushed out the door, leaving his mug of tea in the counter and clutching his now broken phone in his hands.

Kyle: hes fine. Kyle: he spilled water on his phone and killed it I think. Kyle: and he got sent out before he could get it fixed. 🙃 you: oh okay good! you: thanks! you: sorry to have bothered you! 🙏 Kyle: now wait just a minute. 😤 Kyle: u need to explain how in the hell u and ghost talk.👀 you: ghost? Kyle: that’s his work name. 🤷‍♂️ you: fitting seeing as i thought he ghosted me Kyle: THAT’S THE JOKE I MADE JUST NOW TO MYSELF! 😭 you: were in sync it seems 😭 Kyle: answer the question tho. you: idk what u want me to answer with Kyle: wdym u dont know??? explain yourself. Kyle: how do you get ghost to text u???? you: idk? im funny ig Kyle: 😑 you: im sorry if thats not what u want to hear Kyle: wait Kyle: a couple weeks ago he was out all night Kyle: during morning training soap was talking about how he had a date Kyle: was he with u? 👀👀 you: soap? Kyle: johnny. Kyle: keep up cmon now. you: jeez don’t patronize me you: yes simon was with me Kyle: 👀👀👀 Kyle: i see. Kyle: tell me more. you: theres nothing to tell Kyle: thats a lie and u know it. you: its not!!! Kyle: cmon. Kyle: u cant just meet with a bloke with a skull mask on and then say u dont have anything to tell. 😑😑 you: a skull mask?? Kyle: did he not wear a mask when he was with u? 🤨🤨 you: yes? you: a black one Kyle: with a skull print on it yeah? you: no??? 🙃 you: just black! Kyle: jesus christ. Kyle: and what? what happened? you: nothing?! Kyle: walk me thru it. you: we went out for a drink then came back to mine and watched a movie! Kyle: 🤨🤨 Kyle: and had a shag? you: NO???? Kyle: wdym no? thats what would normally happen with a bloke. you: and???? you: this is simon were talking about kyle you: nothing about him screams normal exactly 🙃 you: hes joked about being able to kill me with his bar ehands you: bare hands* Kyle: fair. Kyle: this raises more questions for me. you: what Kyle: like u would meet with a masked bloke that can kill u with his bare hands alone without protection? 🤨 you: i had protection Kyle: not a condom. you: oh 😅 you: well we met at a pub soooo Kyle: what did u 2 do then Kyle: other than watch a ‘movie’ 🙄 you: played mario kart you: slept Kyle: as in Kyle: you SLEPT? like honk shoo honk mimimimi? you: yes🙄🙄 Kyle: im confused. you: ur confused? im fucking confused bro Kyle: wdym u SLEPT TOGETHER? 🙃 Kyle: WHAT KIND OF WITCHCRAFT IS THIS? Kyle: wtf have u done to him Kyle: like ghost doesnt text, he sure as shit doesnt visit people, and he doesnt go on dates, he doesnt sleep next to people, im almost sure the man doesnt have feelings or emotions and only speaks in sarcasm Kyle: how can u get that out of him?? 🤨🤨 Kyle: no one else can! you: well with that mentality you cant you: idk what to tell u you: we hit it off 🙄 Kyle: explain yourself. you: ive been explaining it!!!!! Kyle: no explain it better. Kyle: I think Im having a stroke. you: idk how to make it clearer??? Kyle: thats it. Kyle: are you free rn?? Kyle: I need u to explain urself. 😑 you: Im at work? Kyle: whens ur lunch break? 👀 you: in 35 minutes. Kyle: do u like ramen? you: yes? Kyle: whats the closest japanese to ur job? you: Akira Kyle: meet me at Akira for lunch. Kyle: I’m buying. you: who said i want to meet up with u?? 🤨🤨 Kyle: man just get down there. Kyle: im offering to pay. you: fineeeee 🙄

Kyle quickly hopped up from his seat at his desk with a start and rushed back to his room to change out of his fatigues.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

taglist (CLOSED! not adding anyone else, sorry!): @daisychainsinknots , @bunnysdaydreams , @iite-cool , @lahniu , @pagesfalling , @tapioca-milktea1978 , @live-love-be-unique , @thelaisydazy , @littleghosthunter , @bossva , @emotion-no-hot-yes-hotel-trivago , @chamomiletealeaf , @ghosts-hoe , @kariiiel , @ltbarnes , @irregulardongyoung , @spacelia , @hayleybarnesx , @infpt-zylith , @xxshadowbabexx , @frescoisnotinthemilitary , @leeeenistop , @lucienbarkbark , @zombie-freak , @wittleespur

@severenswife , @enarien, @agoodmoviekiss , @l0lziez , @whos-fran , @greatstormcat , @openup-yourmind , @neoarchipelago , @sodavrr , @cutiecusp , @lilliumrorum , @c-nstantine , @kneelforloki , @comeonatmebruh , @codsunshine , @waiting-so-long , @captainquake42 , @gazspookiebear , @mynameismisty , @reap3erslov3 , @reaper-chan666 , @poohkie90 , @kitwithnokat , @stick-the-dumbass , @mothsdrabbles , @justanerd1 , @thesinsoflust , @thriving-n-jiving , @blckbrrybasket

#ikea writes 💚#it's a match! fic #cod modern warfare #cod fanfic #captain john price #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #simon ghost riley #text story #cod x reader #call of duty x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #gaz x reader

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punkshort · 2 months

Text

somewhere to run | 12. the trial pt.1

Pairing: sheriff!Joel x f!reader

Chapter Summary: Madeline preps you for the first day of the trial and shares a surprise witness being called to Patrick's defense, and Patrick requests to speak to you unexpectedly.

Chapter Warnings: language, smut (MDNI 18+), phone sex, m and f masturbation, dirty talk, mother issues (could be perceived as parental emotional abuse, and probably is), possessive!joel, recounting of previous DV and SA

WC: 7.2K

A/N: If anything in this chapter jumps out as you like 'I don't think that's how the law works', just move past it. I had Google and a dream.

Series Masterlist

The flickering florescent lights from the grocery store were starting to give you a headache as you slowly made your way up and down the aisles, occasionally stopping to grab a bag of chips or some mac and cheese. It was late. The store was quiet. You were supposed to be buying things to keep in your hotel room when you got to Austin, but you could hardly focus. You had the weekend to pack, buy supplies, and check into your room before meeting with Madeline on Monday. She was planning on using most of the day to prepare you for the trial, which was scheduled to start first thing Tuesday morning, and your nerves were a mess. And to make matters worse, Joel wouldn't be able to get to Austin until the morning of the trial.

The one silver lining was your divorce. Madeline felt confident after speaking to his lawyer that Patrick would be signing the papers this week. The cynical part of you wondered if there was a catch because Patrick was never one to take things lying down, but you tried to push it out of your mind. Instead, you focused on the variety of microwavable popcorn in front of you. Butter, lightly salted, movie theater... would you even notice much of a difference? You stepped forward to grab the first box you saw when another person unexpectedly walked right into you. You had been so lost in your own thoughts, you didn't even hear someone else coming down the aisle.

"Oh, I'm so sorry," you began. When you looked up to meet their eyes, the polite smile you had forced across your face immediately fell.

"Nikki, hi," you said, taking a small step back towards your cart. "My fault, I wasn't paying attention."

She tossed you a thin smile and not so subtly eyed you up and down.

"Haven't seen you in a while. Read anything good recently?" she asked icily, and you had to fight the urge to roll your eyes.

"Not really. I haven't had much time," you told her, averting your gaze down the empty aisle.

"Oh, that's right. I heard you're getting a divorce," she said with a little pout, and you nodded as the heat began to creep up your chest. "Gotta make sure all those papers are signed before you go jumping into someone else's bed, right?"

"Excuse me?" you sputtered, lips parting in surprise. You thought she would have been a little more subtle than that.

"I hope you at least made sure he was worth it before leaving your husband for him, because woman to woman, I gotta warn you... it's nothing to write home about," she told you with a wink. You frowned and took another step back.

"I'm not leaving my husband because of Joel-"

"Oh, no, of course not!" she said cheerily.

"N-no, really, nothing's going on-"

"Don't worry, your secret's safe with me," she whispered, giving you one more fake smile before turning on her heel and waltzing down the aisle, leaving you in shock.

"Jesus Christ," you muttered to yourself as you absentmindedly rubbed your eyes. Angrily, you reached out and snatched the box of popcorn before turning your cart in the opposite direction.

You hated the idea of someone in this small town having it out for you. She had been swaying the entire female population to turn on you just because she went on a couple dates with Joel and she figured out he had feelings for you, which was hardly your fault. But you thanked your lucky stars she didn't seem to know just how close you and Joel really were, because if she did, there was no doubt in your mind she would have spread that news like wildfire.

Impulsivity won and you swung your cart down the candy aisle, throwing far too many items into your basket.

To hell with Nikki. She had no idea what you were going through and you didn't have time for her high-school bullshit, so you forced yourself to move past it. Besides, you had much more important things to worry about. Like if you should buy Reese's or Snickers.

"I hate all my clothes."

"C'mon, they can't be that bad," Joel's voice filtered through your phone. You tapped the speakerphone button and dropped it onto your bed in order to free up both your hands, then held up two ugly blouses against your chest while you looked in the mirror.

"They really are," you told him, scrunching up your nose. "But Madeline told me if I wore stuff like this, it would look more sympathetic to a jury. Like I'm some poor, modest housewife in need of saving," you said with a roll of your eyes.

"Well, if Maddy told you to wear somethin' specific, you should listen to her. She knows what she's doin'. I've known her a long time, this isn't her first rodeo."

"Yeah, yeah, I know," you grumbled, picking up a couple of skirts that, in your opinion, were far too long and didn't make you feel very confident.

"You look beautiful in anything," he said, his voice dropping an octave lower.

"Thanks, but you're biased," you teased, and you heard a soft chuckle float through the speaker.

"Yeah, maybe," he agreed. There was a small pause as you continued to sift through your clothes, then he asked, "are you tryin' anythin' on right now?"

"No, once at the store was plenty," you huffed, then began folding the skirts up to place them in the bottom of your suitcase.

There was another pause before he spoke again.

"Then what are you wearin'?"

Your hands stilled and you sucked in a breath when you finally realized what he had been hinting at the past few minutes. Glancing down, you grimaced at your favorite pair of stained sweatpants and a tank top that had fraying straps, but you refused to throw it away because it made you feel skinny.

"A tank top," you finally answered, leaving out the part about your ratty old sweatpants.

"Mm, the white one?"

"Yes," you replied, your pulse already thrumming steadily in your throat at the line of questioning.

"Wish I was there with you," he said, his voice low just in case Sarah could hear from her bedroom. "I can see right through that top, drives me fuckin' crazy."

Glancing in the mirror, you realized he was right. You could see the outline of your nipples clear as day in the right lighting.

"Joel, is this a good idea?" you asked, but found yourself flopping down on your bed anyway next to your phone, your fingers dancing at your waistband.

"You're stressed, right?" he asked, his voice a little breathless now and you knew he must have been stroking himself. You've done this dance too many times.

"Yes," you whispered.

"Lemme help you relax, then."

You chewed on your lower lip as you stared up at your ceiling. You knew doing this with him complicated things and you were supposed to be able to take the stand in a few days and honestly say you weren't in a relationship with Joel, but the lines were too blurred and at this point, you had no idea how you would answer that question.

Then again, what difference would one more time make?

"Okay."

"Good girl," he murmured, and you felt yourself flutter at the praise. "Where are you right now?"

"I'm laying in bed," you told him, closing your eyes so you could focus just on his voice.

"And are you touchin' yourself?"

"No," you said, taking a deep breath. "But I want to." You heard him utter a soft groan.

"Go ahead. Just one finger and I want you to tell me how wet you are."

Slipping your hand under your waistband, you did as you were told, choosing the tip of your middle finger to slide through your folds and prod gently at your entrance.

"So wet," you murmured, then teased yourself again, collecting the arousal pooling there. "All wet because of you, Joel," you added breathily.

"Fuck, I wish I was there," he whispered again, and you slowly pushed your middle finger inside with a moan.

"W-what would you do?" you stammered as you felt the tension begin to build, a warm heat sparking low in your belly.

"I'd taste you first," he said lowly. "Only got to do it once, been dreamin' of doin' it again. You taste so fuckin' good, d'ya know that?" His accent deepened the more aroused he became, and it made your heart skip a beat.

"You're really good at it," you mumbled into the phone, your finger curling inside you, that one spot just out of reach.

"Tell me how much you liked it," he rasped, and a little groan slipped past your lips, your finger still pumping in and out.

"Loved it," you moaned, and you heard his heavy breathing now as he listened to you intently. "F-felt so good. God, that tongue... my thighs burned the next day from your beard. Felt it all night at work... thought about you s-so much. Fuck, Joel, I need more," you whined, your back arching pathetically.

"Add another finger and play with your clit, baby," he whispered, and you thought you could hear him fucking his fist on the other end, but his heavy pants drowned out the noise. You did as he said, gasping in relief at the extra stimulation while your legs began to shake.

"Joel-" you whimpered, but he cut you off.

"When this is all over, I'm gonna wake you up every mornin' with my mouth between your legs," he said with a grunt. "Would'ya like that? Hm? You want my tongue inside that tight little pussy? Want me to suck on your clit til you can't remember your name?"

"Oh, fuck, Joel, I-I think I'm gonna come," you cried out softly, tears pricking the corners of your eyes as your finger rubbed fast little circles over your clit, your hips rocking against the heel of your hand as you chased your release.

"Go ahead, lemme hear you. Say my name, baby," he panted, his voice cracking, and you knew he was close. "Tell me - shit - tell me I'm the only man who's ever made you come."

And you did just that.

You fell over the edge, his name tumbling from your mouth over and over as you soaked your own hand, and once you got your bearings, you moaned about how good he made you feel, how no one else could ever compare, how you couldn't wait until he was in your bed again because your own fingers no longer satisfied you now that you've had him. You kept talking until you heard a sharp intake of breath and a low, muffled groan on the other end of the line, leaving each of you quietly panting for air.

"Feel better?" he asked after a few minutes, and even though he couldn't see you, you smirked.

"Yes," you whispered. You could hear him shifting around in his bed, his sheets bunching up and the springs on his mattress squeaked. "I miss you," you added sadly, thinking about the one night you got to sleep in his bed. How comfortable you felt. How at ease it made you feel, and he wasn't even in the bed with you. Just being around him was all it took.

"Me, too. We're so close, baby. Just a few more days. A week, tops."

His words instilled a newfound vigor in you. The fear and anxiety you felt about the trial temporarily disappeared and instead, you felt powerful. In charge. Confident. And eager to take your life back.

Monday

"Have you heard from any of the other women?" you asked Madeline hopefully, and she gave you a quick shake of her head.

"Not yet. I'm sorry," she replied, knowing you were all crossing your fingers that some of the women Joel talked to in Philadelphia would change their minds and come forward, but as hard as he tried to convince them, they were all too scared to say something, putting you back at square one. He had high hopes for one girl in particular, Nina, but so far she had refused to answer his or Madeline's calls and time was running out. "Don't worry, hun. We still have all the evidence on our side. We have the medical records, I can prove years of abuse with that and testimony from the people you put us in contact with. I am confident we will win, regardless of the other victims," she told you, looking you dead in the eye, and you believed her.

"Okay," you replied, taking a deep breath and nodding your head. "And again, I'm sorry I couldn't get anywhere with my mom. Do you think we'll still do okay without her?"

Madeline sat back in her chair and slid her glasses off, holding them gently in her hands while giving you a look across her desk that made your stomach twist.

She had bad news.

"We would do just fine without her, but I found out this morning that she was subpoenaed by the defense."

You stared at her, not quite understanding what you were hearing.

"What does that mean?" you finally asked, and although you had an idea, you needed her to say it.

"She agreed to speak on Patrick's behalf."

Tears sprung up in your eyes but you quickly wiped them away, refusing to allow your mother to cause you any more pain. Before you could say anything, Madeline spoke up again.

"Don't let it upset you. They might think they're making a power move, but I'll destroy her on the stand, mark my words. It will only help our case and paint the picture of a lifetime of abuse," she told you, putting her glasses back on before looking back down at the file in front of her. You hadn't ever considered your relationship with your mother as abusive before. You just assumed most girls had problems with their mothers growing up. But if she was willing to help your husband over her own daughter, essentially supporting everything Patrick has done to you, then 'abusive' was really the only word you could use at that point to describe your relationship.

"Okay, what else," you asked hurriedly, looking down at your hands folded on your lap.

"Well since we are already on the shitty news portion of the day, I do have one more thing I need to mention, and before I tell you, just know you can do absolutely whatever you want, okay? Do not feel pressured to go through with it-"

"Just say it," you told her, and she took a brief pause before continuing.

"Patrick asked to speak to you before the trial. He's holding the divorce papers as a hostage. Says he will sign them if you speak to him."

Your eyes shot up to meet hers in shock.

That was not something you were expecting to hear.

"W-why would he want to talk to me?" you stammered, and you could feel your heart beginning to pound louder in your chest, the fear and anxiety quickly taking hold yet again, just like it always did when it came to Patrick.

"My guess? He probably wants to convince you to drop the charges in exchange for a divorce. And that is something we are not going to do, understand me?" Madeline said, narrowing her eyes at you. "If my hunch is correct, he's scared. He knows he's going to lose and he is desperate. We do not need him to play nice here. I can get a judge to grant an annulment if he won't sign, it will just prolong everything a little more, but the end result will be the same."

The idea of your divorce taking even longer made your blood boil. You wanted to be with Joel. You wanted this to be over. It was only supposed to be a few more days... a week, tops.

Madeline could tell you were spiraling because she put her pen down and stood up from her chair.

"You don't have to talk to him. You are under no obligation to hear him out. We can just go through with everything the way we planned-"

"I'll talk to him," you said quietly.

"I have to give you my honest opinion here. I don't think it's a good idea."

"I'm not going to drop the charges, but... I don't know. Maybe I can convince him this is over. And if not, I'll just get up and leave," you told her firmly, and she examined you carefully before sighing.

"Alright. I'll contact his attorney and set something up in the morning. If you change your mind, you let me know. Night or day, five minutes before you walk into that room, it doesn't matter, okay? You don't have to do this."

"I know," you said, "I want to."

Madeline spent the rest of the day briefing you on what to expect for the trial. After opening statements, Madeline would argue your case with the evidence she collected and the witnesses she subpoenaed, then Patrick's lawyer would have the opportunity to cross examine and afterwards, it would be their turn to defend Patrick with their own witnesses before closing statements and deliberation. Madeline guessed the whole thing would take two or three days at the most, and that gave you some relief. No matter what happened, this would be over by the end of the week.

"I'll call you to the stand last," Madeline said. "It's best if your testimony is freshest for the jury, especially right before the defense states their case."

"Okay. And what do I do when I'm up there? Should I look at the jury or the judge, or just you?"

"Look wherever you feel comfortable, but don't offer any extra information outside of the question being asked. We'll rehearse the questions I'm going to ask before you leave today, and when it comes time for the defense to cross examine, give as little information as possible. Yes or no answers. And they'll try to get you upset - don't let them. That's important, okay?"

"Yes," you said with a nod. "I understand."

After you ran through the questions, Madeline sent you back to your hotel room with the list for you to review and practice on your own, but your head was pounding by the end of the day. Your eyes burned and your mind was racing and all you wanted to do was sleep, but your body wouldn't let you. You ended up pacing around your room and trying not to let your anxiety about seeing Patrick in the morning torment you. You had just found a mindless cooking competition show to put on to help distract you when your phone pinged next to you on the nightstand.

Joel: All ready for tomorrow?

You: I think so, but I'm nervous. Can't sleep.

Pausing for a moment, you added another text.

You: I'm meeting with Patrick in the morning before it starts.

It took less than two minutes for your phone to ring.

"What d'you mean? Why're you meetin' with him?" Joel's voice asked aggressively the moment you answered the call.

"He's holding out signing the papers until he speaks to me," you explained. "He says he'll sign them if I talk to him. I figured there's no harm, he can't hurt me-"

"No harm?!" Joel exclaimed, and you quickly stopped talking. "All he does is harm! The fuck are you thinkin'?" he asked, sounding less angry and more upset now.

"Madeline said it'll take longer to get a divorce if he refuses to sign. I just want this over with, Joel!" you said, your voice beginning to break. "I don't want to wait a few more weeks or months. I'm fucking done! And if listening to whatever he has to say for twenty minutes gets him to sign the goddamn papers, then I'll do it! Because I can't do this anymore!" you sobbed into the phone, the tears you fought to hold back all day finally coming to the surface.

"Okay, okay, calm down," he said soothingly, and you took a few shaky breaths in. He waited until your breathing steadied before speaking again. "What time are you supposed to see him?"

"8:30," you said, wiping your tears away with the back of your hand.

"Alright, I'll be there," he said. "Just in case. I wanna be there."

"You can't come in the room with me, Joel."

"You can't go in alone," he argued.

"Madeline said the conference room they booked has a door with a window. You can both watch from the hall."

He grumbled to himself on the other end and you waited, chewing on your lower lip nervously, for him to say something.

"One wrong move and I'm puttin' his head through the fuckin' wall," he muttered.

"That wouldn't exactly help your lawsuit," you reminded him.

"You let me worry 'bout that," he said, and you yawned. He must have heard you because his voice softened. "You gotta get some sleep. Big day tomorrow."

"I know," you replied, and although you felt like you wouldn't get much restful sleep, your eyelids were still getting heavy.

"I'll be there bright and early, alright? And I'm stayin' til it's over."

"What about Sarah?" you asked sleepily.

"She's stayin' at a friend's house. Couldn't be more excited about it. Practically kickin' me out," he said with a chuckle.

You laughed as you stared blankly at the TV, watching some poor girl cry when her crème brûlée burnt. "I'll see you tomorrow, then."

Joel bit his tongue on the other end of the call, holding back the words he really wanted to say but knew it wasn't the right time. Instead, he said "good night, baby. See you in the mornin'."

Tuesday

As expected, you tossed and turned all night. It was clear as day when you caught your reflection in the mirror and winced at what you saw. The bags under your bloodshot eyes wouldn't be tamed by the concealer Maria bought you so long ago, but you tried your best, anyway. After picking out the least ugly shirt and skirt combination, you made sure your hair looked decent before taking a deep breath and stepping out the door of your hotel room.

The first step towards your freedom.

You were proud of yourself. You had actually managed to not let the nerves get to you until you entered the courthouse and saw Madeline tapping away on her phone, wearing a dark blue pantsuit and hair pulled back in a simple bun, with a black leather suitcase hung over her shoulder. She looked up when she heard you approach, giving your outfit a nod of approval before enveloping you in a quick hug.

"You ready?"

"Ready as I'll ever be," you said, giving her a nervous smile. Your hands were beginning to shake as she walked you down a secluded hallway towards the conference room she had booked for your conversation with Patrick. You could feel your chest tighten with every step you took, but when you turned the corner and saw Joel leaning up against the wall in a brown suit with another man you didn't recognize but assumed was Patrick's lawyer, you instantly felt relief. When his eyes locked with yours and he gave you a small smile, you felt even calmer.

You could do this.

"Last chance. Are you sure you want to do this?" Madeline said next to you. Glancing through the window in the door, you saw Patrick sitting at the table in a rumpled jumpsuit, his handcuffed arms resting on the table as he stared down as his fingernails. You nodded and looked at Patrick's lawyer.

"Does he have the divorce papers, or do you?"

The lawyer gave you a polite smile before replying "I do, miss."

You nodded before taking a deep breath, and glancing at Joel one more time to remind yourself why you were doing this, you twisted the doorknob and stepped into the room.

Patrick lifted his head up when you walked in and gave you half a smile, but you just shut the door behind you and walked to the other end of the table, as far away from him as you possibly could get, and sat down.

He stared down the table at you, giving you his most charming persona, the side he always brought out when he knew he had gone too far and wanted to make amends. You folded your hands calmly on the table and tilted your head to the side, waiting for him to speak. Minutes ticked by, inching closer and closer to your trial time as you waited, refusing to be the one who bent first.

"New clothes?" he finally asked, and you quirked an eyebrow.

"Yeah, looks like you got some new clothes, too."

You patted yourself on the back for the jab, but you didn't show a hint of the smugness you were feeling when you saw a quick scowl flit across his face.

"Alright," he said, leaning back in his hair and lifting his hands up in mock defeat. "You win."

"What did I win?" you said with a frown.

"This," he said, motioning between the two of you. "You want outta this so badly, fine. I'll sign the papers. I'll leave you alone."

"Great," you said, trying to keep the tremble from your voice.

"You gotta drop these charges, though, baby. This shit could get me killed, you know that?"

"Don't call me baby."

He sat forward suddenly, making you flinch. "What the hell do you want me to call you, then?"

You took a steadying breath and glanced at the door, catching Joel's eye before looking back at Patrick.

"I'm not dropping the charges."

He shrugged and dropped his hands loudly on the table. "Then I ain't signing the papers."

You looked at Joel again. His lips were pressed in a thin line as he watched the two of you and you wondered if he could hear anything through the door.

"What about the charges against Joel? Would you let it go and sign if I dropped the charges?" you asked quietly, and that caught Patrick's interest. He smirked and folded his hands on the table.

"Oh, no. Can't do that. I got your boyfriend right where I want him. Got a rockstar witness that'll help me take him for all he's got. Hope that kid of his is smart, she's gonna need to get a scholarship for college. Daddy ain't gonna have two dimes to rub together when I'm done with him."

Your jaw clenched and your nostrils flared as you stared at Patrick across the table, doing your best to rein in your anger and not say something stupid.

"You don't have shit against him," you spat, and true to form, he couldn't help himself. He just had to show his hand.

"Bullshit. Got that girl he was on a date with that night at the bar willing to testify he had it out for me, that he was obsessed with you and would do anything to get rid of me," he sneered, looking quite pleased with himself.

You bit down on the inside of your cheek. You knew Nikki was pissed, but this was going too far.

"Then it doesn't sound like we have anything else to talk about," you said, standing up. You made your way to the door, passing by his chair, when he spoke once again.

"You're not gonna win, you know. They don't put cops in jail. Juries feel too guilty, knowing how dangerous it is."

You looked down at him, finally seeing him for who he really was: a pathetic, desperate, sad excuse for a man. No matter how long it took for Madeline to finalize your divorce, you would do it the right way. You've suffered for years, a few more months wouldn't kill you.

And then you would be free.

"Hope you're willing to bet your life on that," you said before turning on your heel and swinging open the door.

Joel was at your side in an instant, following you and Madeline down the corridor towards the courtroom.

"Do I even want to ask?" Madeline said over her shoulder.

"You were right. He wanted me to drop the charges in exchange for signing the papers," you told her, then glanced up at Joel by your side. "I said no. We're doing this the right way."

"Good," they both said at the same time. Your hand itched to reach out and hold his, but you knew you couldn't, so you settled for gently brushing your knuckles against the back of his hand and you saw the corner of his mouth twitch.

When you entered the courtroom, which was much smaller than you expected, your eyes immediately drifted around to the scattered few people seated in the spectator chairs. You had completely forgotten about your mother, and seeing her sitting there, on the other side of the room as your cousin, with her hair pulled back tightly and wearing a navy blue dress you hadn't seen before, sent you into shock. Fortunately, she stared straight ahead, avoiding your penetrating gaze, so you looked away and made eye contact with your cousin, who gave you a tight smile and a thumbs up.

Then you heard Joel suck in air next to you and you glanced up at him, following his gaze to Michelle, who was seated a few rows behind the plaintiff's table.

"What's she doing here?" you tried to mutter under your breath.

"Don't know," he replied quietly, turning his focus away from her.

Madeline swung open the doors for you to step through and take a seat behind the desk, where she joined you and began to open up her briefcase and spread out all her files on the table. Joel slid into the row of chairs right behind you, and if you took a deep breath, you could smell him. Gone was the putrid cologne, the only thing he ever had in common with Patrick besides his profession. All that you could smell was him. His natural, masculine scent mixed with a subtle hint of his deodorant and some hair product. A smell you had grown to love and crave.

Glancing at the clock on the wall, you noticed you had less than five minutes before the trial began. More people began to stream in. Witnesses on both sides, some you recognized and some you didn't. A few cops that you knew were close with Patrick on the force sat together in full regalia, no doubt trying to win favor with the jury with their choice in clothes, just like you.

You had a chance to look at Joel just one more time, one fleeting smile and wink from him before the doors swung open. Patrick and his lawyer marched up to their table, both of them avoiding looking in your direction as they got settled in just in time for the bailiff to announce for the room to rise, and moments later the judge and jury walked in.

You were holding up better than you expected. All of these months of preparation finally paid off. You were more confident after each witness Madeline brought up to the stand. She started with a couple old co-workers of yours, who didn't have much to say other than they had asked you a few times about your bruises and you had made up excuses, but they always suspected something else was going on. Patrick's lawyer stood up and objected when they hinted at your husband being the cause, and the judge agreed. Madeline backed off her line of questioning and once she was satisfied, announced no further questions before sitting down. Patrick's lawyer - Beckett Kennedy, you learned - chose not to question them further.

Next was your cousin, Mary, who testified she knew Patrick was hurting you, but as Beckett would clarify for the jury later under cross examination, had no proof other than your word. She explained how you continually went to her for help, that she helped you get on birth control without Patrick's knowledge, and how you confided in her the night before you fled to Texas.

The next witness in your defense was Carol, the doctor Joel had brought you to after Patrick's most recent assault.

That was when things got rocky.

There were blown up images of your injuries being projected in front of the entire room, including some that blurred out your privates, but you still found to be absolutely humiliating. You fidgeted in your seat, trying not to show too much emotion as Carol explained in great detail all of the injuries you had sustained not only that day, but historically as well. Madeline called into evidence your old medical reports from the hospitals back in Philadelphia, and Carol gave her expert opinion on each one, explaining in layman's terms what each and every note meant so that the jury could understand.

Every single cut, bruise, laceration, and broken bone was discussed as you stared down at your hands in your lap, your cheeks burning. You heard Joel shift behind you in his seat and you tried to take a deep breath, tried to catch his scent to calm you, but you were too far away or maybe it wasn't strong enough and the urge to turn around and bury your face in his neck for comfort was overwhelming.

Finally, Madeline finished up with Carol, thanking her for her time before sitting down next to you. She gave you a wink, trying to reassure you everything was going smoothly, and you gave her a small smile in return.

Beckett then got up to cross examine Carol. He tried to poke holes in her medical expertise, tried to question her knowledge about sexual assault and if she could truly be considered an expert in that particular field of study when she was just a general practitioner but Carol sat tall and told the court she was an OBGYN for ten years and that she very much had a vast amount of knowledge in the area of female anatomy.

After Beckett insultingly tried to suggest pap smears and the occasional birth could hardly make Carol an expert in trauma, she was excused.

"We have time for one more witness, Maddy," Judge Dean, an older man with bright blue eyes and absolutely no hair on his head, announced before she stood up and took a deep breath.

"The prosecution calls Sheriff Joel Miller to the stand."

After Joel raised his right hand and swore to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth, he sat down and adjusted his blazer, then glanced at Madeline expectantly. She gave him a warm smile and started slow. She thanked him for traveling all the way to Austin to give his testimony, asked him to verify how long he had been town sheriff, and asked him to give an approximate idea of how many incidents he had encountered in his tenure for domestic or sexual abuse.

"So it sounds like you're no stranger to this type of crime."

"Unfortunately, no," he replied.

"The plaintiff didn't call the police when she was assaulted, is that correct?" she asked.

"That's correct."

"Can you explain how you came to find out she was hurt?"

Joel took a deep breath and glanced quickly at you before looking back at Madeline. "She works as a waitress at the diner in town. See her almost every day for lunch. One day she called in sick, I had a hunch somethin' was wrong and her apartment's on the way back to work, so I stopped to do a wellness check on her."

"What caused you to have a hunch, sheriff?"

"The day before, I saw the plaintiff and defendant at a coffee shop. I witnessed the defendant put his hands on the plaintiff in an aggressive manner and it raised some red flags," he explained calmly.

"And when you went to her apartment to do a wellness check, what did you see?" Madeline asked, looking up from her legal pad with her glasses perched on the tip of her nose. You dropped your gaze to your lap. You could remember that day vividly. The shame and embarrassment and the pain all came rushing back, and you tried to blink the tears away as you focused on Joel's answer.

"It was clear the plaintiff had been attacked," he began, and only because you knew him so well, you could hear the slight strain in his voice. "She had a gash on her forehead, a split lip, a bruise on her cheek and scratches all down her neck."

Madeline hummed as she picked up the remote for the projector and flipped through the images that Carol had gone over. She stopped on a picture of your face with wounds that matched Joel's description and you noticed out of the corner of your eye a few jurors shake their heads sadly.

"Are these images the injuries you're describing, sheriff?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"After you performed the wellness check, what happened?" Madeline asked, setting down the remote but leaving the picture of your beat up face on the monitor. You knew she was doing it to garner sympathy and help paint the picture Joel was describing, but it made your stomach turn.

"I encouraged the plaintiff to seek medical treatment and press charges."

"And that is when the plaintiff visited Dr. Carol Parker, correct?"

"That's correct."

"I noticed at the same time, the defendant was in holding, is that true?" Madeline asked, and Joel nodded.

"Yes."

"Why was he arrested, sheriff?"

"He was drunk and disorderly in public the night before, so I took him in to sleep it off."

"Were those the only charges against him?" she asked.

"No. He also punched me when I was attempting to make the arrest, so he was also charged with assaulting a police officer."

"And when the plaintiff came to the station to give her statement, that was when the additional charges were filed, correct?" Madeline asked, picking up the remote to switch to a slide of the long list of charges against Patrick.

"Correct."

"I also see here a restraining order was filed to protect the plaintiff."

"Correct."

"And did the defendant obey the restraining order?"

"No, he did not," Joel said, straightening up in his seat. "He showed up at the plaintiff's place of employment and tried to intimidate her. Threatened her." You closed your eyes for a moment, remembering that night when Tommy and Thor stood up for you. How scared you were, how hopeless you felt and then Joel arrived, and you felt like you could breathe again.

"And the police were called then?"

"Yes. Maria Miller, one of the owners of the diner, called down to the station and spoke with my deputy, who then called me on his way down to the diner and I met up with him there."

"To arrest the defendant for violating the restraining order?"

"Yes, that's right."

"And did you?" Madeline asked, leaning against the desk and crossing her ankles in front of her.

"Not that evening, no. He couldn't be found," Joel said. You stiffened in your seat, bracing for what was coming next.

"Can you tell me what happened after you arrived at the diner?"

Joel swallowed and glanced briefly in your direction again before answering. "I took the plaintiff back to her apartment so she could get some things and stay elsewhere for the night. We were worried the defendant would try to harm her and thought it best she stay away from her residence until he was apprehended," he said, pausing for a moment. "But when we got there, it was clear the defendant had already broken in-"

"Objection," Beckett announced suddenly.

"Sustained."

"Allow me to rephrase," Madeline said, pushing off her desk. "What did you witness when you arrived back at the plaintiff's apartment?"

"It appeared the place had been broken into," Joel began. "Her belongings were destroyed. There were holes in the drywall, dish-ware broken, graffiti on the walls, and what smelled like urine in her bed."

Madeline used her remote to flip to images of your apartment from that night, and when the one of your bathroom came onto the screen, you heard a low murmur from the people behind you.

"According to my notes, you sent out a pair of officers to process the scene the next morning, along with a forensic analyst, is that correct?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"I would like to draw your attention to exhibit 6C, the forensics report," Madeline said, clicking the remote to another slide where a document appeared with the label Exhibit 6C at the bottom. "What can you tell me about this report, sheriff?"

"Objection. The witness can hardly be considered a forensics expert, your honor," Beckett said, standing up.

"I believe he's proven he has many years of experience and can answer basic questions," Madeline argued. "I will wait until tomorrow to question the forensics analyst in more detail, but I believe the sheriff has the ability to answer one simple question today."

The judge looked back and forth between Madeline and Beckett as he considered his answer.

"Be careful, counselor," he warned Madeline, then turned to Joel. "Go ahead."

"The DNA taken from the mattress matched the sample we took from the defendant at the station, so we brought additional charges against him for breaking and entering once he was arrested."

"And when did you finally arrest him, sheriff?"

"The following day."

"Can you please describe for the court how and where you found the defendant?" Madeline asked, leaning against the desk again. You nervously twisted your fingers in your lap as you listened.

"We found him in a crack house with some locals and a couple prostitutes."

"Did he resist arrest?"

"No, this time he was too high and passed out-"

"Objection!" Beckett yelled. "Speculation, your honor."

"Sustained," the judge said, frowning at Joel, but Joel just kept his gaze trained on Madeline.

"No further questions, your honor," Madeline said, turning on her heel to sit back down next to you.

"Your witness," the judge said with a nod in Beckett's direction, and a smug smile spread across his face before he stood up. He paced in front of the bench for a few moments, trying to build up the anticipation, and it was working. Your heart was thundering in your chest as you watched him walk slowly back and forth, but Joel appeared to be perfectly calm as he waited for his first question.

When he stopped pacing and you saw the look on Beckett's face, you knew exactly what was coming. It was the moment he had been waiting for. The bombshell. Their only chance at swaying the jury in their favor thus far, and he was ready to strike.

"Sheriff, have you ever had sex with the plaintiff?"

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loveshotzz · 7 months

Text

My name’s Elvira, but you can call me tonight

steve harrington x eddie’sbestfriend!reader

Melt With You

summary: A cancelled movie night, Steve’s first high, and a realization you weren’t expecting.

wc: 2.7k

warnings: my blog is 18+ but this will be pretty safe for work. takes place in 1988 when Elvira Mistress of the Dark came out. post season four but no mention of the upside down, fem!reader, mentions of weed smoking, mentions of being stoned and being high for the first time, mutual pining, cuddling.

A/N: first I want to dedicate this to @bewilderedbunny for pointing out that Steve Harrington is Bob coded which made me fall even more in love with him. You can also thank @dr-aculaaa for putting this brain worm in my head where it spiraled and then she entertained it again and it spiraled some more. p.s. I know her movie macabre was cancelled in 86 but brought back in the 90’s but let’s pretend.

mini series masterlist -> chapter two 🎃

Steve was close. Too close.

His thigh is warm pressed against yours, long legs spread wide taking up most of the room on the couch. The cedar that clings to the threads of his maroon sweater mix with the old spice that he’s almost sprayed too much of, and you’re surprised at how much you actually like it. You blame it on the joint you both shared, and you do it again when his socked foot touches yours from under the blanket draped across your laps and your heart rate kicks up a few beats. This was just Steve, your new friend. Eddie’s new unlikely friend.

The living room in your apartment is dimly lit in a mess of Halloween colored string lights strung up along your walls that Eddie helped you hang up last week on the first official day of fall. They fill the small space in bursts of warm orange pumpkins and tiny purple bats while Elvira Mistress of The Dark glows from the screen of your TV in front of your couch. The couch where Steve is still sitting too close.

The flicker of your candles dances across your walls and you’re tempted to blow them all out when they keep catching the corner of your eye. Maybe that's why you can't focus on the movie you were so excited about. The movie you raised a big fuss over when the group canceled your weekly night in favor of dates and work. The movie Steve still offered to watch with you saying he had no plans anyway. You really contemplate it when you realize it’s filling your living room with the kind of smell that’s eerily similar to the one embedded in the leather of the BMW you recently started getting more rides in.

When Steve laughs you can smell the berry on his breath from the Red Vines he can’t stop eating, his fingertips glisten from the half finished tub of popcorn on the coffee table. His arm brushes the length of yours when he leans forward to toss the almost empty pack of candy with the rest of the snacks and your stare immediately finds the sliver of tan skin revealed to you when the maroon hem rides up. Stomach flipping when you spot more freckles than the ones that seem to dot the endless expanses of his perpetually sun kissed skin.

“Wow, she’s funny!” He snickers like he just got a good surprise, leaning back into the cushions. “I didn’t know she was so funny.”

The shift in his weight makes the couch dip, bringing you closer to him. Shoulder to shoulder, thigh to thigh. Why is your chest tight?

Turning your head, you meet his blood shot, heavy lidded gaze and lazy smile that pushes up his pink cheeks. You don’t think you’ve ever seen Steve Harrington so content. So relaxed. It might have something to do with the fact that the joint you both shared was his first.

“Beauty, humor and brains? How could you go wrong?” You grin and it makes the amber in his eyes light up.

“Yeah,” He stares at you for a second longer than he’d have the guts to on a normal day before adding with a sigh “tell me about it.”

There was something different about the way he was looking at you tonight, and it makes your palms sweat. The fly away honey strands that stick out wildly by his ears look softer than normal too. Why do you want to find out? Clearing your throat, he raises his eyebrows up at you in an unphased offering of his attention.

“How are you doing big boy? You coughed quite a bit earlier.” His gaze narrows at the nickname letting you know that Steve was still very much in there.

“I think it’s perfectly normal for someone who hasn’t smoked before to cough when they take an accidental big hit,” he challenges, his sock covered toes finding yours again seemingly on their own, “and to answer your rudely asked question, I’m having a very nice time.”

He tries to keep his face straight but the smile that stretches a mile wide across yours makes him snort, the whites of his perfect teeth blinding in the dark when you wiggle your feet with his.

“Good, I wouldn’t want Robin to come hunt me down or something.” You giggle leaning back letting your own high relax you into the couch.

Your eyes find Elvira’s generous cleavage on the screen as you try to ignore the feeling of Steve’s hand touching yours when he scratches his thigh and again when he leaves it there.

“Robin won’t care, it’s Nance you gotta worry about. Worry wart Wheeler.” The nickname rolls off his tongue too easily and makes you both stop, letting the sounds of the towns committee trying to get Elvira out fill the silence before you both fall into a fit of laughter.

It was the kind of laughter that left hot tears streaming down your faces as you leaned even further into each other trying to catch your breath, only for one of you to mutter ‘worry wart wheeler’ when the other would finally be holding it together just to start all over again. By the time it was done, and the last few chuckles subsided, his head had found a new home on your shoulder with his forehead buried in the crook of your neck.

The smell of his hairspray, and the soft flyaways you’d wondered about tickle your nose with his hair pressed to your cheek. Your socked feet stay tangled together as you try not to think about the size difference and that stupid saying you’d heard in middle school, and you definitely try not to think about how the tip of his pinky bumps into the side of your hand and how you don’t hesitate to hook it with yours.

Cozy. Too Cozy.

There’s a comfortable silence that falls between you both when your attention is finally brought back to the movie and you wonder if he’s having the same existential crisis as you at how good this feels. Eddie would never let you live it down. You and the hair?! Steve’s amused hum breaks you out of your train of thought and you already know you’ll have to watch this again when you aren’t so…distracted.

Elvira and Bob are fighting with a monster she accidentally concocted inside of a pot instead of the casserole she was trying to make, and his finger tightens around yours when Bob almost loses the fight before he shakes against you with a chuckle. The longer the movie goes on, the more you start noticing Steve’s similarities to the hunk who stole the Mistress of the Dark’s affections, mumbling an ‘oh my god’.

God dammit, you have a crush on Steve Harrington.

The weed makes the realization floor you more than it probably would on a normal day, because you aren’t blind, anyone could tell you how handsome the former king of Hawkins is. But no one could have warned you about how soft he is, especially right now with sleepy eyes and messy hair that smells like pine and too much hair product. They wouldn’t be able to tell you how big of a dweeb he is, or as Robin affectionately calls him a ‘dingus’. They also don’t know how good of a friend he is to anyone who’s lucky to have him, like refusing to let you spend the night alone and watching a movie he knew you were excited about just because he’d actually listened when you talked about it for weeks, even saving you the first copy in Keith’s possession.

Too bad you’ve barely retained any of it.

As if he could hear your thoughts, you feel the slight turn of his head and the heavy weight of his stare on the side of your face. You try not to give yourself away and keep your gaze locked on the TV where the town has Elvira ready to be burned at the stake, and Bob has to rescue her. You have to resist the urge to roll your eyes, the universe just rubbing it in now.

The side of your body he’s been leaning against starts to go numb, and no matter how much you want to stay exactly like this for whatever is left of the night, the need for circulation becomes too much. Your eyes flick down to his that haven’t haven’t wavered and that slow happy smile spreads across his pink lips when they meet.

“You doing okay, honey.” The nickname he’s called you sarcastically in arguments sounds different when it’s wrapped in affection like this.

“Not that I’m not enjoying -,” nerves make your throat close up and you have to clear them out before you finish, “not that I’m not enjoying this. My arm is just kind of going numb.”

Heat rises to your cheeks with embarrassment that you know is misplaced, and his eyes go wide when your words click. His reaction is fast despite the smoked joint that's snuffed out in an empty coke can on the table when he pulls away. The warmth of his body that’s invaded what feels like every inch of yours for the last hour is gone and the tightness in your chest worsens now that you miss it. Stupid crush. Stupid blood flow.

“Oh my god, sorry, sorry, I was just so comfortable I wasn’t even thinking.” There’s stress in his tone that you haven’t heard all night and you decide that you hate it, he’s always stressed.

“Hey,” Your fingers curl around his bicep, and it flexes under the thick material of his sweater when his eyes meet yours, making you forget how to speak for a moment, “if we lay down on our sides we’ll - we’ll be more comfortable?”

Your heart beats loud in your ears after you throw out your suggestion fully knowing there’s gotta be less than twenty minutes left of the movie at most.

“Yeah, we can do that, like, big spoon?” He points to himself, with eyes as red as his cheeks before pointing to you with a small grin, “little spoon?”

You bite your bottom lip to contain the smile that threatens to break across your face, and it only makes his grow.

“Yeah, just like that Harrington.” You giggle and you don’t miss the kind of glint in his eyes that sparkles because of it.

“Harrington? I thought I was big boy?” He mocks with fake offense, clumsily clambering back onto the couch letting himself fully extend.

His socked feet almost hang off the armrest but the problem is quickly solved when he turns onto his side leaving just enough room for you. One of his big hands patting the cushions in an invitation that makes you both laugh.

“I thought you hated that nickname?” you tease, butterflies that never existed before erupting when he watches you with soft eyes climb into the spot next to him.

Your head lands in the crook of his elbow, amber and spice enveloping you while one of his long fingers curl around your hip not hesitating to pull you flush against his chest like he missed you. Maybe you weren’t the only one with a wandering mind tonight.

“I don’t,” he agrees, lips coming up right next to your ear and you wonder if he can feel the shiver that runs down your spine, “but I kinda like it when you say it.”

Your body curls into him when you giggle with a throb in your core that makes your thighs press together. Steve chuckles, hooking his chin over your shoulder and his feet find yours at the end of the couch like they did under the blanket. Grabbing the throw off the floor, you drape it back over the two of you when you both finally get situated.

He feels like he’s everywhere and it’s even harder to concentrate like this, especially when all his fingers are laced with yours now. The pad of his thumb rubs circles on the top of your hand, and you can feel the way his cheeks push up into a grin every time something makes him laugh. You spend the last bit of what’s left of the movie tangled up with him like this, and neither one of you try to move when the credits roll or when the screen goes black.

The air buzzes with the kind of tension that’s laid dormant until there’s nothing to distract you from it anymore in the new silence. His breath fans hot across your neck while the strokes of his thumb get slower, adding a little more pressure to the muscle there, and feels good enough to have your eyes flutter closed.

Maybe it’s the darkness of your living room, or the way the tip of his nose starts to trace the shell of your ear but you get the surge of confidence you need to turn around and face him. Steve doesn’t protest at all, letting you move with the kind of ease that makes you wonder if he was waiting for it all along. The small smile on his face tells you he absolutely was.

The new angle has you looking up at him from under your lashes, while his hand that held yours all night covers the middle of your back bringing you to his chest, getting you just as close as before. Your legs slot together while warm lights flicker across his face, they bounce and reflect off the lingering glaze that coats his eyes. Embers burning in a mossy ground.

It starts to feel like Steve Harrington wants to kiss you, and you’d be lying if your said you didn’t want him too.

“Hi” You whisper, the corners of your lips pulling up because they can’t help it when he looks at you like this.

“Hi” the rich honey of his voice comes out low as he dips his head down to rest on his forearm right above yours.

The tips of your noses are dangerously close to touching, and you swear you hear his breath hitch when your feet find his again. Holding his gaze, you silently dare him to read your mind so you don’t have to say it out loud. You do it first.

“I had a lot of fun tonight.” You try not to think about how it sounds like something you’d say at the end of a date.

“Me too, I’m uh -“ a puff of hot air fans across your face when he laughs, and you notice his first sign of nerves all night, “I’m glad I didn’t make a fool of myself or anything.”

“I have to say I’m impressed, you handled your first joint like a pro.” Your hands dare to run up his chest, plucking a piece of lint from the threads of his sweater. You feel the way the muscles in his stomach flex for you, and you have to bite back your smirk.

“I had good company is all.” He hums, the blunt ends of his nails scratching along the dip of your back, before whispering “Is this okay?”

Your eyes flutter shut with contentment you haven’t felt in a while, your whole body melting into his with a mumbled ‘mmmhm’

“Does Elvira have any other movies we could watch sometime?” His question makes your eyes pop open, and he tries to look as nonchalant as possible before adding, “you know just me and you.”

“Not a movie, per say but she has a show I like to watch where she does funny commentary on B rated horror films.” Your two feet trap one of his between them playfully to try and ease the nerves he shouldn’t have, earning you that megawatt smile that’s made half the ladies in Hawkins swoon.

So, Steve Harrington wasn’t a mind reader.

“That sounds like fun,” He lets out a relieved sigh that you didn’t know he was holding, close enough now for your noses to touch.

“Yeah? You wanna come have fun with me?” You tease, but it comes out sounding like a double entendre that makes your skin heat up, especially when Steve closes his eyes and groans. The nails that scratch your back freeze as he tries regaining some semblance of self control. Licking his lips, he exhales a breath out of his nose before he speaks,

“Abso-“

His answer gets cut off by the sound of your front door slamming open, followed by the bellowing voice of the only other person who has keys to your apartment.

“I’ve come for boobies and I brought beer! Better late than never am I ri- Whoa, whoa, WHOA, what is going on here?” Eddie’s shock is quickly replaced by amusement, dimples poking deep holes in his cheeks when he grins wildly as he takes in the two of you on the couch.

What was going on here?

#my writing #steve harrington #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington imagines #steve harrington oneshot #steve harrington thoughts #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington x fem!reader

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surftrips · 4 months

Text

BAD REPUTATION | LUKE CASTELLAN

DISTRACTION — CHAPTER 03

pairing luke castellan x fem!ares!reader

summary y/n's guitar practicing is interrupted several times.

author's note slowly introducing more of the social media aus into these fics! you can view all of the characters’ twitter accounts here.

→ installment of this au read for context

The weather outside was beautiful. Kids were strewn out around camp, some were by the lake while others found shade in the armory or stables. You, however, were in your cabin all alone. You knew that this was one of the few times it would be empty, so you snuck away from archery to practice your other instrument– your guitar.

You began strumming the first few notes to a song you had been working on. Quietly singing the lyrics to yourself, you were reminded of a time before camp.

It was back when you were still with him. You recall how your back leaned against his as he helped move your fingers to the correct strings, how he guided your hands to the right positions, he was always so patient with you. But that had all come crashing down when the monsters in your head became real, too real for him to deal with.

Anyway, that was a long time ago now. You went back to strumming your guitar and tried to push the memory away, but you couldn’t. You hated that he still occupied your mind, no matter how hard you tried to move on.

You thought that coming here would help, and it did for a while. Other boys became distractions and temporary fixes, but then there was Luke, who confused and terrified you.

When Annabeth and Clarisse brought him up at your sleepover the other night, you felt the need to hide. The bravest girl in camp, and you couldn’t face your own feelings. It made you feel weak, and you hated that.

Realizing that you got distracted once again, you resumed singing for a third time.

It wasn’t long before you heard the sound of keys dropping followed by“shit.” You looked up from where you were sitting cross-legged in bed to see who it was.

“Hello?” you called out.

A bashful curly-haired boy peeked his head into your door. You frowned.

“Hey Y/N, sorry for interrupting you,” Percy said, slowly.

“Aren’t you supposed to be training right now?”

“Y-yes,” the boy stammered. “But Luke needed me to get something from Hermes cabin for him.”

“You do realize this is Ares, right?”

“Right, I just-”

“Just…?” You knew you were being a little rude to the boy, but it had been a while since you messed with the campers. You couldn’t have them thinking you went soft all of a sudden.

“Sorry, I was just walking by and I heard someone singing and I figured it must be you, so I just stopped for a second to listen.”

“Okay, stalker.”

“I wasn’t stalking, I swear!”

“Whatever, just get going before Luke gets mad at you too.”

Not needing you to tell him twice, Percy rushed away. Sighing, you went back to your guitar for the umpteenth time.

📥 INCOMING MESSAGE FROM: PERCY

You enjoyed about 30 more minutes of peace before you heard a soft knock on your door. Grumbling, you climbed out of bed, ready to scare the camper away.

“I swear to god-” you started.

“Hey, hey, I come here in peace,” Luke put his hands up defensively.

“Ironic because you’re actually disturbing my peace. What is it with everyone bothering me today?”

“Look, I came here to apologize for Percy earlier.”

“You wasted your time because this could have been a text then,” you said. You were usually nicer to Luke than the rest of the campers, but you hadn’t been in a good mood recently, not since the sleepover and not since you started working on this song.

He must have noticed your change in attitude toward him because he asked, “Is everything okay?”

“Yes,” you said quickly. “And even if it weren’t, I’m not going to bother you with my problems.”

“You’re not a bother,” he responded sincerely.

“Well, I’m glad you think that. But us Ares kids, we have to take care of ourselves. I’m used to it.”

“Just because you’re used to something doesn’t mean it’s the way things should be.”

“Oh, my bad, Castellan. I didn’t take you for a philosopher.”

“Alright, whatever. I just came to apologize for Percy, I’ll leave you to your moping.”

“Hey! I’m not moping!” you said, defensively.

“It sure does look like it,” he said, scanning the room and landing on the mess of sheets on your bed and the snack bags you had discarded haphazardly on the floor.

“I’ll have you know I’m actually working on a very special project, so. This is what the room of an artist looks like.”

“Oh?” he chuckled. “Is that so?”

“Mhm, I can show you.”

“Alright, bet,” he found a spot next to you on your bed and watched as you set up your guitar.

You strummed the first few verses of your song, hyper-aware of how close the boy next to you was right now. You could feel his breath on the back of your neck, and closed your eyes as you slowly allowed yourself to lean into him, softly singing the lyrics.

When you got to the chorus, you cleared your throat. “Uhm, here is where I’m getting stuck a bit, because everyone keeps barging in here.”

“Is this the part where you ask me to leave then?”

You stared into his brown eyes. You wondered how anyone’s eyes could look so soft, could hold so much emotion. Did he look at everyone like this?

“Y/N?” he said, after a moment.

Shit, how long were you staring at him for? And was your mouth open the entire time?

“Sorry, I thought I saw something in your eye. Probably just a piece of dust,” you laughed nervously. “Uhm, yeah, I think I need another hour or something to finish this song, but I’ll see you at the campfire tonight, yeah?”

If Luke was disappointed, he didn’t look it. “Yeah, of course, I gotta head back to my counselor duties anyway.”

He saluted you playfully as he turned around to leave, being sure to close the door after him.

#bad rep fic #luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #percy jackson series #percy jackson #pjo #charlie bushnell #charlie bushnell x reader #luke castellan imagine #percy jackson x reader #pjo x you #luke castellan x you

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wandasfifthwife · 1 month

Text

(3) take me dancing * | I got a bad idea series

—> masterlist

southern!wandanat x fem!city-girl reader

tw: alcohol consumption by r and w (r is tipsy, not drunk), sexual description and tension (18+), slight angst for one part (denial section), r described to be wearing jeans and reveling top, sexual dancing, sort of a party scene

a/n: dangerous woman by Ariana is THE song for this chapter OMWWW —not proofread :)

Falling in love is a beautiful feeling, and one that surrounded you. Linages being passed down between your parent’s parents to their siblings. The only other in the family who’s single is your brother, but he deserves to be single.

There are stages of developing a crush.

The first stage is simply meeting them.

That day was only thirty minutes long. You stood out in the dark, the car lights shining where the four of you stood. Your grandma wanted you to meet them, saying it would rude to leave and not greet the new neighbors. So you stood there, out in the cold, trying to end the conversation as quick as possible so you would get to your flight on time.

During the holidays you had visited your grandparents for the one week you had off. When you hugged your grandma, your eyes would flicker over to the woman on the other side of the fence. Finding her carrying a stack of hay in both of her hands, gloves on and hair tied back. You would see them around, but kept your distance feeling like you had no reason to meet.

The second stage is realization.

It was the night you had gotten drunk, and the night they had taken you in. It was the days that followed after you had woke up in their bed. It was the way that after that moment you found yourself running into them almost everywhere.

After your grandma had invited them to your event, they thought it be best to do the same. Natasha had come to the front door, sharing news about wanting to have them over for dinner. Your grandma fretted over the idea for a minute, but she welcomed your family over still. Your grandma accepted, shutting the door and explaining the news to the you all that night.

It went well. Their door was propped open, allowing people to come and go and make decisions as they wish. You found yourself talking with Wanda. With it starting out as an ask to help her, it ended with you spending the few hours you had laughing in the kitchen. Your grandparents were ever the social butterfly and invited them, and practically everyone else in their small neighborhood—back over for another cook-out.

A week of almost daily sightings started to become something you expected. Their house is a five minute walk from your grandparents. You would find yourself walking around the side of the house that faced theirs in hopes you would catch a glimpse, or vise versa. You found yourself preening whenever they walked by, fixing a part of you that you felt mildly insecure about when you heard their voices in the distance.

Natasha made a joke one dinner. She sat across from you at the table, laughing at the recent story you were telling where you messed up and dropped hot water on the barn cat. It slipped out. A total accident of speech where you said you noticed them on the other side of the stable.

“Are you following us?”

She laughed. And you did too, but you felt like her words were slightly true. It spiraled that night when the week’s events caught up with you.

You were always looking forward to seeing them. You smiled when you noticed them walking by. You would laugh harder at a joke if it were told by them. You got giddy when they invited you over. And your heart raced when they stood close to you.

The next stage is denial.

There was nothing worse than the guilt you felt. You’d never thought you’d see the day where you found a married couple attractive. You confused the two of them when you took off like you did the first day you arrived. Avoidance was your friend, one you tried to keep close by chasing after it.

They tried to talk. The doorbell rang and you sprinted up and slammed your door by the time your brother reached the front door. Your ear pressed to the door, conversations muffled save for a few important words. Wanda had come to check in on you. It was incredibly sweet, causing you to tear up. It hurt to stay within those walls and hear her say her goodbyes. It was for the best.

The fourth stage is sharing.

It’s incredibly difficult keeping a secret to yourself. The means of telling another about your infatuation ate away at you anytime you got alone time with one of your family members.

It was an early Friday morning. You woke up with a headache, a result of last night’s crying session. You wondered down the steps in search for something to eat, and any headache medicine you could fine. Your grandparents were outside, sitting in their rocking chairs. It seemed best to join them, grabbing a bowl of fruit and sitting beside them.

They’ve told you the story of how they fell in love before, but this time you listened. Your grandma smiling at the words coming from her husband. It was all about how they met back in 1943. How he was ever the same then as he is now with her.

She looked to you with a different expression on her face. A hand landed on yours as she asked if you had anyone in mind. You spent the morning relaying your thoughts from the last week and a half. The tightness in your chest falling away from the care in their actions and how they really listened to you.

The fifth and final stage is acceptance.

You had just under a week left. Your phone notifying you to check in for your flight in a few days, officially telling you that you’re leaving soon. Your brother, being the one who’s practically lived here since you’ve left for college, invited you to join his friends to the line/swing dance hall. You nothing that night, so you accepted the invitation and slipped out your window at 12. If you had gotten caught

The car was pulled out front, music blaring from the speakers it almost looked like the car was vibrating. You climbed in the backseat, sitting thigh to thigh with another one his friends. He introduced himself and it made the car ride less awkward being practically on top on one another.

“Been line dancing,” he asks, his face illuminated by a street light every three minutes.

“Went religiously in high school,” you answer, pushing yourself up to get a lick of the breeze blowing into the car.

“Nah, really?”

“Really, I went with a few girlfriends at the time.”

He quirks an eyebrow, “we’ll see, city girl.”

The price at the window was fifteen per person for the entire night. You waved the fifteen dollars in his face, “might be a city girl now, but at least I make money.”

He shoves you towards the main room, “don’t be arrogant.”

The classes had ended at 11. Everything that played now was a mix between songs they taught the dance to an hour ago or well-known songs. There was a crowd, a layer of sweat amongst a majority of them.

Your brother bumps into your side, passing you a bottle, “you dressed up nice.”

“This is what I wear around the farm.”

He shrugs, looking around the room, “oh, she’s here.”

“Who’s she?”

Your brother watches you scan the room with a deadpanned face. He angles your face towards the left corner of the room.

You know he’s talking about the women in red, but you hone in on the two beside her.

“She’s so beautiful. Should I try to get her number, I don’t want to be rude though.”

“Sure.”

He makes a face at the drink you took. He makes the effort of trying to stop you, but he tries a bit too late.

“Don’t get drunk,“ he whispers into your head, leaving you alone and walking towards the other end of the room.

A song you recognize echos through the room, and the steps come naturally. You understand now why those on the floor had a layer is sweat. You start to sweat yourself feeling the heat from the other bodies rub off and onto you.

You follow along with those surrounding you, mindlessly switching between each step with ease. After a twist of your hips you angle your body to face the fourth wall. You meet their eyes as you finish the steps facing the wall.

It’s not been enough time for the alcohol to settle in, so it can only be blamed on a sudden increase in confidence.

You may come to regret it later, but you’ve already emphasized the move where you wind your hips around. It’s entirely too intimate and it eerily reminds you of a scene from a movie. Your attention focused on them amongst the crowd present.

The alcohol kicks in when the song ends. You wonder towards them, a dazed smile on your face.

“Hi Wands,” you slur, “come here often?”

“I do on Friday nights,” she looks at your boots, “where’d you get those?”

“I think your house. Anyways, please come dance with me.”

“I don’t lead, angel.”

You look to Natasha, mouthing please. She grabs your hand and walks you onto the floor. A bubbly laugh sounding from you as she places a hand on your waist.

“You don’t have to be scared to touch me,” you press her hand further down your waist until it’s edging touching your ass. She has a steady blank look on her face as she spins you around to the music.

A specific move twirls your back her chest. You loose your morality when you throw your head back onto her shoulder and grind your hips back into hers. Her nose is brushing up your neck, making you shiver but you cover it with a laugh.

Her hands move to hold your hip to spin you out. She pulls you back to dip you down, a smile forming on her face at the silly smile on your face. You pop back up, face close to hers when you do. You look behind her head, finding Wanda leaning against the wall, downing a drink. Her eyes having left you the entire time you spend on the dance floor.

“There’s better alcohol at home,” Natasha asks as she walks up to Wanda, voice raspy.

“Taste doesn’t matter when the goal is to get drunk.”

Natasha grins, continuing to talk with her while you’re floating away from the hand she has settled in your back pocket. The looks they gave you throughout the night and hand placements has your mind spiraling. You’ve accepted that they may be partial to accepting your bad advances.

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neptuneiris · 4 months

Text

could you pretend to be in love? (02/10)

The Contract

pairing: modern!aemond × fem!reader (fake dating)

summary: there is no turning back now and now you and Aemond set the rules and conditions to start the whole farce.

word count: 4.6k

previous part • next part • series masterlist

HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!🥳

I thought this would be a very nice way to wish happy new year to all of you beautiful people who support me and like what I write, you don't know how much that means to me🥺

thank you for so much support and for so much love, I have loved being here and I definitely plan to stay for longer, seeing how that love evolves and my place here as a writer🥰 so enjoy a lot this new chapter that I really hope you like it a lot❤

many blessings to all of you, my best wishes for your lives in this 2024, I love you all so much!😊❤

enjoy!

It's the first thing you see after turning off the alarm and you curiously enter to read the recent messages from an unknown number, not having the slightest idea of who it might be.

But you let out a long sigh of frustration when you read them and see that it's Aemond, who you don't understand how the fuck he got your number. Of course, it shouldn't have been hard for him, just a few questions and anyone can tell him what he wants to know.

And knowing that you have a long day ahead of you today, you already feel the pressure all over your body when you haven't even left your bed, where you also feel the frustration and all this uncertainty that you thought you had already overcome, but no.

You barely accepted yesterday and suddenly putting the plan into action from one day to the next, it's too much. But without really having a choice, you reluctantly force yourself to get up and start getting ready.

After an hour, you leave your house with the nagging feeling of carrying a weight on your shoulders to school. And all the way there, not even the music in your ears can make your mind calm down for a moment.

Knowing very soon that your whole social life will be a mess and you will no longer be invisible, since after all Aemond was right in that respect, causes you even more uneasiness and also nervousness because you are going to pretend to be the girlfriend of the most popular guy in school.

And once the bus makes its stop, you soon enter the halls of the bustling school. And knowing that a certain silver-haired guy is waiting for you right now, every heavy step you take towards the schoolyard echoes loudly in your ears, increasing your nervousness and anxiety.

You're even tempted to back up and tell him to forget it, but you resist and keep moving forward.

As you walk through the huge doors of the backyard, it's only a matter of time before you make out the figure of Aemond sitting at the same table as yesterday in the distance. Your heart skips a beat and you feel more nervous, but gathering your courage and taking a long breath, you advance towards him, ready but with uncertain steps.

Every step seems heavy, as if you are walking into the unknown and you try to hide the nerves in your gaze, especially when Aemond notices your presence. He watches you and slowly turns to you, a subtle smile on his lips.

Again there is that feeling of telling him to forget it, to find someone else, that you can't do this. But... your mind stops you and screams at you not to be silly, that at the end of it all there will be a reward, a very good reward that getting it by faking a relationship with him, is nothing.

And it's definitely worth it.

So resigned, you reach out to him.

"Hey," he says to you without wiping off his little smile, as you take a seat in front of him and he waits for you to finish settling in, "So you've come."

"Don't bother me," you tell him without humor, definitely contrasting his mood to yours.

"Now what did I do?"

"That," you point to his face, "You're enjoying this, seeing that I haven't backed out."

"Oh, please, I actually thought you wouldn't come and tell me to fuck off after you thought better of it," he justifies himself.

"Yeah? Well, nothing a free admission to your dream college won't do," you say with a slightly sarcastic tone, though implicitly admitting your reasons, "And it's actually not like I like skipping classes, so could we get this started?"

Aemond exhales long, averting his gaze from yours for a moment before returning to watching you.

"You know you'll have to be charming and act like you're completely in love with me in public, right?" he poses, expectantly.

"Yes, I know... in public," you point out to him, "Just now no one knows we're 'dating' genius," you add, underlining the falsity of the situation.

He places a small, amused, smirk on his lips.

"Yet."

He adds with a slightly defiant tone and you roll your eyes.

"Don't get too excited either."

"Are you not?"

"Oh yeah, I can't handle the excitement," you feign in a high-pitched, ironic voice, making exaggerated hand gestures.

Aemond lets out a short but genuine laugh at your gesture. He leans back slightly, his eye revealing a mischievous glint as he watches you.

"Glad to see you're keeping your sense of humor in this," he says with his tone changing slightly to a more relaxed one.

"I don't have much choice, do I?" you reply, accepting his change of mood, but still maintaining a certain emotional distance.

You figure it's just a matter of the two of you getting more into trust, and if you're going to do this with him, you're definitely going to do your part. But for now, this is still a little awkward and unexpected. And the sooner you do this, the better it will be for you.

So you shift your focus and lean forward slightly with a more serious expression on your face.

"So let's get started?"

"Well, making a contract will take up a lot of our time, so I thought it would be easier to just say and agree between us-

"It will be easier this way, to write down and establish the rules and the conditions we want to do during all this, just to have everything clear and not miss anything, Aemond," you interrupt him, taking out a notebook and a pen to start writing.

"Okay, fine," he says, shrugging his shoulders.

"So?" you watch him expectantly with the blank sheet of paper in front of you and your pen in hand, "What do you suggest first?"

"Well... first we need to know when this will all end," he begins to say, adopting a relaxed but firm stance, "And I would say that it may end when it is no longer necessary for both of you to continue pretending. But I think it's a better idea for us to last until graduation."

He proposes, looking at you intently, waiting for your reaction and you can't help but be a little surprised to hear that.

"Until graduation?" you repeat and he nods, "But you really want to do this for almost five months?"

"I know it's a long time, but that time can be beneficial for both of us," he explains, "That's enough time to give our relationship credibility and authenticity and it's also enough time to handle any problems that arise."

He says and you nod cautiously, evaluating his words.

"But if you disagree, tell me," he hurries to say.

His calm tone and your reasons contrast with the uncertainty and indecision you feel. And the two of you have barely started.

Five months is such a compromising situation and it generates some concern, because you know you will face so many things you still have no idea about and every day it could become more complicated to maintain the farce.

"I guess it's okay," you cautiously admit, trying to see the big picture, "But I feel like it's still a long time. But also reducing that time might not be enough," you agree.

"Yes but I'm sure we can handle it. And don't worry, if at some point we feel it's too much or we don't have enough reason to keep pretending anymore, we can talk iand end it."

You remain pondering, considering his words and after a few seconds you nod in agreement, and write it down as the first point on the sheet. But this alone is the first piece of a much more complicated puzzle.

1. Duration of relationship: Until graduation.

And Aemond also brings up the next point of the contract, expressing his ideas with quiet but evident assurance.

"Now, second..." he begins, "As for behavior in public, we should genuinely show affection in the hallways, cafeteria, and at any school activity and event. In a relationship people don't take their hands off each other, so we should smile at each other, hug each other, make subtle gestures, hold hands-

"Don't say kissing, please," you interrupt him, pleading, taking him by surprise.

"Of course, Y/N," he tells you instantly, incredulous, "Obviously we'll have to kiss."

As if having to act completely in love with him and be every moment touching him isn't enough. But the idea of kissing seems a bit much to you.

"I agree about showing affection and all that, but that kissing thing might be awkward and... weird," you say, trying to be sincere but not seeming completely closed off to the idea.

Aemond looks at you incredulously.

"So you don't want us to kiss?"

"I don't think it's necessary, honestly."

"Are you crazy? How are we supposed to pretend if we're not going to kiss? No one's going to believe us if we don't kiss and that's what will literally make the whole relationship believable," he insists, visibly concerned.

"Yeah, I get that it might seem necessary, but...at least I don't want to be having to kiss you every single time."

"You don't want to kiss me?" he asks you, visibly surprised, confused and... maybe a little hurt?

You watch him silently for a moment not understanding his reaction and then watch him with a small amused smile.

"I'm not one of your fans, Targaryen."

"Oh come on, everyone wants to kiss me," he says confused and incredulous, proving his point.

"Even the guys?"

"Well... yeah, I don't know, maybe some of them," he says with a shrug.

"Seven Hells," you mutter, averting your gaze for a moment, "I-I really don't want to do that," you say, speaking seriously and then you let out a sigh, "But you're right that no one's going to believe us-

"Obviously. I always have," he is quick to say.

"So my proposal is this... we'll kiss, yes, but only when it's extremely necessary, and when I say extremely necessary I mean extremely necessary."

You watch him intently, keeping yourself willing with your proposal, waiting for his opinion, which judging by his face, he doesn't quite agree with.

"And what would those extremely necessary moments be exactly?" he inquires, attentive and interested, also still looking slightly worried.

"In the cafeteria or in the hallways when everyone is obviously looking at us and we're attracting attention. Just don't abuse it."

Aemond lets out a long breath.

"Well, let's limit them to extremely necessary moments," he finally says resignedly and you quickly note the second point.

2. Behavior in public: Show affection as genuinely as possible in public, such as gestures, hugs, and holding hands. KISSING ONLY WHEN EXTREMELY NECESSARY.

"But then that second point is also going to apply to the parties you'll be going to with me and my lacrosse games you'll be going to."

You quickly raise your gaze to him.

"What?"

"Yes," he nods, "Going to the parties together will also lend credibility to the relationship and obviously we have to be very close to each other. And it's the same in my games, you must go to support and encourage me, like any girlfriend in love with her boyfriend would."

Aemond's words provoke an instant reaction in you, that confusing you and taking you by surprise.

"But I don't go to parties."

"Now you will," he says with a calm expression, reaching out his hand and taking the pen and your notebook.

"But-

He is already writing in a section further down the sheet which he lists as; 'additional conditions'.

Parties.

Lacrosse games.

"Aemond, I'm not a big fan of parties, really," you insist, "You'll have a bad time if you take me with you and I'll probably ruin everything."

"Don't worry, I'll teach you the trick to having a good time and change that mentality you have. Besides I won't take you to every party, just a few," he assures you, "All while keeping up appearances," he hands you back your notebook and pen, "With me you'll never get bored, I promise," he says with a small smile on his lips.

You let out a sigh, placing the notebook back in front of you, still undecided.

"Yes? Well, we'll see about that. I warned you though."

He lets out a soft little laugh.

"Come on Y/N, you can't be that bad."

"I assure you I can be."

"And so what do you do for fun?" he asks you, keeping his smile, curiosity evident in his gaze.

And there it is, the question that totally describes your personality and that in fact you don't like to answer to just anyone, because then they call you boring. But you can't lie to Aemond, he is astute enough and would notice.

So you decide to be honest.

"I like to read," you reply, lowering your gaze and feeling slightly embarrassed, "And I love going to the movies or watching movies and shows at home, either one is totally fine with me. Oh... and... hm... I also like ice skating, although I don't do that as often but... it's something I like too."

And even though it's only a bit of the world of things you like, Aemond listens to you attentively with a soft expression, saying nothing afterwards, as if he's processing every word you've said, while you only feel more embarrassed by the silence.

You know there's nothing wrong with it but it always made you insecure to share your hobbies, mostly because you know that many girls your age enjoy their teenage years going out with friends to parties and getting drunk.

That didn't and doesn't appeal to you now. You have long been more comfortable with the idea of staying home or going out somewhere else instead of going to parties.

It's not as if you don't attend or avoid every social event, yes you can attend and have a good time depending on who you are with and where, but not as often as every weekend.

However, you understand and recognize the logic behind Aemond's suggestion and that is that attending parties, is essential. And just as he is about to finally speak, you do so first.

"I know they are simple things and are not very exciting for most people. I also know they can be very boring but for me... that's what I like," you shyly confess.

"Hm," he says, taking a small moment, watching you softly, only causing you even more embarrassment, "Well, that's not what I was going to say," he says, catching your attention, "Sometimes it is the simple things that mean the most to everyone and, being honest... I find them interesting," he adds, trying to evaporate any awkwardness and embarrassment you might feel.

You raise your gaze, meeting his bright blue eye watching you softly and with his gaze full of genuine understanding, along with that hint of curiosity. And that gets your attention too.

He's not judging you. And even though it's not something he would do or at least hasn't tried to do yet, he's not judging you for it and you see that genuine interest in his gaze.

"Tell you what, for every party you go to with me, I'll read one of your favorite books or a movie or shows you want me to watch," he says, picking up the notebook and pen again.

"What?" you look at him confused, unable to help but smile in bewilderment, "Are you serious?"

"You must set your own conditions too," he states as he writes, "I already dragged you into my world, so now you're dragging me into yours," he looks up at you, "What do you think? Is it a fair exchange or not?"

His proposal takes you by surprise and also confuses you a little, however, the small smile remains on your face.

The genuine expression of openness on his face and the determination with which he wrote definitely makes you feel more comfortable. His willingness to immerse himself in your interests was not something you had agreed upon from the beginning, nor is it something extremely necessary to fake a relationship.

But it's for the simple reason that you both feel comfortable if you're going to pretend for almost five months and it seems like a nice gesture from him to include it, something you honestly didn't expect from him.

And when he gives you back your notebook, you see the new rule under 'additional conditions'.

For every party Y/N goes to with me, I will read a book or watch one of her favorite movies or shows.

"Yes," you nod, "Sounds like a fair deal to me."

Aemond smiles, pleased with your answer and also seeing the expression on your face.

"Great. We'll see if I discover something new I like. And you too..." he points at you with his index finger, "You won't regret it after you have a great time at my parties," he says enthusiastically, with a sort of complicity in his tone.

"Well, we'll see if you manage to impress me."

And right there, the two of you exchange complicit glances, Aemond having that little smile on his lips while you don't understand this strange new alliance the two of you are building.

But even though you didn't expect it, it's definitely to your liking.

"Now, third..." you point to the notebook with your pen, "Reinforcing the second rule, public appearance," you say, observing him, "We must act as a committed and attentive couple to each other at school and to these parties you want us to go to."

Aemond nods determinedly, thoughtfully.

"Yes, commitment at all times," he states seriously.

"So, that also means that neither of us can be with other people for the duration of all this, not even secretly," you add, making the point clear.

"And you want to write that as a rule too? It's obvious that neither of us should-

"I'll write it as the fourth rule, just to be clear about everything as I told you."

"Oh, fine."

3. Public appearance: Act like a real couple in love, be committed and attentive to each other at school and social events.

4. No involvement with other girls/guys: No casual encounters or texting with anyone else for the duration of the fake relationship.

"Oh and also..." says Aemond, reminding, "Since we're at that point, on additional conditions write that we should both upload photos and videos together on our social media. It's another way to lend credibility to our relationship."

"Photos and videos together on our social media," you repeat, looking at the notebook.

And this catches Aemond's attention.

"Don't tell me you don't use your social media," he says beginning to sound alert and concerned.

"No, no, I-I mean, yes," you hasten to say, "It's just... I don't know, I most likely don't use them as often as you do, besided I have very few followers."

"Don't worry, whatever followers you have are fine. Besides, I'm sure they'll increase when I upload my first photo with you."

You roll your eyes with an amused smile.

"Okay, Mr. Popularity."

"And speaking of that, hand me your Instagram and all your networks," he says instantly, grabbing his cell phone from his front pocket, "We better have that all figured out now."

Obviously Aemond's accounts had to be public while you maintain your privacy, with barely thirteen hundred followers while he has almost the entire school following him and probably from other schools as well.

In fact, your numbers compared to his are embarrassing. But you never really had the interest of having more followers on Instagram or more friends on Facebook, Snapchat is the same and apparently that doesn't matter to Aemond.

Upload photos and videos together to our social media.

"And well, I also think another very important thing is to maintain privacy," you suggest, lifting your gaze to watch him and Aemond gives you a confused look.

"Do you really want to write that down too? It's obvious we can't tell anyone-

"Let me enjoy this, Aemond. It's actually fun and I want to write it all down. So act serious," you ask.

He lets out a choked laugh.

"Well, yes, we must be discreet, no one must know that all this is false, only we know the truth and we must keep it that way," he says and you excitedly write it down.

"We mustn't involve our families in this either," you add, watching him intently, "But that will be difficult because your siblings are here," you grimace.

"We can keep up the farse with them for a while too, I'll convince them not to say anything to my mother or the rest of my family. And once everyone here at school is convinced enough, I'll tell the truth only to them," he say sure and confident, solving the problem.

"And you're sure you'll manage to keep them that way?"

"Yeah," he says with a shrug, "They're my siblings. I know how it works with each one."

5. Maintain privacy: Tell absolutely no one about the fake relationship or involve each other's families in it.

"Oh, right, I almost forgot..." Aemond says as he points to what is already written, "You must also go on each year's trip to Dragonstone with me. That's another additional condition of mine."

"What?" you inquire again, surprised and confused.

"Yes, the trip to Dragonstone," he affirms.

Oh God, the trip to Dragonstone.

Dragonstone is an island not far from King's Landing, where there is an ancient castle with a lot of history but has been modernized with the same name and is open to every visitor.

The school makes an annual trip for educational purposes as the castle has relics and structuring from thousands of years ago. You have seen pictures and videos where everything looks really beautiful, ancestral and almost royalty.

In addition the castle offers other activities, such as rides on its huge luxury yachts, surfing, diving and swimming lessons.

You always had the spirit to go but have always known that the trip is anything but educational. You've heard stories that happen with the students, such as getting drunk, partying on the yachts, hot tubs and obviously you've heard stories of who slept with whom.

Even the most reserved get to have fun and it's not something you're interested in. You know you don't fit in that environment, especially since everyone has to share a room and you're sure that if you go, you'll have to share a room with girls with different tastes and perspectives than yours. They probably won't even let you sleep.

"Come on Y/N, you've never been to Dragonstone?" asks Aemond incredulously, noting the grimace on your face for wanting you to go there with him.

"Well, yeah I've wanted to go but... I-I, I don't know, I've heard that instead of learning about the place, everyone goes to having fun, they party, they get drunk and I-I don't...

"And what do you expect us to do in a modern castle on the shore of the beach with yachts and hot tubs?" he inquires again, expectantly, "The trip is planned for the middle of the last month of these five months and you can't let me go alone with the things that go on in that place."

You make your grimace more visible, revealing your clear indecision. And even though you and Aemond have been at odds lately over the matter of tastes, he still places a soft smile in your direction, understanding that you are not like him and prefer to do other things.

"Look, you don't have to go to the parties and drink if you don't want to," he starts to tell you, "But we can at least go to one of the parties on the yachts and then do the activities they offer on site, swimming, diving and all that," he proposes, "We'll take pictures, tour the castle and we'll both be equally satisfied."

You ponder for a moment, considering his proposal. You know you only have to get your father's signature on the permit to be able to go to the island and it's not like you've gone before so... you can do it now.

"Well, I guess that's fine," you nod, "But really promise you won't leave me alone and we'll take the time to do other activities that aren't related to partying on yachts and hot tubs."

"Please, we'll go as a couple, so of course I won't leave you alone. You'll be stuck with me," he assures you, "And I also promise you that we'll do other activities, not just the parties."

"And..." you start to say, in a serious, warning tone, "Also promise you'll pick me up every morning to bring me to school. That's another one of my additional conditions. The bus isn't very comfortable anymore."

He nods, shrugging, completely unconcerned.

"Sure, it's no problem. Besides it will make the relationship more credible," he says softly.

Despite your doubts, you feel a sense of relief at seeing and acknowledging his commitment. And you also feel more confident knowing that you have his support in all of this, even in your conditions. So you write down the two new additional conditions.

Drive Y/N every morning to school.

Dragonstone trip.

At the end you both sign the sheet, looking honestly ridiculous but being funny, then both seal the whole contract by shaking hands.

"So when do we start all this?" you ask him, putting away your notebook and pen.

"I say tomorrow," he gives you a look of understanding, "But we need to talk now during classes in the hallways or in the cafeteria, so that when they see us together tomorrow, it won't be so surprising and will seem more believable."

You give him an unsure look.

"I think it will still be very surprising, Aemond."

"It doesn't matter, we just have to start showing together today, just talking. But tomorrow is when we really start."

And just as he says those words, with that determination, you feel again those nerves in your lower abdomen and that insecurity. But at least you still have all day today to mentally prepare yourself, and you're grateful for that.

"And before I forget this too..." he says again, "I need you to send me all your academic information to work on your college application now," he tells you seriously and you watch him completely attentively, "The five months will go by fast and during that time college applications will start. So it's best to get it all in now."

At this, you feel your heart start to beat fast and you don't know why, you guess because it's a very important issue for you. And more than anything else it's the reason you agreed to do this with him.

"Yeah, yeah, sure," you say softly, "I-I'll email it all to you."

He smiles softly in your direction.

"Very well," he nods at you, "I'll text you my email."

Despite your slight doubts about whatever is going to happen next, the idea of starting a fake relationship leaving you with a knot in your stomach and feeling your emotions mixed, you know this will all be worth a try.

So you pick up your phone and you start to write in an email all your personal and academic information. While at the same time all is said and done and the fake relationship contract is over.

THE CONTRACT

Duration of relationship: Until graduation.

Behavior in public: Show affection as genuinely as possible in public, such as gestures, hugs, and holding hands. KISSING ONLY WHEN EXTREMELY NECESSARY.

Public appearance: Act like a real couple in love, be committed and attentive to each other at school and social events.

No involvement with other girls/guys: No casual encounters or texting with anyone else for the duration of the fake relationship.

Maintain privacy: Tell absolutely no one about the fake relationship or involve each other's families in it.

ADDITIONAL CONDITIONS

Parties.

Lacrosse games.

For every party Y/N goes to with me, I will read a book or watch one of her favorite movies or shows.

Upload photos and videos together to our social media.

Drive Y/N every morning to school.

Dragonstone trip.

general taglist

@melsunshine @at-a-rax-ia @jxdegodfrey @ttkttt @yentroucnagol @kate-to-the-ki @iamavailablesstuff

#aemond targaryen #aemond fanfiction #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x you #hotd aemond #aemond x fem!reader #aemond x oc #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen fanfic #aemond targaryen x y/n #aemond x y/n #modern aemond #modern hotd

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mochalate · 10 days

Text

[intro] new notification!

msby!atsumu x reader || w/c: 560 Atsumu discovers that the only thing worse than online dating, is dating advice online. a/n: oh look at that, another atsumu fic!! this one is less stressful for me though. its pretty short, with a cute little plot that won't cause me planning paralysis. making edits for atsumu is always so fun <3 i hope you'll read it!!

[chapter 1->]

r/relationship_advice • 3 hours ago

u/fattytuna95

I want to ask out my twin brother's girlfriend.

It's not as bad as it sounds. She's not really his girlfriend.

I'll try to explain.

We're colleagues, sort of. (Me and her— I'd rather starve to death than work for my brother.)

Last month, someone took a picture of us leaving the office. I was only walking her to her car but the person who took the picture wanted to imply that we were dating.

And that wouldn't have been an easy rumour for her to handle, so I got my brother (identical twin) to post a picture with her on his socials.

Obviously, just one picture wouldn't work to convince anyone, so they've been meeting up a couple times a week (they have similar interests, so they were friends already) to be seen together.

Now here's the issue— I never saw her like that before, and I thought it was just fucking annoying to watch people be lovey dovey, fake or not... but one of my other colleagues said it sounded like I was jealous.

And fuck, I am.

Do you think she'd be mad if I asked her out? I reacted pretty badly to the original picture. And I'm worried my brother likes her for real (those photos they're posting are kind of convincing...)

Edit: for everyone asking, no, I can't ask my brother. he'll know why, and if he really does like her I don't want to mess with it. and if he doesn't he won't let me hear the fucking end of it. i can hear the best man speech already.

↑ 25 ↓ •••

u/unicornpoodle • 2 hours ago

lol dude (I'm assuming you're a dude, unless you're a girl who unfortunately is built exactly like your brother) are you sure you like her and aren't just jealous of your brother being happy? fake or not

↑ 50 ↓ •••

u/fattytuna95 • 2 hours ago yeah i'm sure. I cut out a picture of one of my teammates and pasted it over his ugly mug and it made me even angrier. ↑ 35 ↓ •••

u/msbygirlie_13 • 2 hours ago

Oh hey!! I recognise you from the atsumu miya subreddit!! That's so cool you have a twin just like him!! And his brother got a gf recently too!!! (I think they're fr tho lol.)

Okay hmmm this is a tough one. wdym when yuo said 'reacted badly'??? and what was so bad about the rumour in the first place if it's an option for you now???? this is kinda weird ngl.

↑ 42 ↓ •••

u/fattytuna95 • 2 hours ago do you really they're the real deal??? I kind of laughed. And now that I look back at it, I think I might have looked way too eager to put it out there that we weren't dating. like I was disgusted or something. :( I wasn't, I just didn't want her to have any trouble. :( :( I'm sorry, I can't explain the situation any more for privacy reasons. ↑ 20 ↓ •••

u/guiltyassassin_ • 1 hour ago

well you don't have to talk to either of them... you said someone took the original photo. maybe they're still stalking?? ask them what they think?

lmfao you guys are either celebrities or highschoolers with this kinda drama

(also you keep calling your brother ugly, but then say you guys are identical? huh????)

↑ 5 ↓ •••

u/fattytuna95 • 55 minutes ago This is kind of an insane idea, but it does make sense. Maybe I'll do it. (and you wouldn't get it.) ↑ 2 ↓ •••

first chapter tomorrow! please like/reblog/reply/send me an ask if you enjoyed it :) it keeps me going lol [my other fics->] divider: @/cafekitsune

#atsumu miya x reader #miya atsumu x reader #atsumu x reader #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #fluff #my fic

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asuyaka · 7 months

Note

Ok hear me out, Reader is besties with Gojo and Geto and was paired with them to deliver the Star Plasma Vessel(Riko) and Readers notices how the girl's passing seemed to take a toll on Geto the most, so after seeing his decreasing health, both physical and mental, they decided to reach out to him and pull him out of his dark thoughts. Yes I am in denial about the recent chapters, this is how I cope. This man deserves all the hugs in the world😭😭

★ - 'm totally agree! all Satoru had ta do was speak with Suguru 'n JJK probably wouldn't have happened !! <(＿　＿)>

☆ - Teen! Geto Suguru x Male Reader — Can be read as platonic or romantic !!

♡ - Hurt/comfort, suicidal thoughts, and Suguru bein' mildly racist towards non-sorcerers (；′⌒`)

The merging of the Star Plasma Vessel— Riko Amanai— and Tengen went to shit the second Fushiguro Toji came into the picture.

You tried, you tried saving her even though you were scared. No one could touch Satoru, but Toji could. Toji killed him and Riko like it was nothing.

You and Suguru weren't enough, he was too strong. When he killed Rainbow Dragon, Suguru's strongest curse, the reality set in that you two most likely weren't going to make it out alive.

You did, thankfully, but at what cost?

Your quaint little friend group broke up. Shoko was busy learning medical Jujutsu most of the time, Satoru had officially become the strongest and started taking solo missions which left you and Suguru.

But after that day, you noticed something was wrong. Very, very wrong. Suguru had lost weight, his hair which he prided himself in taking care of had split ends and was mildly greasy and he had eye bags.

This also added to the fact that he was coming late to class almost every day sent alarm bells in your head, so you decided to check up on him.

In your home clothes since you didn't have any impending missions and classes were over, you knocked on Suguru's door. He's stopped coming to class the past few days which scared the shit out of you since Suguru doesn't miss class unless it's something serious.

You waited, hoping to hear an answer. When you didn't, you checked the doorknob. It was open so you walked in, announcing yourself just in case Suguru was busy with something.

His room was a mess. The trash can was overflowing, clothes were piled up in a corner and dishes were stacked on the sink.

Suguru was curled up in his bed—which was also a mess, sheets that needed to be washed and his bed was in desperate need of a making— his blanket pulled up to his neck and his body facing away from the doorway.

"Suguru?" You whispered, checking his breathing just in case. It was there and stable, which meant he was just sleeping. You gently tapped on him, noticing the soft tear lines on his cheek.

He had cried himself to sleep.

Suguru stirred as his eyes opened slowly, blinking away the tiredness when he saw your concerned face. "[Name]..? What are you doing here?"

"I came to check on you. You haven't been in class, so I got worried. Are you okay?"

Suguru sat up and rubbed his eyes. He didn't realize he'd been gone for that long, it felt better to stay asleep than wake up. Some days he wished he stayed asleep forever.

"Sorry, I lost track of time." He came up with a lie off the top of his head, hoping you wouldn't question anything and leave him alone.

He knows you though. Knows how empathetic you are, knows how caring you are to the people you love, so it was no surprise when you sat on his bed making yourself comfortable. "Are you okay, Suguru?"

"I told you, I just lost track of time—"

"Suguru..." Your voice was soft as you took his hands into yours. Usually, his were well-manicured and painted black, but now they were long. Suguru hated it when his nails were long, they always got in the way when he was fighting curses. "You don't have to lie to me, you don't have to say anything you don't want to. Please, just tell me if you need help and I'll help you. I won't ask for anything more."

Suguru tensed up. Does he need help? He hasn't felt like himself ever since... everything happened a few months ago. The world felt so grey and he couldn't think of a reason to keep waking up and getting out of bed.

So what if those monkeys needed saving? Sorcerers shouldn't have to put their lives on the line to save people who were barely worth saving.

He feels sluggish. He reeks, his hair feels so greasy and his eyes are heavy. He just wants to lie down and hopefully take his last breath. He can't keep doing this— be a sorcerer that is.

He hates morals, he hates that 'the strong should protect the weak' bullshit, he hates that he wasn't strong enough to protect someone who needed saving, someone who deserved it.

He's so tired. Tired of the Jujutsu world, tired of the fake lies of non-sorcerers, tired of everything.

"...please." He mutters out, his hands slightly squeezing yours and his head hanging in shame.

You nod as you help him up. You don't need to tell him anything right now. If he needs you, if he needs your help, that's all that matters.

You start a bath and help him get undressed, closing your eyes for the sake of his privacy when you got to his boxers.

The water was warm against your legs, and you thanked yourself that you wore shorts instead of sweats. You washed him, taking extra care of his hair to show him you remembered how much he loved it. Show him how much you care about him.

You leave him momentarily to grab clean clothes, settling on an old Mario shirt, black shorts, and a pair of fuzzy white and black socks.

"Do you want to stay here while I clean?" You asked as you tied his hair into a loose ponytail, the smell of his cinnamon shampoo in the air.

Suguru shook his head. He wanted—no— needed to stay close to you. To hold you, to feel someone else's warmth against his. You didn't ask any questions, letting him hold onto your waist as you went to make his bed.

He stayed like that, pressed against you as you sorted his clothes, cleaned his kitchen, swept his floor, helped him take care of his nails, and him made him food.

Suguru doesn't feel like he deserves this. He doesn't deserve you. You're being so patient with him, you aren't judging him for being messy or unclean, you weren't judging the fact that his fridge was almost empty, you were just there.

There for him, to make him feel better.

Suguru feels like he's going to cry.

He's pressed against your chest, hands wrapped around your waist as he listens to you read aloud a book you had brought with you, hands in his hair, scratching his scalp gently.

"...thank you." He mumbles, wiping the wet away from his eyes. He feels so loved, like someone would care if he flat out died.

You smile softly, pressing a kiss against his head. "I'm always going to be here for you Suguru. No matter what."

And for the first time in months, he believes that it's worth it to live. That if he gets to feel you like this, he might stay in the Jujutsu world. All for you— everything for you.

#writin' shit.#ANSWERED LETTERS — 002 #jjk fluff #jjk x male reader #geto suguru #geto x male reader #jujutsu kaisen #male reader #x male reader #★: anon!#geto fluff #suguru x male reader #suguru x you

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lialacleaf · 8 months

Text

A Touch Too Personal

Chapter 2

Summary: You had a crush on Ghost since you started working for Price in communications, but the gruff, reserved Lieutenant only acknowledged your existence on the job. That starts to change with a simple, thoughtful gift. Warnings: Fluff, Simon is bad at processing emotions, past trauma

Imposter Syndrome is often described as feeling unworthy of good things. There’s no basis for this feeling, it’s simply a learned reaction.

It’s exactly how Simon felt after you’d given him that blanket.

He’d never gone out of his way to do anything nice for you. Hell, he barely regarded you when he dropped off his mission reports, which he now felt badly about. Being in that stuffy little office was probably bad enough, but being disregarded entirely by the people who counted on you was probably even worse.

After his most recent mission, he’d actually been too nervous to see you, and sent them in with Gaz. He’d fully intended to deliver them himself, and profusely thank you for the gift, but he had gotten stuck a few steps from your door, and aborted the mission entirely.

He felt like such a screw up, which lead him to his current predicament.

“You wanna do what now?” Soap asked as he sipped his morning coffee in the break room.

“I wanna get her a gift.” Ghost said, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Why?”

Ghost was silent for a moment, starring Soap down with his piercing gaze. “Just ‘cause,” he said stiffly.

“You mean ‘cause of your blankie?” Soap teased and Ghost’s eyes widened. “Ah man she was so proud of that thing, couldn’t wait to give it to you.”

Ghost felt his face grow warm beneath his mask. “Alright, yes. She got me a gift, it’s only proper I do the same,” he said stiffly. “What do you usually get her?”

Soap took a long sip of his coffee. “Nothin’ at all.”

Ghost glared at him. “What?”

“You heard me. She doesn’t do it for something in return. She does it for the smile, the hug, and the thank you.” Ghost felt his blood go cold. “You gave her a hug, right L.T.?” Soap asked.

Ghost stared at him for a second or two, before turning on his heel and rushing out of the break room. Soap simply sighed and shook his head.

He was awful. An Awful, stupid, heartless creature. He needed to fix this, and fast, otherwise you might never regard him fondly ever again, and such an idea was suddenly very alarming despite his general disinterest in you as of a few days ago.

You’d done something so sweet for him, and he’d responded callously. He didn’t deserve the gift you’d given him.

Now he was faced with the challenge of making things right, but he didn’t know anything about you. What was he supposed to do that would redeem him in your eyes?

Soap said you liked actions more than receiving things in return. He could work with that.

Your fingers clacked away at your keyboard as the sun began to set, casting an orange glow through your open office window. You were sulking, hiding in your office so you didn’t risk running into him at the mess hall for dinner.

You’d finished your work an hour ago, but you were hoping if you waited until the tail end of the meal he’d be gone.

You felt so stupid, like you may as well have painted a clown face on and paraded around base telling everyone that you were a joke.

It could have been worse, you tried to reason. He could have simply not accepted it. It would have broke your heart if that had been his reaction.

With a sigh, you closed your laptop and pushed it into your bag. You could sulk more comfortably in your bunk. There was no reason to prolong your suffering in your hard-backed office chair.

Your tired feet carried you back to your room as your mind wandered. Did you really think that the Lieutenant Ghost would take an interest in someone like you? You weren’t anything special. Not like him and the rest of 141. You'd been so mystified by him that your brain had completely thrown logic out the window.

When you finally arrived at your room, there was a small, tan sticky note stuck to your door, and your brow furrowed.

My room, 20:00 -Ghost.

You felt your stomach drop. Was he mad at you? Was he going to tell you off for inappropriately giving him a gift?

You let out a sigh, shaking your head as you opened your door. You were too tired to think too long on it and instead focused on stripping your work clothes off in exchange for a comfy pair of sweatpants and a sweatshirt.

You didn’t feel like going to the mess, even though you were starving, so you threw a package of noodles into your hot-pot and called it a day.

You didn’t bother putting on your work shoes when you slipped out to meet your Lieutenant, and slid on a pair of comfy slippers.

You knocked softly at his door, feeling awkward as a group of soldiers passed you in the hallway. You couldn't help but feel as if their whispers were somehow about you as if you were now the butt of a joke.

You hated feeling so anxious, so out of place. It was as if the rest of the world was laughing at you while you, emotionally speaking, tripped over your own feet.

His door opened with a creak, and your eyes flicked up from your feet to stare at the balaclava covering his face, not quite meeting his gaze.

You both stood quietly as you assessed each other, until he moved from the doorway and gestured for you to enter.

“Rough day?” He asked, taking in your disheveled state. His eyes seemed to linger on your slouched shoulders.

“Just long,” you stated, glancing around the room. You paused however when your gaze landed on his bed.

His blanket lay neatly folded at the foot of it, and you felt your heart jump to your throat. It was clear that he had been using it.

“Price said you’ve been working overtime.”

You jumped at the sound of his voice, and the feeling of his hand on your shoulders and he pushed you to sit on his bed.

“There’s been a lot to do,” you said, situating yourself comfortably. A lie, but you doubted he cared about what you did anyway. Your work probably didn't seem very important to him.

He hummed in response, cupping your cheeks as he gazed down at you. You felt your heart stutter as his thumbs gently dug behind your ear, rubbing soothing circles all the way to your collarbones.

“Lieutenant?” You asked in confusion.

“Hmm?” He hummed, massaging your biceps with his large, calloused hands.

You couldn’t help but let your eyes slide closed. “What…what are you doing?”

“Making sure you feel appreciated.”

You felt your face heat up at his words as he pushed you to lay on your back, massaging your calf muscles, before moving to your ankles and feet.

Appreciated didn't even begin to describe what you felt.

"You do an awful lot for us. Wanted to make sure you knew we see it."

You felt floaty, a soft feeling blanketing your mind as the day’s stress melted away. You tried to stay awake, but your body felt heavy, the intoxicating smell of Ghost lingering in your nose as a result of being in his space, and before you knew it you were softly snoring.

Ghost watched you carefully, pushing a stray hair out of your face and running his gloved thumb across your cheek.

You’d looked exhausted when you’d arrived, and he was glad to see you resting, even if it was in his bed. He couldn’t help but chuckle as he scooted in beside you. The blanket was big enough for the both of you after all. You'd made sure of that.

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#simon riley x reader #simon riley #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley x you

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kamiversee · 1 month

Note

even though I have mixed feelings about gojo, I def NEED some type of bonus chapter or oneshot with him being overstimulated and whimpering n stuff. I’ve been deadass fantasizing about that for the past hour (prolly cuz it’s late rn) BUT THAT WOULD CURE ALL MY PROBLEMS

this just made me realize how much help I might need because I don’t think this is normal 😃

(Choso could be an option but I feel like it would fit gojo more 🧎‍♀️)

He'd be so whiny for the reader too considering how down horrendous he is. So, because I'm in heat, here's a lil blurb off the top of my head ^.^

(wc; 0.6k)

Gojo would beg you to touch him and just imagine him on his knees in front of you, all teary-eyed and pouty-- begging you to give him some sort of attention-, any sort of attention so that the aching of his cock can die down. He was recently jerking off to you but that didn't help him much, he needed you physically and he needed you now.

He likely called you to come over and you heard it in his voice how horny he was for you. Telling you things over the phone like, "You don't have to do anything, sweetheart. Jus' stand there 'nd I promise I'll cum quick..."

Of course, his words got you all riled up so you made your way to him as quickly as possible, having him open the door of his apartment for you and snatch you inside in an instant. Gojo dragged you to his room and had to just sit prettily at the edge of his bed, dropping to his knees and whining for you to touch him-- even though he promised you didn't have to do anything.

One thing quickly led to another and Gojo was pussydrunk in a matter of minutes. Repositioned to where you were on top of him, the sensual and tortuous slow rock of your hips had him panting so heavily.

"F-Faster, fuuuck, p-please? Fuck me faster-," Gojo tried to beg as much as he could but he was beginning to moan again as you upped the movement of your hips and he straight up whimpers when your cunt squeezes around him juust right-- his hips suddenly bucking up into you for more.

He would be so pretty all fucked out too; head tossed back, Adam's apple bobbing with each deep groan that leaves his throat in reaction to your walls sucking in his lengthy cock so perfectly. Fluffy white locks of hair would be in such a mess, sweat dripping down his chiseled chest, and wet lips parted with moans leaving him.

Gojo would be enamored by every inch of you but most importantly your pussy and the way it slicked and slid up and down his length.

He'd be fucking into you for such a long time without even realizing it, heavy balls slapping against your skin as the tip of his cock just mushes into that sweet spot inside of you. Then your moans are what would have him all whiney.

It was like he was unintentionally competing to see who would be louder. Gojo would moan your name out like it's the only thing he knew how to say, so lost in the feeling of you that he's coming inside you before he even realizes, filling you up with his cum and his eyes crossing at the feeling of you getting tighter and tighter around him.

"More," You'd say to him, drunk off his cock and blinded by lust and pleasure.

To which he'd happily oblige and flip the two of you over just to fuck his dick down into your cunt at a merciless pace. Gojo would shove his lengthy inches into you as roughly as possible as if to make sure his cum stayed inside you.

Your arms would find solace around his neck and you'd tug him closer, moaning right next to his ear and making his cock throb inside you.

"You feel s'good," Gojo would groan in response, "S-So fuckin' good..." his voice airy and words leaving him in pants, "Wanna' fuck you all night, sweetheart. Can I? P-Please?" He'd beg.

He's so damn cute like this that of course you'd tell him yes, leading to his thrusts growing harsher and his bed creaking at how feral and sloppy his pace becomes.

And just as your pussy squeezes around him tighter than before, Gojo would wake up from his slumber and realize that everything he just experienced was nothing more than a wet dream :3

sorry not sorry for this :P

#kamiversee!answers #gojo satoru #smut #gojo smut #gojo x reader #tfl!extra scenes #tfl

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going-to-ikea-for-the-fries · 2 months

Text

It's a Match! || poly!141 x Reader

[Chapter 17] || [Chapter 19]

Pairing: Soap x Reader || 141 x gn!Reader Words: 1.3K~ Summary: While overcoming recent heartbreak, you decide to join Tinder in search of a rebound. Your friends advise to just Swipe Right indiscriminately... What happens when 4 soldiers from the same squad match with you? a/n: Soap is cute.

Chapter 18: Picnic

It’s 11 A.M. on Sunday when you wake up to your phone ringing. Normally you wouldn’t sleep in so late, but it’s a Sunday and you’ve got no plans, so you’re tucked into bed, lightly dozing off and feeling comfortable.

You roll over and hiss at the cold sheets next to you before you grab your phone from the charger and take it to your ear without looking at the Caller ID.

Clearing your throat, you greet a rough: “Hello…?” and rub your eyes.

“Oh, someone’s sleepy, huh?” Johnny asks from the other end. “Did I wake ye, sweetheart?” He asks you, amused.

“Yeah… What time is it..?” You ask as you roll back to the warm side of your bed.

“11 A.M..” He tells you with a chuckle. “I’m bored and alone… You mind if I come over?” He asks you.

“Sure…” You reply softly. “Just give me like… 20 minutes to get ready…” You tell him,

“About that…” Johnny replies and then you hear your doorbell ringing through your flat. “I’m downstairs.” He chuckles on the other end of the line.

“Johnny!” You groan. “You can’t show up unannounced like this! The flat’s a mess and I’m not dressed! I need to shower ans all…” You trail off.

“It’s not ‘unannounced’, I called you to announce myself!” He replies and, by the tone of his voice, you know he has a smile on his lips.

“Besides, I don’t mind if you shower… Hell, I’ll join ye.” He says with a mischievous chuckle. “Get you all lathered up in the shower, soapy skin and all, hm?” He continues.

“You know what?” You say as you snuggle into the blankets. “No.” You say directly. “You’re going to stay down there while I get ready.” You tell him.

“Wha-?” He asks in surprise with a gasp. “But… It’s pishin’ out here.” He tells you.

You turn to look out your bedroom window and sigh at the sight of the cloudy grey skies and rain hitting the panes.

“Well, tough luck! I’m not dressed so I’m not letting you in yet.” You reply. “Hope you’ve got an umbrella.”

“I’ve brought food, mo leannan, it’s going to get cold!” He announces.

“Goddamn you.” You grumble as you toss back the blankets and get up, rushing across the flat to buzz him in at the intercom.

“Thanks!” He adds as he hangs up the call.

“You know, most people would say thank you for getting to have warm food picked up by their boyfriend and spend an afternoon being lazy and having a picnic in the living room.” Soap quips and nudges you with his elbow while watching you eat the soft shell taco he bought you.

You’re sitting on the floor across from each other, using the coffee table to hold your meal and drinks. You’ve noticed that you barely use your actual dining table for what it’s designed… Especially since the boys entered your life.

Johnny sits across from you wearing a pair of navy joggers that cling onto his bulky thighs way too much, and a grey Henley shirt that clings to every muscle of his arms and torso and leaves his collarbone exposed, since the buttons aren't done up.

“Excuse me?” You retort. “A) You’re not my boyfriend,” You begin to say as Soap quips “Yet.” halfway through, which causes you to shoot him a look for interrupting you.

“And B) You didn’t give me time to get ready. I need a shower…” You grumble, to which he, also, has a reply ready. “Ye can shower after. We can even have a nice bath together.” You shoot him another dirty look.

He knows that you’ve noticed that he thinks with his lower head more often than not… And the way he’s smiling at you, all impish and mischievous makes you roll your eyes.

“And C) this hardly counts as a picnic!” You finish as you finish your taco and reach to grab a new one from the box.

“I disagree. It’s food you can eat with your hands and you’re sitting on a blanket on the floor.” He replies. “That’s a picnic.”

“Is not, a picnic is meant to be had in nature.” You retort as you take a bite of your new taco.

“Oh? You’d rather be out there in the pouring rain to make your point?” He retorts with a playful smug on his lips as he points out the window.

Rolling your eyes, you shake your head. “No.”

“Then it’s a picnic.” He retorts. “And my point still stands that you shouldn’t complain so much.” He adds.

“You’re impossible, Johnny.” You tell him.

He smirks at you and continues eating, his blue eyes watching you closely as you eat the meal he’s bought you, a soft smile on your lips despite the fact you’re a bit annoyed at him.

“Ye know…” He says as he reaches for his can of Coke and takes a sip. “Ye make Simon and Kyle really happy.” He tells you.

Your eyebrows rise as you keep chewing your food. “I do?”

“Aye.” He replies as he leans his elbow on his knee to keep looking at you. “Simon doesn’t talk much about it, but I see it in the way he looks at you. The way he touches ye. Never ever seen the L.T. be so gentle with anyone.” He explains.

“And Kyle… He’s usually upbeat and all but he’s more… well… unbothered, ye ken? Doesn’t fuss about things, always relaxed, chill.” He continues. “Haven’t seen him smile as much as he does as when he bounces up from his chair at the end of the day and rushes out to go pick ye up.” He admits.

Your eyes soften a bit and you find your whole face getting hot as you hear him so you shovel the rest of your taco in your mouth so you can’t say something embarrassing.

“And, to be honest, I get it.” He replies. “I see the way ye light up when you see them…” He admits. “Ye’re so bonnie when ye’re smiling… And yer jokes and banter just put a smile on my face too…” He trails off.

Swallowing your food, you take a greedy gulp of your own soda to try and process what you want to say and you just end up blurting out a soft “I’m just me…”

“And ye’re great.” He replies and smiles as he goes back to eating his food, as if he hadn’t just said something so… sweet and deep.

The rest of the meal is spent talking about other things, less important, less deep things. You look at him with interest and intrigue, as if trying to figure him out, as you two talk about inconsequential things and make banter.

He shows you a couple of his art pieces on his phone, causing you to coo at them, especially a page he’s been working on that’s just got little portraits of everyone he works with. Ghost, Gaz, John… But also some other people he introduces to you. An ‘Alejandro’, a ‘Rudy’, a ‘Nik’, an ‘Alex’... And a ‘Farah’ and a ‘Laswell’.

You come to realize that he’s… interesting, fun, easy to talk to, silly... Despite how stupid and silly and boring his profile on Tinder made him out to be… Soap’s… great.

Once the meal is done, you tidy up the living room a bit. He takes the trash to the bin, while you fix the pillows and blankets and run the roomba over the kitchen and living room… And, once you’re done, you turn to look at him while you both stand by the couch.

Biting your lip, you look up at him. “So… about that bath?” You whisper.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

taglist (CLOSED! not adding anyone else, sorry!):

@daisychainsinknots , @bunnysdaydreams , @iite-cool , @lahniu , @pagesfalling , @tapioca-milktea1978 , @live-love-be-unique , @thelaisydazy , @littleghosthunter , @bossva , @emotion-no-hot-yes-hotel-trivago , @chamomiletealeaf , @ghosts-hoe , @kariiiel , @ltbarnes , @irregulardongyoung , @spacelia , @hayleybarnesx , @infpt-zylith , @xxshadowbabexx , @frescoisnotinthemilitary , @leeeenistop , @lucienbarkbark

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hearts4youz · 7 months

Text

"Captains Daughter" ● Chapter One ●

A/N Heyy!! welcome to the first chapter of my first fic posted on Tumblr!!! I want to thank you in advance for reading my work, please provide criticism and feedback, I would greatly appreciate it :) I want to keep this authors note short so without further ado (ew) heres chapter one!

Word count 954

You strode into the mess hall like you've done many times before. Only this time, you worked here. When you were younger your father, Captain John Price, would bring you up to the base some days. You remembered ogling at the huge Humvee's and armored tanks in the garages, and the rooms full of state of the art weaponry you would see in the video games you had on the xbox your dad had bought you for Christmas one year. Smiling at the memory, you hopped in line to get a bite to eat before your meeting, which immediately followed the allotted time for breakfast.

Steak and eggs were being served today, based on the relatively low level of complaining from the people around you, you assumed it was one of the better meals served on base. As a kid, you never ate on base when your dad would bring you. When you were really young he would go out to McDonalds to get a happy meal for you. As you got older you packed your own lunch.

After you received your meal, you found an open spot at a half filled table. Nodding at those who were already seated there, you settled in at the other end of the table, savoring what would likely be your last bit of alone time for the rest of the day.

Your first day at a new base felt almost like your first day at a new school, you thought as you wandered the corridors trying to find the meeting room your father had told you to report to. You scanned the endless doorways, looking for one labelled "Meeting room 7." Cursing as you passed another one labeled storage, you thought you would be late. Turning another corner in this Labyrinth that was supposed to become your second home, you finally found it. You twisted the handle and stepped into a room with a long wooden table, a whiteboard streaked with poorly erased marker lines, and five men seated around the table.

You were greeted with a beaming smile from your father as you stepped inside and shut the door behind you.

"Gentlemen, this is my daughter Y/N, she has been recently assigned to our unit and will begin training with us and joining us for missions today," your father beamed, proud that the young woman he raised would be joining his team.

You offered a shy wave and a smile to the rest of the room, you studied each of them as they introduced themselves.

"I'm Sergeant Kyle Garrick, but you can call me Gaz, one sporting a ball cap with the British flag imprinted on the front said. he had a light stubble on his chin and above his lip.

"Everyone calls me soap 'round here," The guy with the mohawk grinned, he appeared to be the goofiest out of the group. Next to him was a tall man, face obscured by a skull mask. He leaned back in his chair, arms crossed.

"Ghost, Lieutenant," His thick Manchester accent stated. The exposed portion of his face was unreadable as he looked at you.

"Alejandro Vargas, Colonel, Mexican Special Forces," The last one to introduce himself said with a smile.

"Well, I'm excited to start working alongside you all, and i'm looking forward to getting to know you all," you responded kindly, receiving nods and murmured agreements in return.

The one who called himself soap beckoned you over and patted the seat next to him as your father started yakking about the day's tasks. He grinned as you sat down next to him.

"Price says your a sergeant," he queried.

"I am, and you?" you responded.

"twins," he laughed.

While Price droned on, you and Soap chatted about anything and everything. You half listened to your dad, not wanting to miss important information and have a huge fuck up your first day on the job.

Eventually, Soap gave you the run down on each member of the unit. You learned that him and Gaz were good friends, Alejandro leads another group called Los Vaqueros, and the real name of the scary ghost guy was Simon Riley.

"He's a man of few words at first, well actually he's always a man of few words," Soap corrected himself. "but he's a good guy when you get to know him, he's an excellent soldier too," he continued.

"I don't think he's very fond of me joining," you said.

"Naw, he'll come around eventually, he's just trying to act all tough" Soap insisted.

you hummed, tuning back into the meeting. Towards the end of it, your father mentioned assigning a training partner for you. Task Force 141 was in much more violent territory, with tougher foes. You would need extra help to catch up to the skill level of the rest of the group

"I'd like Ghost to assist Y/N in training," Price finished.

You could see Ghost's brows furrowing from the eye holes in his mask, You could see Ghosts brows furrow from the eye holes in his mask, they were a shade of light blue, almost grey. Other than that, Ghost had no comment about the order. Price dismissed the meeting.

You waited for everyone to clear out before walking up to your dad, he kissed your forehead and smiled at you "Need something kiddo?" He asked.

"Well I can't find where my bunk is for starters," you said sheepishly.

This new base was huge, in your old one everyone slept in barracks. Here, everyone gets their own room.

"Of course kid," He chuckled as you made your way out of the meeting room.

Today, you would settle in. Tomorrow, the real work begins.

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neonghostlights · 9 months

Note

Listen- listen carefully- okay?

okay so

Eddie, right? Eddie, with a tattoo artist crush??!! like cmon. The possibilities are endless!

how does he confess? What are their dates like? How do they spend quality time together? So many questions, not many answers. (Fem reader pls-) 🍋-

BESTIE. I AM HEARING YOU LOUD AND CLEAR. This is great. I love it. Readers a badass. Eddie’s in love. This is amazing. This is gonna end up being a two parter with the next chapter being their relationship once the relationship is established. Thank you! also, sorry it took me so long to write this ):

Warnings: Love at first sight, Tattooing, Pain, Blood, 18+ only

Wordcount: 2.1k

Rose

The bell attached to the shop door dinged when Eddie walked in. The floors were clean, polished. That was something he always checked when he walked into tattoo shops. Back in highschool he didn’t particularly care about the cleanliness of tattoos, just getting whatever he wanted etched into his skin in his buddies trailer. After seeing the outcome of a particularly nasty skin infection Gareth got one time that left his tattoo looking like a jumbled mess, Eddie cared a little more now.

Robin had begged him to stop by and check out her new job as a part time receptionist at the best (only) tattoo shop in Hawkins, Indiana. Eddie was a little surprised to see you here since he had seen your work done in one or two magazines before. You were somewhat of a celebrity in the tattooing world, having won quite a few awards for your art.

Steve had told him that Robin had been terrified to start here, since your reputation was well known. But after the first day she came home gushing about how great you were and insisted that Eddie swing by to meet you as soon as possible.

Low rock music played from a speaker in the corner of the room. Black leather couches and chairs surrounded a coffee table full of binders and magazines. Artwork, presumably yours, covered the walls top to bottom. Eddie usually drew up his own designs when getting work done but yours were so good that he wouldn’t mind having one of your pre-drawn designs placed on his body. He could smell the fresh paint still lingering in the air, telling just how recent the shop had been opened.

“Hey!” Robin greeted him from behind the clear glass counter. “Welcome!”

“Nice looking place,” Eddie said with a low whistle.

“Right,” she said with a fake whisper. “You think you want to get something done?”

“Nah, not today. I didn’t draw anything up.”

Robin rolled her eyes, knowing Eddie was picky about what he wanted done. She couldn’t blame him. She had an orange tattooed on her foot after a drunk spring break dare from Steve that looked more like a basketball.

“Hey, Rob?” Your voice broke out, muffled by the rock still playing on the radio. Eddie heard the sound of wheels rolling across the floor as you scooted your rolling chair out of the room you were working in and backing out into the hallway. “You wanna order some lunch?” You asked once you were fully in the hallway.

Eddie had seen a lot of attractive people before but none of them had made his heart stop quite the way you did.

“Oh, hi,” you said, startled to see Eddie standing there. “Were you looking to get something done?” You asked, standing from your chair and approaching him.

Eddie froze. All thoughts escaped his brain as you walked towards him. He could see the skin of your legs through your ripped jeans and Eddie had never thought a kneecap was so sexy before.

“This is my friend Eddie. He just came by to check out the shop. Right, Eddie?” Robin plucked his cheek to try to reboot him.

The magazines had never included your picture, but he wished they had so he wouldn’t be standing here like an idiot. He had a feeling that your picture printed on glossy paper wouldn’t do you any justice.

Eddie winced at the sharp sting of his cheek, rubbing at the stubble there.

“Hi,” was all he was able to croak out, sticking his hand out to you.

You smirked a knowing smirk at him that made him feel embarrassed from how obvious he was being. He was usually the one that was smirking to make people melt, not the other way around and it made his head spin.

You gripped his hand, firmly giving it a little shake. Eddie didn’t want to let go, but finally did, realizing how sweaty his palm had gotten. He tried to discreetly wipe it against his jeans. If you felt it, you didn’t say anything.

“So, Eddie, did you want to get a tattoo today?” You asked, head tilted as you looked him up and down.

“He said no-”

“Yes. Yes I do,” he said, cutting Robin off.

Robin looked like she was about to die of laughter. Eddie knew she would be itching to grab the phone and call Steve to tell him all about the way Eddie was acting. He knew there would surely be some jokes cracked at his expense during the next family dinner. But he couldn’t bring himself to care all that much.

You tilted your head, like you were studying him, picking him apart to make sure he was actually worthy of having your art on his skin forever. Eddie would let you draw on his bones if you were able to. Shit, he’d hand you the pick and chisel.

“Okay,” you said slowly. “Have any idea of what you want to get?”

“Uh…” Eddie trailed, eyes darting to the artwork around the shop. “You choose.”

You frowned. “You want me to choose your tattoo for you?”

Eddie nodded, already too far in to back out now.

“And you’re sure? Completely?” You checked as Robin started pulling out paperwork for Eddie to sign.

“Oh, yeah. I’m sure.”

Three months later and the bell dinged over the shop door. You could hear it from your office where you had low music playing as you sketched away at an idea you had. It was getting closer to the holidays and the shop was less busy. People usually liked to spend their money on presents and food this time of year instead of tattoos. You knew January was going to pick back up again so you weren’t worried.

You could hear Robin laughing at something up front, probably at whoever just came through the door. You heard the familiar sound of boots come your way and it brought a smile to your lips.

His knuckles rapped against the door a few times. This had become a routine since Eddie let you tattoo him a few months ago. He had gotten a couple more done by you, each more intricate than the last. But some days he would stop by just to say hi to you, like he probably was today. You never let other customers come to your office like this. Eddie was special.

“Hey,” you greeted him, turning in your chair. You dropped the pencil you were using to your desk, ready to give your hand a break for a bit.

Eddie smiled as he leaned against the door frame. “What are you working on?”

You held up the sketch pad. It was a drawing of a dragon taking flight. It was small, simple with just enough detail to not overpower it. If someone ever wanted this you could of course add anything to it.

“That’s sick,” Eddie said as he came closer, humming as he assessed the drawing.

“It’s not done yet. I need a little more time with it,” you explained, feeling a little self conscious about your art, something you hadn’t experienced until you realized shortly after meeting Eddie that you always wanted to impress him.

“Is it for a customer?” He asked.

“No. Just an idea I had,” you said as you set it back down on your desk.

“Can I get it?”

You tilted your head as you looked up at Eddie. His hair framed his face where he was still looking down at the drawing with intensity, avoiding your eye contact now for some reason. You could see the rose tattoo on his arm, the first one you gave him on the day you met. You didn’t tell Eddie what you were tattooing until you were done. You knew it was a risk, not many men wanted a flower tattooed on them. But this one seemed like it fitted him.

After you had tattooed the rose he stared at it with teary eyes. You thought you had really messed up until he told you that Rose was his late mothers middle name. After that, the dynamic seemed to change, bringing you even closer even though you two had just met.

“I mean if you want but it’s really not done and I-”

“I think it’s perfect,” Eddie interrupted, finally looking up at you with a small smile.

You took a deep breath at the intensity of his stare before leading him back to the room to be tattooed.

You had Eddie lay back in the reclining chair. It was laid back to be as flat as a table so you had better access to his ribs.

You explained to him that the ribs were going to hurt pretty bad even though he was no stranger to tattoo pain. He just laughed it off and asked if you could hold his hand when he starts to cry.

You rolled your eyes, pushing away the butterflies at the thought of holding his hand in yours. You didn’t really like emotions. You’d prefer to spend your time alone, drawing with nothing to complicate your life. It had been a battle the past three months of knowing Eddie. You were constantly denying the way you felt and it was getting harder and harder each time you saw him.

Eddie closed his eyes and laid mostly still except for the occasional twitch and tapping he would do. He was uncharacteristically quiet today and you found yourself going through most of his tattoo without him even saying a word. That wasn’t normal.

“Are you doing okay?” You asked as you gathered more ink. “If it’s too much we can stop for today.”

“No,” he said loudly, practically jumping off the table at your offer. He cleared his throat looking embarrassed before he slowly laid back down.

“Are you sure?” You checked again, giving him the opportunity to quit if he wanted to.

“Yeah. I’m sure,” he said with a nod as he closed his eyes again.

You went back to tattooing, trying to figure out why he was acting this way. He seemed nervous to be around you today and you weren’t sure why. It didn’t make sense. He was usually a blushing, stumbling mess around you and now suddenly he was acting like this tattoo was the most serious thing he had ever done.

“You need me to hold your hand?” You joked, trying to lighten the mood.

Eddie giggled nervously with his eyes still closed. You watched him wipe his palm discreetly against his jeans.

You had a feeling you knew what was going on here. It was a feeling you had from the first day you met him and he not so subtly asked you out. When you tattooed him that first day, he seemed to cover up his nerves well by joking with you and asking you questions about yourself. You could ask him, see what he says. The worst he could say is no. You usually had a good eye for things like this and Eddie had all the signs.

“You know next time you can just ask me out on a date instead of having me tattoo you,” you said as you cleaned the fresh ink off the now finished tattoo.

Eddie’s eyes shot open in a flash. He sat up, wincing at the tender skin on his ribs.

“Wait!” You yelled as you grabbed a cloth and cleanser. “I need to clean it before you get up.”

Eddie ignored your demands. “Did Robin tell you?” He asked, looking defeated.

“No,” you said as you wiped at the skin from the new position he sat in. “You were just acting kind of weird so I figured that might have been what was going on.”

Eddie sighed deeply.

“If I read that wrong and totally made this awkward just tell me,” you said quickly.

“No,” Eddie rushed out. “No. You were right. I didn’t realize I was that obvious.”

You laughed and shook your head. “You were just a little obvious.”

You motioned for Eddie to stand up and take a look in the mirror. He whistled as he looked at the fresh ink on his now angry skin.

“You like it?” You asked.

“I love it. It’s incredible. Thank you,” he said, still in awe of your artwork on his body.

You nodded your head awkwardly as you started to wrap it to keep it clean and uninfected. You met Eddie’s eyes in the mirror when you were finished. You froze, unsure what to do now and afraid that you had ruined everything by speaking up. You really enjoyed Eddie’s company and the thought of becoming something more made your heart race.

Eddie grabbed his things, about to head to the front to pay.

“So…was that a no?” He asked as he slipped his shirt over his head.

You laughed. “Eddie, you didn’t even ask me.”

“Oh, right. Sorry. I’m still nervous. Do you want to go out on a date sometime?”

“I’d love to.”

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